Gospel Story Finder

“My parents taught me Christian principles, and we read from the Bible together as a family, but I resisted attending their church. I tried to fill the emptiness I felt inside with the works of great philosophers. But that emptiness wasn’t filled until my sister introduced me to the missionaries. The gospel of Jesus Christ broke down the wall I had created between myself and God. As our entire family learned about the gospel and decided to be baptized, I came to understand in my heart that I had always hidden there the solid moral and spiritual principles that my parents had taught me. When I opened my heart, I was able to appreciate what my parents had always tried to teach me.”
Corrado Campisi,Alessandria Branch,Vercelli Italy District

My association with the General Authorities has been filled with many great experiences. A few years ago while Elder S. Dilworth Young was caring for his first wife who was very ill, he invited Sister Burton and me to their home to sample his homemade bread. He is an excellent cook, and we enjoyed not only a fine meal, but excellent company. After the meal he showed us a picture he was painting, and we expressed our admiration for his talent.
“I wish I could do that,” I said.
“Why don’t you then?” he asked.
I told Elder Young that I had bought some paints, brushes, and canvases just for fun but didn’t even know how to mix colors, let alone paint. He then offered to show me how and suggested I learn by actual experience. He said we could take a day off sometime when we were both free and go up into the mountains together and paint.
I thought he was just making conversation, but he soon followed through. Free days are rather rare for General Authorities. Their busy schedules often conflict. But finally we did find two such days before winter came. I didn’t learn to paint, but I did learn to love that great man. We sat together, ate lunch together, and talked a great deal. Between brushing away flies, we even did a little painting. During those hours together I learned to appreciate Elder Young as a fine storyteller, a warm companion, a great friend, and a man of God.

The second experience is from a BYU graduate:
As a sophomore, I had a roommate named Krista. She ministered to me by just being a loyal and kind friend. She asked about my life and always listened. She noticed what my talents were and suggested a field of work I never would have considered—the next 15 years of my life were altered because she noticed my skills and abilities and I took her advice related to a career. She could have noticed my inabilities and weaknesses—maybe she did, but she never commented on them. She just helped me be the best person I could by believing in me.

I now would like to share another experience. In January of 2019, my wife, Debbie, and I were invited into the office of President Nelson. He had positioned a chair close to us, and we sat almost knee to knee. After extending to us our current calling, President Nelson turned to Debbie and focused on her. He was kind, loving, gentle, and full of joy, like the perfect father or grandfather. He held Debbie’s hand and patted it, reassuring her that it would be OK and that our family would be blessed. It seemed to us at that moment that we were the most important people to him and that he had all the time in the world for us. We left his office that Friday afternoon feeling reassured, loved, and joyful.

On Monday we saw the news. During that same day that President Nelson had spent with us, one of his daughters had passed away from cancer. We were stunned. Our hearts were full as we mourned for him and his family. Our hearts were also full of gratitude for his Christlike attention to us while mourning for his daughter who was suffering.

As we pondered this experience, we asked ourselves, “How could he be so kind, loving, and even joyful at such a difficult time?” The answer is because he knows. He knows that Christ has been victorious. He knows he will be with his daughter again and will spend an eternity with her. Joy and eternal perspective come through being bound to the Savior by making and keeping covenants and through Christlike discipleship.

