Gospel Story Finder

For Oksana Fersanova, that’s exactly what the Church is like. Oksana, who lives in Khmel’nyts’kyy, Ukraine, was one of the first people to be baptized when her city opened for missionary work in 2006. Not long after her baptism she was called to serve as Primary president for the small group that meets in her city.
Oksana is typical of Latter-day Saint teenagers throughout the Church here—deeply involved in serving and eager to share the truth in a land where the message of the gospel is now taking hold. In areas like Khmel’nyts’kyy, the young converts provide energy, optimism, and unwavering testimonies of the gospel, which strengthen the Church in Ukraine.
Oksana had a testimony of Jesus Christ, but it wasn’t until her friends gave her a copy of the Book of Mormon that she gained a testimony of His restored gospel.
“As I read about Jesus Christ talking to the Nephites, a strong feeling came over me, and I knew that He loved me. I prayed and had a witness that He is my Savior and the Book of Mormon is true,” Oksana says.
“I knew that if Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon and the Book of Mormon was true, he was definitely a prophet of God and had restored the gospel of Jesus Christ,” she says.
Her friends taught her more about the gospel because there were no missionaries in Khmel’nyts’kyy at that time. For four years she studied the gospel and lived its principles as best as she could, praying for the missionaries to come.
Finally, in March 2006, they came. Oksana and her friend Sasha Kubatov were the first two people baptized in Khmel’nyts’kyy.
Sasha was only 14 when he received a Book of Mormon from his older sisters, who had joined the Church in another city.
“They emphasized the fact that I was 14, just as Joseph Smith was when he had his First Vision. He was greatly blessed at a young age, and I could be too,” he says.
So he started reading. He read until he got to the Isaiah chapters in 2 Nephi, and then he stopped. He read the Book of Mormon again a year later, but as a historical document, not with a desire to know if it was true.
But when he read the Book of Mormon the third time, Sasha focused less on its history and more on the work of God it recorded.
“As I read it, I thought it was true, but I didn’t have a firm testimony yet,” he admits. “I wanted to talk to the missionaries.”
When the elders arrived a few years later, they answered all of his questions and helped him prepare to be baptized and confirmed.
“As I walked into the waters of baptism, all my doubts were gone, and I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet and the gospel is true,” he says. “I was not afraid, even though I knew the rest of my life would be different.”
His life is different now. As a home teacher Sasha is learning how to magnify the priesthood he holds and serve in the Lord’s kingdom.
Within a year of his baptism Sasha baptized his mother and his grandfather. His entire family has now joined the Church, and Sasha is excited to bring the gospel to others.
“I am preparing to serve a mission so that I can preach the gospel and bring someone else to God,” he says. “His work must go forward.”
Misha Sukonosov never imagined that attending English classes with the missionaries in Chernihiv would lead him to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. But that changed after several months of attending the classes.
Misha loved the spirit he felt as the missionaries taught him English. And when he finally accepted their invitation to attend Church meetings with them, he was surprised to feel the same spirit at church.
Finally, one of the elders invited Misha to simply do what he knew was right and be baptized.
Misha knew it would take a great deal of courage to go against his family’s traditions. In Ukraine most people are lifelong members of the predominant church. His family was no exception.
His mother wanted him to wait a few years to be baptized, so he agreed to wait until he turned 16. In the meantime he attended church every week and began serving as branch pianist.
“That helped me come every Sunday, because I had to come or there would be nobody to play,” Misha says.
Finally, when the wait was over, Misha was baptized in the Desna River on July 1, 2006. At the time, he had no idea how quickly his family would follow his example.
His mother, Olga, started coming to church to learn more about her son’s new religion. She came so often that the branch president asked her to play the organ in sacrament meeting so Misha could be called as the music director.
After six months of hearing the members’ testimonies, including her son’s, Olga developed a testimony of her own. Misha baptized his mother in December 2006.
Olga still plays the organ every week. Misha, now 17, keeps busy by helping the branch presidency, serving as a branch missionary, and leading the hymns in sacrament meeting.
“I know the Church needs me,” he says. “I am so grateful for these chances to serve. The Church helps me as I help others.”
In L’viv, a city in western Ukraine, Yuri Voynarovich and his family started searching for truth when he was just 10 years old. For years they visited different churches. Then his uncle invited them to attend a branch of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and Yuri’s parents were soon baptized and confirmed.
“I didn’t go at first,” Yuri says. “I kept searching on my own.”
But his parents, who knew the Church was true, didn’t give up on their son. They invited Yuri to English lessons and youth activities as well as Sunday meetings. Finally, the missionaries themselves invited him to English classes.
“I couldn’t say no to them,” Yuri says. So he went. Then he went to church. Eventually he too was baptized.
“Since that day I’ve had many more experiences that have built and molded my testimony and character into who I am today,” he says.
“I often see people who suffer from bad choices they’ve made,” he says. “I understand sometimes it’s hard because of temptations and peer pressure, but we shouldn’t give up. Later we can see the blessings that come from obedience.”
Yuri, now 17, serves as the branch mission leader and branch clerk in L’viv.
“I am so thankful for the Church and all it has done for me,” Yuri says. “I love this Church. I encourage everyone to hold to the iron rod and never let go.”

