Gospel Story Finder

Suluya Racule, three weeks older than Vani, faces her own challenges. Suluya didn’t grow up in the Church, although it seemed like she did. She began attending Primary when she was nine because her aunt, a Church member, was a Primary teacher. She spent the first 15 years of her life as a nonmember, even though she knew a lot about the gospel. And she kept going to church even when her aunt and uncle moved to Tonga. But her membership status changed from nonmember to member in December 1995 when she was finally able to be baptized.

Even now, almost four years later, Suluya is still the only member of the Church in her immediate family.

“My parents were against my getting baptized. They thought I was too young to know the truth, and they thought I should go around to other churches and see what they were like before I decided,” she remembers. “But I had this strong feeling inside of me that this was the true church. I couldn’t think of any other church to go to.”

Maybe it takes a little adversity—or even a lot of it—to truly appreciate what you have. Vani admits it’s been difficult at times not having her mom and dad around. Suluya, meanwhile, would like nothing better than to have her family join her on Sundays. For now, she goes to church alone.

When Suluya is asked about her conversion, she gladly shares the details of her Christmas Eve baptism. She fairly beams as she remembers that day. Suluya then mentions the death of her father two years ago. “Heart failure.” He was 47. The conversation switches gears.

“Although I’ve always wanted my family to join the Church, his death has encouraged me even more to help my mom and my sister get baptized. I’m trying so hard to get them to come to church with me,” she says. When Suluya was baptized, her family didn’t attend the service. “But they understand that the Church is a commitment to me, and they respect my decision and support me. Still, it’s hard to see families sitting together at church, and my family isn’t there. When you have something this good, you want to share it with your family.”

Suluya admits she was closer to her father than to her mother, but accepts that maybe in some ways his death was a blessing. “It’s brought my sister and me closer to our mom. We’ve really gotten to know our mom better,” she explains.

And so it was that on August 4, 1899, in Whitney, Idaho, Sarah Benson started into labor. Her husband, George, gave her a blessing. “Dr. Allan Cutler attended her in the bedroom of their farm home, with both grandmothers, Louisa Benson and Margaret Dunkley, there. The delivery was protracted. As the baby, a large boy, was delivered, the doctor couldn’t get him to breathe and quickly laid him on the bed and pronounced, ‘There’s no hope for the child, but I believe we can save the mother.’ While Dr. Cutler feverishly attended to Sarah, the grandmothers rushed to the kitchen, praying silently as they worked, and returned shortly with two pans of water—one cold, the other warm. Alternately, they dipped the baby first in cold and then in warm water, until finally they heard a cry. The 11 3/4 pound boy was alive! Later, both grandmothers bore testimony that the Lord had spared the child. George and Sarah named him Ezra Taft Benson” (Sheri L. Dew, Ezra Taft Benson: A Biography [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1987], pp. 13–14).

I live in Oklahoma, where there are many missionary opportunities. One such experience happened recently with my friend and my English teacher. Our English teacher assigns different journal topics every Monday, and we can choose to read them aloud on Friday.
One week, my teacher chose the topic “If you could have someone famous or well-known raise you, who would it be?” My friend chose Brigham Young, and I chose Thomas S. Monson. We are the only Mormons in our grade, so nobody else knew who we were talking about. My friend read hers aloud, but I had no intention of reading mine. Then, I felt the Spirit prompt me that I needed to read mine.
After we both read our journal entries, our teacher started asking us questions about our Church. We talked about our beliefs for about 20 minutes. Normally I would have been nervous, but I felt the Spirit so strongly. My teacher seemed interested.
The next week, I gave my teacher a copy of the Book of Mormon. I put a copy of the Articles of Faith inside, along with a brief summary of the Book of Mormon. She said that she felt ignorant because most kids can say what they believe, but they only know because their parents told them. “But you know what you believe,” she said, “and you know why.”
I felt the Spirit confirm that because I had listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost, I had had a missionary experience that I would not have had otherwise.

Light spilled through the open door onto the cobblestone street outside. Behind the marble counter a 13-year-old boy slapped and pounded a fistful of dough into a flat circle and drizzled it with olive oil.
“Funghi o qualcos’altro? (Mushrooms or something else?),” he asked Casimiro.
“Funghi,” replied Casimiro, and Annalisa nodded her head in agreement. While on their way home from Mutual they had not been able to resist the yeasty, spicy aura hanging about the street near the neighborhood pizzeria and had stopped in for pizza.
The boy deftly smeared a ladleful of tomato sauce on the flattened dough and almost as quickly chopped up a fresh curd of mozzarella cheese, still dripping milk from the bowl it was snatched out of. He dashed coarse salt and pepper over the two pizzas and slipped a large wooden paddle under them one at a time. Taking a large straw broom from against the wall, he swept away the embers near the fire in the back of the oven. Without hesitation the wooden paddle soon deposited the pizzas on a fine layer of ash on the floor of the brick oven.
Near the door of the pizzeria, three of Casimiro’s neighbors were discussing in tones growing warmer every minute the merits of their favorite calcio (soccer) teams.
“The fire in the oven isn’t the only thing that’s cooking this evening,” chuckled Casimiro to Annalisa as they watched their pizzas roast and grow bubbly through the pizza oven’s open door.
Soon the mozzarella was running in milky rivers between crusty mountains of browned pizza dough, and the wooden paddle swished them from the fire. Still piping hot, the two pizzas were folded over, wrapped in paper, and held out to Casimiro and Annalisa. Each plunked 250 lira, about 50 cents, on the counter and turned to leave the pizzeria.
Outside the door the conversation had turned from soccer to the irresponsible driving habits of youth because a young girl crossing the street had just narrowly avoided being hit by a small motorbike. Casimiro and Annalisa dodged the discussion just as one of the participants began offering Casimiro the opinion that “in the old days, youth had more respect.”
Waving back at the men and laughing as they hurried down the cobblestones toward their homes, Casimiro and Annalisa finally bit into their steaming pizzas. Mutual had been over for about half an hour, and their parents would begin wondering where they were.

