Gospel Story Finder

A true story from Australia.
It was snack time at school. Zoe grabbed her sandwich and walked to the table. The sunshine came through the window and shone down on her. It was a warm day, and Zoe felt happy.
Everyone was talking, and the classroom buzzed with the sound of happy children. A girl named Luna sat down nearby with her friend Jesse.
“You’re a Christian?” Zoe heard Luna ask Jesse.
Zoe felt her heart sink. Luna always said mean things! What would she say next? The whole classroom went quiet as they listened.
“I don’t believe in Jesus,” Luna said next.
One by one, lots of kids in Zoe’s class said the same thing.
Zoe’s heart was beating fast now. She wanted to have courage and say that she believed in Jesus Christ, but she was afraid of what would happen. What would everyone else think? Would she lose friends?
Suddenly she felt a warm, peaceful feeling. A thought came into her mind: Stand up for what you believe. I’ll protect you. Zoe knew it came from the Holy Ghost.
She took a deep breath. “I believe in Jesus Christ,” she said. “And I know He loves me. He loves you too, even if you don’t believe in Him.”
The warm feeling grew stronger and stronger. Zoe felt happiness growing inside her.
Soon, snack time was over, and it was time to play outside. Zoe skipped to the playground. Some of the kids in her class followed her.
“I liked what you said to Luna,” one girl said.
“Me too,” said another boy. “How can I believe in Jesus too?”
Zoe smiled. “You can go to church and read the scriptures to learn more about Him! And you can try hard to follow what He taught.”
Zoe was happy she had the courage to share her beliefs. She knew Jesus Christ would always be there to help her be brave.

by J. I. H. Porras
Service and love cannot be separated when you talk about the young women of the Badalona Ward in Badalona, Spain, a suburb of Barcelona. These young women serve one another, their families and friends, and people they don’t know with equal enthusiasm.
The Young Women take it upon themselves to see that each girl is contacted about every activity, a difficult challenge since most do not have telephones and live more than 30 miles from the chapel. When someone is absent, the others make sure that nothing is wrong.
Laura Ferreras, 17, learned of this love when she came to church one Sunday with her recently baptized mother. “The things that impressed me most were the love and caring among the members,” Laura said, “especially with the girls my age. I felt great joy in finding a place so full of unselfish love.” Laura was baptized a short time later.
Their service was not restricted to Church members. The girls agreed to help at a home for handicapped orphans (both children and adults). Sara Lopez Garrido, 15, said, “I was scared at first because I didn’t know how I would react, but once inside I realized how much love these people need. I am a better person for just giving my time to show I care. I’ll never be afraid to go back and get involved in their lives.”
The girls also regularly visit 102-year-old Ascunsion Baneras de Centeno, the “grandmother” of the ward. Their visits have expanded to include all the residents of the rest home.
The gospel has blessed the lives of these young women, and they are blessing the lives of others through love and service.

