Gospel Story Finder

A boy in my class is mildly handicapped. (I will call him Joe, not his real name.) He is a slow learner, and he stutters, so everybody thinks he is odd. One day at school when I sat by him, a mean boy thought he was being clever by picking on him. But I didn’t think it was clever at all. Joe went and told the teacher. When the teacher came over, I stood up and told her about other mean things that had been done to Joe that he had not told her.
This summer my mom was talking to his mom, and she told my mom that just about every day after school Joe came home crying. When she said that, it made me feel so good that I had been nice to him.
Lisa Miller, age 9Great Falls Fifth Ward

Before I was baptized in 2006, I had been participating in another church that my family belonged to. Initially I was afraid to talk about the Church to my family because I feared rejection. But when I began to place the Posters from the Liahona in a few places in our house, family members began to ask, “What is this picture about? What does it mean?” These questions made it easier to talk about what the Church offers to families. Through this means, my youngest sister was baptized, and now, while I’m on my mission, my father and mother write me saying how they love going to church.
Elder Almeida, 20, Brazil São Paulo East Mission

As the work of translation began, Martin Harris took a transcription of some of the characters copied from the plates to scholars in the eastern United States. In New York City he explained Joseph Smith’s activities to the famous Dr. Charles Anthon, a professor of classical studies at Columbia College, and Dr. Samuel L. Mitchill, a New York medical doctor. These men could not translate the reformed Egyptian, and Martin Harris returned home convinced of the authenticity of Joseph’s work. The incident fulfilled a prophecy contained in the Book of Mormon (see 2 Ne. 27:6–20). In subsequent months, Martin Harris served as a scribe while the Prophet translated early sections of the ancient record. Martin Harris later became one of the three witnesses of the Book of Mormon.

There was a time when I didn’t want to be around a girl in my Young Women class. Some of her behaviors didn’t seem very appropriate to me. I asked myself, “Why is she like that?”

Then in a conference, someone talked about how we shouldn’t see people as they are but for who they can become. That hit me hard. I decided to try and see the good things about this young woman. She participated in class. She was willing to come to church even though she and her sister were the only active members in their family. She was willing to come to activities, even when her sister wasn’t as willing.

When I started looking for good things about this young woman, I felt like I was no longer seeing her with my earthly eyes. I felt like I was seeing her through the eyes of God, the way He would see her.

Years ago, as a young missionary, I was assigned to a group of 17 small islands in the South Pacific. One day a member told me that if I would be at a certain harbor on a particular island at sunset the next day, a family would meet me there and listen to the discussions.
What joy that news brought! I was working alone at the time but quickly found four members who were experienced sailors and who agreed to take me to this island.
Early the next morning the five of us started out. A nice breeze moved us swiftly along the coast, through the opening in the reef, and out into the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean.
We made good progress for a few hours, but then the wind began to slow and soon quit, leaving us bobbing aimlessly on a smooth ocean. I suggested that we pray. We pleaded with the Lord three times to send some wind, but still the sails hung limp and listless.
I thought, All that stands between us and the family is a little wind. Why won’t the Lord send it? It’s a righteous desire.
A faithful older brother unlashed the tiny lifeboat and softly said, “Get in. I am going to row you to shore.”
I was astonished. It was miles to shore. The sun was hot, and this man was old. He said, “We have an assignment from the Lord. Before the sun sets this day, you will be teaching the gospel and bearing testimony to a family who wants to listen. Get in the boat.”
We got into the boat; the old man bent his back and began to row. He did not look up, rest, or talk. Hour after hour he rowed and rowed and rowed, fulfilling the calling he had from the Lord—to get a missionary to a family who wanted to hear the gospel. He was the Lord’s wind that day.
Just as the sun slipped below the horizon, the lifeboat touched shore. A family was waiting. I went to their home and taught them the gospel. The family believed and eventually was baptized.
How often do we quit because we pray for wind and none comes? Instead, we need to listen for the Lord’s answer when we pray and then act upon his answer. On the boat, five men prayed, but only one heard and acted. God gave him the strength to be His wind that day, and He will give us the strength to be His wind when we do what He asks.

