Gospel Story Finder

Cesar Aedo is a mime, rapidly becoming well-known in Europe. A former pupil of French master Marcel Marceau, he has performed publicly and on television in Germany, France, and Switzerland, as well as in several countries of South and Central America. In May of 1984, he made his American debut. Now he has signed a contract with one of western Europe’s top circuses, Circus KNIE.
On and offstage, he seems energetic, spontaneous, intense. It becomes apparent in hearing him talk of his background that the intensity he puts into performing is typical of the commitment he has put into all the other things he considers worthwhile in life.
Brother Aedo is a returned missionary, a native of Lima, Peru. It was a struggle for his father, a tailor, to provide basic necessities for his large family. But young Cesar was very eager to obtain an education, and to obey the prophet’s counsel that he should go on a mission. He knew it would require his own effort to enjoy these blessings. So—as the story was told in a 1982 Primary manual—he worked washing and polishing cars near his school to pay for his own schooling and, afterward, for the mission. The mission meant so much to him that he would not allow a bout with appendicitis to keep him down for long. Five days after surgery, he was back teaching and tracting. “I have work to do. I am a missionary,” he explained matter-of-factly.
After his mission, he studied sociology at Villareal University in Lima. But his first love was the performing arts, so he studied those too. In fact, his study of performing had begun much earlier, at age six. He faithfully attended religious instruction classes in the church to which he then belonged because afterward there were old movies for the youngsters, and he was enthralled by the silent film comedy of Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Harold Lloyd. Cesar was nine when missionaries brought the gospel to his family. By eleven, he was performing in his LDS branch’s talent shows.
After studying at Villareal University, Brother Aedo wanted to go to Europe for more advanced schooling in political science. He worked his way through several South and Central American countries performing as a mime until he had saved enough money to fly to Europe. “I went to Europe on my talent, nothing more,” he recalls.
A series of events he considers providential prevented him from enrolling immediately. He spent several weeks in late 1979 and early 1980 visiting with his sister in Geneva, Switzerland—long enough to determine that instead of political science he wanted to study mime with the man who is widely recognized as the master. Brother Aedo knew that through his faith it would happen, if he persevered. So he returned to Paris and was persistent enough that he was finally able to see Marcel Marceau and become one of his pupils.
He spent three years studying with Monsieur Marceau—not only the art of mime, but also dramatic art, classical and modern dance, acrobatics, and fencing. He was one of the few pupils able to earn his tuition and expenses through weekend performances and summer touring. Now he is studying with the man who taught the master, Monsieur Marceau’s eighty-six-year-old mentor, Etienne Decroux. He is also continuing his study of classical dance.

Christina was such a girl. When her Primary teacher’s husband died, Christina showed great concern. As soon as she heard the sad news, she went to her teacher and told her not to worry, that she would check in on her every day to make sure that she was all right. And she did. She often took fresh vegetables from the garden to cheer her teacher up, to let her teacher know that she cared. Christina truly comforted one who needed comfort.

Despite this experience, I fought an internal battle that was continually fueled by commonly asked questions about when I would submit mission papers and what my plans were. The mission decision was constantly on my mind. After graduating in 2021, I knew I had to make a choice, so I prayed, already sensing what the Lord wanted. I wanted a sign to give me a special pardon that I didn’t have to go. I did not expect what happened next.
The next day as usual, I picked up the others on my crew and headed to a jobsite, when a car came flying through a stop sign and crashed into us. Our truck was totaled and the car that hit us flew about 30 yards down the road. We had just pulled out of a gas station before the crash and none of us had put our seat belts yet. Miraculously, none of us were badly injured. Later, talking with the police officers, they told me that my coworker and I sitting in the front seat could easily have been thrown through the windshield without our seat belts on. Things started to settle in for me later that night, when I heard a familiar voice in my head saying “Travis, you could be dead right now. But you’re not.”
This changed my life. I realized I was protected because the Lord had something in store for me. Finally, I knew I truly was called to serve. Months later, I received my mission assignment: the Dominican Republic Santo Domingo West Mission.

