Gospel Story Finder

I could see the young deacons losing interest as my mission companion talked. He was explaining the importance of doing missionary work at their age—planting seeds with their friends.
One young man finally spoke up, “What can I do? I’m only 13. My friends aren’t interested in the Church, and even if they were, their parents wouldn’t let them join.” My companion persisted with the young men, but my mind drifted back to when I was about 12 years old.
Suddenly I came back to the deacons in front of me. I don’t know if it made much difference to those boys, but I was able to say it was an active young man their age who brought me into the Church. I told them they could and should do missionary work. They could plant seeds with their example, just as Chris had done.

(50) Several deacons say why they admire President Monson.

Although illiterate, Elizabeth knew the value of education and found creative ways to learn. She was determined to give her children more opportunities to elevate themselves than she had received. For example, she had her young sons read the daily newspaper to her, and they became good readers by the time they started school.

Today my cousin Janie moved to our neighborhood. She’s the daughter of Uncle Ben, who never had much to do with the rest of the family. She has red pigtails and buck teeth and wears glasses that look like the bottoms of pop bottles. I saw my friend Lola frowning at her during recess, and later Lola walked the long way around to avoid meeting her. That’s when I knew that I had a real problem.
You see, Lola is the most popular girl in my class. She has silky blond hair and blue eyes, and if you’re friends with her, everyone likes you and you get to go to her house and play with her dolls and eat chocolate ice-cream sundaes. I’ve been her friend now for two months. It’s been the best time of my life, and I don’t want it to end.
I avoided Janie the whole day, but when it was time to go home, she caught me as I was sneaking through the hedge behind the school building.
“Hi, Ginger,” she said.
“Hi,” I answered, peeking over my left shoulder. Lola was nowhere in sight.
“I haven’t seen you for a long time—not since we went ice-skating on the creek at Grandpa’s. Remember?”
I shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Do you think we could do that again?” Janie kicked at a rock with her toe.
I noticed that the ends of her shoes were scuffed and that there was a hole in one knee of her leotards. It made me wonder how I’d be dressed if I didn’t have a mom. “Maybe, sometime. I have to go home now,” I told her, then hurried away and left her standing behind the hedge with her hands clasped behind her back, looking at the ground.
Things went much better than I’d expected. I had been afraid that I’d have a terrible time getting rid of Janie and that she’d follow me around like a lost pup. She didn’t. She stayed away from me, and the only thing that I noticed was that every once in a while I would glance up and see her staring at me from behind those thick glasses. But she seemed fine, so I didn’t worry.
Then Sister Bates was sick one week and couldn’t teach our Primary class, and Brother Bates took over. He’s a stake missionary and always says things like “Feed my sheep” and “Love one another.” On this particular Sunday he told us a couple of stories and finished off by quoting what Jesus said in Matthew 25:40: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” I thought that that sounded all right, but it was ridiculous to think that it applied to me and Janie. After all, I was very kind to her—I didn’t tease her or pull her hair, like some of the other kids did.
But then things changed for the worse. On Saturday morning Uncle Ben called. He had to go to Edmonton for the day, and he wondered if Janie could stay with us. “Of course,” Mom said. “Bring her right over.”
Now, Saturday morning is when I always go over to Lola’s to play with her dolls. She has every kind that you can imagine. I used to count them, but I gave up long ago because she keeps getting more and some of them look so much alike that you can’t be sure if you’ve already counted them or not.
When I put my sweater on that morning and headed for the front door, Mom asked, “Aren’t you taking Janie?”
“I guess so,” I mumbled.
By the time we were halfway to Lola’s house, I had worked out a plan: I would leave Janie standing on the corner, go up the block to Lola’s house, tell her that I wasn’t feeling well, and ask if I could please come back and play another day. Then I would go back and get Janie and go home again.
We got to the corner. “Wait here a minute, Janie,” I said. She had on a brown dress and gray socks and those scuffed black shoes.
“Will you be long?” Janie asked.
“No,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
As she watched me walk away, my feet got heavier with every step I took. “This is dumb,” I said firmly to myself. “I’m not doing anything wrong.” But my knees started to hurt. Then a lump began to grow inside of me, and it worked its way up to my throat till I could hardly swallow. I stopped. “You’re being silly,” I muttered to myself. “If you keep this up, you’ll ruin everything.” Then I turned around and cupped my hands around my mouth and called to Janie.
Lola answered the door. She was wearing a pink silk dress with ruffles on the sleeves and the neck and a ribbon around the skirt. Her hair was done in French braids, not a strand out of place.
I looked Lola right in the eye. “This is my cousin Janie,” I said. “We’ve come to play.”