It was a typical Olsen family home evening. Mother played the piano while little Christopher waved his arm and led everyone in a song. After Amanda gave the opening prayer, Dad began the lesson.
“Who remembers what we did at the Olsen family reunion last summer?” he asked.
“Looked at old pictures!” Julie cried out. Then she giggled, thinking about the funny pictures of Uncle Jack.
“Ran races!” Amanda chimed in, remembering how hard she had tried to run faster than her cousins.
“Ate lots of food!” Christopher yelled, and everyone laughed.
“That’s true,” Dad said. “Now who remembers what Uncle Bob asked us to do?”
Scott frowned. “Not family history,” he groaned.
“Very good,” Dad said. “Uncle Bob challenged each family to do something new with our family history.”
“But Dad,” Julie countered, “Uncle Bob said that the only research left would have to be done in other countries.”
“Do we get to travel somewhere?” Amanda asked excitedly.
“Sorry, Amanda,” Dad answered. “I think that kind of research is out. We’ll have to be more creative than that.”
“There’s nothing creative about family history,” Scott complained. “It’s just a bunch of old names and dates.”
“Well, when Joseph Smith first saw the golden plates,” Mom noted, “it was just a bunch of old markings until he translated them.”
“That was different,” Scott said. “The Book of Mormon was important, so Heavenly Father helped him translate it.”
“Family history is important, too,” Dad persisted, holding up his book of remembrance. “Maybe we just need help to translate ours.”
Julie looked puzzled. “What do you mean, Dad?”
“Translate means to make something understandable,” Dad explained. “Maybe we need to translate our records into something more than just names and dates.”
“Aw, Dad,” Scott said, picking up a family group sheet. “There’s nothing here except—hey, I never noticed that!” He pointed, staring at an entry.
“What?” Amanda said, looking over her brother’s shoulder.
“This guy, Jacob Olsen, was born on October fourth, just like me.”
“That ‘guy,’” Mom said, “was your great-grandfather. He was really happy that you were born on his birthday.”
“I don’t remember him,” Scott said.
“He died when you were just a baby,” Dad explained. “He really liked it when we took you to visit him.”
“His family had two boys and two girls in it, just like ours,” Julie noticed. “But look—the last one died the day she was born.”
“November 15th,” Dad said without having to look. “Grandpa told me that his sister was born prematurely and was just too tiny to live. But they always remembered Baby Annie and put a rosebud on her grave every November 15th.”
“That must have been a sad day,” Julie said quietly.
“It was,” Dad agreed. “But it was happy, too. It reminded them that they had a sister they could see again someday.”
“I wonder,” Amanda said, “if anyone remembers Baby Annie now?”
“We can!” Scott suggested. “Can’t we, Mom?”
“I think that would be nice,” Mom said, smiling. “I’ll mark November 15th on our calendar.”
“And write down Grandpa Olsen’s birthday, too,” Scott suggested.
“But at the end of the year,” Julie realized aloud, “we’ll just throw the calendar away and forget them.”
“Then I guess that we need another way to remember,” Mom said, going into the next room. “How about this?” she asked when she returned. “We never used this old 1992 calendar. I didn’t know why I was saving it, but it must have been for this project. And since it was a leap year, it even has February 29th on it, in case we need it.”
“But it’s four years old,” Julie said, giggling.
“That doesn’t matter,” Dad said. “We need a calendar for yesterdays, not tomorrows.”
“I get it,” Scott said. “We can remember our ancestors’ important days on that calendar, just like we remember our own important days on this year’s. What other dates can we write on it?”
“Well, between Mom’s records and mine, there surely are enough of them here,” Dad laughed, thumbing through the pages. “Why don’t we study one family every week, then put all their birthdays and weddings and deaths on the calendar?”
“Starting with Jacob Olsen,” Scott proclaimed, eagerly turning to the October page. “Dad, do you think he enjoyed his birthday as much as I do mine?”
“I’m sure he did,” Dad said. “Do you still think family history is just a bunch of old names and dates?”
“I guess not,” Scott admitted. “At least, not after we translate them into people.”

American servicemen, their families, and others living in the Philippines loved the Filipinos and in 1960 pleaded with Elder Gordon B. Hinckley, then an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles assigned to supervise the Church in Asia, to open the Philippines to missionary work.2
On his first visit to the Philippines in 1960, Elder Hinckley realized the potential the Philippines offered as a mission field. Legal challenges slowed official recognition for the Church, but Elder Hinckley and Robert S. Taylor, president of the Southern Far East Mission, believed permission for missionary visas would soon be granted. With authorization from the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, they scheduled a meeting at the American War Memorial Cemetery on 28 April 1961 to initiate missionary work.
At 6:30 on a quiet, peaceful morning, around 100 members of the Church—mostly servicemen and their families, but including David Lagman, a Filipino member—met near the small memorial chapel. At the conclusion of a brief meeting, Elder Hinckley offered a prayer in which he invoked blessings “upon the people of this land, that they shall be friendly and hospitable, and kind and gracious to those who shall come here, and that many, yea Lord, we pray that there shall be many thousands who shall receive this message and be blessed thereby. … We pray that there shall be many men, faithful, good, virtuous, true men who shall join the Church.”3
Since that time, his prayer has been answered many fold. Visas for full-time missionaries were soon approved, and on 5 June 1961 the first four missionaries were transferred from Hong Kong to Manila. Probably because the people were curious about them, the elders were invited into every home they visited that day.

