Gospel Story Finder

Shannon from Utah, USA, shared how her neighbors helped her: “The day we buried our young son, we returned from the cemetery to find our neighborhood had come together in those hours while we were at his funeral to completely re-landscape our yard. They had planted beautiful shrubs, trees, and flowers, and even new sod. In the midst of our unimaginable sadness, their thoughtful demonstration of love and support began the healing process for us. We were reminded that love and life are eternal every year when our beautiful yard came back to life again. [It was] truly a sacred and symbolic experience that we will never forget.”

Just three months after James Boyd Martino joined the Church in 1968, a friend invited him to meet with a minister of another faith. The minister bombarded him with questions, only a few of which he could answer.
Although the experience shook him, 17-year-old James didn’t let the minister deter him—or his commitment to the Church. Rather, he says, “my testimony then was like a prescription medicine that has to be shaken to be effective. The experience motivated me to study the gospel and grow in my faith.”
Elder Martino, recently called as a member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy, says that studying the gospel has blessed him ever since that time.

While in South America, I was touched by the sacrifices made by many of our Saints to have their families sealed to them for eternity. I shed tears of gratitude as I heard some of the experiences recounted.
One of our stake presidents brought his family to the São Paulo Temple from Lima, Peru. It is normally a nine-day bus ride, but, because of bus strikes and other problems, the journey took them fourteen days of travel.
Upon their arrival at São Paulo, the family went to the first session they could, and the sealing ceremony was performed. Then they immediately prepared to leave. The temple president asked them if they were staying the night. The father replied that the family had to leave immediately since they did not have sufficient money for lodging and food. He said that they would have to travel several days without food as it was. That represents the spirit of sacrifice of many of our Saints worldwide.

The two things I remember from the conversation played a huge role in my conversion. When I joined a video call (late) Elder Beam was reading Moroni’s promise (see Moroni 10:3–5). His companion, Elder McIntosh, and he carried a sweet and sacred Spirit which impacted me. I didn’t recognise it at the time (two months would pass before I’d learn to recognise it) but it drew me to them. I wanted to know them; I wanted to know what they had to say.
From then on, I started meeting with them and learning of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, of the Book of Mormon, of the Prophet Joseph Smith. Everything was so foreign to me, but I felt the Spirit every time. I started reading it for myself when (newly transferred in) Elder Baldwin invited me to read the Book of Enos. From there, I couldn’t stop reading. Even though I still didn’t believe it, I couldn’t stop. I knew something was different about the Book of Mormon. I thought about it constantly. It strengthened my faith in a loving God.
Over the next few months, I did a deep dive into researching the Church of Jesus Christ, the positives and negatives. In doing so, in meeting the missionaries and following through on the commitments I made, in praying, in reading the Book of Mormon alongside the Bible, every single question I had was answered fully. The biggest questions such as the nature of God (I was never fully satisfied with descriptions of a triune God) were answered. The smallest questions I had were answered just the same. It was a miracle.
When I was finally blessed with the foundations of a testimony in this great latter-day work, it was not yet the end of my journey to baptism. Why? Because I was aware I would have to sacrifice many friendships and relationships I’d had with people my entire life. I knew there were people who meant a great deal to me who would never want anything to do with me again — and they didn’t. I had spiritual leaders in my life tell me I was turning my back on Jesus Christ and what He’d done for me. More than anything else, that hurt me deeply. I investigated and learned more of the Church because I love my Saviour so much. If I didn’t love and believe the Bible as much as I did, or have the foundations I had, I would never have believed the Book of Mormon.
A few weeks later, I realised something: Jesus Christ walked the walk to Calvary for me, the least I could do is walk the walk to the baptism font, and beyond, even if I had to do so alone, without the friends I’d had for decades. I did so. Every sacrifice I made to join the Church of my Lord Jesus Christ was far outweighed by the bounteous and sacred blessings He gave me.
It was a long journey which took very close to 10 months. But the walk through the valley took me to the truth, to the temple, to my beautiful wife, and closer to my Saviour, Jesus Christ.
I know this is His Church. I know He is the Saviour and Redeemer of mankind. I know God is our loving Heavenly Father. I know we can come closer to them by reading the scriptures. I know we can be blessed and come closer to them by living the covenants we make in the font and in the holy temple. This is the true Church of Jesus Christ.

