Gospel Story Finder

A faithful young woman decided not to compromise her standards when she was asked to dress immodestly to fit into the business division of the fashion company where she worked. Understanding that her body is a sacred gift from our Heavenly Father and a place where the Spirit can dwell, she was moved to live by a standard higher than the world’s. She not only gained the confidence of those who saw her living by the truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ but also preserved her job, which for a moment was in jeopardy. Her willingness to do what was pleasing in the sight of the Lord, rather than what worked for the world, gave her covenant confidence amidst difficult choices.

Imagine a young elder, whom we will call Bill. He learned this in Primary. He believed it then; he believes it now. For some time, however, Bill has been plagued with pornography. He has found its allurements powerful and addictive. After each encounter with this sleazy stuff, Bill has felt sickened, ashamed, and worthless inside.

Bill attended general conference a few weeks ago. In the priesthood session, he heard President Hinckley say:
There is not a man or boy in this vast congregation tonight who cannot improve his life. And that needs to happen. After all, we hold the priesthood of God. . . .
With this priesthood comes a great obligation to be worthy of it. We cannot indulge in unclean thoughts. We must not partake of pornography. We must never be guilty of abuse of any kind. We must rise up above such things. “Rise up, O men of God!” and put these things behind you, and the Lord will be your guide and stay.12
Bill decided, “It is time for me to stand up for my faith!”

He went to that secret place, retrieved the filthy pictures, the vulgar films and literature, and destroyed them. He purged his library of the hard, raucous music and sordid lyrics. He deleted from his computer all references to pornographic sites, installed a protective filter, and placed his computer in a more public place so as to fortify himself against repeating his sin.

Bill acknowledged his transgressions before God. He prayed fervently for the strength to repent, to expel this evil from his life. He sought help from his bishop and loved ones. In his extremity, Bill has felt the quiet assurance “My son, you are on the right path.” His faith, because of his works, is being affirmed and strengthened.

Much remains to be done. There will be fasting, prayer, scripture study, and many tears. A good bishop will provide indispensable help. The faithfulness and prayers of parents and loved ones will provide needed support. Nevertheless, the benchmark shows: Bill is beginning to exercise faith unto repentance—he has made the right choice!

When I was a young father, I remember rushing my five-year-old son to the emergency room, where a plastic surgeon was waiting to stitch a gash in my son’s scalp that had resulted from a biking accident. The doctor allowed me to observe the entire treatment. What caught my attention were the doctor’s hands as he cleaned the debris from under my son’s scalp. He would move his thumb over the top of the scalp, feel a protrusion, lift up the skin and remove the particle of dirt or small pebble. He would then wash the wound and again use his thumb to feel for any remaining debris. I later decided that we had paid the doctor not so much for his ability to stitch up cuts, but for the sense of touch he had developed in his thumb. We were grateful for the doctor’ssensibility (2 Nephi 2:11).

I remember when I was young, listening to my father’s conversion story. When the gospel of Jesus Christ was introduced to Samoa, it was not received well. Many felt threatened by this new religion and fought against it and persecuted those who chose to join. Many converts were expelled from their village homes and many fled to places of refuge. My father, being a young and curious man, sought to discover what this new religion taught. In time he was baptised into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As news spread through the village that my father had joined the Church, a worried friend from his village warned him that there was talk of cooking him alive in an umu (an above-ground oven of hot volcanic stones), so my father fled and found refuge with Malietoa Talavou Pe’a Fitisemanu and Alisa Fitisemanu. Even though his life was threatened, he was committed to his newfound faith. As the Saviour taught, “ye shall know them by their fruits.”6 The blessings of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ in my life with my wife and our children, and in the lives of our children’s families, are some of the fruits of my father’s faith.

