Gospel Story Finder

Zach had never felt more worried in his whole life. His dog, Ace, had swallowed something he shouldn’t have eaten, and it was stuck inside him. If Ace didn’t have surgery right away, he would die!
Dad was at the vetinarian’s office now with Ace. Zach wished he could be there too, instead of stuck getting ready for school. With a sigh, he knelt by his bed to say a prayer. “Heavenly Father, I’m really worried about Ace. Please help the surgery to go all right. Please bless Ace to live, and please help me not feel so worried.”
Zach knew Heavenly Father loved him and heard his prayer. The worried feeling in his stomach melted away a little bit, and he felt more calm inside. Zach zipped up his backpack and ran to catch the bus. Everything was going to be OK.
At school, Zach kept thinking about Ace. Ace was such a healthy dog. But he got sick so quickly! What if Ace dies before I can say goodbye? All of Zach’s worried feelings rushed back. Zach took a deep breath and remembered the peace he felt after he prayed that morning. Heavenly Father would answer his prayer, wouldn’t He?
When Zach came home from school, he ran straight inside to ask Mom how the surgery went. “Mom! How’s Ace?”
“He’s OK,” said Mom. “He’ll be home soon, but he’s going to be pretty sore. We’ll need to be gentle with him.”
Zach let out a big sigh as Mom gave him a hug. He was so relieved. And he couldn’t wait to see Ace!
When Ace came home, Zach’s family gave him extra care. They brought him his favorite toys. They talked to him and told him how much they loved him. They gently rubbed the fur on his back. Zach took time to scratch Ace’s ears. Ace loved the attention. He seemed to be getting better and better.
But the next week, Ace got sick again. He stopped eating and drinking and seemed very tired. Zach’s stomach sank as he watched his parents drive away to take Ace back to the vet.
When Mom and Dad walked through the door a few hours later, they were alone. They gathered the family together and explained that Ace had died. Zach felt numb. He could hear his brothers and sisters crying and felt tears on his own cheeks.
Zach thought about his prayer before Ace’s surgery—the prayer that brought him so much comfort and peace. He had asked Heavenly Father to bless Ace to live, but now Ace had died. This wasn’t what he prayed for at all!
Mom came over and sat next to Zach on the couch. “Ace was such a good dog,” she said. “We had so many happy times with him.”
Zach smiled a little as he remembered scratching Ace’s ears in just the right spot. Then he thought about the past week. Ace had lived for 10 more days after the surgery. Zach got to spend time with him and show Ace how much he loved him.
Maybe Heavenly Father really did answer my prayer, Zach thought. A warm feeling came over him like another hug. He still missed Ace, and he still felt sad. But he also felt peace. Zach knew that Heavenly Father had heard his prayer, even if the answer wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He knew Heavenly Father loved him. And because of that, everything really would be OK.

One day my best friend and I were walking around at recess. We saw a girl from our ward sitting up against the fence with a frown on her face. My friend said we should go talk to her. So we walked over and asked why she was so sad. She said her friends told her that she couldn’t play with them. We asked if she wanted to play with us, and she said that she did. A smile was on her face.
We had a lot of fun that recess and played with her every day. Before we played with her, we hadn’t known that she was so fun. I felt good inside to play with someone who had looked sad.
A few days later, my mom and I rode our bikes to the park. We saw my new friend there too. She and I played on the playground while our moms talked.
After we left, my mom told me what her mom had said. The girl’s friends had been mean to her over the last few days. She and her mom had been praying that she would find some friends, and my friend and I were the answer to her prayers. I felt warm inside and was happy that I had played with her.

