Gospel Story Finder

In the hallways at the Finnish high school, students rushed from one class to another, their chatter and laughter filling the air.
But here in the recital room, with its gilded trim and arching windows, the noise was distant and muffled. Here, where fifteen-year-old Säde (pronounced saw-day) Metsätähti was about to play the piano, there was peace.
Säde could have played many things—classical or popular. But right now, she had time to play and sing only one song. And so she played her favorite. The tune was simple, but memorable. Saria Karhunen, sixteen, joined Säde on the chorus. They’ve been friends since they were children, and somehow that friendship showed as the harmony of their voices built power in the song.
The girls finished. “Singing that,” Saria said, “is like singing a prayer.” Säde nodded her agreement.
In English the song, written by Latter-day Saints, is titled “Look Inside.” But the Finnish version, translated by Säde’s mother, Virpi, expresses the idea even more strongly. “Sydämees kun katsot, ”it says, “When You Look to Your Heart.”
“I know other people wrote the words and music,” said Säde. “But every time I play it, I feel like it’s my song. I think everybody—everything—has a song of its own, if you just listen close enough to hear it.”
The second bell rang, and that meant the brief performance was over. Säde and Saria are on a strict schedule at the Puolalanmaen Koulu, a school for students with musical aptitude. In addition to music, Säde has classes in Swedish, math, Finnish, gymnastics, English, biology, geography, and French.
She and Saria also study seminary every day and meet once a week with the other seminary students in their ward.
That evening was activity night at the chapel, and seminary students, institute students, Scouts, family history workers, and other ward members had gathered for various purposes—but all as brothers and sisters.
“How can you get closer to Jesus Christ?” asked Auli Haikkola, the seminary teacher.
“Study the scriptures,” said Aki Keskinen.
“Pray,” said Todd Katschke. “Go to church.”
“Talk about the Savior with your family,” said Jukka Merenluoto.
“Do good for someone else,” said Joni Mikkonen.
After class, several of the seminary students lingered to visit. They talked about how seminary helps prepare young people for missions, about getting up early to study the scriptures, about prayer and families and priesthood and the Spirit and a dozen other things youth all over the Church have in common.
“Most people in Finland don’t talk about religion,” Maria Sokoli said. “They go to church once or twice a year. They don’t understand how it can be such a big part of my life.”
“My nonmember friends respect me,” said Heidi Hankiala. “But it still gets tough when they all drink and do other things I won’t do.”
“Maria, Heidi, Saria, and I all grew up in the Church,” Säde explained. “Most of the people in this ward have grown up with the gospel. But now the Church is growing fast, and I see the day when it will grow faster and faster, when there will be lots of young people joining, not only in Finland, but in Russia, in Eastern Europe—all over the world. The Church is the hope of the future, and the youth are the hope of the Church.”
Too soon, the conversations were over. The youth said good-bye and departed. The seminary room was deserted, and the building was almost empty.
That was when the song began again.
Waiting for her mother, Säde had found a piano. Not an elegant one like the black enamel grand piano in the recital room at school. This was a brown upright, with a key or two chipped and a scratch in the finish. But the melody she played was the same: “When You Look to Your Heart.”
The song of faith continued.