Charlie G. Busler, Meridian, Mississippi—The time of decision comes in all our lives, the time when we must develop our own testimonies. It’s something that no one can do for us. We can be taught the gospel, but eventually we are forced to find out for ourselves. The time of decision came for me when I entered college. It was a frightening experience to find myself questioning many ideas I had been taught. This feeling caused me to begin to study the scriptures, to pray, and to fast. Suddenly, like the breaking of dawn, I had a burning conviction of Jesus Christ? his mission, and his church.
It is my testimony that Jesus Christ is really the divine head of this church, that he is leading us through troubled times, and that we should remain close to him.

One fast Sunday during Relief Society, a sister in our ward stood to bear her testimony. After stating that she had learned how much the Lord loves and cares about her, she shared the following experience.
She had been ill with pneumonia, and one morning she was having a particularly difficult time. Her appetite had diminished considerably, and the only thing she thought she could eat was some homemade bread. She was getting discouraged and had been praying for help to endure her trials.
That very morning her visiting teacher came to the door with a loaf of homemade bread. The sister bore testimony of the love she had felt from Heavenly Father. He had heard her prayers and provided her with exactly what she needed.
As I listened, I realized that I was that visiting teacher. I thought back on that morning, trying to remember why I had decided to take bread over at that time. I hadn’t heard a voice or felt a burning in the bosom. I just woke up that day and felt like making bread.
As I was preparing the loaves, I thought of a sister in our ward who was ill. I had felt helpless throughout her illness because I didn’t know what I could do to relieve her suffering. The thought came to my mind that I should take her a loaf of bread. I tried to talk myself out of it because the loaves turned out somewhat misshapen. But when I tasted one, it seemed fine. “At least she will know that I was thinking about her,” I thought.
I wrapped the warm, odd-looking loaf, and took it to her house. As I presented it to her, she smiled and thanked me but refused my offer of further assistance. I went home feeling good but still concerned that I hadn’t helped much.
Months later, when I heard her testimony, I understood that the Holy Ghost had prompted me in answer to her prayers. This experience taught me a great lesson about the importance of responding to the promptings of the Spirit. If an idea comes to us to do something good, we should do it. The Savior said, “Whatsoever thing persuadeth men to do good is of me; for good cometh of none save it be of me” (Ether 4:12).
Anytime we have a thought to do good, we can assume that it comes from the Spirit. We never know how important such promptings can be. I had no idea that a loaf of homemade bread would be an answer to a prayer that would strengthen a testimony. And when the sister was prompted to share her experience in Relief Society, she had no idea of the valuable lesson I learned about recognizing the Spirit.

