Gospel Story Finder

David Whitmer, one of the Three Witnesses, gave a similar description of translation. He explained that Joseph Smith “would put the seer stone into a hat … to exclude the light; and in the darkness the spiritual light would shine. … One character at a time would appear, and under it was the interpretation in English.” Like Joseph Knight, David Whitmer heralded this process as miraculous and testified, “Thus the Book of Mormon was translated by the gift and power of God, and not by any power of man.”19

I remember that for fifteen years I was assigned by the Presidency to go around the Church. I visited all the stakes in the United States and Canada once a year, either individually or in regions, and assigned the welfare production budget. We built that program up until we were producing 70% of the commodities distributed to the people of the Church. It was a remarkable accomplishment.
At one time I could call by name every stake president in the Church. I was acquainted with every welfare project in the Church. I was commissioned by the Presidency to see that every bishop in the Church had a financial interest in a welfare production project, from the production of which he could take care of his people.

A few months ago I had the opportunity of attending a ward fast and testimony meeting. One who stood to bear his testimony was an Aaronic Priesthood adviser. His testimony provided me with a new appreciation of what it means for an Aaronic Priesthood bearer to hold the keys of the ministering of angels.
This adviser described some of his experiences with the ward Aaronic Priesthood that morning. As he was walking to church, he noticed two young deacons with fast-offering envelopes going to the homes of the members. He was impressed with the way they were dressed in their Sunday best and how they approached their assignment with quiet dignity. He then accompanied two priests to administer the sacrament in a residential home for physically and mentally disabled men. This was the first opportunity for these two young men to visit this home, and their adviser noted the respectful and caring way in which they approached their priesthood assignment.
Then the adviser shared a brief experience that deeply touched his heart, because one of the priests reminded him of what it really means to be a true minister of Jesus Christ—literally a ministering angel. The young priest who was passing the water to the congregation came to a man who appeared to have Down syndrome. The man’s condition prevented him from taking the cup from the tray to drink from it. This young priest immediately assessed the situation. He placed his left hand behind the man’s head so he would be in a position to drink, and with the right hand he took a cup from the tray and gently and slowly lifted it to the man’s lips. An expression of appreciation came to the man’s face—the expression of someone to whom someone else has ministered. This wonderful young priest then continued his assignment to pass the blessed water to the other members of the congregation.
The adviser expressed in his testimony the feelings he had at that tender moment. He said he wept silently with joy, and he knew the Church was in good hands with these young, caring, obedient bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood.

