Gospel Story Finder

Another who expressed his gratitude for President Spencer W. Kimball’s area conference visit last year was Wong Kar-syew, who joined the Church four years ago.
“I was surprised, but I was also really happy.” Kar-syew first became acquainted with the Church through a friend who was investigating. At first she didn’t want to listen, but eventually “what had seemed so strange became so special.” She joined the Church and was called as a Sunday School secretary within a month. She spent her first summer in the Church working as a district missionary, but she and her companion met with little success. After that experience Kar-syew realized that she would have to keep all the commandments to be able to teach others. She knew she should begin paying her tithing. When called to do missionary work again the next summer, the work went well: “I knew I was receiving the blessings of tithing in being able to reach investigators.”
As a missionary Kar-syew found about two-thirds of her contacts were from mainland China. They were attracted to the street displays and stopped to inquire. “These people have never heard the gospel, and I had the opportunity to tell them about Jesus Christ. I feel the prophecies of the scriptures are being fulfilled—our message will go to every people, in every land, and they will hear it in their own tongue.”

Miss Fee pointed to the enormous paper tree hanging on the back wall of the fifth grade classroom. “What’s missing?” she asked.
“Leaves,” our class chanted together.
“You’re going to help it grow leaves,” she said as she held up a green paper maple leaf. “Each leaf has a place on it to write the name of a book, its author, and what it is about.”
Some of the kids started groaning, but Miss Fee kept smiling. “It’s going to be a contest,” she said.
“Whoever reads the most books this week and collects the most leaves will win first prize.”
Now she had our attention. Everyone likes contests, especially when there’s a prize.
“First prize is a gift certificate for a large pizza,” the teacher said, and the class started cheering.
“Quiet down, please,” Miss Fee instructed. She gave us the rules on how long the books had to be, and what kinds would be included.
I walked home after school with Susan. We each had checked out a couple of books to read.
“You’ll probably win,” Susan said. “No one reads books as fast as you do.”
“I love reading,” I said. “Once I get started, I can’t stop. In fact, Mom usually has to tell me to shut off the light and go to sleep at night.”
“Look!” Susan whispered to me. “Look at Robert.”
Up ahead, Robert carried a stack of six books. He didn’t have many friends. His shirts were a little too big and worn, and his pants had patches on them. He sat by himself at lunchtime and didn’t ever talk to anyone. Robert ignored all the kids, even when they teased him.
“Do you think you’re going to win?” Susan asked him, laughing.
Robert glanced up at us, then looked down again and hurried past us.
“Let’s go,” I said. I didn’t feel right provoking him, but I didn’t want to admit it.
The next night I stayed after school and headed for the library. I wanted to get a couple of books on fishing, which is the thing I love best, next to reading. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Standing in front of the fishing books was Robert, holding one about trout.
“That’s a good book,” I whispered. “I read it last week.”
Robert nodded and didn’t say anything. I think he was almost afraid of me.
“I want to get a book about making flies,” I added. “Dad said he’d help me learn how to tie one.”
Robert hesitated a second, then bent over and pulled a slim volume out from the bottom shelf. “This is the best book about that,” he said softly. “It helped me a lot.”
“Do you know how to tie flies?” I asked, surprised.
“My grandpa is teaching me. We both like fishing.”
“Me too,” I said. It was a good feeling to find someone else who liked the exact same thing. Susan didn’t like fishing.
“Getting lots of reading done?” I asked as I took the book he offered.
“I’m trying to,” Robert said. He paused for a second. “I want to win the contest so that I can take my mom out for a pizza and surprise her. It’s her birthday this Saturday.”
“That’s a neat idea,” I agreed. “Good luck.”
The next morning, I found a wadded up piece of paper in my desk. I almost tossed it out, when I saw the note:
To Mike,
My Grandpa tied this for you.
Robert
I opened up the crumpled paper, and inside was an artificial fly. I picked it up and examined how it had been expertly put together. After math class, I stopped Robert in the hallway. “Thanks,” I told him. “I can’t wait to try it out.”
Robert smiled. “My grandpa’s taking me fishing along Silver Creek Saturday morning. You’re welcome to come with us.”
Before I could say yes or no, Susan walked up. “Come on,” she said. “I want to show you the book I found about dinosaurs.”
I know I should have said something to Robert, but I didn’t want Susan to start teasing me, so I walked away. My stomach felt funny for the rest of the day whenever I thought about it.
On Friday afternoon, Miss Fee declared the contest over. She asked everyone to get out their completed leaves.
“Who has more than five?” she asked. Eleven hands went up in the air.
“How about more than ten?” Only four hands stayed up.
“More than twelve?” Just Robert and I still had our hands up.
“How many leaves do you have?” Miss Fee asked Robert.
“Fourteen,” Robert said proudly. I could see that everyone in the class was surprised.
At that moment, I decided what I wanted to do. I slipped one leaf back into my desk, and when Miss Fee asked me, I said I had thirteen. I guess I wanted Robert to win more than I wanted myself to. I could imagine him telling his mom about the pizza and how happy they’d both be.
When Miss Fee gave Robert the gift certificate, everyone started clapping. I clapped the loudest. After school, I waited by the front door for him.
“Dad said I could go fishing with you tomorrow if you still want company,” I told him.
Right then Susan came walking up. “We’re going fishing tomorrow,” I told her before I chickened out.
“Don’t you want to come over and play basketball?” she asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon, if I get my chores done after I get home,” I said. “I have to try out this new fly.” I took it out of my pocket to show her.
“Did you make that?” Susan asked.
“Robert’s grandpa made it. I’m going to ask him to show me how.”
“Think he’d show me?” she asked.
“Of course,” Robert said. Then he smiled and waved at us. “I have to get home and tell my mom about our pizza date.”
I waved and smiled too. Robert had the gift certificate, but I still felt like I had won first prize.

