Gospel Story Finder

A word of caution may be in order here, however. A friend of mine named Doug lost his father in an automobile accident when he was about thirteen years old. Though he knew they meant well, it was difficult for him to hear his friends whose parents were still living say, “I know exactly how you feel.” The fact is they probably didn’t, and consequently their well-intentioned remarks sounded hard. A simple “I’m sorry” would have been more appropriate. Furthermore, Doug felt oppressed by those people who felt it was their duty to get him to “talk about it” every time they associated with him. Once he felt the concern and sympathy of his friends by their simple expressions of sympathy, he preferred to introduce the subject himself.

Last August, I had an important decision to make. I could either go to Young Women camp with my ward or attend a volleyball camp. I would be trying out for the volleyball team at school, and the volleyball camp was highly encouraged. It showed you were dedicated if you attended it. I had been praying about whether I should go to Young Women camp or volleyball camp. I had a strong impression to go to Young Women camp.
The biggest lesson I learned at Young Women camp was about blessings we receive when we follow the Lord. The following week, I went to tryouts. I made the volleyball team and progressed to varsity at the end of the season. My testimony grew immensely. I know whenever we are faced with decisions, we can pray and receive answers.

I was having a meltdown. I was working on a family history project, and I was getting nowhere. I was looking for a marriage certificate for my great-great-great- grandparents, but when I’d done a quick search on FamilySearch for their names, nothing had come up. I’d prayed to Heavenly Father that the Spirit would help and guide me, but I was starting to get frustrated because my prayer hadn’t been answered yet.
I started scrolling down matches again. No, no, no; this wasn’t helpful at all. I scrolled back to the top. Wait—I’d missed one! There were my grandparents’ names, but they were on a baby’s birth certificate. I called for my mom, and I told her I’d found a record of a baby named Sarah. I would have never imagined her response.
“We don’t have a known great-aunt by the name Sarah,” she said.
I checked the record. Yep, it was correct. We searched for her name by itself, and we found a death certificate for her. It was four days after she was born. I was ready to cry, but they were tears of happiness. My prayer had been answered. I had one thought: “We’ll all be together again.”

