Gospel Story Finder

Luisa closed her math book when the bell rang. She hadn’t been able to focus on the problems for the last hour anyway.
All the other students rushed out. It was the last class on Friday. Normally Luisa felt excited about the weekend too. But today she couldn’t feel anything but worried. Not since lunch. That was when her best friend, Carlotta, had asked her a question: “Can you keep a secret?”
At the time, Luisa had leaned in and nodded eagerly. She was good at keeping secrets. She thought for sure Carlotta was going to tell her about some cute boy she had a crush on.
But Carlotta’s secret wasn’t fun at all.
A voice interrupted Luisa’s thoughts. She blinked and looked up from her desk. “Did you have a question about your homework, Luisa?” her teacher asked. All the other students had already left the room.
“No,” Luisa answered. She met her teacher’s eyes. She just had to tell somebody! But Carlotta had made her promise not to.
“I’ve gotta catch the bus,” Luisa said quickly. She put on her coat and hurried out into the cold winter air.
The whole bus ride home, Luisa felt so nervous inside she could hardly stand it. Her chest felt tight, like it was hard to breathe.
Luisa couldn’t stop thinking about Carlotta’s secret. At lunch Carlotta said she had been doing something that was dangerous. Luisa could still hardly believe what she’d heard. She thought she knew her best friend! She couldn’t imagine Carlotta doing something scary like that. When lunch ended, Carlotta had made Luisa promise never to tell anyone.
But what if Carlotta got hurt?
Luisa tried to block out the laughing and talking around her in the bus as she closed her eyes and prayed in her heart.
Please, Heavenly Father, help me know what to do. I don’t want my friend to be mad at me. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to her either. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
The walk home from the bus stop felt longer than usual. Wouldn’t Mom be able to tell something was wrong when Luisa got home? What should she say?
Looking at the snow on the ground, Luisa remembered the snowball fight she and Carlotta had started with some other kids at the park last week. That was so much fun! She thought about the other things she and Carlotta loved doing together. Hanging out. Hiking. Doing homework. Playing sports.
What would it be like if Luisa told her secret and Carlotta didn’t want to be her friend anymore? The thought made Luisa’s stomach twist into an even tighter knot.
Then she had another thought. Right now the most important thing was what was best for Carlotta—not what Carlotta might think about her. Carlotta needed a true friend, a friend who would help her be safe. Luisa knew Jesus always did what was best for others, even if some people didn’t like Him.
Luisa knew what she needed to do. She had to talk to Mom about it. She would also call Carlotta and tell her how worried she was and that a grown-up needed to help. Maybe then Carlotta would talk to her mom too.
Luisa’s heart felt lighter as she walked up to her front door.
“Mom?” she called as she went inside. “Can we talk?”
Carlotta might end up being mad, but Luisa knew this was the right thing to do. She would be a true friend.
Some secrets are too important to keep.

One of my (many) pet peeves is when pedestrians take their sweet time on the crosswalk, texting and chatting on their phone. I sit in the car rolling my eyes and saying “really people?!” I find myself revving the engine, staring them down, and thinking not so good thoughts. My heart starts to race and I’m sitting there imagining myself (just like in the movies) following through on my negative thoughts. One day I made a choice to be patient, and if you know me well, you’ll know…It takes a miracle! On that morning, I prayed to Heavenly Father and literally asked for ‘more patience’. Bad idea! I have never in my life encountered so many challenges in one day. I was tested to the hilt on the very virtue that I had prayed for. I could only imagine Heavenly Father shaking his head saying, “You asked for it, girl!” Regardless of the challenges, on this particular day I decided that no matter what I was going to be nice, pardon others faults, blah, blah, blah. I also made a choice to be patient while waiting at the cross walk for God’s children to cross the street as they texted and chatted on their phones. As I sat there watching, and consciously making an effort to be empathetic and compassionate (believe me, it took every fiber of my being) I noticed my heart wasn’t racing and I felt calm.

Things were ok. When we remove our expectations of how our brothers and sisters should be – everything changes. When we choose to sing, and play the harmony melody, we choose to let God be the Mistral of our symphony. We choose to make our opus, His.

