Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes making a difference is as easy as saying one sentence. A couple of years ago, before the start of the girls’ basketball season, Sue said, “Let’s say a prayer.” They followed her suggestion before that first game, and it became a habit. “I always said the prayer before every game. Sometimes I would say, ‘Doesn’t someone else want to say it today?’ And a couple of times someone else would say it. Most of the time, the team would all be standing around waiting for me, yelling, ‘Sue, hurry up and pray.’” During her campaign for student-body president, Sue introduced a theme, “Seek for the highest that is in you.” As high school students will do, some started making fun of the theme. But Sue persevered, using the theme for all the activities throughout the year, and the silliness died down. The principal of Mt. Si, Scott Menard, said, “There are always those who will take something positive and try to undermine it. Sue was able to overcome that just by her good-naturedness and by not taking herself too seriously or getting defensive when people would put the theme down. She kept it through every assembly. She didn’t allow the focus to wander, and it became the accepted motto for the students that year.” One of the projects that the students at Mt. Si really had to stretch to complete was the painting of the school halls. It was a huge job. Sue and other student-body officers decided to try for it, but it was a scary undertaking. They needed more than 200 students to show up to help with each step of the project. What if they didn’t come?
Elaine Clifford, assistant principal, said, “I walked into the first meeting, and I knew right then that they were going to make it because Sue had a notebook ready to go. In it she had inspirational sayings and a time line about what needed to be accomplished. She had a calendar. She had a list of jobs that needed to be done. And she had invited all the right people. She had invited some students that she saw as leaders. She had invited someone from the maintenance staff. She got me there. She understands organizational skills.”
The big painting project was successful, but not before Sue sweated out some last-minute crises. The first day of the four-day project dawned bright and sunny. In the normal wet weather of northwestern Washington, a sunny spring day is a rarity. “Suddenly I panicked,” said Sue. “Who would want to come paint the school on a day like that? What are we trying to do?”
But people did show up—in time for the second crisis. After the walls were sanded and taped, it was time to apply the deglosser. Just as more than a hundred students were really getting into the swing of things, the custodian rushed up to Sue and showed her the label on one of the cans. The flammable deglosser was supposed to be used only in well ventilated areas. They opened every window and door, turned off the electricity to avoid sparks, and covered all the electrical outlets. In the meantime, Sue had retreated to ask for some additional help. “I whipped into the bathroom, my favorite bathroom for praying, and was down on my knees.” Everything went smoothly. The danger was avoided. And the group had a great time. It was hard work but really a lot of fun too.
After giving the school halls a new coat of pale gray paint with maroon trim, the students under Sue’s leadership took new pride in their school. Now, if anyone even thinks about marring the walls, they are warned by their peers, “Don’t try it. I painted this wall, and nobody is going to write on it.”
Then there was the talent show where, for the first time, the students who could play the piano, sing, dance, or act were highlighted. “The neatest thing,” said Sue, “was that we have these super talented people and they never get recognized like the athletes do. That was our point. People you never hear about came out and were excited to be in the show. We held a school performance and an evening performance.”
And there were other times when a sophomore boy broke up with his first girlfriend or a star athlete got kicked off the softball team for drinking. Principal Menard said Sue was there to help. “I’ve seen her take people of all grade levels, both sexes, with her arm around them when she knows they are down, just walking down the halls with them, talking to them and cheering them up. To have the student-body president come up and do that for you is a very meaningful experience to a lot of kids. I think she works so well with people on an individual basis.”
But what holds Sue together? Where does she get the strength and resolve to keep standing up and making a difference in other people’s lives? “My mom is one of my best friends,” said Sue. “After the hardest days, I can dump out everything. She has the answers. She’ll tell me things to do about school problems or boy problems. I do it, and it works. If I didn’t have her and my dad’s support, I don’t know what I would do.” Sue also gets good advice and support from her older brother and sister and younger brother.
The Church is one of Sue’s greatest sources of guidance and comfort. At youth conference, the bishop challenged all the youth to pray for confirmation that the Church was true even if they already had a testimony.
Sue accepted the challenge although she had some reservations. “I felt I didn’t need to ask because I know the Church is true. But I wanted to tell my friends about my testimony before I graduated. They sometimes tease me about being a Mormon.”
Sue did pray, but the answer didn’t seem to come in a big way. Then she and some friends had to drive to the next town to have their pictures taken for graduation. Suddenly, she was in the middle of an intense conversation about the Church with a receptive friend. The friend asked, “How do you know that it is true, Sue?”
“All of a sudden it dawned on me that Heavenly Father was giving me an opportunity to say that I do know the Church is true. Here I was bearing my testimony, telling her this is the truth. It didn’t hit me until that night that it was the answer to my prayers.
The friend then asked if she could go to church with the Keller family. Soon she was attending seminary with Sue and receiving the discussions from the missionaries. “That’s been the greatest,” Sue said. “I’ve never done that with a friend before.”
Sue Keller is just one girl, but she is one who has made a difference. Her dad, Ward Keller, tried to pin it down. “She’s extra special, and I don’t really know how she got that way.” But he really did know. In describing his daughter, he hit upon the quality that has helped her make a difference. “She’s been an example to her peers. She has held her standards and beliefs high and has lived them.”