On a quiet morning last week I left my office in Sao Paulo, Brazil, and walked over to the Sao Paulo Temple site. There was a soft morning mist beginning to clear away. As I walked up the gentle rise in the street onto the site, I noted with great interest and pleasure brush being cleared away and the new pegs recently driven into the ground. These pegs in the ground mark the dimensions of a new temple soon to be erected for the glory of God and the endless blessing of his children in South America. This temple will be different from any other building now standing in South America.
As I stood where the entrance of the temple will be, I recalled how thirty-six years ago my companions and I landed by ship in Santos after twenty-one days at sea and went by train to Sao Paulo. There were other missionaries on the same vessel going to Argentina and Uruguay, which were the two other relatively new missions on the continent.
In all of South America there was but a mere handful of members of the Church, mostly emigrants from Europe, many of whom were converted in Europe. As I stood last week on this site where this new, special, multimillion-dollar building will stand, I recalled how difficult and unpromising the future of the Church appeared in South America thirty-six years ago. In all of our mission we had only three baptisms in one year, despite the conscientious labors of over seventy missionaries. We did not have the Doctrine and Covenants, the Pearl of Great Price, or the Book of Mormon translated into Portuguese. We held our meetings in rooms that were small and unfit for the lofty message we were trying to teach. We often had to sweep out these rooms before meeting to remove the empty bottles and trash from the revelry of the night before. It was always difficult and often discouraging.
In comparison, last year in South America there were over 8,000 convert baptisms. There are now twenty-two stakes and seventeen missions of the Church with over 152,000 members on that vast continent; and the work has only begun. Our great first generation of South American Regional Representatives and stake and mission presidents are men of affairs, including bankers, businessmen, factory owners, and professional men. They are men of great ability and faith.
I marveled at how through the Spirit of God this has all come about. Surely it is a fulfillment of what Jesus said to his early apostles: “And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 16:19.) Having seen it all from close range, I cannot doubt that this is the work of God.
What has happened in Brazil has also happened in the other countries as well. The day I was at the temple site, President McAllister of the Bolivia La Paz Mission wrote, “We are still amazed at the growth of the Church since we were here before. When we left in 1967 there were fewer than 300 members compared to our current 8,500.” President Bradford, sustained yesterday as a General Authority, writes from Chile, “For as young as the Church is in Chile, I marvel at the strength and ability of many local leaders.” Surely the keys of the kingdom have been given to our present prophet and to the modern apostles, even as these were given by the Savior anciently.
Last week at the temple site, after much brooding and pondering, I stepped farther back to where the inner rooms of the temple will be. The morning mist had now cleared so that in the distance I could see part of the great city of Sao Paulo. I recalled how as a young missionary I presided over the work in that city, with thirteen missionaries and about 300 members. There are now four stakes of the Church and about 100 missionaries laboring in that city. There are also neighboring stakes in Campinas and Santos.
This great progress in South America has come about largely through the sacrifice and dedication of hundreds of missionaries and their families, as well as dedicated mission presidents from the United States and Canada. This is changing. In the Brazil Porto Alegre Mission there are now 136 missionaries of which fifty-eight, or 43 percent, are native-born Brazilians. All of the four mission presidents in Argentina are native South Americans. How can anyone who has seen what I have deny that this is the work of God.
That morning last week I walked farther on the holy templegrounds. I tried to establish from the ground pegs where the sealings will be. Already it seems to be hallowed ground. In my mind’s eye I could see young couples clean and pure, hand in hand, and with smiles on their faces, many with brown skins handsomely contrasting their white clothing, who will come to this sacred spot to be married under the power of the holy priesthood of God for time and for all eternity. It was easy to imagine the great joy of whole families who will come to that spot to be sealed and bound together under the same authority into an eternal family association through their worthiness. They will come from elevated passes and high plains of the Andes; they will come from the sea coast; they will come from the great cities. On that spot the doors will also be opened to the kingdom for those who died without an opportunity to accept the blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ on this earth. In addition, worthy members will receive the ordinances relating to mankind’s eternal journey and to the endless potential and development of each human soul. This has been provided by a gracious, just, and loving Father for all of mankind, and permits those who have participated in these enlightening ordinances to raise themselves to their highest potential in this life and for all eternity, with an endless association with their families in the presence of their Creator.
With this in mind and with eyes wet with tears, I remembered being told by one of our great South American stake presidents that when he comes to general conference in Salt Lake, he and his wife will have to decide which two of their five children they will bring to be sealed to them in the Salt Lake Temple. It takes forty-three soles to make one dollar. Now their plans have changed. They are planning to take all five children to the first temple in South America. His brother stake president in the same city has never had the privilege of being endowed and of being sealed to his wife and family in a temple.
That morning a week ago on the Sao Paulo Temple site, I walked farther back, still inside of where the temple will be. Having looked at these plans many times, I knew where I was. I have had goose pimples and felt tears almost every time I have looked at those plans. I was now standing where the baptistry will be. Thanks to President Kimball, as in all other temples since Nauvoo it will be a font borne on the back of twelve lifelike oxen representing the twelve tribes of Israel. Here will come the children, full of the mirth and excitement of youth, to perform the sacred ordinances of vicarious baptism for those who have not had that opportunity in their lifetime. It was easy to imagine the pleasure of those coming to be baptized and the great joy of those who have waited so long for this saving ordinance in their eternal journey. I was grateful that Jesus had said to his apostles: “And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” Contemplating all of this I could not doubt that this is the work of God upon the earth.
It was now time to walk on the outside of the pegs in the ground marking the dimensions of that long-awaited temple. I tried to imagine how high the front spire will be. At the same time I tried to contemplate the time when the short, stoic Indians from Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and Paraguay will also come to that spot and gaze up at the same spire. I wondered if some of the men might not admire the fine craftsmanship in the building and compare it with the quality of the workmanship in the walls of the sacred buildings of their forbears, still standing in Cuzco, and Machu Picchu, and many other places in South America. They had their temples also.
These descendants of the Lamanites and others are people with a great past, and with the enlightening power of the gospel of Jesus Christ, they are people with a great future. One of them was sustained yesterday as a General Authority of this church. Recently there were over 8,000 of them assembled in the Plaza de Armas in Cuzco, Peru, to hear the Lamanite Generation from Brigham Young University. Their day is coming soon.
What does this new temple soon to be built in South America mean to the people there? It means great and endless blessings. It also means great sacrifice. President Kimball said recently in Tokyo as he announced the building of the first temple in the Far East, “No temple has ever yet been built that did not require sacrifice and hard work.” (Unpublished, untitled talk delivered by President Kimball, Aug. 9, 1975, p. 12) It takes many pesos, escudos, soles, and cruzeiros, to make one dollar. For instance, last month the faithful members in Chile raised 1,902,178 escudos toward the construction of the Sao Paulo Temple, which is $387.90.
The Spirit of God has been distilled and has rested mightily upon the countries in South America since the time of my youth when missionary work there was so difficult. How does the work of God go there now? Problems—there are many; challenges—they are great, but the progress is almost unbelievable. What I have said about South America can be said of many other parts of the whole world. This is a great worldwide Church, and so far we have only seen the beginning. Having seen what I have seen in South America, I cannot deny that this is the work of God. I invite any who may have doubts, but who are sincere and honest in heart, to inquire further as to what is the generating force behind this great movement. It is the power of love—the love of God, the love of family, and the love of our fellowmen. And because Jesus has again given the keys of the kingdom to a living prophet and modern apostles, this love of family and others can be as eternal as the human soul. Said Jesus to his apostles of old: “And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” (Matt. 16:19.)
I testify that it is by these same keys and these same powers that this marvelous work goes forward throughout all of the earth, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

