Gospel Story Finder

Marjon had some definite things she wanted to accomplish as queen, and not long after she was crowned, Kickin’ up Kindness made its debut. She had 20 minutes to speak in front of a group of elementary school students.
“I needed to keep them really involved because I could easily lose their attention,” she says, remembering the day. After she spent some time explaining Kickin’ up Kindness, she handed each child a pencil and paper. “The more I could have them doing things, the better. So I asked them to write about kind deeds.”
The results were both heartwarming and fascinating.
I have helped my dad when he needed money. I have given him my money to help him keep up with bills, food, and other things for our family.—Kim
One day my mom was sick, so I took care of my two sisters so my mom could rest.—Amanda
My best friend’s parents were going through a divorce. She needed comfort. I helped her through that.—Kelly
Marjon continues, “Looking back, I see the positive changes Kickin’ up Kindness has had on me and on other people. When I’m in a school assembly, I ask the children to show me their very best smiles because, to me, one of the best ways you can show kindness is to smile at people. A smile is contagious. Everyone understands what a smile means.”
Marjon then reads some more of the notes she’s received.
I typed my friend’s paper because she’s not very good at typing things up.—Jenny
One thing I did was help my friend find his lost dog.—Joe
I am nice to people.—Freddy
She could go on and on. There is page after page of similar good-deed notes. Instead Marjon puts her scrapbook down. Each one she reads brings a smile to her face. And she’s right. A smile is contagious.

When I started reading “When Thou Art Converted” in the March New Era, it sounded strangely familiar. I suddenly realized that the author was the same Elder Young who taught me the discussions while I worked for the Forest Service last summer in Swan Valley, Idaho.
My job and the Teton Dam disaster made for a really interesting summer, but the sincerity and care with which Elder Young taught me left the most memorable and cherished impression. He ended his mission before I finished the discussions, so I never really had the chance to thank him for the wonderful way he helped change my life and open up new horizons. I only wish he could have been there for my early-morning baptism in the Snake River so he could have witnessed one of the happiest fruits of his labors.
Carol KounanisWest Lafayette, Indiana

I have a friend named Jake, who, although he is not LDS, is a strong Christian. This past year we often chatted on Facebook. Jake often asks me questions about our religion, and I will use the scripture masteries to help him understand our beliefs. Jake believes in the Bible, so I often share a Bible scripture mastery and then share a Book of Mormon scripture that goes along with it.
One time he asked a question about our view of heaven. I was able to share the plan of salvation with him and refer to 1 Corinthians 15:40–42 to help him understand. By using the scripture mastery verses, I helped Jake to understand that we believe in the Bible.
Through the Internet I’ve shared the gospel and my own personal testimony of the Church. Jake often posts religious videos on Facebook and asks me to watch them. Afterwards, we discuss it, and a few times I’ve linked him to the Mormon Messages channel on YouTube.
Computers can be used for harm. However, we can and should use computers to share the gospel with friends and family.

I have recently been given the challenge of teaching the teenagers in combined courses 17 and 18 in the Sunday School. The other day as I walked past my home business office, my eyes were drawn like a magnet to the January-February 1982 New Era atop my desk. I let myself be interrupted from what I was doing that Saturday morning and settled myself in a comfortable chair with the New Era.
Perhaps it’s a good thing that Feedback appears in the very front of this choice, choice magazine. I carefully read the contents of each letter. As my mind dwelled on the contents of Sister Lesley Burton’s letter, the words I was intended to find sprang from the printed page: “How important it is to prepare ourselves spiritually for the tests of life.” My theme sign for weekly use with my Sunday School class throughout the year will read “Prepare yourself spiritually for the tests of life.”
When I read Sister Burton’s words, I knew through the promptings of the Holy Ghost that I had discovered just what I needed for my teaching efforts. Needless to say, I shall make time to continue reading all the contents of this New Era in the very near future.
Sue H. BaileyOrangewood, California

Although the Youngs were a Bible-reading family and three of Brigham’s brothers became itinerant preachers for the Methodist Reformed Church, Brigham himself was not really converted to any church until he received a copy of the Book of Mormon from his brother Phinehas and studied it. Even then “I weighed the matter studiously for nearly two years,” he said, “before I made up my mind to receive that Book.”
In the fall of 1831 five elders from an isolated branch of the Church in Pennsylvania came to the neighborhood to preach. Brigham and his friend Heber C. Kimball listened to them and believed what they taught. Within a few months they were both baptized. Father Young, all Brigham’s brothers and sisters, and his ailing wife also became members.

