Gospel Story Finder

Kevin W. Pearson leaves his employment to accept a call as a mission president.

Many years ago I attended a stake conference in Star Valley, Wyoming, where the stake presidency was reorganized. The stake president who was being released, E. Francis Winters, had served faithfully for the lengthy term of 23 years. Though modest by nature and circumstance, he had been a perpetual pillar of strength to everyone in the valley. On the day of the stake conference, the building was filled to overflowing. Each heart seemed to be saying a silent thank-you to this noble leader who had given so unselfishly of his life for the benefit of others.

As I stood to speak, I was prompted to do something I had not done before, nor have I done so since. I stated how long Francis Winters had presided in the stake; then I asked all whom he had blessed or confirmed as children to stand and remain standing. Then I asked all those persons whom President Winters had ordained, set apart, personally counseled, or blessed to please stand. The outcome was electrifying. Every person in the audience rose to his or her feet. Tears flowed freely—tears which communicated better than could words the gratitude of tender hearts. I turned to President and Sister Winters and said, “We are witnesses today of the prompting of the Spirit. This vast throng reflects not only individual feelings but also the gratitude of God for a life well lived.” No person who was in the congregation that day will forget how he or she felt when we witnessed the language of the Spirit of the Lord.

—Littleton, Colorado, April 20, 1999
In high school I played power forward on Columbine High School’s girls’ varsity basketball team. The weekend before prom I met with my coach to set expectations for the upcoming season, which would be my senior year. Coach Sanders and our team had just completed our first winning season in 12 years. He showed our team how to work together and be united. I admired his leadership and kindness. I didn’t know that would be the last time I’d see him alive.
The following Tuesday, two male Columbine seniors carried out an attack on our school that was the worst school shooting in U.S. history. I was in my trigonometry class when the massacre began. Suddenly, fire alarms went off, and in a confused panic, teachers escorted us outside to wait. We watched as ambulances, police cars, and a SWAT team surrounded our school. When the rampage ended, 13 people had been murdered and 25 others were injured, some very seriously. Coach Sanders died of gunshot wounds while saving students by clearing out the crowded lunchtime cafeteria.
I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t see the actual violence or have to live with the gruesome images that replay in a person’s mind afterward. I did have to deal with the death of friends, and I had to learn how to be sensitive about letting others grieve at their own pace.
The day after the attack, my bishop met with all of us who had experienced the terror. For a long time, he and I sat in his office and cried together. I asked him why such a horrible thing had happened to us. After a few moments of quiet consideration, he asked me to read from the Doctrine and Covenants. “Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation. For after much tribulation come the blessings” (D&C 58:3–4).
It didn’t make sense that Heavenly Father would let this happen. My pain was too raw to see any blessings. But I knew there had to be something in these verses, since they were the ones my bishop wanted me to read.
Ten years have passed since the Columbine shootings. I’ve gone on to receive college degrees, serve a mission, and now work in a job I enjoy. When I reflect on the events surrounding the infamous shooting, three lessons rise to the surface.
No one got to say goodbye before the victims were taken from their families, although many attended the funerals in a variety of churches to show respect and gratitude for their lives. The services rang with emotional eulogies and were biting with sadness and hurt. Many believed those goodbyes were permanent. Because of what my parents had taught me and what I had learned in church and seminary, I knew that their deaths were not the end.
Salvation is possible because of Jesus Christ’s Atonement. The Savior paid the ultimate price for our redemption and happiness (see Luke 22:42). I know that we will always receive heavenly help to see us through our trials—the big, splashy, front-page ones and the poignant hurts that only we know about individually.
After the shooting, the question “Why did I have to experience this?” often passed through my mind. I had lost my innocent view of the world, the luxury of feeling safe and the ability to readily trust people. It was unfair that my basketball coach and my friends were taken from me. I often didn’t know how to respond to others who were hurting and I felt guilty and angry in my inadequacy. It was hard to believe that after this tribulation any blessing could come.
Because my self-pity and anger smoldered for so long, it was hard to recognize them as problems, let alone get rid of them. People thought I was difficult and found it hard to get along with me. I had to dig deep to understand the turmoil that was going on in my mind so I could find a healthy way to address it. I didn’t work through these issues alone. I relied on prayer, friends, family and trusted in the Savior’s healing Atonement to mend my wounded heart.
I had to give up feeling sorry for myself and learn again to trust others. Columbine helped me become more empathetic and patient, more compassionate and loving, and more full of hope and joy. My experience is that no matter what happens to us during life’s journey, it all turns out right in the end. If we take every question and every burden to the Lord, He promises that as we learn of Him our questions will be answered. He also promises that as we take His yoke, His name, upon us our burdens will become light (see Matthew 11:29–30). Finally, I could stop punishing myself and let the hurt go away.
Tumultuous events are all around us in the form of depression, natural disaster, terror, or even things as simple as gossip or disappointment. I can’t comprehend how the Columbine gunmen could sink into a place so dark that they felt justified in killing. I feel sorry for them because they didn’t know how to escape their mental turmoil. Though we live in a scary world, it is critical to know that we need not fear. We’re entitled to the power and peace of the Spirit as we live righteously. This is the Lord’s promise and He always keeps His promises.
“Fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail. … Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not” (D&C 6:34, 36).
I’ve learned to let go of fear. I trust the Savior. I trust my Heavenly Father. I know we are all in His caring, merciful hands. We cannot control others or the world around us, but as children of God we can control how we respond to adversity. Cultivating a faith-filled perspective and uplifting thoughts tends to push out the negative and defeating ones. Anyone can turn on a light in a dark room; we create light and hope in the world as we choose to be happy.

