Gospel Story Finder

Claudia R. of Colorado, USA, tells how she held her ground:

“I feel like society is moving toward a gray area. For example, people will say about alcohol, ‘One sip isn’t going to kill you.’ That kind of rationalization is essentially playing mind games with yourself. And it’s in those situations—the ones that seem harmless—where agency is really tested.

“So you have to learn to stop, to put your foot down. Some people take what starts out as a gray area, and that gray area becomes really dark. And then you’re kind of stuck.

“I had gone on several fun dates with someone, but one time we were alone in the car in the dark, and he tried to pull a move on me. I knew that what he wanted to do could lead to other things. I was not going to let that happen, so I jumped out of the car.

“As single adults, when something goes against our standards, we have to take a stand. With dating, of course, you want to hold hands, hug, and kiss. But Satan wants to deceive us into thinking that the law of chastity is a gray area where partial obedience is OK.

“Our standards need to be firmer than ever. We need to decide before the difficult decisions come up. We have to put our foot down when things are wrong. I know our world isn’t easy; we have so many things going on. But the prophets and apostles have given us standards and guidelines. I carry a wallet-sized version of For the Strength of Youth with me, and it gets me through hard times.”

Joseph Smith, however, remained a big concern. I couldn’t believe he was a prophet of God, and every time someone taught about him I wanted to shout, “That’s not true!” But I couldn’t utter it. When I was asked to share my testimony, I repeated words I had heard others speak.
Though I did not believe Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, I did believe some of the Church’s teachings and enjoyed attending church—except for the first Sunday of the month. Over and over I would hear the members bearing testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet. It irritated me. I eventually became so angry that I didn’t want to attend church. I made up excuses not to attend, but Papa wouldn’t allow any of his children to be left at home on Sundays.
I was about 14 years old when Papa enrolled me in seminary. That really bothered me. I wasn’t interested, and I felt forced to attend. The first meeting, I purposely arrived late. But to my surprise, no one was at the chapel except Brother Cedillo, the custodian. He turned out to be my seminary teacher.
When the other students arrived, Brother Cedillo asked if any of us had read the Book of Mormon. Nobody answered. He opened the book and asked us to read with him, beginning at 1 Nephi 1:1. I do not remember what else my teacher said that day, but I do remember the powerful testimony he bore of the Book of Mormon. I was touched in my heart, and as I walked home I felt happy. I couldn’t understand why.
That night I resolved to read the Book of Mormon. I started reading after dinner, with a prayer that I could understand. I kept reading till midnight. As I read, I imagined the characters in the Book of Mormon acting out the scenes as if I were watching television. I didn’t understand some of the words, but as I read of the sufferings the prophets in the Book of Mormon endured for testifying of the truth, tears rolled down my cheeks. I had been angry at members of the Church for doing the same thing the prophets had done! I pictured myself as one of those who had persecuted the prophets—and realized how ungrateful I had been.
I continued reading the next day and into the night. I couldn’t sleep until I finished reading the Book of Mormon. When I finally closed the book, I knelt and asked God for forgiveness. In my prayer, I testified that I knew the Book of Mormon was true. And I knew that if the Book of Mormon was true, then Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, because he translated the book. As I said “amen,” my face was wet with tears. I felt at peace and filled with joy.
The experience helped me later when I served a full-time mission in the Philippines Cebu Mission. It helped me understand better my investigators’ concerns about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. Today my heart still fills with gratitude for the great blessings God has given me and my family.

During the depression years in the 1930’s, we lived on a poor farm in New Jersey, with unproductive soil yielding meager crops. Strawberries were the only plants that responded adequately to our efforts, but the strawberry season is relatively short and our yearly income was so small it was hardly worth mentioning.
I sold our strawberries in liter-size baskets in front of our house, which was on a county road. The returns for the strawberry season came to $40, the only cash we had seen for a long time. The $4 seemed a pathetically small sum to offer as tithing, and with a family of four young children, the money was desperately needed in many ways. But I was determined to pay our tithing, and did so.
We were not aware of any immediate blessings, other than having the satisfaction of doing what is right. However, the following year the strawberry-leaf blight struck the area. All the plants in the fields literally died—all but ours. Our plants remained healthy and yielded a crop of big, juicy strawberries.
People came from several kilometers in every direction to buy our strawberries. Our customers supposed we had a hardier species of strawberry plants and wanted to buy some of our plants for their gardens. When we told them ours were the same type they already had in their fields, they believed we must have given our strawberry patch some special attention and were skeptical when told the plants received only ordinary care. We did tell them that we had tithed our income of the previous year, but there were few Latter-day Saints in our area and most people looked doubtfully at us when we mentioned tithing.
Blessings may not always be so strikingly apparent. Latter-day Saints may enjoy a continuity of business success or employment and good health and they may be inclined to accept their blessings without thinking much about it, but at a time when the economy was at low ebb, our blessing of a good crop was to us an irrefutable example of the blessings that come from paying tithing.

