Gospel Story Finder

1. One winter night Alaura awoke from a bad dream.
2. She looked out the window that was next to her bed. Something was moving back and forth, scratching the window. She was scared and began to cry.
3. Her dad heard her crying. He came and knelt beside her bed. “I had a bad dream, and there’s something scary scratching my window,” Alaura said.
4. “What you are hearing is only tree branches swaying in the wind,” Dad said. “There is nothing scary.” Alaura was still afraid and couldn’t stop crying.
5. “Heavenly Father is watching over you. Why don’t you say a prayer asking Him for help?” Dad said.
6. Alaura knelt beside her bed and prayed to Heavenly Father. She told Him how frightened she was. Then she asked Him to help her not be afraid anymore.
7. She felt a very calm feeling. Through the power of the Holy Ghost, Heavenly Father had made her feel safe. She knew He was watching over her. Alaura got back in bed. Dad tucked her in, and she went to sleep.

Recently the Miller family participated in a ward program that helps new converts learn more about the gospel by attending group family home evenings. Angela and her father, Dan, taught a lesson about putting on the whole armor of God, based on Doctrine and Covenants 27:15–18. As her father taught that each part of the armor represents a quality that will help guard against temptation—such as the shield of faith and the sword of the Spirit—Angela added that piece to her costume. Everyone’s favorite part of the lesson was when Brother Miller taught about the fiery darts of the adversary, and the missionaries got to throw “fiery darts” made out of yellow paper and popcorn kernels at Angela’s “armor.”

I stammered and stuttered during my growing-up years. In school, I would never be involved in anything that required more than a minimum of speaking. My parents sent me to speech teachers and therapists, but they couldn’t correct my problem. However, just before my father became ill, I received my patriarchal blessing. It said, in part, “Lloyd, you have problems. Know this—the Lord loves you and wants you to be happy. I bless you that you shall go out into the world and preach the gospel with force to a waiting world.” Because of this blessing, I accepted a call to the Southern States Mission.
The first month of my mission was terrible. I had never administered the sacrament or given a talk. My companion had me talk to one lady at her door, and I stuttered and stammered terribly. After a month of not making any improvement, I prayed, “Lord, now is the time. If I don’t have relief from this affliction, the mission president will send me home. Lord, it has to be now!”
Gradually I was able to speak more fluently. After six months I went back to some elderly sisters that we had taught, and I really gave them and some others what I thought was my best talk. Afterward, with tears in their eyes, some of them came up to me and said, “The Lord has really blessed you.” After that experience, I learned about the real power of prayer.

When I was 14 or 15 years old, I worked for my father in the family dry cleaning business during what free time I had. That summer, business was slow. So I said, “OK, I want to read the entire Book of Mormon—from the first page to the last.” And I did. The reading excited me.
In the edition of the Book of Mormon I had, Moroni’s promise was printed on one of the opening pages. That promise struck me. If someone read the book and then asked God, He would answer (see Moro. 10:3–5). I had heard the promise before, but in that moment the Holy Ghost impressed it upon my heart.
After finishing the last page of the book, I knelt in a small private room at work and prayed to Heavenly Father. And through the Holy Ghost I received the testimony I sought. From the tip of my toes to the last hair on my head, I felt that the Book of Mormon was the word of God and that Joseph Smith was a prophet.

In September 1830, Newel Knight and his sister Anna’s husband, Freeborn DeMille, attended the Church’s second conference, held at Fayette, New York.11 Newel was ordained a priest, and Freeborn was baptized.

At Fayette, Newel Knight became the young prophet’s confidant during a crisis caused by Hiram Page’s claim of receiving revelations for the Church through a peepstone. Newel wrote that Hiram Page carried “quite a roll of papers full of these revelations,” which led many astray. Joseph Smith “was perplexed and scarcely knew how to meet this new exigency.” Sharing the same room, the two friends spent the greater part of the night in prayer. In response, Joseph received a revelation (see D&C 28) that spelled out the proper channels for revelation to reach the Church. Newel reported, “Brother Page and all … present renounced the stone, … much to our joy and satisfaction.”

