As further evidence to help you understand the challenge my parents faced in raising our family, let me tell you about our family scripture reading. Each morning, my mother read the Book of Mormon to us during breakfast. During this time, my older brother, Dave, and I would sit quietly but irreverently. To be completely honest, we weren’t listening. We were reading the print on the cereal boxes.
Finally, one morning, I decided to square up with my mother. I exclaimed, “Mom, why are you doing this to us? Why are you reading the Book of Mormon every morning?” I then made a statement that I am embarrassed to admit to. In fact, I can’t believe I actually said it. I told her, “Mom, I am not listening!”
Her loving response was a defining moment in my life. She said, “Son, I was at a meeting where President Marion G. Romney taught about the blessings of scripture reading. During this meeting, I received a promise that if I would read the Book of Mormon to my children every day, I would not lose them.” She then looked me straight in the eyes and, with absolute determination, said, “And I will not lose you!”
Her words pierced my heart. Notwithstanding my imperfections, I was worth saving! She taught me the eternal truth that I am a son of a loving Heavenly Father. I learned that no matter what the circumstance, I was worth it. This was a perfect moment for an imperfect little boy.
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No Greater Joy Than to Know That They Know
Summary: Each morning at breakfast, the speaker’s mother read the Book of Mormon while he and his brother ignored her and read cereal boxes. One day he confronted her, admitting he was not listening. She replied that President Marion G. Romney had promised blessings if she read daily and declared, “I will not lose you!” Her determined love pierced his heart and taught him his divine worth.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
Book of Mormon
Children
Faith
Parenting
Scriptures
Testimony
Motivations
Summary: At a temple meeting before general conference, the speaker saw Thorpe Isaacson and President David O. McKay brought in wheelchairs, both physically diminished from their earlier strength. The moment impressed on him how much they would have loved to continue active service, but their season for many labors had passed. This experience deepened his sense of urgency to do the Lord’s work while time remains.
I would like to tell you just two more short stories. Each year at general conference time the President of the Church invites the General Authorities to meet with him and the other members of the First Presidency in the upper room of the temple. There he talks to us about the conference and other things, bears us again his magnificent testimony, and calls on some other people to speak to the group, and we have a delightful period of worship and association there together. At the last of these meetings attended by President McKay, we were all dressed and waiting in the room when they wheeled in two wheel chairs; one had in it Thorpe Isaacson, and the other had in it David O. McKay.
I had known Brother Isaacson for a long time, and he was a good friend of mine. I tried to shake hands with him, but he was paralyzed on the right side, so he shook with his left hand; and then, in response to my greeting, he made some sounds which sounded like “Ah” or “Uh” which were not understandable to me.
I sat about six feet away from President McKay. He did not attempt to rise out of his chair as he usually did, with all of his vigor and power; instead, he sat in his chair, and everything was deathly silent. Though I was only a short distance away, I could hear probably only one word out of every five or six spoken, but I knew from past association with him what he was trying to say.
I thought of these two great men, who had in their day both been powerful athletes; now, neither one of them could stand up and neither one of them could speak. What a thrill it would be for them to run up and down the street, jump over fences, knock on doors, bear their testimonies, do home teaching, and do the genealogical work and missionary work and all the other things the Lord would like to have us do! But in their cases, the time for that had passed.
That may be a little more impressive to me than it is for you because I have been around a little longer and may be a little closer to the end of the journey. Jeremiah pointed out that for each of us the summer would someday be past and the harvest ended, and maybe we would not have done all the things that we should have done (see Jeremiah 8:20). Because I have so many things left that I would like to get done, I feel a greater sense of urgency than most people do. I am in something of a hurry because there are so many things left to be done that I would like to do. I am not ready to be informed that this glorious second estate of mine has come to an end. There are a great number of things that I must get done before that time arrives. However, I would like to leave the idea with you that even though some of you are much younger, the time will surely arrive when you are at the end of your life. The time is going to come in every person’s case when this magnificent experience of a second estate will reach the finish mark.
I had known Brother Isaacson for a long time, and he was a good friend of mine. I tried to shake hands with him, but he was paralyzed on the right side, so he shook with his left hand; and then, in response to my greeting, he made some sounds which sounded like “Ah” or “Uh” which were not understandable to me.
I sat about six feet away from President McKay. He did not attempt to rise out of his chair as he usually did, with all of his vigor and power; instead, he sat in his chair, and everything was deathly silent. Though I was only a short distance away, I could hear probably only one word out of every five or six spoken, but I knew from past association with him what he was trying to say.
I thought of these two great men, who had in their day both been powerful athletes; now, neither one of them could stand up and neither one of them could speak. What a thrill it would be for them to run up and down the street, jump over fences, knock on doors, bear their testimonies, do home teaching, and do the genealogical work and missionary work and all the other things the Lord would like to have us do! But in their cases, the time for that had passed.
That may be a little more impressive to me than it is for you because I have been around a little longer and may be a little closer to the end of the journey. Jeremiah pointed out that for each of us the summer would someday be past and the harvest ended, and maybe we would not have done all the things that we should have done (see Jeremiah 8:20). Because I have so many things left that I would like to get done, I feel a greater sense of urgency than most people do. I am in something of a hurry because there are so many things left to be done that I would like to do. I am not ready to be informed that this glorious second estate of mine has come to an end. There are a great number of things that I must get done before that time arrives. However, I would like to leave the idea with you that even though some of you are much younger, the time will surely arrive when you are at the end of your life. The time is going to come in every person’s case when this magnificent experience of a second estate will reach the finish mark.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
Life’s Two Big Questions
Summary: Just before the speaker’s senior year of high school, his father died suddenly of a heart attack, leaving his mother a widow with seven children. After returning from the hospital, the family found a note on the father’s nightstand quoting Psalm 90:12. Years later, the death of the speaker’s young brother deepened his awareness of mortality and purpose.
One of those people most responsible for putting me on a fence post was my father—my hero. He was also the wisest man I’ve ever known.
Art DeMoss was a successful businessman—and is widely credited with pioneering direct response marketing of life insurance. He founded the National Liberty Corporation in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania—the first such company to sell life insurance without a traditional sales force. Instead, the company relied entirely on direct mail and newspaper and television advertising to sell policies.
I learned much from my father. For example, he taught me the importance of putting God first in my life by giving Him the first day of every week, the first part of every day, and the first dime of every dollar. He called this, in a simple little booklet he wrote, God’s Secret of Success.
On Labor Day weekend, 1979, just a few days before the start of my senior year in high school, my father dropped dead of a heart attack at age 53. My mother, just 40 years old, was suddenly widowed with seven children under the age of 22.
Shortly after we returned from the hospital that Saturday afternoon, my mother found a small piece of paper on my father’s nightstand.
In my mind I can still see—in his handwriting—the following words from the 90th chapter of Psalms: “So teach us to number our days, That we may present to You a heart of wisdom” (NASB, Psalm 90:12).
After my father died, I somehow believed that early death would pass over the rest of my family for a long time. But just seven years later, my 22-year-old brother David was killed in a car accident. In three months I’ll turn 50, meaning I’m nearly the age of my father when he died; and I’m more than twice the age of my brother when he died.
Losing a family member has a way of making one think about death—and about life. The Bible says, “You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away” (NASB, James 4:14).
As the Old Testament figure Job tried to grasp his own devastating loss and grief, he wrote these words: “Man’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months, and have set limits he cannot exceed” (NIV, Job 14:5).
Winston Churchill’s father died at age 39, and England’s future prime minister grew up also expecting to die young. In his first autobiography, the young Churchill credited his military exploits in India—and, in general, his fearless first decades—to his awareness of the ticking clock.
My own father’s death at age 53 circled that age in my mind—a red mark made darker and more certain by my brother’s sudden death only a few years later. I’m never so lost in living that I don’t hear the clock tick or have an eye on the calendar—not in a paranoid sense, but with a sense of purpose.
Art DeMoss was a successful businessman—and is widely credited with pioneering direct response marketing of life insurance. He founded the National Liberty Corporation in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania—the first such company to sell life insurance without a traditional sales force. Instead, the company relied entirely on direct mail and newspaper and television advertising to sell policies.
I learned much from my father. For example, he taught me the importance of putting God first in my life by giving Him the first day of every week, the first part of every day, and the first dime of every dollar. He called this, in a simple little booklet he wrote, God’s Secret of Success.
On Labor Day weekend, 1979, just a few days before the start of my senior year in high school, my father dropped dead of a heart attack at age 53. My mother, just 40 years old, was suddenly widowed with seven children under the age of 22.
Shortly after we returned from the hospital that Saturday afternoon, my mother found a small piece of paper on my father’s nightstand.
In my mind I can still see—in his handwriting—the following words from the 90th chapter of Psalms: “So teach us to number our days, That we may present to You a heart of wisdom” (NASB, Psalm 90:12).
After my father died, I somehow believed that early death would pass over the rest of my family for a long time. But just seven years later, my 22-year-old brother David was killed in a car accident. In three months I’ll turn 50, meaning I’m nearly the age of my father when he died; and I’m more than twice the age of my brother when he died.
Losing a family member has a way of making one think about death—and about life. The Bible says, “You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away” (NASB, James 4:14).
As the Old Testament figure Job tried to grasp his own devastating loss and grief, he wrote these words: “Man’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months, and have set limits he cannot exceed” (NIV, Job 14:5).
Winston Churchill’s father died at age 39, and England’s future prime minister grew up also expecting to die young. In his first autobiography, the young Churchill credited his military exploits in India—and, in general, his fearless first decades—to his awareness of the ticking clock.