Many years ago, my ministering brothers invited me to seriously study the Book of Mormon. When they gave me this invitation, I realized that, although I read a little from the Book of Mormon each day, I wasn’t seriously studying it.
They shared a promise with me that was based on words from President Ezra Taft Benson: “There is a power in the [Book of Mormon] which will begin to flow into your lives the moment you begin a serious study of the book. You will find greater power to resist temptation … to avoid deception … to stay on the strait and narrow path” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Ezra Taft Benson [2014], 141).
I accepted their invitation, and in the following months I saw that their promise was fulfilled. It has changed my life.

Like many new converts, I struggled to live the Word of Wisdom and the law of tithing. Tithing was for me the most difficult. How could I possibly take something away from the little that was just barely enough? The Lord helped me understand how I could do just that by teaching me a wonderful lesson.
As I began to pay tithing, I realized I would have to put my finances in order. I immediately began to budget my money better. I made a list of all my monthly expenses, starting with tithing. I compared the list to my monthly income. To my astonishment, there was enough to live on and even a small amount for savings. I was also surprised to see how much money I had previously spent on alcohol and coffee. The Lord blessed me financially and spiritually as I worked to live His law.

On another occasion, when Governor Carlin of Illinois sent Sheriff Thomas King of Adams County and several others as a posse to apprehend the Prophet and deliver him to the emissaries of Governor Boggs of Missouri, Sheriff King became deathly ill. At Nauvoo the Prophet took the sheriff to his home and nursed him like a brother for four days (Cannon, p. 372). Small, kind, and yet significant acts of service were not occasional for the Prophet.

I had been a member of the Church for about a year when a missionary challenged me to subscribe to A Liahona (Portuguese). I had never read a magazine like A Liahona in my life. While reading the first issue of my subscription, I received a testimony that the things written in it were true. I was able to see what the gospel of Jesus Christ does in the lives of people. Now as I read the magazine I try to find counsel to apply to my own life.
Jeferson Carlos Nogueira da Silva,Aracati Branch, Mossoró Brazil District