When I was about six years old, my grandfather made a life-changing decision for me. He had previously taken me to a shrine, where he served as a fetish priest. As a child, I was drawn by the food offered there. However, one Sunday morning my grandfather forbade me from returning. With a powerful testimony, he declared, “There is no power under heaven or earth that supersedes the power of God, the Creator of all things. His Son, Jesus Christ, is the only Savior of the world. Satan has nothing to offer. Follow Jesus Christ. Pray to God through His Son, who will answer in His way.”
That testimony ignited a desire within me to seek God earnestly. I was in a situation like that of the Prophet Joseph Smith, whom the Savior told, “I was answered that I must join none of them, for they were all wrong” (Joseph Smith—History 1:19). I learned that God reveals Himself to those who seek Him sincerely. The power of testimony can transform lives, opening our eyes to the reality of God’s love and His plan for us.

I heard a recent experience that reminded me of such love. When all Church meetings were suspended due to the COVID-19 pandemic, a ministering brother accepted an assignment from his elders quorum president to bless and administer the sacrament to a sister he ministers to. When he called her to offer to bring the sacrament, she accepted reluctantly, hating to take him out of his own home in such a dangerous time and also believing that things would quickly return to normal.
When he arrived at her home that Sunday morning, she had a request. Could they walk next door and also have the sacrament with her 87-year-old neighbor? With the bishop’s authorization, he agreed.
For many, many weeks, and with very careful social distancing and other safety measures, that small group of Saints gathered each Sunday for a simple sacrament service. Just a few pieces of broken bread and cups of water—but many tears shed for the goodness of a loving God.
In time, the ministering brother, his family, and the sister he ministers to were able to return to church. But the 87-year-old widow, the neighbor, out of an abundance of caution, had to remain home. The ministering brother—remember that his assignment was to her neighbor and not even to this elderly sister herself—still to this day quietly comes to her home each Sunday, scriptures and a tiny piece of bread in hand, to administer the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.
His priesthood service, like mine that day in the care center, is given out of love. In fact, the ministering brother recently asked his bishop if there were others in the ward he could care for. His desire to magnify his priesthood service has grown as he has served in the Lord’s name and in a way known almost exclusively to Him. I don’t know if the ministering brother has prayed, as I did, for those he serves to know of the Lord’s love, but because his service has been in the Lord’s name, the result has been the same.

Martin Reynolds, 18, of Sutton Coldfield, has found extra blessings coming from hard work needed for his particular round.

“My mother and I agreed to deliver 2,800 daily papers around our area,” he explains. “These have to be dropped off at 14 pickup points in bundles of 100. We get up at 4.30 A.M. returning home by 6.00 A.M. Not only do I save for my mission and have money for other activities this way, but I also have the chance to talk with my Mum. We get along really well. And it’s been a good time for her to teach me to drive.”