Glancing back over his shoulder across two hundred yards of dry powdery snow, Brian could hardly believe he had lengthened the distance between himself and the nearest challenger.
Tom Stacy was trying hard to repeat his last two wins in the annual cross-country ski race. But Brian was trying just as hard to capture the championship that had eluded him twice before. Realizing there was less than a mile to go, Brian was confident that Tom had little chance of catching up.
Listening to the soft shush, shush of his skis, Brian watched the clouds boiling over the hills and across the valley. The sky seemed to be getting darker and heavier by the minute.
It could be a whopper, he thought. But it’s probably a couple of hours away. Then his thinking drifted to Tom and how disappointed he would be at his failure to make three wins in a row. This was the last year Tom and Brian would be eligible for this particular race. After the ski season they would both be past the age limit. It was Brian’s last and only hope for a win which, he remembered bitterly, he might have had last year except for a stupid mistake.
Coming in ahead of Tom would be final proof of his skill. They were both good skiers. But then, Tom was good at everything he tried—swimming, running, jumping, and all kinds of team sports. Brian, though not inept, had never been outstanding in any of those things. But when he started skiing he discovered he had an unusual talent for it.
Casting another look backwards, he saw the space between himself and Tom hadn’t changed. As he rounded the brow of a hill, Brian noticed a small dark object in the snow ahead but he paid little attention. He kept his even, steady stride, not easing up or increasing his lead. Though it seemed unlikely, with a superhuman burst of speed Tom could overtake him.
Brian couldn’t help watching the dark object in the snow ahead. Then he saw it move and his curiosity was heightened. When he came closer, he found that a dog was struggling to get through the snow, but it was making little headway through the powdery drifts.
Brian tried to offer some encouragement to the dog as he passed by. “Come on, boy. You can make it,” he coaxed.
Hearing Brian’s voice, the animal looked up with a beaten, hopeless expression. The dog whined, a pathetic, pleading sound as forlorn as its expression.
Glancing from the stricken animal to the finish line ahead, Brian convinced himself the dog likely belonged to one of the nearby farms and, in spite of its painfully slow progress, should be able to get home.
He went on a few feet and the dog whined again. When he turned around, Brian was met with an expression even more pathetic than before. “You little mutt,” he said dismally. “Why do you have to keep looking at me that way?”
Sidestepping back, he made a quick decision and weighed his chances of carrying the dog to the finish line before Tom caught up. It might be a tip-to-tip race after all, but Brian still felt capable of winning.
It wasn’t until he knelt down that he discovered the dog was favoring one foot, trying to struggle through the snow on three legs. As Brian took the leg to examine it, the dog yelped with pain.
“Oh, oh, fella,” he said. “You’re in trouble.”
Tom had already cut the distance between them in half. The storm, too, was getting closer and uglier and might easily turn into a blizzard.
Brian picked the dog up in his arms. “Come on,” he said hoarsely. “We’ll win this race together.”
After another two or three hundred yards, however, it was plain they wouldn’t be able to do it. The dog was too heavy. It had already slowed Brian so much he could hear Tom’s skis behind him, sliding over the snow. At this rate he might not even come in second because the next racer wasn’t too far behind Tom.
No more than a minute later, Tom’s skis were even with Brian’s.
“What are you trying to do,” Tom asked, when he saw Brian carrying the dog, “give me a handicap?”
There was no taunt in the way he said it and Brian knew it was an offhand, spur-of-the-moment remark. Then Tom slowed and asked seriously, “What’s the matter with the dog?”
“It’s hurt, Tom,” Brian said. “I’ll bet its leg’s broken.”
Tom came to a complete stop and asked with sincere interest, “Are you sure?”
“I don’t know. He can’t move it at all, and the little fella yelps whenever I touch it.”
Tom shot a look backward at their nearest pursuer, who was gaining rapidly.
“Take off your coat, Brian.”
“What for?”
“Just take if off,” Tom repeated, at the same time unsnapping his own parka. He laid it out on the snow and asked Brian to do the same, then he lapped them across one another. As Brian settled the dog gently on the makeshift sling, Tom carefully wrapped the trembling body. Then he worked the coats around until the snapped sides were underneath, providing a snug, hammocklike cradle.
“Grab the sleeves on your side, Brian.”
Brian picked up two sleeves and Tom held the sleeves on the opposite side. By the time they started again, their closest competitor was a scant hundred yards away.
Matching strides, the boys kept together as they approached the group of people waiting at the finish line, their pursuer still too far behind to catch up with them.
“If you cross that line one inch ahead of me,” Tom teased as they neared the end of the race, “I’ll wring your neck.”
“I won’t,” promised Brian, smiling.
The tips of their skis crossed the finish line so close together that the judges had no choice but to call the race a dead heat.
“I wouldn’t have believed it could happen,” the official said, but the expression on his face showed that he was glad about the way the race turned out. “I guess the only thing we can do,” he added, “is to let you share the trophy. I suggest we flip a coin to see who gets it first.”
“That’s all right with me,” Tom said.
“Okay with me too,” Brian agreed, grinning broadly.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of win either of them would have preferred, but Brian couldn’t help feeling a warm satisfaction as he and Tom watched one of the cars drive away to take the dog to a veterinarian.

