Gospel Story Finder

Cal called my sister Marguerite and asked her to let the rest of the family know what had happened. She said that she started praying for me immediately. It was then that she received a strong, calm feeling and the thought, “Trust me. She is in my hands. I’m in charge, I know what’s best, and I’m all-powerful.” She wondered if that meant I would be in God’s hands in the same way our Dad was: he had died two years earlier. She began to pray again and felt rather than heard the message that I would be all right and would be getting married soon. She wondered why the Lord would tell her this, but decided it must have been the best way to comfort her.
At the time, I was not dating anyone or even thinking of getting married. I was forty-nine years old and had long since resigned myself to being single. I had struggled for many years with the fact that my patriarchal blessing had promised me marriage and yet I remained alone. I sometimes wondered if the Lord really knew I was here. There were even times when I thought that I really didn’t matter to him, since I was just an average sort of person—no one very important.
The accident changed all that. When she heard about the accident, my sister Esther wondered why the Lord hadn’t protected me, since I was an active member of the Church. Into her mind came the words, “What makes you think I didn’t?” I know that the Lord truly did protect me. He preserved my life and protected me from the kind of injuries that would have left me crippled. He protected me in the emergency room by prompting the doctors. But perhaps greatest of all, he let me glimpse the almost overwhelming power of his love.
The morning after I was admitted to the hospital, Cal and a member of my bishopric gave me a blessing. Cal had no hesitation in promising me that I would recover. He said later that he had the same feeling Marguerite had—that I would be getting married soon.
I was in intensive care for a week, hooked up to all kinds of machines that helped me breathe and that monitored my condition. Other than my stake president, my family were the only ones allowed to see me during those first few days. I was conscious but not talking. I was under such heavy medication that I have very little memory of those first two weeks. Mostly, I remember isolated times when people came to see me.
After I left intensive care, I was awake and talking. I had become very dependent and wanted one of my family with me all the time, so they set up a schedule and took turns sitting with me. I was in a lot of pain.
The first thing I became consistently conscious of was an intense awareness of love. I can’t ever remember feeling so secure. I felt very much wrapped in God’s love. The feeling was so profound that even to this day I can’t adequately describe it. I was also very much aware of the love my family had for me, and I could feel it surrounding me.
This feeling expanded as I became aware of other people. My Young Women counselors came to see me almost every day, and I felt their concern. Bishop Pruess came to visit me often and told me that the ward was praying for me, and I felt love coming from the ward. Members of the stake came to see me and told me of the great outpouring of prayer for me in the stake. My friends at work visited me, and I also sensed their concern.
I felt all this love at the deepest, most fundamental level of my soul. That love, I believe, is what helped me survive the very difficult time that followed the accident.
The Lord blessed me in so many ways during the following months. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew from the first that all of my injuries would heal and that I would return to normal. I also knew that if I were to recover, I couldn’t waste any strength hating the man who had hurt me. I concentrated on getting better rather than dwelling on what was wrong. I knew that the Lord was helping me focus on love and on people rather than dwell on the horror.
After I had been in the hospital two and a half weeks, the doctors said I could leave. They suggested, however, that my family take me to a convalescent center. I was quite frightened at the thought of moving. I remember pleading with Cal to ask the Lord what we should do. I had been leaning very heavily on the Lord, and I didn’t want any decision made without consulting him. My family was there, and I had been leaning on them, but I knew that, above all, the Lord was caring for me.
On September 20, I was transferred to a care center. The medication was cut in half, so I became more aware of what was going on around me. For a week, I worked hard at building up my strength and learning how to get around with broken bones. Then I was moved to Cal’s house. I appreciated him and his wife for letting me stay with them. It felt good to be in their home. His children would come to my room after school and tell me what they had done that day. Their visits did much to ease me back into normal life.
I had been so heavily drugged in the hospital that even though I knew why I was there, I hadn’t been able to focus on any one thought. But now I was off all medication. For the first few nights at Cal’s, I was afraid to go to sleep. I felt I had such a slight hold on life that I might not wake up in the morning. While lying awake at night, I would start to think about the horror of what had happened and about my injuries. I realized that I could have been killed or permanently damaged physically.
On those nights when I became frightened, I would turn to the Lord for help. Almost immediately, my mind would be filled with peace and with an awareness of the many blessings He had given me. A great calm would envelop me, and I would fall asleep. At such times I felt overwhelmed by Heavenly Father’s goodness and love.
About seven weeks after the accident, I was able to return home. My family stayed most of the day, helping me get settled in, but I spent my first Sunday morning home alone. That was very difficult. After being with people and being surrounded by their love, I felt a terrible loneliness that day—something deeper than I had ever felt before. I had gone through the typical frustrations of being single and of wanting to be a mother. Now, after having been wrapped in the wonderfully sustaining love of my family, I wondered if I could handle living alone any more.
That afternoon, Jerry Tucker came to visit me. We had come to know each other through his calling as high council adviser to the Young Women program, so I wasn’t too surprised when he continued to visit me. Months later, though, when he proposed marriage, I wondered if I was reading my feelings correctly. I suppose, quite naturally, that I felt the need for outside assurance to confirm that my judgment and thoughts were sound. Because the Lord had been so close to me through the crisis of the accident and the slow healing, and because my family had given me such tremendous support, I felt the need for their approval and for wisdom outside my own.
So I began praying about Jerry’s proposal. My prayers were answered one day when a great feeling of peace washed over me. I knew then that this was my time to be married. I also knew that the Lord had not left me alone and that I would never be cheated of anything he had promised me. Jerry and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple on 12 February 1987.
I have wished that I could share with all my single friends the assurance that this experience has given me. I am convinced, at a deeply personal level, that though we sometimes can’t see or understand what is happening in our lives, Heavenly Father is always there, caring for us.
In time, all of my injuries healed. But I will never be the same. I learned so many things that I thought I knew but really didn’t. I have a much deeper faith and trust in the Lord now. I know he lives. I have felt his influence in my life.
I learned that miracles do happen to ordinary people. I had felt that I was no one special, and yet I know now that I am special—I am a daughter of God. We are all special, because we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father. That fact is very real to me now.
Before my accident, I didn’t know how incredibly loving and kind God is. I am sure that even now I don’t begin to comprehend the depth of his love, but I sense that it is far deeper than any of us know. I know that even if I had died or had been crippled, the Lord would have been there looking after me, blessing me in ways he saw best.
I learned how important prayer is. I could actually feel the strength of the prayers being said for me. Now as I pray for the Lord to watch over my loved ones, it has special meaning. If something distressing were to happen, I would want him to be with them as he was with me. When my miracle happened, it was several hours before anyone knew and could begin praying—but how many times had my family remembered me in their daily prayers before that time?
I learned about joy. The Lord told me in a blessing that he had extended my life and that he wanted me to make it a joyful, happy one. I understand now that it is important to him that we are happy. I find references to joy throughout the scriptures. I see far more clearly now that the gospel is a gospel of joy.
I learned the value of health. Our bodies are a special blessing, and good health is to be treasured. I feel an urgent need to take care of my health. Our Heavenly Father has given us life and everything we have. Our part is to take care of what he has given us.
Something terrible happened to me, but I have received so many blessings that I still feel in debt to the Lord. I owe him more than I can ever repay. But I don’t think he wants “repayment.” He wants my love. He wants me to be happy—and that will happen as I love and serve him with my whole soul, sharing my joy with those around me.