We have a sweet humble TVA friend, Ed, whose work supervisor in Honolulu seemed to actually hate him and took delight in tormenting him. The man relished in extreme ways every chance to ridicule and humiliate and make Ed's life miserable. Instead of bitter feelings or retaliation, Ed forgave the man. Later Ed said something very interesting to us. "I realize that there are very few people in the world who are given the opportunity to be kind and merciful to someone who really hates them." Ed now has a new and kinder boss.

A couple of years ago Benjamin started a hobby. “I was at my friend’s once,” he said, “and he happened to mention stamps. When I got home that night, I thought, stamps could make a quite good collection, because all I had been doing in my spare time was think or watch the telly.” Benjamin collects stamps from Great Britain mainly, but also from America, Canada, and Australia. “I realized that it’s too hard to collect stamps from every country,” he said.

A few years ago I listened as a widow spoke in fast and testimony meeting. She told how she had lost her husband a year earlier. “He was a good man,” she said, adding, “I lived in his shadow.” Now that he was gone, she said she had to develop qualities in herself that were dormant during her husband’s lifetime. She expressed appreciation for that opportunity. Some might not understand that expression, but I do. I heard my own mother express a similar thought about the effect on her of losing her husband—my father—after only eleven years of marriage. To carry this point to an even more personal level, I know it was a blessing to be raised by a widowed mother whose children had to learn how to work, early and hard. As promised in the scriptures, the Lord consecrated her affliction for her gain and for the blessing of her children.

A friend of mine had planned on going on a mission but was having doubts. I shared with him my feelings about missions, the great importance of them. I then bore my testimony of my great love for the gospel and for Heavenly Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. It must have made my friend think. He is now planning for his mission. He has already submitted his papers.
My advice to you is to wait for the right moment to discuss this with him. If you’re afraid of being too pushy, take it one step at a time. If you don’t know the right things to say, ask Heavenly Father to help you.
Kaylene Miller, 15Magna, Utah

Service is the gospel of Jesus Christ in action, and it’s evident in a story I love about Brigham Young. Upon learning that hundreds of handcart pioneers were stranded on the plains in unbearable conditions, he taught with power in this simple sermon at the October 1856 general conference: “I will now give this people the subject and the text for the Elders who may speak, … it is this, … many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with hand-carts, and probably many are now 700 miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. The text will be, ‘to get them here.’ …

“That is my religion; that is the dictation of the Holy Ghost that I possess, it is to save the people. …

“I shall call upon the Bishops this day, I shall not wait until to-morrow, nor until next day, for 60 good mule teams and 12 or 15 wagons. I do not want to send oxen, I want good horses and mules. They are in this Territory, and we must have them; also 12 tons of flour and 40 good teamsters, besides those that drive the teams. …

“I will tell you all that your faith, religion, and profession of religion, will never save one soul of you in the celestial kingdom of our God, unless you carry out just such principles as I am now teaching you. Go and bring in those people now on the plains.”2

A boy I knew had been sent, at great sacrifice by his parents, to a university to acquire an education. He went with little aspiration or desire to succeed, seeking instead to have a “good time.” Shortly after he arrived, he became involved in a case of petty theft, “just for the excitement,” he said later. He was caught and put on probation. But when his search for good times exhausted the limited resources provided by his parents, in desperation he tried to steal a large sum of money—and was caught again. This time he went to the state prison.
His bishop, knowing that I would be traveling in the vicinity of the prison, asked if I would visit the young man. I was a stake president at the time, so I took a member of the stake high council with me. The large gate swung shut behind us, a guard searched us carefully, and then we were ushered into a small concrete building where those from the outside were allowed to spend time visiting with inmates.
I had in my mind a picture of a hardened criminal—mean, surly, dangerous, someone to be feared. Then the door opened, and one of the most handsome young men I had ever seen stepped into the room—neat, clean-shaven, hair nicely combed. He smiled at me in recognition and offered his hand in greeting. “President, what are you doing here? You have probably never seen me, but I heard you speak once at a stake conference,” he explained, then asked earnestly, “How is my family?”
After I reassured him about his parents, we talked about him: how soon he would be released and how he was being treated. He seemed in good spirits and cheerful despite the bleak surroundings. As we visited, I asked him if he had really done all the things he was accused of. His reply was prompt and direct: “Yes, and more. I deserve all of this.” The motion of his hand took in the confining room and its surroundings. “I have lost nearly everything—my self-respect, my friends, the confidence of my family—almost everything.” His chin quivered and his face became anguished. He broke down crying. Sobs shook his body, and I tried to comfort him.
When he regained his composure, we continued our visit. It proved to be a marvelous moment to teach him; he was humble and eager to learn. We talked about faith, repentance, and the divine mission of our Savior, Jesus Christ. I reminded the young man that Christ gave His own sweet life in holy sacrifice as payment for the sins of those who repent and obey. The Spirit touched each of us during those moments together. My young friend was contrite, filled with hope and a greater understanding of God’s love.
On the morning of his release from prison, a loving father and mother embraced their son and welcomed him to a new life. They visited at our home. The son was repentant and eager to start anew. He expressed his great love for the Savior and his gratitude for the opportunity to progress through blessings offered in the Church. I assured him of my respect, my confidence, and my love for him.
Over a period of several years, I received occasional telephone calls from him advising me of his progress. He was doing well. He had worked through the repentance process with his bishop and the Lord. There were still difficulties and obstacles to overcome, but his progress was steady. The call that touched me most was the one in which he told me that he would be taking a young woman to the house of the Lord to be married. He had come full circle, from wickedness and despair to righteousness and joy. The Spirit of the Lord had led him to the Living Waters, and he had drunk deeply.