He was deeply concerned about the well-being of others and praised the good he saw around him. He trusted others and encouraged them to strive to be disciples of Christ. Addressing a “stir in the Church” involving a young woman who had emigrated from England and was living in the home of Heber and Vilate Kimball, Joseph wrote a letter to Vilate. With grace and understanding, the Prophet encouraged Vilate: “I do not desire that you should turn the young woman out of doors; far be it from me to advise any such course. I think it would be well for her to remain with you … because I think that your advice may be a blessing to her, and your counsel and advice such as will tend to her future welfare and happiness.”8 Joseph trusted Vilate; she had chosen faith and continued in her belief that Joseph Smith was a prophet.9 Joseph’s trust in Vilate paid dividends as Vilate’s influence and counsel helped the young woman weather the storm and commit to her faith.

The war over, Alexandria planned to return to her parents. But she became ill, spent two weeks in a hospital, and missed her train. That was a blessing, she now realizes; returning Russians faced great struggles, and living conditions were much better in Germany than in Russia. While living in a displaced-persons camp in 1945, Alexandria met a handsome American soldier on a blind date. After months of courtship, they were married, and two years later Sergeant Ronnie Graybeal brought his young bride to the United States.

First known as “The Tyrolese Song,” it was introduced to the world by four children—two sisters and two brothers—who went to Leipzig one year and sang it so beautifully that the music director of the Kingdom of Saxony asked them to sing the carol at a concert.

After a hurricane in Florida, USA, Eleanor’s home was damaged. Her neighbors’ homes were damaged too. So Eleanor and her siblings did their own Helping Hands project in the neighborhood. They invited their friends to come along too! Together they helped an older couple clear away a large tree that was blocking their front door. Eleanor helped clear branches out of the way and helped move pieces of the tree as it was cut up.
The neighborhood friends worked hard for days to help clear trash and tree branches from roads, driveways, and yards. When more volunteers came to help after the hurricane, Eleanor gave up her bedroom so they’d have a place to stay. Eleanor said, “I follow Jesus by helping others, and I loved helping with the hurricane cleanup. It made me feel good. It even stopped feeling hard because I felt so happy.”
Eleanor followed Jesus by inviting others to help. Turn the page to read a story about how Jesus served.

I started going to church with some friends in our neighborhood. But then we moved and I stopped going.
In my new school I signed up for seminary. I began reading the scriptures daily. One night it hit me just how much my life needed changing. I had been learning about the gospel, but I hadn’t been living it. I was still hanging out with people who made it difficult to live righteously. I knew I had to get serious about changing my life. The next day I went and talked to Brother Porter, my seminary teacher. He told me when and where my ward met.
The next Sunday I went to church but sat down in the back of the chapel. It took a while to make friends because of my reputation, but I kept going each week because I knew that was where I was supposed to be. For my 15th birthday, my other grandma gave me a gift certificate for a haircut and some new clothes. A few days later I was ordained a teacher.

In 2013, members in Sarodroa built this small wooden chapel to worship in. Rakotomalala is happy to help make needed changes to the building.
As the Church continued to grow, the members in Sarodroa needed a new chapel. With a new chapel next door, Rakotomalala and others work to transform the old wooden chapel into classrooms and a bishop’s office.
Rakotomalala and Razafindravaonasolo stand in front of the new chapel in Sarodroa. This chapel, made of concrete and brick, was built by the members.

Through obedience we build spiritual strength that sustains us during times of adversity. My friend and counselor Joy F. Evans tells of such a time in her life. She had four young children and was expecting her fifth child. The much-anticipated day of birth arrived—about six weeks early. They had expected to have “a” baby, but they had twins instead—Michael and Amy, premature and very small.

