Gospel Story Finder

I was born and raised in the Church but chose inactivity in my 20s. I married a good man who was not active in his own faith either. As John and I began our family, which would eventually include five children, my heart began to yearn for the teachings of my youth. I did not pressure John, but he agreed to worship with me and our two sons, John Rowe and Joseph. We began attending our ward every Sunday. The missionaries taught John, who embraced the gospel and was baptized three months later.
We became active members of our ward, fulfilling callings in different auxiliaries. Three more children—Hayley, Tessa, and Jenna—came to our family, and all five thrived in Primary, Activity Days, and Scouting. Over the next decade, John and I took the temple-preparation classes three different times, but they never resulted in our going to the temple. We wanted our family to be sealed, but we didn’t feel ready to live all of the commandments. We were attending church regularly and obeying most of the commandments—that was good enough, wasn’t it? Besides, our children didn’t really know the difference.
We soon realized that wasn’t actually the case. As we tucked him into bed each night, our oldest son began asking when our family was going to the temple. That tugged at our heartstrings.
About this time our bishop invited my husband and me to his office. He wanted to know why we had not committed to making temple blessings a reality for our family. We explained that we weren’t ready to live all of the commandments required for receiving a temple recommend and that we felt we were already doing our best.
As bishops had done before, Bishop Riding counseled us about the importance of these ordinances and the eternal blessings available to our family. But then something happened that I will never forget. Bishop Riding sat quietly for several seconds before saying softly, “I feel impressed to tell you that the time for you to go to the temple is now. The window of opportunity is closing for your family.”
We didn’t know all of the implications of the bishop’s comment, but we instantly felt the Spirit confirm its truth. We realized not only that the temple would bless us eternally but that our sealing could also help our children as they grew older and started making important decisions for their lives.
John and I left the bishop’s office that evening with a new sense of urgency. We set specific goals and a target date for our temple endowment and sealing. From then on we wholeheartedly tried to live all of the commandments—not just the ones we were comfortable with. In addition, we devoted consistent effort to prayer and scripture study and served with more fervor in our callings. As we made these sacrifices, we saw many blessings come into our lives.
When we did struggle, we encouraged each other. I remember one particular night when my husband sensed I was feeling a little bit apprehensive. He read a passage from President Boyd K. Packer’s The Holy Temple,1 which we had been studying together. The words he shared broadened my vision and calmed my fears.
Bishop Riding continued to encourage us, as did ward members. A friend gave us a copy of the Temples booklet, which we pored over. The teachers of our temple-preparation class answered our questions and reached out in kindness and fellowship, and many ward members provided good examples of temple worthiness.
Each night as we tucked our children into bed, we confidently told them yes, our family was going to go to the temple. As the time drew closer, we were able to give them a specific date.
On April 17, 1998, about six months after that life-changing day in our bishop’s office, John and I knelt at the altar of the Dallas Texas Temple with our five children. Many friends from our ward attended, and through their support I realized how eager they were for us to enjoy the blessings they knew in their own families. Without question, our sealing has been the single most important event in our life.
To my husband and me, the effects of our sealing seemed very tangible. For instance, we noticed a change in the atmosphere in our home, particularly in our children. They seemed more obedient, and while they weren’t perfect, they did consistently strive to make good choices and follow the commandments. We experienced an increase in family unity too.
As rich as those blessings were, the reality of temple blessings became especially poignant in 2007. The morning of October 21, our twins, then 17, were in a car accident. Tessa sustained minor injuries, but Jenna’s condition was serious. She was taken to an area hospital, where she lay in a coma. When we learned she might not live, our three oldest children returned from college. As we spent the next days together in Jenna’s hospital room, our family took great comfort in the ordinances that will allow us to be together after death. We spent time talking about the eternal nature of families—of our family. A week after the accident, Jenna passed away.
Our temple covenants have become even more important to us since her death. We miss Jenna terribly and long for the day when we can be together again, but our faith in the plan of salvation and our testimony of eternal families sustain us. We display in our home a picture of our family at the temple, which reminds us of our experience and the promises we know can be ours.
We are grateful for faithful priesthood leaders who counseled with us, particularly for a good bishop who followed a prompting that led to eternal blessings for our family. We are grateful for friends and ward members who encouraged us along the way and who provided good examples for us to follow. Most of all, we are grateful to a loving Heavenly Father, who has made it possible for “family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave” through the gift of His Son and through temple ordinances.2

