Gospel Story Finder

Emma Lou and Joseph Slagowski could not speak Spanish but were called to the Peru Lima South Mission. They participated in a trial pre-mission language project for mature couples that assists them in learning language skills in their own homes prior to entering the Missionary Training Center for their training. Sister Slagowski writes:
“When our stake president asked us [if] we would be willing to take part in [a new] pre-mission … language learning project, we were concerned, but accepted,” she said. “I am now 66 years old, and school was [never easy] for me.
“Without the pre-Missionary Training Center Spanish program, it would have been impossible, … [but] before [we arrived at] the Missionary Training Center I could read Spanish quite well, … could pray, and bear testimony of God the Father and Jesus Christ. To me it’s a miracle.
“We plan on another Spanish-speaking mission after this one if health permits.”

“Mom,” Anna said, “could we please stop at the next rest area? I need to get out and stretch.”
“Sure,” Mom replied. “There’s one coming up in just a few miles. I guess you haven’t had much chance to stretch since I picked you up after kindergarten.”
As soon as Mom stopped the car, Anna jumped out. There were no other cars, so she ran back and forth along the sidewalk for a few minutes. Then she went into the rest room. The first thing she saw was a shiny blue belt lying on the counter. She picked it up and looked at it. It was almost new. She rubbed it against her cheek. It felt good.
Blue is my favorite color, she thought. This even matches my pants. She tried it on. It fit just right.
When her mother came into the rest room, Anna held up the belt. “Look what I found.”
“That’s really pretty,” Mom said.
“Would it be OK if I kept it? There’s no one here for it to belong to.”
Mom thought a minute. “I think it’s your choice, Anna.”
Anna left the belt in the rest room and went out and sat on the lawn. She thought about what a great belt it was. Then she remembered a story Dad had told them in family home evening about finding a pocketknife when he was a boy. He had left it where he found it because it wasn’t his.
But I bet he didn’t want the knife nearly as much as I want this belt, Anna thought. Anyway, who would it hurt? The owner is long gone.
She thought how impressed the girls at school would be when she wore it. Maybe even her teacher would tell her what a pretty belt it was. Then she remembered the story her Primary teacher had told last week about a little boy who had returned a ball he’d found and how good he had felt about his decision.
Anna went back into the rest room. She picked up the belt and tried it on again. She remembered that she had a skirt it would go with perfectly. She even had shoes that were the same color of blue. She started to leave the rest room wearing the belt, then stopped and looked at herself in the mirror. The belt looked awesome with her pants. But did she like the girl who was wearing it? She took it off and rubbed the buckle with her thumb. She put it back on the counter and left, looking back at the belt one last time.
As she walked out the door, another car pulled into the parking lot. A girl about Anna’s age jumped out and raced into the rest room. A moment later, the girl ran back out, waving the belt in the air. “Mom, Mom, it was still there!”
Anna smiled.

It was 40 years ago this conference time when President David O. McKay called me to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. At the first meeting of the Presidency and Twelve which I attended where the sacrament was served, President McKay announced, “Before we partake of the sacrament, I would like to ask our newest member of this body, Brother Monson, if he would instruct the First Presidency and Twelve on the atoning sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” It was then that I gained a true understanding of the old adage: “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past.” It was also the time to remember the counsel found in 1 Peter: “Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you.”

The memory of that particular experience with the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve has not dimmed in the intervening 40 years.

I was tired of not being able to find a modest prom dress, so with an idea from my cousins, I decided to do something. A Young Women leader, Sue Brown, helped me collect used prom dresses from graduated seniors and rent them out to high school girls for no charge if the dresses were returned clean. Fellow young women and other sisters helped organize things and alter immodest dresses.
Within three months, we had filled not only a closet but a room with 195 dresses. A year later the project continues, now run by my younger sister, Jessica, who has collected an additional 105 dresses.

