Gospel Story Finder

First example: When my wife, Elaine, and I went to Spain in 2022, we attended Sunday meetings in a small unit of the Church there. As I sat on the stand and my wife in the congregation, I noticed that she sat by an older woman. When the sacrament meeting ended, I walked toward Elaine and asked her to introduce me to her new friend. She did so and indicated that this woman, who was not a member of the Church, had been visiting the Church for about two years. When I heard that, I asked this God-fearing woman what made her come back and attend our meetings for such an extended period. The woman lovingly replied, “I like to come here because you speak of Jesus Christ in your meetings.”

Clearly, members of the Church in that unit in Spain talked, taught, and testified of Christ in their meetings.

“When I was younger, my family moved across the country. With the help of others, we spent a day loading everything into a large trailer that my dad was going to pull behind our car. The morning we were supposed to leave, I was surprised to wake up and learn our move was delayed by a few days. My father had awoken in the middle of the night with a strong feeling that he was not to pull the trailer. Rather than rationalize away the impression, my dad followed the prompting and delayed our move. Instead, he hired a professional mover who put all of our belongings into one of their trucks.

“When we finally left, we encountered strong winds and overturned trucks and trailers along the way. Our family was grateful for our safety. Without words, my father taught me to have the courage to follow promptings from the Sprit, even when those promptings are inconvenient, even when they might not make sense. I have never forgotten that lesson.”

I always look forward to the priesthood blessings my dad gives us before the school year because they give me strength and peace for the year ahead. I remember being scared when I was going into middle school for the first time because we had just moved. In my blessing I was promised that if I chose the right and was kind to everyone around me, the Lord would watch over me and bless me.
That year I tried to reach out to others and choose the right. I began reading the Book of Mormon, and throughout the year I was filled with peace. I knew the Lord was keeping His promise because I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. At the end of the school year I knew it had been a hard year, but I had tried my best, and the Lord had kept his promise.
I am so thankful I have a dad who can give me priesthood blessings. Those blessings have strengthened my testimony because I have been able to feel and see them working in my life. Knowing that the Lord is able to work through my dad to speak and help me has strengthened my relationship with my Heavenly Father and my earthly father.

