Gospel Story Finder

After a couple of years, we graduated from advertising packets to telephone directories. During several summers, we loaded up our station wagon with books and children. The days were hot, the hours were long, some streets were hard to find, some addresses couldn’t be found, the books were heavy, some driveways were long and went uphill, some dogs were mean; but we had fun. Sometimes two children would go to a home, one to play with the dog and the other to take the books.
One summer one of the boys broke his foot while on the job. Within a few days he realized that he didn’t want to be left out of the summer work; besides he loved to ski. Soon he was in the back of the station wagon unwrapping the books and giving directions to the children as to how many books were to go to each house.
At the end of a day’s work, there were stories to tell, experiences to laugh at, accomplishments to brag about—and no one had any trouble sleeping. Yes, we were having fun and experiencing a sense of accomplishment.

So when Steve Sargent failed to receive an athletic scholarship, his life came apart, right? Wrong. He had another dream beyond that of athletic stardom. He wanted to serve the Lord on a mission. He had already completed four years of seminary. He had read the scriptures, maintained his personal worthiness, and tried to save some money. Now he was ready to fine tune himself before the big event.

Attending BYU on an academic scholarship, he took a missionary preparation class. His parents recall, “When he wrote home from the Y he would say, ‘I can hardly wait to get out. I wish I were in the mission field!’ That was six months ahead of time. When they extended missionary service from 18 months to two years, we thought he might be a little disappointed, but he just said, ‘Boy that’s great!’ There was also a lot of hard personal prayer. And a lot of discussion with his roommates and others who were preparing for missions.”

Finally, his papers came. He went shopping, visited the doctor and dentist, spoke at a marvelous farewell, hugged his hugs, and said his goodbyes.
The MTC was wonderful, all except for getting up at 6:30, but Steve mastered that as he had mastered the spiral pass and the jump shot. Then came the mission field and the realization that missionary work is tough. As tough as football or basketball.
“I’d say it’s harder,” Elder Sargent insists. “Maybe not physically, although physically it wears you down sometimes too. But mentally it’s a lot tougher. You need to put out more effort to be a good missionary than to be a good quarterback.
“Everybody says in their homecoming talk how great it was, so I always expected to spend 24 hours a day on a spiritual high. I soon found out that it isn’t like that. There’s a lot of hard work involved, but when you see the results it’s worth it.”
And then, there was always the language barrier. “The first two weeks I thought they were speaking Chinese.” But his ear soon adjusted, and his tongue got used to its new assignment. “I feel that the Lord’s really helped me a lot in picking up the language.”
The initial hard times brought Steve closer to his family. His dad says, “You suffer with him when he’s down, and you just want to be there and put your arms around him and say, ‘It’s okay.’ We’ve drawn closer to Steve through the hard times than through the good. We know that he has to go through the refiner’s fire in order to learn. We want him to learn to struggle and sacrifice, but at the same time, we pray that the Lord is gentle with him so that it’s a positive struggle after all is said and done, so that he progresses in his testimony and understanding of people and love and commitment to them.”
Brother Sargent’s prayers have been answered. Steve found that every sacrifice was more than matched by a blessing. If the mission field was harder than he expected, it was more rewarding too. The letters he writes home make glad reading for his parents. “I’m really feeling a lot more love for my Father in Heaven and for Jesus Christ. I set a goal to focus my thoughts on Christ when I’m down and thinking about other things. I know that I will grow to love him even more as my mission goes on. When I think about it, I just get warm all over and feel great. There are still plenty of rough times, but I know whom I can always rely on.”
But after all is said and done, there still aren’t any newspaper clippings. Isn’t missionary work a little boring after athletic stardom? “Missionary work is awesome! The rewards are far greater than the rewards of athletics. A touchdown is thrilling, but it doesn’t compare to a baptism.”
There has been personal growth too. Some of it Steve probably can’t even see because he’s too close to himself. Some of it he can. “I can see life a lot clearer. I know why we’re here. I can see the plan that our Father in Heaven has given us in order to be able to live with him again and become like him. It’s neat to finally see that plan come into focus and really understand what he has done for us.
“I’m a much different person than I was just a few months ago. If I hadn’t come on a mission I’d still be thinking sports were the most important thing in life. I might have learned this in time anyway, but it comes a lot faster on a mission.”
Of course Steve still loves sports too. “I’m sure they’ll have athletics in the next life,” he says.
Steve’s love has grown along with his understanding. He wrote home: “This last week I actually started to enjoy my mission. It happened after I got the tape from home. And I’d been praying quite a bit. I really realized how much my family means to me. I’m just overjoyed to be alive. Our family is so special, and I love you all so much. I realize that the love I feel for you is the thing I need to share with these people.”
As an athlete, Steve prepared carefully for each game, and afterward he would evaluate his preparation so he could do better next time. How does he evaluate his mission preparation? “I think we should prepare when we’re younger. I thought I was pretty well prepared, but our preparation can never be equal to the importance of the task. I wish I had saved more money too, because I feel that I could have placed less of a burden on my parents. I especially wish I’d studied the scriptures more. They are so great.”
Steve has expressed the bottom line on mission preparation. It’s impossible to prepare as well as the calling deserves. Still, mission president Eduardo Ayala is pretty pleased with Elder Sargent just as he is. “He’s one of the most impressive missionaries I’ve ever seen. He is always enthusiastic. He is an excellent companion. He works very hard. Nothing discourages him. And furthermore he lives the law of consecration in every sense. It’s a pleasure to work with him.”
Nice words, but don’t look for them in the newspaper. Don’t look for any of Steve’s hard, wonderful mission in the newspaper. Look for it in the smiling faces of those to whom he brings the gospel. Look for it in the person he becomes. Look for it in all the good he does throughout his whole life and beyond. Look for it when the sports clippings have all turned to dust, and you will find it. Because it will be written in the hearts of people, and people last forever.