I was having a difficult time in school one year. I was shy and didn’t make friends easily. One evening, I decided to go for a walk to find some relief.
I found a secluded corner and spent some time pondering and praying about what I wanted. Feeling as if no one understood me, I desperately longed to have someone in my life who could see me for what I was inside, for what I could be. I wanted someone who knew all my faults yet still loved me. I wanted someone who realized that I was (and still am) trying so hard to be better. I didn’t want to feel so alone all the time.
I don’t know how long I was there, but I poured my heart and soul out to Heavenly Father. I cried until I didn’t think I could cry anymore. Then I stood up and started walking back home. As I was walking, I looked down at my shadow. Instead of the usual one shadow, I had two. It wasn’t a miracle or anything; it was just the effect of multiple streetlamps. But when I saw those two shadows, the thought came into my head: “You are never alone. You’ll never walk alone.” I know now that this thought came from the Holy Ghost and that this experience was a blessing to comfort me. That one simple thought reminded me that things would work out and that Heavenly Father knows me perfectly.
Since that day, there have been many more instances where those exact words have reminded me of what God has already told me. For example, once when I asked a priesthood holder to give me a blessing of comfort after the death of a friend, without knowing about my previous experience, he told me in the blessing, “You are never alone.” The exact same words! It was such a sweet and gentle reminder to trust Him and remember that everything will be all right.
Through prayer and the Holy Ghost, Heavenly Father can always be with me, so I always have someone I can rely on. Because of these wonderful experiences, I know of God’s great love for me.

Ruth’s baptism in December 2001 marked a shift in their family focus. With that shift came spiritual strength and blessings that have guided them to this day.
“We were sealed in the temple on June 28, 2003,” Richard says. “Because of that, many blessings have come into our lives. Our first two children were sealed to us, and our next two children were born in the covenant. Our children are a blessing.”
Richard explains that serving faithfully in the Church has brought harmony into their home: “My wife and I are yoked together equally. We have faced challenges and trials, but we have been able to get through them united. We believe in the same things. Being sealed in the temple, we know that if we endure faithfully, the Lord will help us.”
Attending the temple has changed their family. “When we were sealed in the temple, things changed radically,” Ruth says. “Our spiritual strength has grown.”
Richard agrees: “For our family, it has meant greater family unity, knowing that the family bond, which ultimately is the beginning and end of everything, gives us the strength to move forward. In life there are always challenges. But with the focus that the temple gives us, we can face the future in a different way. Being able to share these blessings—and especially to help other families do the same—brings great joy to our lives. I feel greater commitment in our home.”

Some years ago I coached a high school basketball team through a rather unusual season. The season began with a number of disappointing losses. Some of the fans and townspeople didn’t make a secret of their unhappiness over the team’s failures. There was considerable public comment, and it was a challenging time for the players. Several of them finally became discouraged and withdrew from the team. Those who remained didn’t lose faith in themselves or in their coach. The rough going seemed to be an incentive for them to try even harder.
At midseason the team began to win their games. They qualified for the district tournament and surprised everyone there by winning a place in the state play-offs. To the amazement of everyone, they went on to win the state championship—the first ever to be won by their school!
Following the celebration and the awarding of trophies after the championship game, I drove several of the team members back to our city. There was silence during much of the ride as we each reflected on the incredible outcome of our season’s efforts. Finally one of the young men spoke. “Coach,” he said, “I think we were supposed to win tonight.”
I was curious to know what had prompted this conclusion. “Why do you think we were supposed to win?” I asked.
His response was simple and direct—and I will never forget its impact: “Because we paid the price.”

As I looked back on my earliest experiences growing up in Cuba, one memory always stood out. I could vividly picture my beloved little brother Raúl being sick. I could see my mother caring for him, periodically crying desperately, and my grandmother frantically seeking help. I could see the whole family bending over his bed, weeping. I always seemed to witness my brother’s pain and my family’s tears from some high perch. For some reason, that scene remained in my memory, but I never talked about it.
When I was 10 years old, my mother died, leaving five children. I grieved over her death, but it was even more painful to watch as my brothers and sisters and I were split up. No one wanted to take all five of us, so each set of grandparents took two children, and my father’s sister took my youngest brother, Orlando. Because of my rebelliousness, I was eventually sent to a school for orphans, where I grew up sad, alone, and bitter.
When I turned 16 I began looking for my brothers and sisters. I found only three of them because Orlando had moved with my aunt to the United States. Then, not long after I had located him, Raúl was electrocuted while learning to work as an electrician.
Shaken by the loss, I confided to my grandmother my memory of Raúl’s sickness. My grandmother asked, “What are you talking about? Raúl was not ill. That was you. One night you became so sick the doctor gave you up for dead. We were in despair and wept over your bed. We never knew why your heart started beating again.”
I was so shocked I didn’t ask my grandmother for more information, but questions about the meaning of life began to torment me: Why had my life been preserved? What was I to do? What did it all mean?
Ten years later, I moved to the United States. There I found my brother Orlando. But I had yet to find the answers to my questions. I began seeking answers in various churches. But though each contributed bits and pieces, none of them had all the answers I needed. I prayed that God would help me come to know the truth.
Then one day in the spring of 1986, Latter-day Saint missionaries came to my house. They answered every question I had. And when I studied the Book of Mormon, I was moved to tears by the testimony I gained of its truthfulness. I was baptized in July. A little more than a year later, I arranged for Raúl’s vicarious baptism in the temple. Then he and I were sealed to our parents forever.
Finding the gospel has changed my life. Surrounded by my brothers and sisters in the gospel, I have never felt lonely since. I understand that my life has a purpose and that, as long as we rely on the Lord, pain can teach and strengthen us.
I find joy in the expectation that members of my family are waiting for me beyond the veil of mortality. I know that someday my spirit will leave my body again. But I know that because of Jesus Christ my spirit and my body will one day be forever reunited, and I can live with Him and with my family eternally.