Some, because they lack faith or understanding of the eternal plan, become bitter and lose hope. One such was a 19th-century writer who achieved both success and wealth with his dazzling wit and writing style. His wife came from a religious family, and he wanted to have faith in God but wasn’t really sure God existed. Then he was hit by a series of crushing blows. In 1893 a national financial crisis left him deeply in debt. His oldest daughter died while he was on a speaking tour. His wife’s health failed, and she died in 1904. His youngest daughter died in 1909. His own health declined. His writing, which had formerly been so full of sparkle, now reflected his bitterness. He became progressively depressed, cynical, and disillusioned and remained so until his death in 1910. With all his brilliance, he lacked the inner strength to deal with adversity and simply resigned himself to his misfortunes.
It’s not so much what happens to us but how we deal with what happens to us. That reminds me of a passage from Alma. After a long war, “many had become hardened,” while “many were softened because of their afflictions.” The same circumstances produced opposite responses. The writer who lost so much was not able to draw from the well of faith. Each of us needs to have our own storehouse of faith to help us rise above the troubles that are part of this mortal probation.

Some time ago a friend of mine was facing the same decision you are. My friend Sarah* always had a strong testimony of the Church and its truths. Since we were young, both Sarah and I had a great desire to get married in the temple.

When she was 17 or 18, she met and started dating a young man. He had a great personality and was very easy to like. He wasn’t a member, but in the beginning it didn’t seem like that was a problem.

Eventually, she started to think about how life would be if she married him, even though it wouldn’t be in the temple. She thought: “Maybe it can work; maybe we can compromise. Maybe he will change in time. Maybe I can bring him into the gospel.”

She thought a lot about this, and she cried and she prayed. She knew deep inside that she had always wanted temple marriage, but her feelings for her boyfriend made it hard for her to decide. In the end she broke up with him. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she put her trust in the Lord.

In the spring of 2007 she married a wonderful man. They are now sealed to each other for time and eternity. She’s truly happy she decided to wait until she found someone she loved and could marry in the temple.

If you don’t know what kind of decision to make, pray about it until you do know. Put your trust in the Lord. I know from watching Sarah—and from my own life—that when we do, He blesses us.