Sister Simmons, my MTC companion, loved to sing. She had a beautiful voice. Sometimes at night while we were in our beds, with the lights off, she would sing a comforting lullaby, and we slept soundly.
After we left the MTC, I didn’t see her for several months. Then I was transferred into her area. Stake conference came around, and she sang an arrangement of “How Great Thou Art” (Hymns, no. 86). She sang for everyone, but it felt like she sang just for me.
As she sang, I realized how meaningful the words of the hymn are. She began to sing smoothly, beautifully, until verse three when she stopped with tears running down her cheeks. She had to just speak the words. She faltered and then started again strong, with passion and feeling. Beautifully, with tears in her eyes, she continued to verse four. “When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation”—she smiled, and I smiled. “And take me home”—she paused. Home, our true home. “What joy shall fill my heart! Then I shall bow in humble adoration and there proclaim, ‘My God, how great thou art!’” She finished strong and with power, smiling.
When she said “then sings my soul,” I felt my soul singing in tune with her words. That was being in tune with the Holy Ghost. That feeling was worship. That is why we have hymns. That is why we sing in church. That was my soul singing.

Fourth, we began attending the Church at the missionaries’ invitation—and what a friendly reception! We soon learned what true sociality is, and sincere brotherhood and sisterhood which bind together people of all nations and tongues. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). What a wonderful feeling of belonging, of being needed and appreciated, beyond anything we had previously experienced.
Soon we were singing in choirs; visiting other Church members in their homes, just as they visited us; and giving service to others in some of the many service projects the Church provides. We were able to choose from a wide range of activities—drama, dancing, sport—to supplement the spiritual progress that came rapidly by worshiping and learning with other Latter-day Saints. Everyone needs to experience the warmth of friendship and happy social activity on a continuing basis.

A few years ago our teenage daughter was feeling quite unsettled, asking some very honest questions, such as “Why is life so hard?” As we talked over dinner one night, I prayed like a missionary for the right things to say. After all, our children are our most important investigators. In the very moment, I received a prompting about “gravitational pull.” I grabbed a paper napkin and drew a sketch I’d never thought of before. It sparked a lively discussion. I felt so close to her that night. She is the child of our covenant, and I want to be with her always.