I felt like I was drowning.
I was recovering from sinus surgery and was experiencing more complications than I had expected.
I had a fever, I couldn’t breathe through my nose, I couldn’t get my nose to stop bleeding, I was extremely dizzy, and the pain from the pressure in my head was almost unbearable.
I started panicking from the discomfort. This surgery was a new addition to my list of the worst experiences I had ever had.
Tears rolled down my face as I laid miserably on my couch.
That’s when my sweet husband, Jeffrey, came to sit by me. He handed me a tissue, took my hand, and asked, “What do you need?”
“A blessing,” I immediately answered.
Throughout my life, I have sought for the miracles Heavenly Father can provide. As a child, I learned about miracle-filled stories like Moses parting the Red Sea or Nephi retrieving the brass plates or the Savior healing others from incurable ailments. I always believed that God could also give me miracles like these, no questions asked.
However, as I grow older, I tend to hyperfocus on and long for miracles like those in the scriptures. Miracles that are instantaneous, tangible, and massive.
Much to my chagrin sometimes, no matter how much I strive to keep my covenants and exercise faith, it seems these types of miracles are a rarity. When my expectations for life are unmet and I am running out of patience while waiting on the Lord, my once-blossoming faith in miracles starts to wither.
I was feeling this withering faith regarding expectations about life around the time of this surgery.
So, when Jeffrey laid his hands on my head to offer me a priesthood blessing, imagine my surprise when he said, “As our prophet has taught, ‘seek and expect miracles’1 in this healing process and in life.”
Tears filled my eyes when I heard those words. I was desperate to feel relief, and I had faith in priesthood blessings, so I was hoping that being told to “expect miracles” meant I would feel instantly better. But Heavenly Father wanted me to learn something more.
I wasn’t healed immediately after that blessing.
However, in the minutes following, I felt peace, despite my pain. I pondered the words I had heard and started to recognize miracles I had already experienced since surgery.
I had felt strength beyond my own sustaining me through days of discomfort. I believed in my heart that the Savior understood the pain I was in (see Alma 7:11:), which deepened my gratitude for Him.
Another miracle was God’s power of the priesthood, my ability to call on Him for help, and Jeffrey’s ability to exercise that priesthood.
I also realized I had witnessed miracles of light as family and friends had reached out with love. A few even traveled far distances just to bring me a loaf of bread, a book, or a handwritten note (three of my favorite things).
This got me thinking—what miracles do I miss every day when I am too fixated on the Red Sea–sized miracles I long for?
I’ve realized that instead of waiting for earth-shattering miracles, I can seek and especially expect the small and simple miracles He and Heavenly Father shower me with daily—which are actually the big miracles (see Alma 37:6).
Each day of recovery after that blessing, I made a note of small miracles I experienced, from eased pain to waning dizziness to gratitude for my Savior. This made such a difference in my healing process and in my everyday faith.
Although I may always face health (and other) challenges that make life more tedious at times, my testimony continues to be refined as I look and reach for the Savior’s steady, reassuring hand each day. I have felt a new sense of determination to keep believing in, seeking, and expecting miracles, both big and small, trusting in His and Heavenly Father’s timing and way.

If you get into an argument with a family member, hug and make up! Ezra A. from Australia, says, “When you get into a fight, rather than keeping a grudge, just be a bigger person and say sorry—straight afterward. One time I was fighting with my sister. We had a big argument, and instead of holding a grudge I just said sorry and ended it there. It felt good to get rid of the anger and not feel a grudge anymore.”

About two years ago, when I was 16 years old, I noticed that one of the value experiences in my Young Women Personal Progress book was to learn about the importance of patriarchal blessings.
I began to study everything I could find on patriarchal blessings. When I finished, I realized that by receiving a patriarchal blessing I could know my lineage and learn what the Lord desires of me, the blessings he has prepared for me, and what I have to do to receive them. I decided to ask my bishop to interview me for a recommend to receive a patriarchal blessing.
On 19 April 1995, I went to the patriarch’s home in our stake in Buenos Aires, Argentina. As he put his hands on my head, I felt absolute peace. A shiver ran through my whole body, and I felt great joy. Many times I had used the word joy as a synonym for happiness, but at that moment, I realized that joy is much more than mere happiness. Joy is a feeling so different from all others and so special that it cannot be imagined. To know what it is, one has to experience it.
When the patriarch finished the blessing, one tear after another ran down my cheeks. The patriarch, too, had tears in his eyes. I thanked him for having served as intermediary between the Lord and me. As I left, I couldn’t stop feeling how beautiful the experience had been and how I wanted everyone to have it.
I am grateful for the responsibilities the Lord has given me. I know the promises and warnings in my blessing are the will of my Father in Heaven for me, and I know that as I am faithful he will be at my side, helping me to overcome my weaknesses.
I know now that patriarchal blessings can be guides for our lives, just as the Liahona was a guide in ancient times. If we follow the instructions we are given, we can “continue in the way which is narrow, until [we] shall obtain eternal life” (Jacob 6:11).