Please don’t go, Papa, Maria pleaded silently as she watched her father walk out the schoolroom door. She slid as far down in her desk seat as she could, hoping that no one would see the tears filling her large, brown eyes.
“Maria, will you please come to the front of the room?” asked Mrs. Wilson, the third grade teacher.
When Maria heard her name, she looked up, but she couldn’t understand anything else that was said. When she didn’t get up, Mrs. Wilson motioned to her with her hand.
Have I done something wrong? she wondered as she slowly stood up, but the teacher was smiling.
When Maria got to the front of the room, Mrs. Wilson put her arm around Maria’s shoulder. “Class, I want you to meet a new third grader. This is Maria Nevarez. She and her family have moved here from Mexico so that her father can work in the hospital. Maria speaks very little English, so we will all have to be her friends and help her feel comfortable and happy in our class. Can everyone do that?”
All heads nodded.
What are they saying about me? Maria wondered as she walked back to her seat. Oh, I wish I were back in my schoolroom in Mexico with Señora (Mrs.) Ramas and all my friends!
That evening when Maria’s father came home from the hospital, he sat Maria on his lap and asked her in their native language, “Mariacita, how was your first day at your new school?”
Tears welled up in Maria’s dark eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “It is so good to talk to you and Mama in Spanish. I was afraid today, Papa. I do not like school here. I want to go back to Mexico where I can understand what is being said and be with my friends.”
Maria’s father hugged her and gently brushed her long, black hair out of her eyes. “Maria, remember when we talked as a family about what it would be like to move to the United States? We knew that it would not be easy for any of us, but we also knew that it would be a great opportunity for me to learn new ways to help make sick people well. When we return to Mexico, I will be better prepared to help our people.”
“I know, Papa,” said Maria. “I don’t mean to complain. I just didn’t know that I would feel so afraid.”
“I feel afraid sometimes, too,” Papa said.
Surprised, Maria looked up into her father’s eyes. “I didn’t think papas ever felt afraid.”
“Yes, we do. Today I felt afraid when the other doctors at the hospital were explaining some very technical procedures and I did not understand all their words.”
Maria asked, “What did you do?”
“I talked to my special friend,” Papa said.
“I didn’t know you had a friend here, Papa.”
“He was my special friend in Mexico, too,” her father replied.
Maria was puzzled.
Papa smiled and said, “My special friend, Maria, is Padre Celestial (Heavenly Father).”
“You knelt at the hospital and prayed to Heavenly Father?”
“We cannot always kneel when we need Heavenly Father’s help, but He hears prayers offered from our hearts too.”
“How did Heavenly Father help you today?” Maria asked.
“He sent peace to my heart so that there was no room left for fear. Then I could concentrate on what was being said instead of my fear. That helped me to understand what the doctors were saying.”
That night when Maria was tucked snuggly into bed, she thought about what Papa had said. She had never thought of Heavenly Father as a friend before, but thinking about it made her feel warm and happy inside.
The next day Mrs. Wilson had the students go, two at a time, to the chalkboard and write answers to columns of multiplication problems. Maria saw that they were to answer as many as they could in just one minute.
Maria knew that soon it would be her turn, and her stomach began to feel queasy. She closed her eyes and prayed from her heart, “Dear Padre Celestial, please help me to not be afraid.”
“Brien and Maria,” called Mrs. Wilson.
Maria stood up, took a deep breath, and walked to the chalkboard.
Her hand flew as she wrote the answers.
“When Mrs. Wilson stopped her and Brien, Maria had almost completed both columns, more than anyone else.
“Wow!” said the class. “Maria is good.”
Maria could not hide her pleased smile. I wasn’t even afraid, she thought as she walked back to her seat.
After lunch Mrs. Wilson came to Maria’s desk. She smiled and asked slowly and clearly, “Maria, will you sit by Brien and help her with her math?” She pointed to Brien and then to the papers she held in her hand.
Maria understood. “Sí (yes),” she said. “I will help Brien.”
For a time Maria and Brien just looked at each other, not knowing quite what to do; then they both giggled quietly. After that, everything was easy.
“What’s this?” asked Maria’s father that evening when he saw the big smile on her face. “Something is different today.”
“I liked school today. I didn’t feel so afraid. And Papa, I made a friend! Her name is Brien, and she invited me to her house after school to play.”
“How did you talk to her?”
“Oh, we didn’t talk very much. We just laughed and played.”
“Why was today different from yesterday, Mariacita?” Papa asked, bending down and looking into her eyes.
Maria gave her father a big hug. “Because today I remembered my Special Friend. I prayed to Him in my heart that school would go better, and He answered my prayer.”