Katie raised her hand. She had a very good question. Feeling OK to stray from the flow of the lesson, the teacher directed the class to a scripture that would help with an answer. Another hand rose with another question. Again, we turned the pages of the Book of Mormon for help with the answer. After the third time in this process, Katie raised her hand again. Almost before the teacher could call on her, she blurted out, “How do you know your scriptures so well? How can you find all that?”
The teacher thought for a moment. He said he was nothing special. He didn’t have a photographic memory, or even a very good one. And then he answered with another scripture: “By small and simple means are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6). The teacher testified that he read his scriptures often. He read them daily. And years of daily scripture study add up.

Once there was an ordinary house, with an ordinary fence, an ordinary yard, and an ordinary car parked in the driveway. What went on in this house, though, was anything but ordinary.
Anyone who knew anything about the Pout family who lived in the house would tell you, “Don’t borrow sugar there,” or “Don’t sell cookies there,” or “Don’t throw your ball over that fence.” You see, everyone in this ordinary house was extraordinarily grouchy. Mr. Pout and Mrs. Pout were grouchy. Sue and Lou Pout, their daughters, were grouchy. Even their dog, Boo, was grouchy.
It all started on a very ordinary day. “Why didn’t you mow the lawn?” Mrs. Pout yelled at Mr. Pout. Mr. Pout huffed outside, mumbling something about Mrs. Pout’s dry meat loaf.
Seeing Sue Pout out in the yard, Mr. Pout frowned and angrily asked, “Why didn’t you pick up your toys? I have to mow, and they’re in the way!”
Sue got up with a groan, threw her toys onto the porch, marched into the house, and stomped up to her bedroom. Lou was on the floor, playing with blocks.
“Get out of my room!” Sue demanded sulkily. “And play with your toys in your own room.”
Lou scrambled out of Sue’s room and into her own. Boo was curled up on her bed.
“You’re getting hair all over my bed,” Lou complained loudly.
Boo jumped off the bed and ran out of the room with his tail between his legs. He went outside and lay in Mrs. Pout’s flower bed—on purpose!
Day after day their grouchiness got worse and worse, and everyone in town tried to avoid them.
One bright morning, a stranger with a wide, red hat came to town. She was going to visit an old friend but could not find her house. She walked straight up to the Pout’s front door and knocked. Mrs. Pout answered with a frown.
“Good morning. My name is Eva Smiley, and I am looking for the home of my friend Ava Twinkly. Do you by chance know where she lives?” Eva asked with a smile.
“Next block over, three houses down,” Mrs. Pout grumbled as she started to shut the door.
“Thank you so much,” Eva said. “By the way, you have the most beautiful flower bed I have seen. You must have put your heart and a lot of hard work into such a magnificent display.”
Mrs. Pout was not used to hearing such kind words and could not help but smile at the stranger’s compliment.
“Well, have a good day, and thanks again for the directions,” Eva said as she walked toward the street, her wide, red hat bouncing with each step.
That day, for the first time in a long while, Mrs. Pout hummed as she worked in her flower bed, carefully tending each delicate flower.
Later, she saw Mr. Pout outside and called to him, “Thank you for mowing the lawn yesterday. It looks so nice!”
Well, Mr. Pout could not help but smile at the kind words. All the rest of that day, he whistled as he cleaned out the garage.
That evening Mr. Pout found Sue watching a television show. “Thank you for washing the dinner dishes,” he said warmly. “I appreciate how you help out around the house.”
Sue could not help but smile at the kind words and hugged her father for the first time in a long while.
Before going to bed, she noticed a picture Lou had colored and hung on the refrigerator. She went up to Lou’s room. “The picture you colored of the mountains is great! You made the mountains look big and real!”
Lou could not help but smile at the kind words, and that night she had pleasant dreams.
The next morning, Boo was curled up on Lou’s bed. She petted him and got up to get him a dog bone. “You’re a good dog, Boo, and you keep me warm at night,” she said gently.
Boo had not had a dog bone in a long while. It made him very happy, and that day he did not lie in Mrs. Pout’s flower beds.
That morning at breakfast, Mr. Pout grinned and said, “Would anyone like to go to the lake today for a picnic? We could get some ice cream on the way home.”
Bright smiles lit all the faces around the table. Something amazing and almost magical had happened to the Pouts. They were no longer grouchy! And although they would always be the Pout family, their attitudes from then on were most unpoutlike.
And somewhere a smiling stranger walked away from another house, her wide, red hat bouncing from side to side.