Christopher’s heart was heavy as he walked slowly to his family’s car after Primary. Why does everyone but me hear the still, small voice? he wondered.
In fast and testimony meeting, Brother Johnson told an experience he had while driving across a lonely stretch of highway. The still, small voice told him to take a different route home, one that would add about 10 kilometers to his trip. Although he had been eager to get home from his business trip, he obeyed the prompting. On his detour, he came across a car accident. A young family had been traveling to visit relatives. When the father, who was driving, fell asleep, the car drifted too close to the side of the road and rolled down a steep hill. Brother Johnson was able to call for help and administer first aid.
Bishop Benson told how he was prompted by the Holy Ghost to check on Sister Henderson during the week. Sister Henderson was a widow who lived about two kilometers up a dirt road off the main highway into town. When the bishop went to see her, he found her furnace had broken down. She didn’t have a telephone and was no longer able to drive, so she had prayed to Heavenly Father for help. The still, small voice had told her all would be well.
Later, Christopher’s Primary teacher, Sister Woolett, gave a lesson about the Holy Ghost. She told about when the still, small voice warned her to check on her sleeping baby. When she did, everything seemed all right.
But as she turned to leave, the voice again told her to check on her little boy. This time she went over to the crib and looked closely at him. There, next to him, was a large, jagged piece of glass. A framed picture that had been hanging above the crib had fallen. Most of the glass and the frame were behind the crib, but the large, jagged piece had fallen next to her sleeping son.
Sister Woolett also related an incident from the lesson manual about one of the prophets being warned of danger by the still, small voice.
Why can everyone hear the still, small voice but me? Christopher wondered again. He knew that after his baptism almost two years ago, he was given the gift of the Holy Ghost when he was confirmed. So why doesn’t the Holy Ghost speak to me?
“How was Primary?” Mom asked as Christopher and his two younger sisters climbed into the car. Jill and Michelle started telling about their lessons and the songs they learned in singing time. Christopher stared sadly at the floor.
“What was your lesson about, Christopher?” Dad asked.
A tear rolled down Christopher’s cheek. “The Holy Ghost,” he replied softly. Sensing that something was wrong, Jill and Michelle quit chattering.
“Maybe we could talk about this a little more when we get in the house,” Mom said as they turned into the driveway.
Later Mom and Dad invited Christopher to come to their room. “Christopher,” Mom said, “can you tell us what’s bothering you?”
Christopher looked down. He didn’t want his parents to know the Holy Ghost didn’t talk to him. They probably heard the still, small voice all the time.
“Listen,” Dad said, putting his arm around Christopher, “we can tell you’re upset, and we’d like to help.”
Christopher felt tears ready to spill from his eyes. “Mom, Dad,” he said in a shaky voice, “why doesn’t the Holy Ghost speak to me? I’ve always tried to do what’s right. I know I make mistakes—like the time I spilled the red punch on the new carpet and said Jill did it so I wouldn’t get in trouble. But I did finally tell the truth. Do you have to be perfect like the bishop or Brother Johnson or Sister Woolett to have the Holy Ghost speak to you?”
Mom and Dad looked a little surprised. “Christopher,” Mom said, “the only perfect person to ever live on the earth is Jesus Christ. Everyone makes mistakes. Why don’t you think the Holy Ghost speaks to you?”
“I’ve never heard the still, small voice,” Christopher replied.
“Hearing a voice isn’t the only way the Holy Ghost can communicate with you,” Mom said. “Often it’s what you feel, not what you hear. Don’t you remember the good feeling you had after you prayed and asked Heavenly Father to forgive you for blaming your sister for the carpet stain? That feeling was from the Holy Ghost.”
“It was?”
“Or how about the time we were reading the scriptures,” Dad added, “and you suddenly understood what Jesus Christ was talking about in the parable of the wheat and the tares. That was the Holy Ghost teaching you.”
“I never thought about it that way before!” Christopher was starting to feel a lot better.
“And,” Mom said, “remember when you got lost last summer and you prayed for help? After you prayed, you felt calm and knew you should sit on the nearest bench and let us find you. That calm, reassuring feeling helping you know what to do was the Holy Ghost.”
Christopher smiled. Now he understood. The Holy Ghost had been talking to him—even if he didn’t hear the still, small voice with his ears! Now he said excitedly, “What about last week when I gave my talk in Primary? I’d studied it really hard, but when I got up, I had forgotten it. Then I said a silent prayer, and suddenly I could remember my talk. That was the Holy Ghost, too, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right,” Dad said. “Helping you remember is also a part of the gift of the Holy Ghost.”
“All those times the Holy Ghost really was talking to me!” The warm feeling in Christopher’s heart helped him know it was true.

