Gospel Story Finder

My wife and I have just celebrated a remarkable thirtieth anniversary. Thirty years ago, young missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on our door in Nottingham, England.
How did their message appeal to two active members of another church? We, and generations before us, had held membership in the established church of the land. Furthermore, we were very happy with our way of life. Two precious children had graced our home, and a new job in a large industrial company was giving challenge and enjoyment.
What more could we hope for? What could add to our happiness? As the missionaries taught us and prayed with us, we began to realize that there were gaps in our life, that we had unfulfilled needs. For a few minutes may I share with you ten ways in which our lives became even more purposeful and happy as these needs were fulfilled. I am sure you will be able to identify some of these needs in your life, in your home, in your family.
First, we realized that our communication with God was not often enough or strong enough. True, we had always said our individual prayers, but when, because of the missionaries, we also started to pray together regularly as husband and wife and with our children, we experienced a tremendous feeling of closeness, not only with each other but with the Almighty God.
The missionaries had taught us that he is a personal being, that he is literally our Father, and prayers began to flow from the heart and were no longer repetitious. We came to know him as a loving Father, just and kind, reliable and true. What great need there is in the world today to commune with the Infinite, to talk and walk with God, to know that he speaks to us today and that we are in reality his children.
Second, we came to know Jesus Christ, not just as a historical figure, but as the living Son of God. In high school and the years that followed I had made a special study of the New Testament. However, the Savior’s life and mortal ministry had no great impact on my life until the missionaries testified, as did Job of old, that our Redeemer lives (see Job 19:25).
I came to know him as my personal Savior, who gave his life for me and for each of us. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Everyone needs a friend and everyone has a friend beyond compare—Jesus Christ and him crucified and resurrected for us.
Third, as a young married couple, we were seeking security in an insecure world. We had grown from youth through teenage years during World War II. I had been a member of the Home Guard at sixteen, trained to defend my country, and at seventeen had volunteered for the Royal Air Force. Now, more than five years after the war had finished, there was still rubble in the streets and rationing in the shops.
We grasped at the secure message that the missionaries gave us, that God speaks today as he did anciently, through prophets. Yes, he is mindful of us, he does love us, he has restored his church and the fulness of his gospel as he promised. Oh, how the world needs a prophet to lead us and guide us in these troubled times. I testify that we have such a prophet. He sits behind me as I speak in this tabernacle. He presides over The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Lord’s church and kingdom here on earth.
Fourth, we began attending the Church at the missionaries’ invitation—and what a friendly reception! We soon learned what true sociality is, and sincere brotherhood and sisterhood which bind together people of all nations and tongues. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). What a wonderful feeling of belonging, of being needed and appreciated, beyond anything we had previously experienced.
Soon we were singing in choirs; visiting other Church members in their homes, just as they visited us; and giving service to others in some of the many service projects the Church provides. We were able to choose from a wide range of activities—drama, dancing, sport—to supplement the spiritual progress that came rapidly by worshiping and learning with other Latter-day Saints. Everyone needs to experience the warmth of friendship and happy social activity on a continuing basis.
Fifth, my family and family life became even more meaningful and precious to me as we commenced having wonderful family home evenings together. We learned that all over the world, members of the Church spend at least one evening a week together in a balanced evening of spiritual instruction, fun, and talent sharing. We love our children, and we were glad to learn from the missionaries that although baptism is essential for the remission of sins, infant baptism is not necessary since “all children who die before … accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom” (D&C 137:10). We have known a number of parents who have been distressed at the death of a small child because of the un-Christian doctrine of infant baptism.
Again, we also became concerned about our wider family: our grandparents, our great-grandparents, and all of our ancestors. This is also a universal need, as Alex Haley expressed, “a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage” (“What Roots Means to Me,” Reader’s Digest, May 1977, p. 73). Everyone has some family, sometimes near, sometimes far, sometimes living in mortality, sometimes passed on and awaiting the Resurrection. The strength that comes from family in all its aspects is a vital need, one that can be fulfilled by the principles and programs learned from the missionaries.
Sixth, everyone appreciates good health, and there is a basic need to have our spirit housed in a well-functioning body if at all possible. Personally, I had suffered internal discomfort for some years, but the health code, or Word of Wisdom, taught by the missionaries helped me to overcome this. I can testify that the exclusion of the habit-forming stimulants of alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee has been a great blessing in my life and the lives of my wife and my children. I am glad the Lord gave this revelation through Joseph Smith, the Prophet, almost 150 years ago, bringing increased health and vitality to millions of people.
Seventh, as provider for our young family, I was not only concerned about physical and spiritual well-being, but indeed with personal progress generally. I soon found that in the Lord’s Church all kinds of resources are provided to fulfill this need. Before long I was involved in educational activities and leadership training and cultural pursuits of various kinds. Progress within my company organization was a natural outgrowth of progression in the Church. This was not surprising, for early in our discussions with the missionaries we had learned of God’s plan of eternal progression for his children. Does not everyone deep down have this yearning, this need to progress and improve, to develop and refine?
Eighth, I think along with these needs there is also a spirit of adventure in most of us in varying degrees, a need to discover, a need to explore. For many this need is met by reading adventure stories or traveling to new places. For myself, I had always been fascinated by the study of Middle Eastern archaeology, particularly of the great Egyptian civilization.
The message of my missionary friends even fulfilled this need, for they told us of an ancient record on gold plates, inscribed by people from the Middle East in the pre-Christian era. Imagine my excitement to learn that these ancient people with their prophets and culture had left the Old World and traveled to the New, to become a mighty people on what is now the American continent. Their records were hidden and preserved and a little over 150 years ago were discovered, not by archaeologists, but by a teenage youth. The faith and worthiness of this young man, Joseph Smith, enabled him not only to find the gold plates, but later to translate the hieroglyphic record by the power of God.
What a thrill it was to see some of the reformed Egyptian characters as copied by the hand of Joseph Smith. I knew by the feeling I had that they were true characters. Then, to hold this book of scripture, this Book of Mormon, in my hands and read it eagerly, sincerely, prayerfully, was a powerful spiritual experience. The need I had for the adventure of discovery was fulfilled through the Book of Mormon. This was not merely discovery of ancient peoples, but a complete discovery of the divinity of Jesus Christ. I testify that the Book of Mormon is a witness, a modern-day witness, of the Savior of the world, who visited this continent after his resurrection.
Ninth, as one who had lived less than perfectly, and yet had no serious matters to disturb my conscience, I felt the need to make some changes in my life. I was overjoyed to learn the pure teaching of Jesus Christ concerning faith, repentance, baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, and the laying on of hands to receive the Holy Ghost. What joy to start afresh with a clean sheet, having turned away from unsound doctrines, vain traditions, and perverted ordinances.
Again, this would seem to be a universal need, all men having been born into this earth life innocent and pure, and having been tainted by the things of the world. The marvelous thing is that Jesus gave his life for everyone. His resurrection was for everyone, “for as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22).
Tenth, and finally, since being baptized into this wonderful restored Church of Jesus Christ, I have felt an inner peace, “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philip. 4:7). I have heard many people say their greatest need and desire is to obtain peace of mind. How does this come? It comes by knowing the truth, for “the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). I testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church of Jesus Christ, and teaches true principles and true ordinances.
How grateful I am that my ten most fervent needs have been fulfilled through listening to the missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then, by study and prayer and obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel, I have found happiness not only here but for eternities to come.
May all within the sound of my voice, and all God’s children everywhere, have the same fulfillment, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Water. It was always water for him. Once, when he was ten, he had tried to walk on the lake water. Lying on his back on the dock near his parents’ old cabin on the lake, he had become curious with the possibilities of faith. He had heard the story countless times in his Methodist Sunday School of the Savior walking on the water, but now his wondering made him restless. If he had enough faith, would the substanceless substance become firm beneath him? He stepped confidently out, then fell clumsily into the water.