Sometimes service requires long periods of time and much patience and faith. Sister Craet of the St. Niklaas Branch, Antwerp Belgium Stake, suffered a brain hemorrhage and fell into a coma. Sister Poula Buyse, the Relief Society president, immediately arranged for people to take turns staying with Sister Craet. As the weeks went by, some visitors became discouraged, thinking Sister Craet would never recover. So Sister Buyse began to stay longer and longer with Sister Craet, talking to her, reading to her, and singing hymns.
Sister Craet did eventually regain consciousness—but she was partially paralyzed and could not speak clearly. Her road to recovery was slow and painful. Sister Buyse cared for her when nursing personnel were absent, giving her company, love, and hope. Sister Buyse did more than talk about charity in Relief Society; she lived it.

Eegik Tuchiak felt the chill of the icy Alaskan wind through his parka as the snowmobile sped across the coastal plain. Even scrunching close behind his father in the seat ahead did not cut the cold very much.
Eegik was both happy and worried. This was the first time his father had taken him to count the musk-oxen. Other times he had been too young to be around the skittish animals. Am I old enough now if something happens? he wondered.
“Hold tight!” he heard his father, Ukak, call. “We will near the herd soon.”
The grind of the motor and the whistling wind were the only sounds to be heard along the Nunivak Island snow hills, polished hard by the constant wind. The crusty white surface gave a dusky light to the short winter days.
“There they are!” Father shouted.
Gradually the engine slowed and the snowmobile slid to a stop. “We will keep the motor running, son,” Ukak said, picking up his rifle. “It will freeze if we don’t.”
Eegik hopped off the machine and peered before him. Ahead, a small musk-ox herd was bunched up against a low sea cliff. Already they were forming their defensive line—heads out, backsides together in a rough circle. With heads lowered and rows of horns facing the danger, the animals scuffed the ground nervously. Long brown fur swayed in the wind.
“They look like fur rugs,” Eegik remarked.
“Yes,” his father answered, “and the giviut (wool) makes warm sweaters. But,” he added, “they are good fighters, too, when there is no way out. See the horns curling down from the tops of their heads like stiff wigs? We will get closer. The oomingmuk (bearded ones) hide their young behind them.”
Eegik felt a deep pride in his father, who had been schooled by the government. Now he was hired by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game to keep an eye on the growing musk-ox herd, one of the hardiest animals in the world. Today he had to check on the population of the herd and count them.
Slowly and quietly the two left the machine and crawled over the snow, watching the herd skitter at the movement. One bull lowered and shook his head, taking short stamping steps forward and backward. Sensing his restlessness, the other animals jostled together and tightened the ring. Eegik could see one small head push forward, a young one anxious to do battle if necessary.
“They run swiftly,” Ukak whispered. “We must not frighten them.”
The two inched forward, sliding over the ice several yards apart, until they were within fifty yards of the herd. The lead bull, confused and frightened, danced excitedly in his position.
Suddenly, the bull gave a snort and charged forward with the speed of a much lighter animal. Ukak leaped up—his rifle flying—and tried to dodge as the animal attacked. But the musk-ox was more sure on his feet and swerved to the side, throwing Eegik’s father to the ice.
Without thinking, Eegik shouted his surprise and fell on his stomach. At the outburst, the frightened musk-oxen broke their ring, skittered excitedly, and clattered off in a wild rush.
His heart pounding, Eegik scrambled to his feet and hurried to his father, who lay sprawled on the ice.
“Father!” he cried, pushing at his parka. “Father, are you all right?”
Ukak opened his eyes and tried to rise. A shudder went through him. “My wrist … ,” he said, painfully. “I think it’s broken. Are the oomingmuk gone?”
Eegik nodded. “Can you walk, Father?” he asked.
“We should make my arm straight,” Ukak said, gritting his teeth against the pain.
“But there are no sticks,” Eegik answered.
His thoughts racing, Eegik looked around, trying to find something straight and hard. But the barren arctic desert covered now by the ice held no useful object.
Then Eegik spotted the gun a few feet away. “The rifle, Father!” he cried. “We can use the rifle.”
“My son,” Ukak said, nodding, “it is a good idea.”
With his mittened hands, Eegik lifted the gun and emptied the chamber of bullets. Gently, he slid the barrel up his father’s sleeve to the elbow and wrapped the injured arm with the leather ties from his parka.
“There!” he finally said, leaning back to look at his handiwork. “That will help until we get home.”
Ukak smiled. “It is feeling better already,” he said.
With Eegik helping, the two made their way to the waiting snowmobile.
“You will have to drive,” Ukak said, holding the rifle butt with his good hand.
“I can,” the boy replied.
Eegik helped his father onto the seat, eased in front, and started off with the machine.
The journey back was slow, Eegik being careful to keep the ride as smooth as possible. Within an hour, they entered Mekoryuk and drove to their home.
At the sound of their approach, Eegik’s mother opened the door. “What’s wrong?” she asked when she saw that Eegik was in the driver’s seat.
“The oomingmuk did not like our visit,” Father answered, cradling his arm as he eased himself from the machine. “I might still be there, but for Eegik. I’m glad I took our son along.”
Eegik lifted his chin. He had wondered if he were old enough to help his father check on the skittish musk-oxen. Now he knew that he was.