I first met Kim Hye Gook in November 1989 while serving as a missionary in Suwon, South Korea, about thirty kilometers south of Seoul. She was referred to the sister missionaries by Brice Womack, an American soldier stationed in Songtan, some distance away. The missionaries in my zone visited the orphanage where Miss Kim worked. We were impressed with the patience, love, and care she gave each of the children.
At about the same time, we met Pak Hyang Gook while talking with people on the streets in Suwon. A short time later we began teaching her the missionary discussions.
Both of these investigators completed the discussions, developed strong testimonies, and decided to be baptized. The date was set for Sunday, 24 January 1990. We made all of the usual preparations for baptism and met with the meetinghouse custodian and bishop to make sure the details were all settled. Everything seemed to be in order.
The day finally came, and it was very cold, as Korean winter days tend to be. After Sunday School opening exercises, I thought to ask the custodian if hot water would be available from the taps. That’s when he told us the furnace had broken and we wouldn’t be able to perform the baptism.
We were shocked. Some of Miss Kim’s friends had come all the way from Songtan to attend the service. Also, three investigators from the Osan Branch (fifteen kilometers away) were to be baptized at the same service. The whole Osan Branch was planning to attend.
Sister Gu Jean Jaw (a sister missionary) and I tried to remedy the situation. We took apart the furnace and found a fuse that was burned out. We replaced it with an automotive fuse that seemed compatible, then put it all back together.
At first we were elated to find that it worked. But our excitement was to be short-lived. It soon became apparent that no water would flow from the furnace up to the baptismal font. The reason: the water in the pipes had frozen solid. We tried for three hours to thaw the pipes by pouring boiling water over them. It didn’t work. We also tried to find a welder, hoping to heat the pipes and thaw the ice inside. But no one who had a welder was willing to let us use it.
By now it was 2:00 P.M., time for the baptism to begin. The Osan branch president and members had arrived. Sister Gu Jean Jaw called every mogyoktang (bath house) in Suwon to see if we could perform the baptisms there, but none of them would accommodate us.
I talked to Miss Kim. She was disappointed. She said that she had prayed and knew that she was to be baptized. She had set a goal with the sister missionaries to be baptized on this day. She pulled out the Book of Mormon that the sisters had given her when she started the discussions and opened it to the picture of Alma baptizing a girl in the Waters of Mormon. She asked, "Is it possible for me to be baptized in a river or lake?" Voices blurted out that it was impossible, that everything outside was frozen over, that it was too cold.
The bishop called us into his office to decide what should be done. We agreed that the girls themselves should decide when and where they would be baptized. The bishop called them into his office. He said he knew where a lake was, but warned that it would take a long bus ride, followed by a twenty-minute walk, to get to a secluded cove where the baptism could take place.
The room was quiet for a long time. Then Miss Kim spoke. She repeated that she had accepted the gospel and had agreed to be baptized on this day. She believed that if she did her part, the Lord would do his. And if doing her part meant being baptized in an icy lake, then she was willing.
We began preparations for the lake baptism. Elders Forbes and Miner ran home to get blankets. The two investigators changed into baptismal clothes; my companion, Elder Parker, and I did the same. We held the baptismal service at the Church meetinghouse, then climbed on a bus for the ride to the lake. When we arrived, we saw a large group of people ice skating. We knew the ice had to be very thick.
The bishop had gone on ahead in his truck and was already on the other side of the lake. When we reached him, he was futilely trying to break a hole in the ice with a large rock. My companion and I hiked to a little house on the edge of the lake and knocked on the door. A middle-aged man appeared at the door, dressed in a purple hanbok, the traditional Korean dress. I explained in Korean that we needed to cut a hole in the ice. He hurried into the house and returned with an old axe head fastened onto a homemade stick handle. He didn’t even ask us to return it, just smiled and closed the door.
We returned to the lake and cut a small hole in the ice, then tested the depth with a stick. It was too shallow for a baptism. We cut many small holes, testing the depth of the water each time. Finally we found a place where the water was the right depth.
It took another hour to cut a trough big enough in which to perform the baptism. The homemade handle on the axe broke once, but we caught the head before it sunk. The ice was 30cm. Thick. Most of the chunks we cut off were just too big to lift out, so we slid them under the ice on either side of the merging hole.
Finally, Elder Parker baptized Sister Pak, and I baptized Sister Kim in that frozen lake. By now it was late. The ice skaters had all gone home. The sky was clear and the air bitter cold. Yet I remember thinking, as I slid out of the hole back onto the ice, that, amazingly, I didn’t feel cold. Sister Kim had the same experience.
We huddled together to have a closing prayer, after which we bundled in blankets and headed toward the bus stop. The baptized sisters went to the bishop’s house to change clothes, while the other elders and I went home. At 8:30 P.M. we all met at the bishop’s house for dinner. The bishop felt strongly that these two girls should be confirmed right there and then, so we complied.
During and after the confirmation prayers, the room was filled with a sweet feeling of peace. I can’t begin to describe it. I truly believe that for some reason it was important for those girls to be baptized and confirmed that cold, icy day. Their faith and courage typify the attitude of the humble members of the Church in South Korea.