When I was a mission president in Australia, I once said to those of my missionaries in Tasmania: “Tomorrow we shall climb Mt. Wellington and hold our missionary meeting on the top. We shall there seek to commune with the Lord and partake of his Spirit.”
We made the climb, and while on top of the peak we visited a television broadcasting station. A bright young man explained to us in words I had never heard, and using principles I could not and do not understand, how the sounds and scenes of television were broadcast into the valley below.
That night, back in the city of Hobart, my two young sons and I sat before a television set that was tuned to the proper wave band, and we saw and heard and experienced what had been described to us in words.
Now I think this illustrates perfectly what is involved in the receipt of revelation and the seeing of visions. We can read about visions and revelations in the records of the past, we can study the inspired writings of people who had the fullness of the gospel in their day, but we cannot comprehend what is involved until we see and hear and experience for ourselves.
This Tabernacle is now full of words and music. Handel’s Messiah is being sung, and the world’s statesmen are propagandizing their people. But we do not hear any of it.
This Tabernacle is full of scenes from Vietnam and Washington. There is even a picture of men walking on the surface of the moon. But we are not seeing these things. The minute, however, in which we tune a radio to the proper wave band and tune a television receiving set on the proper channel, we begin to hear and see and experience what otherwise remains completely unknown to us.
And so it is with the revelations and visions of eternity. They are around us all the time. This Tabernacle is full of the same things which are recorded in the scriptures and much more. The vision of the degrees of glory is being broadcast before us, but we do not hear or see or experience because we have not tuned our souls to the wave band on which the Holy Ghost is broadcasting.
Joseph Smith said: “The Holy Ghost is a revelator.” And, “No man can receive the Holy Ghost without receiving revelations.” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith [Deseret Book Co., 1968], p. 328.)
Moroni said: “… by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” (Moro. 10:5.)
The Comforter knoweth all things; he is commissioned to bear witness of the Father and the Son, to reveal, to teach, and to testify—and he is broadcasting all the truths of salvation, and all the knowledge and wisdom of God, out into all immensity all of the time.
How this is done we do not know. We cannot comprehend God or the laws by which he governs the universe. But that it does happen we know because here in the valley below, when we attune our souls to the Infinite, we hear and see and experience the things of God.
The laws governing radio and television have existed from the time of Adam to the present moment, but only in modern times have men heard and seen and experienced these miraculous things. And the laws have always existed whereby men can see visions, hear the voice of God, and partake of the things of the Spirit. But millions of people everywhere live and die without tasting the good word of God, because they do not obey the laws which implant the revelations of the Lord in their souls.
And may I say that the only way to gain true religion is to receive it from the Lord. True religion is revealed religion; it is not a creation of man’s devising; it comes from God.
Man did not create God, nor can he redeem himself. No man can resurrect himself or assign himself to an inheritance in a heavenly kingdom. Salvation comes from God, on his terms, and the things men must do to gain it can be known only by revelation.
God stands revealed or he remains forever unknown, and the things of God are and can be known only by and through the Spirit of God.
True religion deals with spiritual things. We do not come to a knowledge of God and his laws through intellectuality, or by research, or by reason. I have an average mind—one that is neither better nor worse than the general run of mankind. In the realm of intellectual attainment I have a doctor’s degree, and I hope my sons after me will reach a similar goal. In their sphere, education and intellectuality are devoutly to be desired.
But when contrasted with spiritual endowments, they are of but slight and passing worth. From an eternal perspective what each of us needs is a Ph.D. in faith and righteousness. The things that will profit us everlastingly are not the power to reason, but the ability to receive revelation; not the truths learned by study, but the knowledge gained by faith; not what we know about the things of the world, but our knowledge of God and his laws.
Joseph Smith said that a man could learn more about the things of God by looking into heaven for five minutes than by reading all the books ever written upon the subject of religion. Religion is something which must be experienced.
I know people who can talk endlessly about religion but who have never had a religious experience. I know people who have written books about religion but who have about as much spirituality as a cedar post. Their interest in gospel doctrine is to defend their own speculative views rather than to find out what the Lord thinks about whatever is involved. Their conversations and their writings are in the realm of reason and the intellect; the Spirit of God has not touched their souls; they have not been born again and become new creatures of the Holy Ghost; they have not received revelation.
It is the privilege and the right of every member of the Church to receive revelation and to enjoy the gifts of the Spirit. When we are confirmed members of the Church, we receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, which is the right to the constant companionship of that member of the Godhead, based on faithfulness. The actual enjoyment of this gift depends upon personal worthiness. “God shall give unto you knowledge by his Holy Spirit,” the revelation says to the Saints, “yea, by the unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost. …” (D&C 121:26.)
Speaking of the revelations received by his father, Nephi said: “… he truly spake many great things … which were hard to be understood, save a man should inquire of the Lord. …”
Of these same revelations, Laman and Lemuel said: “… we cannot understand the words which our father hath spoken. …”
Nephi asked: “Have ye inquired of the Lord?”
They replied: “We have not; for the Lord maketh no such thing known unto us.”
Then Nephi came forth with this glorious pronouncement: “How is it that ye do not keep the commandments of the Lord? How is it that ye will perish, because of the hardness of your hearts?
“Do ye not remember the things which the Lord hath said?—If ye will not harden your hearts, and ask me in faith, believing that ye shall receive, with diligence in keeping my commandments, surely these things shall be made known unto you.” (1 Ne. 15:3, 7–11.)
It is the right of members of the Church to receive revelation. Joseph Smith said: “… God hath not revealed anything to Joseph, but what he will make known unto the Twelve, and even the least Saint may know all things as fast as he is able to bear them. …” (Teachings, p. 149.)
Also: “It is the privilege of every Elder to speak of the things of God; and could we all come together with one heart and one mind in perfect faith the veil might as well be rent today as next week, or any other time. …” (Teachings, p. 9.)
Religion must be felt and experienced. In the record of the ministry of the resurrected Lord among the Nephites, we find this account: Jesus “knelt upon the earth; and behold he prayed unto the Father, and the things which he prayed cannot be written, and the multitude did bear record who heard him.
“And after this manner do they bear record: The eye hath never seen, neither hath the ear heard, before, so great and marvelous things as we saw and heard Jesus speak unto the Father;
“And no tongue can speak, neither can there be written by any man, neither can the hearts of men conceive so great and marvelous things as we both saw and heard Jesus speak; and no one can conceive of the joy which filled our souls at the time we heard him pray for us unto the Father.” (3 Ne. 17:15–17.)
Then of a subsequent prayer the scriptural account says: “And tongue cannot speak the words which he prayed, neither can be written by man the words which he prayed.
“And the multitude did hear and do bear record; and their hearts were open and they did understand in their hearts the words which he prayed.
“Nevertheless, so great and marvelous were the words which he prayed that they cannot be written, neither can they be uttered by man.” (3 Ne. 19:32–34.)
Religion comes from God by revelation and deals with spiritual things; and unless and until a man has received revelation, he has not received religion, and he is not on the path leading to salvation in our Father’s kingdom.
I bear testimony of these things because I have received revelation—revelation which tells me (among other things) that Jesus Christ is the Son of God; that Joseph Smith is a prophet, through whom the knowledge of Christ and of salvation has been restored for this day; and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is in literal reality the kingdom of God on earth. And of these things I do testify, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

