Gospel Story Finder

In the Locality File, Rebecca found that Rebecca Burdick Winters had an article written about her in the July 19, 1958, Deseret News. It was on a microfilm and was titled Lonely Grave of a Pioneer Mother. Reading it, she learned that in August 1852, Rebecca Winters and her family were traveling by wagon train to Salt Lake City. When deadly cholera invaded the wagon train outside Scotts Bluff, Nebraska, Rebecca helped care for the sick, and she watched her friends die until she herself was stricken with it and died.
As the family prepared to bury Rebecca’s body, a band of starving Indians rode into the camp, demanding food. When told that there was no food to spare, they became desperate and threatened to kill the pioneers.
Hiram Winters explained to the Indians that there was a terrible sickness among the wagon train. When the Indians failed to believe him, he removed the blanket from Rebecca’s body. The Indians quickly fled, leaving the pioneers to bury their dead in peace.
Rebecca’s lonely grave was marked only by an old metal wagon tire inscribed Rebecca Burdick Winters, Age 50.
Years later a survey party for a railroad discovered the wagon tire that marked the grave. The railroad track was to have gone over it, but the officials decided to reroute it around the grave of the brave pioneer mother.
The article went on to tell about Gideon and his family. Then Rebecca found a paragraph about Rebecca Burdick Winters. It said that in 1902 her descendants, in loving memory, erected a monument made of Salt Lake granite beside Rebecca’s grave. In 1964 a national patriotic organization erected another monument by the grave, naming Rebecca Burdick Winters “The Pioneer Mother of America.”

I was really stressed about finals week at the end of the school year. I decided to fast and pray that I could prepare well and be successful in my finals. After the exams, I got my scores back and I had only missed one problem on each of my exams! I was super grateful for that.
This experience helped me feel like Jesus Christ cared about me and that He wanted me to do well in my life. He cares about what is important in my life, and it was important to me to do well in school. I felt like He was more connected to my life.
Fasting was hard for me when I first started, but it becomes increasingly easier the more I do it. I believe that if I fast, I will be able to receive the blessings that Heavenly Father has promised me for fasting.
Hannah J., 16, Minnesota, USA

It happened in September, the end of summer. Typhoon number 13 was coming toward the Japanese islands, and radio and television announcers were reporting that it would possibly land near where I lived. I remembered what happened two years earlier when another typhoon hit Japan. Trees outside were buffeted terribly, and the strong wind crashed against my windows. It was terrifying. Now here we were again. The radio warned that this typhoon was just as strong as that earlier one.
I held my young child in my arms, put a helmet on my head, and started collecting our emergency bags. We had prepared the bags a long time ago, but they had been stored in several different places. Expecting the typhoon to hit about 3:00 A.M., I spent the whole day locating, then rechecking, the contents of the bags.
I went to a department store to buy medicine that I did not have in my bag, and I also put our family history and other records in it. In case the running water stopped, I filled the bathtub with water. I prepared everything I could think of, then waited nervously for my husband to come home.
Sensing my fear, my three-year-old daughter said, “I will pray to Heavenly Father for you,” and she prayed. As I listened to her prayer, a peaceful feeling came over me, and I felt assured that the Lord would protect us. When my husband arrived, I finally felt prepared physically and emotionally.
Time passed, and midnight drew close. I put our helmets, shoes, and emergency bags where I could grab them quickly, and we went to bed.
Luckily, the typhoon passed by without causing much damage. When I awoke in the morning, I gave thanks to God. I had been completely prepared because I had heard on the radio and television that a strong typhoon was coming, and I took action.

Years ago I read of an African-American man who rose from humble circumstances to become the general counsel of General Motors, without question one of the most lucrative and prestigious positions for a lawyer in all the world. As a boy he was poor; he was required to obtain his education through efforts that were heroic and under circumstances that were difficult in the extreme. He was required to work one and even two menial, dirty jobs regularly and, if I am not mistaken, occasionally three. He was asked if he felt uncomfortable among the highest-paid executives in the world. His answer was no. He said that most of them had been poor boys, like him, who had worked their way up being tested, challenged, threatened, and discouraged. Adversity is the refiner’s fire that bends iron but tempers steel.

