Gospel Story Finder

Would you be a little nervous if you were called to be a home teacher to the prophet and his family? This is just what happened to William Cahoon, a young man who lived in Kirtland; and he was, in fact, a bit anxious about this responsibility.
“I was called and ordained to act as a teacher to visit the families of the Saints,” he said. “I got along very well till I found that I was obliged to call and pay a visit to the Prophet. Being young, … I felt my weakness in visiting the Prophet and his family in the capacity of a teacher. I almost felt like shrinking from duty. Finally I went to his door and knocked, and in a minute the Prophet came to the door. I stood there trembling, and said to him:
“‘Brother Joseph, I have come to visit you in the capacity of a teacher, if it is convenient for you.’
“He said ‘Brother William, come right in, I am glad to see you; sit down in that chair there and I will go and call my family in.’
“They soon came in and took seats. He then said, ‘Brother William, I submit myself and family into your hands,’ and then took his seat. ‘Now Brother William,’ said he ‘ask all the questions you feel like.’
“By this time all my fears and trembling had ceased, and I said, ‘Brother Joseph, are you trying to live your religion?’
“He answered ‘Yes.’
“Then I said, ‘Do you pray in your family?’
“He said, ‘Yes.’
“‘Do you teach your family the principles of the gospel?’
“He replied, ‘Yes, I am trying to do it.’
“‘Do you ask a blessing on your food?’
“He answered, ‘Yes.’
“‘Are you trying to live in peace and harmony with all your family?’
“He said that he was.
“I turned to Sister Emma, his wife, and said ‘Sister Emma, are you trying to live your religion? Do you teach your children to obey their parents? Do you try to teach them to pray?’
“To all these questions, she answered, ‘Yes, I am trying to do so.’
“I then turned to Joseph and said, ‘I am now through with my questions as a teacher; and now if you have any instructions to give, I shall be happy to receive them.’
“He said, ‘God bless you, Brother William; and if you are humble and faithful, you shall have power to settle all difficulties that may come before you in the capacity of a teacher.’
“I then left my parting blessing upon him and his family, as a teacher, and took my departure” (quoted in Marion G. Romney, “The Responsibilities of Home Teachers,” Ensign, Mar. 1973, 14–15).

Nine-year-old David O. McKay sat cross-legged on the floor in front of a warm fire in the front room of the McKay home in Huntsville, Utah. Sitting next to him on a handwoven rug was his seven-year-old brother, Thomas, and his sisters, Jennette, four, and Annie, two. The children were thrilled to have their father home for the first evening in over two years.
David McKay, after whom David O. had been named, had just returned from serving a mission in Scotland—the land of his birth—and the children were anxious to hear of their father’s adventures in that far-off land. This was the first time that little Annie had even seen her father, because she had been born ten days after he left for his mission. However, she quickly made friends with this gentle, bearded man, and they developed a special relationship.
As David told the children about Scotland, describing the music of the bagpipes, the fields of heather, the castles, and the thousands of sheep dotting the hillsides, one of the children asked him if he had seen any miracles while he was on his mission. David’s eyes met those of his wife, Jennette, and he replied as he put his arm around her, “Your mother is the greatest miracle that I have ever seen on this earth.” The McKay children remembered those words the rest of their lives, and they were taught by their father to love their mother and to appreciate the many things that she did for them each day.

Just as in graphic design, sometimes in life a visual, tangible pattern replaces a mental one. We often learn from the service of others. I still remember the first time as ward executive secretary that I couldn’t completely fill the bishop’s interview schedule. The bishop, however, reminded me that the Lord was in charge and He knew who needed to see the bishop that day—even if we didn’t. And sure enough, every time we had this “problem,” the phone would ring or someone would stop in to ask if the bishop had any time. And because of his inspired leadership, he did have time.

Fifth grade was a hard year for me. I’d had the same group of friends for several grades, and I thought that we would always be friends. But soon after fifth grade started, my friends started using bad language and acting in ways I knew Heavenly Father wouldn’t like. They also started being mean to other kids in our class and talking about people behind their backs.
Eventually I became one of those kids my friends made fun of. They even gave me a mean nickname: Big-Lip Charlotte, or “BLC” for short. My feelings were so hurt. I started trying to avoid my friends at school, but it was hard because we were in the same class.
“Hey, guys!” I said one day at lunch, trying to be friendly and cheerful.
“Hey, BLC! Big-Lip Charlotte!” they chorused together as they made faces at me.
I ran away, trying to hold back tears. I ate lunch by myself and counted the minutes until I could go home.
“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Mom when she noticed my tear-stained cheeks after school.
“The kids who used to be my friends have started calling me a horrible name. I just don’t understand why they have to be so mean to me.” I started to cry again.
“Those kids shouldn’t be acting that way. But it really doesn’t matter what other people think of you. You’re beautiful, and you have no reason to listen to what those mean kids say.”
“But, Mom,” I said. “I see them every day. I do care what they think of me. And other people listen to what they say about me. How can I just ignore everyone?”
“Charlotte, the only opinions that really matter are yours and the Lord’s. If you’re OK with yourself and what you do, and if Heavenly Father is OK with your choices, it doesn’t matter what people call you or say about you. I promise.”
As I went to school the next few weeks, my old friends still laughed at me and called me names. But I soon found that I could walk around with peace in my heart. I knew that if Heavenly Father was OK with my big lips, then I could be too.
I was able to get through the rest of fifth grade. I ended up making new friends who didn’t call me names and who helped me feel good about myself. Most important, though, I learned that if Heavenly Father is pleased with who I am, then I don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks.