While I was serving as mission president recently, two of our elders asked if I would meet with an investigator who was scheduled for baptism the following day. She had some questions they were unable to answer. We drove to her home, where I met a young widow in her late 20s with a child. Her husband had been killed in a tragic accident a few years earlier. Her questions were thoughtful, and she was receptive. After these were resolved, I asked if she had any other concerns. She indicated that she did and that she wanted to speak with me alone. I asked the elders to step outside and stand on the lawn where they could see us clearly through a large window. As soon as the door closed behind them, she began to weep. She recounted her years alone, filled with heartache and loneliness. During those years she had made some serious mistakes. She had known better, she said, but had lacked the strength to choose the right path until she had met our missionaries. During the weeks they taught her, she had pled with the Lord to forgive her. She sought assurance from me that through her repentance and through the ordinances of baptism and the receipt of the Holy Ghost, she could be cleansed and become worthy of membership in the Church. I taught her from the scriptures and bore testimony of the principle of repentance and of the Atonement.
The next day my wife and I attended her baptism and that of her little girl. The room was filled with friends from her ward, ready and anxious to stand by her as a new member of the Church. As we left that service, I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the magnificent principle of repentance and for the Atonement that makes it possible, for the miracle of conversion, for this great Church and its members, and for our missionaries.

Once, I fell off my bunk bed and hit my head very hard. I was scared because I couldn’t see. My daddy gave me a blessing. He said that I would be able to see very soon. When the ambulance men came, they shined a flashlight in my eyes. I looked around and I could see again! I didn’t feel afraid anymore. I am grateful for the priesthood in my home. I am glad that whenever I am scared or need help, my daddy is there to give me a blessing.

When you think of Argentina, you might picture cattle ranches and cowboys. But Hugo Lopez lives in the city. He lives in Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina—one of the largest cities in South America. Hugo is a member of the Palermo Ward, Buenos Aires Argentina Belgrano Stake, which covers a large section of downtown Buenos Aires. This means that his home, his school, and his ward meetinghouse are all located among the skyscrapers and busy traffic of this city of nearly 14,000,000 people.
Hugo, age 10, was born in Buenos Aires, but he also lived in Santiago, Chile, for two years. He is the youngest child in the family and has an older brother and sister. His sister is married and has two children. Hugo is very proud to be an uncle so young!
Hugo is in the fifth grade. He walks to his school, which is not too far from his apartment. From the street, the school looks like many of the other big buildings in the city, but hidden behind the tall double doors are classrooms that fill two stories and surround an outdoor courtyard and recreation area in the center of the building. When school is dismissed each day, hundreds of students with uniform white jackets swarm through the halls and out into the street. It is sometimes difficult to tell the teachers from the students, as they also wear the same white-jacket uniforms.
Because he wants to be a good student, Hugo works very hard at his schoolwork, and his studies keep him busy every day. He tries very hard to do the things he knows are right and to be a good example. He is the only member of the Church in his school, and he has learned it can be difficult to be the only one in a group who wants to choose the right. When his friends use bad language, for example, Hugo tries to show them a better way to talk. “It makes me feel sad when they won’t listen,” he says, “but I still try to choose the right way.”
Each week, Hugo looks forward to Wednesday and Friday afternoons. “After school on these days, I go to the Conservatorio de Música, a special music school,” Hugo says. “I am learning to play the flute, and I sing in the choir!” His eyes sparkle with excitement when he talks about music and what he is learning at the music school. He will study the flute for two years, and if he studies seven more years, he can become a teacher. Or he may specialize in a mechanics course in high school so he can earn money to fulfill his dream of going on a mission.
Actually, Hugo is working very hard right now to prepare for a mission. Bishop Sergio Lohrmann, of the Palermo Ward, says: “Hugo has a great knowledge of the gospel. He bears his testimony every month—and when he does, it strengthens the testimonies of the members of our ward as he tells of his love for Jesus Christ and for the gospel.”
When Hugo bears his testimony, he always thanks his mother and the teachers who have taught him to come to church, where he can learn. And he tells of a special prayer in his heart that his father will someday listen to the missionaries and come to church, where he can feel the love of all the ward members. Hugo feels very sad that his father and his brother are not interested in learning about the Church right now. He says: “My brother thinks that coming to church is a waste of time. But it’s not a waste of time—it is gaining eternal life!”
Hugo tries to set a good example at home, as well as at school. “I have a good relationship with my Dad. I know he has very sensitive feelings, and I try not to do anything to make him feel left out,” he says. “We sometimes go on walks together and just talk—these are our special times together.”
And, as a good missionary should, Hugo studies his scriptures. When asked about his favorite scripture, Hugo quickly turns to Joseph Smith—History 1:52–53 [JS—H 1:52–53] and begins reading aloud about the Prophet Joseph’s first experience seeing the gold plates. “I love the Joseph Smith story,” he says when he completes those verses. But one look at the pages of his scriptures shows that this is only one of his favorites. His scriptures look like a missionary’s—many important verses are marked clearly in bright colors, and he knows them well.
Each day brings opportunities for Hugo to be a missionary. Whether he is studying his scriptures, setting a good example for his friends at school, or going on long walks with his father, he tries to always do and say the things he has been taught.
So each Sunday, Hugo and his mother will walk again through the busy streets of Buenos Aires to attend their Church meetings and to learn more about the gospel. And—if it happens to be a fast Sunday—Hugo will bear his testimony!

