Gospel Story Finder

Together Again on Monday Night
It was Monday again, and the Veras family of the Gazcue Ward, Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Stake, was learning about the importance of listening to the prophet. Eight-year-old Shantalle led the singing. Four-year-old Yeraly helped her mother, Awilda, tell the story of Noah and the ark. Aaliya, two, was content sitting with her father, Nelson, as he bore testimony of President Gordon B. Hinckley.
Brother Veras’s rendition of “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” sent the three girls into peals of laughter. A prayer followed, then treats.
Family home evening had turned the Veras family’s cramped downtown Santo Domingo apartment into a peaceful haven five stories above the busy street. “I love being with my family,” Shantalle says of family night.

Some years ago, while on a family vacation, my wife, Pat, and I enjoyed a picnic lunch with our four small children in a city park somewhere in the middle of Kansas. When it was almost time to be on our way, a man approached Pat’s side of the car and asked if he might have something to eat. We nervously glanced at each other and then said no. The man thanked us and sat down at the table we had just left.
Suddenly, I felt heartless. I realized that I might have misjudged someone who may have truly been in need. Now I did want to help him.
When I expressed these feelings to Pat, she seemed relieved. “We do have plenty of food,” she replied. “I’ll prepare a plate, and you can take it to him.” She fixed a heaping portion.
The man was pleasant and friendly and seemed unconcerned when I apologized for our earlier response. He thanked me for the food and said he was returning from the wheat harvest in the Dakotas and hadn’t had anything to eat for a long while.
It was a simple thing, so simple that it makes me ashamed to think I yielded to my first impulse to say no.
From experiences such as these, each of us can begin to perceive the difference in the way we feel after we have been selfish or generous. Certainly, we all want to feel the latter more often—and we can do so as we give of ourselves to others.

It was Friday night and football season at my high school. As drum major of the marching band, I was having a great time cheering with the band and directing stand tunes. Then things changed drastically when I heard a desperate cry: “Get help! Jeff has stopped breathing!”
I found Jeff, a tuba player, lying across a bleacher, slipping in and out of consciousness and gasping for breath. Suddenly the all-important football game faded from significance. My number-one priority was to get help for Jeff. Paramedics arrived, and it wasn’t until after Jeff was safely on his way to the hospital that I even thought about checking the scoreboard.
After the game I realized that too many times in my own life I have allowed myself to get so involved in a fun yet unimportant event of life that I failed to recognize someone’s spiritual cry for help. During the football game it bothered me to watch Jeff struggle for breath and hear the cheers and laughter of fans that had no idea that anything was wrong.

The home screen of my tablet shows apps in order of recently opened to last opened. As I was looking through it one day, I noticed that my scripture app was last. I thought nothing of it, but several weeks later I was on my tablet again and realized that I hadn’t read my scriptures in a while. I decided to start reading them again. Since then I have been studying and reading my scriptures every day. It has definitely helped me grow spiritually. I have a testimony now that the scriptures are true and that they can help me get through hard times. So, now every time I go into my tablet, the first app it shows isn’t a game with enraged birds or a video app but my scriptures!

La Verne California Stake
As the 100th birthday of the El Buen Pastor Church in Pomona, California, approached, the congregation had concerns about the state of its building and premises. Looking for a chance to help a neighbor, the youth of the La Verne California Stake decided to pitch in and spruce up the church for its celebration. El Buen supplied the paint and the LDS youth came with a willing attitude, painting the church’s exterior in only four hours. The youth tore out old carpet, sanded and repainted the pews, and landscaped the grounds. Many members of the El Buen Pastor Church were touched by the service, and one parishioner, a member of the Pastor Church for more than 60 years, said she was so grateful to the LDS youth who restored their church to its former beauty.