As a bishop, I worried about any members who were inactive, not attending, not serving. Such was my thought one day as I drove down the street where Ben and Emily Fullmer lived. Aches and pains of advancing years caused them to withdraw from activity to the shelter of their home—isolated, detached, shut out from the mainstream of daily life and association. Ben and Emily had not been in our sacrament meeting for many years. Ben, a former bishop, would sit constantly in his front room reading and memorizing the New Testament.

I was en route from my uptown sales office to our plant on Industrial Road. For some reason I had driven down First West, a street which I never had traveled before to reach the destination of our plant. Then I felt the unmistakable prompting to park my car and visit Ben and Emily, even though I was on my way to a meeting. I did not heed the impression at first but drove on for two more blocks; however, when the impression came again, I returned to their home.

It was a sunny weekday afternoon. I approached the door to their home and knocked. I heard the tiny fox terrier dog bark at my approach. Emily welcomed me in. Upon seeing me, she exclaimed, “All day long I have waited for my phone to ring. It has been silent. I hoped the postman would deliver a letter. He brought only bills. Bishop, how did you know today is my birthday?”

I answered, “God knows, Emily, for He loves you.”

In the quiet of their living room, I said to Ben and Emily, “I really don’t know why I was directed here today, but I was. Our Heavenly Father knows. Let’s kneel in prayer and ask Him why.” This we did, and the answer came. As we arose from our knees, I said to Brother Fullmer, “Ben, would you come to priesthood meeting when we meet with all the priesthood and relate to our Aaronic Priesthood boys the story you once told me when I was a boy, how you and a group of boys were en route to the Jordan River to swim one Sunday, but you felt the Spirit direct you to attend Sunday School. And you did. One of the boys who failed to respond to that Spirit drowned that Sunday. Our boys would like to hear your testimony.”

“I’ll do it,” he responded.

I then said to Sister Fullmer, “Emily, I know you have a beautiful voice. My mother has told me so. Our ward conference is a few weeks away, and our choir will sing. Would you join the choir and attend our ward conference and perhaps sing a solo?”

“What will the number be?” she inquired.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’d like you to sing it.”

She sang. He spoke to the Aaronic Priesthood. Hearts were gladdened by the return to activity of Ben and Emily. They rarely missed a sacrament meeting from that day forward. The language of the Spirit had been spoken. It had been heard. It had been understood. Hearts were touched and souls saved. Ben and Emily Fullmer had come home.

In 1978, I stood on a football field in a stadium packed with 65,000 fans. In front of me were several very large opponents who looked like they wanted to take my head off. It was my first game as a starting quarterback in the National Football League, and we were playing the reigning Super Bowl champions. To be honest, I questioned whether I was good enough to be on the field. I dropped back to throw my first pass, and as I released the ball, I was hit harder than I’d ever been hit before. At that moment, lying under a pile of those massive athletes, I wondered what I was doing there. I had a decision to make. Would I let my doubts overtake me, or would I find courage and strength to get up and to carry on?
I didn’t realize at the time how this experience would prepare me for future opportunities. I needed to learn that I could be strong and courageous in the face of difficult situations.

I was fortunate enough to be one of the staff members who got to give out these wonderful cards in their department. There were smiles and tears as staff were moved that these thank-you cards were addressed to them. They were thanked for their individual tasks and contributions throughout the pandemic. One member of staff said that it meant more to them than anything else they received so far, because it was meant just for her.

The first thing you can do is talk to them. It may not be easy at first, but it will be worth it. “My dad and I talked,” says a teenage school student I know, “but we never really sat down and had serious talks about what’s going on in my life, about problems I had, or things I wanted to accomplish. As a matter of fact, the first time I ever had a serious talk with my dad was when he was a bishop and had to interview me on my birthday.
“That interview really helped me see that I could improve our communication if I made the effort to help him. Things didn’t change from one day to the next, but since then, he and I both have tried harder to find the time to sit down together once in a while and talk.”

Have you ever dreamed about being in the Olympics? Rachel and Nathan P. have—but their dreams are not about twirling across the ice or lunging across the finish line. At “Dress for Your Dreams” day at school, they dressed for the Olympic event they dream about—archery.
It’s a sport they practice about four times a week. Nathan, age 10, first tried archery at Cub Scout camp a few years ago. Then Rachel, age 12, discovered that she liked it too. Now they’re both winning trophies and medals at regional and national archery tournaments.
Rachel and Nathan live in Ledyard, Connecticut, not too far from the ocean. When they practice in their backyard, they each shoot 72 arrows. If it’s rainy or cold, they practice in their basement.

Our missionaries serving throughout the world are beautiful examples of those who are truly ambitious for Christ. A few years ago, Sister Yamashita and I served in the Japan Nagoya Mission. Our missionaries were so ambitious for Christ. One of those missionaries was a young man named Elder Cowan.

Elder Cowan did not have a right leg because of a bicycle accident as a youth. A few weeks after he entered the mission, I received a phone call from his companion. Elder Cowan’s prosthetic leg had broken while he was riding his bike. We took him to a good repair facility, and there in a private room, I saw his leg for the first time. I realized how much pain he had been suffering. His prosthetic leg was repaired, and he returned to his area.

However, as the weeks went by, the prosthesis continued to break again and again. The area medical adviser recommended that Elder Cowan return home for a possible mission reassignment. I resisted this advice because Elder Cowan was a great missionary and he had a strong desire to remain in Japan. Gradually, though, Elder Cowan began to approach his physical limit. In spite of this, he did not murmur or complain.