But our eagerness to declare this message is not merely the result of a sense of spiritual duty. Rather, our desire to share the restored gospel of Jesus Christ with you is a reflection of how important these truths are to us. I believe I can best describe why we are so forthright in seeking to explain our beliefs to you through an experience my wife and I had many years ago with two of our sons.
One evening Susan and I stood near a window in our home and watched two of our little boys playing outside. During the course of their adventures, the younger of the two boys was injured slightly in a small accident. We quickly recognized that he was not seriously hurt, and we decided not to provide immediate assistance. We wanted to observe and see if any of our family discussions about brotherly kindness had sunk in. What happened next was both interesting and instructive.
The older brother consoled and carefully helped the younger brother back into the house. Susan and I had positioned ourselves near the kitchen so we could see what next took place, and we were prepared to intervene immediately if additional bodily harm seemed likely or a serious accident was imminent.
The older brother dragged a chair to the kitchen sink. He climbed up on the chair, assisted his brother onto the chair, turned on the water, and proceeded to pour a large quantity of dishwashing soap onto the scratched arm of his little brother. He did his best to gently wash away the dirt. The reaction of the little brother to this procedure can only be described accurately using language from the holy scriptures: “And they shall have cause to howl, and weep, and wail, and gnash their teeth” (Mosiah 16:2). And did that little boy howl!
After the scrubbing was finished, the arm was carefully dried with a towel. Eventually the screaming stopped. The older brother next climbed up onto the kitchen counter, opened a cabinet, and found a new tube of medicated ointment. Though the scratches on his little brother were not large or extensive, the older brother applied almost all of the ointment in the tube to the entire injured arm. The screaming did not resume, as the little brother clearly liked the soothing effect of the ointment much more than he appreciated the cleansing effect of the dishwashing soap.
The older brother returned again to the cabinet in which he had found the ointment and located a new box of sterile bandages. He then unwrapped and put bandages all up and down his brother’s arm—from the wrist to the elbow. With the emergency resolved, and with soap bubbles, ointment, and wrappers all over the kitchen, the two little boys hopped down from the chair with bright smiles and happy faces.
What happened next is most important. The injured brother gathered up the remaining bandages and the almost empty tube of ointment, and he went back outside. He quickly sought out his friends and began to put ointment and bandages on their arms. Susan and I both were struck by the sincerity, enthusiasm, and rapidity of his response.
Why did that little boy do what he did? Please note that he immediately and intuitively wanted to give to his friends the very thing that had helped him when he was hurt. That little boy did not have to be urged, challenged, prompted, or goaded to act. His desire to share was the natural consequence of a most helpful and beneficial personal experience.

Leroy Alip listened intently as he was set apart to serve on a stake high council on the Big Island of Hawaii. In the blessing Brother Alip was told he would be on the island when a temple was built there and that he would serve in that temple. This was in 1984, and the only temple in Hawaii was on the island of Oahu, many miles away by boat or plane.
In 1997 President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) announced a new direction for temple construction. Building smaller temples would enable more temples to be built. The faithfulness of the Saints on the Big Island was rewarded six months later when President Hinckley announced a temple for Kona. After the temple was dedicated in 2000, Brother Alip was called as second counselor in the temple presidency. Today, fully retired from his career but fully engaged in the work of the Lord, he supervises the workers who keep the grounds of the Kona Hawaii Temple beautiful.

Elder Taylor received a call to the Eastern States Mission. But during the summer before he was to leave, he and a brother had drunk some contaminated water while on a trip to southern Utah. As a result, Henry contracted typhoid fever and was not able to leave until later. He recalls that “when I first reached my mission, our room wasn’t well heated. We had our study class at 6:00 A.M., and I would don my bathrobe and sit there with my teeth chattering. I found that putting a hot toaster under my chair helped a little.”
At that time missionaries often traveled without purse or scrip. Elder Taylor said that during his mission “the Lord was good to us, and the people were kind and provided us with food and lodging. My mission experiences were humbling and inspirational.
“I salute you noble young people. You will be the leaders in your communities and the Church in the very near future. Live clean and useful lives. Happiness comes from keeping the Lord’s commandments. I leave my blessing with you, and pray that our Heavenly Father will guide, guard, and protect you.”

