Gospel Story Finder

In second grade, when Lyle was playing at his friend’s house, he was introduced to an Atari computer and computer games. “When I told my dad how neat it was and that we should get games like that for our computer, he told me, jokingly, ‘People make those games. Why don’t you make your own?’”

Lyle remembers, even at age seven, being impressed. “It hadn’t occurred to me. Grandpa had given us an old computer, and there were these college programming books with it. I pulled all those out and started looking through them and started typing in program listings. I was amazed. The computer was doing what I told it to do.”

At that young age, Lyle started teaching himself to program. Shortly after, Lyle wrote a program for a game called Maze Craze. “It has a stick man running through a maze. The stick man painted everywhere he had been. You couldn’t get back because it was poison paint, and the walls would shock you if you touched them. If you stayed in one place too long, you died. It was way too hard. I couldn’t play it.”

Little by little Lyle was finding ways to teach himself the things he needed to learn. He struggled to glean information from books that were way above his level. His dad would bring books home for him. And he would try to imitate things he saw others had done. “I didn’t know you have to go through college and work for years and years. I think being naive helped me because I was looking at it as if these men were playing around too.”

His mother and dad, Lisa and Chuck, couldn’t help a great deal. They freely admit to being computer illiterate. Plus taking care of Lyle and his two sisters and four brothers occupied all their time.

Lisa says, “When Lyle would try to explain something he was working on, all I could say was, ‘That’s nice, dear.’” But, over the years, she helped Lyle overcome obstacles like finding ways to enter the regional science fair when his school didn’t hold a local fair.

Lyle still wanted a robot. “My parents wouldn’t buy me one. They wouldn’t buy one of those toys. I would have all these ideas, and Dad would say, ‘Write the plans down first.’” And he found ways for Lyle to earn money while they were building their house. “I dug fence post holes, hodded brick, planted trees, did stuff like that. Dad said, ‘I’ve got to hire somebody; I might as well hire you.’”

Then, while on a river running trip with his Scout troop, Lyle walked into a convenience store late at night and saw a magazine on the rack that had the headline “Build Your Own Robot.” “I bought it and read it all the way through while everyone slept. There were things I didn’t understand at all, but that was okay. That article was my main source of information.” Looking back, Lyle comments, “Pitiful, wasn’t it?”

Lyle started building robots. At first, nothing seemed to work right because, as he later found out, he didn’t know enough. Then he needed to learn how to build things carefully. Finally, he built a robot that worked. His goal was now to make it to the international science fair. But he lost. He took third in the state competition.

“I was extremely disappointed. I stood back and said, ‘Why, what happened? There’s a reason I only took third. There is a reason that this other project beat mine.’ I looked at it for a while. I decided I could keep better records. I could have a better paper. There should be no doubt in the judges’ minds that I built this. I needed to know everything about it. I’ve got to have a better presentation.” By the time Lyle finished analyzing why he lost, he was ready to go to work again.

Lyle’s next robot took him to the international science fair. Again, he was blown away by the competition. But that was okay. Here were people like him. They didn’t sit and waste time. They would get ideas and say, Let’s do it. He came to see what it would take to win the next year.

The next year, Iris was born. Lyle said, “I thought of a lot of things, but other people had tried them and they didn’t work. I was in over my head. But I’m always in over my head. I found out that there is another way to have a robot ‘see’ other than using big, huge, complex computers. It was to simplify things. All the robot needs to recognize is one object—the floor. Anything that’s not the floor must be an obstacle.”

This time, Lyle knew what he needed to do to succeed. He kept meticulous records. He perfected his presentation. And he made sure Iris was working at her best. He knew his information backward and forward.

While at the international competition in Louisville, Kentucky, disaster struck. Iris’s eye—the digital camera—was damaged in shipping. An hour before his presentation, Lyle had the camera apart, working on it. “As soon as something goes wrong, especially at the science fair, there is no time for sitting back and wondering. You have to do something and do it now. No sense getting angry. It’s a waste of time. When the eye broke, I started diagnosing it. How am I going to fix it? How am I going to change my display? That’s one thing my dad teaches. You can’t be a victim. It’s up to you to make sure things are going right for you. Is your teacher a jerk? It doesn’t matter. It’s up to you to get a grade. You can’t leave it up to somebody else or put the blame on somebody else.”