This story happened in Nicaragua.
Vanessa waved goodbye to Mami and walked into the church building. Some of her friends were already here! She loved Primary activities.
Sister Fonseca was setting up a craft table. There were ribbons, colored strings, and stickers. Vanessa couldn’t wait to find out what they would be making!
After the prayer, Sister Fonseca gave some instructions. “Today we will make gift bags. You can give them to someone you love.” She handed a brown paper bag to each child.
Vanessa was excited to start decorating. She chose a yellow heart sticker and put it on the front of the bag.
Next, Vanessa folded a paper to make a card. “You are a child of God,” she wrote. She drew lots of stars and hearts on it.
Sister Lopez passed out some cookies and cupcakes to put inside their bags. Vanessa put the card inside too. Perfect!
Soon Mami came to pick her up. “Look!” Vanessa held her bag up for Mami to see. “It’s to give to someone special.”
“Beautiful!” Mami said. “Who will you give it to?”
“I don’t know,” Vanessa said. “I want to give it to someone who needs love.” Then Vanessa had an idea. “Can we go for a walk to find someone to give it to?”
“Sure,” Mami said. “Let’s go!”
Vanessa held Mami’s hand and carried her bag of love in her other hand. They turned down a quiet street. Maybe someone here needs love, Vanessa thought.
But as they walked, Vanessa frowned. There was no one on the street!
“Let’s try going this way.” Mami led Vanessa down another road. But again, no one was outside.
Vanessa sighed. “What should we do?” she asked.
“Why don’t you say a prayer in your mind?” Mami said. “Ask Heavenly Father to guide you to someone you can help.”
They turned down one more street, and Vanessa said a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please help me find someone who needs some love.
A few minutes later, Vanessa saw a little boy walking on the sidewalk.
Vanessa’s face lit up with a smile. “Hi,” she said to him. “I want to give this to you.” She held out the bag.
At first, the boy looked confused.
“It’s OK. You can take it,” Mami said gently.
Slowly, the boy reached out and took the bag. A big smile spread across his face.
“I made it for you with a lot of love,” Vanessa said.
Vanessa felt happy as she watched the boy run back to his house. She knew he was special to Heavenly Father.
How did Vanessa share Heavenly Father’s love?
Illustrations by Vicky Scott

There are lots of ways the Thordersons learned this truth, but one of the most important ways they learned to serve was through Grandma Julie. Grandma Julie was really Eva Julie VanGard. Sister Thorderson was her visiting teacher for ten years. For the last six years of her life (she was 102 when she died in the spring of 1989), Grandma Julie lived with the Thordersons.
“Having Grandma Julie move in with us was the greatest thing that ever happened,” says Sister Thorderson. “A lot of kids do not know how to relate to older people, and these kids are so good with older people; it’s wonderful.”
They all remember Grandma Julie fondly and love to tell funny stories about her. Kurt, who is the second oldest, remembers Grandma Julie as a natural part of their lives. “She would be here when we would have friends from church and school over. The room would be packed with people, and she’d be right in the middle of everything.”
Jim, the third oldest, said Grandma Julie loved to tell them stories about her life—usually more than once. But that didn’t matter to the Thordersons, because they loved this little, fragile lady as if she were their own grandmother. They learned to give unselfish service in their family because of the care she needed and the love she gave. Grandma Julie prompted them all to be more considerate and loving toward each other, which is a big part of being friends with your brothers and sisters.

At the birth of each of my children, during those precious, solemn moments when I held them for the first time, I felt the whisperings of the Spirit teaching me of their unique qualities. When these impressions first came, I doubted. But as my children grew, the truths suggested at their births were verified. I feel wonder for a God who would thus offer counsel to me as he, our Heavenly Father, transferred his precious children to a new father’s earthly care.

When I moved to Colorado, everything was different and strange to me. I was so lonely. My family eased some of the loneliness, but I still felt hollow inside. I figured it was because I was hours away from the friends I had known since I was two. That wasn’t the only reason, though. I had not been saying my prayers every night or relying on the Lord as I should.
School started, and I made some new friends who had high standards, but I was still lonely. They weren’t close friends I could talk to like those I had left behind, so I wallowed in self-pity, frustration, and tears many times that year.
One night, after I had managed two fouls and a pass in the wrong direction at a ward basketball game, I went home, buried my head under my pillow, and sobbed. I sobbed all the way through my homework until my brother, who was at college, called. My dad had him talk to me.
I told my brother about how I felt, and he suggested that I read this scripture: “Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest” (Joshua 1:9).
My brother and I then made a deal that we would each try to help those we met at school who might need a friend. I decided to become a friend to others instead of feeling sorry for myself. The feeling of making someone else’s day better was wonderful.
Though I still miss my old friends, whenever I need a shoulder to lean on, I know I can turn to my family and to Heavenly Father. They are my best and closest friends.

