Gospel Story Finder

By then, Sister Okazaki had come to acknowledge the complexity of her ethnic and cultural status. Worried about how others would perceive them after the Japanese military bombed Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, Sister Okazaki and her mother gathered and burned every Japanese memento they owned. But then she looked in the mirror and thought, “I have never set foot in Japan. I am not Japanese in my heart. But I cannot run away from myself. My eyes, my skin, and my hair are Japanese.”1

Young members like Ferrán Silvestre are representative of the up-and-coming generation of Barcelona Saints. Ferrán finally joined the Church at age twenty, although his parents had been baptized when he was twelve. When two missionaries gained Ferrán’s trust, he listened to the discussions. Those sessions, along with his study of the Book of Mormon, brought him an undeniable spiritual confirmation of the truth of the gospel.

After spending a year in compulsory military service, Ferrán still wanted to go on a mission, although by then he was in his mid-twenties. He has now returned from a mission to Washington, D.C., which he describes as “the greatest experience of my life.”

When the Australian Mission formally opened in 1851, another teenager, 16-year-old Rosa Clara Friedlander, and her friend Mary Ann Cline, walked eight miles every Sunday to attend meetings in Sydney. They seldom missed a meeting and enjoyed choir practices. Later, Rosa Clara is remembered for her kindness in nursing a desperately ill missionary. Still later, she was commended for her courage during a shipwreck on her way to Utah.

With the help of my family, we decided to start a Billion Graves assignment, taking pictures at the Anfield cemetery in Liverpool. Everything was okay because the headstones were clear, and it was easy to take legible pictures- although we had to deal with English weather, trying to avoid the pouring rain, something difficult to achieve. The cemetery was about 20 minutes from our home.
We then realised that the task was too big, as it was not close enough, so we searched for something smaller and closer to our home. That is when we started at St Chad’s cemetery which was just five minutes from home. Whenever it was not raining, we just ran to take pictures.
There was a lot to do, not because of the number of headstones, but because of the challenges we had when we got there. We needed gloves to remove the grass and dust the leaves off the headstones, to get clear pictures. We found loads of weeds to remove, even stinging nettles (Urtica dioica) and we got many stings on our arms. There were so many weeds and we even found trees growing from some of these headstones.
Many headstones were buried in the ground so that the names and dates were underground. That was when we started bringing small shovels to remove the soil and dig up the headstones to read the information we could not see. We took spatulas, brushes and knee pads, to help in this work. Our tool bag kept growing bigger each time.
At the end of a row of headstones, we found a whole family: all five of their children had died in the same year. When we got home, we did some research and found out there was a cholera epidemic in that same year in England. We could feel the grief of that mother who buried all her children.
One day we found 2 headstones full of names, but they were buried in the ground, so we started digging and it took some time to uncover both headstones. But as I was observing what we had just done, I realised that there was a gap between those gravestones. I checked with my shoe, and there it was another huge headstone that we needed to unbury as well.
There were lots of challenges to overcome, but as a family, we were also blessed to know that this assignment needed to be done, and we felt appreciation from the ones on the other side of the veil that their information could be available online. This was a reminder of the words of King Benjamin (Mosiah 2:17): “when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God.”
When I had served for about twenty months, we reached 10,000 pictures taken and I received a special shirt for that achievement from Elder and Sister Hoar, my Service Mission Leaders.
In my last month, my mum went with me during the Easter break. It was a sunny day, but there were some grey clouds threatening on the horizon. We started taking the pictures and we really wanted to take advantage of my mother’s time off from work, but the grey clouds started getting closer and darker. We prayed asking Heavenly Father for help to achieve our goal. And then, in a blink of an eye, there was some wind and the clouds moved, and it was sunny again. And it happened again, so we prayed once more, and we had sun a second time. We did this three times, and we had positive results from our prayers each time. We completed our goal: we finished that section, and we ended up taking 405 pictures on that day.
When we were going back to the car, instead of going through the path on the side, we decided to cross over the section which we had done before. It was then when my mum felt like someone was calling to be found and we were prompted to look down.
There it was, a small headstone, probably no more than 15 by 20 cm, with two names on it that we had not recorded. If my mother had not followed that prompting, we would have missed that couple.
That experience reminded me that sometimes the veil between this life and the life beyond becomes very thin. There are so many people in the spirit world that didn’t get the chance to have the gospel in their lives, and we are the ones who can help them. It has been an incredible opportunity for all our family to serve others on the other side of the veil and, as President Nelson said, “[Now is] the most crucial time in the history of the world, to help gather Israel” because “the worth of souls is great in the sight of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 18:10).
I am grateful for the opportunity I have had to serve as a service missionary, to help people on both sides of the veil and for the love of my family who helped me to serve.
Elder Flores uploaded 16,431 pictures to Billion Graves by the end of his mission.