I was born and raised on my father’s cattle ranch in Roy, Utah, with very few neighbors nearby. I was the youngest of six children, and as a boy I was shy around people who were not in my family. On my first day at school, my brother Lowell, just two years older than I, took me to my first-grade classroom. Surrounded by children I did not know, I felt lonesome and the day seemed long until I could return home with my brother.
Soon I made friends at school and looked forward to seeing them each day. One friend, Larry Dawson, lived about a mile from my home. Larry invited me to his house for a birthday party. I had never been to a birthday party before. It was so much fun! I still remember some of the special toys Larry received—especially his new toy fire engine.
Larry and I rode the bus to school because we lived too far from school to walk. Larry got off the bus at the bus stop on the main highway just before I got off. He then had to cross the highway and walk half a mile (about 1 km) to his home. At that time cars did not stop when a school bus was loading or unloading students.
One day as we were returning home from school, a car speeding by the bus hit and killed my friend. I felt very sad. I missed being with Larry at school and on the bus. My mother and father comforted me by explaining that even though I wouldn’t see Larry anymore in this life, his spirit continued to live in the spirit world. Larry was so kind and good that I knew he would be worthy to live with our Heavenly Father. As I grew, I learned more about our Father’s plan for His children.
My brother Darrell, who was five years older than I, was a special friend to me. Darrell let me ride on his bike with him from our home on the ranch to the barn where he often worked. I rode the bike back to the house, then returned to the barn at the end of the day to accompany him on his ride home. I loved Darrell very much.
One day Darrell was coming home in our family car from driving my sister to her piano lesson. He stopped at the railroad tracks to wait while a long freight train passed. He did not see another train coming from the other direction. When Darrell started over the tracks, the train struck the car and my brother was killed. I was sweeping our driveway when my father pulled up in his pickup truck shortly after it happened, and I still remember the sadness we felt when he told my mother and our family of the accident.
President David O. McKay and Elder Spencer W. Kimball came to speak at my brother’s funeral. President McKay, then President of the Church, was related to my father. Elder Kimball, who later became President of the Church, had recently visited our stake conference and had stayed in our home because my father was the stake president. President McKay and Elder Kimball taught us about our Heavenly Father’s plan and said that we would be together again as a family. They said that we should not be afraid of death, and they taught us about the resurrection. They promised that my brother would live again and that our family could live together for the one thousand years of peace called the Millennium.
I was grateful to know that my friend Larry and my brother Darrell had kept the commandments so they could enjoy every blessing from our Heavenly Father. We do not know when we are going to die, so we should live every day so we will not be sorry if our time comes to return home. We need to speak in kind ways to our brothers and sisters and friends. We should not argue or treat others unkindly. We should follow the example of Jesus Christ. One of my favorite Primary songs reminds me of the things we need to do.
I’m trying to be like Jesus; I’m following in his ways.
I’m trying to love as he did, in all that I do and say.
At times I am tempted to make a wrong choice,
But I try to listen as the still small voice whispers,
“Love one another as Jesus loves you.
Try to show kindness in all that you do.
Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought,
For these are the things Jesus taught.”
(Children’s Songbook, 78–79)
When we keep all of our Heavenly Father’s commandments, we will be happy now and in the life to come. It also takes away our fear of dying because we know that if we are good, we will one day go home to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ forever.

But then my mind took me back to my first day of work nearly 40 years earlier. My father owned a bakery and baked bread that was distributed to many small markets in our city in southern Brazil. When I was a young child, I kept insisting that my father take me to work with him. One day he finally said yes!
My mother sewed a little white apron and a baker’s hat for me, and my dad and I went to the bakery. Together, we mixed and prepared dough, manually shaped the dough into loaves, and placed the loaves into the brick oven. When the bread finished baking, we used a long wooden paddle to carefully retrieve the bread. We waited for a few seconds, then we shared a loaf of the still-warm bread. It tasted wonderful!
Upon reflection, I decided that receiving an award at Cambridge was my second-best day of work. The best and happiest day at work was in a much more humble setting: a little bakery with no audience or standing ovation. It was just me and my dad. That day, he taught me to love and value work and helped me feel the joy of making something from scratch with my own hands. I learned that hard work is satisfying to both the body and the soul.
I can still hear the applause and the words of encouragement coming from that audience at the University of Cambridge, but more dear to me is the memory of my day at the bakery with my father and the smell of those loaves of bread as they came out of the oven.

My husband, Gary, a marriage and family therapist, shares valuable insights about parent-child communication. “Asking simple questions and then listening is a great way to get children thinking,” he often tells parents. I’ve watched him do it in our home, and I’m gaining some skill in putting it into practice myself.