My first job out of college was working for a major airplane manufacturer. While there, I learned that to make airplanes that were safe, the company had specifications for every part. The parts had to be certified as meeting all standards, including shape, size, material, and tolerances.
If a part met the standards, it would be placed in inventory for building an airplane. If it didn’t meet the standards, the part would be rejected and returned to the supplier. Suppliers of parts were careful to understand and meet all of the requirements, including the tolerances.
Would you willingly ride in an airplane made with substandard parts? Of course not! You would want the parts to exceed the standard. Some people, however, appear to be willing to embrace substandard behavior in their lives. But only by knowing, understanding, and living the doctrine of Christ can you adopt the behavior needed to qualify for exaltation.
Tolerance is a word that is heard frequently in society today, usually in the context of tolerating or accepting other people’s cultures or behavior. Sometimes it is used by people wanting acceptance to do something without consideration of its impact on society or others. My purpose is not to talk about that definition but to focus on the engineering definition of the word and its application for us.
Tolerance is used to define acceptable variations from a defined standard. In a manufactured part, the tolerance might be specified to be five inches long (13 cm), plus or minus a thousandth of an inch (0.0025 cm). Another part might be defined to be made of a certain material that is 99.9 percent pure, like gold bars. The Lord has set tolerances to help us qualify for exaltation.
Standards for salvation are called commandments, which are given by our Father in Heaven. These standards apply to all parts of our lives and at all times. They are not selectively applied at a certain time or in a certain situation. The commandments define the tolerances required to qualify for exaltation.
There is a judgment that, in a sense, is like the certification process for a plane part. Just as there are qualifying tests for aircraft parts, our Father in Heaven has a judgment to determine if we will be certified. It is to our advantage to know and meet the standards within the tolerance the Lord has set.
You will remember that the ten virgins in the Savior’s parable were invited to the wedding feast. When the bridegroom arrived, five had oil and were able to enter. The other five came late and could not enter. (See Matthew 25:1–13.)
Regarding this parable, Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said: “The arithmetic of this parable is chilling. The ten virgins obviously represent members of Christ’s Church, for all were invited to the wedding feast and all knew what was required to be admitted when the bridegroom came. But only half were ready when he came.”1
The first five virgins met the standards, and so must we.
God created us in His own image. The plan for us on this earth is to obtain a body, have experience, receive ordinances, and endure to the end. Standards have been established and tolerances set that we need to live to qualify for exaltation. God has promised that we can be exalted, but He has also said, “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise” (D&C 82:10).
In God’s plan of salvation, we are being molded, shaped, and polished to become like Him. It is something each of us has to experience individually.
“For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39).
God has established what we must do and the standards we must meet. Something quite remarkable is that He gives us the moral agency to decide whether to accept and meet those standards. However, there are consequences to our decisions. He gave us agency, but He does not give us the authority to change the standards or the consequences of our decisions.
Because there are standards and because we have agency to choose, there is a Final Judgment, at which time each of us will be reviewed to see if we meet the standards—in other words, to see if we have lived within the standards and tolerances God has defined. His judgment will be final.
The doctrine of repentance allows us to correct or fix defects, but it is better to focus on meeting God’s standards than to plan on invoking the principle of repentance before the Judgment. I learned this lesson when I was young.
As a teenager I spent my summers working on my grandfather’s ranch in Wyoming, USA. It was a sheep and cattle ranch of more than 2,000 acres (810 ha), plus additional rangeland. The ranch operation required a lot of equipment. Because the closest repair center was far away, my grandfather taught us to carefully maintain the equipment and to inspect everything before we left the ranch house. If we had a breakdown, it was usually miles from the ranch house, and that meant a long walk.
It didn’t take long for me to learn the law of consequences. It was always better to avoid problems than to take a long walk. The same is true with the commandments of our Heavenly Father. He can tell the difference between someone who truly is striving to become like Him and an individual who is pushing the edges but trying to stay just inside the acceptable limits.
There are those in the world today who are striving to dismiss or change the standards established by God. This is not a new phenomenon.
“Wo unto them that call evil good, and good evil, that put darkness for light, and light for darkness, that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!” (2 Nephi 15:20).
We must not be deceived or give heed to those who would attempt to convince us that God’s standards have changed. They have no authority to change the standards. Only the designer, Heavenly Father, can change the specifications.
All of us easily recognize how ridiculous it would be for a supplier of airplane parts to listen to some uninformed individual who promotes making changes to the specifications or tolerances of a part. None of us would want to fly in an airplane manufactured with such a part.
Photo illustration by Thomas Lammeyer/Hemera/Thinkstock
Likewise, no one would accuse an airplane manufacturer of being unthoughtful or intolerant when it rejects such parts. The manufacturer would not allow itself to be intimidated or bullied into accepting parts that could not be certified. To do so would jeopardize its business and the lives of the passengers who might fly in its airplanes.
The same is true with God’s laws and commandments. His standards are fixed, and no one can change them. Individuals who think they can will be greatly surprised in the Final Judgment.
Our Heavenly Father is the designer of the plan of salvation. He has put in place all that is needed for us to qualify to return to His presence. The standards are set, known, and easily available to each of us.
The Savior has said that all of us are capable of meeting the standards. The Word of Wisdom is evidence of this, indicating that it is “given for a principle with promise, adapted to the capacity of the weak and the weakest of all saints, who are or can be called saints” (D&C 89:3; emphasis added).
The Savior also teaches that we will “not be tempted above that which [we are] able to bear” (D&C 64:20), but we must “watch and pray continually” (Alma 13:28).
You have the power, “for the power is in [you], wherein [you] are agents unto [yourselves]. And inasmuch as men do good they shall in nowise lose their reward” (D&C 58:28).
You can meet the standards and tolerances. You have the capacity to qualify for exaltation.
We learn the standards by attending church and by studying and acting on the doctrines found in the scriptures and in the words of modern prophets.
The greatest source of guidance is the promptings that come from the Holy Ghost, who will teach us all things we must do (see 2 Nephi 32:2–3). With the aid of the Holy Ghost and the Light of Christ (see Moroni 7:16–18), we can know right and wrong. We can be guided throughout our lives. We can feel in our hearts and have thoughts come into our minds that can give comfort and guidance. This is true even for children.
God has promised that He will help us as we strive to meet His standards. Just as we wouldn’t willingly fly in an airplane made with substandard parts, we shouldn’t accept or practice substandard behavior. Only by knowing, understanding, and living the doctrine of Christ can we qualify for exaltation.

