Gospel Story Finder

Cody stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him. It’s no use, he thought disgustedly. I’m never going to come up with anything, even if I sit here all day. While he sat worrying about his problem, there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Come in,” he said.
In walked Jason, his next-door neighbor and the best friend in the whole world. He was carrying a dirty orange basketball. “Come on—let’s go shoot some hoops.”
“I can’t,” Cody answered. “I have to finish my Primary talk.”
“You’re still working on that? Don’t you have to give it tomorrow?”
Cody nodded as Jason sat next to him on the bed. “What’s it supposed to be on, anyway?”
Cody frowned. “That’s the problem,” he said. “Sister Hansen said she wants me to talk about ‘My Pioneer Ancestors.’ I told her I don’t have any pioneer ancestors because my parents are both converts. She just smiled and said, ‘As members of the Church we all have pioneer ancestors, Cody.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason asked.
“Beats me. I’m probably the only kid in the whole Primary who doesn’t have at least one ancestor who pulled a handcart across Wyoming.”
“Why don’t you just read a story about some pioneer?” Jason asked.
“Because after she told me that business about everyone having pioneer ancestors, she told me that she didn’t want me to read some old story out of a magazine or something.”
“Boy, she really knows how to make it tough,” Jason sympathized. “I know! Why don’t you borrow one of my pioneer ancestors.”
“Great idea!” Cody slapped Jason on the back. Then he slumped down again. “Wait a minute,” he said, “that won’t work. Your mom teaches the CTRs. She’ll know what I’m doing.”
“Oh. Right. Are you positive you don’t have any pioneer ancestors? Not all the descendants of some of my pioneer ancestors stayed in the Church. Maybe one of your ancestors joined the Church, crossed the plains, then left Utah.”
Cody’s face brightened. “Maybe so. I never thought of that. Let’s go downstairs and see if anyone knows.”
Cody’s sister, Karyn, was just coming in the front door when they got downstairs. “Karyn,” Cody asked, “Do you know if we have any pioneer ancestors?”
“What kind of pioneer?” she asked, as she hung up her coat in the hall closet.
“What do you mean?” Cody asked. “How many kinds of pioneers are there?”
Karyn smiled. “Oh there are lots of kinds. My history teacher told us that a pioneer is anyone who prepares the way for others to follow.” The boys looked confused, so she explained further. “Like how the pilgrims prepared the way for others to come to America. Or how early doctors paved the way for better medicine.”
“How about Christopher Columbus?” Cody asked. “Wasn’t he a pioneer for other explorers?”
“Sure,” Karyn said, smiling. “That’s another good example.”
“I thought pioneers were only the people who pulled handcarts across the plains,” Jason said.
“Well, they were pioneers, too,” Karyn said. “Because of their great sacrifices, the Church grew strong. For many of them, the decision to join the Church affected their families for generations. That’s what made them such great pioneers.”
Cody thought for a minute about Karyn’s definition of pioneers. He was pretty sure that none of the other kids in Primary had thought of pioneers like that before. Suddenly he had a terrific idea for his talk.
“Thanks, Sis. I know exactly what I’m going to give my talk on now.”
Jason looked at him in surprise. “You do? What?”
Cody grinned. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.”
The next day in Primary, Cody sat in the front of the room, watching everyone else. He saw Jason sitting with the rest of his class. They were all being more reverent than Cody had ever imagined they could be. Jason must have told them all about Cody’s mysterious talk, and they were all anxious to hear it. Then he saw his mom, dad, and sister come in and sit in the back and smile at him.
Soon Primary began. After everyone sang the birthday song, it was time for his talk. He slowly walked to the pulpit.
“For my talk, I decided to bring along a couple of real pioneers,” he said. Jason stared at Cody. The rest of the children were craning their necks, looking for pioneers. Even some of the teachers were searching for something out of the ordinary.
“These pioneers didn’t cross the ocean, or pull a handcart across the plains, or even freeze any toes or fingers. But they did suffer a lot as the first ones in their families to join the Church. Their friends and family tried to discourage them from joining. They had to change their lives. And when they were married in the temple, no one in their families could be there. I think they are as much pioneers as anyone who crossed the plains to Utah. In fact, without their pioneering spirits, I wouldn’t be standing here today. Mom, Dad, could you please come up and share your pioneer testimonies with us?”
Cody watched his mom and dad walk up to the front of the room. Karyn smiled at Cody and gave him a big wink, as if to say “Good for you!” Cody sat back and listened intently to his mother’s testimony. Maybe, he thought, someday I’ll be a pioneer, too.