One pivotal learning experience occurred in the central part of Africa in the Republic of the Congo. The village of Luputa is a community of about 250,000 people. There was no central water system to support the daily needs of the people. Missionaries found it difficult to teach people, because they were always walking to obtain water to meet their daily water needs. The women of the village walked about thirty-five kilometers (twenty miles) to a spring where they loaded a forty-pound water container and then returned home carrying the container on their head. It took about eight hours a day to obtain their water for cooking, washing, drinking, bathing and all other needs. There was precious little time left in the day to do anything else.
Seeing this commitment to provide clean water for their families, the Church offered to assist the villages by building a reservoir and distribution system for the community. The villagers would have to sacrifice their time and energy to dig the trench for the water line from the spring to the reservoir. The Church bought the pipe and built the concrete water stations. It took three years of hard work and sacrifice to dig the trench, but with the installation completed, the women now only had to walk an average of fifteen to twenty minutes to obtain their water.
Just think of the change that brought into their lives. Now they had time to care for their children, read, learn and serve each other. In changing their time commitment to obtaining water, the people of Luputa now had time to listen to the message of the gospel. Within one year of putting the new pipes in place, over two thousand people had joined the Church. In June of 2011 the tenth stake was organized in the Republic of the Congo.

Jenny had been having a wonderful time, but now her cousins were going to play hide-and-seek, and they said that she couldn’t play with them.
“You’re too little,” Jason said. “You might get lost.”
“Yeah,” Lee agreed before he threw a ball into the air and Jason caught it. “My dad said that this mountain country is so big that a kid could get lost and might never be found.”
That did sound scary. “But somebody would find me,” Jenny insisted.
“Might not up here,” Lee said. “Nobody lives in this forest except animals.”
Jenny said stoutly, “I’m five years old, and that’s old enough not to get lost.”
But her cousins ran off without her.
Jenny walked to the picnic table and watched her mother and her aunts unpack food while the men started a fire. She heard Jason call, “I’ll be it! Don’t anybody get far from camp.”
Jason began to count. Jenny saw Ryan and Becca and the other cousins running to hide. She thought, I’ll hide too. They won’t know, so I’ll be the last one caught. Then they’ll let me play.
Jenny ran up a slope where tiny wild-flowers blossomed. Wood chips and brown pine needles muffled her footsteps. She saw a big tree to hide behind, but Stacy was already there.
Jenny ran on until she tripped over a rock and went rolling. She was afraid that she had made too much noise, so she listened, but nobody called her. She got up and looked around. I know, she thought. There are bushes in that little gully. I’ll hide over there.
When she reached the gully, Jenny saw the biggest tree that she had ever seen up ahead, so she climbed another slope and ran behind the tree. She leaned against it to catch her breath. Has Jason already called, “Ready or not, you shall be caught!” she wondered.
She waited for what seemed like a long time, but she never heard Jason. Jenny didn’t hear her other cousins, either. Everyone else has been found, she decided. Now I’ll run in and surprise them.
Laughing, Jenny ran toward where she thought the camp was. But she couldn’t see the big tree where Stacy had hidden. She couldn’t see anyone else, either.
Jenny stopped running. Her heart was pounding, partly because she had run so fast and partly because she was becoming frightened. She began to run in another direction. But soon she stopped again. Nothing looked familiar, yet everything looked the same. All the trees, all the bushes, all the green slopes looked just like all the other trees and bushes and slopes.
Jenny took a deep breath. I’m lost, she thought. I’m really lost. She started to cry, then stopped. Maybe her cousins were playing a trick on her because she had joined the game without their permission. They were probably hiding right now, watching her. They must be waiting for her to cry. Then they would all jump out and run in a circle around her.
But soon Jenny knew that her cousins weren’t hiding. She knew that she could not find the camp. She didn’t know which way to go. There were so many trees in the forest, and the forest was so very quiet!
Jenny started to cry again. She ran very fast. Twice she stumbled and fell. When she tripped again, Jenny didn’t get up. She turned over to lie on her back. She looked up.
Tops of towering spruce trees were far, far above her. The sky was a deep blue. Fluffy white clouds looked so close that Jenny thought that maybe they would drift right down to touch her. Then something soft did touch Jenny’s hand.
Slowly she turned her head. A wee brown chipmunk watched her, its black eyes like bright, tiny beads. As Jenny watched, the chipmunk skittered right up her arm. She hardly felt its little feet.
Jenny stayed very still. She thought, I’m not alone. There are friends in the forest. And my very special Friend is here.
How could she have forgotten that Heavenly Father would watch over her? She folded her arms, and the wee chipmunk ran away so fast that she saw only its bushy tail.
Jenny closed her eyes. She asked her Heavenly Father to please keep her safe until her daddy could find her.
Jenny started to stand up; then she stopped and listened. A voice seemed to come from somewhere, maybe from inside her head. She shut her eyes. What was she supposed to remember? Then it came to her. Daddy had given a lesson in family home evening about what children should do when they are lost.
“If you ever get lost,” he had told Jenny and her brothers, “don’t get so frightened that you just run and run. You would probably just get more lost than ever. Instead, stand very still. Look all around you. Find a tree that you think looks like the friendliest tree in the forest. Go to that tree and hug it. Stay right there. Hug your friendly tree and wait.”
Now Jenny looked around. Finally she saw a tree that looked about as big around as her father, but much taller. She ran to it. Her arms would not reach all the way around, but she put her cheek against the tree’s rough bark and hugged it as tightly as she could. “Heavenly Father,” she whispered, “help Daddy find me by my tree before it gets dark.”
Then Jenny began to call. “Daddy, I’m here!” She waited. Then she called again.
The sun went down, and Jenny began to shiver with cold. She was afraid of the dark too. She wanted to cry, but she hugged her tree instead. The tree stood straight and still as if to keep her safe. Jenny called again. “Daddy! I’m over here!” She waited a few moments and called again. And again.
Suddenly Jenny stood straighter. Had she heard something? Was that her father’s voice calling from far away?
“Jenny? Can you hear me? Jenny, where are you?”
“Over here, Daddy!” Jenny called as loudly as she could. “Over here, by my tree!”
A few moments later her father came running. He picked Jenny up and held her very tightly. Jenny cried, then laughed. Then Jenny hugged her father even more tightly than she had hugged her tree.

