Gospel Story Finder

Two young boys in the Camas Ward, Vancouver Washington Stake, saved the lives of five other children in a house fire.
Jeffrey Albrechtson, 13, and Marlen Davis, 12, were babysitting the other five younger Albrechtson children when the smoke detector sounded. The boys led four of the children from the burning house. Marlen then reentered the house to look for three-year-old Justin who was in his bedroom. The smoke prevented Marlen from taking Justin out through the door so they broke a window and were pulled to safety by neighbors.
Through the children’s quick action, a tragedy was averted. All the children had been trained in fire safety and did exactly the right things under that emergency situation.

The incident made news headlines around the world. A Latter-day Saint missionary had fallen off a 230-foot (70-m) cliff in Australia—and lived! That’s like falling from the top of a 23-story building.
Sometimes a miracle can be told in a single sentence. But for Elder Matthew Weirich—the missionary who fell—every detail of his story testifies to him that the Lord has a plan for his life that he has not yet completed.
Elder Weirich, from Fredricksburg, Texas, had just three months left of his missionary service in the Australia Sydney South Mission. On a preparation day in June 2004, Elder Weirich and three other missionaries got permission to visit a local park to see some of the animals unique to Australia. On the way back from the park they saw a sign pointing to the Grand Canyon lookout. It was close by, so they decided to stop and see what the Grand Canyon looked like in Australia. It is at this point that Elder Weirich’s memory of the day ends. Days later, in the hospital, he had to ask his companions what happened next.
The group had walked to the lookout and then followed marked paths below the lookout to some caves. The path had some crude rock steps back up to the lookout, and one of the missionaries lost a shoe that had been loosely tied. The shoe rolled partway down an incline. From his position Elder Weirich could see that the shoe was caught in a bush just a few steps from the path. It seemed easy to retrieve, and he offered to get it. His companions said that Elder Weirich called out that he had the shoe. Then they heard the noise of sliding rocks. Since they couldn’t see Elder Weirich, they didn’t know what had happened. But when he no longer answered their calls, they were afraid he had fallen.
The three missionaries looked as far over the cliff edges as they dared, then prayed and went looking for a cell phone to call the police. They heard a car door slam in the parking lot and ran to ask the man who had just arrived if he had a phone they could borrow. He did, and they called 000, the emergency number.
An hour later a rescue squad arrived just as darkness was falling. It was turning cold, and the heat-seeking helicopter flying overhead could find no sign of Elder Weirich. Everyone was afraid there was no longer a survivor to rescue.
But they were wrong.
At dawn the next day searchers made their way to the bottom of the cliff. They found Elder Weirich, alive but semiconscious. They carefully loaded him into a stretcher and flew him out by helicopter. He was taken to the hospital, where the medical staff expected to work on someone with many broken bones and other serious injuries. It turned out Elder Weirich had some swelling in his brain, but the only broken bones were his nose and two small fractures above his eye, all of which were left alone to heal.
Looking back, Matt lists the miracles that helped him survive.
Before his mission, Matt had been a pole-vaulter. In fact, he was a national champion in high school and was planning on going to college on a track scholarship. Perhaps—although Matt can’t remember exactly what he did while falling—his training took over and helped him adjust as he fell so he landed in a way that reduced his injuries.
At the top part of the cliff he hit several ledges that slowed him down, evidenced by the scrapes and cuts on his arms, before he took the final 90-foot (27-m) free fall.
The weather had been below freezing every night. But on the night he spent at the bottom of the cliff, the temperature was 10 degrees warmer than usual and did not dip below freezing.
He crawled a few feet after he landed, his head ending up downhill, which may have helped maintain good circulation to his injuries.
He was rescued by experts and given excellent medical care.
His survival story created great interest throughout Australia. Suddenly people everywhere wanted to talk to missionaries. Doors were opened. Many people wondered why this apparent miracle had happened and were asking searching questions about God and the Church this missionary represented.
Matt found other blessings from this experience. He says, “This whole event has brought me closer to my family and has helped me understand the value of life. It is more than just living day to day or thinking that you’ll be able to make up for mistakes later.
“I have stopped asking why. I’m now asking, ‘What can I learn from this?’ All I know is that I was an instrument in the Lord’s hands. I have seen some of the effects on other people. I’ve come to the conclusion that the Lord has things for me to accomplish. When temptations come my way, I realize that I wasn’t saved to fall into sin. I have to remember that the Lord has a plan for us all.”
Matt Weirich has returned from his mission. He has recovered and is a pole-vaulter on the track team at Brigham Young University, where he continues his studies.