My name is Peteru Mamoe (Elder Birita), and I want to share a story that taught me how Heavenly Father answers prayers—not just for us but through us.
One day our pantry was nearly empty. We had rice but nothing else. I knelt in prayer and asked Heavenly Father to provide for our needs. Specifically, I asked for fish—a simple yet nourishing addition to our meal. I trusted that He would provide, but I had no idea how He would do it.
Later that day, as I sat outside our home, a man walked by carrying a sack full of fish. My wife was washing dishes near the fence when, suddenly, the sack burst open and fish spilled onto the ground. The man was clearly distressed, but my wife quickly offered him a new sack. Grateful for her kindness, he entrusted her with the fish while he went to find his brothers to help.
When the man returned, he gave my wife two large fish as a gesture of gratitude. We were overjoyed! Not only did we have fish for our meal, but we had enough to share. I felt prompted to take some of the fish to a friend who was unemployed and struggling to provide for his family. When I arrived at his home, I discovered that his wife and child were in the hospital, and he had been praying for a way to feed them.
My friend’s eyes filled with tears as he accepted the fish. He told me that his wife had already prepared breadfruit for their meal, but now they could add fish to it. Later, I learned that his wife had shared some of the fish with a widow and her two sick children at the hospital. This widow had also been praying for food, and God had answered her prayer through the kindness of others.
As I reflected on this chain of events, I was overwhelmed by the love of Heavenly Father. He had not only answered my prayer for fish but had also used me to answer the prayers of my friend and the widow. It was a powerful reminder that God often works through us to bless others. In the words of the Savior, “For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required” (Luke 12:48).
This experience taught me that God’s love is not limited to our individual needs. He sees the bigger picture and uses us as instruments in His hands to bless His children. Since that day, I have made it a habit to pray not only for my own needs but for the needs of those around me. I have seen how God can take a simple prayer—like my request for fish—and turn it into a miracle that touches multiple lives.
I testify that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are aware of our struggles and our needs. They hear our prayers, and They answer them in ways that strengthen our faith and bless others. May we always be willing to act on the promptings we receive, knowing that we can be instruments in God’s hands to share His love and provision with those around us.

In eighth grade I was in a book club. Each month we met to discuss a book, and at the end of the year we had a competition to see whose team knew the most about each book. One rule we always upheld was to read only clean books.
One month, when I started reading the next book, I felt like it wasn’t clean. But I needed to read it if I wanted my team to win the competition. I couldn’t let them down. A few chapters later, the book got worse. Finally, I put it down. I knew that I couldn’t read it—my spiritual cleanliness was worth more than winning a competition.
But I was so worried about telling my team. The night before our club’s meeting, I prayed to Heavenly Father to help me have courage to face them.
The next day I was really worried. I sat down with my team. Once the meeting started, I was about to explain to everyone that I couldn’t read the book. But before I could, the leader got up and apologized. She explained that she hadn’t read the book before putting it on our booklist and didn’t realize what was in it. She said she would take it off the list. When I got home, I thanked Heavenly Father.
I know that when we uphold our standards, the Lord watches over us. He doesn’t always take care of the situation as He did for me, but He will always give us the courage to make good decisions.
Ashleigh A., Utah, USA

When I was 10 years old, my family became refugees in a new land. I had always been a good student in school—that is, until we arrived in West Germany. There, my educational experience was a significantly different one. The geography we studied in my school was new to me. The history we studied was also very different. Before, I had been learning Russian as a second language; now, it was English. This was hard for me. Indeed, there were moments when I truly believed my tongue simply was not made to speak English.
Because so much of the curriculum was new and strange to me, I fell behind. For the first time in my life, I began to wonder if I was simply not smart enough for school.
Fortunately I had a teacher who taught me to be patient. He taught me that steady and consistent work—patient persistence—would help me to learn.
Over time, difficult subjects became clearer—even English. Slowly I began to see that if I applied myself consistently, I could learn. It didn’t come quickly, but with patience, it did come.
From that experience, I learned that patience was far more than simply waiting for something to happen—patience required actively working toward worthwhile goals and not getting discouraged when results didn’t appear instantly or without effort.

This year we did some family history activities, and I learned about my ancestors. Mama said both the women and the men in my family had very long hair, just like me. Then she said one very important thing: my ancestors are waiting for me in the spirit world! She said that they are waiting to be baptized—just like I had to wait until I turned eight to be baptized. (By the way, I was baptized on my birthday! Cool, huh?)
Mama said my ancestors are in the spirit world. They don’t have bodies like me, so they cannot be baptized. So sad! That’s why we get to be baptized for them in the temple. I told Mama that once the temple is built in Bengaluru, and once I am old enough, I want to be baptized for them.