The people of Anaa, on the other hand, came to greatly love Elder Grouard. He was the first white missionary of any religion to come to their island, and many of them accepted the truth he taught. He baptized over 600 people, organized five branches, and called local officers to serve. He wrote to Elder Pratt and asked him to come to Anaa, as there was too much work for him to do alone.
Elder Pratt responded to his companion’s invitation, and a conference of the Church was held on Anaa with more than 800 in attendance. At this time Addison Pratt decided to travel back to Church headquarters to request more missionaries to help in the work in the South Pacific. Leaving Elder Grouard behind, he traveled first to California, then to the Salt Lake Valley, arriving in September 1848, one week after his wife and four daughters had arrived there from Winter Quarters.

The day after my baptism, I was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was during a fast and testimony meeting, and I decided, for the first time ever, to bear my testimony. As I spoke, a wonderful, warm feeling filled my heart. It was a confirmation of the Spirit that joining the Church was the right thing to do. That warm feeling was the beginning of my small testimony, which grew as I grew older. I know that children can gain testimonies of their own and that even small testimonies are enough to help us choose the right.

At home again, though I tried to keep active with a private study course and extensive reading, I found myself slipping into a major personal crisis. I had tried to go to church that summer, but I found it an ordeal. I was terribly self-conscious. I felt I was being stared at, and I became defensive about the smallest things. It was humiliating to have to be helped to take the sacrament. My reactions to people became paranoiac, and I invited feelings of worthlessness and guilt to enter my heart. I began to lose contact with the Church, preferring to stay in my little room in the back of the house. Here I withdrew into a world of isolation and depression. For five months I gnawed away at myself and demolished whatever strength I had acquired. The word cripple now applied to me both mentally and physically.
I neglected to pray as I should have, and I doubted the Lord’s forgiveness. I was not totally bitter, but in vain I tried to retain a spirit of hope. I know now that it was because of my ignorance of the sacrifice of Christ that I fell into this attitude.
Autumn passed into winter, and as the room became darker, so did my soul. I descended further and further into frustration and the feeling that I was as worthless a soul as had ever come into the world.
Then one night my mother came in and said that I had a visitor. The man who entered the room was tall and very self-confident—totally the opposite of my character. He introduced himself as Brother Howes from the local seminary. He had moved to town only recently, but he spoke about things as if we had known each other for some time. Though I didn’t know it then, this man would be one of the principal reasons for my returning to the gospel.
I expected that he would visit once or twice and that would be the extent of it, but these suspicions turned out to be false. Each week he came with the scriptures and began to nourish the spiritual side of me, which needed so much to be fed. With his help I began slowly to ascend once again to a point where some form of courage and hope became dimly visible. As time went by, I got interested enough to read the Bible and the Book of Mormon on my own; and through prayer I came to realize, for the first time, that I had something solid to cling to: the truth.