There is an old story of a waiter who asked a customer whether he had enjoyed the meal. The guest replied that everything was fine, but it would have been better if they had served more bread. The next day, when the man returned, the waiter doubled the amount of bread, giving him four slices instead of two, but still the man was not happy. The next day, the waiter doubled the bread again, without success.

On the fourth day, the waiter was really determined to make the man happy. And so he took a nine-foot-long (3-m) loaf of bread, cut it in half, and with a smile, served that to the customer. The waiter could scarcely wait for the man’s reaction.

After the meal, the man looked up and said, “Good as always. But I see you’re back to giving only two slices of bread.”

Many years ago I worked for one of our railroads. A switchman was aimlessly strolling about the platform one day. I asked him to move a car to another track. He exploded. He threw his cap on the pavement and jumped up and down on it, swearing like a drunken sailor. I stood there and laughed at his childish behavior. Noting my laughter, he began to laugh at his own foolishness. He then quietly climbed on the switch engine, drove it over to the empty car, and moved it to an empty track.

I thought of a verse from Ecclesiastes: “Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of fools” (Ecclesiastes 7:9).

There came a time, early in my mission, when I knew that I had to know whether the Church was true and Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. I felt what President Thomas S. Monson expressed so clearly in our last general conference: “If you do not have a firm testimony of these things, do that which is necessary to obtain one. It is essential for you to have your own testimony in these difficult times, for the testimonies of others will carry you only so far.”4 I knew what was necessary. I needed to read the Book of Mormon with a sincere heart, with real intent, and ask God whether it is true.
Listen to our Heavenly Father’s remarkable promise given through the prophet Moroni: “When ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.”5
In order to receive what was in the Book of Mormon, I needed to read it. I started at the beginning of the book and read every day. Some receive a witness very quickly. For others, it will take more time and more prayer and may include reading the book several times. I needed to read the entire book before I received the promised witness. However, God did manifest the truth of it unto me by the power of the Holy Ghost.
In my missionary journal, I described my joy in knowing the truth as well as my personal expression of commitment and real intent to act on the truth I had received. I wrote: “I have pledged with my Father in Heaven and with myself to do my very best, to give it 100 percent for the rest of my life, whatever I am asked, I’ll do, but for now I have the rest of my mission and I am going to make it a great mission, one that I won’t feel bad about, but not for me, for the Lord. I love the Lord, and I love the work, and I just pray that that feeling will never leave me.”
I came to know that constant nourishment and continuing effort to repent and keep the commandments are needed to never have that feeling leave. President Monson said, “A testimony needs to be kept vital and alive through continued obedience to the commandments of God and through daily prayer and scripture study.”6

“OK,” our mom said, “it’s finally time to remodel your bedroom, girls.” My sister Shannara and I were so excited! We had been waiting a long time to fix up our room. Our mom told us we could do anything we wanted. Then my sister, who is almost a Mia Maid, said, “How about if we do a Young Women theme?” As soon as she said it, we knew that was what we wanted.
We painted all of the walls and even the ceiling. We chose a beautiful blue color for the walls. My dad added crown molding and put up new blinds. The best part was the frames we made to hold the Young Women values, each represented in their value color. We hung them on the wall with ribbon and crystal drawer knobs. Finally, we put up a mirror and a big picture of the Sacramento California Temple. Just under the temple picture we put a picture of my sister and me when we were small, wearing my mom’s wedding dress.
We love everything about our room. I like knowing that we could work hard and make something beautiful. But more than that, I love how I feel when I am in there. It is so calm and peaceful, and I like to look around and see everything that is important to me. I’m glad I have a wonderful new room, but I’m even more glad for the values that make both my room and my life beautiful.

Not long after being called as a stake patriarch, one of us gave a 93-year-old sister her patriarchal blessing. The words pronounced in that blessing were a heaven-sent message of approval for a life well lived in valiant service to the Lord. More than reassurance, she was given additional counsel and direction for her life both here and hereafter. She was also told that the long-awaited reunion with her beloved eternal companion who had passed away years ago was not far off. Both she and the immediate family members present wept and embraced and celebrated her willingness to seek this revelation from the Lord.