I remember when, as a young deacon, I would cover a portion of the ward on fast Sunday morning, giving the small envelope to each family, waiting while a contribution was placed in it, and then returning it to the bishop. On one such occasion, an elderly member, Brother Wright, welcomed me at the door and, with aged hands, fumbled at the tie of the envelope and placed within it a quarter. His eyes fairly twinkled as he made his contribution. He told me of a time years before when the Relief Society president, Sister Balmforth, with food collected from those who had given, carried to his home in a small red wagon food for his cupboard and provided gratitude for his soul. He described her as “an angel sent from heaven.” I have not forgotten Eddie Wright.

The members’ ability to receive, in their native tongue, that reassurance from modern-day prophets was thanks in large measure to a team of translators who suffered their own losses during the disaster.
Assigned to provide live interpretation from the islands for the first time rather than from Salt Lake City, the translation team had a choice to make after the disaster struck. The team could turn interpretation over to Salt Lake City on short notice so that they could tend to the needs of friends and family affected by the quake, or they could fulfill their assignment.
Aliitasi Talataina, the translation supervisor and interpretation coordinator, said she felt an impression that there were many who could tend to the physical needs of the people or bury the dead but that “this is what the Lord would have us do [for] the living and generations to come.”
Because a disaster management team took over the service center where the interpretation equipment had been set up, the team had to find a facility that had the digital telephone lines and other technical requirements necessary to provide remote, simultaneous translation.
Sister Talataina said the team’s faith was like Nephi’s in that they said, “Even if we [had] to do this under a tree, we [would] go and do” (see 1 Nephi 3:7).
With the Lord’s help they found a location, and the necessary equipment was transferred, set up, and tested in the few days prior to conference.
“We felt the hand of the Lord in accomplishing what we were commanded,” Sister Talataina said.
Because of the team’s efforts, when conference began, members who took time from the massive cleanup effort to participate in the proceedings were able to hear and understand the Lord’s message for them.

Like some of you, I know what it is to face disappointment and youthful humiliation. As a boy, I played team softball in elementary and junior high school. Two captains were chosen, and then they, in turn, selected the players they desired on their respective teams. Of course, the best players were chosen first, then second, and third. To be selected fourth or fifth was not too bad, but to be chosen last and relegated to a remote position in the outfield was downright awful. I know; I was there.
How I hoped the ball would never be hit in my direction, for surely I would drop it, runners would score, and teammates would laugh.
As though it were just yesterday, I remember the very moment when all that changed in my life. The game started out as I have described: I was chosen last. I made my sorrowful way to the deep pocket of right field and watched as the other team filled the bases with runners. Two batters then went down on strikes. Suddenly, the next batter hit a mighty drive. I even heard him say, “This will be a home run.” That was humiliating, since the ball was coming in my direction. Was it beyond my reach? I raced for the spot where I thought the ball would drop, uttered a prayer while running, and stretched forth my cupped hands. I surprised myself. I caught the ball! My team won the game.
This one experience bolstered my confidence, inspired my desire to practice, and led me from that last-to-be-chosen place to become a real contributor to the team.
We can experience that burst of confidence. We can feel that pride of performance. A three-word formula will help us: Never give up.

For three and one-half years after the First Vision, Joseph Smith continued the routine of life as a New York farm worker. At times, he later explained, he associated with jovial company and allowed his youthful exuberance to express itself with levity. Though not guilty of any act except the mischievousness which his native cheery temperament led him into, he began to feel that he had not acted consistent with the solemn counsel received in the vision.