In 1957, we were sealed in the Swiss Temple with our children. It was a wonderful experience for us—and a very important one. My husband was ill. After two difficult operations, we were told that he could not live.
Yet those last days of his life were, in spite of everything, almost happy. There were times when we felt pure joy at having been able to receive the gift of the gospel, times when we rejoiced with tears of gratitude that his coming death would not separate us forever.

The summer before my senior year in high school, I decided to participate in my hometown’s Olympic-length triathlon. I had always been a runner, so the 10 kilometer run portion didn’t worry me too much. And I liked cycling, even though 40 kilometers seemed like a long time to be on a bike. What I was really concerned about was the 1.5-kilometer swim, but as I trained over the summer, I became more confident in all three events.
The night before the race my dad helped me set up my swim-to-bike transition. We made sure everything was placed just right, so I could get to biking as quickly as possible after I got out of the water.
At 7:00 the next morning, I jumped into the cold river to begin the race. In less than 30 minutes I was out of the water and getting ready to begin the bike course.
Thousands of people were competing, and even more people were there to cheer the racers on. I knew my family members and friends were along the course somewhere, but I didn’t know where, and I didn’t think I could pick their voices out of the large cheering crowd surrounding the transition zone. Just as I was about to hop on my bike, a voice cut through the noise.
“Heather, the chain is off your bike. Heather, put your chain back on. The chain is off your bike.”
It was different from all the other voices that were yelling and cheering the triathletes on. That voice stood out to me because I knew and trusted that voice. It was the voice of my high school cross-country coach. I looked down, and sure enough, my chain was off. I quickly put it back on and began riding. A few hours later I had successfully completed my first Olympic-length triathlon.
Had I not heard my coach, I would have figured out pretty quickly that the chain was off my bike. But I probably would have figured it out with my right foot clipped into my pedal pushing down hard to get my momentum going. Without the anticipated resistance from my chain plus my predisposition to being accident prone, I most likely would have fallen over onto the pavement. It wouldn’t be a race-ending or even a serious injury, but I would have had a skinned-up knee and elbow, along with a big hole poked in my confidence. I was grateful for my coach.
That day on the triathlon course, my parents were at the race supporting me, but they couldn’t be everywhere. I needed help from someone else, in this case my coach, who saw what I didn’t notice. The Spirit can be that someone for us wherever and whenever we are worthy and willing to listen. And if we listen and obey, we will successfully “run … the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).