The return trip from Palestine went from bad to worse. “The pleasure trip was a synagogue, . . . a funeral excursion without a corpse,” Twain wrote for the New York Herald as soon as they landed (Writings 2:400); but, like the difficulty of the mines, that discouraging trip was to lead to another monumental turning point in his life and again a period of intense religious interest. Through the youngest passenger on board the Quaker City, eighteen-year-old Charles Langdon of Elmira, New York, Mark Twain met and fell immediately in love with the boy’s older sister, Olivia.

As it turned out, falling in love with Livy Langdon was the closest thing to an orthodox religious conversion Sam Clemens ever experienced. On the first anniversary of their meeting Sam would write,
I did have such a struggle the first day I saw you . . . to keep from loving you with all my heart. You seemed to my bewildered vision a visiting Spirit from the upper air. A something to worship, reverently and at a distance. [Dixon Wecter, ed., The Love Letters of Mark Twain, p. 43 hereinafter cited as Love Letters]
Indeed she came to be his goddess, the only one in which he ever fully believed.

He immediately tried to press his relationship beyond the genteel brother-and-sister language Livy insisted upon and, grimly earnest, proposed marriage. Stunned by his abruptness, Livy recovered only to say something about his being her brother for as long as he liked. Byronically he fled Elmira and wrote back—“I do not regret that I have loved you, still love you and shall always love you.” Pleadingly he wrote,
Write me something from time to time—texts from the New Testament if nothing else occurs to you—or dissertations on [the sin of] smoking—or extracts from your book of sermons—anything whatever. [Knowing it is from you] will be sufficient. [Love Letters, pp. 19–20]
When a reply arrived with a small picture enclosed, Sam rushed off a letter worthy of any nineteenth-century tract.
You say to me “I shall pray for you daily.” Not any words that have ever been spoken to me have touched me like these . . . I beg that you will continue to pray for me—for I have a vague, faraway sort of idea that it may not be wholly in vain. In one respect, at least, it shall not be in vain—for I will so mend my conduct that I shall grow worthier of your prayers and of your goodwill and sisterly solicitude as the days go by. Furthermore, (It has taken me long to make up my mind to say these grave words which once said cannot be recalled). [sic] I will “pray with you” as you ask; and with such faith and such encouragement withall as are in me though feeble and of little worth I feel they must be. It seems strange enough to me—this reverence, this solemnity, this supplication—and yet you must surely have some faith that it will not necessarily be useless else you would not have suggested it. [Love Letters, p. 21]

Sam rushed to Elmira and arrived almost as soon as his letter. Within twenty-four hours he had again proposed marriage. Again he was refused. A carriage accident as he was leaving the house kept him at the Langdons’ for two more weeks, at the end of which he proposed marriage a third time. A third time the answer was no. Nevertheless, such determination over the following months was finally successful. Ready to leap over church steeples at Livy’s acceptance, Sam wrote to a friend:
I touch no more spirituous liquors after this day (though I have made no promises) I shall do no act that . . . Livy might be pained to hear of and shall seek the society of the good—I shall be a Christian. I shall climb—climb—climb—towards this bright sun that is shining in the heaven of my happiness until all that is gross and unworthy is hidden in the mists of darkness of that lower earth. . . . I shall be worthy—yet. Livy believes in me . . . I believe in myself. . . . I believe in God—and through the breaking clouds I see the star of hope rising in the placid blue beyond. I bow my reverent head. [Love Letters, p. 50]

Sam began to pray for Livy. Livy, of course, prayed for Sam. It appears, however, that Mr. And Mrs. Langdon prayed for themselves. They were not entirely taken with this young humorist and in fact would not give their permission for the marriage. Mr. Langdon wrote a frank letter to his daughter’s suitor, rebuking him for some of his drawing-room indiscretions and asking him to relax the pace of the courtship until some reliable character references could be obtained. Unfortunately there were none to obtain. Shaken, Sam wrote his prospective father-in-law that while his life had not been entirely unblameworthy on the Pacific coast, nevertheless, “Men as lost as I have found a Savior, and why not I?” (Love Letters, p. 37). He wrote to Livy and reassured her that he was reading not once but several times the sermons of Henry Ward Beecher contained in the Plymouth pamphlets she regularly sent him. With painful candor he confessed, “You know the child must crawl before it walks—and I must do right for love of you while I am in the infancy of Christianity; but then I can do right for love of the Savior when I shall have gotten my growth” (Love Letters, p. 34)—a growth he never obtained and yet one more way in which he was always a “youth.” His earlier zeal was simply not sustaining him in such difficult times and he confessed to her that religion seemed “well nigh unattainable” and he felt like “giving up in despair.” Yet at that very moment both of Livy’s parents wrote to express their confidence in him. The Millennium itself could not have been more gratefully—and enthusiastically—received. Now less than a month away from formal engagement, Sam wrote a letter which probably indicates the summit of his Christian journey, however modest the mountain. It seems by every standard to be both genuine in its tone and truly religious in its intent.

