Gospel Story Finder

The idea of spending all day, every day talking to people you don’t know can be hard. Sam L. from California, USA, recalls: “For someone who doesn’t even like answering my door, the thought of knocking on a total stranger’s door to talk about the gospel seemed beyond the bounds of possibility.

“At a stake youth conference, we were asked to go out with missionaries and preach the gospel. Going with real missionaries? to real people? I was nervous, but then I remembered a scripture: ‘For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee’ (Isaiah 41:13). I prayed for that help, and although I was still my awkward self, I felt empowered through the Holy Ghost and even gave out two copies of the Book of Mormon.”

While riding the bus on a school field trip, I was sitting in front of a girl who kept making rude comments and jokes that made me feel uncomfortable. My teachers and other students told her to stop, but she kept going. I didn’t know what to do, so I decided to pull out my MP3 player and listen to some of my favorite music.
I turned it on shuffle and one of the first songs that came on was a song from youth.lds.org/music. I was about to skip over it when something inside told me that I should just listen to the music. I kept listening to inspirational music for the next 20 minutes. The lyrics encouraged me to hold on, and they reminded me that I was a beloved daughter of Heavenly Father.
I know that music can have a profound influence in our lives. I know that listening to the inspirational music on my MP3 player a couple days before had helped give me the courage I needed to leave the dance. These experiences helped me get much closer to my Heavenly Father.

The story is told of Ali Hafed, a wealthy ancient Persian who owned much land.
An old priest told him that if he had a diamond the size of his thumb, he could purchase a dozen farms. “If you will find a river that runs through white sands, between high mountains, in those white sands you will always find diamonds.”
Said Ali Hafed, “I will go.”
So he sold his farm and away he went in search of diamonds. After years of searching, he had spent all his money, and he passed away in rags and wretchedness.
Meanwhile, the man who purchased Ali Hafed’s farm one day led his camel out into the garden to drink, and as the animal put his nose into the shallow waters, the farmer noticed a curious flash of light in the white sands of the stream. Reaching in, he pulled out a black stone containing a strange eye of light. In the black stone was a diamond. According to the story, this marked the discovery of the most valuable diamond mines in the history of the ancient world.
Had Ali Hafed remained at home and dug in his own cellar or anywhere in his own fields, rather than traveling in strange lands where he eventually faced starvation and ruin, he would have had “acres of diamonds.”

When Fausto Torales of Paraguay received word that his brother was sick, he decided to visit him—even though it would require a long journey and much sacrifice. Without realizing it, Fausto was embarking on a journey that would require many more sacrifices and would forever change his life and the lives of his family.
There is no public transportation into Natalio Diez, the nearest town. So Fausto left his wife and children at their small farm and walked for over an hour to get there. Next he caught a bus and rode two more hours to the city of Encarnación, where he visited his ill brother. That night in a boardinghouse, he learned for the first time about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from two young men who lived there.
“We had studied various other religions and didn’t like them,” says his wife, Felicita Torales. “But my husband realized that this was very different from what he had heard before. He told the two young men that he would return in three months with all his family to be baptized.”
Filled with the spirit of the message he had heard, Fausto went back to his farm and shared the gospel with his family. Three months later, just as he had promised, Fausto, Felicita, and their children made the journey to Encarnación and went straight to the boardinghouse, ready for baptism. The missionaries taught them the discussions that day and gave them the Book of Mormon and Gospel Principles. The following day—12 May 1981—the parents and their five children who were old enough were baptized. Then they journeyed home and started studying the gospel.