For two young women, Alisha, 18, and Nicole Bennett, 20, of the Highland Utah East Stake, one particular room is truly beautiful because of their efforts. They, along with their mother and another sister, assembled the crystal sconces and the large chandelier in the bride’s room.
Nicole explains, “Mom was asked to help work on the chandeliers. After the first day, she was asked to bring some people back with her because they needed more help. She asked us if we wanted to go.
“The next day we found that a lot of people were helping in the celestial room. They asked us to do the bride’s room. We assembled the ten sconces for the walls quickly, but when we started unpacking the big chandelier pieces, we couldn’t find the instructions. We asked one of the engineers, and he said the instructions had accidently been thrown out with the trash. All we had was an eight-by-ten picture of what it was supposed to look like. They gave us the picture and said to do our best.”
The four of them unpacked all the boxes. They had to wear gloves so they didn’t get oil from their fingers on the crystals. They had the brass framework, but the crystals were meant to fit together like an intricate puzzle. The women didn’t know where to start. It was overwhelming just looking at all the crystals with no clues about how they went together.
They turned to prayer. “We just asked for help in seeing where things should go,” Alisha says.
They worked the rest of the afternoon, and for eight hours the next day. The chandelier was large, wider at the bottom than the span of Nicole’s arms and more than five feet tall. But slowly they figured out how it was designed. “We would find one piece,” said Nicole. “Then we would find another that fit with it. Some of the pieces had to be put in first, or you couldn’t get the ones that followed in. We found you could not do them out of order.” Receiving the inspiration they needed was “just amazing. It showed us that the Lord had his hand even in simple things.”
Now that they think back about it, putting together this puzzling light fixture compares to “putting together” their lives. They must do so in such a way that they are led to the temple. Just like the chandelier that required certain parts to be done in a certain order, so their choices must follow an order, such as being baptized, attending church regularly, participating in Young Women activities, keeping themselves morally clean, dating only young men with the highest of standards, and living righteously as they prepare for a temple marriage. These things too must be done in order, with one thing leading to the next.
For Nicole and Alisha, the bride’s room at the Mt. Timpanogos Temple is a place where they feel at home. Their work has made it beautiful. It is one of the rooms they will go to on their wedding days. A temple marriage, always a goal, now has become more defined and clearer. They are resolved to visit “their” room again.

“Don’t forget this is fast Sunday.” Hearing my mother’s reminder was like hearing a judge pronounce “ten years to life.” Wandering out to the kitchen on a Sunday morning and discovering that the table was bare and there was no bacon smell made me want to crawl right back under the covers. How could a word like fast be associated with something that seems to drag on forever?
I remember fast Sundays spent pacing the kitchen floor as I tried to justify eating just a little something. “I need to take something for a headache, but I can’t take aspirin on an empty stomach.” When I persisted with my grumbling, good old Mom always said, “We don’t force anyone to fast around here. You are free to eat whenever you choose.” Sure. Eat while everyone else is fasting. And feel like a total jerk.
After a while, I learned not to complain and not to hover around the pantry. Instead, I’d go outside and mess around, or go to a far corner of the house and dive into the Sunday paper or a book—anything to take my mind off my stomach.
And so I fasted. At least I went without food and drink for two meals. I had been told I was old enough to fast, so I suffered through it, one Sunday a month. Rewarding? About like a forced run in gym class. It’s painful and unpleasant, and when you get through, all you have is the satisfaction that you toughed it out. Until—
Until one Sunday. I don’t know what got into me. (It certainly wasn’t pancakes! Might have been a past Sunday School lesson, though.) At any rate, I decided that I would really see if I could get something out of fasting besides killer breath. Why go through the discomfort and come away with nothing more than relief that it’s over?
So when I woke up that Sunday morning, I made a deliberate effort to be pleasant and patient. I didn’t prowl the kitchen, growling like an echo of my stomach. Yes, I spent some time reading the Sunday paper, but I also spent time (and effort) in the scriptures. When I went off to my room, it was not to sulk, but to pray—for patience, for understanding, and for an increase of testimony.
My mouth still tasted like something small and furry had hibernated in it. But mouthwash helped. My stomach still threw tantrums for a while. But then the hunger pangs faded into the background, partly because I was tuning them out, and partly because my body seemed to shift into another gear.
As the day progressed, I actually became happy. (No, it wasn’t delirium.) In fast and testimony meeting I found myself watching the speakers and listening to their testimonies, rather than watching the clock and listening to my stomach. Being there felt good. When dinner time finally arrived, I discovered that I was able to sit calmly. A new sense of self-control allowed me to eat reasonably, instead of giving way to the usual gluttony of the “feast of the fast over.”
On the fast Sundays that followed, I often had to relearn the same lessons. It’s so easy to let the stomach control moods, thoughts, temper. And it’s easy to go through the motions and discomfort of fasting without finding joy in it. But as I persevered, I continued to learn to actually enjoy fasting.
A few years later, in the mission field, proper fasting became even more important as I sought the blessings of the Spirit. Of course, I still had a missionary’s appreciation for food. In fact, one day our new zone leader leaned toward me over the lunch table, glanced down at my well-stocked plate, and said, “I’ll bet you really hate to fast, don’t you, Elder?”
My mouth was full of food, so all I could do was dumbly shake my head. But no. I no longer hated to fast.
Before I had really put myself into it, really looked for the rewards of fasting, I wouldn’t have understood what the Lord was talking about when he said:
“Verily, this is fasting and prayer, or in other words, rejoicing and prayer” (D&C 59:14; italics added).
But now I understand: There are rewards that go far beyond the meager satisfaction of just having endured.