Again, I was advised that Elder Cowan be allowed to serve in a place that did not require him to ride a bike. I pondered this situation. I thought about Elder Cowan and his future, and I prayed about the matter. I felt impressed that, yes, Elder Cowan should return home and await reassignment. I phoned him and expressed my love and concern and told him of my decision. He did not say anything in reply. I could only hear him weeping on the other end of the phone. I said, “Elder Cowan, you don’t have to answer me right now. I will call you tomorrow. Please consider my recommendation with sincere prayer.”

When I called him the next morning, he humbly said he would follow my counsel.

During my final interview with him, I asked him this question: “Elder Cowan, did you request on your missionary application to be sent to a mission where you would not have to ride a bike?”

He said, “Yes, President, I did.”

I responded, “Elder Cowan, you were called to the Japan Nagoya Mission, where you would have to ride a bike. Did you tell this to your stake president?”

I was surprised by his answer. He said, “No, I didn’t. I determined that if that is where the Lord called me, I would go to the gym and train my body to be able to ride a bike.”

At the conclusion of our interview, he asked me this question with tears in his eyes: “President Yamashita, why did I come to Japan? Why am I here?”

I answered him without hesitation: “Elder Cowan, I know one reason you came here. You came here for my benefit. I have come to understand what a great young man I have been serving with. I am blessed to know you.”

I am happy to report that Elder Cowan returned to his loving home and was reassigned to serve in a mission where he could use a car for his travel. I am proud not only of Elder Cowan but also of all the missionaries throughout the world who serve willingly without murmuring or complaining. Thank you, elders and sisters, for your faith, your focus, and your strong ambition for Christ.

Mandy dropped her book beneath the tree and excitedly ran to the fence. Next door a large truck had just pulled up at the curb.
Mandy watched closely as two men began to unload furniture from the truck. She wished very hard that the new neighbors would have to have a girl her age! All the other neighborhood kids were either older or younger than she was. It would be wonderful to have a friend her own age to talk to.
As Mandy stood watching and wishing, a car pulled up behind the large truck. A man and woman climbed out—and a girl just Mandy’s size!
“Hello!” Mandy called out.
The girl didn’t answer.
“Hello, there!” Mandy called again.
The parents were busy talking to the men who were unloading the truck, and the new girl was just staring at the house. She didn’t turn around.
Mandy felt disappointed as the girl followed her parents into the house. With a sigh, Mandy sat down under the tree again and tried to read her book. She couldn’t concentrate, though. She was too busy watching to see if the new girl would come back outside.
It wasn’t until the truck was nearly empty that the neighbors reappeared. Mandy ran to the fence and tried again. “Hello!” she called out loudly.
The new girl still didn’t turn around. Her mother heard, though. She motioned to her daughter and pointed to Mandy. The girl turned and smiled.
Now that’s better. She must have been too busy thinking about something to hear me before, Mandy decided.
“My name’s Mandy. What’s yours?”
The new girl didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and motioned to her mother. The mother nodded, and they both walked over to the fence where Mandy stood.
“Hello, Mandy. I’m Mrs. Henderson, and this is Carol.”
“Hello, Carol.”
Carol smiled shyly but still didn’t say anything.
“Please forgive Carol for not speaking to you,” continued Mrs. Henderson. “She was born deaf. Because she can’t hear, she can’t speak well enough for you to understand her. But I know she’d like to be your friend.”
Mr. Henderson called to his wife, and she hurried back to the truck. Carol stayed by the fence and continued to smile at Mandy, but her eyes were looking all over the yard.
Mandy could feel her face turning hot with embarrassment. Now what do I do? she worried. How can I be friends with someone who can’t hear or speak? Carol and I can’t just sit and smile at each other all day.
Suddenly Carol turned and ran to her father. She made motions asking for help. Smiling fondly at her, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a book, and gave it to her. When Carol ran back to the fence, she pointed to the gate and looked at Mandy questioningly.
“You want to come in?” asked Mandy. Then she thought, How dumb, talking to her like that. She can’t hear me.
But Carol was looking closely at Mandy and understood what Mandy had said. She nodded her head.
Mandy nodded back and watched while Carol ran to the gate and let herself in.
Carol went quickly to the tree and sat down. She motioned for Mandy to join her.
Mandy wasn’t quite sure what to do, but Carol patted the ground beside her, so Mandy sat down and leaned against the tree trunk while Carol opened the book.
Carol pointed to the word tree in the book, then touched the tree they were leaning against.
“Tree?” asked Mandy.
When Carol could see that Mandy understood, she nodded.
Carol started to giggle, then Mandy giggled too. They laughed so hard that they both fell backward and bumped their heads against the tree.
O-u-c-h, spelled Mandy from the book.
Tears of laughter rolled down Carol’s cheeks.
This is going to be fun, thought Mandy. She pointed at the word f-r-i-e-n-d in the book and gave Carol a big hug.

In addition to the summer farm work, Franklin’s father kept him busy at home. To make sure he didn’t run out of jobs around the house and to develop his sense of responsibility, his father had fifty chickens in the backyard. Franklin had to feed and water the chickens, keep the chicken huts clean, and gather the eggs. Since there were more eggs laid than the family needed, he was allowed to sell the extra eggs and keep the money. Brother Richards said, “I’m grateful that I had a father and mother who taught me the joy of working, the value of spending less than I made, and the importance of paying my tithing.”