Lydia watched Mommy get ready for work. Mommy put on pretty pink lipstick. She looked beautiful.
Lydia looked in the mirror. She felt sad. “I don’t have any lipstick,” Lydia said. “So I’m not beautiful.”
Mommy hugged her tight. “Wearing lipstick isn’t what makes people beautiful. Being strong and kind makes people beautiful.”
“Strong like having lots of muscles?” Lydia asked.
Mommy smiled. “No. This kind of strong means choosing the right.”
“How?” asked Lydia.
“Well, you are strong and kind when your hands help others,” Mommy said.
“You are strong and kind when your heart loves everyone.
“And you are strong and kind when you smile. That makes everyone happy too.
“Being strong and kind makes you beautiful inside, not just outside.”
Lydia wanted to be strong and kind!
She used her hands to carry the mail in for Grandpa. She gave her last cookie to her cousin.
She felt love in her heart when she played with a new neighbor. And she felt love when she gave coins to a girl collecting money for people who didn’t have homes.
She smiled at people she saw. They all smiled back.
That night Lydia told Mommy, “You are right! I feel strong and kind. I used my hands and my heart and my smile today.”
Mommy smiled. “You are strong and kind, just like Jesus wants you to be!”

—Caroline Olsen, a 22-year-old interior design student from Brampton, Ontario, Canada, enjoyed her studies, but wondered if they were superficial.
“I started to feel like what I was doing was unimportant. I mean, why be a designer? Who does it help? “Then one of the faculty members sat down with me and said, ‘Carrie, the things you develop will help others. Our environment is the most important thing that surrounds us each day. It creates an atmosphere for our workplace or our family. If it’s a good environment, it will influence us to be better people.’
“All of a sudden I understood that what I was doing was important. Thanks to that teacher, I found out I was doing something good.”

For the past three and a half years I have had the assignment to serve as executive administrator of the Australia/New Guinea Area. Although my assignment has recently been changed and the title of executive administrator is no longer used, I shall not forget the experience I had in New Guinea as the Church was first being established there.

Viba Rome and his wife, Mauveri, and their three children live in Papua, New Guinea. About three years ago a missionary couple taught the restored gospel of Jesus Christ to them in small Two-Mile Village, just outside Port Moresby. Two young boys led the missionary couple to the Wadega hut, where they found twelve people living in one small room. Viba and Mauveri were living there with Mauveri’s family, the Wadegas. The missionaries taught them the gospel. It was well received by the entire family except for Mr. Wadega, who was reluctant to join any church.

Viba and Mauveri desired to be baptized immediately. Baptism would require them, however, to forsake some long-established traditions of their culture. Fighting, gambling, and beating their wives were traditional and acceptable pastimes for the men of the village. Betel nuts not only colored their teeth and gums a bright scarlet hue but had a narcotic effect upon those who chewed them and made them lazy and lethargic. The women also had changes to make. Attending church meetings would require them to cover their nakedness, a practice contrary to the tradition of their society. The other women of the village ridiculed them and accused them of trying to act superior to them. The traditional role of the women was to be unseen and unheard in any public gathering except when participating in the dances and singing of their culture. Attending church meetings and participating with men in worship service required a very great change in their social relationships.

Viba and Mauveri were baptized in the Coral Sea several weeks after hearing the gospel taught to them. Three weeks following their baptism I had the privilege of conferring the Aaronic Priesthood on Viba and ordaining him to the office of priest. On that day he wore his first white shirt, given to him by the missionary couple, Elder and Sister Campbell. Viba bore his testimony to the congregation of about 200—most of whom were members of less than one year. These were his stirring words:

Before I accepted the message of Jesus Christ from the missionaries, my heart was as a boiling caldron and my life was filled with fighting and abuse to my family and others. Now my heart is filled with peace and I have only love for my family and I have no desire to injure anyone.

With their acceptance of the gospel of Jesus Christ, Viba and his wife and others have had the determination and courage to break away from the false traditions of their ancestors. The superstitions and voodoo like practices have been replaced with priesthood power and true gospel service. The relationship of husband and wife as a partnership, education, self-improvement, honesty, virtue, and monogomy were all new traditions to be established in the Rome’s lives. They have the desire and faith to live close to the Lord and they have the gospel of Jesus Christ and the programs of the Church as full resources to help them establish and maintain desired traditions of excellence.

