Gospel Story Finder

Prison warden Kenyon J. Scudder has related this experience: A friend of his happened to be sitting in a railroad coach next to a young man who was obviously depressed. Finally the man revealed that he was a paroled convict returning from a distant prison. His imprisonment had brought shame to his family, and they had neither visited him nor written often. He hoped, however, that this was only because they were too poor to travel and too uneducated to write. He hoped, despite the evidence, that they had forgiven him.
To make it easy for them, however, he had written them to put up a signal for him when the train passed their little farm on the outskirts of town. If his family had forgiven him, they were to put a white ribbon in the big apple tree which stood near the tracks. If they didn’t want him to return, they were to do nothing, and he would remain on the train as it traveled west.
As the train neared his home town, the suspense became so great he couldn’t bear to look out of his window. He exclaimed, “In just five minutes the engineer will sound the whistle, indicating our approach to the long bend which opens into the valley I know as home. Will you watch for the apple tree at the side of the track?” His companion changed places with him and said he would. The minutes seemed like hours, but then there came the shrill sound of the train whistle. The young man asked, “Can you see the tree? Is there a white ribbon?”
Came the reply: “I see the tree. I see not one white ribbon, but many. There must be a white ribbon on every branch. Son, someone surely does love you.”
In that instant he stood cleansed by Christ.
His friend said, “I felt as if I had witnessed a miracle.”

In a testimony meeting in Bari, Italy, you can imagine my surprise when a young man stood up and said, “If it hadn’t been for the missionaries, I wouldn’t be here today.” He then went on to tell how his mother and grandparents had been found in Paris, France, by Elders Ben Walton and James Paramore 30 years earlier. After many meetings, the family was baptized. Now this son was on a mission. I later learned that over the years more than 170 people had been baptized by that family. I had been privileged to serve a mission, and those two and a half years were crucial to my testimony. I cannot thank God enough.

As if being a kid isn’t bad enough. I had to grow up next door to the girl with the All-American teeth. Allison (“two ls”) Adamson had the straightest, whitest teeth in the history of orthodontistry. Adults always commented on this. You could count on them to say, “Doesn’t the Adamson girl have lovely teeth?” every time they got together.
As for me, I was more interested in the fact that Allison took tap, tumbling, ballet, baton, and hula lessons after school. She also played the piano and collected dolls from different countries. Best of all, she had her own dog—a white poodle named Hercules. Me, I just had a goldfish named Ralph. You can probably see already how things were for me growing up next door to someone like Allison Adamson.
Because we were neighbors who happened to be LDS, Allison and I ended up doing things together all the time. During the summer we went to the pool with Allison’s mom, and during the winter we watched cartoons after school together. This made everyone think, of course, that we were best friends, and we were. Sort of.
The problem was that underneath all my smiles I was jealous of Allison. I wanted all the pretty girl things she had that my parents couldn’t buy for me so badly that my chest literally hurt at times. I wanted her dolls, her canopy bed with the foamy pink bedspread, her play makeup case with the play makeup. I can remember sitting in her white wicker rocker one day and telling her I’d trade my shoebox of Bazooka bubble gum wrappers for one of her bendable Barbies. She wasn’t interested, of course.
Our eighth birthdays were coming up in April, and one day on the way home from school Allison asked who was going to baptize me.
I hadn’t thought about it much. “I don’t know,” I confessed. “Who’s going to baptize you?”
“My dad,” she said proudly.
“Well I guess my dad will baptize me, too, then,” I told her. I’d never seen anyone baptized—I’m the oldest in my family—but I figured my dad could probably do it if someone showed him how.
Allison looked at me with wide disbelieving blue eyes. “But he can’t!” she exclaimed.
This was news to me. “Why?” I wanted to know.
“Because my mom says he can’t. My mom says he isn’t worthy.”
I didn’t know what the word worthy meant, but I didn’t like Allison’s tone.
“Yes he is too worthy,” I said.
“No he’s not.”
“Yes he is.”
Allison stopped and stared at me the way our third-grade teacher always stared at stupid Stewart Lufgren. “Your dad is not worthy, Brenda, because he doesn’t go to church and he smokes. I know he smokes because I can smell it when I go to your house.” She wrinkled her little button nose in distaste. “Don’t you know anything?”
My throat suddenly felt very tight. Blood was pounding in my ears. “I hate you, Allison Adamson,” I said finally. Then I turned and ran home.
Our house is so busy with people that no one noticed how miserable I was at first. At dinner, though, Mom squinted her eyes at me and said across the table, “Are you okay, Brenda honey?”
I nodded yes.
She came into my bedroom that night before I fell asleep. “Did something happen to you at school today, Brenda? You can tell me about it if you want to.”
“No, nothing happened,” I answered, as tonelessly as a telephone operator.
Mom just sat there on the foot of my bed for a minute. Then she said, “Do you want to talk to Daddy?” Sometimes I told him things I wouldn’t tell anybody else. But this time I shook my head. Hard.
“No!”
I lay awake in bed for a long time that night watching shadows skip across my wall. Yessir, Allison had it all—extra money for Weekly Reader paperbacks, a locket with pictures inside, a father who could baptize her.
That was the first time I realized that my dad was different. I mean I always knew he didn’t go to church, but that hadn’t added up to anything—you think your father is just like everybody else’s dad when you’re a kid. But Allison had opened my eyes. The day we were baptized, Allison, looking like she had just stepped out of a fairy tale in her long white gown, was taken into the font by her smiling father. I was baptized by my Uncle Bill. Dad sat in the congregation looking uncomfortable in a suit. His rough brown worker’s hands were folded in his lap.
Things changed some between my father and me after that. Not that you could tell by looking at us—he still teased and tickled me and called me Sport and I still begged him to take me to baseball games. For sure we loved each other. But I didn’t tell him private things anymore. And then, too, I started noticing all the ways he wasn’t worthy. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help myself.
If things changed between my father and me then, they changed even more between Allison and me. By the time we were freshmen in high school, we had pretty much gone our separate ways. Allison went from honors class to honors class while I wore an Army jacket and hung around the library with this nice but weird group of kids who all wanted to be science fiction writers when they grew up. Although she thought my friends were bad enough, it was the Army jacket that really got to Allison. “Only our boys in the armed forces should wear khaki,” she used to say.