A number of years ago, as I was leaving the Church Office Building a day or two before Christmas, I found myself walking next to Elder Bruce R. McConkie. We wished each other a merry Christmas. I drove home and surmised he did the same. The day after Christmas the telephone rang. It was David Wirthlin, the administrator of the LDS Hospital.
“Guess what happened just before Christmas?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
“Elder Bruce R. McConkie came to the hospital. He asked if he could give a few blessings. With permission granted, he went from room to room placing his hands on the heads of several dozen patients.”
That is the real world, isn’t it?

I shall tell you one more story in closing, one that I think I have told you before. In the days before I went on my first mission, the Saltair Dance Hall was thought to be the finest dance hall in all America. I was there one night, and a young lady came up and said, “LeGrand, we’re having a wonderful banquet downstairs. Wouldn’t you like to join us?”

You know the old saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his tummy. I could not turn that invitation down. So we took hold of hands and went hopscotching down the steps into the north end of that pavilion. As we neared a long table spread, I noticed that by each plate was one of those tall beer bottles they used to have when I was a boy. When I saw that we were headed for that table, I stopped as though I had been shot. The girl I had by the hand looked at me and asked, “What’s the matter? Are you too good to drink a little beer?”

I had to think awfully fast, so I said, “Well, Elsie, I guess I am. I thought you were. Good-bye.” And I went up those steps a lot faster than I had come down.

I have asked myself time and time again if I would ever have become a Presiding Bishop of this Church, to preside over all the young boys of this Church—the Aaronic priesthood and the girls of the same age—if I had sat at that table that day. If one never takes the first beer he never needs to worry about the second one. If he never takes the first cigarette, he never needs to worry about the second one. And so I stand before you here today thanking God for the inspiration of the Holy Ghost that has been my companion through life, that has given me the power to make the decisions that I needed to make so that I can stand here in honor today and advise you to do the same.

At a home evening recently, Richard brought out a scrapbook he keeps; it’s full of his souvenirs. He passed it around the family circle, describing photos he took himself and clippings from newspapers. The rest of the family joined in with other stories, laughter, and warmth. It was clear that they were all involved in learning lessons through their Church activity and through sports. They were learning about brotherhood by working together; they were learning to plan their time to be able to do things they enjoy and still meet school, Church, and household responsibilities; they were learning about family love, caring, and sharing; and they were learning about fixing goals for themselves. It was clear that they’re involved with soccer—and with each other—for more than just the kicks.