The story is told of a traveler who asked a farmer, “How’s the cotton crop going to be this year?”
The farmer replied, “There won’t be any. I didn’t bother to plant it, because I was afraid of the boll weevil.”
Upon hearing this, the traveler asked further, “Well, are you going to harvest a big corn crop?”
“It’s the same,” came the response. “I was afraid we wouldn’t get enough rain for the kernels to mature.”
The traveler pursued, “At least you will have a good potato harvest.”
“Nope. I didn’t dare plant any, because I was afraid of insects.”
Somewhat frustrated, the traveler then asked, “Well, what is it that you have planted?”
“Nothing, my good man,” came the answer. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

The chapel I worship at in Nigeria is close to a school whose principal wants nothing to do with the Church. On one occasion the principal told a teacher never to return to the school after learning that the teacher was a Latter-day Saint. A Church member who volunteered to visit and explain the mission of the Church was rebuffed.
As a salesman for laboratory and medical equipment, I often visit schools and hospitals to make sales. After one unsuccessful month, I had no choice but to visit this school. My plan was to sell my product and leave, hoping the principal would not find out I was a member of the Church. The Spirit, however, told me that she would want to know about my religion.
My business with the head of the school’s science department went smoothly, and he took me to the principal for payment. After filling out the check, she started asking questions to get to know me better. When her questions became personal, I began to feel uncomfortable. Then she asked the question I had been praying she would not ask: “Which denomination are you a member of?”
I was tempted to lie, collect my check, and go because I badly needed the sale. But I felt I should tell her the truth. After all, the early Saints had experienced worse than this minor test of my faith.
With renewed courage, I looked her straight in the eye and said, “I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Then I bore my testimony. To my surprise she smiled, said we all worship the same God, and handed me the check.
As I left, a scripture came to my mind: “Now this was a great trial to those that did stand fast in the faith; nevertheless, they were steadfast and immovable in keeping the commandments of God, and they bore with patience the persecution which was heaped upon them” (Alma 1:25).
I was happy not to have disappointed Heavenly Father or myself. Because of this experience, I made a commitment to always be a good sales representative. More important, I committed to always be a good representative of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Faith has always been a source of strength for me, especially as a single mother. My faith helped me find peace, patience, and hope when life felt overwhelming. The stories in the Book of Mormon inspired me to keep moving forward, knowing that I could overcome challenges with God’s help.
Lately, the word faith has stood out to me in my Book of Mormon studies. In Alma, the faithful Church members turned to the Lord because they knew their lives depended upon Him. As the wars ended, they were grateful to God for safely delivering them from their enemies. However, not long after God blessed them with safety and prosperity, they quickly forgot where those blessings came from.
“Yea, and we may see at the very time when he doth prosper his people… yea, then is the time that they do harden their hearts, and do forget the Lord their God, and do trample under their feet the Holy One—yea, and this because of their ease, and their exceedingly great prosperity” (Helaman 12:2).
The Book of Mormon shows us that pride will cause us to lose faith. As God’s children are blessed and no longer in distress, they tend to forget God. They believe they no longer need Him.
President Russell M. Nelson counseled us to “think celestial!”
“Thinking celestial means being spiritually minded. From the Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, we learn that ‘to be spiritually minded is life eternal’ [2 Nephi 9:39].
“When you make choices, I invite you to take the long view—an eternal view. Put Jesus Christ first because your eternal life is dependent upon your faith in Him and in His Atonement. It is also dependent upon your obedience to His laws. Obedience paves the way for a joyful life for you today and a grand, eternal reward tomorrow” (“Think Celestial!,” Liahona, Nov. 2023, 12).
Faith comes to us through the gift of the Holy Ghost, and we receive the gift of the Holy Ghost by obedience to God’s laws and commandments. Sin destroys faith. Prayer and repentance will keep faith strong.
We read in 3 Nephi 5:3 that certain Nephites and Lamanites held firm to their faith: “They did forsake all their sins . . . and did serve God with all diligence day and night.” How they stayed strong when others were losing their faith is found in 3 Nephi 6:14: They were “converted unto the true faith; and they would not depart from it, for they were firm, and steadfast, and immovable, willing with all diligence to keep the commandments of the Lord.” They remained strong because they made a covenant with the Lord, and that covenant was more important to them than their own life.
Through the Book of Mormon, we learn that faith is strengthened by obedience, righteousness, repentance, seeking the Savior’s influence, serving God diligently, becoming firm and steadfast, keeping the commandments, and keeping our covenants with God.
There were many years in my life when I was a single mom, caring for five children at home and teaching 25 or more children at school. I knew the only way I could do this was with the help of the Lord. I hung on to the iron rod like I had never done before, combined with prayer and temple service. As I did this, I witnessed the hand of God in my life in many ways, great and small.
I know that as we seek to study and learn the lessons in the Book of Mormon, our faith will increase, and as difficult times arise, we will have the faith to get through them.