A father sent his son on a long, dangerous, and difficult journey. The son was worried and asked, “Father, how can I be sure to arrive safely?”
The father smiled and told his son, “Do not worry. I have provided a way for you to receive all the help you will need.”
“How will I be able to get the help when I need it?” asked the boy.
His father replied, “It is simple: love and trust me more than anything else.”
“But how can I show you that I love and trust you more than anything else?” asked the son.
The father put a loving hand on his son’s shoulder and said, “I will know if you love and trust me more than anything else by the choices you make when I am not with you.”
The boy inquired, “But how will you know what choices I make when we are not together?”
“Oh, I will know,” replied his good father. Then he added, “Now go; it is time to begin your journey.”
After walking for two days, the boy ran out of food and water. Without money, feeling tired and weak, he saw a stand where a vendor was selling bread, fried yam, roasted plantain, and sachet water. Hungry and thirsty, the boy grabbed a sachet of water and a loaf of bread and ran off. As he ran, he remembered that his father had taught him that he would know whether the boy loved and trusted his father more than anything by the choices he would make on the journey. He knew that his father was an honest man and would never steal.
So the boy returned to the stand and returned the water sachet and bread to the vendor. The vendor smiled and told the boy that the boy’s father was a friend of his and had asked him to watch and see what the boy would do when he walked by the vendor’s stand. The vendor said, “This was a test of your character. If you had simply taken the sachet water and bread and not returned, then you would not have received any help from me and would instead have learned to be a thief.
The vendor continued, “However, because you chose to be honest like your father taught you, you are showing that you really do love and trust him more than anything else—even when you are very hungry and thirsty. You are learning to be a good and noble man like your father.” The vendor took the boy by the hand and said, “If you will work for it, I will give you the food and water you need.”
The boy continued the journey. He faced many temptations and difficulties on the journey. But he remembered the lesson he learned in returning the sachet water and bread. He tried to show by his day-to-day decisions that he truly loved his father more than anything or anyone else. By doing this, he found people all along the journey who his father had put on the path he traveled in order to teach, help, and encourage him. When he safely arrived at his destination, he had become a strong, honest man of great trust and noble character—just like his father.
Of the Israelites who did not live the law of the tithe, the Lord said: “Will a man rob God? Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say, Wherein have we robbed thee? In tithes and offerings.
“Ye are cursed with a curse: for ye have robbed me, even this whole nation” (Malachi 3:8–9). If the boy in the above story had not returned the things he stole, he would have been cursed to live the ways of the world and become a thief. By showing through his choice that he loved and trusted his father more than anything, he made it possible to receive the help his father had promised him throughout the journey.