Not very many years ago in a Maori village in New Zealand, a baby boy was born. He soon received a blessing from his grandfather who said in the blessing that this boy would one day become an educational leader among his people. Some of the men in the village laughed at that blessing; it seemed so unrealistic. That boy, Barney Wihongi, earned his doctorate and became president of the Church College of New Zealand. He became president of the Church College of New Zealand at age 35 and had influence among other educators in the country of New Zealand. The promises given to Brother Wihongi as a baby amused some. Brother Barney Wihongi inspired many!

Commuters hardly notice the statue, isolated at the back of a train station in Kiev, Ukraine. It depicts a woman releasing three doves who then fly free. Built years ago under a repressive regime, today the statue seems symbolic of Ukraine’s newfound liberty. It could also serve as a symbol of young LDS women in this land. They, like the doves, are testing their wings, praying that the breeze of freedom will sustain them as the restored gospel spreads throughout their land.
“Put your foot inside this shoe,” seminary teacher Tatyana Mutilina said, holding out a boot nearly large enough for Goliath. Her student, Anzhelika Kovalova, placed her foot timidly inside.
“Now,” the teacher said, “put it here on the table where everyone can see.”
That got the class’s attention.
“Don’t go on a journey wearing shoes that don’t fit,” Sister Mutilina said. Then she taught the Kharkovsky Branch youth a powerful lesson from the seminary manual, reading scriptures, discussing questions, and bearing her testimony about how important it is to be prepared when the Lord calls upon you. The point?
“That the future of the Church in Ukraine will require youth like us to step forward,” Anzhelika says. “We need to be ready for the challenge.” She is not the only young LDS woman here with such an understanding. Others share similar views.
“It makes a big difference to be a member of the Church,” says Galina Trohemenko of the Syvatoshino Branch. “It means living standards that others don’t. That’s what attracted me to the Church in the first place. I have a friend who is a member, and she and her family have such high standards that I wanted to find out more. Now that I’m a member, I need to set that same kind of example for those around me.”
But all of this might never have been, had earlier sisters surrendered to their fears. Consider Kira Gulko’s story:
“I was 14,” she explains. “We weren’t practicing Jews, but we were of Jewish origin. For many years in our family, talking about Jesus Christ was forbidden. But when perestroika began, allowing greater freedom to look at new ideas, my parents started to explore different religions and philosophies. My mother was president of the international friendship club at the school where she teaches English. She found a letter from a teacher in Riverton, Utah, who was looking for pen pals. My mother’s class responded, and in return they got a big box of maybe 100 letters. Many of the students mentioned they were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but my mother didn’t know what that was.
“Then we were passing by the bridge near our house, and we saw a notice inviting people to attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints! My parents decided to go, first so Mom could answer her students’ questions, but also because they were looking for another religion themselves.
“That was in October 1991. After that, the missionaries started coming to our apartment. Soon my parents understood that Jesus Christ is their Savior. They also loved the doctrine of eternal families. We have a wonderful family, and I think that was an important principle to us. They also went to a baptism and felt the Spirit. In December they decided to be baptized themselves.
“I listened to all of the discussions, but I couldn’t understand why my parents decided to join this church. I was afraid they were crazy, that something had happened to their minds. But as I read the Book of Mormon, my testimony of its truthfulness grew stronger and stronger. The key to my conversion was when I realized I am truly loved by my Heavenly Father. I could feel this big love that’s around me and see it in my parents and in the members of the Church. That’s why I was baptized in February 1992. I knew it was right.”
Since then, Kira has helped to bring her friend Lena into the Church and has watched three of her four grandparents embrace the gospel. She has seen her mother help with the translation of the Book of Mormon into Ukrainian and seen her father called as a district president. She has spent several semesters at Brigham Young University, where she served as a student ward Relief Society president. Now attending a university in Kiev, she is watching what were once small branches grow into large ones.
And then there’s Natalia Yereskovska. As a 15-year-old exchange student, she left Cherkassy, Ukraine (south of Kiev), for Sleepy Hollow, Illinois (northwest of Chicago). She gave her LDS hosts quite a shock when, on the way home from the airport, she said, “I know God sent me to you.”