Mark stood up at the podium in the Primary room and opened his scriptures. Rain was pounding the roof, and he knew he’d have to talk loudly to be heard over its noise. He cleared his throat and read:
“‘And the Spirit giveth light to every man that cometh into the world; and the Spirit enlighteneth every man through the world, that hearkeneth to the voice of the Spirit.
“‘And every one that hearkeneth to the voice of the Spirit cometh unto God, even the Father.’”*
When he finished the scripture, Mark looked up at his mom, who was sitting in the back of the room. She winked at him. They both had a special feeling ever since yesterday’s experience.
Yesterday had been one of those hot and humid summer afternoons so common in Iowa. A storm was brewing when Mark and his mother drove to the local department store.
“Looks like we should have brought our umbrellas,” Mom observed when they got out of the car. “I hope we don’t get wet later.”
Mark looked at the gathering dark clouds and thought he heard thunder in the distance. They hurried into the store.
“This won’t take long,” Mom said as she headed past displays to the middle of the large building. As she stood waiting to pick up some photographs, Mark noticed the store manager moving quickly from department to department giving a brief message to each salesclerk.
The manager spoke softly, but Mark could hear him clearly when he got to the jewelry department nearby. “Find your flashlight and make sure it has fully-charged batteries.” The jewelry clerk nodded, and the manager moved on to the next department, delivering the same message: “Find your flashlight and make sure it has fully-charged batteries.” The clerk in this department shook his head after the manager left and muttered to himself, “I don’t have time for that nonsense.”
Mark looked at his mom, who had also overheard the message. “It’s OK,” she assured him. “Just stick close to me.”
Mark moved closer and took her hand. Just then there was a loud crack of thunder directly overhead and all the lights went out, plunging the store into darkness. Mark heard a brief startled shriek from a few shoppers, followed by some children crying for their parents. Mark was glad he had stayed close by his mother.
Mom squeezed his hand and whispered, “Stand still and wait.”
When Mark’s eyes got used to the dark, he could see daylight coming in from the windows of the storefront, but the light seemed faint and far away. Sounds of panic died away quickly as, throughout the store, small lights came on and started to move.
One light moved toward Mark, and a voice spoke from above it in the dark. “Follow me, please.” It was a store clerk, holding a flashlight. Together Mark and his mother joined a group of shoppers who were already behind the clerk, and they slowly made their way down the dark aisles. The group grew larger the farther they went, being joined by other shoppers and clerks, including the clerk who thought that taking time to find his flashlight was “nonsense.”
Mark felt relieved when they got to the front of the store and could see sunlight coming in the front windows and doors. They no longer needed the clerks with the flashlights, so the clerks left them and turned back into the darkness to find other shoppers and lead them to the light.
As Mark walked to the car with his mom, he jumped over puddles of water that reflected the clearing sky overhead. The storm had come and gone quickly, and now the day was full of sunshine. Evidence of the storm was still all around them, however, and on the way home, Mark saw fallen tree limbs and broken traffic lights.
When they pulled into their driveway, Mom asked him, “Did you know you have a light inside you a lot like those flashlights in the store?”
“I do?”
“Yes. It is the light of Christ. We are born with the ability to tell right from wrong because we have the light of Christ. Sometimes we call it our conscience. Then later, when we are baptized and receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, we have an even brighter light.”
Mark thought about this for a moment. “Do I have to keep my batteries fully charged?”
Mom chuckled. “Yes, indeed. And the scriptures tell you how.”
When they got in the house, Mom showed Mark the scripture in Doctrine and Covenants 84:46.
“‘Hearkeneth to the voice of the Spirit.’ What does that mean?” Mark asked.
“For now, listen to your conscience, and after you are baptized, listen to the still, small voice of the Spirit,” Mom explained. “Do what it tells you to do, and your light will always be fully charged.”
“And ready for any storm!”
“Exactly.”
The rain had stopped pounding the roof of the church, and the sun was starting to filter through the curtains into the Primary room. Mark swallowed hard.
“I know that this scripture is true,” Mark said with a catch in his voice. “And I’m grateful that God has given each of us a light inside us that can lead us safely out of the darkness of any storm.”