“Hey, wake up,” someone says, poking you.
Groggily, you look at the clock next to your bed. It’s 6:30 a.m.? What’s going on? Wait, that’s not your clock. And this isn’t your bed. Where are you?
“Hey,” the voice says, “you’re the one who wanted to follow us around. It’s time to get the day started.”
As you peer up at the missionary standing over your bed, you finally remember what’s going on. Church magazines offered you the opportunity to follow a missionary companionship around for a day, and you jumped at the chance to see what missionary life is really like.
You just didn’t realize it would start this early.
“Hi, I’m Elder Jesse Ward, from Utah,” the tall missionary says as you sit up. “Welcome to Spain. This is my companion, Elder Pierrick Triplet.”
Elder Triplet is from France, and he isn’t learning just Spanish but English too. Despite the challenge of having to learn two languages at once, Elder Triplet is grateful to be on a mission.
“I’m a convert,” he says. “I’ve had a great change in my life, and I’d like others to have it too. A mission can be hard work, but seeing someone change his or her life is worth it.”
They’ve got your attention. You’ve always heard that a mission can be the best two years of your life. Today you get a chance to find out why.
6:41 a.m. After taking time to pray, the missionaries spend some time working out. Push-ups, sit-ups, even a little light weight lifting are the usual for Elder Ward. Breakfast follows a shower and shave. Cold cereal is a favorite.
8:07 a.m. Missionaries spend a good deal of time studying individually and as a companionship so they can obtain the word before declaring it (see D&C 11:21). After language study and personal scripture study, it’s time for companionship study using Preach My Gospel.
9:55 a.m. Missionaries dedicate a lot of time to planning, at the beginning of the day, throughout the day, and at the end of the day. They talk not just about what they’re going to do but about what each investigator needs.
Today the elders are talking about a man from France, an investigator they’re going to invite to be baptized.
“He’s worried,” Elder Triplet says. “He doesn’t feel worthy.”
“Let’s talk about repentance and how God remembers sins no more,” Elder Ward suggests after the companions think it over. “Why don’t you teach it in French to make sure he understands?”
The last thing the elders do before leaving is pray—again. This is one of many prayers they’ll offer today. Missionary work requires a lot of heavenly help. Then it’s out the door and off to the bus stop in a hurry.
11:09 a.m. Missionaries talk to anyone anywhere anytime about the gospel, because they never know who is going to be interested. While waiting for the bus, the missionaries chat with a young man and give him a pamphlet with their phone number on it.
11:21 a.m. A 10-minute bus ride and a short walk later, the missionaries arrive at a rented meetinghouse at the same time as their investigator. The meeting begins well, but the investigator’s concerns push the 45-minute lesson they had planned on to more than an hour.
“That was the most frustrating lesson I’ve ever been in,” Elder Triplet says afterward. “He likes the Church. He thinks it’s true. He wants to pay tithing. But he doesn’t believe he needs to be baptized again. He was a little argumentative.”
“He’s a great guy,” Elder Ward says, shaking his head. “Maybe he’ll be ready to talk about baptism next time.”
2:06 p.m. The missionaries jump on another bus, this time to El Casco, the historic quarter of Toledo, Spain. They stop by an investigator’s business to invite him to an activity that night.
“You can get lost in here really quick if you aren’t paying attention,” Elder Ward says of the maze of narrow streets lined with buildings that seem to lean over those walking below.
2:24 p.m. While navigating the tight streets, the missionaries stop to offer help to a woman carrying a heavy load. They spend a moment explaining who they are and what they do, but the woman isn’t interested.
2:47 p.m. It’s siesta time in Spain, so the missionaries catch a bus back to their apartment, or piso, for lunch. “Everything shuts down between 2:00 and 4:00 p.m.,” Elder Ward explains. “Some people get mad if you knock on their doors.”
“This is chorizo, or sausage,” Elder Triplet says poking at lunch. “It’s typical food. We eat a lot of noodles and chorizo because it’s cheap and easy to make.”
“The mission is great preparation for marriage,” Elder Ward laughs as he mixes his Kool-Aid. “You have to learn to get along, cook, clean, do laundry, budget, and take care of yourself.”
4:24 p.m. Back in El Casco, the missionaries meet with a counselor in the mission presidency about current activation efforts.
“This is a great area,” says Elder Ward, who explains that Church attendance has gone from about 15 to 80 members each week because one family set the example of fellowshipping.
4:59 p.m. The elders end up with a little unexpected free time on their hands, but missionaries are used to doing some planning on the fly. Their backup plan was to do some tracting.
5:42 p.m. In El Casco, where so many people live above street level, knocking on doors often means carrying on conversations with people on their balconies. And even in historic tourist towns, a missionary has to look out for dogs.
The elders have some success: “We found some great people,” Elder Ward says. “There were some youth from Paraguay. They invited us back tomorrow.” And some failure: “We had a half-hour conversation with one man,” Elder Triplet says. “It was like talking to a wall.”
7:45 p.m. Two buses later the elders make it to the activity they had planned with the sister missionaries who work in the same city, Sister Kathleen Bonifay and Sister Brittany Hofman.
The people they were expecting to come didn’t. “That’s the way it goes sometimes,” Elder Ward says. But after a little footwork, the missionaries are able to gather a handful of other investigators living nearby. After a hymn and a video, you can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost as the missionaries bear testimony of the Book of Mormon as another witness of Jesus Christ. The activity is a success.
“The Lord takes care of you when you put forth your best planning and best effort,” says Sister Bonifay.
9:13 p.m. After a hike to the bus stop, the elders and sisters have made it back to their respective apartments, where they’ll call their leaders, review the day and their long-range plans, and make plans for the next day.
“Well, this is what we do,” Elder Ward tells you. “It doesn’t change much.”
Elder Triplet laughs. “We are the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.”
Things didn’t go exactly as the elders had planned, but the day went well anyway. They made some good contacts, pulled off a powerful activity, bore testimony of Christ, and did their best to follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
“I’ve heard people say these are the best two years of their lives,” Elder Triplet says. “The two years are great, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re the best 730 days of my life. There are some days I thought would never end. But I have loved being a missionary.”
Elder Ward agrees. He has mixed emotions about leaving. “I always thought I’d be excited to go home,” he says. “But I see life differently now. I love my life. I’m a missionary. I’m speaking to people about Christ every day. Leaving will be bittersweet.”
You’ve enjoyed getting a taste of missionary work as well. As exciting as it is, missionary work can be exhausting. Now it’s time to get some rest and prepare yourself for your day as a missionary. It has a way of coming faster than you think.
Preach My Gospel is a part of every missionary’s day. You can get a copy at a distribution center or at www.ldscatalog.com.