Dear Reed or Elder May,
I miss you. I miss you very much! I miss you, very, very much! Do I have to call you Elder May, or can I still call you Reed? I’m glad that you got out of the empty sea. I was worried about you drowning or something. When I asked her, Mom laughed and said that you were fine there, but I was still worried.
I have something that I want to tell you. But maybe I’d better not tell you.
Please write a letter just to me.
Love,Brad
Dear Buddy,
I miss you, too—very much! When I think of how much you will grow and change in two years, sometimes it makes me a little sad that I can’t be there with you. But I know that I’m doing the right thing by going on a mission. Besides, the elders here who are almost ready to go home all say that two years zoom by so fast that you can hardly believe it.
To answer your question, yes, you can still call me Reed instead of Elder May. But do I have to start calling you Brad now, or can I still call you Buddy?
Buddy, I have to admit that I was puzzled for a long time about what you meant by the “empty sea.” Then yesterday I told Elder Watts, my companion, that you were worried about me in the empty sea, and all of a sudden it came to me! Where I was, was not the empty sea, but the MTC. That stands for Missionary Training Center. That’s where I learned about being a missionary and how to teach people the gospel.
The MTC was a good experience, but I’m glad to be in the mission field now. The members here are friendly, and some of them help us a lot. We are teaching some great families. Elder Watts is a hard worker, and we spend a lot of hours trying to find people who want to learn about the restoration of the gospel and the Church.
Write to me again soon. I want to keep in touch and know everything that happens to you, kind of like our talks in the dark across the bedroom as we were going to sleep. Only now we will have our talks by writing letters.
And remember, you can tell me anything, just like always.
Love,Reed
Dear Reed,
It was awesome to get my very own letter from you. I’ll keep writing to you, if you’ll keep writing to me. But I still miss you very, very much! Nobody else calls me Buddy, but you can because I will always be your buddy.
Last night was our second grade Spring Sing. Everyone was there but you. Even Grandpa Richards was there, and your girlfriend Kelly. She says that she misses you very much, but I know that she doesn’t miss you as much as I do.
After the Sing we went to get ice-cream cones, and we talked about you. Mom and Dad said that you seem grown-up now. Natalie and Rachel said that they’re proud to be the sisters of a missionary. Scooter didn’t say anything because he’s too young.
I ate two scoops on my cone, one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of your favorite, pralines-and-cream. I did it for you.
I still have something I need to tell you, but I’m still afraid to tell you.
Love,Buddy
Dear Reed,
I know that I just wrote to you yesterday, but I have to write to you again today. If you were home, we could talk about it, but you’re not here.
Last night Melissa came to our house. She brought chocolate chip cookies that she made. She gave me a big hug and said that I look just like a little Reed, like somebody took you and let some of the air out. She’s pretty! Anyway, she says that she misses you very much.
Tell me, Reed, does Melissa know about Kelly? Does Kelly know about Melissa? What am I supposed to do with all your girlfriends? What if they both come over at the same time?
I told Melissa that she should send some chocolate chip cookies to you. I can’t tell you what she said because she wants it to be a surprise. If I can figure out a way to do it, I’ll send you some pralines-and-cream ice cream too.
Maybe next time I’ll tell you my secret problem.
Love,Buddy
(To be continued)

Second, prior to the creation of the Toronto Ontario Stake in 1960, Elder ElRay L. Christiansen, then an Assistant to the Council of the Twelve, recounted for the benefit of priesthood leaders a lesson from his own life when he was called to preside over the East Cache Stake in Logan, Utah. He mentioned that he and his counselors met to discuss what the stake members most needed and which principles of the gospel the stake presidency should stress. Their opinions varied from sacrament meeting attendance to observance of the Sabbath day, with a lot of territory in between. At length they agreed that the principle most needed was spirituality. They appreciated the truth found in the observation: When one deals in generalities, he will rarely have a success; but when he deals in specifics, he will rarely have a failure.
The four-year plan of President Christiansen and his counselors was refined in a splendid fashion. Year one: We shall increase the spirituality of the membership of the East Cache Stake by every family having family prayer. Year two: We shall increase the spirituality of the membership of the East Cache Stake by every member attending sacrament meeting weekly. Year three: We shall increase the spirituality of the membership of the East Cache Stake by each member paying an honest tithing. Year four: We shall increase the spirituality of the membership of the East Cache Stake by each member honoring the Sabbath day and keeping it holy. Each was the theme for the entire year; emphasis was given constantly.
After the four-year program was concluded, all four of the specific objectives had been attained, but of even greater significance, the spirituality of the membership of the East Cache Stake had shown marked improvement.

We didn’t see them, but we know that angels were with us on May 21, 2021. My husband was on his way home from work when he felt a strong impression to get home quickly. When he arrived at home, he sat with me on the porch where I was working on an online assignment. We had been talking for a few minutes when we heard a thumping noise. We ran to the bedroom where our 4-year-old daughter, Selena, had been playing on her bed next to the window, only to find that she was not there. Where was she? The screen was broken. She had fallen out of the window a long way to the ground! We found her under the house; my husband scooped her up in his arms and said that we needed to get her some water quickly. She was not crying until she saw how worried we were.
I took her and held her close to my chest, thanking God for saving her life. I was grateful that she was not even badly injured. I felt inspired to take her to the water faucet and get her wet, tap her body all over, massage her, and give her something to drink, which I did. When we brought her into the house and my husband gave her a priesthood blessing, I opened my eyes to see Selena with her eyes closed, reverently receiving her blessing.
A nurse came by to check her heart and oxygen levels, and they were good. After that, the doctor examined her and declared, “Mummy she is okay, God was watching over her.” The only injuries she received from her fall were a few scratches on her arm. I thank God for his blessings and for this miracle in Selena’s life. All the glory and honor be to His mighty name!