Some years ago I was invited to speak to a group at Harvard University. At that time a member of the Church was campaigning for national office and this created much interest.
Both faculty members and students were to be present. I, of course, hoped that the gospel message would be accepted and that the meeting would end in harmony of views.
As I prayed that this might result, there came to me the strong impression that this prayer would not be answered.
I determined that however preposterous talk of angels and golden plates and restoration might be to them, I would teach the truth with quiet confidence, for I have a testimony of the truth. If some must come from the meeting unsettled and disturbed, it would not be me. Let them be disturbed, if they would.
It was as the Spirit foretold. Some shook their heads in amazement, even cynical amusement, that anyone could believe such things.
But I was at peace. I had taught the truth, and they could accept it or reject it as they pleased.
There is always the hope, and often it is true, that one among them with an open mind may admit one simple thought: “Could it possibly be true?” Combine that thought with sincere prayer, and one more soul enters a private sacred grove to find the answer to “Which of all the churches is true, and which should I join?”

In my stake as I was growing up, fathers didn’t baptize their children; they assigned the priests to have that experience. So a young man baptized me. Afterward my father took me to a store, gave me some money, and told me that I could buy anything I wanted that would remind me of my baptism.
I remember looking and looking. Finally I found five wonderful pictures of the Savior and His life. One of them showed the star when He was born, and the rest showed other special scenes. I thought those pictures were the most wonderful things! I put them up on the wall in my bedroom. As I looked at those pictures every day, I had a peaceful, happy testimony that Jesus Christ was the Savior and that Heavenly Father loved me. It was a wonderful reminder of my baptism and of the promises that I made to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

My experience trying a new recipe was surprisingly similar to my recent experience with setting goals.
Normally I love making goals. But this time I felt discouraged as I realized I was, once again, setting the same goal I’d been setting for years. I’d been wanting to change a habit but hadn’t made any progress. I felt like a failure.
Similar to how I felt about that bûche de Noël recipe, I felt like I wasn’t turning into who I wanted to be.
Jesus Christ, through His Atonement, is there to help me with my weaknesses, right? I found myself wondering why I was still the same, even though I was striving to turn to Him.
My thoughts continued to spiral in discouragement. And then I had a disheartening thought: “If I’m still the same weak, imperfect human I was five years ago, am I even worth the sacrifice He made?”
The Lord told His servants that “the worth of souls is great in the sight of God” (Doctrine and Covenants 18:10). In Matthew, Jesus said: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29–31).
God knows every creature. If He cares about the number of hairs on our head, He definitely cares about our efforts and desires to overcome our weaknesses.
Pondering this, I realized, “Yes, I am worth it. We are all worth it.”
Jesus went after the one lost sheep because He cares about each of us—individually (see Luke 15:4–7).
Recognizing the perfect love that He and Heavenly Father have for us reminded me that though it takes work to improve, I am worth the sacrifice the Savior made.

President David O. McKay (1873–1970) often related an account that occurred while he was a missionary serving in Scotland. He was feeling homesick after being in the mission for just a short time and spent a few hours sightseeing at nearby Stirling Castle. When he and his companion returned from visiting the castle, they passed a building where the stone above the door had a carved inscription of a quotation, usually attributed to Shakespeare, that read, “What-E’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.”
Recalling this experience, President McKay explained: “I said to myself, or the Spirit within me, ‘You are a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. More than that, you are here as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. You accepted the responsibility as a representative of the Church.’ Then I thought [about] what we had done that forenoon. We had been sightseeing; we had gained historical instruction and information, it is true, and I was thrilled with it. … However, that was not missionary work. … I accepted the message given to me on that stone, and from that moment we tried to do our part as missionaries in Scotland.”1
This message was so important and had such an impact on him that President McKay used it as inspiration for the rest of his life. He determined that whatever responsibility he had, he would do his very best.

When my parents got married, they bought the refrigerator secondhand. My mother took it upon herself to paint it a strange yellow color I have never seen on any other refrigerator. (She also ended up painting the floor, some of the other furniture, and a new dress.) But we actually saw the strange yellow color only when the refrigerator broke down, had to have a new part, and Mama took everything off of it.