My wife and I, and two of my colleagues and their wives, recently participated in a Jewish Shabbat (Sabbath) at the invitation of a dear friend, Robert Abrams and his wife, Diane, in their New York home. It commenced at the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath on a Friday evening. The focus was honoring God as the Creator. It began by blessing the family and singing a Sabbath hymn. We joined in the ceremonial washing of hands, the blessing of the bread, the prayers, the kosher meal, the recitation of scripture, and singing Sabbath songs in a celebratory mood. We listened to the Hebrew words, following along with English translations. The most poignant scriptures read from the Old Testament, which are also dear to us, were from Isaiah, declaring the Sabbath a delight, and from Ezekiel, that the Sabbath “shall be a sign between me and you, that ye may know that I am the Lord your God.”

The overwhelming impression from this wonderful evening was of family love, devotion, and accountability to God. As I thought about this event, I reflected on the extreme persecution that the Jews have experienced over centuries. Clearly, honoring the Sabbath has been “a perpetual covenant,” preserving and blessing the Jewish people in fulfillment of scripture. It has also contributed to the extraordinary family life and happiness that are evident in the lives of many Jewish people.

“I wondered how this new program would bring sisters together if we met in smaller groups, but I was willing to try it,” writes Richelle Pearce of the Shadowbrook Ward, Kaysville Utah South Stake. “I make bread a couple of times a week, so after making the proper arrangements, the Relief Society leaders invited anyone who was interested to come to my home for an activity.
“The next Thursday five sisters showed up at my door. They were from all different stages of life: one new mother, one working mom, one senior sister, and two with large families like mine. What happened over the next two hours was a testimony to me of the inspiration of this program. The sisters not only learned how to grind wheat and make bread, but they also talked, laughed, shared ideas, and really connected. By the time they left with their bread and wheat flour, I knew this program could bring sisters together in a wonderful way.”