Several years ago just before Christmas, my niece, Shelly, grabbed her mom’s hand and, without explanation, led her into the privacy of the laundry room. “Mom,” she asked in a serious whisper, “is it okay if I believe just one more year?”
Since that memorable happening, our family has established a family tradition. Each Christmas Eve, we gather together around the tree. With the lights low and the fire burning in the fireplace, we ask the question once again, the most important question of the year, “Is it okay if we believe one more year?”—not only believe in the traditions of childhood with Santa Claus and reindeer, but more importantly in the message of the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, whose birthday we are celebrating. Do we believe in his mission, his atonement, his resurrection? Do we believe in his invitation to come and follow him?
Of course we are not really committing ourselves for only a year. We are pledged to follow the Savior forever. But we live life a day, a week, a month, a year at a time, and Christmas is a season to focus on the year ahead and reconfirm our discipleship.
After a declaration of belief by one and all, the following question is sometimes harder: When we believe, how will that affect how we live, how we feel, what we will do and what we will not do? We then commit to strive to live as we believe and to help each other all year long.
Next, someone reads aloud The Polar Express by Chris Von Allsburg. In the story, a young boy says, “I shook the bell. It made the most beautiful sound my sister and I had ever heard, but my mother said, ‘Oh, that’s too bad.’ ‘Yes,’ said my father, ‘it’s broken.’ My parents had not heard a sound,” the story continues. “At one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed it fell silent for all of them. Though I have grown old, the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”
Following the story, we each receive a small new bell on a red satin ribbon to wear around our necks during the holidays. We listen for its clear sound as a testimony and commitment that we truly believe and will strive to live as we believe. While the fire burns low, we then read the glorious account of the Christmas story recorded by Luke, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). And we believe.

“I think you have plenty of petals,” Mom said to Autumn as she carefully placed another handful of pretty pink and white rose petals into Autumn’s basket.
Autumn frowned. “Just a few more,” she said, picking up some red ones.
The rose bushes that lined the sidewalk near Autumn’s house dropped what seemed like thousands of petals on the ground every spring. The neighbor who owned the bushes told Autumn she could collect all the petals she wanted. And Autumn wanted lots of them!
Autumn loved to dress up like a bride and act out pretend weddings. Sometimes she asked her sister to play the wedding song on the piano as she walked down the aisle, and sometimes she convinced a friend to be the pretend groom. And Autumn loved to scatter rose petals on the ground, just like flower girls did for brides in the movies.
One day, Mom told Autumn that her favorite cousin, Angie, was getting married in a few months. She had asked Autumn to be her flower girl! “That means I can walk down the aisle in a real wedding with a real bride and groom!” Autumn exclaimed. “I know just what to do. I’ll carry a little basket with rose petals, and I will wear a beautiful dress, and—”
“Well, not quite,” Mom said. “You will be wearing a beautiful dress, but Angie is getting married in the temple, so she will not walk down an aisle.”
“Will I still throw rose petals at the wedding?” Autumn asked. Now she felt worried.
“No, honey,” Mom said. “Only people who have made special covenants with Heavenly Father can go inside the temple to see a wedding. But you can wait in a special room at the temple, and when Angie and Noah come out, you will be one of the first to see how happy they look. Then they will want to take lots of pictures with you, and they might need your help at the reception that night.”
“But Mom, won’t Angie be sad not to walk down the aisle?” Autumn asked. “That’s the best part of a wedding.”
Mom pulled Autumn close. “No, Angie won’t be sad,” she said. “And I think you know why. What do you remember about the temple?”
“When you get married in the temple, you can be together forever,” Autumn said.
“Right,” said Mom. “For time and all eternity. That means that Angie and Noah will be married forever if they obey the commandments. That’s the best part—and it makes them very happy.”
Autumn believed Mom. But deep inside, she still wished that Angie could walk down the aisle and that she could carry her little basket of rose petals.
On Angie’s wedding day, Autumn wore a pretty new dress and had pink flowers in her hair. At the temple, Autumn waited in a room with her cousins while Mom and Dad went inside to watch Angie and Noah get married. When Mom and Dad came out, they walked with Autumn around the temple grounds, and she saw flowers even prettier than the roses at home.
Soon Autumn saw the temple door open, and Noah and Angie walked out with radiant smiles. They looked so happy! It made Autumn feel warm and light inside.
As Angie and Noah walked around the temple grounds holding hands, Autumn knew they had made the right choice to be married in the temple, even though it meant that Autumn did not get to scatter rose petals like she had seen in the movies.
Mom noticed Autumn looking at Angie and squeezed her hand. Autumn smiled back. “I’m glad I got to see Angie and Noah come out of the temple,” she said, looking up at the beautiful white building. “It was much better than petals.”