But another day with my father shaped my life forever. He took me from New Jersey to the home of an ordained patriarch in Salt Lake City. I had never seen the man before. My father left me at the doorstep. The patriarch led me to a chair, placed his hands on my head, and pronounced a blessing as a gift from God that included a declaration of the great desire of my heart.

He said that I was one of those of whom it had been said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.”6 I was so surprised that a perfect stranger could know my heart that I opened my eyes to see the room where such a miracle was happening. That blessing of my possibilities has shaped my life, my marriage, and my priesthood service.

Perhaps of all the Prophet’s Christmases, none was more pleasant than his last—December 1843. He recorded:
“This morning, about one o’clock, I was aroused by an English sister, Lettice Rushton, widow of Richard Rushton, Senior, (who, ten years ago, lost her sight) accompanied by three of her sons, with their wives, and her two daughters, with their husbands, and several of her neighbors, singing, ‘Mortals, awake! with angels join,’ which caused a thrill of pleasure to run through my soul. All of my family and boarders [in the house] arose to hear the serenade, and I felt to thank my Heavenly Father for their visit, and blessed them in the name of the Lord” (History of the Church, 6:134).
A large gathering of family and friends dined with the Prophet and spent the evening enjoying good music and dancing “in a most cheerful and friendly manner.” And then an uninvited guest interrupted the party. Joseph described the event:
“During the festivities, a man with his hair long and falling over his shoulders, … came in and acted [in an uncouth manner]. I requested the captain of the police to put him out of doors. A scuffle ensued, and I had an opportunity to look him full in the face, when to my great surprise and joy untold, I discovered it was my long-tried, warm, but cruelly persecuted friend, Orrin Porter Rockwell, just arrived from nearly a year’s imprisonment without conviction, in Missouri” (History of the Church, 6:134–45).

My name is Bapont Ngalamulume, I live in Kananga, in central DR Congo; I wanted to share the story about my marriage. A few days after I returned from my full-time mission, I met with my bishop to tell him that I had to return to Kinshasa to pursue my education and to build my life. The post missionary integration challenges were bothering me day and night in every way. My bishop looked me in the eye and told me that it was important to stay in Kananga, my hometown, and to strengthen my family who had just joined the Church when I was on my mission. My stake leaders urged me to stay and edify the Church, and I made the decision to stay in the city and to further my education, to build my life and to serve in the Church. This was not easy for me. On the one hand I had my studies to complete, and on the other hand, I had to simultaneously provide for my younger brother’s education and help my mother who was a widow.

Two great blessings that I received and am grateful for all my life:
The first of these is the vocational training program run by the Church’s construction department, which helped me improve my carpentry skills. As a carpenter, I had the opportunity to work in missionary apartments and Church facilities, where I could render service and earn income from contractors.
The second is the perpetual education fund which allowed me to complete my undergraduate studies before being able to pay for graduate studies on my own.