Dear Reed,
Today was the second worst day of my entire life! (The worst day was the day that you left home.) We had baseball tryouts, and I was terrible! I couldn’t do anything right. I need you here to help me. Dad says that he’ll practice with me, but you know how busy he is all the time. How can I ever learn to play baseball good enough to get on the team and then play for the high school and get a scholarship for college like you did? Sometimes I feel like a dumb little kid who can’t do anything right.
Do you know now what my secret is? My secret is that I don’t think that I can stand to have you be away for two years. I want you to come home right now! I need you, Reed. Please come home now!
Love,Buddy
P.S. If I ever decide to play baseball again, can I borrow your glove and bats?
Dear Buddy,
Last time you and I played baseball, you were as good as I was when I was your age—maybe even better! Your problem is that you want to be great right now. But you have a lot of work and practice and growing to do. Lots of the guys who were better baseball players than I was at seven and eight years old never made the college teams because they didn’t work as hard as I did all those years. So don’t give up if you really want to do it.
As far as the other problem goes, you know that I can’t leave my mission. But I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes I get homesick, and it really hurts inside when I want to see all of you and can’t. I miss playing baseball with you, Buddy, and going for ice cream and to the movies and talking in the dark after we’ve gone to bed. What I do when I get homesick is pray for strength and comfort. And then I try to forget about myself by helping other people. That seems to work every time.
You can help Elder Watts and me too. Please pray for the Brooks family and Will Landers. And pray that Elder Watts and I can help them.
Love,Reed
P.S. I’m afraid that my glove and bats are too big and awkward for you, but you can try them if you want. And you can have all my baseballs if you promise to wear them out with your practicing.
Dear Reed,
Something awesome just happened! When I got your letter, I tried to do what you said. I prayed for help so that I wouldn’t miss you so much. Then I prayed for the people you’re teaching. Then I thought that maybe I’d write a letter to them. But before I wrote, I got a letter from Bobby Brooks, and he said that you baptized him!
I want you to stay on your mission and find more people who want to learn about the Church. I want you to tell me all about your mission because I want to grow up to be a missionary just like you.
Please tell Bobby that I’ll write a letter to him soon.
I have to go now so that I’ll be on time for baseball practice.
Love,Buddy
(To be continued)

