Gospel Story Finder

“Bridgette, have you seen my takkies?” Jaide said. Sometimes Bridgette borrowed Jaide’s clothes. This time, Jaide’s tennis shoes were missing.
“Bridgette!” Jaide called again. “Have you …”
Bridgette came into the room, holding Jaide’s white shoes. Only they didn’t look white anymore. They were covered with mud!
“What did you do?” Jaide said.
“I had to go outside,” Bridgette said. “And it was raining. So I put on your shoes. But I stepped in some mud and …”
“You’re always ruining my things!”
“And you’re always mean to me!”
That’s when Jaide heard awful words come out of her mouth: “I wish you weren’t my sister!”
Bridgette started to cry. Then she ran out of the room.
Jaide started to cry too. She hadn’t meant to say that.
Jaide looked out the window. Along the street she could see the lavender blossoms of the jacaranda trees. There were lots of them where her family lived in South Africa.
Usually, seeing the pretty trees made Jaide feel happy. But right now she didn’t feel happy at all. She had hurt Bridgette’s feelings with those sharp, ugly words.
Now she wasn’t sure what to do. She sat down at the table and looked at her scriptures. Last night she had been reading a story with Dad and Bridgette. It was about when an angry crowd came to take Jesus away.
Jaide opened her scriptures to that part and read, “And, behold, one of them which were with Jesus stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest’s, and smote off his ear.”
The disciple must have been really angry that Jesus was being taken away. Jaide read the next verse:
“Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword” (Matthew 26:51–52).
Then Jesus healed the man’s ear. Jesus was kind, even though the man was there to hurt Him.
Now Jaide realized what she needed to do. She needed to forgive her sister, like Jesus would. And then she would try to help her heal from the cutting things she had said earlier.
Jaide bowed her head and said a little prayer. “Please, Heavenly Father, help me make things right with Bridgette.”
Jaide looked out at the jacaranda trees again. She got a piece of paper and started drawing. She drew a picture of their street, lined with the beautiful trees. In the corner, she wrote, “I love you, Bridgette!” Then she went to find her sister.
Bridgette was sitting alone, staring at the floor.
“I made this for you.” Jaide held out her picture of the jacaranda trees.
Bridgette looked at the picture. “Thank you! It’s so pretty!”
“What I said was mean,” Jaide said. “I’m really sorry.”
“But I ruined your shoes.”
“It’s OK,” Jaide said. “I forgive you. Will you forgive me for saying something horrible that I didn’t really mean?”
“Yes!” Bridgette said. “Do you still want to be sisters?”
“Of course! I love you, and I want to be your sister forever.”
She liked the way those loving, happy words felt coming out of her mouth. It felt good to follow Jesus.

Everyone knows that computers are useful tools. You can play games, send E-mail to friends, even type up term papers for your European history class. But Laurels in the Aliso Creek Ward, Santa Margarita California Stake, know an even better way to use a computer.
“I looked up my parents in the Ancestral File™ [at her local family history center] on the computer and found the names of thousands of my ancestors. It was really neat!” says 18-year-old Rebecca Hope.
Liz Chocco, another Laurel, prepared the names of two deceased family members and was then baptized for them in the San Diego Temple.
“The Spirit was so strong,” says Liz. “I felt that these two relatives were actually there. I felt an eternal bond with them. The phrase ‘families are forever’ became real to me in the temple.”