With that concern uppermost in his mind, Joseph Smith, now seventeen, retired to his room, on September 21, 1823, and began to pray. Suddenly the room filled with light and he was visited by a heavenly messenger. The messenger who proclaimed himself to be an angel of God introduced himself as Moroni, the last record keeper of the Nephites, a people who had lived on the American continent fourteen hundred years earlier. Moroni’s message stirred Joseph to a realization of his mission, for he was told that in a nearby hill were buried sacred plates containing a record of the ancient inhabitants of the Americas and of the Savior’s teachings among them. Moroni repeated the message in two additional visits that night and again the following morning. Joseph was instructed to visit the Hill Cumorah each year to receive instructions to prepare him for his mission. Finally, on September 22, 1827, he was entrusted with the plates.

Four seniors from the North Little Rock Ward, Little Rock Arkansas Stake, had a very successful year. They were active in school, and all completed and received their Young Womanhood Recognition.

Lori Wiggins, Shelly Anderson, Laura Johnson, and Jacque Adcock prepared for their awards through class projects such as learning to can, decorating cakes, making Mother’s Day plaques, fellowshipping inactive members, and other service projects. They also achieved several individual goals as well as the class goals.

Lori was an officer of the school drill team and member of the National Honor Society. Laura was stake seminary secretary and vice-president of her senior class in school. Jacque was president of the ward seminary and president of her senior class. She was also co-captain of the cheerleading squad. Shelly was active in a clown troupe and in the costuming crew during school plays. She also participated in community theater.

To conclude the year, the girls and their adviser made a quilt, which was presented by the class to the ward.

As a teenager, Richard was determined to earn his own money for college, and he showed a remarkable spirit of adventure in going about it. One summer he worked on an oyster boat off the east coast. Another summer he cut down trees in Utah for the forest service; he also repaired railroad cars.

During a later summer, his application to work for a Utah park service hotel was denied because all the jobs were taken. He tucked away the rejection letter without telling anyone about it and left for Utah. By the time he had made the trip across the United States, he had only three cents left in his pocket.
“Didn’t you receive our letter?” asked the man when he showed up.
“Yes,” Richard replied, “but I would like to work anyway. Is there a position as desk clerk?” The man laughed incredulously. Lowering his expectations, Richard asked, “How about bellboy?” No openings. “All right,” Richard said, “I’ll wash dishes!”
“Forget it,” the man said. “We don’t have any openings.”
Feeling the three pennies in his pocket, Richard was desperate. “I’ll wash dishes for two weeks,” he said, “and if you don’t like my work, you don’t have to pay me.” At least, he thought, that way he’d have a place to stay and have something to eat. The man finally agreed.
Richard washed dishes—but he also went into the kitchen to see if he could help. By the end of summer, he was the number two cook.
These experiences did more than add to his college savings account; they also helped him grow spiritually. During spare minutes he read and pondered the Book of Mormon and experienced a powerful spiritual awakening.

Fleur remembers the first time she played the organ in sacrament meeting. She had played the piano in Primary, but when the ward organist was called to be the bishop, he encouraged her to play the organ. He asked her to play the closing hymn one sacrament meeting. Fleur was nervous.

When it was time for the hymn, she went to the organ, and the bishop sat beside her to work the pedals for her. From that day on, Fleur served as the ward organist, from age 10 to 14.

She says, “It was scary sitting up on the stand with people staring at me.” Her willingness to serve, however, brought a blessing: “After a while I got better at sight-reading the hymns. I could just go in and play them.”

