Juan had never even heard of the cannery before it had been announced as the activity for his YSA ward. He’d made an effort to go to all the activities since getting back from his mission to Guatemala a few months ago, so he figured he would attend, even though it was all the way down in Aurora. The trip from Fort Collins took about an hour, but he had lucked out. Maddie had decided to attend as well and had agreed to carpool. Unfortunately his luck had changed when the YSA Bishop had asked him to give Jeremy a ride to the activity too...

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Bishop Abbott looked up at President Sutherland, feeling somewhat emotional. “That boy I found that day, that boy and mother I saved from the slaughter. You know him. He’s my son, Jacob.” President Sutherland looked at Bishop Abbott with a penetrating gaze. He could tell that he was sizing up his story, deciding how much he was willing to believe. After a minute of silence, he finally spoke...

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Porter sat straight up in his sleeping bag, sweat drenching him from head to foot. He place his face in the palm of his hands then reached over for his water bottle, guzzling down a few big gulps to ease his anxiety. He turned his head to look at Cecilia who was still sleeping a foot away. The missing chunk from her ear always stood out to him now...

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Howard always liked going with his older siblings and parents to pick grapes at the church welfare farm. It was their ward’s turn to help with the harvest and he especially liked picking season because the grapes would be ripe and there was no rule against eating as many as you wanted. He could taste the sweet grapes already...

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A small stream of blood ran down my face. I swore, inspecting the nick I had just given myself along my neck while shaving. The red swirled around the drain, stalking it like an animal stalks its prey until finally it slid into the abyss below. I ran over and grabbed a piece of toilet paper and patted a small piece of it onto the cut...

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“Mom! I don’t have any clean shirts to wear! MOM!”, Thomas yelled from the top of the stairs. It was his first Sunday as an official Deacon at church and he knew it was going to be special. The Sunday before had been an exciting day for Thomas - he had been waiting his whole life (or at least the last three years) for when his uncle would put his hands on Thomas’ head and give him a gift - a gift that not everyone would get...

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“Did you pack extra socks, your toothbrush, your scriptures and your water bottle?” “Yes I did”, Dallin called down to his mom who had been pestering him about packing for a week already. “I told you you should’ve just packed last night like me,” said Derek, his brother. “Mom always freaks right up until the last minute if you don’t have absolutely everything together...”

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There were three of them. I always saw them walking behind those two missionaries that had the black name tags in those nice dresses. They walked down the street every day, always busy, always going somewhere. I could tell they were best friends. Always smiling and chatting with each other. And no one would ever dare touch them. Not with those three brutes behind them...

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President Sutherland leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face. He reached up and rubbed the side of his face, pulling the skin taut as he pulled down on his cheeks. Bishop Abbott sat and waited, letting him digest everything he had just heard. President Sutherland reached into his desk, pulled out a mint, popped it in his mouth, then finally broke the silence...

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The wind jostled the tree leaves about as the cool breeze chilled Max’s back. His shirt was heavy with sweat from the long day’s work. But he was confident that this was the right spot. He looked over at Andrew who looked to be just as bad a mess as Max was. He sat atop another tree about 10 feet away. Max leaned forward on his own tree branch. They both were harnessed in of course, and they had done this many times before, so they were used to the long nights up in the trees...

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“Well, let’s go ahead and get started.” A tall, muscular man with a long black ponytail and hair cut close on the sides of his head stood at the front of the room next to an old folding table. “Welcome to the Desolation Community Center meeting of Bloodshed Addicts Anonymous. My name is Zerahemnah and I’m an addict.” Hi, Zerahemnah. Several voices hopped up from the rows of metal folding chairs.

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Whisper recited the words with the rest of her class. They recited the mantra every morning. When no lessons were in session, they logged onto the holo station in order to chant together. Then they were free to go about their day. But the mantra. The mantra was everything...

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Sister Fairfield! Would you be free for me and Douglas to come visit you sometime this afternoon?” Brother Larson asked in the foyer after church. He was a shorter man, with a messy head full of tangled black hair. He wore a hoodie over his white shirt and tie. Five children of various ages ran around him and tugged on his leg as he tried to initiate the conversation...

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Porter slammed the door shut behind him. He quickly fastened the column of deadbolts and locks that secured the door in place. Sweat dripped down his neck as he slumped down to the floor with his back against the door. He wiped his brow as he slowly regained his composure. His breathing finally slowed and his heart stopped pounding in his ears. He let his head fall backwards and looked up at the ceiling. That’s when Cecilia appeared at the bottom of the staircase...

