Gospel Story Finder

The first time Zack Clark of Phoenix, Arizona, played the cello, magic happened. His fingers pressed awkwardly upon the neck of the instrument as he pulled the bow across the strings. He was nine then and the notes he played were simple. But as the cello replied in its raspy baritone, Zack’s heart resonated to the sound. He had played with toy instruments as a child, but his sister Maegan played a real cello, and when he followed her example, it unlocked an inner symphony, a melody so complex and sweet he yearned to hear it again and to share it with others.
He quickly learned, however, that the notes of such a symphony do not migrate from the mind to the fingers without hard work. Under the guidance of a teacher who saw his potential, Zack was soon devoting four to seven hours each day to practice, immersing himself in a demanding discipline. He became principal cellist of school orchestras, the Metropolitan Youth Symphony, and the Phoenix Symphony Guild Youth Orchestra. At 14 he was named All-State cellist and performed solo at Arizona State University. He was invited to the World Cello Conference and was principal chair at major music camps including Brevard and Tanglewood. With his high school orchestra, he played at Carnegie Hall in New York City. At 18 he was selected principal cellist for the National High School Honors Orchestra. He auditioned for and received instruction from some of the best cellists in the world.
Music wasn’t everything, though. He had rhythm on a skateboard and an aptitude for folding origami birds. He remembered the birthdays of his family and friends, and he volunteered at a museum. Like many musicians, he was also good at math and found he could make most computer software sing. As a freshman at the Cleveland Institute of Music and Case Western Reserve University in Ohio, he began a double degree program in cello performance and computer engineering.
But it was while playing the cello that he could hear the symphony in his heart, and he kept perfecting his performance so that those listening could hear it too. And now as he performed, in the back of his mind he kept hearing another theme, quiet but constant. It sang of restoration, truth, angels, and light, of prophets, revelation, and the Holy Ghost. And even though his love of music had already filled him with a personal symphony, this new refrain brought clarity and fire to his soul. It reminded him of a favorite song:
We are as the army of Helaman.
We have been taught in our youth.
And we will be the Lord’s missionaries
To bring the world his truth.
(“We’ll Bring the World His Truth,” Children’s Songbook, 172)
The symphony in his heart was swelling, and as he heard the music in his soul, he knew the time for a full-time mission had come.
Many at school thought Zack was crazy. Other students studying with the same teacher had graduated to become the principal or assistant principal cellist with symphonies in Chicago and Seattle. Was Zack now abandoning a similar future for a strange cause?
It wasn’t strange to Zack. “For my entire life I’ve wanted to go on a mission,” he said. “It’s not a sacrifice, because I know I’ll be blessed. I keep thinking of the power of that phrase—‘to bring the world his truth.’ Sure, I’m setting aside the cello for two years, but I know it’s what the Lord wants me to do.”
Soon he received his call to the Scotland Edinburgh Mission, and as he read the letter from the prophet, the symphony sounded again. This time the melody reminded him of the Savior. “When you study music, you always want to learn from a master, someone with a higher knowledge than you,” Zack said. “As I read my call to serve, I realized that on my mission I would be serving the true Master, and that in His service, there is always much to learn.”
These refrains were also familiar—faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, obedience to the commandments, gospel study, service to others, sharing the truth. They were the themes of his life.
Today, as Elder Zack Clark is serving faithfully in Kirkcaldy, on the east coast of Scotland facing the North Sea, his personal symphony continues. Elder Clark and his companion, Elder Stoddard, just taught a husband and wife who both chose to be baptized. “If you want to hear music in your soul,” Elder Clark says, “just share the gospel. Watch someone embrace it, and as they learn and grow, the melody in your own heart will be sweet.”
“In the Book of Mormon there’s a scripture I just can’t get out of my head. Moroni has been addressing the unbelievers. He confirms that there is a God; he says that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever; that miracles were done in ancient times and still are done today. All of that is very logical. Then there’s this statement in Mormon 9:21: ‘Behold, I say unto you that whoso believeth in Christ, doubting nothing, whatsoever he shall ask the Father in the name of Christ it shall be granted him.’
“To me that scripture says that if you are righteous and have unwavering faith in the Lord, He’ll do anything for you if it is according to His will. On my mission, if He needs me to move a mountain to find somebody, I’ll be able to do that because of Him. When I get back, if He really wants me to play my cello again, then He’ll allow me—with the right determination—to get back in shape with my instrument.”
Imagine a concert featuring 20 of the best young musicians in a major metropolitan area, all performing barefoot! That’s what happened during Zack Clark’s Eagle Scout service project. He organized a concert to benefit children in need of footwear, and the musicians decided to emphasize the point by going without shoes or socks while they were on stage.
Admission to the concert was a pair of new shoes or socks, and 235 pairs of socks, 91 pairs of shoes, and other articles of clothing were donated for a local children’s home. Scouts from Zack’s troop distributed flyers promoting the event, served as ushers, prepared snacks, set up for the concert, and delivered items to the shelter, contributing more than 700 hours of service.
By studying music, Zack learned something that is now helping him in the mission field.
“Hard work is the key,” he says. “In music, you work on techniques and basics. Through practice and repetition, you learn obedience. You rehearse so much that when you perform, musicians say, ‘You have the music in your muscles.’ That means you’ve studied it so much it just pours out of you; you’re free to do your best. It’s the same way with the gospel. You study until you are so full that the Spirit can guide you to say the right things. Then when you teach, you know what to say.”
To hear Zack in performance, go to www.newera.lds.org, and click on the link.