I felt utterly alone and trapped in my chemical dependency. Feeling extremely sick in my head, heart, and body, I felt on the verge of death many times. I had given up all hope that I would ever be free from the chains of addiction and depression that weighed me down.
One day I was at a crossroads; I had to decide whether or not I was going to fall further into this life of addiction and try to survive living on the streets. But I knew that decision would surely lead to my death. I knew that if I didn’t choose that option, then I needed to turn my life around and return to Jesus Christ.
I found myself sitting in my truck, absolutely consumed with a debilitating fear. With my phone in my hand, I stared at my dad’s contact information. I was so soul-sick and heavy of heart that I lacked the energy to even vocalize words. I felt that if I made the call and asked for help then I would be choosing life and that if I didn’t make the call I would surely be choosing death and damnation.
It took me over an hour to muster up enough courage to finally call my dad and ask if I could come over. When I got there, my parents and I had a lengthy discussion after which my dad offered to give me a priesthood blessing.
I accepted the offer and sat down, feeling truly humble and sincerely penitent. I exercised my faith in the power of God and His priesthood. I truly sought my Heavenly Father’s help. During the blessing, my thoughts turned to Him, pleading that He would bless me with strength and power as I tried to overcome this addiction. “Please, I don’t want to live like this anymore,” I prayed silently. “Please help me climb out of this hole that I’m in. Please help me because I can’t do it on my own.”
My dad’s hands were trembling as he spoke with power and conviction while administering the priesthood blessing. He said that Satan was working hard on me to keep me from my great potential. I felt that my decisions were also keeping me from blessing and uplifting others who could benefit from me setting a righteous example and influence. The blessing also repeatedly reminded me that I have the opportunity to overcome my addictions.
I knew there is no sin I’ve committed that I cannot come back from. As President Boyd K. Packer (1924–2015) taught:
“I know of no sins connected with the moral standard for which we cannot be forgiven. … The formula is stated in forty words:
“‘Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.
By this ye may know if a man repenteth of his sins—behold, he will confess them and forsake them’ Doctrine and Covenants 58:42–43].”1
In the blessing my dad gave me, I was also blessed with power and strength to overcome my afflictions. I know my dad was truly inspired and was speaking with the authority of God.
When the blessing was over, I stood and embraced my father. We held each other, hugging for a long time. My mom joined in by putting her arms around both of us as I sobbed and sobbed into my dad’s shoulder, feeling such an overwhelming abundance of love and gratitude in my heart.
All of my feelings of hopelessness melted away. I began to feel the physical cravings of addiction and the heavy cloud of depression and inadequacy that had plagued me for so long wash away. I instantly felt a newfound gusto and enthusiasm for life and for all the possibilities for joy that I might have if I choose what is right and submit to the will of my Heavenly Father. I wanted to live with the attitude that Jesus Christ exemplified in all things: “Not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42).
I moved forward on my path toward Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ with renewed determination and strength.