The teacher nurses a knife wound in her back. Gladys Saiah is not much older than her students. She and her sister were running an errand for their mother in an unfamiliar part of town when she was attacked and stabbed by a group of men. Gladys and her sister were fortunate; they were allowed to leave without further injury.
“As my sister and I began walking home,” she says, “I told Ellen we must first thank Heavenly Father for sparing our lives. We did, and then, arising from our knees, I asked Ellen, ‘Now will you please clean my back?’”
Though life in Soweto can sometimes be dangerous, the dangers are pushed into the background once the opening hymn and prayer start seminary. Class begins with scripture mastery, and each student recites a scripture word for word.
“And the Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them” (Moses 7:18).
“But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7).
Soweto seminary students know the Lord helps them through the scriptures. Lucky Ndhiela knows his faith spared him a severe beating.
“One day our school teacher was very angry with our class,” says Lucky. “He said he had explained a science principle to us, and the other students said he had not. A still, small voice whispered in my ear, ‘You know it, Lucky—the teacher did teach us that.’
“So I raised my hand and said in front of the whole class, ‘You did teach us that.’ I felt so happy to say it.
“But the whole class shouted, ‘He did NOT!’ The teacher became very angry and started hitting them all, one by one. I sat near the back of the class, and while he was busy punishing the students in front, I bowed my head and began to pray.
“I remembered my scripture mastery, Proverbs 3:5–6 [Prov. 3:5–6], and said to myself, ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
“When the teacher came to my desk, his voice changed. His face changed. He said, ‘Lucky is praying to his God. I forgive him.’ He did not punish me, nor any others that day. That is how I know it is important to apply the scriptures in my life. My prayer was answered!”
Studying the Old Testament together had great impact on Soweto’s seminary students. Scenes like this one, described by a teacher, Leadh Vilakazi, are not uncommon:
“When we got to the story of Moses, everyone wanted to know everything concerning him. It was a wonderful feeling, as if Moses were among us.
“But the sad moment started when Moses was told he would not be allowed to enter the promised land, after all he had been through, and the faithful heart he had, and his hard work in leading the Israelites.
“‘Oh, what a painful and upsetting thing,’ my students grieved to me. And it was even a greater blow when the scriptures said Moses died. Everyone’s heart was moved, as if Moses had departed from us, and it was silent for a moment.
“When I looked at the students’ faces, tears were about to fall. Some of them looked down—they could not look at me. I heard one of the students say, ‘We now know that we had such a wonderful leader.’
“Another said, ‘Why don’t we sing “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” ?’
“Then came another voice. ‘Oh, yes—just to thank our Heavenly Father for our beloved prophet for the last time.’ And so we sang, with our tears.”
Seminary student Girly Mbuli explains how her faith and love of the scriptures saved her from a terrible situation.
“One day my friend Tiny Gugu and I had to go to Zondi to take some books to another girl. On our way back we saw a gang of boys. Gangs here rape girls, steal cars, do everything horrible. We started to run, but it was too late.
“The boys faced us. They had weapons. They made us go up on a hill and meant to do awful things to us. On the way up the hill, I was saying a prayer to my Heavenly Father. I don’t remember which scriptures I tried to say, but I kept thinking of them. I asked for help to be calm and not afraid. I felt peace come into my heart.
“When you are on top of that hill, you can see everything. The boys looked down and asked where I was staying. I pointed to Jabulane, and something told me to say I was staying with my grandmother and my friend Lindiwe.
“The leader looked at me and said, ‘You are not afraid. Let them go!’ I later found out that the brother of my friend Lindiwe is the boss of this gang, and he stays in the house of my grandmother. That is why they let us go free.
“When I tell this story to people, they refuse to believe we survived. But I did, and I know why. It was because of my faith in Heavenly Father. I know that Isaiah 1:18 [Isa. 1:18] can be true for those guilty gang boys, if they will repent: ‘Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.’”
Many people would be amazed at Girly’s charitable attitude. They would view Soweto as a terrible place. But Soweto is where these seminary students have received the gospel of Jesus Christ. Through study, prayer, and faith, they have found hope, confidence, courage, and love.
“I want to tell everyone not to forget their Heavenly Father, wherever you are,” says Girly. “He won’t forget you. He didn’t forget me.”

At first, I didn’t really understand what my dad was doing those mornings when he prayed for me. But as I got older, I came to sense his love and interest in me and in everything I was doing. It is one of my favorite memories. It wasn’t until years later, after I was married, had children of my own, and would go into their rooms while they were asleep and pray for them, that I understood completely how my father felt about me.