Hironui Johnston, 16, and his sister Merirani, 15, spend a lot of time at the Papeete Tahiti Temple.
They aren’t performing baptisms for the dead, except for a couple times each year. They aren’t even inside the temple. They’re on the temple grounds—not gardening or doing some other service project—just sitting or walking around. But always looking.
“I love to see the temple,” says Merirani. “We have a lot of good memories here.”
Hironui and Merirani go to the temple grounds because of how they feel there. It’s a place where they can get away from the world.
“Our neighborhood isn’t bad, but there are some bad kids there,” says Hironui. “So we spend time here. It feels so good to be on the temple grounds.”
Sometimes their whole family comes, whether for a family home evening activity or just to spend time together.
“Sometimes when we aren’t getting along, we come here to put things right again,” Hironui says. But even when the Johnstons aren’t at the temple, the temple is part of their lives.
“I think we have a picture of the temple in every room in our house,” Hironui says. “It’s beautiful. It reminds us that our family can be together forever. Seeing it helps us feel the same peaceful spirit.”
“We watch our parents go to the temple,” says Hironui. “We see them living worthy to go. We see how their temple attendance blesses us, and we choose to follow them.”
That love for the temple, which began with the Johnstons’ parents, has been passed on to Hironui and Merirani. And it won’t end there. Their actions can pass it on to the next generation.
“I want to have children someday,” says Merirani. “I want to teach them that the temple is the house of the Lord and that if we are faithful we can be together forever because of the temple.”
“The blessings of the temple go both ways. This generation is being blessed today. As they grow and do the work for their ancestors, those blessings reach into the past. And as this generation begins raising the next, those blessings will roll on into the future.
“The Lord has given us a real blessing by building His house in our land,” Merirani says. “But the greatest blessing is that through the ordinances of the temple, our ancestors and families can be sealed together, and we can all live with our Father again. I would do anything for that blessing.”

“Do you remember the time we had the late frost and Papa knew it was coming, so he didn’t plant early like everyone else did?” I asked.
“Yeah, I remember. Their crops froze and ours didn’t.”
“He tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“How does he know when it’s going to freeze?”
“I wish I knew. Maybe Heavenly Father tells him,” I suggested.
“Maybe so,” Ed agreed thoughtfully. “I can’t figure it out any other way.”

Praying for Missy
One day after a big storm, my friend’s cat, Missy, was missing. We looked all over, but we couldn’t find her. I said that we could pray. My friends weren’t sure how, so I showed them. We all knelt down and each said our own prayer. Then we got up and started looking again. A girl ran over to us and said she found Missy! I was happy that I shared part of the gospel with my friends.

Jason and Alanea Hanna faced many financial questions when Jason lost his job. Should they relocate and find another job? Should they try to find a job where they were currently living? After considering several options, they asked the most important question of all: “What would the Lord have us do?”
“We studied talks by prophets and apostles on topics like debt, budgeting, and saving to try to figure out what the Lord wanted us to do,” Alanea explains. “We knew that the Lord’s plan was the best plan and that we would be blessed if we followed it.”
After prayer and contemplation, Jason and Alanea both decided to return to college and finish their bachelor’s degrees. They took out minimal student loans to pay for their education, and both worked full-time to provide for their other expenses. They coordinated their work schedules to ensure that one of them was home with their children. They budgeted carefully, spending their money on the essentials and eliminating fast food, cable TV, and new clothes. Jason even rode his bike to school and work to limit the costs of gasoline and car insurance.
Now Jason works as an engineer. Alanea also completed her degree and is currently fulfilling her responsibilities as a full-time mother of five children. They still live within their means, budget carefully, pay tithing, and live according to the financial counsel of Church leaders. “We’re grateful for the trial and the experience,” Alanea says. “It ended up being a great blessing in our lives and taught us that the Lord will always bless us if we are obedient.”

The next day we visited St. Catwg’s church and we were met by Father Powell and his lay reader Carolynn Corbin, who showed us around this very impressive 2,000-year-old building. While chatting, my brother Richard discovered miracle number nine that Carolynn was a Parry and quite likely a very close cousin of ours. We exchanged emails and discovered that we did indeed have a common ancestor. This led to a wonderful afternoon tea and the uniting of another branch of Welsh and American lines. After just a few minutes with this family we knew we had met before.

When my wife, Rosana, and I married two years after my mission, we were sealed in the temple with a vision of raising our own eternal family. To do so, we worked together to create family traditions like the ones our parents had taught us, all focused on the Savior, His teachings, and the teachings of His modern-day prophets.
Today our children are raising their children with the same gospel principles of happiness. For us, family is everything because we understand the centrality of the family in God’s plan.
As a General Authority, I had the blessing of sealing my three children to their spouses in the temple. Looking into their eyes the moment they knelt at the altar in the temple was a beautiful experience. I could see my posterity being blessed by the same gospel principles my parents had taught me and that Rosana and I had taught them. I could see those blessings continuing in future generations. And I was reminded of who makes it all possible.

