Gospel Story Finder

As they walk through the Kiev Botanical Gardens, Lilia Velbivets and Aliona Papilenkova explain. “Youth in the Church are a lot like those trees,” Lilia says. “We shelter each other, we protect each other, and together we grow straight and true.”
Lilia talks about her family’s growth in the gospel. “My mother and I met the sister missionaries, and we were excited to learn about another testament of Jesus Christ (the Book of Mormon). But my father was an atheist and slower to convert.” As the family took the discussions regularly, however, her father’s heart was touched. All three were baptized on the same day.
“The next year was wonderful as we prepared to go to the temple (in Freiberg, Germany) to be sealed as a family,” Lilia continues. “When we arrived I felt like I was at home, because the temple is the house of God and we are His children.”

He was too young to remember when they had crossed the plains in the covered wagon to Utah. Louisa remembered, though.

“Mother and Father packed our clothes, quilts, pots and pans, dishes, food, and everything else they could into the wagon. I put in my doll and helped with some of the smaller things. Father hitched the oxen to the wagon and we started on our long journey. I’d never seen oxen before. They looked like big brown cows to me.”

“What about the sea gulls, Louisa?” Thomas didn’t like to hear about the hard times they had traveling to their new home in the mountains.

“When we first came to Utah, I helped Father and Mother plant the seeds in the ground. It took Father two days to break the hard ground before we could plant the seeds. All day we worked and dropped a seed at a time on the ground.”

“Where was I?” asked Thomas.

“You wouldn’t remember because you were only a baby then and had just learned to walk,” Louisa answered quietly. “Anyway, when the new plants were just coming up, about this high,” Louisa measured with her fingers, “some crickets came and began eating them. More and more crickets came.”

“What are crickets?”

“Thomas, you know what crickets are. They are those shiny black bugs. They scrape their wings together to make a squeaky sound at night,” Louisa answered.

“Oh. Tell me about the sea gulls.”

Louisa began her story again. “Everyone got sticks and shovels and whatever they could find and began beating the crickets. But more crickets came. Finally, the people gave up. They couldn’t kill all the crickets. They were going to eat up all the food we planted.”

“When did the sea gulls come?” Thomas asked.

“Father and Mother and the rest of the people prayed to our Heavenly Father that the crops would be saved from the hungry crickets. And it wasn’t long until we were surprised to hear a noise in the sky. I looked up and saw sea gulls. At first they looked like more crickets. I hadn’t seen any sea gulls here before, although I used to watch them on the ocean before we came west in the wagon.”

“The sea gulls came to the ground and ate up the crickets,” Louisa continued. “No one had really noticed them in the valley before. Some people say they were here all the time. But I think Heavenly Father sent them to us when the people prayed. What do you think, Thomas?”

Sunday was Eli’s birthday. He was four years old.
In four more years, you will be baptized.
And four years after that, you will be a deacon and you will be able to pass the sacrament.
Later, Mom helped Eli change from his pajamas into his church clothes.
Do deacons wear superhero pants to church?
No. Deacons wear nice pants.
Do deacons wear superhero shirts to church?
No. Deacons wear white shirts and ties.
I want to wear a white shirt and nice pants. I want to dress like a deacon.
Mom helped Eli put on his nice pants, a white shirt, and a tie.
At church, Eli folded his arms as he watched the deacons pass the sacrament.
When a deacon brought Eli the sacrament, Eli took a piece of bread and then handed the tray to Mom.
Mom smiled at Eli. He was happy to help. He couldn’t wait until he could be a deacon.

Not long after our friend Carolyn Rasmus joined the faculty of Brigham Young University, a group of her new teaching colleagues invited her to join them on a Saturday hike in the mountains above Provo. Carolyn was not a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but she had felt particularly welcome in her new circle of associates. She eagerly joined them for the climb.
As the sun steadily rose, so did the hikers on the mountainside. Then, as the ten o’clock hour approached, the group began to find places to sit down. Carolyn thought, “This is wonderful. How did they know I needed the rest?” and she, too, looked for a comfortable spot to stretch out. But the participants seemed unusually earnest about this particular break, some pulling out pencils and notebooks while one intently dialed a transistor radio.
What then happened would be a turning point in her life forever. One of her friends said, “Carolyn, we need to explain something. This is the first Saturday in October, and for us that means not only lovely weather and bright fall foliage, but it also means a general conference of the Church. As Latter-day Saints, wherever we are or whatever we are doing, we stop and listen. So we are going to sit here among the oak and the pines, look out over the valley below, and listen to the prophets of God for a couple of hours.”
“A couple of hours!” thought Carolyn. “I didn’t know there were prophets of God still living,” she said, “and I certainly didn’t know there were two hours’ worth!” Little did she know that they were going to stop again at two o’clock that afternoon for another two hours and then invite her to tune in at home for four more the next day.
Well, the rest is history. With the gift of a leather-bound copy of the scriptures from her students, the love of friends and families in the LDS ward she began to attend, and spiritual experiences we want all who make their way into the light of the gospel to have, Carolyn was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. The rest is, as they say, history. With her introduction to general conference that day sitting high atop Y Mountain, Sister Rasmus had seen her own personal fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophetic invitation: “Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths: for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.”