My own father’s death at age 53 circled that age in my mind—a red mark made darker and more certain by my brother’s sudden death only a few years later. I’m never so lost in living that I don’t hear the clock tick or have an eye on the calendar—not in a paranoid sense, but with a sense of purpose.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Other
Safe at Home
Summary: The story describes Jana Morrell, a ten-year-old girl with spina bifida, and how her family includes her in everyday activities, like a backyard baseball game adapted to her needs. Her older siblings regularly help her with transportation, school, swimming lessons, and daily care, while also learning compassion and gratitude through their relationship with her. The family sees Jana not as a burden, but as someone who strengthens their bond and teaches them about love and service.
Jana Morrell is poised and ready. She inches toward home plate with a bat resting comfortably on her shoulder. She stares down the pitcher, who in this case happens to be her older sister Jodie. At first base, another sister, Jill, is waiting. In the outfield is Jana’s father and her older brother, Jason. Waiting on deck is Jana’s mom. Dinner has been served and eaten. Now it’s time for baseball.
Jana lets the first pitch go by. “Outside,” she says. Since there’s no umpire, they all take her word. Jodie winds up and delivers the next pitch, which Jana fouls off. The count is one ball and one strike, but in this game, it doesn’t even matter. No one keeps track of the count, and there is no striking out. You bat until you hit, which Jana intends to do.
When the next pitch is delivered, Jana makes contact and sends the ball rolling toward Jodie. Jana takes off for first base, going as fast as she can. Jodie gets to the ball and throws it to a waiting Jill. Jana beats the throw and is safe. She then leans back in her specially made cart and smiles. Instead of running to first base, Jana “pedaled” with her hands to get down the baseline.
Jana Morrell suffers from spina bifida, a condition that prevents the spinal area from developing and results in lifelong paralysis. But it hasn’t stopped ten-year-old Jana from becoming involved in the family’s activities. The same can be said about the family’s involvement with Jana, especially Jana’s two teenage sisters and her teenage brother.
“I know when we play baseball, it makes Jana feel good knowing she can do the things we do,” says Jill, 14. “We don’t play the games for the competition.” Obviously, who wins and loses isn’t the point of the Morrells’ backyard baseball games. Playing together as a family is.
“Sometimes I wonder how our family would be if Jana wasn’t handicapped. Would I be this close to everyone else?” asks 15-year-old Jodie. She stops and ponders her question for a minute, then says it doesn’t need answering because Jana is handicapped and it’s something they have all gotten used to.
The Morrells have also gained much comfort from the counsel of Elder Boyd K. Packer when he said, “Spirits which are beautiful and innocent may be temporally restrained by physical impediments. If healing does not come in mortal life, it will come thereafter. Just as the gorgeous monarch butterfly emerges from a chrysalis, so will spirits emerge” (Ensign, May 1991, p. 9).
“When Jana came home from the hospital, we felt a special close feeling between her and the rest of us. We had already decided as a family that even though Jana would not be able to do some things like other children, we were going to enjoy her a lot,” says Jodie. “She would always have care and love in our home.”
And outside the home too. Instead of going off with friends after school and hanging out with them, 16-year-old Jason spent his spring taking Jana to her swimming lessons. Just before her tenth birthday, Jason was right there when Jana got in the water without the use of her water wings, the flotation devices she placed on her arms to help keep her afloat. “It’s been great realizing how far she’s come with her swimming,” explains Jason.
Examples of the three oldest Morrell kids helping Jana are apparent, but it’s Jana who has also helped Jason, Jodie, and Jill better appreciate the plight of the handicapped.
“Whenever I see someone with a disability, I tend to get more sensitive about it because Jana is my sister. When people are saying things or making fun of people I tell them it’s not very nice to do,” says Jill. “A lot of the time they’ll ask ‘Why not?’ Because of my experiences with Jana, I always tell them to put themselves in the handicapped person’s position. When they think about what they’re doing, they usually stop.”
For the first month of Jana’s life, Jason, Jodie, and Jill didn’t see their new sister. When Jana was finally able to come home after a four-week stay at the hospital’s intensive-care unit, her brother and sisters were elated. “When we brought Jana home from the hospital, a special bond developed immediately between the other children and Jana,” says Sister Miriam Morrell, their mother. “I knew right then that Jana would never lack for care and love.”
By the time Jana began attending elementary school, Jill was in fifth grade. It became her responsibility to see that Jana got off the bus and into school safely in the morning, and then back on the bus at the end of the day. “Jill immediately gained a feeling for Jana’s needs as a student,” Sister Morrell continues. “She took the wheelchair, the walker, Jana, and her book bag to and from the bus each day. The school, as well as Jana, really depended on Jill.”
At home, Jason carries Jana up and down the stairs, and loads and unloads her wheelchair into the car. “Jana would not have made the progress she has without the help of the three older children,” Sister Morrell explains. “I would never have done as well as a mother without these dedicated teenagers who have taken their responsibility seriously.”
“Jana has taught me a lot about myself, and I feel good when I can help her,” Jason says. “Sometimes I’ll have a lot of homework or something, and I’ll end up giving up my study time to help Jana. That can be frustrating, but when I stop and think about what I’ve done I’m really glad I can help. And after the resurrection, we know that Jana will be able to use her legs. That really says something to me.”
And Jodie is quick to answer. “We often think about all the things we do for Jana, but it’s really the other way around.”
Jana lets the first pitch go by. “Outside,” she says. Since there’s no umpire, they all take her word. Jodie winds up and delivers the next pitch, which Jana fouls off. The count is one ball and one strike, but in this game, it doesn’t even matter. No one keeps track of the count, and there is no striking out. You bat until you hit, which Jana intends to do.
When the next pitch is delivered, Jana makes contact and sends the ball rolling toward Jodie. Jana takes off for first base, going as fast as she can. Jodie gets to the ball and throws it to a waiting Jill. Jana beats the throw and is safe. She then leans back in her specially made cart and smiles. Instead of running to first base, Jana “pedaled” with her hands to get down the baseline.
Jana Morrell suffers from spina bifida, a condition that prevents the spinal area from developing and results in lifelong paralysis. But it hasn’t stopped ten-year-old Jana from becoming involved in the family’s activities. The same can be said about the family’s involvement with Jana, especially Jana’s two teenage sisters and her teenage brother.
“I know when we play baseball, it makes Jana feel good knowing she can do the things we do,” says Jill, 14. “We don’t play the games for the competition.” Obviously, who wins and loses isn’t the point of the Morrells’ backyard baseball games. Playing together as a family is.
“Sometimes I wonder how our family would be if Jana wasn’t handicapped. Would I be this close to everyone else?” asks 15-year-old Jodie. She stops and ponders her question for a minute, then says it doesn’t need answering because Jana is handicapped and it’s something they have all gotten used to.
The Morrells have also gained much comfort from the counsel of Elder Boyd K. Packer when he said, “Spirits which are beautiful and innocent may be temporally restrained by physical impediments. If healing does not come in mortal life, it will come thereafter. Just as the gorgeous monarch butterfly emerges from a chrysalis, so will spirits emerge” (Ensign, May 1991, p. 9).
“When Jana came home from the hospital, we felt a special close feeling between her and the rest of us. We had already decided as a family that even though Jana would not be able to do some things like other children, we were going to enjoy her a lot,” says Jodie. “She would always have care and love in our home.”
And outside the home too. Instead of going off with friends after school and hanging out with them, 16-year-old Jason spent his spring taking Jana to her swimming lessons. Just before her tenth birthday, Jason was right there when Jana got in the water without the use of her water wings, the flotation devices she placed on her arms to help keep her afloat. “It’s been great realizing how far she’s come with her swimming,” explains Jason.
Examples of the three oldest Morrell kids helping Jana are apparent, but it’s Jana who has also helped Jason, Jodie, and Jill better appreciate the plight of the handicapped.
“Whenever I see someone with a disability, I tend to get more sensitive about it because Jana is my sister. When people are saying things or making fun of people I tell them it’s not very nice to do,” says Jill. “A lot of the time they’ll ask ‘Why not?’ Because of my experiences with Jana, I always tell them to put themselves in the handicapped person’s position. When they think about what they’re doing, they usually stop.”
For the first month of Jana’s life, Jason, Jodie, and Jill didn’t see their new sister. When Jana was finally able to come home after a four-week stay at the hospital’s intensive-care unit, her brother and sisters were elated. “When we brought Jana home from the hospital, a special bond developed immediately between the other children and Jana,” says Sister Miriam Morrell, their mother. “I knew right then that Jana would never lack for care and love.”
By the time Jana began attending elementary school, Jill was in fifth grade. It became her responsibility to see that Jana got off the bus and into school safely in the morning, and then back on the bus at the end of the day. “Jill immediately gained a feeling for Jana’s needs as a student,” Sister Morrell continues. “She took the wheelchair, the walker, Jana, and her book bag to and from the bus each day. The school, as well as Jana, really depended on Jill.”
At home, Jason carries Jana up and down the stairs, and loads and unloads her wheelchair into the car. “Jana would not have made the progress she has without the help of the three older children,” Sister Morrell explains. “I would never have done as well as a mother without these dedicated teenagers who have taken their responsibility seriously.”
“Jana has taught me a lot about myself, and I feel good when I can help her,” Jason says. “Sometimes I’ll have a lot of homework or something, and I’ll end up giving up my study time to help Jana. That can be frustrating, but when I stop and think about what I’ve done I’m really glad I can help. And after the resurrection, we know that Jana will be able to use her legs. That really says something to me.”