There is a boy at school who found out I don’t swear. The day he found out, he made a game out of trying to get me to say bad words. But I didn’t swear the whole day at all. Today, it’s still kind of a game—and I’m winning! He’ll say something to try to get me to swear, but I’ll say something funny back and everybody will laugh. He’s not offended, and I’m not swearing. It works for everybody.
Eden S., age 11, New South Wales, Australia

Kirsty Slater, now 17, first met the Grices when she was 9. They invited her to a Primary party, then other activities. By age 14 she was a regular visitor, and the missionaries began teaching her at age 15.
“I had a calling before baptism and was doing my Personal Progress,” she smiles. “I was second counsellor in the Mia Maids.” On 4th February 1990 her parents eventually agreed to Kirsty’s baptism, and family attended in full force—aunts, uncles, and all.
“Conventions and testimony meetings were a great influence,” Kirsty admits. “Church gives me something to aim for. Sometimes it’s hard, but it seems to make things more complete. Seminary helped me learn a lot before baptism. I got answers to things I didn’t understand.”

When selected chapels in your stake are only ten minutes from the Bull Run battlefield of Civil War fame, 20 minutes from George Washington’s Mount Vernon, and 30 minutes from Washington, D.C., it’s only natural that your stake roadshows would bear the theme, “What’s More American?”

And for the newly formed Fairfax Virginia Stake, they did.

On March 16 and 17, 176 youths paraded up aisles to open their first annual roadshows with just that question. They carried with them 176 possible answers in the form of corn flake boxes, toothpaste tubes, footballs, baseball gloves, Christmas tree decorations, American flags, rock albums, peanut butter jars, and an array of other paraphernalia.

“What’s More American?” was asked in song. It was answered at the song’s conclusion with a unanimous shout, “I am!”

Once it was established that there’s nothing more American than Americans, each decade of our 20th century was introduced with narration and slides made from authentic pictures of the period. Among the 76 slides shown were the Wright Brothers’ first flight, Henry Ford’s Model T, and Scarlett O’Hara’s Tara.

Each ward roadshow was developed around a decade and immediately followed its slide introduction. Wakefield Ward opened the century with Teddy Roosevelt frantically searching for his missing daughter, Alice. Even the Pinkertons were called in to assist. But it all ended happily with Alice’s lavish wedding to Mr. Longworth. Manassas Ward brought 1910–1920 alive with the suffragette movement.

The 1920s gave Fairfax Ward a story line that included everything from crashing airplanes to flappers and gangsters. Charlie McCarthy, Edgar Bergen, and Shirley Temple were among those who helped Americans through the “Hard-Time 30s.” Prince William Ward brought them all to life with lavish imagination and costumes.

Warrenton Branch introduced the ’40s with a wartime laboratory that was trying to split the atom but ended up inventing the milk shake. Stuffing phone booths, doodling, and viewing 3-D movies didn’t make much sense to “square” Freddie of the 1950s. Woodbridge Ward showed Freddie finally finding someplace where he could excel so he was no longer considered a square. Fancy Foot Freddie and Boogie Woogie Betty ended the decade with a swinging rendition of the jitterbug.

The curtain closed. The combo began playing. Once again the Fairfax Stake young people marched up the aisles and began singing, “What’s More American?”