It was the evening of pay day at Eighth Army Headquarters in Seoul, Korea. I had been on the day shift in the adjutant general’s message center, so I had a free Friday evening to read, write letters, and enjoy some time to myself.
Pay day was great, except that the extra cash available to the soldiers was used unwisely by some of them at the club. About bedtime that particular evening, three G.I.’s were in the barracks in high spirits under the influence of too much liquid refreshment.
The tranquility of our bare army barracks built by the Japanese occupational army before World War II was shattered when these soldiers entered the room. I turned my head away from the noisy intruders on the otherwise peaceful scene and continued reading, determined to ignore the change in mood.
Despite these efforts to remain peacefully alone and anonymous, one tall, handsome young man seemed determined to bring me into the party. He staggered over to my bunk. “What are you reading?” he said. “The biography of John Stuart Mill,” I replied. Looking up, I instantly recognized Alma Anderson (fictitious name) of our small but close-knit Seoul Korea church group. I could tell that Alma also recognized me.
Alma, deeply embarrassed and distressed, wheeled about and started to leave, then fell to my bunk. “I recognize you from our group meeting a few months ago, Alma,” I said.
“Yes, I remember you,” he replied without pleasure. By now Alma was in deep anguish. “Do you know the Doctrine and Covenants? Would you read me the Word of Wisdom?”
I pulled out the Doctrine and Covenants, opened to section 89, and slowly read aloud every word of the revelation known as the Word of Wisdom, including the phrase “strong drinks are not for the belly” (D&C 89:7).
“This isn’t the worst thing I have done. You know, my mother thinks I am going on a mission. I can’t go now.”
At this point I interjected: “Alma, you can still go on a mission. Would you like to know how to do it?”
“Do you really think I could go in spite of what I’ve done? I have done just about everything. I think it’s too late for a mission.”
I knew what he meant when he said he had done everything. I watched as many of my army buddies failed to show up during the night. His pattern was all too typical, but our church group was exceptionally free from these nocturnal diversions.
Alma was going home next week. But, nevertheless, knowing of the probable sins he had committed and also knowing the gospel plan of salvation, without which we are all lost, I stated confidently, “Yes, you can go, but it isn’t going to be easy.”
We opened to Doctrine and Covenants 58:42–43 [D&C 58:42–43] and read about repentance. We talked of the need to confess these serious sins to his line priesthood leader. I suggested he go immediately to his bishop in California when he arrived home. There he could continue the repentance process we had started that evening. I also urged that he commit right then and there to forsake the grave sins of sexual transgression and never again repeat them. I urged that he be patient because time would be required. I suggested that he read Alma 39 to understand how serious his sins were in the eyes of the Lord. Finally, I explained that as a part of his repentance he must plan to serve his fellowmen the balance of his life. We talked of the Savior, his mercy, and his atonement. I helped Alma understand that, though his sins were serious, he was not lost. “We have all sinned and are lost without the great mission of the Savior,” were my words of comfort. “But we must repent of those sins to be cleansed by the blood of Christ.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday, Alma. Let’s spend the evening together. Then if you would like to go to church services with me, be here about 8 A.M. He promised he would be there both days and he was. On Sunday he did not open his mouth but followed me around all day. We enjoyed a spiritual feast, and Alma began to exhibit signs that hope was returning. As our beautiful day of respite from army life came to an end, he returned to his unit.
On Monday, he came to say good-bye. Then he proceeded to the Inchon Harbor and the waiting troop ship, which took him back across the Pacific Ocean to the United States and his proud family. I wondered many times about Alma. Then one day, this letter arrived:
“Dear John:
“Perhaps you will remember me. Although our associations were short, they will have and have had a lasting effect on my life. I have often wondered what impelled me to go over to your bed that night, but I was very grateful that I did. Our conversation that night was a turning point in my life. From then on I was a pretty good boy.
“I learned the hard way which was the best way to live and am at present very happy with the LDS life. Upon my return I had my talk with the bishop. Several months later I was interviewed for a mission. I was interviewed by Hugh B. Brown and he raked me over the coals quite thoroughly and I ended up with a positive decision. I received my call Saturday and enter the mission home the 19th of September. I’m not even going out of the state, but I am very pleased with it.
“I am very thankful to you for your encouragement and advice given that night. Although I was under the weather that night I remember your words very well. Perhaps the meeting was meant to be. I think so. At any rate I send you deepest appreciation for your help and wish you the best of luck throughout your life.
“Please write and tell me somewhat of yourself and surroundings. I will be very happy to hear from you.
“With love,“A brother in the gospel.”
As I read these words, I realized that I had been in precisely the right place at the right time to help Alma begin the process of repentance. The Lord’s work is always accomplished through men and women—his sons and daughters. A moment of pure joy was my reward.
The next (and last) time I saw Alma was on a day in the Los Angeles Temple when I was awaiting the start of an endowment session. Alma came into the waiting room, and we embraced as army buddies and, more importantly, as eternal friends. He reported his great mission ever so briefly. It hadn’t been easy, but he felt a sense of pride and joy in having completed his full-time missionary service. Indeed, although he had thought it was too late for a mission, it was not too late.

Another sister, after being home for many years, returned to work when her youngest son went on his mission. During the years that both she and her husband were working, they studied ways of managing their money more wisely, carefully saving what they could. They shopped sales to maintain their food storage and carefully budgeted their funds. After her husband died, this sister continued her excellent money management habits. She also taught her grandchildren principles of managing their savings and planning for retirement. Through her willingness to learn and her diligent application of the five principles of financial management, she has accumulated substantial savings and now uses her resources to enjoy life and bless her family.

Ann liked living next door to Bishop Woodland. She liked to sit in the corkscrew willow tree that grew between their driveways. He was always going and coming. Whenever he did, he’d look up and say with a grin, “Be careful, Ann—I don’t want you falling out of there and cracking my driveway.”