Every year Dino Bear knew when it was time to get his winter bed ready. He took the quilt from the den shelf, put fresh clean sheets on his bed, and fluffed up the pillow. When Dino finished, his eyelids were usually heavy and he was ready for a good long sleep.
But this year Dino was wide awake. He didn’t even yawn! “I’ll be sleepy soon,” he said to himself. But days and weeks went by and winter finally came—yet Dino wasn’t one bit sleepy!
“I’ll put on my nightgown and nightcap and go to bed anyway,” he mumbled to himself. So Dino snuggled down under the quilt and shut his eyes. But his eyes wouldn’t stay shut. Soon they were wide open and staring at the ceiling.
“Maybe a spoonful of honey will help,” Dino decided. But after five spoonfuls of honey Dino was still wide awake.
Then Dino started counting sheep. He counted 100 sheep, 200 sheep, 300 sheep—but he wasn’t sleepy.
Before long Dino’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry!” he moaned. “But the honey’s all gone and the cupboard is bare!”
“I must go out into the winter world and look for food,” Dino decided. Outside it was snowing hard. Dino knew all about autumn snow, but this blowing, stinging winter snow made it hard for him to see. The snow made his tracks disappear like magic and hid familiar trees and streams!
“There’s no food,” Dino complained. Then he suddenly saw something move. Dino ran and stumbled toward it. And there was Arnie Beaver!
“What are you doing?” Dino called out as he saw Arnie gnawing at a pine tree.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Arnie grumbled.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask,” Dino answered politely.
Arnie wiped his eyes, squinted, and shouted, “Dino Bear! You’re supposed to be sleeping!”
“I can’t sleep,” Dino complained.
“I’ve never heard of a bear with insomnia!” Arnie declared.
“Well, now you know one,” Dino replied. “I can’t sleep.”
Arnie gave Dino some pine needles. “You must be hungry.”
“I am, and thank you!” Dino answered. He wished the pine needles were berries, but he was so hungry that he ate them anyway.
Arnie began to clack his razor sharp teeth. He was ready for work on the pine tree again. “Come to my house later, Dino,” Arnie invited the sleepless bear. “Maybe I can help your insomnia.”
Dino walked off to look for more food. Soon he saw something move, and there was Dora Deer!
Dino ran and stumbled. Soon he was close enough to see that Dora was stringing red berries! “Why are you doing that?” Dino shouted.
Dora wiped her eyes, took one look at Dino, and exclaimed, “Dino Bear! You’re supposed to be sleeping!”
“I just can’t sleep!” Dino grumbled.
“A bear with insomnia?” Dora asked sharply. But then she smiled and gave Dino some of the red berries she was stringing. He gobbled them all up in one mouthful.
Dora laughed and said, “Why don’t you come to Arnie Beaver’s house later? Maybe we can help your insomnia!” Then she began to string red berries again; so Dino walked off to look for more food.
When the light began to grow dim, Dino started for Arnie’s house. Even before he reached the door, Dino heard laughing and singing. When he finally stepped inside, his black eyes opened wide! The pine tree Arnie had gnawed down stood in the center of the room. The red berries Dora had strung were wound in and out of the pine tree’s green boughs. And a big pine cone sat on the top!
“Merry Christmas!” Dora called out.
“Merry Christmas!” Arnie cried, thumping Dino’s furry back.
Merry Christmas? Dino thought. This winter world is very strange!
Dora gave Dino a big bowlful of berries and honey.
Arnie gave him a cup of warm mountain goat’s milk. “It’s good for your insomnia,” Arnie explained.
Dino ate the berries and honey, and he drank the warm goat’s milk. Then he sat and looked at the beautiful tree and listened to Dora and Arnie sing some songs.
“What are you singing?” Dino asked, wishing his eyelids weren’t so heavy.
“Christmas carols!” Dora and Arnie said happily together.
“This—this Christmas is so—so good,” Dino said, “so—so. …”
But Dino never finished what he started to say, for he was sound asleep!