I shall never forget one night almost three decades ago. My bride, Patricia, and I had been married for two years. We lived in a small duplex on Oahu’s north shore. I was an army infantry officer, a platoon leader, assigned to a unit at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. Our brigade had been ordered to war in Vietnam. My plane was scheduled for departure after midnight, and a good Latter-day Saint friend had agreed to take me to the airfield at 11:00 p.m.
All through that long evening, Pat and I sat on the sofa in our tiny living room with our fingers intertwined, watching the hands of the clock approach the fateful hour and listening to the soft lapping of the surf against the shore. The ticking of the clock seemed a metronome of mortality in painful contrast to the muffled rushing of the eternal sea. At last the hour of parting arrived. Inside the doorway to our little home, I clutched my bride to my bosom and kissed her one last time, and then I was gone. As I closed the door, I wondered if I had seen my sweetheart for the last time in mortality. It was truly night.
My friend and I drove silently in the darkness through the sugarcane and pineapple fields of Oahu. My heart felt as though it would break. Then as we passed Schofield, an unseen infantry unit on night maneuvers fired a flare. Its brilliance momentarily lit the inky darkness and seemed to ignite a spiritual flame in the blackness that invested my soul. My thoughts were drawn away from this saddest of days to the very happiest: back to that beautiful December day when Pat and I had entered the holy temple and there were sealed to each other, not just for this life only but for all eternity. I thought of the eternal covenants we had made. Like the sunrise, it dawned on me that no matter what happened in the uncertain future just ahead, Pat would always be mine. When I reached the air base, I telephoned her. In the spirit of a renewed hope and peace born of faith and understanding, we talked and laughed softly before once more bidding each other good-bye. It was only midnight, but for me the sun was already rising.

At the end of my junior year of high school, I was looking forward to my senior year. I believed that nothing was going to go wrong. But was I ever mistaken.
That summer I started dating a boy named Tom. We had been friends for about six years. Tom had had a few problems with the Word of Wisdom and morality, but that was in the past. I was sure I could change him.
Tom and I dated each other for a few months with no problems. He knew where and what I stood for, and he was okay with it. After four months, Tom moved 1,500 miles away to college. I thought I was so much in love that I couldn’t live without him. I knew he loved me. After all, he had told me so.
Tom called every other day, and we would talk into the night. Then Tom started coming home almost every month. That’s when the trouble started. Tom kept telling me we were going to get married after he finished his first year of college and I had graduated from high school. I wanted to believe we could get married and live happily ever after. I thought I was so in love with him that I gave in slowly to the pressure he put on me. We ended up necking and petting. Then he would go back to school and leave me for another month. I would wait by the phone every night for his call.
I started feeling guilty after a while and would take my frustrations out on others. I started fighting with my family and friends, and my grades started going down. I couldn’t eat or sleep, and I was feeling more and more alone.
One night my friends and I were sitting around my kitchen table talking about our futures. Right then it hit me. Everything I had ever wanted was being thrown away just because I knew if I didn’t give in to my boyfriend for a few minutes, he might leave me. I realized I wasn’t even worthy of a temple marriage right then.
I decided to call my bishop. I told him I would like to talk to him for a few minutes and made an appointment for the next night. I hung up the phone feeling better than I had felt in a long time. I knew this was the right thing to do.
I found myself sitting in the bishop’s office the next evening, nervous and unsure of myself. After a brief bit of small talk, the bishop asked what he could do for me. I started crying and told him I had had a few problems with Tom. I wanted to get rid of all the guilt and anguish I had building up inside of me. We talked about how to fully repent. And if I really wanted to fully repent, I would probably have to stop seeing Tom. Then the bishop explained some reasons why. I left his office feeling refreshed and more sure of myself. Now I had to tell Tom.
I went home and prayed that night in a way I had never prayed before. I really talked to Heavenly Father as if he were sitting next to me. I poured out my heart and soul that night and many nights after.
I didn’t know if I could bear breaking up with Tom. The night before he was to come home, I got down on my knees and asked the Lord to let me know that what I was supposed to do was right. Almost immediately I had such a feeling of peace and calmness come over me that I couldn’t deny I was about to do the right thing.
The next day I told Tom everything I was feeling. I told him we couldn’t see each other any more. He was upset and said some hurtful things, but I knew I was doing the right thing.
After I broke up with Tom, everything didn’t immediately fall into place as I thought it would. It actually got harder for a while. I was feeling miserable and made the people around me miserable too. But my Young Women leader gave me a quotation that says, “If a man is unworthy to take you to the temple, then he isn’t worthy of your undying love.” I think about that every time I catch myself wondering if I could still be with Tom.
I have learned through all of this that true happiness is feeling the Lord’s spirit where you are and in everything you are doing. If you can’t feel at peace doing something by yourself or with friends, then it probably isn’t the right thing to do. I have also learned if a boy really does love you, he won’t just tell you so; he will show you by treating you with respect and by helping you reach the righteous goals you have set for yourself.
Look to the Lord for his guidance and listen for his still, small voice, which will help you make the right decisions, and you will find what true happiness is.