Its color was hidden because my mother covered it with all sorts of things: a good cartoon from the newspaper, a well-known saying, my dad’s picture, scriptures to be memorized, the ticket from the cleaners, an ad for some product, a letter to be answered, a recipe, the shopping list, the ward telephone directory, and even our report cards. As we got older, she put up lists of weekly assignments, schedules, and messages for the family. We didn’t have a chalkboard or a bulletin board, so our parents also posted gospel pictures on the refrigerator.

In February, my mom would put up a big heart with all our names written on it; in March, her wedding picture and a list of some things she would like for her birthday. June she dedicated to Dad, because it was the month of his birthday—she did the same in the month each of us was born. In September, a Mexican flag was displayed. In November, the month in which my parents remembered their ancestors, Mom put up pictures of loved ones, providing an opening to talk about them. In December, she displayed a small nativity scene she had fashioned out of cloth.

Each time one of us went on a mission, Mom stuck a missionary photo on the fridge and didn’t take it down until our return. When Mom’s only brother died, she displayed on the refrigerator a picture of the two of them together and never took it down. She didn’t ever mention it, but to see her so profoundly contemplating that picture, we knew how much her brother meant to her.

Together, the refrigerator and my mother united the family.

Today in my own home there is a refrigerator that, although new and not a strange yellow color, is learning its duty of uniting and teaching the family. The old photo of my parents’ wedding, another of my aunt, and the formless artwork made by my little children hang there. And when I see these objects, I think of my mother and thank her for teaching me to understand how a refrigerator can nourish in more ways than just keeping food cold.

Sister Bednar’s mother is a faithful woman and an inspired homemaker. From the earliest days of her marriage, she carefully has kept the household financial records. For decades she has accounted conscientiously for the family income and expenditures using very simple ledgers. The information she has collected over the years is comprehensive and informative.
When Sister Bednar was a young woman, her mother used the data in the ledgers to emphasize basic principles of provident living and prudent home management. One day as they reviewed together various categories of expenses, her mother noted an interesting pattern. The costs for doctor visits and medicines for their family were far lower than might have been expected. She then related this finding to the gospel of Jesus Christ and explained to her daughter a powerful truth: as we live the law of tithing, we often receive significant but subtle blessings that are not always what we expect and easily can be overlooked. The family had not received any sudden or obvious additions to the household income. Instead, a loving Heavenly Father had bestowed simple blessings in seemingly ordinary ways. Sister Bednar always has remembered this important lesson from her mother about the help that comes to us through the windows of heaven, as promised by Malachi in the Old Testament (see Malachi 3:10).