They had already lost one child earlier, and Joy, being a nurse, felt certain those babies were also going to die. She was even afraid that her own lack of faith would contribute to their dying, and she wanted desperately for them to live!

In her words, “I think it was the first time I couldn’t say ‘Thy will be done.’ I just couldn’t say it.”

When her husband went home the second day after the babies’ birth, he prayed, not for the babies, but for his wife, their mother. Then a sweet assurance came to her that everything was all right: whatever happened was the Lord’s will. The babies did die, one after two days, and the other after three; but Joy still had her feeling of peace. She could draw from the wonderful reservoir of strength she had developed by keeping the commandments through the years.

Having the babies dressed appropriately for burial was very important to their mother, but they were so tiny that clothes could not be found small enough to fit them. When the Relief Society president came after the second baby died, she sensed Joy’s disappointment in not being able to dress the babies as she would like. The president went home and sewed busily that night. When she came back the next morning, the day of the graveside service, she had a darling little white suit for Michael and a dainty little white dress for Amy.

Peace can come to both the giver and the receiver as we follow the promptings of the Spirit to serve one another.

I was 14 years old when I experienced my first Christmas without snow. My family had just moved from the mountains of Utah to Texas, USA. To me, Texas felt too flat and hot. It was hard to feel the Christmas spirit when I had no friends at my new school and especially when there was no snow on the ground. I felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere, so I often felt lonely and sad.
Despite my gloom, Christmas was only a week away, and I was depending on our Christmas family traditions to lift my spirits. The fun activities my family did together in past years always made me feel so happy. Traditions were a big part of how we celebrated Christmas, so I thought I had nothing to worry about. They were called traditions for a reason, so I knew they had to be kept.
The days leading up to Christmas crawled by slowly. We hadn’t done anything together as a family yet to celebrate, so I was feeling pretty defeated. When Christmas Eve finally arrived, I waited all day for something to happen—anything that would show me that our cherished family traditions could still be kept in our new home. I’m sure I could have spurred these treasured traditions on my own, but I didn’t want to. In a way, I was looking for a sign to show me that the Christmas spirit was still alive.
Day faded to night and I grew more and more upset. Tears welled up in my eyes as my family gathered together to say our evening prayers. My entire home felt cold and empty, even with all of us living inside it. Suddenly, my dad pierced the silence with one question.
“Would anyone like to receive a priesthood blessing?”
My heart skipped a beat. I had worried so much about whether or not we would be putting up Christmas lights or baking holiday cookies that I had forgotten about one very special tradition we did every Christmas Eve—we all received a priesthood blessing. Receiving a blessing from my dad in the past always gave me peace, but not everybody in my family enjoyed receiving one. Sometimes my siblings and my mom would say they didn’t feel like they needed one. I didn’t want to get my hopes up again if everyone else was going to turn it down.
But this time was different. My mom stood up and sat down on the chair my dad had brought out for us.
“I would like one,” she said softly.
We were all very surprised, but my dad didn’t even hesitate. He placed his hands on my mom’s head and began to speak. I could sense how tuned in my dad was to my mom’s feelings and personal struggles. He spoke words of comfort and peace to her during this time of change.
I suddenly felt a burning sensation within my chest—almost like someone had lit a match inside of me. I knew I was feeling the Holy Ghost, even though the burning in my chest wasn’t the way I had always felt the Spirit before. It was like Heavenly Father was speaking directly to me, and it wasn’t even my priesthood blessing!
As my father quietly said “amen” and I opened my tear-filled eyes, I realized that my whole family was crying. We had all heard the Spirit speak to us in a tender and loving way that everything was going to be OK. My mom and dad hugged, and I felt like the raincloud that had been hanging over my head for so long had finally given way to sunshine.
We all received blessings, including me. In my blessing the Lord reassured me He is always mindful of me and wants me to be happy. It gave me feelings of peace and warmth that I hadn’t felt since I moved to Texas.
We may not have kept every tradition that year, but we always remembered how it felt to witness the power of God flow through my dad’s priesthood blessing. I will always remember how it changed my feelings of sadness to peace and joy. I also learned a valuable lesson about the power of the priesthood. When everything around you seems to be going the wrong way, a priesthood blessing can remind you of the Lord’s watchful and loving presence in your life.