It started out as an ordinary Primary lesson. I was standing in front of my class of eight-year-old boys and girls, telling them a story about one of the latter-day prophets. When I finished, I began to question them about the moral the story taught. Everyone in the class wanted to answer my question—everyone, that is, but Robert.
I thought nothing of it. He was new in the class, and I thought he was probably just shy about speaking out on his first day. But as the answer was given and as we talked about it, I noticed that Robert’s face got more and more troubled. He wasn’t understanding the idea.
The week before, I hadn’t had time to finish the lesson I had prepared. I knew there wasn’t much time again now, and so I told myself I couldn’t make the other children wait until I had explained it again for Robert’s sake. I decided to go on. After all, I told myself, we will probably go over this idea again some other time.
I made one quick look around the room to make sure the rest understood. As my eyes passed by Robert’s, my heart froze. In an instant it seemed as though his face faded away and in its place I saw that of my three-year-old son, Sam. Startled, I just stood there, staring at Robert as if I expected the transformation to happen again. It didn’t then, or ever again.
Later that evening as I thought about the incident, I began to feel guilty about what I had done. Suddenly I was looking ahead five years from now; Sam was sitting in what had been Robert’s chair, and I had been replaced by another teacher. She was telling the same story I had told and was getting the same response from my son that I had received from Robert.
She looked at Sam and saw that he didn’t understand. But she proceeded right on with the lesson anyway, saying to herself, “We will probably go over this idea again some other time. Maybe he’ll understand it then.”
I watched Sam sitting alone on his chair, his feet not even touching the floor. I watched him as the rest of the class hurried on with the lesson, leaving him bewildered.
Then I realized the impact of what I had done. I had passed over a child of God simply because I couldn’t be bothered. I had lost an important teaching moment. I had been given the opportunity to place a child closer to his Father in Heaven, but had turned my back.
I’ve never forgotten the lesson I learned that day—that only when I have done my best on behalf of all the children I teach can I pray for the best from another teacher on behalf of my own child.

One Sunday evening, all of the youth and their parents were invited to a meeting to launch Moroni’s Promise. It was the young, valiant captains of ten who gave the vision, reviewed the promise (see Moro. 10:3–5), spoke of agency and obedience, explained the program, and called for volunteers to join one of their teams.
One young captain of ten, Michelle Gardner, referred to the promise made by President Gordon B. Hinkley to all the members of the Church who read the Book of Mormon. He promised those who read daily that “there will come into your lives and into your homes an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to his commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God” (Ensign, Nov. 1979, p. 9).
Appealing to the youth for whom she now felt a keen sense of responsibility, she added her own personal testimony. “I know when I read each day, especially when I study and don’t just skim over what I’m reading, I do feel a greater desire to live the commandments and to have the Spirit of the Lord in my life.”
Individualized packets were provided which included the quote from Moroni printed on parchment ready for framing, a system for recording progress, recommended target dates, helpful study methods, a promise of celebration stations, and a letter to be sent to a trusted friend or relative requesting support and continuous encouragement during the coming months as they read the Book of Mormon. An application form was also provided requesting the parent’s signature as well as the signature of a member of the bishopric.
Each participant was invited to add his or her own signature as an indication of willingness to be diligent in endeavoring to reach the goal of having read the entire Book of Mormon within the set time limit. This could be accomplished by reading approximately 16 pages per week. A captain of ten also signed the application indicating a willingness to be in touch each week to determine progress and provide encouragement to each member of his or her team.
Individual progress was not a public matter. However, increased interest was awakened when the aggregate “scores” of the teams were recorded on an attractive chart that was periodically displayed in the chapel foyer with pictures of various activities.
As eager participants finished the last verse of Alma 63, “And thus ended the account of Alma,” they would rush, regardless of the hour, to Sister Bonnie Guthrie, who helped with the records, assisted in making calls for captains as needed, and dispensed T-shirts to each one finishing the book of Alma. The T-shirts with “STOMP” (for “Students Trying Out Moroni’s Promise”) printed in bold letters across the front provided the incentive that urged many through the pages of Alma.
A celebration station was an event scheduled at regular intervals along the way to give strong incentives and provide continuous encouragement to the captains, who in turn, inspired their team members as they made their weekly contacts. The captains were to then give an accounting to the specialist in a brief weekly meeting following sacrament meeting. Many, many extra calls at various times were required to accomplish this necessary follow-up.
As the group completed Alma, a celebration station was scheduled. The snow had been falling all night, and it was unseasonably cold, but nothing would daunt the plans for the scheduled tree planting celebration. A flowering cherry tree had been selected. The hole was dug, and all ward members were invited to gather at the church.
Robert Davis stood before the group holding a scroll containing all the names of those who at that time had finished reading Alma. He rolled the scroll, put it in a plastic-coated container, sealed it, and then respectfully placed it in the hole at the base of the tree and explained, “You’re probably wondering why we are planting a tree. If you will recall in Alma the planting of a seed which became a tree has meaning because of the analogy to a growing testimony.” He then read Alma 32:27–41, “But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof, it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life.”
On Mother’s Day following sacrament meeting, the entire ward was invited to gather around the flagpole for yet another celebration station. Richard Newman and Mike Bettilyon, both captains of ten, unfolded the beautifully designed flag with the large dark blue letters “Moroni’s Promise” centered in a white open field.
There were other names on that flag also. Those who had finished the Book of Helaman had added their signatures to the flag as an official Mother’s Day record. Bishop Bradford reminded everyone of the stripling warriors who did not fear death for they had been taught by their mothers that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them (see Alma 56:47). The captains attached the flag and pulled the ropes raising it to the very top of the long silver pole. Hearts were opened and feelings were tender as expressed by a younger member of the group, who whispering to a friend close by, said, “My name is on that flag,” and his friend responded reverently, “So is mine.”
By now the flowering cherry tree planted earlier was bursting into bloom nearby as a reminder of growing testimonies.
What difference has all this effort made? There have been 120 readers, 38 adults and 82 youth, participating in Moroni’s Promise.
Thirteen-year-old Wid Covey, standing before an audience, volunteered his testimony, “I’m thankful for this Moroni’s Promise program because it helps me understand the scriptures. When I sit down with my dad to read the Book of Mormon he helps me understand about it also. I’m thankful for Michelle Gardner. She calls me every week, and it helps me a lot and she encourages me.”
Sister Margaret Kirkham reported, “Our whole family looks forward to Richard Newman, our captain of ten, coming to encourage us. This project has been a great influence to our entire family.”
Bishop Bradford reflected on the past eight months. “It has made a great difference. There are few activities that could have unified our youth as well as this. I can’t say that all our youth now have a strong personal testimony of the Book of Mormon, but it’s a super beginning. With the help of our inspired specialist, a great number of young people will be better missionaries in every aspect of their lives, and all of them are better prepared to withstand the evils of the world.”