Livy—
Let us believe that God has destined us for each other. . . . Let us hope and believe that we shall walk hand in hand in love and worship of Him— . . . and so journeying, pass at last the shadowed boundaries of Time and stand redeemed and saved, beyond the threshold and within the light of that land whose Prince is the Lord of rest eternal. God will bless you in it—will bless us both, I fervently believe.
I bless you for your religious counsel, Livy—and more and more every day, for with every passing day I understand it better and appreciate it more. I am “dark” yet—I see I am still depending on my own strength to lift myself up, and upon my own sense of what is right to guide me in the Way—but not always, Livy, not always. I see the Savior dimly at times, and at intervals, very near—would that the intervals were not so sad a length apart! Sometimes it is a pleasure to me to pray, night and morning, in cars and everywhere, twenty times a day—and then again the whole spirit of religion is motionless within me from the rising clear to the setting of the sun. . . . But I have hope— . . . I fear I would distrust a religious faith that came upon me suddenly—that came upon me otherwise than deliberately, and prove, step by step as it came. You will blame me for this, Livy—but be lenient with me, for you know I grope blindly as yet. [Love Letters, pp. 44–45]

Now, let me mention a powerful example of taking upon us the name of Jesus Christ by bearing testimony of Him through actions.

Last August, I accompanied Elder Jonathan S. Schmitt to the open house of the Feather River California Temple in Yuba City. There I had the blessing of guiding groups on a tour of the temple. One of these groups included a member of the Church, Virgil Atkinson, and seven friends of other faiths. Toward the end of the visit, in a temple sealing room, Brother Atkinson was emotional as he expressed his love for his friends who had come to the temple that day. Almost immediately after he had done so, a woman in the group stood up and said, “We all love Virgil. He has never imposed his faith on us. But he is not shy about it either. He just lives what he believes.”

Over the years, Brother Atkinson’s Christlike living served as a powerful testimony to his friends. His example is strong evidence that he has taken upon himself the name of Christ.

I joined the Church as a single mother in 1996, several years after my twin sister, Theresa, joined. When Theresa was baptized, a mutual friend said to me, “Why would she join that church? They make their women stay in the background.”
From association with members of the Church, I knew that my friend’s understanding was inaccurate—the marriages I saw among members of the Church were some of the strongest and most equal I had ever seen. I knew that only men in the Church held the priesthood, but I sensed that they used the priesthood to benefit all.
That truth was reinforced to me when I was diagnosed with breast cancer 11 years after my baptism. Upon hearing the news, I received a spiritual prompting that I should seek a priesthood blessing, which I did that evening. In the blessing, I was promised that the cancer would leave my body, that my body would be made whole, and that the Spirit would guide my doctors.
That blessing was the first of many I would receive over the next three years of treatment and surgeries. It gave me faith to know that healing would come physically if it was the Lord’s will or that it would come spiritually—and I would be given strength to deal with my trial.
I experienced the second kind of healing one night following an operation. I remember waking up in extreme pain. Just then this thought entered my mind: “You know that you will get better. You have been promised that your body will be made whole. You know you’re going to get through this.”
On another occasion I woke up in the middle of the night worried about the future. “What is going to happen to me?” I wondered. That panic lasted for a couple of hours, but it was the only time during my three-year battle that I felt such anxiety. The peace from the priesthood blessings I received sustained me and enabled me to get through things I thought I couldn’t endure.
The priesthood continued to strengthen me through a postoperative infection and a serious fever. One night during this time my brother-in-law came to the hospital and gave me a blessing. My temperature had been rising all day, but after the blessing it steadily declined. I was amazed but not surprised.
I saw the promise come to fruition that my doctors would be guided. When I awoke after one of my operations, the surgeon came to see me.
“I was all done,” she explained, “but something told me to go deeper, and I found additional problem areas, which I was able to remove. We’re fortunate to have found them.”
She is not a member of the Church, but the promise of the blessing I had received early on had come to pass. The Spirit had guided her.
I am grateful for the worthy priesthood holders in my ward and family who have reached out to me and used the priesthood to bless my life. I am grateful for their wives who support and sustain them as they honor their priesthood and use it to bless others. Most of all, I am grateful that Heavenly Father has blessed us with His power on earth, a power that blesses all of His children.

In Italy there lives a Brother Luigi Pittino, who, with other European Saints, attended the Munich conference. For 17 years Brother Pittino had met on Sunday with one or two other Saints. They would have an opening prayer, read and discuss the scriptures, and partake of the sacrament. In these last few years they were all in their 70s and 80s. There was loneliness and a feeling of isolation. Imagine the thrill for Brother Pittino to sit with 14,000 other Saints at the Munich conference!

“As an investigator, I came across an old copy of the Book of Mormon that was yellowed and musty with age. Its jacket was stiff, as if it had never been touched,” says Janet Spear of South Glens Falls, New York. “But as I picked it up, I was filled with tremendous joy, and a peaceful feeling of relief washed over me. That day I began to read the Book of Mormon for the very first time. My soul was starving for spiritual food, and I began to feast upon the words.
“The passage cried out to me as I read Alma 13:27: ‘Cast off your sins, and [do] not procrastinate the day of your repentance.’ Driven to my knees, I poured out my soul in prayer. In my heart the Holy Spirit said, ‘This journey has ended. It’s time to begin another.’
“I arranged to have the missionaries teach me the gospel. It was wonderful. I had never known such joy! Since the day I was baptized, the Book of Mormon has been my constant companion. It encourages me, inspires me, and teaches me. Its words have shown me how to live, not simply to exist. I truly experienced a metamorphosis.”