Our present-day prophet, Spencer W. Kimball, has a great love for all the children of the Church. AFriend reader wrote to share with you an experience that expresses our prophet’s love.
“My name is Margo Busch, I am seven years old and live in San Antonio, Texas. I have three sisters and one brother. Something very special happened to our family. When we were on a 747 jet flying from Salt Lake City to Augsburg, Germany, we saw the prophet on the plane. We wanted to talk to him, but the stewardess wouldn’t let us. We were sad because we really wanted to meet him. So my sisters and I drew some pictures and the stewardess took them to him, and he answered by writing back to us on the pictures. When the plane landed, we were the last ones to leave. As we got off the plane the prophet was there waiting for us to shake our hands. Spencer W. Kimball really loves children very much and everyone in our family loves him too.”

Three years later, young Patrick found himself in boarding school back in England feeling great loneliness for his parents, a loneliness cushioned only by their encouraging letters.
“Harry Potter definitely had it cushy at Hogwarts by comparison. It was hard,” he says of boarding school. “I’d go home only for Christmas, Easter, and summer. I made little calendars on sheets of paper, putting a line through each day, counting down the days until I could return to my family.”
A few years later, while Patrick was at his second boarding school in England, a powerful storm blew in from the Irish Sea. The resulting storm surge flooded 5,000 homes in the surrounding area. Patrick and his classmates were called upon to help with the massive cleanup.
“I still remember the weight of the sodden carpets and the stench of it all,” he says. “But I remember digging in and getting the work done with my fellow school friends. And I remember the people and their gratitude.”
That experience was perhaps Patrick’s first glimpse into the mutual blessings of rendering and receiving service. Later, he realized that his teenage feelings of insecurity had left him “while I was involved in this great effort to assist our neighbors.”

Even Maricar Mendoza, who admits she’s somewhat shy, didn’t hesitate to raise her hand when her teacher asked who in the class wasn’t Catholic. Maricar felt she had to speak up. “I said, ‘Ma’am, I’m a Mormon.’ I explained to her what our church is, and I was able to discuss a lot of things, such as latter-day prophets, Joseph Smith, and the plan of salvation.”

Maricar still considers herself shy. But she’s glad she spoke up.

But unity between members cannot simply be attributed to Dominican warmth and hospitality. Leaders and members alike work hard to maintain closeness and cooperation, a sometimes difficult accomplishment when people of every social class come together as they do in the Church. People who have otherwise remained distant from each other socially, geographically, even religiously need inspired leadership, and Dominican Church leaders such as Santiago district president Ramón Lantigua and his wife, Victoria, have provided just that.

“The problem of class differences is something I’ve prayed about a great deal,” Ramón comments. He noticed that sometimes at Church gatherings, the women of high social standing would embrace each other upon meeting, while giving only obligatory greetings to the other sisters. “Would the Lord do that if he were here—smile only to the high society?” Ramón questioned. Victoria was bothered by activities such as gift exchanges that “for the wealthy are no problem. But the poorer members have to save and save just to buy one small gift.”

Now serving as a branch Relief Society president, Victoria plans activities that avoid bringing out class differences and that value everyone’s talents. President Lantigua encourages leaders to set good examples by treating everyone “equally and as a child of God. After all, members follow their leaders’ examples.”