When missionaries entered the Ghana Missionary Training Center on February 27, 2020, little did they know they would be the last group of missionaries to complete their training in those well-known halls for some time. The COVID-19 pandemic stopped many parts of life, but the Lord’s work continued, and His missionaries needed to be trained. The next group of missionaries called were originally to arrive for training at the MTC in Accra on March 19, 2020. Instead, they were the first group in the history of the Ghana MTC to experience their missionary training online, and they began on March 26.
Online training was brand new for missionaries and the trainers. Content taught at the MTC is the same as is taught online, but many adjustments had to be made. Trainers had to learn the Zoom platform, and many had never used it. The transition to online took only a week in the regular missionary training schedule.
Some missionaries struggled with the changes. Elder Ejodamen, from Nigeria, was called to serve in the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission. “I was supposed to report to the MTC May 24, 2020, and that was the period that COVID-19 really hit very hard. So, we were told we would attend the online MTC. It was literally like my dream has been shattered. I have heard wonderful experiences about the MTC. So, I was not going to the MTC. It was a very hard time.”
Local church units also had to adjust. Many newly called missionaries did not have access to stable internet with the amount of data that is required to stream video meetings. The Church Facilities Management group ensured that the required internet and equipment was at stake centers so missionaries could be trained. However, it is not always easy for Church Members to get to church buildings. Several MTC trainees had to move away from home and into apartments with full-time missionaries who were closer to the stake meeting houses.
“I used to stay in the mountain, so my bishop told me I should come and stay with the missionary sisters in the missionary apartment. They used to give me transport to pay bike to come to chapel to take my MTC class,” explained Sister Combay of the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission.
Brother Larios Avana, trainer and MTC second counselor, originally from the Republic of Benin, told of helping a sister who did not know how to use a computer. “She doesn’t know how to press the mouse. Then I move the webcam from the top of the monitor to my desk for her to see my mouse, and I show her, ‘This is where you have to touch. Press here so you can do what you must do.’”
Missionaries already serving in the field were a great help. Sister Combay said, “I did not know how to use computer, but they (sister missionaries) taught me, and I started using the computer. When we had class, I was the one putting on the computer. . . . So, before our instructor came to start class, I already knew how to put computer on and to go onto the system.”
Trainer Emmanuel Dogbey of Ghana explained, “In the MTC, the lessons we teach fall into different categories. We have doctrinal lessons we teach. We have improving finding and teaching skills. We have language and others.”
Teaching adjustments were made. MTC trainer Lorenzo Osei-Tutu from Ghana explained, “We have cards that we show to missionaries, especially language missionaries, and so during the early stages, you want to bring the card to the camera to get them to see what is there. Then maybe someone had a break though that, ‘Hey, you can use this app to design this and then share your screen.’ So, we were still learning the context in where to teach.”
Sister Kainessie, serving in the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission, talked about the early start to online MTC classes. “I have to ride my bike, and also I have to get up around 6:00 because they said we should be at the chapel around 6:30 for us to prepare to get our breakfast.”
Elder Melo, from Mozambique and called to the Ghana Accra West Mission said, “I confess that my first time I was sleeping because they were just speaking English. No one was there to translate, and English was very hard. . . . During that time, they would teach me small, small, little bit, little bit, and I was just understanding some words in English.”
Learning a language is hard work. When students were sitting in a classroom with them, trainers could easily spot someone having difficulty. Avana explained that in language studies, the trainers help the new missionaries to set a specific goal related to learning a language. Perhaps the goal is a number of scriptures to memorize or a number of words to learn in a new language. Then they help the missionaries set a study plan for how they are going to achieve the goal. That same practice applies to online MTC. The trainers, “assign them to mentors, return missionaries in their stake who speak their mission language. They are able to practice with those people outside of class,” explained Avana.
Because the MTC trainers do not have the ability to see the missionaries during breaks, on the sports court, or in the cafeteria like they might in the physical MTC, they make extra efforts to create connections with missionaries attending the virtual MTC. Avana said, “We reach out to them through phone calls even before their training begins. We call them and ask them, ‘Do you have a cell phone? Do you have WhatsApp? Is there anyone nearby that we can call to reach out to you?’ All those options are set before their training begins.” Connections with new missionaries are also accomplished through holding personal interviews.
Sister Combay stated that after she went into the field full-time, “I was missing the MTC because our instructors were so lovely. They were nice to us, and they also teach us the things we should know. Even sometimes they call us for interview, one by one. We talk to them, share our problem with them.”
Just like in the physical MTC, the missionaries in the virtual MTC are organized into districts, a group of missionary companionships that attend all the training together. Within these virtual groups, the connections that are made become close, just like those in the physical MTC.
Ejodamen said, “The online experience with MTC, one thing that stands out for me is the experience I had to meet different people. It was something really very wonderful because we put our minds together, we studied together, we discussed together. But though it was not in physical contact, it was really wonderful. They were really nice people that I saw on the screen. We talked. We laughed, and they were cool MTC instructors that really helped us. My attending online MTC and someone attending real MTC is the same thing.”
Dogbey explained the MTC pattern of teaching a lesson and having a practice activity. “At the end of the lesson, we ask the missionary to set a goal and then make a plan. Identify what time of the day is he going to accomplish that goal.”
Osei-Tutu added that trainers have worked to adapt the lessons to the missionary’s life circumstances. “We ask them to set goals to live by the things they are learning. That experience is playing a huge role to help the missionaries live the doctrine, to understand it more, to change their lives.”
Ghana MTC president, Paul W. Craig, explained that he and his wife have the “responsibility for the ecclesiastical, spiritual, motivational, worthiness, physical and emotional welfare of our missionaries.” From the beginning of online MTC, the Missionary and MTC departments set up that questions, concerns, health, or spiritual issues are to be addressed through stake presidents. The mission president and his wife continue to encourage the spiritual growth of missionaries through weekly devotionals over Zoom.
“Gratefully, the local leaders and stake presidents, they really responded to the Missionary Department’s call to be part of this work,” said Osei Tutu. “Having them at the right hand and seeing them really minister to the missionaries helped in this transition.”
Sister Kpullum, serving in Sierra Leone Freetown Mission, talked about the change in her perspective of online MTC. When she began, she was thinking, “Why us? So, we do have that doubt, but, actually, the online MTC was really good. They do not lack anything. I think our instructors did very well for us. Yeah. They always make sure we have the best learning, that even if we go out there, we will not see things strange. They really taught us to become a good missionary.”
Kainessie said, “The MTC grew me in a way that I learned how to teach and also how to approach my interested members. Even when I went into the field, I did not find it difficult.”
The online MTC has had some unexpected benefits. “For missionaries who come from backgrounds that their parents are not members, they now do not get to just see their children (or siblings) leave and come after two years or 18 months completely changed, but they get to see a portion of that change happen. And I think it is a blessing for missionaries coming from such backgrounds,” said Osei-Tutu.
Dogbey added, “When they leave the MTC online training and get to the field, they are able to also teach interested people and members through online means, through Zoom, WhatsApp, and Messenger. They can easily schedule an appointment with an interested person and teach that person seated in the comfort of their apartment.”
“I feel that is what President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) prophesied about in 1974 that in our time there will be a better trained missionary force.1 We have seen this,” concluded Dogbey.

At the end of that year, I added another thing to my testimony box. The temple. I felt for a while like I needed to go to the temple. I needed to receive my own endowment. I was just 21 at the time, and in those days, women didn’t go through the temple unless they were getting married or going on a mission. I wasn’t getting married, so I assumed that I was supposed to go on a mission. I prayed and prayed and couldn’t get an answer to go on a mission. I went to my branch president and told him my impressions. He calmed my heart and let me know that he had been praying for his own answers recently, and my telling him this impression answered a question that he had been diligently seeking clarity for.