Hurrying from her car, Carole gripped her shoulders. The unexpected snowstorm had caught her wearing only a sweater for protection, and she dashed to feel the warmth of the old cottage. She shook the snow from her hair as she stood shivering on the porch, waiting for the door to open.
Carole’s great-aunt Naomi Sweet, nicknamed “Sweetie,” peered out the door into the cold.
“Why, Carole! Oh you dear thing, come now, get yourself out of the storm,” she said.
Carole quickly walked into the warm front room. Boughs of pine and blue spruce curled along the entryway, and a string of gingerbread men dangled from a red ribbon, ready to be cut down and taken home by visitors. Carole smiled and drank in the fragrant smell of cinnamon and ginger, spices that always reminded her of Sweetie’s home.
“My stars, it’s been ages since you’ve been to see me,” said Sweetie. “Oh, and I’ll bet you’re starving! Lucky thing I baked gingersnaps today—I nearly spent the day trimming the tree instead, but today was just the right day to stay in the kitchen and bake.”
Carole sat in the old rocker and snuggled deep into the afghan lying across its back. She felt warm and secure. She had needed to escape, and this was the best cure she could imagine. College had been difficult for her, and although she had originally planned to spend the holidays working to earn more money for school, she decided to come home.
Sweetie set a tall glass of milk and a plate of cookies beside Carole. “You remember we used to always make gingersnaps together?” Sweetie chuckled.
Carole remembered. She had always loved coming to Sweetie’s house, making gingersnaps, drinking lemonade on the porch, planting daffodils, and going on picnics in the meadow. She had missed Sweetie while she was away at college.
“Carole, I didn’t expect you back so soon,” said Sweetie. “I didn’t think you’d get to come home for Christmas this year. Land’s sake, I didn’t get a chance to get your gift yet!”
Carole had been so pressured at school that she decided to come home despite the expense. The very thought of staying away at Christmastime seemed so ridiculous now that she found it difficult to imagine why she had planned to do so in the first place.
Although Carole enjoyed school, there were some disturbing aspects of it. Her courses were intellectually stimulating, but she was required to deal with sacred texts in ways she never had before. Some of her professors discussed the Bible as being nothing more than Hebrew mythology—fairy stories. The professors were so intelligent and knew so much about such vast amounts of information, that Carole could never hold her own in any debate about religion versus history.
Regardless of her strong and intelligent stand in defense of the sacred texts, her professors always ended up winning the discussion, and she would leave class with feelings of confusion. If the Bible was a myth, she reasoned, maybe the Book of Mormon was too. Maybe Joseph Smith was a modern myth. Carole couldn’t be certain about what she felt. But she did know one thing for sure: she no longer felt a closeness with Heavenly Father.
“I just thought of the perfect gift for you, Carole!” said Sweetie, interrupting Carole’s thoughts. “’Course you’ll have to fetch it yourself—my legs not being what they used to be. You just get yourself up to the attic, and you’ll find it in the mahogany trunk. I know you’ll catch on to what it is when you look. Now, it’s not much, but you understand.”
Carole hadn’t come with the intention of getting a gift, but she climbed the stairs to the attic. As she went up, she reflected on her failing testimony. It was as if she felt guilty for being in Sweetie’s home because of her uncertainty about the gospel. She wondered if Sweetie knew of her doubts and questions.
The attic door whistled as she opened it. She felt for the small lamp that she knew was towards the right of the room. An old spinning wheel hung on the north wall, its spindle dull and tarnished. Beneath it stood an oak rolltop desk covered with a sprinkling of dust. Boxes were piled neatly along the south wall. Carole remembered helping Sweetie organize her attic clutter into those boxes.
Carole walked past the old furniture and crates and sat down on a stool beside the old mahogany trunk under the window. Gently, she unlatched the lock and lifted the lid, releasing a musty odor of wood and paper.
She picked up an old straw hat with a large yellow ribbon tied around it. Sweetie used to wear the hat when they picnicked in the sun. Beneath it was a bouquet of paper flowers that Carole had made in grade school on May Day. She laughed remembering how proud she had been of the sorry bunch of flowers. A packet of letters was tied with red string. Carole gently set the bundle aside.
Next she spotted a small navy velvet box. This must have been what Sweetie wanted her to have. Carole opened the box and saw the delicate amethyst and pearl ring that she had so often admired on Sweetie’s finger. Sweetie had worn it every day until it began to hurt her fingers. Carole had always wanted the ring, and she had often asked Sweetie if she could have it, but Sweetie always said she would save it for a special day. Carole closed the box and put it into her pocket.
Though she had found what she was looking for, Carole continued to look through the trunk, finding an old orange scarf. It had been Carole’s first attempt at knitting, and she had surprised Sweetie with it on her birthday. As Carole reached to examine her work more closely, something fell from within the scarf. She withdrew her hand for a moment, then grasped a well-worn Book of Mormon. On the cover was printed, “NAOMI STEWART SWEET.” Carole opened the book to the inside cover and read,
“To Sweetie,
“This is a copy of the book I was telling you about. I hope you’ll read it even though you think it’s all fairy tales and wishes. Daddy says that you should read it and then pray to Heavenly Father and ask him if it’s true.
“I’ve already read it with my family, and even though I don’t understand everything, I know I can understand more each time I read it. I think the stories have good messages, and I love the prophets that wrote them. I also love Jesus, and I want to be like him. I love you, and I want you to know Jesus like I know him.
“With love from Carole.”
Carole clutched the book and looked out the window at fluffy snowflakes falling in glistening crescents along the corners of the windowpanes. How could it be that she had known Jesus so much more when she was only eleven years old? Where had her love of the Savior gone? She again thumbed through the book and looked at its color-streaked pages. Sweetie had read it and read it countless times. It was not age that made the book look like an antique, but its use. Carole had brought Sweetie the gospel message, and now she felt she was letting her down by wavering in her own testimony.
Carole began reading the marked verses and the notes written in the margins. One verse marked in yellow caught her eye, “O … the foolishness of men! When they are learned they think they are wise, and they hearken not unto the counsel of God, … wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not” (2 Ne. 9:28).
Images of her professors and their accusations of the irrational nature of religion and of the Church flashed through her mind. Yet she felt triumphant that she had been defending what she knew deep inside was right. She continued to read, “But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God” (2 Ne. 9:29).
Carole felt a flicker of hope. She was doing something good by learning at college. She just needed to keep up her study of the gospel. All at once, her guilt fled, and she realized she had a lot of work to do to get her testimony to the height it had been during her Primary days. For the first time in months, she felt happy.
Carole quickly put everything back into the trunk and came down the stairs. Sweetie was waiting with eager anticipation.
“Well, do you like it? Did you find the ring? I was sure you’d want it,” she smiled.
“Oh, Sweetie, thank you. Thank you for the best present anyone has ever given me!”
As Carole hugged Sweetie, she smelled cinnamon and ginger, and she smiled as a new feeling of hope grew inside of her.
“Come on, Sweetie,” she said. “You’ve got a tree that needs trimming.”