It has touched for good the lives of millions who have prayerfully read it and pondered its language. May I tell you of one such I recently met in Europe.
He was a businessman, successful in his undertakings. In the course of his travels he met two of our missionaries. They tried to set up an appointment to teach him. He put them off but finally agreed to listen. He somewhat perfunctorily accepted what they had to say. He became convinced in his mind that they spoke the truth, but he was not moved in his heart.
He decided that he would read the Book of Mormon. He said that he had been a man of the world, never given to crying. But as he read the book, tears coursed his cheeks. It did something to him. He read it again and felt the same emotions. What had been conversion of the mind became conversion of the heart.
His way of life was altered, his perspective changed. He threw himself into the work of the Lord. Today he fills a high and holy calling in the cause he has come to love.

One day at recess, my friend Brooklyn and I saw a younger girl from another grade sitting next to the wall, crying.
“What’s wrong?” Brooklyn asked.
“I don’t have any friends to play with,” the girl sniffed.
She told us her friends had moved away. Now she didn’t know anyone in her grade to play with. I felt bad for her. I knew how it felt to lose a friend.
“We know how you feel,” Brooklyn told the girl.
“Maybe after school you could talk to your mom,” I said.
The girl nodded.
“Do you have a journal or diary to write in? It helps,” I said.
We spent the rest of recess talking and giving her tips on how to make new friends.
The bell rang, and we had to leave to go back to class. I felt the Spirit helping her, and I knew I did what Jesus wanted me to do.

Elena R., 13 , also felt nervous about camp but for a different reason. She was excited to accept the Fit Challenge and to share what she was doing with her friends at school, but she was worried they might make fun of her. She invited one of her friends who is not a Church member to participate in the Fit Challenge with her, and to her surprise, the friend accepted. The two finished the challenge and went to camp together.
“I just felt like this would be a really great opportunity for her to learn about the gospel,” Elena said. “I was really excited that she was reading the Book of Mormon every day. I thought Young Women camp would be a great time to learn about the Church because we’d be around girls our age who are part of the Church.”

“Father, where are you going?” George asked.
“To the duke’s court,” he was told.
“May I come too?”
“No,” his father said sternly.
George knew that his father had to be obeyed. But there were musicians at court, and George longed to hear them play. Father said that music was foolish child’s play, not work for men. George must become a lawyer and forget about music. His father didn’t know that George spent hours practicing in secret on a clavier (the “grandfather” of the modern piano).
But George needed to hear other musicians play, so he decided to go to the court at Weissenfels anyway. It couldn’t be very far from his home in Halle, (Saxony, Germany).
He watched as his father climbed into the carriage; then, as the horse pulled it down the street, George ran behind the carriage. By the time they reached the edge of town, George’s breath was coming in great gulps, and the carriage started to go faster. The distance between George and the carriage became greater, no matter how hard he ran.
Suddenly the carriage stopped. The driver climbed down, ran to the boy, picked him up, and carried him to the carriage.
“What are you trying to do?” his father scolded him. “A seven-year-old boy cannot run as far as Weissenfels. I told you that you could not come. Why did you disobey me? You may sit with the driver, but you’ll be punished when we get home.”
When they entered the castle, George heard music. He followed the sounds to a large room where a man was playing the organ. The boy listened happily until the last note died away. “May I play?” he asked.
“Only for a minute.”
George sat on the organ bench and began to play. He was thrilled at the beautiful tones that filled the room. Not until he had played the last note did the man speak to him. “Who are you?” the man asked.
“George Frideric Handel,” he answered.
“You play well. How old are you, and who is your teacher?”
“I’m seven, but I don’t have a teacher. My father doesn’t want me to be a musician.”
Just then George’s father entered the room. “I’m sorry, Your Grace,” he said to the man, who happened to be the duke, “if my son has disturbed you.”
“You are the boy’s father?” the duke asked. “He tells me that he has no music teacher. Don’t you realize that he is very talented? Get him a music teacher at once, and bring him to play for me again.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” George’s father said meekly.
When they returned home, George was sent to bed in disgrace. But the very next day Father arranged for the organist of the largest church in Halle to teach George, and he was allowed to prepare for a life in music. But George also respected his father’s desire for him to be a lawyer, and completed law school.