In the summer of 1994 I took a break from school in Taipei, Taiwan, to return to my hometown of Miao-li to spend my vacation. While home I took a job at a floral shop. My heart is full of gratitude when I recall what followed.
As I was watering plants one day, a man in a motorized wheelchair stopped by to look at the flowers. He bashfully declined my invitation to come inside the store, but something about him left a deep impression on my mind. Afterward I ran into him several times on the street, and we would exchange a nod and a friendly smile.
One hot day as I was sitting in a restaurant enjoying a bowl of shaved ice, someone patted me on the shoulder. It was the man in the wheelchair. He was dressed up nicely and had a big smile on his face. He bravely asked for my name and phone number and left.
A few days later, he called to invite me to attend a Church dinner. Encouraged by a friend, I hesitantly went. The dinner was delicious, and the reception the members gave me made me feel welcome from the moment I entered. Later that evening another Church member asked for my address and phone number in Taipei and sent my information to the missionaries there. Thus began my eternal tie with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I was baptized and confirmed in the fall of 1994 and served a full-time mission in 1997. Two years after I returned home, I married a returned missionary, and we began our family.
All of these blessings came to pass because a member of the Church had the courage to ask a question. At the time, he was a total stranger, but eventually he helped lead me to the Savior’s gospel. He reminds me of a scripture I came to know in the Book of Mormon: “I have none other object save it be the everlasting welfare of your souls” (2 Nephi 2:30).

“Run, Jillian, run!” Dad shouted. Jillian’s dad was the coach of her football team. They were practicing extra hard to get ready for the championship game. The sun was hot, but Jillian kept running.

At last Dad blew the whistle. “OK, let’s have a break.”

Jillian grabbed her water bottle and sat on the bench with the boys. She was the only girl on the team, but she didn’t mind. They all worked together and helped each other get better. Even though she was tired and sweaty, she felt happy to play with her team.

“Dad, how did we do today?” she asked.

Dad smiled. “Great! I think the team is ready for the game.”

Jillian smiled back. All their hard work was worth it!

A few days later it was finally time for the big football game. Jillian asked the team to say a prayer before the game. Then it was time to play. Jillian ran as fast as she could. She worked with her team to get the ball and score goals. Her team won the game!

That night as she lay in bed, Jillian thought about Mei and her football team. She was happy to be part of a team, just like she was happy to be part of Primary. They all helped each other. Jillian was glad she could help her friends, whether it was at church or on the field.

Andrei and Valentina Dudka of the Vynohradars’kyi Ward were introduced to the gospel by neighbors in 2003. After meeting for several weeks with missionaries, the couple decided to join the Church.
Although the Dudkas were excited to learn gospel truths such as the need for latter-day temples and the potential of having an eternal family, they gradually slipped into inactivity. “We just found reasons not to go to church,” Sister Dudka says. “We let things come up—like we were just too tired or there was a show on TV we wanted to watch.”
The Dudkas’ lack of activity adversely affected their happiness. “We started to see a real difference between Church life and worldly life after we left the Church,” Brother Dudka says. “We weren’t happy.”
After about four months of not attending church, Sister Dudka reached her breaking point. “A certain Sunday came, and I said, ‘If I don’t go today, I might not survive,’” she says. “I was like a person who had gone days without water. I needed that water.”
After returning to activity, Sister Dudka patiently prayed for and encouraged her husband to come back to church with her. About half a year after she returned to church, so did her husband.
“My wife’s prayers affected me,” Brother Dudka says. “I realized that as a Melchizedek Priesthood holder, I had the responsibility to be an active member. I recognized that without God, I could not do anything.”
After the Dudkas returned to the Church, their thoughts returned to the saving ordinances of the temple. The couple joined with other Ukrainian Latter-day Saints in rejoicing in the temple groundbreaking in 2007.
“After they started building the temple, we would often come by and just look at the work being done,” Brother Dudka says.
“I jumped so high when I saw them lay the first stone,” Sister Dudka adds.
When the angel Moroni figure was placed on top of the temple, there was a lot of hugging and tears among the Saints and particularly among the Dudkas.
“When they finally finished building the temple, there was such relief that we knew we were worthy to enter,” Brother Dudka says.
The Dudkas say being sealed in the temple has built in them a stronger eternal perspective on life. “You understand that your family is no longer just you and your husband—now the Lord is part of it too,” Sister Dudka says. “We now look at each other with eternal eyes.”