The calling of Ezra Taft Benson as the thirteenth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will long be remembered, particularly by the seven newest members of the Quorum of the Twelve, who experienced for the first time the holy direction we received in the calling of a President of the Church. After much fasting and prayer, and the seeking of personal revelation to know the mind and will of God, it was confirmed to our souls who should be called—even Ezra Taft Benson. This I know! With that heavenly confirmation to each of those present, Ezra Taft Benson was ordained and set apart on Sunday, November 10, 1985, as prophet, seer, and revelator, and President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

My mom is a great example to me and takes time to help me learn how to clean and cook better. She also tries to help me sew. When I came in last during a race, she showed me the scripture in Ether 12:27 to help me realize that Heavenly Father loves me despite my weaknesses. She teaches us about loving our family when she reads to us and gathers us all around her. Because of her, we like to be together as a family.

Neil L. Andersen
(92) A faithful Brazilian mother, prohibited by her husband from attending church, sends her children to church.

Three years ago, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer, and after eight months she died. The years after her death were really hard, but looking back, I discovered that I am much stronger than I thought.
What makes the experience so amazing is that I know I could never have done this on my own. When I trusted Christ and put my faith in Him, He lifted me up to a higher place than I ever imagined possible.
He’s always been there, though I had my moments of doubt. But there were other moments—pure, sweet, quiet moments—when I felt Him there right beside me. It was like the light switch was flicked on and I realized His presence in my life. Those moments gave me the strength and courage to move on when the lights went off again. And as I trust in Him, those sweet moments happen more and more often.
I love Him. I know He is my Savior and Redeemer. I know that He is always there, and He will never desert me. In my times of need, and in my day-to-day life, He will always be near. I have only to trust in Him and try my best to keep His commandments. And, ultimately, it is through Christ’s Atonement that I can see Him, and my mom, once again.

