Gospel Story Finder

Halfway through my senior year of high school, I received a huge surprise. My parents had been called to preside over the Uruguay Montevideo Mission, which meant they’d be moving to the other end of the world with my four younger siblings. I was already stressed about graduating high school, but now I’d be attending college all alone, with my family on a different continent. I was terrified.
My transition from high school to college was extremely hard for me. While I was surrounded by kind roommates and thousands of students, I had never felt more alone. The pressures of school were overwhelming. I didn’t know what I wanted to study and found the classes challenging. I was also struggling through an emotionally manipulative relationship, which took a huge toll on my mental health. My fear of the future overwhelmed me.
Soon my feelings of depression, fear, and loneliness made it hard to function. Even normal routines felt impossible. One morning, I was asking Heavenly Father to give me the strength to make it through the day. “I can’t keep doing this alone,” I prayed. In a rare moment of mental and emotional clarity, I had the words come to my mind “You don’t have to.” Peace flooded my mind. The storm in my mind was calmed.
The next few months (and years) weren’t easy. My feelings of depression and loneliness didn’t instantly go away. But for the first time, I understood on a personal level what it meant to have a Savior. I knew He understood my challenges and my pain. I knew He was the only one who could help me, and He did.
Years later, I’m a returned missionary, a college graduate, and happily married. And I know I wouldn’t have achieved any of those goals if I hadn’t trusted in the Lord.

I lived this exact experience while deciding whether to accept a job offer here at BYU–Hawaii.

BYU–Hawaii Job Offer
In 2006, I was invited to be the university budget director. Most people think that is a job only an accountant can do. But I am not an accountant! I had a few accounting classes and worked in the BYU Budget Office in Provo for six years, but I am not a trained accountant.

While I loved my experience at BYU in Provo, I had left BYU and the Church Educational System two years earlier to work in private industry as an international sales and marketing manager. Part of the reason I left BYU is because I was regularly being approached with job offers to be the “controller of this” or the “chief financial officer of that” – jobs that typically require accounting expertise. I realized the longer I stayed, the more I would be limited to accounting related roles.

When I received the invitation to work at BYU–Hawaii and return to the Church Educational System I was eager because I love the mission so much, but also concerned what this might do to my career path. Surely anyone looking at my resume would presume that my efforts in sales and marketing had been unsuccessful and I was back where I belonged – in “accounting.”

Laurie and I prayed fervently, fasted often, and went to the temple multiple times trying to receive guidance. None came. The heavens seemed completely sealed.

I agonized over this decision. I was invited to visit the campus with my wife so that we could “feel the spirit of the place” and help us make our decision. This only made things more confusing.

I did feel the spirit of BYU–Hawaii and loved the thought of being here, but I also realized how very far away it was from everyone and everything I was familiar with.

Upon returning home, I had an unusual experience at work and another one at a ward function that I interpreted as God directing me not to accept the job. Absent any other direction from heaven, I decided to decline the offer.

While I was typing the email to announce my decision, a clear message came into my mind: “Don’t worry about your career. Do what is best for your family.” I stopped typing. After some additional thought and discussion with Laurie about what would be best for our family, I deleted what I had typed and replaced it with a message accepting the position.

Our experience at BYU–Hawaii has been life changing and I am so grateful God directed us here. My career has been fulfilling and I have had opportunities and experiences both at work and outside of work that I could not possibly have anticipated. I am so very grateful that God allowed me to exercise my agency, but also provided guidance when I was about to make an unfortunate choice.

There is one important lesson beyond the one Elder Scott described so accurately. Notice the divine directive that came into my mind was not, “Accept the job at BYU–Hawaii.” It was “Don’t worry about your career. Do what is best for your family.” God did not tell me how to respond to the job offer. He required me to exercise my agency to decide what was best for our family. But He also provided additional perspective and the comfort I needed to make the right choice for our family.

Many years ago, I attended Arizona State University, majoring in Religious Studies. In the midst of our studies, we received a semester-long assignment to draft a lengthy research paper known as an exegesis. We were to take a few words of scripture, sometimes a full verse or more, and study the literary, linguistic, political, cultural, historical, and religious background of the verse, to understand, as best as we can in our day, the author’s intent at the time the verse was written.

I selected for my paper a familiar verse of scripture from the first chapter of Genesis that states: “God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.” [7] Near the end of the semester, we turned in our lengthy papers. On the day they were handed back the papers were at the front of the lecture hall on a table in a large stack—and returned to us alphabetically. The professor called us up individually, one by one. My name was not called. I remember growing nervous—since my last name begins with the letter “B” I should have been one of the first students called up. I remember nervously wondering, “Where is my paper?” Finally, reaching the last paper on the table, our professor paused, holding it in his hands. He declared, “Now, we have a paper written from a most interesting perspective. We will now invite Mr. Bangerter forward to present and defend his paper during the remaining 40 minutes or so of our class.”