It was ten-year-old Joshua’s turn to teach the family home evening lesson. It was on faith. When he finished, he told his family, “If you have faith, you can do anything.”
His mother replied, “Well, almost anything.”
“No, Mom.” Joshua said. “You can do anything.”
Little did the Dennis family know that within days, their faith would be tested. On Friday, 22 September 1989, Joshua went with his dad and other leaders and members of a Boy Scout troop from Kearns, Utah, to explore an abandoned mine. After looking around inside the mine for some time, Joshua and some of the Scouts decided to turn back. They met Joshua’s dad and some other Scouts heading out of the mine, and Joshua gave his flashlight to his dad, who was leaving the tunnel with a visually handicapped boy.
Then Joshua decided to follow some older Scouts back into the mine tunnel, but they did not know that Joshua was behind them. They began to run. Joshua couldn’t keep up with them and was soon left behind in total darkness. He couldn’t even see his hand in from of his face.
He turned around and tried to feel his way back to the entrance, but he made a wrong turn and slid down a slope. He climbed back up but went too far and ended up in an ore stope—a cavity where ore has been mined out—about two meters wide and seven meters deep. The stope was almost impossible to see from the main tunnel below because of rocks.
“I tried to find my way out for a long time,” Joshua recalled. He yelled, but his cries were muffled and no one heard him. By this time, he was tired and cold and his feet were wet. “I knew I was lost, and I realized I had better just sit down and wait,” he said.
Joshua slept a lot. Sometimes he would stand up and stretch or just sit and think. For five days Joshua had no food or water and only his coat to keep him warm in the 10° C temperature.
But he wasn’t afraid. “I prayed a lot that Heavenly Father would help me,” he said, and his prayers were answered with a feeling of comfort and with faith that he would be found. “I felt that I was being watched over by Heavenly Father.”
While Joshua was praying, friends and family were also fasting and praying that he would be found in safety. His parents waited anxiously for reports on the search for their son.
Many volunteers helped search the surrounding foothills, which are full of abandoned mines and air shafts. At least seven times some of them passed within forty meters of Joshua.
The longer the search continued, the more certain many people became that Joshua was not in the mine but had wandered away from it. Search dogs, helicopters, and people on horseback and on foot searched the cliff-lined hills of nearby Dry Canyon. There was no trace of the boy.
Inside the mine, Joshua waited calmly for someone to find him. To help pass the time, he sang “I Am a Child of God” and other songs that he had learned in Primary.
As each day passed, the chance of finding Joshua alive grew less, but members of the rescue team were determined to not give up.
When the search party came out of the mine after another unsuccessful rescue attempt on the afternoon of the fifth day, a Church member, John Skinner, persuaded the men in charge to let him go in with the other searchers for a final attempt. “I just had a feeling that he was still in the mine and that he was still alive,” he explained.
John Skinner had explored the Hidden Treasure Mine 120 times and was very familiar with the dozens of passages that wind through the eight levels. He could picture in his mind at least three places where Joshua might be. One of those places was the ore stope.
As the other searchers made another sweep through the mine, he, Ray Guymon, and Gary Christensen separated from the group, and John Skinner led them to the sections of the mine where he thought the boy might be. When they finally came to the ore cavity, they heard a faint cry for help but were not sure what it was. They remained still until they heard it again. The excitement grew as they and Joshua yelled back and forth, trying to find each other in the darkness.
“My heart just started pumping and pounding,” recalled Gary Christensen, the first to reach Joshua. “I wrapped my arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around me.”
“I felt like we were led there by the Lord,” Ray Guymon said.
All three men said it was very difficult to describe the feelings they had when they found Joshua, whom they had never seen before.
“I felt like he was my own,” Gary Christensen said. “I was just really happy inside.”
“It was an overwhelming feeling when we found him,” John Skinner said.
As Joshua was brought out of the mine, there were tears of joy and relief on the faces of many. Joshua, although excited, remained calm—he had not doubted that he would be found.
Because there was no light inside the mine, Joshua had lost track of time. He was surprised when he found out that he had been lost for so long. Dehydrated from going so long without water, and suffering mild frostbite on his feet, he was flown to a hospital, where he rested and doctors examined him.
At first the doctors thought they would have to amputate his little toes. But all he lost was some skin from his feet. He had to be in a wheelchair for about a week. Physical therapy strengthened his leg and foot muscles, and before long he was walking, running, and even riding his skateboard again.
Joshua received more than a thousand letters, many from other school children who wanted to know more about him and his experience. While he was lost, the students at Fox Hills Elementary School, where he was in the fifth grade, tied yellow ribbons on the fences all around their school to show that they were thinking about him and hoping that he would be back soon. It really made Joshua feel good to know that so many people cared about him. He tells everyone, “Heavenly Father does answer your prayers. Have faith and don’t give up.”