Our mission president had been admonishing the missionaries in the Ghana Accra Mission to “stay focused.” He was famous for using this phrase. At one of our zone conferences, he suggested ways we could do this, and a key point in his list was having a favorite hymn.
He told us to select a favorite hymn, memorize it, and sing it at times we may be tempted or down. This statement echoed in my memory throughout the day.
I was homesick. Nobody in my family had written to me recently, and I felt depressed. I had been less focused. This was the moment I needed to select a hymn to uplift my spirit. I was familiar with many hymns in our green hymnbook, but which did I love the most?
That night, I took an old hymnbook and flipped through the dog-eared pages, searching for a hymn that had a comforting meaning to me. Immediately, I had an idea. Elder Sheldon F. Child of the Seventy, then Africa West Area President, had visited our group in the missionary training center and spoken about the Atonement. He concluded, “If all you young missionaries understood the Atonement of our Lord Jesus Christ, there would be no need of mission rules.”
That was the kind of hymn I needed. I was no longer confused. If I had a hymn about the Atonement, I would feel the love of my Savior, be comforted, and stay focused on what He wants me to do.
I finally chose hymn number 136, “I Know That My Redeemer Lives.”
Today I am grateful to my mission president for his wise counsel. Now I have a favorite hymn memorized, which I ponder always and remember to sing in times of depression, trials, and difficulties. “I know that my Redeemer lives. What comfort this sweet sentence gives. … He lives to bless in time of need.”

Before becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the age of 25, I had stopped attending my former church on Sundays. I had spent my teenage years visiting various churches in the towns where I grew up, where I was invited to play the guitar and sing. I accepted invitations from different churches each week, and I promised myself that when I found the “right” church—where they knew who God is and where I felt at home—I would stay. Depending on how many churches were in a town, I simply repeated the cycle after a few months.
Then one cold winter’s day, two missionaries knocked on my door. By then, I was married with two young children and living in a very small town. I seemed to be their only prospect, and the Elders came around to teach me on a daily basis. On the Friday, they invited me to attend church with them that Sunday. PANIC! In our discussions, they had mentioned the importance of the Sabbath: that members refrained from shopping and time-wasting frivolities and spent the day attending church (THREE hours?!?) and engaging in various activities that would build the family and bring them nearer to God. They had also discussed reverence and showing respect through our clothing choices—the expression ‘Sunday best’ was mentioned. Why the PANIC? I didn’t own a dress or a skirt!
There was only one dress shop in the town and I didn’t rate my chances of finding anything suitable too high. Sadly, I was right. The only option was a cream-coloured pleated skirt that my grandmother would have loved! I shuddered . . . and to add insult to injury, the price was exorbitant! But, I couldn’t walk away from the church that not only knew that Jesus Christ is the Son of the Father and a separate personage, but also showed reverence by dressing and behaving in an appropriate way. So I bought the hideous cream-coloured skirt—thinking I would at least blend in. The reality was that there were only three members in the branch and 12 missionaries—so I stood out anyway!
Decades later, I still remember the feeling that choice inspired: the opportunity to show my love and reverence for my Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, by choosing my ‘best’ clothes and going to learn more of Them. Of course it’s not actually about the clothes—Heavenly Father loves us every day, barefoot and wearing jeans. It’s about honouring Them and showing respect.