And Jodie is quick to answer. “We often think about all the things we do for Jana, but it’s really the other way around.”
Read more →
👤 Youth
👤 Children
Children
Disabilities
Kindness
Service
BYU: Building a Community of Trust and Respect
Summary: The speaker shares an experience from the life of President James E. Faust to illustrate respect. After Elder Faust presented a special temple recommend that a temple worker did not recognize, the worker refused him entry. Rather than identify himself and embarrass the man, Elder Faust politely left with his family.
When I think of what respect for others looks and feels like, I think of an experience from the life of President James E. Faust. On one occasion after he had been called as a General Authority, then Elder Faust, his wife, and two family members decided to attend a session at the Washington DC Temple. His son recalled that after they had arrived and entered the temple, his father
presented his recommend, which [was] a special one issued to the General Authorities and look[ed] somewhat different. The gentleman who was checking recommends did not know what it was and told my father he wouldn’t be able to enter the temple. Rather than embarrassing the man by telling him who he was, Dad politely excused himself and we all left. [Marcus G. Faust, quoted in James P. Bell, In the Strength of the Lord: The Life and Teachings of James E. Faust (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1999), 188]
I am moved by the deep respect that President Faust showed to the man at the recommend desk. President Faust acknowledged and respected him, letting him do his duty as he had been instructed. Because of that respect, President Faust would rather not go in the temple than cause the man embarrassment in front of others. So, as a fellow disciple, President Faust did the respectful thing: he thanked the man and left.
presented his recommend, which [was] a special one issued to the General Authorities and look[ed] somewhat different. The gentleman who was checking recommends did not know what it was and told my father he wouldn’t be able to enter the temple. Rather than embarrassing the man by telling him who he was, Dad politely excused himself and we all left. [Marcus G. Faust, quoted in James P. Bell, In the Strength of the Lord: The Life and Teachings of James E. Faust (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1999), 188]
I am moved by the deep respect that President Faust showed to the man at the recommend desk. President Faust acknowledged and respected him, letting him do his duty as he had been instructed. Because of that respect, President Faust would rather not go in the temple than cause the man embarrassment in front of others. So, as a fellow disciple, President Faust did the respectful thing: he thanked the man and left.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Other
👤 Parents
Comment
Summary: Confused over a difficult decision, a woman in Germany prayed and felt prompted to read the Liahona. Though reading was initially hard, the Spirit came, her faith was strengthened, and Elder Workman’s article helped her recognize the right decision.
One day, when I had to make a difficult decision, I was so confused that I didn’t know what to feel or think. I knelt down and desperately prayed to my Father in Heaven, when the thought came that I should read the Liahona. At first I had difficulty reading, but after a while I noticed that the Spirit was with me. The articles strengthened my faith. Elder H. Ross Workman (see July 2006 issue) especially gave me new strength to recognize my decision.Ingelore Penshorn, Germany
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👤 Church Members (General)
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
Agency and Accountability
Faith
Holy Ghost
Prayer
Revelation
The Perfect Match
Summary: Maggie, who loves matching things, sees Anna sitting alone and initially tries to match her with another girl who looks similar instead of playing with her. After her parents remind her that Jesus taught to love others and let actions match His teachings, Maggie rethinks her choice. The next day, she invites Anna to play, and Anna happily joins her friends.
Maggie loved things that matched. She wore her dark hair in two matching braids almost every day. Her purple backpack matched her purple notebook perfectly. And she carefully sorted her food into matching colors at lunchtime.
One day after lunch, Maggie walked out to the playground. She was about to join her friends when she saw someone sitting alone by the slide. It was a girl with long blonde hair.
Maggie sat down next to the girl. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Anna,” the girl whispered. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.
“No one will play with me,” Anna said, looking up sadly at Maggie.
Then Maggie saw that Anna had pretty green eyes. Maggie knew another girl who also had green eyes and blonde hair. The two girls would match perfectly!
“I know someone who can play with you!” Maggie told Anna.
“You do?” Anna asked with a hopeful smile.
“Yes! Sarah from my class.” Maggie pointed to a girl jumping rope. “See her over there? She would probably play with you.”
“Oh,” Anna said. Her face melted back into a frown.
Maggie didn’t know what to do next. “Well, I’ll see you later,” she said, standing up and walking over to her friends.
But Maggie couldn’t forget Anna’s sad eyes. That night at dinner, she told her family about what happened.
“She needed someone to play with?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Maggie said, “but she wouldn’t go ask Sarah to play, even though they both have blonde hair and green eyes.”
Dad looked over at Maggie. “Why didn’t you play with Anna?”
Maggie’s mouth fell open. “Because—because—Sarah and the girl matched!”
“Hmm,” Mom said as she wiped the baby’s face. “Do you remember what Jesus says about how we should treat other people?”
“We should love them?” Maggie said. Mom smiled and nodded.
“It doesn’t matter whether our body looks the same as someone else’s,” Dad said. “It doesn’t even really matter if they think the same way we do, or believe in the same things. The most important thing is that our actions match what Jesus taught.”
Maggie felt a warm tingling in her body, and she knew that Dad was right. “I’ll remember that,” she said.
The next day at recess, Maggie looked for Anna. She found her sitting alone by the sandbox.
“Hi,” Maggie said.
“Hello,” Anna said quietly.
“Do you want to come play with my friends and me?”
Now Anna looked up! Her green eyes sparkled brightly as a smile spread across her face.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really!” Maggie said, helping Anna stand.
This feels like a perfect match, Maggie thought as the two ran off to play.
One day after lunch, Maggie walked out to the playground. She was about to join her friends when she saw someone sitting alone by the slide. It was a girl with long blonde hair.
Maggie sat down next to the girl. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Anna,” the girl whispered. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.
“No one will play with me,” Anna said, looking up sadly at Maggie.
Then Maggie saw that Anna had pretty green eyes. Maggie knew another girl who also had green eyes and blonde hair. The two girls would match perfectly!
“I know someone who can play with you!” Maggie told Anna.
“You do?” Anna asked with a hopeful smile.
“Yes! Sarah from my class.” Maggie pointed to a girl jumping rope. “See her over there? She would probably play with you.”
“Oh,” Anna said. Her face melted back into a frown.
Maggie didn’t know what to do next. “Well, I’ll see you later,” she said, standing up and walking over to her friends.
But Maggie couldn’t forget Anna’s sad eyes. That night at dinner, she told her family about what happened.
“She needed someone to play with?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Maggie said, “but she wouldn’t go ask Sarah to play, even though they both have blonde hair and green eyes.”
Dad looked over at Maggie. “Why didn’t you play with Anna?”
Maggie’s mouth fell open. “Because—because—Sarah and the girl matched!”
“Hmm,” Mom said as she wiped the baby’s face. “Do you remember what Jesus says about how we should treat other people?”
“We should love them?” Maggie said. Mom smiled and nodded.
“It doesn’t matter whether our body looks the same as someone else’s,” Dad said. “It doesn’t even really matter if they think the same way we do, or believe in the same things. The most important thing is that our actions match what Jesus taught.”
Maggie felt a warm tingling in her body, and she knew that Dad was right. “I’ll remember that,” she said.
The next day at recess, Maggie looked for Anna. She found her sitting alone by the sandbox.
“Hi,” Maggie said.
“Hello,” Anna said quietly.
“Do you want to come play with my friends and me?”
Now Anna looked up! Her green eyes sparkled brightly as a smile spread across her face.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really!” Maggie said, helping Anna stand.
This feels like a perfect match, Maggie thought as the two ran off to play.
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
Children
Friendship
Jesus Christ
Judging Others
Kindness
Strands of Silver, Peaks of Steel
Summary: A group of Scouts and Explorers undertakes a steep, exhausting hike in the Wind River Mountains. Guides keep them moving, fellow hikers share loads, and the group persists despite fatigue. They finally reach Coyote Lake and feel the satisfaction that comes from hard work.
By late afternoon the next day, 30 backpacks formed a long, brightly colored line that moved slowly up toward the clouds. We were with Varsity Scouts from the South Cottonwood Third Ward, Salt Lake Cottonwood Stake, and Explorers from the Granger 22nd Ward, Salt Lake Granger Central Stake. We were hiking in the Wind River Mountains, which are close to the Tetons and to the camp.
The weight of the packs and the slipping rocks underfoot kept heads bent toward the trail. Sweat streamed down everyone’s face. All of us walked one step at a time on a path that had started steep and was getting even steeper.
“We’re getting high enough to meet the angel Gabriel,” Robert Beeler joked. The rest of the group didn’t do much talking. Behind lay the valley floor, where we had started that morning. It seemed incredibly distant. But even though everyone was exhausted, the guides kept us all moving.
“There wasn’t just one big push,” Ron Wood remembered later. “The whole day was the push. A lot of us wondered if we were ever going to make it.”
“My pack was way too heavy,” Steven Aslami admitted. “So the other guys divided up some of my things and carried them for me. Next time,” he laughed, “I’ll leave my stereo home.”
Rest stops were kept short, just long enough for everyone to catch their breath and for our guides, Richard Jones and Greg Longson, to check maps. Both Richard and Greg are returned missionaries. Like Bob Burk, they had come to the base as young Scouts. Like Bob, they had now returned for the summer to share what they’d learned.
“How much farther do we have to go?” Kelly Crowther asked.
“Not too far.” The guides had been saying the same thing since the first hour.
The trail continued into the alpine zone, the highest region of the wilderness. A red-tailed hawk drifted in the warm evening air. The mountain was beautiful, but later, when asked about the scenery on the first part of the hike, Doug Tolman summed up what most of us had experienced: “Scenery? I don’t know. All I saw were my feet.”