To accompany their singing, slides of the most American thing around were flashed on two large walls: The young people themselves were featured. They were hiking, laughing, running, playing, working, singing, picnicking, camping, painting, practicing, listening, serving, learning, wondering, stretching, yelling, swimming, eating, dancing, and praying.

After it was all over, church members may have driven past Bull Run, Mount Vernon, and Washington, D.C., on their journeys home. But the most American things in this area were still at the Fairfax chapel removing make-up and costumes.

One Sunday night about three months after I had moved from my native Mexico to the United States to attend school, I flipped through several radio stations trying to find some good Sunday music. As I listened to several local stations, I heard a familiar voice and stopped.
I suspected that the voice was that of President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910?2008), who was President of the Church at the time. I realized that it was odd for me to be able to distinguish his voice. I was accustomed to listening to general conference, Church Educational System firesides, and other Church broadcasts through the voice of a Spanish interpreter speaking over the speaker’s voice. Yet somehow I knew the voice on the radio was that of President Hinckley.
I wasn’t yet fluent enough in English to understand what he was saying, but I listened to the talk on the radio anyway. His voice brought a feeling of peace. When the talk ended, the radio announcer said, “We have just heard President Gordon B. Hinckley.”
I knew that the Lord speaks through His servants and that whether the message comes by His voice or that of His prophets, it is the same (see D&C 1:38).
I thought about how unusual it was that I had recognized President Hinckley’s voice. Having done so made me realize that I always want to be able to recognize the voice the Lord uses to communicate with His children—regardless of the source.
“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me,” the Savior said (John 10:27).
In a world filled with many voices—many “stations”—to flip through, I hope I can always be attuned to recognize the voice of my Shepherd and His servants and to be willing to follow their counsel.