“I can’t take another day of the rowdiness and disrespect of those young people on our tour!” The American woman introduced herself as she sat down across the table from me.
“I don’t know what has happened to this younger generation. They have absolutely no regard for the beautiful or the sacred. We have some teenagers in our group who sit in the back of the bus smoking, drinking, and disrupting our whole tour with their rowdiness.”
We arose and walked through the rose garden behind the hotel, viewing the Holy City across the Kidron Valley. She continued: “Only yesterday in Bethlehem the obscenity and vulgarism of their language was a desecration of those sacred shrines.”
As she spoke, I thought of the eight young people who made up nearly a fourth of our tour group.
“What do you do with all those teenagers you have with you?” she asked. “I noticed that you have quite a number of them with your group. How do you control them?”
I thought of the way Melvin Bushman and Bonnie May Hiatt had been so concerned about Mrs. Foster as we all ascended the narrow, age-polished stone steps to the “Upper Room,” which tradition identifies as the site of the Last Supper. And wasn’t it Carolyn Bushman and her cousin Virnell Bushman who had made sure that Mrs. Turley wouldn’t miss the view from the minaret? Diane Hess was the very essence of sunshine and cheerfulness, always a bright spot in our group. And Shelley Crane, quiet and somewhat shy, was always concerned for others before herself.
Then there were Jerome and John Horowitz. Jerome was a typical 17-year-old and as typically unpredictable. I was a little annoyed when he appeared so zealous to board the plane that day when we didn’t have seat assignments, but a few moments later I realized that he was trying to reserve seats for some of the older members of our group.
“What do you do about them when you are visiting these sacred sites?” she asked.
“We take them with us, or rather they take us, and we share in their enthusiasm. You see, we’re Mormons, and—”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard about your church and the marvelous programs you have for young people,” she interrupted. “You have some sort of youth activity program, don’t you?”
I explained that the quality of our young people is the result of more than just activities and programs; the gospel is a whole way of life. It is the influence of the gospel of Jesus Christ and his priesthood in the lives of Mormon young people that makes the difference. Because of their own feelings for their Savior, their own spiritual strength and testimonies, and in many cases, their own sacrifices, this journey to the Holy Land meant as much to the young people of our tour group as it did to the adults.
My conversation with this lady came back many times during the subsequent events of our tour, events that vindicated my defense of LDS youth.

A motorcycle accident left Wilson paralyzed. A year later his wife passed away. As a widower with two little girls, Wilson did not know what to do. He didn’t know if there was a purpose in life. Wilson could have become bitter. Instead, he began searching for truth.
Cody Bell, photographer
After my motorcycle accident and the loss of my wife, I was left with two little girls to raise. I really didn’t know how I was going to raise my daughters in a wheelchair. This accident completely changed my life.
I had many questions. Why do bad things happen? I was going along trying to do the right things, and my wife was taken from me and I was left in a wheelchair. Then doctors had to operate on my daughter’s head to remove a tumor. I began to think that there was no purpose in life.
I realized that I needed to find the truth. I investigated various religions and found The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I felt that it was the truth.
I learned that there is a life after this one, and when we die, it is possible to be with the ones we love. This brought me joy because of the 10 beautiful years that I had had with my wife.
Finding the gospel changed my life in every sense. I began to have peace of mind and peace of conscience. Happiness entered my family as we went to church every Sunday. We came home strengthened. We were baptized and eventually sealed for all eternity in the temple in Argentina.
Now I keep moving forward in the Church. I’ve served as a counselor in the bishopric, and I try to learn from all of my experiences, from all of life’s tests. This gives me strength. As I’ve been sitting in a wheelchair for more than 20 years, I’ve learned that happiness comes from inside. One learns more every day. For that I feel grateful.
I now know that there is a purpose for being on earth. We are here as part of Heavenly Father’s eternal plan. We have a Savior who overcame death and was resurrected. Knowing this gives me strength. Now, I strive to persevere and continue forward. I have a purpose and I know that as I try to live a worthy life, I can have an eternal family.
Despite the challenges Wilson and his daughter Sofia face, the gospel brings them peace, happiness, and strength. Sofia has lived with her father since her surgery. Wilson finds joy serving in the Church.
Cooking as he maneuvers a wheelchair around the kitchen is one of many skills Wilson has developed since an accident left him paraplegic.
Wilson finds hope and strength from the Savior as he studies the scriptures.
Missionaries join the Di Paula family for dinner. Wilson’s love of the gospel is a strength in his family and to the Church.
After a serious accident and the death of his wife, Wilson questioned the purpose of life. He found purpose when found the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Wilson and Sofia find hope in the gospel. Spending more than 20 years in a wheelchair hasn’t stopped Wilson from serving in meaningful ways.
Wilson’s smile gives evidence of the spiritual abundance in his life. “Happiness comes from inside,” Wilson says. “One learns more every day.”
As they eat together, the Di Paula family shares more than food with the missionaries, they also share their love and gratitude for the gospel.