One young woman wrote about the lessons she has learned in her struggle to recover from an automobile accident in which she received severe head injuries.
“I didn’t know how strong I was until the spring of 1996. The incidents of one afternoon completely changed my expectations of how my education would proceed. One minute I was on a path to my future, much like every other high school student. The next minute life was no longer ordinary for me. I was on my way to strengthening myself in ways I would never have guessed. … I was on a road to relearning instead of learning. … I relearned how to eat; swallowing the food in my mouth was a hard task that I had to relearn. I went from the bed to a wheelchair to standing and walking in over a five-month period. … I have learned many great truths from my diverse trials this past year. Prayers are really answered. Fasting is a power in my family. Love has kept me alive. … I have learned what I can tolerate. … Throughout all of this I have learned that I am a lot stronger than I thought. I have learned that if you need help, it is OK to ask for it; we all have our limits, strengths, and weaknesses. … All knowledge … is ‘spendable currency’ for me. Like a baby bird broken from its shell, I am learning to fly again” (letter from Elizabeth Merkley).

This training has paid off. The Tse sisters, Ling-ling, 20, Wai-wai, 19, Mei-mei, 15, and Bing-bing, 14, know why members are referred to as “active.” Within two days of their baptism, the younger three sisters all had at least one position in the Lai Chi Kok Branch. (Ling had joined the Church when eight.) Even before they were members, they had “unofficial” responsibilities in the branch. Today Ling teaches the Gospel Essentials class for investigators and serves as a district missionary working with the full-time missionaries. Wai writes for the mission newsletter and fellowships inactive members. Bing is the Merry Miss teacher in Primary. And Mei is the Junior Sunday School coordinator. Her hardest job, she says, is convincing the children that they really can manage a short talk assignment.
Ling was the first of the sisters to join the Church. Their uncle is a member and would take her to Church when she was a child. Shortly after she was baptized at age eight, her mother forbade her to attend her meetings. Several years passed before she was allowed to return. By then she was 14, and the missionaries had retaught her the discussions. Her first Church responsibility was taking care of the bulletin board. It was through Ling that her three sisters became interested in the Church. Their parents and two younger brothers are still nonmembers, and the sisters say their greatest desire is to see their entire family active in the gospel.

Soon my 12th birthday came. I was ordained a deacon. Around this time, my family moved to Madison, Wisconsin, USA. I missed my friends but wanted to make new ones. Madison was much bigger than Manti. My new school was large. There weren’t many members of the Church. One day some popular kids invited me to a party. But the party was on the same night as a Church activity. I had learned from my experience in Primary that good things happen when I am faithful in attending my Church meetings. So I thanked them for inviting me and explained why I couldn’t come.
I am glad I went to the Church activity. The next day, everyone at school was talking about the party. Some kids had been drinking alcohol, they had damaged some furniture, and everyone who went got in a lot of trouble! I was so grateful that I had been where I needed to be.