“Choose your friends wisely, for you will tend to be like them.” I had seen this little sign a million times and never thought anything of it. It was only one of many strategically placed thoughts and quotes that dotted the walls of our home. This one happened to be in the best location of all—right above the kitchen table.
When friends came over, we naturally congregated in the kitchen. Dates, late night movies, and quick lunches almost all involved the kitchen. Mom knew this and planned her attack accordingly. Years later I realized what a direct hit Mom had scored.
I was blessed with a lot of friends who are also members of the Church. We went to church and school together, and most of us went on missions at about the same time. However, there was one who was not exactly like the rest of us. His parents were divorced, and he was shuffled between their homes and the homes of friends. As a result, I think he always felt a little isolated and alone. He wore his hair long and always had at least one earring. Regardless, we loved him, and he was one of us.
During high school we witnessed him change; it was great. A short time after his 19th birthday he submitted his mission papers and received a call. A couple of months later we really understood the significance of this event.
The realization came on a cold, crisp Sunday in January. My friends and I had gathered to hear this young man speak in sacrament meeting. I had been invited to perform a musical number, so I sat on the stand. As I gazed over the crowd, I saw all of our friends, as well as my family; it was a wonderful sight. As my friend ventured to the pulpit, his eyes were a little red.
His talk opened with a question: “Do any of you know why I am here? Well, it is really very simple. I am here because of the many meals eaten at a friend’s table, a table with a sign above it that reads, ‘Choose your friends wisely, for you will tend to be like them.’ I want my friends to know that without their influence and love I wouldn’t be here today.”
As I looked down into the crowd, I saw my mother with teary eyes and a smile.
From that day on, I have also thought about the effects my friends have had on my life. I don’t know if I would have served a mission without their example. I don’t know what kind of a person I would be today if it hadn’t been for the strength and love I received from such wonderful people. For that, I will be forever grateful, both to them and to my Heavenly Father.
I know that no one has forgotten the message shared from that pulpit. I also know that that sign, to this day, still hangs above our kitchen table.

Nina watched as Sister Kelly struggled to pick up the toys her baby had scattered during sacrament meeting.
Sister Kelly was going to have a new baby soon, and Nina figured it must be hard for her to move around. She wondered how Sister Kelly managed to take care of Emily, especially since Brother Kelly had to travel a lot for his job.
The Kellys had moved into a house down the street from Nina a few months ago. Sister Kelly waved to her each afternoon as she walked home from middle school. Sometimes she stopped and played with two-year-old Emily for a few minutes.
Nina stooped now and began to gather up the toys and put them into the diaper bag.
“Thank you, Nina,” Sister Kelly said, standing with a sigh. “It’s getting harder and harder to bend over.” She smiled as she patted her rounded stomach, but her smile looked tired rather than happy.
How does Sister Kelly take care of Emily? Nina wondered. But what can I do? I’m only eleven years old. I have school all day and homework after that.
Nina thought about it all during Primary. When a girl in her Valiant class told a story about President Spencer W. Kimball,* Nina listened intently.
When the prophet had been waiting in an airport, he noticed a young, pregnant mother struggling to urge her child along in the line. She nudged the toddler along with her foot but didn’t pick her up. Other passengers whispered and pointed at her, but no one offered to help. President Kimball picked up the crying child and comforted her. The woman told him that because of orders from her doctor, she could not lift her child.
Only President Kimball had recognized that the young mother needed help. Only he had offered that help. Never once did he judge her, as the other passengers had.
A wave of pure knowledge swept through Nina, and she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. She spent a lot of time talking on the phone with her friends and watching TV at night. If she gave up those things, she’d have plenty of time to help Sister Kelly for a few hours each day. She could do her homework after the supper dishes were done.
She found her mother after church and explained her plan.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Mom gave Nina a quick hug. “I’ll fix a casserole and send it over. If I double the recipe, they can freeze half of it and have it another night, as well.”
Nina found Sister Kelly after church. Her eyes looked tired, and faint lines creased the corners of her mouth.
“Sister Kelly, may I come over and play with Emily after school for a couple of hours? Oh, and Mom wants to bring a casserole.”
A single tear tracked down Sister Kelly’s cheek. Then another.
Nina didn’t know what to do. Then she remembered that when Mom was expecting her little brother, Jared, she had cried really easily. Nina reached out to touch Sister Kelly’s shoulder. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Something is right!” Sister Kelly dug in her purse for a tissue, then wiped away her tears. She hugged Nina. “I’m crying because I’ve been praying for someone just like you.” The tears fell faster. “You’re an answer to my prayers.”
Nina felt tears well up in her own eyes. “Does Emily like to play with puzzles? My little brother has some wooden ones that he’s outgrown. Maybe I could bring them with me.”
“Emily loves to do puzzles.” Sister Kelly found another tissue and handed it to Nina. “Would you like to come to the nursery with me and tell her the news?”
“I sure would!”
Nina could hardly wait until the next afternoon.