Later on I became a student in college, and I found that some of the things I believed in and felt I knew to be true were regarded as ridiculous and immature by some of my professors. They believed in things totally foreign to the beliefs I had been taught from my earliest childhood. They ridiculed my belief in God as simply superstitious nonsense. They made fun of the Book of Mormon. They laughed at the concept of Joseph Smith being a prophet. They refused to believe the Bible was anything more than literature. I felt crushed.
To me these were learned men. They held doctor’s degrees from great universities. They were well-read. They seemed to have answers and proofs for everything they taught. I was merely a student, and they were professors with years of schooling, research knowledge, and experience. To say that I was impressed is perhaps an understatement. My faith and my beliefs were shaken, and I teetered on the edge of an abyss of indecision. What should I accept as truth? Should I accept the teachings of these learned men, or should I retain my belief in what I had been taught by my parents, my Sunday School, Primary, religion class, and priesthood teachers and had learned through my own experiences?
Those teachers who would have led me to reject God and my religious ideals were not always happy men. Some were disillusioned and some were bitter. Fortunately I made my decision to stand for what I felt was truth. To one professor who was particularly sarcastic toward my religious concepts I simply stated, “Doctor, I refuse to believe you! I will answer your examination questions the way you want me to, but I want you to know that unlearned as I am, one thing I do know is that God lives. I believe in him with all my heart. I will listen to your teachings, but I refuse to change my beliefs or my faith.” He just looked at me and shook his head. But I had been a missionary and could not deny those things I felt deep within my heart to be true. I could not prove them to him, but I believed them and they gave me both hope and comfort.

One summer I reached the conclusion I was too old and too cool for family vacations. “No way,” I said when my parents suggested we begin planning our annual outing. “I have to work.” Like the local burger place couldn’t function without my eight hours a week.

For 16 years my family had taken summer vacations together. Even when money was tight we hitched up the tent trailer and rambled somewhere. I think Mom and Dad knew that if they got me in the station wagon, and out onto the highway, I’d soften and remember the good times. They suggested I give the family vacation one last try, and after much complaining I finally consented and got the time off work. A few days later we pulled into the freeway traffic and in a moment all that was good about our trips came back to me. Somewhere down the road, through many years of trips, we had learned how to make a vacation fun.

Though I can’t even remember where we went during our 16th summer vacation, I can vividly recall the feeling of closeness we all shared. That trip actually helped me overcome the irrational fear of being seen with my family. Once the station wagon started rolling, the people I sat with and the things we did together made me forget about appearances. And after a while I realized my family were all pretty cool themselves.

One Sunday I noticed a little girl my age in sacrament meeting. She was new and seemed scared to go to Primary. I decided to ask her to come with me to Primary and be my friend. After church the little girl’s aunt told my parents that her niece was so happy to go to Primary with her new friend. I tried to be like Jesus by being a good friend and helping someone in need.
Reagan V., age 5, Colorado, USA

During middle school and high school I experienced wonderful and difficult years at the same time, because during adolescence a young person wants support from her parents. It wasn’t easy to be the only member of the Church at home when my parents did things that were at odds with the Church’s teachings. But I remembered what Nephi said, “If ye shall … endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life” (2 Ne. 31:20).
Years later my younger siblings were baptized, but my parents were not. The missionaries talked to them, but they did not want to be baptized. Their decision saddened me, but I knew I had set a good example.
When I was 16 I traveled to the temple in Orlando, Florida, and it was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. I went by myself and was able to be baptized for my ancestors. Two years later, when I received my Young Womanhood Recognition, my joy could not be contained. I felt that our Heavenly Father was pleased with me.
When President Gordon B. Hinckley visited our beautiful island of Puerto Rico and spoke to the members, I had the privilege of singing in the choir. He urged us to go to the temple on the neighboring island of the Dominican Republic. I did, and in that temple I made a firm decision that I would be married for eternity to a returned missionary.
I reached this goal when I found a worthy priesthood holder who is a returned missionary. We were sealed in the Dominican Republic temple for time and eternity. We now have a baby boy, and I am serving in the stake Young Women presidency. My parents are still not members, but I am pleased with the example I have given them. I try to build on the good in my parents while forgetting their imperfections.
I know I belong to the true Church and that Jesus Christ is my Savior. My dream, which I pray for, is to be sealed someday to my parents and siblings. I love this gospel that has given me so much joy and hope in my life.