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.

Elder Gordon B. Hinckley
At the outset, I should like to say that I am convinced that we have never had a more dedicated or more capable generation of young men in the history of the Church. Some of you older brethren may dispute that, which brings to mind the story of the boy who came down to breakfast one morning and said, “Dad, I dreamed about you last night.”
“About me? What did you dream?”
“I dreamed I was climbing a ladder to heaven and on the way up I had to write one of my sins on each step of the ladder.”
“And where did I come into your dream?” the father asked.
Said the boy, “When I was going up, I met you coming down for more chalk.”

I hope each deacon is given a spiritual awareness of the sacredness of his ordained calling, as I was. This occurred when the bishopric asked that I take the sacrament to a shut-in who lived about a mile from our chapel. That special Sunday morning, as I knocked on the door of Brother Wright and heard his feeble reply, “Come in,” I entered not only his humble cottage but also a room filled with the Spirit of the Lord. I approached his bedside and carefully placed a piece of bread to his lips. I then held the cup of water, that he might drink. As I departed, I saw him smile as he said, “God bless you, my boy.” And God did bless me with an appreciation for the sacred emblems, which continues even today.

When I was nine years old, I went on a fathers and sons’ campout. Fifteen men and boys went on a mountain bike ride. We were divided into groups of fast, medium, and slow riders. I was in the medium speed and my dad was behind with the slow riders. As I rode ahead I got my foot stuck in the chain and fell. As a result I was behind my group and I was way ahead of the slow group. I kept riding my bike hoping to catch up, but I was confused and somehow went off the main trail. I realized there was no one in front of me and I was getting tired and scared. I was lost! I shouted the names of my brothers and father, but no reply. So the only thing I could do was pray. I prayed on my knees and I prayed on my feet. After several hours I became very thirsty.
Suddenly I felt a warm feeling and two people came walking on the trail. They saw me and asked me if I was lost. And I said yes! They gave me one of their bottles of water to drink. I knew the Lord had sent these people. As we walked back up the mountain, they told me stories about their lives. When we reached the top, my group had just started looking for me. This experience taught me that the Lord does work in mysterious ways and that there are loving people in the world. But the biggest lesson learned was that I could not have made it out alone; it was the Lord’s answer to my prayer. I have a strong testimony of prayer and I know that the Savior lives.

Cristin Shaner of Coffeyville, Kansas, found an influential moment to talk about the Church. Performing in a contest, she sang a solo and, during the interlude between verses, gave a monologue about the Church.
The song was “If I Ruled the World” from the musical Pickwick. Cristy talked about how when she was small she thought that if she ruled the world she would tell everyone about her church, because it made her feel so good inside. She added that even as a young woman she still wanted to tell everyone about her church.
After Cristy won the contest, many people asked her about her church and wanted to know more about its teachings. And since she won the title she was competing for, Cristy has an even greater opportunity to be an example of the gospel.
Cristy is a seminary graduate and a recipient of the Young Womanhood Recognition. She is a member of the Coffeyville Kansas Branch in the Tulsa Oklahoma Stake.