I witnessed this truth during a particularly difficult week on my mission. Everything seemed to be going wrong: I wasn’t getting along with my companion, people we had been teaching had suddenly stopped talking with us, and the weather was extremely hot.
I felt like God had forgotten me. As I was walking down the street in the blazing heat, I thought: “How could you forget about me? It’s so unfair. I’m trying so hard!” And in that moment, a drop of water hit me in the eye—right between my eyebrow and glasses. At first, I was so annoyed that I didn’t even consider the cloudless sky. And then, seconds later, another drop of water hit me in the same spot. I stopped and looked up, and the words “Jacob, I haven’t forgotten you” entered my mind and heart.
I began to cry. I knew those words and raindrops were a message from Heavenly Father. I felt His perfect love for me and for all of His children. I was reminded of who I was and that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ would never abandon me—or any of us.
Now when I am struggling to remember my divine identity, I ponder this experience to remind myself that I, and all of Heavenly Father’s children, have great worth.

This is a silly example but humor me: when I was in graduate school, we had a group of friends who played flag football every Saturday. We had some great athletes on that field, and the competition was often fierce. One winter, my friend and I decided to train every day and be ready to “shock” our buddies with our increased speed and athleticism. Several times a week, we met to run sprints, perform plyometrics, and practice other drills. After months of preparation, our excitement to play was built up. And it paid off! My friend had a “rival” on the other team. They lined up against each other, and it was so fun to see the surprise on the rival’s face when my friend blew past him with shocking speed!