The incline became less steep, dropped down, and finally ended at Coyote Lake. It was evening, and the sun was going down. Fish were turning in the water. We took off our packs, drank from an icy stream, and built our campfires. As a precaution against marauding bears, we hung our food in trees. Soon the rich aroma of stew mixed with the fragrance of mountain air. There was a relaxed feeling of accomplishment. All of us felt it, the kind of feeling that comes only when you’ve worked hard for something. Sleep came easily that night.
The weight of the packs and the slipping rocks underfoot kept heads bent toward the trail. Sweat streamed down everyone’s face. All of us walked one step at a time on a path that had started steep and was getting even steeper.
“We’re getting high enough to meet the angel Gabriel,” Robert Beeler joked. The rest of the group didn’t do much talking. Behind lay the valley floor, where we had started that morning. It seemed incredibly distant. But even though everyone was exhausted, the guides kept us all moving.
“There wasn’t just one big push,” Ron Wood remembered later. “The whole day was the push. A lot of us wondered if we were ever going to make it.”
“My pack was way too heavy,” Steven Aslami admitted. “So the other guys divided up some of my things and carried them for me. Next time,” he laughed, “I’ll leave my stereo home.”
Rest stops were kept short, just long enough for everyone to catch their breath and for our guides, Richard Jones and Greg Longson, to check maps. Both Richard and Greg are returned missionaries. Like Bob Burk, they had come to the base as young Scouts. Like Bob, they had now returned for the summer to share what they’d learned.
“How much farther do we have to go?” Kelly Crowther asked.
“Not too far.” The guides had been saying the same thing since the first hour.
The trail continued into the alpine zone, the highest region of the wilderness. A red-tailed hawk drifted in the warm evening air. The mountain was beautiful, but later, when asked about the scenery on the first part of the hike, Doug Tolman summed up what most of us had experienced: “Scenery? I don’t know. All I saw were my feet.”
The incline became less steep, dropped down, and finally ended at Coyote Lake. It was evening, and the sun was going down. Fish were turning in the water. We took off our packs, drank from an icy stream, and built our campfires. As a precaution against marauding bears, we hung our food in trees. Soon the rich aroma of stew mixed with the fragrance of mountain air. There was a relaxed feeling of accomplishment. All of us felt it, the kind of feeling that comes only when you’ve worked hard for something. Sleep came easily that night.
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👤 Youth
👤 Young Adults
👤 Missionaries
Adversity
Creation
Endure to the End
Friendship
Service
Young Men
Always
Summary: The speaker recounts how a married son staying in the family basement found an old journal from the speaker’s younger years as a father. At dinner, the son read back entries describing intense work, earnest prayer, and efforts to live better. The experience led the speaker to reflect on how easily the cares of life can pull people away from the spiritual devotion they once had.
Time has also taught me something about the ebb and flow of our own powers and of how we may not notice that change. At Christmastime one of our married sons stayed with his wife and baby in our basement guest room. He found there a daily journal I had kept as a young father, not much older than many of you. I had forgotten it was there and what it contained. At dinner my son began to recount what he had read there of my experiences with him and his brothers and of my straining to live a little better, to have the Atonement work more fully in my life, and to become what I needed to be. He had read of my working intensely and praying earnestly into the early hours of the morning. As he spoke, I thought of some of you.
You may come upon your missionary journals put away in a closet in your home. You may read and feel a shock as you remember how hard you worked, how constantly you thought of the Savior and His sacrifice for you and for those you tried to meet and teach, and how fervently and often you prayed. The shock will come from realizing how much the cares of life have taken you from where you once were, so close to always remembering and always praying.
You may come upon your missionary journals put away in a closet in your home. You may read and feel a shock as you remember how hard you worked, how constantly you thought of the Savior and His sacrifice for you and for those you tried to meet and teach, and how fervently and often you prayed. The shock will come from realizing how much the cares of life have taken you from where you once were, so close to always remembering and always praying.
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👤 Parents
👤 Young Adults
👤 Children
👤 Other
Let Your Education Change You
Summary: The speaker recounts his mother’s long path from starting college, postponing her education for marriage, motherhood, and missionary service in Sweden, and then returning decades later to finish her BYU degree. Along the way, she overcame major obstacles, including outdated coursework and language requirements, even taking a Swedish class from her son. After graduating, her education proved providentially useful in later temple and Church leadership callings, illustrating how the Lord prepares people through both study and service.
My parents are remarkable people. My father, a BYU graduate, is not only an accomplished professional known for his leadership and compassion but also a passionate student of history and Swedish culture. His curiosity and enthusiasm evoked in me a passion for history and family history and for Sweden and its people. Wherever we lived as I was growing up—in Missouri, Sweden, New Jersey, and Boston—he helped us seek out what made those places unique, and he served the people with all his heart and mind.
My mother took a less conventional route to a university degree but never delayed her education. She is a voracious reader with an envious intellectual curiosity. She started at BYU studying graphic design but put her plans on hold when, after marrying my father, a job offer took them to St. Louis. My older sister’s arrival and the demands of my father’s burgeoning career delayed my mother’s ability to return to school, but she did not forget the admonition in her patriarchal blessing that she should finish a college degree. I came along two years later, and then two years after that came another sister.
Then, when my mother was twenty-six years old, with three children under the age of five and a fourth on the way, she and my father were called as mission leaders for a newly created mission in Göteborg, Sweden. (You didn’t know they called kids on missions, did you? And these kids had kids!) While my father, just twenty-nine, had not had time to forget Swedish after serving a proselyting mission to Sweden a few years before, my mother spoke no Swedish at all. During the following three years, however, she not only had a fifth child but also learned the language so that she could understand and communicate with the people she loved whom she had been called to serve. While she ministered to others, she and my father had outsized responsibilities to minister to a young family in the home.
Their willingness to serve and sacrifice left an unmistakable impression on me and my siblings. Indeed, I can say, like the sons of Helaman, that I learned from the service and example of my parents—and in the things of the Spirit, I cannot doubt that my mother (and father) “knew it”32 because of how they lived.
They returned from Sweden, had two more children (that is seven in total for anyone keeping score), and continued a full and rich life of service in the Church and in our home. Still, my mother’s patriarchal blessing haunted her. While she was the paragon of a lifelong learner—among other things, teaching early-morning seminary for years in St. Louis and Houston—why was it so important for her to finish her degree? As my younger siblings grew older and more independent, she made the bold decision to return to her studies and finish what she had started at BYU several decades, seven children, and at least eight interstate and international moves before.
But there were obstacles. The classes she had taken for her graphic design degree in the 1960s—hand lettering and drafting—had long since been replaced by new technologies. Instead, the degree in English literature stood out to her as something that might play to her superpower: boundless reading. She took the plunge, and class by class she clawed her way toward a degree.
But there were more obstacles. One of them was the Languages of Learning GE requirement. Calculus was not an obvious option, and she did not have the requisite number of French classes. Here the Lord intervened. Because of an initiative in the College of Humanities, I was approached to teach a summer Swedish literature class for returned missionaries that would fulfill the requirement and be open to returning students like my mother. I have only ever been asked to do this once, but it came at just the moment she happened to need it. That is right, my mother took a class from me (entirely in Swedish) more than twenty-five years after returning home from Sweden. (Just for the record, no, I did not call her “Mom” in class.) While federal law prohibits me from telling you the grade she received, let’s just say that she was impressive.
She finally finished her degree and graduated in 2009, more than forty years after having started at BYU. That in and of itself is an inspiring story, but what happened afterward serves to illustrate the important point we learned from section 88 in the Doctrine and Covenants. We rarely know how and where the Lord will use the character, habits, experiences, and education with which He has blessed us.
Within just a couple of years after my mother had taken that class, she and my father were called to serve in Sweden again, this time as temple president and matron of the Stockholm Sweden Temple. An important part of their responsibilities was to instruct those entering the temple for the first time as well as to speak in wards and branches throughout the temple district. Because of her education, my mother was ready to meet these challenges on day one of their mission. Writing papers in Swedish on Selma Lagerlöf and Ingmar Bergman paid off as she found herself writing sacrament meeting and fireside talks to give to the members in Sweden in their native language.
Shortly after returning home, she and my father were quite unexpectedly called into the office of the First Presidency, and my mother, Bonnie Lee Oscarson, was called as the fourteenth Young Women general president of the Church. There is little to prepare one for such a calling and responsibility, but my mother has said on numerous occasions that her experience reading, analyzing, and writing about American, British, and Scandinavian literature for classes was ideal training for the innumerable articles and talks she needed to write during her years in that calling. Her education prepared her to understand others; deal with change; analyze messy, unorganized information; make clear decisions; and receive inspiration. While she is quick to point out the myriad ways that her own abilities were clearly enhanced and enriched by the Spirit working through her, she would not have felt confidence in asking for that divine help had she not done her part.
My mother took a less conventional route to a university degree but never delayed her education. She is a voracious reader with an envious intellectual curiosity. She started at BYU studying graphic design but put her plans on hold when, after marrying my father, a job offer took them to St. Louis. My older sister’s arrival and the demands of my father’s burgeoning career delayed my mother’s ability to return to school, but she did not forget the admonition in her patriarchal blessing that she should finish a college degree. I came along two years later, and then two years after that came another sister.