The result? A togetherness that serves to make new, old, and nonmembers feel completely welcome. When César and Lillian Lozano were baptized in 1989 after having lived in the United States, Spain, and Puerto Rico, they received such a warm reception from Dominican members that “we knew this had to be God’s church. People were so good to each other.”

Jud Vorwaller, 19, was in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat the summer before. In his senior year he sang in his high school choir. “I didn’t know I could sing,” Jud says. “A friend prompted me to try out. I didn’t want to because I was shy. Last year I had one solo and I was scared to death to do it. Opening night was nerve-racking. This year [when he had a lead role] I wasn’t nervous. I knew I had a lot to do, and if I got nervous, I was really in trouble.”

What has this experience done for Jud? “I’m not nearly as shy as before. I have more confidence in myself.” For someone headed for the mission field, that’s not a bad accomplishment.

He once gave an order that no one could enter the munition lab wearing military boots or spurs, for fear that a spark struck by the iron might cause an explosion. A guard was stationed at the door to enforce the order.
One day José appeared wearing both boots and spurs. The guard stopped him. “You cannot pass, my general,” he said.
“I was the one who gave the order,” answered José, “so I can change it.”
“True,” replied the guard, “but up to now the order stands. You cannot go in.”
The next day José came back but again the guard refused to let him enter the lab wearing his boots and spurs. José left and later returned wearing a pair of sandals.
In a few minutes the guard was summoned to the general’s office. José de San Martín put out his hand in greeting and said, “I have brought you here to congratulate you. It is always good to know a man who obeys orders.”

I loved playing soccer on my school team. But I couldn’t go to many of the games because they were on Sunday. I wanted to keep the Sabbath day holy.
One day my coach asked why I did not come to games on Sundays. I explained that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I told him that Sunday is a special day for me. I only do things that help me remember Jesus Christ and get closer to Him. Later the coach said that there was a game the next Sunday. I told him that I would not be at the game. The coach said that was fine and not to worry.
A few minutes later the coach asked for everyone’s attention. The game had been changed to Saturday! I felt so happy.
After practice, a boy came over and said, “Thank you very much!” I asked him why he thanked me. He said, “I go to my church on Sundays too. I am grateful you told the coach about your beliefs. I would not have gone to the game either.” After that day, the boy and I became very good friends.
From this experience I gained a new friend and the chance to go to the game. The next year, I became the captain of my school’s soccer team. But the best thing I learned is to always be faithful to the Lord. If I am faithful to Jesus Christ, He will always bless me.

Our older son, Cornel, had stamped in out of the snow for a brief visit after a late afternoon class when the call came. Automatically reaching for the phone, as he had done so often before his recent marriage, he listened briefly, asked, “Where are you?” and began to zip up his parka, still beaded with melting snow. He said, “Okay,” and hung up.
To our questioning looks he answered simply, “Ryan can’t get his car started and needs a push.” At the door he suddenly grinned and said, “I wonder if every family gets as much mileage out of Proverbs 17:17 as we do.”

Betsy King Duzette waded into the frigid water of the Mississippi River. The 58-year-old widow and convert from Connecticut was then baptized for her uncles, mother-in-law, and her husband’s stepfather.
The Prophet Joseph Smith had recently taught the Saints, in August 1840, about the doctrine of baptism for the dead. In their excitement, they performed baptisms in the river, since the Nauvoo Temple was not completed. Women were baptized for men and men for women. Soon, however, the Lord revealed to Joseph Smith that baptisms for deceased ancestors must be done in dedicated temples (see Doctrine and Covenants 124:28–35). And in 1845, Brigham Young announced that women should be baptized for women and men for men.
Betsy’s husband, Philemon Duzette, had died six years earlier. She braved the chilly waters to be baptized for his deceased relatives as well as her own. That included baptism for Philemon’s stepfather, Jesse Peas, who died 50 years earlier when Betsy was a young girl. She may never have met him but likely knew of him and knew his name and his relationship to Philemon and his mother, Martha Wing. Betsy had known Martha when she was alive.
Betsy was baptized as proxy for Jesse almost immediately following the revelations on baptism for the dead. And she and her husband named one of their children after Jesse. Philemon’s biological father, also named Philemon, died when he was an infant, and Jesse Peas became his stepfather when Philemon was three and helped Martha raise him.
Just as Betsy King Duzette believed and trusted when she waded into the Mississippi River on behalf of her stepfather-in-law, we, all of us, can be connected, sealed, bound, and welded together eternally.