Dalisey Brooks of Cape Town, South Africa is a Latter-day Saint, a Young Women president, online BYU student, and budding entrepreneur in the Church’s self-reliance program.
When she was 16, the Spirit guided her to talk to some missionaries she saw on the street which led to her conversion and baptism. Years later, this same Spirit has guided her to the Church’s Self-Reliance program to start her own business. With the help of her self-reliance group, she created an online store to sell her own line of handmade South African sandals and clothing.
Dalisey recalls that, “even as a little girl who owned only one red dress and no shoes, I loved fashion. Despite my shyness, I worked in the retail industry of South Africa to develop communication skills and self-esteem. By day, I design and sell quality sandals, accessories, and clothing. By night, I study for a bachelor of science in business management with a finance emphasis through BYU.”
In 2020, Dalisey was looking for help to start her business. At the same time, across the globe, a new self-reliance instructor in Idaho was looking for members to attend his first self-reliance group. “Because of the pandemic, I couldn’t get anyone to attend. So, I created an online group instead. I found one member from South Africa [Dalisey] to participate,” said Ben Davidson of the Pocatello Idaho East Stake. “Our weekly Zoom meetings eventually pulled in a class of BYU-I students working with Brother John Ward of the Rexburg Business Development Center.
“I always wanted to start my own business,” explained Dalisey, “but I didn’t have anyone to guide me.” Thanks to the Church’s self-reliance program, Dalisey is now a business owner. “I am grateful beyond words,” she says. Her unique line of sandals and accessories use colorful fabrics, soft ropes, and leather available in South Africa.
“Having firsthand experience with poverty, I believe in serving and giving back to the community. The products are handcrafted there in Cape Town. My brand, Chipantha, is named after my grandfather. He didn’t see me as a helpless little girl in a village. He saw who I might become. He gave me the ability to persevere,” explains Dalisey.
“Dalisey’s strength and testimony bless me each week we meet as part of the Church’s self-reliance program. I feel blessed to serve in a Church of brothers and sisters who are united in so many ways, including a self-reliance class that joins members from Cape Town, Pocatello, and Rexburg,” says Davidson.

As my final story today, I want to tell you about a time this summer when I felt true joy, brimming over and impossible to contain.
My son Tate is fifteen years old, and he practices the piano about three to four hours per day on school days and closer to six hours per day during the summer. This past spring he set a goal to play with the Utah Symphony in their Salute to Youth Concert, which is held each fall. It is a statewide competition that draws some of the best young pianists each year. Tate spent countless hours practicing and refining a fifteen-minute Chopin concerto and eventually submitted his best recording to the judges in late June in hopes that he would be selected to play in the final round of the competition later that summer. The finalists were to be announced the morning of July 20, which happened to be the day that our youth would be pulling handcarts up Rocky Ridge in Wyoming.
Time went by slowly, and we prayed as a family every day that Tate would make it to the final round of the competition. Eventually the youth trek began, and Tate seemed to forget the impending announcement amidst the excitement of pulling a handcart in the 95-degree Wyoming sun, crossing rivers, square dancing, and singing songs with his handcart brothers at the tops of their lungs.
On that Friday morning, soon after we sent our handcart company off toward Rocky Ridge, I received an unexpected text message from Melinda out in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming. Tate had been selected to play in that final round of the competition. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face, and I couldn’t prevent the tears that came with it. That has to be one of the greatest emotions in the world—tears and smiling at the same time. I still remember the sweetness of how that moment felt and how I couldn’t wait until noon, when I would be able to tell Tate personally. Here’s what I recorded in my pioneer journal that evening about the events of that day:
Because I was taking lunches to the trekkers today, I got to catch up to Tate after he hiked Rocky Ridge. He looked so good coming into the break area, so strong and pure. After he had eaten[lunch], I asked him to come talk with me. I walked with him just a little ways from everyone so we could be alone, and I asked him if he was ready to hear the decision. He looked [very] concerned, and he said he wasn’t sure he wanted to know because he didn’t want to ruin the rest of his trek. I just looked at him in the eye, and I said, “You won’t be disappointed.” His look registered complete disbelief at what he had just heard. So I clarified, “Tate, you get to play in the final round of the competition.” His face was an expression of pure joy, and he couldn’t contain it. He reached out to me and hugged me like he has never hugged me before. He was in tears with joy. He even picked me up and swung me around, he was so excited. He walked off a little ways and just looked over the plains. He couldn’t contain all that joy. He was so adorable to watch with his friends as they found out. Tate just kept smiling and crying. I experienced true joy for those precious minutes.