It’s easy to get lost in Madrid.
I know I’m in trouble as soon as I get off the train. I give the address of the chapel to a cab driver, and he rubs the back of his neck while slowly shaking his head. He’s never heard of that part of the city. He’s never heard of that street. And he’s especially never heard of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. “What’s that?” he asks.
An hour later, we’re still driving around looking. Oh, we’ve passed some marvelous sites along the way—incredibly majestic, centuries-old buildings; statues; fountains; tree-lined avenues; ornate bridges. And the driver has learned a lot more about the Church. But we still can’t find the chapel.
After stopping to ask about 27 different people, we approach the right neighborhood. Suddenly, a nice-looking boy, probably about 17, runs out in the street to stop us. They’ve been waiting for me in the chapel, he explains, and have posted people at various street corners to see if they could spot me coming. They know it’s not easy in their city.
“It’s difficult here because the members are so spread out,” says Paloma Bosch, 17, in the interview that began as soon as I arrived. “If you fall, it’s easy to fall quickly because there aren’t many around to help you. But we try to look out for each other.”
I believed her. They’d looked out for me.

There have been times in my life when I felt as if there was no hope for me to be happy or to return to our Father in Heaven. Several years ago I was disfellowshipped from the Church. I had lived a life of pride and sin and had suffered greatly because of my actions. My engagement to the woman I loved didn’t work out, my relationships with others were suffering, and I wasn’t happy.
Although I wished I had chosen to be humble long before then, I was compelled to be humble and to seek to do the will of the Lord. I started to read the scriptures more frequently, to pray more often, and to seek to serve others. I tried to repair the relationships I had neglected for so long, including my relationship with Heavenly Father. I truly desired a change of heart.
It was early morning as I drove to school one day, and the sun was not yet up. The eastern horizon glowed, and the western horizon was dark, with a full moon descending behind it. I had developed the habit of conversing with my Heavenly Father while driving. As I prayed during this car ride, my mind was enlightened, and a new hope was placed within my heart.
I realized that my life was glowing and getting increasingly brighter, just like the eastern horizon. The darkness was dissipating, and my sins, which were as great as that full moon, were descending. They were not yet gone, but I knew that they soon would be if I continued my sincere repentance. I had hope that someday my life would be as bright as noonday.
With time and as I prayed for love for my Heavenly Father and others, I became more humble. Increased humility led me to serve God and others more selflessly, and my hope for eternal life and a better future was renewed and replenished. As that hope grew, so did my faith that my Savior, Jesus Christ, is mighty to save and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. I know the words of Mormon are true: “Ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal” (Moroni 7:41).