This time things were different. President Spencer W. Kimball asked the members of the church to fast and pray about the weather situation, the bitter cold and snow in some areas and the drought in others. It was an inspiring feeling to know that I was joining hundreds of thousands of people in doing what a prophet of God asked, and that feeling motivated me to succeed.
But even though I did not eat or drink for twenty-four hours, I was not really satisfied with my effort. The day hadn’t been much different from most Sundays, and it seemed to me that if fasting were important, it should make a difference. I knew that it was important, so I concluded that I must not be doing it right.
I decided to study the scriptures concerning the principles and practices of fasting.
Then, to supplement my scripture reading, I read some fasting guidelines given us by modern-day prophets. They were clear in saying that a proper observance of fast day means abstaining from food and drink for two consecutive meals, attending fast and testimony meeting, and paying a generous fast offering.
With this information and an intense desire to really do what was right, I was ready to experiment upon the words I had studied. I knew the law of the fast, and I knew that I could observe the outward letter of the law. But it is the spirit of the law that can really change our lives. I decided to concentrate on the following five areas in trying to obtain the spirit of fasting:
1. A spirit of love for God and for my fellow beings. These two most important goals need constant work and attention. Not only is it difficult for me to love some people some of the time, but it is also sometimes difficult to want to love them. And when I think of loving God, I am overwhelmed to know that even my best love at this point is a weak and meager gift.
2. A spirit of sacrifice and service. Fast offerings are one sign of this spirit. Another is a willingness to share my testimony with others. I must also diligently seek other opportunities to give and to share my abundance of blessings with others. Sometimes I feel that I don’t even begin to understand what real sacrifice is.
3. A spirit of brotherhood and fellowship with the Saints. It gives me a wonderful feeling of joy to realize, when I fast, that I am joining the rest of the Church membership in this opportunity, and that we can gain power through unity.
4. A spirit of communion with God. For one day in each month I have an opportunity to put aside all distractions (except my three children, who cannot yet fully support me in my effort) and with “simplicity of intention” try to purify my heart to be one with God as I purify my body temple.
5. A spirit of self-control. To me, the exercise of my will in fasting is a sign of humility, that I submit my will to the Lord’s will, that I desire to strengthen my spiritual power and bodily discipline, and that I am willing to repent of wanting to do or doing other than what the Lord would desire.
With all of this in mind, I fasted. The first time, I fasted and prayed that I might withstand a particular temptation that had been bothering me. The results were miraculous. Not only did I withstand the temptation, but it ceased to be a temptation! Not only did I resist the sin, but I did not want to sin. And so I was immediately blessed.
I decided that it was important to my growth to fast again soon, and not wait for a whole month. This time I fasted and prayed about a decision I was having difficulty making. The pros and cons of the major alternatives seemed nearly equal, and I had been puzzling about it for several weeks. After fasting and praying about it, I suddenly knew what to do, and there was never another moment of wondering if it was the best choice.
After fasting I was intensely aware of what food I put into my mouth. Somehow my body seemed more sacred to me, and I did not want to eat anything that was impure or unnecessary. It almost seems as if fasting can help us sense what foods are really nourishing to us, and which ones pollute our physical system.
I seemed to be able to think more clearly and concisely. I was more able to concentrate with singleness of purpose when I went to the temple. Although I felt physically weak when fasting, it seemed that I was able to accomplish more and work with greater endurance afterwards.
I also felt an increased tenderness toward my husband and children, an overflowing of love and appreciation. And it seemed like I cried more during sacrament meeting, and appreciated it more. I’m sure that the meetings had not changed; instead, I was more emotionally and spiritually receptive.
Another important blessing I have received as a result of fasting is an increased ability to recognize evil influences and temptations—and to dismiss them without consideration.
As I have renewed my efforts to fast as the Lord would have me do, I have discovered some practical aids to help me. The following list contains some of these ideas.
1. Be united in fasting as a family. Take strength and motivation from the priesthood example and support each other in the effort. Those who are not yet old enough to abstain from eating and drinking can still participate in the spirit: praying, learning scripture stories, singing, counting blessings, planning service to others.
2. Plan specific service and sacrifice for others. Always give a generous fast offering and seek inspiration concerning other service the Lord desires.
3. Prepare carefully so that physical work can be held to a minimum. For me this means planning in advance what the children will wear and what they will eat. I also try to prepare appropriate Sunday activities for them before my fast begins on Saturday.
4. Prepare carefully so that my patience is not strained. Allow plenty of time to get ready for church meetings so that we don’t need to hurry.
5. Plan time for intense prayer. This is especially difficult for me now, with my three little girls always wanting to be involved in everything. Sometimes we can pray as a family; sometimes my husband and I can pray together while they are napping or sleeping; sometimes one of us can concentrate on them while the other prays alone. My best time for intense private prayer is in the middle of the night.
6. Fast and pray for a specific purpose or blessing. This might be a personal need, a family problem, a blessing for someone else, or something involving the whole Church or country, such as fasting for a change in the weather conditions.
7. Repent of sins. Seek strength to change and inspiration on how to change. Seek ways to make restitution and to receive forgiveness from those I have wronged.
8. Read, study, and ponder the scriptures. Seek to understand depths I have not yet understood. Use my husband’s resources to help answer my questions. Read topically as well as consecutively. Try to develop ways of teaching my children to know the scriptures and to love them.
9. Praise God. Show gratitude for his blessings. Sing hymns of praise to him. Rejoice in my relationship to him. Bear testimony of him and his goodness to others.
10. Avoid social conflicts and distractions. Saturday night wedding receptions, parties, dinners, sports, and Sunday dinners may not contribute to fasting and spiritual communion.
11. Record my experiences in my journal. Include praise to God, what I repent of and my plans for change, commentary on the scriptures I have read, service I plan to do, the purpose for which I fast each month, and my testimony. If we regularly make such entries in a journal, it can be a powerful tool in keeping our testimonies strong, providing direction and motivation for change, and inspiring our children and our children’s children. The miracles in our lives are quickly dimmed in our memories, but our journal entries can bring them clearly back and make us hunger for eternal life, a life of constant miracle.
Even though my fasting still cannot perfectly be called “rejoicing and prayer,” I feel much closer to that ideal than I did a year ago. I am grateful that I know that God lives, that we are his children, and that he desires that we find joy. And now I’m convinced that fasting is an integral part of that joy. It is a crucial element in our effort to eliminate every weakness, strengthen every talent, become perfect so that we can rejoin our Father in heaven. I am thankful to him for revealing fasting as a powerful tool that can help us find our way back to him.