When our children were young, our family motto was “We work before we play.” We told them we could do all the playing they wanted, but the work—chores, homework, music practice—had to be finished first. They would often roll their eyes when we offered that reminder.
But as they grew, they expressed gratitude for that principle, and now since becoming parents, they continue to do so. When our grandson was two years old, we went to Tacoma, Washington, to tend him while his parents went out of town. One day I was having so much fun with our grandson that I suggested we go outside and play after lunch. He said, “Grandma, we work before we play.”
In the Church, we often talk about work: missionary work, temple work, family history work, building temples, building the kingdom of God, the work of salvation, the Creation, the Restoration, and eternal progress. All of these require work. God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, exemplify perfectly the principle of hard work.
God said, “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). The prophet Isaiah wrote, “But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand” (Isaiah 64:8). Think of it! Everything we are and all we enjoy as sons and daughters of God are the result of His holy work! The Savior worked out our salvation by paying for our sins through His atoning sacrifice in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross at Calvary. “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Luke 22:44).
Our Heavenly Father invites us to become more like Him. One way we can do this is to give our best and honest effort in education, employment, homemaking, and developing our talents. Good, honest, sweat-producing labor is refining. It can develop character and strengthen bodies and minds. The Lord told Adam and Eve, “Cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life” (Genesis 3:17). President Joseph Fielding Smith (1876–1972) taught, “It is contrary to the law of God for the heavens to be opened and messengers to come to do anything for man that man can do for himself.”
And Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles testified:
“A consecrated life is a life of labor. Beginning early in His life, Jesus was about His Father’s business (see Luke 2:48–49). God Himself is glorified by His work of bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of His children (see Moses 1:39). We naturally desire to participate with Him in His work, and in so doing, we ought to recognize that all honest work is the work of God. …
“God has designed this mortal existence to require nearly constant exertion. … By work we sustain and enrich life. It enables us to survive the disappointments and tragedies of the mortal experience. Hard-earned achievement brings a sense of self-worth. Work builds and refines character, creates beauty, and is the instrument of our service to one another and to God. A consecrated life is filled with work, sometimes repetitive, sometimes menial, sometimes unappreciated but always work that improves, orders, sustains, lifts, ministers, aspires.”
Many of us wonder how we can help those who are suffering more than we perceive ourselves to suffer. When we respect and participate in the sacred blessing of work, we are able to help others. Elder Robert D. Hales (1932–2017) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said, “The purpose of both temporal and spiritual self-reliance is to get ourselves on higher ground so that we can lift others in need.” And in the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin says, “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).
As welfare and self-reliance specialists in the Church’s Wasatch Front Service Mission, my husband and I are blessed to work to help local leaders and members. Elder Hales explained that “the welfare plan is an integral part of the plan of salvation” and that “the scriptures provide the spiritual framework for the welfare plan.”
When we work hard in our fields of labor, live within our means, save for an unforeseen difficulty, and pay tithes and generous fast offerings, we collectively become the Lord’s storehouse. “And all this for the benefit of the church of the living God, that every man may improve upon his talent, that every man may gain other talents, yea, even an hundred fold, to be cast into the Lord’s storehouse, to become the common property of the whole church” (Doctrine and Covenants 82:18).
The Savior is the perfect example of hard work and self-reliance. In the great Intercessory Prayer, He prayed, “I have glorified thee on the earth: I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do” (John 17:4). Our Redeemer worked out our salvation alone. And His work today is hastening. He said, “Behold, I will hasten my work in its time” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:73). He gives us the opportunity to work with Him and to have a purpose in the labor we do and that which we are able to share with others because of our hard work.
In the mid-1980s, my husband and I were newly married and getting ready to move away to law school. We were worried about having enough money to make the move. We had always been self-reliant and did not want to ask our families for help, and the amount we needed was large. We had been praying about what to do. Out of the blue, I was commissioned to do a large art project for the college we attended. It would pay exactly what we needed. This experience was a direct blessing of paying tithing. But it was also something more. The Lord blessed me with the opportunity to work for that money. He gave me a way to earn it myself, and He honored my agency. I could have turned down the offer. I had a full-time job and a major Church calling, but I made the time and completed the project. We paid our own way to move.
I testify that the Lord wants and expects us to work and to be self-reliant. It is His way. Work and self-reliance are true principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Now that my husband and I have served seven years in the Wasatch Front Service Mission, more than ever I have tremendous respect for our Heavenly Father. He wants to help His children, but He knows it would not be good for us if He were to do for us what we can do for ourselves.
Our son is a new hematology-oncology doctor. He has had the blessing of obtaining all his medical school education and training through a scholarship from the United States Army Medical Department (AMEDD). It has provided 100 percent of his tuition, housing costs, and expenses and even a small monthly stipend during medical school. When he was working hard to qualify for that scholarship and fearing the possibility of having to take out six-figure loans if he did not, I remember a conversation we had. I will never forget what he shared. My son told me that he knew it would all work out somehow because he was committed to paying tithes and fast offerings while he was in medical school.
He wanted to know he was doing everything he could to qualify for the Lord’s help with the large task he was setting out to accomplish. His work ethic has since been tested to its limit, but he is a good example to me of never being weary in well doing (see Doctrine and Covenants 64:33). Even with his busy hospital schedule, he has happily accepted heavy Church assignments, and he and his wife and little family have been blessed.
I testify that the Lord will bless us with the power and strength we need to work hard and be self-reliant, if that is what we desire. Our Father in Heaven honors our agency, and when we show Him we want to be like Him, He shows how to do it, and He helps us to be successful. We honor God and His Son, Jesus Christ, when we follow Their example of honest and worthwhile labor.
The author lives in Utah.

On the eve of my wife’s and my baptism in 1996, family members and friends tried to prevent it. We endured persecution from relatives who severely criticized our family, saying we had traded our family for the Church and they no longer loved us. Eventually our friends completely abandoned us. Then came difficulties associated with unemployment and with illness.
On the other hand, my family and I felt better with each visit to church. At each class the Spirit was stronger. The members were supportive, and the bishop visited and encouraged our family. We knew from our own experience that people who criticized the Church were wrong. The Church was doing us much good. We learned about Jesus Christ. We learned to love and serve. We gained an eternal perspective. In spite of the appearance that everything had turned against us, nothing could change the fact that we had asked the Lord about the truthfulness of the gospel and He had answered our prayers.

When faced with difficult adversity and trials many ask, "why me Lord?" I know that I did during one of my trials earlier in my life. I remember crying to the Lord pleading with Him when I faced this trial. This was the first time that I and my family had faced a major financial crisis in my life.