Let me share a very specific example to help you understand both the power and importance of building on such a foundation. The example I've chosen represents the most important aspect of building in which my wife, Margaret, and I have personally been involved - the building of our marriage and family. Even before we were married in the Logan Temple, we had decided that we wanted to build our marriage and family on the Savior and His teachings. We wanted a family built on a foundation of love, respect and service and obedience to all of the Savior's teachings. But like every young couple, we had much to learn about how to put that into practice. We had to adapt and learn how to become "doers" of His teachings, not just "hearers only."

Over the years as our family grew in number and age, and our personal circumstances made it possible to do so, we began planning for an extended family vacation every few years. Let me tell you about one of those memorable vacations. We decided we would go to Europe for three weeks, renting a van and staying in youth hostels, a friend's vacation house, and other inexpensive venues available at that time.

We gave assignments to our five children - ranging in age from 5 to 14 - to prepare reports on each of the places we would visit and to share those during the business portion of family home evening. We also decided where we would go in each country visited, what we would take with us, and what cities we wanted to stay in each Saturday and Sunday night so we could attend church and keep the Sabbath appropriately. This past week as I was preparing for this devotional, I asked our youngest son, Spencer, who was only five years old when we took that vacation to Europe, what he remembered of the trip. I was struck by his response. He said, "I recall so many wonderful memories: the big red van we all piled into, playing games in the airports as we waited for flights, the narrow streets in Spain where we had to pull in the side mirrors of our van to avoid having them hit the walls of houses, trying to keep serious faces for a photo in an old castle in Germany, falling into a cold mountain stream in Switzerland and having you come to the rescue and put an icy cold compress on my cheek, seeing the St. Bernard dogs at the border of Switzerland and Italy, and taking the ferry from Holland to England. But most of all I just remember the wonderful time we had as a family." Here is a photo of our family and that red van as we prepared to board the ferry in Rotterdam.

It has been over thirty years since we took that trip, but each of our five children remembers the many wonderful experiences as a family. At the time, our children thought they were going on a vacation, but Margaret and I hoped that we were building an eternal family on a foundation of love, respect and service. That trip was so successful that a few years later we took a fishing trip to Alaska. Here is one of the memorable photos from that trip. As we continued building our family on that sure foundation, their love, respect and service for each other continued to grow.

In 2001, Margaret and I were presiding over the England London Mission and 200 missionaries when my mother passed away after years of illness. Because we could not attend the funeral, our five children represented us. Here is a photo of them on that occasion as they supported each other while we were thousands of miles away.

Fortunately, that foundation of love, respect and service that we have sought to build for our family has continued to stand the test of time. Five years ago, our family decided to take another fishing vacation to that same spot in Alaska where we had gone decades earlier. Here is a photo from that vacation. And so you don't think we only gather for vacations, let me share one more photo when our family came for my inauguration as President of BYU–Hawaii in 2007. As captured in this photo we again had all of our family together. You will recognize the location as the Laie Temple. This is the photo I use as my screensaver on my personal computer. It reminds me daily that temples are an integral part of our family's foundation.

While we continue to renew and strengthen the foundation we started building on over forty years ago, we know now, even more surely that we did then, that the Lord and His gospel are the only sure foundation on which to build a marriage and family. As stated so clearly by the Psalmist: "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it;"