It was also a time of spiritual tempering. When Lucy had been given up to die from consumption, she covenanted to serve God all her days and to seek “the religion that would enable [her] to serve him right,” even if “obtained from heaven by prayer and faith.” She was healed and faithfully sought that religion for the next two decades, not yet understanding that her own son would introduce her to it. “For days and months and years,” without ceasing, she “continued asking God … to reveal … the hidden treasures of his will.” Joseph Sr.’s mistrust of organized religion did not let him share her quest among the churches she had access to, but it did not become a source of contention between them. Rather, she prayed sincerely for consolation and was comforted by a dream that assured her Joseph Sr. would accept the truth when it was presented to him.

I had already had the opportunity to index, but I admit it was not my favorite part of the work of family history. So, it was done a little here and a little there, especially during challenges. However, this year, because of all of you and the Lord, I felt a strength, and a motivation that allowed me to index beyond what I thought I could. I felt close to these people; I was participating in something marvelous. The spirit of Elijah was present. I sometimes saw the correct names materialize before my eyes. Indexing has taken on a spiritual dimension for me. I will continue to do it. The work must be done on both sides of the veil. So, yes, thank you, thank you to the Lord and to each of you for your encouragement, your help, and your love.

Some months after my baptism I was called to serve in the nursery and then as a Primary teacher. A year later I received my endowment. I also met a great man at church. In September 1994 we were sealed in the Toronto Canada Temple. Three years later we were blessed with a beautiful son.
I continue to serve in Church callings, and I share my testimony of the gospel with all my loved ones. I know that the gospel of Jesus Christ comes from the heavens in all its glory and that through this gospel we can be transformed if we are obedient to the Lord’s commandments.

“When I was 12,” says Loukia, “I went to church for the first time and was so happy, but then I realized that I was the only one my age. Now, two years later, we have so many young women that for the first time we were able to have Young Women Camp.” As they met together, she says, “I realized what it means to be a Latter-day Saint. When we live the gospel, a light surrounds us.”
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“Loukia C., 15, bore her testimony for the first time at Young Women camp and was later baptized.”

Maggie loved things that matched. She wore her dark hair in two matching braids almost every day. Her purple backpack matched her purple notebook perfectly. And she carefully sorted her food into matching colors at lunchtime.
One day after lunch, Maggie walked out to the playground. She was about to join her friends when she saw someone sitting alone by the slide. It was a girl with long blonde hair.
Maggie sat down next to the girl. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Anna,” the girl whispered. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.
“No one will play with me,” Anna said, looking up sadly at Maggie.
Then Maggie saw that Anna had pretty green eyes. Maggie knew another girl who also had green eyes and blonde hair. The two girls would match perfectly!
“I know someone who can play with you!” Maggie told Anna.
“You do?” Anna asked with a hopeful smile.
“Yes! Sarah from my class.” Maggie pointed to a girl jumping rope. “See her over there? She would probably play with you.”
“Oh,” Anna said. Her face melted back into a frown.
Maggie didn’t know what to do next. “Well, I’ll see you later,” she said, standing up and walking over to her friends.
But Maggie couldn’t forget Anna’s sad eyes. That night at dinner, she told her family about what happened.
“She needed someone to play with?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” Maggie said, “but she wouldn’t go ask Sarah to play, even though they both have blonde hair and green eyes.”
Dad looked over at Maggie. “Why didn’t you play with Anna?”
Maggie’s mouth fell open. “Because—because—Sarah and the girl matched!”
“Hmm,” Mom said as she wiped the baby’s face. “Do you remember what Jesus says about how we should treat other people?”
“We should love them?” Maggie said. Mom smiled and nodded.
“It doesn’t matter whether our body looks the same as someone else’s,” Dad said. “It doesn’t even really matter if they think the same way we do, or believe in the same things. The most important thing is that our actions match what Jesus taught.”
Maggie felt a warm tingling in her body, and she knew that Dad was right. “I’ll remember that,” she said.
The next day at recess, Maggie looked for Anna. She found her sitting alone by the sandbox.
“Hi,” Maggie said.
“Hello,” Anna said quietly.
“Do you want to come play with my friends and me?”
Now Anna looked up! Her green eyes sparkled brightly as a smile spread across her face.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really!” Maggie said, helping Anna stand.
This feels like a perfect match, Maggie thought as the two ran off to play.