The second summer was filled with zone conferences and youth conferences. It was great fun seeing the missionaries again. The number had grown from 80 to 160, so there were many new ones to get acquainted with.
I was enrolled in a college preparatory school, Jackson Prep, which seemed to be number one in everything—academics, sports, drama, music. I was scared to death to start there. Aside from a couple of girls in the neighborhood, I didn’t know a soul.
My classes were tough and were taught like college courses. Everyone bought their own books and we were to take notes on lectures every day. Exams were held often. To add to my potpourri of confusion, I was told that I was being watched because I was a Mormon—the only one in the entire school. I felt that I was stuck in a spot, although not necessarily a bad one. I could make it good or bad depending on one thing—my attitude.
I had all kinds of good advice from the missionaries and others on just what I should say and do, but when that first dreaded day of school arrived, I forgot it all and barely made it home and through the front door before I broke down and wailed as if my heart were broken. There sat mom hurting too, but at least she was there for me. We cried together as I explained, “Mom, the kids are so different. I can’t understand the teachers.” The teachers spoke with a strong southern accent, and I found myself writing notes from their lectures that weren’t anything near what they actually said. I hadn’t quite mastered the language yet.
“Oh,” I sobbed, “besides that, today I was one minute late for my English class. When I finally found the room, my teacher made me stand up in front of everyone and explain why I was late.” At first mom looked at me, attempting to give me some motherly consolation, but then we both started to laugh. Mom and usually dad were always there to listen as I unfolded the happenings of the day, and we found that laughing was a lot more fun than crying. Things did get better.
As I started the school year, I made some promises to my Heavenly Father. The memory of a special blessing given to us by President Ezra Taft Benson just before we came into the mission field helped me to set my goals. I knew if I did all I could to be a good example and symbol of the Church for Him that He would send special opportunities to me.
I found myself, miraculously, a member of a new madrigal singing group, a member of the chamber singers, and of the acappella choir at school. I also found great friends in my choir director and drama director. I gained many new friends as I participated in two dramatic productions that year. Getting into these activities wasn’t all my idea. I had a little mother behind me all the way, encouraging me to get involved.
Slowly but surely, I gained respect from my friends and teachers, and I almost welcomed all the teasing about being a Mormon. It wasn’t unusual at all to have someone come into my first period class waving an article they had found on the Mormon Tabernacle Choir or on the Church’s stand on abortion.
Everyone seemed interested in the Mormons, and even though they would kid me a lot, I think they were impressed that a group of people could stick to their guns and pass up liquor and tea and coffee, not just once in a while, but all the time. Defending the Church wasn’t hard anymore. It was kind of fun. Who would be up to bat next, and whose hits could I catch?
The best opportunity I had defending the Church was when I became involved with the Junior Miss Pageant as a contestant for Capitol City’s Junior Miss. Many of the senior girls were trying out, and I decided to go for it, too.
Once I was picked as one of the 20 contestants, there were dances to learn, a short course on modeling, a talent number to prepare, and studying to do for a personal interview with the judges. It was great. Twenty girls from different schools learning together and having fun and not a Mormon except me in the bunch. Excitement began to mount as the pageant drew near. Our interviews were scheduled the afternoon of the pageant.
Finally, it was my turn, and I nervously walked up the long flight of stairs to the room where the five judges awaited. At first they just visited with me. Then an older, quiet man began asking questions about my religion—tough questions. It took me back for a moment. Then I got hold of myself and answered the best way I knew how. The words flowed freely, and I felt as if my eyes were relaying the message as well as my words. I knew I received lots of extra help from above that day. What I said must have satisfied the judges because that night number 10 was crowned Capitol City’s Junior Miss—I was number 10!
As friends and mom and dad crowded around and hugged me, my mind reflected back to the hateful feelings I had felt at first after reading “the call.” Now in my heart I thanked Heavenly Father for giving me the chance. I felt so happy—happy for wonderful friends who accepted me with all kinds of southern hospitality and for friends at home who kept reassuring and encouraging me with their love. I was happy for a wonderful family like my sisters who received calls from a bawling baby sister and always ended up making her laugh. Most of all I was happy for a dad and mom who stood by through it all and guided me with all their love.
What happened to that year I was so afraid of? I shudder to think of missing my year at Prep. There was, however, a constant concern in my heart. What more can I do to let everyone know that the Church is true? A Book of Mormon with my personal testimony written in the front to each of my teachers helped satisfy that unrest. Each one promised to read that precious book.
I am now so thankful that I listened to my wonderful family and accepted the challenge of the mission field. It means so much to me to have become a part of my dad’s special calling. I grew up a lot and learned many important lessons through my experiences in Mississippi. Things that make us grow never are easy, and now when I look back, I can’t really remember the rough times. I only remember the great ones.
All the friendships I made in Mississippi continue to grow sweeter as time passes, and maybe someday some of the seeds planted there will flourish. I guess most of all I learned how to totally rely on my Heavenly Father. This lesson will stay with me not only for today but forever.