While serving as the elders quorum president of his married student ward, Ron became acquainted with Jon Huntsman Sr., the ward’s high council adviser. Jon was immediately impressed with the way Ron ran the quorum.
“He had incredible leadership and organizational skills,” recalls Elder Huntsman, who served as an Area Seventy from 1996 to 2011. “I thought it unusual that a young man who was still in college could run a quorum in such a way.”
For several months, Jon watched Ron turn ideas into action as he completed priesthood duties. When a senior marketing position opened at Jon’s company—which would become Huntsman Chemical Corporation—he concluded that Ron had the skills he wanted and offered him the job. The position started the following week in Ohio, USA.
“I told Melanie, ‘I’m not going to drop out of school and move,’” Ron recalls. “I’ve worked my whole life to graduate from college, and I’m finally close to my goal.”
Melanie reminded Ron that finding a good job was why he was in school.
“What are you worried about?” she asked. “I know how to pack and move. I’ve been doing it my whole life. I’ll let you call your mother every night. Let’s go.”
Jon’s confidence in Ron proved well placed. Under Jon’s mentorship, Ron advanced quickly in the growing company, becoming its president and chief operating officer in 1986. He traveled extensively for the company—both domestically and internationally. Despite his busy schedule, Ron tried to be home on weekends. And when he traveled, he would occasionally take family members with him.
“When he was home, he really made the children feel special and loved,” Melanie says. He attended their activities and sporting events whenever possible. Jenessa MacPherson, one of the couple’s four daughters, says her father’s Sunday ecclesiastical duties often kept him from sitting with the family during Church meetings.
“We would fight over who got to sit by him at church because it was such a novel thing to have him there,” she says. “I remember putting my hand in his hand and thinking to myself, ‘If I could just learn to be like him, I’ll be on the right track and will be becoming more like the Savior.’ He was always my hero.”
The couple’s son, Christian, recalls fond memories of “father-son time.” Friends came and went because of the family’s frequent moves, he says, “but my father was always my best friend”—albeit a competitive one.
Whether shooting a basketball with Christian, playing a board game with his daughters, or fishing with family and friends, Ron loved to win.
“While we were growing up, he would never let anyone win,” Christian says. “We had to earn it, but it made us better. And the tradition continues with his loving grandchildren.”
Over the years, Ron’s family could not help but notice how ministering in Church leadership magnified his ability to show love and compassion, to express feelings of the Spirit, and to inspire others to do their best. After the birth of Ron and Melanie’s grandson Paxton, the family relied heavily on Ron’s spiritual strength and support.
Paxton, born with a rare genetic disorder, suffered from myriad health problems that tested the family physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Elder Rasband has called the journey that followed Paxton’s birth “a crucible for learning special lessons tied to the eternities.”4
During Paxton’s short three years on earth—when questions were many and answers were few—Elder Rasband stood as a spiritual pillar, leading his family in drawing upon the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
With the announcement of his new calling, several family members and friends were not surprised. “Those of us who know him best,” Christian says, “raised our hands the highest when he was sustained as an Apostle.”
In 1996, at age 45, Ron was in the middle of a successful career when the call came to serve as mission president of the New York New York North Mission. Like the Apostles of old, he “straightway left [his] nets” (Matthew 4:20).
“Accepting the call took only a microsecond,” Elder Rasband says. He said to the Lord, “You want me to go serve; I’ll go serve.”
Ron took along a great lesson he had learned from his professional experience: “People are more important than anything else.”5 With that knowledge and his honed leadership skills, he was ready to begin full-time service in the Lord’s kingdom.
Ron and Melanie found missionary work in New York City both challenging and invigorating. Ron was quick to delegate responsibility to the missionaries—inspiring their loyalty, and teaching, building, and lifting them in the process.
In 2000, a short eight months after Ron and Melanie had completed their mission, Ron was called to the Seventy, where his preparation, experience, and many talents have blessed the Church. As a member of the Seventy, he served as a counselor in the Europe Central Area Presidency, helping to oversee the work in 39 nations. Though he left college more than 40 years ago, he remains a serious student, welcoming ongoing mentoring from his senior Brethren as he supervised the North America West, Northwest, and three Utah Areas; served as Executive Director of the Temple Department; and served in the Presidency of the Seventy, working closely with the Twelve.
Recently, Elder Rasband observed, “What a great honor and privilege it is for me to be the least among the Twelve and to learn from them in every way and in every occasion.”6
Mormon Preachers, First Missionaries in Denmark, by Arnold Friberg (based on a painting by Christen Dalsgaard, 1856); Dan Jones Awakens Wales, by Clark Kelley Price
Two paintings adorn the walls of Elder Rasband’s office. One is of Mormon missionaries teaching a family in Denmark in the 1850s. The second is of early missionary Dan Jones preaching from the perch of a well in the British Isles. The paintings remind Elder Rasband of his own ancestry.
“These early pioneers gave their all to the gospel of Jesus Christ and leave a legacy for their posterity to follow,” he has testified.7 What pushed Elder Rasband’s ancestors forward amidst adversity and persecution is what most qualifies him for his new calling: a knowledge and a sure witness of the Lord and His work.
“I have so very much to learn in my new calling,” he has said. “I feel very humble about that. But there’s one aspect of my calling I can do. I can bear testimony ‘of the name of Christ in all the world’ (D&C 107:23). He lives!”8
As a great-grandson of pioneers, he adds: “What they felt, I feel. What they knew, I know.”9
And what they hoped for in their posterity is embodied in the life, teachings, and service of Elder Ronald A. Rasband, who is following their example and honoring their legacy as he goes forward as one of the Lord’s special witnesses.