Before long, a shiny new chapel will be completed in Paterson, New Jersey. It’s currently under construction, and all the Church members in the Garden State’s third largest city are pretty excited.
But for now, members of the Paterson Second Branch still attend church in the annex of the Paterson City Hall, a building the branch rents for its meetings.
And though some members may not notice, the annex is cleaner than any other building on the street.
Fourteen-year-old Hector “Tito” Hernandez knows why.
In downtown Paterson, and especially on Market Street, where the annex is located, pigeons gather everywhere and leave—ahem—their marks on the buildings. Although clean on the inside, the outside leaves something to be desired.
When Tito joined the Church three years ago, he first attended the Caldwell Ward. When he moved into the Paterson Second Branch, he noticed how messy the annex’s exterior was. That started him to thinking. After discussions with his branch president, Tito decided what needed to be done.
So each Friday, Tito shows up at the building to make sure it is clean for Sunday services.
A little hot water, some soap, and a lot of effort on the granite building always do the trick. Even the mailbox, which sits right outside the front door, gets the treatment. At first, due to years of neglect, Tito had his work cut out for him. “The first couple of times were hard. But every week that went by, it got easier and easier,” he says.
“We want people to join our church,” Tito adds. “It makes me feel pretty good because I know [nonmembers] look at our church. I want the building to look nice for them.”
The routine is set. Tito gets out of school then either walks, rides his bike, or gets a ride downtown from his home on 10th Avenue. It might be 95 degrees outside or the wind could be howling while snow falls. It doesn’t matter. Tito is going to be there cleaning the place.
And Tito isn’t working solo any more. What started out as a project by himself has evolved. Now he’s enlisted the help of fellow ward members Jose Jimenez and Jose’s younger brother, Edwin. The trio arrive at the building, and the caretaker lets them in. They grab the familiar red bucket, fill it with soap and water, and head out the door for a few minutes of cleaning. The boys, huge sports fans, then fill their cleaning time with discussions about which basketball player has the best jump shot or who is baseball’s best shortstop.
Funny how fast the time goes when you’re doing something worthwhile.
Funny how good they all feel when they’ve finished the job.
“We do it for free,” says Jose, 13. “We want to because we do it for God.”
Tito and Jose also understand the importance of example as Aaronic Priesthood holders, especially for Edwin, who turns 12 later this year.
“Tito and Jose are teaching me how to become a deacon,” Edwin says. “They show me how the priesthood works. I want to be an honest, respectable young man.”
And sometimes being honorable and respectable means you have to be up to your armpits in suds.

May I share one example of priesthood strength in Africa? About two years ago I hosted a former minister of Finance from Ghana who visited Utah. He had served for eight years and is recognized world wide for lifting the economy of this poor African nation. While meeting with a member of the Twelve he shared a remarkable discovery he made during this visit. He said that when he became the Minister of Finance he was convinced that in order to improve Ghana's economy, corruption must be eliminated within the government. He began quietly observing and testing government employees to see who would not take a bribe or be dishonest. He found only two that he could fully trust and he elevated them to key government positions. Then he said, "I did not know until coming to Utah on this trip that those two men are members of your church." One of these two brethren is now serving in the Africa West Area Presidency and the other is in the Accra Ghana stake presidency.

Our leaders have demonstrated that one can enjoy both faith and humor. It was said of President Heber C. Kimball (1801–68) that he prayed and conversed with God “as one man talketh with another” (Abr. 3:11). However, “on one occasion, while offering up an earnest appeal in behalf of certain of his fellow creatures, he startled the kneeling circle by bursting into a loud laugh in the very midst of his prayer. Quickly regaining his composure and solemn address, he remarked, apologetically: ‘Lord, it makes me laugh to pray about some people.’”5 This sense of humor was not lost on his grandson, President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985).

Another man who had a great sense of humor and enthusiasm was Elder LeGrand Richards (1886–1983) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. One day a stake president came to my office to see me. On the way out, he stopped to see Elder Richards, who would be coming to his stake in a week or two. He asked, “Brother Richards, how are you?” That great Apostle said: “Well, President, I will tell you. My body, the house I live in, is getting old and creaky.” Then he added, with all 95 years of his life testifying, “But the real LeGrand Richards is on fire.”

A good sense of humor will help us hone our talents. One of the talents that needs to be greatly magnified is sensitivity to others, and this involves reaching out and touching another heart. By learning not to be afraid ourselves, we are able to stir up kindred feelings for others. Under the cultivation of the Holy Ghost, our talents become greatly magnified.

Balance in large measure is knowing the things that can be changed, putting them in proper perspective, and recognizing the things that will not change. And balance also lies in attitude. May our attitude be one of achieving balance and wisdom and understanding in all that we do.

Maintaining a righteous balance in our lives is important for personal well-being.

When we make the right choices, it is much easier to yield “to the enticings of the Holy Spirit” (Mosiah 3:19), which will help us stay balanced.

In large measure, balance is knowing the things that can be changed and putting in proper perspective the things that will not change.

It is easier to ride the bumps of life if we cultivate a sense of humor and learn to laugh at ourselves.

Balance lies in our attitudes, which can be shaped by our righteous desires and by prayers to Heavenly Father.