My girl friend used to be very in tune with and enthusiastic about the gospel. But recently she’s been going out with people who have different standards than the Church teaches, and as a result she’s doing things that aren’t good for her. She isn’t attending Mutual and has started drinking and dating boys with bad reputations. I wrote her a letter, telling her how much I love her and the gospel, and I asked her if there is anything I can do. She wrote back saying she knows that what she is doing is wrong. Yet, she keeps doing it. Her family is really strong in the Church. They are trying to help her, but it’s not working. This problem is tearing her apart, and it’s hurting me as well. What should I do?
“When a young person is confused and not living the correct standards, she is in need of love and understanding from those who are around her, especially her friends and family. ‘A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity’ (Prov. 17:17). You mustn’t leave her alone to face the world in this troubled time of her life. A kind and strong hand can help lead her out of despair and back into the happy and secure life of the Church. The important thing is that she realizes she is doing wrong. Someday she may realize how unhappy her life really is and do something about it. That final decision must be her own. For now you can be a friend and pray for her to have the strength to see through the dark into the light of the gospel.”
Barbara LordsAberdeen, Idaho
“Oh, boy! Does this situation sound familiar. This last year one of my close friends fell into this same situation. It was hurting me and her and everyone else involved, and it seemed that we had tried everything to help her. Then one night as I was praying for her, the idea came to hold a special fast for her. We contacted everyone who knew her and informed them of this special fast. Then after the fast we set a goal to be especially kind and loving to this girl (but not in an over-obvious way). Eventually, with the help of all these people and her family, this girl came back into the Church.
“The only advice I can give is to try what we tried. Pray and fast for her and constantly, by your actions, reassure her that she is loved. Don’t condemn her but follow the advice in 3 Nephi 18:23–24.” [3 Ne. 18:23–24]
Sherry StottBynum, Montana
“In our highly materialistic society, it’s easy to become caught up in the ‘worldly pleasures’ that are allowed to dominate in others’ lives. It is distressing when this happens to someone close to us, especially when he or she acknowledges his wrongdoing.
“As a friend you can help by continuing to show concern. Be an example and an encouragement. Invite her to join in Mutual, and in time, I’m sure she’ll come to realize that nothing can replace the gospel’s true teachings.
“Paul said that we walk by faith, not by sight. Faith is expressed in living so that our actions reflect our belief. Through consistent prayer and example, you can help lead her home, just as the lost sheep was found.
“‘Likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance’ (Luke 15:7).”
Cathy PiperHemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, England
“Before you can really help her, you must truly love her. The Lord requires a great sacrifice from us when we have a special feeling for others. He requires that we do more than express our love and feelings for the gospel through letters or other one-time attempts. Not to say that these efforts aren’t important, but show her through consistent action what your true feelings are for her. Treat her as though she were active, and soon she will assume the confidence she needs. Change comes by example and practice. Show her by your example what the gospel can do to change lives. Only then will she really desire to change. Remember who you are first, be accepting of her, and then the Spirit of the Holy Ghost will help her to change her life.”
Debbie MitchellEl Dorado Springs, Missouri
“Your problem is not as uncommon as you might think. Coming from a community where Mormons are a minority, I have faced the same problem.
“Sometimes the reason a person becomes associated with people of different standards is because no one with the same standards will take time to be her friend. We can get so wrapped up in our own problems that we don’t realize that our friends need help.
“All you can do is be her friend. A letter is a great idea, but perhaps just a little impersonal. Wouldn’t a phone call, or better yet a personal visit to your friend, be better? Let her know that you’re concerned about what’s happening to her. Call her and offer her a ride to Mutual. Take action against the problem. Don’t expect her to do it all by herself.”
Dana ReidRedwood City, California
“Somewhat the same circumstance happened to a very dear friend of mine. The solution I have found is simply to love her, to accept her, and to be there with a kind, listening ear. That is what builds a divine friendship. To love one another is God’s simple plan, and it really works. One thing you must always remember is that everyone has his own agency to choose how he wishes to live.
“I guess all you can do is wait, and pray, and realize for your own life how great the Church really is. My dear friend is now very active in the Church and will soon hold callings in it. One last word would be, ‘People take time.’”
Jane Alice KinserNorwalk, California
“The worry of rebellious children is no new concern; even the son of the prophet Alma in Book of Mormon times was led astray and was held for a time in Satan’s grasp. Much faith and many prayers pleading for his return to the faith were offered by both parents and friends.
“Of course, all wandering youth don’t have such a miraculous turnabout, but consider for a moment the teaching of Solomon, son of King David, found in Proverbs 22:6 [Prov. 22:6]: ‘Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.’ You must steadfastly continue your prayers, friendship, and good influence on this friend, and surely some day, after the rebellious streak has taken its course, your friend will find sorrow in her actions and return to the principles that she knows to be correct.”
Carol ShurtzBountiful, Utah
“While we are responsible to set a good example and strive always to encourage and uplift our fellowmen, all children of our Father in Heaven have been given agency to choose for themselves between right and wrong. Even though our desires for a person may be for their benefit, we cannot make their decisions for them.
“I experienced a similar situation several years ago. I befriended a person to try and help him, and I associated regularly with him. Although I feel I helped him, I ended up having a lot of problems, which I brought upon myself. It was a hard and painful road back.
“The best thing to do is set a good example and love and encourage her, but do not allow yourself to be adversely affected by her choices. Do what you know is right, and even though it may not help right now, sometime in the future, this girl will look back and say, ‘He was so happy and at peace. What am I doing wrong?’”
Elder Don PattersonKorea Seoul Mission
“When a person is interested in reconforming her life to meet the gospel standards, she is often frightened and reluctant for fear of rejection by active Church members. Satan is also very active in telling her she is already past hope, so why try to repent. This can be convincing to a heart that feels both confused and guilty.
“The best you can do is to let your friend know that you and others love her and that Heavenly Father loves her, too. I suggest that you call her and offer to take her to Mutual yourself, then treat her as if she were still active.
“Talk to her leaders in Mutual—her class president, adviser, and Young Women president—and ask for their help and prayers. If she turns down your offer, respect her free agency, but don’t give up. Just keep offering her a ride. And keep remembering her in your prayers.”
Mary Ann StoutRome, New York
“To help your girl friend, you must exercise your faith and prayers. You can ask her family to do the same. You must ask our Father in Heaven to help you to know what to say to your friend and how to say it so it will affect her. Don’t overwhelm her with lectures, or she will drop you and cut off communication. Pray for help and guidance and remember to let your light so shine that men may see your good works (see Matt. 5:16).
“You must set an example for her to follow. If you are strong and she is sincere about returning to the Church, she will follow what you do. You must pull her forward; don’t push from behind. She is watching you, so set the right kind of example.”
Kathy BellistonProvo, Utah