Although he loved to play softball in his youth, President Thomas S. Monson was a tall, skinny boy who felt disappointed each time he was chosen last for the team. He was not particularly athletic at first, but one day that changed.
“As a boy, I played team softball in elementary and junior high school. Two captains were chosen, and then they, in turn, selected the players they desired on their teams. To be selected fourth or fifth was not too bad, but to be chosen last and relegated to a remote position in the outfield was downright awful. I know. I was there.
“How I hoped that the ball would never be hit in my direction, for surely I would drop it, runners would score, and teammates would laugh.
“As though it were just yesterday, I remember the moment when all that changed in my life. The game started out as I have described: I was chosen last. I made my sorrowful way to the deep pocket of right field and watched as the other team filled the bases with runners. Two batters then went down on strikes. Suddenly, the next batter hit a mighty drive. The ball was coming in my direction. Was it beyond my reach? I raced for the spot where I thought the ball would drop, uttered a silent prayer as I ran, and stretched forth my cupped hands. I surprised myself. I caught the ball! My team won the game! This one experience bolstered my confidence, inspired my desire to practice, and led me from that last-to-be-chosen place to become a real contributor to the team” (Ensign, May 1989, 43).

“I really appreciate your agreeing to do this,” Jenkins said as he led Kyle down the long hallway of the research and development section of Megatech.
“I couldn’t believe what they told me on the phone,” Kyle said.
“It is a pretty remarkable breakthrough, isn’t it? You know, out of 500 randomly selected calls, we had 86 percent willing to participate in our consumer-testing phase. Eighty-six percent—that’s unbelievable. I don’t mind telling you we’re very excited about the possibilities of VI-CAM.”
“Can you tell me again what VI-CAM stands for?”
“Sure, it took me a week to get it right. It stands for Viewer-Interactive Computer-Activated Movies.”
“How does it work?” Kyle asked.
“It’s really quite simple. Have you ever had the experience of coming out of a movie and liking everything about it except for a few parts.”
“Yeah, that happens a lot.”
“I’m sure you’re aware how much computers have improved over the past few years. We can process information faster and store and recall it much easier. So what we do in VI-CAM is take a character in a movie and more or less reduplicate him or her into computer memory. We do that with each character in the movie. With a few additional computer graphics breakthroughs, the system we’ve developed lets you take those characters and actually program the movie you want to see.”
Jenkins led him into a small room with a large-screen TV. “There are refreshments in the refrigerator. Take all the time you want. I’ll set it up to get you started. First thing we do is have you watch the uncut Hollywood version of the movie and then Lorie, the main character in the movie, will come on screen and ask you how you’d like to edit it. You can see it in as many versions as you want and stay as long as you want. We’re open 24 hours a day. Have fun.” And with that Jenkins left.
Kyle watched the Hollywood version first. It was a PG movie called Party SchoolUSA.
After it was over the actress Lorie Summers came on the screen. “Kyle, you still there?”
Kyle didn’t answer.
She smiled. “Kyle, you awake, or what?”
“Sorry. I guess I’m just not in the practice of talking to a TV.”
“I understand. Well, how did you like the movie?”
“It was okay,” he said politely.
“Just okay?”
“There were some things I didn’t care for.”
“No problem. We can change it anyway you want. Did you keep notes while you watched?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. How about if we go through what you wrote down?”
Kyle glanced at his notes. “All the parents and the teachers in the movie seem so messed up. It’s like you’re trying to say adults are no help at all to teenagers.”
“That’s right, Kyle. Adults are incompetent and stupid.”
“I don’t agree with that. My parents aren’t.”
“Do you agree with everything your parents say?”
“No, but even when we disagree, I respect what they tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because they’ve been through it all once before.”
“Adults don’t know what it’s like now for kids growing up,” she said.
“Oh, maybe not the exact things, but a lot of things are the same.”
“So you want the adults to be more … ?”
“Like real adults.”
She smiled faintly. “Well, you’re shooting down about half the plot, but we can fix it up the way you want. Anything else?”
“I really like you in the movie, Lorie, but I was wondering if you could, you know, not swear so much.”
“That’s the way people talk these days.”
“I know, but it still bothers me.”
“All right. We’ll cut out the swearing. What else?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, there’s that one scene where you don’t have, uh, a lot of clothes on.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I didn’t feel comfortable watching that.”
“Kyle, let me ask you a question. Are you normal?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just wondering. Don’t you like the way I look?”
“Yes, but …”
“But what?”
“Why have that in the movie? It’s got nothing to do with the plot. It’s just thrown in there for no reason at all.”
“It sells tickets.”
“Maybe so, but why did you agree to be shown that way?”
“I’m not ashamed of my body, Kyle.”
“I’m not ashamed of mine either, but I don’t go around showing it to anyone who has the price of a movie ticket.”