Cesar Aedo is a mime, rapidly becoming well-known in Europe. A former pupil of French master Marcel Marceau, he has performed publicly and on television in Germany, France, and Switzerland, as well as in several countries of South and Central America. In May of 1984, he made his American debut. Now he has signed a contract with one of western Europe’s top circuses, Circus KNIE.
On and offstage, he seems energetic, spontaneous, intense. It becomes apparent in hearing him talk of his background that the intensity he puts into performing is typical of the commitment he has put into all the other things he considers worthwhile in life.
Brother Aedo is a returned missionary, a native of Lima, Peru. It was a struggle for his father, a tailor, to provide basic necessities for his large family. But young Cesar was very eager to obtain an education, and to obey the prophet’s counsel that he should go on a mission. He knew it would require his own effort to enjoy these blessings. So—as the story was told in a 1982 Primary manual—he worked washing and polishing cars near his school to pay for his own schooling and, afterward, for the mission. The mission meant so much to him that he would not allow a bout with appendicitis to keep him down for long. Five days after surgery, he was back teaching and tracting. “I have work to do. I am a missionary,” he explained matter-of-factly.
After his mission, he studied sociology at Villareal University in Lima. But his first love was the performing arts, so he studied those too. In fact, his study of performing had begun much earlier, at age six. He faithfully attended religious instruction classes in the church to which he then belonged because afterward there were old movies for the youngsters, and he was enthralled by the silent film comedy of Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Harold Lloyd. Cesar was nine when missionaries brought the gospel to his family. By eleven, he was performing in his LDS branch’s talent shows.
After studying at Villareal University, Brother Aedo wanted to go to Europe for more advanced schooling in political science. He worked his way through several South and Central American countries performing as a mime until he had saved enough money to fly to Europe. “I went to Europe on my talent, nothing more,” he recalls.
A series of events he considers providential prevented him from enrolling immediately. He spent several weeks in late 1979 and early 1980 visiting with his sister in Geneva, Switzerland—long enough to determine that instead of political science he wanted to study mime with the man who is widely recognized as the master. Brother Aedo knew that through his faith it would happen, if he persevered. So he returned to Paris and was persistent enough that he was finally able to see Marcel Marceau and become one of his pupils.
He spent three years studying with Monsieur Marceau—not only the art of mime, but also dramatic art, classical and modern dance, acrobatics, and fencing. He was one of the few pupils able to earn his tuition and expenses through weekend performances and summer touring. Now he is studying with the man who taught the master, Monsieur Marceau’s eighty-six-year-old mentor, Etienne Decroux. He is also continuing his study of classical dance.

Members of my seminary class often share missionary experiences. But one time, two months had gone by since anyone shared, so I thought it was time to make a move. I prayed to Heavenly Father, saying that if He would let me have a missionary experience that day at school, I’d do everything in my power to teach others as much about the gospel as I possibly could. The first question came from my locker partner and close friend, Tabitha.
“Are Mormons Christians?” she asked.
“Of course I’m a Christian!” I cheerfully responded, “I believe in Jesus. Did you know that the actual name of my church is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?” Then we talked a little more.
Throughout the day it seemed like people flooded me with questions.
The next day, as I related my stories to my seminary class, I knew that I’d have missionary moments as long as I desired them.

The first, Brent, grew up attending church and hearing daily sermonettes in his home on gospel subjects. In spite of this, he was deeply unhappy. He felt that he was fenced in by commandments and restrictions, supposedly imposed by God to dictate what he should not do, what he was forbidden to enjoy, and even what he must not think. Only a motivation to succeed, to have status in others’ eyes, kept him going in the Church. But “doing the right thing for the wrong reasons” brought him no happiness. He didn’t feel free.
He therefore began to seek happiness outside the Church. He discovered the “new morality” and became convinced that any suppression of or restriction upon his physical urges was wrong, that every commandment was a curse on life, that subscribing to religious and moral prescriptions was a way of hating one’s own body and the desires that affect it.
Tragically, supposing that all Church members obeyed the commandments for the same reasons he once did—out of selfishness or fear—he called them hypocritical and unloving. He told me that abandoning himself in total response to every physical desire was bringing him the first happiness he had ever known. Yet, even as he told me this, it was clear that his first exciting taste of what appeared to him to be freedom would turn bitter on his tongue. And I have learned since that, though it provided a momentary titillation of his senses, it is bringing him no peace. On the contrary, though he has tried to escape the guilt of disobeying the commandments by pretending that they are foolishness, that guilt is returning now to haunt him as never before.
What happened to Brent? Why did he leave the Church in order to find love, honesty, freedom, and happiness, the very blessings that others find in the Church? I think the answer is this: Even though Brent heard constant sermonizing in church and at home, he apparently never experienced much of the Spirit of God or tasted the joys of the gospel. Though bludgeoned all his life with words, he hadn’t felt the love and warmth that are fruits of the gospel. The words were merely meant to describe it. The words without the experiences were meaningless. Hence, when finally he encountered a way of life that promised to remove the restrictions that had condemned him and that he hoped would sweep away his guilt, his life in the Church seemed like a dingy black-and-white movie—the lamp of the projector being nearly burnt out—when compared with the technicolor of this alluring new way of life. The only version of the gospel he could compare to the luridly colorful worldliness that enticed him was pale and meaningless. Given these alternatives, how else could he have chosen?
Brent had never really tasted of the gospel; he had only heard descriptions of it. A man can learn all there is to know about water, that it is composed of molecules made up of two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen bonded together by a certain kind of chemical bond, and so on; but no matter how much he knows about it, unless he drinks of it he will die. So with Brent: he has never tasted the waters of life. And now he is headed on a collision course toward certain disaster, tragically, not knowing that he is.