The two holdouts, Christina and Kristin, could not believe what was happening to their friends. First it was Tiffani (who had not yet been baptized, though they assumed it was inevitable), then Catlin, and now Sara. But Christina and Kristin decided they weren’t going to let religion come between them and their best friends, so they supported their friend Sara by attending her baptismal service.

Christina also experienced something completely unexpected at Sara’s baptism. Even though she had told Sara that she wanted to take the missionary lessons, she had started to doubt her decision. When she came to Sara’s baptism, Christina was still undecided. But when she met one of the sister missionaries who had taught Sara, her Christlike love erased all of Christina’s doubts. Suddenly she knew she wanted to join the Church. So Christina returned home to California, took all the discussions, and was baptized a month later, with her friend Sara in attendance at the service.

Late one afternoon we were approaching the mouth of a river at the end of Starvation Lake. As we pulled ashore, the canoe bumped a boulder. We noticed a huge mound of fur nearby. I thought it was a dead animal until it moved and Bob said, “It’s a grizzly. And it isn’t dead, it’s asleep.” We were less than 100 feet from it at that point. Suddenly, it stood up. I thought it would run away, as most bears do. But it was irritated. The hair on its neck raised up, it started swaying its head back and forth, its jaws started moving—you could hear the teeth clacking—and its ears were laid back. I grabbed the camera and Bob grabbed the gun, but we soon decided it wasn’t smart to stay close, and we backed into deeper water. Somehow we had to get by that grizzly.
We pulled into a small draw about 200 feet away and checked on the bear. It had lain back down. So we took the food packs up and came back for the canoe. When we checked on the bear again, it was gone. It couldn’t go the opposite direction from us because of cliffs. It couldn’t go to the right, because of the lake. So we knew it was either going parallel uphill or coming straight for us. It knew where we were, but we didn’t know where it was. Bears will sometimes move up your trail and intercept you, and we were both scared. We knew it might come boiling over the hill any minute. Bob said, “Dad, can we pray, please?” After a prayer and with great caution, we started up the draw, me with the canoe over my head and Bob with the gun.
We broke the ridge about 100 feet from our packs, and it was waiting there for us. If it tasted the food in the packs, we would have to kill it to keep it from destroying the entire supply, and we didn’t want to do that. As a last desperate effort, and with prayer in my heart, I raised the canoe and shouted at the top of my lungs.
The bear swung its huge head around and saw a pair of legs, a body, and a 17-foot aluminum head growling at it. It was startled so badly it took off at a dead run. It took us about four hours to shake the hollow feeling we had after that close encounter, but we both knew the prayer had helped us through.

Lorenzo Snow was still at work in his office in the Salt Lake Temple. It was dark outside, and the stars had come out. He was the fifth President of the Church, but he was also serving as the first president of the Salt Lake Temple at the time. He often stayed late into the evening to finish his work.
President Snow’s granddaughter Allie Young loved to visit him at his office. In those days, family members of the temple president were allowed to visit him there. They were not allowed to go through the entire temple, however, until they were old enough and had been found worthy and ready to make the sacred temple covenants.
This special evening Allie was with her grandfather in his office. The doorkeepers had gone home and the night watchmen had not yet come in, so they were alone. When Allie was ready to leave, President Snow went to a dresser and took a large bunch of keys from the drawer so that he could let her out the main entrance. Together they walked down a large corridor near the celestial room.
President Snow suddenly stopped and said, “Wait a moment, Allie. I want to tell you something.” Allie listened intently as her grandfather told her of an unforgettable experience he had once had at that place in the temple: “It was right here that the Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me at the time of the death of President Woodruff. He instructed me to go right ahead and reorganize the First Presidency of the Church at once and not wait as had been done after the death of the previous presidents, and that I was to succeed President Woodruff [as President of the Church].”
President Snow held out his left hand and said, “He stood right here, about three feet above the floor. It looked as though he stood on a plate of solid gold.”
Still speaking in hushed, reverent tones, President Snow told Allie that the Savior’s appearance was so glorious and bright that he could hardly look at Him.
President Snow put his right hand on Allie’s head and said, “Now granddaughter, I want you to remember that this is the testimony of your grandfather, that he told you with his own lips that he actually saw the Savior, here in the temple, and talked with him face to face.”
Allie listened to every word of this sacred experience and never forgot that precious moment but shared it many times later in her life with her family and friends.

I want to thank each of you—the translators and all those who help publish the Liahona. It is because of you that I have the blessing of holding the words of our prophets and the General Authorities in my hands.
I was baptized as a child but was lost to the Church for a long time. When I heard Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (in October 2004 general conference), he helped me believe that the Savior made it possible for me to be redeemed from my sins. I have experienced that change of heart spoken of by Alma, and my joy is complete.Araceli Arroyo Romero, Mexico