Shortly thereafter, this stalwart sister passed through the veil.

I treasure the memory of that day when I began more fully to understand the power of a patriarchal blessing in whatever season of life it might be received.

Several years ago my husband and I asked our children what they liked about the recent general conference. Our then-16-year-old daughter was elated. She said, “I loved it! I loved hearing inspired, intelligent prophets and leaders affirm motherhood.” Then she told us that this was one of the disturbing anxieties in her life: “I just don’t hear it from anyone—not at seminary, not in Young Women, and definitely not at school; nowhere except at home.”
I don’t know if her experience is similar to that of other young women, but I suspect it is. I know that for some time it has not been vogue for women to extol the virtues of motherhood or for young women to express the desires of their hearts to be mothers.
I particularly noticed this some time ago when I talked with a group of about 20 Laurels whom I had never met before. I asked them what their goals were. The first few mentioned educational goals such as getting a PhD; some said they would like to go on a mission—all worthy goals. Finally one girl timidly expressed the desire to be a mother. Then a few more girls talked about other goals. After one more girl mentioned motherhood, the rest of them joined in. But it was quite courageous for those first two girls to admit they wanted to be mothers. And this was in a very safe setting.
Besides the fact that admitting this goal may set a girl up for ridicule, it may also set her up for feeling like a failure. She knows she doesn’t have complete control over achieving this goal, which may make her feel vulnerable in stating it. It is also a goal that requires great unselfishness; it may require setting aside other more glamorous goals. I am sensitive to the many issues facing our young women, but I still feel that I must teach eternal principles.
I would like to affirm motherhood, to talk about the newest phrase in our Young Women theme: “be prepared to strengthen home and family.” I will address five things we as parents and leaders must do for our young women.
All families, from the best to the most troubled, are in need of strengthening. Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said, “If we think other families don’t have any difficulties or any problems, we just don’t know them well enough.” We need to encourage girls to turn to their mothers and fathers not only to receive help but to give help.
Several of our general board members grew up in homes with parents who were less active in the Church. One of them had a wise Young Women leader who counseled her to be with her family when they did recreational things on Sunday but to maintain her personal standards. So if they went to a swimming club, she would go with them to visit with them, but she herself would not go swimming. She was able to build a tender relationship with her family.
I know a young woman who ruefully saw her brother associating with the wrong group of friends. After praying fervently for him one night, she followed an impression to pick him up from the party he was attending. She drove around with him for some time just talking to him about who he was as a member of their family and who he was as a member of Heavenly Father’s family and of his responsibility to honor those identities. He was able to turn things around in his life, partially because of the love of his sister.
Youth often feel lonely or isolated either socially or spiritually. Friendships and close ties with their brothers and sisters are the best antidote. One teenager was rejected by a group of girls at her school. Her brothers and sisters eased her sorrow by including her in their activities and giving her extra doses of love.
All these are examples of young women who strengthened their homes and families. Serving families is a way of covenant keeping, and covenant keeping reaps the promised blessing of having the Spirit in our lives. We must help our young women begin where they are, in whatever kind of family they are in, to strengthen their homes and families.
I believe that one way we can arm our girls spiritually is to help them develop temporal skills or talents. We know that to the Lord all things are spiritual (see D&C 29:34).
Homemaking skills are becoming a lost art. I worry about this. When we lose the homemakers in a society, we create an emotional homelessness much like street homelessness, with similar problems of despair, drugs, immorality, and lack of self-worth. In a publication called The Family in America, Bryce Christensen writes that the number of homeless people on the street “does not begin to reveal the scope of homelessness in America. For since when did the word home signify merely physical shelter, or homelessness merely the lack of such shelter? … Home [signifies] not only shelter, but also emotional commitment, security, and belonging. Home has connoted not just a necessary roof and warm radiator, but a place sanctified by the abiding ties of wedlock, parenthood, and family obligation; a place demanding sacrifice and devotion, but promising loving care and warm acceptance.”
So we must teach homemaking skills, including practical ones such as cooking, sewing, budgeting, and beautifying. We must let young women know that homemaking skills are honorable and can help them spiritually as well as temporally. Making a home appealing physically will encourage loved ones to want to be there and will help create the kind of atmosphere that is conducive to the Spirit.
Sunday lessons, Mutual, and Personal Progress are all programs that provide times and ways to teach these necessary lessons. I think of my own experience as a Laurel adviser. The young women in my stewardship had one year until they would be out in the world on their own. I asked them what they needed to know to be ready for that independence. From their list of needs—balancing a checkbook, applying for colleges and jobs, cooking something besides cookies, and so forth—we planned our Mutual activities. I no longer had any problems with attendance, because we were preparing skills the young women needed to fulfill their important future roles. I could see that in the process of learning temporal skills, some spiritual skills were developing simultaneously. There was more genuine friendship and concern for one another. Mothers told me that the spiritual tenor of their homes improved as the young women shared some of their newfound skills.