A simple act of caring helped Judy* learn from a difficult experience. “It was probably the bleakest time in my life,” she recalls. “My divorce had been long and bitter, and I missed being with my four children. For six months I had been working with Dr. Susan Nelson,* a therapist who helped me recognize that I was partially responsible for what had happened. For the first time, I had to confront my personal weaknesses that, until then, I had denied. It all seemed so overwhelming to me.
“One afternoon in Dr. Nelson’s office, as I was speaking of everything precious I had lost, I looked up to see tears slipping down her cheeks. It surprised me. ‘If a paid therapist can care so much about me,’ I thought, ‘why can’t I care that much about myself?’ Tears began to roll down my face for the first time in years. It was the turning point. In her loving and caring way, Dr. Nelson reminded me that I am a child of God. I could then value myself enough to let go of the past and move on with my life.”

On April 1, 1946, an 8+ earthquake off the cost of the Aleutian Islands in Alaska caused a great tsunami. The tsunami travelled almost 500 miles an hour, reaching Hawaii in less than five hours. Waves up to 50 feet in height hit the Big Island coast before 7 in the morning. 159 people were killed in Hawaii that day. President Spencer W. Kimball, in a General Conference talk, described that in Hilo, a husband and wife saw the tsunami just in time to grab their baby and run to high land. But two other daughters were too far away playing among a clump of trees. Those daughters saw the wave, held on to the trunks of those trees for dear life, and held their breaths until the wave passed by and their heads were again above water. Then they ran up the hill to safety. Brothers and sisters, when I imagine those girls clinging to the trees, that’s what I imagine Nephi meant by “hold fast” to the iron rod. Today, we need to cling with all of our might, hold fast, because the temptations of the devil, the mists of darkness are just too great. They are like a great tsunami.

It was here at BYU, in a devotional such as this, that it all began for me. I had been dating a young man. One night he began talking about marriage, and he was very persistent! I didn’t sleep well that night because of the things he said, and I knew I had to make a decision. I prayed that the Lord would help me know what to do, but I received no instant answer. The next morning we attended a devotional together. While sitting in that devotional, I listened in amazement as the speaker, Elder A. Theodore Tuttle, stood and began to speak about the process of making important decisions. It was as if he were speaking directly to me. He knew my heart, and his words went deep into my soul. He outlined the process of decision making by referring to Doctrine and Covenants section 9. Everyone else seemed to be very familiar with this section of the scriptures except me. You are all familiar with it too, but for me, that day, it was pure revelation and provided a pattern for me to receive an answer to my prayers. He read:

Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.
But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.
But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong. [D&C 9:7–9]

Though this passage was originally directed to Oliver Cowdery, in that moment it became personal for me and was a direct answer to the question I had asked the night before in prayer. Elder Tuttle also outlined a process of listing positives and negatives, making a tentative decision, and then taking that decision back to the Lord in prayer.2

I knew that I had to act! I couldn’t just keep doing what I was doing. I had to decide to decide. I knew it, and I knew God knew that I knew it. After I made a tentative decision to move forward, I can’t say that my answer came as a burning in my bosom. But it did feel right and comfortable and good. I was no longer perplexed or troubled. I felt peace. I knew what to do, and I was happy. And so I went forward, and that persistent young man is here with me tonight. I am grateful for his goodness, his insistence, and his patience.

Was it always easy after that answer came? No. My husband says, to this day, that he can show you the heel marks in the sidewalk outside the door of the Salt Lake Temple where I got a little scared and thought that I wanted to wait. But this is what I learned: As you exercise your faith through prayer, the Lord will help you make defining decisions in defining moments. He will hear and answer your prayers through the whisperings of the Holy Ghost. You will not be left alone.