A true story from the USA.
Savannah pulled the blankets over her head. Today had been a really bad day.
During school today, Savannah couldn’t focus on anything. She had felt tired, frustrated, and sad. There was a heavy weight in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. By the end of the day, all she wanted to do was crawl under her desk and hide.
Lately, Savannah felt sad almost all of the time. Her friends had tried to cheer her up, but sometimes Savannah didn’t want to be with them. They always seemed so happy. Sometimes she thought they would be happier without her.
What’s wrong with me? Savannah wondered. Why can’t I be happy like everyone else?
She felt as cold and lonely as the gray clouds outside. And now she just wanted to sleep.
Savannah heard her bedroom door open.
“Savannah,” Mom said, sitting on the edge of the bed, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Savannah said. “I’m just tired.”
“Are you sure?” Mom asked. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m OK,” Savannah said.
“All right.” Mom stood up. “Just remember that you can talk to me about anything. I love you.”
Savannah stayed in bed until dinner. That night, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her brain wouldn’t stop thinking about everything.
The next day she still felt worn out. It was another long day. Savannah got home from school and sat at the kitchen table. She sighed and looked out the window. It was snowing again.
“Savannah?”
Savannah turned and was surprised to see Grandma come into the room.
“Hi, Grandma,” Savannah said. “What are you doing here?”
Grandma sat down. “Your mom wanted me to come,” she said. “She’s worried about you.”
“I’ve just been really tired. I’m fine, though,” Savannah said.
Grandma smiled gently. “Did I ever tell you about the summer Grandpa and I moved?”
“I don’t think so,” Savannah said.
“I was sad all the time,” Grandma said. “I wanted to be happy, but I just didn’t care about anything. I felt so lonely.”
“But you had Grandpa and my mom.” Savannah looked down at her shoes. “Why would you feel lonely?”
“I couldn’t figure out what was happening,” Grandma said. “I had never felt that way before. I eventually went to the doctor.”
“What happened?”
Grandma put an arm around her. “I learned I have depression.”
“Oh, so you just felt sad?” Savannah asked.
“No, depression is more than just feeling sad,” Grandma explained. “My sadness didn’t seem to go away. I struggled to do all the things I normally did. And I had a hard time connecting with other people, even my own family. I really needed help.”
Savannah looked up. “What kind of help?”
“The doctor explained what was wrong, and we made a plan together to help me feel better,” Grandma said. “But sometimes I still felt sad. I spent a lot of time praying. When I was lonely, I imagined the Savior sitting beside me. I felt better thinking about Him.”
Savannah looked at the snow outside and shivered. “I feel sad a lot too. I try to feel happy, but sometimes I just can’t, and then I’m mad at myself for feeling that way.”
“I know, honey.” Grandma gave Savannah a hug. “That’s how I feel sometimes too. But you’re not alone. I love you, your parents love you, and Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love you. They understand your pain and will never leave you.”
Maybe Grandma is right, Savannah thought. I’m not alone. The weight in Savannah’s stomach didn’t feel quite as heavy.
“I think I should talk to Mom,” Savannah said. “She wants to help me too.”
“That’s a great idea.” Grandma took Savannah’s hand.
Savannah smiled and leaned on Grandma’s shoulder. She didn’t feel quite so cold and lonely anymore.

Early in my service as a member of the Council of the Twelve, I was attending the conference of the Monument Park West Stake in Salt Lake City. My companion for the conference was a member of the General Church Welfare Committee, Paul C. Child. President Child was a student of the scriptures. He had been my stake president during my Aaronic Priesthood years. Now we were together as conference visitors.
When it was his opportunity to participate, President Child took the Doctrine and Covenants and left the pulpit to stand among the priesthood to whom he was directing his message. He turned to section 18 and began to read:
“Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. …
“And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father” (vs. 10, 15).
President Child then raised his eyes from the scriptures and asked the question of the priesthood brethren: “What is the worth of a human soul?” He avoided calling on a bishop, stake president, or high councilor for a response. Instead, he selected the president of an elders quorum—a brother who had been a bit drowsy and had missed the significance of the question.
The startled man responded: “Brother Child, could you please repeat the question?” The question was repeated: “What is the worth of a human soul?”
I knew President Child’s style. I prayed fervently for that quorum president. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity and then declared: “Brother Child, the worth of a human soul is its capacity to become as God.”
All present pondered that reply. Brother Child returned to the stand, leaned over to me, and said: “A profound reply; a profound reply!” He proceeded with his message, but I continued to reflect on that inspired response.

At the beginning of 2017, I was serving as a full-time missionary in the beautiful city of Duékoué in western Côte d’Ivoire. One morning, after completing my personal study guided by Preach My Gospel, I reread a passage inviting missionaries to pray continually about the truths they already knew so their testimonies could be strengthened. With that thought in mind, my companion and I left for our first appointment of the day, followed by some proselyting.
That afternoon, we visited our elderly friend, Brother Tahin, who was in his 70s. After the usual greetings and an opening prayer, we reviewed the previous lesson, discussed his commitments, and introduced the message we had prepared.
Just as we finished the introduction, a pastor—an acquaintance of Brother Tahin—posed a mocking question, doubting the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. I looked at my companion, who was still learning the language, and he immediately began to respond.
While he spoke, I prayed silently for him to find the right words. I also prayed for myself, remembering my study that morning. With sincere intent, I once again asked about something I already knew: “Heavenly Father, is the Book of Mormon true? Please confirm it to me again.”
The moment I finished my prayer, a gentle yet firm voice that was not my own spoke within me, accompanied by a spiritual warmth: “If the book is not true, why are you defending it?”
The joy and peace that followed this heavenly whisper deepened and clarified my testimony. When I spoke after my companion, I bore a powerful and renewed witness, with assurance and humility. My words carried such conviction that the pastor who had asked the question remained speechless.
When I finished, he did not speak again. Brother Tahin then said: “My children, I know today that you are true men of God. Your message is the truth. The calm and love with which you speak, even when people resist, show that you serve Jesus Christ. This book, the Book of Mormon, is true. And despite my eye problems, I promise I will make the effort to read it.”
That day was a heavenly moment for us. As we walked home, my companion rejoiced, and we both felt overwhelmed with gratitude. I recorded this experience in my missionary journal, and it has stayed with me ever since.