Viba has a job at a cane furniture factory and is striving to establish an independent home and the traditions of an LDS family. This is not easy for him, because leaving his traditional home has meant taking from his family and the family of his wife their source of income. In New Guinea, when one has a job, all of that person’s resources are used to support all family members living in that single dwelling.

Though Viba believes the custom of paying for his bride is not a good one, he will honor the marriage contract he made with Mauveri’s father before he received the gospel. Because of the higher value placed on female offspring, Mauveri’s value increased as each of their three daughters was born. Viba has determined that he will not carry on this tradition with his own daughters, however, even though their value would make him a very prosperous man. I think it should be noted here that Mauveri’s father delayed setting her final price for five years until he found her true worth: how many daughters she could bear.

Viba now knows the true and eternal value of his family. A little over a year after their baptism I met Viba and Mauveri again, this time in the New Zealand Temple, and had the unforgettable opportunity of performing their sealing ordinance. Their trip to the temple for that special blessing was made possible for them by their gospel brothers and sisters in Brisbane, Australia. For the first time in their lives they rode in an airplane, wore shoes, slept in beds, and ate with forks and spoons from a table set with linen and fine chinaware. They experienced for the first time cold weather and the warmth of borrowed sweaters and the unfeigned love of their brothers and sisters in the temple surroundings.

Viba and Mauveri came forth from the temple endowed with the promise of celestial blessings through their faithfulness. They go forth as the first of their people to be sealed for time and eternity. They will set the eternal traditions before their people and establish among them the true traditions of excellence.

Viba has taught the gospel to his father’s family in the village of Garibu. Today, Viba’s father is the Garibu branch president. He has expressed his great love and appreciation for his son and the joy of receiving the gospel truths through him.

Then, months later, I began to feel guilty. I had made a promise to God, and I had not kept it. My brother was home, life had stabilized, and I had still not looked for a church to attend.
Then, I met a girl.
One night in April 2012, I met a girl who, from the moment I saw her, I felt I would marry. We met at a party, and after some effort on my part, she finally gave me her number. We went on our first date a few days later, and after that we were inseparable. We were together every day.
Eventually, I met her parents. They welcomed me into their home and treated me like family. I knew they were members of the Church, but at that point I did not know enough to have an opinion. What I did know was that they were kind, loving, genuine people. They taught me more by example than by formal lessons.
Later that summer, my future father-in-law asked me to help him build a shed in his yard. One day, while we were working, I saw two young men walk through the gate looking like they were ready to help. As you can probably guess, they were missionaries. Were they good construction workers? Not really. But they were the right missionaries for me. They were exactly who I needed to teach me. I remember one of them asking me as I drove nails, “What do you know about Jesus Christ?” We had my first lesson as we worked on that shed.
After months of missionary lessons, church attendance, home teaching visits, young single adult activities, and even watching general conference, I was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on December 22, 2012.
Looking back, I can clearly see the hand of God in my life. I can now clearly see that He heard desperate prayers. I can clearly see that He was guiding me long before I fully understood it. And I see that my baptism was not the end of my conversion story. It was just the beginning.

