Gospel Story Finder

In 1998 my family moved to the Netherlands. My siblings and I attended the American School of The Hague. My mom couldn’t drive us in the mornings, so we rode the bus and train to get to school. My older sisters attended early-morning seminary and left an hour earlier than my younger brother, Shaun, and I. We made it to school easily for the first half of the year, but then the bus routes changed because of construction.
One day we were waiting for our bus when I saw one with a different number but the same destination. I thought the number didn’t matter much, so we got on the bus. After about 20 minutes, I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Shaun and I noticed we were nowhere near our school, and we both felt very lost and afraid.
We got off the bus, and I said a prayer in my heart, asking Heavenly Father for comfort and help. I had been learning Dutch in school and realized I could ask someone for help. I asked around until I found a lady who spoke a little English. She gave us directions to catch the right bus to school. Soon we were headed in the right direction and feeling much better.
I will never forget the lost feeling I felt when I realized I was on the wrong bus. I know that the Lord helped me get back on track as He does constantly in our lives—not only physically, but spiritually. We all will feel lost in life’s decisions if we are not on the right track, but the Lord will always give direction and a way for us to get back on the path toward the right destination.

“It was in the fall of the year 1857, as I remember, and a small group of Mormon pioneers were late starting across the plains. They got caught in an early snowstorm, and it slowed their travel. Many of them had become ill with colds, fevers, and pneumonia. They traveled as fast as they could, but because of the cold and sickness, they were just plain worn-out from pulling handcarts and carrying the smaller children.
“One day they came to a river that they had to cross. Everyone was so tired that the river seemed an impossible challenge. It seemed too wide, too deep, and too cold to the exhausted pioneers. One weary lady stood on the bank of the river, holding her baby as the tears silently streamed down her face. She didn’t have the strength to face one more trial that day. For a minute it looked like the journey might end right there for the small band of weary pioneers.
“Then, without saying a word, a young man waded into the cold river and made his way to the other side to see how deep it was. The icy water came up to his waist. He was certain that the handcarts were too small and too heavily loaded to carry children and those who were sick across safely. He knew what needed to be done, and he didn’t have to be asked. He knelt down with the rest of the pioneers and led a prayer, asking for strength to get everyone across safely. He was seventeen years old, and he was tall and strong, but he knew that he would need the help of the Lord to deal with the numbing cold of the river.
“The boy jumped up from the prayer and carried his sick mother across first, then his younger sister, and finally his three-year-old brother. When they were safe, he started carrying other children across. Another boy, a little younger but just as strong and nearly as tall, joined him in the cold river. The two youths carried across all the children and others who were too weak to make it through the icy water on their own. When everyone else was safely on the other side and the handcarts were across, the boys came out of the river to get dry and to warm themselves by the fire.
“Their legs and feet were blue from the cold. They got into dry clothes and wrapped up in blankets. Everyone thanked them for their help, but the boys said that they had just done what needed to be done. That night they sent everyone else to bed while they stayed by the fire to get warm. They talked about how things were going to be when they got to their new homes, but their conversation was often interrupted by muscle cramps and violent shivers. The cold water had chilled them more than they thought possible. The next morning they were still sitting there, wrapped in their blankets. When the leader of the group walked over to talk to them, he was saddened by what he found. During the night the boys had both died as they sat by the fire.
“The youths were buried right there on the edge of the river. They had lost their lives while helping others. The older boy, the one who had prayed for strength to get the others across safely, was one of your relatives. His name was Floyd. His three-year-old brother was your great-great-grandfather. When I was a little boy and Grandfather was in his nineties, he told me this story. That was when I learned that Floyd meant courage, relying on the Lord, and helping others.”

Illustration by Taia Morley
When I was 13 years old, the prophet asked Church members to read the Book of Mormon in five months, by the end of that year, and promised blessings for doing so. One day as I was reading on the bus, a girl named Cynthia sat by me and asked what the book was. I said it was the Book of Mormon and that it was a special book. I said I wanted to finish reading it before the year ended so I could receive blessings.
She started asking more questions, and I told her she could come to my house so we could talk more about it. She accepted my invitation, and we spent several hours over the following days talking about the Book of Mormon and the Church.
The next Monday, I invited her to family home evening, where I introduced her to the missionaries. They started teaching her the lessons, and she began coming to church and to all the youth activities and other Church meetings.
She decided that she wanted to be baptized, and with her parents’ permission, she was baptized on her birthday that year. She said it was the best present she’d ever received. Her mother and siblings attended the baptism. She asked me to sing “The Spirit of God” (Hymns, no. 2), and she asked my father to perform the baptism. After she came out of the water, we embraced and cried. I will never forget that day because I felt such incredible happiness.
A year later my family moved away. It was difficult because Cynthia and I had become good friends and sisters in the gospel.
Even though we don’t live close to each other anymore, we’re still great friends. We talk often on the phone, and recently she called to tell me that her mom was listening to the missionary lessons. This made me happy because before that her mom didn’t want to listen to the lessons. Cynthia told me that someday she hopes to go to church with her entire family. She thanked me for introducing her to the Church.