“Why does Bishop Woodland come and go so much?” Ann asked her mother one morning.

“He’s usually going to help someone.”

“Like who?”

“Oh, people who need food or who are unhappy, or older people who need help.”

“How does he help? He’s old himself.”

Ann’s mother laughed. “I guess he is. But he can still listen and help. Sometimes he asks other people to help, like the Relief Society or a priesthood quorum.”

“Would he help me if I had a problem?”

“Of course he would. You could talk to him anytime.”

Ann asked this because she did, in fact, have a problem. She was thinking about it the next day at recess, when Cindy, her life-long friend, said, “Let’s play at the park after school.”

Ann had already told Janie, a new friend who had just moved there that year, that she’d play soccer with her after school. “Can Janie come, too?” she whispered back to Cindy.

Cindy frowned and shrugged.

Ann felt bad. Why couldn’t her two friends like each other? She was sure they would if they just knew each other better.

As it turned out, Janie had to postpone their soccer playing and help out at home. But that didn’t solve the problem.

After dinner Ann sat in the tree and watched for the bishop’s car. When she saw it turn the corner, she scrambled down and waited for him in his driveway. He was slow getting out of the car. When he finally stood up, his eyes were pinched with pain.

“Are you OK?” Ann asked.

“It’s just my back hurting me a little,” he said. Then he smiled, and his eyes were merry again. “I see the bird has come down from the tree.”

“Bishop, I need to talk to you, please.”

“This sounds serious. Let’s sit here on the front steps for a minute.” He lowered himself carefully onto the step. “Look at all those leaves!” The front lawn was covered with red and brown maple leaves and a few yellow ones from the willow tree. “I don’t know how I’ll get them raked up with this back. Sister Woodland can’t do it any more, either.” He turned to Ann. “But we’re here to talk about your problem, not mine. Tell me about it.”

“My two best friends don’t like each other. They don’t really know each other, because Janie is new. But they don’t want to do things with all three of us together. If I go with one, the other is mad at me. Maybe they’ll both get so mad that I won’t have either of them as my friend.”

The bishop put his chin in his hand. He thought a minute. “Maybe you could do something fun together, something at which they’d have to get to know each other better.”

“Maybe a party?”

“Good idea, But don’t watch TV or videos. Play games or do something where you work together.”

“Like making cookies or something?”

“That might work, especially if you ask the Lord’s help. A good, earnest prayer might help your plans.”

“OK, I’ll try it!” Ann jumped up. “Thank you, Bishop. I hope your back feels better.”

The bishop smiled, shook her hand, then went into his house.

“Who helps Bishop Woodland when he has a problem?” Ann asked her mother the next day.

“That depends on his problem. Why?”

“His back hurts him.”

“I know. He had surgery on it a while back. I think it’s getting better, though. I guess anyone who loves him and sees a way to do it would be the one to help.”

Ann did a lot of planning before she said anything to Cindy or Janie about a party. When she learned that the Woodlands were going away for the day on Saturday, she knew that that afternoon would be perfect. She talked to her mother about her plans, and she talked to the Lord about softening her friends’ hearts and about helping her say the right things. Then she talked to Cindy and Janie separately and told them about raking the bishop’s leaves and then having pizza.

“Bishop Woodland helped my dad get a job when he was out of work,” Cindy said. “Sure, I’ll come.”

Janie didn’t know Bishop Woodland because she was in a different ward, but she said, “Why not? I love pizza, and it sounds like fun.”

On Saturday afternoon Cindy and Janie both arrived promptly at four o’clock. They glared at each other but said hi.

“Let’s get to work!” Ann suggested, trying to sound cheerful and assured. They picked up the rakes and leaf bags she had gotten out and went to the bishop’s yard.

Each girl started in a separate corner of the yard and worked silently. Soon they had a big pile of leaves in the middle of the lawn. Ann looked at the pile. “I can’t resist!” she said, jumping into the middle of it.