Young Louisa tugged open the heavy door of the huge brick oven. She peered into the darkness, then jumped back in horror. Someone was crouching inside and staring back at her. Quickly her mother came to Louisa’s side and explained that it was a runaway slave that she had hidden in the oven until he could escape to freedom. Louisa understood and knew that she should tell no one about the black man whom she’d discovered. She was accustomed to having people seek help from her parents. Louisa never forgot her parents’ example of concern for others.

I ended up in the Orient, flying the same kind of bombers that my brother flew in England. My mission, as it turned out, was in teaching the gospel in Japan as a serviceman.
Perhaps the hardest challenge of war is living with uncertainties, not knowing how it will end or if we can go ahead with our lives.
I was issued a small serviceman’s Book of Mormon that would fit into my pocket. I carried it everywhere; I read it; and it became part of me. Things that had been a question became certain to me.
The certainties of the gospel, the truth, once you understand it, will see you through these difficult times.
It was four years before we could return to our lives. But I had learned and had a sure testimony that God is our Father, that we are His children, and that the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is true.

The Norwich England Stake decided to depart from their usual routine for their annual youth conference. After their Saturday activity, the youth came back to the Lowestoft Ward meetinghouse to find that some of their leaders had organized a “quilt factory” and chosen some team leaders and a factory manager from among the youth. Stations were set up for cutting, pinning, sewing, and tying, and dinner was served in shifts. After watching a Church-produced video about humanitarian aid, the youth got to work.

Their goal was to make 100 quilts from scratch. Three and a half hours later, they had completed 106 quilts, ready to be donated. The Norwich youth had a great time and felt the Spirit as they partook of the atmosphere of service at their youth conference.

When I came home for a quick weekend visit, I asked Todd about his adventure. He was kind of quiet until he started talking about his mission and the money he’d saved. When I asked him about his job, I was surprised at his answer.

“The fun house? Oh, I quit that.”

I felt a little let down. So much for the new-and-improved Todd who was sticking to hard jobs.

“How come?” I asked.

“Well, I was working a lot of Sundays, and I realized my priorities were out of whack. I mean, Jolene only ever looked at me like I was a reflection of one of those fun house mirrors, you know, with eight-foot legs and no body or a giant forehead and hardly any face. And I was like that. I was only thinking about entertaining myself, not about anyone else.”

I smiled. It was the new-and-improved Todd.

“I guess my nursery kids taught me about being concerned about others and sharing. I should have figured this out years ago. Guess I’m a slow learner,” he said, grinning at me.

I said, only half sarcastically, “Todd, who knew you were such a lovely human being?” I punched him in the shoulder.