Eight years after his baptism, Luciano was called as president of the Lingayen stake. Like most Philippine Church leaders, President de Guzmán has no car, no phone, and limited money for public transportation. He does have a bicycle. And at age fifty-nine, he rides it to his meetings and assignments—up to three hours round-trip. He carries a sack lunch with him because, he says, “I don’t want to impose on members for lunch.”

Pedaling on congested Philippine highways can be dangerous. But, says President de Guzmán, “As I am working in the Lord’s service, he protects me.” One time, a bus was overtaking a jeepney, and the president—on his bicycle—was caught in the middle. “Everyone thought I was going to be killed,” he says. “But then, it was as if a great wind lifted me up and swept me out of the way of the bus. The bicycle was not destroyed, and I was not hurt. The people were surprised when they saw me alive. I was surprised, too!”

At three in the morning, Beverly and Amber Williams, of McCammon, Idaho, are usually asleep. But July 1, 1996, wasn’t a typical morning for these teenage sisters. Instead of sleeping, they were rushing their mom, Effie, to the hospital in nearby Soda Springs. About four hours later, their mom delivered a healthy baby boy. She named him David, after her husband and the girls’ father, who was killed not long before in an industrial accident.
“We wanted to be there with my mom,” says 16-year-old Beverly, “and to be with a brand-new baby who just came from where my dad is.”
The girls stayed by their mom’s side through the delivery and probably would have stayed at the hospital much longer if it weren’t for one small problem: most of the baby clothes Effie had purchased were pink, for a girl. So Beverly and Amber hopped in the car and drove more than an hour to Pocatello to exchange the clothes. They also used their personal savings to buy a dresser for their new baby brother. They put the clothes and dresser in his room at home before returning to the hospital. Oh, and Beverly mowed the lawn first too. After all, Monday had always been the day that Effie mowed the lawn. Beverly knew her mom wouldn’t be up to it.

I was called to Central America. After several months in the mission field, I realized what a blessing had come to me in that call. While I was helping to find people who loved the Lord, I was also walking in places where much of the Book of Mormon may have happened. This was a second witness to the testimony of my grandfather, who had learned to love the Book of Mormon the first time he got his hands on one in the 1920s. His father was a salesman and trader who traveled widely in Mexico. My great-grandfather had told his children stories of ruined cities and highways in the jungle, and my grandfather had always wanted to know who the people were who built them.

Since my mission, I have had the opportunity to visit many of those ruined cities in Mexico and Central America. I have read what experts say about those places and about the history and greatness of their people. I am very grateful for the added knowledge I have received.

But I have never been more sure of the Book of Mormon than I was that day when I asked the Lord if it was true and He answered me just as Moroni promised. I only wish I had asked sooner. My Heavenly Father wanted me to know the truth for myself all along, and I might have been able to share it with my friend.

Out of all the blessings that Merci has received, there is one in particular that stands out to her: “I lost my mother at 15. With her passing came a lot of questions. However, these questions and the subsequent answers to them have completely shaped my life.” Through honest prayer, Merci has been able to receive comfort that she will be able to one day give her mother the same type of hugs her mother gave her as a little girl. “The truth of the gospel illuminates my everyday life and activities,” she says. “I know I am connected to the divine love of God, and that fulfills me in every way.”