Cindy laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing.” She jumped in too.

“Well, why not?” Janie drawled, joining them. The three of them rolled around and threw leaves at each other and laughed.

“Janie has the longest hair,” Cindy said. “She can be the leaf queen.” She and Ann wove handfuls of leaves into Janie’s hair. Janie smiled regally. Then they all filled Cindy’s hair and Ann’s. “We’re leaf princesses,” Cindy said.

They lay back in the leaves. The sun was going down, and the sky glowed with pink and gold. “My grandpa calls it ‘the gloaming’ when the sky looks like this,” Janie remarked.

“My mother says that, too,” Cindy said.

The three girls lay in the leaves and talked about their mothers and other things for a while. Suddenly Ann jumped up. “We have to hurry—I’m starving! Besides, it will soon be dark.” They held the sacks open for each other and stuffed them full of leaves. Janie swept the walk while Cindy and Ann carried the bags around by the bishop’s garden. “Janie’s fun,” Cindy said as they walked into the backyard.

Ann smiled. “I know. And so are you.”

Back at Ann’s house, they hurried to wash up so they could eat. After everyone was full, they baked the cookies that Ann’s mother had mixed. Then they arranged a basket of apples and cookies for Ann to put on the bishop’s front porch just before the Woodlands came home. Cindy decorated the note that Janie wrote to put in the basket: “From some people who love you.”

That night, Ann thanked Heavenly Father for helping her friends become friends—and for being able to help yet another friend, the bishop.

Amy Adams of Washington, USA, was trying to decide which activities would be best for her three young children when a conversation with her mother changed her mind. “What if you gave your children something better than training in sports or dance?” Amy’s mother asked. “What if by staying home, they could learn to feel the Spirit more?” Then her mother reminded her of what President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, has taught about the power of focusing on life’s basic relationships (see, for example, “Of Things That Matter Most,” Liahona and Ensign, Nov. 2010, 19–22).
Amy and her husband, Brett, prayed about and pondered this counsel and felt it would be a good idea for their family to spend more time together at home. For one year, they chose to forgo dance and sports; instead they prepared meals, learned Primary songs, visited museums, and played outdoors. “Our children were able to feel the Spirit … because we took the time to stop and listen,” Amy says. Their children may not be the top sports and dance stars, she says, “but they have a testimony of the Savior.”
Amy and Brett prayed to know how they should personally follow the counsel of modern prophets, and doing so allowed them to receive inspiration for their family. Amy says this inspiration led to her “proudest moments as a mother.”

Another great quality Merlene has is her love for animals. More times than I can tell you we have had stray animals become permanent pets simply because after my wife has taken care of them for several days, they feel they have found a home. I remember one little furry dog who one morning began whimpering on our back steps. It was bitter cold, the temperature was around zero, and Merlene heard the whimpering. She got up and went to the door, and she saw this furry little dog who had been caught in a trap that had been set by someone in the neighborhood. The dog had somehow pulled the stake attached to the trap loose and had dragged the trap to our nearby house. Merlene cried as she saw the pitiful plight of this little dog. I remember going out; the foot was frozen because the big, heavy trap had conducted the coldness into the foot and leg. I remember taking the trap gently off the leg and taking the dog to the veterinarian for appropriate care. Because of her great love for animals, each of our children loves animals.