One older brother taught me an important lesson when I was five years old. That was when my twin, Karl, and I received a puppy. We did not understand the responsibilities that come with having a pet—we thought it was just another toy that didn’t require any particular care. We didn’t worry too much about giving the dog food or water or taking care of it. But we had an older brother who felt just the opposite. He had a great love for animals. He saw the need and took care of our puppy.
That dog grew up thinking that it belonged to our brother, and we used to argue about whose dog it was. Karl and I insisted that it was our dog, and we had contests with our older brother to see whom the dog would go to if we called to it. The dog always went to our brother.
The dog understood loyalty and the love our brother showed it. This experience taught me a powerful lesson about the law of the harvest, which tells us that as you sow, so shall you reap. My brother planted love when he took care of our dog, and he reaped the rewards of trust and loyalty.

Prepare because opportunities and challenges arrive unexpectedly. Let me give you an example. I had been here in Hawaii for less than six months when Hema approached me and asked me to run for office with him. I told him no since I would be leaving for the summer. I asked for guidance from my family and friends and then when Hema approached me again, I agreed to run for office. So many people doubted us, but we were soon elected and are now where we stand today. This position has forced me to grow and understand so much more while taking on huge responsibilities and challenges. I am only twenty years old and I am here speaking to you and serving you. God works in mysterious and powerful ways. He believed in me when it seemed I could not believe in myself because he knew I can do so much. What I have sacrificed and what I have endured has made me a better and stronger person. I too struggle and do my best, but I fail at times because I am human. However, I am doing my best and I have seen the Lord pour out his blessings upon me because He knows I am trying.

Three summers ago, I watched a new bride and groom, Tracy and Tom, emerge from a sacred temple. They laughed and held hands as family and friends gathered to take pictures. I saw happiness and promise in their faces as they greeted their reception guests, who celebrated publicly the creation of a new family. I wondered that night how long it would be until these two faced the opposition that tests every marriage. Only then would they discover whether their marriage was based on a contract or a covenant.
Before their marriage, Tom and Tracy received an eternal perspective on covenants and wolves. They learned through the story of Adam and Eve about life’s purpose and how to return to God’s presence through obedience and the Atonement. Christ’s life is the story of giving the Atonement. The life of Adam and Eve is the story of receiving the Atonement, which empowered them to overcome their separation from God and all opposition until they were eternally “at one” with the Lord and with each other.
Still, the ground was cursed for their sake: their path of affliction also led to the joy of both redemption and comprehension. That is why the husband and wife in a covenant marriage sustain and lift each other when the wolf comes. If Tom and Tracy had understood all this, perhaps they would have walked more slowly from the gardenlike temple grounds, like Adam and Eve, arm in arm, into a harsh and lonely world.
Now I return to Tom and Tracy, who this year discovered wellsprings of their own. Their second baby threatened to come too early to live. They might have made a hireling’s convenient choice and gone on with their lives, letting a miscarriage occur. But because they tried to observe their covenants by sacrifice, active, energetic Tracy lay almost motionless at home for five weeks, then in a hospital bed for another five. Tom was with her virtually every hour when he was not working or sleeping. They prayed their child to earth. Then the baby required 11 more weeks in the hospital. But she is here, and she is theirs.
One night as Tracy waited patiently upon the Lord in the hospital, she sensed that perhaps her willingness to sacrifice herself for her baby was in some small way like the Good Shepherd’s sacrifice for her. She said, “I had expected that trying to give so much would be really difficult, but somehow this felt more like a privilege.” As many other parents in Zion have done, she and Tom gave their hearts to God by giving them to their child. In the process, they learned that theirs is a covenant marriage, one that binds them to each other and to the Lord.