Twenty-two-year-old Caroline Tippets sat in the congregation listening to her brother Alvah Tippets address the branch in Lewis, New York, USA, over which he presided. As with her fellow branch members, she had come to this meeting in September 1834 in fasting and prayer to hear an important message from Alvah. He read from a revelation that the Prophet Joseph Smith had received in December 1833 about how the Saints could redeem land lost when Church members were expelled from Jackson County, Missouri, a few months earlier:
“Let all the churches gather together all their moneys; let these things be done in their time, but not in haste; and observe to have all things prepared before you.
“And let honorable men be appointed, even wise men, and send them to purchase these lands.
“And the churches in the eastern countries, when they are built up, if they will hearken unto this counsel they may buy lands and gather together upon them; and in this way they may establish Zion” (Doctrine and Covenants 101:72–74).1
Alvah then opened the meeting for discussion about how the Saints in Lewis could fulfill this commandment. They decided that members should contribute whatever they could. Caroline’s brother Joseph Harrison Tippets and their cousin John H. Tippets would then take the money to Missouri and give it to Church leaders there.2 As Caroline heard these words, she decided that she would contribute what she had. As a single, 22-year-old woman, she wanted to do her part to fulfill what the Lord had asked, and she gave almost $150 as her donation.
Although $150 does not sound like much to us today, it was a significant sum of money in 1834—the equivalent of about $4,000 today.3 Who was this young woman who contributed so much money?
Caroline Tippets was born on October 21, 1812, to Joseph and Abigail Tippets in Lewis Township, New York, where her family had lived since 1805. Along with her older brother, Alvah, she had an older sister, Permillia, and a younger brother, Joseph Harrison. In 1826 their father died, and she and her siblings went to live with their cousins William and Abigail Tippets in Lewis.
In March 1832, John H. Tippets, who was working about 12 miles away, heard about the Book of Mormon, likely from Amasa Lyman, William E. McLellin, and Jared Carter, who were preaching in the area. He shared the news with his cousins. There is no record of how Caroline responded, but she must have gained a testimony of the book and the man who translated it—Joseph Smith. In May or June 1832, Caroline and the rest of her family were baptized.4
Caroline’s brothers worked in sawmills, but there is no record that tells us how she earned money. Perhaps she sewed clothing or worked in the homes of others in the area, both of which were common occupations. Whatever the case, she saved the money she earned, and her $150 contribution was about 20 percent of the branch’s total contribution ($850) in 1834 for the purchase of lands in Zion.5
After the branch decided to consecrate the money and have Joseph and John take it to Missouri, Caroline expressed a desire to accompany the two. The three left Lewis in October 1834, and in November they arrived in Kirtland, Ohio, where Joseph Smith was living. Because it was late in the season, the three decided to stop in Kirtland and counsel with Joseph Smith and the Kirtland high council as to whether they should continue on to Missouri or stay in Kirtland for the winter. On November 28, Joseph and John met with the high council, with Joseph Smith presiding. After discussion, the high council told Joseph and John that they should stay in Kirtland for the winter. Since they wouldn’t need the money for Missouri land purchases until the following spring, the high council asked them if they would be willing to loan some of the money to Church leaders in Kirtland to help with debts, some of which had been contracted as part of the construction of the Kirtland Temple.
According to the minutes of the meeting: “It was ascertained by the council [that] Sister Caroline Tippets held $149.75 of the money. … She was accordingly called into the council and expressed a willingness to loan the same. A note … in favor of Caroline Tippets of $150 [was given] due April 15, 1835, [and] signed by Joseph Smith Jr., Oliver Cowdery, and F[rederick] G. Williams.”6
Caroline’s willingness to loan the money was a great blessing to Joseph Smith and the Church at that time. The day after the meeting, November 29, Joseph and Oliver knelt in prayer and gave “thanks for the relief which the Lord had lately sent” through the Lewis branch and Caroline.7
The following spring, having been repaid, Caroline, Joseph, and John departed Kirtland for Missouri with the money. Later that year, Caroline married William Plummer Tippets, her first cousin and John Tippets’s brother. In 1836 she died giving birth to their first child, who died as well.8
Caroline’s life was short, and she is not well-known by most in the history of the Church. In many ways, she is like millions of other members who go about their lives quietly serving without recognition and without fanfare. At a time when the Lord asked Church members to contribute what they had for the redemption of Zion, she heard Him and followed His direction. Her willingness to listen to the Lord’s word through the Prophet Joseph and then act on it helped the Church in a time of need and helped her contribute to the work of the Lord.

As I was preparing this talk, I received an unexpected email from someone in the process of repenting and desiring to return to the Church. His former wife was still suffering from the loss “of [their] eternal marriage, [difficulties with the children], the loss of financial security, … not [being] quite able to keep up with expenses, [and] the deeply suffocating feelings of being betrayed.”

He shared with me how his priesthood leader “felt impressed to [ask him] to prayerfully consider what [more he could do for his former wife and children].” With permission, I share a part of his email:

“I [first] thought the [money] I gave up in the divorce decree was more than generous, but my branch president encouraged me to fast and pray about it. …

“Initially, I struggled with the idea of further restitution. Since my sins weren’t financial, I wondered what a ‘generous restitution’ truly meant … [but] I soon realized it wasn’t just about money.