Happily, my wise parents put great heroes in my path as a boy. My dad took me to Yankee Stadium only once to observe my baseball hero play, but every Sunday he let me observe a priesthood man who became a hero. That hero shaped my life. My father was the branch president of the little branch which met in our home. By the way, if you came down to the first floor on Sunday morning, you were in church. Our branch never had more than 30 people in attendance.
There was a young man who drove his mother to our house for meetings, but he never came into the house. He was not a member. It was my father who succeeded by going out to him where he parked the car and inviting him into our home. He was baptized and became my first and only Aaronic Priesthood leader. He became my priesthood hero. I still remember the wooden statue he gave me as a reward after we had completed a project to cut firewood for a widow. I have tried to be like him whenever I give justified praise to a servant of God.

In 1849, President Brigham Young called a small number of men to travel to various parts of the world to preach the gospel. A former Swedish sailor, John Forsgren, who had joined the Church in Massachusetts, USA, and traveled to the Salt Lake Valley, asked President Young to be sent to Sweden as a missionary. He was called to serve and arrived in Sweden in June 1850.
Elder Forsgren first visited his younger siblings in Gävle. His brother Peter was ill, and doctors said he was beyond help. Elder Forsgren explained the purpose of his mission to his siblings, then anointed and blessed Peter, who was restored to full health. On July 19, 1850, Elder Forsgren baptized his brother, who became the first convert in Sweden.
In 1850 Peter Forsgren, above, was baptized by his brother John.
Photograph courtesy of Susan Easton Black

All during the years of my childhood and youth, even until the time I was ordained an elder and came home from a mission, I had only one bishop. He was a remarkable man. He served for 25 years. We knew him, and he knew us. We always addressed him as “Bishop Duncan,” and he always called us by our first names. We had great respect for him—an almost awesome respect. But we had no fear of him. We knew that he was our friend. His was a very large ward, and how very well he served his people.
I spoke at his funeral. Next to my own father, he probably had the greatest influence on my young life. How grateful I am for him.

Whilst former England Missionary Training Centre president, Crag Ostler, was serving in his call, he built up a close relationship with Ralph Assherton, son of Lord and Lady Clitheroe of Downham. Ralph has the responsibility for the day-to-day running of the village and the family estate, and so he takes a real interest in village life and those who visit. All missionaries in the missionary training centre are given a Church history tour of significant sites in the northwest of England, including Downham. Over the years, these visits from the missionaries to Downham have led to the development of a relationship and friendship.
Ralph Assherton had always been very supportive and accommodating regarding these regular visits from the missionaries and would often spend time speaking with President Ostler. They realised they had much in common.
Sadly for President and Sister Ostler, when their assignment at the MTC was completed they did not have an opportunity to meet in person to say goodbye to Ralph.
However they had not forgotten Ralph’s friendship and kindness towards them and the missionaries. Once home, Brother Ostler was determined to express his gratitude to Ralph for the last three years.
Through research, Brother Ostler learnt that one of Ralph’s interests was bell ringing. If you go down to Downham on a Tuesday evening you will hear the bells of St Leonard’s church being rung by Ralph!
Brother Ostler organised the presentation of a handheld bell and a personal letter to Ralph, on his behalf- and on the many others who had benefited from Ralph’s kindness.
On 29 June, President Don H. Staheli, president of the Missionary Training Centre, Sister Staheli, and a number of missionaries gathered in St Leonard’s church along with Ralph Assherton and others to make the presentation. As part of the presentation, musical items were provided by the missionaries, including a beautiful violin solo.
Ralph then took some time speaking to the missionaries, taking questions, and even gave a demonstration with his new handbell.
President Staheli and others expressed their thanks to Ralph and his family for the kindness and support they have shown and continue to extend towards the Church.