As a young man working in the Administration Building, I was asked on one occasion by the President of the Council of the Twelve to take a companion and serve notice of a Church court on a man who had written various books critical of the Church and strongly apostate in their nature. His membership was in a California stake, but the stake president had sent the papers to Salt Lake City, where the man was residing at the moment.

My associate and I, both of us elders, went to his place of residence. I announced the purpose of our coming. He invited us in and motioned us to seats at the far side of the room away from the door. He stood by the front door so we could not get out until he had time to breathe out his fulminations against us. He was mean and vicious in what he said. He spoke threatening language. Fortunately he did not lay a hand on us. Neither of us was very big. Having completed our mission, we moved toward the door, opened it, and left.

At the time he was alive, his writings were read by many who shared his apostate doctrinal views. They were read by many who accepted his charges against certain of the General Authorities. He was false on both counts, but there were those who accepted his writings as true.

He was subsequently excommunicated from the Church, and that only increased his anger. Instead of acknowledging his errors, he lashed out with greater ferocity. And then he suddenly faded. People seemed to have no more interest in him. He has long since passed away. I know of no one who remembers him. Even the associate I took with me to serve the papers has passed on. I think I am the only one of those whom I know who even remembers the man’s name.

Making thoughtful choices develops a personal integrity and helps you come to really know yourself. When I was in elementary school, I wanted a chemistry set for Christmas. How I appreciated my parents for respecting my choice, even though it wasn’t a typical one for girls my age.

Alan thought about his own mission and the lessons he’d learned.
One lesson wasn’t learned until he’d been out for a year. His companion at that time was Elder Taylor, who at that time had been out only three months. They were working in a rural area south of Rochester, New York, and had nobody to teach. The zone leader had decided to move them to a new area in another town in a month.
One night after a week of broken appointments, people not at home, doors slammed in their faces, Elder Taylor asked, “I wonder why things are going so badly.”
“Maybe it’s because there’s a family still in this area who’s so golden that the adversary is trying to discourage us from finding them before we’re pulled out of this area.”
The spiritual confirmation had been so strong that for several minutes neither of them spoke.
“That’s it,” Alan said after a few minutes.
“Well, all we’ve got to do is find them,” Elder Taylor said.
After that the burden they carried was that they felt there was a family waiting for them but they couldn’t find anybody. Alan became more tense as the days passed.
One morning Elder Taylor suggested, “Why don’t we inspiration contact?”
“What’s that?” Alan had asked wearily, annoyed at his companion’s usually naive suggestions.
“We just drive around until we feel the promptings of the Spirit, and then we stop and visit the house.”
“Okay, we’ll try it. What have we got to lose?” They drove around their area. In a few minutes, Elder Taylor shouted, “Stop! Let’s visit that house.”
They parked and walked up to the house. A lady answered and said she wasn’t interested. The next house Elder Taylor tried had been vacant for two months. Alan tried one house and a dog nearly bit him.
By that time it was time for lunch. Alan was in a bad mood.
“We must be doing something wrong,” Elder Taylor announced. “Why don’t we fast?”
“Every time we turn around you want to fast,” Alan snapped. “What have you got against eating?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I want to get the most out of my mission.”
“What do you think I’m doing here?” Alan replied angrily.
They drove in silence the rest of the way to the apartment. Alan fixed some sandwiches and juice.
“I’m not eating,” Elder Taylor said cooly.
“Look, I’m the senior companion and I say you eat! You can’t fast every other day!”
They ate quietly, each feeling justified in his feelings about the other.
Finally Elder Taylor asked, “Do you want to try inspiration contacting again?”
“The way I feel now,” Alan replied, “I’d drive into the Atlantic Ocean before I’d ever feel any inspiration.”
“Then what are we going to do this afternoon?” Elder Taylor asked.
“I don’t know.” Alan looked out the window, afraid he was going to lose control of himself. “I want to be close to the Lord. But it’s so hard. Maybe the Lord can’t work through me.”
“I’m sure he can. Look, you’re the senior companion. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Alan glanced over at Elder Taylor. “Maybe if we prayed.”
After the prayer they got up off their knees and Elder Taylor asked, “What do you think?”
“I think we’ve got to get a plan.” Alan walked to the map of the area on the wall. “We’ve got one week left before the area is closed down. In that time we’re going to visit every house. Every house. And we’ll start right here,” his finger went down on one of the small towns in the area. “Then we’ll move south until we’ve visited every house.”
That afternoon they drove to the town that was to be their starting place. In the second house they found the family the Lord had prepared for them.
I should have known, Alan thought. The Lord explained it all in the ninth section of the Doctrine and Covenants. [D&C 9]