I’d like to begin by sharing a story that touches my heart.
One evening a man called his five sheep to come into the shelter for the night. His family watched with great interest as he simply called, “Come on,” and immediately all five heads lifted and turned in his direction. Four sheep broke into a run toward him. With loving-kindness he gently patted each of the four on the head. The sheep knew his voice and loved him.
But the fifth sheep didn’t come running. She was a large ewe that a few weeks earlier had been given away by her owner, who reported that she was wild, wayward, and always leading the other sheep astray. The new owner accepted the sheep and staked her in his own field for a few days so she would learn to stay put. He patiently taught her to love him and the other sheep until eventually she had only a short rope around her neck but was no longer staked down.
That evening as his family watched, the man approached the ewe, which stood at the edge of the field, and again he gently said, “Come on. You aren’t tied down anymore. You are free.” Then lovingly he reached out, placed his hand on her head, and walked back with her and the other sheep toward the shelter.

The prison guard brought a letter to the jail cell. The three young men inside were very surprised, for none of them had received mail or visitors for weeks. One prisoner had been charged with murder; another had been arrested as a tramp. The third—and youngest—was an American who had been brought to the prison because he was distributing missionary tracts and telling the people in Austria about Joseph Smith and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Thomas Biesinger was alone the morning two police officers pulled him out of bed and informed him that a Protestant minister had signed a complaint against him. He was taken to a small dirty jail cell that was furnished with only three hard-straw mattresses. No food or drink was given to him for more than twenty-four hours, and he wondered if he would ever live to leave the place.
The two prisoners already confined in the cell and many of the guards spoke only in ridicule to the heartsick and homesick young elder. They believed he was a leader from America who had come to Austria to persuade people to become Mormon slaves.
Now the three inmates watched the guard wave the letter in the air. No one moved. Finally the guard motioned for Elder Biesinger to take the envelope.
A letter! What an unexpected break in the long days that had stretched into more than a month of lonely imprisonment.
The letter was about Elder Hammer, his former companion who had gone to Germany two weeks before Elder Biesinger’s arrest. The letter reported that Elder Hammer was critically ill with smallpox and desperately in need of help.
Elder Biesinger begged for permission to visit his friend for just a few days. He promised to return and spend extra time in jail, but permission was denied. Finally the jailer agreed to let Elder Biesinger write a letter to his companion, provided the prisoner would go before the judge and receive approval for the letter to be sent.
All day and all night Elder Biesinger offered fervent silent prayers for his sick companion and for guidance in writing the letter. At last he began to put on paper the thoughts that came to him. He promised in the name of Jesus Christ that through the power of the priesthood Elder Hammer would live and be able to return to his family in America.
The next morning the young prisoner appeared before the judge. When the judge read the unusual letter, he was silent for a long time. He looked at the young man before him and then reread the letter. Finally the judge finished reading, was silent a moment, and then quietly gave permission for the letter to be sent.
Although there had been little hope for Elder Hammer’s recovery, the promise given in the letter was soon fulfilled!
Some weeks later Elder Biesinger was released from prison, and he began once more to try to teach the people in Austria who would listen. One person who listened and was later baptized a member of the Church was a police official who had been greatly impressed by the missionary while he was in prison.
Before long another elder was sent from the Swiss and German Mission so Elder Biesinger would again have a companion, but soon after his arrival the two young men were visited by police officers who gave them only twenty-four hours to pack and leave the country.
After World War I, Elder Biesinger was again called to go back to Austria. This time he stayed long enough to help establish a strong mission in that country.
Today many people in Austria are members of the Church. There are branches in Vienna, Braunau, Innsbruck, Salzburg, and other areas. Church members are viewed with much more favor by the government and other people than they were when Thomas Biesinger wrote his remarkable letter from a dirty little jail cell and blessed a desperately ill elder.