Lyle goes on, “In my high school, there is no science fair. So I found a teacher to sign the papers. There is no mentor. But there are books. You are never stuck. There’s always something you can try as long as you’re willing to work hard.”

This time Lyle and Iris took some honors. He won the prestigious U.S. Army Gold Medal for Science and Engineering. And he took second prize in the fair’s engineering division.

All those times when Lyle didn’t win, he was disappointed for a while. Then he started figuring out what he needed to do to improve. “When I’d lose, I’d say, ‘Now I know how bad I did,’” explained Lyle. “Now I know what I’ve got to do. What am I going to do different?”

So robots must be the most important things in Lyle’s life? Not even close. “Family for me is the biggest, most important thing in my life. It wasn’t always like that. But it’s my family, specifically my parents and extended family, that keep me centered.”

Lyle says he is not the kind of person who accepts things on faith very easily. “It took me a while to realize that the Spirit of the Lord is a substantial, real thing, not just a belief.”

When Lyle’s younger brother Skyler was being ordained a deacon, Lyle was gathered with his father, uncles, and cousins in a circle to help with the ordination. “I thought, What could be better than to spend eternity with these people? I would do anything for anybody in this circle. The Spirit was very strong. That’s when I started thinking, It’s real, it’s substantial, it’s God’s power, and it’s been here all along. The thing I see happening in the family, the spirit that can be there, is the most important thing to me. I’d drop robots right now if the choice was between them and my family. I’m playing with little toys that pale in comparison to that.”

Now Lyle can build robots. He has reached one of the goals he has had all his life. Of course, he always wants to build another one that’s bigger and better than the last. But robots are not number one. His goals have changed, have expanded, to take in eternal things. He hasn’t got it all figured out yet, but all those years of being in a little over his head have taught him a few things: keep trying, keep working hard, keep praying, and keep learning. The answers are out there. And the most important ones come through music, through the feelings of the heart, and through a still, small voice.

There are worlds to conquer, but Lyle has found that the only one that really matters is the one that starts at home and leads to eternity.

Elders Upshaw and Jean Louis introduced the gospel to my family in 2007 when I was only 6. Challenges in our life continued but the special feelings of truth and eternal happiness for our family kept us faithful. My mom’s desire for me to serve a mission held a lot of power even when the worldly interests called me in a different direction, I felt the strength to finally hear the Spirit and follow the Savior. This mission has been a growing experience, and I am thankful for all those that got me here.

Three months after I arrived in Vietnam, just about dusk one evening, a radio call came in to the operations office requesting a patient pickup at an insecure landing zone (meaning our forces were still in contact with the enemy).
As our helicopter followed a river through the Tuy Hoa Valley into a mountain pass, we were enveloped in torrential rain. It was extremely difficult to locate the landing area. Soldiers on the ground directed us with a flashlight beam.
We wanted to land up the slope from the casualty to allow those transporting him more clearance from the rotor blade. Turbulent winds whipped across the uneven terrain, causing the chopper to fishtail wildly and aborting our first landing attempt. This also meant the enemy had seen our landing spot and would be preparing to fire on us. A lull in the wind allowed us to land, and enemy tracers ripped like fiery baseballs through the night.
Our friendly forces returned fire. We made a hasty pick-up of the wounded and asked for flares to be shot into the sky to illuminate the surrounding mountains as we departed through lightning, thunder, and heavy rain. A few bursts of enemy ground fire bid us farewell.
As a result of this action, I was recommended for a DFC. But the recommendation was reviewed and downgraded to an Air Medal with a “V” for valor. I was disappointed, but remembered my promise to the Lord and was satisfied that my life had been spared.

I remember fondly our entire family’s great joy when two of our children received their calls to serve as full-time missionaries. Excitement and anticipation filled our hearts as they each opened their special letter from the prophet of God. Our daughter Jenessa was called to the Michigan Detroit Mission, and our son, Christian, was called to the Russia Moscow South Mission. What humbling and thrilling experiences, all at the same time!