A few years ago, my wife and I had the sacred privilege of meeting with some faithful members of the Church in Mexico City. Many of them, either personally or through their loved ones, had endured indescribable trials, including kidnappings, homicides, and other heartbreaking tragedies.
As we looked into the faces of those Saints, we did not see anger, resentment, or a desire for revenge. Instead, we saw a quiet humility. Their countenances, though marked by sorrow, radiated a sincere longing for healing and comfort. Even though their hearts were broken by suffering, these Saints pressed forward with faith in Jesus Christ, choosing not to let their afflictions become gaps in their faith or cause instability in their testimony of the gospel.
At the conclusion of that sacred gathering, we greeted each one of them. Every handshake, every embrace became a quiet testimony that with the help of the Lord, we can choose to respond with temperance to the frustrations and challenges of life. Their quiet and unassuming example served as a tender invitation to walk the Savior’s path with temperance in all things. We felt as if we were in the presence of angels.

When our family was living in France and our children were young, we made it a practice to invite friends and neighbors—most of them not of our faith—to attend their baptisms. We hoped these occasions would help them become more familiar with our Church.

At the end of one of these services, a friend approached me and shared her impressions. “What touched me the most,” she said, “was the young woman in your family who offered the opening prayer. She spoke to God so naturally—as if she knew Him. All my life, I have prayed through proxies, but I never felt comfortable enough to talk to God directly. He felt distant—even frightening at times. Oh, how I wish I could pray like this young woman!”

How grateful we are to know that God knows us personally, that He loves us, and that we can speak with Him directly. He is not distant. He is aware of us, and He cares—even about the smallest details of our lives.

One day when President Hinckley was about five years old, he was sitting on his front porch with some friends. A family of another race walked down the street in front of the house. Young Gordon and his friends made some unkind remarks about the people. His mother heard what they said, and she took them inside to talk with them. She told them that all people are sons and daughters of God. That day he learned that we must respect and help one another, regardless of race, religion, wealth, or anything else.

I want to thank each of you—the translators and all those who help publish the Liahona. It is because of you that I have the blessing of holding the words of our prophets and the General Authorities in my hands.
I was baptized as a child but was lost to the Church for a long time. When I heard Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (in October 2004 general conference), he helped me believe that the Savior made it possible for me to be redeemed from my sins. I have experienced that change of heart spoken of by Alma, and my joy is complete.Araceli Arroyo Romero, Mexico

Huldah, her parents (Gardenar and Delecta Farrar Clark), and her five sisters were converted to the Church in New York. Driven from their homes by mobs, they joined the Saints migrating to the Salt Lake Valley. While traveling with the wagon train, Huldah met a young Scot, Richard Ballantyne, one of the officers of the pioneer company. Huldah and Richard grew to love each other. In Winter Quarters, Nebraska, on February 18, 1847, they were married by Heber C. Kimball.
The couple’s first home was a shack on the east bank of the Missouri River. When winter passed, the wagon train continued west. Huldah gave birth to their first child, Richard Alando, in their covered wagon on June 1, 1848.
Life was hard in the Great Salt Lake Valley. While Richard struggled in the fields to raise crops, Huldah worked inside, trying to stretch their meager supplies into enough food for their family. She learned to use sego lily roots, thistles, and weeds in preparing meals. Potatoes were mixed with flour to make bread.
Huldah and Richard fought storms, grasshoppers, and drought. Despite their constant work, they experienced repeated crop failures. Although they had barely enough to live on, Richard was inspired to start a Sunday School for the children of the valley. With Huldah’s help, he cleared land and built an adobe house. When he grew weary, Huldah quietly encouraged him and worked beside him. She helped him select music and lessons for the Sunday School. For over a year Sunday School was held every week in the Ballantyne home.
At a special conference held in Great Salt Lake City on August 28 and 29, 1852, Richard was called to serve a mission in Hindoostan (Hindustan), India. For four years the Ballantynes had been hungry. Their clothing was inadequate to protect them against the harsh winters; they had no money and little food. With Richard gone, life would be even harder. Yet Huldah did not hesitate in supporting her husband in this call. She immediately began to prepare clothing for Richard, darning his socks and scrubbing and mending his white shirts. When she discovered that his one suit was totally threadbare, she ripped out the seams of her best homespun skirt, made from material that she had woven and dyed herself. She took Richard’s measurements and carefully tailored a suit for him. That suit was to last him throughout his mission.
Richard was gone for three years. By herself, Huldah cared for their three small children, tilled the land, and made all of the family’s daily necessities. She carded wool and extracted dyes from roots, leaves, bark, vegetable peelings, and cochineal bugs. From beef and mutton tallow, she fashioned her own candles. Scraps of fat, rind, and meat trimmings were saved to make into soap. After soaking and drying potatoes, she grated them to use as starch.
Throughout her life, Huldah quietly loved and took care of her family. She did not serve a mission or even travel far from her own home after she settled in Utah. Yet her influence was deeply felt in the lives of her husband and nine children.