In 2001 Juanita was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer and was given a 50 percent chance for five-year survival. Our best option was to pursue an aggressive but very taxing course of chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation. We were discouraged when after eight weeks of nauseating chemo the large tumor had not shrunk at all. During this trial I went jogging and recited the proclamation as loud as I could to relieve the stress I was feeling. It comforted me.
On one jog when I got to “Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer,” I stopped. I felt a sense of peace as an impression formed in my mind. It was the Saturday morning before fast Sunday, and I felt inspired to send an e-mail to everyone I knew, inviting them to fast and pray and exercise their faith for Juanita so that the chemotherapy would be effective. We received a great outpouring of support. Even friends of other faiths described powerful experiences with fasting and prayer. Without our asking them to do so, friends in Australia, Japan, Hawaii, Salt Lake, Boston, Belgium, and South Africa put Juanita’s name on the prayer roll in their temples. The results were miraculous. Immediately our mood and our faith improved. And during the next four weeks of treatments, the tumor almost totally disappeared. Juanita finished the treatment, and no measurable cancer remained. We were so grateful! But this wasn’t the end of our trials or of the continued comfort the proclamation brought us.
In early 2004 we were devastated to learn that Juanita’s cancer had returned, this time in her lungs. In somber tones our doctor told us he would try to keep the cancer under control as long as possible, but there was now no possible cure. At first I felt betrayed and hopeless. Juanita and I had righteous desires and plans. What about the missions we were going to serve together? What about the grandchildren we were going to strengthen spiritually? How could this happen to us?
As I went through the proclamation again, this time it was as if someone turned a flashlight on to highlight the words “Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother.” I recognized my children were entitled to be raised by a father and a mother. This statement filled me with hope that in the face of very large medical odds Juanita would be blessed with a miracle and be healed.
We lived a fairly normal and hopeful life for about six months, but then the cancer began to take its unmistakable toll. Juanita lost weight rapidly and acquired a nearly constant and uncomfortable cough. Even the smallest exertion left her struggling for breath. Things seemed always to get worse and never better. Soon it became apparent that it was not God’s will for Juanita to live very much longer. I was at a complete loss to explain why God had not stepped forward with the miracle we so badly needed and so sincerely hoped for. But then again the words of the proclamation provided inspiration and comfort: “Sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples make it possible for individuals to return to the presence of God and for families to be united eternally.” Through many tears my understanding was enlarged to see that Juanita would indeed receive a miraculous healing. Because of the plan of salvation, Juanita would pass from this life into a beautiful place to be greeted by her father, our daughter who had passed away, and the Savior. Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, Juanita would be healed and at the Resurrection receive a perfect body, free from cancer and any other illness. I could also see that through all eternity our children would have access to her influence as their mother—another miracle.
I also felt impressed that there was much we could yet do in this life to give the children continued access to her wisdom. I received a clear impression that it was time for us to stop focusing our faith on a physical miracle that was not in keeping with God’s will and focus instead on learning as much as we could from Juanita in the short time we had left. We needed to be better prepared “to return to the presence of God and for [our family] to be united eternally.” In our family testimony meeting we expressed these feelings poignantly, and their truth washed over us all. Then we went to work.
Juanita wrote her testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and I wrote mine as well. We printed and laminated them along with our pictures in a size that would fit in the children’s scriptures. Juanita then wrote long letters in her own hand to each of the children, expressing appreciation and offering words of encouragement and advice. We recorded Juanita’s sweet voice singing hymns, Primary songs, and childhood lullabies and made CDs for each of the children and for future grandchildren. We also recorded messages to be listened to on special occasions such as going to the temple, leaving on a mission, getting married, giving birth to a child. Juanita crocheted baby blankets and bibs for future grandchildren. Our lives now became focused, full of activity, and we received great comfort from the Spirit. All this came as a result of inspiration from the proclamation.
All of our children were at Juanita’s side when she died, and each had the opportunity to share tender communication with her. She was alert and talked to us until about 10 minutes before she passed away. That’s when I told her, “I love you,” and she responded in Spanish, “Lo mismo,” which means “Same to you.” Those were her last words. Her passing was sweet.
I have marveled at the numerous specific and personal ways the proclamation has blessed me and my family since that Saturday night more than a decade ago when I first heard it. It has changed our lives forever. It is the word of God, and it can be the basis for great joy and happiness in family life, even in the midst of unfathomable trials. I know by the Spirit that “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” is an inspired document for families today, and if seriously studied, it will open the windows of divine assistance for our families.