There’s one in every school. You know the type. The girl who seems to live a charmed life. Everything she touches—schoolwork, friendships, extracurricular activities—turns to gold. You wonder what her secret is and hope that maybe a little of whatever it is will rub off on you. But deep down inside you wonder if you can ever really be like her, because people like that seem to only come one at a time.
The Laurels in St. John, New Brunswick, Canada, however, seem to have misunderstood that “rule.” Instead of only one shining star in their school, all the Latter-day Saint girls are recognized on campus.
Take Sacha Koumbias, for example. She is student council president and works on a committee to build school spirit. Melissa Spragg loves to be in school musicals and plays. Virginia Clark—Ginnie to her friends—stands alongside Melissa in two of the school’s choirs and is a great dancer. Finally, Erin Robichaud was recently selected as the high school’s student of the year.
You might expect that in a group like this, there would be fierce competition, maybe even a little jealousy. But instead of jealousy there is support; instead of competition, encouragement. The girls say that when there are only four of you in a school of 1,000 students, there’s just no room for anything but good feelings and a lot of help from each other.
Being a member of the Church is what life is all about for these girls. When they talk about what excites them the most, it’s not an upcoming school dance or game; it’s the dedication of the Halifax Nova Scotia Temple. So, if it’s not what defines them, why spend time on all that extracurricular stuff?
“People at school know who we are,” says Melissa. “I think all of us feel a little bit responsible to stand out so that people will know Church members are good people.”
The high-profile activities these girls are involved in also afford them many opportunities to share the gospel.
“My friends always want to know why I don’t drink,” says Sacha. “I think that sometimes they think it’s a little weird, but they seem to respect us.”
That respect comes in handy when the girls are defending what they believe in at school. Like the time Sacha and Erin talked in one of their classes about how important marriage is, despite the fact that the rest of the class seemed to think that “a piece of paper” wasn’t necessary for people in love. Or the countless times Ginnie has told classmates that she does not now, nor will she ever, smoke cigarettes.
“When you face a bunch of people telling you that what you believe is silly or strange,” says Erin, “it’s nice to know that you’re not the only one who thinks a certain way. It helps you stay strong.”
Life isn’t always smooth sailing, even for these girls. Of all the problems this group has faced, they agree that Erin’s was the most dramatic. During a youth conference trip to the Toronto Ontario Temple a few years ago, Erin noticed that she was suddenly covered with what looked like huge bruises from head to toe. But she hadn’t been injured, or even jostled, in any way. It was only a matter of hours after she discovered these bruises that Erin was in a hospital in Ottawa—a day-long drive from St. John. She had acute lymphoblastic leukemia.
“Since I was so far away, I lost touch with friends from school, but Melissa and Sacha both came to see me,” she says. The years following weren’t always easy. Erin’s treatment was aggressive and tiring.
“Your perspective really changes after something like this,” she says. “Having good friends, good family, and the gospel is really what’s important.”
That support group comes through for less dramatic problems, too. Melissa dated a nonmember for a while. Melissa says they were too serious, and she felt that it wasn’t leading her toward the temple marriage she has as a goal.
“I knew I needed to end it,” says Melissa. “It was really tough, probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I knew it was the right decision, though, and the girls really helped me through it.”
Ginnie and Sacha have struggled with the stress that comes with the busy lives they lead. When things get too stressful, they know they can turn to their friends for understanding.
“It helps me to know that my friends are worried about the same things I am, especially getting good marks in school,” says Ginnie. “It doesn’t seem so bad when I know that they worry too.”
Soon the girls will be graduating from high school and receiving all the honors and accolades that girls like them typically get when they graduate. But that’s not what these girls will remember most about their years together. They’ll remember fun and good times, things like slumber parties, youth conferences, and stake dances. They’ll remember girls’ camp and testimony meetings. They’ll remember that they are daughters of Heavenly Father and that they had sisters in the gospel to help them stay strong.
No one ever told these girls that in order to win, everyone else would have to lose. Instead, they help each other, pushing and pulling until everybody reaches the top. And, not surprisingly, they not only make room for the four of them, but they always leave a little extra space, just in case someone else would like to join them.
Not long ago, there was a new addition to the Laurel class in St. John. Nathanielle Pître, who speaks French as her first language, doesn’t attend the same school as the rest of the Laurels. Instead, she attends a French-immersion school (her family is from French-speaking Quebec). Nathanielle, the only member of the Church in her school class, says she relies on the strength she draws each day at seminary.
“Sometimes it’s hard to be the only member at school,” she says. “But going to seminary, being with the other kids my age, really helps me feel good all day.”

I had the blessing of growing up in a small branch. Because our numbers were few, the youth were called upon to actively participate in all aspects of the branch. I was very busy and loved feeling useful. On Sundays I officiated at the sacrament table, served in my priesthood quorum, and functioned in various other callings. During the week I often accompanied my father and other adult priesthood holders as we home taught members, comforted the sick and afflicted, and helped those in need. No one seemed to think I was too young to serve or even to lead. For me, it all seemed normal and natural.
The service I rendered during those teenage years helped me build my testimony and anchor my life in the gospel. I was surrounded by good and compassionate men who were committed to using their priesthood to bless the lives of others. I wanted to be like them. In serving with them, much more than I realized at the time, I learned to be a leader in the Church and also in the world.

Sometimes the Lord works in other ways. Sister Sampson-Davis of Ghana was inspired to translate the Book of Mormon into her native language of Fante before the Translation Division was even assigned the task. While growing up, Sister Davis enjoyed associating with Christians. As a youth, she was so impressed with and grateful for Christ’s sacrifice that she felt a strong need to do something for him. Almost forty years later, after learning English in the Netherlands and returning home to Ghana, where she joined the Church, she found an opportunity to accomplish her girlhood desire.
One night after attending sacrament meeting, Sister Sampson-Davis realized that some of the people in the congregation did not sing from the hymnbook because they did not know English. She felt impressed to translate gospel materials for the benefit of her people, and that night she translated “I Am a Child of God.” The translation of other hymns followed.
Encouraged by accomplishing these small works of translation, Sister Sampson-Davis felt led to the enormous task for which she had been prepared over many years—translating the Book of Mormon into Fante. When the Church’s Translation Division reviewed Sister Sampson-Davis’s translation of the Book of Mormon, they were astonished that this schoolteacher, with little or no professional translation experience, had produced an excellent translation with a high degree of accuracy.
Sister Sampson-Davis is an example of the quality and dedication of translators the Lord has prepared, and is preparing for use by the Translation Division. Currently, the Division is working on translating doctrinal material in at least one major language for every nation of the world. This project, approved by the First Presidency in 1986 and called the Every Nation program, will result in reading material in many additional languages over the next few years.
The “every nation” title of the program is derived from a 1978 talk by President Spencer W. Kimball in which he said:
“If we only make a small beginning in every nation, soon the converts among each kindred and tongue could step forth as lights to their own people and the gospel would thus be preached in all the nations before the coming of the Lord.” (Regional Representatives seminar, October 1978.)
Eb Davis, director of the Translation Division, says of the program, “The Brethren are inspired in their direction of this work. Initially, we thought that many of the languages of the Every Nation program were so rare that we would have difficulties finding translators, but we discovered that the way was prepared for us. For example, we found twenty members of the Church from the Seychelles—islands between India and Africa—who could help us. We have forty members from Uganda that we can call upon, and we located four people in the Salt Lake Valley who speak Ethiopian.”
Lowell Bishop, who oversees the work in African languages, says that most of the translators for these languages have been members of the Church for only as long as the Every Nation program has been operating. He adds that for almost every language the Division has worked with so far, a member has indeed “stepped forth” to do the translation.
As an example, Brother Bishop describes the members the Division found to translate materials into two of the languages of Zaire—Lingala and Tshiluba. Church materials are translated into Lingala by Alfonse and Maguy Muanda, in addition to their being actively involved as stake missionaries and operating their own business.
Tshiluba is the native language of Ambrose and Louise Massala, but in their college days they lived in an area of Zaire where Swahili is spoken, and that became their daily language. Shortly after they were married, Ambrose suggested that they go back to speaking to one another in Tshiluba. Louise thought the suggestion strange because by then they had been speaking Swahili for a number of years. However, they began using Tshiluba again, and their children grew up speaking Tshiluba at home. Surprised when they were asked if they would translate material into Tshiluba, Louise said she finally realized why Ambrose was inspired to return to using a language they had almost forgotten.
But whether the language be Tshiluba, Hmong, or any of the many other languages that the Church Translation Division is directed to work with, the message must be “translated” into the daily lives of the individual Latter-day Saint. Like Brother Kua Lo, once we have the gospel, we need to share it with family members, neighbors, and friends, so that together we might all speak the eternal language of the gospel.
The importance of sharing the gospel has often been emphasized by President Ezra Taft Benson. On one occasion he said, “We are required to carry the gospel of Jesus Christ to every nation of the world … This commission to take the gospel to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people is one of the signs by which believers will recognize the nearness of the Savior’s return” (General Conference, April 1984.)