A number of years ago I was discussing with a group of 12-year-old girls the first line of the Young Women theme: “We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us.”
I handed out pieces of paper and had the young women write anonymously how they knew that Heavenly Father loved them. As they struggled to write, I heard such comments as “This is so hard” and “I’m not sure I do know.” I was particularly struck by Jocelyn, who had been in tears through most of the lesson. When I privately read their answers, I knew which crumpled paper was hers. She said simply, “Because He saved my mom.”
Her mother is one of my dear friends, and I too had been fervently praying for her. She had just successfully undergone surgery for a heart condition and was about to be released from the hospital when an artery in her spleen burst. Within minutes she was at death’s door. A team of doctors feverishly worked to revive her enough to prepare her for emergency surgery. Miraculous is the only way to describe her recovery. It was an answer to many prayers, including Jocelyn’s and mine. It was a powerful witness of God’s love.

Fast forward several years and thousands of miles to a chapel in the mountains of central Guatemala. As a missionary, I was attending a district conference. I had arrived early and found a piano there, so I sat down and started playing hymns. Most of the wards and branches had small electric keyboards that were hard to play, so I was very excited to play a real piano. I ended up being asked to accompany the congregation for the conference.
What changed my attitude between my younger years and my time as a missionary? I felt the power of the Spirit through music.

I know a little girl who was born with very serious cleft lips and a cleft palate. She had to have the first of a series of many surgeries on the second day of her life. Moved by a genuine compassion for those who experience this same challenge, this girl and her parents seek to give support, understanding, and emotional assistance to others who face this difficult reality. They wrote to me recently and shared: “Through our daughter’s challenge, we had the opportunity to meet wonderful people who needed comfort, support, and encouragement. Some time ago, our daughter, who is 11 years old now, talked with the parents of a baby with the same challenge. During this conversation, our daughter momentarily took off the mask she was wearing due to the pandemic so the parents could see that there is hope, even though that baby still has a long way to go in the next few years to fix the problem. We feel very grateful for the opportunity to extend our empathy to those who suffer, as the Savior does for us. We feel we ease our pain every time we relieve someone else’s pain.”

Experiencing the joy. Matt, my youngest son, and I share a birthday. He was to turn 8, and I was to turn 50. Matt wanted to be baptized by his brother on our birthday, so our home teacher took time to instruct my sons how to perform the ordinance and later attended the service. After the baptism, Matt was confirmed by the oldest in our family, a married brother.
During the program all 10 of my children, along with two spouses and two grandchildren, stood and sang “Families Can Be Together Forever.” It was a moment I will always remember. My feelings of gratitude for the gospel and the richness of the spiritual blessings that had come to me to help me, sustain me, and tutor me filled my heart. As I looked at my beautiful family and listened to the words they sang, I knew without a doubt that we were still a “forever” family.

He delighted in recounting such incidents as this:
“I had a man pointed out to me who married an entire family. He had originally intended to marry Jane, but Jane did not want to leave her widowed mother. The other three sisters were not in the matrimonial market for the same reason; so this gallant man married the whole crowd, including the girl’s grandmother, who had lost all her teeth, and had to be fed with a spoon. The family were in indigent circumstances, and they could not but congratulate themselves on securing a wealthy husband. It seemed to affect the grandmother deeply, for the first words she said on reaching her new home, were: ‘Now, thank God! I shall have my gruel reg’lar!’”