In 1969, while working in a bookstore in Bayonne, France, Evelyne Pérez noticed two young men, well-dressed and polite, who came into the store occasionally. “One day they asked if I would put up a notice about the English course they were teaching,” she remembers. “They said they were missionaries. When they later came to my house for a discussion, I learned that they represented The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“Most of what I had heard about Mormons wasn’t good. But a friend who had lived in South America told me, ‘The Mormons are the only church that respects Latin American culture. They don’t impose their own way of life.’ That impressed me.”
Evelyne began reading everything she could find about the Church. She learned of the plan of salvation and was much impressed with the Church’s welfare plan, which encourages a respect for personal dignity while helping recipients become independent.
But her first reading of the Book of Mormon was a disappointment. She had always been interested in pre-Columbian America, but what she read in the Book of Mormon “did not correspond with what I had previously learned. On the other hand, I found the teachings very worthwhile. Something led me to continue my research.”
The missionaries gave her some copies of L’Etoile (French). In its pages she met simple people leading clean lives. “Just to know that such people existed somewhere did me a lot of good. I was very much concerned about the world’s attacks on the family,” she remembers. Through general conference reports, she became acquainted with Church leaders and felt their teachings could have their source only in Jesus Christ. “That,” she says, “was a turning point in my conversion. I decided to follow the commandments, even though I was not ready to accept Joseph Smith or the Book of Mormon.”
Her concerns and remaining questions were resolved as she read Jesus the Christ, The Articles of Faith, and the Doctrine and Covenants. Reading the New Testament with a new perspective, she found a phrase that applied directly to the people and the teachings she was studying: “By their fruits ye shall know them” (see Matt. 7:15–20).
As she prayed, her testimony and her love of Heavenly Father grew. With budding faith, she decided to read the Book of Mormon again—this time not as a history book but as a means of finding Jesus Christ. Her reading led to a desire to take upon herself the name of Christ through baptism.
Because Evelyne’s husband distrusted all churches, he refused to grant permission for her to be baptized. Her reaction was consistent with the gospel she had accepted: “I decided I shouldn’t try to change him, but to change myself and become a better Christian.
“Unfortunately we moved to Antibes, 700 kilometers away, and I lost contact with the Church for a while. But I felt a need to associate with people with the same faith I had, and eventually I located the mission office. I was able to attend some meetings, where I learned more about God’s love for all his children and the need for us to be tolerant and to forgive.”
Evelyne was delighted to become part of the branch: “I was received with much warmth and was impressed that while attending Relief Society meetings I never heard anyone criticize another sister.”
The year 1991 finally brought to harvest Evelyne’s growth toward Church membership. Her 20-year-old granddaughter, Vanessa, was at her home when the missionaries called. The young woman was invited to a social and soon began attending church. When Vanessa decided to be baptized and married, Evelyne obtained clearance from the mission president to be baptized. She was baptized in June 1991. Vanessa followed in July.
A few years ago Sister Pérez’s husband passed away. Not long before his death, he had expressed an interest in joining the Church.
Sister Pérez’s patience has been rewarded following her 22-year wait, but, as she explains, her harvest of Church service is far from over: “A conversion is never completely finished. There is always something to improve. But now I am sure of being on the right path. I am ready to accept whatever the Lord asks of me.”
In the years following her baptism and then the death of her husband, Sister Pérez has lived up to her commitment to serve by sharing her harvest of joy with others. She recently returned from serving full time in the England Bristol Mission.

Elder Michael Cziesla remembers the struggles of 2017 very well. On a Tuesday in January, he lost his employment with an international law firm when the company declared insolvency. The next day his home was flooded when a water line broke. Burglars ransacked his house the third day trying to take the family’s valuables. In a few days, his life turned upside down.
“I smiled that Sunday as usual as I sat on the stand as stake president,” he said. “No one knew what was going on. But inside I was grieving terribly. I was in a very dark place.”
After the meeting, a quiet, gentle man in the ward asked him what was wrong. “He simply listened, and then he hugged me,” Elder Cziesla said. “I felt the Lord embracing me, that He knew my plight, that all would be right.”

When I was young my parents were faced with changing the long-standing religious traditions of their families. My parents moved from rural Ohio to the city of Flint, Michigan, a new place. My father found a mechanic in the dealership where he worked who wasn’t rude and didn’t smoke, drink, or swear. He found him to be friendly and helpful, and he wondered why. This man told my father it was because of his church.

My life was forever changed by the gospel of Jesus Christ when my parents invited two young men to our home. I remember the day they drove up in their American Motors Rambler and walked up to our house. They sat on the couch and pulled out a large flannel board and proceeded to teach us the gospel. My brother and I sat on the floor and watched as the missionaries placed cutouts of people and other figures on the flannel board. We would watch these flannel-board cutout characters slowly curl down, and we snickered and laughed as they fell to the floor. My father had to nudge us with his foot to keep us quiet. I had no idea that that moment was the beginning of a change that would forever affect our beliefs, our way of life, and our previously held notions and traditions. Life changed for us. We began attending church a couple of days a week. New terminology entered into our life.