“We wanted to recognize the family and have the youth find the job of modern-day families, and we wanted to do it through dance,” says Bruce Bassett, a youth leader. Doctrine and Covenants 136:28 states, “If thou art merry, praise the Lord with singing, with music, with dancing, and with a prayer of praise and thanksgiving.” Five stakes in Washington took that scripture and ran with it—actually they danced with it.
The Bothell, Snohomish, Everett, Lynnwood, and Mount Vernon Stakes spent two years planning their dance festival in Marysville, and one and a half of those years working on it intensely. It was the first dance festival in that area in more than 20 years. “It teaches us how much effort and responsibility it takes to put on one of these festivals,” says Morgan Thatcher, 16, of the Everett Stake. “And also how much fun it can be.”
For the last five months of those two years, the youth learned all the dance moves they would need to pull off this spectacular event. Hours and hours of practice and some great choreography, not to mention raw talent, meant the final product was a big hit.
Early on the morning of the big performance, the youth are rushing around frantically trying to find lost hats and canes, or even the whereabouts of their stakes. But the chaos dies down as soon as the nearly 1,000 young people gather in perfect rows in the gym to say an opening prayer and begin practice. It is their first time practicing as a complete group. Previously, the stake groups had practiced on their own. A lot of organization and teamwork made it possible to integrate all the stakes and their dances. The youth practice all morning, but instead of being tired, by early afternoon they are excited to give the day’s first performance.
By 1:00 P.M., everyone is costumed and waiting in the wings for their cues. The stage for the opening number is set when the family reunion begins. “Celebration,” a 1984 song, is the first dance number, and all the stakes participate. Hula-hoops fly, streamers wave, and each stake performs its unique number while coordinating with the other stakes.
Prompted by the memories and stories of the on-stage family, the youth keep dancing. A hat and cane number, a Latin dance, and a classic disco hustle. Then it was on to a pioneer square dance.
The last song, which was also part of the opening number, has a prayerful quality. The score is an original, written by Ann Bailey, the event’s music director. The song title, “A Time to Dance,” is taken from Ecclesiastes 3:4. The spirit filling the gymnasium was one of praise and worship, thanks to the dedicated youth of Washington, who were congratulated with a standing ovation and many tear-filled eyes. The youth performed the whole show again a few hours later to another packed gymnasium.

She goes out with the sister missionaries often during her summer vacations. Occasionally, there are opportunities to bear testimony to people she knows. One day the missionary lesson turned out to be with her best friend from school. “I told her truly what I feel,” Joselén says. Joselén is glad that she was able to share her testimony with her friend.

For centuries, black powder was the most powerful explosive available. It could launch cannon balls, but it wasn’t effective for most mining and road construction projects. It was just too weak to shatter rock.
In 1846 an Italian chemist named Ascanio Sobrero synthesized a new explosive, nitroglycerin. This oily fluid was at least a thousand times more powerful than black powder. It could easily shatter rock. Unfortunately, nitroglycerin was unstable. If you dropped it from a small height, it’d blow up. If it got too hot, it’d blow up. If it got too cold, it’d blow up. Even placed in a cool, dark room and left alone, it’d eventually blow up. Most countries banned its transportation, and many banned its manufacture.
In 1860 a Swedish scientist named Alfred Nobel began trying to stabilize nitroglycerin. After seven years of experimentation, he achieved his goal by absorbing nitroglycerin into a nearly worthless substance known as diatomaceous earth, or kieselguhr. Kieselguhr is a porous rock that can be crumbled into a fine powder. When mixed with nitroglycerin, kieselguhr absorbs the nitroglycerin, and the resultant paste can be shaped into “sticks.” In this form, nitroglycerin was much more stable. It could be safely stored, transported, and used with undiminished explosive power. Nobel named the combination of nitroglycerin and kieselguhr “dynamite.”
Dynamite changed the world. It also made Nobel wealthy. Without a stabilizer, nitroglycerin was just too hazardous to be commercially valuable, as Ascanio Sobrero found out. By itself, as I mentioned, kieselguhr was of little value. But the combination of the two components made dynamite transformative and precious.
Just as dynamite without nitroglycerin is unremarkable, the Savior’s Church is special only if it is built on His gospel. Without the Savior’s gospel and the authority to administer the ordinances thereof, the Church isn’t exceptional.
Without the stabilizing effect of kieselguhr, nitroglycerin had limited value as an explosive. As history has shown, without the Lord’s Church, humanity’s understanding of His gospel was likewise unstable—prone to doctrinal drift and subject to the influence of different religions, cultures, and philosophies. An amalgamation of those influences has been manifested in every dispensation leading up to this last one. Though the gospel was initially revealed in its purity, the interpretation and application of that gospel gradually took on a form of godliness that lacked power because the divinely authorized framework was absent.
The combination of nitroglycerin and kieselguhr made dynamite valuable; the combination of the gospel of Jesus Christ and His Church is beyond price. Oskar and Albertina heard about the restored gospel because a prophet of God had called, assigned, and sent missionaries to Sweden. By divine commission, missionaries taught the doctrine of Christ and by priesthood authority baptized Oskar and Albertina. As members, Oskar and Albertina continued learning, developing, and serving others. They became Latter-day Saints because they kept the covenants they made.