After graduating with honors from high school, Bien studied political science at the Christian College of the Philippines. “We were talking in class about earthquakes,” Bien remembers, “laughing about getting caught in one.” Suddenly, the whole classroom swayed. It was an earthquake.
Terrified, everyone scrambled to escape. The building was dancing madly. Just as Bien was about to dash to safety through an open door, he was pinned by an avalanche of concrete.
“A broken chair jabbed at my stomach, one of my legs was in a half-kneeling posture, and I was face down,” he remembers. His fractured right arm bled profusely under a block of collapsed flooring. Yet, incredibly, a huge chunk of fallen concrete had barely missed his head. “Classmates were crying for help, but I couldn’t budge,” Bien recalls. One by one they died, including three lying on Bien. The quake struck in late afternoon, and by evening it was pitch dark. Everything was silent.
“I cried,” Bien admits. But as he wept, a Primary song crossed his mind. He started singing “I Am a Child of God.” As each word pierced the silence, a feeling of peace came, a feeling that he was no longer alone. “I prayed, saying, ‘Father, if I still need to live, then please let me live.’” As he prayed, Bien remembered the Savior. “He suffered a lot more than I did,” Bien realized. The cave-in became a tremendous spiritual experience.
As the sun rose the following morning, so did Bien’s hopes. Rescue workers pried him from the rubble and carried him to safety. His relieved family was notified. Bien was rushed to a hospital. Doctors immediately amputated his right arm. “I woke up, looked at my right side and cried out, ‘What’s happening here?’ I thought I was dreaming.” Shock turned to sorrow. “I felt so lonely because I might not be able to do what I used to do.”
After three bedridden months, Bien went home. Nearly all of his 50 classmates had perished. It seemed the same thing happened to Bien’s will to live. How could he, a right-handed person, manage with just his left hand?
While tutoring his nephews one day, Bien felt prompted to practice writing the alphabet. At first it was pure frustration. “My mind knew the shapes, but my hand had difficulty following.” However, practice makes perfect; less than a year after that fateful day, Bien was not only writing with ease but also back to his oil-painting hobby. And he resumed college.
After a year, he felt it was time to make use of his newfound strength to serve a mission. His family was aghast. “We’d really worry about you,” his mother protested.
“I know this is what the Lord wants,” Bien reassured her.
Months later, as a missionary, Bien received a family letter. “Don’t worry about us,” they wrote. “We’re boasting about you already.”
Bien’s personality affects just about everybody. At the Manila Missionary Training Center he was an inspiration, and his dedication has touched the Santa Maria branch. But Bien admits there are still some challenges, like forgoing basketball and service projects like harvesting rice.
One of Bien’s favorite scriptures says God “will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will … also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it” (1 Cor. 10:13). It’s a scripture that helps Bien see everything as a learning experience.
Mission life, he says, “is like a school where I learn much, not only about the gospel but also about myself.” He hastens to add that it was in the rubble of another school where he learned to trust Heavenly Father.
Ask Bien to sum up his blessings and he’ll share his motto: “I asked God for health that I might do great things, and I was given an infirmity that I might do greater things.”
Then he’ll smile and extend his friendship to you—with a warm, left-handed handshake.

Recently a friend of mine was returning to his home in Salt Lake City on a plane from Dallas, Texas. His mind was focused upon an important event that was soon to occur in his family. His only son would be leaving home in just a few days to serve as a missionary in a far-distant land. His great love for his son caused him to reflect, “If my son is going so far away to teach about our Church, this had better be the best church!” Then he took out a notepad and pen and began to list the characteristics or qualities one would look for in the best church.
“There should be a program to build and strengthen youth,” he wrote, “an athletic program, a wholesome activity program, a program for teaching and training children, a program for developing the skills and talents of women, a program to provide for the needy, for the ill, for the lonely, for the victims of catastrophes and disasters, a program to provide opportunities for work and service, a program to assist families and individuals in spiritual development and progress.”
His list became long and impressive, and he satisfied himself that his church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, offered a program to meet the need of every individual. Truly, he determined, it is the best church his son could represent!
My friend felt so good about his list of attractive qualities of the best church that he decided to show it to the gentleman seated next to him on the plane. The man, an executive from a financial firm, responded with interest and respect. Together they reviewed the list, and as they concluded their conversation the businessman asked my friend, “Would you like to know what I would look for in a church? There is just one criterion: the members of that church would best exemplify the teaching of the Savior—‘Love thy neighbor as thyself.’”
My friend said he learned an important lesson from that experience. He had taught this fine man about the programs of the Church without acknowledging that the purpose of these programs is to help members learn how to love God and their fellowmen. He has shared that experience with me and permitted me to share it with you today that we might all be reminded of this.