She had been praying to be placed with a religious family, “so I could find my spiritual life.” When she read the profile sheet of the Bruce B. and Jean Bingham family, she saw that they didn’t smoke and that they attended church regularly. But she also felt something, a witness that she should listen to the Binghams and follow their example. Natalia spent the next year participating in family prayer, home evening, Young Women, sacrament meetings, and Sunday School.
Her sensitivity to the Spirit grew. She found answers she’d been seeking for years. She took the missionary discussions. She fasted and prayed and received an answer that she should join the Church. Fearful that her parents would never approve, she gathered her courage, made her request, and received permission. She was baptized on January 7, 1996. But soon she faced concern of another kind. She must return to Cherkassy, a town of 350,000, where she would be the only Latter-day Saint.
“I was scared,” she says. “I couldn’t imagine going where there is no church, where I wouldn’t be able to go to meetings or take the sacrament. But on the flight home I remembered what Brother Bingham told me: ‘No matter where you are, you can be a light.’ That gave me some comfort.”
After spending two Sundays studying scriptures, praying, and singing hymns by herself, Natalia heard of an LDS youth conference in Kiev. She went, and there she met President Wilfried M. Voge of the Ukraine Kiev Mission. Together they mapped out the required steps for the Church to be recognized in Cherkassy. The process started with getting signatures on a petition inviting missionaries to come. But the request had to come from adults.
Natalia made friends with a university professor who once stayed with an LDS family in Wisconsin. He agreed to help, prepared an official letter of invitation, got a group of business students to agree to listen to the missionaries, and even arranged a meeting with the mayor of a small town nearby. After Natalia explained about Church standards, the head counselor of her school also signed the petition and requested that missionaries speak to the entire school!
In September 1996, the first missionaries came. In October, Church meetings were held. In January, the first convert was baptized. Then another in February. Then families. Additional missionaries were assigned. Young Women, Relief Society, Sunday School, and Primary were organized. Picnics and service projects were held. Men were ordained to the priesthood. A branch president was called. Natalia led one of her lifelong friends to the Church, and even the professor’s wife was baptized! In short, the branch kept growing and growing. Today, if you visit the Cherkassy Branch and ask for Natalia, five members will turn and say, “Yes?”
When Natalia first thought about establishing the gospel in her hometown, she was nervous. But President Voge said, “Heavenly Father will support you.” That kind of faith has paved the way for others.
Two trees growing side by side. It’s a symbol for Ukraine that is more than 1,000 years old. It’s stamped on the back of each coin minted by the government. It’s incorporated in the national coat of arms. And it’s also a symbol of the lives of young LDS women in Ukraine today.
As they walk through the Kiev Botanical Gardens, Lilia Velbivets and Aliona Papilenkova explain. “Youth in the Church are a lot like those trees,” Lilia says. “We shelter each other, we protect each other, and together we grow straight and true.”
Aliona, for example, has grown by studying seminary. She is now one of the first four-year graduates in Ukraine. Lilia is following that example by studying seminary herself.
“In seminary we get away from the world,” Aliona says. “We learn to trust the truth contained in the scriptures and to use it in our lives.”
Lilia talks about her family’s growth in the gospel. “My mother and I met the sister missionaries, and we were excited to learn about another testament of Jesus Christ (the Book of Mormon). But my father was an atheist and slower to convert.” As the family took the discussions regularly, however, her father’s heart was touched. All three were baptized on the same day.
“The next year was wonderful as we prepared to go to the temple (in Freiberg, Germany) to be sealed as a family,” Lilia continues. “When we arrived I felt like I was at home, because the temple is the house of God and we are His children.”
Aliona remembers a big ray of sunshine coming through the window when she was baptized at age 15. Hope filled her heart. Soon, however, she found that she lost friends at school “because they didn’t understand what I had done, and they started to see a big difference in me. But I will never compare my God to my friends. Heavenly Father always holds first place with me.”
She has since found many new friends in the Church, she says. “And now I can’t imagine my life without it. It’s like the air I breathe.”
The evening sun is fading as Lilia and Aliona walk toward the exit from the park. By the side of the path two trees stand, growing tall together.
Legend says Kiev was founded by three fierce brothers, Kiy, Shchek, and Khoriv. But in the statue that memorializes them, their sister Lybed stands at the bow of the boat, arms outstretched and expression earnest. In this ancient place, her image could also represent the young Latter-day Saint women of Ukraine. Eager to soar, they are already flying toward the future.