Every year since he was three years old, Tommy Tipana had gone into the wilderness with his grandfather, Utak, for a short period of time to learn the old ways of his people. Tommy’s father, however, was a modern Eskimo who lived in a sturdy wooden house and had a snowmobile. He did not approve of the old ways, but he allowed Tommy to learn what he could from Utak.
The year Tommy was ten, Grandfather Utak invited him to go on a trip through Anaktuvuk Pass by dogsled. So, early one morning Tommy waved good-bye to his parents, then snuggled down under a bearskin robe on his grandfather’s sled. Utak cracked the long whip that sent the dogs bounding toward the snow-covered tundra, and the journey began.
At the end of the day, Utak and Tommy stopped the dog team and fed them strips of caribou meat. Afterward Utak tapped on the snow with his ayoutak (long stick used for probing), and they listened for a deep, resounding squeak. “A good spot,” Tommy said, pointing.
His grandfather smiled and nodded. “Yes, the snowdrift is firm and deep here, Grandson. It will make a good igloo. You learn well.”
Together they cut out blocks of snow and stacked them. Then they packed the joints and cracks with loose snow, leaving only a small doorway for them to enter. They built a fire, and all was warm and cozy for the night. Next they cut a hole in the ice and fished for arctic charr. As Tommy and Utak ate their meal, Utak smiled in the light of the fire, for he was pleased with his grandson. “It is good that you learn the ways of our people,” Utak said encouragingly. “Soon there will be few who remember, and the new ways are wrong.”
“Father lives the new ways,” Tommy said, bewildered. “How can they be wrong?”
“Your parents go to the store to buy their food and clothes. They have forgotten how to fish and hunt and tan hides and sew. They have no dogsled, but ride on a snowmobile. All that we need is outside our igloo, Tommy, if we know how to use it.”
Utak slept, and Tommy sat curled in his bearskin, watching the fire. Outside, he could hear the whistling snow as it covered everything with a white blanket. He wondered which way was best—the old way or the new way. Tommy liked them both.
Early in the morning, Tommy and Utak ate and dressed quickly, for the fire was low. Tommy coiled thongs of caribou skin around his boots to make them skid proof. Pulling the hood of his fur coat closely around his face, he crawled out into the blazing whiteness of the new day. The dogs, shaking the snow from their coats, barked and strained at their tethers while Tommy threw them strips of frozen whale blubber. When they were through eating, Tommy helped them into their traces and waited for Utak. But Utak did not come out of the igloo.
“Grandfather!” Tommy called, kneeling at the doorway. “The dogs are ready.”
“Tommy, come here,” came his grandfather’s faint answer.
Tommy crawled back into the igloo. His grandfather sat leaning against the wall amid their belongings. His hand was massaging his chest.
“Grandfather,” Tommy whispered, “are you ill?”
Utak motioned for Tommy to come closer. “You must leave me here, Tommy. I am a sick old man, and it is the old way to deal with sickness.”
“I cannot leave you!” Tommy cried. “You are my grandfather.”
“Adjornarmat (that is life),” Grandfather said, shaking his head slowly. “Now do as I say! Leave me here. Take the sled and return to your parents … but do not forget the old ways.”
“I will not leave you, Grandfather,” Tommy replied. “There is much I do not know yet, and you are the only one who can teach me.”
Tommy hurried outside to get a wide strip of baleen (whalebone) from the sled and bring it into the igloo.
“Here, Grandfather, let me help you.”
Tommy helped Utak onto the baleen, then pulled his grandfather to the sled. Slowly Utak climbed onto the sled, and Tommy wrapped him in bearskins. Then Tommy packed their few belongings and turned the dogs toward home. His grandfather slept.
The dogs knew Utak was not driving them, and they growled, refusing to pull. Finally, Tommy lifted the heavy whip and commanded them as his grandfather had done so many times before. The whip cracked sharply in the frozen morning air; the lead dog growled one more time, then began to pull. They had a new master now, but he had learned much from their old master.
Back along the frozen tundra the sled raced, mile after mile, without Grandfather to guide it. Nevertheless, the boy remembered all he had learned and drove the sled in a straight line. Late that night, they arrived home.
The next morning Utak awoke in a hospital bed with white sheets. There were curtains at the windows. A nurse was leaning over him.
“Your grandson saved your life, Mr. Tipana,” she said, smiling. “Would you like to see him?”
Utak nodded, and Tommy walked into the hospital room, followed by his parents. He bent and hugged his grandfather gently. “Thank you, Grandfather,” he whispered.
“You saved my life and yet you thank me?” Utak was puzzled.
“For the old ways,” Tommy said and smiled. “If I had not known them, I would not have been able to bring you to the new ways that have saved your life.”
Tommy’s father frowned. “Utak! You must give up the old ways—the new ways are better and safer.”
Tommy simply smiled to himself as his father and grandfather argued about the old and new ways. He wondered why they did not understand as he did that both ways were good. Tommy knew he would live somewhere between them, for he had learned to love them both.