As a young woman, I had planted myself upside down. My halfhearted efforts at attending church, paying tithing, and having regular prayer and scripture study had slowed my spiritual growth almost to a halt. In high school it became clear that I would need to choose between my current direction and the Lord’s direction. I then decided to replant myself, try my best, and rely on the Lord’s care.
With all my strength I began pushing up toward the Son, working my way past feelings of doubt, anger, insecurity, and selfishness. It wasn’t long before I realized how much Heavenly Father loves me, how much He has blessed me, and how much He wants me to reach my full potential as His daughter. I was given nourishment from Young Women leaders, bishops, seminary teachers, and friends. My righteous desire, however, was not without trials and tears. In His loving mercy, Heavenly Father gave me a push here and there when I felt that I could push no more. He helped me grow from my setbacks and successes. No sunflower, after having sensed the light of the sun, would bury itself back in the ground. I too could sense the light of the Son, and I would no longer hide myself from His goodness and joy. I would “follow the Son, with full purpose of heart” (2 Nephi 31:13).

Two ministering brothers felt a strong prompting to visit a man who has not been regular in church. As they resisted this prompting, it became stronger until they decided to follow the impression to visit the man in his home. On getting there, they knocked for several minutes without any response from the man. They thought that the man was not home and wondered if they should leave. Thankfully, they tarried a while and decided to knock again. This brother finally decided to open the door. On entering the room, they noticed the man was considering extreme self-harm. Those thoughts were immediately negated by the brethren as they were able to share the Savior’s love with him. Because they were mindful of their fellow man, they were able to hold up the Savior’s light, as instructed in 3 Nephi 18:24: “Hold up your light that it may shine unto to world. Behold I am the light which ye shall hold up”.

Sister Gayle Clegg of the Primary general presidency and her husband lived for a number of years in Brazil. Recently she had a Primary assignment in Japan. As she came into the chapel on Sunday, she noticed among the Japanese Saints a Brazilian family. “They just looked Brazilian,” she said. She only had a minute to greet them and found the mother and children very enthusiastic but noticed that the father was rather quiet. “I’ll have a chance to talk with them after the meeting,” she thought as she was quickly ushered to the stand. She delivered her message in English, which was translated into Japanese, and then she felt impressed to bear her testimony in Portuguese as well. She hesitated, as there were no translators for Portuguese and 98 percent of the people would not understand what she said.

After the meeting the Brazilian father came up to her and said, “Sister, the customs are so different here, and I have been lonely. It is difficult to come to church and not understand anything. Sometimes I wonder if I would be better off just reading my scriptures at home. I told my wife, ‘I’ll give it one more chance,’ and I came today for what I thought would be the last time. When you bore your testimony in Portuguese, the Spirit touched my heart, and I knew that this was where I belonged. God knows I am here, and He will help me.” And he joined the others in putting away the chairs.

Was it a coincidence that the only Portuguese-speaking member of the Primary presidency was sent to Japan instead of to Portugal? Or was it because the Lord knew someone there needed what only she could give—and she had the courage to follow a prompting of the Spirit? One of the great blessings of having a calling in the Church is that the Lord, through His Spirit, will inspire us to help those we are called to serve.

Mark’s sport was volleyball, and he was cut from the freshman team about the same time Matt was cut from the basketball team. Following his brother’s example, he decided not to quit but to work harder. “That’s another common ground we have as brothers; we’ve learned the value of work,” says Mark. And Mark had his work cut out for him. “I’m six feet, one inch, and as a middle blocker, I was up against a senior who is six feet, seven inches.” To compensate, he decided to become one of the best jumpers on the team. Like Matt, he trained incessantly. In fact, they worked out together.

Mark made the team. Then, during his junior year, “The coach told me I probably wasn’t going to get much varsity playing time, so he wanted me to play junior varsity as well. That way I’d get experience instead of just sitting on the bench. It helped a lot. By keeping my form right, I increased my vertical leap, and I got to work on it during actual competition.”

Mark also found another way to contribute. “I wanted to get the rest of the team to be more enthusiastic from the bench,” he says, “so I came up with lots of positive things to say and encouraged everybody to do the same thing.” Guess who won the Selleh award for the varsity volleyball team? The trophies sit side-by-side on a shelf in Matt and Mark’s bedroom.