Getting where he is now hasn’t been easy. He’s a sprinter with a marathon schedule. Moroni is off to school early. After school there’s just enough time to wolf down a snack before heading off to training. By the time he’s home, at around 8:00 P.M., he barely has time to eat dinner and do homework. Then it’s off to bed. Keeping up with Moroni isn’t a challenge just on the track.
“It’s a sacrifice,” Moroni says. “A lot of times I want to do other things, like hang out with my friends or play the guitar. But there’s no time.”
As Moroni tries to juggle his training schedule with homework, family, church, and friends, the scripture about a man running “faster than he has strength” takes on more than one meaning for him.
Like many Latter-day Saint teens, Moroni has had to be careful not to overload himself by doing too much. From his experience as a runner, Moroni knows that you can hurt yourself when you push too hard. As King Benjamin told his people, “It is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength” (Mosiah 4:27).
But to Moroni that scripture isn’t an excuse to stay in his comfort zone; it’s a challenge to increase his strength. When he began competing in the 100 meters at age 14, his top time was 11.9 seconds. Through growth and training, he has increased his strength and improved his time. Now Moroni’s best time in the 100 meters is 10.46 seconds—the Mexican record in the junior (minor) division.
“It’s the consistency in training,” he says, “every day without quitting. I know I have limits, but they can change. On the track there are times when I think I can’t make it, but stretching that much farther is part of the sacrifice to get better.”
Or in King Benjamin’s words: “And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize” (Mosiah 4:27). That lesson hasn’t been lost on Moroni off the track.
“Trials that once seemed impossible aren’t necessarily,” Moroni says. “The Lord will never give us challenges we can’t overcome. We can overcome them even if at first we think we can’t. Never giving up is how we grow and get better. In the end, the sacrifices are worth it.”

Thomas Giles, a Welsh convert who joined the Church in 1844, also suffered much in his lifetime. He was a miner, and while he was digging coal in the mine, a large piece of coal hit him on the head and inflicted a wound nine inches long. The doctor who examined him said the injured man would not live longer than 24 hours. But then the elders came and administered to him. He was promised that he would get well, and that “even if he would never see again, he would live to do much good in the Church.” Brother Giles did indeed live but was blind the rest of his life. Within a month of his injury “he was out traveling through the country attending to his ecclesiastical duties.”

In 1856 Brother Giles and his family immigrated to Utah, but before he left his homeland, the Welsh Saints presented him with a harp, which he learned to play skillfully. At Council Bluffs he joined a handcart company and headed west. “Though blind he pulled a handcart from Council Bluffs to Salt Lake City.” While crossing the plains his wife and two children died. “His sorrow was great and his heart almost broken, but his faith did not fail him. In the midst of his grief he said as did one of old, ‘The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’” When Brother Giles arrived in Salt Lake City, President Brigham Young, who had heard his story, loaned Brother Giles a valuable harp until his own arrived from Wales. Brother Giles “traveled from settlement to settlement in Utah, … gladdening the hearts of the people with his sweet music.”

Bro. Tew: Many years ago after I had moved away from home and graduated from college, but before I met Donnette, I called my parents to tell them that I felt I had not really accomplished anything notable in my life. My mother wrote down a list of things from my life she thought were notable. My father added to the list; then they mailed it to me. After I read the list, I said, "That's right. That has happened. And so has that! Maybe there have been lots of worthwhile events in my life after all." My parents say that my optimism improved after that. I have watched the fervent prayers my mother has given in my behalf. I know that those prayers continue even when I do not see them. I feel of their strength, and sometimes today when I have something difficult to deal with, such as preparing for this devotional, I ask for my parents' prayers because of the strength I feel from them.

You may have read in the national media in recent weeks the touching story of a woman from Swissvale, Pennsylvania, by the name of Jeni Stepien. In 2006 Jeni’s father was shot by a sixteen-year-old assailant in a robbery. He was mortally wounded, and the family made the difficult decision to donate his organs. Arthur Thomas from New Jersey, then sixty-two years old and suffering from congestive heart failure, was the recipient of Mr. Stepien’s heart.

Late last year, ten years after losing her father, Jeni Stepien was engaged to be married, and her first thought after her engagement was, “Who will walk me down the aisle?”

At her fiancé’s suggestion, Ms. Stepien asked Arthur Thomas—the recipient of her father’s donor heart—to do the honors, and he agreed.

The wedding took place in the church in Swissvale in which Ms. Stepien’s parents had been married. Mr. Thomas suggested that as they walked down the aisle, Jeni grip his wrist, where his pulse was the strongest: “I thought that would be the best way for her to feel close to her dad,” he said, adding, “That’s her father’s heart beating.”

After the ceremony the bride was photographed with her hand on Mr. Thomas’s chest. “I felt wonderful about bringing her dad’s heart,” said Mr. Thomas. “If I had to, I would’ve walked.”