As Sister Rasband and I had the privilege of presiding over the New York New York North Mission several years ago, I marveled as the missionaries arrived in New York City.
As I interviewed them on their first day in the mission, I had a profound sense of gratitude for each missionary. I felt that their call to our mission was divinely designed for them and for me as their mission president.
After finishing our mission assignment, I was called by President Gordon B. Hinckley to serve as a Seventy in the Church. Part of my early training as a new General Authority included an opportunity to sit with members of the Twelve as they assigned missionaries to serve in one of the 300-plus missions of this great Church.
With the encouragement and permission of President Henry B. Eyring, I would like to relate to you an experience, very special to me, which I had with him several years ago when he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. Each Apostle holds the keys of the kingdom and exercises them at the direction and assignment of the President of the Church. Elder Eyring was assigning missionaries to their fields of labor, and as part of my training, I was invited to observe.
I joined Elder Eyring early one morning in a room where several large computer screens had been prepared for the session. There was also a staff member from the Missionary Department who had been assigned to assist us that day.
First, we knelt together in prayer. I remember Elder Eyring using very sincere words, asking the Lord to bless him to know “perfectly” where the missionaries should be assigned. The word “perfectly” said much about the faith that Elder Eyring exhibited that day.
As the process began, a picture of the missionary to be assigned would come up on one of the computer screens. As each picture appeared, to me it was as if the missionary were in the room with us. Elder Eyring would then greet the missionary with his kind and endearing voice: “Good morning, Elder Reier or Sister Yang. How are you today?”
He told me that in his own mind he liked to think of where the missionaries would conclude their mission. This would aid him to know where they were to be assigned. Elder Eyring would then study the comments from the bishops and stake presidents, medical notes, and other issues relating to each missionary.
He then referred to another screen which displayed areas and missions across the world. Finally, as he was prompted by the Spirit, he would assign the missionary to his or her field of labor.
From others of the Twelve, I have learned that this general method is typical each week as Apostles of the Lord assign scores of missionaries to serve throughout the world.
Having served as a missionary in my own country in the Eastern States Mission a number of years ago, I was deeply moved by this experience. Also, having served as a mission president, I was grateful for a further witness in my heart that the missionaries I had received in New York City were sent to me by revelation.
After assigning a few missionaries, Elder Eyring turned to me as he pondered one particular missionary and said, “So, Brother Rasband, where do you think this missionary should go?” I was startled! I quietly suggested to Elder Eyring that I did not know and that I did not know I could know! He looked at me directly and simply said, “Brother Rasband, pay closer attention and you too can know!” With that, I pulled my chair a little closer to Elder Eyring and the computer screen, and I did pay much closer attention!
A couple of other times as the process moved along, Elder Eyring would turn to me and say, “Well, Brother Rasband, where do you feel this missionary should go?” I would name a particular mission, and Elder Eyring would look at me thoughtfully and say, “No, that’s not it!” He would then continue to assign the missionaries where he had felt prompted.
As we were nearing the completion of that assignment meeting, a picture of a certain missionary appeared on the screen. I had the strongest prompting, the strongest of the morning, that the missionary we had before us was to be assigned to Japan. I did not know that Elder Eyring was going to ask me on this one, but amazingly he did. I rather tentatively and humbly said to him, “Japan?” Elder Eyring responded immediately, “Yes, let’s go there.” And up on the computer screen the missions of Japan appeared. I instantly knew that the missionary was to go to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
Elder Eyring did not ask me the exact name of the mission, but he did assign that missionary to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
Privately in my heart I was deeply touched and sincerely grateful to the Lord for allowing me to experience the prompting to know where that missionary should go.
At the end of the meeting Elder Eyring bore his witness to me of the love of the Savior, which He has for each missionary assigned to go out into the world and preach the restored gospel. He said that it is by the great love of the Savior that His servants know where these wonderful young men and women, senior missionaries, and senior couple missionaries are to serve. I had a further witness that morning that every missionary called in this Church, and assigned or reassigned to a particular mission, is called by revelation from the Lord God Almighty through one of these, His servants.