Stake President John D. Jury explained that the camp was established, “because of the need for the young men of our widespread stake to come together for a major camping and hiking experience—to feel the strength of numbers greater than the usual minority status they have in so many of their other associations. I also wanted to allow them to appreciate the beautiful creations that Heavenly Father has blessed us with here in Tasmania. I wanted them to gain an appreciation of the hardships encountered by our forefathers who settled this area and also to practice the skills learnt in Scouting.”
“Our preliminary work involved sending two of the brethren to the island to examine the campsite, the facilities, sea and land transport, and to make recommendations. Then leaders in the stake met at a central location and worked out the details of the basic plan.”
Sixty-eight excited Tasmanians climbed off of the ferry for their adventure on Maria Island. Many had never seen or met the people from the other wards. They also brought many of their nonmember and non-Scout friends. And they had many good leaders, including their stake president and several bishops and fathers, in addition to their Scoutmasters and other priesthood leaders.
The wind was whistling in from Darlington Bay as the boys tried to put up their tents. They struggled alone and in pairs until they quickly learned that it required more help and cooperation than pairs could muster. With many hands and backs bent to the task the tents came up, one by one, and now they stayed up. Pegged tight against the Tasmanian soil, they withstood the stiff sea breezes that are not all that far from Antarctica.
As they were laying out camp and putting up their tents, the boys noticed their wild animal hosts, who quickly established themselves as wonderful combinations of curiosity and nuisance. The emus, wallabies, and kangaroos were everywhere.
Emu watching became one of the full-time chores because they were big and hungry and were not very fussy about what they ate. They quickly earned the moniker, “walking vacuum cleaners.” And then the reason for all of the extra gear became clear: if it wasn’t sealed in a box, tin, billy, or barrel it would be eaten by an emu.
Cries like “There’s an emu in your drum (barrel) eating all your tucker,” “Hey boys, an emu has his head in your grub box,” or “An emu has someone’s bread,” (a whole loaf), or “Watch that wallaby” were a constant part of camp life, especially at mealtime.
From the beginning brushes with emus, the boys were ecstatic about the wildlife on Maria Island. Most of them had never seen kangaroos in the bush, and the emus, wallabies, and all the bird life made every outing and every meal an adventure. One hundred and twenty-nine species of birds live on the island, including some rare birds endemic to Tasmania. Emus, Cape Baron geese, native hens, flame and scarlet robins, white-backed magpies, sea eagles, parrots, and the raucous-sounding kookaburra, which delighted everyone with unbelievable vocal techniques, were pure pleasure to observe and classify.
Listening to the birds was even more fun than watching them. Every morning the camp awoke to a special symphony provided by the local aviary company. Native hens began the first movement by setting up a racket of calls, clucks, and cries. Song birds of all sorts warbled and trilled their beautiful melodies from antiphonal perches in the trees around the camp. Cape Baron geese squawking and chuckling in their cello-like voices added a baritone harmonic presence to the symphony. Arias were freely added with the crescendoing, hyena-like cries of Tasmania’s laughing jackass, the kookaburra. This almost perfect, but loud, symphony suddenly became complete as the deep bass tom tom tom drumming tones of the emu joined in. The emus seemed to sense when the symphony needed their strong rhythmic accompaniment. The same orchestra seemed to go all out to give a wonderful hour-long concert every morning just after daybreak.
Besides the wallabies and kangaroos, other marsupials living near the Scout camp included the potoroo, ring-tailed possums, echidnas, and wombats. The famous Tasmanian devils have never been sighted on Maria Island.
This information alone allowed the boys to sleep easier at night, although many still felt sleeping was the biggest problem at the camp.
“The nights were really bad. The possums were out in force raiding tents and rubbish bins all night. In the whole camp the worst thing was trying to get to sleep. There was one rock that seemed to follow me all night, and between that and the wind and the cold I didn’t sleep much,” said Stephen Szekely, of Launceston.
“The possums through the night gave me the willies because we had to keep bashing them out of our food box and a possum got in our tent and climbed up our tent pole. We broke our torch (flashlight) trying to get him out of there. Then the emus got in our tent and dunged all over Heath’s, Andrew’s, and my sleeping gear. But the kangaroos were great; they weren’t pests like the emus,” said Geoffrey Jones, a nonmember from Glen Huon.
Skinks, frogs, and snakes were also part of the environment. Blue-tongued lizards and white-lipped whip snakes seemed to be created just for the Scouts to observe.
After camp was organized many of the boys walked the few yards to the woodlot for firewood. Captain Scott, the island ranger and caretaker, hauled in large trailer loads of wood, which the boys attacked with zeal and a wide assortment of hatchets and axes. It sounded as if they were chopping stone. The axes actually rang as they glanced off the tough wood. There was never the dull “thunk” sound one hears when chopping a pine log. Australian gum trees make a wonderful fire, but they are very tough and stringy. The wood is hard and dense and easily wears out axes and choppers alike. Most of the trees on the island are varieties of the eucalyptus and include blue gums, stringy bark gums, and white gums.