For example, our son came home from school one day and seemed discouraged. I said, “What’s up? You seem sad.” He replied, “Jim [not his real name] is such a jerk.” And I said, “Oh, how’s that?” I was surprised at what followed. “He’s been inviting his girlfriend over to his house every day after school since his mom started working.” Resisting the temptation to begin a magnificent sermon on morality, I said, “Hmmmmm.” And he said, “It’s so stupid. He’s just asking for trouble.” That was definitely similar to what I would have said, only more concise. I asked, “What do you mean?” Then a flood of information poured forth regarding all the dangers of being alone in a house with a girlfriend. But it didn’t stop there. He discussed all sides of the issue, including the terrible effects of venereal disease and abortion. All I did was listen and agree. I’m convinced he would have heard very little of the sermon had it been preached by me.

A number of years ago our family had the privilege of serving a mission in Belgium and France. We had six small children, including a new baby born in that country. Before Christmas we had written home for some clothing and Christmas gifts for our children. They did not arrive in time for Christmas as we had hoped.
As we sat together Christmas Eve reading the New Testament and the account of the birth of the Savior, there was a little melancholy because there would not be many gifts. But as we read the words about the gift our Father in Heaven had given, his beloved Son, Jesus, we realized that there were many in our city who needed help. So we quickly gathered together some of our possessions and a Christmas box of groceries and sought out one of those families.
As we all visited that tiny apartment and began to sing Christmas carols, our hearts were full as perhaps never before. We felt the spirit of giving, we felt the spirit of those who were receiving, and we felt the spirit of our Father in Heaven. We returned to our home that Christmas Eve with a far greater gift than those gifts we had anticipated from home. Truly, the only real gift is the gift of oneself.

“Boy, I’ll bet you’re glad that your sister’s getting married tomorrow!” With all the fussing over Christine’s temple wedding and reception, and finding himself in everyone’s way most of the time, Jason had to agree with his friend Randy. He was glad that the wedding was tomorrow! As he tossed the baseball idly back to Randy, he said, “Well, at least I won’t have to stand in line anymore to use the bathroom. She’s always in there taking a bath or doing something to her face.”
“Yeah, sisters can make life miserable,” Randy agreed. “Even mine, and she’s only two years old!”
The boys called it quits on the game of catch and found a seat on the back porch steps.
“Remember that game we played in the mud last summer?” Jason asked. “Lucky for me, I got home before my folks saw me. But who do you think I found in the bathroom? Christine! It smelled like a perfume factory in there! Phew!”
Randy frowned. “I bet she told on you, too, didn’t she?”
“Well, … no.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I guess she didn’t,” Jason said with a shrug. “At least Mom and Dad never said a word when—”
Before Jason could finish, two of Christine’s girlfriends, her bridesmaids for the reception, came out the back door, down the steps, and drove away in their car.
“Don’t girls ever stop giggling?” Randy complained. “I guess you’ve heard a lot of that in your house.”
“Yeah.” Jason sighed. “Sometimes when Christine had friends over, I’d go to my room just to get some peace and quiet. All they ever did was eat pizza and talk about boys! Yuck!” Jason kicked a stone off the step below, then added thoughtfully,
“But she always saved me some pizza.”
“Who?”
“My sister.”
“Oh.”
The two friends silently watched a robin working on a worm in the grass.
“Hey! Just think!” Randy shouted. “Now you’ll have a new sitter when your folks go out.”
“So?”
“Well, didn’t you always tell me that your sister gave you a hard time when she stayed with you, making you go to bed at the same time, even when it wasn’t a school night?”
Jason remembered the many times that Christine had watched him. “Yeah. Nine o’clock, even on weekends!” Then he remembered something else. “Nine o’clock without fail except for that night last year when we had the bad storm and the lights went out.”
Randy elbowed his friend. “She made you go to bed earlier, right?”
“Well, … no,” Jason admitted. He smiled a little. “Christine got out our sleeping bags and flashlights, made some sandwiches, and turned on her portable radio. We camped out in the living room.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah! It was neat!”
“Neat, huh?” Randy teased. “OK. I guess you forgot the Halloween when she made the costume that made you a laughingstock!”
Jason stopped smiling. That was a Halloween that he’d never forget! Christine had volunteered to make him a costume in her home economics class at school. Jason was supposed to be a plain old pirate. But Christine outdid herself and added so much ribbon and lace and so many sequins that Jason ended up looking more like a gypsy than a pirate.
“Ha! You really looked funny!” Randy laughed, wagging a finger at Jason.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jason admitted, his face getting hot and red. He didn’t like remembering that terrible night! “If it hadn’t been for that lousy costume, those big guys from Willow Street would have left me alone and not taken my whole bag of candy.”
But Jason also remembered how Christine had gotten angry—not at him, but at the bullies who’d stolen his candy. “Let’s go!” she had ordered, grabbing Jason by the arm, then spending two more hours in their rainy neighborhood with him, watching and waiting as Jason refilled his treat bag.
“Boy, she’s some sister,” Randy said in a tone of disgust.
“Yeah, she sure is,” Jason agreed quietly. He got up, adding, “And tomorrow’s the wedding. This is my last chance to really tell her what I think of her.”
Jason marched straight to Christine’s bedroom, took a deep breath, and knocked.
“Come on in,” Christine called. She was setting her hair, stretching and pulling strands of it over prickly tubes. “Hi, Jase!” she said cheerfully. “What’s up?”
The room was filled with clouds of Christine’s perfume. Jason almost forgot what he wanted to say as he stared at the billowing, white gown that hung on her closet door.
Christine looked at him in the mirror. “Is something wrong?” she asked, putting down her brush and turning to her little brother.
“I—I—” he stammered, blushing. “I just wanted to tell you something,” Jason managed to say very quickly. Standing as tall as possible, he took a deep breath and let it out: “Christine, I love you, and I’m gonna miss you!”