This is what we as parents and leaders must do. We must help young women develop practical and spiritual skills that will bless their future homes.
The two most powerful tools we have to inspire our young women are our examples and our sincere words.
I’ve seen many inspirational Young Women leaders who exemplify living their roles with nobility and joy. I remember the powerful example of my Laurel adviser, who was faithful in rearing her children in the Church even though her husband was less active. I know a young woman whose parents weren’t active in the Church. She was impressionable and teachable and learned well from the examples of her leaders. She learned how to fast and how to hold family home evening by participating with her teachers in these activities.
My best and most consistent example in learning the joys of homemaking and mothering was my own mother. She told me many times every day how much she treasured being a mother and homemaker, and then she lived those words in every action. She sang as she folded laundry; she exulted over the clean smell in a freshly scrubbed bathroom; she taught me how to read and write, sew and cook, love and serve. Because she emanated the Spirit and the fruits of love, joy, peace, meekness, long-suffering, and temperance, I felt it, and I knew I wanted the same things in my life (see Gal. 5:22–23). Her example continues to teach me daily.
I want all of you to know the great joy I feel in being a mother, wife, and homemaker. We should express our joy often through our words, actions, and countenances.
It has been alarming recently to feel the full fury of Satan’s attack on families. Alternative lifestyles, abortion, cohabitation, divorce, immorality, and violence are issues that are screaming in our faces at every turn.
Even though I feel alarm, I do not feel fear. Fear is the opposite of faith. Paul told Timothy that “God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Tim. 1:7).
I feel faith in Jesus Christ and in His restored gospel upon the earth. I feel empowered by the truths of the gospel succinctly stated in the proclamation on the family. It takes a stand on each of the issues I just mentioned, as well as others. For example:
Alternative lifestyles: “Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose. …
“… We further declare that God has commanded that the sacred powers of procreation are to be employed only between man and woman, lawfully wedded as husband and wife.”
Abortion: “We affirm the sanctity of life and of its importance in God’s eternal plan.”
Cohabitation: “Marriage between man and woman is essential to [God’s] eternal plan.”
Divorce: “Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children.”
Immorality: “We warn that individuals who violate covenants of chastity … will one day stand accountable before God.”
Violence: “We warn that individuals who … abuse spouse or offspring … will one day stand accountable before God.”
Not only do I feel strengthened by these truths, I feel loved by a wise and all-knowing Father in Heaven, who has blessed us with prophets and apostles to guide this Church. If our young women can know of His love, if they can have the truths of the gospel embedded in their hearts, they will not fear. With strong testimonies of the gospel and a firm knowledge of eternal doctrines, our young women will have the courage to face a world that is desecrating families.
President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) talked about the influence of strong women of God upon the world: “Much of the major growth that is coming to the Church in the last days will come because many of the good women of the world (in whom there is often such an inner sense of spirituality) will be drawn to the Church in large numbers. This will happen to the degree that the women of the Church reflect righteousness and articulateness in their lives and to the degree that the women of the Church are seen as distinct and different—in happy ways—from the women of the world.”
We are distinct and different in happy ways because we know who we are eternally. We are all divinely appointed to these womanly roles of mothering and nurturing.
My cousin Carrie was a sterling example of a single sister who was a happy, generous, loving woman, blessing all with whom she associated. She was killed in an automobile accident when she was in her late 30s, but her final act of goodness prior to her untimely death was finishing scrapbooks for each of her nieces and nephews. She was fulfilling her mission to the degree that she could within her opportunities.
Now a word to you wonderful Young Women leaders. I hope the Spirit will help you know how to simplify—by that I mean to spend your valuable time on the important things. Teach principles and doctrines. Give love. Be examples. Make your teaching appealing and as simple as possible.
While what we as leaders are doing with young women now is crucial to saving this world, what we are doing with our eternal callings is of even greater importance. We also carry a mantle for our callings as wives, mothers, and homemakers. We need to call upon the Lord for His Spirit to be with us in these eternal roles. Our homes may be our last and only place of refuge, as our prophets are prophesying. I am pleading with you to be exemplary leaders but not to neglect your home responsibilities.
How significant are our roles as parents! How crucial are our roles as leaders! How imperative that we properly train the future righteous women of God! I know this work we are engaged in is His work, and I am grateful for the wonderful privilege we all have to be His instruments.