The second-generation Church members in the Kreiberg family are solid evidence of President Andersen’s assessment of the fortification that comes through temple marriages. For Inge Kreiberg the strongest proof of this is in their third child, Caroline.

“We wouldn’t even have Caroline if we hadn’t joined the Church,” Inge explains. Like most Danish women, Inge felt she was through with having children—“I thought two kids and a job were enough. Then one evening as I prepared to teach an institute class on women’s role in giving birth, I stopped abruptly. I knew I wasn’t practicing what the lesson taught.”

She recalls believing the lesson was teaching the truth. She knew she needed to study and pray about motherhood, and her study became intense and personal. She decided that, for her, having another child was right—a choice of no small significance in Denmark. Now Finn, Inge, and Caroline, eleven, live in Odense, in a sturdy house with lots of leaded windows, converted from a derelict railway station where Finn had played as a boy.

I remember my Laurel teacher saying recently, “If you want to love someone, do something for him.” As she said that I was so touched by the Spirit that I knew it had to be true. I’d been struggling with a relative for quite a while, so I decided to experiment with this idea on her.

Well, to make a long story short, I now consider my sister my very best friend. The love I feel for her is inexpressible. I gave her all I could give, and the Lord, in turn, gave me the strength to forgive and the spirit to love.
Sharlene Weatherman, 18Roy, Utah

In the spring of 1837, Erastus and other missionaries revisited places from his previous trip and entered new areas of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, “baptizing and organizing a number of branches.” In Bridgeport, Pennsylvania, he was pelted with rotten eggs and driven from town. At Leitersburg, Maryland, he held a 12-hour discussion with a Campbellite preacher, one of many long theological debates the young missionary said he won during his trip. In Pennsylvania two sisters, nearly dead, were healed by his priesthood administration. After preaching 147 sermons in seven months and baptizing about 40 people, he returned to Kirtland on December 5, 1837, a month after his 19th birthday.