Then, when my mother was twenty-six years old, with three children under the age of five and a fourth on the way, she and my father were called as mission leaders for a newly created mission in Göteborg, Sweden. (You didn’t know they called kids on missions, did you? And these kids had kids!) While my father, just twenty-nine, had not had time to forget Swedish after serving a proselyting mission to Sweden a few years before, my mother spoke no Swedish at all. During the following three years, however, she not only had a fifth child but also learned the language so that she could understand and communicate with the people she loved whom she had been called to serve. While she ministered to others, she and my father had outsized responsibilities to minister to a young family in the home.
Their willingness to serve and sacrifice left an unmistakable impression on me and my siblings. Indeed, I can say, like the sons of Helaman, that I learned from the service and example of my parents—and in the things of the Spirit, I cannot doubt that my mother (and father) “knew it”32 because of how they lived.
They returned from Sweden, had two more children (that is seven in total for anyone keeping score), and continued a full and rich life of service in the Church and in our home. Still, my mother’s patriarchal blessing haunted her. While she was the paragon of a lifelong learner—among other things, teaching early-morning seminary for years in St. Louis and Houston—why was it so important for her to finish her degree? As my younger siblings grew older and more independent, she made the bold decision to return to her studies and finish what she had started at BYU several decades, seven children, and at least eight interstate and international moves before.
But there were obstacles. The classes she had taken for her graphic design degree in the 1960s—hand lettering and drafting—had long since been replaced by new technologies. Instead, the degree in English literature stood out to her as something that might play to her superpower: boundless reading. She took the plunge, and class by class she clawed her way toward a degree.
But there were more obstacles. One of them was the Languages of Learning GE requirement. Calculus was not an obvious option, and she did not have the requisite number of French classes. Here the Lord intervened. Because of an initiative in the College of Humanities, I was approached to teach a summer Swedish literature class for returned missionaries that would fulfill the requirement and be open to returning students like my mother. I have only ever been asked to do this once, but it came at just the moment she happened to need it. That is right, my mother took a class from me (entirely in Swedish) more than twenty-five years after returning home from Sweden. (Just for the record, no, I did not call her “Mom” in class.) While federal law prohibits me from telling you the grade she received, let’s just say that she was impressive.
She finally finished her degree and graduated in 2009, more than forty years after having started at BYU. That in and of itself is an inspiring story, but what happened afterward serves to illustrate the important point we learned from section 88 in the Doctrine and Covenants. We rarely know how and where the Lord will use the character, habits, experiences, and education with which He has blessed us.
Within just a couple of years after my mother had taken that class, she and my father were called to serve in Sweden again, this time as temple president and matron of the Stockholm Sweden Temple. An important part of their responsibilities was to instruct those entering the temple for the first time as well as to speak in wards and branches throughout the temple district. Because of her education, my mother was ready to meet these challenges on day one of their mission. Writing papers in Swedish on Selma Lagerlöf and Ingmar Bergman paid off as she found herself writing sacrament meeting and fireside talks to give to the members in Sweden in their native language.
Shortly after returning home, she and my father were quite unexpectedly called into the office of the First Presidency, and my mother, Bonnie Lee Oscarson, was called as the fourteenth Young Women general president of the Church. There is little to prepare one for such a calling and responsibility, but my mother has said on numerous occasions that her experience reading, analyzing, and writing about American, British, and Scandinavian literature for classes was ideal training for the innumerable articles and talks she needed to write during her years in that calling. Her education prepared her to understand others; deal with change; analyze messy, unorganized information; make clear decisions; and receive inspiration. While she is quick to point out the myriad ways that her own abilities were clearly enhanced and enriched by the Spirit working through her, she would not have felt confidence in asking for that divine help had she not done her part.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Forgive
Summary: Guy de Maupassant tells of Hauchecorne, a peasant who picks up a piece of string and is falsely accused of stealing a purse. Although the purse is later found and he is cleared, he becomes obsessed with the injustice and refuses to let it go. Consumed by bitterness, he grows ill and dies, murmuring about the piece of string.
Guy de Maupassant, the French writer, tells the story of a peasant named Hauchecorne. While walking through the public square, he caught sight of a piece of string lying on the cobblestones. He picked it up and put it in his pocket.
Later in the day the loss of a purse was reported. Hauchecorne was arrested and taken before the mayor. He protested his innocence, showing that it was only a piece of string that he had picked up. But he was not believed and was laughed at.
The next day the purse was found, and Hauchecorne was absolved [cleared] of any wrongdoing. But, resentful of the false accusation, he became embittered and would not let the matter die. Unwilling to forgive and forget, he thought and talked of little else. Everyone he met had to be told of the injustice. Obsessed with his grievance, he became ill and died. In his death struggles, he repeatedly murmured, “A piece of string, a piece of string.” (See “The Piece of String,” in The Works of Guy de Maupassant [n.d.], 34–38.)
Later in the day the loss of a purse was reported. Hauchecorne was arrested and taken before the mayor. He protested his innocence, showing that it was only a piece of string that he had picked up. But he was not believed and was laughed at.
The next day the purse was found, and Hauchecorne was absolved [cleared] of any wrongdoing. But, resentful of the false accusation, he became embittered and would not let the matter die. Unwilling to forgive and forget, he thought and talked of little else. Everyone he met had to be told of the injustice. Obsessed with his grievance, he became ill and died. In his death struggles, he repeatedly murmured, “A piece of string, a piece of string.” (See “The Piece of String,” in The Works of Guy de Maupassant [n.d.], 34–38.)
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👤 Other
Adversity
Death
Forgiveness
Judging Others
Mental Health
We Are All Enlisted
Summary: The speaker recalls two moments when local Church leaders made clear that his wife was exceptionally capable. First, a bishop told him that a key reason for his calling was that he had “married well.” Later, when childcare prevented both of them from attending a stake meeting, the stake president immediately chose for Sister Eyring to attend.
I am always grateful to follow Sister Eyring when we speak to you at devotional. In baseball terms, she is the leadoff hitter, the top of the lineup. I fully realized that only when we had been married for several years. I was serving in a university ward bishopric. The bishop, Garth Hanson, was one of my professors. I assumed that he had chosen me for my performance in his class.
But Bishop Hanson soon revealed a key reason for calling me. During a bishopric meeting, he made the statement, “You married well.” Taking that as a compliment, I proudly said, “Thank you.” He looked at me solemnly and said, “No, you really married well.”
I was reminded of that in a similar way several years later when we were living in Massachusetts. I was serving as a high councilor in the Nashua New Hampshire Stake, and Sister Eyring, still in her twenties, was the stake Young Women president. Once, when the full stake leadership was meeting on a weekday night, she and I were unable to get a babysitter for our three young children.
I called the stake president, Ned Wheeler, and asked which of us should attend the meeting. He emphatically replied, “Oh, send your wife!” That’s about the size of it, and I’m grateful.
But Bishop Hanson soon revealed a key reason for calling me. During a bishopric meeting, he made the statement, “You married well.” Taking that as a compliment, I proudly said, “Thank you.” He looked at me solemnly and said, “No, you really married well.”
I was reminded of that in a similar way several years later when we were living in Massachusetts. I was serving as a high councilor in the Nashua New Hampshire Stake, and Sister Eyring, still in her twenties, was the stake Young Women president. Once, when the full stake leadership was meeting on a weekday night, she and I were unable to get a babysitter for our three young children.
I called the stake president, Ned Wheeler, and asked which of us should attend the meeting. He emphatically replied, “Oh, send your wife!” That’s about the size of it, and I’m grateful.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Parents
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Other
Summary: A boy anticipated receiving the priesthood but worried about being an example to his younger brother. He realized Jesus Christ, his Older Brother, is the perfect example to follow. At 16, he was ordained a priest and later ordained his brother a deacon, offering a blessing guided by inspired words.
All the years I was in Primary, I dreamed of receiving the priesthood. But by the time I was about to turn 12, I had become a bit anxious about it. I wasn’t nervous about priesthood service; what seemed challenging was setting an example.
As time went on, I especially felt a responsibility to be an example for my younger brother. When my brother was preparing to receive the Aaronic Priesthood, I had a hard time accepting the fact that I had to set an example for him. Why didn’t I have an older brother who could be an example for me? Then it dawned on me. I do have an Older Brother who is a perfect example—Jesus Christ. I could follow His example!
When I turned 16, I was ordained a priest. Then my brother turned 12, and I was asked to ordain him a deacon. I was nervous, especially about giving him a blessing as part of the ordination. But the words came to me, and I knew exactly what to say: “I bless you to be able to follow the example of your Older Brother, Jesus Christ.”
Yves P., Cergy, France
As time went on, I especially felt a responsibility to be an example for my younger brother. When my brother was preparing to receive the Aaronic Priesthood, I had a hard time accepting the fact that I had to set an example for him. Why didn’t I have an older brother who could be an example for me? Then it dawned on me. I do have an Older Brother who is a perfect example—Jesus Christ. I could follow His example!
When I turned 16, I was ordained a priest. Then my brother turned 12, and I was asked to ordain him a deacon. I was nervous, especially about giving him a blessing as part of the ordination. But the words came to me, and I knew exactly what to say: “I bless you to be able to follow the example of your Older Brother, Jesus Christ.”
Yves P., Cergy, France
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👤 Youth
👤 Children
👤 Jesus Christ
Children
Family
Jesus Christ
Priesthood
Priesthood Blessing
Young Men
A Challenge Just for You
Summary: Tyler, a seven-year-old who stutters, wants to share his testimony but fears being mocked. After talking with his mother about prophets who struggled with speech and the importance of listening with the Spirit, he decides to bear his testimony. At the next fast and testimony meeting, he shares a brief testimony and no one laughs. His mother praises him, and he feels the Spirit confirm his courage.