The boys helped plan and cook their own meals and spent the most amount of time and creative energy on “tea,” the evening meal. Peas, carrots, parsnips, onions, potatoes fried, bully (corned beef), skim milk, and pudding started the week’s teas, and the same kind of robust fare continued every night.
The meals were cooked over open fires in blackened pots and long-handled frying pans. After tea was over and the dishes were cleaned up and put away, the various patrol fires were ringed with boys and leaders. They sat on logs with their arms clasped around their knees, “yarning” about the gospel, cricket, the bad drought in Tasmania, and whether or not any of the political parties would accept Dick Smith’s offer of a one-million-dollar donation to stop the building of the Franklin Dam. American sports also interested them. “What about you, Brother Kelly? Do you like to play gridiron?” they would ask.
Of course this much talk made for more hunger, and so before it was bedtime a spot of cocoa or a cup of hot Milo was welcome. A few went in for more exotic treats.
“We’re having chocolate banners. They’re beautiful. You take a Cadbury’s block and put it in a split banana and then put it in foil and set it in the fire,” said Matthew Sayers.
The young men also enjoyed singing songs around the campfires at night. They sang many folksongs familiar to other English-speaking Scouts, but their favorites seemed to be those with a particular Australian flavor, like “Advance Australia Fair,” “Botany Bay,” and “Gundagai”:
There’s a track winding back
To an old-fashioned shack,
Along the road to Gundagai;
Where the blue gums are growing
The Murrumbidgee’s flowing,
Beneath that sunny sky;
Where my daddy and mother
Are waiting for me,
And the pals of my childhood
Once more I will see,
Then no more will I roam
When I’m heading right for home,
Along the road to Gundagai.
Two taxing bush walks or hikes climaxed the boys’ stay on the island. The first was a long hike east from camp on a track that runs across a narrow part of the island, around the old convict cement works, and up along Fossil Cliffs above Fossil Bay. Here the trail climbs inland through forests of gum trees and across rocky scree slopes. Most of the boys reached the summit, the twin peaks of Bishop and Clerk. Perched on the rocky summit 630 meters above the sea they ate their boiled eggs, sandwiches, biscuits (cookies), and oranges while they drank in the magnificent vistas of Freycinet Peninsula to the north and Cape Bernier to the south.
Wednesday’s 26-kilometer walk to Chinaman’s Bay and back was tougher than the hike up Bishop and Clerk. Everyone brought their bathers (swimming trunks) and a towel, plus lunch. It took several hours slogging along the soft sandy road that followed the shoreline to reach the white beaches of Chinaman’s Bay. The boys showed amazing stamina as they not only kept up but often overtook their leaders.
As four young Scouts passed him, Brother Pash described the feelings of many of the adults when he said, “It’s disgusting, it is, to see little blokes catching us up that way.”
After some very icy swimming (the Tasman Sea carries too much of the Antarctic chill for the less hardy souls), everyone began the long walk back to camp in time to hike down to the ferry dock, meet the afternoon boat, and buy a fizzy (soda pop).
Thursday’s activities included a treasure hunt that lasted several hours and figured as the high point of the trip for many of the boys. Patrols used clues provided by leaders to guide them from point to point around the island. Because the clues were written very subtly the boys’ powers of observation were sharpened, and whether they had to identify the bleached bones of a beached whale or an old cabin used by one of the early penal officers, they gained a new appreciation for the island and its inhabitants.
Wide games (for getting acquainted), softball, cricket, chess, and fishing took up their share of time as did some service projects for the ranger. Most agreed that it was a wonderful camp, but by Friday men and boys alike were ready to go home.
Geoffrey Swanton, 13, summed up the feelings for many when he said, “The camp was a good experience for me. I think the hikes to Bishop and Clerk and Chinaman’s Bay did me good. I’m glad came. The food was good, but there was not enough of it. I reckon the wildlife here is some of the best in Australia. You could pat the wallabies and observe other animals quite close up. The historic value of the island is good and there was always something to do. I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer, but I need a good shower, a good feed-up, and some sleep at home.”
Though everyone had his favorite activities, most agreed that the most successful part of the whole camp was the wonderful associations that were forged in the warm glow of campfire conversations, in the hot dust of the island’s trails, and in the friendly warmth of patrol and tent group prayers.
“At first the camp appeared boring, but by the second day things became all right. I hardly knew anybody from the other patrols at first, but by the end of the camp I had made many new friends,” said David Scott, from Launceston.
“The camp drew us all a lot closer to our leaders, and it made us all work as a group in order to eat or have activities. The camp succeeded. It brought the young men and leaders together and helped to unify the stake Scout force,” said Matthew Parsons, from Glenorchy.
Every leader enjoyed his associations with the young men of the camp. They seemed pleased when the boys wanted to tell them about their troubles and hopes for life.
“I’ve enjoyed getting to really know the boys I’ve been called to watch over. It has helped me to know their strengths, and this camp really opened up the lines of communication between us,” said Bishop Triffith, Devonport.
The young men left the camp with new friends, better associations with their priesthood leaders, and in many cases stronger interests in the gospel of Jesus Christ and the Scouting program. The first all-Tasmanian LDS Scout camp on Maria Island was over, and everyone agreed that it had been a smashing success.