Shelly loved to skip. She skipped to the park. She skipped to school and home from school. She skipped next door to visit Sister Jones. She skipped so much that her friends and family called her “Skipper.”
One day, though, Shelly walked home from school very slowly. She didn’t feel like skipping. Her legs felt heavy as she climbed the porch steps and opened the front door. She found Mother sitting at the kitchen table, writing letters.
“Hi, Shelly! How was school today?” Mother asked, pausing to lick an envelope.
Shelly didn’t say anything. She felt tears pressing her eyes. Oh, no, she thought, I’m going to cry again.
Mother licked some stamps and pressed them onto the envelopes. Then she turned to Shelly. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
As Mother hugged her, Shelly felt tears roll down her cheeks. “Oh, Mom! Some of the kids at school say I’m stupid! Am I?”
Mother hugged her tighter. “No, Shelly! You’re not stupid.”
Shelly leaned back and looked at Mother. Mother had a way of looking into Shelly’s eyes that made her feel understood. She knew that Mother loved her. “Then why is everything so hard for me? I’m always the last one finished with math or spelling, and I still get more wrong than everybody else.” Mother handed her a tissue. Shelly sniffed. “I really try, Mom! I really try! And you help me study every night. So why is it so hard for me?”
Mother pulled Shelly close again and answered her with a question. “Shelly, what is the greatest talent anyone can have?”
Shelly thought. She remembered how well her teenage brothers played their violins. They played with the high school orchestra. “Is it to play the violin?” she asked.
“No,” said Mother. “Playing the violin is not the greatest talent. Think again.”
Shelly thought about how well Dad did woodworking. Shelly liked to watch him as he built beautiful furniture. “Is it to build things?” she asked.
Mother shook her head. “No, woodworking is not the greatest talent. Think again.”
Then Shelly remembered how she loved to have Mother sing Primary songs to her at bedtime. Sometimes, if Shelly wasn’t too tired after studying, they sang together. Mother led the singing in Primary. Shelly liked learning the new songs with her mother. “Is singing the greatest talent anyone can have?” Shelly asked.
“No, Shelly, Talent in music is a wonderful talent, but it isn’t the greatest talent.”
Shelly thought about her friend Aubree. Aubree usually finished her math and spelling before anyone else in the class. Aubree didn’t have to study after school, so she took dancing lessons several afternoons a week. She could do ballet and tap dance. On Saturdays, Shelly liked to visit Aubree. Aubree would let Shelly wear one of her beautiful costumes and would teach her some dancing steps.
“Is the greatest talent dancing?” Shelly asked.
“No, Shelly, it isn’t dancing. Think very hard.”
Shelly thought. Then she remembered how hard it was for her to read. Sometimes the letters seemed to flip over or even disappear. “Oh, Mom, it isn’t reading, is it?”
Mother gave her a squeeze. “No, it isn’t reading. Dancing, singing, reading, woodworking, and playing instruments are all great talents, but they aren’t anything compared to the best talent. And, Shelly, you have the best talent.”
Shelly was surprised. “No, Mom. I don’t do anything really well.”
“Oh, yes, you do. You try to make people happy. You stop to visit Sister Jones on your way home from school. She’s lonely living alone, and you cheer her up. She has often told me how much she looks forward to your visits.”
Shelly smiled. She liked Sister Jones. Sometimes she played her harp for Shelly. Sister Jones even said that she’d teach Shelly to play one when Shelly’s arms grew a little longer.
Mother gave Shelly another squeeze. “And when our doorbell rings, you’re the first one there. You greet everyone with a smile. Even when my friends come, you want them to have a cookie, and you always tell them to come again. That makes them very happy.”
Mother is right, Shelly thought. I do like to make people happy.
“Shelly,” Mother said, “your talent is the best talent of all. Can you guess what it is now?”
Shelly still shook her head.
“Shelly, your talent is love. You know how to love others, and that is the best talent. That’s what Jesus taught. All those other talents—singing, dancing, woodworking, playing instruments, even reading—don’t mean very much if you don’t know how to love.”
Shelly thought some more and nodded her head. She gave her mother a kiss and a big hug. Then she skipped down the hallway to change into her play clothes.
The next day just before the bell rang at the end of school, a boy in Shelly’s class started teasing her again. But Shelly only smiled at him. I might not be as smart as you, she thought, but I can love you anyway; and Jesus said that loving is the best thing of all.
Then she put her math and spelling books in her book bag and skipped all the way home.