Danny Price sat on a stump in the woods behind his house, chewing his fingernails. In two days school would start, and he still didn’t know anyone in Sutton. Who was he kidding? He didn’t know anyone in the whole state of Illinois except his parents, and they didn’t count.
“Eeeeeya!”
“Wha—?” Danny sprang off the stump and faced his attacker. Before him stood the skinniest girl he’d ever seen. Her thick black hair was braided down her back, and Ping-Pong balls taped to wires stuck out of a headband in front. Her face was painted with red and green polka dots, and she held a flashlight in her hand like a laser rod. Beside her stood a huge dog.
“Did I scare you?” She looked hopeful.
“Well, maybe a little.”
She looked so pleased that Danny almost wished he’d said he’d been terrified.
“What’s your name?” asked the girl.
“Danny Price. We just moved here. What’s your name?”
“Today it’s Stella Andromeda. This is my trusty dog-droid, Sir Sirius. Tomorrow I’ll probably be somebody else, though. Maybe Florence Nightingale.”
“Who’s that?”
“Oh, she was this wonderful nurse, and she—Hey, maybe you can be a wounded soldier, and I’ll cut off your leg!”
“I don’t know …”
“We can switch if you get bored.”
“Well … maybe.”
“OK. We’ll wait and see who you feel like being before we decide.” She frowned and said, “But if you just want to be yourself, I’ll probably just be me, and you don’t know my real name.” Stella Andromeda considered the problem for a moment. “Well,” she said at last, “I’ll just have to tell you. I’m Albergetta Simonetta Veronica Lynn Blankenberry.”
Danny counted. “You’re the only person I know who has five names.” He thought it was great, but Stella Andromeda didn’t seem to agree.
“Isn’t it awful?” she moaned. “If you have to, call me Al. But only when I’m being me, OK?”
“OK.”
“Good. But what’ll we do now? Do you want to explore the Dark Galaxy with Sir Sirius and me?”
“Sure!”
“You’ll need an outer-space name.” Stella Andromeda looked the new space cadet over while Sir Sirius sniffed his toes.
“How about Star Avenger?”
Stella Andromeda frowned. “What do you think, Sir Sirius?” Sir Sirius licked the space cadet’s tennis shoes and barked.
Stella Andromeda grinned. “Welcome to the space rangers, Star Avenger.” She shook his hand, then put a finger to her lips.
“Do you hear that?”
“What?”
“Come on.”
The two space rangers and their trusty dog-droid trotted steadily through the astral forest. Actually Star Avenger kept getting caught in briars and tripping over tree roots. But his space friend assured him that all he needed was a little practice.
“I hear it now!” whispered Star Avenger. “It sounds like an alien war party.”
“Let’s sneak up and spy on them.”
The space rangers crept through the forest until they reached a ridge that sloped gently down to a thin creek and back up on the other side. Two younger kids—“They’re third graders,” whispered Stella Andromeda—stood with their backs to the rangers, while another crouched over something small and still. She poked it with a stick, and they all screamed with laughter.
“What do they have?” asked Star Avenger.
Stella Andromeda’s face had become very red. Her eyes were dark and stormy. “They’re teasing a ’possum. It looks dead, but that may be just an act.”
“What do you mean?”
“ ’Possums sometimes play dead so that their enemies will leave them alone. It doesn’t look like the act’s going to work, though.”
The kids seemed to be enjoying the game. The girl with the stick poked the ’possum again, while one of her friends tried to feed it some moss. They all laughed hysterically.
Now Star Avenger’s face was every bit as red as Stella Andromeda’s. His hands curled into fists.
“I can’t stand this,” he muttered. “We have to rescue it.”
Stella Andromeda nodded and pulled her laser rod from her pocket.
“Let’s go.” She began to run down the slope, whooping at the top of her lungs and slashing the flashlight around her. Star Avenger added his own war cry and leapt down the ridge after her, with Sir Sirius growling at his side.
Startled, the third graders looked up at them. One lost his balance and fell into the creek. He scrambled out and crawled up the ridge without even looking back. The girl with the stick threw it down and ran along the creek bank, screaming all the way. The remaining tormentor hesitated, then decided two space rangers were more than he could handle. He turned and raced after the girl.
Star Avenger chased the enemy until he heard Stella Andromeda call him back. When he returned, she was hunching over the ’possum. “Is it OK?” he asked, kneeling beside her.
“I think so. At least it’s breathing, and I can’t see any cuts on it. Let’s leave it alone and see what happens.”
They sat down on a fallen tree a few feet away. Sir Sirius lay at their feet.
“Cross your fingers,” whispered Stella Andromeda.
They waited a long time. Star Avenger got a cramp and had to stand up, and still the ’possum didn’t move. “What if it dies?” he whispered.
“We’ll give it a proper space burial.”
Finally the ’possum stirred. Sir Sirius’s ears pricked up, but Stella Andromeda grabbed his collar before he could move. For a long minute the small, beleaguered creature looked warily at the space rangers. Then it turned and sidled quickly up the ridge and into the woods.
“It’s gone home,” said Star Avenger.
Stella Andromeda nodded. “Which is where I should be going.”
“Stella Andromeda,” said Star Avenger as they turned for home, “I think that tomorrow I’ll be an Indian.”
“Great! Sir Sirius will be our trusty sidekick, Bear, and I’ll be Running Buffalo, and we can have a rain dance and a peace council. That is … if you want some company.”
“I’m counting on it!”