In order to finish the temple, the prophet Wilford Woodruff asked everyone to make special contributions to the temple fund. Even young children were encouraged to give whatever they could. Many children worked on holidays and gave all their earnings to the temple fund. Other children asked to do extra chores around the house in order to earn some money to give.
During this time, one young Primary boy was trying to earn enough money to buy something for himself. He found work at a neighbor’s farm. After working very hard, he was paid twenty-five cents—a lot of money in those days—for his efforts. He “clutched the coin and ran home” excitedly to show his father how much he had earned. “Pa, look what I have!” he proudly announced. “The next time you go to Provo,” he continued, “I can get a new pair of jeans with this money.”
His father reminded him of the prophet’s request for funds for the temple. “President Wilford Woodruff needs ten cents of this quarter for the Salt Lake Temple. Here, I’ll give you fifteen cents for the coin, and we’ll go together to give the dime to our bishop, who will send it to Salt Lake City.” The boy gladly took the money to the bishop so that he, too, could help build the temple.

Elisa (4) and LaRece (5) spend a lot of time with their father, who flies supplies into the native villages. They take turns going with him and helping him load and unload the plane. Planes are the only way to get to many parts of Alaska, and the people who live in the remote areas are happy to see the supply planes come in. LaRece and Elisa get to meet lots of people in many places, and they share their sunny smiles and their love of the gospel wherever they go. They are starting their missionary work early!

May I tell a little story? More than half a century ago, I was standing on a little railway station platform in Cardston, Canada. I was leaving for England on a mission. My saintly mother stood there with me and held my hand. This is what she said. “Hugh, my son, do you remember when you were a little boy you often had bad dreams, nightmares, and you called out to me as I was sleeping in the next room: ‘Mother, Mother, are you there?’ Do you remember I always said, ‘Yes, my son, I’m here. Just turn over and go to sleep. Everything is all right.’” She said, “My boy, five thousand miles must now separate us, across a continent and an ocean. You are not going to have bad dreams only at night, but many times, in the daytime, you are going to want to call for help and comfort. Son, when you are beset with difficulties, when you meet temptation, when you are confused and don’t know where to go, call out and say, ‘Father, are you there?’” She said, “My boy, I promise you He will always answer and you need not fear.”
My dear sisters, through the intervening years, countless occasions have arisen where men could not help me much, when I felt alone, where I had a nightmare with my eyes wide open. I have taken the advice of my mother and have said, “Father, are you there?” Now He has not spoken to me audibly; He has not appeared to me personally; but He has always answered me. There has come into my heart a quiet peace which enabled me to know that I could, figuratively, turn over and go to sleep.
Hugh B. BrownThe Abundant Life (Bookcraft 1965) pp. 202–3.

When I was called as a General Authority by President Russell M. Nelson, I was flooded with emotions. It was overwhelming. My wife, Julie, and I anxiously awaited the Saturday afternoon session of general conference. It was humbling to be sustained. I carefully counted the steps to my designated seat so as not to fall in my first assignment.
At the conclusion of that session, something happened that had a profound effect on me. The quorum members formed a line and greeted the new General Authorities one by one. Each one shared their love and support. With a hearty abrazo they said, “Don’t worry—you belong.”
In our relationship with the Savior, He looks on the heart and is “no respecter of persons.” Consider how He chose His Apostles. He didn’t pay attention to status or wealth. He invites us to follow Him, and I believe He reassures us that we belong with Him.
This message especially applies to the youth of the Church. I see in you what President Nelson sees in you. He said that “there is something undeniably special about this generation of youth. Your Heavenly Father must have great confidence in you to send you to earth at this time. You were born for greatness!”
I am grateful for what I learn from the youth. I am grateful for what my children teach me, for what our missionaries teach me, and for what my nieces and nephews teach me.
Not too long ago, I was working on our farm with my nephew Nash. He is six and has a pure heart. He is my favorite nephew named Nash, and I believe I am his favorite uncle speaking in conference today.
As he helped me come up with a solution for our project, I said, “Nash, that is a great idea. How did you get so smart?” He looked at me with an expression in his eyes that said, “Uncle Ryan, how do you not know the answer to this question?”
He simply shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and confidently said, “Jesus.”
Nash reminded me that day of this simple and yet profound teaching. The answer to the simplest questions and to the most complex problems is always the same. The answer is Jesus Christ. Every solution is found in Him.