Tyler watched as some of his Primary friends went to the front of the chapel. It was fast and testimony meeting. Every month, his friends shared their testimonies in front of the whole ward. Even little Sunbeams and CTR five-year-olds did it. Tyler squirmed in his seat. He wanted to share his testimony, too, but he was afraid that everyone would make fun of him.
Tyler had been in speech therapy since he was four years old. At first, he had worked on sounds that he’d never been able to make. Slowly he became really good at them. But now that Tyler was seven, he had a different speech problem. It seemed that when he talked, no one listened. He wanted everyone to hear what he had to say, so he kept starting over. His speech teacher called it “stuttering.” Some of the older kids on the school bus called him “stupid.” Tyler knew that he could not talk as well as the other kids his age. He also knew that he wasn’t stupid. Still, being called names hurt his feelings.
“Why don’t you say your testimony?” Tyler’s little sister, Michelle, asked loudly as he sat hunched over on the bench with his family.
Tyler knew that his face was turning red. “Don’t worry about me,” he hissed at her.
Mom leaned over and whispered to Michelle, “Tyler will share his testimony when he’s ready.”
After church, Tyler found his mother studying her Primary lesson at the kitchen table. He had waited until he could talk to her alone. “I can’t say my testimony because I stutter,” he blurted out to her.
She looked up from her lesson manual and smiled at him. “Everyone has challenges in their lives to work on. This one is just for you.”
Tyler looked down. Tiny tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. “But, Mom, no one else stutters.”
His mother was very quiet. Tyler looked up at her and thought he saw tears in her eyes, too. Finally she said, “No one else in our family stutters, but even some grown men have speech problems. Even some of the Lord’s prophets were afraid to share their testimonies because of their speech problems. We don’t know what we would call their problem today; the scriptures describe it as being ‘slow of speech.’”*
“Grown men? Even prophets had trouble talking?”
His mother smiled at Tyler’s excitement and nodded. “In the scriptures, there are two prophets that I can think of who were worried about sharing the gospel because of their speech. They both learned to follow the counsel of the Lord and overcame their fear of speaking. They did great things for the Lord.”
Tyler’s eyes twinkled with joy. “Who were they?”
“Well, one of them was Moses.”
“Moses!” Tyler exclaimed. “He was a great prophet. He led the children of Israel to the promised land. But I thought his brother, Aaron, did all the talking.”
“Very good,” Mom said. “I can tell that you were listening in family home evening. That’s right—Aaron did talk at first. But Moses gradually overcame his fear and did a lot of the talking himself.”
“I didn’t know that,” Tyler said. “Who was the other prophet?”
“You might not have heard of him,” Mom told him. “His name was Enoch. He lived before Noah and the flood.”
“No, I haven’t heard of him. What did he do?”
“He taught his people the gospel.”
“What’s so special about that?” Tyler wanted to know. “All the prophets do that.”
Mom nodded. “Yes, but with Enoch, the difference was that his people listened.”
“To a prophet who couldn’t talk very well?”
“Absolutely. They listened to him so well that their city of Zion was translated, or taken up to heaven to be with Heavenly Father. The scriptures say that they were so righteous that the Lord couldn’t keep them from His presence, and He took them to Himself.”
“The people really didn’t laugh at Enoch, did they?”
Mom closed her manual and folded her arms on top of it. “Tyler, when people listen with the Spirit of the Lord, they listen to what you say, not how you say it.”
Tyler traced the pattern on the tablecloth with his finger as he thought about what Mom had said.
“You know, Tyler,” she continued, “there are General Authorities today who come from different parts of the world. Often they don’t speak English as well as they would like to when they speak at general conference. But every time I listen to them, I have a warm feeling inside. I know that what they’re saying is true.”
“I bet some people would make fun of them, too.” Tyler frowned.
Mom nodded. “I think you’re right. Some people probably do. But if they do, they’re only hurting themselves. They’re missing out on a wonderful spiritual experience.”
Tyler was quiet as this new thought went through his mind. “Thanks, Mom. That helps a lot.”
When the next fast and testimony meeting came, Tyler was ready. He didn’t care if some of the other children laughed. He was going to bear his testimony. He had wanted to do it for a long time, and now he wasn’t going to let other people’s rudeness stop him.
To his surprise, no one laughed. No one even snickered or pointed. Tyler spoke to the whole ward about what was in his heart, what he had felt the Spirit testify was true. It wasn’t a long testimony like adults sometimes give, but it was his testimony.
When Tyler returned to his seat, Mom leaned over. “That was one of the most beautiful testimonies I’ve ever heard. Thanks, Tyler.”
The warm feeling inside of Tyler grew. He knew that it was the Spirit of the Lord making him feel good. All he could think of to answer his mom was, “Thank you, too, Mom.”
Tyler had been in speech therapy since he was four years old. At first, he had worked on sounds that he’d never been able to make. Slowly he became really good at them. But now that Tyler was seven, he had a different speech problem. It seemed that when he talked, no one listened. He wanted everyone to hear what he had to say, so he kept starting over. His speech teacher called it “stuttering.” Some of the older kids on the school bus called him “stupid.” Tyler knew that he could not talk as well as the other kids his age. He also knew that he wasn’t stupid. Still, being called names hurt his feelings.
“Why don’t you say your testimony?” Tyler’s little sister, Michelle, asked loudly as he sat hunched over on the bench with his family.
Tyler knew that his face was turning red. “Don’t worry about me,” he hissed at her.
Mom leaned over and whispered to Michelle, “Tyler will share his testimony when he’s ready.”
After church, Tyler found his mother studying her Primary lesson at the kitchen table. He had waited until he could talk to her alone. “I can’t say my testimony because I stutter,” he blurted out to her.
She looked up from her lesson manual and smiled at him. “Everyone has challenges in their lives to work on. This one is just for you.”
Tyler looked down. Tiny tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. “But, Mom, no one else stutters.”
His mother was very quiet. Tyler looked up at her and thought he saw tears in her eyes, too. Finally she said, “No one else in our family stutters, but even some grown men have speech problems. Even some of the Lord’s prophets were afraid to share their testimonies because of their speech problems. We don’t know what we would call their problem today; the scriptures describe it as being ‘slow of speech.’”*
“Grown men? Even prophets had trouble talking?”
His mother smiled at Tyler’s excitement and nodded. “In the scriptures, there are two prophets that I can think of who were worried about sharing the gospel because of their speech. They both learned to follow the counsel of the Lord and overcame their fear of speaking. They did great things for the Lord.”
Tyler’s eyes twinkled with joy. “Who were they?”
“Well, one of them was Moses.”
“Moses!” Tyler exclaimed. “He was a great prophet. He led the children of Israel to the promised land. But I thought his brother, Aaron, did all the talking.”
“Very good,” Mom said. “I can tell that you were listening in family home evening. That’s right—Aaron did talk at first. But Moses gradually overcame his fear and did a lot of the talking himself.”
“I didn’t know that,” Tyler said. “Who was the other prophet?”
“You might not have heard of him,” Mom told him. “His name was Enoch. He lived before Noah and the flood.”
“No, I haven’t heard of him. What did he do?”
“He taught his people the gospel.”
“What’s so special about that?” Tyler wanted to know. “All the prophets do that.”
Mom nodded. “Yes, but with Enoch, the difference was that his people listened.”
“To a prophet who couldn’t talk very well?”
“Absolutely. They listened to him so well that their city of Zion was translated, or taken up to heaven to be with Heavenly Father. The scriptures say that they were so righteous that the Lord couldn’t keep them from His presence, and He took them to Himself.”
“The people really didn’t laugh at Enoch, did they?”
Mom closed her manual and folded her arms on top of it. “Tyler, when people listen with the Spirit of the Lord, they listen to what you say, not how you say it.”
Tyler traced the pattern on the tablecloth with his finger as he thought about what Mom had said.
“You know, Tyler,” she continued, “there are General Authorities today who come from different parts of the world. Often they don’t speak English as well as they would like to when they speak at general conference. But every time I listen to them, I have a warm feeling inside. I know that what they’re saying is true.”
“I bet some people would make fun of them, too.” Tyler frowned.
Mom nodded. “I think you’re right. Some people probably do. But if they do, they’re only hurting themselves. They’re missing out on a wonderful spiritual experience.”
Tyler was quiet as this new thought went through his mind. “Thanks, Mom. That helps a lot.”
When the next fast and testimony meeting came, Tyler was ready. He didn’t care if some of the other children laughed. He was going to bear his testimony. He had wanted to do it for a long time, and now he wasn’t going to let other people’s rudeness stop him.
To his surprise, no one laughed. No one even snickered or pointed. Tyler spoke to the whole ward about what was in his heart, what he had felt the Spirit testify was true. It wasn’t a long testimony like adults sometimes give, but it was his testimony.
When Tyler returned to his seat, Mom leaned over. “That was one of the most beautiful testimonies I’ve ever heard. Thanks, Tyler.”
The warm feeling inside of Tyler grew. He knew that it was the Spirit of the Lord making him feel good. All he could think of to answer his mom was, “Thank you, too, Mom.”
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
Children
Courage
Disabilities
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Family
Family Home Evening
Holy Ghost
Parenting
Sacrament Meeting
Testimony
He Lives
Summary: The speaker initially struggled to understand why they needed a personal Savior, even after gaining a testimony that the Church was true. Years later, during a painful crisis, prayers and the visit of home teachers led to a powerful spiritual experience in which the speaker felt the Savior’s love and guidance personally.