Years ago I was a member of a stake high council. There was presented to the high council a man to be a bishop of a ward. He had been approved by the Brethren. Then they presented the men he had nominated as his counselors. One of the men was the husband of a woman whom I knew to be a gossip. She had injured many people with her gossip. I thought, “A man like that can’t serve. His wife is too much of a gossip.” When the vote was taken, two of us voted against it. But the stake president said this: “Brethren, there is a greater principle here. He should have the right to nominate his counselors. I feel to approve it.” And he asked for another vote, and we all voted in favor. But I didn’t feel very good about it.
When the conference came, Elder Harold B. Lee was the visiting General Authority. When it came time to set apart and ordain the bishop, Elder Lee took care of that, and he ordained and set apart the first counselor. When the other counselor came forward to be set apart, Brother Strong, the other man who had voted against him, said to me, “Now we will see whether the Church is run by revelation or not.” Elder Lee put his hands on this man’s head and began the setting apart. Then he hesitated and said something like this: “The blessings pronounced upon these other brethren apply to you as well. But for you there is a special blessing. …”
It was a long blessing on keeping counsel, about not talking with his wife about problems in the ward—a marvelous blessing. I was amazed. At the next meeting, one of the brethren asked the stake president, “Did you tell Elder Lee about Brother So-and-so and the problem that had been raised?” He said, “No, I meant to, but we didn’t have time.”
I had the privilege of asking Brother Lee, “Did you know about that problem with the man?”
“No,” he said, “I didn’t, but l felt something when I went to bless him.”
I learned a great lesson. This church is run by revelation. It comes to those who have the responsibility to preside. I am not sure you could get me to vote against a proposition presented by my presiding authority. I’d be very careful. He might just be a common old stick, but it would be the position that counts.

The storm came up quickly. It was blinding white. I was driving from one state to another, and I could hardly see. My white-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel as I searched for any sort of landmark. I felt relieved when I made out two taillights from what must have been a semi-truck. Their red beam gave me something to follow.
I inched along behind the truck for almost an hour. I thought the cars passing me must be crazy for going so fast in this weather. I was certain that I would see the wreckage of one of them farther up the road.
Turns out the people in those cars had a far better perspective than I did. As I started to climb a mountain pass, my little car couldn’t keep up with the taillights. When the truck pulled ahead of me, I realized the “blizzard” was actually powder coming off its very snowy top. It was only snowing lightly, and I could actually see the road quite clearly.
Had I seen the whole picture from the beginning, I would have realized that the truck in front of me that I’d thought was a beacon was, in fact, the reason for the storm. Sometimes we get so caught up in our own personal blizzards that we miss the big picture. The Lord knows our big picture, even when we do not. If we trust in Him, we can avoid the personal blizzards that can be so harmful to us, and we can make it through the storm safely.
Kari B., Virginia, USA

Last week I needed to make a choice about obeying Jesus. Some of my friends were making a club. They asked me if I wanted to be in the club. At first I wanted to, but then they told me that I had to say a bad word to join the club. I told them I didn’t say those words. One of my friends said I was a scaredy-cat, but I still didn’t say it. I decided to go play with my other friends. It felt good to obey my Savior and choose the right. I love Jesus, and I want to be like Him.

And his dedication is exemplary. One Sunday, he was in a lively conversation with other young men.
“We’ve been asked to clean up the meetinghouse grounds this Saturday.”
“But we have a better activity than that,” another replied.
“But let’s do what we’ve been told to do first,” Alvin said.
Well, Saturday came, and while the other young men were yet to arrive, Alvin was already in his work clothes. And he brought his nonmember cousin, too.
Seeing all this, you can’t help but make the connection between him and his favorite scripture: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded” (1 Ne. 3:7).