Elder Thomas Matthew Marinho is making an impact as the first service missionary in my community of Portugal. It was a time when young service missionaries were not widely recognized, so this event remains etched in my memory. One of his assignments was specific yet profound — to greet everyone at Institute and Seminary activities with genuine warmth, expressed through heartfelt hugs.
The sight of eager youth patiently awaiting Elder Marinho‘s embrace before the day‘s activities was both moving and heartwarming. However, the true depth of Elder Marinho‘s service revealed itself in a poignant moment during one of these gatherings. A young man, a friend of someone attending, was invited to the Multi-Stake Activity day to learn about the Church. As with the others, Elder Marinho met him as he entered and gave him one of his big hugs. As he was taken aback, the others explained that Eder Marinho was a Service Missionary and one of his assignments is to greet those attending lessons and activities.
I attended a subsequent testimony meeting several weeks later where this visiting young man shared an unexpected revelation: he had just been baptised a member of the Church. He said he felt compelled to join the Church after attending this Multi-Stake Activity. What had made the difference for him? Elder Marinho‘s hugs. He emphasized that a church recognizing and valuing individuals for their capabilities, rather than dwelling on limitations, was undoubtedly the true Church of Jesus Christ. The power of that moment, where everyone felt the Spirit so strongly, affirmed not only the truthfulness of the Church but also the divine calling of Elder Marinho to touch hearts that seemed untouchable by others.
This experience illuminated the profound impact service missionaries can have, transcending their limitations. Their unique abilities possess a strength that resonates in the moment and echoes for years, moving hearts and uplifting spirits. My gratitude extends to Elder Marinho for his kind and loving service, to his parents for instilling such love and vision in him, and to the leaders who, in true Saviour-like fashion, collaborated to enable him to serve and touch the hearts of everyone around him.

Twelve-year-old David gripped his video game controller. He was going to do it! He was finally going to beat this level!
And then it all came crashing down. He missed the last tricky turn on the racetrack. His car fell behind. He lost. Again.
"Nooo!" he said. The opening screen of the video game flashed in front of him. He’d been so close! And all his friends said the next level was the coolest in the whole game too.
I bet I could do it. Just a few more tries. He reached for the start button on his controller.
Then he glanced out the window. Did he really want to spend his whole Saturday morning playing video games?
Not really. But he just knew he could beat the level.
He reached again for the controller. And then David remembered the pile of boards waiting in the backyard. He glanced back at the sun shining through the window. Today would be the perfect day to start on the tree fort he and his friends had planned.
He turned off the game and walked outside. A soft breeze blew through his hair. Sunlight warmed his face.
He filled the red wagon with spare boards Dad had given him. He told Mom where he was going and then tossed a hammer and nails into the wagon before heading to Sam’s house.
"What’s up?" Sam said, opening the door. He noticed the wagon and tools. "Great idea!"
Sam and David stopped by Ty’s house. Soon the three of them were taking turns hauling the wagon up the steep hill in the woods behind their neighborhood.
"This is heavy!" Sam said.
"And it’s hot today," Ty said.
David nodded. Pulling those boards up the dirt trail wasn’t easy. Every so often the wagon wheels caught on a big rock or fell into a crack.
"But it’s gonna be awesome," Sam said as he yanked the wagon out of a deep crack.
David pushed from behind. "Yup. Our very own tree fort."
"With a rope swing," Ty added. "And a lookout tower!"
Talking about their plans got them excited again. Before long they finished the steep climb to the tree they’d already chosen. It had the perfect tangle of big limbs and smaller branches.
"First we need to build the ladder," Ty said. David and Sam nodded. They had already drawn plans. They would nail some short two-by-four pieces of wood sideways onto the tree for the ladder.
The only problem was, building a ladder was harder than they’d thought. The nails kept bending. One board split in half. Their arms got tired.
After they had nailed only three steps in place, David checked his watch. They’d been there over two hours! It was already time to go home and help pull weeds in the garden.
They looked at the big pile of boards remaining.
"This is going to take a long time," Ty said.
David thought about how long it might take. But he wasn’t worried. And then he realized he hadn’t thought about his video game at all while they’d worked. He hadn’t even missed it! This fort might be a lot of work, but those ladder steps were going to last forever.
"Yeah," David agreed. "But I’ll bet we’ll be able to see all the way to the river once we finish the lookout tower."
The three friends headed home. They talked about how great their fort would be and decided to get an earlier start next Saturday.
The video games could wait.