When my husband and I had been married for less than a month, he had to attend basic military training. I was not allowed to accompany him, so for the six months he was gone I stayed in Provo, Utah, and worked. This was not my idea of a married life—my husband almost 2,000 kilometers away and unable to come home for even a visit. I was a very unhappy bride.
One night during this time, I was awakened from a deep sleep by a voice which came into my mind. As I listened to what was being said, I realized that my great-great-grandfather was speaking to me. I lay there for a moment, listening and thinking. My great-great-grandfather was telling me to have his family sealed to him. He had lived in the United States in the mid-1800s. Due to the American Civil War and the economic conditions prior to the war, my great-great-grandfather George Wilkie had been away from his beloved wife and four sons a great deal. Eventually he died while serving his country in the Civil War.
My ancestors were not Latter-day Saints and did not have the blessings of the gospel. Now, in the middle of the night, here was my great-great-grandfather Wilkie saying to me, “Terry Lynn, please have my family sealed to me. I want to be with them through eternity. Please have our temple work done! You are now away from your husband—imagine that for eternity. It is awful! I want to be sealed to my wife.” Then, as suddenly as it had come, the voice was gone. At first, I thought I must be imagining things, and I lay there and thought about my great-great-grandparents. I decided I should do their genealogy and would start the work when I had the time. Then I began to fall asleep again. I was startled when the voice returned and said much the same thing, only this time urging me to have the work done soon. I decided to do something about it the next day. Apparently, however, my grandfather knew I would probably be distracted the next day, because he spoke to me yet a third time, and told me to do something NOW!
I could not quite believe what was happening, but in the middle of the night I got up and began working on genealogy. I sorted through miscellaneous papers and records and found the information I needed to begin. I then wrote letters requesting birth, marriage, and death certificates. When I had done all that I could do at that time, I finally went back to bed.
I worked on genealogy a lot during the six months my husband was gone. Eventually, I was able to go to the temple with my cousin and have my great-great grandparents sealed. I can testify that I felt their presence there in the temple and knew that, at last, they could be truly happy and together eternally.

Does it bother the youth to be left out of some parties? Melanie says, “I don’t want to go to parties where they will be drinking. It doesn’t bother me if they don’t ask me, because I don’t want to be there anyway. There was a party at school, but I didn’t show up because I found out the purpose of the party was to get drunk. The next day at school, they asked me why I didn’t come. I just said I didn’t want to.”

I just recently moved here from the Philippines, and it has been very hard to be away from my family, friends, and loved ones. Many times I feel so alone. While I was waiting for my New Era subscription to be processed, I would borrrow the New Era from the ward library. The first magazine to arrive was the April 1994 issue. It gave me so much inspiration, especially when I opened the Mormonad poster and saw the words that went straight into my heart: “You Are Never Alone.” Every single article in that issue just made me realize how much I feel my Savior’s love and the appreciation I have for the Atonement in my life. Thanks for that wonderful issue.
Evelyn T. BautistaSt. Louis, Missouri

Recently I met a young medical doctor who was completing his medical training as an intern in a hospital. He told us of himself as he bore his testimony in a stake conference. He said that as a young athlete he had set his sights very high. At only thirteen years of age he had started swimming competitively, and during his teen years he spent thirty to forty hours a week training during the summer and twenty to thirty hours a week in the winter. He told us that his desire to become a champion swimmer was so great that he would have done anything to accomplish it. His grades were not what they should have been, and the coach cautioned him; whereon he applied himself and brought them to a satisfactory level. During this period of time he excluded himself from Church activity because, in his words, “Swimming would improve my self-image and give me confidence and the Church would not.”
He went on to become a national AAU champion, winner of a bronze medal in the 1968 Olympics, and an All-American in college for three years. Again in his words:
I did well in college and was able to go to medical school. I would tell myself, “You are an Olympian; you have a good mind; you will become a doctor and have ‘the good life.’” I would tell myself this as I was contemplating suicide. I was full of false and vain pride.
In medical school I dealt with an indigent population. The people were completely different from me; they frustrated me terribly. I dealt with these frustrations first by hating the people, then by pitying them. As a medical student I frequently thought of taking my own life.
A country doctor in southeastern Ohio, with whom I lived for six weeks, talked to me about my family, about returning to my religious heritage and honoring my mother and father. He asked that sometime before I left we pray together. We did, and we started reading the Bible together.
I went back to Cincinnati, feeling very sure I could understand any work of literature, and started reading the Bible by myself. I was halfway through Genesis and was learning very little when I said to myself, “There must be chapters written in a way that will be easier to understand.” I then turned to Numbers and found that I understood even less. I stopped reading and started praying.
He then went on to tell that he fell in love with a lovely young woman, and they were married. This improved the way he felt about himself and gave him time to think about a future family and how to maintain a good family life. Again in his own words: “I knew that the Church helped tremendously in keeping family ties close. I didn’t really want to have to spend the time required to be a good Latter-day Saint. I was hoping to find another church whose gospel was easier to live and didn’t ask so much.”
He further stated that as they were driving west to take up residence, they were discussing the subject of raising their children; and his wife, though not a member of the Church suggested that the children be raised in the Mormon Church. He had hoped that she would wait for a while, as he was going to start his internship and knew he would be extremely busy.
By chance they moved next door to an active Latter-day Saint family—and, I might say, they were in a non-LDS community. He then explained,
The first question they asked us was if we would like to go to church with them on Sunday. Not being able to think of a good excuse, we went. Through this experience my testimony started to grow, first by studying and praying and listening to the testimonies of our stake missionaries. But the fastest growth in my testimony came from the opportunities I had to serve other people.
About six months ago, he was ordained an elder in the Melchizedek Priesthood, and he told of an experience that happened shortly after his ordination. His elders quorum president called him at 5:30 a.m., just before he was to begin a thirty-six-hour call day at the hospital, and asked him if he would please go over to the hospital early to give a blessing to a women who was about to give birth to a child. His first reaction was, “Why me? I’ll lose an hour and a half of sleep.” But he got up and dressed. Realizing that he was not in the proper frame of mind to give a blessing, he knelt and prayed, searching for the proper spirit. Then he said that as he walked to the hospital “the sun was just coming up on a beautiful new day. When I got to the bedside I saw a beautiful mother about to give birth to a beautiful spirit. After the blessing I thanked the Lord for preparing me.”
Do you recognize the miraculous transformation that had taken place in this young man’s life? He had finally achieved a relationship with the Savior. His priorities and values had changed so as to turn his life completely around.