I had a small successful business with ten employees. I was a roofing and waterproofing contractor here in Hawaii. A trade that I had learn from my father since I was ten years old. Every weekend, holiday, and summer in my teenage years I would work for my father’s roofing company. This was a hard profession and I am thankful to my father that he taught me the blessings and the principles of hard work.

By the time my father had planned to retire, his company had grown to be one of the largest roofing companies here in Hawaii at the time. He had always hoped that I would take over the family business. He asked me to leave my small successful business and come over to his company to manage it and become part owner of it. I discussed this move with my wife and we saw this as a wonderful opportunity of growth and to continue his legacy. So I left my small business and took over as general manager of my father’s company. As often happens in the construction industry, his roofing company was strapped financially when I joined them. My father had exhausted his and the company’s resources to borrow money and the company owed a lot taxes.

After discussing the situation with my wife we decided to take out a large mortgage on our home that I had built, and loan the money to my father’s company. We had confidence in my ability to turn things around financially for the company since I would now be the one managing it. Unfortunately, it was a bigger task than we had anticipated. We were forced to shut down the company, in doing so I had lost the money that we had loan to the company, and I knew that it was inevitable that we would lose our home, displacing my young family.

After shedding a lot tears while praying, I remember experiencing a beautiful peaceful feeling that came over me as our Heavenly Father let me know in a very personal way that all would be well, and that this trial was for my growth and development. It was a long and hard trial but I and my family were able to endure it well.

I will never forget how happy I felt when I was baptized. My father baptized me, and my siblings sang songs for me. My mother asked if I wanted to bear my testimony, and I told her that I wanted to sing a Primary song I had learned that expressed how I felt. I sang, “I like to look for rainbows whenever there is rain and ponder on the beauty of an earth made clean again” (“When I Am Baptized,” Children’s Songbook, 103). While I sang, I felt as if my heart would come right out! I will never forget the faces of my family and how I felt that day. It was the most special day of my life.
Esther F., age 8, Costa Rica

“Genealogy is addicting,” the Rexburg, Idaho, resident says. After school and on weekends, you’ll find the sixth grader working as a family history assistant at the Upper Snake River Valley Family History Center at Ricks College. Because he’s so young, some folks find it hard to believe he knows so much. After all, family history is a bit perplexing. That is, until they ask him a question and discover he really does know what he’s talking about.
“Once I’ve helped them, they will sometimes come in and ask, ‘Does Josh know something about that?’” he says. Even one of his trainers, Elder Melvin Dickerson of Rexburg, a former full-time family history missionary, was a bit skeptical at first. “We don’t run a baby-sitting service,” he said more than once.
But Elder Dickerson quickly changed his mind when he discovered Josh was serious about the work. “He learned very fast,” he says. “He just gobbled everything up. He was incredible, and still is.”
While the use of computers is sometimes a stumbling block to some researchers, Josh is adept. Dickerson adds, “He is still a young child in some ways, but when it comes to family history, he knows how to do it and how to run the computers.”

John Taylor’s youth had prepared him well for a lifetime of dedicated service to the Lord. He sensed even when he was young that a guiding hand was over him, watching and protecting him until he was ready to fulfill his foreordained mission in life. As he left Liverpool in 1832 to join his family and eventually his life’s work in the kingdom, he experienced a severe storm soon after the ship was out to sea. Undaunted, he recalled, “So confident was I of my destiny that I went on deck at midnight, and amidst the raging elements felt as calm as though I was sitting in a parlor at home. I believed I should reach America and perform my work.” (Life of John Taylor, p. 29.) That work and the formative influences of his youth in accomplishing it stand as a remarkable example for us to the present day.

In the eastern part of the city, about 20 youth from the Colcapirhua Ward, Cochabamba Bolivia Los Alamos Stake, meet each day at 5:30 a.m. for a simple breakfast before seminary begins at 6:00.