There will be times in your service when you won’t have the remarkable and visible success of that young elders quorum president. That is the time when you will need to be confident that the Lord, knowing you would do your part in the work, called you through His authorized servants. Having faith in the call from the Lord’s servants was crucial in the missionary service of my great-grandfather Henry Eyring.

He was baptized on March 11, 1855, in St. Louis, Missouri. Erastus Snow ordained him to the office of a priest shortly thereafter. The president of the St. Louis Stake, John H. Hart, called him to serve a mission to the Cherokee Nation on October 6. He was ordained an elder on October 11. He left on horseback for the Cherokee Mission on October 24. He was 20 years old and a convert of only seven months.

If any priesthood holder had a reason to feel unqualified or unprepared, it was Henry Eyring. The only reason he could have had the courage to go was that he knew in his heart that God had called him through His authorized servants. It was the source of his courage. That must be the source of our courage to persevere, whatever our callings in the priesthood.

After Elder Eyring had served for three difficult years and upon the death of the mission president, Henry was nominated and sustained as president of the mission in a meeting held on October 6, 1858. He was surprised and as shocked as a new deacon would be. He wrote, “It was quite unexpected to me to be called to that responsible office but as it was the will of the brethren I cheerfully accepted, feeling at the same time my great weakness and lack of experience.”

The now-President Eyring traveled to the Cherokee, Creek, and Choctaw Nations in 1859. Through his efforts, the Lord “added,” as Henry recorded, “a number to the church.” He organized two branches but noted that “very few are alive in the cause.”

A year later, Henry was faced with the difficult reality that the political leaders among the people he was serving no longer permitted the Latter-day Saint missionaries to do their work. As he pondered what he should do, he recalled the instruction from his previous mission president indicating that he should prolong his mission until 1859.

In October of that year, Henry wrote to President Brigham Young for direction, but he did not receive a reply to his question. Henry recorded, “Not being able to hear anything from the Presidency of the Church, I called upon the Lord in prayer, asking him to reveal to me his mind and will in regard to my remaining longer or going up to Zion.”

He continued: “The following dream was given to me in answer to my prayer. I dreamt I had arrived in [Salt Lake] City and immediately went to [President Brigham] Young’s office, where I found him. I said to him: ‘[President] Young I have left my mission, have come of my own accord, but if there is anything wrong in this, I am willing to return and finish my mission.’ [In the dream the prophet] replied: ‘You have stayed long enough, it is all right.’”

Henry wrote in his journal, “Having had dreams before which were literally fulfilled I had faith to believe, that this also would be and consequently commenced at once to prepare for a start.”

He arrived in Salt Lake City on August 29, 1860, having walked most of the way. Two days later, he walked into the office of President Brigham Young.

Henry described the experience in these words: “[I] called upon [President] Young, who received [me] very kindly. I said to him, ‘[President] Young I have come without being sent for, if I have done wrong, I am willing to return and finish my mission.’ [Brigham Young] answered: ‘It is all right, we have been looking for you.’”

Henry described his joy, saying, “Thus my dream was literally fulfilled.”

Melinda Moody, 17, of Tempe, Arizona, won the 1972 Piano Concerto Contest sponsored by the Phoenix Symphony Guild and was honored by performing the Prokofiev Piano Concerto #1 with the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra.
As a winner, she was eligible to compete in another guild contest in which she won a full scholarship for the summer to the Music Academy of the West in Santa Barbara, California. There she studied piano with Jerome Lowenthal, noted concert artist. Melinda hopes to be a concert pianist herself.