Her mother expected her to continue with her university education and earn a master’s degree. “But I told her I wanted to go on a mission. She said that I couldn’t, that I mustn’t sacrifice the years I should be in school. I prayed very hard that my mom would let me go. And then I learned something very important.
“You see, we had a young man living in our home. He was about twenty-five years old and was like an adopted son to my mother. His health was poor, and my mother took care of him and supported him when he served for a time as a Buddhist monk. I was very jealous of him and of the attention my mother paid him. I wouldn’t even sit at the same table with him.
“When I prayed to Heavenly Father for my mom to let me go on a mission, I received the answer that first I would have to show her that I loved everyone, even the young man I was so jealous of. It was a very hard thing for me to accept. But the next morning when I saw the young man, I waved at him and said ‘Hi!’ It was the first word I had said to him in seven years. When I turned to face my mother, she had tears in her eyes. I knew then that everything would be all right. I told her that I really wanted to go on a mission and that her support was most important. I really appreciate all that my mother has done for me.”

I had always dreamed that I would study something relating to medicine. And as a missionary I learned that the Lord always prepares the way for His children to achieve what He desires them to do.
Shortly after my mission, I met a young woman named Fabiola at institute. We began dating and fell deeply in love. The Holy Ghost confirmed to me that I should ask her to be my eternal companion, so I proposed and she accepted. As we planned our future, we realized that my salary would not be sufficient for the necessities of daily living. Fabiola offered to continue working for a time to support me as I finished school. But that would take quite a bit of time, and we wanted to have a family. So we prayed to Heavenly Father for His help. We wanted to do His will.
During my mission I had heard President Gordon B. Hinckley speak about the Perpetual Education Fund. As a returned missionary, I had attended some meetings at the institute about the PEF program. My eyes were opened and my hopes encouraged; I knew it was a program that could help my future family progress. So I spoke with Fabiola, and we set goals regarding my education.
I decided to study physical therapy. I wanted to wait a while to fill out my PEF application, but my fiancée insisted I do it right then. I submitted my loan request in December 2001, and also that month—on 22 December—Fabiola and I were sealed in the Mexico City temple. My loan was approved in January 2002, and I started school soon after.
One day when I was making a tuition payment, I met the director of my school. During our conversation I mentioned that I was a member of the Church and explained the PEF program to him. He told me he knew some Latter-day Saints and they were good people. He also said he had had some LDS students.
After I had attended one month of classes, the director invited me to finish my major early by taking double classes, graduating in 14 months instead of 24. I explained to him that I would not be able to pay the extra tuition until the next year when I renewed my loan, but he told me that my word was good enough since I was a Latter-day Saint. So again I was blessed. I began taking more classes, even though this required more studying and more hours in class, while continuing my part-time job.
I was amazed as I attended school how the Lord blessed me by increasing my knowledge. As part of my education I have helped people who had back problems, scoliosis, sprains, sciatica, and neck pain. Helping others improve their health and their lives through rehabilitation therapy is a pleasure—and a dream that has become a reality.
Everything is going well. I am elders quorum president in my ward. By the time I graduated in April 2003, I had taken all the required steps to have my own practice, and Fabiola and I were expecting our first child.
I know that the Lord has established the PEF and that this program helps us to be self-reliant. With my new employment I can better provide for my family, serve in the Church, bless the lives of others, and pursue further studies at the university.
Our lives have changed thanks to the Church and the PEF program. I know that the lives of many young people can change if they will follow this inspired program.

I recall yet another story from another setting that has convinced me of the power of prayer.
A few years ago a young man named Dean from the Midwest was on a hunting trip with several Latter-day Saint friends from California. They met in Wyoming, drove up a mountain, and camped the night. When they awoke in the morning they found that during the night 14 inches of snow had fallen. The car was deep in snow near the edge of the road. Dean’s father-in-law, Roy, and brother-in-law, Ron, were skilled and rugged men, accustomed to adventure, but their skills could not help free the car. The snow continued to fall, and their chances of getting down from the mountain were slim.
Another member of the group was a counselor in his stake presidency, and because of the seriousness of their situation he asked the small group to assemble in prayer and plead with the Lord for help. Dean was asked to offer the prayer, and in deep humility he petitioned the Lord for direction. At the conclusion of the prayer one member of the group who was not a Church member asked Dean, “Do you think the Lord will answer your prayer?” Reflective and thoughtful, yet with full faith, this young man answered, “Yes, he has never disappointed me yet.” What faith!
Moments later Dean felt inclined to walk down the narrow, snow-laden path, and he stumbled upon a set of chains buried deep in the freshly fallen snow. They fastened the chains on the tires of the car, and the group slowly and cautiously made their way down the mountain.
A thousand miles away Dean’s parents had knelt in like fashion to petition the Lord. Two prayers had been answered.