I received a calling in my branch that needed me to be endowed. I went through the temple a few short weeks later. I had a profound experience. It was sacred and has provided me with spiritual clarity ever since. During the years after, I was able to bring people to Christ in a way that only could have been seen by God beforehand. I was able to add both the temple and how interconnected we all are in the eyes of God to my testimony box. He gives us opportunities to be linked together. I was the answer to someone else’s fervent prayer. And in turn, I received my response. God always uses us for good.

Years later I met with Elder Jairo Mazzagardi of the Seventy when he came to reorganize our stake. He asked me about my mission.
Elder Mazzagardi said, “Brother Murilo, I see that you were baptized when you were 16, but you did not serve a mission.”
“I did not serve a mission,” I said, starting to cry.
“But I do everything possible so the Lord will forgive me. I have served as a branch president for seven months, and I try to be a missionary and give my best. I work hard to help others. I want the Lord to forgive me. I do not want this blemish at the last day.”
“Brother Murilo,” he said, “do not look back; look forward. Whoever looks back walks backwards, and whoever looks forward walks forward. You are clean.”
I was happy to hear this! I felt light, happy, and peaceful.
It felt like a six-ton backpack was lifted off my back.
He told me to return with my wife and called me to serve as stake president.
Elder Mazzagardi then said, “Your experiences will help you be stake president. You will be able to help young people who have difficulties or who do not have the support of their parents. You did not have the opportunity to serve a mission, but this is your mission now. You will help send young people on missions.”
As stake president one of my main goals is to help young men and young women prepare to serve missions. The Lord has given me the right words at the right time to talk to these young people. I am grateful the Lord has given me the opportunity to help others choose to serve missions.

One item that is always on the agenda of every class or quorum presidency each month is the members they don’t see very often or at all. The deacons have only a couple of members they don’t see regularly. In the presidency meeting, Mark Jones asks, “Have any of you seen Francisco?”
Royden answers, “Not recently. I think the last time I saw him was two weeks ago.”
Mark says, “I’ll talk to the bishop about it. I think he has a problem getting a ride to church.”
Royden then brings up a project he’s trying to work out. Their ward is so spread out that long-distance telephone calls are required to reach from one area to another. Royden is trying to figure out who can make calls to whom without using long-distance telephone service.
“It’s like the food chain,” explains Royden. The others look at him blankly.
“It’s like bears and deer and grass,” continues Royden. “Something eats something that eats something else, and so on.”
“Oh,” says Jay Venable, first counselor, “like a phone web. That’s a good idea.” And they are soon figuring out a plan to contact the other quorum members without running up phone bills.

When President George Albert Smith was young, his deceased grandfather George A. Smith appeared to him in a dream and asked, “I would like to know what you have done with my name.” President Smith responded, “I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.”1
Each week as we partake of the sacrament, we covenant and promise that we are willing to take upon us the name of Christ, always remember Him, and keep His commandments. If we are willing to do so, we are promised that most wonderful blessing—that His Spirit will always be with us.2
Just as President George Albert Smith had to account to his grandfather for what he had done with his name, someday each one of us will have to account to our Savior, Jesus Christ, for what we have done with His name.
The importance of having a good name is spoken of in Proverbs, where we read: “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold”3 and “The [name] of the just is blessed.”4
As I pondered these scriptures and the importance of having a good name, a flood of memories came into my mind about the good name and legacy my parents left my four brothers, my two sisters, and me. My parents did not have the riches of the world, nor did they have silver or gold. Nine of us lived in a two-bedroom, one-bath home with an enclosed back porch, where my sisters slept. When my parents passed away, my brothers and sisters and I gathered to divide their earthly possessions, which were few in number. My mother left a few dresses, some used furniture, and a few other personal items. My father left some carpenter tools, some old hunting rifles, and little else. The only things of any monetary value were a modest home and a small savings account.
Together we wept openly, giving thanks, knowing they had left us something much more precious than silver or gold. They had given us their love and their time. They had often borne testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, which we can now read in their precious journals. Not so much by words but more by their example, they had taught us to work hard, to be honest, and to pay a full tithing. They also engendered a desire to further our education, to serve a mission, and most important, to find an eternal companion, be married in the temple, and endure to the end. Truly they left us the legacy of a good name, for which we shall ever be grateful.