Down in the South, when I was president of the mission down there, I went to one of the beautiful new chapels there—not of our Church—and the minister showed us through. The ground had broken away so that the basement was above the ground level, and I said to the minister: “Do you know what we would do with this if we had it?”
And he said: “What?”
I said: “We’d improve it and use it to entertain our young people.”
“Well, Mr. Richards,” he said, “you can do it. You have trained leaders, you don’t have to pay them. But we haven’t got them, and we can’t afford to pay them.” Now I knew he could not because one of our members sang in his choir each week and was paid by the minister for singing in the choir.
What if we had to pay all of these folks here, and then all of our ward choirs, and all of the auxiliary organizations. And, just think!—on Friday we had a gathering of the Regional Representatives of the Twelve. I don’t remember just how many were there, but I think about 190. They are businessmen, executives, and professional men, and go all over the country without any compensation for their work in order to help build the kingdom. Thank God for the gift of the Holy Ghost! No wonder the Prophet said that included all things.

I have witnessed this happiness in the lives of many members of the Church. Several weeks ago I had the assignment to preside over a stake conference in Cali, Colombia. I met a very special young man there who is a member of the Church and can well illustrate the meaning of true happiness.
His name is Fabián. His family belongs to the Church, and he learned of the plan of happiness when he was just a little boy. In 1984, when he was three years old, Fabián and his family lived in a house close to a large and busy avenue. That avenue was a route for many city bus lines.
One day, seeing the gate open, little Fabián tried to cross the avenue and got hit by a bus. Thanks to Heavenly Father’s goodness, Fabián survived the accident. His parents took him to three different hospitals that indicated they could not treat him. They continued looking for help, and, upon finding the proper medical assistance, they learned the prognosis was not very good. After performing multiple surgeries, the doctors informed the family that the damage to his feet and legs was so extensive that to save him, they had to amputate his right leg.
Little Fabián started a different life then, without one of his legs. He slowly learned to control his body balance and to walk with the help of crutches. He went to school and had the support of his teachers and friends. Some people used to mock him, but he soon learned not to care about the jokes they played on him.
He wanted to participate in all physical activities and did so frequently. Even though winning was very hard to come by, he was always brave and ready to participate.
Fabián currently serves as a counselor in the Young Men organization of his stake. He attends institute of religion classes and is active in the student body organization. He plays basketball and soccer. He also plays Ping-Pong with his friends from the institute. He rides a bike and does everything a young man can do. He works as a volunteer teaching English at a foundation that cares for poor children.
Fabián wants to serve his fellowmen and God with all his strength. He has a smiling face and is always there to help someone in need. Fabián is truly a happy young man. With an overwhelming strength which comes from his faith and trust in God, Fabián is a great example to the citizens of his hometown.
His happiness comes from striving to live worthily every day and to obey God’s commandments. He reminds me of a scripture found in Mosiah 2:41: “And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness. O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it.”

Every Saturday afternoon, without fail, the young people of the Matangiake Ward of the Liahona stake show up at their chapel to prepare it for Sunday. They know what to do. They’ve done it faithfully for more than four years, ever since they made the commitment to do all the upkeep on the building and grounds themselves. No one has to call with assignments anymore. The older boys teach the younger ones how to handle the mowers and edging equipment. The girls know all the nooks and crannies that need to be dusted and cleaned. The flowerbeds are immaculate. And they do windows too.

“It started with Bishop Sioeli Unga,” said stake president Howard Niu. “He wanted something to keep the kids active and involved in all aspects of Church responsibility.” And the youth rose to the challenge.

But their service did not stop with their own chapel and grounds. They have confidence that they can do any job given to them. They take care of the widows in their ward. In fact, they help out anyone in need. They have even gone so far as to build small homes, under the direction of their priesthood leaders, for families in their ward in desperate need of housing. The younger boys in Primary look forward to their 12th birthdays, when they are old enough to officially help with the projects the Aaronic Priesthood young men undertake. The younger girls often go with their older sisters, and they learn to serve.

Instead of being too hard for them, these projects have proven to these teens that they can do just about anything by learning from their leaders and being given the opportunity.