At age 16 Soon Joo Park was baptized in Seoul, Korea. When she was 21, she knew, after much prayer, that her Father in Heaven wanted her to serve a full-time mission. She discussed it with her bishop, was interviewed by him, and began making preparations. But her nonmember parents were unhappy with her decision. Her father was particularly distressed. When she received a call to serve in the Salt Lake Temple Square Mission, she put her faith in the Lord and boarded a plane for the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah.
While on the plane, Sister Park wrote a letter to her father. She told him where she would be for the next 18 months and tried to explain how important it was for her to serve a mission. A short time later, she received a letter from her father saying that he loved her and understood her desire to serve.
Temple Square brought Soon Joo Park and her father together. Tourists from all over the world also come together on Temple Square in Salt Lake City, Utah, to learn about the Savior and his Church. More than 5 million people visit Temple Square each year, and some 200 missionaries greet and guide them through their visits.
What makes this mission unique is that no full-time elders serve in it. Several missionary couples serve on Temple Square in a Church-service capacity, so there are some senior elders on the Square. But they do not serve full time. All the full-time missionaries are sisters.
Within the relatively small area of their mission’s few city blocks—which include the Salt Lake Temple, the Tabernacle, the Assembly Hall, two visitors’ centers, several pioneer monuments, and the Joseph Smith Memorial Building—these sisters are helping to fulfill the prophecy that “every man shall hear the fulness of the gospel in his own tongue, and in his own language” (D&C 90:11).
Because visitors from so many nations come to Temple Square, the missionaries serving there speak on a daily basis the greatest number of languages of any mission in the world—making it perhaps the most international mission in the Church. Of the more than 3,000 motor coach bus tours that visited last year, more than half brought non-English speaking visitors. At any given time, as many as 30 different languages may be spoken on the Square.
Sister Najet Rahou of Nice, France, was excited when she received her call to Temple Square because she knew it would allow her to use the five languages she speaks—French, Spanish, English, Hindi, and Afrikaans. During the summer months, when the number of visitors is the highest, she speaks several of these languages daily.
Sister Mireille Van Tonder of Bordeaux, France, also speaks five languages—Afrikaans, French, Dutch, English, and German. She recently spoke with a young woman visiting from South Africa. Sister Van Tonder, who was born in South Africa, was able to tell the visitor about the Church in her native language. The young woman was surprised and excited to learn that the Church was in her own country and that she could be taught by missionaries when she returned home.
Many visitors the missionaries speak with are like this young woman from South Africa—they return home and are taught by others. This kind of proselyting is another reason the Salt Lake Temple Square Mission is so unusual. Temple Square missionaries teach visitors of the divinity of Jesus Christ and about the history of the Church primarily through tours and presentations; they do not give the standard missionary discussions or see converts baptized. They send the names of those interested in knowing more about the Church to the missions where the people live.
“Other missions find, teach, baptize, and fellowship. We only find, but we are very successful finders,” says Robert Charles Witt, former president of the Temple Square Mission.
Sister Cheri Reid of American Samoa explains the sisters’ role: “We are instruments in the Lord’s hands, and we share our testimonies a lot. We help people recognize the role the Lord plays in their lives to strengthen and uplift them.”
Sister Erika Lecaros of Lima, Peru, says of serving on Temple Square: “It’s one of the hardest missions because you give so much of yourself—yet you don’t get to see the results. You give the people all you can and share the Spirit and bear your testimony, but you rarely find out what happens to them.”
Because their responsibilities at Temple Square are so unique, each Temple Square missionary spends four months of her 18-month mission serving in another mission in the United States. This gives her an opportunity to give the standard missionary discussions and work with members of the Church.
For example, Sister Tiziana Vacirca, from the Novara Branch, Italy Milan Mission, spent four months serving in the New York New York South Mission. Although New York is very different from Utah, Sister Vacirca says she saw so many people there from all over the world that it reminded her of Temple Square.
There is a lot of behind-the-scenes work at Temple Square to keep the mission organized and running smoothly. Fortunately, the mission office is on the Square, so the missionaries are able to work with and see their mission president on a daily basis.
The sisters’ daily schedules are planned out carefully to accommodate different preparation days, shifts, languages, training, and tours. There are more than 150 specific duties for which missionaries are trained and to which they are assigned at various times. Some of these duties include greeting visitors as they enter and exit Temple Square, conducting the various tours offered to visitors, answering questions at information desks, helping visitors using the FamilySearch® Center to look for family history information, and assisting those wishing to see Legacy, a Church-produced film portraying pioneer courage.
Temple Square missionaries also donate several hours each week in additional service. They volunteer at Welfare Square in Salt Lake City, where they sort used clothing for worldwide distribution to the needy, assist patrons in the bishops’ storehouse, teach English as a second language to any wishing to learn, and work in the cannery or dairy.
This experience proved useful for Sister Ilona Machinic of Vilnius, Lithuania, who met a Russian man on Temple Square. Able to speak to him in his native language, she discovered that he needed assistance and was able to call upon the resources of Welfare Square to help him. He gratefully went on his way, promising to repay the kindness of the Church somehow.
Like all missionaries, Temple Square missionaries have one day every week as a preparation day. Their mission is also like all others in that they have district meetings, zone conferences, and transfers. Transfers may include a change in apartments, zones, companions, preparation days, or shifts.
Since all the full-time missionaries in the mission are sisters, all the leaders and trainers are sisters. Another unique aspect of the mission is that the sisters don’t spend all their time working in tandem with their companions. While they do serve together on the Square as companions, they are often given individual assignments.
There is an ongoing spiritual excitement on Temple Square due to a variety of uplifting activities, such as general conference, Tabernacle Choir rehearsals and performances, and concerts in the Assembly Hall. The sisters are also able to attend sessions at the Salt Lake Temple twice a month on their preparation days.
Sister Tupou Naeata of Tonga explains that even with that excitement, there are challenges: “The Temple Square Mission is not as difficult physically as it is spiritually. There is such a great responsibility to be an example and to smile all the time and to always have the Spirit. It is amazing how God works through us.”
For example, Sister Lai Chong Wong of Hong Kong was conducting a tour for seven Cantonese visitors. Two of the visitors were asking a lot of tough questions and making negative comments to others on the tour; this type of experience is not uncommon, because people often come to Temple Square with preconceived ideas about the Church. However, the Spirit was so strong that Sister Wong was able to answer all of their questions and help the other visitors feel the Spirit.
What seems common to all the missionaries on Temple Square is their love for the Lord and their love for one another. The great unifying force on Temple Square is the Lord’s Spirit. It does not matter that the missionaries come from many different cultures. It does not matter that they speak different languages. During the time they serve together on Temple Square, they truly are of one heart.
“Even though my time on Temple Square will end, I will always wear my name tag in my heart, and my mission will continue through my life,” says Sister Lecaros, voicing the thoughts of missionaries serving throughout the world.

Explorer Everett likes to dig for treasure. He pretends that sparkly rocks are gold coins. He pretends that sticks are dinosaur bones. Everett runs to show Mom what he found. Look out! Everett trips over a rock and hurts his knee. He feels very sad. Mom puts a bandage on his knee. “Let’s say a prayer,” Mom says. They pray that his knee will feel better. Now Explorer Everett is on the hunt again! As he looks for a treasure map, his knee starts to feel better. Everett feels happy. He knows that Heavenly Father and Jesus love him.