Imagine yourself on a trip to Mars. You have been traveling for several months and the red planet now looms before you. Peering out of your spaceship through the pane of glass that protects you from the cold vacuum of space, a fantastic drama unfolds before your eyes as the great sphere rotates on its axis and new features of its surface emerge from the dark of night into the light of day.
To the north or top of the disc, with bright clouds trailing from its summit, stands Ascreaus Mons, one of the giant Martian volcanos. To the south or bottom of the disc, with a thin layer of gray white frost glimmering in the morning sun, lies the great Argyre meteor crater. Suddenly, however, your attention is drawn to a third feature midway between the two, a giant scar upon the land that stands out in stark relief against the red terrain. Rubbing your eyes in disbelief, you look again. Yes, it’s still there—and growing bigger! As it moves into the full light of day, you see that it is a giant system of canyons that stretches more than a quarter of the way around the globe. Then you remember. It is the Valles Marineris, the Grand Canyons of Mars.
Think again, now, about your imaginary spaceflight. If you were really on a trip to Mars, what would you take along to help you remember the journey? A camera? Right! And that is just what scientists do whenever they send a spacecraft to another planet. Their snapshots are one of the ways that we are expanding our knowledge of the great variety of God’s creations. In the Valles Marineris we have one more example of His magnificent handiwork.

The watchmaker in Switzerland, with materials at hand, made the watch that was found in the sand in a California desert. The people who found the watch had never been to Switzerland, nor seen the watchmaker, nor seen the watch made. The watchmaker still existed, in spite of the extent of their ignorance or experience. If the watch could talk it might even lie and say, “There is no watchmaker.” That would not alter the truth.

After Miss Potter published her own book, she again showed it to Frederick Warne & Co. The editor now saw possibilities in publishing it, and he accepted the Tale of Peter Rabbit. Its success gave Miss Potter encouragement, and in the next eight years she wrote thirteen children’s books. In all, twenty-three were written and published, the last one in 1930. Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit books are enjoyed today just as much as when Noel received his first illustrated letter in 1893.

Then when I was in business here in Salt Lake and President Heber J. Grant called for a thousand short-term missionaries, he said: “Bishops and stake presidents are not exempt.” I was then a bishop. I landed back in New England—left my wife and seven kiddies and my business in the hands of my brother-in-law. You don’t do things like that with normal men! It takes men inspired by the Holy Spirit.

Kellene Trentham, 14, was awarded an Outstanding Community Service award from the Chief of Police in Chubbuck, Idaho. Kellene has been the editor and publisher of a community newspaper that has been helping the police instruct citizens about crime prevention.
Kellene’s newspaper started as a get-acquainted effort in her subdivision. One of her neighbors was the Crime Prevention Officer from the police department. At that time, the police were attempting to organize a Neighborhood Watch program where neighbors learn to secure their homes and report unusual activities in their residential area. Kellene started including the information in her newspaper. Soon others were interested in receiving the paper, and local merchants began contributing articles on topics of interest or services. The paper, which is printed once a month, is now being delivered to 1,200 homes.
Kellene has expanded her activities to her local junior high school where, with the help of the police, she is organizing a youth crime prevention group.
Kellene is a member of the Seventh Ward, North Pocatello Idaho Stake.

Since ward basketball teams can only involve five players at a time, there are often many participants waiting impatiently on the bench for an opportunity to get into the game. The Pleasant Grove 13th Ward, Pleasant Grove Utah Stake, has alleviated this situation with the organization of a ward basketball league. Organized as a fellowshipping and service project by the priests quorum, the league consists of eight teams. Seven of the teams include five or six adults plus one priest, teacher, and deacon. The eighth team is a bishopric team.
The ward plays four 45-minute games each Mutual night, two before and two after classes. The rules stipulate that an Aaronic Priesthood member must be on the court at all times. This has significantly added to the camaraderie and success of the team, according to priests quorum adviser Dell Young. One of the young men was leading scorer with 26 points during a game early in the season. Members of the priests quorum serve as scorekeepers, statisticians, publicity chairmen, and referees.
Because of the unity and fun that this ward has experienced through. their basketball league, they are now considering forming leagues in softball, volleyball, swimming, tennis, and any other sport that would be popular. Leagues for the women and girls are also on the drawing board.