1 Agnes tried not to squirm in the narrow bunk so that she wouldn’t wake her little sister, Sarah, lying beside her. She pulled the blanket up over her ears, but even that didn’t keep out the faint tom-tom beat of drums from across the river. Father insisted that the Indians were friendly to the settlers, but Agnes was still afraid. Finally she fell asleep.
2 Agnes felt like she’d only been asleep a few minutes when little Sarah pounced on her, pulling back the blanket and saying, “Up, Aggie. It’s morning—get up!” Mama was ladling hot oatmeal into their bowls. “Your father and Tom have left already to help the new family build their cabin,” she told the two girls.
3 Agnes’s spirits rose at the mention of new neighbors, even though they would live miles away. Maybe there’ll be a girl my age, she hoped, someone to take the place of Emily, far away in Scotland.
Loud banging startled them, and before anyone could reach the cabin door, young Billy Harris burst in. “Mrs. McTavish, it’s Ma. She’s feeling bad, and the baby’s coming. Please come and help!”
4 Agnes quickly helped her mother gather up some things to take, while Billy jumped around, getting in the way. “Now, Agnes,” Mama said, “you’ll have to be in charge until Papa and Tom get back.” Agnes gulped but only said, “Don’t worry about us, Mama. We’ll be OK.”
5 As Mama and the boy set off, Agnes asked, “Now, what shall we do today?” Sarah pleaded, “Play with your shoes! Dance on the tree stump!” Agnes laughed. “Your favorite game!” Sarah clumped up the steps to the upper room and came down dangling the shoes by their laces. The shoes had become a link with the past for Agnes.
6 As Agnes put on the shoes, many wonderful memories of Scotland came back to her. At the door she began to wonder if they should leave the cabin. What if the Indians are watching? Her stomach tightened with fear. Not wanting to frighten Sarah, however, Agnes let herself be pulled outside.
7 But there was no happy spring in her step as she went through a Scottish dance routine on the tree stump. She finally stopped, panting, and took off the shoes and put them on the stump.
Sarah was coaxing for a turn just as Agnes heard a rustle in the brush. She spun, terrified, and was sure that she caught a glimpse of an Indian!
8 Grabbing Sarah’s hand, Agnes ran back to the cabin, then barricaded the door with the stout plank as her father did each night. Sarah cried, “Aggie, we forgot the shoes! I’ll go get them.” “No!” Agnes cried. Then, gaining control of herself, she softened her voice, adding, “Leave them, Love. We can get them later.”
9 The day dragged by slowly. As Agnes did small jobs in the cabin, she kept scanning the clearing through the window, looking for anything unusual. Then late in the afternoon she suddenly realized that her beautiful shoes were no longer on the stump!
Shouts from outside told Agnes that her father and brother were back, and she saw her mother, too, clambering out of the horse-drawn cart. “This is no gilded coach,” her mother joked, “but it saved me a long walk home. Papa found out that I was at the Harrises’ and picked me up. The Harrises have a fine new baby son. We’ll take some dinner over to them tomorrow.”
10 That evening Agnes told the family about seeing an Indian and bringing Sarah inside and about the shoes vanishing. Mama stroked her daughter’s hair and said, “I can see that you have the makings of a fine, strong pioneer woman!”
11 The next morning Sarah looked out the door and shouted, “Aggie! Mama! Look! There are some slippers on the stump. Come and see!” But what Sarah thought were slippers sitting on the stump were really soft leather moccasins with beaded embroidery down the front.
12 Agnes quickly looked toward the river. On the opposite bank she saw a tall, leather-shirted Indian man moving forward out of the trees. Then another figure came into view, an Indian girl waving in a friendly gesture and holding up Agnes’s shoes by their long laces.
It took a minute before Agnes understood. Then she smiled and held up the beaded moccasins and waved back.