One of the most pleasant and productive experiences in my life happened in 1943 as the Japanese war was taking place. I heard Dr. Adam S. Bennion give a lecture on the value of great literature. You can sell the idea of the value of great ideas to anyone. That is, we all believe that we should be acquainted with great human thought. But almost everyone gets away from its benefit by saying that he doesn’t have time to read. To get away from this objection of not having time, Dr. Bennion said, “Suppose that you were going to be a prisoner in a Japanese concentration camp for the next four years and you could take with you the works of any ten authors. Which would you take, and what would you expect to get out of them?” That is, what are the values of great ideas, of great literature? His idea was to take the ten authors you would most like to resemble and then exhaust each one in turn. That is, you would read every thought and consider every idea that a particular author had ever recorded; you would rethink his every idea. The psychologists say that when you run an idea through your brain, it makes a little groove or engram. If you run through your mind the kind of ideas that went through the mind of Shakespeare or Emerson or the apostle Paul or Moses or Jesus of Nazareth, then your brain will tend to respond as their brains did.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Jared muttered to himself as he nibbled on the end of his pencil eraser. He unconsciously ran a weary hand through his black hair and sighed. Straightening the glasses that were perched crookedly on the end of his long nose, he cocked his head to one side in deep thought.
“If the molecular formula of triphosphorous pentanitride has a net electrical charge of …”
“Ring! Ring!” The reverberating sound of the telephone penetrated his thoughts and broke his concentration. Letting the pencil fall from his hand, Jared sighed again, pushed his books aside, and stood up. Maneuvering around the masses of cluttered junk on his floor, he stumbled to the hallway.
“Ring! Rinnnngggg!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he mumbled. “I’m almost th—” He hit the carpet with a thud as his German shepherd pounced on his chest and knocked him to the floor, greeting him with an enormous wet tongue.
“Oh, Wolf! I can’t play with you now!” He pushed the dog off him and rushed to the phone. Waving a scolding finger at Wolf, who still tugged playfully on his shirt tail, Jared reached for the receiver and breathed out a tired “Hello?”
The voice on the other line laughed. “Little out of breath, Jared? What have you been doing? Running a marathon?”
“Not like the one you just ran,” Jared replied as he struggled to keep the cord slobber-free. “Congratulations! It’s just that I’ve got my hands full at the moment.”
“Oh,” Ryan said in mock disappointment. “Well, if you’re too busy—”
Jared’s laughter interrupted him. “Don’t be crazy! It’s just Wolf.”
“Good,” Ryan said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “I thought you were actually doing something important, like polishing your trombone or something.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.”
“I try.”
“Hey, that was a great game last night. What did you have? Five, ten points?”
Ryan coughed uncomfortably. “Well, um. Actually it was 35.”
“What?” Jared teased. “Only 35? Do you think you could put a little effort into it next time?”
Ryan was speechless until Jared burst into laughter. “I’m just kidding! Congratulations. That’s a career high, isn’t it?”
“Thanks. Yeah, it is.”
“And state champs for the fourth time! That’s amazing! Have you had any more offers?”
“Yeah, I have,” Ryan said softly.
Jared recognized the solemn edge in his voice. “Ryan,” he asked, “what’s wrong?”
Ryan was quiet. “Could I come over or something? I need to talk to you.”
“Sure.” Jared was puzzled. “I’ll be here.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll be over in 10 minutes.”
As Jared hung up the phone he was worried. It wasn’t like Ryan to sound so discouraged, and especially after winning the state championship. Basketball was Ryan’s life.
Jared wondered what could possibly be bothering Ryan. Whatever it was, Jared was determined to help him work it out.
Ryan cleared an empty spot before plopping down on Jared’s bed.
Jared looked sheepish. “Sorry my room’s such a mess,” he apologized as he gathered dirty clothes to toss in the hamper. “I was going to clean it, but …” He stopped when Ryan raised a questioning eyebrow.
“But what?”
Jared laughed. “Okay, so I wasn’t planning on it.” He wadded up a towel and threw it at Ryan. “You know me too well.”
Ryan rolled the towel into a ball, took aim, and shot it into the open hamper.
“Nice shot.” Jared cleared the books off his desk chair and moved it over by the bed. “Now. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Ryan was quiet for a minute. “It’s the offer I’ve received.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Ryan placed his hands behind his head and fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Nothing. That’s the problem. It’s perfect.”
Jared was clearly puzzled. “I don’t understand. Who’s it from?”
“Oh … just the team ranked number one in the nation.”