Whenever I think of excellence I remember a story that Sister Marjorie Hinckley liked to tell about a young girl who lost her parents when she was very young:

“She had been raised by her grandmother, who for some reason or other never bothered to tell her anything much about her mother. One day, when my friend was in her teens, she was going through some papers in her grandmother’s house, and she ran across a report card of her mother’s from grade school. At the bottom of the card in a space labeled “remarks” the teacher had written: “Excellent in every way.”

“This young woman clasped the card to her chest and waltzed around the room saying, “my mother was excellent. My mother was excellent in every way!” It’s all she ever knew about her mother, but it inspired her the rest of her life. It does matter, my dear young friends, that you are excellent in every way. It matters.”[1]

I want to tell you about an experience I had where someone chose to be an everyday disciple and it had a great and lasting impact on me. It was my freshman year in college, here at BYU–Hawaii. It was the start of Winter semester and I was really struggling to find friends. I would try to talk to different people, but nothing ever really clicked for me. That was until one girl saw me working out and asked if she could join me sometime. I said sure, thinking it was a little strange, but oh well. I thought it was just a passing comment, not an actual request she was going to follow up on. But, little did I know, she started to work out with me. We had a class together so we began to talk outside of our workouts. Then I discovered that she was in my ward, so we started sitting together. At the moment, it was simple and sweet and I appreciated it a lot. What a blessing it was to have a friend. 5 years later I want to tell you about the impact that that girl had on me. She became my best friend. We went on missions at the same time. Came back at the same time. Made a very sad transfer to BYU in Provo at the same time. We became roommates. And to this day we have remained extremely close.

I was called to Central America. After several months in the mission field, I realized what a blessing had come to me in that call. While I was helping to find people who loved the Lord, I was also walking in places where much of the Book of Mormon may have happened. This was a second witness to the testimony of my grandfather, who had learned to love the Book of Mormon the first time he got his hands on one in the 1920s. His father was a salesman and trader who traveled widely in Mexico. My great-grandfather had told his children stories of ruined cities and highways in the jungle, and my grandfather had always wanted to know who the people were who built them.

Since my mission, I have had the opportunity to visit many of those ruined cities in Mexico and Central America. I have read what experts say about those places and about the history and greatness of their people. I am very grateful for the added knowledge I have received.

But I have never been more sure of the Book of Mormon than I was that day when I asked the Lord if it was true and He answered me just as Moroni promised. I only wish I had asked sooner. My Heavenly Father wanted me to know the truth for myself all along, and I might have been able to share it with my friend.

Sister Larsen and I were assigned earlier this year to visit two stakes in Europe. The conferences were on successive weekends. Midweek one of our daughters and her husband, who were in Europe on business of their own at that time, arranged their schedules so that they could join us for a day in one of the beautiful cities of Europe. During the course of the day, we visited a lovely shopping center that featured the beautiful porcelain ware for which that city is well known. The work is exquisitely beautiful and very expensive.
As my daughter and I were standing side by side admiring some of the porcelain figurines that were placed on the shelves of this store, and older lady stepped up to our side, apparently attracted by one of the beautiful figurines on a shelf above us. Wanting to inspect it more closely, she reached up and took it in her hands to bring it down closer to her. It slipped from her fingers to the marble floor and broke into many pieces.
The sound of breaking attracted the attention of everyone in the shop. Instinctively, I stepped away. Just as instinctively, my daughter did the opposite thing. She quickly stepped to the side of this elderly lady, put her arm around her, whispered some consoling words in her ear, and then stooped to begin to pick up the pieces of the porcelain object. I felt a little chagrined for myself, but a deep sense of pride and love for my daughter. In my mind and by commitment, I knew what I should have done, but instinctively, I did not. By instinct, she did what the Savior would have done.