Mark combed his hair carefully. His baseball heroes seemed to look on with approval from the posters covering his bedroom walls.
“Everyone into the van,” Mom called from downstairs. “We don’t want to be late for church.”
Mark put down his comb and turned to leave. He stopped short. Staring him straight in the eye from the picture on his bedroom door was another of his heroes—Captain Moroni. I almost forgot! he said to himself. He went back and grabbed his scriptures from under a stack of baseball cards.
Brother Barton, Mark’s Primary teacher, was really cool. He’d returned from his mission a year ago and often told them, “Brethren (he always called them brethren), before you know it, you’ll be on your missions. Studying the scriptures is a great way to prepare.” Brother Barton made scripture study fun, and Mark especially loved reading the Book of Mormon.
A brisk hot breeze ruffled his hair as he climbed into the van. As it slowly went down the gravel driveway, Mom observed, “Everything’s so dry.” Through the open window, Mark could hear the tall, straw-like grass rattle nervously in the wind. Even the manzanita bushes and oak trees looked thirsty. In the summer, wildfires were a way of life in their rural area, but this year, after several dry winters, the fire danger was extremely high.
“It looks like there’s a fire over in Acorn Valley,” Dad said. Mark turned and spotted the thin, black feather of smoke.
“The firefighters are well trained,” Mom said confidently. “They’ll have it out before long.”
But by the time they got to the meetinghouse, the smoke plume had grown much wider. Mark became more and more alarmed as he heard bits and pieces of anxious conversations in the foyer:
“This wind is spreading the fire …”
“… having trouble controlling …”
“… alerting crews from all over …”
As Mark stepped into the classroom, Brother Barton smiled at him, and Mark relaxed a little.
After the opening prayer, Brother Barton said, “Let’s turn to 3 Nephi 13:21.” [3 Ne. 13:21] He waited until everyone had found the right place, then read, “‘For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.’”
He closed his scriptures. “After Lehi and his family left their home in Jerusalem, the Lord told Lehi to have his sons return. Why?”
“To get the brass plates,” one of the boys answered.
“Right. The brass plates contained scriptures and their genealogy,” Brother Barton explained. “The plates were a precious treasure to Lehi’s family. They gave up their gold and silver and even risked their lives to get them.” He looked right at Mark as he asked, “Brethren, how about you? What’s important to you?”
As Mark thought of his baseball cards and his mitt, Brother Barton continued, “Are the things of the world more important to you than the things of the spirit? Brethren, where is your heart? What is your treasure?”
On the way to sacrament meeting, Mark was still thinking about what his teacher had said. What is my treasure? Then he noticed the concerned faces of the people in the half-full chapel. Tensing up, he remembered the fire and found it very hard to concentrate.
After the sacrament, the bishop was handed a note. “The wind has shifted,” he somberly announced, “and the fire is now threatening Wildwood Acres.” There were a few gasps. Mark knew many of the ward members lived in that community. And it wasn’t far from his own home!
“We’ll dismiss early today, brothers and sisters. For those who need it, an evacuation center will be set up here at the church.”
Evacuate! A couple of weeks ago, Mom had given a family home evening lesson on being prepared for emergencies. Mark thought of the hours he, his dad, and his brothers had spent clearing a thirty-foot strip of weeds from around their house. Would it be enough to save their home if the fire kept spreading?
Mark’s family hurried out to the van. The smoke now billowed like a black thundercloud in the distance. Airplanes heavy with fire retardant roared overhead. Fire engines screamed past them.
On the radio came the report: “The fire has already burned through hundreds of acres, and several homes have been lost.” No one in the van had much to say.
As they turned onto their street, they were stopped by a roadblock. The highway patrol car’s lights were flashing alarmingly. Walking over to the van, a uniformed officer spoke to dad. “This area’s been evacuated, sir.” Mark’s stomach muscles tightened even more. He could hear the wail of sirens echoing through the valley.
“But we live just three houses down,” Dad told him.
The officer hesitated, looked at his watch, and said, “We can give you twenty minutes to get what you can out of your home, but then you’ll have to leave.”
Dad’s face was grim as he drove past the roadblock. “Do you all remember what you were assigned to save in an emergency?” Everyone nodded. “If there’s still time after we get the essential things out, you can each fill a small box with whatever you want to take.”
The moment the van screeched to a stop, everyone dashed for the front door. The smoke-filled air made breathing unpleasant. Just over the hill, flames like the tongues of a dozen dragons licked the horizon.
Working quickly, the family loaded financial papers, family records, journals, and photo albums into the van. They added their 72-hour emergency kit from the house to the one already in the car, sleeping bags, extra changes of clothes, and additional food. Mark carefully wrapped the old family Bible in a towel and placed it in the van, then he grabbed an empty box and sprinted to his room.
What should he take? The words of the scripture kept repeating in his mind: “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” He quickly stuffed his baseball mitt and three of his best baseball card albums into the box.
Then he remembered Brother Barton’s words, “Are the things of the world more important to you than the things of the spirit?” Fragments of the story of Lehi’s family came to mind. They left their home. They went back for the brass plates. The plates were precious treasure.
“We have to leave right now!” Dad shouted.
As Mark hurried down the stairs, his eyes rested on his scriptures, which he’d left on the hallway table. He quickly picked them up and placed them in the box.
The road was crowded with cars and trucks loaded with furniture and belongings. The traffic slowed when it passed the dramatic sight of walls of fire boiling down the hillside.
Mom softly said, “I’m so grateful that our family is together and safe and that we were able to save our most important things.”
A soothing, peaceful feeling filled Mark’s heart. He glanced down at his scriptures. And I got to save my treasure too. He knew that somehow everything would be all right.

The day President Howard W. Hunter died was a memorable one for all the Hinckley grandchildren. They were saddened that President Hunter had served such a short time. And they were a little apprehensive because of the great responsibility their grandfather would take on. They knew that as President of the Quorum of the Twelve, their grandfather would become the next President of the Church.

Joseph and Spencer Hinckley were on a backpacking trip with their dad. “We were driving into a town,” says Joseph. “All the flags were at half-mast. As soon as he saw the flags, Dad knew exactly what had happened. He kind of took a deep breath.”