President Hinckley visited the area in 1996 to dedicate the replica of the tabernacle in Omaha and to celebrate the faith and dedication of the men who fought as part of the Mormon Battalion. The Miller family joined a host of other families there in dressing up like pioneers and doing pioneer activities. Angela even sang in a children’s choir. When she wears her pioneer dress and bonnet, she seems to feel more appreciation for the pioneers.

President Spencer W. Kimball read the Bible when he was fourteen years old—all 66 books and 1,519 pages. “If I could do it by coal-oil light,” he said, “you can do it by electric light” (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1982, p. 131).
President Kimball was a very special teacher for all of us. He didn’t have a car or a bicycle, but he did have nine cows to milk every morning and night.
He said, “I thought, ‘What a waste of time, to sit on a three-legged stool. Maybe there is something else I could do while I am milking.’” He placed a copy of the Articles of Faith on the ground beside him and went through them, over and over, until he had memorized them. Then he repeated the Ten Commandments over and over until he learned them. He memorized important scriptures that would help him on his mission—all while he milked the cows. He didn’t have time to waste; he had things to do with his life (see The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, p. 131).

I liked the story in the April 1977 Friend called “A Better Way,” and I would like to tell about the missionary experience our family had.
When I was eight years old, we moved to Fountain Valley, California. Since we had some friends who were Mormons, Mom and Dad wanted to learn about the gospel. So when the missionaries knocked on our door, Mom asked them to come back that night when Dad was home. They did. The feeling was so good that evening that we asked the missionaries to return.
Later on Mom, Dad, and I were baptized, and a few weeks later my little sisters were blessed. Then my older sister was baptized. A year later my dad died of cancer. About a year after his death our family was sealed together in the temple.
I am really thankful that we have the gospel in our home.