For a combined Mutual activity one Wednesday night, our youth leaders had prepared a service project with a fun twist. They divided the youth into four teams of about eight people. They gave everyone a sheet of paper with a list of service ideas we could do for people in our ward boundaries. The game was to get points by doing service. For example, washing a person’s car was worth 20 points, vacuuming a living room was worth 15 points, and so on. Everybody needed to be back to the church at a certain time. If a team was late, they lost all of their points.
Being very competitive by nature, I figured my team could get four times as much accomplished if we worked in pairs. I told the other three pairs to make sure they got back to the church on time so we would not get penalized. I paired myself up with a deacon, and we headed off to his neighborhood.
We were efficient and really racking up the points. With 10 minutes left, we stopped at a widow’s house. She was not a member of the Church but was a neighbor of the young man I was teamed up with. She was in her backyard trying to pull weeds along a canal bank. When we asked her if she needed help, she gladly let us help. Pulling weeds just happened to be on our list and was worth quite a few points!
We tried to hurry because we were racing the clock. If we came back to the church late, we would forfeit all the points our team had earned.
I will never forget what took place that night in a widow’s backyard while engaged in a service activity for Mutual. The deacon and I looked at each other, and one of us said, “If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it back in time.”
He could see in my eyes that I wanted to stay, and I could see in his eyes that he wanted to stay. So we stayed and helped with the weeding. It took us about a half hour to finish the job.
As we walked back to the church, we talked about how good we felt inside. We also talked about how appreciative the woman was for our efforts.
When we entered the church, members of our team were mad at us because we didn’t come back on time. The team that had tallied up the most points was beginning to rub it in about their victory. Our leaders asked us why we were so late, and we told them what had happened. They gathered everybody around and told our story. Then they told us we were the real winners.
But we had already earned our prize in the widow’s backyard. That experience gave me a greater appreciation for serving others and still influences my life today. I am ever grateful for those Mutual leaders who helped two young men gain a testimony of serving others.