Eliza R. Snow, second General President of the Relief Society, offered a riveting answer. Because of Missouri’s infamous extermination order, issued at the onset of the grueling winter of 1838,7 she and other Saints were forced to flee the state that very winter. One evening, Eliza’s family spent the night in a small log cabin used by refugee Saints. Much of the chinking between the logs had been extracted and burned for firewood by those who preceded them, so there were holes between the logs large enough for a cat to crawl through. It was bitter cold, and their food was frozen solid.

That night some 80 people huddled inside that small cabin, only 20 feet square (6.1 meters square). Most sat or stood all night trying to keep warm. Outside, a group of men spent the night gathered around a roaring fire, with some singing hymns and others roasting frozen potatoes. Eliza recorded: “Not a complaint was heard—all were cheerful, and judging from appearances, strangers would have taken us to be pleasure excursionists rather than a band of gubernatorial exiles.”

Eliza’s report of that exhausting, bone-chilling evening was strikingly optimistic. She declared: “That was a very merry night. None but saints can be happy under every circumstance.”8

Nicole loves Suriname. So when she heard about a national contest to write an essay about her country, it seemed like a good thing to do. The contest rules said to describe what she would do if she were the Minister of Tourism. In her essay she suggested that historical buildings in Suriname should be cleaned up and beautified and that citizens of Suriname should be friendlier to visitors.

Nicole won the contest for her age group and traveled to Puerto Rico to compete with winners from other countries. Nicole really enjoyed her trip to Puerto Rico. “It is a beautiful country,” she says. “The people there are very kind, and I made lots of friends. But after all, home is home.” She was eager to be with her parents and her four older sisters again. And she was anxious to see her pet cat, Rosy!

At night Nicole likes to listen to the chirping crickets and the croaking frogs and the sounds of life in the woods around her house. She also likes to think of the city, with its government buildings and street signs, flower stalls and food markets. She is happy to be where she is. And she is grateful that, by writing down her thoughts, she was able to share her love for her country with people throughout the world.

Youth all over the world are drawn to temples. In Lima, Peru, I met a father and three of his daughters outside the entrance of the temple. I saw the light in their faces. Two of the daughters were severely disabled and sitting in wheelchairs. The third daughter, while attending to her sisters’ needs, explained she had two more sisters at home. They too were in wheelchairs. They were unable to travel the 14 hours to the temple. The temple meant so much to this father and his daughters that four of them had come to the temple that day—two of them simply to observe the one who could be baptized for the dead and perform that sacred ordinance. Like Nephi, they “[delighted] in the covenants of the Lord.”5

My name is Armando. I am from the Antananarivo Madagascar Stake. I want to testify to you that reading the scriptures and doing Duty to God really brings blessings to us and to those around us.
I remember one Monday in our family home evening I felt that it was an occasion for me to bear my testimony about the Book of Mormon. I had chosen previously that this would be the action I would take to follow the pattern in the booklet. I testified especially to my father, who had been inactive for months, to let him know what I know about the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. Soon after it seemed my father started to gain more faith again, and the next Sunday he started coming to church again. He met with the bishop and began to focus more on doing his duty. I realized that following the Fulfilling My Duty to God booklet had brought blessings to my family. I know that it prepares us to become effective missionaries, worthy bearers of the priesthood, diligent leaders, and good fathers to take our families to the temple. I know we will be successful in our lives if we do our duty to our Heavenly Father.