A couple of years ago, my dad found out that one of his employees had embezzled a lot of money from him. This man had also been his close friend, and it crushed my dad that his friend would do something so horrible.
When confronted about the situation, my dad’s employee got extremely angry and defensive. My dad didn’t want to go to the authorities because the embezzlement could put the man in prison, so he decided to go through a legal mediator. The employee refused to repay the money he had stolen.
The mediator finally asked my dad, “Why are you doing all this? He’s being difficult and unreceptive. If you just turned in all the evidence to the authorities, it would all be over and done with. Why are you putting yourself through so much hassle for someone who won’t even apologize to you?”
And my dad answered, “Because I don’t want to ruin his life.”
After everything was settled, my dad never complained about it. I complained about it a lot, and I wasn’t even involved directly.

Just last month our family was reminded of this great principle when we were honored to participate in the baptism of a young man we met just a few months earlier. As I mentioned earlier, a year ago I was assigned to give the BYU Devotional. Prior to delivering my remarks, I met a faithful young man, Cristian, who worked on the production crew. A few months later, he learned I was to preside at a stake conference in his area and called to tell me about Eric, a nonmember law school classmate who he felt would benefit from visiting with me about my professional career. He asked if I would be willing to meet with them at the stake center following my conference assignment. I agreed.

We had a wonderful visit ranging from the law school experience, adapting to BYU Provo culture, professional experiences and his aspirations in life. We discussed some key points of doctrine of the gospel and his efforts to increase in faith as he sought to know the Lord. As we departed, I invited him to listen to general conference the following month.

Some months later, his friend Cristian, again called to see if I would be willing to connect with them on zoom as they had something they wanted to share. We connected virtually and Eric shared how the messages of general conference touched him. Much to my delight they announced that Eric had decided to be baptized and asked if we would attend. Sister Gerard and I adjusted our schedule and were able to join them on this momentous occasion. I was thrilled to see his fellow law students and a faithful bishop and his wife who had all come to support Eric.

Following the baptism and confirmation, Eric was invited to share his conversion story. He spoke of his spiritual growth, his worldwide travels and most recently his studies in the Middle East where circumstances required him to leave. He joked about giving the missionaries a hard time telling them he would only be baptized if President Nelson baptized him. He then shared that he did not fully understand why he felt he was to come to BYU, but then he said, “when I decided to let God prevail in my life, things seemed to change, and I was much happier.”

I was struck by the relatively simple but significant message. That allowing God to prevail in his life brought him to this place at this time to learn his purpose in life and to accept the truth. I’m not sure he fully appreciated the impact of his message. I thought of President Nelson in his prophetic direction to let god prevail, and the profound change we can all experience as we let god prevail in our own personal lives.