Through that experience, the speaker learned that Jesus Christ knows each person individually and offers help as we exercise faith in Him. The story concludes with a testimony that the Savior lives and is always there to help, along with the lesson that we must always pray.
One day we had a special devotional about the Savior as part of our early-morning seminary class. The girl who was conducting bore her testimony of Christ, then asked each of us to share our feelings. Our teacher, Brother Pratt, added his testimony and said we each needed to know that Christ died for us individually.
As I listened to the others bear their testimonies, it occurred to me that I wasn’t really sure I had a testimony of the Savior. I had always attended church and seminary classes. And I thought that Jesus Christ was Heavenly Father’s Son and an example to follow. But I didn’t really know him to be my Savior—someone essential to my salvation.
I managed to say a few words in seminary that morning. And then I spent the next several days pondering over the experience and praying to know for myself. I received a warm feeling that the Church was true and that I should live its teachings. I felt good about that answer and decided that having a basic testimony of the gospel and living the standards of the Church would be enough. But I still didn’t understand the need for a Savior.
Then, several years later, after I had moved from home, I faced a serious crisis that left me with deep emotional and spiritual pain. Without the necessary faith in Christ to guide me, I felt lost and alone. I had stopped praying sometime earlier and had just recently decided that I would no longer go to church.
Just at that point in my life, my home teachers, Dan and Terry, came by. I was a little embarrassed because I hadn’t been to church that day and had no good excuse for my absence. The Spirit told them that something was seriously wrong, so they persisted in presenting a lesson that seemed to be especially for me. They visited with me for a while, and when it was time for them to go, they offered a powerful prayer. The Spirit lingered after them for a short time, and I felt more hopeful than I had in a long time.
I wanted that Spirit to remain. I gathered up the remnants of my faith and offered a prayer. Because I hadn’t been praying for a while, I had no real hope or expectation of an answer. But as I knelt and prayed, a black cloud lifted, and I felt an overpowering warmth come into my heart. Complete love and understanding filled the room. I was surprised at the depth and strength of the Savior’s love—how well he knew me!
There was no room for misunderstanding or doubt as he lovingly empathized with my challenges. All of a sudden, words came into my mind, telling me where I could improve. And the Savior promised me all the help I would need. I learned that there is indeed a loving Heavenly Father and a Savior, Jesus Christ, and that they know each of us as individuals. I also learned that they will give us the help we need as we extend our faith in them. And I knew that, no matter what, we must always pray.
Although I still had problems to overcome, I knew the Savior was there, ready to help. I have never felt completely alone with my problems since. I can now say, along with the hymn, “I know that my Redeemer lives.” And I am grateful.
As I listened to the others bear their testimonies, it occurred to me that I wasn’t really sure I had a testimony of the Savior. I had always attended church and seminary classes. And I thought that Jesus Christ was Heavenly Father’s Son and an example to follow. But I didn’t really know him to be my Savior—someone essential to my salvation.
I managed to say a few words in seminary that morning. And then I spent the next several days pondering over the experience and praying to know for myself. I received a warm feeling that the Church was true and that I should live its teachings. I felt good about that answer and decided that having a basic testimony of the gospel and living the standards of the Church would be enough. But I still didn’t understand the need for a Savior.
Then, several years later, after I had moved from home, I faced a serious crisis that left me with deep emotional and spiritual pain. Without the necessary faith in Christ to guide me, I felt lost and alone. I had stopped praying sometime earlier and had just recently decided that I would no longer go to church.
Just at that point in my life, my home teachers, Dan and Terry, came by. I was a little embarrassed because I hadn’t been to church that day and had no good excuse for my absence. The Spirit told them that something was seriously wrong, so they persisted in presenting a lesson that seemed to be especially for me. They visited with me for a while, and when it was time for them to go, they offered a powerful prayer. The Spirit lingered after them for a short time, and I felt more hopeful than I had in a long time.
I wanted that Spirit to remain. I gathered up the remnants of my faith and offered a prayer. Because I hadn’t been praying for a while, I had no real hope or expectation of an answer. But as I knelt and prayed, a black cloud lifted, and I felt an overpowering warmth come into my heart. Complete love and understanding filled the room. I was surprised at the depth and strength of the Savior’s love—how well he knew me!
There was no room for misunderstanding or doubt as he lovingly empathized with my challenges. All of a sudden, words came into my mind, telling me where I could improve. And the Savior promised me all the help I would need. I learned that there is indeed a loving Heavenly Father and a Savior, Jesus Christ, and that they know each of us as individuals. I also learned that they will give us the help we need as we extend our faith in them. And I knew that, no matter what, we must always pray.
Although I still had problems to overcome, I knew the Savior was there, ready to help. I have never felt completely alone with my problems since. I can now say, along with the hymn, “I know that my Redeemer lives.” And I am grateful.
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👤 Youth
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Atonement of Jesus Christ
Doubt
Faith
Holy Ghost
Jesus Christ
Prayer
Revelation
Teaching the Gospel
Testimony
Jesus Christ Can Transform Your BYU Experience
Summary: During a close road football game, the opposing team’s fans stormed the field before and after the final play. As angry fans rushed toward Coach Kalani Sitake and jeered at him, he calmly invited them to take selfies with him. His humble response immediately changed the mood and diffused a potentially dangerous situation.
A couple of years ago, in a tightly contested football game that came down to the last play on a rival team’s home field, Coach Sitake quietly did something that speaks to his character. Before the game ended, the opposing team prematurely stormed the field, only to be told by game officials to get back off the field so the final play could take place. The final play nearly swung the game in BYU’s favor but fell just short.
As the home-team student section stormed the field once again, many of the fans were charged with an emotion that I call “athletic-induced anger.” The situation became somewhat dangerous for players and coaches who found themselves in a wave of charging fans. As opposing fans approached Kalani to scream and jeer in his face, he invited them to take selfie photos with him. This small, humble act in a moment of high emotion instantly melted away the anger. Kalani’s reaction to the incident neutralized the entire situation. Rather than demeaning our coach, opposing fans swarmed him to take selfies. BYU runs deep for Kalani Sitake. Cougar Nation is thankful Kalani is with us!
As the home-team student section stormed the field once again, many of the fans were charged with an emotion that I call “athletic-induced anger.” The situation became somewhat dangerous for players and coaches who found themselves in a wave of charging fans. As opposing fans approached Kalani to scream and jeer in his face, he invited them to take selfie photos with him. This small, humble act in a moment of high emotion instantly melted away the anger. Kalani’s reaction to the incident neutralized the entire situation. Rather than demeaning our coach, opposing fans swarmed him to take selfies. BYU runs deep for Kalani Sitake. Cougar Nation is thankful Kalani is with us!
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👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Youth
👤 Other
Charity
Humility
Kindness
Love
Peace
Unity
Brigitte, Twentieth-Century Pioneer(Part 1)
Summary: During a bombing, Brigitte remembered being terrified in the shelter. A neighbor remarked on Oma's strong faith, and Brigitte crawled into her grandmother's lap. She stopped crying and felt comforted.
Shuddering, Brigitte remembered the bombs hitting the top floor of their apartment building before they could escape to the shelter. She remembered burning mattresses being flung out of windows. And she remembered being pulled along to the bunkers by her father’s strong hand as they ran through the street in terror, the upper part of it engulfed in flames. That time there had been no warning.
As though reading her mind, Papa said, “Gitte, remember the time Mama covered you with blankets in the shelter to try to block out the noise and screaming? You had been crying. I know that you were very much afraid. Then you heard one of our neighbors say, ‘I want to sit by Mrs. Baier—she has such strong faith, nothing ever happens to her.’ You pushed the blanket off and looked at Oma (Grandmother), who was sitting quietly. Do you remember what you did then?”
“Yes, Papa. I crawled into Oma’s lap, and I stopped crying.” Brigitte smiled. “I always want to be just like Oma.”
As though reading her mind, Papa said, “Gitte, remember the time Mama covered you with blankets in the shelter to try to block out the noise and screaming? You had been crying. I know that you were very much afraid. Then you heard one of our neighbors say, ‘I want to sit by Mrs. Baier—she has such strong faith, nothing ever happens to her.’ You pushed the blanket off and looked at Oma (Grandmother), who was sitting quietly. Do you remember what you did then?”
“Yes, Papa. I crawled into Oma’s lap, and I stopped crying.” Brigitte smiled. “I always want to be just like Oma.”
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Adversity
Children
Faith
Family
Peace
War
Be of Good Cheer
Summary: On a Pacific island, a blind man named Meli Mulipola sought a priesthood blessing from Thomas S. Monson and another Melchizedek Priesthood holder. After the blessing, he prayed that whether or not his sight returned, he would remain grateful for the gospel that had given him light and joy. Monson reflected on Christ being the light of the world.
I introduce next a gentle, faith-filled man who epitomized the peace and joy which the gospel of Jesus Christ can bring into one’s life.
Late one evening on a Pacific isle, a small boat slipped silently to its berth at the crude pier. Two Polynesian women helped Meli Mulipola from the boat and guided him to the well-worn pathway leading to the village road. The women marveled at the bright stars, which twinkled in the midnight sky. The moonlight guided them along their way. However, Meli Mulipola could not appreciate these delights of nature—the moon, the stars, the sky—for he was blind.
Brother Mulipola’s vision had been normal until a fateful day when, while working on a pineapple plantation, light turned suddenly to darkness and day became perpetual night. He was depressed and despondent until he learned the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ. His life was brought into compliance with the teachings of the Church, and he once again felt hope and joy.