Darren and Stacey sold everything to chase his dream job of animating for a movie studio in London, England. But when they found out they were expecting a baby after years of trying, they realized they couldn’t afford to live there on just his income.
Christina Smith, photographer
Stacey: We started talking about moving back to Australia. In Brisbane there were no movie studios. Darren would have to essentially give up his career.
Darren: We were moving into darkness. We didn’t know what was ahead of us.
Stacey: When I was five months pregnant, I was given a last-minute assignment to speak in sacrament meeting. The topic was on having faith in Jesus Christ through trials. Up until that point, we still hadn’t decided on a name for our daughter. As I was preparing for the talk, I read through the Bible Dictionary and Topical Guide under “Faith.” I kept seeing the word faith, faith, faith, and I just 100 percent knew what to name our daughter. I looked at Darren and said, “Faith. That’s going to be her name. That’s what I want to name our daughter.”
Darren: We both felt really great about the name Faith. It seemed to encapsulate every experience we were going through.
Stacey: We had to have so much faith to give up Darren’s career, move back to nothing again, and start over with no job prospects.
Darren: We had to just move forward in faith and believe that everything would work out. We came back home and I took a teaching job in a related field at a university. Then I injured my back and had to pull out of the teaching job.
Stacey: We moved in with my parents. We had no money and no car.
Darren: I felt like I was at rock bottom. My wife was pregnant, but I had no job and we couldn’t afford a place of our own.
Stacey: There was a moment in the lounge room at my parents’ house when we knelt down and prayed.
Darren: We didn’t just pray, we pleaded for help to get through this and get back on our feet.
Stacey: It was probably the strongest prayer we’ve ever said together. The next day, my grandmother called and said she was buying a new car and wanted to give us her old car.
Darren: That just blew us away.
Stacey: We felt it was a direct answer to our prayer.
Darren: Then we heard there was a new studio opening in Brisbane. I got some contract work in animation.
Stacey: We didn’t think he’d be animating in Brisbane!
Darren: And my brother randomly came around with some baby toys.
Stacey: We were given so many things for our daughter from friends and family.
Then Faith was born and—I don’t even know how to describe it—she’s the best thing that ever happened. Now she’s over two, and we’ve moved to Sydney. Darren is still animating for movies, which we didn’t think would happen. We definitely feel blessed. Our faith has led us here.
Darren: We can definitely see the hand of God in our lives. I hope our little baby, Faith, absorbed some of our faith as we went through our trials. She is such a ray of hope and faith and delight!
Stacey: We’ve learned that no matter what we’re going through, the most important thing we can have is faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Whenever we have turned to Jesus Christ and had faith in Him, everything seems manageable. There is peace and happiness in following Jesus Christ and doing the right thing. The gospel has everything. It allows us to be happy in this life. I am really happy and I know it is because I’ve turned to the Lord, relied on the gospel, and had faith.
Darren: I’ve learned that God gives us commandments and laws to make our lives happier because He can see the bigger picture. When we can’t see what’s ahead of us, we need to rely on Him, keep His commandments, and go to Him in prayer. He will direct us through our trials and help us make our lives better.
Darren and Stacey Rea enjoy spending time with their daughter, Faith, on a beach near their home. Before Faith was born, the Reas faced several serious challenges. Not knowing what to do, Darren said, “We were moving into darkness. We didn’t know what was ahead of us.”
Faced with an uncertain future, Darren and Stacey found that their faith in Jesus Christ helped them through their challenges. “There is peace and happiness in following Jesus Christ and doing the right thing,” Stacey says.
The Reas are grateful for the spirit they enjoy in their home. “The gospel has everything,” Stacey says. “It allows us to be happy in this life.”
Faith is a reminder to Darren and Stacey of all the blessings they have received. “She is such a ray of hope and faith and delight!” Darren says.

Bella F.: For a religious studies class we went on a trip to a Church meetinghouse, and all the missionaries were there. It was fun. I also thought it was a really good way to choose who my good friends were going to be because you could tell who really respected other people’s religions. They’d say things like, “Oh, so you don’t swear?” And they’d say, “OK, great, I won’t swear around you” and stuff like that. We talked about how we don’t drink coffee and stuff, and they said, “OK, we don’t have to go to coffee shops.” They were just all really respectful.

First, let me tell you an experience related by Emma Rae McKay, wife of President David O. McKay:
“Last summer on reaching Los Angeles, we decided to have our car washed by one of those ‘Quickies’ on Wilshire Boulevard.
“As I was watching the last part of the operation from a bench, to my surprise a tiny voice at my elbow said, ‘I guess that man over there loves you.’
“I turned and saw a beautiful little curly-haired child with great brown eyes who looked to be about seven years of age.
“‘What did you say?’ I asked.
“‘I said, I guess that man over there loves you.’
“‘Oh, yes, he loves me; he is my husband. But why do you ask?’
“A tender smile lighted up his face and his voice softened as he said, ‘Cuz, the way he smiled at you. Do you know I’d give anything in this world if my pop would smile at my mom that way.’
“‘Oh, I’m sorry if he doesn’t.’
“‘I guess you’re not going to get a divorce,’ he [questioned me].
“‘No, of course not; we’ve been married over fifty years. Why do you ask that?’
“‘Cuz everybody gets a divorce around here. My pop is getting a divorce from my mom, and I love my pop and I love my mom. …
“His voice broke and tears welled up in his eyes, but he was too much of a little man to let them fall.
“‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that!’
“And then he came very close and whispered confidentially into my ear, ‘You’d better hurry out of this place or you’ll be getting a divorce too!’” (The Savior the Priesthood and You, Melchizedek Priesthood Manual, 1973–74, p. 207.)