Amherst Ward, Springfield Massachusetts Stake
My name is Nichole Jewkes, and I am eleven years old. I live in Belchertown, Massachusetts. I am one of only three Latter-day Saints in my middle school. This has been a big change for me because I just recently moved here from Utah. Since not many people in my school know about the Church, I have a great opportunity to do missionary work.
I wear my CTR ring to school every day. People look at my ring and ask what CTR stands for. I always reply, “Choose the right.” And they say, “Cool!” and move on.
One day, my friend Christine noticed my CTR ring and asked what it stands for. I answered, “Choose the right.” Christine said, “Wow! This is so cool!” Then she asked me where I had gotten it. I said that I got it from my church. She asked me how much one costs and if she could buy one. I said that I’d get one for her for free. She acted surprised and said, “Thank you so much.”
I got a CTR ring from my Primary president on Sunday and took it to school on Monday. Christine was very excited and said thank you so many times! She continued to wear it every day and was always telling me how neat it was and how much she loved it.
A few days later, another friend named Julie also noticed my CTR ring. She noticed that Christine had one, too. Julie thought they were neat and asked where we had gotten them. I asked her if she would like one, and she said, “Oh yes, please!”
Now when Julie sometimes says the Lord’s name in vain, she’ll remember and say, “Sorry.” And when older kids swear around me, she’ll say, “Don’t swear around Nichole; she doesn’t like it.” It is nice to know that even though my friends do not belong to our church, they are still trying to choose the right and stand up for me.
I have learned from living here and having many friends who are not LDS that most people are still really good people, trying to do good things with their lives. I hope the CTR rings continue to strengthen Julie and Christine and that I can continue to invite them to church and Church activities. I hope we can all continue to be good missionaries, no matter how old we are.

Another time, Elder Hales was at a stake conference. He was not feeling well. He planned to go home right after the meeting. But after the closing prayer, Elder Hales felt like he should stay and shake hands with everyone. When one young man came to shake his hand, Elder Hales felt like he should give him a special message. Later the stake president told Elder Hales that the young man was going through a hard time. Getting to talk to Elder Hales was a special experience for him. Elder Hales knew that the Holy Ghost had told him to stay and to talk to the young man.

Later the Spirit prompted me to visit Aunt Esther, whom I had not seen for a very long time. I found myself at her house without knowing why. During our conversation I talked to her about the family history work that Church members do. She got up and went to another part of the house. She brought back a box containing many papers she had been keeping but didn’t know what to do with. When she opened the box and started to show me what was there, I was astonished to see documents with the names, birth dates, and death dates of many family members, including grandparents, aunts, uncles, and others. How grateful I was to have the information I needed to begin doing family history work.

I played baseball, which I liked very much, and I played every day. Because I was very small, the mitts were too large. At that time in Mexico, we didn’t have small gloves, only big ones, so I used a big one. My middle finger is short now because I broke it many times playing baseball. I would just put a bandage around it and keep playing. My coach said, “When Horacio catches that ball, it never falls. It may be that the ball will knock Horacio down, but Horacio never drops the ball.” I played shortstop, catcher, and pitcher. I think that I was a good pitcher, because I had one game with no runs and no hits. I also played American football, but I had problems because I was so thin. I was hit very hard many times.
Even so, I realized then that nothing was impossible to do, if I wanted to do it. I think that I learned that lesson from my mother. She was a very special person. She worked in advertising in Mexico when only a few women worked for companies.
My grandfather was a military general during the Mexican Revolution. He was a very, very hard man, but he loved me. He taught me love for my country and for my flag. Every September we celebrated Mexican Independence Day at my grandparents’ home. We had a big dinner on September 15, then went to the parade on September 16.
I remember staying at my grandparents’ big house. They ate five meals a day. For breakfast, they had only hot chocolate and bread. Lunch was about eleven o’clock, and it included bread, meat, and beans. Dinner was at two or three o’clock in the afternoon. Supper was not until eleven at night. Children did not stay up for it.
Children in Mexico were taught to be respectful toward adults. I remember that at a reunion, children could attend only if they were invited. If a child wanted to talk, he had to ask permission.
The Lord preserved me in my years on the earth. When I was two, I had amoebas in my stomach. These microscopic animals in my stomach made holes in my intestines. The doctors said that I didn’t have a chance to live, but I got well and was all right.
Another time, my uncle, who was only three years older than I was, put me in a baby carriage and took me for a walk around the house. In front of the house was a road, and on the other side of the road was an irrigation canal. When he took me across the road, the carriage slid into the canal. It was empty at that time, but my uncle couldn’t get us out. My mother felt concern for me and began to call me. Then she looked for me in the house but couldn’t find me. She felt prompted to look on the road and in the canal. She found us and got us out of the canal just before the water started to come through the canal. Had she not listened to the Spirit, my uncle and I would have drowned.
We must realize that God lives and, as our Father, loves us. He doesn’t want us to suffer any harm. I testify that our Teacher, our Shepherd, is Christ, our best Friend, who clears up all our doubts. He heals our wounds and turns our pain into sweet experiences.