At the solemn assembly when President Hinckley was sustained as the prophet by the Church membership, all the grandchildren stood at the appropriate times and raised their hands to sustain the new President. “It was an amazing experience,” says Ada Hinckley, age 16, “to raise your hand to the square and sustain the prophet of the Church, who is also your grandpa. When they sing, ‘We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,’ you are just kind of taken aback because they are singing about your grandfather.”
Ada found that the very experience that helped a lot of young people in the Church also helped her gain a testimony that her grandfather was indeed the Lord’s prophet. She attended a general Young Women meeting in which the theme was gaining a testimony of the prophet. “It helped me a lot to gain a testimony that he is a prophet and that he leads the Church. I know he does.”
Katie says, “I sustain him as the prophet, not as my grandpa. With or without the prophet being my grandfather, I have to know for myself if the Church is true. I do.”
Did they notice a difference in their grandfather after he was sustained as the President of the Church? James answers, “At first he was really quiet and just humbled.”
“He spent more time alone,” says Ada. “I think humble is a good word. It’s cool when I hear people talk about him, and they don’t know I’m related. People just love him.”
Jessica notices a difference most when he is speaking. “At conference, you can see the mantle of his calling on him.”
Amy agrees, “He’ll be giving a talk, and he’ll be saying amazing things. I think, ‘Wow.’ When we visit him at his office, then I see him as both. Then he is Grandpa and the prophet at the same time.”
Even though their grandfather gets to meet with important and influential people and leaders, he sees people just as they are. “When he has met the president of the United States or someone like that,” says Amy, “we ask, ‘Are you excited?’ He says, ‘He’s just a man.’ He doesn’t see the different levels or positions of authority. He just sees everyone as equal. If he meets a president or a housewife, he reacts the same way.”
“Yes,” adds James, “he has respect for everyone.”
Ask any of the grandchildren if their grandfather, the prophet, understands what it is like for teenagers today, and they will answer quickly and confidently. “He is never negative about our generation,” says Katie. “He’s really positive. I think sometimes he wishes he were young.”
“Is he in touch with the younger generation?” Spencer asks and then answers. “Yes, because of us.”
“He knows us,” says Ann. “And he knows what we’re involved in and what our pressures are and what our joys are. He knows what’s hard for us and what’s easy.”
Just as he does for his own grandchildren, the prophet prays for the young people of the Church. And he knows that every day in every temple the youth of the Church are prayed for specifically. The advice he gives to his grandchildren is great advice for all youth: Do the best you can. Work hard. Do what is right.
When Jessica attended a class at Ricks College, no one except her close friends knew who her grandfather was. The teacher asked if any of those attending had met President Hinckley or any of the General Authorities. Jessica did not raise her hand. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed. She just wanted to hear what other people had to say. “I was interested that people loved seeing him at temple dedications or conferences.”
“How lucky I am,” says Ann, “that I know him as a person, as a grandfather, and as a prophet! What an amazing thing that is!”

Let me say something of the marvelous members of the Church themselves. In the reorganization of a rather far-flung stake recently, I felt the Lord’s prompting to call a man to the stake presidency who, I had been told, owned a bicycle but no automobile. Many leaders across the Church don’t have cars, but I was nevertheless worried about what that might mean for this man in this particular stake. In my terminally ill Spanish I pursued the interview, then said, “Hermano, ¿no tiene un auto?” With a smile and not a second’s hesitation he replied, “No tengo un auto; pero yo tengo pies, yo tengo fe.” (“I do not have a car, but I do have feet and I do have faith.”) He then said he could ride the bus, ride his bicycle, or walk, “como los misioneros,” he smiled—“like the missionaries.” And so he does.

Just as she had felt, Florence found that Christopher Chukwurah shared her hunger for spiritual things. Together they investigated a number of churches, fasting and praying together regularly.

Christopher also shared her desire for education. He had a bachelor’s degree in political science and information sciences, and shortly after he and Florence married, they left Nigeria for the United States. Christopher earned a master’s degree in educational administration from Illinois State University. Florence studied psychology part-time and worked in several hospitals.