I went to something called Primary and attended classes called CTR, Targeteers, and Blazers. There were things called sacrament gems and two-and-a-half-minute talks. We went to progressive dinners, bazaars, and ice cream socials. There were road shows and gold and green balls. Some of these traditions of the Church have changed over time, but the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ remains a constant. My family had to rethink our priorities, rethink who we were, and change the way we did things. We made covenants with the Lord as we realigned our lives with this newfound gospel. My life was forever changed and set on a different trajectory, one other than where it could have headed.

Third, live truth.
At times the most effective lesson in living truth is found close to the home and dear to the heart.
At the funeral service of a noble General Authority, H. Verlan Andersen (1914–92), a tribute was expressed by a son. It has application wherever we are and whatever we are doing. It is the example of personal experience.
The son of Elder Andersen related that years earlier he had a special school date on a Saturday night. He borrowed from his father the family car. As he obtained the car keys and headed for the door, his father said, “The car will need more gas before tomorrow. Be sure to fill the tank before coming home.”
Elder Andersen’s son then related that the evening activity was wonderful. Friends met, refreshments were served, and all had a good time. In his exuberance, however, he failed to follow his father’s instruction and add fuel to the car’s tank before returning home.
Sunday morning dawned. Elder Andersen discovered the gas gauge showed empty. In the Andersen family the Sabbath day was a day for worship and thanksgiving, not for purchases. Elder Andersen’s son declared, “I saw my father put on his coat, bid us good-bye, and walk the long distance to the chapel that he might attend an early meeting.” Duty called. Truth was not held slave to expedience.
In concluding his funeral message, Elder Andersen’s son said, “No son ever was taught more effectively by his father than I was on that occasion. My father not only knew the truth, but he also lived it.” Live truth.