On June 15, 1987, as a member of the area presidency based in Buenos Aires, Argentina, I flew to Asunción where I met with John J. Whetten, president of the Paraguay Asunción Mission. With a few other brethren, we loaded two small trucks with a pedal sewing machine, cloth to make shirts and dresses, rice, beans, salt, and a few other necessities. We also carried with us a copy of Gospel Principles, newly translated into Nivaclé. (The Nivaclé Indians do not speak Paraguay’s predominant languages of Spanish or Guarani, but their own dialect.)
From Asunción, we traveled about 480 kilometers to the city of Filadelfia, a drive of seven hours on a good road. The next day, we traveled the 250 kilometers to Mistolar going about 15 to 25 kilometers per hour over an extremely rutted, dusty road. Even a sprinkle of rain would have turned the road to mud, preventing us from reaching the settlement. This shorter section of our journey took almost nine hours.
When we arrived at Mistolar, we were warmly welcomed by mostly women and children. I asked where some of the men were and was told they were hunting. When I asked what the men were hunting the sisters said, “Anything.” (Some of the men walk the twenty-kilometer round trip to the river to fish.) The settlement’s surviving livestock included three sheep, a few chickens, a couple of goats and a scrawny dog. With little nourishing food or clothing saved from the floods, these Saints shivered in the 20 (C) degree winter weather of June. At night, their stick-and-reed homes offered little protection from freezing temperatures of 0 to 5 (C) degrees. The other eleven months of the year are extremely hot—often over 48 (C) degrees.
But in spite of all of the hardships they had endured for months, the Mistolar Saints were without one single complaint. There wasn’t one sad face. Not once did they do anything but smile.
They offered to kill one of the sheep for a meal that afternoon and we politely declined. Nevertheless, they insisted. We ate sparingly of the meat, knowing they would use anything we left.
I asked the young president of the Mistolar Branch, “Do you have any sick among your members?” (The people in this land die at an early age. Statistically, of 200 Nivaclé, only eleven will die of old age; the rest will die of disease.) He looked at me, paused, and said, “I don’t think so; let me ask the other brethren.” A few minutes later after conversing with two of the brethren, he said, “My brethren told me, ‘Of course we have no sick.’” He added, by way of simple explanation, “There are thirty-nine of us who hold the Melchizedek Priesthood. We watch over and bless our people.”
I asked, “Do you have any members who are not quite as active as the rest?” He said, “Elder Brewerton, of course not. We have accepted the Lord through baptism. We are all true Saints, totally active in our worship of the Lord.”
For the evening meeting, I asked the branch president to find some members to pray. One sister talked to the Lord in very a personal manner saying, “Father we have lost our beautiful chapel, we have lost our clothing, we no longer have homes, we have no food to eat, we don’t have any materials to build anything, we have to walk ten kilometers to get a drink of dirty river water and we don’t have a bucket. But we desire to express to you our gratitude for our good health, for our happiness, and for our Church membership. Father, we want you to know that under any conditions we will be true, strong and faithful to the covenants we made to thee when we were baptized.”
We visitors were very humbled by their example of faith. During the meeting, we dedicated their land to the Lord. We visited each family site and saw where they would plant their gardens when the rains would come.