When I crossed the finish line of the Mayor’s Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska, I felt extremely grateful to be a finisher because I had been fighting the battle of living with a chronic illness. After receiving my finisher’s medal, I hurried to call my mother. She was thousands of miles away serving a mission with my father in Samoa. With heartfelt emotion and tender tears, my first celebratory words to her were “I’m free! I’m free!”
Four years before then, I had been diagnosed with post-viral fatigue syndrome, often associated with symptoms of chronic fatigue syndrome. After many blood tests, MRIs, and CAT scans, I was referred to an infectious disease specialist. At last, after months of wondering what was wrong with me, the virus was found. The doctor found the cytomegalovirus (CMV) in one of my blood tests. I asked him about a treatment plan and how long my symptoms might last. His answer was not what I wanted to hear. He told me that I would need to rest often and not overdo it. He told me that the symptoms could last for several months or even years.
How could I rest? I was a full-time elementary physical education teacher and Young Women leader. My husband and I had been married for 16 years and had not yet been blessed to have children of our own, so I tried to fill this void by teaching other children and serving the young women. After offering many prayers, I knew it was time for me to resign from my teaching position. I did not have the strength or the energy to teach or do much of anything. I often experienced daily headaches, joint pain, dizziness, anxiety, loss of concentration, unrefreshed sleep, and extreme fatigue.
What was I going to do? I knew I had two choices: give up or hold on. I chose to hold on because I knew that with my faith anchored in Jesus Christ, I could endure the struggle.
The struggle continued for four years. Getting dressed every morning became exhausting. Just doing one load of laundry wore me out. I could not drive myself to appointments due to dizziness and exhaustion. Asking others for help was challenging for me; but if the Spirit prompted me to do so, I would try to obey. I was amazed at the love that was offered to me. I had always been a giver. I had found joy in service. Now I had to allow others to serve me and hold on to hope for healing.
In priesthood blessings that I received, I heard that I needed to be patient for healing to happen. I had read in the scriptures that if I would “bear with patience [my] afflictions,” the Lord would give me success (see Alma 26:27). I read a general conference talk from President Russell M. Nelson about the Lord’s ways and timing. He testified: “I know that an all-wise Heavenly Father’s perspective is much broader than is ours. While we know of our mortal problems and pain, He knows of our immortal progress and potential. If we pray to know His will and submit ourselves to it with patience and courage, heavenly healing can take place in His own way and time.”1 I knew I must hold on.
When I would attempt to walk half a block in my neighborhood, I often experienced shortness of breath, light-headedness, and joint pain. I had been a runner previous to contracting the virus, and now I could only walk slowly. Many times I would fall on my knees to pray that I could get up and feel up. The fatigue got worse every time I tried to get up and do too much. One day I got up and my back went out. I fell to the floor in tears and pain. I cried out to Heavenly Father, “I can’t take it anymore!” He knew I was down and helped me up once again. I would often tell myself, “Just hold on.” There was not much else I could do. By choosing to hold on to hope in Christ and continually calling upon the Lord, I was able to press on.
I decided I needed to focus on what I could do rather than what I couldn’t do during this physical affliction. I began by compiling a gratitude list. At the top of my list, I wrote that I was grateful for being alive and knowing who I am. By knowing that I am a daughter of God and that my Savior loves me, I was able to “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope” (2 Nephi 31:20).
I became determined to fill myself with a perfect brightness of hope, love, and gratitude by studying the life of Jesus Christ through reading the scriptures, receiving priesthood blessings, and serving others in small and grateful ways.
I was often filled with fear during this affliction. This fear would cause panic attacks and make me feel weary and unsure of my ability to ever recover and be whole. One day I received a card in the mail from my Relief Society president that included a scripture that became my peaceful prescription for overcoming the fear that was holding me back: “Perfect love casteth out all fear” (Moroni 8:16). Our Master Healer, Jesus Christ, would cast out my darkness, doubt, and despair and fill me with His light, love, and lift. My fear faded and my faith ignited.
After four years of chronic fatigue, I ran my first marathon in 2011 and have run 12 more since.
Photograph courtesy of the author
After four years, I knew I had been patient in affliction, and I felt physically able and prepared to move on. I wouldn’t be moving on alone. My husband and my children (the oldest of which was born two years into my illness) were my most enthusiastic cheerleaders.
So I began training for the marathon one step at a time. My husband decided to train with me and promised to run the race with me. During one of my training runs, I came upon a street sign that validated my healing. The street name at the top of a hill was Success. At that moment, I knew the Lord had kept His promise to me. I had been taught what I should do to endure this affliction: “Bear with patience thine afflictions, and I will give unto you success” (Alma 26:27).
The Lord gave me more success than I expected. He renewed my strength and healed my broken heart. I could run again, and after 16 years of not being able to have children, I was blessed to give birth to a son and a daughter (within 21 months of each other). I’m so grateful I held on to God’s guidance I had received in the scriptures.
I pressed forward through the illness with faith in Christ and with my husband and children as my cheerleaders. Now our children are old enough to run with us.
Photograph courtesy of the author
I know the words of Christ tell us all things that we should do (see 2 Nephi 32:3). I know that being patient helps the process of healing to happen. As Paul wrote, “Let us run with patience the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1). Running the race of life requires us to overcome obstacles put on our path. By holding on to hope in Christ, pressing forward with a steadfastness in Christ, and moving on with His perfect love surrounding us, we will, in the Lord’s timing, be made free! (see John 8:36).
The author lives in Alaska.