Actually, the musical tradition started with Sally’s mother. As a little girl her mother lived in a rural area in Idaho, and she sold milk to earn money for piano lessons. She also managed to earn enough money to buy her first piano. Knowing that her mother had made sacrifices in her life to play the piano, Sally grew to love music as well, and she has passed this love of music on to her own children.
This is why Lindsey can claim a standing ovation not only from a New York audience in Carnegie Hall but also from the Young Women and Young Men in her ward after she performed for an etiquette night activity. To the Brintons, it doesn’t matter how big or small the venue is as long as they can share their talents with others—another tradition passed down from Sally’s mother, who was ward organist for 30 years and never turned down an invitation to perform, including for the ward Christmas party.

It was at the age of 19 when Sister Cordón met a young Valeri Cordon that she had three choices placed before her: move to USA with her mother, serve a mission, or marry Valeri. She chose to marry and the Cordón family was born. While raising their children, she continued her educational endeavors, interior design, and human resources. The BYU Pathway program opened other doors for learning, so currently Sister Cordon is focused on business studies and improving her English language skills.

During my professional career, I helped the heirs of a noble couple settle their estate. The estate was not large, but it was the fruit of many years of hard work and sacrifice. Their children were all decent, God-fearing people who had been taught to live the saving principles of the Savior. But when it came to dividing up the property, a dispute developed about who should get what. Even though there was nothing of great value to fight about, feelings of selfishness and greed caused a rift among some of the family members that never healed and continued into the next generation. How tragic that the legacy offered by these wonderful parents turned out to be so destructive of family unity and love among their children. I learned from this that selfishness and greed bring bitterness and contention; on the other hand sacrifice and giving bring peace and contentment.

Not many young people get the chance to help build the temple in their area, so the youth from the Del Mar Stake jumped at the chance to clear the land around the San Diego Temple as part of their youth conference.
More than 300 young people attended the conference, rightly titled “Work and the Word.” There were spiritual presentations, a dance, a testimony meeting, and, of course, weeding, shoveling, and hauling debris from the new temple grounds.
“It felt good to work on the temple I will someday be going through,” said Christina Lyon, one of the Laurels involved.

Service can come in many forms: baking cookies, raking leaves, babysitting. But for a group of young men in Mesa, Arizona, service has come in a different form: pushing wheelchairs.
Every Sunday, the priests quorum in the Glenview Ward, Mesa Arizona Kimball Stake, give elderly sisters the chance to partake of the sacrament by pushing their wheelchairs from an assisted living home to their ward meetinghouse. Here’s what the young men have to say about the service:
“The best part about taking the sisters to church every week is seeing the looks of gratitude in their eyes. They’re so happy. You can tell that they really enjoy coming to church and partaking of the sacrament.”
—Brad Bishop
“There are some who can’t even talk, yet their gratitude is clearly expressed through their beaming faces. One great thing about the sisters is that they have a great sense of humor. They always have good jokes.”
—Tyson Anderson
“When I can help the sisters go to church by pushing their wheelchairs, I feel really good. When we arrive at the meetinghouse, ward members always talk with the sisters. We take them to church, but the members go the extra mile to visit with them.”
—Nathan Carroll
“When our quorum first got the assignment to push wheelchairs, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But now I love to serve the sisters. I have fun talking to them about life.”
—Leighton Carroll
“When I serve the sisters, I feel amazed by their dedication. It takes a lot of effort for them to get up early and get ready, but they always come. They always have smiles on their faces.”
—Austin McNeil