So, perhaps you can understand why I felt my heart pound within me as I stood and then walked down those steps to the front of the auditorium. It was not the presentation of the paper that gave rise to the concern, but the poignant questions I knew would follow. Those questions soon came as I completed my presentation, which as you can imagine, spoke from a theological perspective distinct to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In the moments that followed, I felt the comforting, strengthening, and inspiring influence of God’s Holy Spirit wash over me. That day, in that moment, a calming sense of peace washed over me, filled my mind, calmed my pounding heart, and informed my witness that day. You see, within just a few minutes all questions, consuming the remainder of that class session, focused on our divine origin as children of God and our literal understanding of the doctrine of divine parentage and divine potential. I spoke that day from a position of truth, so the Comforter, whom the Savior promised God would send, [8] did come to me and did, in those moments, comfort my heart and my whole soul and did reveal what it means to know I am a child of God. [9]

A few years ago I received an anonymous letter from a kindhearted dentist who demonstrated brotherly love and goodwill. I’d like to share it with you:
“Dear President Monson:
“I feel remiss in that I should have sent you a thank-you note sooner. Last December I listened to your talk given during the Christmas devotional. You spoke of an older woman who could not afford to pay for the registration for an automobile she had recently purchased. Others came to her aid. All involved were touched.
“I am a dentist by profession. Not long after the devotional, my receptionist informed me that an acquaintance of hers was coming into my office. She had problems with two of her teeth. She knew this woman and told me of her circumstances. The woman carried many burdens. The family business, which she ran, was doing poorly, and the family was three months behind in paying rent. They had five children, many grown into adulthood, but all had moved back home because of difficult personal circumstances. By sheer force of will, she had kept her family together for some time. Now two teeth were broken.
“The woman arrived for her appointment and explained about her dental problem. She asked if I would allow her to pay her bill over time. She explained to me that her family had experienced several financial reversals and were just recently starting to pay some overdue bills.
“I assured her that her credit was good with me. She asked if I could repair just one of the two broken teeth at that time. I assured her that I could, and we began.
“Since I had the time, I repaired both teeth, for which she was grateful. When the work was completed, thinking of your talk, I told her that if she would not be offended, I should like to make a Christmas present of the dental work, for which there would be no bill. She was astonished. I could sense the depth of the stress and strain she had carried, as uncontrollable tears of gratitude gushed forth due to a small, simple act of kindness. It must have been years since someone showed her some little favor. Not able to speak, she made her way out.
“Both my assistant and receptionist were so moved by her reaction that they also [shed] tears and could hardly speak. I, on the other hand, was doubly glad. One part, in seeing such a simple act have such a happy effect on another. And the second part, for once in my life having a patient in my office crying for joy and not for pain!
“To you, my very best wishes.
“Sincerely,
“A brother in the gospel.”

To this day, I am deeply impressed by the way my family worked after having lost everything following World War II! I remember my father—a civil servant by education and experience—taking on several difficult jobs, among which were coal miner, uranium miner, mechanic, and truck driver. He left early in the morning and often returned late at night in order to support our family. My mother started a laundry and worked countless hours doing menial labor. She enlisted my sister and me in her business. With my bike I became the pickup and delivery service. It felt good to be able to help the family in a small way, and though I did not know it at the time, the physical labor turned out to be a blessing to my health as well.
It wasn’t easy, but the work kept us from dwelling too much on the difficulties of our circumstances. Although our situation didn’t change overnight, it did change. That’s the thing about work. If we simply keep at it—steady and constant—things certainly will improve.

After my military service, I pursued an education in military administration in the West German government. It was quite demanding, but I gained a broad background in such things as finance, real estate, legal affairs, and so forth. I also had a calling to serve in the district presidency. While my fellow students were busy studying on Sundays, I was fulfilling Church assignments and spending time with my family. It was hard, but the Lord’s promises are true, and you can rely on them. I did as well as any of my fellow students.