“Do you see her yet, Okorie?” Bernice asked.
Eight-year-old Okorie stood on his tiptoes and peered down the sandy Nigerian road. No motor could be heard over the rustling palm trees and the calls of the birds in the nearby rain forest. He strained his eyes to look as far down the road as he could, hoping to see a cloud of dust signaling the approach of their mother’s car.
“No, Bernice. Nothing yet,” Okorie said as he sat next to his little sister in the shade of the school walls. “I’m sure everything is all right. Maybe she is just busy with baby Ikechi.”
Bernice nodded. “Or maybe she went to the market. I hope she brings home lots of yams again. They’re my favorite.”
Okorie’s stomach growled at the thought of yams. He hoped Mum would hurry—it wasn’t like her to be this late picking them up. Everyone else had gone home long ago. The school compound was many kilometers from the nearest village of Owerri, and with nobody but his sister around, Okorie was starting to feel a little scared.
“Okorie! Look what I found!” Bernice held up a worn leather ball.
Okorie grinned broadly. Here was one way to help time pass! Eagerly he joined his sister in kicking the ball around the yard.
They were having so much fun they didn’t notice the approach of their car until their mother parked it across from the school yard. As she got out of the car, the two children ran to greet her.
“Okorie! Bernice! I am sorry you had to wait such a long time for me!” Mum said, hugging them close. “I was trying to do too many things in one day, and the time slipped away from me. Now we need to hurry! I’ve left baby Ikechi with Sister Anya’s daughter much longer than I planned. Ijeoma is only three years older than you, Okorie, and it is probably hard for her to watch a baby so long by herself.”
The two children jumped into the old car. “Look at all those yams!” Bernice squealed in delight as she peered into her mother’s woven shopping basket.
Mum smiled. “If we hurry, we can have dinner ready before your father comes home.” She turned the key to start the engine.
Click.
Their mother’s smile faded. She turned the key again. Once more there was only a click instead of the familiar roar of the engine. She tried without luck for several minutes to get the car to start—but they were stuck.
“What’s wrong with it, Mum?” Bernice asked. “Are we out of fuel?”
“No, no—I filled the tank only an hour ago.” There was concern in her voice. “But I did drive many kilometers today. Perhaps the engine has been working too hard and needs to rest a few minutes.”
“What should we do while we’re waiting?” Okorie asked.
“Well, I do have my Book of Mormon here. Should we read our scriptures now?” their mother asked.
The children agreed. Okorie liked listening to Mum’s voice as she read the scriptures. Sometimes the words confused him, but if he listened very carefully and tried to understand what the words meant, he always felt good inside. Mum said that this feeling was the Holy Ghost and that if he always tried to do what Jesus Christ would have him do, he could have that feeling all the time.
They started reading in Ether chapter 12 about several different prophets who were able to do wonderful things because of their faith in Jesus Christ. They read about Alma and Amulek, Nephi and Lehi, and Ammon and his brothers. Okorie remembered most of those names from his Primary class. One story—about the brother of Jared moving a whole mountain by faith—especially caught his attention.
“Mum, did the brother of Jared really make a mountain move?” Okorie asked.
“It was not the brother of Jared who moved the mountain. It was Heavenly Father, who was answering that prophet’s prayer. I am certain that the brother of Jared had a good reason to move that mountain. He knew he couldn’t do it himself, so he prayed to Heavenly Father. Heavenly Father knew that what the brother of Jared was asking was good and that he truly believed Heavenly Father would help him. So Heavenly Father answered his prayer.” Okorie thought about that as his mother finished reading.
“It’s been a really long time,” Bernice said. “Should we try to start the car again?”
They all held their breath while Mum turned the key. When the engine failed to start, she put her head in her hands.
“What are we going to do?” Bernice asked quietly.
Mum shook her head. “There is no one to help us for many kilometers, and it’s too far for you children to walk. It will take hours for me to walk there and return with help. Poor little Ijeoma—I have left her so long by herself with the baby!” Tears began to trickle down Mum’s cheeks.
Bernice and Okorie glanced at each other with wide eyes. What could they do?
“Mum,” Okorie said quietly, “I know what we can do.”
“What?” she asked.
“Let’s say a prayer! Heavenly Father will make the car start—just like He moved a mountain for the brother of Jared!”
“Prayers aren’t always answered right away, Okorie,” Mum sighed. “Someone will need to fix what is wrong with the engine before it will work again.”
“But if Heavenly Father can move a big mountain, don’t you think He can make our little car work?”
Mum looked at Okorie. She could see he was very serious.
“All right, my son, we will pray. Who would like to offer the prayer?”
While Okorie and Bernice talked, Okorie saw his mother bow her head and close her eyes, saying her own private prayer. When Mum opened her eyes, the two children told her they had decided they would each say a prayer.
Bernice went first. “Heavenly Father, we are stuck out here all alone because of our broken car. Please bless baby Ikechi to be safe until we get back. And please teach Ijeoma so she will know how to take care of her. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Now it was Okorie’s turn. “Heavenly Father,” he began, “please bless the car to start. We know Thou canst do it. Everybody else has gone home—there is no one else to help us. Please, Heavenly Father, help us start the car and get home safely so Mum can take care of us and the baby. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
“Amen,” Mum said. She got in the car, and with a flick of her wrist, she turned the key.
Rrrruuuummmm! The engine sprang to life as if nothing had ever been wrong with it. Bernice and Okorie bounced up and down with joy.
“Okorie! You did it! You did it!” Bernice exclaimed.
Okorie stopped his celebration long enough to shake his head solemnly and say, “No, I didn’t do it—Heavenly Father did.”
Mum hugged her children tightly. “Yes, Okorie, Heavenly Father did it. But I think it was your faith that really pulled us through. You never doubted. Both of you have made me a very happy mother.”
They said a prayer of gratitude and then drove home, singing all the way.