Elsie and Edwin Dharmaraju joined the Church in Samoa and were called by President Spencer W. Kimball to return back to their home in Hyderabad as missionaries to their family. In 1978, 22 of Elsie and Edwin’s family members were baptized, and from this beginning the first stake in the country was organized in Hyderabad in 2012.6

They also listened to John Santosh Murala, then serving in the mission presidency, talk about how his aunt Elsie and uncle Edwin Dharmaraju came to Hyderabad to teach their family the gospel. John was the youngest of the 22 pioneer members to be baptized in 1978.

It was a windy day in Mongolia. Nine-year-old Batbayar was walking home from the bus stop after school. He hugged his coat tighter in the wind. Luckily, it wasn’t far to his grandparents’ house, where he lived.
“Hi!” Batbayar said as he came inside.
“Welcome home,” Grandma said. “I made some khuushuur for a snack.”
“Thank you!” Batbayar reached for one of the warm, spicy meat pies.
“Wait! Don’t eat any until the missionaries get here,” Grandpa said. “They’ll be coming any minute.”
Batbayar loved it when the missionaries from Grandma and Grandpa’s church came to visit. He always learned a lot from them. But there was just one problem.
“Will they ask me to read from the Book of Mormon again?” Batbayar asked. “Reading is hard for me.”
“That’s why they’re bringing another book today,” Grandma said.
“What book?” Batbayar said.
“You’ll see,” Grandpa said.
Soon the missionaries arrived. They ate Grandma’s delicious meat pies together. Then Batbayar said, “Grandma says you brought me a book.”
“I think you’ll like this book,” Sister Heitz said. “It has lots of pictures.”
Batbayar looked at the cover. Book of Mormon Stories, it said. A picture on the cover showed people building a boat.
“I remember that story,” Batbayar said. “The man didn’t know how to build a boat. So he prayed. And God helped him.”
“That’s right,” Sister Enkhtuya said. “Will you try reading this book? Then you can pray to know that what it teaches is true.”
“I will,” Batbayar promised.
That night he read from the book with pictures. He read the story about the boat. Then he prayed. He fell asleep thinking about the man who built the boat and how God helped him.
From then on, each night Batbayar read a story. Then he prayed. And each night, he fell asleep thinking about what he read.
When the sister missionaries came again, they taught Batbayar more about Jesus Christ. Batbayar learned about prophets. He learned about God’s commandments. He kept going to church with Grandma and Grandpa. And he kept reading and praying.
One day Batbayar had something important to tell his grandparents. “When I read the stories in the book with pictures, my heart feels good,” he said. “When I pray, I feel they are true. I think I should be baptized.”
Today, Batbayar is a member of the Church. He has gotten better and better at reading. And he still reads the Book of Mormon every night!

Along with my unclean language came other bad habits and bad crowds. And when I finally decided to clean up my language, I was engulfed in other sins I needed to clear up. But this time I had decided to quit for the right reasons. Because I wanted to repent. I wanted to be clean in God’s sight, and not just to act ladylike.
This was no short process. And it was hard—hard to regain control of my life and rebuild my testimony. Speech might seem like a small thing when there are so many other worse things we could be doing. My first offense seemed so innocent at the time. I realize now that the world tries to make sins—regardless of their size—look insignificant, but any sin offends the Spirit. And when the Spirit wasn’t with me, I wasn’t under God’s influence and I grew farther from Him.
Putting my decision into action brought the Spirit back into my life. I could again feel the Lord’s guiding influence, and He helped me with all the other problems in my life when I was sincerely trying.