My dear brothers and sisters, my dear friends: During my professional life as an airline pilot, I sometimes had passengers visit the cockpit of my Boeing 747. They asked about the many switches, instruments, systems, and procedures and how all this technical equipment would help such a huge and beautiful airplane fly.
As with all pilots, I enjoyed the fact that they were impressed by the apparent complexity of this plane and that they wondered what kind of magnificent and brilliant person it takes to operate it! At this point of my story, my wife and children would kindly interrupt and say with a twinkling in their eyes, “Pilots are born with a great measure of natural humility!”
To the visitors in my cockpit, I would explain that it takes a great aerodynamic design, many auxiliary systems and programs, and powerful engines to make this flying machine equal to the task of bringing comfort and safety to those joining the flight.
To simplify my explanation by focusing on the basics, I would add that all you really need is a strong forward thrust, a powerful upward lift, and the right aircraft attitude, and the laws of nature will carry the 747 and its passengers safely across continents and oceans, over high mountains and dangerous thunderstorms to its destination.
In recent years I have often contemplated that being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints invites us to ask similar questions. What are the basics, the fundamental principles of our membership in the kingdom of God on earth? After all is said and done, what will really carry us at times of greatest need to our desired eternal destination?
The Church, with all its organizational structure and programs, offers many important activities for its members aimed at helping families and individuals to serve God and each other. Sometimes, however, it can appear that these programs and activities are closer to the center of our heart and soul than the core doctrines and principles of the gospel. Procedures, programs, policies, and patterns of organization are helpful for our spiritual progress here on earth, but let’s not forget that they are subject to change.
In contrast, the core of the gospel—the doctrine and the principles—will never change. Living according to the basic gospel principles will bring power, strength, and spiritual self-reliance into the lives of all Latter-day Saints.
Faith is such a principle of power. We need this source of power in our lives. God works by power, but this power is usually exercised in response to our faith. “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:20). God works according to the faith of His children.
The Prophet Joseph Smith explained, “I teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves” (quoted by John Taylor, in “The Organization of the Church,” Millennial Star, Nov. 15, 1851, 339). To me, this teaching is beautifully straightforward. As we strive to understand, internalize, and live correct gospel principles, we will become more spiritually self-reliant. The principle of spiritual self-reliance grows out of a fundamental doctrine of the Church that God has granted us—agency. I believe that moral agency is one of the greatest gifts of God unto His children, next to life itself.
When I study and ponder moral agency and its eternal consequences, I realize that we are truly spirit children of God and therefore should act accordingly. This understanding also reminds me that as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are part of a great worldwide family of Saints.
The organizational structure of the Church allows great flexibility according to the size, growth pattern, and needs of our congregations. There is the basic unit program with a very simple organizational structure and fewer meetings. We also have large wards with great organizational resources to serve one another. All are established within the inspired programs of the Church to help members “come unto Christ, and be perfected in him” (Moroni 10:32).
All these varied options are equal in divine value because the doctrine of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is the same in each unit. I testify as an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ that He lives, that the gospel is true, and that it offers the answers to all personal and collective challenges the children of God have on this earth today.
This summer my wife and I visited with members of the Church in many countries throughout Europe. In some parts of Europe the Church has been present for many years, even since 1837. There is a great heritage of faithful members in Europe. Currently we have more than 400,000 members in Europe. As we look at all the generations who have emigrated from Europe to America during the 19th and 20th centuries, that total number could easily be multiplied a few times.
Why did so many faithful members leave their home countries in those early days of the Church? Many reasons can be named: to escape persecution, to help build the Church in America, to improve their economic circumstances, the desire to be close to a temple, and many more.
Europe still feels the consequence of this exodus. But the strength that comes from several faithful generations of Church members is now becoming more apparent. We see more young men and women and more senior couples serve missions for the Lord; we see more temple marriages; we see more confidence and courage by the members to share the restored gospel. Among the peoples of Europe and many other parts of the world, there is a spiritual vacuum of Christ’s true teachings. This vacuum must, can, and will be filled with the message of the restored gospel as our wonderful members live and proclaim this gospel with greater courage and faith.
With the expansion of the Church in Europe, there are now countries where the Church has been for less than 15 years. I spoke with a mission president serving in his homeland of Russia who has been a member for only seven years. He told me, “The same month I was baptized I was called as a branch president.” Did he feel overwhelmed at times? Absolutely! Did he try to implement the full range of Church programs? Fortunately not! How did he grow so strong in such a small congregation in such a short time? He explained, “I knew with all my soul the Church was true. The doctrine of the gospel filled my mind and my heart. As we joined the Church, we felt part of a family. We felt warmth, trust, and love. We were only few, but we all tried to follow the Savior.”
They supported each other, they did the best they could, and they knew the Church was true. It was not the organization that had attracted him, but the light of the gospel, and this light strengthened those good members.
In many countries the Church is still in its beginnings, and the organizational circumstances are sometimes far from perfect. However, the members may have a perfect testimony of the truth in their hearts. As the members will stay in their countries and build the Church, despite economic challenges and hardships, future generations will be grateful to those courageous modern-day pioneers. They abide by the loving invitation of the First Presidency given in 1999:
“In our day, the Lord has seen fit to provide the blessings of the gospel, including an increased number of temples, in many parts of the world. Therefore, we wish to reiterate the long-standing counsel to members of the Church to remain in their homelands rather than immigrate to the United States. …
“As members throughout the world remain in their homelands, working to build the Church in their native countries, great blessings will come to them personally and to the Church collectively” (First Presidency letter, Dec. 1, 1999).
May I add a word of caution to those of us who live in large wards and stakes. We have to be careful that the center of our testimony is not located in the social dimension of the Church community or the wonderful activities, programs, and organizations of our wards and stakes. All of these things are important and valuable to have, but they are not enough. Even friendship is not enough.
We recognize that we are living in a time of turmoil, disaster, and war. We and many others feel strongly the great need for a “defense, and for a refuge from the storm, and from wrath when it shall be poured out without mixture upon the whole earth” (D&C 115:6). How do we find such a place of safety? The prophet of God, even President Hinckley, has taught: “Our safety lies in the virtue of our lives. Our strength lies in our righteousness” (in Conference Report, Oct. 2001, 112; or Ensign, Nov. 2001, 90).
Recall with me how Jesus Christ instructed His Apostles, clearly and directly, at the beginning of His mortal ministry, “[Come,] follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19). This was also the beginning of the ministry of the Twelve Apostles, and I suspect that they had a feeling of inadequacy, as I deeply have, being one who has also been called to this sacred work. May I suggest that the Savior Himself teaches us here a lesson about core doctrine and priorities in life. Individually, we need to first “follow Him,” and as we do this, the Savior will bless us beyond our own capacity to become what He wants us to be.
To follow Christ is to become more like Him. It is to learn from His character. As spirit children of our Heavenly Father, we do have the potential to incorporate Christlike attributes into our life and character. The Savior invites us to learn His gospel by living His teachings. To follow Him is to apply correct principles and then witness for ourselves the blessings that follow. This process is very complex and very simple at the same time. Ancient and modern prophets described it with three words: “Keep the commandments”—nothing more, nothing less.
Developing Christlike attributes in our lives is not an easy task, especially when we move away from generalities and abstractions and begin to deal with real life. The test comes in practicing what we proclaim. The reality check comes when Christlike attributes need to become visible in our lives—as husband or wife, as father or mother, as son or daughter, in our friendships, in our employment, in our business, and in our recreation. We can recognize our growth, as can those around us, as we gradually increase our capacity to “act in all holiness before [Him]” (D&C 43:9).
The scriptures describe a number of Christlike attributes we need to develop during the course of our lives. They include knowledge and humility, charity and love, obedience and diligence, faith and hope. These personal character qualities stand independent of the organizational status of our Church unit, our economic circumstances, our family situation, culture, race, or language. Christlike attributes are gifts from God. They cannot be developed without His help. The one help we all need is given to us freely through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Having faith in Jesus Christ and in His Atonement means relying completely on Him—trusting in His infinite power, intelligence, and love. Christlike attributes come into our lives as we exercise our agency righteously. Faith in Jesus Christ leads to action. When we have faith in Christ, we trust the Lord enough to follow His commandments—even when we do not completely understand the reasons for them. In seeking to become more like the Savior, we need to reevaluate our lives regularly and rely, through the path of true repentance, upon the merits of Jesus Christ and the blessings of His Atonement.
Developing Christlike attributes can be a painful process. We need to be ready to accept direction and correction from the Lord and His servants. This worldwide conference with its music and spoken word offers spiritual power, direction, and blessings “from on high” (D&C 43:16). It is a time when the voice of personal inspiration and revelation will bring peace to our souls and will teach us how to become more Christlike. This voice will be as sweet as the voice of a dear friend, and it will fill our souls when our hearts are sufficiently contrite.
By becoming more like the Savior, we will grow in our ability to “abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost” (Romans 15:13). We will “lay aside the things of this world, and seek for the things of a better” (D&C 25:10).
This leads me back to my aerodynamic analogy from the beginning. I spoke of focusing on the basics. Christlike attributes are the basics. They are the fundamental principles that will create “the wind beneath our wings.” As we develop Christlike attributes in our own lives, step-by-step, they will “bear [us] up as on eagles’ wings” (D&C 124:18). Our faith in Jesus Christ will provide power and a strong forward thrust; our unwavering and active hope will provide a powerful upward lift. Both faith and hope will carry us across oceans of temptations, over mountains of afflictions, and bring us safely back to our eternal home and destination.
Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