“Kyle, let me tell you something. We’ve run this for 100 people today, and you’re only the fifth one who’s requested us to cut that scene. There’s someone a few booths down from you making similar changes, but yours is definitely a minority viewpoint.”
Kyle paused. “Who’s the other one making those kinds of changes?”
“A girl your age from Idaho. She’s in town for a few days. She’s staying with her aunt.”
“From Idaho, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s in Booth 27.”
“How far is that from here?”
Lorie paused. “Straight down the hall for 10 booths.”
“Do you mind if I go down there, and she and I talk to you from the same booth?”
“How do you know she’ll want to meet you?”
“Just a guess.”
“I don’t understand that at all.”
As Kyle walked down the hallway he glanced into each booth to see what others were watching. For some the changes in the movie had turned it into pornography. For others a simple teenage flick had become a horror movie with axes dripping blood. Kyle focused his attention on those who were watching. One man looked like he’d been there for days. His movie had degenerated to the extreme in degradation and horror.
Kyle reached Booth 27 and knocked. A girl his age opened the door. She looked like an outdoorsy kind of person with long dark brown hair and a nice smile.
“Hi, Kyle,” she said. “Lorie told me you were coming. I’m Susan Blair.”
They both stepped inside.
“Are you LDS?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure am.”
“I thought you might be. I am too.”
They sat down together on the couch in front of the TV console. Lorie came on the screen again. “Well, I see you two have met each other. Susan, I haven’t heard all your suggestions yet, have I?”
“Not yet. One thing is that I’m not happy with the way you portray people. In movies like this you always have the science nerd who can’t do anything right when it comes to talking to girls, the athlete who treats everybody like they were the scum of the earth, and the girl who goes through the movie mostly just smiling and looking dumb but beautiful.”
“So?” Lorie said.
“So some people who like science are fun to be with,” Kyle said.
“Yeah, and some athletes are friendly to everybody,” Susan said.
“And some beautiful girls have terrific minds too.”
“Are you two trying to ruin a perfectly good movie?” Lorie said.
“No, not really.”
“All right,” Lorie said. “I’ll see what we can do. Anything else?”
“I don’t like the way the movie ended,” Susan said.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Well,” Susan said, “for someone who believes in chastity, it’s just not the best ending.”
Lorie was getting red in the face. “They like each other so what they do is okay, all right?”
“It’s not all right unless they’re married,” Kyle said.
“We want it out of the movie,” Susan said.
“You’ve got adults sympathetic to kids, you’ve got a girl who wants to improve her mind, you’ve got everybody fully dressed the entire time, you’ve got athletes who aren’t jerks, and nerds who aren’t nerds, and the two main characters believe in—what did you call it, chastity? What on earth do you call that anyway?”
“We call that life,” Susan said.
The screen went blank.
A minute later the door opened and in walked Lorie Summers.
“She’s not real,” Kyle whispered.
“She looks real,” Susan said.
“I read about it in Omni Magazine. It’s a hologram. It’s done with lasers. Watch my hand. I’ll pass it right through her body.” He moved his hand through the air and touched her on the arm, which was very much real. He gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Susan asked.
“I have no idea how they do that,” he whispered back.
Lorie smiled.
“Are you real?” Kyle asked.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing about you two.
“You are real, aren’t you. You’re a famous movie star,” Kyle said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been interested in this project since it began. Sometimes I come here just to watch what’s going on. There’s a monitor in the control booth where I can see what everyone is watching. The one difference between this and a regular movie is that with VI-CAM what a person sees is exactly what he or she chooses to see. And so it’s a way to find out what monsters lurk in people’s minds. There’s a man in one of the booths—you may have seen him on your way here—he’s been here ten days. He’s living on whatever he can get from the candy machine. Each time he changes the movie it becomes more and more warped. It’s kind of scary.” She paused. “Which brings me to you two. Why are you so different?”
“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Kyle said.
“No it isn’t,” Susan interrupted. “I don’t know about the others who objected to the same scenes we did, but the reason we’re different is that we’re Mormons who try to live the way we’ve been taught.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Kyle said.
Lorie sat down. “I’ve got a confession to make. Even though I play a teenager in the movie, I’m actually older than that. I guess I used to believe what I was saying to you through the VI-CAM system. But time has a way of changing things. I’ve been wondering about things for a long time. Now I have a two-year-old daughter and I look at the world through different eyes. Sometimes it really scares me to realize she’s going to grow up in this world. You two seem a little strange to me, but I think you know how to avoid the bad things in the world today. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. How have you managed to escape?”
“Well, that’s kind of hard to explain,” Kyle said.
“Why is it so hard?” Susan said. “I think it’s simple. You escape evil by making good choices.”
A few minutes later the three of them walked down the long corridor together, talking about important things.