Sheila sat on her front porch, waiting for the yellow bus to bring her younger brother, Danny, home from school. He liked her to be waiting for him, and he always greeted her with a sunny smile and an enthusiastic hug. Sheila’s friends Nancy and Paulette waited with her.
“I don’t know why you spend so much time with your little brother. Mine is just a pest,” Nancy complained.
“Mine too. But he thinks I’m the pest,” added Paulette.
Sheila knew that her friends didn’t understand her feelings for Danny—why they were best friends even though he had just turned eight and she was almost eleven.
“Well,” Sheila explained, “my brother is special.”
Sheila had been too young to remember when her mother and father first brought Danny home from the hospital. However, when she was older, they explained to her that Danny had a form of retardation called Down’s syndrome. They told her that that was why his eyes slanted slightly upward.
“But Danny still looks a lot like me,” she told them.
And she was right. But unlike her, Danny had difficulty learning, so he went to a special school.
When the bus came to a stop, Danny emerged, but without his usual smile. Instead, he walked slowly, his chin pressed unhappily to his chest.
“Danny, what’s wrong?” Sheila asked.
“They laugh at me,” he cried.
“Who? Who laughs at you?”
“The b-big b-b-boys,” he stammered.
Sheila knew immediately who the “big boys” were. A group of them lived nearby, and her friend Brad was one of them.
“Well, don’t pay any attention to them, Danny. They don’t know how special you are,” Sheila said comfortingly.
As they walked toward the house, something poking out of Danny’s book bag caught her eye. It was an announcement that Danny would be in the Special Olympics in six weeks. He would compete in the fifty-yard dash and the standing long jump. Her eyes sparkled at the prospect, and she grabbed her brother’s hand. “Danny, my boy, we have work to do!”
Upstairs in her closet, Sheila sorted through two cardboard boxes filled with old toys until she found what she was looking for—a cap gun and two boxes of caps. Out to the yard she and her brother flew.
Last year’s garden plot stretched before them. They raked and turned over the soil until it was fine and cushiony. Then she and Danny raided the sandbox with their shovels and spread a thick layer of sand over the soft earth. A length of duct tape marked the jumping line. Sheila and Danny slapped each other’s hands on a job well done. On the sidewalk, Danny crouched over one end of a measuring tape. Sheila, pulling the tape, measured off fifty yards and marked it with another piece of duct tape. “There!” Then she marked the sidewalk where Danny was with a third piece of tape.
After warm-ups, Danny waited poised at the starting line.
“On your mark, get set, …”
Bang! the cap gun exploded, and Danny took off for the tape at the other end.
“Good job!” Sheila told him.
After a few more sprint trials, Danny went over and stood with his toes against the silver tape bordering Sheila’s old garden.
“Jump to me,” she called.
Danny swung his arms back and forth, bent his knees, then leaped forward.
“Good, Dan!”
Over and over, he practiced running and jumping. Sheila kept a chart to show Danny’s progress. Sometimes their older brothers, Bob and Pat, and Mom and Dad would help. But sometimes they had unwelcome visitors—Brad and his friends. “How ya doin’, coach?” they’d call derisively to Sheila. “Trying for a world’s record?”
“Ignore them, Danny,” Sheila told him. “They’re not bad guys—they just don’t understand how special you are. Now forget them and jump to me.”
“I can’t,” Danny would whimper, then sit on the ground.
“You can’t quit just because of them. There will always be people like that around.”
“No!” Danny would refuse and fold his arms stubbornly across his chest.
“Then quit, but don’t expect me to stand around watching you feeling sorry for yourself,” Sheila told him, exasperated.
The four boys would snicker. “You lose, coach,” one would yell as they’d leave.
But Danny worked hard, and his chart reflected his improvement.
The day of the meet finally arrived. Bob and Pat had volunteered to help the officials take times and measurements at the meet. Sheila stayed with Danny while he waited for his events.
“Fifty-yard dash for boys eight to ten!” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker.
“That’s you, Dan!” Sheila said. “I’ll be rooting for you.” She squeezed his hand, then took her place behind the finish line.
“Runners, take your marks, get set, …”
Bang! went the starting gun. Danny ran his fastest. He looked for Sheila behind the finish line. One runner finished, then two, then three. Danny ran across the line and into Sheila’s arms.
“Good job, Danny. You’ll get a ribbon.”
Danny grinned.
After lunch a voice over the loudspeaker announced: “Standing long jump for boys eight to ten.”
As they hurried to the jumping pit, Sheila felt Danny tug on her arm. “Look.” Danny pointed to four familiar figures.
“Brad!” Sheila cried. “And his buddies. How could they!”
As the four approached, Sheila put her arm around Danny’s shoulder.
“C’mon, Danny, it’s time for your jump,” she coaxed, but he refused to budge.
“What’s the matter, coach—that kid giving you trouble?” Brad teased.
“Leave us alone, Brad. Please, Danny, come with me. The jumping is almost over.”
“I can’t,” Danny insisted.
Sheila looked sternly at her little brother. “Don’t quit on me now. I’ve told you that you’re special. You can do it. I’m going to walk over to that jumping pit. You’ll have to decide for yourself what you’re going to do.” She stood up and walked toward the pit.
“Last call for Danny Brooks,” she heard an official say.
“Sheila,” a little voice behind her called.
She turned to see Danny on the jumping line, and the four boys flanking the pit. Sheila stood at the far end. “To me, Dan—jump to me,” she called.
Danny kept his eyes on Sheila. His arms swung back and forth. His short legs bent, then sprung into the air.
“The winner!” someone yelled.
“You’ve won the gold medal, son,” the official with the tape measure said as he patted Danny’s shoulder.
“Not bad, kid,” Brad said and grinned. He turned to Sheila. “See you in school, coach.” And off he went with his buddies.
A woman placed the medal around Danny’s neck. Mom and Dad took pictures, and Bob and Pat patted him on the back. When Sheila bent down to hug her little brother, Danny took off his medal and put it around her neck. “Here, Sheila,” he said. “This is for you.”
“But why, Danny?” she asked.
“Because you’re my best friend,” he said. “And because you’re special.”