“North Carolina?” Jared jumped out of his seat and danced around the room. “North Carolina! Ryan, that’s terrific!”
“Yeah, I know. They’re offering me a full-ride scholarship. If I accept, I’ll probably start next season.”
Jared sat back down and whistled. “Wow!”
Ryan sat up excitedly. “That’s exactly what I thought! Man, to think of me playing for a team like North Carolina. It’s just unreal! But …”
“But what?” Jared asked, thinking he already knew the answer.
Ryan was hesitant. He leaned forward and looked at his friend. “This is something I’ve wanted to do my whole life. And I’d do it, in a second, if it weren’t …”
“It’s your mission, isn’t it?” Jared said knowingly.
“Yeah,” Ryan admitted. “I always said that I’d serve a mission. But it seems like everything’s changing now.”
“I see.”
Ryan continued. “Before, playing basketball beyond high school was, I don’t know, a dream that I never thought would happen. But you’ve seen me, Jared! I’m playing better than ever before. I’m at the top of my game, and now I have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I can’t pass it all up, can I?” He paused and looked away.
Jared asked softly, “Are you willing to sacrifice your mission for a dream?” He sat quietly for a long time before asking, “Why do you play basketball, Ryan?”
Ryan shrugged. “Because I like to, I guess.”
“And because you’re good at it?”
“It makes it more fun, I suppose.”
Jared seemed dissatisfied. “Is that all?”
“I like the way it makes me feel.”
“And how’s that?” Jared gently prodded.
Again Ryan leaned back and studied the ceiling. “It’s hard to describe. It makes me feel good to know that I’ve achieved something, and that I was able to do it because I’ve worked hard.”
Jared nodded in approval. “Well, then you’re playing for the right reason.”
Ryan sat up and rolled his eyes. “You’re not helping me any, Jared!”
Jared laughed. “I’ve known you for a long time, Ryan. Unfortunately,” he added teasingly. “I know that you’ll make the right decision.”
“You’re right,” Ryan sighed as he stood up. “Thanks for talking to me, Jared. I’m going to go shoot a few hoops and think.”
“Hey, Ryan,” Jared called as he leaned out his door to find his friend battling with Wolf in the hallway. “Just one more thing. You can do the right things, but you need to do them for the right reasons.” Ryan looked up from scratching Wolf’s head.
“Yeah, I guess,” he said.
“Hello?”
“I’m going,” Ryan announced.
“Going where?” Jared asked as he pulled the shoe from Wolf’s mouth.
Ryan was impatient. “To the moon and back.”
“Right,” Jared said sarcastically.
“No, Jared, be serious. I’ve made my decision.”
“And …”
“And, I’d really rather tell you in person. Can I come over?”
“If you think you can get past the slobbering bodyguard in the hallway, go right ahead.”
Ryan laughed. “I think I can manage.”
Jared shook his head. “I can’t believe it! Well, yeah I guess I can. But what made you decide to give up North Carolina’s offer? I thought it was everything you ever wanted?”
“I thought so too. At first. But then I changed my mind. It wasn’t that hard of a choice I guess,” Ryan admitted.
“Well, what took you so long then? It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen you. I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth or something.”
Ryan smiled. “Deep down I knew that serving a mission was the right thing to do,” he looked up at Jared. “But I just had to be sure I was doing it for the right reason.”
“And are you?”
“Absolutely.” When Ryan saw Jared’s puzzled expression he laughed and explained further. “I guess I have you to thank for it. It had something to do with what you said about sacrificing my mission for basketball. I like the way basketball makes me feel, but I love the way the gospel makes me feel even more. Making a basket is a great feeling, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling I get when I read my scriptures, or go to church, or help someone. I mean, like last summer, when I baptized my little sister—that was the greatest feeling in the world.” He smiled at the memory.
“The prophet said all worthy young men should serve a mission. I’ve thought about that all my life. It isn’t up to me to decide whether I should serve a mission. It’s just up to me whether I’ll answer the call.” He paused for a moment, then continued.
“I’ve been so blessed to have the gospel in my life, and I want to share it with everyone I can.” He shook his head. “I almost passed up the opportunity to serve the Lord, and then I realized that I’d be passing up way more than that. All the experiences I’d have, all the people I’d meet, and all the wonderful feelings I’d get knowing that I was doing the Lord’s work. Basketball’s just not worth all that. Besides,” he added with a grin, “there’s always P-days.”
He looked up to see Jared studying his face intensely. “Do you mean to tell me that you, Ryan Wilson, Basketball Star, will be satisfied playing basketball only on P-days?” Jared looked suspicious. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
Ryan laughed. “I’m going on a mission, Jared. I’ve got an appointment to see the bishop for a mission interview. He has a better offer.” He punched Jared’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go polish your trombone.”