Photographs by Mark Davis
Ever dream about your future career? You know, what you’ll do when you head out on your own, become an adult, and realize it’s time to earn your own living? And what do you want to do when you get there? Fly planes? Create video games? Play professional football? How about acting in movies? How about making your own movies?
That’s exactly what Kamila T. of New York, USA, 16, hopes to do. That’s why she’s enrolled in a school of art and design. Kamila doesn’t just like watching movies; she loves making them too. But she knows that if she wants to make a living at it, she’s going to have to learn a few things and get to work right now. No matter how young you are, you can start thinking about your future. As it says in For the Strength of Youth, “Set high goals for yourself, and be willing to work hard to achieve them” ([2011], 40).
Kamila’s love for making movies started when she was 12. “My friends and I used iMovie on a tablet to make funny movies,” she said. “I became interested in it then. I started making films for my school and really enjoyed it.”
Pretty soon Kamila decided she wanted to pursue film in high school. But most high schools don’t have a strong film program, so she started looking around.
She explained, “When I originally heard about the school of art and design, I didn’t want to go. But my dad wanted me to. He has a lot of friends who are in film, and he thought it would be a good decision for my career. He said it was the best school for film. So I visited the school to check it out and really liked it.”
Liking the school was one thing, but getting accepted was another thing altogether.
“I had to audition in front of the teacher,” Kamila said. “It was really hectic, because I had to create two storyboards [outlines of her film ideas] to present. I wasn’t prepared on the first day like everyone else, so I had to go on the second day. On the way there we got a little lost, and I was late. My mom told me not to worry and to call my dad. I did, and he said a prayer with me over the phone. It was nice.”
Kamila calmed down and presented her storyboards. The result? She was accepted into the program, and she just started her third year there.
For Kamila, studying film has been amazing. Recently her class created a public service announcement for a competition. Experiences like that have helped her see what she can achieve.
But going to her school also comes with sacrifice. It’s an hour and a half commute each way. Plus, “All the other kids in my area go to a normal high school with football fields and other sports,” she said. “My school is different because everyone’s interested in the arts. But going there has also prepared me for things in life. I know how to take the train and how to get around on my own.”
At the same time, Kamila knows that making a living as a filmographer—especially for one holding LDS standards—can present challenges. So she’s kept her mind open to other interesting options.
“In English class we learned about psychology, and I really liked it,” she said. “My mom is going back to school, getting a minor in psychology and a major in teaching. So she shares with me what’s she’s learning. I still want to follow film, but psychology is my backup. Or finding a way to combine film and psychology would be great.”
Kamila is developing her gifts and talents for a career and independence—and a future family. “I hope to get married in the temple and be a mom one day,” she said. “I believe that by developing my talents like psychology and film, I would be able to have more open communication with my family.”
As prophets have counseled: “Heavenly Father has given you gifts and talents and knows what you are capable of achieving. Seek His help and guidance as you work to achieve your goals” (For the Strength of Youth, 40).
For other youth trying to figure out their goals and future plans for education, jobs, and family, Kamila had this advice: “Follow your dreams. Do what most interests you. It’s not a status thing or an obsession—it’s doing something you’ve always wanted to do, the thing you really want to be in the back of your mind. You can do it!”

Teaching opportunities often come at unexpected times or in unusual circumstances. A few years ago we gave our two sons 10-speed bicycles for Christmas. Then, trying to be a good father, I took one of our old bicycles to ride along with the boys as they learned to operate their new 10-speeds. We were doing fine until my second son, a 10-year-old, looked down at the sprockets as he tried to change gears. He ran directly into the back of a parked car. Because I was a bit ahead of him, I only heard the crash. I immediately went back to help.
My heart ached as I looked at him with his mouth bleeding and a front tooth broken off; his face had hit the trunk of the car. In addition, he appeared for a moment to have broken his leg, something that had already happened to him six years earlier. As I gathered him in my arms, he looked up into my face and said, “Dad, how come I always have to learn things the hard way?” Now there was a teaching moment!