I can remember making many goals to complete the Book of Mormon. I made many attempts but would slowly lose interest and then start over again later. It wasn’t until my first year in college that I truly “experimented upon the word” (see Alma 32:27). I began getting up at 6:30 every weekday morning and reading for half an hour. Because I had an allotted time, I didn’t feel anxious to be done.
I began looking forward to reading the scriptures. After I read, I felt happy and peaceful. My whole day was affected. I could more easily keep a prayer in my heart. The Spirit stayed closer than before. My worries did not disappear, but my days really were happier.
I realized I was gaining a testimony of the scriptures. I had no idea that obeying the commandment to read the scriptures would bring me so many blessings. I felt as though I had been let in on a secret that only scripture readers knew.
Before I started my experiment, I didn’t really understand why we are commanded to read the scriptures, but I had a little faith—faith enough to read for a short time every day. And, as Alma taught, I gained a testimony.

If the young men of 150 years ago wanted to give service to a good cause, they could carry water to the men working on the temple. Today the Nauvoo Young Men are also deeply involved in giving service regularly. Each summer thousands of visitors come, swelling the numbers attending their ward. Every Sunday morning, without fail, the Young Men arrive at the meetinghouse an hour early to set up hundreds of folding chairs and prepare up to 32 trays for the sacrament. It doesn’t take a great deal of skill to set up chairs, but it takes ingenuity and a great plan to pass the sacrament to all those people tucked into classrooms or lining the hallways. All the deacons, teachers, and priests are needed to pass the sacrament. And they want to do it with dignity. “We get tired and want to take off our ties and jackets,” says Mark Hasek, 14, “but we know people will go back to their wards and say, ‘The Nauvoo boys did this.’ We’re a big example.”
Then after meetings, they have to move those hundreds of chairs outside, ready to be set up for the City of Joseph productions the following week. The boys are doing a little good-natured complaining about having to set up so many chairs when one of the girls pipes up and says, “We help with the chairs too.” The boys start to tease. “Yeah, the boys are responsible for setting up the chairs. The girls are responsible for sitting in the chairs. Everyone in the stake knows to call the Nauvoo Ward about setting up. We know chairs.”