A story I read long ago helped me see that my words can change someone’s life. It was written by a woman about herself when she was a child just entering first grade. I don’t know the author’s name or where her story was published, but I remember the title: “Seven Words That Changed My Life.” I’ll tell it as I remember it.
Excruciatingly shy, her face disfigured by a cleft palate, and her hearing severely impaired in one ear, Alice lived in self-destructive misery, an invalid in a cocoon of her own making. She had closed herself off from the outside world, feeling unloved and not wanting anyone to see her ugly face or detect her disability. Fearing the inevitable stares and cruel taunts of other children, she panicked at the thought of attending school. How could she hide her ugliness and her deafness? Yet somehow she was made to go to school that first day.
Left early with the teacher, before the other children came, Alice took a seat at the back of the class and hid her face from the others as they came in. After the class began, the teacher announced that they would first have a simple hearing test. One by one the children were to come to the door and stand, waiting until the classroom was absolutely quiet. Holding a hand tightly over one ear and then the other, they were to listen as the teacher whispered something to them. The simple test was to repeat back the teacher’s words.
Alice sat almost in tears. Not only would everyone see her ugly face, but they would find out she was deaf in one ear. She sat with lips quivering as each of the other children passed the test. Now it was her turn to be seen and tested.
Hiding her face in her hands, she walked to the front. Trembling, she turned her face to the wall and covered her good ear, but left enough opening so she could hear the whispered words. Then her teacher spoke seven soft words, words that broke open the floodgates of tears and changed Alice’s life forever: “I wish you were my little girl.”

In 1968 I left my New Zealand home to settle in Israel. I just came, without great means and not knowing what conditions to expect in this land. The Spirit of God pressed upon me to come here, and being unmarried, I undertook the journey alone.
But before coming to Israel I searched a map of this land for a place where I might go to stay, for I had no relatives here to welcome me. The only map of Israel in my possession was an old biblical map, and on it I found a place by the name of Zerin.
After arriving in Israel I discovered that a kibbutz was built next to the ruins of Zerin and that this was the ancient town of Jezreel, which name the kibbutz had adopted anew. Upon joining this kibbutz I was questioned as to why I chose that place rather than another, but at that time I was at a loss for an adequate reply.
For a few years I worked on the kibbutz, or farming commune, milking cows and helping to build up the land. I began to observe the laws of Moses, and I studied the Bible a great deal, although until I came to Israel I had no background in Judaism.
One day, while I was looking for a book to read in the kibbutz library, the librarian, who was nonreligious, handed me the Book of Mormon and said that I should read it. It had once been left in the library by a young Mormon volunteer worker who had spent a few months on the kibbutz. I was not interested in the Book of Mormon, but this lady, knowing I was spiritually inclined, was insistent that I read it, and so out of curiosity I took it with me.
When I began to read it, I greatly wondered at its contents, as I read of things that I had never supposed existed. I prayed about whether the things contained in the Book of Mormon were true, and indeed, just as promised in the admonition in the book, the Holy Spirit witnessed very strongly in me, and I began to take these writings seriously.
I read the Book of Mormon twice and then sent a letter addressed to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City, asking for further information. Back came a reply from the Missionary Department, with tracts and a letter of encouragement.
Through the tracts I learned of the existence of two books called the Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price, and I immediately sent for these also. Many things were pressing to be clarified to my mind, and I desired to have all the scriptural material that was available.
From studying these things in the light of the Mormon scriptures, I became increasingly convinced of the truth of the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ as taught by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Within a year I earnestly sought to be baptized, but I was unable to locate any Latter-day Saints. At the government information services I was told that the Church had no presence in Israel; and when I followed up addresses of Saints forwarded to me by the Switzerland Mission, I received no answer. It was not until three years after first reading the Book of Mormon that I met any Mormons.
While studying Oral Law in a yeshiva, or Jewish Talmudic school, on Mount Zion, I came across an advertisement of Latter-day Saint services on a torn piece of newspaper. Immediately I contacted the brethren of the Jerusalem Branch, which before President Harold B. Lee’s recent visit to the Holy Land was still called the Israel Group, a non-Israeli congregation of about thirty souls, the majority being children.
For some weeks I secretly attended meetings and further studied the gospel through the favor of the presidency of this branch. Early one morning, the day I left the yeshiva, some brethren gathered at the Pool of Shiloam, and there I was baptized. The day following, at the house of the branch president, I was ordained a priest, both these ordinances having been carried out by President David B. Galbraith and his first counselor, Elder John Tvedtnes, from whom I took further instruction in the gospel.