Mother took pieces of wood from a dwindling pile on the kitchen floor and put them through the open door of the cookstove. She was heating the oven to bake bread. Six loaves were rising on the warming shelf along the top of the stove. A rush of warm air met Jack, my brother, who was five, and Uncle Bob, who was ten, as they brought in armloads of wood and stacked them carefully beside the stove. In my dad’s family, boys were considered men when they were ten years old, and they were expected to do a full day’s work.
Uncle Bob is my dad’s youngest brother. Dad was about seventeen when Uncle Bob was born. Dad always had a special love for him. No matter where we lived, Dad would get lonesome to see Uncle Bob and would often go home to his parents’ place just to see him.
As he was growing up, Uncle Bob often came to our home. He helped Dad with the haying and the fieldwork. He carried wood for my mother. He really enjoyed eating all the delicious food Mother prepared.
The rest of Dad’s family had been converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints after Dad was grown and had left home. Uncle Bob was the youngest member of Dad’s family, and he had a special testimony of the Church.
One day Uncle Bob stacked an armload of wood and turned to my mother. The Spirit was strong in his heart as he began to explain the things he had been learning in church and through study of the scriptures and personal prayer. He told her many things about the gospel of Jesus Christ and about Joseph Smith’s praying to know which church was true and discovering that not one of the churches in his day had the fullness of the gospel. Uncle Bob told her how Joseph Smith had been privileged to see God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ, and to know for himself that they had bodies of flesh and bone, just as he had. Uncle Bob’s eyes never wavered from my mother’s face as he bore his strong testimony.
Mother didn’t believe a boy so young as Uncle Bob could know these things. She became angry at the words she was hearing and told Uncle Bob, “You may come back to my house anytime, but never mention these things here again.”
Uncle Bob loved my parents and wanted to come as often as he could. He agreed. “Aunt Ruth, I will never mention these things again in your home, I promise. I also promise you that someday you will ask me to baptize you.”
Now, this was many years ago, when young people did not speak their minds. They were expected to show respect to those who were older than they. It took a lot of courage for Uncle Bob to speak to my mother this way.
We spent many happy times with Uncle Bob. He stayed with us occasionally while our parents went to visit my mother’s family. He never broke his promise to my mother by again speaking of the great truths of the gospel or bearing his testimony, not even when both of our parents were away.
One year, Uncle Bob came to stay for two weeks. My sister, Jeannie, made spice cake every day. We whipped a half-gallon canful of pure cream for the topping. The smells seemed to curl around the corners of the room and out to the fields where Jack and Uncle Bob worked. It made your mouth water, it was such a tangy odor. But not even then, with a stove full of wood and stomach full of sweet spice cake did Uncle Bob break his vow to my mother.
The years kept going by, one by one. Uncle Bob grew up, married, and had six sons and one daughter. He always stayed close to the Church. He knew that it was true. He held many callings over the years. He served wherever he was needed, and in later years he became a stake patriarch and a temple worker in the Portland Oregon Temple.
In 1971 Uncle Bob was fifty years old and my mother was sixty-four when she telephoned him one day. It’s curious—after all those years, she still remembered! Mother said, “Will you come, Bob. Will you come and baptize me?” On April 15, 1971—forty years after my uncle had made his promise to her—he baptized my mother a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Three brothers walked away with first prize in the Grand Prix de la Chanson Eurovision 1984. The competition is an important one in Europe, receiving extensive television coverage and generating much interest since each of 19 countries sends one performing group to the competition.
Per, Richard, and Louis Herrey, originally of Sweden but now living in Los Angeles, California, returned to their native country and won the right to represent Sweden at the international competition. At the competition, which took place in Luxembourg, the Herrey brothers took first prize home for Sweden.
Prior to their victory, the boys had received other awards. Per, who served a mission in Chile, was selected to participate in an international song contest in Chile. He sang an original composition. Richard has danced in seven episodes of the television show Fame.
Following their victory, the brothers will tour Sweden and Europe and prepare the songs they want to use in cutting a record album.
The Herrey family is active in the Westwood Second Ward, Westwood California Stake.