Henry serves as a great ambassador of the Church. Wherever he competes, all around the world, he is known as a Latter-day Saint. “When I compete in Europe I always have missionaries come up to me at races. I represent the Church wherever I go as far as people identifying me as being Mormon. When I was on my way home from the Spartakiad in Russia I was talking to a Finnish man on the plane, and I gave him a Book of Mormon. A couple of years later I was at a BYU basketball game when a guy came up to me and said, ‘Are you Henry Marsh? I was a missionary in Finland and I taught a guy you gave a Book of Mormon to.’ It’s a small world.
“I also talked to Alberto Salazar, the great road and track racer, in Rome last year when we were on the bus together. We got into a long discussion on the Church, and I called up my friend Wade Bell in Oregon, who was on the 1968 Olympic team and was seventies quorum president in Oregon. He gave Alberto a copy of the Book of Mormon.”
Henry has been the subject of many many articles in important magazines and newspapers, and his Church membership is usually mentioned. One article in Sports Illustrated was titled “Go, You Stormin’ Mormon.”
Henry keeps running in perspective. “Running is a temporary thing. You reach your peak early in life, and then you’ve got the rest of your life to live.”
His own goals reflect that. “My number one goal is to go to the celestial kingdom and have my family with me. My other goals are all the things that will get us there. I have many goals in different areas of my life, and there are so many aspects of life. I have goals in the area of family, vocation, racing. I’d like a gold medal in the ’84 Olympics for example. We set family goals constantly. The overall goal is to raise a good family. Right now we have a delightful boy and a charming little girl. I try to spend as much time with my family as I can. Sometimes when I go to a track to train I take my boy with me, and he’ll stand on the track and make me hurdle him as I go past.
“My family is certainly a lot more important than the steeplechase.”
Also important in Henry’s scheme of things is his work as an attorney in a Salt Lake law firm. “I want to make a real contribution to each client I represent. I feel a strong obligation to do all I can to be an effective advocate for his needs.” He tears into each case with the same white-hot intensity he gives the last 20 yards of the steeplechase.
In addition to his work as an attorney, he also donates many hours of his time to community service through speaking to youth and school groups and serving on the U.S. Olympic Executive Board.
After this exhausting schedule of service to family, church, employers, and community, it’s a miracle he finds the energy to train for the steeplechase, but he must. Only world-class training can produce a world-class athlete. And training isn’t always fun. “Some days running is drudgery. It’s hard work. But unless you put in the work, you’re not going to get the reward.” In good weather Henry often runs near his home, high on the hillside above Bountiful, enjoying the panoramic view. But when the snows come, as they do four or five months each year, he must switch to endless circuits around an indoor track. There is no poetry to such work, only pain. If he wishes to train on a real steeplechase course, he must travel 30 miles.
Henry’s philosophy of training is perfect for the athlete who must also hold down a job. He does not emphasize running a staggering number of miles as some runners do. But he runs hard, intensely, up on his toes just as if he were really in a race, wringing two miles worth of good out of every mile he covers. “I have goals I try to accomplish each time I work out, and my goals are not geared toward the number of miles I cover. I really don’t keep track of miles. Somebody may say to me, ‘I ran 100 miles this week, and you only ran 50,’ but it’s the type of miles you’re running rather than how many miles you’ve run, because my miles are intense. I might only cover six miles this afternoon, but I guarantee you they’re tough miles and they’re run to accomplish a certain purpose rather than just to see if I can jog six miles.” Of course training is not just a matter of running. There are stretching and warm-up exercises and hurdling techniques to be practiced and honed. Most days at lunchtime, instead of relaxing over an executive lunch at some restaurant, Henry can be found bouncing around in an aerobic workout session at a nearby gymnasium.
The steeplechase is by no means the most important thing in Henry’s life, but it certainly ranks high right now. And why not? It has put him through college and law school, helped to spread the gospel around the world, and taught some great lessons about the importance of clearing life’s hurdles and having a strong finish. And it has made Henry such a winner that he can make news just by losing. But his opponents can tell you that he doesn’t make that kind of news very often.

In the spring of 1978 I opened my own typesetting business in Denmark. Suddenly my earnings doubled what they had been when I worked for someone else. I made a budget and kept careful books and tax records. Then I got the idea of opening a tithing bank account. It was actually a savings account, but I called it my tithing account and thought it to be a tremendously good idea. After just a few months, I was shocked to see how much money my tithing account contained.
“Someday I’ll make a check out for the whole amount and give it to my bishop,” I thought. But the more the account grew, the harder it became to make out the check. Besides, it became fun to add up the figures.
After six months with lots of work and lots of money, orders suddenly stopped coming in. As day after day passed with no new orders, I began to worry as my savings grew low. “Well,” I consoled myself, “you can always borrow from your tithing account should this continue much longer.”
When I told my mother my idea, she immediately said, “You don’t touch the money you owe to the Lord!” My mother was a strong-willed woman, and even as an adult I felt rebellious if I didn’t obey her. She continued, “The sooner you get your tithing money to the bishop, the better. Make out a check today for the full amount and take it to him.”
I explained that my rent, car payment, taxes, and utility payments were all due and the only money I had was in my tithing account. “Never mind,” my mother said, “You had better pay the bishop today.”
Even though I didn’t like it, I knew she was right. So I went straight to the bank. Never have I been so tempted in all my life than I was that day to make the check out for cash to myself, but I prayed to the Lord to make me strong.
Still, I felt so heavy when I handed the check to the bishop. How could I save my business and my home without money coming in? My mother said, “Your oldest daughter is old enough to fast with us. Let us pray and fast together for twenty-four hours.” And so we did. After the fast, three days passed and nothing happened. “Let’s repeat the fast,” my mother said. Again we fasted, and the very next day the mailman knocked at my door with an order from a brand-new customer—a big order that would keep me busy every day for the next month. Tears came to our eyes, and my mother, two daughters, and I bent our knees to thank the Lord for his mercy.