Ray Wilson and his wife, Terry.
Photographs by Richard M. Romney
You could say Ray Wilson has ink in his blood. His mother ran a small-town newspaper in Paradise, California, called the Ridge Gazette. Starting at age 14, Ray became the printer. His sister, Kathy, sold ads and helped run the paper. The Gazette started as a weekly, became a daily for a time, and then returned to a weekly.
After their mother died, Ray and Kathy sold the paper and started a printshop. Three years later they were doing well enough to purchase the building where their business was located.
“We grew from there,” Ray says. He continued to run the printing equipment, and Kathy, always friendly and helpful, took good care of customers and accounts.
“We were doing reasonably well,” Kathy says, “not getting rich, but surviving.” They loved living in the town where they were born and raised and knew almost all of their clients personally.
Ruins of the Wilsons’ printing business.
That idyllic life ended abruptly on November 8, 2018, when a wildfire raced through Paradise, destroying almost everything.
“Our extended family lost six buildings in one day—Kathy’s house, our house, our business, and my wife, Terry, and her brothers lost three rental units,” Ray says. “We went from being OK to being homeless in less than 24 hours.”
“My brothers and I had rentals,” Terry says, smiling. “Now we just have property.”
And they also have one other thing, thanks to following a principle of self-reliance—insurance. That has helped, at least in part, to recover what they lost.
Ray, Terry, and Kathy had always operated their business and personal finances according to gospel principles. They knew about paying tithing and other offerings first, living within a budget, having an emergency fund, and getting out of debt. But insurance?
“I know that self-reliance teaches us to get out of debt and have savings and insurance,” Ray says. “I don’t know that having insurance is a spiritual principle as much as a temporal one, but it sure makes things a lot easier once you need it. It’s definitely been a blessing.”
So has the compassion of those around them.
“There’s another printshop in Chico [about 22 miles (35 km) away] that ordered a lot of banners and posters from us, so we were on a friendly basis with them,” Kathy says. “After the fire, they told us that if we needed anything, they’d be happy to help. They did jobs for us at cost so that we could meet our commitments and keep our customers. They also knew a lady who ran a printshop in Chico who wanted to retire, so they got us in contact with her, and it all just worked out.”
Ray’s sister Kathy joins him at their new shop in Chico, California, where hope is growing again.
Using insurance-settlement money, they were able to purchase the shop in Chico, and now their business is growing again. They have the previous owner’s client base, “and a lot of our customers from Paradise are finding us again,” Kathy says. Fortunately, they also have clients all over the United States. “I just finished boxing up some books,” Ray says. “They’re shipping out today to Portland, Oregon.”
When tragedy strikes, Kathy says, “you can’t just sit and cry about something you have no control over. You have to figure out a way to get around it. So that’s how we’ve done things. We find reassurance in knowing that the Lord is mindful of us, and we do our best to take care of ourselves.”
“I figured I wasn’t ready to just sit and do nothing,” Ray says. “So we prayed, asked God for help, and went to work.”
“That’s what’s impressed me about these two,” Terry says. “I’m at home, overwhelmed with all the paperwork and the loose ends that are still out there, even with insurance and other support. But Ray and Kathy get up every day and get going. They find a way to make it work. I think for me, just knowing that we’ve done what we can and that we’re doing our part—keeping covenants and commandments—brings us peace and confidence. You feel confident that there’s a way to move forward with faith.”

Grandpa has a red truck. He hauls lots of things in his truck. On Monday, Grandpa hauls hay for the cows. On Tuesday, Grandpa drives 5 pigs to the fair. On Wednesday, Grandpa hauls orange pumpkins on a dusty road. On Thursday, Grandpa takes 2 dogs to the vet. On Friday, Grandpa hauls firewood through a muddy field. On Saturday, Grandpa’s truck is very dirty. Kade and Karlie help Grandpa wash his truck. Kade sweeps the back with a broom. Karlie sprays the truck with a hose. Kade wipes the windows with a rag. Karlie scrubs the tires with a scrub brush. On Sunday, Grandpa takes Kade and Karlie to church in his clean red truck.