One day I was walking to work and had stopped for a traffic light. There was a strong wind whipping around the buildings. A teenage boy suddenly moved past me as I stood on the curb. He stepped into the line of traffic, which was heavy at that hour of the day. Startled, I reached out to stop him. It was then that I realized he wasn’t just a carefree youth: he was blind!
He was on his way to the Blind Center a block or two farther on. We walked that way together, friends now, as he said, since I had probably saved his life.
He explained that at the blind school he was taught to listen to the traffic before he crossed a street. However, the wind that day was so severe that he couldn’t hear the usual traffic sounds, and he’d decided to take a chance. He was grateful that I had been watching.
I asked him how long he’d been blind. He told me his story.
“When I was eight years old my sole purpose in life was to be the world’s best and most famous baseball player,” he explained. “I was practicing one afternoon when a fellow player threw the bat after a hit. It landed across my eyes. This accident brought a terrible period of tribulation for my entire family.
“I was a mess,” he said. “I lived, but there was nothing science could do to restore my sight.”
“What happened next?” I asked, intensely interested in this vigorous, handsome teenager’s story.
“I withdrew from life. I sulked. I had tantrums. I wouldn’t go to school. I wouldn’t talk to friends. I hated my family, and I especially cried out in anger against God. I mean vocally. I would shout my hate—much to my religious mother’s deep distress. This went on for many months.
“One day my father coaxed me into going outside with him to fly a kite. He said I’d be able to feel the tug on the kite. It would be exhilarating even if I couldn’t see it. We got the kite up, and I was feeling pretty good as I held the string and felt the force at work. Suddenly, the course of the breeze changed and the kite got caught in a tree.
“I was soon out of control. I screamed and lay down on the grass and kicked. Oh, I was one ugly kid. My father called for the fire department, in desperation I guess. They came and got the kite down, but it was broken. More tantrums from me.
“‘Fix it! Fix it!’ I screamed. My dad tried explaining it all to me, but I would not be comforted. It was just another of life’s rotten tricks. Then Dad took my hand and moving my fingers with his, we traced the broken crossbars of the flimsy kite.
“‘See, son,’ he said, ‘It is broken. It can’t be fixed. Any repair work, however carefully done, could add weight to the kite and it wouldn’t fly. It just can’t be fixed. Like your eyes! We’ll have to go and do something else.’”
The young man paused in his tracks, shook his head, remembering. Then he turned toward me and said, “That was the phrase that made the difference. ‘Go and do something else.’ God had given us a lot of options, and Dad would find another one for us. I’m going to the blind school now and learning a trade.”
His feet had felt the pebbles laid in the concrete in front of the school as a signal for the blind students. “I’m here,” he explained confidently. “Thanks again. Make it a good day.”
He didn’t say “Have a good day” as so many well-wishers do. He said, “Make it a good day.”