Natasha was awakened by the bird’s singing. When she opened her eyes, the room was full of light. Outside, a sparrow sat on the little board Dad had put up as a feeder for birds. The sparrow spread its feathers and cleaned them, singing, “Chik-chirik-chik!” as if to say, “Don’t you see what a beautiful morning it is? How warm the sun is!”
Natasha felt happy, as if it were a holiday. Then she saw her new white dress with pink ruffles and smiled. Of course! It is a special day! It’s Sunday, and we are going to Church, she thought.
Natasha’s parents had recently been baptized, and next year she would turn eight and could be baptized herself. She loved going to church. Everybody there was friendly. She had already learned how to read the hymns and had memorized her favorites. She loved to sing them with Mom or when she was home alone.
Today Mom’s friend Valya was going to be baptized. That was why Mom had made the beautiful new dress for Natasha. “We will all congratulate Valya, and you will give her flowers. It is going to be a real celebration!” Mom had said when they purchased some beautiful blooms the day before. She was as excited as if the flowers were for her.
The door slowly opened, and Mom looked into the room. “You are not asleep?” she asked quietly.
“A bird woke me up!” Natasha said and laughed.
“What a beautiful day!” Mom turned to Natasha. “What shall we do now?”
“Let’s pray!” Natasha said happily, rolling out of bed.
They knelt, and Mom prayed out loud, Natasha silently repeating every word after her. Mom thanked Heavenly Father for the beautiful morning, for His love, and for the scriptures, and she asked for protection for Dad, who was out of town on business.
After they prayed, they read the scriptures together. Then, while Natasha washed up, Mom made hot chocolate. They never hurried on Sunday mornings. From their first Sunday as members, they had followed a plan Mom had thought of to make Sundays special: “Let’s all wake up a little early, enjoy slowly getting ready, then walk to church. We need no more than twenty minutes to get there.” Natasha always liked the walks to and from church. It was a time to talk about their blessings and the gospel.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, Natasha looked at herself in the beautiful dress and white knee-high socks with pink bows that were a present from Dad. Her shoes matched the pink borders on her dress. Everything looked perfect. “I look like I’m ready to go to a ball,” she giggled as she twirled around.
Mom handed her the flowers for Valya, and Natasha looked like a girl on a postcard. It was the prettiest dress she had had for a long time. Mom was also in a pretty white blouse and a full skirt. What a perfect day this would be!
They left their apartment, and while Mom was locking the door, Natasha saw her friend Sveta on the stairs, a new kitten in her hands.
“Oh, he’s so cute!” exclaimed Natasha.
“Do you want to see him jump?” Sveta asked. “Watch!” She quickly set the kitten down and dragged a scrap of material with a string tied to it in front of the kitten. “This is his ‘mouse.’”
The kitten jumped up and started hilariously chasing the ‘mouse.’ Sveta barely had time to pull it away from him. All of a sudden the ‘mouse’ was on Natasha’s dress. The kitten jumped up to get it, but he couldn’t hold on, so he slid down one of Natasha’s white socks and scrunched it up.
Sveta laughed happily, and so did Natasha. But as Natasha pulled up her sock, all the laughter stopped. There was a big run in it!
Natasha looked at Mom with tears in her eyes. Sveta mumbled an apology, then quickly picked up the kitten and took off down the stairs.
“Please don’t be sad because of such a little thing,” Mom said as she unlocked the door. “We’ll find something just as good for you to wear.” She quickly found another pair of white socks in Natasha’s drawer. “These will look fine with your dress.”
Natasha quickly changed, and they left again.
“It rained a little during the night,” Mom said, pointing to the small puddles on the pavement. She took a deep breath. “The air smells good, don’t you agree?”
Natasha also took a deep breath, and agreed. The beautiful day put her back in a good mood.
By the time they got to the corner, Natasha was singing. Then a young man on a motorcycle sped by, hitting a muddy puddle in front of them and splashing it on her face and dress. She heard her mom say, “Don’t open your eyes, Natasha, until I wipe them off for you.”
When Natasha opened her eyes and saw muddy water dripping off her dress, she didn’t want to believe it, so she closed her eyes again. “Why, Mom? Why? We prayed and we read the scriptures and we wanted this to be a perfect day for Valya’s baptism. Why is everything going wrong? Doesn’t Heavenly Father love us?”
Mom quickly put her finger up to Natasha’s lips. “Please don’t think that.” She knelt beside her daughter. “Prayer is not like money that you pay at the store and right then get something for yourself. Sometimes we don’t know why things happen, but usually we can use what happens to us to learn how to be more like our Heavenly Father.”
“It’s his fault!” Natasha angrily looked in the direction the motorcyclist had gone.
“I hope that he didn’t do it on purpose. Look—the puddle is very small. Who would have known that it is deep? Either way, we need to forgive him and go on. If we hurry home and change, we won’t be late to the meeting.” She smiled and took Natasha’s hand, and they ran home.
Mom had to change into another skirt and blouse too. Natasha put on a blue dress with small white flowers and plain blue socks.
Mom gently rinsed off the bouquet of flowers in the shower: “Look—the flowers got even prettier!” Mom smiled happily, as if the accident were a blessing.
Natasha also smiled and thought how great it was that she has such a good and kind mom. They ran to the trolley and made it to the meeting on time.
As they started to sing the first hymn, Natasha forgot all her problems. In front of her sat a thin, pale girl named Oksana, who was often ill. Natasha knew that Oksana’s life was hard. She lived with a little brother, who was also often sick, and their elderly grandma. Mom had given them a lot of her and Natasha’s clothes and, when she could afford it, bought them groceries too.
Natasha saw that Oksana’s dress was very old. It had been worn out in the sun so much that the designs on the shoulders had all faded away, and next to the collar was a carefully sewn-on patch. Natasha looked at her own dress. Even though she wasn’t wearing her new dress, she was very well-dressed compared to Oksana. Suddenly Natasha felt uncomfortable and her cheeks became hot. She thought of how ungrateful she had been for all the clothes she had. And she knew that she would have felt really uncomfortable around Oksana, who had so little, if she’d worn her new, white dress.
After sacrament meeting, Natasha quietly whispered to Mom, “Do you remember when you sewed my white dress, you said there would be enough material left for another one? Could we make a dress for Oksana?”
“Good thinking.” Mom quietly kissed Natasha’s cheek. “There’s even some pink ribbon left, but we will talk about it at home, OK?”
Natasha couldn’t answer. Her throat got all tight and her chest got really warm, so she could only nod.
For Primary, all the children went into another room with Sister Melikovná. They had a lesson, then sang hymns, drew, and learned a poem for family home evening.
After church was the baptismal service for Valya. Mom gave a talk about being grateful for the Church and the blessing it was in her life. Natasha realized that she didn’t need to be wearing a beautiful dress in order for a baptismal service to be perfect. She only needed to have a happy and grateful heart.

Levi M. Savage was a Latter-day Saint pioneer called to settle eastern Arizona. Year after year, he labored faithfully in his assigned area. Finally, after his large family was reared, he wanted a little rest. He would not ask to be released from his mission, but he allowed his son to contact President Joseph F. Smith (1838–1918) in Salt Lake City to advise that at age 70 Brother Savage was still “doing day’s work on the Woodruff Dam, walking six miles [9.5 kilometers] to and from the place of his work.” The emissary asked whether Brother Savage had fulfilled his mission and could now leave and live in another place, but added that “he is willing to stay provided we think it is best for him to do so.” The President of the Church sent word that Brother Savage should “consider himself free to make his home elsewhere.”