For the first few minutes everyone was quiet and shifted in their seats, just like I’d expected. I sat as still as possible, staring at my hands in my lap, listening as the fire popped and crackled and everyone breathed. Then I heard a rustle, and someone stood up. I didn’t look to see who it was. But once I heard his voice, I knew. It was John Caldwell, the star football player. Big John, scary John, John who had been gone all summer so he could work out some problems and had just come home.

He cleared his throat. I could hear his feet shuffle nervously in the dirt.

“I don’t know where to start,” he said. “I’m not too good with words, really. But I have something to say that you all need to hear.

“The last year of my life has been really rough. One night I felt really bad. So bad I didn’t think I wanted to see the morning. That feeling scared me a lot, so much that I did something I hadn’t done since I was a little kid. I got down on my knees.

“I was scared to pray, almost too scared to even try. I wasn’t sure if there was a God, and if there was, I didn’t know why He’d want to listen to me. But I needed to do something. Anything.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, really,” he said. “I don’t know what to say except that it felt like a blanket. I didn’t even have to try to say the right words. I just got down on my knees, and I could feel Him, and He was all around me. Right then, I knew everything would be okay. Somebody loved me, even if I didn’t even like myself, and for the first time I felt like I had the strength to go on.

“Now I want to make something out of my life. I still have a long way to go, but there’s one thing I can say without a doubt. I know there’s a God. He watched over me that night, and He’s been with me ever since.”

Diagnosed with bone cancer at age 14, Mason met the challenge with faith. His mother relates, “Mason still battled with fear, but he chose to not let it limit his faith and love.”
In August of 2021 my wife and I met a dear couple whose friendship we have come to cherish. Their son, Mason, had just been diagnosed with a rare bone cancer known as osteosarcoma. Prior to the diagnosis, he was by all appearances a healthy 14-year-old with a sore leg and stained baseball uniform from sliding into home plate.
Soon, however, Mason’s life seemed to capsize. He was abruptly launched into daunting discussions with medical professionals about chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, possible amputation, and life expectancy. His mom describes what happened when doctors asked if he would like to know the probability of survival: “After a long silence of processing new and overwhelming emotion, tears silently fell to the floor. He boldly answered, ‘No, thank you! I’m good!’ With those few words, he resolutely began choosing how he would face his trial.”
Mason’s cancer was aggressive. His body rebelled against each life-extending treatment. His mother shares, “We felt an overwhelming desire to freeze time, but time moved forward and we experienced the loss of everything we had known as normal.” She continues, “Alongside the crushing fear of the future, we also witnessed the creation of strength, power, and peace beyond our earthly capabilities. We had no other explanation than this: God amplified our capacities. We received miracles, though different than those we wanted at the onset.”
Mason’s mother recounts, “One night Mason walked by the bedroom where I was saying prayers with his eight-year-old sister. Through her tears she voiced her worries about her brother. I held her tightly, and we cried together. Mason kneeled beside us and wrapped us both in his weakening arms. He chose to wade deep into uncomfortable emotions and set aside his personal fear so he could help his sister and me. He strengthened us to face our sorrow by joining us in our sorrow.”
“Mason realized he didn’t need to wait to be cured before his faith was strengthened,” his mother says. “He was able to trust in God, and this enabled him to loosen his grip on his own vulnerability. I watched miracles unfold within our family and even within the community as God helped us see that love was—and is—more powerful than fear. Mason still battled with fear, but he chose to not let it limit his faith and love.”
Just six months after his initial diagnosis, Mason courageously graduated from mortality. He repeatedly chose to let God prevail and was delivered from all his fears.