“Son, don’t do this,” his parents said. “You’re throwing your life away.”
Those aren’t the words most missionaries expect to hear—right at the airport—just as they are leaving to report to the missionary training center (MTC).
Elder Morris, from New Zealand, knows how much his parents love him. They’ve been there for him through thick and thin. They cheered him on in his rugby matches. They applauded his decision to attend law school. They raised him with love and with hope that he’d have a bright life ahead of him.
Their pleading words came from a place of love. To them, the idea of their precious son serving a two-year mission for his new faith seemed not only confusing, but also a threat to the goals he’d worked so hard to achieve.
You see, Elder Morris was a gifted athlete on his way to becoming a professional rugby player. In his schooling, things were just taking off in his legal career.
Oh, and he was thinking about getting married!
Elder Morris already had this conversation with them many times before. He responded in the only way he knew how. “I told them I loved them. I embraced them. And I shared my testimony that I knew this was what I needed to do.”
Then he bid them farewell and hopped on the airplane for the MTC in Provo, Utah, USA, to prepare for his mission to the Philippines.
At which point COVID-19 showed up and turned the world upside down.
COVID-19 had already been making headlines throughout the globe for weeks before Elder Morris showed up at the MTC. In fact, his group would be the last batch of missionaries to report to the MTC for another 16 months. Groups after him were told to stay home and wait for further instructions.
To say that things were uncertain at the MTC would be an understatement. “Many people were worried about what was going to happen,” Elder Morris says. “For me, I felt calm. I still didn’t know how things would unfold. I only knew that they would work out for the best.”
When the news came that Elder Morris would be reassigned to his home country of New Zealand, his reaction might not be what you’d expect.
He was more excited than ever!
“I realize that many missionaries hope to serve in a faraway place,” Elder Morris says. “For me, though, I always thought it would be a privilege to teach my own people in my own country. I wanted to share the gospel with New Zealand.”
“I always thought it would be a privilege to teach my own people in my own country.”
Little did he know how this would change his life—and the life of a woman who is very important to him.
Elder Morris’s grandmother (his nan) was dealing with some serious health challenges. “She was so unwell that she said she reached a point where she was ready to die. She didn’t feel she had anything left to live for.”
Before his mission, Elder Morris had a chance to start teaching the gospel to his nan. But now, he was a full-time missionary assigned to the very area where his nan lived.
“I love my nan very much,” Elder Morris says. “And I’ve seen the gospel absolutely transform her.”
His nan chose to be baptized and become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She’s the first member of Elder Morris’s direct family (besides himself) to join the Church.
Her life, Elder Morris says, is very different now. “When my nan found the gospel, she realized why she was still alive. Now she wants to live! Every morning she wakes up at 4 a.m. or 5 a.m. and sings hymns. She prays and reads her scriptures every single day. She does it because the gospel has blessed her with purpose.”
Time and time again, Elder Morris has seen the light that the gospel brings into the lives of those he teaches. He’s had the chance to teach other friends and family members. He’s seen firsthand how they improve. “The gospel of Jesus Christ gives us purpose,” Elder Morris says. “I feel so sorry for those who don’t have the gospel in their lives. They don’t know their true identity.”
On a related note, even his parents have begun to notice the changes in Elder Morris’s nan. They can now see that the gospel has blessed her life in many ways.
Elder Morris with his nan (grandmother).
Elder Morris has no doubts whatsoever that serving a mission was the right choice. He also knew at the start of his mission, when COVID-19 began to rage throughout the world, that God would still guide His work. “The work of man will be frustrated, but God’s work never will be,” he says.
Every time he has an opportunity to do so, he encourages youth to live worthy to serve a mission. For Elder Morris, no other decision would have had a greater impact on his future—especially his eternal future. “The biggest advice I would give to youth is to prepare to serve a mission. It will change your life.”
He recognizes that choosing to serve may come with sacrifice. But then again, he knows a thing or two about sacrifice, and the blessings that come from it.
Witnesses of Jesus Christ
Elder Morris: The gospel is simple, and the gospel is true. Jesus Christ is our Savior. He and our Heavenly Father are mindful of us. I testify that the Book of Mormon is amazing. It helps us to come closer to Jesus Christ and to learn the fulness of His gospel. The Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ through the Prophet Joseph Smith had to happen. Without it, we would still be lost today.
Elder Fotuaika (Elder Morris’s companion): I’ve seen in my life that, without the Lord, I’m nothing. With the Lord, I’ve seen myself grow to the best person that I could ever become. When we try to do the small and simple things like praying and reading the scriptures, God magnifies who we are. I have a testimony that God loves us.