President Thomas S. Monson tells of a Sunday School teacher from his youth, Lucy Gertsch. One Sunday, partway through a lesson about selfless service, Sister Gertsch invited her students to give their class party fund to the family of one of their classmates whose mother had passed away. President Monson said that in giving that invitation to action, Sister Gertsch had “closed the manual and opened our eyes and our ears and our hearts to the glory of God” (“Examples of Great Teachers” [worldwide leadership training meeting, Feb. 10, 2007], Liahona, June 2007, 76; Ensign, June 2007, 108). Sister Gertsch had clearly used the manual to prepare her lesson, but when inspiration came, she closed the manual and invited her students to live the gospel principle she was teaching.

He and his wife, Amy, met in Poland where they were serving missions. After they married, they moved back to Poland when Elder Schwartz received a Fulbright Scholarship, which enabled him to study there with a future judge of the Polish Constitutional Tribunal.
During that time, he was excited to teach with the missionaries as he had during his mission. On returning from a meeting with the missionaries, Amy reminded him that he is a husband and father who now fulfills new roles, and that together they needed to think differently. Instead of going out with the missionaries, they invited missionaries and their friends to join them at home. As they shared the gospel in their home, they experienced more happiness and missionary success in one year than they had in both their missions combined. Elder Schwartz says he learned the wisdom of listening to a much wiser companion when doing the Lord’s work.

With the hovering heat it seemed more like the Fourth of July than Christmas Day. It was the kind of heat Santa Cruz, Bolivia, is famous for. But I soon forgot about the stickiness and my longing for a white Christmas in my excitement to visit Lily and her family.
I had thought about them often, worrying that the children wouldn’t receive any gifts for Christmas because of the economic situation of the family. Yet during the three months I lived with them, they always offered to share whatever they had with me and my companion.
The courage and determination of Lily, the mother, had impressed me as I watched her fight to support her six children by her own ingenuity and the sparse, sporadic help of her estranged husband. She was always an example of faith and trust in the Lord. She often visited other sisters in the ward she knew needed help, even when she was greatly in need of help herself.
I had wanted this to be a special Christmas for the family, so I bought gifts for the children and wrapped each one in pretty paper. But I had a hard time finding a gift for Lily. I kept thinking of the one thing I knew she needed.
Oftentimes missionaries would leave personal belongings behind to make room for souvenirs in their suitcases. Clothes that had been well broken in during their mission life were usually left with friends. Lily had always admired the one thing I hadn’t thought of leaving behind—my coat. It was a burgundy raincoat with a removable wool lining. My mother had helped me pick it out, and I loved it. We had bought it on a special sale where a certain amount of the price was deducted if you traded in another coat which would be given to charity. My mother had donated one of her coats to help me buy mine. My raincoat was my favorite possession. But now I just had two months left in my mission and it was summer.
They had invited us to join with them in their meal of chicken and rice. We gratefully yet reluctantly accepted. I knew that what we ate would be subtracted from their share. We talked and laughed, and the children opened their presents.
Lily told us how blessed they had been that Christmas. All the children had received one nice present through the telephone company where their father worked. Since they all had received a nice toy, she had asked each one to take a favorite toy, not one that was all worn out, and wrap it up. They each took the toy to church with them and gave it to one of the children in their ward who had not received anything for Christmas.
While we were talking, Lily motioned to the girls to go get something from the back of the house. The girls returned a few minutes later with a small package they laid in my lap. I opened it, and pulled out a white, odd-shaped, furry ball that had orange ears and crystal blue eyes. I wanted to cry. It was probably the funniest little stuffed dog I had seen, yet it meant more than any other gift I had received. I tried to protest. They didn’t need to give me anything. But there was no getting out of it. That little fur ball was mine.
It was then that I went to the corner and picked up Lily’s present. When I gave it to her she at first refused. “No, it’s your coat. I couldn’t.”
But as I insisted she began to cry.
She didn’t expect to receive anything, yet she had given me so much by her example of selflessness and her great power to love.
Now, years later, when I hold that little dog in my hands, I can still feel the warmth of our embrace and our tears intermingling. I remember the sweet peace I felt that Christmas day with a family that thought more about giving to others than they did about receiving.