This year our band director scheduled a performance on the day of our annual youth temple trip. Three other Church members and I were to participate in this show, and my director threatened to cancel the performance for everyone if the four of us didn’t go. Some of my friends were upset with me. I decided to fast, pray, and trust in the Lord. The Holy Spirit whispered to me that I should go on the temple trip and that everything would be all right.
After the temple trip, I was afraid to go to band practice. However fear turned to joy as I learned that the band show was postponed because of bad weather. If you put your trust and faith in the Lord, He will direct your life so “all things shall work together for your good.”Heather Todd, 15Berwick Ward, Williamsport Pennsylvania Stake

The COVID-19 pandemic has drastically changed the way we live our daily lives. The virus has disrupted all sectors of society and its impact has also been felt in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Missionary service is one of the areas that has been significantly affected. On March 12, 2020, the leadership of the Church issued a statement requiring all senior missionaries and young missionaries with serious or chronic medical conditions serving in twenty-two areas in Europe to return home. Elder Michael Coley was among the many missionaries who had to leave.
Elder Coley had been called to labour in the England London Mission on August 6, 2019. It had been anticipated that he would serve for two years. Elder Coley was often told that his mission would be over before he knew it and that he should treasure every moment. However, he never imagined it would be over that soon.
He began his life-changing missionary journey on January 8, 2020, trying to embody Christlike attributes as he prepared to serve the people of England. He experienced much personal growth and greater generosity and humanity towards those he met.
Elder Coley could not fathom leaving his mission at that specific time just when he was forgetting himself and doing the Lord’s work. At the time, he dreaded going back into the world and being exposed once again to all the vileness of it. Elder Coley confided that when he expressed this to his missionary companion, he was told that the only person that can control how much of the world he indulges in is him. For Elder Coley that is a message that he would never forget.
On March 16, he departed London’s Heathrow Airport and began the long journey back to Jamaica. The journey home was stressful to him, especially due to the different avenues of travel he had to endure. The original travel plan included a flight from the United Kingdom to the United States and then to Jamaica. However, the United States had closed its borders to noncitizens. As a result, Elder Coley travelled to Mexico, then to the Dominican Republic followed by Turks and Caicos. On March 17, he finally arrived in Jamaica.
Even though he knew that he would be quarantined for 14 days, it was a relief to be home. This experience taught Elder Coley to be more optimistic and to trust Heavenly Father more. He came to realise that when we do the Lord’s work to the best of our ability, He helps tremendously.
When asked to share his thoughts on what has been happening in the world, Elder Coley said, “In these difficult time,s the only person that can control how this pandemic is viewed is you. You can either let this difficult time strengthen your testimony in God or weaken it. Let us enjoy each moment here on earth doing the Lord’s work and being with our families. We do not know fully what the Lord has planned for each of us. I know however, that God loves His children and enables them to go through experiences to learn from them and to evolve into better versions of themselves.”
This message of hope and steadfastness is one which Elder Coley wishes that everyone will be able to embrace during this time of uncertainty and turmoil.

Allow me to share two experiences from my recent interactions with the young men of the Church that have taught me about leading and following.
Recently my wife and I attended a sacrament meeting away from our home ward. Just before the meeting started, a young man approached me and asked if I would help pass the sacrament. I said, “I’d be happy to.”
I took my seat with the other deacons and asked one who was sitting next to me, “What is my assignment?” He told me I was to start passing at the back of the chapel in the middle section and that he would be on the other side of the same section, and together we would work our way to the front.
I said, “I haven’t done this for a long time.”
He replied, “That’s OK. You’ll be fine. I felt the same way when I started.”
Later the youngest deacon in the quorum, ordained only weeks earlier, gave a talk in sacrament meeting. After the meeting, the other deacons rallied around him to tell him how proud they were of their fellow quorum member.
As I visited with them that day, I found out that each week, members of all the Aaronic Priesthood quorums in that ward reach out to other young men and invite them to be part of their quorums.
These young men were all great leaders. And they clearly had some wonderful behind-the-scenes Melchizedek Priesthood holders, parents, and others who mentored them in their duties. Caring adults like these see young men not just as they are but as they can become. When they talk to or about the young men, they do not dwell on their shortcomings. Instead, they emphasize the great leadership qualities they are demonstrating.