Illustration by Violet Lemay
Sundays were always the same since I came to my new adoptive family when I was younger. Mom did my hair, and I got to wear a pretty dress. Then Mom made sure everyone was ready for church. I loved going to church! My teachers were nice, and the kids in my class were friendly. I loved to learn about Heavenly Father and Jesus. Most of all, I loved the music. Singing songs always made me feel happy.
But one Sunday we sang a song I hadn’t heard before. As the other children sang, “I am a child of God, and He has sent me here, has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear,” I felt sad. My first parents hurt me and my sisters. I started to think that maybe I wasn’t a child of God.
After church I ran to Mom and asked, “Mom, am I a child of God?”
Mom pulled me into her arms and told me that I’ve always been a child of God and that He loves me very much.
With tears running down my face, I asked, “Then why wasn’t I born to parents kind and dear?” Mom said she didn’t know why, but that she and Dad loved me and were glad I was in their family. That made me feel warm and happy inside. I knew what Mom said was true.
Now I love to sing “I Am a Child of God.” I am grateful for my new parents who are kind and dear, and I know that everyone is a child of God.

Diana Vasquez didn’t get a chance to say good-bye to her father. She didn’t know she needed to. When she and her two brothers went to school on June 9, 2007, he seemed fine. But before she got home, he lay down to rest and didn’t wake up.
“It was so unexpected,” says Diana, who was 16 at the time. “At first I couldn’t accept it.”
But when tragedy strikes without warning, as it did in Diana’s family, suddenly things that really matter—like family—become more important.
Fortunately for Diana’s family, being united here and hereafter was something they were already working on. Pulling together when hard times could have pulled them apart has brought peace and happiness in this life and hope that they can be together in the next.
Less than a week before Diana’s father died, he taught a family home evening lesson on being united in keeping their covenants so they could be together forever. “Nobody has tomorrow guaranteed,” he said. “We need to be prepared so that if any one of us dies, we can still be together.”
Diana has learned how working together to keep gospel covenants can bring a family together, and she is grateful she learned before it was too late.
The last thing Diana’s father said to her as she left for school on the day he died was, “Te quiero mucho, Dianita.” (I love you very much, little Diana.)
Diana has confidence in the Lord’s promise that her family can be together again if they will continue to keep their covenants.
“I have seen how Heavenly Father has brought us closer together for following the Savior,” she says. “I have to believe He will also keep His promise that we can be together forever if we keep the commandments.
“I know our families can truly be eternal thanks to the divine plan.
“I know we can realize the eternal glory our Heavenly Father promises. Only by enduring to the end, putting our hearts into the things of God, and helping each other can we achieve our objective to be an eternal family.”

Sister Melbourne was grouchy. There was no other way to describe her. Just the other day I heard her telling the bishop that children took too much time in testimony meeting. I walked out of the chapel feeling very angry.
My anger didn’t last long, however. It was December, and Christmas was in the air. Excitement filled me right up to the top of my head. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh. My family began singing Christmas carols on the way home from church, just to let some of the excitement out.
After dinner Mom and Dad called us together. We all knew what we were going to discuss. Every year, we choose a family in our ward, and we secretly take gifts and food to their house. It is one of our favorite traditions.
When we were all together, Dad said, “It’s time we decide on a family to help this year. Does anyone have a suggestion?”
When none of us said anything, Dad looked at Mom. “Maybe Mom has a suggestion. Sometimes she notices things the rest of us miss.”
Mom smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do know of someone who needs our help. We have always chosen a family with children, but this year I think we should help Sister Melbourne.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! “But, Mom,” I protested, “she’s not poor or sick, and she’s really grouchy. She doesn’t even like kids. I think we should choose someone else.”
“I agree with April,” said my older sister, Beth. “She really is grouchy. It wouldn’t be any fun doing something for her. She might even kick our gifts off her porch. Besides, she seems to have plenty of money.”
I looked at Beth gratefully. Peter spoke up. “She’s always telling me to ‘shush,’ even when I’m being quiet.”
Lynn and Josh didn’t say anything. They were too small to know Sister Melbourne.
“I know Sister Melbourne has enough money to take care of herself,” Mom said. “And I know she isn’t very pleasant to be around, but that’s exactly why I think she needs our help.”
I wasn’t convinced, but I listened as Mom continued, “Sister Melbourne has had an unhappy life. She was divorced before she moved here. She has three children who are married. They have children of their own, but they never come to see her or let her get to know her grandchildren. Perhaps she has done something to make them want to stay away. I don’t know about that, but I do know she is very lonely and unhappy. I think she needs someone to let her know she is loved. April, you weren’t quite right when you said she isn’t poor.”
“You mean she’s poor in love?” I asked.
“Yes, and sometimes it’s much more painful to be poor in love than it is to be poor in money.”
We were all quiet for a few minutes. Then Dad said, “Let’s take a vote. How many of you would like to share Christmas with Sister Melbourne this year?”
Slowly Beth’s hand went up. Lynn and Josh raised theirs. Then Peter raised his. Looking around at everyone, I reluctantly raised mine.
Mom said instead of buying gifts for Sister Melbourne from the store, we should make them. All the next week we cut out paper decorations, strung popcorn and cranberries, and made cookies and candy. We bought apples and oranges to go with the things we had made.
It was Dad’s job to get a box just the right size for our gifts and to decorate it. We carefully arranged everything inside the box and put on the lid. Dad added a huge bow on top.
We gathered around the kitchen table to have a prayer and make our final plans. In the prayer, Dad asked Heavenly Father to soften Sister Melbourne’s heart and help her receive our gift in the spirit of love with which we were giving it. I was comforted by those words, because I remembered that Beth had said Sister Melbourne might kick our gift off the porch. I had visions of cookies, candy, paper decorations, apples, oranges, and strings of popcorn and cranberries strewn all over the ground.
We put on our coats and piled into the car. Since the box was pretty big, we decided Dad would carry it to the porch. After he returned to the car, it would be my job to ring the doorbell and run before Sister Melbourne opened her door.
I could feel my heart pounding with excitement as Dad parked down the street from her house. “April and I will walk to Sister Melbourne’s house,” he said. “The rest of you must be very quiet so you don’t attract attention.” He lifted the box out of the car and motioned for me to follow him.
“Dad,” I said, “I’m afraid Sister Melbourne will catch me and get mad.”
“She’ll never catch you!” He grinned at me. “You’re the fastest runner in our family. But if you’re worried, I’ll wait for you behind those bushes on the far side of her yard. When she’s inside again, we’ll go back to the car together.”
“I’d like that,” I said, smiling gratefully.
Dad carefully set the box on the porch. I waited until he was hidden behind the bushes. Then I ran up the steps, rang the doorbell, and flew across the yard to the bushes, where I crouched down next to Dad. “Good work,” Dad whispered.
The door opened, sending a ray of light across the snow. Sister Melbourne didn’t see the box at first, but as she was about to close the door, she saw it and stopped. She stood there for a second. Then she bent down and read her name on the top. She lifted the lid, and once again she was very still. Finally she picked up the box and looked around the yard. She was smiling, but there were tears running down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she called out. “Thank you, whoever you are.”
Dad and I were quiet for a few moments after she went inside and closed the door. I whispered, “I think she really liked our present, don’t you?”
“Yes, I think she really did.”
The next Sunday as we were coming home from church, we began singing Christmas carols again. When we passed Sister Melbourne’s house, I saw our decorations in her front window, and the popcorn and cranberry strings were on a Christmas tree that hadn’t been there the week before. “I think Sister Melbourne’s getting richer,” I said.
Mom stopped singing long enough to give me a hug and say, “So are we.”