Once there were two boys who lived next door to each other. Although they were of the same age, they couldn’t seem to get along together. Then one day, everything started to change. Here are the testimonies they recently gave at the Applewood Ward, Arvada Colorado Stake, where they are both deacons.
“Dear brothers and sisters, my talk is on friendship with my next-door neighbor, Shawn Bell, whom most of you know.
“When Shawn first moved next door, there was always trouble between us. The first day I saw Shawn, he threw a toy truck at me and hit me in the face, which gave me two scars, one underneath my nose and one above my left eye.
“When I was in kindergarten, I went to the morning class and Shawn went to the afternoon class. Shawn would wait for me on his way to school as I would be coming home. He would beat me and go on to school, and I would go home with a bleeding nose or a swollen lip.
“When I was nine, I was baptized into the Church. That’s when Shawn started going to church with me, and then last February he was baptized into the Church. Since Shawn and I have been going to Church together, we’ve acted like brothers and we’ve had fun in Scouts together. Scouting has helped Shawn and me do things together without much trouble.
“The meaning of this talk is the meaning of a fair friendship. I hope you, too, will bring one of your terrible enemies into the Church. I know the Church is true.” (Matt Taylor.)

Not too many days later, I got a phone call from a member of the Church I knew named Dave. He asked if I wanted to come to his house on Saturday night. He also invited me to join his family for dinner the next day. It sounded like a lot more fun than I was currently having with no friends, so I agreed.
Dave and I had a good time together—and, of course, there were no cigarettes or alcohol. As I listened to Dave’s dad say the prayer at dinner, I felt so good. I began to think that maybe—just maybe—things were getting better.
Dave and I became best friends. We played football together, went to school together, helped each other go on missions. When we got back, we were college roommates. We helped each other find the right women to marry and kept each other on the strait and narrow path all the way to the temple and after. All these years later, we’re still good friends. And it all started with a simple phone call, right when I needed it.

Gavin looked out the window. Big white snowflakes were falling softly to the ground. He grinned as he thought about all the fun he could have skiing and building snowmen. Gavin loved winter in Canada.
“Gavin?” Mom said.
Gavin blinked and turned back to the living room. It was family home evening, and the lesson was on service. But it was hard to pay attention!
Mom smiled. “I know you’re excited about the snow, but what are ways our family could help someone?”
Gavin looked out the window again. Snow was piling up on the driveways on his street. “Hey! What if we shoveled the Ramseys’ driveway?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Gavin’s big brother, Jensen, said. “They’d really like that.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dad said. “The Ramseys are getting older, and shoveling snow is hard for them.”
The next morning, Gavin’s family shoveled the Ramseys’ driveway. Gavin was glad they were doing it together. Even Gavin’s little sisters, Chloé and Kenzie, helped. The path Kenzie shoveled looked like a giant snake had slithered through the snow.
After scraping together the last pile of snow, Gavin gave his brother a high five. “We make a great team!” Jensen said.
“Yeah!” said Gavin. “We’re the Snow-Shovel Squad!”
After the next two snowstorms, the Snow-Shovel Squad happily shoveled both their driveway and the Ramseys’. One time, Mrs. Ramsey tried to pay them, but they politely said no.
“The Snow-Shovel Squad is a not-for-profit team,” Gavin explained.
That made Mrs. Ramsey laugh.
The snow kept coming. Shoveling two driveways got harder and harder. After a while, Mom and Dad had to remind the Snow-Shovel Squad how much they were needed.
One morning Gavin woke up especially excited. They were going skiing today! He looked outside and grinned. The snow looked perfect. He ran to find his skis. Soon everyone was packing the van for their trip.
Just as they buckled their seatbelts, Mom turned to look at them. “What about the Ramseys’ driveway?”
Gavin looked at Jensen. They had forgotten all about it.
“Can we do it later?” Jensen said. “We want to get to the mountain before it gets too busy!”
“OK,” Mom said, and Dad started the van.
But then Gavin glanced out his window. He could see Mr. Ramsey trying to clear his driveway. It looked like he could hardly lift his shovel.
“Wait, Dad,” Gavin said. “Mr. Ramsey needs the Snow-Shovel Squad right away!”
Everyone got out and grabbed their shovels.
“Sorry we’re late!” Gavin called out.
Mr. Ramsey smiled. “Thank you so much,” he said. “It would’ve taken me hours to shovel this driveway alone.” With the help of the Snow-Shovel Squad, the Ramseys’ driveway was snow-free in just a few minutes. After that, nobody had to remind Gavin about the Ramseys’ driveway. If it snowed, the Snow-Shovel Squad was out shoveling, sometimes even before breakfast. Sometimes it snowed so much they had to shovel two times in one day!
As the weeks went by, shoveling the driveways didn’t seem so hard. In fact, Gavin thought that helping the Ramseys was one of the best parts of winter. Then one day, he woke up and saw that the sun was warm and bright. The snow was melting down the driveway. How could he help others now that it was spring?