One day there was a conference in our city. My parents were excited and grateful when they learned we would have Elder Marvin J. Ashton (1915–94) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles among us.
On the day of the conference, the chapel was overflowing. My mother could not get close to Elder Ashton. When my six-year-old brother saw my mother’s despair, he managed to get through the human barrier and reach him. He asked Elder Ashton to bless his brother who was very sick and insisted that he come to where we were. But Elder Ashton couldn’t come at that moment. We prayed for an opportunity to meet him at the end of the conference.
To our surprise, at the beginning of his talk Elder Ashton said, “When I got here, a little boy asked me to bless his brother who is gravely ill, and I would like to say to all within the sound of my voice that your brother will get well and fulfill his mission here on earth.”
For my parents, this was the balm they had prayed for, a relief from their days of pain and sadness. We began a new treatment, and with confidence in the power of Elder Ashton’s promise, I found my life changed completely.

I remember one time when I was in the Marine Corps, stationed at Camp Pendleton in California. I left a decision to chance and almost found myself in a most unpleasant situation.
My buddies had been after me each weekend to go with them into the dance hall in Los Angeles to have a good time. Each weekend I was encouraged to go. After several weeks of turning them down, thinking that that was no place for me, I decided just once to leave it to chance and see how it would turn out.
I started with them towards this big dance hall in Los Angeles. We were riding the streetcar, and as it progressed from stop to stop, it was filling up with many young ladies. They were not the type I had ever been around before. They were extremely forward. I felt very uncomfortable around them. As they approached me, I adopted a tactic completely unknown to a marine. I retreated.
On the back row of the streetcar I found four young ladies whose appearance was entirely different. I asked them if they were going to the dance, and their reply was, “Yes, but not to the same one you are.” Then they said, “We are going to the Adams Ward to a Mormon dance. What do you know about the Mormon Church?” I was surprised, relieved, and willingly got off the streetcar with them, and had a most delightful evening at the Adams Ward. Have more confidence in yourself than allowing your decisions to happen just by chance.

For 35 years many people discussed the gospel with me. My wife never missed an opportunity to talk about it, and she would cleverly leave the Book of Mormon and Ensign magazine in plain sight. Of course, I never picked them up. She invited the missionaries over on many occasions; two or three sets of them even taught me the missionary lessons.
So what was keeping me from entering the waters of baptism?
I always had an excuse. I worked long hours. I didn’t see that I’d ever have time for the gospel. I was much too busy making money. So I told Eva, “Sometime when things slow down and I have more time, I’ll read the Book of Mormon.”
But I never did. Besides, I had never been much of a reader, and when I tried to read the Bible, it didn’t make any sense to me. So that was the end of that.
There was another thing that was keeping me from joining the Church, something more serious: the sinful life I was leading. King Benjamin teaches us that “the natural man is an enemy to God … unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit” (Mosiah 3:19). I did not yield—I was sitting on the fence. The Savior said, “He that is not with me is against me” (Matthew 12:30). I realize now that because of the way I was living my life, I was against Him. I needed to change.
I was living around the gospel but never actually living it, but as time went on, I started to feel the Spirit. I stopped partying and drinking. When I made that change, the Spirit started to manifest itself more frequently. I still wasn’t where I needed to be—my language wasn’t very good and I had some other bad habits to work on—but I was changing.
Then one day I received a package. It was from one of my daughters, Linda. It contained a Book of Mormon and a Bible with lots of marked scriptures. She also wrote me a letter in which she told me how much she loved me and wanted me to know what she knew.
She wrote, “The only way to know if the gospel of Jesus Christ is true is to ask with a sincere heart and with real intent.”
Linda then shared a series of scriptures that led me on a journey of prayer and scripture study.
“The only way I get to know my Savior and Heavenly Father,” she wrote, “is by praying and reading about Them in scriptures.”
She then described how important humility is and how, without God in her life, she couldn’t have peace. Finally, she wrote, “Don’t procrastinate anymore. You have been given so much. Now it’s time to give back to Heavenly Father. This is the only way to true happiness.”
I no longer had any excuses. Work slowed down, and I had some extra time. So I started reading and studying the scriptures she had outlined for me, which gave me the desire to read the entire Book of Mormon. But there were still so many things I did not understand.
By this time I was attending sacrament meeting because my wife said it would be nice if I came and sat beside her. She also suggested I read the Doctrine and Covenants. I did, and I understood it better. Then, with my wife’s help, I read the Book of Mormon and experienced the scriptures coming to life. Through lots of prayer, the Spirit was ignited in me.
What made the difference in me? The Holy Spirit and a knowledge of the scriptures. Both gave me the courage to change my life and to ask God for forgiveness of my sins, which were what had really kept me from joining the Church all those years.
Confessing my sins was very difficult. It brought me such pain that I lay in bed for three days in sorrow. But through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I was forgiven. Then Heavenly Father gave me the strength to get up and get on with my new life.
My son Kevin baptized me on July 9, 2005. One of the missionaries who had taught my wife decades earlier attended. Two years later I took my family to the San Diego California Temple to be sealed for time and eternity.
The last seven years have been the happiest years of my life. I can finally take my place as the patriarch and spiritual leader of our family and share in the gospel with my wife, our children, and our nine grandchildren. This family unity has spiritually strengthened everyone. A son-in-law has joined the Church, and four of our grandchildren have served or are serving missions. My new life in the Church is a miracle. I had no idea what great happiness and growth it would bring me.
I am so thankful for this second chance. I am grateful to be making up for those lost years by doing God’s work.