As the first girl to play on a varsity sports squad at Provo High, Kris found the tennis team a fun experience and good practice. But it was often hard on her opponents who were ribbed by friends for competing and losing to a girl. She graduated a semester early so she could devote more time to her game before entering BYU this fall.

“We explained at a fireside what we planned to do at the conference,” Jacie said. “We told them we were going to work and work hard, but we explained how they could help and how much good it would do for the farm.”

Evidently the appeal was convincing. “This is the biggest turnout we’ve ever had for a youth conference,” Jacie said. And Gary, who served on the steering committee with her, noted that more than 500 attended an activity originally planned for 300. “At first we were afraid people would be turned off by the idea of working, but it turned out to be one of the best ideas ever.”

We were coming down the hill feeling tired and frustrated. It was our 16th day in Sogod, Philippines. This town—a small paradise, really—faced a beautiful, tranquil bay, and Elder Archer, my American companion, and I were knocking on doors.
We had opened this area to missionary work, and we had spoken to a host of people as we climbed up and down the hills of the city. Yet nobody cared enough to listen to our message, and rejection filled our day with sorrow.
“Let’s stop and plan for a few minutes,” Elder Archer suggested, wiping his forehead. His neck and arms were sunburned, and my shoulders were aching from the weight of 30 copies of the Book of Mormon inside my backpack. We sat under a tree and looked at our weekly planner.
“Our next appointment is at 6:30 tonight. It’s only 3:30. What do you want to do?” Elder Archer asked.
“Let’s continue tracting. See that street going to the river? I think it’s a good area. And besides, it’s got plenty of shade with all the coconut trees,” I said.
As we made our way down the hill, I prayed in my heart that we would not be rejected again. As we reached an unfamiliar junction, we met an old couple carrying bamboo poles, bundles of wood, shingles, and other tools.
They seemed a little embarrassed when we offered to help carry their load. After some coaxing, they finally gave in to our insistence and off we went, not sure how far we had to go. We must have been quite a sight because as we entered the neighborhood, many people gathered on the street to see two strangers in white shirts and ties carrying this old couple’s bundles.
We were so surprised to find out the materials we were carrying were to be used to build a temporary home to replace the one toppled by a typhoon. We spent a few more hours talking with them, while a curious crowd gathered around us trying to find out who we were.
There were smiles and feelings of gratitude on the faces of this couple as we left, and we were so happy about what had happened. Carrying some bundles for this couple was all it took. But this experience taught me a valuable lesson.
That simple task seemed to open the doors to missionary work there. People didn’t forget what we had done, and they became more interested in hearing the gospel. Elder Archer and I witnessed how this experience, a simple act of service, blessed Sogod. I labored there for almost four months and witnessed wonderful growth of the Church.
I now understand the joy the Lord tells us comes in giving true service to others. There is a lasting joy in giving, in helping, and in bringing souls to the truth. We learned this for ourselves that day in Sogod.