A while ago I met a boy, and this week I had the privilege of spending some time with him and his family. This boy has muscular atrophy. He is a remarkable young man, loved by everyone in the ward. He has always wanted to do the things the other fellows do. He has succeeded in Cub Scouting. He is now a First Class Scout and is progressing.

While Jay was a deacon, he passed the sacrament with the others. He can’t walk or stand on his feet, so his dad lined up with the other boys, holding Jay with his strong arm around his waist and helping him hold the tray, since his hands are not strong enough to support it. Jay’s father thus assisted his son from row to row as he passed the sacrament. Jay did a great job as a deacon collecting fast offerings too. His dad carried him from door to door. Can you imagine that scene on the doorstep?

Jay bears a strong testimony; his attitude and outlook are amazing. He gives talks and does well. He has sung in Church, and always when he does these things, his dad is there to hold him in his arms and stand by him and support him.

In all my life I never heard a sweeter story nor a more moving one. God bless such a father, and God bless such a son, and God bless us who have so much and who have yet a little time, that we may take another look at our boy or at the boy who needs some additional help outside his home. God bless you boys to appreciate your dads, to be patient and gracious and forgiving.

One young lady had a missionary experience that started on a shopping spree.
“A couple of weeks ago my mother and I were talking to the owner of a dress shop, and my mother was hinting around about how I had to wear my dresses long, and the lady didn’t say anything. Then my mother said, ‘It’s really cold where she’s going next fall.’ The lady said, ‘Oh, where’s that?’ Mom answered, ‘Brigham Young University.’ Then we talked a little bit about the Church, and the lady asked, ‘How does a person go about becoming a Mormon?’ My mother answered, ‘It’s easy.’
“We were interrupted right then, but we went back the next day so I could try on an outfit I had liked. We were trying to think of a way to start talking about the Church again when the lady walked over and said, ‘Do you remember what you said yesterday about it being easy to become a Mormon?’ My mother tried to look nonchalant and said, ‘Yes?’ The lady said, ‘Well, will you please explain that?’
“So we sat there talking for about three hours about the Church, and she just kept asking questions. She and her husband had gone to church after church after church, and nothing satisfied them. Every time we answered a question, she said, ‘That’s just what I’ve always believed.’ I think she had a testimony already, before she ever heard about the Church. So now she and her husband are taking missionary lessons, and I think she wants to be baptized. It’s pretty exciting.”

As I recall, Howard Washington Thurman once told a story about his mother, who lived in a community in which this White woman didn’t like the fact that she had a Black neighbor. And she would be mean to Mrs. Thurman. But Mrs. Thurman kept on going to church, rearing her children, being kind to everybody.

One day, [Howard’s] mother told him to get ready to go with her next door to see this lady who was ill. [Mrs. Thurman] cooked a bowl of soup, and they went over to the house. The lady said to her, “Oh, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

And Mrs. Thurman said, “No, but the love of Jesus told me I had to do it.”

And then she said, “Howard, go back over to the house and get those roses I left on the table.”

He came back with these beautiful red roses. And the sick woman said, “Oh my. What florist did you buy those roses from?”

And Mrs. Thurman said: “I didn’t buy those roses from any florist. When you were unkind to me, you would throw the chicken manure from your chicken coop over into my yard. But you didn’t know that while you were throwing the chicken manure, God was preparing the soil for me to grow my roses.”