The door bell rang. It was late at night. We did not expect anyone that evening, and I was wondering who it could be. I opened the door, and to my amazement, there stood the two missionaries who were teaching in the neighborhood.
The elders asked quickly if my boys were available so they could ask them a question. They were not. This was the time for them to be in bed for they were only 14 and 15 years old. The missionaries looked at each other, and the senior companion, obviously gathering his courage, asked me if I would talk to my boys and tell them to behave well at school because they were teaching one of the boys’ schoolmates. It was important that they, the missionaries, be able to tell their young investigator that my boys were members of the Church and then ask her if she had noticed any difference! What a terrible thing it might have been if my boys had not been behaving well! I promised the missionaries that I would forward the message and discuss the challenge with my boys.
The elders left, reassured, and as I closed the door, a scripture came flashing through my mind. I had used it often in the past years in meeting with the missionaries. “Go forth … that ye may show forth good examples unto them in me, and I will make an instrument of thee in my hands unto the salvation of many souls.” (Alma 17:11.)

No, the youth from the Muncie Indiana Stake were not taken over by aliens; they were taken over by compassion as they volunteered to help the Habitat for Humanity assist the needy in Muncie.
More than 100 young people came out for a Super Saturday to paint, dig trenches for sewer lines, put up aluminum siding, and install insulation in new homes. These youth, along with other individuals from the community, put in an accumulated total of 1,000 man-hours to provide this service.
One 12-year-old said, “It felt good helping out with this project and knowing someone would be able to enjoy this home and have the comforts which I enjoy every day.”

To the third and final question, “What prompts such devotion on the part of every worker?” the answer can be stated simply: An individual testimony of the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, even a heartfelt desire to love the Lord with all one’s heart, mind, and soul, and one’s neighbor as oneself.

This is what motivated a personal friend, now deceased, who was in the produce business, to telephone me during those days as a bishop and say, “I’m sending to the storehouse a semi-truck and trailer filled with citrus fruits for those who would otherwise go without. Let the storehouse management know the truck is coming, and there will be no charge; but Bishop, no one is to know who sent it.” Rarely have I seen the joy and appreciation this generous act brought forth. Never have I questioned the eternal reward to which that unnamed benefactor has now gone.

Such kind deeds of generosity are not a rarity, but are frequently found. Situated beneath the heavily traveled freeway which girds Salt Lake City is the home of a sixty-year-old single man who has, due to a crippling disease, never known a day without pain nor many days without loneliness. One winter’s day as I visited him, he was slow in answering the doorbell’s ring. I entered his well-kept home; the temperature in save but one room, the kitchen, was a chilly 40 degrees. The reason: not sufficient money to heat any other room. The walls needed papering, the ceilings to be lowered, the cupboards filled.

Troubled by the experience of visiting my friend, a bishop was consulted and a miracle of love, prompted by testimony, took place. The ward members were organized and the labor of love begun. A month later, my friend Lou called and asked if I would come and see what had happened to him. I did, and indeed beheld a miracle. The sidewalks which had been uprooted by large poplar trees had been replaced, the porch of the home rebuilt, a new door with glistening hardware installed, the ceilings lowered, the walls papered, the woodwork painted, the roof replaced, and the cupboards filled. No longer was the home chilly and uninviting. It now seemed to whisper a warm welcome. Lou saved until last showing me his pride and joy: there on his bed was a beautiful plaid quilt bearing the crest of his McDonald family clan. It had been made with loving care by the women of the Relief Society. Before leaving, I discovered that each week the Young Adults would bring in a hot dinner and share a home evening. Warmth had replaced the cold; repairs had transformed the wear of years; but more significantly, hope had dispelled despair and now love reigned triumphant.

All who participated in this moving drama of real life had discovered a new and personal appreciation of the Master’s teaching, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (Acts 20:35.)

Eight-year-old Annie spent a night at her friend’s house. When they finally settled down, their conversation turned to serious things. Were the scriptures true? They each asked Heavenly Father in their prayers and felt a strong witness from the Spirit that, yes, the scriptures are true. The next day Annie told her mother about that witness of the Spirit and made a commitment to start regular scripture study.

Many times, teachers and friends told Spencer that he would not get very far drawing, but he knew that his talent was a gift from God and that he should not hide it. He continued drawing with the support of his family. Spencer said, “When I draw, I really like listening to music. I am a rock fan and a donut fan too. My favorite superhero is Spiderman, and when I saw him on television, I wanted to draw him. That’s how I began to develop my talent.”