I have spoken on three or four occasions to the women of the Church during the past ten years. I have received in response to these various talks a substantial number of letters. I have kept some of them in a file marked “Unhappy Women.”
These letters have come from many areas. But they are all written in the same tone. I wish to read you a portion of one of them which was received only last week. The writer has granted me permission to do so. I will not disclose any names.
Said she: “I met my husband when he was a freshman. He was from a very active family with many years of service in the Church. He was so enthused about serving a mission. I thought we shared the gospel as our most important value in this life. We both enjoyed music and nature and had a high priority on gaining knowledge. We dated a few months, easily fell in love, and wrote to one another while he served an honorable mission. When he came back home, he got back into school and we were married in the Salt Lake Temple. We followed the counsel of Church leaders and began our family. I had been attending [the university] on an Honors at Entrance scholarship, but I became pregnant and sick and left school to devote my time and energy to my husband and infant son.
“For the next eighteen years I supported my husband while he finished school, got some work experience, and started his own business. We both served in leadership positions in the Church and community. We had five wonderful children. I taught the children the gospel, how to work, how to serve, how to communicate, and how to play the piano. I baked bread; canned peaches, apples, tomatoes; sewed dresses and quilts; cleaned house; and tended my flowers and vegetables. In many ways it seemed that we were an ideal family. Our relationship was sometimes sweet and sometimes difficult. Things were never perfect because I am not a perfect woman and he is not a perfect man, but many things were good. I did not expect perfection; I just kept trying.
“Then came the crash. About a year ago he decided that he never loved me and that our marriage was a mistake from the beginning. He was convinced that there was nothing in our relationship for him. He filed for divorce and moved out. ‘Wait,’ I kept saying. ‘Oh, no. Stop! Don’t do this. Why are you leaving? What is wrong? Please, talk to me. Look at our children. What of all our dreams? Remember our covenants. No, no! Divorce is not the answer.’ He would not hear me. I thought I would die.
“Now I am a single parent. What an enormous load of heartache, pain, and loneliness is behind that statement. It explains so much trauma and so much anger from my teenage sons. It explains so many tears from my little girls. It explains so many sleepless nights, so many family demands and needs. Why am I in this mess? What did I choose wrong? How will I ever get through school? How will I get through this week? Where is my husband? Where is the father of my children? I join the ranks of tired women whose husbands leave them. I have no money, no job. I have children to care for, bills to pay, and not much hope.”

The landscape was nothing like she was used to. Hot, dry, and not a snowflake in sight, Texas seemed almost like another planet to Kayli C. For a girl who grew up in Alaska, that’s an understandable reaction.

“In Alaska, during the summer we called our hot weather anything above 50 degrees,” Kayli said. “In Texas it was hard to breathe because it was so humid and hot outside.”

For Kayli, the weather shift from Alaska to Texas was only one change among many. Her dad had just died in an unexpected tragedy, and their mother was unable to care for Kayli and her two younger sisters. At the time, Kayli, now a junior in high school, was 13, and her younger sisters, Jada and Rhianna, were only 10 and 8.

Extended family decided that the best solution would be for the three siblings to move in with their older sister and her husband in Texas.

Even though Jenny, Kayli’s older sister, and Jenny’s husband, Matt, welcomed the three siblings with open arms, this was anything but an easy transition.

First there was the weather. There was also the fact that, to the small-town sisters, the huge schools of Texas were overwhelming.

And then there was this whole practice of attending church …

“I loved growing up in Alaska,” Kayli says. “I loved the snow and cold. I loved going outside. Everything was so pretty. And I loved ice skating, sledding, and all the winter stuff.”

She’s also quick to point out a few other things about life back in Alaska. “My friends and I saw that doing bad things was how you got popular. And to me, being popular was how you became happy. So I wasn’t headed in a good direction.”

One of Kayli’s friends became pregnant. Another got involved with drugs. Some of her other friends started becoming extremely negative all the time.