Dan’s thoughts turned to a story a favorite bishop had told him, something which had happened on another Christmas Eve many years ago. His bishop had been a soldier in basic training. It had looked as though there might be no Christmas leave—had looked as though Private Benjamin Clark would have to spend Christmas at Fort Ord, California, far from his friends and loved ones in Idaho.
And then at the last minute had come the welcome orders: Seven days’ Christmas leave, effective immediately.
It had been too late for Ben to make plane reservations—too late to catch a bus out of Monterey. It had been too late to ride with the LDS guys from Charlie Company—too late to do anything but walk to the highway and stick out one thumb.
A trucker named “Red” with a load of California produce had picked up Ben and carried him east into Nevada. He had joined his baritone voice with Red’s Irish tenor, and they had sung up all the Christmas songs either of them had known.
And then at Winnemucca he had stood in the cold for so long, waiting for a ride north on US 95 toward Boise. In the best of times there wasn’t much traffic on that stretch of road—and on a late Christmas Eve night, well …
But at last a pair of headlights had appeared, had slowed, had pulled to a stop, had picked him up. Thank goodness they had been going his way and said they could take him almost all the way to Boise.
Dan recalled how the bishop had described what came next: It was not until he and his duffel bag were in the back seat and the car had been moving that the young soldier realized the three young men in the front seat were drunk—and getting drunker. They had offered Ben a drink from their bottle and had been offended when he declined.
The young soldier in the back seat had become alarmed. The driver had been much too drunk; the car had been going much too fast; the car radio had been much too loud. A feeling of darkness, of foreboding had filled Ben’s mind as he considered his situation.
Finally, he had said it: “Please! Stop the car! I want to get out!”
The reply had been loud laughter from the front seat. “You said you were going to Boise,” they had reminded him. “Well, hang on, soldier boy, ’cause we ain’t stopping for nobody and nothing until we hit Nampa.”
For several fearful miles Ben had listened to the sound of the tires on the highway, the loud music on the radio, the reckless talk and the loud laughter from the front seat. He had endured the strong smell of cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey all around him.
With each mile, he had feared more for his life. In his fear, he had turned to prayer. “Heavenly Father, I’m in an awful mess, and I don’t see how I can get out of it. Please help me. Please protect me and preserve my life. Heavenly Father, I’m afraid, and I really need thy help. …”
Dan could recall his bishop’s very words: “And then had come a very quiet, very peaceful prompting telling me to get down on the floor and put my duffel bag over me.”
He had done so immediately. In the narrow space between the front seat and the back, Ben had hunched down, had wedged himself in tightly, had pulled the weight of the duffel bag over onto his back. Then he had put his forehead on the floor and his hands over his head.
A few minutes later the end of the world came. There had been the sound of screaming tires, the wild swerving of the car out of control—and the jolting, jarring, jamming impact of two high-speed vehicles fusing into one pile of scrap iron in the desert.
Much later, the young Latter-day Saint soldier had regained consciousness. He had found himself in a black world where he could move neither arms nor legs nor head. There had seemed to be no up nor down, no left nor right, nothing to help orient him. Nothing had stirred within the dead car—except for the smells of gasoline and of vomited whiskey—of sudden death in what had been a front seat.
Perhaps an hour had passed before a big diesel rig had pulled to a stop at the remote accident site. Two truckers had radioed for help, surmised that no one in either car could have survived such total destruction.
But the highway patrol had discovered otherwise. Along with the dead couple in one car and the three dead teenage boys in the other, they had found and then rescued Private Benjamin Clark.
“Young man,” one trooper had said, “you aren’t too good at picking folks to ride with, but I figure someone up there knows your name, rank, and serial number. I hope you do something good with your life, because you owe Him one. Only God could have brought you through this night with not one scratch on your body.”

In addition to Diahann, Brother Cox has introduced the Church to several other young people. “I thought Brother Cox was crazy,” Theresa Matthis said. “He invited me to church. Finally I agreed to come. I always came home happy, but I didn’t let Brother Cox know.”
Theresa’s sister Nicole began attending church with her, and both were baptized. Theresa looks a little differently at the problem of keeping friends after making such a life-changing decision as baptism. She said, “I didn’t lose friends; I gained friends.” Then looking at the group gathered together in a circle, she said, “I gained all of you.”

Video:
President Oaks: “When my father died, my mother moved her three children … to live with our grandparents because she suffered a very serious mental breakdown and was unable to care for herself. Or, first of all, unable to continue a master’s degree program she had begun at that time. And she had to have medical assistance for almost two years to function. Now, that’s a pretty serious form of mental instability. And I grew up with that because my mother had a miraculous recovery from her nervous breakdown and became a person of extraordinary mental capacity, having a professional life in which she helped organize academic programs to care for people that had a mental instability and in which she was a leading professional in her life. And some people have greater gifts of mental stability than others. Some may struggle all their life. Some may have a serious episode and get over it, like my mother did. But what are some ways to promote mental stability?”
Carol: “I’ve experienced a lot of anxiety throughout my life. And so I feel like this has been a question that I’ve had on my mind a lot and I’ve struggled with a lot too. But these last few weeks in seminary, we’ve really been focusing on learning about the Atonement. And as I learned about Jesus Christ, and that he suffered every single thing I’ve felt, I felt so much comfort, knowing that any mental instability I may feel, for whatever reason, he’s felt that too. And I was able to find great comfort in that and just knowing that I’m not alone.”
President Oaks: “That’s a wonderful description of a part of the Atonement that many people overlook. He didn’t just suffer for our sins. He suffered for our pains, our inadequacies, including our depressions and anxieties. He’s felt it all.”
President Dallin H. Oaks, Facebook, Aug. 6, 2023, facebook.com/dallin.h.oaks.