Ashlie played in the backyard sprinklers with her new neighbor, Nicole. They screamed with delight, splashing each other in the cool water.
Ashlie stamped her wet footprint onto the porch. “I’m glad you moved in yesterday,” she said.
“Me too.” Nicole stamped her footprint next to Ashlie’s.
“Look, the same size!” Ashlie said.
Ashlie wanted to give Nicole something great, something for a new friend. She went inside to ask Mom about her idea.
“Can I give Nicole my Book of Mormon?”
“Don’t you think you should get to know her first?” Mom asked.
“But Mom, I do know her,” Ashlie said.
When it was time for Nicole to go home, Ashlie handed her a blue Book of Mormon. “I want you to have this. It’s a book about our church.”
“Thanks,” Nicole said.
But later that week, Nicole rang Ashlie’s doorbell and thrust the Book of Mormon at her. “My mom says I can’t have this. She says Mormons go to too much church.”
With tears puddling in her eyes, Ashlie showed Mom the Book of Mormon. “Maybe Nicole doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Ashlie.” Mom hugged her tight. “Sometimes becoming friends takes time. In the Book of Mormon, a missionary named Ammon wanted to teach the people of Lamoni about Jesus Christ. But he decided to get to know them first by serving them.”
Ashlie wiped her eyes. She remembered how Ammon had helped guard the king’s sheep and prepare his horses and chariots.
“Because Ammon served King Lamoni and showed him love, he was able to share the gospel with the king and his people,” Mom said.
Ashlie smiled. “Maybe I can still be Nicole’s friend.”
“And we can pray as a family to be missionaries to Nicole’s family,” Mom added.
Over the next few months, Ashlie prayed for Nicole and got to know her better. They played at school and on the weekends, and they exchanged treats on holidays.
One Saturday after Christmas, Nicole and Ashlie were playing when Mom stuck her head into Ashlie’s room. “Nicole, your mom is here. It’s time for you to go home.” Mom motioned for Ashlie to come into the hall. “You could invite Nicole to church with us tomorrow,” she suggested.
“What if she doesn’t want to come?” Ashlie asked. “What if her mom says no?”
Mom squeezed Ashlie’s arm. “You don’t know until you ask. If she says yes, I’ll ask her mom.”
Ashlie went back into her room and started cleaning up.
“Maybe you could play at my house tomorrow,” Nicole said.
“I don’t play with friends on Sunday because we go to church and do family things,” Ashlie said. “But you could come to church with us.”
“OK!”
Ashlie walked Nicole to the door and tugged on Mom’s hand. “Nicole said yes,” she whispered.
Mom smiled and asked Nicole’s mom if Nicole and her older brother Devin could come to church.
“Well, are you sure that’s not a problem?” Nicole’s mom asked.
“We would be happy to take them,” Mom said.
Nicole’s mom smiled. “All right. What time?”
Just before it was time to leave for church the next day, Devin and Nicole came over dressed in Sunday clothes. After Primary, Nicole linked arms with Ashlie and said, “I liked the singing and lesson time the best.”
A few weeks later, Nicole came to church again. A Primary activity was announced.
“Do you want to come?” Ashlie asked.
“Yes,” Nicole said, “but I’ll have to ask my mom.”
All week Ashlie waited, but Nicole didn’t say anything about it. On Saturday morning, Mom handed Ashlie her jacket. “Go get in the van. We’re going to be late.”
“But what about Nicole?” Ashlie said. “Can I go see if she can come?”
“Sure, but hurry,” Mom said.
Nicole answered the door in her pajamas.
“Do you want to come to our Primary activity?” Ashlie asked.
“Yes. Just a minute!” Nicole shut the door, and when it finally opened again she and Devin both came out dressed and smiling.
Soon Devin started attending church with a friend he had met at the Primary activity. Nicole kept coming with Ashlie.
“Do all of you have your scriptures?” Mom asked one Sunday morning before they headed to church. Everyone said yes except for Nicole. “Would you like a Book of Mormon?” Mom asked.
Nicole nodded yes.
Ashlie was worried that Nicole would give it back, like last time.
That evening, there was a knock at the door. Devin and Nicole stood on the porch, Nicole holding her copy of the Book of Mormon.
Ashlie’s stomach flopped.
But then Devin smiled and said, “Can I have a book too? My mom says it’s OK.”
After Nicole and Devin left, Mom said, “Ashlie, you’ve been a great missionary!”
Ashlie smiled. “That’s because I got to know them first.”