The leading association in French Polynesia to assist jobless people will be benefitting from a set of self-reliance courses developed by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
In a meeting earlier this year, Marshall Raihauti, project manager and educator for Te U-irau, met with Manea Tuahu, national director of self-reliance for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in French Polynesia, to talk about their partnership.
“The people we work with often lack confidence and really have no plans for the future,” said Marshall.
Showing his Church self-reliance course textbooks with some delight, he continued, “I had the opportunity to attend a Church-sponsored self-reliance course in Punaauia in 2018 and was impressed that the program first helps people to identify their personal issues through a spiritual process.
“My motivation is to create that same turning point in them, as I have experienced it. And you can achieve it with the Spirit; that is at the heart of your empowering programs.”
He continued, “We have the expertise, we have the material, the financial resources and the appropriate training. But we are missing something that only your programs can provide. You can touch them spiritually. The Latter-day Saints have the magic that we don’t have. This is the Spirit of the Lord. It is what triggers the change of heart. And that’s the most important.”
Averii Nollemberger, coordinator for Te U’irau in Pirae, Faaa and Moorea job and training centers, said: “I liked that the person is at the center of change and that the principle of individual responsibility prevails.”
Manea presented the resources of the Church with courses such as “Starting and Growing My Business” and “Personal Finances.”
He explained the concept of self-reliance: “In the Church, self-reliance is not just about having a good job, food reserves, or money in the bank. It is the ability to provide for the spiritual and temporal necessities of life. It is a complementary, inseparable whole.
“When people become independent, they have more capacity to help others, and serving others is at the heart of self-reliance.”
Marshall concluded, “Despite all the support that we in the government have put in place, a majority of our job seekers continue to be dependent, unable to get long-term employment. What’s missing is the change of heart. I know that when you put God first, the doors begin to open.”

My husband’s only sister, Eveline, was not a member of the Church and had been writing to us about serious family problems. We worried about her depression and about our helplessness in coming to her aid.
I began to pray for her, and Peter and I went to the temple, seeking inspiration. My heart sought direction: How could I help my sister-in-law? The answer came from the Spirit: Write to Eveline about the Book of Mormon, bear your testimony, and send the missionaries to her house.
Peter remained hesitant about sending the missionaries, but I knew that it was what the Lord wanted me to do. I composed my letter the next morning and mailed it.
A few days went by with no response from Eveline. I began worrying and fretting. She had been offended, I told myself; she had hated the letter. I became so afraid of her response that I asked Peter to call her. She shared her story over the phone.
The day my letter arrived had been an especially bad one for Eveline. The problems weighing her down had seemed overwhelming, and a television show she was watching about depression and suicide didn’t ease her turmoil. She finally found relief when her son came home from school for lunch. He brought in the mail, which included my letter.
As Eveline began to read, the Spirit touched her soul. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She had been praying for someone or something to help her in these hard times, but she hadn’t known whether her prayers were being heard. Now, through this letter, she knew that her Heavenly Father really cared about her. She was overjoyed.
She told me that the peace she felt from the Spirit was so overwhelming that she didn’t know what to do or how to respond to my letter. I then challenged her to begin a daily study of the Book of Mormon, which she proceeded to do. One week later I telephoned Church leaders in the city where she lived and asked that missionaries be sent to her home.
Through her study of the Book of Mormon, and with the help of a wonderful missionary couple, Eveline found her life changing. She absorbed the missionary discussions, began living the Word of Wisdom, and noticed her marriage improve. She began to feel at peace with herself.
That happiness spilled over and affected the lives of her family. Of course, Eveline’s daily problems hadn’t disappeared. But her perspective had changed. With Christ at the center of her life, she became a new woman.
Peter never thought he would see the day when he would have the opportunity to baptize and confirm his only sister. Giving such a priceless gift to one we love so much has brought us joy beyond our expectations. The Book of Mormon was the answer.

“My story is very short. I settled on Mrs. Canfield. She’s an old friend of our family. She baby-sat us when we were little, and now she’s teaching me embroidery. She’s so warm and happy! I’d love to have her join the Church.
“It was tough deciding how to approach her. She’s very old and wise, and I didn’t want to sound like a smart-aleck.
“I stewed and fretted and finally just came right out and asked her. ‘Mrs. Canfield,’ I said, ‘would you like to learn about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?’
“She smiled kindly. ‘No, Michaelene. Churches—any church—aren’t important to me. But thank you for asking.’
“And that was that.”
“We can’t force the gospel on people,” Sister Searle said. “But you’ve given her the opportunity to choose.”
“She knows where I am, if she changes her mind,” Michaelene mused.

Things don’t always go perfectly for everyone. All prayers aren’t always answered in the way we expect. Such was the case for one Laurel who would have given anything to have her non-LDS mother at the encampment with her.
“I prayed all summer long that my mom would share this weekend with me,” she said. “She didn’t. I cried, and I felt pretty down. I saw all the love between the mothers and daughters here, and I wished I could have that too. I have a friend here who was in the same position, so we decided to kneel down, just the two of us, and pray.
“I’ve never felt the Spirit so strong in all my life,” she continued. “I knew that Heavenly Father was right there with me. I knew that I’m his daughter and that I’m loved by him.”
Her mother did not attend the encampment with her, but she was able to learn about the love of another Parent. Knowing of that love and of her own divine nature will sustain her through trials for the rest of her life, and enables her to add a magnificent blue to the rainbow.