“One, two, three, skip four, and five!” Diane chanted as she hopped and skipped down the hopscotch squares. Now that school was out, she could play outside every day with her friend Laura. Diane teetered on one foot, then giggled. As she regained her balance, she noticed a girl she had never seen before walking over from the house next door.
“My name’s Emma,” the girl said. “Can I play with you?”
“Sure!” Diane said. Laura grinned and nodded.
The three girls laughed and played all morning long. Emma was a lot of fun to be around! When she told Diane and Laura that she was visiting her grandparents for two weeks, the girls decided to play together every day.
But on Saturday, Emma told Diane and Laura that she wouldn’t be playing with them the next day.
“Why not?” Laura asked.
“I go to church every Sunday morning, then spend time with my family,” Emma explained. “I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Diane frowned. “Can’t you miss church just this once?” she asked. They didn’t have many days left to play together.
“I don’t want to miss church,” Emma said. “I love going. We have a fun meeting called Primary that’s just for kids. We sing and listen to stories about Jesus and the prophets.”
Diane and Laura looked at her doubtfully. It sure didn’t sound as fun as hopscotch.
“You could both come with me, if you wanted,” Emma said.
“Um, no thanks,” Diane said.
“Nah,” Laura said.
But on Monday, Diane asked Emma to tell them more about her church. She and Laura both wondered how it could possibly be more fun than playing on Sunday.
“Yesterday I heard stories from the Book of Mormon.” Her friends looked puzzled. “It’s a book like the Bible and has lots of scriptures and stories about Jesus,” Emma explained. “When I pray about the stories, I feel happy and I know that Heavenly Father is telling me they’re true.”
For two weeks the girls played together almost every day. It felt like they had always been friends. The days passed quickly, and then it was time for Emma to go home. She was sad to leave, and Diane and Laura were sad to see her go. They watched and waved as Emma drove away with her family.
“I didn’t really understand everything she was telling us about her church,” Laura said.
“Me neither,” Diane said. “But I felt good when she was talking about it.”
“Yeah,” Laura said.

One gracious mother joyously recounted in a stake conference the marvelous experience of being in one of the temples with her husband and with all of her children but one and being sealed together as husband and wife and family for time and all eternity. Her husband, newly involved in the priesthood, sat in the conference audience a few rows back. For a moment she seemed to forget all of the rest of us and spoke only to him. Over the pulpit and through the loudspeaker, with more than a thousand people in tears watching and listening, she said: “John, the children and I don’t know how to tell you what you mean to us. Until you honored the priesthood, the greatest blessings of eternity would not open up for us. Now they have. We all love you very much, and we thank you with all our hearts for what you have made possible for us.”

Because Shellee is always trying, people are drawn to her. For example, in ninth grade Shellee wanted to be a cheerleader. When it came time for tryout practices, she went but struggled trying to understand all the instructions. Luckily, her bubbly personality and eagerness to learn won her the admiration of the other girls and one varsity cheerleader in particular.
Michelle Shoell, then a junior, took Shellee home with her every night that week to practice with her. Shellee could do the moves; she just needed help combining the moves with the words. “She is one of the most sparkling people I’ve ever met,” Michelle says, “and I wanted to see her make it.”
Before the final tryouts, Michelle even told the coach, “I don’t really care if I make it as long as Shellee does.” Both girls made the squad.

I would like to thank you for the article “Profanity” (May 1992). I was teaching an investigator who asked me why the Church feels it’s wrong to swear when everyone does it. All that came to mind was this article and these lines: “It’s the same mouth you use to pray, bear testimony, and bless the sacrament.” That’s all I had to say, because tears fell from my investigator’s eyes.
Elder Dwayne VictorFlorida Tampa Mission