Several Church leaders from Tahiti who recently visited Taenga were impressed by the strong feeling of security on the island and the overwhelming spirituality that exists among the entire population. “This is what paradise is all about,” commented Georges Bonnet, the Church’s regional manager for temporal affairs.
One morning Brother Bonnet was awakened by an unusual sound. When he got up and looked out, he discovered the sisters of the Relief Society sweeping away the leaves that had fallen onto the village road during the night. “I’ve never seen such cleanliness,” he observed. “The entire village is spotless, and it is obvious that the people take great pride in their island.”

As we remember that “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17), we will not find ourselves in the unenviable position of Jacob Marley’s ghost, who spoke to Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’s immortal A Christmas Carol. Scrooge noticed the large chains which entwined Marley’s body and remarked, “You are fettered. Tell me why?”

Marley replied, “I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it, link by link, and yard by yard.”

Scrooge attempted to console him by saying, “But you were always a good man of business, Jacob.”

“Business!” he replied. “Mankind was my business. … Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused! Yet, such was I! Oh! such was I!”

Marley added, “Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!”5

I am the only member of the Church in my school class. This gives me chances to tell my friends about Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon. One time my best friend asked me to teach her how to pray. So I did. Then we both said a prayer over lunch at school.

This conference was certainly like no other! We commemorated the 200th anniversary of the First Vision and Restoration while striving to stay safe during the COVID-19 pandemic. Members of the Church around the world gathered for the 190th annual general conference in their homes.
The talks themselves were delivered in a location other than the Conference Center: an auditorium in the nearby Church Office Building on Temple Square. Aside from the people who spoke, prayed, or conducted, the auditorium was empty. The music was prerecorded too.
President Russell M. Nelson and other speakers invited us to “hear what the Savior says and then to heed His counsel,” and they promised blessings as we do.

An appropriate tribute of gratitude was made by a young Latter-day Saint girl attending a Denver, Colorado, high school. The students in her class had been asked to prepare a letter to be written to a great man of their choice. Many addressed their letters to sports heroes, some to the leaders of their nation, while others addressed their letters to persons of reknown. This young lady, however, addressed her letter to her father, and in the letter she stated: “I have decided to write this letter to you, Dad, because you are the greatest man that I have ever known. The overwhelming desire of my heart is that I will so live that I might have the privilege of being beside you and Mother and other members of the family in the celestial kingdom.” That father has never received a more cherished letter.

In 2010, the first missionaries arrived in Rwanda. Brent and Cheri Andrus from Park City, Utah, USA, began missionary service in February of that year. Their assignment was to organize a humanitarian action plan for the country as well as support the existing small branch. Approximately 40–50 people were meeting in the basement of the Okapi Hotel owned by the Ruminika’s.
There were many unbaptized people attending Sunday services who were friends and family of members. Elder and Sister Andrus immediately began teaching the missionary lessons before and after Sunday services. In June, a baptism of twelve was performed at the branch’s new meetinghouse in Kimihurura. That same month, the Hydes left Rwanda and Joshua Opar was called to be branch president.