“I get up early because I know that if I come to seminary it’s going to help me have the Spirit and be closer to God all day,” says Jenny Linares, 18.
Breakfast usually consists of bread with sugar and mate, an herbal drink, or api, a drink made with ground purple and white corn. But the youth come to seminary more for spiritual nourishment than for food.
“It’s fun to come to seminary,” says Luly Bravo, 14. “The youth brighten your day in the morning. We come to learn more about our Father in Heaven and His Son.”
“The truth is that the four years of seminary have made me think a lot about a mission,” says Diego Díaz, 18. “That’s why I am graduating from seminary, so I can go on a mission.”
Franz Condori, 20, of the Arocagua Ward, Cochabamba Bolivia Universidad Stake, agrees. He was baptized four years ago and plans to serve a mission soon. “When I became a member of this Church, I had already set the goal to go on a mission, and the four years in seminary have helped me a lot,” he says. “I know the scriptures we always read and study will help me answer the questions I might be asked when I become a missionary.”

I will share one of these experiences from my second book of Exodus with you. Right before leaving on my mission during my second semester of college at BYU-Provo I took an education class. It had no grades, and I was given the opportunity to design my own assignments for learning. At first, I despised the class and attacked the teacher with the laws of Pharaoh that I had become accustomed to. I attacked him like the task master you see whipping the children of Israel in the classic Ten Commandments movie. I jeered that he was a lousy teacher because he wasn't communicating exactly what he expected out of us. I told him that without points, how could I be motivated to learn, let alone the hormone-ridden teenagers I was preparing to teach. No human could ever get through junior high, high school, or college on intrinsic motivation alone. I even exiled myself from the class to avoid being tormented by being freed. I sought to find solace back in Pharaoh's Egypt which I had adopted. Imagine the great Exodus scene in that same Ten Commandments movie as the children of Israel are fleeing through the parted Red Sea and me running back to Egypt as fast as I could.

Shortly after my self-imposed-exile return to Egypt I went to my instructor's office to drive my final, well-rehearsed Pharaoh's nail into his instructionally irrational coffin. He charitably listened and weathered my railings with a smile and said, "You have put great effort into proving my ideas wrong, and I respect and admire that level of effort, but have you given equal effort to proving that these ideas I'm sharing with you might work?" The Holy Ghost pricked my heart--I know it was more than my conscience. I took with me my golden calf for a few more semesters until I had a sincere change of heart. Even in courses that were run like my beloved Egypt I began designing my own assignments and seeing if instructors would accept them, and to my surprise when they were good they frequently did. I started refusing to treat each course I took as a stand-alone learning experience to pass through by merely meeting the criteria of the instructor but began to integrate my learning into much larger wholes. I even stopped saying that I had to do homework and replaced that phrase with "I am going to go learn some more." Guess what? Now, I am privileged to work at a divinely guided but humanly run university that occasionally feels like Egypt, and I get the opportunity to bring out of bondage those who want to learn intrinsically. What a journey! What has yours been like?

I recall flying from San Francisco to Sydney, Australia. I noted a young man in a nearby seat reading the book Joseph Smith, an American Prophet. When opportunity presented itself, I spoke to him. I told him that I had read the book, that I had known the author, and asked him what his interest was. He said, among other things, that he had an interest in prophets and that this matter of a possible modern prophet had intrigued him. He had picked up the book at the library. We had a lengthy conversation in which I bore my witness that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet. Not only did he speak of things to come, but more important, he was a revealer of eternal truth and a testifier of the divine mission of the Lord Jesus Christ.