“Make it work for you.” That’s how Mia Maid Megan Ross sums up her advice about participating in Personal Progress.
But her mother, Deborah, the Young Women president of the Colfax Ward, Greensboro North Carolina Stake, adds this additional suggestion, which makes Personal Progress even more meaningful: “Use it to help those around you.”
The point is that Personal Progress can be a blessing both to you and to others. By working on six Value Experiences (three required and three elective) and one 10-hour project in each of the seven Young Women values, you can strengthen yourself as well as those around you. (See Young Women Personal Progress [2001].)
Megan and her mother point to another family member, Rachel, as an example of what that means. Rachel has already completed her Young Womanhood Recognition. She has enjoyed the self-improvement and the service to others so much that now she’s setting additional goals, mentoring others in the program (including her mother), and constantly looking for ways to help other people.
For example, one of her Value Projects was about modesty, and the ward young women all worked together on a modest fashion show. Then Rachel put together her own modest fashion magazine, using photos and ideas from the event. After that, she and her mother went to a fabric store, picked out fabric, cut it, pinned it, and sewed a modest dress.
Another time, Rachel worked with all of the young women as well as the adults in the ward to put together a cookbook. Everyone learned about cooking, shared recipes, and the adults noticed that the youth took an interest in them, too. That prompted her mother to work on a book of her own, what she calls an “heirloom” cookbook. “It includes recipes like my grandma’s recipe for rolls,” Sister Ross explains. “But it includes her photo next to the recipe so you get a feeling for her as a person.”
Megan remembers that for one of her projects, she did research on her ancestors and focused on their faith. “Before I started, I thought I realized what a blessing it has been for our family to be members of the Church for several generations,” she says. “But when I started reading my ancestors’ testimonies, that was really something. I saw how strong their faith in Jesus Christ was, right from the time they joined the Church.”
“Rachel has been a great example to me even though I’m her older sister,” Megan says. “She took the time to get her projects finished, and that’s made me work to get mine done too. But even more important is that we have two younger sisters, Allison and Sarah, and when they see how hard we’re working on Personal Progress, they know it’s important too.”
In fact, all of the young women of the Colfax Ward help each other as they work on Personal Progress. They offer encouragement and suggestions when a project is best done alone but join in when participation is a plus. Older girls and those who have finished serve as mentors for those who are younger or who haven’t finished.
“One of the best things we do,” Megan explains, “is that whenever someone receives their Young Womanhood Recognition, at an Evening of Excellence or at New Beginnings we have them show what they’ve done for their projects. But they don’t just talk about the projects. They tell how much the projects have helped them, and they usually bear their testimony. It gives the other girls lots of ideas, but it also shows them that the point of it all is to become closer to Heavenly Father and more like the Savior.”
That most important point is also clear for young women in the Lexington Ward, West Columbia South Carolina Stake. They are particularly grateful for the spiritual goals in Personal Progress. Meilian Campbell explains that there are opportunities to study scriptures, read general conference talks, and follow a pattern of prayer to see how their faith in Jesus Christ grows. Sandra Campbell says that because of those experiences, she now thinks about the Savior whenever she is sad, and that makes her feel better. Macy Adams says Personal Progress “has helped me form the habit of prayer,” and Meilian agrees. “Now I can’t go to sleep without saying my prayers. It instilled that habit in me.”
Rasha Stacey, a Laurel, sees how Personal Progress translates easily into opportunities to serve. She often helps other young women work on their Value Experiences. For example, another Laurel, Rachel Odom, set a goal of learning how to cut hair. “She cuts her own but had never done it on anyone else,” Rasha says. “So twice last year, my family invited her over. She cut all of the girls’ hair, including my mom’s. I really loved what she did, and we all had fun. It was a great learning experience—for me and for her.”
Rasha helped Macy put together a cookbook. “No one was giving her recipes,” Rasha says, “so I gave her several from our family and asked the other youth in the ward to bring some to church. Pretty soon everyone was helping her.”
When Rasha found out that Malina Tracy, a Beehive, would be the only one to move up from Primary that year, she came to her aid. “I know what it’s like to feel left out, and I didn’t want her to go through that,” Rasha says. “So I talked about Personal Progress, and I told her what I loved when I was a Beehive, and how much the other young women love her.”
Rasha also helped her sister Karen, a Mia Maid, to memorize her Scripture Mastery verses for seminary and worked with their mother to help Karen put together a memory book.
Meilian, a Laurel, was having a hard time thinking of projects, so Rasha invited her over to cook meals and desserts every Saturday for a month. “I did it for my Knowledge project,” Meilian says. “I learned to make food for my family. And now when I go to college I’ll be able to cook for myself. That helps me be self-reliant, because take-outs get expensive.”
Meilian says that Value Experiences are great because they carry over into everyday life. “At school I’m in a fashion merchandising class, and for one of our big projects we produced a fashion show,” she says. “Because we’d already talked about modesty as part of Personal Progress, I chose to wear modest clothes for the whole thing. The experiences that go with each value help you have a better understanding of how to turn values into actions.”
Macy says Personal Progress is meant “to prepare you for life through personal experiences, and to build self-confidence through preparation and spirituality.” Rasha agrees. “Take scripture study, for example,” she says. “It builds you up for when you have trials, so you know where to find answers.”
In another part of the West Columbia Stake, Sarah Shurtleff, of the Irmo Ward, also recognizes that Personal Progress encourages personal growth as well as service to others. “When we have the Evening of Excellence and the New Beginnings programs, we talk about what we’ve done throughout the year,” she says. “If I find out that other girls need help, I help them. I’m not assigned to or anything, I just help where people need it.”
She likes to brainstorm ideas with girls, leaders, and parents to come up with meaningful projects. Once she helped her mother complete a quilt for her niece and then used what she had learned to make another quilt on her own. “I’m going to save it for my own children someday,” she says. Sarah taught a friend how to play hymns on the piano, and they performed “Joseph Smith’s First Prayer” (Hymns, No. 26) at a stake talent show.
But one of the most meaningful parts of Personal Progress for Sarah is that “they have you read scriptures and write in your journal about what they mean to you. Personal Progress is about who you are—a daughter of God. I’ve learned that I can do anything I put my mind to, as long as I work hard and don’t quit.”
Sarah’s mother Catherine, the ward Young Women president, sums it up this way: “Personal Progress builds their testimonies, helps them set goals and work to achieve them, and then to feel that sense of accomplishment as they finish what they set out to do. It’s exciting to see what they are able to do. It builds faith and strengthens testimonies.”
Perhaps it all comes back to what Rachel Ross says. “Personal Progress teaches us things we need, and it builds our testimonies along the way. It’s spiritual improvement, but it’s also emotional, physical, and mental improvement. The point is it’s really well rounded if you let it be.”