A young person who “just loves music” or is “simply wild about acting” can easily mistake a hunger for applause as the presence of talent. Recently a young man came to my office and said that he was going to organize a rock band, make a hit record, and acquire fame and fortune within the next year. I asked him what success he had already achieved in other people’s bands. “None.” How expert was he on an instrument? “I’m just learning the guitar.” I advised him not to risk the savings of friends or parents on a rock-band venture but to learn basic musical skills, join someone else’s band, and when he felt that he could surpass his mentor, then embark on a solo career. As he left, I suggested that he return in a year with his bank book, and we could compare notes, receivable and payable.

At the end of 2020, I was finding it difficult to feel the spirit of Christmas, so I listened to John Bytheway’s book, Born This Happy Morning1, for ideas. In one chapter, he shares an experience where he purchased tyres for a woman he had just met.
Brother Bytheway says he knows he may have forfeited blessings by telling us about his service, but he risks it to share the overflowing joy and satisfaction he still feels when he remembers that incident. It’s a reminder that it is more blessed to give than to receive.
That joy and satisfaction was exactly what was missing in my life. That Christmas, I believed this feeling would help me focus more on my Saviour, so in December, I fasted to become an instrument in Heavenly Father’s hands. I wanted to help someone—spontaneously or unexpectedly—so they would know He cares for them, and also that I might feel the peace and joy of the season. As I tried to explain to Heavenly Father what I was fasting for, I ultimately said the words: “You know, like John Bytheway and the tyres”.
I spent the following days actively looking for opportunities to serve, then, while I was enjoying a night out with a dear friend, she briefly mentioned she needed new tyres!
My jaw dropped and my heart swelled as I heard the Spirit clearly speak to me: “Sarah, here are your tyres and the answer to your fast.”
I maneuvered the conversation back to the tyres and discovered that while my friend and her husband knew their tyres had to be replaced soon, in recent days, they both felt an even more urgent need for new tyres.
I told her about my fast and that I felt that this was Heavenly Father’s answer to my prayers. I then asked if I could pay for their tyres.
My friend went silent for some time, and then she nodded. After several more emotional moments, she explained that she and her husband could not currently afford the tyres they needed, but they still followed the promptings they both had received and organised the new set. It turned out, the exact day that I was fasting for an experience, ‘you know, like John Bytheway and the tyres’, they were fasting for a way to be able to pay for theirs.
I can assure you I was not expecting the answer to my fast to be so literal! But how perfectly timed and miraculously specific was the Lord’s response to each of our prayers.
If this miracle ended here, it would still be a favourite hear-Him moment in my life. However, just two days after this beautiful family got new tyres, my friend called. I was unable to take her call, which I love, because it means I still have her voicemail on my phone explaining that earlier that day, as she was driving with her young children, in torrential rain, a car with no brake lights pulled dangerously into the traffic ahead and she had to slam on the brakes. They safely came to a halt, and she knew immediately that if they still had their old tyres, they would have run right into the car in front. She said it was a miracle and ended the call with, “So, thank you”.

When I walked in the door one evening, Jessie, my six-year-old daughter, was sitting on a stool in our kitchen. Her countenance worried me. I asked her what had happened.
“Daddy, is it true that I’m a child of the devil?” she asked with deep concern.
Her question hit me like a bucket of cold water. Jessie said her friend’s three-month-old sister had already been baptized. Jessie was surprised and asked her friend why her little sister had been baptized at such a young age. Her friend replied that all babies had to be baptized.
“You haven’t been baptized?” her friend then asked. When Jessie said no, her friend insisted that she was a child of the devil.
“Daddy, baptize me!” Jessie implored. “I don’t want to be a child of the devil!”
I realized that this challenge needed to be resolved immediately. I explained the importance of baptism and how children need no baptism until they are eight years old (see Moroni 8:11–23). Because she was only six years old, I told Jessie she would have to wait a little longer before her baptism. I assured her that she was a child of God and that He loved her. Her question led us to Moroni 10:4–5, where Moroni tells us how we can determine “the truth of all things.”
After reading these verses, I asked if she wanted to pray to Heavenly Father and ask Him if the things we had talked about were true. She said yes.
We knelt together, and Jessie bowed her head and prayed, “Heavenly Father, I want to know if the things my daddy has told me are true. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
I realized I had led my daughter to say one of the most important prayers of her life. I began pleading in my heart as I had never done before, asking Heavenly Father to answer her prayer.
After a few minutes, she said, “I didn’t hear anything.” I took her in my arms and said, “Heavenly Father gave us the Comforter, who answers us with …” I put my hand on my heart. She interrupted me and said, “With a warm feeling in my chest! I feel it, Daddy!”
I hugged her tightly and thanked Heavenly Father for answering her prayer. I also felt a burning in my bosom. I told Jessie that what she had felt was an answer to her prayer and that now she knew she was a daughter of God and that she should be baptized when she was eight. She told me she would wait.
Many years have passed since that experience, but it still reminds me that Heavenly Father keeps His promises.