I spoke the other day with one of the most enthusiastic converts I have ever met. We were in Chicago for a big meeting which brought together some 20,000 members of the Church in the great United Center, where the Chicago Bulls play basketball. Randy Chiostri, a new member of the Church, drove us about while we were there. All during those long rides in the Chicago traffic he was talking about missionary work, praising the Church as the most wonderful institution in the world, talking of the gospel and the plan of salvation as the greatest thing that had ever come into his life. Randy’s introduction to the Church came when he dated Nancy. He took her to dinner. On the first date she said she drank no liquor. She would not take wine. How curious, he thought. She said it was against her faith. Smoking was also against her faith. Her faith became the subject of their conversations.
He married her on the one-year anniversary of that first date. But he could not accept her religion. It took him almost eight years to overcome his doubts.
One pair of missionaries after another taught him. Finally, he was touched by the Spirit. He was baptized last March.
He visited the Hill Cumorah. He visited Nauvoo. He said: “I visited 17 temples. I visited them on the outside but not on the inside.” He went to every temple he could get to. He now looks forward to the day that he will visit them on the inside. That first inside visit, in Chicago, will be in April. He will receive his endowment, and then the next day he and Nancy will be sealed.
After his baptism, Randy was immediately put to work. He was ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood. After being a member for about nine months, he was ordained an elder in the Melchizedek Priesthood. He loves the Church. He is consumed with his love of the gospel. It has become the major interest of his life. He cannot stop talking about it. Each night and morning he gets on his knees and thanks the Lord for the wondrous thing that has come into his life.
I learned a few things from Randy as I listened to him. The first is the tremendous power of the example of a member of the Church. It was Nancy’s firm but quiet stance on that first date concerning no liquor and no wine which caught his attention. The missionaries worked on him through the years, but she was the key that unlocked his heart to a love for the Lord, and his mind to an understanding of the plan of salvation.
The second thing I learned is that you never give up when there is the slightest spark of interest. It took him nearly eight years to come into the Church. His mind was open, but there was a lurking fear over taking so bold a step. He was setting aside the traditions of his forebears and stepping into something new and strange and difficult to understand.
Third, he was put to work immediately following his baptism. His bishop saw that he had something challenging to do. Was he qualified to handle the assignment? The bishop gave that question very little attention. He saw an eager new convert, and he gave him a responsibility on which to grow.
The bishop saw that he had friends in the Church. The first, of course, was his wife, Nancy, and there were a few more able people who could answer his questions and listen patiently when he did not understand. He was not left friendless, to grope through the dark. He had those who were willing to take the time to talk with him.
Does he know all there is to know about the Church? No, of course not. He is constantly learning, and with that learning is a growing enthusiasm.
He is excited about what he has found. He is eager to receive the higher blessings of the temple. His testimony has become strong and secure within less than a year’s time. I believe he is a 100 percent convert, and his enthusiasm is contagious. We need more of this kind, and we need many more to work with them.

In the late 18th century, Catherine the Great of Russia announced she would tour the southern part of her empire, accompanied by several foreign ambassadors. The governor of the area, Grigory Potemkin, desperately wanted to impress these visitors. And so he went to remarkable lengths to showcase the country’s accomplishments.
For part of the journey, Catherine floated down the Dnieper River, proudly pointing out to the ambassadors the thriving hamlets along the shore, filled with industrious and happy townspeople. There was only one problem: it was all for show. It is said that Potemkin had assembled pasteboard facades of shops and homes. He had even positioned busy-looking peasants to create the impression of a prosperous economy. Once the party disappeared around the bend of the river, Potemkin’s men packed up the fake village and rushed it downstream in preparation for Catherine’s next pass.
Although modern historians have questioned the truthfulness of this story, the term “Potemkin village” has entered the world’s vocabulary. It now refers to any attempt to make others believe we are better than we really are.

Mia Maid president Allison Wright and her classmates hand-made and delivered invitations to all the homes within the ward boundaries. Over 300 people attended, with approximately 100 being nonmember children and their parents. “It’s a great chance for us to associate with and get to know those we don’t usually meet through Church activities,” said Marianne Miner. “I was in charge of the punch and chips, and I got a big cauldron-looking pot, put dry ice in the punch to make it smoke, and asked one of my neighbors to dress up like a witch to serve it.”