Several years ago I was serving as a branch president in Hong Kong that covers the entire Kowloon Peninsula. I got a call from the missionaries that this family from Nepal was investigating the Church and asked if I could meet with them.
The address was clear out of the way in the new territories but I went anyway. I was invited into this small apartment where a father, a mother, and three teenage boys lived. The area is less than 300 square feet and there was no furniture, they slept on the floor.
The father speaks broken English and I could not understand too much of it. With the help of one of the sons interpreting, I found out more about this family: the father worked as a security guard and the mother swept the streets. The two older brothers, both have had one year of college in Nepal studying physics and math, could not afford to go to universities in Hong Kong. They were working as hard labor in construction sites.
Looking at their meager living condition, I asked the father what I could do for the family. I was expecting something like financial aid or something. But, through his son, the father said, "I want to move my family closer to the church, and I want my sons go to university..." Now that was a tall order.
But as I looked into his eyes, I was impressed with the simple faith of this good man. I said, "Can we have a prayer together? I am going to ask you to say the prayer, in your own language..." I knelt down and the father and the family followed.
I do not speak Nepali BUT I knew the father poured out his heart to our Heavenly Father for he was choking up during the prayer and I felt the spirit was there. It was a long prayer. While the father prayed, something came to my mind, what it was I did not know, but I knew that it has something to do with the family's desire. I simply could not blot that out of my mind. And that something was at the back of the Tsuen Wan Chapel. A long distance away.
It was so clear to me that I saw it in my mind again and again.
When the father finished his prayer, we got up from the floor. I wanted to leave and asked him if he could take me to the bus stop so I can take the bus to the Chapel. I remembered feeling like Nephi "And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do." (1 Nephi 4:7). But when I get to the back of the chapel, there was a bulletin board with lots of paper ads on it. Most of the ads were about rooms for rent. one of the ad caught my eye, not because of the color or the shape of the ad, but because of the address. It was 100 yards from the chapel! I called the number and it was a rental agency, I asked if it was vacant and it was. To make the long story short, I was able to make arrangement for this family to rent the place.
In answering the earnest prayer of a father, I gain inspiration and became the instrument of the Lord in moving this family from the new territories to only 100 yards to the chapel.
You'll be interested to know the rest of the story; the whole family was baptized, sealed in the temple. They met President Shumway when he was visiting Hong Kong. Both of the sons received their mission calls and one of them served here in Hawaii, completed his mission and is now studying at BYU-Hawaii. He's Brother Hemal Pun who offered the invocation this morning.

Olá! My name is Alice, and I try to SHINE MY LIGHT by SHOWING GRATITUDE!
I live in Brazil with my parents and sister and brother. My sister Julia and I play the piano for sacrament meeting in our ward.
One Sunday, a man named Brother Stahlke gave us a present. He said it was a gift to thank us for the music we played on Sundays. When we opened the box, we found a special kind of flute inside! I put the flute together and started playing. I was enchanted by the sound.
Soon I started playing hymns on the flute. I wanted to do something to thank Brother Stahlke for the gift. So I practiced the hymn “How Great the Wisdom and the Love” (Hymns, no. 195). I asked my dad to take me to Brother Stahlke’s house so I could show him that his gift helped me discover a new talent.
When I played for Brother Stahlke, he was very happy and emotional. He told me that he had a dream about this hymn the night before! I felt the love of God for him and for me.
When we show gratitude, the Lord blesses us with happy feelings from the Holy Ghost.

They’ll both tell you that the Church and its teachings have helped them in every phase of their lives. From the time they first became brothers, gospel teachings were evident. Brent was adopted as a baby, and Bill, along with his sister Karla, was adopted from Korea at the age of five. In preparing five-year-old Brent for his new brother and sister, their father, Roland Hiltscher, told him, “You know, your toys and things will be new to them when they first come. What will you do if they break them?”