Suddenly he remembered a cold winter evening not long after he’d received his sight. He and his father had been trapped in a mountain snowstorm. They could not see the road. Their oxen were frightened and did not know the way home.
“Son,” his father had said, “we have done all we can to find our way. Now we must ask the Lord for help.”
They then knelt in the snow and prayed. Afterward, they steered the oxen in the direction they thought was right, and the animals, without hesitation, led them home.

Sister Jodi King wrote of her own experience of past years:
“I never felt like I didn’t belong at church until my husband, Cameron, and I began struggling with infertility. The children and families who had typically brought me joy to see at church now started causing me grief and pain.
“I felt barren without a child in my arms or a diaper bag in hand. …
“The hardest Sunday was our first one in a new ward. Because we didn’t have kids, we were asked if we were newlyweds and when we planned on starting a family. I had gotten pretty good at answering these questions without letting them affect me—I knew they weren’t meant to be hurtful.
“However, on this particular Sunday, answering those questions was especially hard. We had just found out, after being hopeful, that we were—yet again—not pregnant.
“I walked into sacrament meeting feeling downtrodden, and answering those typical ‘get to know you’ questions was hard for me. …
“But it was Sunday School that truly broke my heart. The lesson—intended to be about the divine role of mothers—quickly shifted gears and became a vent[ing] session. My heart sank and tears silently flowed down my cheeks as I heard women complain about a blessing I would give anything for.
“I bolted out of church. At first, I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to experience that feeling of isolation again. But that night, after talking with my husband, we knew we would keep attending church not only because the Lord has asked us to but also because we both knew that the joy that comes from renewing covenants and feeling the Spirit at church surpasses the sadness I felt that day. …
“In the Church, there are widowed, divorced, and single members; those with family members who have fallen away from the gospel; people with chronic illnesses or financial struggles; members who experience same-sex attraction; members working to overcome addictions or doubts; recent converts; new move-ins; empty-nesters; and the list goes on and on. …
“The Savior invites us to come unto Him—no matter our circumstances. We come to church to renew our covenants, to increase our faith, to find peace, and to do as He did perfectly in His life—minister to others who feel like they don’t belong.”

Fortunately, like many of you, I came from a home where that kind of influence was available. Near my eighteenth birthday I was drafted into World War II. I found myself in an entirely new environment. I had always been taught in my home to take time out at night to pray, but I found this a little delicate, where in a typical barrack, there would be over fifty men on a floor. I used to try to get a bunk near the end of the room, where there would be a little privacy, and I would wait until the lights would go out before I would crawl out of bed to say my prayers.
I remember at Fort MacArthur everything went well for the first few nights and then finally one night, shortly after the lights went out, I crawled out of bed and knelt down to pray. About that time two half-stewed characters came in, flipped on the lights, and aroused all of us. A couple of fellows across the aisle from me saw me on my knees. Typical of that kind of environment, they started to poke fun. One of them, pointing to me, shouted so all could hear, “Hey, holy Paul, pray for me!” I felt a little chagrined and somewhat embarrassed and I thought to myself, “Now, what do you do?”
My mother had taught me a great principle. She used to say: “In delicate situations, use a sense of humor. It always helps.” So while still on my knees, I squared my shoulders, looked at both of the soldiers, and said: “Would you give me your full names because I don’t think the Lord knows you.” Later, I’m pleased to say, they did come to know the Lord because they too took time-out.