After Peter was released from the hospital, he arranged to go to Salt Lake City to undergo plastic surgery. He would live with his brother and sister-in-law and begin to work on his one great desire—to be as normal as possible.
But Peter had been living in a safe haven in the hospital. There people understood what had happened to him and accepted him for the person he was inside. But when he got out of the hospital he entered a world where people placed emphasis on appearances. An introduction to the outside world occurred when he went to the grocery store for the first time since his accident. He was feeling good about being out of the hospital, and his strength was returning. He walked to the store to pick up a few things. It was 5:00, and all the checkout counters were busy.
I was standing behind this lady. She had two young boys with her, but they were running around. Finally it was nearly her turn to be checked out, and her two boys came running over. As soon as they came up to their mom, one of the boys, about four years old, looked up and saw me. I scared him so badly, he started yelling, “Monster, monster.” He pulled away from his mother and started running down the aisle. She looked up to see what he was screaming about, and there I stood. She, too, dropped her groceries and took off down the aisle after the little boy. With this screaming, all the people at the other check stands were curious about what was going on. Everything stopped. Everyone turned and looked, and there I was in the middle of the store holding my loaf of bread. Then came all the ohs and ahs and people making comments that I could hear. It felt like a knife turning in my stomach.

For a parent-child service project (see guidebook, p. 9), Michael’s family decided to make apple pies that each family member could take to someone. Michael asked if he could take his pie to a family who had been unfriendly. Although his mother was concerned, Michael persisted. Michael’s family delivered the pie. They discovered that the family was having hard times and that the unfriendliness was not directed at them. The two families became great friends because Michael wanted to live the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Before I came on my mission, I didn’t ever read the Church magazines much. As a matter of fact, I didn’t read anything much. Since I’ve become a missionary, I’ve really learned to appreciate reading the New Era. It really helps to make my preparation days super-good days. I realized it was having a positive effect on me one preparation day when we were riding on a crowded bus in the Bangkok traffic. I was enjoying one of the stories when it came time to get off, and with a big smile on my face, I clutched the New Era and stepped down from the bus. The sidewalk was as crowded as the bus, and the people all smiled as I walked by. I realized that it was because the New Era had put a smile on my face.
Elder Thomas BellThailand Bangkok Mission

Her question knocked on the door of my past—a door that I had carefully hidden away deep in a crevice of my mind. Memory and a deep feeling I hadn’t realized was there answered …
The day was scorching; my sister, Susie, and I waited impatiently outside the church for Dad to pick us up following his weekly golf game. The sweat trickled down my back; Susie’s golden curls were wet and drooping. I remember watching with envy as my friends left the church with their parents. I wished with all my heart that Mom and Dad would come with us to church. I had even prayed about it. But they always thought they were too busy or too tired. By the time Dad picked us up, we were half baked. I was angry at both him and Mom.
Mom had stayed home, as usual, fixing dinner. We sat around the table now, but I was still very angry inside. I detest spinach, so rather than taking any, I passed the bowl to Susie. Instantly, both Dad and Mom were nagging at me, saying, “Take some spinach, Dan! It’s good for you!”
I had reached my limit. I retorted, “Why don’t you come to Church? It’s good for you, just like spinach is for me!” Dad struck me, and Mom left the table crying. I ran from the house angry and hurt.
“Am I a Christian, Rebecca?” I asked, as I came back to the present. “Let’s say I used to be.” She sensed my need for silence.
We walked along the dark, tree-lined street; only the crunching sound of autumn leaves under our feet interrupted the silence. I felt so alone in the cold, dark world. More than anything else, I wanted Rebecca’s friendship. She seemed so sure of herself, so at peace with herself. I wanted to draw from her strength, to learn from her wisdom. I looked down at my feet, afraid of her warm eyes.
“Rebecca,” I whispered softly. “What is it that makes you so special?”
I could have guessed that she would say it was her belief in Diety; she impressed me as a deeply religious girl. I wondered, though, which religion was to receive the credit for making her so sensitive, tender, and caring.
I pressed further, “What is your religion, Rebecca? Are you Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”
Her lips held just a hint of a smile. “I guess I fall into the ‘something else’ category, Dan. I’m searching for truth wherever I can find it. I discover it in some unusual places. But I can’t help but wonder one thing. Is there one religion that contains all of the truth?”
Her question pricked me deeply. Her eyes were searching mine, imploring. I looked away—my past blazed before me. Silently, I bowed my head and prayed. I hadn’t done that in years! After a long moment, I returned her gaze.
“Rebecca,” I slowly began, “what do you know about the Mormon church?”