One night in 1970 fifteen-year-old Dan Ecklund rang the doorbell of the mission home in Zurich, Switzerland. When President M. Elmer Christensen opened the door, Dan said he wanted to talk with someone who could tell him about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Dan and his family had been living in the Congo in Africa and were on their way back to the United States. For eighteen years his father and mother had been serving as Protestant missionaries in the Congo, where all seven of their children had been born. They had not been happy when Dan became interested in another church while on a vacation in South Africa and asked their permission to be baptized. However, Dan was so convinced that the new Church was true that finally his parents consented and Dan was baptized.
Since the mission president in Zurich had supervision over any members in the Congo, Dan had written to ask President Christensen to send him some books to study. He had persuaded his father to stop in Zurich on their way to the United States so he could ask President Christensen to explain some things he did not understand.
While the rest of the Ecklund family talked with Sister Christensen, Dan went into President Christensen’s office, where they sat down and quietly discussed some of his questions.
Before Dan stood up to leave, he opened his wallet and took out a five-dollar bill in American money. He said that since he had become a member of the Church, he had earned forty-five dollars. This meant he owed four dollars and fifty cents tithing. The boy wanted to make a fifty-cent donation with the rest of the money.
President Christensen explained about fast offerings, and Dan quickly agreed that this was a good place for his fifty cents to go. So the mission president wrote out a receipt and handed it to the boy, who read it thoughtfully and then placed it in his wallet.
With shining eyes, he left the mission office and joined the rest of his family. Dan felt that at last he was truly a member of the Church he had learned to love.

“Play some defense! Make your free throws! Run harder!”
The smell of sweat and the sound of whistles filled the high school gym. Basketball tryouts came around quickly that November.
I wanted to quit the team. The previous year our team had gone to the California State playoffs, but this season would be much different. I reluctantly ended up as the only senior on the varsity team and was asked to serve as team captain. It was okay at first, but after a while, losing got really old, really fast. I started having a major attitude, and it was reflected in the way I performed.
It wasn’t just about basketball though—I was struggling off the court as well. I hated the idea of having to stick to rules and schedules. Each day started with the dreaded five A.M. alarm clock, dark mornings in our broken-down Volvo, and early-morning seminary. Then it was off to school, with tons of hard classes and annoying people. Playing ball was not my first priority, when so many other things seemed to be weighing me down.
After a few months, I was trying to decide if I should just quit the basketball team. I talked to my dad about it. “Your attitude can change everything if you let it,” he said. I didn’t know what he meant at first. I wasn’t the one making us lose! Then I heard a talk in Young Women class that really hit home. It was about having a positive attitude and how it not only affects your situation but also others around you.
From that point on, I decided to change the way I was looking at things both in and out of basketball. I started to go to Mutual again and tried to support other youth activities, and I prayed that I could be more optimistic in seminary and school.
Most importantly, I realized I could learn from trials and become better through them. Instead of complaining about losing, I started working harder at practice. Soon others noticed, and it helped the whole team become more unified because everyone saw that I was continuing to try even though we were still not winning.
Our basketball team didn’t win a single game that year, but it turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life. With a change in attitude, both on and off the court, I learned to be a more positive person in dealing with difficult things. I did not miraculously make our team better, but a change in my attitude really affected the younger players around me. The season was successful because of the friendships we formed and the way we were still able to have fun when most people would have given up.

Following is a true account of a middle-aged businessman who very keenly felt the Comforter enticing him to do good.

Brother Johnson (the name is fictitious) had been plagued with an enslaving smoking habit for two decades. He very much wanted to be active in the Church, but somehow this habit was a seemingly insurmountable barrier between him, the Lord, and Church activity.

One windy, wintry day at work, disgusted with his inability to refrain from smoking one cigarette after another, he felt a subtle spiritual prompting which made him leave his work and tell his employees he’d be gone for the rest of the day. Despite the chilling weather and the deep, new-fallen snow, he hiked into a secluded mountain canyon. Intent on seeking the Lord in private circumstances so he might pray fervently aloud, he hiked until the snow was hip-deep and he could walk no farther.

Then and there he approached the Lord with great humility. He pleaded with the Lord to strengthen him so that he might be free from the insidious power that nicotine held over him. After mighty prayer, he arose a new man.

The chains were broken. And as he followed the Lord’s admonition in John 8:32, six months later he was called to be the bishop of his ward. He served faithfully and well.