Because of a drought, my husband, John, and I had to either sell our beef cattle at a loss or move them from the Melba Valley, in southwestern Idaho, USA. Fortunately, John found summer range at a cousin’s family farm, located in the Preston area, about 300 miles (480 km) away.
We arranged for a trucker to take all 40 cattle in one load, but he didn’t like the looks of a rough ranch road that led to the cattle pasture, still 20 miles (32 km) away. To our disappointment, he unloaded them at nearby stockyards. There we were, late in the day with 40 head of cattle to transport and no way to do it.
John stopped a local farmer, explained our plight, and asked for help. Minutes later Bishop Steve Meeks and his young son followed us to the stockyards to see what could be done.
The cattle had become unsettled. Seeing a broken section of fence at the stockyard, they ran toward it, seeking freedom. All the cattle hurdled the fence into another enclosure—except for one cow. She managed to get most of the way over, but one hind leg slipped between two fence planks. She ended up hanging precariously on the fence, one front foot barely touching the ground. She kicked her other hind leg furiously in an effort to free herself.
Releasing the cow would require hoisting equipment. If she broke a leg, we would have to put her down. To lose a cow would put considerable financial strain on us.
The cow weighed more than 1,000 pounds (455 kg), and we could not get near her, nor help her if we did. The havoc on the fence made the rest of the cattle nervous.
I didn’t think there was anything we could do, but at that moment I remembered Amulek’s counsel in the Book of Mormon: “Cry unto him when ye are in your fields, yea, over all your flocks” (Alma 34:20). I withdrew myself from the others, knelt down, and prayed with all the sincerity of my heart. Concluding my supplication, I pleaded, “Heavenly Father, please help the cow.”
I returned to the corral, the prayer still lingering on my lips. By now the cattle had quieted somewhat, including the one on the fence.
Suddenly, the largest of the milling animals broke away from the herd. Resisting our efforts to turn her back, she moved toward the dangling cow. Lowering her head, she dropped to her knees, forced her way under the stranded cow, and staggered slowly to her feet. She lifted the tangled cow into the air and then lowered her. The cow was free! A hoist could not have done as well.
As the two cows ran back to the herd, Bishop Meeks stared in disbelief at what he had just witnessed. My tears flowed as I whispered, “Thank You, Heavenly Father.”
Anyone who knows cattle will tell you that cows do not reason things out in their minds. But there is an explanation for this incident. Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers. He answered mine—at a stockyard in Preston, Idaho.

When my class was studying architecture this year in school, each student was assigned to prepare both a report and a three-dimensional model of a famous building or other structure. Since my parents were married in the Salt Lake Temple, it is very special to my family. My dad had the great idea of using sugar cubes to make my model of it. We thought that sugar cubes were perfect because their white color symbolized the purity of the temple. I realized that the shape of the cubes was also appropriate because the Salt Lake Temple was built using huge granite boulders that were cut by hand into blocks.
My five-year-old brother, Rollins, decided to make a temple, too. We thought his turned out to look a lot like the Manti Utah Temple.
Presenting the report let me tell my class a little about the Church and the importance of temples. My model was even put on display in the school media center for a few weeks! Everyone who saw it could read the label we made for it: The Salt Lake Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I look forward to my next chance to tell others about the Church.
Niles Wimber, age 8McDonough, Georgia

I recall a day when one of our children was leaving for school with his friend. I waved good-bye and called out, “Remember who you are.” As they walked away, I overheard the friend ask, “Why does your mother always say that to you? What does she mean?” I heard our son’s quick reply, “She means, ‘Be good.’” He was exactly right. We remember who we are by doing good, and we do good when we remember who we are.