Around then, the COVID-19 pandemic forced New Zealand into a lockdown, and all Church gatherings were suspended. “No one knew how long we would be required to shelter in place,” says Adele, “but the temple groundbreaking ceremony had to go on.” She needed to come up with an alternative for a live choir.
Adele researched the possibility of a virtual choir. “I put the idea to some professionals and was told that this kind of project would cost thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours.” It was disappointing news, which normally would have discouraged Adele, but this time was different. This time, “it wasn’t just anyone we were preparing for,” she said, “It was the Lord.” She persevered and reached out to a young filmmaker and musician in her stake: Brother Anthony Butters.
“What I loved about Anthony is that it didn’t occur to him that [something] couldn’t or shouldn’t be done.” Even though Anthony himself was not sure how to make a virtual choir happen, the challenge “piqued his interest,” Adele says. “He was willing to give it a go.”
They immediately got to work.
They knew that choir practices would be impossible during the lockdown, so they recorded the instrumentals and each vocal part of Adele’s musical arrangement for singers to learn at home. Then they put out a general call seeking members for their virtual choir.
Next, they had to somehow make sure—without the luxury of rehearsals—that all the singers learned their parts correctly. They also had to figure out how to record each singer’s vocal contribution, how to edit dozens of vocal recordings together so they sounded like one choir, and how to produce a performance video that could be broadcast on the day of the temple groundbreaking ceremony.
For Adele and Anthony, it was very much a matter of being “led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which [they] should do”1. But they pored over Google and YouTube tutorials, and courageously worked through all the obstacles that arose along the way.
The experience was difficult for the choir, too. To leave enough time for editing, the singers had only three weeks to learn the music, and then each had to make both an audio and a video recording. The challenge proved too much for some. Singing on your own is quite different from singing in a choir, and after hearing themselves recorded alone, Adele says, “I had a few messages asking if they could humbly bow out because they felt their voices weren’t good enough.” Other singers were okay with the vocal recording, but not so happy to be filmed, and several more were not comfortable at all using the technology required.
Those who persevered managed to send their audio recordings to Adele, whose next job was to begin editing them together. This required a quiet space in her house, so she had to convert a walk-in closet into a makeshift recording studio. Then, her computer and software broke down. In the middle of a nationwide lockdown, Adele couldn’t just go out and purchase new equipment.
“I became overwhelmed with the feeling that I wouldn’t be able to get my part of the job done on time,” Adele says. “I asked my husband for a priesthood blessing.”
A couple of hours later, she received an unexpected phone call from a friend in Hawaii. Adele told her friend about the difficulties she was having with the virtual choir, and he said, “I can help you.”
“I went silent, hoping I heard properly,” Adele says, “because I thought for sure he was too busy to do what would be a very tedious and time-consuming job. But he actually got excited about the challenge.”
This friend—Milton Kaka—called back the next day to announce that his boss at the Polynesian Cultural Centre, which was also in lockdown, was allowing him two weeks to work on this special project with Adele. Filled with gratitude, Adele sent a thank you message to Milton’s boss, who replied that this was the Polynesian Cultural Centre’s contribution “for our M?ori cuzzies.”
Milton joined forces with Adele and Anthony, and the audio and video recordings were finally stitched together—in enough time, even, to fix one final glitch: a singer’s footage that was missing.
Once that was sorted, the virtual choir performance video was ready to release for the temple groundbreaking celebration.

I wonder how many of you, like myself, always have a ’To Do’ list on the go? The first one I can remember doing was for my GCSEs and consisted of how many hours I should spend revising each subject. In the years since it has included tasks to do around the house, things for our family, household finances, work, church or spiritual related activities and always things to do connected to whatever calling I hold. I remember a time when I was in my early 30s and feeling utterly overwhelmed when I looked at the huge list before me. We had 4 young children, Ash was on the stake presidency and I was stake Young Women president. On that day I was prompted to read an article written by the then Young Women General President, Sister Ardeth G. Kapp, and one sentence in the talk changed the way I felt that day and in all the days since. She said, “We live in a time when we can do more, have more, see more, accumulate more, and want more than in any time ever known. The adversary would keep us busily engaged in a multitude of trivial things in an effort to keep us distracted from the few vital things that make all of the difference.”
That’s the key, isn’t it? To focus on the few things that could really make a difference. But how do we know what the few things are? Our personal relationship with the Lord and our family are probably at the top the majority of the time. But what else?
Twenty-three year old Tom Monson, a relatively new bishop, before leaving home that night, had received a telephone call informing him that an older member of his ward was ill and had been admitted to the hospital for care. Could the bishop, the caller wondered, find a moment to go by the hospital sometime and give a blessing? The busy young leader explained that he was just on his way to a stake meeting but that he certainly would be pleased to go by the hospital as soon as the meeting was concluded.
Now the prompting was stronger than ever: “Leave the meeting and proceed to the hospital at once.” But the stake president himself was speaking at the pulpit! It would be most discourteous to stand in the middle of the presiding officer’s message, make one’s way over an entire row of brethren, and then exit the building altogether. Painfully he waited out the final moments of the stake president’s message, then bolted for the door even before the benediction had been pronounced.
Running the full length of the corridor on the fourth floor of the hospital, the young bishop saw a flurry of activity outside the designated room. A nurse stopped him and said, “Are you Bishop Monson?”
“Yes,” was the anxious reply.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The patient was calling your name just before he passed away.”
He vowed then and there that he would never again fail to act upon a prompting from the Lord. He would acknowledge the impressions of the Spirit when they came, and he would follow wherever they led him, ever to be “on the Lord’s errand.”
In 1 Nephi 11:1 it says that Nephi sat pondering in his heart what he should do. He wasn’t pondering whilst reading, hunting or cooking. Nephi sat specifically to ponder and he waited for the Spirit to prompt him on what he should do.
I am currently serving in the Relief Society, so when a sister’s name comes to mind, I try to ponder like Nephi and allow myself time to pause. And then to follow the promptings that come – sometimes it’s as simple as a text to say: "Thinking of you.” “How are you doing?” “Love you" or it might be a phone call or a personal visit. What I do know is that when I have followed the promptings of the Spirit it has always been the right thing to do. I know that those I have contacted have needed to feel the love and care of the Saviour through His promptings to me.
Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf said, “In the end, the number of prayers we say may contribute to our happiness, but the number of prayers we answer may be of even greater importance. Let us open our eyes and see the heavy hearts, notice the loneliness and despair; let us feel the silent prayers of others around us, and be an instrument in the hands of the Lord to answer those prayers.”
I pray that I may always listen to my Heavenly Father as He whispers His purpose to me and that I might be brave and noble enough to carry out those things. I know the Lord lives and that we are part of the Lord’s church on this earth today. And that each of us has a special purpose to fulfil for Him at this time. We can know that purpose as we pray and follow Him in all that we do. I testify He lives and He loves us.