One Sunday morning during our priests quorum meeting, my teacher, Brother Allen, asked me, “Brother Davis, do you have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ?” I told him I did. He asked me how I knew it was true. I told him my parents had taught me it was true, and I believed them.
He explained that I could not rely on my parents’ testimony forever—I needed to obtain my own. He told me that if I read from the Book of Mormon and prayed to Heavenly Father, He would answer my prayer, and I would know for myself that the gospel of Jesus Christ was true. He asked me to do that during the week and return next Sunday to report.
The next Sunday, Brother Allen asked for my report when class started. At first, I didn’t even remember the previous week’s lesson. I told him I had no report for him. He smiled at me and explained that sometimes it takes some work. After renewing his challenge, he told me he would ask about it next week.
During the following week, I read from the Book of Mormon for several days, and I said some heartfelt prayers. Soon it was Sunday again. I went to my quorum meeting with some trepidation. I hoped that Brother Allen would simply forget about his challenge.
When Brother Allen asked me about it again, I told him that I had read and prayed but had nothing more to report. He renewed his challenge and encouraged me to ask in faith. He then promised me that Heavenly Father would answer my prayers.
During the next week, I read several chapters of the Book of Mormon every night. I prayed earnestly for a testimony of its truthfulness. But by Saturday night, I was unsettled because I still had no answer.
That night, I read a chapter in the Book of Mormon, knelt by my bedside, and prayed like I had never prayed before. I begged my Heavenly Father for a knowledge of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and that the Church was true. After my prayer, I lay in bed. My mind and my heart were filled with a message from the Holy Ghost. It was not a voice but a feeling; yet specific words were given to me. These are the words that filled my soul: “My son, you know the Book of Mormon is true. You know the Church is true. You have felt it in your heart since you were young. The Holy Ghost has testified to you that it is true. Of course it is true.” I was reminded of several specific spiritual experiences in my life when I had felt the undeniable influence of the Holy Ghost.
The next morning, I was up early and ready for church, excited for Brother Allen to ask for my report. As we assembled in our classroom, Brother Allen began teaching the lesson. He didn’t ask for the report as he had done the last two weeks. I raised my hand. He was startled, but he realized immediately that I was now ready to share my experience. I then told Brother Allen and my priests quorum that I had a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, that I knew the Book of Mormon is true, and that Heavenly Father had answered my prayer. In my 16-year-old language, I tried to share the magnitude of my discovery, though my words were insufficient.
I will always be grateful to Brother Allen for his persistence and his love as I gained my own testimony. I know that God lives and answers my prayers. ?

In 1995 a President of the Church and 14 other Apostles of the Lord issued these important doctrinal statements. As one of only seven of those Apostles still living, I feel obliged to share what led to the family proclamation for the information of all who consider it.

The inspiration identifying the need for a proclamation on the family came to the leadership of the Church over 23 years ago. It was a surprise to some who thought the doctrinal truths about marriage and the family were well understood without restatement. Nevertheless, we felt the confirmation and we went to work. Subjects were identified and discussed by members of the Quorum of the Twelve for nearly a year. Language was proposed, reviewed, and revised. Prayerfully we continually pleaded with the Lord for His inspiration on what we should say and how we should say it. We all learned “line upon line, precept upon precept,” as the Lord has promised (D&C 98:12).

During this revelatory process, a proposed text was presented to the First Presidency, who oversee and promulgate Church teachings and doctrine. After the Presidency made further changes, the proclamation on the family was announced by the President of the Church, Gordon B. Hinckley. In the women’s meeting of September 23, 1995, he introduced the proclamation with these words: “With so much of sophistry that is passed off as truth, with so much of deception concerning standards and values, with so much of allurement and enticement to take on the slow stain of the world, we have felt to warn and forewarn.”

“I didn’t know what feeling the Spirit felt like until the start of this year,” said Tiago Pereira. “I was speaking to my dad, and he really helped me understand. We were just driving along, and my dad asked me if I had a testimony. At first I said, ‘Well, I’m not really sure.’ Then he asked me to describe the feelings I had when I felt the Spirit. As we were talking, I felt the Spirit again during our conversation. Both of us were crying by the end. It was good. From then on, it’s been easier to understand when I feel the Spirit.”