Although I was raised in the Church, I became less active when I was 18. Later, when I moved from eastern Germany to Frankfurt, I was invited to live with a member family. I knew this could be an opportunity for me to have a new start and become active in the Church again.

1. Integrity is the foundation of our character and all other virtues. In 1853 the Saints commenced the construction of the Salt Lake Temple. For the better part of two long, hard years the Saints dug the excavations and laid the foundation: over eight feet (2.4 m) deep, made of sandstone. One day the foreman came to President Brigham Young with this devastating news: there were cracks in the blocks of sandstone. Brigham Young was faced with this dilemma: (1) do the best they could to patch up the cracks and build a temple of much less weight and grandeur than anticipated or (2) rip out two years of work and replace it with a granite foundation that could support the magnificent temple God envisioned for them. Fortunately, President Young chose the latter course.3

Ask a child to leave the room while you hide a picture of a home. Invite the child back in, and ask him or her to go “home.” Tell the child there is someone who can help. Turn off the lights, give a child a flashlight, and have him or her guide the “lost child” to the “home” by shining the light on the floor. Our latter-day prophets have taught the importance of families. Just as the flashlight helped light the way to the home, our prophet’s counsel becomes the tool we need to strengthen our families. Cut a picture of a family into puzzle pieces, and write counsel from our prophets on each piece. (See recent conference issues and “Come Listen to a Prophet’s Voice.”) Then attach the pieces to tools used for building (screwdriver, measuring tape, and so on). Divide the Primary into groups, and have each group choose a tool. Ask the groups to discuss how the prophet’s counsel can be a tool to build our families and be prepared to (a) say what they can do to follow the counsel and (b) suggest a song or hymn that reinforces the counsel. Have them place their puzzle pieces on the board, and report and sing.

Soon the travelers were aboard a train bound for Nebraska, where the railroad ended. Then their belongings were loaded onto ox-drawn wagons for the long trek across the plains to Utah.
The route lay along the Platte River that had to be forded several times. On one such occasion, someone took Albertina from her tired mother and set her on one of the loaded wagons being drawn through the water by oxen. All went well until the animals tried clambering up the slippery bank and the load shifted, throwing the little girl into the river.
“Mother! Mother!” Albertina cried as she struggled to keep her head above water.
Anna plunged into the cold water and was immediately caught in the strong current. She managed to catch hold of Albertina, but she was unable to swim as her heavy, sodden skirt wrapped around her, pinning her arms and legs. She struggled vainly to reach the shore as the current dragged them into deeper water.
The captain saw Anna’s plight but stood by helplessly. Suddenly, as though in answer to Anna’s silent prayer, her feet brushed against a submerged sandbar. Still clutching Albertina, Anna’s floundering subsided, and she gained a temporary footing on the sand just below the surface of the swirling water. A moment later a rope was thrown to them and, after a short struggle in the cold water, friendly hands reached out and helped the two to safety.
That evening as they sat by the campfire drying their wet clothes, Albertina looked up at her mother and said, “Mama, I was afraid when I fell in. Weren’t you afraid too?”
“Yes,” replied Anna, “but when those you love are in danger, you don’t let fear keep you from trying with all your might to save them. And remember, Albertina, our Savior is always near to hear our prayers for help.”

Harold B. Lee learned to recognize the Spirit at an early age. One day he started toward some rundown sheds, but a voice called his name and told him not to go there. Harold obeyed. He continued to follow the Spirit throughout his life, such as when he led the Church Welfare Program. He also led the Church department that developed learning materials to help members recognize the Spirit in their own lives.