A number of families in the Richards Bay Ward, Durban South Africa Stake, are enjoying the fruits—or vegetables—of a year-old garden-plot program that began with the help of the full-time missionaries and the Church Welfare Department.
Many of the Church members in the townships surrounding the Richards Bay meetinghouse struggle financially because of high unemployment rates or low wages.
Elder Jack Davidson, a senior missionary serving in the area in 2006, saw a great opportunity in an unused portion of the Church property surrounding the Esikhawini meetinghouse and the excellent gardening skills of a few of the members. Vegetables could be grown year-round, and surplus produce could be readily sold to members of the community.
The Church had purchased property on which three small temporary Church buildings (a chapel and two sets of small classrooms) were built to serve the members’ needs at the time. These buildings, lawns, flowers, and parking occupied only about one-third of the property. The rest, about 45 meters wide by 80 meters long, was in tall, rough grass and weeds. This property was to be used for more permanent buildings as warranted in the future. A security fence surrounds the property.
It took almost six months for Elder Davidson to accumulate the resources to buy the tools, irrigation supplies, and other equipment and to build a secure building to house tools and supplies. The funds came from LDS Humanitarian Services and generous donations from family and friends.
The secure storage building was essential not only for security but for effective use of the site by members. Only a few members in Esikhawini have cars. If they were to try to garden without this building, they would have to carry heavy tools to and from their homes. Anything left on the site could be stolen. Also, some of the new gardeners would not be able to afford tools. With the building in place, members can check the hand and power tools in and out. Part of the overall ward gardening plan is for members and missionaries to take items from this set of tools and equipment to other townships in the ward to help members set up gardens. All the tools and power equipment are portable in a pickup truck.
Beginning in March 2006, more than a dozen full-time missionaries in the Richards Bay Zone of the South Africa Durban Mission set to work to help create the family garden plots and secure building and composting facilities.
Richards Bay Ward bishop Ted Baldwin laid the blocks for the secure building, and others helped as needed with this and the cement work.
Elder Davidson and the rest of the elders focused primarily on clearing the land so the plots could be laid out, the cultivating could get underway in earnest, the irrigation system could be installed, and the gravel could be cleaned out. Youth often turned out to help and to learn to use the equipment. The plots were to be 6 meters by 10 meters with one-meter paths all around.
As each plot was finished and ready for planting, families from the Esikhawini township were ready to take over and plant winter vegetables. Some of the families had already raised seedlings at home in anticipation of the gardens.
The number of individual plots had finally reached the set goal of 30 in early June. Throughout the process, the community took notice of the activities. On most days a few people would stop and ask the members or missionaries questions. Several of these conversations led to missionary lessons.

Sacrifice has always been required of missionaries. Brigham Young recorded: “In company with several of the Twelve I was sent to England in 1839. We started from home without purse or scrip, and most of the Twelve were sick; and those who were not sick when they started were sick on the way to Ohio; Brother Taylor was left to die by the roadside, by old Father Coltrin, though he did not die. I was not able to walk to the river, not so far as across this block, no, not more than half as far; I had to be helped to the river in order to get into a boat to cross it. This was about our situation. I had not even an overcoat; I took a small quilt from the trundle bed, and that served for my overcoat, while I was traveling to the State of New York, where I had a coarse satinette overcoat given to me. Thus we went to England, to a strange land to sojourn among strangers.” (Preston Nibley, Missionary Experiences, Bookcraft, 1975, p. 90.)

Two relevant memories for young fathers. When I was such, I had just received a phone call telling me of a friend’s death in an accident. I was sitting in the living room with tears streaking down my cheeks. Our young son, Cory, saw the tears as he passed in the hallway. I learned that he had anxiously assumed the tears were because he had disappointed me in some way. He didn’t know about the phone call. Brethren, we underestimate how genuinely and frequently our children want to please us.

A couple of months ago, I was going through a rough time and felt that my life was falling apart. I’d been told many times that our trials make us stronger, but remembering that didn’t take away my pain. After one particularly rough day at high school and a stressful evening, I felt alone. I was in the midst of despair, and I couldn’t see a way to overcome what I was feeling. Then I had an overwhelming desire to pray. I resisted at first—that solution seemed too easy to bring the peace I was seeking—but then I changed my mind. I prayed for comfort and for the strength to rise above my trials. As I did so, my pain and grief were taken away and were replaced by an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of peace and joy.
I rarely cry, but that day I wept. That was the moment I really understood that I am a child of God and felt how much I matter to Him. Now, every time I feel alone or am in pain, I pray. Sometimes the relief doesn’t come instantly, but it always comes. Prayer is how I withstand the teasing, temptations, and other hard things that sometimes come into my life. I’m so grateful to have the gospel in my life and to be a child of God.

The 2005 hurricane season in the southern United States and the western Caribbean was the costliest and most devastating on record. Storm after storm lashed at homes and businesses from Honduras to Florida. Thousands of priesthood-directed volunteers were there each time a hurricane struck, providing the necessities to sustain life. Hygiene and cleaning kits, food, water, kitchen sets, bed linen, and other commodities helped clean homes and establish temporary housing.

Brother Michael Kagle took a convoy of trucks loaded with equipment from his own company to Mississippi. Many employees, who are not of our faith, volunteered to go with him every weekend to give assistance in the storm-stricken areas. Walkie-talkies were used for communication along the way. Mike’s high priests group leader, while driving along with them in his pickup truck, said he had white knuckles from driving so fast. Trying to slow the convoy down, he got on the walkie-talkie and said, “Gentlemen, do you realize we are going 80 miles per hour?” One of the truck drivers came on and said, “Well, you have to understand that’s all these big trucks will do. We can’t go any faster.”