“How many pies are we baking?” Jared asked. He pulled a chair up to the counter to help his mother make the pies.
“A lot—one for Grandpa, one for your baby-sitter, one for Mr. Gomez next door, and pies for lots of other people. It’s my way of thanking them for all they do to help us.”
“And we’re going to deliver them tomorrow, on Thanksgiving?”
“First thing in the morning.”
Jared helped his mother roll out crusts, mix and pour fillings, and pinch the crust edges. Soon the kitchen smelled like pumpkin pies.
“There’s someone else I want to make a thank-you pie for,” Jared said.
“Who?”
“It’s a surprise. Can we make an extra pie?”
“Sure.”
Jared rolled out the crust for another pie while his mother mixed the filling.
In the morning, Jared and his mother carried the pies to the car. She drove very carefully to each house.
“Thank you for everything you do,” Mother said to each person as they delivered the pies.
Finally, there was only one pie left.
“Where do we take your pie, Jared?” Mother asked.
“To the fire station.”
Mother looked surprised, but she turned onto the street that led to the fire station.
“I want to thank the firefighters for being there to help us,” he explained. “They work even on holidays, when most people get to be home with their families.”
“That’s a great idea, Jared.”
He carried the pie into the fire station. The firefighters looked up from polishing their trucks.
“What’s this?” the nearest firefighter asked.
“It’s for you.” Jared handed the pie to the firefighter. “I want to thank all of you for being here on a holiday, ready to help everybody.”
“No one’s ever done this for us before,” the firefighter said. “Thank you. We’ll really enjoy it.”
“I think they liked the pie,” Jared told his mother as they returned to their car.
“Yes, but I think that they liked your idea of thanking them best of all.” Mother hugged him. “And so did I.”
“Let’s go home and bake another pie for us,” Jared suggested.
“I think that’s another great idea!”

Later after the terrifying experience of a wartime Nazi concentration camp, she found herself face to face with one of the S.S. guards.

“It was at a church service in Munich that I saw him, the former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there—the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, [her sister] Betsie’s pain-blanched face.

“He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. ‘How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein,’ he said. ‘To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!’

“His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side.

“Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him.

“I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness.

“As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me.

“And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself” (Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place, New York: Bantam Books, 1971, pp. 44–45, 238).