Nine times seven is 63. Six times eight is … 42? No, that’s not right!
Luca furiously erased his answer.
“Time!” Luca’s teacher called. “Everyone hand in your tests.”
“Oh no!” Luca thought. “But I’m not even done!”
Luca sighed as he handed in his test. He had to get a 90 percent on his timed tests to pass his multiplication tables and become a class Multiplication Master, but he just didn’t know how he was going to do it!
That night during family scripture study, Dad read from the Doctrine and Covenants: “Therefore, if you will ask of me you shall receive; if you will knock it shall be opened unto you” (D&C 6:5).
Luca’s head popped up. That was the answer! Prayer!
Luca started praying every day to do well on his timed multiplication test. This would work. It had to work. He would finally become a Multiplication Master!
On Tuesday, Luca came home from school and grabbed his basketball.
“Do you need help studying?” Mom asked.
“Nope! I’ve got it taken care of!” Luca said as he ran out the door. He believed so much in prayer that he didn’t even take out his flash cards to practice his math.
On Friday, Luca knew he was going to pass the test. But when he sat down to take it, the answers just didn’t come, and he did even worse than before!
Luca walked home from the bus stop with his head down. He had prayed so hard to be a Multiplication Master. Why didn’t Heavenly Father answer his prayer?
When he got home, he shot baskets until Dad came home from work. Dad honked the car horn as he pulled up.
“How was school?” Dad asked.
“Not very good,” Luca said, looking down. “I can’t pass my multiplication test.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dad said. He held up his hands for a pass.
“I should have passed!” Luca said. “I prayed and everything. Dad, you said that Heavenly Father answers prayers. He definitely didn’t answer mine today!”
“Did you practice with your flash cards?” Dad asked.
“No.”
“Did you study at all?”
“No,” Luca said. “But I prayed all week!”
Dad dribbled the ball and looked at Luca. “Well, multiplication is kind of like basketball. How did you get so good at basketball?”
“I practiced,” Luca said.
“Yes, and so when we pray for Heavenly Father to help you before your games, we’re not praying for Him to magically make you a better basketball player. What do we pray for?”
“For me to remember what I practiced,” Luca said.
“That’s right. Prayer works best when we do our part and also ask Heavenly Father to help us,” Dad said.
“So my part is studying my flash cards?” Luca asked.
“Exactly,” Dad said, passing the ball back to Luca.
Luca heaved a big sigh and took a shot. The ball bounced off the rim. “OK. It’s going to take a lot of work. But I guess I can study hard and ask Heavenly Father to help me.”
“There you go!” Dad said. “So, are you ready for a little one-on-one?”
Luca grinned and stole the ball from Dad. “Sure! As long as you help me study at the same time.”
“You’re on,” Dad said. “Six times eight is?”
“Forty-eight!” Luca said, taking another shot. This time it swished through the hoop.
Between practice and prayer, he would become a Multiplication Master after all.

During the cold and gray days of the Great Depression I remember a wonderful servant of the Savior by the name of C. Perry Erickson. Brother Erickson, a contractor, had a difficult time finding work. He could have shut himself up. He could have become bitter and angry. He could have given up. Instead, when I was 12 he was my Scoutmaster. He spent countless hours helping me and others my age to learn, to grow, and to approach every difficulty with confidence and optimism. Without exception, every one of C. Perry Erickson’s Scouts received an Eagle award. I knew then.

Yes, the testimonies of priesthood leaders and faithful ward members helped me to know.
I remember the words of my mother and father. I remember their expressions of faith and love for their Heavenly Father. I knew then.
I knew the reality of the Savior’s compassion when, at the request of my father, the bishop of the ward, I delivered food and clothing to the widows and poor of the ward.
I knew, when as a young father, my wife and I gathered our children around us and expressed our gratitude to our Heavenly Father for our many blessings.
I knew last April, when I heard from this pulpit the words of our prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, who called Jesus his friend, exemplar, leader, Savior, and King.
President Hinckley said: “Through giving His life in pain and unspeakable suffering, He has reached down to lift me and each of us and all the sons and daughters of God from the abyss of eternal darkness following death. He has provided something better—a sphere of light and understanding, growth and beauty.”

Now, I would like to bear my testimony—I know that Joseph Smith saw what he said he saw, that the heavens opened and God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, appeared to an unlearned youth reared in the backwoods of New York.
As a special witness of the name of Jesus Christ in all the world, I promise you that if you seek the Lord, you will find Him. Ask, and you shall receive.
I pray that you may do so and testify to the ends of the earth that the gospel of our Lord and Savior is restored to man! In the name of my friend, my exemplar, my Savior and King, Jesus Christ, amen.

Sid told me of an experience he had on his mission. It was evening, and he and his companion were just about to return to their apartment. They decided to visit one more family. The father let them in. Elder Going and his companion testified of the Savior. The family accepted a Book of Mormon. The father read all night. In the next week and a half he read the entire Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. A few weeks later the family was baptized.