I was first introduced to our church some 51 years ago in Hong Kong by two faithful missionaries, one from Hawaii and one from Arizona. Their concise presentation of Joseph Smith’s First Vision inspired me. As a 14 years old boy, I had no doubt that there is a living God. I soon wanted to join the church and be part of this wonderful organization, but my parents refused to give their permission. The Relief Society president of this small branch took upon herself the responsibility of providing me constant support and encouragement. She took me to church for Mutual Improvement Activities, presently known as Mutual Activities, and Sunday services. Could she have just assumed that teaching the gospel to an investigator was the missionary’s responsibility? Was a 14-year old boy really serious or interested in religion? Was the effort really worth the time spent with such strong opposition from his parents? After all, she had a demanding calling and several children to nurture. Not so for this good sister. She took Pres. David O. McKay’s counsel to heart. She knew what it meant of the phrase “every member a missionary.” She magnified her calling. Through her persistent effort, I received permission from my parents to be baptized a year later. The service of this sister not only brought about my conversion and baptism but of other members of my family. In the decades that followed, many others have also accepted the gospel.

“On two different occasions I have tried to approach friends about the missionary discussions but was turned down flat!” said 16-year-old Mari. “Needless to say, I was embarrassed when they let me know that they weren’t interested in finding out about our church.”
Mari is an attractive, intelligent high school student. She attends seminary and comes from a devout, missionary-minded family. And I can understand her frustration at wanting to do what the prophet has asked us to do, yet seeming to alienate good friends in her attempts to do so.
There is no question but what a successful missionary experience is rewarding, but how can we avoid the unpleasant ones? Perhaps we can’t experience 100 percent success, but let’s try a few other approaches.
Robin was just 19 years old when she enlisted in the navy and was assigned to the East Coast of the United States. Her roommate was an LDS girl whom she quickly grew to love.
“I admired my roommate’s way of life, her high ideals and standards. She stood for everything that I wanted to have in my life. I wanted to be in her company and with those who shared her standards. I wished and longed for an invitation to join in the activities of her youth group but was never given an opportunity to join them.”
A few months later Robin was transferred to the West Coast in another navy installation. Unusual as it seemed, her new roommate also proved to be an LDS girl. As they talked together on their first night it became apparent that this Church group was just as busy as the other group had been. The difference was that Robin was immediately invited to accompany her new roommate to all of these functions.
Within a few weeks Robin began the missionary discussions and was baptized. She became the best member missionary in the area and was constantly bringing fellow workers to Church functions so that they could investigate the Church. As soon as she was discharged from the navy, Robin was called as a full-time missionary.
A second experience concerns an elder serving in our mission, who gave this account of his conversion:
“During my first year in high school I became aware of a small group of fellow students who seemed to have a tightly knit bond of fellowship between them. They acted differently from the rest of the students. Their language was clean, their standards were high, even their appearance was different. They were not on drugs, and they did not smoke or drink. I admired them and tried to become acquainted with them.
“They were always having such a good time together, holding their own parties, dances, and other socials. I was told by someone that they belonged to the LDS church, but that did not matter to me. I still wanted to belong to their group.
“I hinted as much as I dared that I would like to attend some of their socials, but they didn’t take the hint. Finally in my senior year, I summoned the courage to ask them outright if I could possibly attend some of their socials, even though I was not a member of their church.
“Within a few weeks I was baptized into their church, and here I am now, about a year and a half later, on a mission for our church. When I see how difficult it is to find converts in the mission field, I wonder why these fellow students of mine found it so difficult to invite me to go with them.”
As I was interviewing the young people in our ward as their bishop, I asked each of them: “Are you dating anyone who is not a member of our church?”
“I’m not exactly dating him, but we know each other very well. We’re good friends.”
“Do you know him well enough to invite him to our student ward party?” I asked.
Susan brought Bill to our party, and our ward missionaries did the rest. Bill is now in the bishopric in Houston after having served a mission for the Church. And Bill and Susan’s experience has been duplicated all over the Church.
Does this give you any ideas? How many of your friends would like to attend your socials, your dances, your outings? How many would like to join you in all the fun times you have? Is this not an easy and inoffensive way to introduce them to the gospel of Jesus Christ? In most cases you can let the missionaries invite them to take the discussions and to teach them.