So that’s what we’ve got to do in the midst of evil. Take the manure but have the faith in God to use it to grow a garden of roses.

That’s what we have to do. Be kind, do the right thing, and love and respect all people. They are God’s opportunity for you to touch their messy situations and leave them better than they were before.

“Should I keep these kinds of friends?” someone keeps asking, as if true friendship could be thrown out so casually. Maybe if you’d use the word acquaintance the question would be more valid.
A friend of ours (and most of us were recent converts) was getting into the drug culture with all its wrong attitudes and acts. Some might say we shouldn’t have kept this kind of friend, but we did. (Later he said that he had felt he was losing us even so, but this was because he had been failing to keep his part of the relationship.) At any rate, we didn’t throw him out of our lives for taking drugs, or for any of the other sins, small or great, that it led him to. Then we saw him turn to paths of repentance, and when he finally asked, we helped him climb back. The day of his temple marriage was a day of deep joy to us all.
Sharon DequerMunrovia, California

The Book of Mormon brought me a great desire to be accepted of the Lord. One night, my newborn daughter awakened me. I fed her, and she soon fell asleep, but I was left awake in the stillness of the night. I thought of the changes in my life and the many things that still needed to be changed. My thoughts were drawn to God, and I prayed, remembering the words of the Lamanite king who cried, “O God, … wilt thou make thyself known unto me, and I will give away all my sins to know thee.” (Alma 22:18.)
One by one, the Lord showed me my weaknesses. In the early hours of the morning, I received a sweet assurance, which I recorded in my journal and have pondered many times: “I am your Father. Your Father!”

My mother died when I was only six, and the longing to know her always gnawed at my heart, especially during my teen years. I wanted to know about her activities, her dates, her clothes, if she ever taught Sunday School (that was my job at the time). So when I was eighteen, I made a book and dedicated it to my future eighteen-year-old daughter, so that she would know about my life.
Then, several years after my marriage, my mother’s father gave me a small notebook he had found. It was a five-month diary of my mother’s, beginning with her high school graduation in 1917. How thrilled I was to read her own thoughts and feelings at last, rather than getting second-hand reports. I found out what her daily activities were: washing and scrubbing and cooking for her family since her own mother had died two years before.
But she found time for other things: in five months, she saw twenty-four movies. I found out about her dates, her excitement in traveling to the old Saltair resort on the shores of the Great Salt Lake, of strolling through Liberty Park in Salt Lake City on Sunday afternoon, and of faithfully, every week, teaching her Sunday School class.
Then, in the fall of 1975, a cousin brought from California a photo album that had belonged to my mother’s sister, containing several dozen photos of my mother. My heart’s desire was fulfilled. She was always smiling—sparkling. And her clothes! Velveteen skirts, beribboned blouses, (blouses trimmed with ribbons), large brimmed hats loaded with flowers.
Seeing these pictures and rereading the words she wrote, I feel very close to my mother. When I meet her again, she won’t be a stranger.

A similar desire existed in the hearts of those moving to Puerto Francisco de Orellana. In early January 2009, Marco Villavicencio—now the branch president—and his wife, Claudia Ramirez, were considering a job opportunity that would require relocating to Puerto Francisco de Orellana from their home in Machala, on the other side of Ecuador.
“My first question,” says President Villavicencio, “was ‘Is the Church there?’ My wife and I talked it over with our family, and we prayed to know if we should move. As soon as the offer came, we learned that the Church was being established in Puerto Francisco de Orellana. We moved here in February 2009, and the branch was formed the following September.”