I like the smell of flowers!
They are so pretty!
Is everyone excited for Easter?
Sort of.
Not really.
I thought you two enjoyed holidays.
We do! My favorite holiday is Christmas.
It’s my favorite too! I love getting presents.
Why aren’t you excited for Easter?
Easter is a sad day. It’s about when Jesus died.
Do you remember what happened on Easter Sunday?
I know! Jesus came back alive!
And we can come back alive too.
That’s right. Easter is a happy holiday when we celebrate Jesus’s Resurrection.
I love Easter.
Me too.

Only two months after Brother Angell’s return, the Saints assembled in Big Cottonwood Canyon, where they learned that U.S. President James Buchanan, reacting hastily to the biased report of disgruntled federal officials who had deserted their posts, had dispatched a military force of twenty-five hundred men to restore order and forcibly install a new governor to replace Brigham Young. Delaying tactics slowed the army until it had to winter at Fort Bridger, Wyoming. But when spring came, the threat of military action resumed. In late March 1858, Brigham Young ordered the thirty thousand Saints in Salt Lake City and points north to move south. Imagine their sorrow at what they found necessary to do next. Brigham Young had the entire temple foundation covered with dirt so the area would resemble a freshly plowed field. A group of public works laborers hid the cut stone.

Fortunately, the confrontation with the U.S. Army was resolved diplomatically. The Saints agreed to be “pardoned,” and the army agreed to establish its camp fifty-six kilometers southwest of Salt Lake City. However, in the event the army did not keep its promises and tried to occupy the city and defile the ground consecrated for the temple, the Saints were ready to burn their own homes to the ground.

The army kept the terms of the settlement, and two months later, in July 1858, the Saints returned to their homes. But the uneasy truce prevented work on the temple for the next two years, until Brigham Young directed the foundation to be uncovered in the spring of 1860. It took two more years to uncover the foundation. Then, a second major tragedy seemed to hit the temple project. Large cracks were found in the foundation walls. It was clear that the foundation would never support the temple President Young envisioned. Thus, the Saints began the arduous task of removing the original stones down to the bottom layer, to be replaced by better quality stones cut to fit without mortar. By 1862 the last stones were removed. It wasn’t until 1867—nine years after the foundation had been covered with dirt, and twenty years after the temple site had been selected—that the temple walls rose above the ground for the first time!

While it proved difficult to win over some of the editors and media outlets, it did not take much to win over the Saints. Small acts of service went a long way. During a conference in Manchester, James travelled to Leigh to visit Sister Rachel Bentham Jones who had been bedridden for twenty-seven years. He gave her a blessing and then returned to the meeting.17

Two years ago, my youngest brother, Chad, stepped through the veil. His transition to the other side left a hole in the heart of my sister-in-law Stephanie; their two small children, Braden and Bella; as well as the rest of the family. We found comfort in the words of Elder Neil L. Andersen in general conference the week before Chad died: “In the crucible of earthly trials, patiently move forward, and the Savior’s healing power will bring you light, understanding, peace, and hope” (“Wounded,” Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2018, 85).
We have faith in Jesus Christ; we know we will join Chad again, but losing his physical presence hurts! Many have lost loved ones. It is hard to be patient and wait for the time we will rejoin them.
The year after he died, we felt like a dark cloud overshadowed us. We sought refuge in studying our scriptures, praying with more fervency, and attending the temple more frequently. The lines from this hymn capture our feelings at the time: “The day dawn is breaking, the world is awaking, the clouds of night’s darkness are fleeing away” (“The Day Dawn Is Breaking,” Hymns, no. 52).
Our family determined that 2020 would be a refreshing year! We were studying our Come, Follow Me lesson in the New Testament book of James in late November 2019 when a theme revealed itself to us. James, chapter 1, verse 2 reads, “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into many afflictions” (Joseph Smith Translation, James 1:2 [in James 1:2, footnote a]). In our desire to open a new year, a new decade, with joy, we decided that in 2020 we would “count it all joy.” We felt so strongly about it that last Christmas we gifted our siblings T-shirts that said in bold letters, “Count It All Joy.” The year 2020 would surely be a year of joy and rejoicing.
Well, here we are—2020 instead brought the global COVID-19 pandemic, civil unrest, more natural disasters, and economic challenges. Our Heavenly Father may be allowing us time to reflect and consider our understanding of patience and our conscious decision to choose joy.