I recall when my wife and I invited our teenage sons and daughters to take a challenge, one which they accepted. They were to pray earnestly that the Lord would help them identify a person they were to help come into the Church. There would be no time limit. They were to pray and search and wait until the Spirit spoke to them, until they found that special person who would accept the invitation to either participate with them in a Church activity or to listen to the message of our missionaries.
We promised them that they would know for sure because it would be just as though the Lord were pointing his finger at that person. They were also to pray that they would know what to say to that person at the time.
One son returned in about two weeks with the story that he definitely had been impressed to approach a young man who sat by him at the university. He approached him and was turned down. Naturally he felt discouraged and questioned the validity of our project.
“Did you truly love him?” I asked. “Or were you just trying to compile a statistic? Did you have love in your heart and in your eyes when you approached him? Were you listening to the Spirit to help you as you approached him?”
“Let me try again,” our son asked. “Let me fast and pray about it. Then I’ll try again.”
After fasting and praying about it, he still felt impressed that this was the young man he should introduce to the Church. He approached him once more, this time with great love in his heart, in his eyes, and in his soul. The young man agreed to meet with our son and the missionaries to learn about the Church.
Not only was the young man baptized but his inactive wife was reactivated and their three children will now have the blessings of being reared in an LDS home.
Even a young man who was dating one of our daughters (he later became her husband) accepted the challenge to pray and search for someone who would accept the missionary message. He was directed to a friend whom he had known all his life but had never approached about our Church. Within a month this young man was baptized into the Church.
Everyone has a different approach, one that seems in keeping with that individual’s personality and that he feels comfortable with. Although the person we talk to may not join the Church now, he may accept the message later. We are convinced that some of these individuals will come into the fold sometime in their lives.
Whether we accept the fact or not, we are different from the world if we are living what we believe. Let me tell you about two of our missionaries.
It was the dinner hour, and it was raining without any sign of a letup. In spite of the rain, these two missionaries continued tracting. But let the father in one of these homes tell what happened that night:
“I had come home from work tired and hungry and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. I might also add that I dislike ‘door knockers’ and canvassers.
“I had just sat down to my dinner when the knock on the door came. I don’t know what I expected to find at the door, but I didn’t intend to be very pleasant about the disturbances at this particular hour.
“Perhaps I was too stunned at first to be angry, but for some reason or other I did not slam the door in their faces. There in the doorway stood two young men, grinning from ear to ear and literally beaming as they told me that they had a special message for me and my family. I still don’t know what prompted me to invite them to come in, except that there was something very special about them. There was an aura about them that I had never experienced before.
“I can tell you that when I invited them to come into our home, I also invited the greatest blessings that have ever come into my life and the life of my family. Yes, we were all baptized into the LDS church.”
In Doctrine and Covenants 88:67 [D&C 88:67], we are told: “And if your eye be single to my glory, your whole bodies shall be filled with light.” We are different when we are living the way the Savior taught us to live. Our bodies will be filled with light, and people will become aware of this.
A man came into the mission home one day asking to know more about our church. “I sat on a plane next to one of your members,” he said, “and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. He told me about his family and the love they had between them. His face almost glowed as he talked.”
This man was far more worldly than the average man on the street. “I know I will have to make some drastic changes in my life, but I want what that man has. My family means a lot to me,” he said.
If we live what we believe, our example may serve as an effective missionary for us and for the Church, especially for those who are searching for the “more excellent way” (Ether 12:11). There are many people who admire our way of life and our standards of conduct. They want this way of life for themselves and for their families.
Doctrine and Covenants 123:12 [D&C 123:12] tells us that “there are many yet on the earth among all sects … who are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it.” So how can we help them find it? How can we be effective member missionaries?
It just might be that your best method is to be your best self. Be friendly and be sharing. Invite those around you who are not members of our church to share with you the fun and the joy that they may be secretly wishing they could also have.
Instead of losing friends, you may develop friendships that will endure through this life and the life to come.