President Hinckley recalls what happened when his father and mother followed the counsel of a living prophet.
In 1915 President Joseph F. Smith asked the people of the Church to have family home evening. My father said we would do so, that we would warm up the parlor where Mother’s grand piano stood and do what the President of the Church had asked.
We were miserable performers as children. We could do all kinds of things together while playing, but for one of us to try to sing a solo before the others was like asking ice cream to stay hard on the kitchen stove. In the beginning, we would laugh and make cute remarks about one another’s performance. But our parents persisted. We sang together. We prayed together. We listened quietly while Mother read Bible and Book of Mormon stories. Father told us stories from his memory.
Out of those simple little meetings, held in the parlor of our old home, came something indescribable and wonderful. Our love for our parents was strengthened. Our love for brothers and sisters was enhanced. Our love for the Lord was increased. An appreciation for simple goodness grew in our hearts. These wonderful things came about because our parents followed the counsel of the President of the Church.

Some young women of the Orange California Stake appeared on a local television talk show to explain the Young Women program.
In a departure from the usual format of the interview show, this program was presented by the Young Women themselves. Two young women were invited to participate. Theresa Johnson, 17, of the Orange First Ward, showed how a girl reports her personal progress as she and an adviser, Kathy Petersen, had a Personal Progress interview about Theresa’s goals in the areas of service and compassion.
“It was a neat experience,” said Theresa, “but I don’t know if I’d like to do it often. It’s a lot of hurry up and get there and wait and wait and wait until it’s your turn in front of the camera.”
Alisha Powell, a Beehive from the Orange Fourth Ward, showed her talent in a ballet dance number. She said, “We were all very nervous, but we were excited to be able to tell people who are not members of the Church how fun and exciting the Personal Progress program is.”

My friend Rachel asked me if I would attend church with her. She was active in her own faith, and I was curious to see how her church was different from mine. I asked my parents for permission to go with her. They said that since her worship service time did not conflict with our meeting times, I could attend.
Many things about her church’s service were unfamiliar to me: the songs and the prayers were different; the way the preacher spoke was unfamiliar. When the offering plate was circulated, I wasn’t sure what to do.
Finally, the preacher asked anyone in the group who hadn’t publicly accepted Jesus Christ as his or her Savior to come forward. Rachel whispered, encouraging me to go. I was hesitant. In our ward the bishop had never asked anyone to come forward and publicly accept Christ. I didn’t know what to do. Perhaps I hadn’t done something that was important for my salvation. I left the meeting confused.
As I thought about this experience later, I came to realize that I had indeed publicly accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. I had been baptized by one having priesthood authority from Jesus Christ. My baptism was a covenant with Heavenly Father that I would take upon myself the name of Jesus Christ and be His disciple. I promised that I would keep His commandments and try to be like Him. Present at my baptism were priesthood holders who acted as witnesses, as well as family and ward members.
Since my baptism and confirmation, I have had the opportunity every Sunday to partake of the sacrament and witness once again to my Heavenly Father that I will continue to take upon myself the name of Christ.

One of the biggest adjustments to life as a missionary is having a companion with you all the time. He or she may come from a different country, speak a different language, or have a different perspective on doing missionary work together. Missionaries have to learn to be comfortable spending so much time with someone else. And they have to learn how to teach together. Elder Juilfs recalls, “We had one lesson that was really rough. We had different ideas and were going against each other. But we learned how important it is to teach as a companionship and let ideas flow.”

Mobile phones are expensive in Chile, but I set a goal in 2016 to earn enough money to buy one. For an entire year, I bought candy and alfajores1 wholesale and sold them to my friends at school. I saved everything I made. I didn’t go out to lunch, and I didn’t go to the movies.
I didn’t want to ask my parents for a phone. I wanted to be able to say I earned it myself. My dad encouraged me. “Carol, keep it up,” he would say.
I learned a lot. Nothing is free. Goals take effort, but we should never give up. When we earn things and realize how much work it takes to get them, we value them more.
I learned that I have to decide what I want to achieve and where I want to go. If I want to get married in the temple, I need to go to church and seminary and later institute and young single adult activities. And I need to date worthy young men. Achieving goals requires sacrifice now for something better later.
Carol, 15, Chile

You might say, “I am ill-equipped; my talents are so few.” Then I would ask you to take a little journey with me—a journey to a hospital in Salt Lake City, the University Hospital, where I had the privilege of being summoned to the side of a man, a man who was an inactive member of the Church and who had many weaknesses, a man who was in danger of dying. As I walked to the hospital ward, I noted the sign on the doorway, “Intensive care. Enter only with permission.” I sought the required permission, then went to the bedside of this good man.
The great machines of medical science were by his side, mechanically taking over when his heart would falter. An oxygen mask covered his face. He turned toward me, but there was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes, because the man in whose presence I stood was totally blind. Yet, as he heard my voice and thought back on more pleasant times, tears flowed, and he requested a blessing.
At the conclusion of the blessing, I recalled how this man had been blessed with a beautiful voice. While he was not a regular attender at church, he would come—particularly on Mother’s Day—and sing the beautiful number “That Wonderful Mother of Mine” and other songs honoring mothers. No person who ever heard him sing left without acquiring a deeper appreciation for his own mother that resulted in his honoring her and all womanhood. Similarly, he would participate in Christmas programs and would sing “O Holy Night.” No person who heard him sing this song came away without dedicating his life to better serving the Lord and keeping Christmas rather than spending Christmas.
The thought came into my heart that here is a man who, in his own humble way, has used the talent God had given him to bring joy and happiness into the lives of others. Multiply his talent (a beautiful voice) by the many talents you possess—then plan where your Christmas opportunity might be this very year. Your opportunity may come at a time when you least expect it.