At a good-bye party I shared my reasons for going on a mission. As I finished, my friends shed tears. I believe they were touched by the Spirit of the Lord. Today some of them are serving missions. Others are investigating the Church.

Elder Mark Amiang,Nigeria Lagos Mission

Shortly after Ka Po was baptized, the sister missionaries encouraged her to take an institute class. It was held early Saturday mornings, and Ka Po remembers how hard it was to wake up and get to class on time.

A classmate called Ka Po every Saturday morning to wake her up and encourage her to attend class. One day the classmate gave the responsibility of calling to King. That was the beginning of their friendship.

Ka Po says, “Church activities helped us know more about each other.” Their first date was a dance practice for young single adults.

Ka Po and King dated for four years. King helped Ka Po share the gospel with her grandmother and brother. Then on the night he proposed, he met Ka Po in the playground of the school where she was attending night school. She had just finished a big exam and was exhausted, but she felt wonderful when he asked her to marry him and gave her an engagement ring.

They were married in the Hong Kong China Temple. Ka Po says, “I will never forget the day we were sealed in the temple. It was so beautiful and amazing that we could be together for eternity. I could not stop crying, and my heart was so full I couldn’t speak. I love the temple and the great blessing that we can go to the temple in our own country.

“Our temple marriage will influence not only us, but it can influence our children and their children. It is so important that we have the same purpose and goals on earth. I love the gospel, and I love my eternal spouse.”

I went to see my grandpa.
I thought he owned a zoo,
For there were lots of horses there
And lots of brown cows too.
I saw some playful puppies
And heard a quacking duck.
There also was a small white hen
That liked to say, “cluck, cluck.”
The pigs I saw went, “oink, oink, oink”;
The kittens cried, “mew, mew.”
I really had a grand old time
While at my grandpa’s zoo!

“Just meet me at 6:30 tomorrow night,” she tells her friends, being purposefully vague about what she’s planning. Aarika has invited 20 nonmember friends to participate in something she promises “will get you into the Christmas spirit.”
That something is a night of caroling to people in a rest home and a visit to the Los Angeles Temple grounds. Aarika thought this would be a great missionary tool to help introduce her friends to the Church.
It isn’t her first missionary experience, and it certainly won’t be her last. If there’s one thing Aarika knows, it’s how to tell people about the gospel. Then again, she’d never done anything like this with this many people.
So Aarika went to work. A week before Christmas she arranged for her friends to meet at the home of Bruce and Kathryn Ghent. He is Aarika’s stake president, and Sister Ghent volunteered to prepare a light dinner in her home.
Of the 20 friends invited, 12 came, and none of them knew what they’d be doing. They showed up because they were curious and because they liked Aarika.
“I had prayed before I did this. I was scared to death,” Aarika recalls. “You have to know how scared I was to do this. I had fasted and prayed that the girls would feel the Spirit, so I knew I needed something to get them in the spiritual zone.” That’s where the caroling came in.
After dinner, the group drove to a rest home to sing to the residents. But instead of “Jingle Bells” and “Winter Wonderland,” Aarika borrowed hymnals from her ward, and the girls sang Christmas hymns about the Savior’s birth. “Some of my friends had never been caroling. We sat with the people; we sang to them. And my friends were saying, ‘I love this.’”
Aarika was too.
After the rest home visit, it was time to go to the Los Angeles Temple to see the grounds decorated with Christmas lights. Aarika gave a short explanation about why the Church has temples; then she took them into the visitors’ center to watch The Lamb of God.
The group also saw another short film, Luke 2, followed by a walk around the temple while drinking hot chocolate and looking at the lights.
“My friends asked me tons of questions and kept asking me, ‘What am I feeling? I love this feeling.’” It was then that Aarika took the opportunity to bear her testimony.
“The best part was seeing my friends look at the Church in a different way. I think that night they actually felt why I love the gospel so much,” she says. “We grew close that night, and it strengthened my testimony.”