Former Primary General President Joy D. Jones recalled that as a young couple, she and her husband were called to visit and minister to a family who hadn’t been to church for many years. It was immediately clear in their first visit that they were not wanted. After the frustration of additional failed attempts, and after much sincere prayer and pondering, Brother and Sister Jones received an answer to the why of their service in this verse from the Doctrine and Covenants: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy might, mind, and strength; and in the name of Jesus Christ thou shalt serve him.” Sister Jones said:
“We realized that we were sincerely striving to serve this family and to serve our bishop, but we had to ask ourselves if we were really serving out of love for the Lord. …
“… We began looking forward to our visits with this dear family because of our love for the Lord [see 1 Nephi 11:22]. We were doing it for Him. He made the struggle no longer a struggle. After many months of our standing on the doorstep, the family began letting us in. Eventually, we had regular prayer and tender gospel discussions together. A long-lasting friendship developed. We were worshipping and loving Him by loving His children.”

Many youth in the Church have had the opportunity to do baptisms for the dead, but for the priests and Laurels of the Adelaide Australia Modbury Stake, this great blessing has come only in recent times with the completion of the Sydney Australia Temple.
Even so, the trip to Sydney was a long one. As a fund-raising project, the young people committed to deliver 50,000 telephone directories. With many ward members helping, the youth spent Saturdays and many evenings making the deliveries.
The 26 enthusiastic youth attended two baptismal sessions. Many were baptized for their own ancestors or those of other members of the stake.
What may have seemed like a trial to some when they had spent several Saturdays delivering heavy directories turned out to be one of the most wonderful experiences of their lives.

May 12. At school today some children were being mean to Billy. They were calling him names and saying unkind things. Especially Cory and Timmy. It’s because Billy is, well, different. Mom says he’s “mentally challenged.” He has a harder time learning than most children his age. But he can still go to the same school as everyone else. The teachers just help him a little more.
Anyway, I remembered what Dad had taught in family home evening, so I sat with Billy at lunch today and shared my sandwich with him. His sandwich and potato chips were soaked. Cory and Timmy had filled his lunch box full of water, then laughed and said, “We’re doing you a favor, Billy. We know you have a hard time doing things. Your lunch should go down real easy—you won’t have to chew it at all!”
May 20. Billy asked me if I wanted to go with him on his paper route after school. The other guys wanted me to play ball. So did I, but something inside me said that going with Billy was more important.
We rode our bikes. I helped carry some of the papers in a sack. Afterward, Billy bought me a soda pop. Then we went across the street and lay on the grass in the park. After a while he asked me why I wanted to be his friend, why I liked to do stuff with him. I didn’t know what to say. Finally I told him, “I guess I just like you, that’s all.”
He looked sad. “Is it because you feel sorry for me because I’m … different? Some people make fun of me because I can’t do things like other people. And some are nice because they feel sorry for me.”
I told him that I get mad when other people treat him unkindly and that at first maybe that was why I wanted to be nice. “But after a while, I started liking you because you’re you,” I said. “I like how you sound when you laugh. It makes me feel happy inside. And I like how you treat other living things. Even little things. Like the pollywogs in the creek behind the school last week. You felt bad because the sun was drying up the little ponds of water, so you put the tadpoles in that applesauce jar and moved them farther up the creek where it was deeper. Most people aren’t that kind,” I told him. “You remind me of Jesus.” His eyes got full of tears, and he didn’t say anything. He just tapped me on the arm with his fist and kept looking the other way.
June 7. Billy’s mother called me and asked if I wanted to come over and have dinner with them tonight. Billy was too shy to ask, she said, and wanted her to ask me. (Mom and Dad said it would be fine.) She also said that Billy can’t stop talking about me, that the past few weeks he’s been happier than she can ever remember. “He thinks the world of you,” she said, and she thanked me for being so good to him.
I could tell that she was crying, because her voice started breaking up. I told her that it was easy to like Billy because he was so good. I didn’t tell her, but I had been starting to feel happier inside myself than I had in a long time, and I was already happy. Dad says, “When we open our hearts to others, like Jesus did, we feel a whole different kind of joy.”
June 18. Today Billy and I saved a wild bird. A big kid named Donny, who lives close to Billy’s place, caught it and was going to hurt it. We started yelling at him, and it made him jump and the bird got away. He pushed us down, but we felt so good on the inside that it made what he did to us on the outside kind of not matter.
July 11. Our family got back this morning from a three-day trip to Buck’s Lake. I called Billy to see if we could get together, maybe go to a Saturday matinee or hike in the hills or something. His mother said he could not play … because he’d died two days ago. She began to cry, and Billy’s father got on the phone. He told me that Billy had seen a neighbor’s puppy in the street, and when he ran out to carry it to where it would be safe, he’d been hit by a car. It wasn’t the driver’s fault, Billy’s dad said. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It just happened. I asked Dad if he could give me a blessing of comfort. I guess I’m having a hard time dealing with it.
July 12. I didn’t go to Billy’s funeral today. I just couldn’t. His parents said that they understood. I know that after we die, we will see our loved ones again, and, I believe, our close friends, too. But right now I miss him so bad! We were like brothers. I guess we are brothers. Spirit brothers. And blood brothers. I know we’re spirit brothers because we are all Heavenly Father’s children. And I know we’re blood brothers because we sat under the old fig tree in the field one day and made a pact.
Maybe we can play together in the next life. There might be creeks with tadpoles, but in heaven I’m sure there will always be enough water. Maybe a fence to sit on. And clouds to watch go by.
I know Billy’s happy where he is because he was always more of heaven than of earth. But right now I miss him so much! I will never forget him. Not ever. My mom says I will always have the memories, and so, in a sense, he will always be with me. Memories are eternal, she says, like our spirits. I guess I will always hear his laughter, then. I like that.
July 14. Billy’s parents came over today. They told me how much they appreciated what I did for him. They said that I had made the last part of his life happy and meaningful. “You were a gift from God to him,” they said. I couldn’t say anything back because it’s hard to cry and talk at the same time.
After a while, I told them that Billy was a gift from God to me. That he taught me by the way he lived the things Jesus teaches us. About loving. And caring. And showing kindness to all living things.
July 25. I checked on the tadpoles in the creek today. That’s what Billy would have done. They are doing fine. And so am I.