The Waji family, led by Waji Boru and his wife, Zenbech, have an inspiring story of faith and perseverance that spans over 25 years. As parents of seven children and grandparents to six, their long-awaited dream of entering the temple and being sealed together as husband and wife became a reality after years of challenges and delays.
Their journey to the gospel began during a work trip to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, where they were introduced to and joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At the time, there was no Church branch in their hometown of Debra Zeit, and attending church required a 47-kilometer weekly journey to Addis Ababa. Despite the difficulty, the family made the effort to travel every week. Eventually, they were able to worship closer to home, gathering with other members in the house of President Ayele Asfaw Kelkaye, a fellow Latter-day Saint. The early years of their conversion were marked by this dedication to the gospel, but the path was not always easy.
For eight years, the Waji family rarely attended church, facing spiritual and personal challenges. It was during this time that Elder and Sister Moyer, senior missionaries, visited their home. That visit marked a turning point in their lives. Ada Worq, one of Waji and Emebet’s daughters, recalls the significance of that moment: “I will never forget what they said when they visited us. They asked, ‘What can we do for you?’ and then spoke to us about Christ’s love and faith. Everyone was crying, touched by the Spirit.”
This visit ignited a renewal of faith within the family. They recommitted to the gospel and returned to full activity in the Church. However, their path to the temple remained challenging. For Waji and Zenbech, being sealed in the temple for time and all eternity became a cherished goal, but their journey was met with multiple setbacks. Their planned trips to the temple failed three times. Despite their best efforts, unforeseen obstacles prevented them from making the journey. But through faith and divine intervention, their trip was finally made possible. With the support of the mission leaders, President Oliva Cowley and Sister Rebecca Cowley, they made their way to the Accra Ghana Temple.
On June 17, 2024, after 25 years of membership and waiting, Waji and Zenbech entered the temple and were sealed together. The day marked was filled with deep spiritual meaning. Mekonnen, their eldest son, reflected on the experience: “I saw how much the people have been blessed because of having the temple in their country.”
Waji, moved by the power of the temple, said, “The temple is like a compass—it directs us to the way of eternal life. It is my prayer that there will be a temple in Ethiopia one day.”
Sister Zenbech shared her profound feelings from their temple experience, saying, “I felt the love of Heavenly Father and the love of the people while I was in the temple.”
For both Waji and Zenbech, being sealed in the temple was not only the culmination of years of faith and sacrifice but also the fulfilment of a promise they had longed for.
Following their sealing, the family continued to grow spiritually. Their renewed dedication led them to serve in various callings in the Church, building their testimonies and further strengthening their faith. Their daughter Bemnet, inspired by her family’s experience and her own faith, began preparing to serve a mission, contributing to the ongoing legacy of commitment and service within the Waji family.
The Waji family’s journey serves as a powerful reminder that faith, patience, and perseverance in the gospel yield great blessings. Though Waji and Zenbech faced numerous obstacles, their dream of being sealed in the temple became a reality, demonstrating the power of the Lord’s timing. Their story offers hope to all those striving for the blessings of the temple, showing that through faith, anything is possible.