After receiving that word, Brother Savage remained for an additional time until the new dam was built “to get the water into the valley again.” Only then did Levi Savage feel relieved of the duty imposed on him by priesthood authority in 1871, 47 years earlier (quoted in Nels Anderson, Desert Saints [1942], 359). What a heritage of faith and service for the spiritual inheritance of his posterity and others!

After more than 50 years, I can still hear the words of a tournament official: “Sorry, son, we must disqualify you for signing an incorrect scorecard.” My disqualification came as a result of my mentioning to the official that I needed to correct my score. For weeks I said to myself: “Why didn’t I remain silent? Besides, the error was an innocent mistake. The total score was correct.” Though my performance was good enough to find me in the winner’s circle, I left the awards presentation empty-handed. And that’s the way it is.

To get to a remote branch in Saetsiwi on Tanna Island, Elders Nalin and Toa drove to and then hiked up a mountain for three hours, eating nothing but the coconuts they found along the way. But when they arrived at Saetsiwi, they couldn’t find the branch president. And then the rainstorm started.
Rain filled the rivers, which Elder Nalin knew would soon be impassable and dangerous. The elders got back to their truck as quickly as possible, knowing that they had to get off the mountain. The two missionaries crossed the first river safely, but at the second river, the truck got stuck. They pushed and even got others to help push, but the truck didn’t move.
Elder Nalin noticed another river flowing into theirs and just how much bigger it was. He later said, “Our river was still small, like it was waiting for us to get out.” But that wouldn’t last forever.
Both elders grew up in Vanuatu, where vehicles are usually rare and extremely expensive. So, for them, abandoning the truck didn’t seem like an option. But the water level was up to the door handles.
They called President Messick and asked what they should do.
President Messick replied, “Thank you for giving me a call. It’s OK! Leave the truck where it is and find a safe place now!”
Elder Toa and Elder Nalin faced challenges as they tried to reach the people on the island of Tanna who wanted to be baptized—including a sudden rainstorm that flooded the rivers they were crossing.
Elder Toa, the last one out of the truck, later said, “I looked in the back seat for my scriptures and the baptismal forms, and there was nothing. And I thought maybe Elder Nalin already took them.” If the forms were lost, the missionaries would have to go back to Éfaté to get new ones.
Then one of the people who had come to help started shouting. Elder Toa did not understand what he was saying. But Elder Nalin did since it was his native language. He yelled to his companion, “Get out of the truck, something is coming!”
Elder Toa climbed out the back door because the water had already reached the window in the front. The moment he got out, the river swept the truck downstream. As they watched the truck flow downhill, they could see the scriptures and baptismal forms in the back seat.
Elder Toa later said, “While we were still in the river, we called on the power of God to protect our scriptures and baptismal forms. We had faith that He could save them according to His will.”
“After our prayer, we knew everything was going to be fine,” Elder Toa later said.
The district president called and told Elders Toa and Nalin that the Saetsiwi branch president, the same man they couldn’t find earlier, had found their truck. The river had pushed it 820 feet (250 meters) from the main road, but while the engine was wet and the truck had to be towed for other repairs, the outside of the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. However, their lesson books, notebooks, and pamphlets were drenched and destroyed. “You could not read some of the words,” Elder Toa said.
But sitting on top of everything else, their scriptures and the interview forms were somehow dry and undamaged.
Though Elder Toa and Elder Nalin had abandoned the truck in the flooded river, it was later found. Though the engine needed repairs, the truck wasn’t dented or scratched. But most miraculous of all, the most important things they carried inside were undamaged.