How can following the prophet help us? Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles told a story about his father, who worked and lived in the home of President Joseph F. Smith (1838–1918):
One night Elder Perry’s father came home very late and tried to open his bedroom door. The door would not open. He pushed and pushed, and it still would not open. He gave up and turned to sleep on a rug that was in the hall. As he turned, he bumped into a nearby, partially opened door—and woke up the prophet!
Although it was midnight, President Smith came over and showed Elder Perry’s father how to open the door by pulling instead of pushing, and how to get around in the dark: “Keep your arms in front, but hands together.”
Elder Perry teaches us what a prophet does to help us. He said, “Isn’t a prophet someone who teaches us to open doors we could not open ourselves—doors to greater light and truth? Isn’t a prophet like a pair of hands clasped together in front of the body of the Church, helping members navigate [find their way] through the dark [hallways] of the world?” (Ensign, Nov. 1994, 18–19.)

It has been almost a decade since my husband told me he was being investigated for a serious white-collar crime.
For a long time, no one knew what was happening except for our parents, our bishop, and our stake president. Not even our children knew. I felt as if I was living a double life, trying to smile and pretend that my world wasn’t crashing down around me.
Despite the turmoil, I had never felt closer to my Savior than I did during those months. I received a priesthood blessing and learned that I could pray to understand my husband’s feelings and needs. After months of prayer, I received confirmation that I needed to stand by my husband.
After a year of being investigated, we were financially ruined and not sure how to continue paying our legal bills.
I watched as my husband became depressed. He slowly began to shut us out, and he would often comment that he didn’t want to live anymore. Meanwhile, I had to go back to work and try to manage family life. It was overwhelming, and I was scared.
Before the court hearing, we each received priesthood blessings in the bishop’s office and felt peace. It was expected that my husband would be placed on probationary supervision for a short season. But as the judge pronounced the sentence of seven years in prison, I had a panic attack. I literally fell to the floor, and someone called the paramedics. I spent three days in bed after that, worried, scared, and confused.
My husband’s term of incarceration would begin in four months. During that time, our family searched for ways to cope and prepare. I remember how simple things like walking into church caused us debilitating anxiety, as we felt alone.
An inspired stake president started meeting weekly with us to set goals to help keep us from sinking further. Even with the generosity of family and friends, we knew nothing was going to make this go away. I was about to be a single mother! Even after years of living the gospel, I struggled to have faith that I could survive. Negative feelings and emotions flooded my mind. I felt worthless, broken, and alone.
Finally, the time came for my husband and me to travel to the prison where he would be incarcerated. I sobbed uncontrollably watching him walk into that facility. I didn’t know how I would be able to go home to my kids alone.
The challenges of supporting a loved one who is incarcerated seem to be endless. Because of the expense of traveling from our home to the prison, our family was only able to visit him about once every six weeks. After two years, he was transferred to a facility closer to our home, so our visits became more frequent. My children often missed school to see their dad and missed opportunities to be with friends and attend Church activities.
All of this took an emotional toll on the children. Our youngest child constantly worried that something bad was going to happen if he was not with me. He refused to go to activities unless he could call me, and I had a hard time getting him to attend school. He became quite defiant, especially toward his father.
So many life events took place while my husband was incarcerated. Our son got married, a missionary came home, and another missionary left. A child graduated from college, and another graduated from high school. Our first two grandchildren were born.
Going through these milestones alone was difficult. It was hard to keep our marriage intact, and at times even harder to feel close to God. Throughout it all, my children and I did our best to put our faith in God. We regularly attended professional counseling to deal with the anger, depression, and anxiety that came as a result.
The closer we got to my husband’s release date, the more excited and fearful I became. Of course I was excited to see him! But I feared that it would not be easy for him to integrate back into family life after so much time away. Everything that happened before he left came rushing back to my memory, accompanied by all the horrible feelings.
When my husband was released, he spent a month in a halfway house, which limited the time we could spend with him so he could gradually ease back into society. He was then released to home confinement for six months. Finally, he was home!
Since my husband has returned home, every single day has brought new triumphs and new struggles. We call it “cleaning up the debris.” There are still difficult moments, but we love and value each other more than ever. We are quicker to forgive and move on. Our treatment toward each other has improved as we serve each other, show kindness, and say “I love you.”
Meanwhile, we try hard to love our kids through their struggles as they continue trying to heal from this experience. Our family still has a lot of hard and painful work ahead of us. But, with help from God and professionals, we are slowly becoming unified the way we once were.
Honestly, the first six months after my husband returned home were spiritually tough. But now we feel more comfortable at church. We are again teaching the same Sunday School class we were teaching when my husband was incarcerated. Our son is in that class, and it gives him an opportunity to hear his dad’s testimony in a way that he has missed. Some Sundays are still filled with anxiety for both of us, but we are getting better.
We are forever changed. Although we have learned some good things from this experience, which I will describe below, I have to acknowledge that each member of our family is still haunted to some degree by the time my husband spent incarcerated. And we are still burdened by the aftermath of the financial, emotional, and social toll it has taken on each of us. Some days are harder than others. Some days I wonder if life will ever really feel normal. At the same time, I know that through Christ, complete healing and forgiveness are possible.
I’ve gained some things because of this experience. First of all, I have gained lifelong friends who did not allow me to get lost in this trial. I found friends I didn’t realize I had and met new friends who were in a similar set of circumstances.
Also, so much self-discovery happened while my husband was incarcerated. I learned what being committed to an eternal marriage really means. I learned to rely on God, and I gained a better understanding of His timing. I learned He answers prayers in ways that allow me to grow while still giving me light and hope.
I learned I have amazing, strong kids. I learned I can do the unthinkable: not only can I survive in the face of adversity, I can excel. I learned that it does not make me weak to need others. I learned to rely on and ask for priesthood blessings. I learned that no request is too small for my Heavenly Father.
I still have anxiety and am fearful of a lot of things, but every day brings healing. My husband and I have witnessed so many miracles these past eight years. I am no longer angry. I know Heavenly Father has been and will continue to be with us—before, during, and after this trial.
This I know to be true: friends, family, priesthood leaders, and the Lord helped my children and me make it through my husband’s incarceration.