The three members of The Pretty Ugly Indie Band, brothers Daniel and Joseph Cottam of Doncaster Ward and James Swift of Sheffield 2nd Ward, chose to leave behind their music and a record deal to serve the Lord.
Elder Daniel Cottam, of the Italy Rome Mission, said, “So I’m serving as one of the older missionaries in my group. I’m 22 right now, 20 when I started the mission. That is due to a few reasons. Number one, the band of course; I couldn’t go leaving them alone and miss out on all the fun. Another reason is that I am extremely shy, so a mission for me wasn’t always a guarantee in my mind. I also had very long hair and a beard and didn’t want to give them up; they were very much part of who I was and made me feel different and look cool. But the decision to serve a mission was largely thanks to my family, their wonderful examples and encouragement. Always being in the Church, I suppose I’ve never had a huge conversion experience. All the lessons at Church, things I’d heard from my parents over the years, my own studies and prayers allowed me to really put my trust in the Lord, put the band on hold, have my hair cut and overcome my social awkwardness. A test of faith, but worth it! The mission experience has been amazing! I have learnt and grown so much and come to a true and firm knowledge of the gospel and of my Saviour, so many blessings. If we had stayed as a band putting off the mission, I don’t think the band would have been quite so successful. Now we have met so many people who already love the music we have made and are excited for when we get back, a nice side blessing of building up the fan base all over the world!”
Elder Joseph Cottam, of the Spain Madrid Mission, commented, “I’ve always been fully into music, ever since listening to my iPod Touch and my headphones when I was seven years old. At that age, I started playing the piano a little bit and the guitar, but I started playing the drums when I was 11 years old and that’s when I started rocking. My brother, Dan, and I started to rock the roof off our living room when we started playing the drums and guitar together. We then gathered the band together and played through all our teenage years pretty much every week until we were headlining shows, playing at festivals, winning competitions, and recording music videos. Then the time came when I had to start considering a mission; it was honestly something I had tried to avoid thinking about up to that point. I had a mindset that if we made the band big and rocked the world, we would be the best missionaries in the world. Obviously, God has different ideas to us. After a lot of prayer and thought, I and my brother decided to start with our mission papers. The reason being that I figured out that God knows what is best for us. He has shown us the path to follow, and we just must follow it without trying to compromise or trying to make our own paths. I also had a trust that God would make sure that everything went okay. He knows what means a lot to us in this life and he will cater for our desires if we always put him first. So that’s what I decided to do. Leaving everything behind we worked for was a blow for a while; it was our dream; it was everything we wanted to do but then the quarantine came, and everything stopped. The world was on pause and then I said to myself, “Wow. God does know best; He knew that if we accepted that record deal and continued, we would have been in a massive pickle.” That was the time when I knew for a fact God was guiding us in this.”
Elder James Swift, of England Leeds, Manchester, Scotland/Ireland Service Mission, remarked, “At the time of the first two band members leaving for their missions we had received lots of interest from record labels, managers and agents wanting to get us on their rosters. But the boys knew that it was their time to go and serve, so we turned down all those amazing offers and trusted in the Lord. Leaving my music aspirations behind and leaving university was a difficult decision to make. I won’t lie but I was very reluctant, even frustrated by the fact that this was the time I felt so impressed to go and serve. However, I have been blessed already beyond measure. I’ve been placed in the most perfect mission, with some of the greatest missionaries the Church has to offer. I’m truly grateful for the chance I have had to show my love for the Saviour by making these sacrifices and ultimately devoting myself to His ministry.”

In Canada, it’s quite a feat to receive the Queen’s Venturer award—it’s one of Scouting’s highest honors in the country. Recently Harvey Calfrobe, a member of the Blood tribe in the Province of Alberta, earned that award.
Harvey had some unique challenges. At four he was diagnosed with leukemia, and he spent most of his younger years fighting it. A severe learning disability also made things even tougher. Now Harvey’s leukemia is in remission, and he excels in a vocational school. He loves to ski, swim, bowl, and, of course, scout.
Harvey was baptized three years ago and is now a priest in the Calgary Eighth Ward, Calgary Alberta West Stake.
In a speech given at the Scouting awards ceremony, Harvey said, “I am proud to be in the Venturer program. It produces winners, and we are winners.”

Time moved on, and soon my family moved to New Hampshire. We were no longer part of a large ward or an overflowing stake, but now members of a tiny branch which spread over several small towns. We soon discovered that my sisters and I were the only LDS youth in our town. I really had to cling to what the Church taught. I found myself defending it many times, but in my heart the question still lingered.
Was this what I really believed? I still couldn’t come up with the answer, and the question wouldn’t leave. It just kept getting bigger and more urgent. I had to find out for myself, but I didn’t quite know how to go about it.
The years passed by, and finally graduation was around the corner. It would soon be time to take the next step—serving a mission. Going on a mission seemed to fill every conversation I had with my parents, but the truth was, I didn’t know if I should go. How could I teach people the gospel if I didn’t know for myself if it “I believe because I found out for myself.”
It was time to stop living off of “borrowed light.” I was determined to find out.
I didn’t know where to start, but I decided the Book of Mormon would be a good place. I started to study it, not just read it. I also decided to study it prayerfully. While I was doing this, I realized that I hadn’t been having personal prayers very regularly. I also realized that this was the first time I had honestly studied the scriptures. Maybe the reason I didn’t know if the Church was really true was that I had never prayerfully tried to find out.
I kept a list of questions I had about the Church in the cover of my Book of Mormon. At nights I made an effort to pray about a certain question, and quite often I would find the answer to that very question as I read. This happened too often to be just a coincidence. My prayers were actually being answered, and every time a prayer would be answered, it gave me a deeper incentive to continue in my investigation.
I finished the Book of Mormon and started on the New Testament. I had seen books like A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, and Jesus the Christ sitting on my parents’ bookshelves, and now I had an intense desire to learn what they had to say. I didn’t really read anything that I hadn’t heard before, but for the first time, I understood it. As I continued in my study and prayers, a strong testimony began to grow within me, and sometimes when I prayed, a warm feeling would overcome me entirely. I soon learned that the Holy Ghost was real.
I noticed one night that every question I had written on the list had been crossed out. Although it hadn’t happened all at once, my questions had been answered—every one of them.
Then I realized I knew that the Church was true. I knew it was true, not because my parents had told me it was true, not because the leaders of the Church had told me it was true, but because I had found out for myself.