Thank you for putting the story “The Miracle I Needed” in the February 2010 issue. I had surgery for scoliosis at age 12, when I was in the sixth grade. It was so wonderful to hear about someone else who went through the same thing I did. I know that Heavenly Father helped us get through a hard time in our lives. He helped us to recover fast and to come out of it stronger than we were before. Heavenly Father is by our side when we go through the trials of life. After reading that story, I realized that I am not alone.
Lexi B., Utah

Let me tell you of one last example of another young man. We’ll call him John. John became quite ill as he was serving his mission in a distant land. He had such serious digestive problems that his mission president was considering sending him home. Then one day while he was out walking, he felt a pain in his foot so severe that he couldn’t even walk to the discussion he and his companion had scheduled.
The doctor decided that John had arthritis caused by the damp weather and suggested he stay off his foot for a few days.
The young missionary did so. He also had a priesthood blessing, but nothing happened. John was a district mission leader at the time, and his district missionaries had just begun to baptize in a city where there had not been baptisms for some time. He could not understand how the Lord could allow him to waste such valuable time when his district was just beginning to have success.
A week went by, two weeks, three weeks, a month with no improvement. Finally he was taken to the capital city, where there were better medical facilities. An X-ray revealed that a bone in his foot had been fractured and then grown back together incorrectly. The doctors tried giving him special electrical treatments that were supposed to fuse the bone correctly, but the treatments didn’t help. This problem, along with his other medical problems had him somewhat discouraged. Again, the consideration came to send him home.
One morning, after nearly three months, he stepped out of bed to find absolutely no pain in his foot. He stepped on the foot gently, then stamped on it, then ran with his companion for a kilometer, totally healed. With great joy he returned immediately to the mission district to work.
Two more weeks went by. Then a letter arrived from home. “Dear son,” it began, and then followed a paragraph or two of chastisement for not having told his family about his ailments. They had learned of his problems from another missionary, a friend of his, who had written home. In great love they wrote, “As a family, we have begun a fast and constant prayer for you. We have also placed your name on the temple prayer list and hope that it might be of help to you.”
As he tearfully read the letter and examined his journal, he found that the day that he had arisen from his bed healed was the same day the letter had been written, the very day his family began praying and exercising faith for their distant son.
How could that be across some eleven thousand kilometers? I suppose no one knows, but the reality of the power of faith cannot be denied. In the face of all opposition, trust in the Lord. Even if the opposition continues almost beyond endurance, continue to trust in the Lord.

Aric’s story, Toronto, Ontario
Aric (pictured top right) is a PhD student at the University of Toronto, working with heart tissue and regenerative medicine.
In describing his research, he explains, “Certain types of stem cells can turn into anything in your body. We can put stem cells in a petri dish and grow them into a heart cell. After two weeks, they’ll start beating themselves. We then use these to model different diseases and to test different drugs. My goal is to one day grow a heart in a laboratory setting like this.”
Aric had his own change of heart during his mission to Belo Horizonte, Brazil. “When I served a mission, I learned how to listen to and follow the Spirit. It helped me learn how to study, to learn how to apply myself.” He changed so much that he was concerned about coming home. “I didn’t really know how to act or what to do,” he admitted. “I had to relearn how to act in certain situations. Going to institute helped me.”
The social network at institute is important to Aric. “I’ve been able to befriend people who needed friends. I’ve been able to comfort people when they needed to be comforted. That’s important to me, to help other people, but then it’s also important for me to feel that from other people as well.”
He jokes about how long he has been going to institute, but he keeps going. “Every time that I go, I feel the Spirit that is present there. And it helps me be a better person, stay in good places, and do well in my work.”
Aric draws a comparison between his work and institute. “If we put a cell in a good environment, there are internal changes that happen in the cell that make it more receptive to those positive changes or those positive signals that we want to give it. Over time, the cell changes—it morphs into something better, something bigger than itself. For me, that’s something very, very special. If I put myself into the right environment, then I’m going to become more receptive to these spiritual aspects of life and less receptive to the negative influences that happen in the world.”
He concludes, “God is real. That’s something that I feel deep down inside myself. I haven’t always felt His love in my life. I’m starting to realize that that’s because of decisions that I’ve made. I realize that He’s there to help me, that He really wants me to be my best self.”

When my dad was in the military, we moved a lot. But one thing I know is that everywhere we go, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will be the same. This made moving so much easier for me.
Rylan W., age 9, New Mexico, USA