Nikki and Breck Fullmer quarreled constantly. Most of their fights were about Nikki borrowing Breck’s T-shirts, and Nikki enduring Breck’s music. Nikki and Breck were both looking for a way out of their conflicts when they decided to participate in their stake’s “Time Alone” experiment.
In “Time Alone” you invite a family member to spend an hour doing something they like with only you. It’s a laser focus of attention on a single sibling or parent. “Time Alone” is a simple formula for friendship that might make a change in your family. Some family members experience results in just a few meetings.
Nikki knew her brother gulped gallons of soda pop every week, so she invited him to go get a drink with her. He thought it was a fine arrangement, since she was buying. After the soda they talked and drove around for an hour. After just one rendezvous Nikki said, “He’s at a stage where he’ll do just about anything to be cool. And now he thinks it’s cool to be with me.”
Other young people who participated in the experiment didn’t fight with their brothers and sisters but felt their relationships weren’t as strong as they could be. Curtis Morley missed the close relationship he and his younger brother had as young boys. He decided to get up early with his brother and join him in his bike ride to volleyball practice during the summer.
“At first we just talked of common things, but as the days progressed he spoke more from the heart. I anticipated a noticeable change in him. It didn’t happen. Instead the change came over me. I had regained a friend, someone who would always be there when I needed him—and an awesome volleyball partner.”

Many miracles paved the way for Raymond Knight’s journey to the house of the Lord.
The first was his baptism in Alice Springs on 1 July 2017, at age 74. Elder Joel Barfuss, of the Australia Adelaide Mission recalls, “We were walking to an appointment and saw Ray walking down another road, so we decided to turn down the road just to talk to him. . . . He came to Church that Sunday and the rest was history.”
The second miracle came through family history. In the years after his baptism, senior missionary couples, Elder and Sister Clark, and later, Elder and Sister Gamble helped Ray to discover his family history.
Elder Scott Gamble helped Ray identify his father through the BillionGraves cemetery index.
“Ray is legendary with the young missionaries in Alice Springs,” says Sister Diane Gamble. “They all know and love him. He loves to share life stories about how his grandmother taught him to knit when he was nine years old, how his daughter in the Philippines asked him to bring her a kangaroo, and about how he knitted a jumper for Johnny Cash, the famous western singer.”
The third miracle involved a series of events that allowed Ray to travel 1,532.8 kilometers to attend the temple for the first time.
Cancer required the removal of Ray’s stomach, but while recovering from massive surgery, the Gambles taught him temple preparation lessons, which he continued after leaving the hospital.
Branch President Schwalger granted permission for the missionaries to resume Ray’s lessons over the phone and at his home. The Gambles used skeins of yarn and other props to review principles like the plan of salvation.
Ray eventually received his temple recommend, and with aid from the General Temple Patron Assistance Fund he prepared to receive his endowment.
Two weeks before his scheduled temple date, the Gambles received a call from Ray. Sister Gamble recalls, “He was in the hospital and told us he just wanted to die. We found him in the emergency department having a vial of potassium administered intravenously, which is apparently quite painful. Elder Gamble gave him a blessing, which helped him tolerate the procedure.”
Once Ray was cleared for travel, the long-awaited moment finally arrived. Ray and the missionary couple set out on 30 January 2024, and the group walked into the temple the following day.
At 81 years old now, Ray was able to participate in proxy baptisms and confirmations for his male ancestors. Then he used his Melchizedek Priesthood authority, for the first time, to perform proxy confirmations on Sister Gamble for his female ancestors. “I was moved to tears when Ray placed his hands on my head,” says Sister Gamble.
The fourth miracle was found in the power of prayer.
Ray wasn’t feeling well on the day Elder Gamble picked him up for his own endowment. His medication was making him dizzy and weak in the knees. They had to stop and rest several times between the hotel room and the car.
After a fervent prayer for Ray’s health and ability to proceed with his journey, Ray got out of the car and walked into the temple to receive his endowment. He had no further issues that day.
With additional support from senior missionary couples, the Felts and the Carrs, and President and Sister Kuhn from the mission presidency, Ray was able to perform proxy endowments for his ancestors. Elder Gamble described evidence of the Spirit in the celestial room later, where he saw tears rolling down Ray’s cheeks. “This is the first time I’ve felt a closeness to the Lord in such a profound way,” Ray explained. “I am in wonderment of His rich blessings.”
His ability to participate in all the planned sessions of his temple trip depended on how Ray felt, but on the days he didn’t attend, Sister Gamble says, everyone at the temple asked where Ray was. “It was like they were inquiring about a long-lost friend.”
Some days, Ray relied on the power of prayer to keep going. “On Saturday morning, [he] was feeling sick again,” Sister Gamble reports. “We said a prayer with Ray in the car and again he perked up almost immediately and was able to move forward with sealings.”
Referencing President Russell M. Nelson’s invitation to think celestial, the sealer said, “doing sealings is just about as close to thinking celestial as one can get in this life.”
Ray was sealed first to his parents, and then his mother was sealed to the grandparents who raised him. In total, 96 family ordinances were performed throughout the week. The group had many tender mercies and felt very close to the Spirit.
“I can’t even begin to tell you how idyllic it was for me to be introduced to the temple for the first time,” Ray said. “It was a joy unimaginable. I’m so looking forward to many more such visits… If only the same joy could be felt in absolutely every other location throughout the world and every single person could focus on the exquisite experience and peace of our Heavenly Father’s presence, there could not be any room for the hurt and devastating destruction that we learn about so constantly in our world.”