A couple of years ago I got into drinking. I drank as kind of an experiment. Around here there isn’t a lot to do so my friends all drink and party. I wanted to be like them, I guess. After I started drinking, I felt almost hopeless. At first I thought I was happy, that I was having fun, but I realize I was miserable. I thought, what’s the point in trying to change? I just didn’t feel worthy.
I really love football, and one day after practice I came home to find my mom sitting there. We talked about my drinking, and she called the school. I was suspended for a couple of games. That was a really big kick in the head for me—I realized I needed to change.
My family and some people in my ward helped me and made me feel loved. As I went through the repentance process, I gained a strong testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It’s so amazing to feel how much Heavenly Father loves us. It’s just crazy to me that He would send His Son to die for me when I mess up so much. You can always call upon Heavenly Father no matter what, and He will be there for you if you are willing to try and change.
I’m so much happier now than I was when I was drinking and partying. The gospel just brings you so much happiness if you turn to God and strive to improve yourself. It’s totally worth it.
Jens P., 18, Illinois, USA

Originally, our plans called for my return to teaching at a school in the western United States after completing my studies at Cornell University, in New York. But, to our surprise, the opportunity came for me to use my wildlife management training in the Arabian Gulf countries—first in Bahrain, and later in Dubai.
The ancient sport of falconry—hunting of birds and small animals with trained falcons—is still practiced on the Arabian Peninsula. In 1976, His Highness Sheikh Hamed ben Isa Al Khalifa, the Crown Prince of Bahrain, was looking for ways to combine the captive breeding of falcons with modern management techniques. He learned of my doctoral work on falcons, and that led to the job offer I received.
Bahrain is not a large oil producer, but it was there, in 1932, that oil was first discovered in Arabia. Rulers of the country have wisely used the resulting wealth to improve the lives of their people. Still, the contrasts are dramatic. Stopped at a traffic light one day on my way to a church meeting, I inspected the luxurious automobile just ahead of me while a cart donkey scratched his head on the back of my car.
The Bahrainis are well-grounded in modern life, yet the teachings of Islam play a major role in all aspects of their daily living. They are a friendly and gentle people, convinced that God is close by and aware of their needs.
Amid all that seemed different to us in Bahrain—the veiled women, open-air markets, and richness and luxury contrasting with the ancient life-style of the desert—we found the warm familiarity of fellow Latter-day Saints. With three other western families, we were part of a group of eight adults and eight children who held Church weekly meetings. Services are held on Friday in Muslim countries because that day is their Sabbath; Sunday is simply the second day of a six-day work week.
The group in Bahrain was organized into a branch in 1978, with Brother Sidney MaGill, a native of New Mexico, as the first branch president. With the arrival of other Latter-day Saints, it has since grown to thirty-five members.
After more than five years in Bahrain, my wife and I felt I had accomplished all I could at the falcon breeding center I had established there. We were thinking of returning to the United States when a similar position opened up in Dubai, one of the United Arab Emirates farther down the Arabian Peninsula. My employer wished me well and told me warmly, “We will consider you a Bahraini export and send you to Dubai.”
The position at the Dubai Wildlife Research Centre, as wildlife consultant to His Highness Sheikh Mohamad bin Rashid Al Maktoum, has given me the professional opportunity to do research on a much broader range of animals.
Unlike Bahrain, Dubai has only recently grown rich on oil, and in amounts of money difficult to imagine. Streets that were not even paved in 1968 are now lined with palaces and bordered with miles of shrubs and flowers grown with water distilled from the sea.
But the old ways are not forgotten; the sheikhs are still in touch with the people. Several times a week, my employer hosts a luncheon for anywhere from twenty to fifty men who have need to see him. We sit on the floor and eat with our hands. Some of the guests are bedouin herdsmen; others are merchants owning millions. All dress alike, and all are shown the same great courtesy. The sheikh’s guests may come to ask for help with their problems, to ask a favor, or simply to express their loyalty.
In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.
Leaders of the Arab countries in which we have lived recognize the need of workers from other nations to worship in their own way. But proselyting was not tolerated. There are occasional converts, however—nonmember spouses from western workers’ part-member families. The waters of the Persian Gulf, which welcomed the ships of Alexander the Great and other ancient mariners, are the baptismal font for these people and for the children in our branch.
Our two oldest children, Catharine and Andrew, moved with us to Bahrain in 1976 when they were small. We have since added to our family Eric Alkhalifa, born in Bahrain, and Sarah Elisabeth, born in the United Arab Emirates.