I first began to understand the significance of the Atonement when my grandfather was dying. After attending law school, I was studying for the California bar exam when my mother called and said if I wanted to see my grandfather before he died, I better come to Utah. My grandfather, who was 86 years old, was very ill. He was so pleased to see me and share his testimony.
He had three concerns:
1. He loved his 10 children very much. They were all good people. He wanted them all to be temple worthy.
2. His father was one of the young men who had carried members of the Martin handcart company across the Sweetwater River. His father had died when my grandfather was three years old, and he looked forward to seeing him and hoped his father and other family members would approve of his life.
3. Finally, and most importantly, he told me how he looked forward to meeting the Savior. He referred to the Savior as the “Keeper of the Gate,” a reference to 2 Nephi 9:41. He told me that he hoped he had been sufficiently repentant to qualify for the Savior’s mercy.
All of us have sinned, and it is only through the Atonement that we can obtain mercy and live with God. I can remember to this day the great love that Grandfather had for the Savior and the appreciation he had for the Atonement.

Anne, Lisa, Paula, Vicki, and Joanne.* They weren’t LDS, but they were nice girls; and since there were no LDS girls in my neighborhood when my family moved in, I was grateful they befriended me and took me into their group.
A few years later, in the sixth grade, we left our little elementary school and entered junior high. Right away, things started to change. Soon our conversations began to include fashions and boys. As our seventh grade year began, I noticed that my friends were treating me a little differently. I brushed it off, but then it got worse. There was whispering that ended abruptly when I joined the group, and more pairing up between the other girls. Joanne and Vicki seemed to splinter off more, and Anne, Lisa, and Paula spent a lot of time together, but what about me?
It hurt when I learned, one Monday morning, of Friday night’s slumber party at Anne’s house. “We thought you were too busy” was supposed to be an explanation for not inviting me. Another day we were all supposed to meet at the park, but when I got there one of the girls told me that another one of the girls was mad at me, and that I’d better go.
Christmastime came, and our usual Christmas gift exchange was planned. Usually we all got together and drew names, but since I hadn’t been around someone drew a name for me. I was to buy a gift for Paula. No one had drawn my name, and they were sure that I’d be too busy for the party, so they asked me to drop my gift off at the door.
I don’t remember whether I was more hurt or angry, but I do remember trying to think of all the mean ways I could get back at them. After some thinking, it occurred to me that being mean wouldn’t be right.
Maybe the best thing to do would be nothing at all. For a while I settled on ignoring them and their party until I realized that if I didn’t give Paula a present, they might think they were justified in treating me unkindly. I decided, finally, to give Paula something beautiful to show that I could rise above pettiness and be forgiving.
The prettiest wrapping paper I could find made a lovely lining and covering for a a dainty cut-glass perfume bottle, a miniature vase with tiny dried flowers in it, other dried flowers in doll-sized bouquets, all tied with ribbons.
The most important part of the gift was the inspirational poems that I copied, in my best handwriting, on pretty stationery. Each one was rolled like a scroll, tied with a ribbon, and carefully laid in the box. Finally, the covered lid was laid on the box and tied closed with a matching ribbon. I walked to Anne’s house, where the party was being held, gave someone my gift, and left. I felt good knowing that I had done the right thing; and from that time on, although I never rejoined that group of girls, they were never unkind to me.
We graduated from junior high and went on to high school. If we happened to meet in the halls, we always acknowledged one another with a friendly hello but rarely stopped to talk. In September after high school graduation, I went away to BYU.
I came home to visit during the Thanksgiving holiday that year, and I heard that the LDS students who were attending the local junior college had planned a Thanksgiving get-together at the Institute of Religion. Everyone who’d gone away to college and come back for the holiday was invited to attend. The institute was a pretty, old-fashioned building, and I admired the French doors, and terra-cotta tiles as I walked in. Then I looked up and saw Paula. She was waiting for me with tears in her eyes.
She threw her arms around me, and after a few minutes, she explained:
“After high school the missionaries came to my house and taught me the gospel. I was baptized just a few weeks ago, and I’ve been attending institute classes.
“We were so mean to you in junior high, and I felt so bad. I’m so sorry! I loved the box you made for me, and I kept it. I love the poems. They’re spiritual and beautiful, and I re-read them all the time.”
I sure had some exciting news to tell my parents when I got home that night! Sometimes rewards for doing right come immediately, but other times not for years. I was so relieved that I hadn’t given in to my angry feelings so many years before and done something unkind. Sometimes we never learn of the good we’ve done, though the effects of our good deeds may span many lifetimes. I was glad that, during that Christmas season so long ago, I’d chosen a gift of love, a treasure, that Paula could now more fully share.