“I’d tell them that’s all right, because sometimes I break them too,” responded Brent.
More recently, their church experience helped them with their election. Since they’d been brought up giving talks in church, they weren’t too nervous when they had to give speeches to the entire student body. And they say that leadership positions in the Church help them with leadership positions at school.
The brothers claim that seminary has also helped them. “Going to church just once a week wouldn’t cut it,” says Brent. “Around school, it’s not always easy thinking about church things. But if you go to seminary every day, it helps you keep your mind where it should be.”
With all that involvement, however, they don’t flaunt their religion. “I don’t run around saying, ‘Ho—I’m a Mormon, so I’m cool, and you’re not,’” Bill says. “But I don’t try to hide it from anyone. It’s just a fact of my life—like having dark hair. If other people accept it, fine. If they don’t, that’s fine too.”
People usually accept it. Mormonism is pretty widespread in southern California, and most people have at least a marginal knowledge of it. But there are some people in the community who are decidedly anti-Mormon. How do Brent and Bill handle that? “Some of our friends hear wild, terrible stories about the things we supposedly believe, but most of them realize that what they’ve been told is wrong,” says Brent. “They get a pretty good impression of what Mormons are about and what we do by the way we act.”
But there is also a lonely side to being known as LDS. As well liked as the Hiltschers are, there are some activities, particularly on the weekends, that the brothers are excluded from. “Sometimes we wish there wouldn’t be drinking at the parties so we would go,” Brent explained. “But it’s not like we wish we could drink. A lot of weekends, we just go our separate ways from our school friends.”
What do they do then? They found an answer one weekend when they decided to throw a party of their own. They had lots of games, lots of food, and lots of fun. That showed their school friends that you can have fun without drinking. The Hiltschers are also heavily involved in Church and school activities, homework, stake dances, service projects, part-time jobs (Bill tutors, Brent assists their father with his professional photography). They don’t have an awful lot of time to sit around and mope.
Now, just because these two brothers share the same standards and values doesn’t necessarily mean they’re clones of each other. “We both have a lot of strengths and weaknesses,” says Bill. “But it seems that my weaknesses are Brent’s strengths, and vice versa. I sometimes think that a better person would be made if you combined us both in one. For example, in academics, Brent seems to have this talent for English, history, and social science, while I have a talent for math and sciences.”
And the differences don’t stop there. They range from taste in food (Brent likes it plain and simple, Bill likes it hot and spicy) to basic personality types—Bill goes more with his mind, while Brent goes more with his heart. Bill leans more toward being intellectual, while Brent leans more toward being athletic, although they’ve both participated in sports and get good grades. Their differences show, though, that there is not one ideal way to be in order to be accepted.
Fitting in with your family is another important aspect of acceptance that the Hiltschers talk about. “Our parents are really supportive of the things we do, but we had to earn their trust,” Brent says. “Back in junior high, it seemed like they wouldn’t let us do anything we wanted to, but now they trust us.”
How did they earn that trust? “By hanging around with good people who have the same standards we do, for one thing,” says Bill. “Our parents know that we won’t go out looking for trouble with our friends. We also always try to be where we say we’ll be when we say we’ll be there, and we call if we’re going to be late. That helps,” he adds.
All this doesn’t mean these two are perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, and they’ll be the first to tell you that. Like any brothers, especially so close in age (they’re four months apart), they have their fights. And fears and pressures affect them as much as anyone else. Brent’s main fear in life is of unintentionally offending someone. Bill worries about the future and what it will hold for him.
The near future, however, they have mapped out already. Once they graduate from high school, they’ll attend college until they’re 19, and then serve missions. There will be more schooling when they return. Bill is thinking about becoming an engineer or architect, and Brent would like to maybe teach high school, or join in the family photography business.
Wherever they fit in the future, they’ve managed to fit in the present pretty well. Their secret lies in Bill’s advice to others: “Don’t try to change yourself to fit in with someone else. Know who you are. Then look around and find others who fit with you.”

Sixteen-year-old Kevin S. listened from his hospital bed as a letter from his stake president was read to him.
The Spirit filled the room and his pain seemed to fade away as he received a call to help with family history. His age and circumstances made the calling unusual, but he knew the Lord would help him do it.
Ever since Kevin was a child, he had learned that no matter how impossible the task seemed, he could accomplish it. As long as he focused on what he could do, the Lord would provide a way. This calling would be no different.
At one year old, Kevin struggled to do many things that other babies do naturally. By age two, he started walking, but his parents noticed that he was very weak. Shortly after Kevin’s second birthday, he was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD), which causes intense exhaustion and progressively weakens muscles.
Growing up with DMD has been hard for Kevin, but he never lets that get in the way of doing what the Lord wants him to do. A tray on his wheelchair helps him pass the sacrament, and he home teaches outside people’s homes if his wheelchair can’t go inside. He lives by this motto: “If you have the desire to do something, you can do it.” Kevin does this by focusing on the things he can do rather than the things he can’t.
You might be surprised to hear all the things Kevin does. For one thing, anyone who knows him would say he’s incredibly shy. But just as with many other obstacles in Kevin’s life, the Lord gave Kevin opportunities to work around his shyness and reach out to others.
Just after Kevin turned 15, one of his close friends started falling away from the gospel. Kevin wanted to help his friend come back. But he had never even borne his testimony out loud before—how was he supposed to do it now? “Facebook,” he thought. Kevin hadn’t used social media before, but if there was a good reason to start, this was it.
So Kevin began recording his testimony, typing out messages, and sending uplifting videos to this friend and others through social media. This was something he could do.
He started wondering if he could influence more people for good. He created a Facebook page to inspire others to live the Articles of Faith. His courage to bear his testimony also increased, and he began to reach out to others over the phone.
As Kevin’s desire to share the gospel grew, so did his testimony of missionary work. Kevin wanted more than anything to serve a mission, but he knew that as his condition worsened, it was more and more unlikely.
The next year a member of Kevin’s stake spoke on the importance of family history indexing. That day Kevin went straight home, created an LDS Account, and began to index. Because of his illness, Kevin had a hard time in school, and reading was a challenge. He spent hours at his computer searching for letters he could recognize. Yet, one by one, he matched the letters on the screen with the letters on the computer keyboard. He soon began to understand the importance and impact of family history work, so he made a Duty to God goal to index a number of names.
Halfway to the goal, however, his disease began to spread even more rapidly. He lost much of the mobility in his arms and couldn’t reach the computer keyboard. A hard trial? Yes. But impossible to overcome? No.
Kevin knew that if the Lord wanted him to accomplish his goal, He would again provide a way. And that’s what happened.
In December 2014, Kevin invited the youth from his stake to help him reach his goal. About 40 youth responded. Most of them had never indexed before, yet they too felt the importance of family history work and the desire to help their friend in need. So they planned a day when they could get together, bring computers, and bring in a few indexing gurus to help them take on the challenge.
When the day came to begin indexing names for Kevin’s goal, the youth from the stake video-conferenced Kevin so that he and his family could watch them from his hospital room. Kevin had never realized he had so many friends—even friends he thought he’d been unsuccessful in reaching out to joined in the effort to help.
That day the young men and young women of Kevin’s stake indexed hundreds of names. By the end of the year, they had met Kevin’s goal—and then some.
That day in the hospital, as Kevin sat in his bed and listened to his calling from the stake president being read to him, he thought again about how the Lord provides a way to accomplish His purposes. Though Kevin’s health prevented him from serving a full-time proselyting mission, Kevin still knew that the Lord would allow him the opportunity to serve and bless others in some way.
Kevin hasn’t led an easy life. He has endured many challenges, and his prayers certainly haven’t always been answered in the way he expected. But through all of his experiences, Kevin has learned what it means to put his trust in the Savior and to be trusted by the Savior. Whatever the Lord wants him to do, the Lord knows he can do it—and so does Kevin.
Kevin knows that as long as he puts forth his whole effort, the Lord will bless him and also make up the difference for whatever he isn’t able to do. As Kevin’s favorite scripture says, “The Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7). “It’s not about what I can do,” Kevin says. “It’s about what we can do.”