The Summiteers (girls who’ve certified in the camping program) agreed. Though smaller by about half in numbers, they were no less enthusiastic about their own independent campsite and schedule. Like the Adventurers, the Summiteers represented a cross section of wards and stakes.
This group made no duty roster. Instead, “everyone pitched in when the work needed to be done. The whole campsite was a group effort.”
The Summiteers did have one planned activity—an overnight canoe trip across Sylvan Lake. It began as a survival trip, “but by departure time, we’d packed a little food in the canoes.” Feeling like true mountain explorers, the group at one point had to make their precarious way through a patch of bullrushes where one canoe got stuck.
“The lake was calm as a mirror that night,” they recalled. “You almost hated to disturb it with your paddle. And the forest was quiet. For a few hours there, we were the only people in the world.”
Even though they ended up packing food, the girls felt that they possessed the necessary knowledge to live off the land.
“Not many girls could eat a snake or a gopher,” one confessed, “but we do know what kinds of edible vegetation to look for. We’ve had enough training to be able to survive.”

Susie sat at her desk in the back corner of the classroom, twirling a strand of shiny dark hair around and around her finger.
“Susie, do you have the answer to problem eleven?” Mrs. Marsh asked. “Susie?”
Suddenly hearing her name, Susie made the jump from her daydream to what was actually happening in the class. “No, Mrs. Marsh. I didn’t get it.”
She could hear someone in the class snicker. Why does somebody always have to snicker when you’re already feeling dumb? she wondered.
In her daydreams, nobody snickered at Susie. Of course, there was no reason to. In her daydreams, she always had the answer when the teacher called her. She was always picked first on the dodgeball teams. She was always surrounded by friends who thought she was smart and pretty. And she was always “all-American.”
Reality wasn’t nearly as nice. In reality, Susie was shy, not very athletic, not quick with the correct answers, not the popular blond beauty she wished to be. In reality, Susie was Japanese-American, and different from everybody else in her new school.
This week Susie had an additional problem: Tomorrow, Saturday, was Grandmother’s birthday. Grandmother Shizuko would be eighty years old. It was to be a very special birthday with a traditional Japanese dinner before the cake and ice cream. Grandmother had asked Susie earlier in the week to bring two friends to the party to meet her family. Grandmother was so anxious to meet her new friends that Susie couldn’t tell her that she hadn’t made any yet. Inviting friends to a Japanese dinner was not something Susie wanted to do, anyway. She wanted to be as American as possible. She didn’t want any of the kids at school to know how really different her family was.
Well, she would have to ask someone and just hope for the best. Actually there wasn’t much to lose. She couldn’t lose friends, because she didn’t have any. And the kids already knew that she was different, so …
Susie looked around the classroom. She decided to invite Dina, the smartest girl in the class, and Jackie, the friendliest. If she could choose anybody to be friends with, it would be Dina and Jackie. At recess time she gathered her courage and asked them. To her delight, they both said that they’d come. But would they think her family was strange?
As the time for Grandmother’s birthday dinner approached, Susie became nervous. She helped Mother set the table with the best china dishes, ones with a pale green bamboo design on them. She handed flowers to Mother, who arranged them in a beautiful centerpiece. Then she helped wrap the birthday presents and licked the beaters after Mother had frosted the birthday cake.
When the doorbell rang, Susie ran to answer it. Dina and Jackie stood on the porch, smiling. They were wearing pretty dresses and holding a package between them.
Susie took a deep breath and hoped that the party would go well for Grandmother’s sake and her own. She hoped once again that the girls wouldn’t find her family too strange, that they would accept her and her family as friends.
She led Dina and Jackie into the living room, where Grandmother sat in a large chair. “Grandmother, this is Dina and this is Jackie.” She turned to her guests. “This is my Grandmother Shizuko. I am named for her, but for Americans, I call myself Susie,” she explained.
The girls were not shy around Grandmother. “Are you really from Japan?” Dina asked.
“Yes. I was born in Japan, but I have lived in America for many years now,” Grandmother answered.
“Do you speak Japanese?” Jackie asked her. When Grandmother nodded with a smile, Jackie asked, “Would you teach us to say something in Japanese?”
“Konban wa (kone-bahn wah),” said Grandmother, bowing her head slightly. “It means ‘good evening.’”
“Konban wa,” the girls said to Grandmother and each other.
“We brought you a birthday present,” said Dina, holding out the package.
“Arigato (ah-lee-gaht-o).” Grandmother smiled. “That means ‘thank you.’”
The girls asked Grandmother what it was like to grow up in Japan. She told them stories about her childhood there, until Father announced that dinner was ready.
Everything was going well so far. The girls seemed to really enjoy hearing Grandmother’s stories and learning a few Japanese words. But what would happen now? What would they think of the food? The main course was sushi, a colorful green, yellow, and red roll made of rice, cooked eggs, vegetables, processed fish, and ginger, all wrapped in seaweed. There was also tai (tie), a cooked fish, and sekihan (sek-ee-hahn), a red rice, which symbolize good wishes; sunomono (su-no-mo-no), vinegared cucumbers; chicken teriyaki; and other delicious things. Afterward, the American traditional birthday cake and ice cream was served.
The girls ate some of everything, even the seaweed rolls, although they giggled when they found out what they were made of. “If I had known before that it was seaweed, I probably wouldn’t have eaten it,” Jackie said. “But I’m glad I did. It’s delicious.”
“We don’t always eat Japanese food like this,” Susie hastily put in. “Lots of times we have hamburgers or steak. We mostly eat American food.” She didn’t want them to think that she ate a lot of weird things.
“But this is terrific! I envy you,” Dina said.
To Susie’s amazement, Jackie nodded in agreement. And they looked like they really meant it. “You envy me?”
“Yes. You’re lucky to have such an interesting family with both American and Japanese traditions,” Dina told her.
“And a grandmother who can tell such interesting stories!” Jackie added. “She should come to school sometime to tell the class about Japan.”
“Oh, yes!” Dina agreed enthusiastically. “Your family is really unique.”
Unique! Susie had never thought of it that way. She had thought that her classmates would find her family strange, maybe even weird. But Dina and Jackie thought that they were unique, a family to be proud of! Susie felt ashamed for not realizing how special her family was.
As she looked at her family and new friends gathered around the table, Grandmother met her gaze and said “Ii tomodachi (Ee toh-mo-dah-chee),” which Susie knew meant “good friends.” And when Grandmother showed Dina and Jackie another Japanese tradition by presenting them with little Japanese bowls to take home, Susie was proud.