As a child, I woke up early during the week, and Sunday was the only day my mother would let me sleep in—that is, until the Christian congregation next door woke me up with their loud singing, preaching, and even crying at times. It’s silly, but because of my annoyance at being woken up every week, I thought Christians were a bit obnoxious.
I later learned that many members of Christian congregations donated their time and even money to their church. I just couldn’t understand why.
Because of these two observations about the Christian churches in my town in India—combined with the fact that my family and I were not Christian—I had little interest in learning more about Christianity.
During my final year of university, my friend invited me to attend his church with him. I was hesitant but eventually agreed.
As I sat in the meeting, singing hymns and listening to messages about Jesus Christ, I felt something different—I felt peace. I attended for a few more weeks and felt the same way each time. But of course, I was just visiting; I wasn’t interested in actually joining.
Some time after I stopped attending church with my friend, I began feeling like I was lacking something in my life. I missed the peace that I’d felt at church with my friend. I had a strong feeling that I should learn more about Jesus Christ, so I decided to meet with the missionaries from my friend’s church. I didn’t even consider what my family might think.
When I met with the missionaries, my life began to change. I learned about the Restoration and the Book of Mormon, and the missionaries helped answer my many questions.
One day I encountered a scripture that said, “Whatsoever thing ye shall ask in faith, … ye shall receive it” (Enos 1:15), and I knew that I wasn’t alone. I felt like God understood my situation and wanted to comfort me. As I came to recognize God’s love for me, I wanted to become a better person. I wanted to become like the Savior and become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
But as my testimony grew, I also encountered obstacles. When my mother found out I was considering baptism, she told me that I would need to leave the house and cut off contact with her. And when I shared truths about the Savior on social media, many friends and members of my extended family blocked my messages and stopped talking to me.
I felt like I was being asked to choose between my family and the gospel—a decision that felt impossible. I was sacrificing so much of what I loved to join the Church. But I knew that if anyone understood sacrifice, it was Jesus Christ (see Alma 34:8–16).
And so I kept trying to draw closer to the Savior. I would even leave home in the middle of the night to pray and read the Book of Mormon so I could avoid my family’s disapproval. Through prayer and faith, I eventually decided that no matter what happened, I would choose the gospel. The joy and purpose I found in the gospel was worth everything to me.
Joining the Church has been a huge sacrifice for me. Serving in my callings, paying tithing, and trying to maintain relationships have been challenging at times. But like those Christian congregations in my town who freely gave to their faith, I know that my sacrifices are about so much more than what I give up.
Bishop L. Todd Budge, Second Counselor in the Presiding Bishopric, explained: “When our sacrifices on behalf of others are viewed from the perspective of ‘giving up,’ we may see them as a burden and become discouraged when our sacrifices are not recognized or rewarded. However, when viewed from the perspective of ‘giving to’ the Lord, our sacrifices on behalf of others become gifts, and the joy of generously giving becomes its own reward.”1
Heavenly Father recognizes and blesses us for the sacrifices we make for Him. I have seen this in my life as I’ve gained the love and support of my ward members, felt peace and comfort from the Spirit, and experienced miracles in my life. One miracle is how my parents’ hearts have softened toward me and we have been able to maintain a good relationship.
I now know who Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are and how much They love each of us. I can feel myself becoming more like the Savior, who is our ultimate example, as I make sacrifices to keep my covenants. As we strive to serve Them in whatever capacity we can, I know we will be guided and experience the many beautiful blessings They have in store for us.