Five years ago, I accepted the true gospel of Jesus Christ and was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. Since then, I was nourished by the good word of God through leaders, teachers, callings, and sweet members. One Sabbath day, I was touched and inspired by a testimony borne by a 6-year-old primary kid on his temple experience. I was so much moved and inspired that I decided then to prepare myself along with my family to go to the temple.

Finally, look for insights inside from the Spirit. An early trial in my life was giving up a four-year scholarship to serve a mission in Italy. Upon my return, I was humbled to discover I could test out of many Italian classes due to my Italian fluency. My grades not only helped my acceptance to law school but with a law school scholarship that the Lord had lovingly returned to me. The scripture Ether 12:6 came to mind—that we “receive no witness until after the trial of our faith.” [12] But the Lord had further refining to do. After my first year, my top-20% law school status was challenged when a drunk driver hit us head-on, which, in turn, decimated my law school grades. I made a covenant with the Lord not to study on Sundays (amongst other covenants), much to the chagrin of my law school study partners. My covenants resulted in nearly straight A’s the remainder of law school and a return to the top 20% upon graduation.

Scott learned about raising guide dogs at an assembly at school. “The speaker brought three dogs to give a demonstration. I thought it would be neat to raise one. I went home and asked Mom and Dad, and they said they would have to talk about it. Mom went to a guide dog meeting one day, and they decided to let me try it.”
Scott’s mother, Kay, had some reservations. “I was leery at first because it is such a commitment. The dog has to be in the house and sleep right beside the child’s bed at night. But we’ve loved the experience. We take the dog everywhere, to visit Grandma, to family reunions, to the grocery store, or whenever we come to town.”

Growing up in Brazil, my father always told me stories about my grandfather—how he immigrated from Germany to Brazil at a very early age and did not have the opportunity to study. My grandfather worked as a painter in the local community. He took a lot of pride in his work and would always do his best to exceed his customers’ expectations. As a result, he always had a lot of work available to him. Through his work, he was able to provide a good living for his wife and their five children. They were not rich. Life was still challenging, but they had their own house and covered the basic needs of life. They were happy.

Some years ago, while serving as the President of the Toronto Mission, I had a 6’7” missionary from a small town in Arizona assigned to our mission. We encouraged our missionaries to memorize scriptures every day. This missionary, just off the farm, said, “I can’t do it, President. I can’t memorize.” I replied, “Just work on one sentence at a time.” Being obedient, he did his best. In our final interview, I said to him, “I understand you have now memorized over 50 scriptures.” He responded with a smile, “No, President – over 70 scriptures.” In truth, our capabilities have no limitations because God has planted within each of us the seeds of Godhood. His divine DNA is in our spiritual composition.

Shortly after coming home from my mission, I remembered what I learned from the wonderful people on my mission. I was hesitant at first, but I relied on the Savior to help me overcome my fears and start dating again. It took some time, but I eventually got engaged to my best friend from high school. He knew everything about me, including my fears and my experiences, and I was overjoyed to be with him.
But I was terrified. He was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I knew, but I still worried that my marriage would fail as my parents’ did. My faith in an eternal marriage was faltering.
With these thoughts swirling around in my head, I turned to prayer and was prompted to talk to my mom about her experiences. I asked her why it was worth getting married when I could avoid the potential pain by not getting married.
That’s when my mom bore her powerful testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. She reminded me that no matter how we struggle in life, the Savior is always there to buoy us up. If we trust in Him, then we have no reason to fear for the future.
My mom’s advice brought Doctrine and Covenants 6:36 into my mind, which says, “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”
If we live in fear of what could happen, we will never get to experience anything, good or bad. The whole point of being here on earth is to have a body and to be tested, but the Lord also wants us to experience the great joys that He has in store for us.
A few months later as I focused on Christ and pressed forward with faith, my husband and I were sealed in the temple. Even though we have our challenges, we focus on Christ. Keeping Him at the center of my life and my marriage has made all the difference, and I have experienced more joy than I thought possible. My life has gotten better every time that I’ve put my trust in the Lord over my fears.
President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, recently taught: “There is hope in the Lord Jesus Christ. There is hope for all in this life. There is hope to overcome our mistakes, our sorrows, our struggles, and our trials and our troubles. There is hope in repentance and being forgiven and in forgiving others. I testify that there is hope and peace in Christ.”1
As we keep our covenants and strengthen our faith in Him, I know that He will bless us. I am so thankful for His Atonement, which has allowed me to heal from my trials and my past, and has given me the strength to experience courage, hope, and anticipate miracles in my future. When we keep Him as our focus, regardless of our fears, we can always have hope for our eternal relationships.