Jessica P. and Nory A., two young women who live on Santa Cruz, know this personally. They are both converts and have both seen the difference keeping the commandments makes. There aren’t very many members in the Galápagos Islands (only 125 members in their branch out of around 25,000 people on their island). It can be difficult to stay on the strait and narrow path (see 1 Nephi 8:20; 2 Nephi 4:33; 31:17–19; Alma 7:19) with temptations such as alcohol and drugs all around.
Nory has seen the challenges in her own family. A year after her family was baptized, they were sealed in the Guayaquil Ecuador Temple. Not long after, however, several members of her family fell away. For a time she and her mom were the only ones who participated in church. How did she stay strong?
“Family home evening,” she says. “For a while, just my mom and I would hold it. Later my older brother and my dad started coming. And every time we study the gospel, my dad says, ‘This is for me.’ Now he is getting stronger and my brother too.”
Jessica has faced a different struggle. “Being the only member of the Church in my family is difficult,” she explains. Some of her family members don’t like the fact that she attends church. In fact, it can lead to arguments.
“Sometimes you wish that your parents, your family, were members of the Church,” she says, “so you could share things with them. That’s hard.
“When you have problems, you can’t go looking in the street or looking to alcohol because they won’t help at all. Instead I come to church, where I have good friends.
“They help me a lot. If I’m feeling down, there’s always Nory or other young women. When I come to church, I feel alive. I feel relief from all the problems in my life.”
Jessica and Nory have found joy in living the gospel. Or rather, they have found joy because they live the gospel.
The commandments, like the paths around Los Gemelos, don’t restrict us. They provide the guidance necessary to make us perfect through the Atonement of the Savior (see D&C 82:8–9). When we choose to keep the commandments, we are choosing to show love and devotion to God. We are choosing to be worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost. We are choosing to be worthy to receive inspiration, to be able to serve, to be able to enter the temple, and to honor the priesthood.
Most important, we are choosing to work toward eternal life in the celestial kingdom with our Father in Heaven. That is the pathway of peace and happiness.

I first encountered the power of music as a young missionary serving in France. One day my companion, Elder Robertson, said, “Elder Nadauld, do you know how to sing?”
I said, “Maybe a little. Why do you ask?”
He suggested that we should sing a hymn or two at the beginning of teaching appointments. He and I had sung in our respective high school choirs. We weren’t the Osmond brothers, but we could carry a tune.
At our next teaching opportunity, we sang “Come unto Jesus” in French in two-part harmony. We felt an outpouring of the Spirit stronger than either of us had ever experienced before on our missions. Because of that inspiring experience, we continued to sing prior to all of our teaching, with the same powerful result.

Amanda was not a member of the Church when she and Bert met, nor was she a Latter-day Saint when they married a few years later. Bert had become somewhat active during his air force training in California; but, he says, “things were moving slowly for me.” Shortly after their marriage, however, “my life started to change because of her.
“We were married after I was commissioned as an officer in the air force.” (Amanda, by this time, had earned a degree in secondary education from the University of Hawaii.) “For a while we lived in California; then we moved to Kansas after some air force training in Texas. Two weeks after we arrived in Kansas, I think the Lord felt it was time that Amanda found out about the Church. Although we had been attending meetings, we hadn’t gotten really serious about the Church.
Bert was sent to Greenland for 109 days, and since the couple had not yet found an apartment in Kansas, Amanda stayed with Bert’s cousin and his wife. The relatives were active Church members, and they and the stake missionaries began encouraging Amanda to schedule her baptism for the same day as the cousin’s eight-year-old daughter’s.
Amanda was unhappy about the situation. “I didn’t think they should know when I was going to be ready; but they said they knew, and they had set the date.”
“I felt a little bad about that,” says Bert, remembering the letter Amanda sent him at the time. “I was a little embarrassed, because that was my church. But then the next week I got another letter saying, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer. I’m being baptized Saturday.’”
“They did know,” smiles Amanda. “I was ready.”
Following Amanda’s conversion, Bert began to progress in the Church as well. He was ordained a priest, then an elder, and the DuPonts were soon sealed in the temple.