This story happened in Canada.
“Mamá, guess what?” Ana’s older sister, Mila, said. She held up her report card from school. “I have As in all my classes!”
Ana rolled her eyes. Why did Mila always have to be so perfect?
“That’s great,” Mamá said. “I’m proud of you.” She turned to Ana. “And how are your grades?”
Ana handed Mamá her report card. “They’re fine,” Ana said, looking down. Ana tried hard in school. But she didn’t have perfect grades like Mila did.
“I’m proud of you too,” Mamá said. She gave Ana a hug.
She’s just saying that to make me feel better, Ana thought. Mila had always been smarter than her.
But Mila wasn’t just better at school than Ana. She was better at everything. She had more friends. She had prettier hair. She was better at sports. Everyone loved Mila.
Ana’s parents tried to help.
“You are so important, Ana,” Papi would say.
“You are beautiful and smart,” Mamá would say.
But Ana didn’t feel important or beautiful or smart. Not compared to Mila.
One day Ana and Mila were playing a board game. “Looks like you won again,” Ana groaned.
“Want to play something else?” Mila asked. “We could go outside. I bet you’ll beat me at soccer!”
“No!” Ana snapped. “I’m tired of losing, and I’m tired of you always being better than me.” She felt like there was hot water boiling inside her.
Mila’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry—”
Ana turned and ran to her room before Mila could finish. “I’ll never be perfect like you!” she said, and slammed the door.
Ana lay on her bed with her face in her pillow. She felt so angry!
She huffed some deep breaths. When she was calm, Ana knelt to say a prayer. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she said, “please help me. I’m always jealous of Mila.” Her voice got quiet. “I feel like I’ll never be good enough. Do You really love me?”
A warm feeling spread from Ana’s head down to her toes. Then she had a thought. Heavenly Father loved people because they were His children. Not because they were the best. Maybe Ana didn’t have to be better than anyone else to be loved. She was loved right now.
Ana stayed on her knees. She didn’t want the good feeling to go away. Heavenly Father did love her—a lot.
Then there was a gentle knock at the door. It was Mamá. She sat on the bed next to Ana. “I heard you were upset.”
Ana nodded. “Yeah. I feel better now though. I know I shouldn’t be angry at Mila for getting good grades or winning. And I said a prayer, which helped a lot.”
Mamá put her arm around Ana. “How did you feel when you prayed?”
“Good,” Ana said. “I felt like I was really important to Heavenly Father.”
Mamá pulled Ana close. “You’ve always been really important—to Heavenly Father and to us. But I’m glad that you know that now.”
“Me too. I’m going to tell Mila I’m sorry for yelling at her.” Ana smiled. “And ask if she wants to play soccer!”
Illustrations by Marina Martin

Many of you have gone on full-time missions, and many of you are preparing to go out soon. Relying on the Spirit is the best preparation for missionary work. In 1974 two missionaries who were in Italy came and knocked at my door. My mother was alone at home that day and, before letting them in, she looked through the peep hole of our door on the seventh floor of the apartment building in which we lived. You see, the week before one of her friends had been attacked in her home while she was alone. Two young men had introduced themselves as employees of a utilities company, and the woman allowed them in the home to check the gas lines. They seized her, hit her in the forehead with a gun, fired a shot in the air to scare her, and robbed her of all her jewelry. My mother had gone to visit that friend in the hospital just a couple of days earlier. Now, she was not going to let those two young men with a foreign accent into the house, especially when no one else was there. She told them that she was the maid and that she was not allowed to let anyone in.

The two missionaries left, marked my address with a check, and went on to the next home. A few days later they happened in my neighborhood again, and the same scenario followed. My mother was home alone, and the missionaries were not permitted to enter. All you returned missionaries can relate to this experience, and I am sure that you remember how disappointed you were in similar situations. Well, as you know, after two or three unsuccessful tries, missionaries usually don’t go back to the same place. They look for friendlier people! Those two missionaries were later assigned to a different neighborhood and for awhile worked in another area of the town.

Some time went by, and one day my mother saw a missionary street board in the main square of our town. Her interest was immediately drawn by the pictures and the writings on the board, and she began talking to the missionaries. Suddenly it started to rain, one of those thick and abrupt rainstorms of central Italy that keep the country beautifully green but that also catch you by surprise. My mother ran away to take cover. She still had many questions in her mind but didn’t have the time to give her name or address to the missionaries.

The next day or so, the same first two missionaries happened—and I emphasize “happened’—into my neighborhood. They were still working in another part of town, but that day they decided to take a different way home. As they were walking down my street, one of the missionaries asked the other one if they should try that building on 71 Carducci Street again—on the seventh floor. His companion told him that it would be a waste of time; they had already tried three times! The first missionary then replied, “I don’t know why, but I know that we have to go back to that residence. I have no explanation, no reason—I just feel that we have to try again.”