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Warren was a devout member of his congregation. He took his duties seriously. Felt he had a strong testimony, yet had never had a strong confirmation of his faith. It's in the little things he often reminded himself. The Lord is in the little things. I just have to keep looking for the everyday miracles. Someone smiled at him at the grocery store. He thanked God for that tiny mercy. A small miracle of the day...

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“Mick, do you have all the lesson materials packed up and ready to go?” Catherine called out as she rushed to finish putting on her makeup. “Yep! All ready to go!” Mick affirmed from their bedroom where he was putting the finishing touches on his double windsor knot. He examined his handiwork in their dresser mirror and tugged at the tie making sure it was securely in place. Then ran his fingers down the length of its soft silky surface....

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Rain beat down on President Oldham’s car as he backed out of his driveway. He reached up to click the button hanging from the sun visor above his head. The garage door closed as he watched it dutifully. It acted up from time to time and refused to close, despite there being nothing in its way. It often seemed like things had a mind of their own to President Oldham....

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Greg drove up the dirt road kicking up a trail of dust behind him into the morning air. He had his windows down as the cool mountain breeze slicked his hair down to the top of his head. The smell of fresh pine trees filled his nostrils as his CD player skipped every 20 seconds due to his car jolting against the uneven path. He looked over at his best friend Joey who was bobbing up and down while singing along to the music. He was off key and couldn’t keep a beat to save his life, but he was clearly having the time of his life....

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The dancers responded accordingly. They repeated these three stanzas a few times. As she attempted one of the spins, Kirstin bumped into Tori, sending them both to the ground. Kirstin’s watch flew out of her pocket and landed on the ground. They dusted themselves off as the music continued. Kirstin grabbed the watch and did a double take. 10:56 it said, that couldn’t be right...

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The bell on the door jingled as I pressed it open. The smell of dust and overly strong perfume permeated the small shop as I stepped inside. I never thought I would end up in a place like this, but all other avenues had been fruitless. So, this was a last resort really. And one I really wasn’t looking forward to.

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Jen woke up excitedly, nearly jumping out of bed and knocking the lamp off her nightstand. Her alarm clock glowing a red 5:45 am and her calendar open to September. Today's date was circled: September 14. Her birthday. She was finally 18. Despite it still being pitch black outside, Jen was thrilled to be awake...

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“Elder, do you want to take this door?” my companion said to me as we approached a shabby looking house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The oppressive heat of the Texas sun beat down on my brow as I squinted up at the sun. “Sure Elder,” I said, “just let me grab some water first...

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“It happened to me as I was crossing the plains to settle with the Saints” I began. “I was part of the ​​William Atkinson Company of 1853. The journey hadn’t been easy, though it was much worse for others of course, you know all those stories. But no one else in the world knows my story. For me, that trip changed everything."

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I was seated on my childhood bed. It’d been a rough week. My depression had taken a nosedive over my first semester. My grades had suffered. I’d found people like me, but I didn’t feel like I fit in with them yet. Something had to change...

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I remembered the teaching I had heard since I was young. We used to joke about it. Used to make fun. But at this moment, I knew I should follow Joseph Smith’s teaching. A pit formed in my stomach as I reached out my hand and asked the messenger to shake it. My voice was shaky, but I remained confident that this was the appropriate action to take...

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Cathy could smell the cheese wafting through the stuffy air as the funeral potatoes baked in the oven. Judy’s grandfather, Al, had passed away and a small luncheon was being held afterward. Cathy had volunteered the dish she so proudly made at each potluck event. Hers were always a crowd favorite....

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Ally suddenly turned pale, then nervously glanced over her shoulder. “We aren’t… Mormons” she whispered the last part of the sentence so quietly that Craig could barely hear it. “We believe in the Book of Mormon. But we are called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints...

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I had just gotten back from arranging a solar system I was particularly proud of when someone wearing a bright smile appeared in front of me. It was startling at first to have individuals appear wherever and whenever they wanted to, but you got used to it after a couple thousand years. I recognized the individual immediately...

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It wasn’t uncommon for God to order destruction in the scriptures. But that was reserved for the wicked. Brother Jones was a good man. He’d been in the bishopric for a few years and had been nothing but good. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve any sort of punishment, certainly not at my hands...

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It was the strongest sense of deja vu he had ever experienced. His stomach knotted at that thought of having to sit through the exact same talks again. But he passed the time playing a game on his notebook with Parley....

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