“My priesthood leaders met with [my former wife] and my children and realized they were still struggling and hadn’t healed. …

“My new goal was to move forward with faith. … I simply expressed my desire to help with no strings attached. … I decided to [send my former wife a specific amount] per paycheck, which was a significant portion of my net pay. Just before making the first payment, the Lord [impressed upon my mind that I needed] to pay [twice that amount].

“I’ve learned that restitution isn’t just about money. It’s about humbly dedicating my life to the Lord. … The money is to help replace what I took from my family due to my poor choices. It’s about making and keeping promises without expecting anything in return and helping her not worry about bills so she can seek the Spirit.”

Your efforts to restore what you have broken may have nothing to do with money, but as you humbly counsel with the Lord, you may find there is more you can do.

The son of a white mother and a part-Maori father, Rei grew up in Gisborne, on the east coast of New Zealand’s North Island. Though his family was poor, they were hard working. As a young boy Rei helped his parents gradually enlarge their small dairy farm by clearing portions of the thick native forest and bush that ringed their home. Each morning and evening his father and mother gathered and knelt with their large family on the carefully swept dirt floor of their home for family prayer. The sounds of the kiwi, the weka, and the rustle of the leaves in the huge native trees lulled him to sleep each night.
As a young man he went into the Urewera area to split posts in the sparsely settled forest area for sheep stations. Working with many full-blooded Maoris he learned the ways of the forest. He grew to love the native flora and fauna and the land itself. After years in the forest he knew the shape and color of each leaf. Even the insects received his careful scrutiny.
But Rei was no nature-loving recluse. He loved his fellowmen as well. Shortly after his marriage a close relative died. Rei and his new bride accepted the responsibility of becoming the parents of the orphans. Some years later his wife caught typhoid while nursing a sick child after a disastrous flood and died.
Eventually Rei remarried; his new wife was a shy, beautiful young Maori widow. She became a warm and loving mother to her instant family of ten children. Together, she and Rei had four more children, in addition to foster children. To date, the Hamons have been parents to thirty-one children, many of them orphans.
For over forty years Rei lived and worked in the forest. Then a serious back injury ended his days of heavy physical labor, confronting him with financial ruin and a depressing life of inactivity. One morning after the children had gone to school, he and his wife knelt in their bedroom and prayed for a solution to their predicament. As they rose from their knees Rei noticed that their six-year-old daughter had left for school without taking her ballpoint pen and drawing pad. He picked it up and began to draw, something he hadn’t done since his early days in primary school. It was an inspired beginning.
With much practice he developed a unique and unorthodox style—which combined the meticulous attention to detail of Van Eyck (1370?–1440, Flemish painter with the technique of such French pointillists as Seurat (1859–1891)—arrived at completely on his own. He used few strokes in his drawings; the vast majority of each piece was made up of tiny dots formed from tapping his pen on the paper or parchment.
Feeling embarrassed with his first drawings, Rei hid them. But his wife found them and took them to a local photographer to be photographed. The photographer was impressed with their quality and took them to the director of a leading art gallery in Auckland, who immediately wanted to stage a show of Rei’s work. He also introduced the artist to mapping pens with very fine points. This enabled Rei to develop the control to do the superb detail in his works for which he has become famous. His new career was launched. Since that time he has exhibited his work in nearly every major town and city of New Zealand. Recently he returned from a 19,300 kilometer tour of the country, exhibiting his work and lecturing about the native New Zealand environment for which he has become a major spokesman. Rei is now nearing his hundredth exhibition in nearly thirteen years. Recently he received an invitation to tour Russia, lecturing about conservation and exhibiting his art.
The drawing that was presented to the queen represents a union of Rei’s art with his attitudes toward nature and conservation. The forest and mountains that surround the Lagoon of Okarito, depicted in the drawing, are the last nesting place of the kotuku, or white heron. The kotuku is sacred to the Maoris; and the Maoris showed their high regard for Queen Elizabeth several years ago by giving her the name “Te Kotuku Rerengatahi.” (“The Rare White Heron of Single Flight”). The large trees in the drawing—the matai, the totara, the kahikatea, and the kauri—are representative of the magnificent podacarp forests that surround the lagoon. The limb upon which the birds portrays the hand of man—the hand that holds the destiny of these birds, bringing either survival or destruction. The upraised limb symbolizes the raising of the right hand in sustaining action for those who are working to preserve the New Zealand heritage. Nestled in the “palm” are four small flowers, symbolizing the most precious blessing of all—children—who should be loved and protected by their parents. It is a plea for protection of the environment as one would protect one’s own family. Much of Rei’s art contains this kind of message.
Rei Hamon draws only scenes of native flora and fauna of the forest. He does not portray New Zealand farms and towns, which have more in common with such scenes in other lands. Seeking our ancient gnarled trees, vines, and ferns, as well as leaves and insects, he expresses his love for the unique, natural heritage of New Zealand. Rei has also written and published poetry expressing his attitudes.
Rei paints directly from his vivid memory. Often he works late at night, in the solitude of his room, while his family sleeps. On one such occasion, he wrote, “My mind is taken into the mystic depths of the environment I love so deeply. … One’s mind, while in this high pitch of thought, unconsciously removes that thin veil which separates the conscious and the subconscious, enabling one’s creative and composing ability to rise above one’s own normal capabilities … I am conscious of a greater power, another hand besides my own.”