Thousands of missionaries had their mission calls changed because of the coronavirus. For example, Curtis and Ramona Miller were reassigned to a different mission because of the virus. They testified: “We have a strong testimony that it does not matter where we serve but that we are willing to serve. As we allow the Savior’s hand to guide our life, He qualifies us for this work.”
Curtis and Ramona Miller
Looking at options on the Church’s senior missionary website, the Millers selected eight possible locations—most of which were in Polynesia and Europe.
Their call came to serve in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
They would need to learn French.
After three and a half months in Africa, the Millers were reassigned to serve in Georgia, USA, because of COVID-19.

Joseph V.’s great-grandmother has Alzheimer’s disease. That means that she can’t remember things and sometimes doesn’t recognize people. Joseph started keeping a journal about his experiences with his great-grandmother’s illness, and then he wrote a book. Because of his book, My Grandma Has Alzheimer’s Too, Joseph has been in the newspaper, on the radio, and on TV. Now his book is going to be published.
Joseph says, “When the media ask me how my book started, I tell them first I kept a journal for two years then started to write my book. Then they say, ‘How did an 11-year-old boy learn to keep a journal?’ I tell them, ‘My church.’ ”
Joseph is happy that he can bring people’s attention to the disease and to the Church. He also wants to encourage young people to keep records and journals.

While most members had plenty of food, cooking it with the power off was a problem. And since everyone was so busy trying to clean up their homes, the evening meals provided by different wards in the stake were extremely welcome. For two weeks after the quake, meals were prepared by the Relief Society sisters in the stake and transported over long distances to Coalinga.
Even more important than the food was the emotional support and closeness derived from ward and stake members coming together to talk and share concerns. “Coalinga is about the farthest ward from the stake center,” explained Sister Millie Netherton. “We used to see these people at meetings and work with them, but we didn’t really know them very well. Now we fall into each other’s arms we’re so glad to see each other.”

Reference was made this morning to DaNang in South Vietnam. During the height of the war, shortly before Christmas several years ago, I sat in a meeting there with a great body of Latter-day Saint troops and some friends who had come with them, the conflict all around us. We sang the songs of Christmas and of our faith. There was much of testifying and of preaching and witnessing, and there was a solo sung by a nineteen-year-old boy in the uniform of his country. He sang without accompaniment in a high tenor voice, sweet and clear, “Silent Night,” and all wept. I went to my place of rest that night, thoughtfully considering the early morning meeting when we would again be together. At dawn the next morning there was a knock on the door of my quarters. The nineteen-year-old was there. He had on his full battle gear, the grenades hanging from his belt, his gun in hand, his helmet in the other hand, apologetic in his approach, so humble and so gentle. He said, “I am very sorry to disturb you this morning, Brother Hanks. I thought I would be able to attend the meeting, but I pulled a mission and I can’t be there. I just wondered if you would mind letting me shake your hand one more time.” We shook hands and reached out beyond that in a warm embrace. And then he went to his mission, and I to my knees.