My six-year-old sister, Emily, eats catsup sandwiches. Just bread and catsup. It looks gross. She walks around the house, talking to herself too. Sometimes she even crawls around barking and howling like a wolf. Mom says she has a vivid imagination. I think she’s just crazy.
Usually I try ignoring Emily, but that’s hard to do because we share a bedroom. My half is neat, and my clothes are put away. Emily always leaves her bottom drawer open, and her bed is lumpy. There are stuffed animals all over the place, and she talks to them. I shut the door and find a quiet place to read. That’s what I was doing when Mom made her big announcement. “I have a new job,” she said. “It’s only on Saturdays. I’m going to work at the ceramic shop.”
“Wow!” Emily exclaimed. “Can I come?”
Mom looked right at me with her serious look. I felt my whole stomach flop over.
“Margaret,” she said, “I’ll need you to keep an eye on Emily. It’ll only be until your dad gets home at noon.”
I blinked hard, then nodded reluctantly. Sometimes I hate being eleven.
That first Saturday, Emily woke me up at eight o’clock. “Mom just left,” she reported. “Want to play checkers? Want to play dress up? You can be the witch, and I’ll be the princess.”
“No,” I muttered. “Definitely not.”
“OK, you can be the princess. I’ll be the witch.”
“Forget it,” I said a little louder. “Emily, I just have to watch you. No one said I have to act out fairy tales.”
She shrugged. “I’m going to eat my breakfast.”
Dana called me at ten o’clock. She wanted to go bike riding.
“I’d have to bring Emily,” I told her, but she still wanted to go.
I had a long talk with Emily. “No making animal noises,” I said. “And absolutely no talking to pretend people when you’re with me—got it?”
Emily nodded.
We rode down to the library and picked out some new books. Emily wanted one on unicorns, but I helped her find a beginning mystery instead. I was starting to feel a little better about things. Maybe I could straighten crazy Emily out.
At lunchtime, I made us all normal peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Emily ate hers without saying a word. In fact, she hardly said anything all morning. Then Dad came home, and I left to play basketball. I walked Emily to school on my way. She had play practice.
On the next Saturday, Dana wanted me to come over to her house. She was helping her mom make cookies for a bake sale. She didn’t mind about Emily. That’s because Dana’s my very best friend.
I told Emily not to talk to the cookies or try any other funny stuff. She nodded. Then I found a clean red shirt.
“Here, put this on,” I said. She didn’t move for a minute; then she pulled off her old green one real slow. She wore it every Saturday, and I hated that shirt. Next, we smoothed out her bed and picked up the room.
Emily was pretty quiet at Dana’s. Even Dana noticed. “Are you OK?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” Emily didn’t even wiggle her eyebrows.
I smiled at her. She was shaping up, after all.
On Friday Emily burst into the house after school. Our school play was that night, and she had a small part. Not me. I’d melt if they made me get on a stage in front of a million people. “You’re going, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Of course,” I told her. “Dana and I are going together.”
The play was about Alice in Wonderland. Emily was a giant green caterpillar. Everyone laughed when she shouted out her lines. Then they clapped real hard for her.
“Your sister is soooo funny,” Dana giggled. “You must be laughing all the time at home.”
I kind of squirmed around in my chair, and I felt sort of sick.
Afterward, Emily came running up with her long tail bumping behind her. “Did you like it?” Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were laughing.
“You did great,” I said.
“Do you really think so?” she asked.
I nodded, and she smiled bigger than ever. Then I did some thinking about Emily and me.
The next day was Saturday. Emily didn’t wake me up. She was eating cornflakes and watching cartoons when I checked on her.
“What are we doing today?” she asked. She didn’t seem too excited.
I smiled. “Guess!”
“Are we going to Dana’s?” she sighed.
“Nope,” I said, pleased with myself. “I’m going to take you to the puppet theater at the library if you want to go.”
Emily exploded. “Hip, hip, hurray!” Then she froze in her tracks. “I’ll go change,” she said.
I eyed the green shirt. “You’re fine,” I said, “but don’t forget to make your bed.”
After the puppet show, we invited Dana over to our house for lunch. Before we ate, Emily put on the whole puppet show all over again. Dana laughed until her face was as red as Mom’s pickled beets. I even laughed too.
Then we ate lunch. My catsup sandwich tasted kind of zingy, but it was really good.

I began seminary in 2017 in our Pare Ward of the Arue Tahiti Stake. I was in 9th grade in school at the time, and I was eager to be part of this youth group.
During my first year, I woke up before 5 am every weekday to get to seminary on time. I did my readings, and I was very attentive in class. I realized seminary contributed to deepening my relationship with God. Without Him, I would not have been able to successfully pass my school’s National Certificate Exam at the end of year 9.

Lukás cares for a sleepy little hamster named Kikina. He feeds his pet seeds, carrots, potatoes, apples, oranges, and nuts and keeps the hamster house clean so the small animal will stay healthy. When Kikina is awake, Lukás talks to him. He used to put Kikina in a toy car and pull him around the room. That was until Kikina jumped out of the car window one day. Lukás has decided the hamster doesn’t like riding in the car.

Fifty years ago, I knew a young man—even a priest—who held the authority of the Aaronic Priesthood. As the bishop, I was his quorum president. Robert stuttered and stammered, void of control. He was self-conscious, shy, fearful of himself and all others, and this impediment was devastating to him. Never did he fulfill an assignment; never would he look another in the eye; always he would gaze downward. Then one day, through a set of unusual circumstances, he accepted an assignment to perform the priestly responsibility to baptize another.

I sat next to Robert in the baptistry of the Salt Lake Tabernacle. He was dressed in immaculate white, prepared for the ordinance he was to perform. I leaned over and asked him how he felt. He gazed at the floor and stuttered almost uncontrollably that he felt terrible, terrible.

We both prayed fervently that he would be made equal to his task. Suddenly the clerk said, “Nancy Ann McArthur will now be baptized by Robert Williams, a priest.”

Robert left my side, stepped into the font, took little Nancy by the hand, and helped her into that water which cleanses human lives and provides a spiritual rebirth. He spoke the words, “Nancy Ann McArthur, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Not once did he stutter! Not once did he falter! A modern miracle had been witnessed. Robert then performed the baptismal ordinance for two or three other children in the same fashion.