Františka Brodilová joined the Church in Vienna in 1913—a year before the start of World War I—and didn’t have contact with other Church members until 1929.
Portrait of Františka Vesela Brodilová courtesy of Visual Resources Library
Františka Brodilová could hardly have foreseen the role she would play in Church history when a missionary knocked on her door in Vienna in 1913. The year after her conversion, World War I engulfed the Austro-Hungarian Empire, missionaries returned home, and many male members were called into military service, leaving Františka and a few other sisters to meet on their own.
It was the most contact Františka would have with Church members for many years. After the war, Františka’s husband, František, was promised a post in the new government of Czechoslovakia. After they moved to Prague, Františka was the only member of the Church in the country. František passed away a few months later, and Františka was left with two young daughters—Frances and Jane—to provide for.
On her own, Františka taught her daughters the gospel. “I was raised in the Church,” Frances recalled. “The church was our home!”1 Františka also wrote to Church leaders in Austria asking that missionaries be assigned to Czechoslovakia. Church leaders were reluctant because the last missionary in Prague, some 40 years earlier, had been jailed for preaching and then banished from the city. Despite the new government, Church leaders feared that little had changed.
Undeterred, Františka continued writing letters and praying for a mission to be established. In 1928, after Františka had been on her own for a decade, 83-year-old Thomas Biesinger—the same missionary who had preached in Prague years before—returned. It seemed that the family’s isolation had come to an end. A short time later, however, Elder Biesinger’s declining health forced him to leave the country.
Františka was discouraged but decided to keep writing letters to members and Church leaders abroad. Her perseverance was rewarded: on July 24, 1929, Elder John A. Widtsoe (1872–1952) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles arrived in Prague with a group of missionaries. That evening, Františka and the group climbed a hill near Karlštejn Castle, where Elder Widtsoe dedicated Czechoslovakia for the preaching of the gospel and formally organized a mission. “Few people can realize the joy we experienced,” Františka later wrote. “We [had] been praying for years for this day.”2
Františka was present when Elder John A. Widtsoe (both in the middle row) dedicated Czechoslovakia for the preaching of the gospel in 1929.
For nearly six months, the branch met in Františka’s home. Františka eventually assisted her daughters in translating the Book of Mormon into Czech and laid a foundation for the Church in what is now the Czech Republic.