In the Owego New York Stake, members evacuated their homes, and some lived temporarily in a meetinghouse. One couple in Binghamton was rescued by a helicopter, and some in Owego were rescued by boat. Many stayed at shelters until the water receded.
Richard Miller, president of the Owego New York Stake, said that as the floods abated members were able to go in, clean up, and help the people affected.

Heather had been taking piano lessons for three years. She felt good about the progress she had made. She could even play a few hymns.
This year, Heather also started taking violin lessons. Her violin teacher announced that she would have a recital for her students. Heather and her teacher decided she would play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” for the recital. Heather was sad she couldn’t play a harder song.
At her piano lesson the next day, Heather invited her piano teacher, Sister Barton, to the violin recital.
“I’d love to come,” Sister Barton said.
“I’m not very good,” Heather said. “I still have a lot to learn.”
“We all have to keep learning. I practice every day,” Sister Barton said. She was the Primary pianist.
“You have to practice?” Heather asked.
“I sure do,” Sister Barton said. “And I still make mistakes.”
“I’ve never heard you make a mistake,” Heather said.
Sister Barton smiled. “I have a secret. I keep playing, and no one notices.”
“That’s a good secret,” Heather said.
“I have an even more important secret,” Sister Barton added. “I always say a prayer before I play.”
The night of the violin recital, Heather said a prayer. At the recital, her parents, older brother, and Sister Barton sat in the first row. When it was her turn, Heather played “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” Her fingers slipped at one spot, but she kept playing.
“You did a great job,” Sister Barton told Heather afterward.
Heather smiled. “I remembered the two secrets.”

“They expelled me from school because I’m a Mormon,” said seven-year-old Raúl Aquino Gonzales. That may seem like a big price for one so young to pay. But Raúl doesn’t think so—even though he was happy at the school, had lots of friends there, and loved his teacher.
Raúl was a first grader in a religious school in a small town in Paraguay—and was the only Latter-day Saint in the school. One day, he said, “People started criticizing the Church without knowing anything about it. They were saying things that aren’t so.” Raúl—a likable, outgoing boy—felt he couldn’t just sit there without saying anything. “I tried to defend the Church by telling them they were wrong,” he explained. “I was expelled because I wouldn’t conform.”
Now Raúl, still a first grader, is enrolled in a different school. “I’ve already told the people at the new school that I’m a Mormon,” he said. And with a grin, he added: “But they didn’t expel me!” His best friend in his new class is also a member of the Church.