President David O. McKay once quoted Abraham Lincoln as saying, “All that I am or hope to be I owe to my angel mother.” These words well explain my feelings about my own mother. Viola Jean Goates Snow—Jeanie to all who knew her—was born in 1929 and died shortly after her 60th birthday in 1989. She taught me and encouraged me. She truly convinced me I could accomplish anything I wanted. She also disciplined me. As my own sons say of their mother, “She was the travel agent for guilt trips.” Mom was a wonderful mother, a great role model, and scarcely a day passes I do not think of her and miss her.
A few years before she passed away, she was diagnosed with cancer, a disease she fought with great courage. As a family we learned, strangely enough, that cancer is a disease of love. It provides opportunities to mend fences, say goodbyes, and express love. A few weeks before my mother’s death, we were visiting in the family room of my boyhood home. Mom had fine taste and liked nice things. She also longed to travel, but our family lived on a modest budget, and these dreams were not quite realized. Knowing this, I asked her if she had any regrets. I fully expected to hear she had always wanted a larger, more beautiful home or perhaps an expression of sadness and disappointment over never having traveled. She pondered my question for a few moments and replied simply, “I wish I had served more.”
I was shocked at her response. My mother had always accepted Church callings. She served as ward Relief Society president, Sunday School teacher, visiting teacher, and in the Primary. As children we were always delivering casseroles, jam, and bottled fruit to neighbors and members of the ward. When I reminded her of all this, she was undeterred. “I could have done more” was all she said. My mother had lived an exemplary and full life. She was loved by family and friends. She had accomplished much in a life that was often hard and which was cut short by disease and sickness. In spite of all of this, her greatest regret was she had not given enough service. Now, I have no doubt my mother’s earthly sacrifice has been accepted by the Lord and that she has been welcomed by Him. But why was it foremost in her mind just days before her passing? What is service, and why is it so important in the gospel of Jesus Christ?

Part of the tragedy you must avoid is to discover too late that you missed an opportunity to prepare for a future only God could see for you. The chance to learn another language is for me a painful example. My father was born in Mexico. He grew up speaking Spanish as his first language. I lived in his home for more than 20 years. Sadly, I never asked him to teach me a word of Spanish. But my Church assignments have caused me to have contacts in Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela, and Ecuador. It was no accident that I was born into a home with a Spanish-speaking father. My father was a great teacher. He was a chemist. He even kept a blackboard in our basement for his children. He was eager to teach me mathematics. He spent hours trying to help me solve problems for my physics classes. He pled with me to think more often about those things that then seemed so uninteresting and unimportant. Years later I was called by the Lord to the Presiding Bishopric of the Church and given responsibilities for computing and communications systems. What a blessing I might have had if I had followed with my father the counsel I am giving to you now. Your life is carefully watched over, as was mine. The Lord knows both what He will need you to do and what you will need to know to do it. You can with confidence expect that He has prepared opportunities for you to learn. You will not recognize those opportunities perfectly, as I did not. But when you put the spiritual things first in your life, you will be blessed to feel directed toward certain learning, and you will be motivated to work harder. You will recognize later that your power to serve was increased, and you will be grateful. Your service may not be in what the world would recognize as a lofty calling. But remember that when the real value of service becomes clear in the judgment of God, some people who worked in quiet anonymity will be the real heroes.