I have seen that promise fulfilled in my own life and in the lives of others. A friend of mine served as a mission president. He told me that at the end of every day while he was serving, he could barely make it upstairs to bed at night wondering if he would have the strength to face another day. Then in the morning, he would find his strength and his courage restored. You have seen it in the lives of aged prophets who seemed to be renewed each time they stood to testify of the Lord Jesus Christ and the restored gospel. That is a promise for those who go forward in faith in their priesthood service.

This past January our family suffered the tragic loss of our grandson Nathan in an airplane crash. Nathan had served in the Russian-speaking Baltic Mission. He loved the people and knew it was a privilege to serve the Lord. Three months after I officiated at his eternal marriage to his sweetheart, Jennifer, this accident took his life. Nathan’s being taken so suddenly from our mortal presence has turned each of our hearts and minds to the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. While it is impossible for me to put into words the full meaning of the Atonement of Christ, I pray that I can explain what His Atonement means to me and our family and what it might also mean to you and yours.
The Savior’s precious birth, life, Atonement in the Garden of Gethsemane, suffering on the cross, burial in Joseph’s tomb, and glorious Resurrection all became a renewed reality for us. The Savior’s Resurrection assures all of us that someday we, too, will follow Him and experience our own resurrection. What peace, what comfort this great gift is which comes through the loving grace of Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of all mankind. Because of Him we know we can be with Nathan again.
When I think of Nathan and how precious he is to us, I can see and feel more clearly how our Heavenly Father must feel about all of His children. We do not want God to weep because we did not do all we could to share with His children the revealed truths of the gospel. I pray that every one of our youth will seek to know the blessings of the Atonement and that they will strive to be worthy to serve the Lord in the mission field. Surely many more senior couples and others whose health will permit would eagerly desire to serve the Lord as missionaries if they would ponder over the meaning of the atoning sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. It was Jesus who said, “If … you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!” (D&C 18:15; emphasis added). Not only that, but great shall be the Lord’s joy in the soul that repenteth! For precious unto Him is the one.
In our sorrow over the separation from our dear Nathan has come the peace that only the Savior and Redeemer can give. Our family has turned to Him, one by one; and we now sing with greater appreciation and understanding:
Oh, it is wonderful that he should care for me
Enough to die for me!
Oh, it is wonderful, wonderful to me!
(“I Stand All Amazed,” Hymns, no. 193)

For years William R. Wagstaff, who served in the North Central States Mission from 1928 to 1930, felt disappointed he had not baptized more people. In the summer of 1929 he and his companion visited a farm family about 180 miles west of Winnipeg.
“Brother Wagstaff remembered giving a copy of the Book of Mormon to the mother and discussing the gospel with her during numerous visits through that and the following summer.
“He recalled that during each visit ‘she’d take off her apron and we’d sit down and discuss the gospel. She’d read and have lots of questions.’
“But at the close of his mission, she still had not been baptized, and he lost touch with her.”
Brother Wagstaff went home, married, and raised a family. Then in October 1969 he and his wife attended his missionary reunion. “A lady approached him and asked, ‘Aren’t you Elder Wagstaff?’
“… She introduced herself as the woman he had taught on the farm outside Winnipeg. In her hand was a worn copy of the Book of Mormon—the one he had given her 40 years earlier.
“‘She showed me the book,’ he related. ‘I turned over the front and there was my name and address.’
“She then told Brother Wagstaff about 60 members of her family were members of the Church, including a branch president.”