Most 11-year-olds are already busy with school, household chores, and activities with friends. But Alexandra C., from the state of Durango, Mexico, wasn’t a typical 11-year-old. In addition to all the normal things young people do at that age, Alexandra was making money from her own business and serving in her community.

So how does a girl that young start her own company?

It began when Alexandra heard of some classes the Church offers to help people learn to be self-reliant. The group was mainly for people 18 and older, but Alexandra was determined to join. She loved the idea of learning how to get a job or start her own business.

Could it be that she, a girl still in elementary school, might not only shape her own future but also help people who had even less than she did? After all, many of the Church members she knew from her town had little education and few resources.

Alexandra joined a group called “Starting and Growing My Business,” one of three subjects offered. Rather than being taught by a teacher, the group was led by a facilitator—a fellow group member who guides the other members through the course and encourages discussion. Alexandra met with her group every week for three months.

Photographs courtesy of Alexandra C.

As Alexandra learned how to be both temporally and spiritually self-reliant, she began to look around at the needs in her area. She noticed that there weren’t enough recreational activities for all the kids in her town, so she saved up money and bought a small trampoline. Alexandra put the trampoline in a public area and started renting it out, using ideas she’d learned about marketing and finance in her course.

The trampoline became very popular in her community.

Alexandra started using her skills in other ways too. Because she’d shown great respect for all her group members and had followed through on all her commitments, Alexandra was trusted to facilitate a new group—a position normally held by people 18 or older.

When Alexandra became a facilitator, she was by far the youngest of the six participants in her group. She carefully studied the materials before each group meeting so she’d know how to best help her fellow group members. She took her new role seriously. “She would get anxious when her group didn’t arrive on time or when the video equipment didn’t work,” said her father, David.

Alexandra learned to balance homework, the trampoline business, and her facilitator role exceptionally well. And she thinks it was well worth it. “God blessed me when He made me a facilitator,” she said. For her, one blessing was to learn about loving those you serve.

That love led her to reach out to her group with a real desire for them to succeed. For instance, each time they met, group members made weekly commitments to apply what they studied to their businesses and then teach their families the gospel principles they’d learned. When participants in Alexandra’s group didn’t reach their goals or missed a class, she’d visit them in their homes to see if they were all right and to encourage them to fulfill their commitments. “I loved visiting my group members,” she said.