Howard Long was a World War II vet, and he wasn’t in the best of health. Of course, he and his wife, Stella, managed all right. They were pretty independent and really active in the Church. They didn’t need much more than a short home teaching visit to keep their spirits up.

While walking home from school that Tuesday afternoon, I was mulling over in my mind how to out-campaign Tony Toronto, Jill’s opponent. I was piecing together terse, catchy campaign slogans when I spotted Howard Long a half-block down the street. He was on his front lawn, trying to start his mower. My first inclination was to move to the opposite side of the street and pass by as inconspicuously as possible.

Just as I started across the street, Sister Long opened the front door and called out, “Howard, just leave it alone.” There was genuine worry in her voice. “Get one of the neighbors to give you a hand. You’re going to have a heart attack if you’re not careful.”

“It’s always hard to start,” Brother Long huffed.

Generally I was on the shy side, especially around adults. But for some reason I cut back to the sidewalk running past the Longs’ front yard. “Hi, Brother Long,” I called out awkwardly. He looked in my direction, nodded and smiled. “Could you use a hand?”

Howard took a breath and shook his head. “Oh, I think I can get it, Kyle. But I appreciate your asking. I just …”

“Howard,” Sister Long cut him short, stepping out the door and onto the front step. “Don’t be so bullheaded. Let the boy help you.”

Brother Long glanced over his shoulder toward his wife and then looked back at me, winking. “Well, if you don’t mind,” he conceded, stepping back. “I better not rile the boss. I wanted to get the lawn mowed before the garbage truck comes tomorrow.”

I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed the pull rope and worked on starting the motor. It wasn’t long before I was wiping at my brow with the back of my hand. “Doesn’t look like it’s going to start, Brother Long,” I concluded.

“It was getting a little sluggish last fall,” he admitted. I could see the worry in his eyes.

“Look, my friend Joel Manning knows a bunch about engines,” I offered. “If it takes gas, he can fix it. I’ll give him a call.”

“Oh, we don’t need to bother you anymore,” Sister Long said. “You’ve got plenty to do without worrying about us. We’ll make out.”

“It’s no problem. Can I use your phone?” I asked, moving toward the house.

A moment later I jabbered into the phone. “I need your help, Joel, old buddy. I told the Longs you could fix anything that guzzles gas.”

“Huh?”

“Get over here. Their lawn mower’s dead and I’ve been bragging about you so long and hard that they insist you come over or they’ll call me a liar.”

“That sounds like your problem.”

“Come on, Joel. You’ll be helping me make my home teaching visit,” I joked.

Fifteen minutes later Joel and I were hunched over the mower. Joel figured out the problem right away: a loose spark plug connection. He was magic. It wasn’t long before that mower was just humming. The Longs didn’t have a huge yard so while Joel mowed, I grabbed a leaf rake and cleaned up the dead grass. There were also some leaves and branches in the backyard, so we hauled those out to the curb for the garbage truck to pick up the following morning.

It was pushing 6:30 when we finally finished, and both Brother and Sister Long were shaking their heads and apologizing for taking our whole afternoon. “I just didn’t know how Howard was going to get all of this done,” Sister Long commented in amazement.

Brother Long pulled out his wallet and started digging for a few dollar bills. “How much do I owe you?” he asked.

Joel turned to me with a quizzical expression and asked seriously, “Does your bishop let you take money for home teaching? Mine doesn’t.” He winked and grinned.

I coughed and shook my head, trying to appear serious myself. “I don’t think we accept pay for home teaching unless we get it done the first part of the month. Maybe next time.”

Turning to Brother Long, Joel said, “I guess you got the famous end-of-the-month home teaching bonus package. It’s a special deal for families that have to wait to the end of the month for the home teachers to show up,” he joked. “I figure that Kyle’s families probably qualify for this bonus package every month.”

I felt good leaving the Longs’ place that afternoon, but I didn’t think any more about further home teaching. After all, it wasn’t something that preyed on my mind often. I had lots of other things to worry about.