One summer morning Elizabeth saw a big moving van pull up in front of the house next door. New neighbors! Wouldn’t it be fun if the new family had a girl close to her own age?
Later that day, while Elizabeth was playing croquet by herself in the front yard, she saw a car drive up next door. A man and woman got out of the car. And then a girl with bright red hair got out. She looked just the right age! Elizabeth ran over to meet her.
The new girl’s name was Becky. Elizabeth smiled at her. Becky smiled back.
“I’m playing croquet,” Elizabeth said. “Do you want to play?”
“I’ve never played it before …” Becky said shyly.
Elizabeth smiled and held out a croquet ball. “Want to learn?”
Becky nodded and ran over to play.
From then on Elizabeth and Becky were always together. During the day they played and ate snacks in their clubhouse. At night they sat by their bedroom windows and yelled to each other so they could keep talking.
One night as the girls were yelling back and forth, Elizabeth’s older brother stopped by her room. “You know what you two need?” he said. “Soup-can phones.”
“What are those?” Elizabeth asked.
“All you do is connect two cans with some string. You run the string between your windows. And then you won’t have to yell.” He promised to help set it all up tomorrow.
The next night Elizabeth and Becky had their first soup–can phone conversation.
The rest of the summer was filled with playing tennis, picnicking in the park, roller-skating, and playing more croquet. And of course, every night they talked using their soup cans.
All too soon summer turned to fall. With homework and dancing lessons (for Elizabeth) and swimming lessons (for Becky), they didn’t see each other as much as they had during the summer. But almost every night, they sat by their windows and talked using their soup-can phones.
They talked about lots of things. If Elizabeth had a hard day at school, she told Becky about it. And if Becky had good news to share, she always told Elizabeth.
One day Becky left for her grandma’s funeral. She didn’t know how long she’d be gone.
“I’ll miss you,” Elizabeth said.
Becky nodded and hugged her goodbye.
That night, after saying her prayer and getting in bed, Elizabeth couldn’t sleep. She missed talking with her friend.
A thought came to her: Why not pray? But she prayed every night before going to bed. And besides, she had already said her prayer tonight.
But the thought came again: Pray. Pray as if you’re really talking with Heavenly Father.
And so she got on her knees again and prayed. Only this time she didn’t just repeat what she usually said. This time she really talked about how she felt about things—small things and big things.
Prayer isn’t just a bunch of words you say, Elizabeth thought as she climbed back in bed. Prayer could be like a real conversation—like her soup-can conversations with Becky.
In her prayers Elizabeth started talking about things that had happened to her earlier in the day. She talked about her problems and her feelings. She felt like she’d found another friend.
Elizabeth was glad when Becky finally came home. That night they had their usual soup–can phone conversation. And later, just before she went to bed, Elizabeth had another special conversation—with her Heavenly Father.

A year or two later a business associate asked me if I would be willing to accept some counsel. I readily indicated I would be happy to receive it. He suggested that I was too abrupt, too impatient, too brusk, and too intent on achieving my goals quickly. I had such respect for this man that I spent many hours pondering his perception and have made a great effort over the course of many years trying to gain control over an intensity that might overshadow other qualities I would rather acquire. The direction of my life has been affected in a major way by this effort.

I grew up a member of the Church in Belize, but I wasn’t always a faithful follower of the Lord. My family was among the first members in Belize, but we had many trials. My father left us, leaving my mother jobless with three kids.
My mother’s faith in the Lord allowed us to overcome our trials. My mom worked hard to support us and to bring us to the Lord, but I had to gain a testimony for myself. For a time I chose wrong paths, mainly because of the company I spent my time with. They influenced me to draw away from—rather than near to—the Lord.
My turning point was when I started to spend most of my time with youth of the Church. I witnessed the marvelous spirit they had. It brought an unusual joy in my life. Seeing my friends going out to serve the Lord on their missions brought an even greater spirit.
Serving a mission was the last thing on my mind until I decided to turn to the Lord in prayer to find out if this was the way for me. As I prayed I felt the Holy Spirit’s power bursting in my heart. I have never before witnessed such marvelous power. It led me to know that a mission was right for me. I talked to my branch president, prepared spiritually and financially, and later served a full-time mission.