“You’re crazy,” my weight lifting buddies told me when they heard I would soon be leaving our sport for two years to serve a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“You’ve been the Idaho state power-lifting champ in your class for the past four years, you’ve just won the Teenage National power-lifting title for the second time, and now Boise State wants to interview you for a position as their strength coach. You’re leaving all that behind to go out and preach? You’re crazy!” they said again, shaking their heads.
Crazy? I hoped not. I did worry a little about how much my competitors would progress while I was away, and I knew that I would lose some lifting ability, but I also knew that I had put a lot of time into training, and hoped that it all wouldn’t just disappear.
I found some comfort in Matthew 16:24–26, [Matt. 16:24–26] which taught me I should deny myself and follow the Savior, that it would profit me nothing if I gained the whole world but lost my own soul.
Besides, going on a mission was something I’d decided on a long time ago. Ever since I was little, the conversations around the dinner table involved comments like “When I go on my mission … ,” not “If I go on a mission …”
So off I went, to Seoul, Korea. I made the decision not to worry about weight lifting while I was gone—I would concentrate on serving the Lord. One thing lifting had taught me was that the loss of concentration can lead to failure. You lose your concentration, your goal disappears from your mind, and you never reach it. So I decided to put all the powers of concentration I’d learned in the gym to use in the mission field, and it worked!
It wasn’t easy, of course. Challenging people with the gospel was as hard as trying to lift a heavy weight. But when our investigators accepted our message, the feeling was far greater than winning a weight lifting competition ever was.
On my mission, I learned a lot about a different kind of lifting. The mission president encouraged us to try helping someone every day. That way, we would lift them, and lift ourselves. Service to others, service to the Lord—now that was true power lifting.
Once I got home, I took up weight lifting again, but with a considerably different attitude. I’d never looked on my weight lifting talent as a gift before. I hadn’t thought that training was a way of magnifying that talent. I began training with a new intensity. Also, I figured that as I continued to work hard, I would have more opportunities to meet people who didn’t have the gospel in their lives, and I could share it with them. And maybe my example could help someone.
It wasn’t easy to jump right back into lifting, but within seven months I won the National Collegiate Power Lifting Championship in the 198-pound weight class. The following year I won it again, and even managed to set two national records. It dawned on me that I hadn’t lost anything, but I’d gained a great deal. I’d learned about true happiness, determination, self-worth, and the belief in a divine purpose—and oh, yes—I’d learned what true power lifting really is.

Recently I learned of two valiant young women who, as they lived the commandments and radiated the joy of the gospel, stood as witnesses of God. This is the story as told by a senior missionary at the MTC.
She said that years earlier she was at home one day ironing, watching a soap opera, and smoking a cigarette when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, there were two men in white shirts and ties, and one of them introduced himself as her bishop. He said that as he was praying, he had felt inspired to ask her to teach Young Women. She told him that she had been baptized at age 10 but had never been active. He seemed undeterred as he showed her the manual and explained where they met on Wednesday night. Then she emphatically said, “I can’t teach 16-year-olds; I’m inactive, and besides I smoke.” Then he said, “You won’t be inactive anymore, and you have until Wednesday to quit smoking.” Then he left.
She said, “I remember shouting in the air in anger, but then I couldn’t resist the urge to read the manual. In fact, I was so curious, I read it from cover to cover and then memorized every word of that lesson.
“By Wednesday I was still not going to go, but I found myself driving to church, scared to death. I had never been scared of anything before. I had grown up in the slums, been in detention once myself, and rescued my father from the ‘drunk tank.’ And all of a sudden there I was at Mutual being introduced as the new Laurel adviser. I sat before two Laurels and gave the lesson word for word, even the parts that said ‘Now ask them …’ I left immediately after the lesson and cried all the way home.
“A few days later there was another knock at the door, and I thought, ‘Good. It’s the bishop here to retrieve his manual.’ I opened the door, and standing there were those two lovely Laurels, one with flowers, the other with cookies. They invited me to go to church with them on Sunday, which I did. I liked those girls. They began by teaching me about the Church, the ward, the class. They taught me how to sew, read scriptures, and smile.
“Together we started teaching the other girls in the class who weren’t coming. We taught them wherever we could find them—in cars, in bowling alleys, and on porches. Within six months, 14 of them were coming, and in a year all 16 girls on the roll were active. We laughed and cried together. We learned to pray, study the gospel, and serve others.”
These two valiant young women stood as witnesses for truth and righteousness, for goodness and the joy of the gospel.