Dewdrops hung on the tips of the long grass blades. Pam smiled as she made her way across the damp lawn. She loved early mornings in the country.
Stillness hung in the air. It was spring magic. She breathed in the sweet scent of lilacs. Everything was perfect.
One long, lonely howl filled the air.
“I’m coming, Lady,” Pam called, filling a bucket with water. She stepped inside the dog run and was immediately greeted by a wet tongue and happy barks. Trying to avoid Lady’s kisses, she filled the water bowl.
Suddenly, Lady ran to the gate of the dog run and barked.
Pam turned to see her best friend, Chuck, walking across the lawn.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re up early.” He reached over the fence to pet Lady. “My family’s going to an amusement park for the day, and Mom said we each could invite a friend. Do you want to go?”
Pam’s face lit up, but her smile soon faded. “I can’t. I promised Mom I’d watch my little brothers while she and Dad paint Grandma’s house.”
“Can’t someone else watch your brothers?”
She set the bucket down. “No.”
Chuck rubbed his chin. “Maybe your mom and dad could take them over to your grandma’s. Or maybe your grandma could watch them here.”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise for Grandma’s birthday,” Pam explained. “Dad took the day off from work so they could finish painting while Grandma’s staying with my sick aunt.”
“Oh.” Chuck’s smile disappeared. “I know it’s been a few years since you went to the amusement park. I thought it was a good idea.”
A sad smile crossed Pam’s face as she thought about the deep-red candy apples she loved, but wouldn’t be eating today. “It was a good idea. Thanks for inviting me.”
As Chuck said good-bye, Pam felt sad. No one had ever invited her to an amusement park before.
It was hard keeping her brothers happy all day long. They played with the dog. They rode bikes. They drew on the sidewalk with chalk. When her brothers grew tired, she put a blanket on the grass and read them the story of Noah’s ark.
Mom came home in time to put the boys to bed. Pam had never been happier to see her mom. Her brothers were a lot of work.
Glad for some quiet, Pam pulled a lawn chair off the porch and dragged it out onto the grass so she could sit under the stars. Fireflies swirled like sparks over the grass, flower beds, and trees.
“Hey there,” Chuck called from across the street.
“Hey, yourself,” Pam called back. “Did you get sunburned?”
Chuck laughed. “Yes, I did. It was awful. The lines were long, my favorite ride broke down, and the hot dog I ate was burnt. You didn’t miss much.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“Maybe.” Chuck stepped into the dim light from the porch. “I thought you might be hungry.” Chuck pulled two deep-red candy apples from behind his back.
Pam’s eyes lit up. “Oh my! Those look great.”
Chuck grinned. “I’ll share, if you tell me why your family is so important.”
Pam knew what Chuck wanted to talk about. He wanted to hear more about the gospel and her belief in an eternal family.
He handed her one of the mouth-watering apples and then sat in the grass to listen while he munched on his own apple.
Somehow she had to help him understand that an eternal family was even more important to her than good friends and candy apples.

President Heber J. Grant tells of a different type of reward that comes from trusting in the Lord. When he was a young man, he heard his bishop in a fast meeting, which was then held on Thursdays (in the early days, we held our fast meetings on Thursdays), make a strong appeal for donations. At that time President Grant had $50 in his pocket which he intended to deposit in the bank. But he was so impressed by his bishop’s appeal that he tendered the whole $50 to the bishop. The bishop took $5 and handed him back $45, stating that $5 was his full share. Then President Grant replied, “Bishop Wooley, by what right do you rob me of putting the Lord in my debt? Didn’t you preach here today that the Lord rewards fourfold? My mother is a widow and she needs two hundred dollars.”

“My boy,” queried the bishop, “do you believe that if I take this other forty-five dollars you will get your two hundred dollars quicker?”

“Certainly,” replied President Grant.

Now here was an expression of trust in the Lord which the bishop could not withstand. He took the remaining $45.

President Grant testified that on his way back to work, “an idea popped” into his head, acting upon which he made $218.50. Speaking on this incident years later, he said, “Someone will say that it would have happened anyway.

“I do not think it would have happened. I do not think I would have got the idea.

“I am a firm believer that the Lord opens up the windows of heaven when we do our duty financially and pours out blessings upon us of a spiritual nature, which are of far greater value than temporal things. But I believe He also gives us blessings of a temporal nature.” (Improvement Era 42:457.)