One of those he learned much from was his mother. She was, he recalls, a “great cook.” His chocolate dessert is a family tradition.

In November of 1983 he flew to California to attend the Fair Oaks Stake conference. Arriving early at the stake president’s home, he was taken on a tour of the family’s vegetable garden.

“I saw that he had leeks, a very popular vegetable in Belgium. Not having grown them before, the president wasn’t sure how to prepare them. I said, ‘Let’s make soup.’ So that Saturday evening after our conference meetings, with the stake president in the kitchen, we prepared leek soup to serve twenty-two people the next day—the high council and other stake leaders. I think I’ll be remembered there as a soup maker rather than a General Authority!”

It has been a year since I became a member of the church, and I have been attending Institute since the beginning of 2025. I have always had a thirst for learning new things about God. When I first came to church, the elders taught me about the plan of salvation and the Restoration. These were the things I had never heard before. They also helped me to interpret the scriptures I read daily, which strengthened my knowledge.
I started attending Institute classes every week. This helped me with my scripture study. This year at the Institute, the classes were about Doctrine and Covenants. It was something completely new for me; it helped me to gain a stronger testimony of the Book of Mormon.
Apart from the knowledge I gained, there was another important reason I never missed any Institute class—the principles I learned there, my spiritual sensitivity increased.
In my personal life, I face different situations that confuse, distress, or make me doubt certain things. For this, I always try to seek answers from God. And I testify that my questions are always answered in the Institute class. Every week, when someone is teaching or discussing a topic, I feel like those are the exact words God wants me to hear. It feels as if He is speaking to me indirectly. Just to hear His answers for my problem, I go to the Institute. ?

During my early years as a seminary teacher, I occasionally witnessed coworkers strive earnestly to cope with professional fatigue or with frustration in a particular assignment. For some, a natural response to such conditions was to request an environmental change, new surroundings, or a fresh assignment. Sometimes such requests were granted but sometimes not. In the case of the latter, I recall a wise supervisor often saying to a fatigued or frustrated employee, "Take a journey of the heart." To such counsel, a person could say "But this won't take me anywhere. Nothing will change; I'll still be in the same surroundings facing the same conditions." Over the years, as I have reflected on this simple but profound advice, I have come to realize that a journey of the heart is perhaps one of the most important journeys we can take. It is true that such a journey may not change the world around us, but it most definitely affects how we experience the world and how the world affects us.

Mike’s interest in amateur radio (the term ham is a nickname for the same thing) began while he was young. “We set up an electric train in the basement when I was about five, and I started figuring out how it ran. I’ve been working with wires ever since.”
“My uncle gave me a home-built transmitter, which I used along with a receiver I built from a kit. You can get a novice (beginner’s) license from the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), and with less than $100 worth of equipment, be operating a Morse code station.”
Mike got his novice license in August 1975, received his general license eight months later, his advanced license “a couple of months after that,” and now holds the highest license, the extra class license. There is one other license, the technician license, but it is used mostly for business communication, and higher licenses have the same privileges, so Mike bypassed it.
A novice licensee is allowed to broadcast only in Morse code. If he attains a higher license, however, he is allowed to broadcast his voice. “I started out memorizing Morse code,” Mike says. “Then I had a record with a very slow code speed, and I practiced off the air. Once I got on the air, I didn’t have any interest in receiving from a record. The main thing that pushed me to learn code was foreign stations sending it faster than I could receive, so I kept on pushing.”

The newspaper review read: “The audience was knocked out. The Herreys, with their pocket-size show, including both love ballads and rock music, received a long and well-earned ovation from the audience. Not to forget the two youngest Herreys who performed a number that made you think of some good American groups.”
That was printed in the Göteborg sposten, the newspaper of Sweden’s second largest city, Göteborg (population 50,000). Every year the Göteborg sposten sponsors a talent contest called “Unknown Talents.” In the 1976 contest there were 150 entries who competed for 13 places in the show. The Herreys won one of those places.
And who are the Herreys? A Latter-day Saint family who began their singing career during family home evening and at family outings.
Willy and Gerd Herrey have seven children all together, but it is the four youngest who make up the singing, dancing, and instrumental combo. Per, who plays the guitar, is 17. Marie is 15 and plays the piano. The drummer is 11-year-old Richard. The youngest is 9-year-old Louis.
They also have two sidemen who are both active members of the Church: Peter Edvinson and Rolf Hagglund.
The group plays all kinds of music from slow ballads and folk songs to current rock. Most songs are arranged by Per, who puts them into four-part harmony. Brother and Sister Herrey are always nearby to help with arranging for equipment and giving encouragement whenever the young people need it.
By winning one of the 13 spots on the “Unknown Talent” show, the Herrey family gained national attention and the opportunity to do four performances at Liseberg, Göteborg’s large amusement center.