Let me tell you of one last example of another young man. We’ll also call him Raymond. I think the family of this young man exemplifies the love, confidence, and trust that must exist in family relationships.

Raymond found himself quite ill as he was serving his mission in a distant land. He had many digestive problems and the mission president was considering sending him home due to his poor health. To compound his problems, one day, while out walking, he found himself with a severe pain in his left foot. He couldn’t even walk to the discussion he and his companion had planned. They went to the doctor who said, “It’s just arthritis caused by the damp weather. If you’ll stay off your foot for two or three days the pain will pass.”

The young man did so. He also had a priesthood blessing, but nothing happened. He was a district leader at the time, and his district had just begun to baptize in a city where there had not been baptisms for some time. He could not understand how the Lord could allow him to remain down for those days when his district was just beginning to have success.

A week went by, two weeks, three weeks, a month in bed. He was still incapacitated with no change in the pain in his foot. Finally, he was taken to the mission home in the capital city where more suitable medical facilities were found.

An X-ray was taken. One of the bones in his foot had been fractured or broken and had then grown back together incorrectly. The doctors talked of either breaking the bone again or giving him some special electrical treatments that were supposed to fuse the bone correctly, but it would take another month. He was down again, going for treatments twice a day. The treatments didn’t make any difference. This problem, on top of his other medical problems, had him somewhat discouraged, and again the consideration came to send him home.

One morning, after nearly three months, he stepped out of bed to find absolutely no pain in his foot. He stepped on the foot gently, then stamped on it, then ran with his companion for a mile that morning, totally healed. With great joy he returned immediately to the field to work.

Two more weeks went by. A letter arrived from home that said, “Dear son,” and then followed a paragraph or two of chastisement for not having told his family about his ailments in the mission field. They indicated that they had learned of his problems from another missionary, a friend of his, who had written home. In great love they wrote, “We have begun a fast and constant prayer for you as a family. We also have placed your name on the temple prayer list and hope that it might be of help to you.”

As he tearfully read the letter and examined his journal, he found that the day that he had risen from his bed healed was the very day the letter had been written, the very day his family began praying and exercising faith for their distant son.

How could that be, across 7,000 miles? I suppose no man knows, but the reality of the power of faith cannot be denied.

Illustration by Dilleen Marsh
We were new in the Dunwoody Ward when we first met Billy. As sacrament meeting started, I noticed him sitting at the sacrament table.
After the ward partook of the bread, Billy began the sacrament prayer on the water, but he stuttered and struggled for each word. The often-normal distractions and sounds of small children died down. Everyone seemed to pause, waiting on Billy.
The words of the usually fluid and brief sacrament prayer came out slowly, each word drawn out and painstakingly pronounced. At first, I felt embarrassed for the young man. My heart filled with compassion for him.
Then everything changed.
As he finished the first phrase of the prayer—a prayer that I had heard a thousand times—a new feeling came over the room. An intense quiet settled over us, and we knew we were in a holy place. Billy was not just reading the words of the prayer but was sincerely praying to his Heavenly Father, who was answering with an overwhelming outpouring of the Spirit.
The feeling of God’s love for this young man was palpable, and we felt privileged to be part of this uniquely spiritual ordinance.
Billy continued and eventually completed the prayer. I didn’t want him to finish because I wanted that sacred feeling to continue. But the intense gift of the Spirit continued as the sacrament was passed to the congregation. It was a true renewal of covenants to repent, be better, and serve the Lord more completely.
At the end of the meeting I walked up to the sacrament table to thank the young man. I saw that he had Down syndrome. He stuttered, “You’re welcome,” with a great big smile.
Years later in a different ward, I still remember Billy. Sacrament meetings are more meaningful as I strive, like Billy, to reach out to Heavenly Father with simple, fervent faith and prayer.
The author lives in Florida, USA.