Alexandra’s dad added, “I marvel to see how my little daughter could feel so strongly about the well-being of those in need. She has great compassion for those she serves.”

Now a Beehive in Young Women, Alexandra has plans to expand her trampoline business to a nearby community. By learning to be more self-reliant and helping others do the same, she said she’s already started to see changes in herself and her new friends in her group. “My testimony of Christ has grown,” Alexandra said. “I feel more sure of myself, and I want to serve.”

Alexandra said that because of this training course, she’s more aware of who she really is and how she can serve. “I learned I could improve myself. And I loved to see all of the group members improving. I know they’ll be better off now; their businesses will improve. I know that the self-reliance training was revelation from God.”

For Alexandra, her testimony, self-worth, and service to others have definitely been things worth working for.

“This past year Christmas was very special to me. It was completely different from past Christmases. This year I engaged in helping many people during the pandemic.
“Though we couldn’t attend church or participate in some of our normal Christmas activities, helping others was still uplifting and made me feel the joy of Christmas. My family exchanged gifts with each other. We also made delicious food and served it to many of our friends of other faiths.
“I took the Light the World initiative diligently and served people. Doing so brought me peace and great happiness. I know Heavenly Father loves me and all His children. I know that Jesus Christ came to this world to love and to save us.”
Ruthwik V., 14, Bengaluru, India

I was baptized in Comayaguela, Honduras, in February 1992. After serving a mission in El Salvador, I moved to San Pedro Sula, Honduras. There I met Brenda, a beautiful young woman who had been home from her mission for only nine days. Some months later we were married in the Guatemala City Guatemala Temple.
We established our home in the Fesitranh Ward in Honduras, and before long I was called as the first counselor in the bishopric. At a priesthood executive committee meeting, the bishop informed us that one of our ward members, Brother Fidel Durón, was moving to another ward in the stake. He told us that Brother Durón was a very service-minded person and that every ward member no doubt had something to thank him for.
Brother Durón helped anyone in need, whether it involved an electrical problem, some construction work, a broken pipe, or an early-morning trip to the hospital. His service was not limited to Church members but was also extended to his neighbors and acquaintances. He was loved and respected by all. The bishop gave us an assignment to find all those members who had something to thank Brother Durón for. A meeting was planned to honor him for the selfless service he had given for such a long time.
I said to myself, “I don’t have anything to thank Brother Durón for.” I had lived in the ward for just a short time and had spoken with him on a few occasions. He seemed to be a pleasant person, but I didn’t think I had had the opportunity to be the recipient of an act of service at his hand.
Some time later I was called to be a member of the high council and assigned to the López Arellano Ward, the ward Brother Durón now attended. One Sunday I was in Sunday School in this ward, and the teacher asked class members to share personal experiences regarding service.
I happened to be seated to the left of a sister named Adela Rosa de Santos. She started to tell how the man at her right, Brother Durón, had served as her home teacher when she and her family were new members of the Church. She told how his kind service had given them strength and encouragement when they needed it and how he had blessed their lives. She concluded by saying, “If it weren’t for you, Brother Durón, I wouldn’t be here.”
I could hardly believe my ears. Sister Adela’s daughter, Suyapa, was the missionary who had knocked on my door five years earlier, and now I was a member of the Church and my life had been filled with the richest possible blessings. I had been given the opportunity to serve a mission, the privilege of receiving my temple ordinances, and the glorious hope of having an eternal family.
At that moment I learned that 20 years before, a humble man who was true to his commitment to serve others had unknowingly labored for the welfare of my soul. I was filled with a joy that is hard to express and with love for my brother, Fidel Durón. I had once thought I didn’t have anything to thank Brother Durón for. Now I considered myself to be first and foremost on the list the bishop had asked us to make.
That special meeting for Brother Durón was never held, because he returned to the Fesitranh Ward for a time. We now have a beautiful friendship. I have so many reasons to be grateful to Jesus Christ for all He has done for me and also to Brother Durón for the love he showed me 20 years before he ever met me.