Bobby and Abigail Moreno of Baguio, Philippines, know something about faith. They also know something about Moroni’s declaration that “God has not ceased to be a God of miracles” (Morm. 9:15). Their son, Kinjiro, was born with a cyst that prevented the left side of his brain from developing. He was near death, and the doctors didn’t give his parents much hope.
Abigail comes from a strong Latter-day Saint home—her father is Elder Edison M. Cabrito, an Area Authority Seventy—but her nonmember relatives were reproachful rather than reassuring in this time of trial. “It’s because you belong to another church,” they chided her. “You’d better come back to us. He will get well.”
But she stayed strong in her faith. She told them her son had been blessed by the priesthood and that members had prayed for him in the temple. “I won’t lose hope,” she said. “He’s going to live.”
And he did live. Kinjiro is now three years old, and even though the road to recovery has not been easy, he is a happy, loving little boy. When his parents first brought him home, the doctors didn’t think he would live long. But his latest examination showed that his brain has developed, and the prognosis is now much more optimistic.
“He has lived for three years,” his mother says, “and I know he will live longer, for I know he has a duty to serve our Heavenly Father.”

Just before my mom passed away, she asked me to take care of her younger sister, who was in a hospital in Korea. My family and I lived in California, USA, so unfortunately there seemed to be no way to fulfill my mom’s compassionate last wish. Then my job unexpectedly relocated me to South Korea, and I had to be separated from my family for a year. Although I was concerned about living far from my family, I also anticipated visiting my aunt and my dad, who was in a Korean hospital suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.
I asked Heavenly Father for divine help in living away from my family. As I thought about the time I would spend in Korea, I resolved to visit my dad, my aunt, and the temple weekly as well as to pray for my family daily.
Once I was in Korea, the bishop of my new ward called me to be the Young Men president and the Gospel Doctrine teacher. My ward and the hospitals where my dad and aunt stayed were far from each other, and I had a very demanding job; but Heavenly Father blessed me with strength and stamina to magnify my callings and to keep my resolutions.
Soon after I started visiting my aunt, I discovered she rarely had any visitors. I decided to pick her up and have her stay with me on the weekends at my hotel, which had an extra room. However, I had a problem: should I take her with me to church on Sunday? I thought she would neither be interested in nor understand the meetings, and she would have to wait for hours after church for me to be done with meetings and other duties. But for some reason I felt I should take her.
That Sunday I took her with me, and, as expected, she had to wait for me afterward. After my meetings, I took her back to the hotel to eat. I noticed that she held a bag. I asked her about it, and she said a sister had given her some snacks.
Whenever I had duties after church, this sister—who did not know my aunt—always offered my aunt snacks. One week during my Sunday School lesson, a familiar voice volunteered to read a scripture. I had never imagined my aunt would volunteer, but a kind sister sitting next to my aunt had prompted her to read for the class. Although my aunt was not good at socializing because of her time isolated in the hospital, all the members kindly greeted and chatted with her.
Every Sunday evening I would take her back to the hospital and promise to pick her up the next weekend, which always brought a happy smile to her face.
One day a friend of mine shared a concern that my aunt might have a hard time when my visits suddenly stopped when I left Korea. As my scheduled departure from Korea came closer, I felt mixed emotions—happy to be soon reunited with my family but distressed and sad about leaving my aunt alone.
Finally, I explained to my aunt that I would not be able to visit her as often. She paused a moment, obviously disappointed. Then she tried to compose herself and asked if I could visit her again in a year. I cried and desperately asked Heavenly Father to help this lady.
On my last Sunday in Korea, the bishop asked if ward members could pick up my aunt on Sundays to bring her to church. He said that a number of members were willing to visit her on a regular basis—so many that they would have to organize and take turns. I could not believe his offer! This was the unexpected answer to my desperate prayers.
Since the members lived far away from my aunt’s hospital, I offered to leave some money for them to cover the travel expenses, but the members refused to take my money. They told me they would take turns visiting once a month, but I found out later that they actually visited every week. One faithful sister picks up my aunt every Friday to attend institute and have lunch. She even took her to a beauty shop for a haircut. Another sister, a single mother of two teenage children, volunteered to pick her up every Sunday morning. She cooks for my aunt, takes her for a walk, and listens to music with her. Most importantly, she tries to be a friend, and my aunt has finally opened up and comfortably chats with her and other members. Every Sunday evening the bishop picks up my aunt from a member’s home after his long day of Church meetings and other duties to take her back to the hospital. Every Thursday he sends a kind email to me to report their heavenly service for my aunt.
I believe that my mom saw the actions of faithful Latter-day Saints serving her younger sister. And now I know, more clearly than ever, why we call our fellow Church members “brothers” and “sisters.”