One year I set a New Year’s resolution to read and study the entire Book of Mormon. I wanted to gain a rock-solid testimony of the book and the gospel. However, sticking to a schedule was harder than I thought, and I soon became overwhelmed and discouraged. I lost sight of my original goal to gain a testimony, and I stopped reading altogether.
The next year I was setting goals again. With only two years of high school left, I wanted to focus on preparing for a mission. I knew that in order to be a successful missionary, I had to study and gain a testimony of the Book of Mormon, but I remembered my earlier attempt and was overwhelmed by that task. I thought, “I tried that last year, and it failed miserably.” Reading the Book of Mormon began to feel impossible, so I said a prayer.
A calm feeling washed over me, and I realized then that gaining a testimony isn’t a “yearly” thing—you can’t set a huge goal to “gain a testimony” and then just expect it to come by the end of the year. Conversion happens day by day and week by week, not year by year.
So I set a smaller, more manageable goal. Every Sunday, I would reflect on my week, setting short-term goals to help read the Book of Mormon and improve my testimony, and realigning myself with my end goal, which was serving a mission.
Most of my goals were really small, like reading earlier in the day to be more attentive or changing the way I marked my scriptures. But I saw an impact in my life. I am still not perfect at reading my scriptures—far from it—but I am blessed with the motivation to keep trying. I can see the blessings of the gospel in my life, and I have the assurance that I can become who Heavenly Father wants me to be.

An acquaintance of mine grew up not far from here. By the time he was 14 years old, he was over six feet tall and very uncoordinated. He said, “One afternoon when I was in a 10th-grade seminary class, the Spirit really touched me. I came to know that the gospel literally was true. I made up my mind that day that I wanted to serve the Lord in any way I could.”
By his senior year, he was well over six feet tall and much more coordinated. Many universities offered him scholarships to play basketball. After his first year playing at a university, he told his coach that he would like to be excused for two years to go on a mission. The coach said, “If you leave, you can be sure of one thing: you will never again wear one of our basketball uniforms!” Many thought that his “mission” ought to be playing basketball. Even some family members, including his parents, tried to convince him not to serve a mission. But he was totally committed. He was willing to give everything to the Lord—the scholarship, the applause of the fans, and the excitement of playing. He knew what the Lord was counting on him to do. He was called, and he served an honorable mission.
When he returned two years later, he was even taller and about 35 pounds heavier. His coach decided to repent. He was permitted to wear one of those basketball uniforms again, and in his senior year, his team not only won the conference championship but went on to the finals in national competition.

To start out, I would like to relate an experience I had several years ago. When I first moved to Rexburg about 6 years ago, I was called to be the 2nd counselor to a new Bishop here in Rexburg. This new bishop, even though he was young, he was very wise. Well it just so happened that we had a member of the quorum of the seventy in our ward at the time of our call. And this young Bishop, he being wise, asked this member of the seventy to give some personalized training to us in the bishopric. So this Elder graciously agreed. As part of this training, the Elder talked directly to the other counselor and me for a while. He talked about the need of counselors to support the Bishop and how we could lighten his load. It was really good counsel. After speaking with us, he turned to the Bishop to give him his council. And to the best of my recollection, this is what he said. "Now Bishop, your job is really easy." And then he paused and then continued "Bishop, your job is to be perfect." And I remember sitting there thinking, oh yea, I knew I did not want to be Bishop.