They returned to Nigeria in 1977, still uncommitted to any one religion. By 1981, they were weary of moving from church to church.

Over the years, the Chukwurahs had developed the tradition of holding a special family fast on the last day of each year. On New Year’s Eve, 31 December 1981, the purpose of their fast was to seek guidance in finding a church they could remain in throughout their lives.

Just nine days later, Florence was preparing a meal in the kitchen and Christopher was preparing a lecture for a college class when both received an impression in answer to their prayers. “I had this persistent feeling that we should visit a family friend of ours. When I told my husband, he said, ‘I have the same feeling. Can we go right now?’”

When they arrived at the home of their friend, they were surprised when he offered them a soft drink instead of the more usual beer. He explained that because he and his wife now belonged to a church called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they no longer drank alcohol or smoked.

“My husband and I looked at each other,” recalls Sister Chukwurah. “We love each other so dearly that we can speak with our eyes. After looking into each other’s eyes, we immediately asked, ‘How can we become members of this church?’”

After receiving the missionary discussions, the Chukwurahs were baptized in February 1982.

One of Sam Potaka’s daughters, Una Tsaclis, had become a family history expert. She had researched hundreds of ancestors, including her husband’s Greek progenitors. Because there are few members of the Church in Greece, her family history work was unique.
My wife and I were invited to go to the New Zealand temple with Una and other family members to perform sealings for their ancestors. It was an unforgettable temple experience. We realized that not only had many family members joined the Church because a good man listened to the Spirit and gave a ride to two missionaries, but now those family members and their children were performing temple ordinances for hundreds of Greek and Maori ancestors who had passed away without the opportunity of hearing the gospel. The Lord’s mathematics multiplies the opportunities to share and accept the gospel both in this life and after death.

I previously mentioned pornography. It easily becomes an addiction of the worst kind. Let me read to you from a letter I received from a victim:

“I would like to share something with you that I have not been able to share with anyone else. I am a 35-year-old male. For most of my adult life I have been addicted to pornography. I am very ashamed to admit this, … but for the most part, my addiction is as real as that of an alcoholic or a drug addict. …

“The main reason for my writing is to tell you that the Church can’t do enough to counsel the members to avoid pornography. I was first introduced to this material as a child. I was molested by an older male cousin, and pornography was used to attract my interest. I am convinced that this exposure at an early age to sex and pornography is at the root of my addiction today.

“I think it is ironic that those who support the business of pornography say that it is a matter of freedom of expression. I have no freedom. I have lost my free agency because I have been unable to overcome this. It is a trap for me, and I can’t seem to get out of it. Please, please, please plead with the brethren of the Church not only to avoid but eliminate the sources of pornographic material in their lives. Besides the obvious things like books and magazines, they need to turn off cable movie channels in their homes. I know many who have these services and claim that they are able to screen the bad things out, but this is not true. …

“Pornography and perversion have become so commonplace in our lives that the sources of this material are everywhere. I have found pornographic magazines by the roadside and in dumps. We need to talk to our children and explain how evil these things are and encourage them to avoid looking at them when they come across them. …

“Finally, President Hinckley, please pray for me and others in the Church who may be like me to have the courage and strength to overcome this terrible affliction.

“I am unable to sign my name, and I hope that you will understand.”

On one occasion a girl was trying to decide whether or not to marry a certain individual and was confused because at times she felt doubt and uncertainty and at other times was certain she wanted to marry him. When they were together it seemed right, but when she was alone or away from him, there was much doubt and uncertainty. We talked about many things: the kind of person she wanted to marry, the element of trust in marriage, possible reasons for her doubt, and why at times it seemed all right. Toward the end of the conversation she was asked to consider what she really felt was the right thing to do. After a few moments she observed that she had really known all along it wasn’t right but had just put aside those feelings. One must follow the counsel of Mormon and “search diligently in the light of Christ that ye may know good from evil. …” He then promised, “… if ye will lay hold upon every good thing, and condemn it not, ye certainly will be a child of Christ.” (Moro. 7:19.)