In another area, my companion and I had just finished teaching and had ten minutes before a dinner appointment. Rather than wasting time we knocked on some doors, and one family let us right in. They had just returned from visiting a ranch in Arizona that was run by an LDS family. They had been impressed by how clean and well run it was.
We started the lessons and ended up baptizing the whole family, mom and dad and two kids. They got right in and became involved with the ward. They brought several of their friends into the Church, and both of the children are now at BYU. One’s leaving on a mission soon.
They’ve come and visited our home a couple of times, and now I know why my father felt so good when people from his mission came to see him.

Some years ago my father, who was an attorney, was trying a lawsuit. For his authority, he cited only one case--an old California Supreme Court case, issued many years before. His opponent cited a number of lower court decisions of much more recent vintage. The judge finally said to my father: "Mr. Callister, don't you have a more recent case than this?" My father looked at the judge and replied: "Your honor, may I remind you that when the Supreme Court speaks on a matter, it only needs to speak once." The judge nodded with approval. He was reminded that the Supreme Court trumps all lower court decisions, however numerous or recent they may be. So it is with God our Father--He only needs to speak once on the issue of morality, and that one declaration trumps all the opinions of the "lower courts," whether uttered by psychologists, counselors, politicians, friends, parents or would-be moralists of the day.

Jason remembered how his foot had tingled when it went to sleep that night as he stood motionless by the kitchen door, listening. The big folks were in the living room, discussing Grandpa! Mom had sent him off to watch TV, but when he went to get a drink, he couldn’t help overhearing them. Then he just stayed there.
There was no mistaking Aunt Madge’s high-pitched, nervous voice. She always seemed to talk too fast. She and Uncle Bill had flown in from Texas the day before Grandma’s funeral. Jason could hear Aunt Madge say that there was no way that Grandpa could live alone now that Grandma wasn’t there to take care of him. And that it was impossible for him to live at their house.
Aunt Edith said that she was sorry, but she didn’t have room for him in her little apartment. Aunt Sherma and Uncle Dick traveled a lot; besides, Aunt Sherma said, they just didn’t have an extra bedroom either.
Jason’s mom had spoken up quickly. “We can move the TV into the living room and give Grandpa the TV room. We’d be happy to have him live here with us.”
Jason was delighted!
Grandpa moved in with them at the first of the year. It had been hard for him to leave his home. The movers brought his bed and dresser, a lounge chair, and some boxes of his personal things, but that was all.
He and Jason soon became good buddies. Grandpa was a great storyteller, and Jason loved to listen to his stories. Grandpa talked a lot about his boyhood, the time he’d spent overseas during the war, the early days of his law practice, and the years that he sat behind a big podium as a judge in a black robe. But he was old and frail now, and it was hard for Jason to picture him as a little boy, a soldier, a lawyer, or a judge.
Grandpa helped fill the empty spot in Jason’s heart. Jason had never known his own father—he’d been only two at the time of the car accident. “Did Daddy look like me when he was six?” he asked Grandpa one day.
“You’re a dead-ringer for my Joe when he was your age,” Grandpa told him. “Your dad’s hair was darker than yours, but he had your same nose and that same cleft in his chin.” Grandpa smiled and started talking about all four of his children—Madge and Edith and Sherma and Joe.
Later Jason pushed Grandpa’s wheelchair out onto the front porch to try to escape the hot, humid house. The cool, fresh breezes from the sycamores brought a refreshing change. Jason threw his leg across the brick-bordered porch, pulled a leaf from the lilac tree, folded it, and put it to his lips. As he blew softly, out came a low, clear whistle.
Grandpa stopped, then said, “If you’d like to see the seashell, I still have it. Would you go get the brown shoe box in the back corner of my bottom dresser drawer, please?”
Jason returned a few moments later with the shoe box. Grandpa opened it and took out a small white and coral seashell, beautifully formed and with black and gray striations. “I want you to have this, Jason,” he said, placing it in Jason’s hands. “If you listen to it often, it will help you remember another Voice that is always there to guide you and help you make right decisions.”
Jason placed the seashell next to his ear and listened for a moment. “Thank you, Grandpa, for telling me about Dad,” he said softly. “And thank you for sharing your treasure with me. It will always remind me of the Holy Ghost, Dad, and you.”