I know that the challenge of placing the Book of Mormon in the heart of a person is not easy. Some years ago Sister Sorensen and I were preparing to go to Eastern Canada on a mission. We were in a restaurant in Salt Lake City just prior to going to the airport. A young man walked up to us and introduced himself. He was originally from Halifax, but had joined the Church and moved to Salt Lake City. He was married, with a small family.
He said, “My father, Raymond Gaetz, lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He is not a member of the Church. He does not understand the Church. He does not seem happy with me for having joined the Church. I would like to help him. I have sent him all kinds of information over the years. Some he has accepted, others he has sent back either unopened or marked ‘not interested.’
“I have here a copy of the standard works in a recently published quad. I think he might accept it if you would take it to him.”
We accepted the challenge. When we arrived in Halifax, I called Mr. Raymond Gaetz and told him who I was and that I had a gift from his son. I asked if I could present it to him. He asked me a little about his son and then said, “I have no interest whatsoever in the Book of Mormon. Please pass it on to someone else.”
I told him I couldn’t; it had his name engraved on it. I asked if he would please accept it from his only son.
He said, “No,” and hung up.
Soon thereafter I decided to pay Mr. Gaetz a visit. I was met at the gate of his apartment by a guard. The guard was kind enough to connect me with Mr. Gaetz on the intercom. I told him I would like to give the gift to him and bring him greetings from his fine son. He said I could leave the book with the guard but not to bother him further.
A few days later he called me and said, “I noticed this is an expensive book. I’m a frugal Scotsman, and I can’t stand to see it go to waste. Please come and get it. We can have my name removed and you can give it to someone else.”
I made an appointment to see him. When I arrived, the guard told me I was to take the book with me. I took the book, returned to the office, and put it on my desk to remind me that I had a work yet to complete.
Sometime later my wife, Verla, came into the office, saw the book on my desk, smiled, and said, “My goodness, what kind of a missionary are you? Haven’t you delivered those scriptures to Mr. Gaetz yet?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been trying, but without much success.”
She responded with, “Oh, come on now. You’re just too busy.”
I was a little irritated, so I said, “Well, Verla, why don’t you try?”
She said, “All right, I will.”
She took a different approach entirely. She called their home, and fortunately Mrs. Gaetz answered the phone. After a friendly conversation, Verla invited Mrs. Patricia Gaetz and her husband to the mission home for dinner. She accepted Sister Sorensen’s invitation. About halfway through the dinner I was getting anxious to present the book. Sister Sorensen gently nudged me under the table, so I knew better. After the dinner we had a lovely discussion, but we never mentioned the Book of Mormon.
A few days later Mrs. Gaetz called and invited us to their apartment. We had a delicious lunch and talked. This went back and forth for some weeks. Then one day I again mentioned to Raymond, “Remember that wonderful book your son has given you? I surely would like to present it to you.” This time Raymond accepted the book.
We continued to meet together socially, and then one day I said, “Raymond, it’s time for you to receive the missionary discussions.”
“No, I’m not interested. But I’ll tell you what I will do. I walk every day at noon in the park for my health, and I would be happy to hear about the Book of Mormon through your lips. We’ll talk religion.”
So I arranged my schedule during the lunch hour to walk in the park two or three times a week with this good brother.
Our friendship deepened during these discussions. I soon asked him to be baptized. He said, “No, I’m not interested in being baptized.”
“Well, you’ve heard the gospel, you know it’s true, you need to accept it. You’ve been reading the Book of Mormon; now take it into your heart.”
“I haven’t the faith yet to accept the Mormon Church.”
One day a video came to the mission office entitled How Rare a Possession. You may have seen it. It’s about a man who found a copy of the Book of Mormon without a cover or introductory pages in a trash can in Italy. The man read the book, accepted it, lived its principles, and spent almost a lifetime trying to find out more about the Church. He eventually found the missionaries, was baptized, and came into full fellowship. The video projects him later in his life going to the temple in Switzerland. It is a true story.
I gave the video to Raymond. A few days later, during our usual walk, it was obvious that he had changed. He said, “You know that man that found the Book of Mormon was not unlike me. I do have hope in eternal life. I’ve changed my mind. I’m ready to be baptized.”
“Do you have a testimony of Jesus Christ?”
“You know I have.”
“Are you willing to give up smoking?”
“I can do it.”
“Are you willing to give up drinking?”
“I will.”
“Ray, you’re a wealthy man. You’re a captain of industry. You’re a man of influence, a man of substance and means. Are you willing to pay a full tithe on all that money you make?”
“I certainly am.”
“Good. Have you told your wife, Patricia?”
“No. That’s your job.”
We went right to his home. I told her of his decision and invited her to join him in baptism.
She said, “I can’t be baptized. You know I’m a good Catholic. Neither can he. He still smokes and drinks, and he won’t pay all that tithing.”
You know something; he did. He gave up his coffee, tea, alcohol, and tobacco, and he paid his tithing and rejoiced. When he came up out of the waters of baptism, he said, “Now I want to go to that temple.”
“Brother Gaetz, the temple is a year away. You’ll have to work hard and prepare yourself spiritually.”
“That’s what I want to do.”
A year later Sister Sorenson and I had completed our mission. We flew to Washington, D.C., to meet Raymond at the temple. As we walked out of the temple after several sessions, he looked up at those beautiful spires and made an unusual remark.
“I feel like I’m the last one in and the first one out.”
“Brother Ray, what do you mean?”
“Well, recently I have contracted terminal cancer. I don’t know how long I have to live. I am just so grateful that I have been able to come here to the house of the Lord. I feel very much like the man that was portrayed in the film who lived out his life and finally found the temple.”
Sometime later I was at Raymond’s side when he died, one of the happiest men I have ever known.
Recently a note written by Ray Gaetz to his young grandson fell into my hands. It is dated October 5, 1989, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada:
“My Dear Grandson,
“I am sending you this Book of Mormon that I hope will be your lifelong companion. The teachings of this book will have a profound influence on your life. If you follow these teachings, you will be the recipient of many blessings. May our Father in Heaven bless and care for you.
“With love, Grandad.”
So it is that Brother Raymond Gaetz came to understand that “come unto Christ” is not a nondescript, lovely phrase. The Book of Mormon teaches us of the power and glory and gift of God and the desire to come unto Christ.

(President of the Church since 2008)
When President Thomas S. Monson was 10 years old, his parents gave him an electric train set for Christmas. Tommy was happy until his mother showed him a less-expensive train she had bought for a neighbor boy. Tommy noticed a car that his train didn’t have. He was jealous, and he convinced his mother to let him keep the train car. When they went to surprise the neighbor boy with the gift, Tommy realized how selfish he had been. He ran back home and got the car, plus another car from his own set, to give to the boy. He felt joy when he focused on giving instead of getting.