Thanks to 150 young people in the Dallas East Stake, some long-gone residents of Texas will not be forgotten. The youth spent their three-day youth conference cleaning up the local Oakland Cemetery and extracting names from the headstones. In all, they submitted 2,500 names to the Family History Department.
Howard Hooper, an administrator at the cemetery, had this to say about their efforts: “I had lived perfectly convinced that all the young people of today are soft, spoiled, pampered and definitely irresponsible. But your visit to the Oakland Cemetery has taught me much. Your demonstrating your amazing vim, vigor, and vitality, plus your daring bravery against fire ants from Mars, showed me that if you are soft, spoiled, and pampered, you are doing a good job of hiding the fact.”

Ramón jingled the coins in his pocket as he finished selling his chickens’ eggs at the village market. He thought about the jar at home that held his tithing coins. On Sunday he was going to give the coins to the bishop. Ramón had a warm feeling inside. He was glad to pay tithing.
The market stalls were full of things for sale. Ramón saw a colorful shirt with the logo of his favorite soccer team. He pictured himself wearing the shirt, running down the field, and scoring the winning goal. Ramón looked at the price tag. He could buy the shirt if he spent all his egg money plus his tithing coins.
Ramón noticed the warm feeling was gone. He really wanted the shirt, but he knew Heavenly Father wouldn’t want him to spend his tithing coins. Ramón started walking home. He decided to pay his tithing first. Then he could earn more money selling eggs until he could buy the shirt and pay his tithing like the Lord wanted him to.

Dr. Neal Halfon, a physician who directs the UCLA Center for Healthier Children, Families, and Communities, refers to “parental benign neglect.” One example involved an 18-month-old and his parents:
“‘Their son seemed happy, active and engaged, clearly enjoying time and pizza with his parents. … At the end of dinner, Mom got up to run an errand, handing over care to Dad.’
“Dad … started reading phone messages while the toddler struggled to get his attention by throwing bits of pizza crust. Then the dad re-engaged, facing his child and playing with him. Soon, though, he substituted watching a video on his phone with the toddler until his wife returned.
“… [Dr.] Halfon observed a dimming of the child’s internal light, a lessening of the connection between parent and child.”5

One Saturday in the middle of winter, my wife and I took advantage of a sunny but cold day to get to know our neighborhood better. We had recently moved thousands of miles from our home to the East Coast of the United States to pursue educational and career opportunities.
We decided to walk to a nearby university neither of us had visited. In time we found the university’s main library. We enjoy reading, and my wife, a graduate student, was curious to see what resources she might find for her studies. Because she was studying religious history, we browsed the stacks of the library’s religion section. As we glanced at some of the interesting titles, a small book with a familiar blue cover caught my eye.
“They have a Book of Mormon here!” I excitedly whispered.
I took the book from the shelf. It was an older copy, and I wondered how long it had been there. What really caught my attention was a small insert glued inside the front cover.
The insert was a brief testimony by a couple from Blackfoot, Idaho, USA. In their testimony, they explained what the Book of Mormon is and why it is important. They shared a brief but powerful testimony of the book, and they invited the reader to pray to know whether it was true.
Their words were simple, but their message went straight to my heart. Perhaps this couple meant for their testimony to be read by those not of our faith. Perhaps they had given this copy to someone they knew. Who knows how many times it had changed hands or how many miles it traveled to end up at the university library?
As I held the book in my hands, the Spirit filled my heart. For a moment, I felt my burdens wash away in the warmth of the Savior’s love.
That day in the library continues to remind me of the blessings I receive by reading the Book of Mormon and of the importance of sharing my testimony of it. Our testimonies may fall “upon stony places” or “into good ground” (see Matthew 13:3–9), but it is important that we share them. God will make sure they get delivered at the right time, in the right place, and to the right people.