The sky is still black when 15-year-old Jossie Comandao and her father, Domingo L. Comandao, awaken. They get up every school day at about 4 A.M. “When the alarm rings,” Brother Comandao explains. “I have to use an alarm clock.”
The Comandaos live in Tatalon, one of several relocation areas in Manila, capital of the Philippines. “We don’t have any running water,” Brother Comandao explains. “So after breakfast I must go fetch water so Jossie can take a bath.” Jossie wants to be bright and fresh for her seminary class. As soon as she’s ready, she and her father begin the one-and-a-half mile walk to the stake center.
Manila is a modern metropolis, a city that imitates New York with its multi-windowed offices, superhighways, high-rise apartment complexes, and its suburbs full of glistening homes. But at the same time, it is a city where housing is at a premium, and many residents live in run-down relocation areas while they wait for better dwellings to become available.
Manila is also a city where hundreds of young Latter-day Saints like Jossie get up early each morning to come to seminary. The students in Jossie’s class come from all kinds of neighborhoods and from all kinds of homes. Some have been raised all their lives as members of the Church. Many others are recent converts, with all or part of their families sharing in the blessings of the Restoration. They meet in a modern, white-brick chapel at 52 Rosario Drive in Quezon City, northeast of the downtown district.
Jossie’s regular school classes don’t begin until 7 A.M., and her father doesn’t have to be to work until 8 o’clock. “So we have plenty of time to walk,” Jossie says. “And I enjoy talking to my father.” They both carry their scriptures with them, and gospel discussions are common.
Friends smile and wave as the Comandaos arrive at the church. While Jossie visits with her friends, her father rests for a moment before turning to walk back home.
“I am very grateful for the seminary program,” he says. “It has been most worthwhile for my daughter. Seminary has helped her to be more industrious and to learn to prepare assignments on time. It has also helped her to make many good, strong friends. It has also helped us as a family.”
He pauses. “My wife is not yet a member, but perhaps as she sees Jossie grow in the knowledge of the gospel, she will realize how important the Church is to all of us.”
Inside the classroom, Jossie and her fellow students are eager to share their own appreciation for early-morning seminary.
“I enjoy seminary because I feel myself and the members of this church being blessed through it,” Jossie says. “I know that if we prepare ourselves and become worthy people, we will receive great blessings at the Second Coming of Christ.”
“I get up early too,” Raoul M. Fajardo, 15, says, smiling. “Why? Because I enjoy seminary! I learn more about Church history, and I know that this church is true. Seminary helps me prepare for the day, helps me start on a spiritual note. I go on to school remembering all about my Church history.”
“The seminary program has made a big difference in my life,” says Christine Orquiola, 15. “I know more about the Church than I did before. I have a deeper understanding of Joseph Smith now. It’s hard to find time to study for seminary, but you have to find time, because your time is not yours. It’s given to you by God. So you have to find time for him, not just for yourself.”
“I’m a priest,” says Jeremiah Pineda, 16. “And seminary is one of the best ways for me to be getting ready for a mission. It strengthens my testimony and helps me prepare spiritually and emotionally. It helps me know how to answer my friends’ questions at school. Last week I told some of them about the plan of salvation. Now one of my friends wants to come to church with me.”
The discussion stops so that Irma Mae Santillan, the seminary instructor, can lead the students in a scripture chase and present a lesson about the city of Nauvoo. “The most enjoyable part of teaching for me is testimony-bearing time,” she says. “I love to hear them share their testimonies.”
The lesson ends all too soon. Following a closing prayer, Jossie and the other students walk out to the parking lot and linger for a moment, talking and savoring seminary’s happy spirit. The gospel light is rising, like the sun that is now greeting the radiant morning. A moment later, Jossie is running to catch a bus that will take her to school. It’s a direct route—she doesn’t even have to transfer.
A day or two later in another part of town, storm clouds brew like steam, then darken to a smoky gray. Soon the rain pelts another group of teenage Latter-day Saints who are visiting the American Cemetery at Fort Bonifacio. Here tile murals depict invasions, attacks, and counterattacks; names are chiseled on marble memorials; and row after row of crosses and Stars of David mark graves of known and unknown soldiers. For now, the rain has chased the group back to cars to head for home, but what they’ve seen has sobered them.
For a long while the passengers are quiet. But by the time they arrive back at the Fernando Gomez home, they are once again laughing, talking, and telling jokes. Towels are passed around so everyone can dry off.