“I used to stay in the mountain, so my bishop told me I should come and stay with the missionary sisters in the missionary apartment. They used to give me transport to pay bike to come to chapel to take my MTC class,” explained Sister Combay of the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission.
Missionaries already serving in the field were a great help. Sister Combay said, “I did not know how to use computer, but they (sister missionaries) taught me, and I started using the computer. When we had class, I was the one putting on the computer. . . . So, before our instructor came to start class, I already knew how to put computer on and to go onto the system.”
Sister Combay stated that after she went into the field full-time, “I was missing the MTC because our instructors were so lovely. They were nice to us, and they also teach us the things we should know. Even sometimes they call us for interview, one by one. We talk to them, share our problem with them.”

I couldn’t help looking back. My feet were moving one way and my heart the other. Through my tears I could see Mama still standing on the porch. She was getting smaller with each step I took.
So many times I had asked her, “Must I be the one to go, Mama? I am only eleven years old. Are you sure I can do it all by myself?” And each time she reassured me. Yes, I was the one to go. And yes, this was Heavenly Father’s way for me to reach Zion. With Mama praying for me, I knew I shouldn’t doubt.
Mama wanted to go west with the Saints. She had no money for such a great undertaking, but she was a woman of faith and knew that her prayers would be answered.
Then Mama found a way for me to go. An elderly blind lady needed a companion to help her walk across the many, many miles of hazardous terrain to the mountains of Utah. So that is how I came to leave my mother and my family and cross the plains without them.
When I left, tears were streaming down my face. With all the courage I could muster, I clasped hands with the blind lady and walked away.
My eyes became her eyes. I guided her with my sight; she guided me with the wisdom of her years. Together we walked every step of the way through the dust and the dirt of the crude trails. After many long, tiring days and weeks and months, we made it!

When Rebecca, 17, sits down to play the piano, she isn’t alone for long. Pretty soon her brother Michael, 19, joins in on the guitar or saxophone. And younger sister and brother, Alesha, 14, and Logan, 10, might sing or dance.

For the Raymond Maire family in Silverdale, New Zealand, music is something that brings a special harmony to their home. And it is a connection they have with their aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents.

“I play six instruments,” said Michael. “I like to jam with my friends. I listen to a lot of old jazz.”

“We all play something,” said Rebecca.

The Maires get their musical ability from their grandfather. Their mom, Raewyn, explains, “Michael learned the guitar first from his grandad. He spent a lot of time with Michael and helped him understand the basics of music. Once he picked that up everything else was easy.”

Family, including their extended family, is very important to the Maires. Michael explains, “We are lucky because pretty much our whole extended family is just around the corner. Our grandparents are just down the road.”

“My best friends are my cousins,” said Rebecca. “We are so close that when we see each other, even if it is just the next day, it’s a really joyful reunion. We all support each other through everything we’ve had to go through. It’s a neat feeling.”

One of the things that brothers and sisters and cousins can support each other in is their commitment to living the gospel. “The word gets around that we won’t do certain things,” said Rebecca. “We don’t realize that people watch us all the time until someone says, ‘You’re a Mormon, aren’t you?’ Or they say, ‘I saw some missionaries from your church. Is that what your brother is going to be?’”

When Michael is serving, he’ll know that there are a lot of folks at home supporting him. And maybe Grandpa will be teaching yet another grandchild about music.

In 2016, one of our distant relatives invited us to visit The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My husband and son attended church, where the missionaries taught them about the restored gospel. They were baptized, and later my youngest daughter and I also accepted the gospel and were baptized. We moved from our old house into a better home, which was filled with peace and the love of God. In 2019, my husband passed away at the early age of 42. I was heartbroken and felt helpless. I worried about how I would raise our children without him, as he had been the only earning member of our family. I was a homemaker and did not know Hindi (local Language) well enough to communicate confidently, which made the situation even more difficult.
However, I knew that God had not abandoned me. I placed my faith in Him, obeyed His commandments, and faced these challenges without losing hope. I found work in a women’s sewing company, and three years later, I became a union leader, helping and empowering other women. My children completed their education and began living stable, independent lives. Our home became filled with peace and happiness. I truly felt the love of our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I came to understand God’s Plan of Happiness, that families can be reunited after this life and remain together forever. I have faith that I will reunite with my husband again, and I know that Jesus Christ has made this possible.
As I strengthened my relationship with God, I learned that He wants His children to grow and learn through trials. These experiences help strengthen our faith in Jesus Christ as we obey His commandments and live the gospel. As I did so, I felt myself drawing closer to God. Looking back, I see that it was God’s plan to bring me from a small village to this place and into the restored gospel. I am deeply grateful that my son served a mission and returned home honorably, and that my daughter is currently serving a mission.