Brother Mulipola and his loved ones had made a long voyage, having learned that one who held the priesthood of God was visiting among the islands of the Pacific. He sought a blessing, and it was my privilege, along with another who held the Melchizedek Priesthood, to provide that blessing to him. As we finished, I noted that tears were streaming from his sightless eyes, coursing down his brown cheeks and tumbling finally upon his native dress. He dropped to his knees and prayed: “O God, Thou knowest I am blind. Thy servants have blessed me that my sight might return. Whether in Thy wisdom I see light or whether I see darkness all the days of my life, I will be eternally grateful for the truth of Thy gospel, which I now see and which provides the light of my life.”
He rose to his feet and, smiling, thanked us for providing the blessing. He then disappeared into the still of the night. Silently he came; silently he departed. But his presence I shall never forget. I reflected upon the message of the Master: “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”6
Late one evening on a Pacific isle, a small boat slipped silently to its berth at the crude pier. Two Polynesian women helped Meli Mulipola from the boat and guided him to the well-worn pathway leading to the village road. The women marveled at the bright stars, which twinkled in the midnight sky. The moonlight guided them along their way. However, Meli Mulipola could not appreciate these delights of nature—the moon, the stars, the sky—for he was blind.
Brother Mulipola’s vision had been normal until a fateful day when, while working on a pineapple plantation, light turned suddenly to darkness and day became perpetual night. He was depressed and despondent until he learned the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ. His life was brought into compliance with the teachings of the Church, and he once again felt hope and joy.
Brother Mulipola and his loved ones had made a long voyage, having learned that one who held the priesthood of God was visiting among the islands of the Pacific. He sought a blessing, and it was my privilege, along with another who held the Melchizedek Priesthood, to provide that blessing to him. As we finished, I noted that tears were streaming from his sightless eyes, coursing down his brown cheeks and tumbling finally upon his native dress. He dropped to his knees and prayed: “O God, Thou knowest I am blind. Thy servants have blessed me that my sight might return. Whether in Thy wisdom I see light or whether I see darkness all the days of my life, I will be eternally grateful for the truth of Thy gospel, which I now see and which provides the light of my life.”
He rose to his feet and, smiling, thanked us for providing the blessing. He then disappeared into the still of the night. Silently he came; silently he departed. But his presence I shall never forget. I reflected upon the message of the Master: “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”6
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Members (General)
Conversion
Disabilities
Faith
Prayer
Priesthood Blessing
Not Just for Kicks
Summary: In high school he repeatedly refused offers to drink, smoke, and be immoral, committing to chastity even when it felt isolating. Though not raised religious, he learned about prayer from TV evangelists, began praying, and felt comfort in speaking with Heavenly Father.
In high school I had many opportunities to drink and smoke and do a lot of other unwholesome things. It just didn’t make sense to me to participate. In fact, it seemed destructive. So I got very good at saying, “No thanks.” Sometimes I would even challenge my friends to give it up. Also, I could see the misery that immorality caused, and I wanted no part of it. I made a personal commitment to save sexual intimacy for marriage. It seemed the only right way. At times I felt pretty alone, but I held on to my personal beliefs.
My family was not religious, so I didn’t belong to a church. It was through evangelists on television that I first learned about prayer. It made sense to pray, so I did and it felt good to be able to talk to my Heavenly Father. I felt I had a friend I could talk to who understood how I felt.
My family was not religious, so I didn’t belong to a church. It was through evangelists on television that I first learned about prayer. It made sense to pray, so I did and it felt good to be able to talk to my Heavenly Father. I felt I had a friend I could talk to who understood how I felt.
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👤 Youth
👤 Friends
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Chastity
Courage
Faith
Prayer
Temptation
Grandma’s Missionary Christmas
Summary: Carrie feels sad at Christmastime because her grandparents are away serving a mission in Paraguay, even though they send gifts. Weeks later, she receives a letter from them describing how they spent Christmas with a needy family in the jungle and how their love and service made the holiday special. Reading the letter restores Carrie’s Christmas joy and removes her emptiness.
Carrie felt the same tingly, happy feeling that came every year at Christmastime, but she also felt a little empty. Grandma and Grandpa were thousands of miles away on a mission in Paraguay. There were presents under the tree from them, but Mom had purchased them and printed “From Grandma and Grandpa” on the tags. It wasn’t the same. Carrie was happy that Grandma and Grandpa were serving Heavenly Father, but that didn’t take away the empty feeling.
Several weeks later, while Carrie was helping Mom pack away the last of the Christmas decorations, the mailman brought a letter. It was addressed to Carrie, and it was from Paraguay! In a second she had it open, and she and Mom snuggled on the sofa to read it:
Dear Little Carrie,
I thought about you a lot on Christmas Day. I imagined you and your mom and dad around the Christmas tree, opening presents and later eating turkey and pumpkin pie. Our Christmas in Paraguay was very different, and I thought you might like to hear about it.
We had decided to visit the Ugarte family for Christmas. They live 80 kilometers (50 miles) through the jungle, in a little village called Itakyry. There is a small chapel there, where we could spend the night. In the Ugarte family are a grandmother, a mother and father, and eleven children. Their house has only two rooms and two beds, so we couldn’t stay with them. We packed some small gifts in the back of the car and left early in the morning of the day before Christmas. Two young elders went with us.
In Itakyry, Sister Ugarte was very sad. It was the day before Christmas, and she had no presents to give her children. It took all their money and time just to provide the essential things that such a large family needed. Nothing was left for gifts or even a special treat for Christmas dinner.
All that morning she worked. She washed clothes in the stream and spread them on the bushes to dry. She tended the garden and cooked black beans and rice for their midday meal. After they ate, she rocked the baby and mended clothes. As she worked, she prayed, “Heavenly Father, please send our good friends, the missionaries, here for Christmas. I know it is a long way for them to come, but it would make this day special. Please, Heavenly Father.”
We didn’t know that she wanted us to come. The Spirit just told us that it would be good if we did. A bridge was washed away, so we had to walk the last few miles through the jungle. My goodness, how happy the Ugarte family was when they saw us coming through the trees!
That night we had a very special family home evening in the little wood chapel. The beautiful story of the birth of Christ was told, and testimonies were shared. Then for a long time we sat, watching the silent tropical stars and singing the sacred hymns of Christmas.
The Ugarte children didn’t understand when Grandpa tried to act like Santa Claus the next morning. They did enjoy the simple gifts we passed out, though. There was a small doll for each little girl, sweet-smelling soap for the older girls, and windup toys for the boys. Grandpa had to show the boys how to wind them up, because they had never seen toys like that before.
We missed our own dear grandchildren, but this Christmas in Paraguay was a very special one for us. The best gifts that we can give or receive at Christmastime are love and service.
I’m looking forward to hearing about your Christmas, Carrie. I hope that it was also filled with that special Christmas feeling and that you didn’t miss us too much.
Love,
Grandma and Grandpa
Carrie felt again the happy, tingly Christmas feeling—and all the emptiness was gone.
Several weeks later, while Carrie was helping Mom pack away the last of the Christmas decorations, the mailman brought a letter. It was addressed to Carrie, and it was from Paraguay! In a second she had it open, and she and Mom snuggled on the sofa to read it:
Dear Little Carrie,
I thought about you a lot on Christmas Day. I imagined you and your mom and dad around the Christmas tree, opening presents and later eating turkey and pumpkin pie. Our Christmas in Paraguay was very different, and I thought you might like to hear about it.
We had decided to visit the Ugarte family for Christmas. They live 80 kilometers (50 miles) through the jungle, in a little village called Itakyry. There is a small chapel there, where we could spend the night. In the Ugarte family are a grandmother, a mother and father, and eleven children. Their house has only two rooms and two beds, so we couldn’t stay with them. We packed some small gifts in the back of the car and left early in the morning of the day before Christmas. Two young elders went with us.
In Itakyry, Sister Ugarte was very sad. It was the day before Christmas, and she had no presents to give her children. It took all their money and time just to provide the essential things that such a large family needed. Nothing was left for gifts or even a special treat for Christmas dinner.
All that morning she worked. She washed clothes in the stream and spread them on the bushes to dry. She tended the garden and cooked black beans and rice for their midday meal. After they ate, she rocked the baby and mended clothes. As she worked, she prayed, “Heavenly Father, please send our good friends, the missionaries, here for Christmas. I know it is a long way for them to come, but it would make this day special. Please, Heavenly Father.”
We didn’t know that she wanted us to come. The Spirit just told us that it would be good if we did. A bridge was washed away, so we had to walk the last few miles through the jungle. My goodness, how happy the Ugarte family was when they saw us coming through the trees!
That night we had a very special family home evening in the little wood chapel. The beautiful story of the birth of Christ was told, and testimonies were shared. Then for a long time we sat, watching the silent tropical stars and singing the sacred hymns of Christmas.
The Ugarte children didn’t understand when Grandpa tried to act like Santa Claus the next morning. They did enjoy the simple gifts we passed out, though. There was a small doll for each little girl, sweet-smelling soap for the older girls, and windup toys for the boys. Grandpa had to show the boys how to wind them up, because they had never seen toys like that before.
We missed our own dear grandchildren, but this Christmas in Paraguay was a very special one for us. The best gifts that we can give or receive at Christmastime are love and service.
I’m looking forward to hearing about your Christmas, Carrie. I hope that it was also filled with that special Christmas feeling and that you didn’t miss us too much.
Love,
Grandma and Grandpa
Carrie felt again the happy, tingly Christmas feeling—and all the emptiness was gone.
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
👤 Missionaries
Children
Christmas
Family
Happiness
Missionary Work