So they went up the stairs, rang the doorbell, and waited outside for a little while. My mother was alone again, but that day, that time, she did open the door, and she let them in. That missionary is the reason why I am here today, why I began attending this church, why I was baptized, and why now I have been married in the temple for time and all eternity, with a beautiful family and eternal blessings awaiting me. That missionary listened to the Spirit, and he could hear the Spirit because he was ready to listen. My life is a miracle, a miracle made possible by the faith of another, and by the love of the Lord for me.

Such a project is ongoing on the Pacific Island nation of Kiribati.
Tamana Natanaera, the local self-reliance manager for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was tasked with finding members with gardening experience and a passion for growing things.
Working with local leaders, Tamana helped to identify seven qualified members whom he refers to as “champions.”
Each champion was given the equipment to set up a nursery tailored to fit in his or her available space.
A simple greenhouse was supplied to hold and protect seedling trays, as well as to offer shade as needed. Seeds were provided for growing nutritious produce such as cucumber, eggplant, capsicum, cabbage, tomato, watermelon, papaya and rock melon.
A watering system is a particular necessity in Kiribati. Although the 33 islands that comprise Kiribati stretch across 3.5 million square kilometres of ocean water, fresh water is very scarce.
The champions were thus each provided with a watering system composed of a small solar pump to draw water from a well, a water tank with a stand, and a piping system.
Tamana Natanaera noted that the water system given to the champions is a big help as it greatly improves their ability to produce more.
With these necessary tools, the champion gardeners are able to do their part. For two years now, they have been planting the seeds in the small trays and nurturing them.
When the seedlings are ready to be transplanted into a garden, the champions begin sharing them with neighbours and friends. They may ask their church leaders to announce to their congregation that seedlings are available. They may also give the seedlings to coworkers or to neighbours in their communities who are interested in growing their own produce.
When the champion has seedlings left over, they can transplant them into their own garden for their personal use or they may sell their excess produce to neighbours.
The Church will provide seeds to the champions for one more year and at the end of that period, the gardeners should be capable of producing their own seeds to maintain growing and sharing the seedlings. The program will continue to bless many people in Kiribati communities.
This project is not just an example of growing seedlings, but also of growing self-reliance, community spirit and neighbourly friendships. Underpinning all of this is a growing faith—among many participants—in He who created all things, and who cares for His children, one by one.

My father-in-law crossed a strip of desert on horseback as a young man—sixty miles with no water. He planned to meet a wagon train midway to replenish his water, but they were delayed two days in starting and he met no one else. His tongue swelled up, his throat was parched, his dog died, and the horse keeled over. He thought he was going to die. He finally made it, but, in listening to the story, I can feel the intense, agonizing, thirsting desperation for moisture, just like a man held under water gasps for air.

Sister Gilbert: We will start with a story from an earlier assignment. Ten years ago, in this very auditorium, President Russell M. Nelson announced my husband as the new president of BYU-Idaho.

Elder Gilbert: Fittingly, the title of President Nelson’s message that day was, “The Lord Uses the Unlikely to Accomplish the Impossible.” [1] On the morning of the announcement, we had arrived early with our entire family. President Kim B. Clark had been concerned that people might anticipate the announcement. He wasn’t even sure if we should bring our family for fear it would lead to speculation. And to avoid signaling anything to his staff, he decided it was best not to save seats for us. So, we arrived early and scrabbled to find seating for all nine Gilberts when the doors opened. The closest seats we could secure were all the way into the middle of the main plaza. After President Nelson announced my role, he had our entire family come to the podium. We looked like the Von Trapp family singers walking to the stage. Our friend Leon Parsons captured this portrait of that moment.

Sister Gilbert: The significance of that painting is more than just a poignant moment for our family. Prior to the announcement, we met with President Nelson to discuss our new BYU-Idaho responsibilities. President Nelson only gave us one specific charge: Teach the importance of the family. In fact, when it was unclear whether to bring our family to the announcement, it was President Nelson who said, “Bring them. They are part of your assignment.”