A young father was literally sinking. He, his two children, and his father-in-law had gone for a walk around a lake. They were surrounded by majestic pine-covered mountains, and the sky was blue, filled with soft white clouds, emanating beauty and serenity. When the children grew hot and tired, the two men decided to put the children on their backs and swim the short distance across the lake.
It seemed easy—until the moment when the father began to feel pulled down, everything becoming so heavy. Water pushed him to the bottom of the lake, and a frantic feeling came over him. How was he going to keep afloat—and do so with his precious young daughter on his back?
His voice disappeared in the distance as he called out; his father-in-law was too far away to answer a desperate plea for help. He felt alone and helpless.
Near panic, he realized that his water-saturated shoes were weighing him down. While working to stay afloat, he began to attempt to get his heavy shoes off his feet. But it was as if they were held on with suction. The laces were swollen with water, cinching the grip even tighter.
In what may have been his last moment of desperation, he managed to pry the shoes from his feet, and at last the shoes released their hold, quickly falling to the bottom of the lake. Free from the heavy weight that had been dragging him down, he immediately propelled himself and his daughter upward. He could now swim forward, moving toward safety on the other side of the lake.

Have you ever set a goal to start out the new year and felt super motivated to do it . . . for like one day? And then January 3rd comes along and nope. Your goal is out the door. Better to wait until next year and start again. [Side note: Don’t worry. We’ve all been there.] Here are some tips to help you stick to your goals!

Life can sometimes become unsettled in Nairobi, capital of Kenya in East Africa. But as children of a middle-class factory manager, my two siblings and I had plenty to eat and a home with everything we needed.
Elections in 2008 quickly disrupted our comfortable lives, however, and threw the country into chaos. Rebel crowds roamed the streets and looted businesses. Going to work, my father required a police escort.
For safety, we left the city and moved to a home our father was building 450 km (280 miles) away, in Busia, Kenya. But even there, we locked our doors.
Without question, Christmastime in 2009 was our toughest time ever. Every day during that season, we feared for our lives. People lurked outside our home, eager and ready to steal. A gang of thugs once marched toward us with machetes. We were often afraid to open the door. I am convinced that my faithful mother’s prayers kept us safe.
By then, my father was without work. Food soon ran out. Our Christmas meal that year amounted to boiled leaves plucked from bean plants my mother had planted. Despite our afflictions, my father stood firm, though he also felt deeply pained.
We became overwhelmed with dread and almost lost hope. “Why was this happening?” we asked ourselves. “Why are we going through such hardships after just joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?”
One evening two senior missionaries who knew our dangers braved the area to bring us a message of peace. We took courage as they recited Nephi’s witness and promise in 1 Nephi 1:20: “The tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance.”
We believed it.
The missionaries helped us understand that regardless of our afflictions, the Lord expected us to continue living faithfully. I vividly remember the peace and comfort that overwhelmed me that night. I knew, more than ever before, that the Lord was mindful of us and our plight. That night, and during trying times afterward, I learned that His tender mercies are magnificent.

Thank you for the article “Daughters of the Almighty” (Nov. 2003). I have been struggling with the things President Gordon B. Hinckley mentioned in this article. Because I am one of the three Latter-day Saints in my high school, it has been hard on me to be in the world but not of the world. Each day I struggle, but this article strengthened my testimony and showed me that I can achieve anything I put my mind to. The New Era has been a wonderful blessing to me. It brings me strength to know that I am not alone in the world and that others are fighting for what is right.Bridgett Moss, Conrad Ward, Great Falls Montana Stake