“I remember sometimes staying at Grandmother’s when I was very young,” Sister Smith recalled. “One day she took my brother and me with her when she went to deliver a new baby. When we got to the house, she told us to wait in the car. We stayed in the car a long time, until the children living there invited us to play with them. We got out of the car and all ran around to the back of the house where we saw my grandmother through the sundappled window, bathing a brand new little baby. Suddenly she looked up to see a window full of little faces peering in. I remember how she put her head back and laughed! She didn’t get after us for getting out of the car, because I guess she realized that we had become restless waiting for her.

Elder Orton was born on 24 August 1936 to H. Frank and Gwen Riggs Orton and was raised in Panguitch, Utah. His parents had been married in the temple, but not long afterward his father became less active. It wasn’t until young Robert was 12 years old that his father determined to return to full activity. “That took place after many years of hoping and praying and pleading,” Elder Orton says. “He had always been a good father, but there was now a calmness and sweetness in our home because of the spiritual relationship that existed between my father and the rest of our family.”

As each month passes by on my mission, I am always thrilled to receive the New Era. The article “We Talk of Christ” really hit me hard. As I was working with the hearing impaired in the Portland area, my companion and I met a fine young lady and became good friends. She asked a lot of questions on a lot of different subjects, especially about prophets and temples, and we answered the best we could.
After the third visit she asked us not to return. I asked myself what we had done wrong. Looking back, I remembered reading “We Talk of Christ” in the New Era two days earlier. I realized that we didn’t talk about Christ very much, perhaps leading her to suppose that we worshiped prophets.
The next day we called her and apologized. I told her that we believe in Christ as the cornerstone of our religion. She responded happily and wanted us to come back and talk to her. I pray that she will accept the gifts of the gospel.

Another false philosophy that appeals to the Mr. Hyde side of our natures is that peeking into pornography is harmless. This is a terrible deception. Pornography is as addictive as cocaine or any illegal drug. I recently received a heartbreaking letter from an excommunicated man whose soul is filled with sorrow and regret. With his permission, I quote the following from his letter: “I hope that this letter will confirm to any who have doubt that the path of destruction only reaps sorrow and grief and no sin is worth this price.”

He goes on to state: “I have brought grief and sorrow upon myself. Only now do I fully realize the great destruction that I have brought upon myself. No selfish or lustful desire is worth losing your Church membership for. I have brought terrible grief to my wife and two wonderful children. I am grateful for my wife’s great efforts to help me overcome my sins. My wife has been a victim of my sins and had to endure great sorrow and suffering. I long for the day that I can again be a member of the Lord’s Church and for our family to be an eternal family.”

The letter goes on to admit: “My sins are a direct result of my early childhood addiction to pornography. Without a doubt, pornography is addictive and is poison. Had I learned early in my life to apply the power of self-mastery, I would be a member of the Church today.”