In a Saturday evening meeting at a stake conference many years ago, I met a woman who said her friends had asked her to come back to church after many years of inactivity, but she could not think of any reason why she should. To encourage her, I said, “When you consider all of the things the Savior has done for you, you have many reasons to come back to worship and serve Him.” I was astonished when she replied, “What’s He done for me?”
What has Jesus Christ done for each of us? He has done everything that is essential for our journey through mortality toward the destiny outlined in the plan of our Heavenly Father. I will speak of four of the principal features of that plan. In each of these, His Only Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, is the central figure. Motivating all of this is “the love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men; wherefore, it is the most desirable above all things” (1 Nephi 11:22).
Just before Easter Sunday, it is timely to speak first of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. The Resurrection from the dead is the reassuring personal pillar of our faith. It adds meaning to our doctrine, motivation to our behavior, and hope for our future.
Because we believe the Bible and Book of Mormon descriptions of the literal Resurrection of Jesus Christ, we also accept the numerous scriptural teachings that a similar resurrection will come to all mortals who have ever lived upon this earth. As Jesus taught, “Because I live, ye shall live also” (John 14:19). And His Apostle taught that “the dead shall be raised incorruptible” and “this mortal shall have put on immortality” (1 Corinthians 15:52, 54).
But the Resurrection gives us more than this assurance of immortality. It changes the way we view mortal life.
The Resurrection gives us the perspective and the strength to endure the mortal challenges faced by each of us and those we love. It gives us a new way to view the physical, mental, or emotional deficiencies we have at birth or acquire during mortal life. It gives us the strength to endure sorrows, failures, and frustrations. Because each of us has an assured resurrection, we know that these mortal deficiencies and oppositions are only temporary.
The Resurrection also gives us a powerful incentive to keep the commandments of God during our mortal lives. When we rise from the dead and proceed to our prophesied Final Judgment, we want to have qualified for the choicest blessings promised to resurrected beings.
In addition, the promise that the Resurrection can include an opportunity to be with our family members—husband, wife, children, parents, and posterity—is a powerful encouragement to fulfill our family responsibilities in mortality. It also helps us live together in love in this life, and it comforts us in the death of our loved ones. We know that these mortal separations are only temporary, and we anticipate future joyful reunions and associations. The Resurrection provides us hope and the strength to be patient as we wait. It also prepares us with the courage and dignity to face our own death—even a death that might be called premature.
All of these effects of the Resurrection are part of the first answer to the question “What has Jesus Christ done for me?”
For most of us, the opportunity to be forgiven of our sins is the major meaning of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. In worship, we reverently sing:
His precious blood he freely spilt;
His life he freely gave,
A sinless sacrifice for guilt,
A dying world to save.
Our Savior and Redeemer endured incomprehensible suffering to become a sacrifice for the sins of all mortals who would repent. This atoning sacrifice offered the ultimate good, the pure lamb without blemish, for the ultimate measure of evil, the sins of the entire world. It opened the door for each of us to be cleansed of our personal sins so we can be readmitted to the presence of God, our Eternal Father. This open door is available to all of the children of God. In worship, we sing:
I marvel that he would descend from his throne divine
To rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine,
That he should extend his great love unto such as I.
The magnificent and incomprehensible effect of the Atonement of Jesus Christ is based on God’s love for each of us. It affirms His declaration that “the worth of souls”—every one—“is great in the sight of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 18:10). In the Bible, Jesus Christ explained this in terms of our Heavenly Father’s love: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). In modern revelation, our Redeemer, Jesus Christ, declared that He “so loved the world that he gave his own life, that as many as would believe might become the sons of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 34:3).
Is it any wonder, then, that the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ concludes with the teaching that to become “perfect” and “sanctified in Christ,” we must “love God with all [our] might, mind and strength”? (Moroni 10:32–33). His plan motivated by love must be received with love.
What else has our Savior, Jesus Christ, done for us? Through the teachings of His prophets and through His personal ministry, Jesus taught us the plan of salvation. This plan includes the Creation, the purpose of life, the necessity of opposition, and the gift of agency. He also taught us the commandments and covenants we must obey and the ordinances we must experience to take us back to our heavenly parents.
In the Bible, we read His teaching: “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life” (John 8:12). And in modern revelation, we read, “Behold, I am Jesus Christ, … a light which cannot be hid in darkness” (Doctrine and Covenants 14:9). If we follow His teachings, He lights our path in this life and assures our destiny in the next.
Because He loves us, He challenges us to focus on Him instead of the things of this mortal world. In His great sermon on the bread of life, Jesus taught that we should not be among those who are most attracted to the things of the world—the things that sustain life on earth but give no nourishment toward eternal life. As Jesus invited us again and again and again, “Follow me.”
Finally, the Book of Mormon teaches that as part of His Atonement, Jesus Christ “suffer[ed] pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people” (Alma 7:11).
Why did our Savior suffer these mortal challenges “of every kind”? Alma explained, “And he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor [which means to give relief or aid to] his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12).
Our Savior feels and knows our temptations, our struggles, our heartaches, and our sufferings, for He willingly experienced them all as part of His Atonement. Other scriptures affirm this. The New Testament declares, “In that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted” (Hebrews 2:18). Isaiah teaches, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: … I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee” (Isaiah 41:10). All who suffer any kind of mortal infirmities should remember that our Savior experienced that kind of pain also, and that through His Atonement, He offers each of us the strength to bear it.
The Prophet Joseph Smith summarized all of this in our third article of faith: “We believe that through the Atonement of Christ, all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the Gospel.”
“What has Jesus Christ done for me?” that sister asked. Under the plan of our Heavenly Father, He “created the heavens and the earth” (Doctrine and Covenants 14:9) so that each of us could have the mortal experience necessary to seek our divine destiny. As part of the Father’s plan, the Resurrection of Jesus Christ overcame death to assure each of us immortality. Jesus Christ’s atoning sacrifice gives each of us the opportunity to repent of our sins and return clean to our heavenly home. His commandments and covenants show us the way, and His priesthood gives the authority to perform the ordinances that are essential to reach that destiny. And our Savior willingly experienced all mortal pains and infirmities that He would know how to strengthen us in our afflictions.
Jesus Christ did all of this because He loves all of the children of God. Love is the motivation for it all, and it was so from the very beginning. God has told us in modern revelation that “he created … male and female, after his own image … ; and gave unto them commandments that they should love and serve him” (Doctrine and Covenants 20:18–19).
I testify of all of this and pray that we all will remember what our Savior has done for each of us and that we all will love and serve Him, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

At an age when many kids are trying to establish their personal independence and want to avoid their parents as much as possible, it’s a little unusual to see that Treasure and Mindy’s parents are their best friends.
“They say we can tell them anything, and no matter what we do, they’ll still love us, even if they don’t love what we did,” says Treasure.
“And I believe that,” says Mindy. “They’ve proven it.” One time Mindy was out with a group of friends who were doing a little mischief in people’s yards. Mindy wasn’t actually involved, but a few hours later a state trooper pulled into their driveway and collected Mindy to go help them clean up.
“My parents told me I shouldn’t have been with those kids, and they were right,” says Mindy. “I got punished, but they hugged me first and told me they loved me. It’s always been like that.”