Kate T., in California, USA, is like most other high school students. She spends a lot of time studying for her classes and playing sports. “High school, by design, is a lot of thinking about yourself,” she says. But she’s learned it’s important to take time to think outside yourself. So she decided to start a service club at her school.
Kate applied to the school administration for a Just Serve Club (linked with the website JustServe.org and the Just Serve app). But she got some pushback, and the club application was rejected. It took more effort, but Kate and some friends were able to get the club started.
At first the club had about 25 people and were able to do about 15 projects a year. They meet regularly at school during a lunch hour, and they do at least one service project a month. For example, they have cleaned up a beach, packed boxes at the local food bank, and decorated a youth shelter for Christmas.
Now Kate works together with her friend Anna Q. and a club council to plan projects. Council members are recruited from the high school and represent a diverse group of different faiths.
“Our projects usually come from the Just Serve app,” says Anna. Once the council chooses a project, the details are planned and shared with club members during a meeting and on the club’s social media page.
The club has grown, and now the group is able to work on many more projects to benefit the community.
Something Kate and Anna have discovered is the personal benefit of service. “The more you do to give back to your community, the closer you are going to feel to the Savior,” says Kate. “When you can look outside yourself and think about the Savior, you will feel His Spirit because that is what His whole life was about.”
Anna has found there is more happiness in serving others. “My love for those around me increases every time I serve alongside or for someone,” she says. And service has helped strengthen her relationship with Heavenly Father and the Savior. “The more I serve like Christ did, the more I become like Him and feel His love.”

Another convert expressed it this way: “As my husband and I were baptized, I had no idea just how involved we would become. My first calling was that of chorister in sacrament meeting.
“Then I was asked to be a Mia Maid leader. I asked the question, ‘What is a Mia Maid?’ I learned from experience. That is a girl at the delightful age of 14. The girls have so much enthusiasm and energy. I am thrilled with my calling in MIA. It keeps me feeling young and needed and busy.
“My husband, too, has held many positions in the ward, and his determination and dedication have been a strength to me.”

“She’s just a better version of me.”
Months after coming home from my mission in California, this thought was still tormenting my mind. There hadn’t been a day that went by without me thinking about my mission and who I was while I was serving. “Mission-me,” as I called this past version of myself, was better than my current self. Mission-me prioritized the gospel over everything else. She was kind, selfless, and acted on what she knew was right.
The current me?
She was different.
My scripture study habits had all but gone out the window. My prayers were sporadic at best, and though I was still attending the temple and church weekly, I knew I could be doing better at inviting the Spirit into my life.
But no matter how many times I tried, it seemed I could only keep up my spiritual habits for a couple of days—a week at most—before failing. I knew how much I loved the gospel and my Savior, but for some reason, I just couldn’t grow into the person I wanted to be.
I finally felt relief after nine months of being home. I was attending an institute class, trying desperately to learn from The Divine Gift of Forgiveness, a book by Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Just then, a paragraph jumped out at me.
It reads, “If we find ourselves temporarily facing setbacks, we don’t become discouraged. We focus on our love of the Savior and His love for us, and we move forward. Week by week, year by year, our repentance and resolve draw us closer to Him.”
I froze—his words felt like they were meant specifically for me.
I knew that through His Atonement, Jesus Christ could help me. I had faith that He was cheering me on, but I’d been missing one key detail: timing.
See, God wasn’t expecting me to be perfect right then. That’s the whole reason Christ atoned for us. God knows that we will never be perfect in this life, and He loves us so much that He sent His Only Begotten Son to save us.
Instead of trying to become perfect right then, the Savior’s enabling power could help me continue to grow over the course of a lifetime. Week by week, year by year. The best version of myself was going to take my whole life to develop—that’s how it’s supposed to be, as we learn to walk with Him.