During World War II, President James E. Faust, then a young enlisted man in the United States Army, applied for officer candidate school. He appeared before a board of inquiry composed of what he described as “hard-bitten career soldier[s].” After a while their questions turned to matters of religion. The final questions were these:
“In times of war should not the moral code be relaxed? Does not the stress of battle justify men in doing things that they would not do when at home under normal situations?”
President Faust relates:
“I recognized that here was a chance perhaps to make some points and look broad-minded. I knew perfectly well that the men who were asking me this question did not live by the standards that I had been taught. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps I could say that I had my own beliefs but did not wish to impose them on others. But there seemed to flash before my mind the faces of the many people to whom I had taught the law of chastity as a missionary. In the end I simply said, ‘I do not believe there is a double standard of morality.’
“I left the hearing resigned to the fact that [they] would not like the answers I had given … and would surely score me very low. A few days later when the scores were posted, to my astonishment I had passed. I was in the first group taken for officer’s candidate school! …
“This was one of the critical crossroads of my life.”

It was Christmas morning and my six-year-old little brother, Andrew, was the first one to sneak out of bed. When I woke up and went looking for him a little while later, I couldn’t believe what I found. There he was, under the tree, having just opened all of my presents!
Mom and Dad were still asleep in bed. So was my baby sister. Right then, it was just Andrew, me, and my opened Christmas gifts. As I watched him play with a model airplane that I now wouldn’t get to open, I became angry. My Christmas was ruined!
As my anger grew, I decided that I really needed to stop and pray for help to not be mad. So I did. Almost immediately, I felt a little calmer. Then I looked at Andrew more closely, and a funny thing happened. That huge grin on his face made me smile too. I mean, he was so happy! Then I couldn’t help it. I started laughing! Before long the whole thing felt hilarious. I mean, how could I stay angry with my little brother when he was so excited?
That Christmas morning, I learned the importance of stopping to pray whenever bad feelings start to develop. After all, Christmas is supposed to be a happy holiday, not an angry one.

A few years ago, as it was nearing Christmas, I found myself confronted with a very full schedule. The streets were crowded, my calendar was crowded, and my mind was crowded. There was so much to do and so little time. An invitation to give a brief Christmas message to the residents of a nursing home nearby was one activity I could check off rather quickly and then hurriedly move to the next appointment.

As I rushed past the receptionist at the door of the nursing home, I was ushered into a large room where I suddenly stopped. Life was moving at a different pace here, if it was moving at all. There were wheelchairs, bent shoulders, gray hair, tired eyes, and the impression of so little going on. I reviewed quickly in my mind the message I had planned to share and hoped that it would fit and lift some heart, or at least be appropriate for this occasion. It was warm in the room but, in spite of this fact, many of the elderly had knitted shawls draped over rounded shoulders and woolly slippers covering tired feet.

Following my message, one of the visitors, a granddaughter of one of the elderly, asked if I would have time to visit with her grandmother in her own private room for even a few moments. She made the comment, “She thinks she knows you,” indicating perhaps that her grandmother’s mind might also be tired. I agreed that I could take a few moments, and I followed behind as the younger woman helped this elderly sister down the narrow hall back to her room. This dear lady reached her bedside, then shuffled haltingly as she turned around, let go of her granddaughter, and dropped onto the side of her bed. She then raised her head so that I could look into her face. My eyes caught hers. “Sister Myrtle Dudley,” I said, “you were my Primary teacher.”

The wrinkles on her face formed a smile as she pulled on her granddaughter’s jacket and said, “See, I told you she would know me.”

I continued, “I remember when you used to lead the singing. You wore that wine-colored dress with the big sleeves that waved back and forth as you taught us the songs.”

Again she pulled on her granddaughter’s jacket. “I told you she would know me.”

“Yes,” I said, “and you made carrot juice for my mother when she was sick.”