For example, there is a temple recommend question that asks if there is anything in your family that is not in harmony with the gospel of Jesus Christ. An acquaintance once confessed during a temple recommend interview that while there was nothing amiss in his family, he was struggling with patience with a visiting mother-in-law and hoped that the Lord would help him to continue to keep his feelings and attitudes in harmony with the gospel. In turn, the counselor conducting the interview confessed that he too had a visiting mother-in-law and that is why he had willingly accepted a long list of interviews that evening. They both chuckled and then discussed the higher law that the temple recommend interview questions imply. Are we asked if we have patience with our in-laws in a temple recommend interview? No, but because we acknowledge our belief in the Savior and have a testimony of him, we will ultimately align our behavior and our attitudes so that everything we do will be a reflection of this testimony. We may not be perfect but we know that through the atonement of Jesus Christ, he can help us to become more perfect in our efforts to live these principles.

Two summers ago I heard someone talk about missionary work for those who aren’t serving a full-time mission. The speaker told us how important members of the Church are for the Churchwide missionary effort. He asked us to make a focused effort to help the missionaries in our wards by bringing a friend to Church activities and Sunday meetings. I decided that I would pray for missionary opportunities and make an effort to act on the promptings I would be given.
I started my first week of school and met a new guy named Chris, who had moved from across town. Chris was really cool and we soon became friends. One day I invited him to a combined youth activity at a corn maze. On the drive to the corn maze, Chris started asking questions about the Church. As I answered his questions, he asked me how I knew so much. I told him that we learn about the gospel in Church meetings and in seminary. To my surprise, Chris asked when seminary was. I told him it was every morning at six. I thought for sure that he would not be interested in waking up that early, but he surprised me again by asking me to pick him up on my way there.
Chris began attending seminary and church. He also started to meet with the missionaries. And a year later he was baptized. I had the opportunity to baptize Chris, and it was an amazing experience that I will never forget. I believe this would not have happened if I had not prayed for missionary opportunities. Heavenly Father knows each of us, and He helps us if we ask for it.

It was rather late at night when Sister Hammond and I entered the tiny apartment of the Florez family. They had just recently been baptized into the Church, and we wanted to visit them. Even though they were not quite sure what a General Authority was, they knew he was somebody quite important. The small apartment fairly gleamed from the mopping and polishing in preparation to receive us. Every member of the family stood to greet us as we entered. They were dressed in their finest clothing, which had been washed and pressed nearly to perfection. Everything had been done to make our visit as comfortable as possible, and each little child waited for us to express our approval for their supreme efforts.

We began by singing several hymns chosen by the children. Purposefully, we always suggest that we sing “Families Can Be Together Forever.” We asked them about the picture of the temple that hung on their wall and about the significance it had for them. They spoke humbly and sincerely about the time that they could go to the house of the Lord and be sealed together as a family forever. We talked about the difference the gospel had made in the family. I asked the children if they could see a difference in their father. They were happy to tell us that he seemed changed; that he treated their mother much better and that he seemed to love them more. The father stood humbly before us, pleased to hear such words from his loved ones. Then he said, “Will you wait for a moment? I have someone special that I would like you to meet.”

We watched him climb the tiny, narrow stairs to the bedroom above. In a moment he came down carrying a sweet little child in his arms. It was a little boy. His tiny body was twisted and disfigured beyond anything we had ever seen in our lives. A crippling virus had destroyed him mentally and physically just days after his birth. Now, seven years later, there had been almost no growth and no progress. He lay very still in the loving arms of his father. Gently the father extended his little frame for us to see. Then he said, “This is our precious son, Maximiliano. I am so grateful for the message that the missionaries brought to us just one month ago, for we now know that someday this little son of ours will be completely healed. He will be whole in body and in mind. And he will be ours—part of our family—forever and ever.”

With that he returned the little boy to his bed in the room above. The tears erupted from our eyes. We had never seen greater faith nor greater love. It was a moment of pure revelation.

One year later the family was sealed in the Santiago Chile Temple. Maximiliano was there, in his father’s arms, to be sealed. In the eternities he will be perfect in mind and in body. They will be an eternal family because the Florez family had seen the vision.

My older brother and sister, David and Shannon, also had their challenges. When David was one year old, he was severely burned. Scars covered his hands, arms, stomach, and legs. Shannon had a walking disability and was born with a slower mental capacity that often made her act younger than she was. Almost daily children at school made fun of them.
Despite their trials, my brother and sister looked to Christ in everything they did. Both of them served honorable missions. Their humility, constant faith, and perseverance provided wonderful examples. They are everything I want to become.
In this life we may be criticized and persecuted. That’s part of why we came here—to rise above the persecution and become stronger because of it. David, Shannon, and I are better people today for having been faithful in difficult experiences. I often say that everything given to us in life can be either a blessing or a curse. The strength of one’s heart determines which it is.