Hundreds of letters of gratitude have been received. One woman, a nurse from Mississippi, wrote: “I was speechless. Had God answered my prayers so quickly? Tears immediately began to roll down my cheeks as men in hard hats and boots, with chainsaws of all shapes and sizes, appeared out of the debris. It was absolutely, unequivocally, one of the most supreme sacrifices that has ever happened to me personally.”

Elder Craig Proctor and his companion had to wait for every appointment with Julieta Villanueva Bulan Ledesma, a 5-foot nutrition graduate from Philippine Women’s University and mother of four (a girl and three boys), who had a fierce determination to resist the efforts of the two towering missionaries in converting her to the Church.
She found all the excuses to make them wait expecting that, by taxing them to the limit of their patience, they would be exasperated with her. One time, she started to wash a huge bundle of clothes when the two came for another appointment, hoping that they will get the message and leave her alone, not to return anymore. But, Elder Proctor and his companion were not to be discouraged and, at that time and other times, they held fast to their positions in the battle of the long wait. And, then, the moment long awaited by the diminutive Julieta came. The persistent Elder Proctor was transferred. At last, Julieta thought, the battle of nerves was won by her.
There was no apparent reason for Julieta to shy away from the missionaries. Her husband was then 1st Counselor in the Bishopric under Bishop Robert Evans of Makati I Ward. She was, in fact, already active in Church, serving an assignment as non-member Home Making Teacher under the guidance of Sis. Doris Scott, President of the Makati Ward Relief Society.
She was like any other member, attending Church functions and services, but the thought of baptism was still farthest from her mind. She was determined to remain in the faith she was born into. And, that was that, until …
During an unguarded moment, she saw her husband alone in her room, kneeling in fervent prayer, and a very strong feeling tugged at her heart, knowing that her husband was beseeching the Lord to show her the way and the light.
On July 20, 1974, two years, five months and one week after her husband was converted to the Church, Julieta was baptized at the Quezon City chapel. Elder Proctor was there, and great joy was in their hearts as her husband immersed her in the baptismal font.
Autumn of 1975, on October 1 to be exact, Bro. Craig Proctor stood impatiently at the doorway of his home at Oneida Street in Salt Lake City, waiting … This was the longest wait ever. He was expecting the arrival of two close friends from the Philippines, and the minutes ticked on like days.
And then, two familiar figures came into view. His heart leaped with joy as he ran towards them with tears in his eyes. His two friends from the Philippines also cried unashamedly as they embraced him on the street.
For Bro. Proctor, the missionary who waited and waited, another chapter in his book of life had been written.—P. Ocampo, Jr.
Editor’s Note: On October 6, 1975, Bro. Jacinto L. Ledesma and Sis. Julieta were sealed for eternity in the Salt Lake Temple.

When I was in my last year of Primary, a wonderful older lady named Marth Christensen was our teacher. She helped us learn the Articles of Faith. To this day I still know the Articles of Faith because of what I learned in Primary. We visited Sister Christensen’s home often. It was always a wonderful experience to be there. She taught us cooking skills, and we made cookies and candy. Sometimes we took the treats we had made to somebody who was homebound. The examples of wonderful teachers taught me to serve.

I served as president of the Fiji Suva Mission. One day on the island of Kiribati I was walking with two elders when a man came up to us. He was drunk. I wanted to chase him off, but he saw my name tag and called me by name. “President Tefan, I would like you and your missionaries to come to dinner at my home.”
I thought, “Uh-oh, maybe he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” I turned to the elders and asked, “How do you feel? Would you like to accept the invitation?” They said that they would like to go. I felt impressed to accept his offer.
The following night we all had a nice Chinese dinner—chicken, fish, other meats, and noodles. The missionaries were happy because it was a change from their daily menu of fish and rice. At the end of the dinner, I thanked the man and said, “Now I have a gift I would like to offer you. Would you like these missionaries to teach you the gospel of Jesus Christ?”
He said he wasn’t interested but the missionaries could teach his wife and 18-year-old son. Three months later the son was baptized. One year later the wife was baptized, and her husband started attending church. He asked me for a blessing to help him stop smoking and drinking, and he was able to quit. The last time I visited that family, the son had been admitted to Brigham Young University–Hawaii on a full-tuition scholarship and had also received a mission call to Hong Kong.
When I think back on my experience with that family, I’m glad that I didn’t chase the “drunk man” away but instead followed the prompting of the Spirit to accept the dinner invitation, open my mouth, and ask him to hear the gospel.

For example, 20 years ago I had just finished my mission in England. I had worked in the U.S. prior to going on a mission, and I felt impressed by the Spirit to return to the U.S. to continue working. An application for a green card had been submitted by my company in the United States 18 months earlier, and I began to wonder if it was ever going to come through. I prayed for help, tried hard to be obedient, and waited. One morning as I lay in bed at my parent’s home in England, I heard the postman push the mail through the letter box in the front door of the house. The Spirit immediately confirmed to me that the letter stating the date of my interview at the U.S. embassy had arrived, and I felt that all was going to be well.