The she asked, “Did you come all the way from Canada just to see me?”

“Oh, Sister Dudley,” I said, “I have come a long way. It has been over forty years.” She then reached out her arms and drew me close to her. I felt like a child once again, back in Primary, in the arms of my teacher who loved me.

Then she whispered in my ear, “I knew you would know me.”

There in the arms of my Primary teacher the world stood still for a moment. The busy streets were forgotten. The crowded calendar was no longer pressing on my mind. The spirit of Christmas filled my soul. A small miracle was taking place, not because of what I brought but because of what I had received.

After a time, I reluctantly and thoughtfully left the presence of my Primary teacher and walked slowly back to my car. I sat there pondering while the snowflakes of the season fell gently on the windshield that was piling high with snow. It was the season of celebration for the birth of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. It was he who asked us to love one another and to serve one another. He said to each of us, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).

“Yes,” I thought, “I knew her because she had served me, and she knew me because she had served me.” And then the vision cleared before my eyes like windshield wipers removing the snow. We will know Him when we serve Him, and He will know us when we serve Him. This question filed my mind: “Can I one day say with the same conviction with which Sister Dudley spoke, ‘I told you He would know me’?”

What if I hadn’t taken time to do what mattered most, when in the press of the moment it seemed to matter least? I don’t do those things enough, but when I do I know it is in the Lord’s service that we qualify best to be called his disciples.

Recently I listened as a couple complained that they had few interests in common. She liked to read; he didn’t. He played racquetball, but physical problems kept her from doing so. The list of differences went on and on. I asked if there wasn’t just one interest they shared. They shook their heads. Finally I suggested they take a ceramics class together. Neither had tried anything like that, so it gave them a new, common interest. The effect was unbelievable. As they worked toward a common goal, the excitement of growing together helped them gradually forget their differences.

I would like to tell you a baseball story. The event of which I speak occurred in the World Series of 1912. It was the last game, and the score was tied 1–1. The Boston Red Sox were at bat, the New York Giants in the field. A Boston batter knocked a high-arching fly. Two New York players ran for it. Center fielder Fred Snodgrass signaled that he would take it. He came squarely under the ball, which fell into his glove—then went right through his hands and fell to the ground! The roaring fans couldn’t believe it. He had caught hundreds of fly balls before. But now, at this crucial moment, he had dropped the ball. The Boston Red Sox won the series.
Snodgrass played brilliant ball for nine more years. But after that one slip, when he was introduced to anybody, the expected response was, “Oh, yes, you’re the one who dropped the ball.”

An example of tobacco’s powerful hold is illustrated in a letter which was written by a mother to the popular columnist and human relations adviser Ann Landers:
“Dear Ann Landers:
“A year ago our two-year-old son, Earl, had difficulty breathing, so we took him to a doctor. We learned Earl is allergic to cigarette smoke. My husband said we both had to quit smoking right then and there. He hasn’t touched a cigarette since. I went back to smoking that same night.
“My husband doesn’t know I smoke. I have to sneak around and smoke in the basement, and it is making a nervous wreck out of me. Do you think it would be wrong if we let a nice couple adopt little Earl—a nice couple who don’t smoke? The only problem is that my husband is crazy about the boy. I love him too, but I am more the practical type. What do you think, Ann?
“/s/ Mrs. E. R. M.
“Dear Mrs. E. R. M.:
“I think a lot of people who read this letter are going to say I made it up. It’s utterly fantastic that a mother would put cigarettes ahead of her own child. Don’t present your wild idea to your husband. I wouldn’t blame him if he decided to keep little Earl and unload you!”

On 22 October we held an outside lighting up ceremony, conducted by Sister Yvonne Kerr. Besides members of the ward, we had in attendance invited guests who included the lord lieutenant of Clackmannanshire, Lt Col (Retd) Johnny Stewart, and the most senior member of the Alloa Ward, Sister Dorothy Kendall, who pushed a button that lit up the monumental display. Esther Wilford beautifully sang Vera Lynn’s “When The Lights Go on Again, All over The World” and “I Vow to Thee My Country”. One of our Primary children, Emma Black, read the much-quoted lines from ‘For the Fallen’ by Laurence Binyon. People passing stopped to join the crowd, inside and outside of the fencing surrounding the grounds.
Just before the button was pressed to illuminate the display, we acknowledged to the assembled crowd, many who were not members of our Church, that as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we try to put Christ at the centre of all we do and it was in His name that on that night and during the season of remembrance, we honour those from World War I and World War II who fought and fell to give us our freedom, but the display also honours and gives reverence to those in the past and those who currently protect our land, shores, and skies from unseen enemies. They are the real heroes, and that really is what the display is about.

Thanks so much for the article “Picture This” (Sept. 1994). I decided to put a picture of Christ in my locker too. It took me a few days to actually put it up, but when I did I noticed an instant change in myself, in the way I thought about and treated other people. Now every day at school I look at myself in my mirror, then at the picture of Christ, and it reminds me to be as Christlike as possible. Being one of only four members of the Church at my school, I feel like it’s an example, not only to my member friends, but to other people as well.
Cari RickabaughSturtevant, Wisconsin