“Come over after school,” Caroline said. “I have the new CD by Alisha.” (Artist’s name has been changed.)
I gasped. “OK!” Even though Grandma was taking me shopping for my birthday on Saturday, I couldn’t wait that long. I was desperate to hear the new CD right away.
Alisha was my hero. Caroline and I pretended to be her, holding hairbrushes like microphones and singing along with her music. Sometimes Mom asked us to keep it down, but she didn’t mind our noise that much because Alisha’s lyrics were so good. Alisha was religious—I had read it in a magazine.
After school I hurried to my room and finished my homework. Alisha’s smile beamed down at me from the poster tacked above my desk.
When I finally bounded across the street to Caroline’s house, she handed me the CD cover and bubbled, “Isn’t she so pretty?”
I nodded, but my stomach felt funny. Alisha wasn’t smiling this time; her expression was more like a sneer. And I had never seen a photo of her dressed like that.
“Don’t you think her outfit is a little immodest?” I asked.
Caroline frowned. “Yeah, but maybe her church doesn’t care about stuff like that. She probably doesn’t know any better. Now listen—this is my favorite song.” She pushed the play button as I skimmed the lyrics printed in the CD jacket. I felt relieved that there weren’t any swear words.
“See? This CD is fine,” I told myself. But a dull feeling followed me home that night.* * * *
On Saturday morning I watched cartoons, waiting for Grandma to pick me up for our shopping trip. During a commercial, an announcer said that Alisha’s new music video would be shown at the end of the program!
Mom came into the family room just as the music started. “What are you watching?” She smiled and sat down.
“It’s the new Alisha video.” I tried to sound casual.
Mom’s smile disappeared as she watched Alisha dance across the screen. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows.
I squirmed. “Just because she’s wearing that outfit doesn’t mean the song is bad.”
“Are you sure?”
I wished the video would hurry and end, but it kept going. Finally I switched the TV off. Mom was silent, watching me.
“I read the lyrics,” I mumbled. “There weren’t any swear words.”
She pointed at the darkened TV screen. “But Alisha is still sending a message. You don’t have to say bad words to drive away the Spirit.”
A feeling inside told me that Mom was right. Maybe I didn’t understand what Alisha was suggesting, but the Holy Ghost knew—and His influence had left.
I trudged to my room and looked at my poster of grinning Alisha. I didn’t grin back. Why had my hero changed?
A car honked in the driveway, so I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and ran outside.
“Hi, birthday girl,” Grandma greeted me as I climbed into her van. “Where to?”
All week my decision had been made, but now I wasn’t sure. “Let me think for a second.”
Caroline’s words about Alisha popped into my head: “She probably doesn’t know any better.” It had sounded like a good excuse, but now I knew why it wasn’t—because I knew better!
The dark feeling melted away as I realized something important. I was a daughter of God, and I didn’t need another hero. Why should I admire someone who didn’t even know who she was? “I should be Alisha’s hero,” I thought with a giggle. Grandma gave me a questioning look.
“Can we go to a clothes store?” I asked. “I’ve almost outgrown my favorite blue church dress.”
“Good idea. You look really pretty in blue.”
I smiled. I looked pretty with the Spirit glowing inside too—prettier than a famous pop star could ever be.

Meanwhile, I was going through a very difficult period in my life. One day I decided to look through some magazines in our magazine rack. Among them were several issues of A Liahona (Portuguese). I found what I read interesting.
The February/March 1986 issue contained an article about Si Peterson, a young man from Canada who is a quadriplegic (see Jeannie Takahashi, “Typical, but Unique Latter-day Saint,” 22). I was particularly impressed by the faith and perseverance of Si’s mother.
About that same time, January 1988, my younger daughter, Monica, suffered an appendicitis attack and was in terrible pain. The doctor said she needed emergency surgery. Marcella and I took her to the hospital and comforted her the best we could. At the hospital I remembered the examples of faith I had read about in A Liahona. I thought especially of Si’s mother, Anita Begieneman.
Marcella and I held Monica in our arms. We prayed with all the faith we had. Soon we noticed the color returning to her cheeks, and she stopped crying. Amazingly, the doctor told us a mistake had been made. Monica didn’t need an operation. The three of us went home happy and grateful.
Monica and I decided to receive the discussions, and we were baptized on 19 March 1988. Marcella later served a full-time mission to Switzerland and is now married.
The examples of faith in A Liahona showed me that my former ideas about the Church were in error and gave me strength during a difficult time. In the years since these events occurred, reading the magazine has continued to strengthen my testimony.

Latter-day Saint Hwang Keun Ok worked in a South Korean orphanage in the 1960s. When the sponsors of the orphanage learned that Sister Hwang was a member of the Church, they gave her a choice: leave the Church or resign from her job. She resigned. Five years later, she opened a new home for girls in Seoul. Teaming up with Latter-day Saint missionaries, they gave concerts throughout the country that helped spread the gospel to thousands.

My youngest daughter loves her birthday. She begins planning her next birthday about 51 weeks in advance. So, it was wonderful to celebrate her 13 th birthday a few weeks ago. As part of the celebration, I took her to lunch. During our visit, we discussed the past and the future and, as part of the conversation, I asked her to share some of her earliest memories. With virtually no hesitation, she said, “Dressing up.” I thought you might like to see a few of the photos we’ve captured of her dress-ups over the years. Maybe you can see why dressing up is one of the things she remembers. These pictures provide wonderful memories for my wife and me when we see them and think about the brief time our children were small.