Zipporah Garba of Jos District Nigeria
I grew up with the knowledge that I am creative, and I love it. As I grew up, I became more interested in the production of garments, but I needed to learn the skill of sewing to help me achieve my dreams. I enrolled in the self-reliance program and took the Education for Better Work course. I chose tailoring/fashion design and then applied for the PEF loan. That started my journey into the fashion world. It was a beautiful experience. I learned tailoring in one year and now I can make female garments in African styles and English wears. I made my first wedding dress in 2019 and have been able to create many beautiful designs and patterns.
Currently I teach draft garment patterns to some sisters from the Dogon Dutse Branch, and in my neighborhood, as my own way of giving back to my people. I do not only see myself as teaching but also as ministering. I hope that by the end of 2020 I will have created a style and standard for myself and the garments I make which will be a signature for my work because I hope that it becomes a global brand.
I am so grateful to our Heavenly Father for the privilege of the PEF. It has greatly blessed my life and put me on the pedestal of achieving all my dreams. I am prepared to pursue my dreams including all I learned in the self-reliance group meetings.

In addition to his serious and studious nature, there was a lighter side to President Smith’s personality. He had a ready sense of humor that he exercised frequently and spontaneously.

For example, on one occasion President Smith returned from a conference assignment in California with his lunch sack filled with olives he had picked. Delighted with his treasure, and always eager to share, he asked one of his brethren if he had ever “tasted an olive right off the tree.” His unsuspecting victim had not, so he took a healthy bite into one of the fresh olives. This proved to be a rather bitter experience, and as the brother’s face puckered up, President Smith asked innocently, “What’s the matter? Did you get a bad one? Here, you had better try another one.”

Julie’s first day at Flower Elementary School just happened to be the day before Valentine Day. At breakfast that morning she felt sick.
“You’re probably just nervous,” her mom said. “Going to a new school can be scary.”
Julie did feel scared as she walked into the school yard. Everywhere she looked, she saw children she didn’t know. She wondered if she’d ever make friends.
Julie and her mom found her classroom and met her new teacher. Then Mom went home.
The teacher asked each of Julie’s new classmates to give his name and tell about something that he liked. Julie tried to remember everyone, but it was too hard.
After all the children had introduced themselves, the teacher talked about the valentine party for the next day. “You’re here just in time for the fun,” she said to Julie, handing her a written list of everyone’s name.
After school Julie told her mom about her day. “I’ll feel bad at the party because I don’t really know anyone yet.”
“Why not use the party to make new friends?” Mom suggested. “Give a special valentine to everyone in your class.”
Yes, Julie thought, I can do that. I’ll try to make extra-special valentines.
The first name on the list that her teacher had given her was Kim Anderson. Julie remembered Kim because she seemed nice. “I like cats and picnics,” Kim had said. So I’ll draw a picture of a cat having a picnic for Kim’s valentine, Julie decided.
She read the other names on the list and remembered what six of the children had said that they liked. For those that she couldn’t remember, she decided to draw hearts and cute stuffed animals.
When Julie explained her plan, Mom smiled and took her to the crafts store for supplies. Julie was picking out poster board when her stomach began to itch. She scratched it with her left hand and grabbed a sheet of pink poster board with her right one.
Back in the car Julie scratched her stomach again. Mom peeked under Julie’s sweater. “Oh, honey,” she said, “you’re coming down with the chicken pox. No wonder you didn’t feel well this morning.”
They drove right to Dr. Elder’s. “You just have a mild case of chicken pox,” he said. “Take it easy and don’t scratch. And no school for about a week.”
“No school!” Julie wailed when she got home. “Can’t I at least go to the party? I was going to make lots of friends with my special valentines.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but there will be other ways to make new friends when you can go back to school—you’ll see.”
The next morning Julie watched through the living room window as other children walked to school. She saw Kim and another girl from her class and plenty of children whom she didn’t know. They all chattered happily as they walked, making Julie feel lonelier than ever.
Even though Mom smeared lotion on Julie’s itchy blisters and read stories to her and played games with her, when two o’clock came, she felt especially sad because that was the time that the valentine party was supposed to start.
“I would have taken your valentines to school if I’d realized how much it meant to you,” Mom said.
“I didn’t make them, anyway,” Julie reminded her mom. “I was too tired to cut out that many hearts.”
Mom nodded. “That’s too much cutting for a girl with chicken pox.”
Then Julie had an idea. She could make one valentine by the time the children walked home from school. Working fast, she drew a giant heart on the poster board and cut it out and used a red crayon to write “Let’s be friends” on it. Then she drew a cat having a picnic, a truck, a horse, a baseball bat, a dog, some flowers, and some hearts. At the bottom she added, “I’m sick with chicken pox, but I’d still like to be your valentine. Julie.”
Mom helped her tape the giant heart to the living room window.
Soon dozens of children were walking past her house. They all looked at her valentine, but she didn’t recognize any of them. Then Kim came down the street. As soon as she saw the window, she pointed at it and called to other kids. Julie recognized them—they were her new classmates! She waved to them, but they had gathered together and were talking and didn’t wave back. Still talking, they sat on Julie’s lawn and acted very busy.
At last they stood, walked up to Julie’s front door, dropped envelopes into the mail slot and grinned and waved to her as they went on down the street.
Julie waved back enthusiastically, a big smile on her own face. Then she sat on the sofa and opened the envelopes. What fun it was. She had valentines from five children in her class—and even some from children in other classes! Her favorite one had a picture of a cat saying:
“To my chicken-pox valentine—
Get well so that we can have a picnic together.
Your friend,Kim.”