So I decided that in my senior year I wouldn’t have another girlfriend. And it made for a really fun year because I made a lot of friends. One girl, though, I started to hang out with a lot. I could tell she liked me, and I started to like her back. But because I had made my decision, I knew what was right. I had to tell her that I didn’t want to date. She understood, and we actually became good friends.

During a recent virtual mission reunion. Stuart and Sheryl McReynolds invited their returned missionaries to continue one of their mission traditions—their annual ‘EMM-athon’. During their time presiding over the England Manchester Mission, the McReynolds had established this custom when they challenged their missionaries to get up on time for the three days over Christmas, getting out of their accommodation each day to run or walk for exercise. They also invited them to record and share a short video greeting for the other missionaries while they were out.
The McReynolds thought it would be fun to continue the EMM-athon tradition in some form with returned-missionary colleagues from around the world. This year’s invitation was to get out sometime over the Christmas period to run, walk or cycle and share a photo or short video on their mission alumni Facebook group, thereby hoping to connect with missionaries during this special time of year. They also issued a challenge to donate for every mile covered to Barnabus, a Manchester Charity caring for the city’s homeless. They thought this was a good way for them to stay connected to their mission area and continue giving in some small way.
They established a fundraising page with Barnabus and pushed ahead with the challenge. More than seventy returned missionaries, young and senior, from 13 countries covered 562 miles during the Christmas week, including one young returned missionary running 27 miles on Christmas Eve! Their combined fundraising efforts resulted in a £879 donation for the charity, providing much-needed help and support to Manchester’s homeless.
Alex Simpson, a representative of the Barnabus Charity contacted the McReynolds to thank them and all who were involved with the fundraising efforts, and in recognition of those efforts a certificate of thanks was sent by the charity. Alex added that the charity was grateful for the money that had been raised to help change the lives of people experiencing homelessness.
This was a wonderful idea and act by Stuart and Sheryl McReynolds and their returned-missionary colleagues. They plan to do the same thing annually as they look to identify other charities within the England Manchester Mission boundary that they could support.

Heber J. Grant was not a good singer. His mother made him take singing lessons.
The teacher tried and tried to teach Heber to sing. Finally the teacher said, “Heber, you’ll never be able to sing!”
Years later, Heber told a friend how much he wanted to be able to sing a few Church hymns.
“It will take time and effort,” said his friend. “But, you can do it.”
Heber prayed for help. He practiced and practiced. He learned to sing the Church hymns.

Carrie Laub, in Hebron, remembered when she and her mother went out to the watermelon patch and enjoyed a watermelon. Her father ate with them and then went to work, but her mother stayed with her and continued eating. In a few minutes her father came back and said, “You still eating?” and the mother replied, “I am going to eat enough so in the winter when they are all gone, I won’t wish I had eaten some more when I had a chance.”

Just like Esther, Joseph Smith, Joseph of Egypt, and many other scriptural figures, you can have the courage to stop your friends from speaking inappropriately about others. I was going through the same situation, and I had the courage to talk to my friends in a loving and understanding way. In the end, they accepted and understood how important it is to use pure and worthy language! Besides reading the scriptures and praying, fasting helps a lot in those situations. Pray and ask with faith that our Heavenly Father will give you the courage to speak and touch the hearts of your friends.
Paola H., 17, San Salvador, El Salvador