On the day of my interview, I traveled to London and sat in the embassy and waited for my interview. Suddenly I noticed an older man come out from a back room and go over to one of the interviewers. With a start I recognized him as an individual I had encountered several years before at the embassy when I was renewing a temporary work visa enabling me to work in the U.S. The temporary visa I had applied for at that time was totally legal, but this fellow seemed to be perturbed and told me that after looking at my passport he thought I looked like a visitor to my own country and that he never expected to see me again at the embassy. As it turned out, the visa I obtained from him was the wrong one, and I had to return to the embassy to get the correct one. Fortunately I didn’t see him on that visit.

Now, several years later, here he was talking to an interviewer, and both of them kept glancing over at me with penetrating stares. I continued to read my book and pretended that I didn’t notice their stares. However, inside me, my stomach was going into spasms, doing all sorts of gastrointestinal gymnastics, and I started to feel nauseated and light-headed as a feeling of panic swept over me.

I began to think I was doomed in my current endeavor to obtain a green card. I said a silent prayer, reminding Heavenly Father that I was only trying to follow spiritual promptings in going back to the U.S. and that I desperately needed His help. The older man returned to his office, and a short while later the interviewer called me over. Everything went smoothly as he told me not to worry about previous comments that had been made about my visas. My panic subsided, and as I walked out of the building, a feeling of elation came over me. I silently expressed my gratitude to my Heavenly Father, and immediately the thought came to my mind “You felt confirmation earlier from Me about the visa. Why did you doubt that I would come through for you?” I felt chagrined at my lack of faith in that difficult moment.

One day when I was 13, we sang “True to the Faith” (Hymns, no. 254) in sacrament meeting, and I thought it was just about the coolest hymn I had ever heard. I thought, Hey, I remember how to play the piano—sort of. At least I remember what a piano is. I convinced myself that, based on what I knew about piano playing, I could learn to play “True to the Faith.”
The only problem was that I didn’t realize “True to the Faith” is also a very difficult hymn to play. It’s written in a key with just one sharp, but lots of extra sharps and flats are thrown in here and there. After six months of practice I learned it, and I was on my way to being a pianist.
I continued with the piano over the next few years and found myself getting better. Heavenly Father increased my abilities, and I improved in sight-reading, improvising, and other related skills. My mother taught me chord theory and some other useful information. I frequently accompanied soloists and was the pianist for priesthood and Sunday School.
In college I played for sacrament meeting in my student ward and also began to create some arrangements of hymns for Christmas and Easter. At this point in my life I was playing the piano a lot.
During all this I received lots of praise. When I was still learning, members of my home ward would encourage me, telling me how well I was doing. Now people would compliment me on my prelude and postlude music, and my rendition of “Called to Serve” (Hymns, no. 249) always drew a few comments. I tried to acknowledge the Lord’s hand in my abilities and not let it go to my head. But sometimes I liked the praise and would do something snazzy with my playing to ensure that I received compliments.
When it came time for my mission I had my father give me a priesthood blessing. Before the blessing, he asked if there was anything in particular I was worried about. I told him I was a little concerned that if I didn’t have much chance to play the piano and write, and all the other things I enjoyed doing, when I came home I would be too rusty. Considering I hoped to make my living doing some of these things, my ability to do them was of major concern to me.
My father gave me a wonderful blessing. In the blessing I was told that while it’s true we need to exercise our talents or lose them, that rule doesn’t apply to missionaries; if I served faithfully, even if I never used my talents once in those two years, when I came home my abilities wouldn’t have diminished but would have increased. What a promise.
I didn’t have much chance to play while I was in the MTC until the night before I left. Those from my branch who were leaving had a meeting together with the branch president for some final words of advice. There were many tears and tender feelings. And I was asked to play the closing hymn, “God Be with You Till We Meet Again” (Hymns, no. 152). This stirred up more emotions and made the Spirit even stronger.
After the closing prayer, which built upon the Spirit we already felt, I played some quiet postlude music as people talked and began to filter out. I played “The Spirit of God” (Hymns, no. 2) very softly on the upper keys. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes just believing in the words of the song you’re playing, and having the Spirit with you, causes you to play so that the people listening feel what you’re feeling. You can actually express your emotions through the way you play the song. It doesn’t always happen (at least not to me), but it happened this time. I really felt what I was playing, and I really wanted to convey a message by the way I played it.
As I played, I noticed that someone was behind me watching and listening. I finished the hymn and quickly glanced to see who it was. It was Elder Smith, someone I didn’t know very well. He was standing there, crying.
He had already felt the Spirit during the meeting, like the rest of us, and now the music was helping to intensify it. So I kept playing.
That’s when it struck me. For perhaps the first time, I was playing the piano, not for my own enjoyment and not to receive praise, but to help someone feel the Spirit. I actually, truly wanted to be an instrument in the Lord’s hands and serve him. In this case, the best way I could serve him was to help convey the Spirit to one of his children through music.