A true story from Puerto Rico.
Miguel opened his piano music and stared at the black notes on the page. His teacher had just given him a new song to play. It looked really complicated! This one would take a while to learn.
He placed his fingers on the keys and started looking for the right notes on the piano. Plink, plink, PLUNK. Again and again he kept hitting the wrong keys as he played.
Why couldn’t he get the notes right? This song was a lot harder than the Primary songs he loved to play. He was so frustrated! He pounded his hands down on the piano keys. Blonk!
“Miguel?” Mamá called. “Everything OK in there?”
“Yeah.” Miguel sighed. “This song is just hard.”
Mamá walked into the room. “I’m sorry you’re frustrated. Did you pray before you started practicing?”
“No.” Miguel hadn’t thought of that.
“When I’m learning something new, I like to say a prayer before I practice. Heavenly Father is here to help us. It doesn’t matter if you are playing sports, giving a talk in church, or playing the piano. We can always ask Him for help, because we can’t always do it on our own.”
Could prayer really help him learn his new song on the piano? He decided to give it a try.
The next day Miguel sat down at the piano again, ready to practice. But before he started, he remembered to pray.
“Heavenly Father,” he said, “help me to learn my new song. It’s hard to learn, but I know I can do it with Thy help.”
Then he finished by thanking Heavenly Father for his blessings. His arms relaxed, and he was ready to practice.
Slowly he started finding the notes on the keys and playing them one after another. He kept on practicing. Before he knew it, he could play the beginning of the song! He didn’t even notice how long he had been practicing.
Mamá popped her head into the room. “Wow, Miguel. It’s sounding great!”
“Thanks!” said Miguel. “I think saying a prayer before I practiced helped me be patient and learn a little bit at a time.” He flipped through the pages of the song. “It’s better than trying to learn it all at once.”
“You’ve got a good start!” Mamá said with a smile. “Before you know it, you’ll learn the whole song.”
Miguel smiled back. Then he put his hands on the keys and started to play.
“Pray, he is there; Speak, He is list’ning. You are His child; His love now surrounds you.”
“A Child’s Prayer” (Children’s Songbook, 12)
Illustrations by Tracy Nishimura Bishop

Experiencing the joy. Matt, my youngest son, and I share a birthday. He was to turn 8, and I was to turn 50. Matt wanted to be baptized by his brother on our birthday, so our home teacher took time to instruct my sons how to perform the ordinance and later attended the service. After the baptism, Matt was confirmed by the oldest in our family, a married brother.
During the program all 10 of my children, along with two spouses and two grandchildren, stood and sang “Families Can Be Together Forever.” It was a moment I will always remember. My feelings of gratitude for the gospel and the richness of the spiritual blessings that had come to me to help me, sustain me, and tutor me filled my heart. As I looked at my beautiful family and listened to the words they sang, I knew without a doubt that we were still a “forever” family.

Question three: How do we teach our children? We teach by example. Our children will learn far more by observing us walk uprightly than any other way. Blair’s parents showed him, by their example, the importance of prayer. He remembers many times as a child walking down the hall to his parents’ bedroom and seeing them kneeling at the side of their bed, holding hands as they prayed to Heavenly Father.

We teach children to walk uprightly a step at a time, over and over again. I know of a mother who has her children repeat this simple yet powerful statement as they leave home: “The gospel is true, I love you, and I am a child of God, no matter what!” The words “Return with honor” written on a sign hung above the doorway of a home are a constant reminder to all who walk through the door how they should return.

Our children respond best when taught with respect and love. In the eighth chapter of Moroni, the prophet Mormon is deeply concerned about a dissension that has arisen among the members of the Church. He has written a letter giving counsel to his son, Moroni, regarding the matter. But before he addresses this problem, Mormon expresses his devotion to his son: “My beloved son, Moroni, I rejoice exceedingly that your Lord Jesus Christ hath … called you to his ministry, and to his holy work.

“I am mindful of you always in my prayers, continually praying unto God the Father in the name of his Holy Child, Jesus, that he, through … grace, will keep you through the endurance of faith on his name to the end” (Moro. 8:2–3). First, Mormon reaffirmed his love for Moroni, and then he taught him. When our children first know they are loved, they are more likely to listen and be taught.

Our children will be more able to survive the challenges that will come to them when they know and understand that keeping God’s commandments can bring them peace and joy in their lives and enable them to walk uprightly. While traveling in the car with her mother and younger sister, five-year-old Clara sensed that her mother was deeply troubled about something. “Mommy, what’s the matter? You seem so sad.”
Not wanting to go into detail about her concerns, but feeling that she needed to acknowledge to her daughter that she was worried, Clara’s mother asked, “Clara, what would you do if you felt sad and frustrated?”
“Well,” responded Clara, and there was a long pause, “you need to take time out and think. Then you need to pray all the time and read the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. You need to bless other people. Just think about the good things people do for you and the good things in your life, not the bad.” Young Clara is beginning to understand how to walk uprightly before the Lord.