Zamu sped across the yard on his blue bicycle. His two-year-old brother, Zinathi, was right behind him on his red scooter.
“Come on, let’s go again!” Zamu said when they reached the edge of the yard. He turned around and pedaled as fast as he could back to the front. The wind rushed over his face.
“Zamu and Zinathi!” Zamu shouted.
Zinathi laughed. He shouted with Zamu.
“Zamu and Zinathi! Zamu and Zinathi!”
They rode across the yard, back and forth, back and forth, until Zamu’s legs were too tired to pedal anymore.
“Let’s take a break,” Zamu panted.
“Come over here and rest,” Dad called from the trampoline.
Zamu parked his bike and took Zinathi by the hand. He helped his little brother climb onto the trampoline. Then he climbed up and sat beside Dad.
“Were you having fun?” Dad asked.
“Yeah!” Zinathi said.
Zamu lay back on the trampoline with a sigh. The sky above him was bright blue, and the sun felt warm on his skin.
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Dad said.
Zamu nodded. He closed his eyes and listened to the birds sing while Dad talked to Zinathi. He was getting sleepy.
“Zamu.”
He opened his eyes. Zinathi was leaning over his face.
“What?” Zamu asked.
“Let’s go!” Zinathi pointed to his scooter.
“Not now. I’m resting.”
Zinathi’s mouth slipped into a frown.
“Sorry,” Zamu said. “I’m too tired.”
Zinathi tugged at Zamu’s arm. “Come on!”
“No! I already played with you!”
“Zamu,” Dad said.
Zamu looked over at him.
“One day, when he’s older, Zinathi will remember how you used to play together. The memories you make now will live in his heart.”
Zamu looked back into his little brother’s big brown eyes.
“Please?” Zinathi asked.
Zamu still didn’t feel like playing. But he did want to make memories with Zinathi.
He smiled. “OK.”
Zinathi’s face lit up. “Yay!”
Zamu hopped down from the trampoline and helped Zinathi get back on his scooter. Then he swung his leg over his own bike.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah!”
Together they rode across the yard. “Zamu and Zinathi!” they shouted again.
Zamu was still tired, but it was a good kind of tired. His legs felt strong as he pedaled behind Zinathi. I hope Zinathi will remember this, he thought. I’ll remember it forever.

Puebla, Mexico: He hadn’t attended church for years. Then an old friend, his new home teacher, invited him to stake conference.
Baptized in 1964, Velino Camela hadn’t been to Church for years, even though his wife and six children were active. Then Abel Toriz, his friend of more than twenty years, was assigned as his home teacher.
During the first visit, Brother Toriz and his son Enoc saw an open beer can on the table, but they didn’t say anything about it. And they visited every week, rather than once a month.
“We hope to see you at church because we miss you,” Brother Toriz would say.
“Well, my family will go, but I won’t,” would be the reply.
“But, hermano, you are the head of the home.”
“Yes, but I’m not going to church.”
Brother Toriz and his son kept visiting every week. Then, one evening, they invited Brother Camela again, and he said, “Yes, tomorrow I’m going to church.” And he did.
“He has kept coming!” says Brother Toriz. “And listen to this,” he adds with a chuckle, “he and his family always arrive before the meeting starts. That makes me very happy!”
“Well, I want to be there to take the emblems of the sacrament. That’s the main purpose,” Brother Camela replies.
After so much time and so many invitations, why did he finally decide to go back to church? “I was unhappy with my life,” he replies. “Then my friend Brother Toriz kept coming every week and inviting me, and I went! All I needed was somebody to push me!
“My hope now is to be sealed to my wife and children. As Brother Toriz says, I should take the opportunity now while they’re still at home. My oldest son and daughter are planning to go on missions.”
He looks over at his home teacher. “Brother Toriz has always been my brother.” (See: “A Little Encouragement.”)

The music we listen to can also have an effect on our lives. Listening to uplifting music will help us keep our thoughts and actions clean.
Tania Finn from Pocatello, Idaho, wrote about her experience of changing the kind of music she listens to.
“While on my drive to school every day, I played some instrumental music that allowed me to clear my thoughts and receive revelation for my life from my Father in Heaven. It was a testimony builder for me because I knew I was starting off every day feeling the Spirit.
“As I look back on the month of December (2000), I can see the Lord’s hand guiding me through my life. I know that it was because my spirit was prepared to listen to the Holy Ghost. I know what an important part the Holy Ghost plays in our lives, and I was glad to know that I was able to have the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life by choosing good music.”