Socially, life on this peninsula has both drawbacks and advantages for our family. Women from other cultures feel fewer restrictions in Dubai than in some other countries on the peninsula, but, true to Muslim tradition, most native-born women do not mingle freely in mixed company. While this might seem restrictive in some western societies, it is not seen so by these women. The traditional Muslim family system is strong. It works very well for them, but it also limits the opportunity for foreigners to know Arab families well.
Members of the Church generally make friends with the many other foreign families in these Arab countries. (Only a small percentage of the workers in technical jobs are natives.) The ten children who attended our son Andrew’s last birthday party, for example, were citizens of eight different nations.
There are challenges to Church members here. Because of the six-day work week, for example, those who enjoy recreational opportunities—like diving in the gulf—must decide whether to give up their pleasures on our Sabbath.
For our children (and for us), there is the challenge of affluence among their associates. Catharine was one of eighty girls chosen to attend, at no cost, a private school on the palace grounds. It was built by the crown prince, who wanted his daughters to have a western education. It is staffed by teachers from England, and it operates much like any other private school—except for the month-long field trip to Europe by private jet.
In some ways, however, members here are sheltered from many evils of the world. Leaders of these Arab countries will not accept any activity that threatens Islam or the faith of its believers. For example, drug and alcohol abuse, pornography, and immodesty are strictly controlled because they are offensive to Muslim beliefs. While laws forbidding these things may seem restrictive to some, we enjoy the freedoms they provide. We adults do not have to contend with ugly influences, and we can feel confident that our children are not coming in contact with them in their schools.
Latter-day Saints and other foreign workers living in the countries of the Arabian Peninsula find their lives affected daily by the teachings of Islam. Television and other activities are interrupted during the afternoons and evenings for the call to prayers. Public gatherings begin with readings from the Koran. This book, believed by Muslims to be revelation given to the Prophet Muhammad, is the basis for all the laws in the countries of this region and contains specific guidelines for daily life.
Hospitality is one of the fundamental principles of Islam. In social or business contacts, an Arab will express sincere concern for his guests and expect them to share his proffered coffee or tea. This courtesy has allowed me to explain the Word of Wisdom to Arab men—from the king of Saudi Arabia in his palace to camel herdsmen around their camp fires. They accept my belief without offense because it is similar to their health code, which requires abstinence from pork and alcohol. Strict Muslims also do not smoke.
Once, at the request of my employer, I accompanied him on a visit to the ruler of another Muslim country. We were part of a small group of sheikhs and government officials. We dined at the palace and were flown to the ruler’s private retreat. During one of the meals, several of the Muslims ordered wine. When I declined, someone joked about my becoming a Muslim, so I explained that I don’t drink because of my religious beliefs. Their consciences pricked, two of the men urged me to join with them. His Highness, the crown prince of Bahrain—my employer at the time—silenced them, and, turning to me, said, “Joe, don’t ever change.” I have always been thankful for my employer’s appreciation of my faith.
Church members who find themselves living as guests in a foreign culture—a small minority of the population, far from the familiar things of home—might easily feel lost and alone. But the Church is almost always there. With or without a family, it will be comforting to remember that the love of our Father in Heaven, the effectiveness of gospel principles, and the ministrations of the Holy Ghost are not limited by the size of the group at worship or by the design of its surroundings. When you strive to make a chapel of your home, the Spirit will be there.

As a boy, I lived next door to the bishop of our ward, Bishop Philip T. Sonntag. His son Mark was one of my best friends. One afternoon when I was quite small, Mark and I were playing outside his home and having a wonderful time. Mark was in a distant part of the yard, when his father came outside and said to me, “Drew, do you know where Mark is?” I knew that if I told him the truth, he would say that it was time for Mark to come inside, so I shook my head. “No, I don’t know where he is.”
Bishop Sonntag went back into the house, and I joined Mark again.
“Who was that?” Mark asked me.
“It was your dad,” I answered.
“What did he want?”
“He wanted you to go inside.”
“Then I’d better go in,” Mark said.
He left, and I stayed outside. A few minutes later, Bishop Sonntag came outside again. He told me that what I had done was not right and that he was disappointed that I hadn’t told the truth.
I felt terrible as I walked home and went into my bedroom. I remember crying, kneeling by my bed, and asking Heavenly Father to forgive me. Then I got up and went back to the Sonntag home. Bishop Sonntag answered my knock. I looked up at him and said, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what I did.” He put his arms around me, picked me up, and carried me into the house. We sat on the couch and shared a nice moment together.
That experience taught me at least two valuable lessons: One, it’s important to tell the truth. Two, if we repent after making a mistake, we will feel better. I’ll always remember the outpouring of love I felt from my bishop as I visited him, trying to correct my mistake.