In the dressing room, as I congratulated Robert, I expected to hear this same uninterrupted flow of speech. I was wrong. He gazed downward and stammered his reply of gratitude.

To each of you brethren this evening, I testify that when Robert acted in the authority of the Aaronic Priesthood, he spoke with power, with conviction, and with heavenly help.

While in St. George for a stake conference, President Snow received a revelation in which the Lord reaffirmed that Church members should pay an honest tithing. President Snow felt so strongly about this inspired direction that despite his advanced age he vigorously taught the commandment in the stakes all that summer. He also asked the Quorum of the Twelve to teach the doctrine of full tithing payment at every opportunity. Over time, the Saints responded, eventually saving the Church from a crushing burden of debt.

February 5Dear Elder Green,
My Primary teacher said that we should write to a missionary twice a month—that you need letters, and we’ll get blessings. She also said that she’d have an ice-cream party for anyone who wrote.
My name’s Jeffrey. I’m eleven. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. Mom thinks that writing to you is good, but my dad thinks that it’s dumb. He doesn’t belong to the Church, and he can’t understand why anybody would give up two years to knock on doors and bother people. Two years is a long time. I know that you’re coming home in a few months. What do you think?
Write back soon.
Sincerely,Jeffrey
February 19Dear Elder Green,
Wow! I never thought you’d write back so fast! Thanks for the cool stamp too. I’m starting a stamp collection with it.
I showed Dad your letter. At first he laughed as he read it, but he stopped laughing after a while. I especially liked what you said about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon.
Now Dad wants to know why we need more scriptures when we already have the Bible. I tried explaining, but got mixed up.
School is OK. I made an ashtray for Dad in art.
Sincerely,Jeffrey
March 5Dear Elder Green,
Thanks for the letter and stamps.
Your answer to Dad’s question was interesting. You’re right—how else were the ancient people in America going to get the gospel? And of course they’d write down what their prophets said!
Dad frowned when I showed him your letter, but when I asked him if it made sense, he nodded. Then he said it would make more sense if you could be sure the Book of Mormon was true. Otherwise, it is just a good story. I offered to lend him my Book of Mormon, but he said no.
School is still OK. I got an A in math, but social studies is awful! Who cares about the exports of some strange country, anyway?
Love,Jeffrey
March 19Dear Elder Green,
I couldn’t believe your package arrived with cool stamps and wasn’t for me! I thought it wasn’t fair for you to send something to Dad, but he gave me the stamps and was happy you sent him the Book of Mormon.
I was really surprised. Mom’s tried to give him one lots of times. He always said, “Don’t pressure me,” before—but this time he smiled! He read what you wrote on the inside cover. I wish I had a testimony like that. Dad didn’t know what you meant by saying Moroni 10:4 was the answer to how he could know that it was true, so I showed him where it was. When he read it, he got a funny look on his face and said something about “giving it a try.”
Social studies is still a pain. I work hard and don’t get anywhere. What’s the point?
Love,Jeffrey
April 2Dear Elder Green,
Don’t you get discouraged? You’ve been doing missionary work for almost two years and still haven’t had a single baptism? That’s hard! Why aren’t you sad?
I guess I’ll keep on trying, too, to work on social studies.
Dad says that’s what Nephi did—he kept trying even when it was hard. He read that last week and really liked it. I gave him your list of other scriptures to read in the Book of Mormon. He said that you were “pushy,” but he folded it up and is using it as a bookmark.
Love,Jeffrey
April 16Dear Elder Green,
Was it hard being transferred?
I don’t like changes much. I told Dad that. He said that change is hard sometimes, but that the four sons of Mosiah had to go different places in their mission, too, and the Lord stuck by them.
He also said some changes are really good, even if they’re hard. He didn’t say why he said that, though.
Love,Jeffrey
May 7Dear Elder Green,
Mom’s started planting the garden. I wanted to plant stuff too. When I showed my dad what I wanted to grow, he poured the seeds out into his hand, then said Alma had talked about planting seeds, and if they grew, they were good seeds.
I asked Dad if he was going to plant something too. He got a funny look on his face again and said he just might—but he didn’t even help us with the garden!
Love,Jeffrey
May 21Dear Elder Green,
I laughed at your letter. Dad smiled at the part where you said that good seeds are important but so is preparing the ground. Mom’s been rototilling and fertilizing to beat the band. You don’t just stick seeds into any old dirt and expect them to grow, she said.
I don’t understand what you meant about church meetings being a good soil-preparer. We don’t do gardening at church. We just listen to talks and sing songs and stuff. Dad nodded when he read it, though. He said he’s going to meetings with us next week!
Love,Jeffrey
June 4Dear Elder Green,
Two missionaries stopped by our house! Dad asked if Mom had sent them. They told him you did!
Dad let them in! They were really nice. They didn’t feel like strangers at all. They’ve been here three times already; once was for dinner. I can’t believe how much they ate!
They laugh sometimes, but other times they’re really serious. I told Dad that I want to be a missionary when I grow up. He said I’m doing a pretty good job already, and he went to church with us last week. It was great!
On his birthday, I gave Dad the ashtray I’d made him at school. He said he’d give it a place of honor on his desk—and store paperclips in it!
I know you’re coming home soon. I can’t wait to meet you!
Love,Jeffrey
June 18Dear Elder Green,
You’re coming home on the 27th, so this is the last letter I’ll write to you.
You sent Dad a letter, too, but I don’t know what it said. Dad took it upstairs to his bedroom and didn’t come down for a long time.
I know that you didn’t get to baptize anyone on your mission, but you taught lots of people, and that’s important too. See you soon.
Love,Jeffrey
June 20Dear Elder Green,
I’m glad that you’re returning from your mission on the 27th. Would you be available on the evening of June 29th? I’ve spoken to the bishop here, and I’d like you to be the one to perform my baptism.
Love,Jeffrey’s dad
P.S. Thank you.