A few years later, when my sister, Briélan, was seven, she was invited to go to the beach with some friends and their parents. My mom told her the same thing she had told me: go and have fun, but don’t go swimming. When my sister got to the beach, her friends’ parents told her she could go ahead and swim. They wouldn’t tell her mother, so it would be OK.
Even though my sister thought my mom would never know, she told her friends’ parents that she would not go swimming because her mother had asked her not to, and she wanted to be obedient. The grown-ups tried to convince her it was OK, but she still said no because she knew she should do what was right, and they were trying to get her to do something wrong.
My sister’s day at the beach was just as hot as mine at the pool, and she wanted to swim just as badly as I did. But my little sister became my big example when she chose to honor our parents by obeying them.

The last story took place later that fall while a family was taking a pleasant, 3 1/2-mile hike to a beautiful lake in the Cascades. As they returned down the trail later that day, their young daughter started falling behind. They weren’t really too concerned as it was a good trail, it was still light, and they had been on similar hikes before. The parents continued down the trail, arriving at the road just a few minutes ahead of their daughter, so they thought. After waiting for more than an hour for her, they became concerned and started back up the trail in search. This started a search that would last three days and cost thousands of dollars and many man-hours.
The third illustration even more effectively points out the value of always carrying a whistle and being trained in its use. The little girl had wandered off the trail while picking flowers and had gotten lost in the process. After wandering around for many hours, she lay down beside a large tree where she remained in shock and exhaustion for two days while searchers walked all around the area looking for her. When she was finally found on the third day, she was only 100 yards from the trail!

As a child, I became less-active in the Church, but as a teenager I was considering coming back. Before making this important decision, I prayed and pondered what it would mean to come back to the Church and the responsibilities it would entail.
That is when I decided to read some old issues of the Liahona. I was reading to find stories that would encourage me and reinforce my desire to return to church.
Through reading articles about people who had experiences similar to mine, I received a lot of encouragement. Most of all, the articles helped me understand that nobody at church is perfect and that I have my faults as well and need to do something to correct them.
I have now come back to church. I realize that the meetings are like they were before, but now I have a more positive vision, partly due to ideas that I found in the Liahona about how to enjoy classes and sacrament meeting.
Every time I read the Liahona, I feel satisfied as I find answers to my questions.María Pilar Santana, Dominican Republic

“It’s time for our friendly visitor!” Sister Palmer said.
Elijah could hardly stay in his seat. He was so excited.
“Who will it be?” whispered Lily Kate.
“I don’t know,” Elijah whispered back.
Sometimes a special visitor came to Primary. It was always someone different, but the visitor usually talked about a story from the Friend magazine. That’s why Sister Palmer called him a friendly visitor.
One time the visitor was dressed up like a farmer and read a story about a boy who took a watermelon without asking.
Elijah stared at the door, waiting. All of a sudden, a tall man with a black helmet and a vest came through the Primary door.
“It’s a pilot!” whispered Brinkley.
“That’s my dad!” said Lily Kate.
Brother Owen was a helicopter pilot. He asked Lily Kate to come to the front of the room and pretend to fly a helicopter with him. Lily Kate put on a helmet and safety gear, and she and her dad started to fly. They listened to the control tower on the radio so they would know which way to go and where to land. It was so much fun pretending to fly through the clouds!
Then Brother Owen looked at Elijah.
“I have time for one more flight,” he said. “Do you want to try?”
Elijah nodded. He jumped up from his seat and ran to the front of the room.
Brother Owen helped Elijah put on his gear and flight gloves. They got ready for takeoff. But this time Brother Owen said they didn’t need to listen to the control tower. He said the weather was beautiful and they knew how to fly.
Elijah held out his hands like he was steering the helicopter. It was great! They made noises like they were flying through the air. Zoom!
“Oh no!” said Brother Owen. “A tree! Look out!”
Elijah tried to fly away from the tree, but it was too late. Brother Owen shook their chairs as they pretended to crash to the ground.
“I guess we made a mistake, huh?” asked Brother Owen.
Elijah nodded.
“I guess we should have listened to the control tower,” Brother Owen said. He turned to the other kids. “Do you know why it’s important to listen to the tower?”
“So we can have a good flight and not crash into things,” said Lily Kate.
“You’re right,” said Brother Owen. “The control tower has a computer that can see everything. The control tower tells the pilots if they are going the right way. They also make sure there’s no danger ahead.”
“Like really tall trees,” Elijah said.
“Exactly!” said Brother Owen. “And guess who is like a control tower for us? He helps us choose the right and teaches us important things in general conference.”
“The prophet!” one of the kids called out.
“That’s right! Like a control tower, President Monson can see the big picture.” Brother Owen held up a picture of President Monson from the Friend magazine. “He gets revelation from our Heavenly Father to help us stay on the right path. He warns us if there are dangers ahead. When we listen to our prophet, we can be safe and happy, just like the pilots who listen to their control tower.”
Brother Owen gave the kids a salute.
“Time to fly home,” he said. Then he disappeared through the Primary doors just as fast as he had come in.
Elijah liked all of the special friendly visitors. But this had been his favorite one of all.