When the Rabasto family joined the Church a little over three years ago, they jumped into the gospel with both feet. After moving to the Bahamas from the Philippines, their dad, Adolfo, was called to the branch presidency. They hold regular family home evening. Archie and Roselle, the two high schoolers in the family, both attend seminary every day. They read the scriptures daily as a family. Rinna, the oldest sister in the family, is a student at BYU.
But what the family loves about the gospel most is the Christmas present they received last year. During the holiday break, the family took a trip to the temple in Orlando, Florida, to be sealed.
“I felt really excited to be in the temple,” says Archie. “I remember my sisters crying, and I felt happy, and peaceful.”
From Orlando, the family said good-bye to Rinna, since she was leaving for college. They miss her terribly, of course, but they say they feel calm about her being so far away in Utah, since they feel a lasting peace from knowing they’ll always be sealed as a family, no matter where they go.
“Everyone in the temple kept telling us how great we looked with our white clothes and jet-black hair,” says Roselle. “We felt great too. You could feel the air-conditioning in the temple, but I felt a warmth from inside. The feelings that I had there were indescribable.”

In 1830 Samuel also sold a copy of the Book of Mormon to Brigham Young’s brother: Phinehas (or Phineas) Young, a Methodist preacher. When he first met Samuel, Phinehas was returning home on horseback from his preaching circuit. He had stopped at a farm for dinner. As he and the family were visiting, a young man, dressed in rough clothes, entered the room. Book in hand, the young man said to Phinehas, “There’s a book, sir, I wish you to read.”

“Pray, sir, what book have you?” Phinehas asked.

“The Book of Mormon, or, as it is called by some, the Golden Bible.”

“Ah, so then it purports to be a revelation?” Phinehas asked.

The young man opened the book to the testimonies of the Three and Eight Witnesses and said, “Here is the testimony of the witnesses to the truth of the book.”

Phinehas read their testimonies. When Phinehas looked up from his reading, the young man said, “If you will read this book with a prayerful heart and ask God to give you a witness, you will know the truth of the work.”

Phinehas promised to read the book. Then he asked the young man’s name.

“My name is Samuel H. Smith.”