Most people don’t start thinking about Christmas until jolly songs play on the radio and festive decor fills the malls. But Rachel H. was thinking about it back in May of 2010. She wasn’t waiting for any physical present; instead, she was preparing to audition for and perform in Savior of the World: His Birth, a musical production depicting the birth of Jesus. When she auditioned for the stake production, she didn’t realize how much of a gift the experience would be.
When the cast list was posted a few weeks later, Rachel was excited to see that she had been given the part of Mary in one of the two casts. “I was so happy to have been chosen to play the part of Mary. I was excited but very nervous,” she recalls. Rachel was just one of nearly 300 youth who participated in the production.
Preparing for Savior of the World was a daunting task, especially with so many youth participating. The teens were grouped into two casts—the red cast and the blue cast—to allow more youth to participate. Each cast had over 40 assigned parts, a dance ensemble, and an angel choir with about 50 performers.
Rehearsals began in mid-August and continued until the show’s performances started in mid-November. Brie S. (Mary’s Mother, red cast) recalls her initial feelings on the amount of time they had to put into the production. “The four-hour practices every Saturday afternoon were not very appealing,” Brie says. “But whenever I chose to fulfill my promise of attending rehearsal, I was always blessed with a happy feeling. I’m so grateful for the opportunity I had to be in Savior of the World. I gained a stronger testimony of the divine truths our Savior has given us.”
Throughout the months of practice and especially on the days leading up to and during the six performances, the cast members relied heavily on prayer. “Before every performance, my counterpart and I would pray to perform with the Spirit and that we could help those in the audience feel the same Spirit we felt throughout all our rehearsals,” says Taylor H. (Zacharias, blue cast).
When problems arose, the cast members and production staff noticed many blessings that allowed them to perform the musical.
Shawn G. (Joseph, red cast) remembers how one of his props would malfunction whenever he prepared to go on stage. “Every time I would attempt to turn on my battery-powered candle, it would quickly turn off. No matter how many times I pushed the button and fidgeted with the batteries, the candle would not light backstage,” he says. “However, every single time I went out on stage, it always lit perfectly without fail.”
On the final night of the performance, one of the microphones wasn’t working. “With minutes to go until the start of the show, the directors still couldn’t get this person’s microphone to work. One of the backstage managers began to walk through the halls and ask everyone in sight to say a prayer, asking for help with the technical difficulty,” Brie recalls. “Before bowing my head, I looked around me to see every single cast member humbly bowing his or her head to pray in faith to our Father in Heaven. Sure enough, as we sang the opening number and started the show, all of the microphones were working perfectly.”
In addition to witnessing miracles, the cast members felt spiritually uplifted by the music of the show.
Jamie V. (Elizabeth, blue cast) shares her experience, saying, “I remember the music in particular and what a huge role it played in delivering the message of the Savior. When I performed my scene with music, I was so overcome with the Spirit and I knew that it was the Lord’s work we were doing.”
Catherine H. (Angel Choir, red cast) had similar feelings about the impact of the music: “Savior of the World brought on such a constant powerful and spiritual feeling every time we worked on it,” she says. “When we sang ‘Come Deliver Us,’ you could just feel the power of the music and the emotions of the song. I was so grateful to bear my testimony through song.”
Even after the production had finished, the cast members found strength and comfort in the music from the show. Lauren A. (Shepherd Jeshua, blue cast) talks about the testimony meeting that followed the final performance: “After we bore our testimonies, our leaders decided to close by singing one of the songs—‘Come, Lord Jesus.’ The second we stood up and began singing, the Spirit in the room was strengthened even more.”
For many of the youth, performing in Savior of the World had a profound effect on their testimonies of the gospel and of Jesus Christ.
Taylor recalls his experience as one of growth. “Savior of the World has forever changed how I will think about Christmas,” he says. “As I knelt as at the scene of Mary, Joseph, and the infant Savior, the Spirit testified to me that my Savior lives. The experience I had brought me more joy and happiness than I ever imagined. I now have a much deeper understanding for why Christ’s birth was heralded by angels and mortals alike.”
Daniel M. (Joseph, blue cast) says, “I felt so grateful to be a witness of this special moment that testifies to me that the Savior of this world did come to us in a humble stable to loving parents who knew of the sacredness of their calling. I now know so much more about my Savior’s birth and about how Mary and Joseph must have felt to be the ones chosen to raise this holy child.”
Rachel’s greatest Christmas gift was her strengthened testimony as a result of the production. “I grew so much closer to the Savior through prayers, scripture study, and pondering. He blessed me with a calm assurance that He cares about me. I was so worried, but when I just trusted in Him, He helped me to replace my fear with faith.”