Long years ago a severe drought struck the Salt Lake Valley. The commodities at the storehouse on Welfare Square had not been of their usual quality, nor were they found in abundance. Many products were missing, especially fresh fruit. As I was a young bishop, worrying about the needs of the many widows in my ward, my prayer one evening is especially sacred to me. I pleaded for these widows, who were among the finest women I knew in mortality and whose needs were simple and conservative, because they had no resources on which they might rely.
The next morning I received a call from a ward member, a proprietor of a produce business situated in our ward. “Bishop,” he said, “I would like to send a semitrailer filled with oranges, grapefruit, and bananas to the bishops’ storehouse to be given to those in need. Could you make arrangements?” Could I make arrangements! The storehouse was alerted, and then each bishop was telephoned and the entire shipment distributed. Bishop Jesse M. Drury, that beloved welfare pioneer and storekeeper, said he had never witnessed a day like it before. He described the occasion with one word: “Wonderful!”
The wife of that generous businessman is today a widow. I know the decision her husband and she made has brought her sweet memories and comforting peace to her soul.
I express my sincere appreciation to one and all who are mindful of the widow. To the thoughtful neighbors who invite a widow to dinner and to that royal army of noble women, the visiting teachers of the Relief Society, I add, may God bless you for your kindness and your love unfeigned toward her who reaches out and touches vanished hands and listens to voices forever stilled. The words of the Prophet Joseph Smith describe their mission: “I attended by request, the Female Relief Society, whose object is the relief of the poor, the destitute, the widow and the orphan, and for the exercise of all benevolent purposes.”
Thank you to thoughtful and caring bishops who ensure that no widow’s cupboard is empty, no house unwarmed, no life unblessed. I admire the ward leaders who invite the widows to all social activities, often providing a young Aaronic Priesthood lad to be a special escort for the occasion.
Frequently the need of the widow is not one of food or shelter but of feeling a part of ongoing events. President Bryan Richards of Salt Lake City, now serving as a mission president, brought to my office a sweet widow whose husband had passed away during a full-time mission they were serving. President Richards explained that her financial resources were adequate and that she desired to contribute to the Church’s General Missionary Fund the proceeds of two insurance policies on the life of her departed husband. I could not restrain my tears when she meekly advised me, “This is what I wish to do. It is what my missionary-minded husband would like.”
The gift was received and entered as a most substantial donation to missionary service. I saw the receipt made in her name, but I believe in my heart it was also recorded in heaven. I invited her and President Richards to follow me to the unoccupied First Presidency Council room in the Church Administration Building. The room is beautiful and peaceful. I asked this sweet widow to sit in the chair usually occupied by our church President. I felt he would not mind, for I knew his heart. As she sat ever so humbly in the large leather chair, she gripped each armrest with a hand and declared, “This is one of the happiest days of my life.” It was also such for President Richards and for me.
I never travel to work along busy Seventh East in Salt Lake City but what I see in my mind’s eye a thoughtful daughter, afflicted with arthritis and carrying in her hand a plate of warm food to her aged mother, who lived across the busy thoroughfare. She has now gone home to that mother who preceded her in passing. But her lesson was not lost on her daughters, who delight their widowed father by cleaning his house each week, inviting him to dinners in their homes, and sharing with him the laughter of good times together, leaving in that widower’s heart a prayer of gratitude for his daughters, the light of his life. Fathers experience loneliness as well as mothers.

The Lord is ever aware of our needs and eager to help. One sister relates how she prayed to Heavenly Father and was blessed by the power of the Atonement: “I had no one to turn to, no place to go, except on my knees. I prayed as I had never prayed before. I fasted faithfully, meaningfully, and often. I read and studied the scriptures from cover to cover for the first time in my life. … And he was there. He heard my humble pleadings. He put his arm of love around me. He forgave me of my sins and showed me a better way. I was amazed at the happiness, success, and opportunity that came into my life” (“After Divorce: Clearing the Hurdles,” Ensign, August 1985, 50).