I had been to the doctor after my stomach kept hurting and I had headaches for several months. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with me, but I kept feeling ill. My mom said that we should turn to the Lord for answers. On fast Sunday, she was inspired to put me on a special diet. Soon I was feeling great! Even though I can’t eat some of the foods I like, I know I can accept this challenge because Heavenly Father and Jesus will help me through this.
Emeline B., age 9, Nebraska, USA

Andrew sat on the front porch step. He could see everyone who went around the corner. He took a bite out of his toast with grape jelly on it. He was very careful not to get his new shirt and pants dirty.
A milk truck stopped in front of Andrew’s house. The milkman jumped out and rushed up the sidewalk. He carried a wire basket filled with bottles of milk.
“Where are you going in such a hurry, Mr. Jones?” Andrew called to him.
The milkman put two bottles of milk on Andrew’s porch. “I have lots of milk to deliver this morning,” he said. He hurried back to his truck and drove around the corner.
Doctor Smith walked quickly down the sidewalk. She carried a black bag in one hand. She was huffing and puffing.
Andrew called, “Where are you going, Doctor Smith?”
Doctor Smith stopped and smiled at Andrew. “I’m on my way to the hospital. I have many people to take care of today.” She hurried around the corner, pushing her glasses up farther on her nose.
Mr. Wilson dashed past Andrew’s house. He carried lots of books.
Andrew called to him, “Where are you going, Mr. Wilson?”
Mr. Wilson stopped. His chest went up and down like a big balloon. “I’m on my way to school. I have many children to teach today.” He put his head down and hurried on around the corner.
Andrew’s father rushed out of the house. He stopped to smile at Andrew. “Anybody interesting going around the corner this morning?”
“Everyone sure is in a big hurry today,” Andrew told him. “Are you in a hurry, too, Daddy?”
Andrew’s father smiled. “Yes, I don’t want to be late to work.”
Andrew’s mother ran out of the house. “Wait, honey—you forgot your lunch,” she shouted to Andrew’s father.
Andrew’s father took the bag, waved good-bye to Andrew, and walked swiftly around the corner.
It seems like everyone is going somewhere today, Andrew thought. He sat and watched some more and was still very careful not to get his new shirt and pants dirty. He watched two girls running down the sidewalk.
Andrew shouted to them, “Where are you going so fast?”
One girl yelled to Andrew. “We’re meeting our friends on the school playground.” They waved to Andrew as they raced around the corner.
Andrew sat and watched the corner some more. After a long while, the letter carrier pushed his mail cart slowly up the sidewalk. He stopped to mop his wet face with his big blue handkerchief. “Good morning, Andrew,” he said. “My, you look extra happy today.”
“Today I am going somewhere, too,” Andrew told him.
“Yes, I know.” The letter carrier put two letters in the mailbox on Andrew’s porch, then pushed his cart back down the walk and around the corner.
Andrew sat and watched the corner the rest of the morning, but everyone who was going somewhere had already gone by.
Andrew’s mother called him in to eat lunch. He was very careful not to spill any of it on his new shirt and pants. “Is it time to go now?” he asked when he finished.
Mother smiled. “Yes, it’s time for us to go now.”
Andrew raced down the sidewalk then waited for his mother. Today was his turn to go around the corner. “Today I am going somewhere, too!” Andrew shouted happily. “I’m going to kindergarten!” Then he and his mother disappeared around the corner.

One day at recess I was bored, so I went over to my teacher. I was surprised when she asked me about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She said she went to a Christian church, so I told her about ours. I told her what the sacrament represents. She told me about her church and seemed interested in what I was saying about our church. I felt glad for doing missionary work. I’m glad I had the chance to teach my teacher.