During a recent stake conference assignment I attended in the Philippines, my heart was broken as I learned of the tragic experience of Brother Daniel Apilado. Brother Apilado and his wife were baptized in 1974. They embraced the restored gospel and were sealed in the temple. Thereafter, they were blessed with five beautiful children. On July 7, 1997, while Brother Apilado was serving as the stake president, a fire broke out in their small home. Brother Apilado’s oldest son, Michael, rescued his father, pulled him from the burning structure, and then ran back into the house to rescue others. It was the last time Brother Apilado saw his son alive. Taken in the fire were Brother Apilado’s wife, Dominga, and each of their five children.
The fact that Brother Apilado was living a life pleasing unto God when tragedy struck did not prevent the tragedy, nor did it make him immune from the sorrow that followed. But his faithfulness in keeping his covenants and exercising his faith in Christ gave him assurance in the promise that he will be reunited with his wife and family. This hope became an anchor to his soul.14
During my visit, Brother Apilado, now the stake patriarch, introduced me to his new wife, Simonette, and to their two sons, Raphael and Daniel. Truly, Jesus Christ can and will “bind up the brokenhearted.”15
In sharing Brother Apilado’s story, I am concerned that the enormity of his loss may cause many to think their own sorrows and sufferings are of little consequence in comparison. Please don’t compare, but seek to learn and apply eternal principles as you wade through the furnace of your own afflictions.

I was nervous because I couldn’t help but think about my friend Danny (name has been changed). For months Danny had been talking about how much he looked forward to serving a mission. But that changed after he met with the bishop.
Because Danny had engaged in unworthy behavior with several young women, he later told me, he had disqualified himself from full-time missionary service. He was no longer free to choose a mission.
Danny, in the words of President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, had fallen to Satan’s temptation “to misuse [his] moral agency.”1
True freedom, as For the Strength of Youth teaches, comes when we use our agency to choose obedience. Loss of freedom, as Danny learned, comes from choosing disobedience.
“While you are free to choose your course of action, you are not free to choose the consequences. Whether for good or bad, consequences follow as a natural result of the choices you make.”2
Because the scriptures teach that we are “free to choose,” “free to act,” and free to do things “of [our] own free will” (2 Nephi 2:27; 10:23; D&C 58:27; Helaman 14:30), we often use the term “free agency.”
But did you know that the phrase “free agency” does not appear in the scriptures? Instead, the scriptures teach “that every man may act in doctrine and principle … according to the moral agency which I have given unto him, that every man may be accountable for his own sins” (D&C 101:78; emphasis added).
Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has taught: “The word agency appears [in scriptures] either by itself or with the modifier moral. … When we use the term moral agency, we are appropriately emphasizing the accountability that is an essential part of the divine gift of agency. We are moral beings and agents unto ourselves, free to choose but also responsible for our choices.”3
President Packer adds, “Agency is defined in the scriptures as ‘moral agency,’ which means that we can choose between good and evil.”4 This God-given gift means we are “free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil” (2 Nephi 2:27).
Because moral agency plays an important role in the plan of salvation, Satan sought to destroy it in the premortal world. He was cast out for his rebellion and now seeks “to deceive and to blind men, and to lead them captive at his will” (Moses 4:3–4).
Satan wants us to make choices that limit our freedom, lead to bad habits and addictions, and leave us powerless to resist his temptations. The beauty of the gospel is that it makes us aware of our choices and the consequences of those choices. Wise use of agency keeps our choices open and improves our ability to choose correctly.
When the plan of salvation was presented in the Grand Council in Heaven, the Savior showed us how to use our moral agency correctly. He said, “Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever” (Moses 4:2). Because He was willing to do the will of the Father then and later in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross (see Matthew 26:39; Luke 22:42), Jesus paid the price for our bad choices and provided a way for us to be forgiven through repentance.
If we follow the Savior’s example, instead of saying, “I do what I want,” we will declare, “I do what the Father wants.”5 Using our moral agency this way will bring us freedom and happiness.
As I went to see my bishop for my first mission interview, I was grateful I had made good choices. A few months later I was serving the Lord in Guatemala—teaching others the plan of salvation and the vital role moral agency plays in that plan.