“Come on, Aaron,” Corey* said. “Just be cool and help me out.” Corey leaned over in a confidential way. “Just call the night manager to take the garbage out to the dock.”
Corey was my friend. He was a couple of years older than me and played on the football team, and I was kind of proud to hang around with a popular guy like him. My mind was racing as I tried to decide what to do. After all, I wasn’t really doing anything wrong. I was just doing my work, and the garbage did need to go out.
Before this, I had been having a good night. I had taken some cardboard back to the baler, and I was surprised to find Corey, who was sticking some plastic in a garbage can. He jumped back, fear in his eyes, and then relaxed.
“Oh, it’s just you,” he had said, laughing.
“Why are you here on your night off?” I asked.
“Hey, just helping a friend with his work,” he joked. But I had already seen the case of beer stashed in the garbage.
He knew that I knew he was stealing from the store.
“See, Aaron,” he said, “these kids pay me 25 bucks for a 12-pack. I’ll give you part of the money for helping me,” he had said. Finally, though, I decided that I couldn’t go along with this. It wasn’t worth the friendship.
“No,” I finally said, “you’re on your own. I don’t want to be involved. Call the night manager yourself.”
As I collected the carts from the front, I started feeling guilty, but I kept on telling myself it was no big deal, that it wasn’t really my problem. I went home that night, not feeling very peaceful or good about myself. I just tried to forget the whole thing.
I was still trying to bury my guilt in school, when a girl I barely knew came up to me.
“Hey, you and Corey have quite a system out there at the store,” she said. “Thanks for helping us party.”
“What?” I said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I responded.
“Sure,” she said, walking away smiling. At first I was angry that there were obviously people who thought I was stealing beer. I started thinking about it, though, and realized she was right. I was helping Corey steal because I knew about it and wasn’t doing anything to stop it.
As scared as I felt, I decided I would tell my manager what had been going on. The next day I found out that Corey had been fired after finally admitting to stealing. I also found out that he knew I had told on him. I thought for a while he would beat me up, but since we went to different high schools, I never saw him—until a few years later.
I was sitting in an ice cream store with some friends. A guy came through the door, and it was unmistakably Corey. I tried to sink in my chair, but he was looking right at me. He walked over with his friends.
“Hey, guys, this is Aaron,” he said, introducing me.
“Hi, what’s up?” I said.
“You notice anything different?” he asked. “I went through the temple today,” he said. “I’m going on a mission to England. Give me your address.”
I about fell off my chair. I never thought he would want to go on a mission. He got my address, shook my hand, and walked off. I went to his farewell. Later, he wrote me a letter, telling me how mad he had been at first about getting fired, but how it helped him see where he was headed, and that he was glad he repented.
As it turned out “telling” was the best thing I ever did for Corey. It was something a true friend would do.

When I was a boy, 12 years of age, my father took me to a meeting of the priesthood of the stake in which we lived. At the opening of that meeting, the first of its kind I had ever attended, three or four hundred men stood and sang “Praise to the Man.”
Something happened within me as I heard those men of faith sing. There came into my boyish heart a knowledge, placed there by the Holy Spirit, that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet of the Almighty. In the many years that have since passed, years in which I have read much of his words and works, that knowledge has grown stronger and ever more certain. Mine has been the privilege of bearing witness across this nation from sea to shining sea, and on continents north and south, east and west, that he was and is a prophet of God, a mighty servant and testifier of the Lord Jesus Christ.
That testimony I reaffirm to you this day and I leave my testimony in the name of Him of whom Joseph Smith was a witness and of whom I also am a witness, even the Lord, Jesus Christ (from Ensign, May 1977, 66).

As a Relief Society president in São Paulo, Brazil, Elizabeth Contieri Kemeny felt impressed to assign herself to visit a shy, pregnant sister who attended church alone as her husband was often away on business. The ward Relief Society had just participated in a stake project to make baby layettes consisting of blankets, clothing, and other supplies for infants. The layettes were supposed to be delivered to the stake on a particular Sunday morning. On that day Sister Kemeny awoke at 6:00 A.M. with a strong impression she should deliver the layettes to the home of this sister, rather than to the stake.
Taking along her counselor and the bishop, Sister Kemeny arrived at this sister’s apartment only to learn that she had already gone to the hospital in labor. Pressing on to the hospital, they found her holding her new baby in her arms, with tears streaming down her own cheeks. She had been praying that Heavenly Father would send somebody to help her. Her husband was out of town, and she had nothing—not a blanket to wrap the baby in nor money for a bus ride home.
That afternoon at the stake meeting this ward had no layettes to contribute. They had been given to bless a sister both temporally and spiritually—all because a visiting teacher had prayed and listened to the promptings of the Spirit.

Before my eighth birthday I fasted and prayed to Heavenly Father to know if I should be baptized. The answer was yes! After I was baptized I felt a wonderful warm feeling of happiness. I was grateful to be confirmed and receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Since my baptism I have tried to keep the commandments, be kind to my family and friends, and always set a good example.Huia K., 8, Victoria, Australia