WELCOME!I’m Sister Simon.Hi! I’m Ramón.Hello. I’m Cathlyn.I’m Mei Lin.Hi! I’m David.And I’m Joshua.
What on earth are you doing, Josh?Archaeology.Sure you are.
This is a very promising dig. I’m unearthing evidence of an early twenty-first century civilization.The early twenty-first century is right now.Exactly. From here I’ll work backward. Soon I’ll be in Book of Mormon times.
Right. So what have you discovered?This!
A CTR ring?Don’t you see? This proves that a young man who wanted to choose the right inhabited this dwelling. I bet with a little more digging, I’ll find a baptismal certificate.
Impressive.Brilliant might be a better word.

As a qualified therapist-counsellor, Elder Robert Durkin had a custom-made mission. He was called as a pre-mission assessment coordinator. He also coordinated all the addiction recovery programme coordinators throughout the Europe areas where the addiction recovery programme is being used. He trained the coordinators and made sure records were kept up to date.

He and his wife served a full-time mission at the MTC in Chorley where he was in the MTC presidency. After her passing, he decided to serve another mission. He wanted to serve and live in Germany, so he was planning to move from the UK to Frankfurt, where he would have paid his own expenses as a service missionary rather than paying the monthly missionary fees. Due to COVID, he stayed in the UK and completed his mission from his own home. He says he was able to do everything he needed to do while living at home. He encourages others to serve a mission. He says, “Don’t miss the opportunity. A mission is a great way to get closer to the Lord.”

That reminded her of Uncle Jed. Last spring he had suggested she find a summer job where she could look out at people and not into herself so much. “It’d be good to surround yourself with some joy,” he had said.
“I’d like that,” Jenny had said as they walked along the sidewalk in front of her house. She thought it might be fun working at the water slide. At least there she could see people, families, having fun.
“There are some openings for summer youth counselors at Parkhaven,” Uncle Jed said.
“Parkhaven? That’s for retarded children isn’t it?” That didn’t sound very joyful to her.
Uncle Jed stopped walking. He turned to face her and then smiled. With his characteristic softness he said, “Do you remember the New Testament story about the pool at Bethesda and the handicapped folks who waited for someone to move the water so they could be healed?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember who they waited for?”
“An angel, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Some people have to wait for angels to help them while they are in their imperfect bodies. Actually, we’re all defective one way or the other. But because of the Savior and what he did in the Resurrection, we’ll eventually be wrapped with glory. Can you imagine how glad those children at Parkhaven are going to be when that happens? Now, though, while they wait for the time their bodies will become perfect, the children at Parkhaven have need of angels to soothe their spirits while they cope with bodies that don’t work as well as yours and mine.”
Jenny had felt uneasy about working with handicapped children. She was handicapped too, she thought—emotionally. She wanted someone to take care of her, not the other way around. But in the past she had trusted Uncle Jed’s gift of seeing things clearly when others couldn’t, so she took the job.

“We explained at a fireside what we planned to do at the conference,” Jacie said. “We told them we were going to work and work hard, but we explained how they could help and how much good it would do for the farm.”

Evidently the appeal was convincing. “This is the biggest turnout we’ve ever had for a youth conference,” Jacie said. And Gary, who served on the steering committee with her, noted that more than 500 attended an activity originally planned for 300. “At first we were afraid people would be turned off by the idea of working, but it turned out to be one of the best ideas ever.”