Phinehas had seen that name! “Then you are one of the witnesses.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “I know the book is a revelation from God, translated by the power of the Holy Ghost, and that my brother, Joseph Smith, Jr., is a Prophet, Seer, and Revelator.”

After arriving home Phinehas told his wife, “I have got a book here called the Book of Mormon, and it is said to be a revelation, and I wish to read it and make myself acquainted with its errors, so I can expose them to the world.”

True to his promise, he read the Book of Mormon—twice in two weeks. Rather than finding any errors, he became convinced the book was true. On Sunday, when his congregation asked for his opinion of the book, “he defended it for ten minutes, when suddenly the Spirit of God came on him with such force that in a marvelous manner he spoke at great length on the importance of it. … He closed by telling the people that he believed the book.”5

That summer, the Young family, including Brigham, and their friends the Kimballs read the Book of Mormon and believed it.

Christmas for young people today is quite different than Christmas was for me more than sixty years ago. For example, there is a great difference in the way we get Christmas trees. When I was a boy we used to go out onto the sidehills and cut the trees. I remember once my brother and I dragged a Christmas tree off the hill and when we got home there was only one side of it left. We had to stand it up in the corner so the bare side wouldn’t show.
We used to make all of our own decorations. We’d take tissue paper and cut it into strips and paste it together to make chains. And we’d pop corn and then string it to make garlands with which to decorate the tree.
We’d always have a special dinner on Christmas.
My uncle, Gaskill Romney, operated a planing mill and a sash and door factory. He had a lathe on which he would turn out baseball bats for Christmas presents for the boys, and we used to make our own little cabinets for the girls. Our toys were not as sophisticated as they are now.
But Christmas was always a happy time. To us it was the day the Savior was born.

Their work is sometimes closer to home—literally. Elder Bednar was repairing the roof on his home one day and went to a local store to purchase some supplies. He was wearing work clothes: casual pants and shoes, a T-shirt, and a baseball hat.
“A man approached me as I was selecting my supplies and said, ‘Elder Bednar, the disguise is not working.’ We laughed, and then he inquired, ‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?’
“I responded, ‘Well, that is why I am here.’
“He replied quizzically, ‘What do you mean?’
“I said, ‘… I am here because God knew we were going to meet each other in this store and that you had something about which you wanted to ask. Please go ahead and share with me your question.’
“We talked in the aisle for about 15 minutes, and I tried to help him find the answer to his question. Was it merely a coincidence that I encountered this good man at the local store? Or was this episode divinely orchestrated by a loving Savior who … responded to the concerns of a faithful man—a one?
“I believe that in the work of the Lord there is no such thing as a coincidence. The worth of souls is great in the sight of God.”

This is the testimony of two wonderful young people I met recently in Mexico, Brother and Sister Alvarez. They told me that since they were baptized eight months ago, rather than the estrangement from family and friends they had feared, they were finding a new love and respect being given to them, besides all the wonderful new friends that they had found among their brothers and sisters in the Church. They had prospered materially, and above all they had found a peace and nearness to their Heavenly Father that they had never known before.

Jeffrey sat on the front steps of his new house. It was a hot summer day.
He watched the children speed by on their skates. He wondered how he could be their friend.
“I need a stop sign,” Jeffrey told his mom. “Let’s stir one up,” Mom said.
They went inside the house and found a pitcher.
Jeffrey put water, lemon juice, sugar, and ice in the pitcher. Then he stirred everything together.
Mom got a big piece of paper. She helped him write “Free Lemonade” on it.
They put a little table on the driveway. Jeffrey poured lemonade in the cups. Mom hung up the sign.
When the thirsty children skated by, they stopped for a cool drink.
Jeffrey smiled and said, “Hello, I’m Jeffrey.” Now he had lots of new friends.

Responding to a theme of service announced by the Young Women, the youth of the Cherry Grove Ward in the Edmonton Alberta East Stake came up with an original idea. As a service to the community, the group decided to hold a free car wash.
Since the largest population center in their area was the Cold Lake Air Force Base, they decided to hold the car wash on the base. Although the day was cool and cloudy, nearly 100 percent of the ward’s youth showed up to help.
The young people reported that at first nearly everyone was suspicious. A frequent question was, “What’s the gimmick?” They answered with a smile and said that it was community service sponsored by the youth of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. All offers of donations were politely refused.
This project kicked off a series of smaller service projects including hospital visits and delivering treats to those in need of a visit.