“I liked living in Alaska,” Kayli says again. “But I really have to wonder where my life would be if I’d stayed there. A lot of my friends in Alaska are not in a good place now.”

One important event in Kayli’s life happened before she was even walking and talking. While Kayli was still very young, her older sister Jenny met the missionaries in college and joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. After attending one year of college in Alaska, Jenny transferred to BYU–Idaho, where she met her husband, Matt. After graduation, Matt and Jenny moved to Texas.

When they took in the younger siblings, Matt and Jenny had two rules about religion: “The first was that they would attend church with us, as part of the family,” says Jenny. “The second rule was that Matt and I would never require them to be baptized or even to take the missionary lessons. That had to be their own choice.”

So, Kayli started attending church as well as midweek activities. At first, it didn’t really do much for her. “I attended, but I didn’t believe anything,” Kayli says. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

However, she began to notice something unusual. “Every time I went to church or youth activities, I’d be happy.”

After a couple years of noticing this, Kayli was ready to meet a very special friend.

“I met my friend Maddie when we moved to another part of Texas the summer before 10th grade,” Kayli says. “She introduced herself and became such a great example to me.”

Kayli says that Maddie always seems upbeat and joyful, even when times get tough. As their friendship grew, Kayli looked forward to attending Church meetings and activities more.

“Maddie is such a good friend,” Kayli says.

Photographs by Aubrey Stock

Another big influence in Kayli’s life was seminary. Unlike when she first attended church, this time Kayli truly started paying close attention to what was being taught. “The reason why I started paying attention in seminary is that the people around me were really good at answering questions and participating. I wanted to be a part of that.”

The stars were aligning, as they say. Between studying the Book of Mormon in seminary, seeing the gospel bring happiness to her older sister, brother-in-law, and others in the ward, and making some key friendships, Kayli was ready to say yes when Maddie asked if she’d like to take the missionary lessons at her house.

From there, things moved quickly. Kayli and her younger sister—who was asked independently and by a different friend to take the lessons at that friend’s house—decided to be baptized on the same day.

“In Alaska, my happiness came from hanging out with my friends and trying to be popular,” Kayli says. “Now my happiness comes from the gospel. I’ve learned so much from the members here. I’ve learned that happiness and light come through Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.”

Kayli’s testimony of the gospel grew, in large part, with a close study of the Book of Mormon in seminary. These days, the Book of Mormon is still just as important to her as ever. “The Book of Mormon is one of the main things that has been bringing me happiness,” she explains. “It’s changed me so much. I want others to feel that too and have been trying to share it.”

She carries the Book of Mormon with her everywhere she goes, including school. “There are so many things that kids at school do that drive the Spirit away, like using bad language or trying too hard to be popular,” Kayli says. “Keeping a Book of Mormon in my backpack helps me remember my goal: to keep the Spirit and share the positivity that the gospel brings us.”

She doesn’t know if her testimony would have had that chance to grow, though, if it hadn’t been for the faithful examples of Church members around her. “Members of the Church were a part of me being baptized,” she says. “Without their examples and spiritual light, I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything different in them and would have continued not paying attention to anything Church-related.”

Kayli and her siblings have definitely been through some hard times in the past. Yet Kayli has found hope for her future, and it’s a hope she wants to pass on to anybody else struggling through a hard time right now.

“Remember to press forward and keep focusing on the positive side of things,” Kayli says. “And if you’ve lost a loved one, remember that Heavenly Father has a plan for you and for others. We’ll be able to live with our families forever if we do what’s right.”

A hundred young people with their adult leaders in the Centralia Washington Stake reenacted the excursion of a handcart company. The group used authentic handcarts loaded with their food and supplies for overnight camping.
The route taken by the group had landmarks renamed to match the ones passed by the actual pioneers. These new pioneers were plagued by rain and cool weather, but they persevered. When faced with the possibility of calling off the event, the young people responded, “The pioneers did not give up and neither will we.”
It turned out to be a long, hard trip, yet some of the pioneering spirit took hold. Two large streams and many mud holes had to be navigated. At the top of a hill, several youth would run down and help the next cart make the top. It was a good experience to feel what the pioneers must have felt as they helped each other make it into camp.
At the end of the trek, the group met for a fireside and testimony meeting. Each of the 11 wards represented presented an original camp song. The next morning as the group looked down into a misty valley in Washington, they could feel the joy of accomplishment that the original pioneers must have felt as they arrived in their new home.