Gospel Story Finder

My conversion to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints started with the word no. It doesn’t sound like a very good place to start anything, but those two letters changed my life. I never dreamed that such a negative word could bring me such joy. I especially didn’t know it at the time.
There was going to be a dance at school, so I asked a friend of mine if he would accompany me. He turned me down. He explained that he was a Mormon and that he had a personal standard to only date young women who were LDS. I was very upset, and I thought he saw me as being beneath him since I wasn’t a member of the same religion. I had been raised to believe that we’re all children of God, and I didn’t understand his view.
He’s not a bad person and he knew I had been hurt by his response, so he called me on the phone so he could explain. We talked for 45 minutes that night. It was strange because I opened up to him completely. We chatted like old friends. He asked me if I would read the Book of Mormon if he gave me a copy. Reluctantly, I said I might (not really believing that I would). He gave it to me the next day, and I got through Second Nephi the first night. I finished it two weeks later. Shortly after that, I wrote this in my journal:
I went to sacramentmeeting today and it was one of those meetings where the members bear their testimonies. It was really moving. I wanted to go up and say something, but I couldn’t. Then my heart started pounding and the Spirit moved me and I knew I had to go up there and speak. I did and I was crying, but I felt good.
I met the missionaries for the first time that night, and a few weeks later I decided to be baptized. After some trials I was baptized. When the day finally arrived, this is what I wrote:
Tonight was my baptism. The water was really warm. Then the bishop confirmed me and then there were lots of people hugging and congratulating me. It finally happened! It really was such a brief wait and I know it was worth it. This has been an amazing day. I have been so blessed.

Shane Aldous steps to the front of his karate class.
“Taegeuk Seven Jang,” he shouts and begins leading students through a complex series of smooth flowing movements called a kata. Shane’s hands move into positions, palms up, fingers together. His eyes wide, alert, he steps into a low stance. Then with practiced precision, a hand moves in a graceful circle, stops, pulls in, and punches upward. A fast high kick follows.
A karate class might seem an unlikely place for missionary work, but for Shane Aldous, 15, and his family, almost any place can present an opportunity.
“Two years ago I was the biggest boy in my class,” Shane explains. “All of the boys who thought they were tough wanted to fight me. But I didn’t want to fight. My mother saw an advertisement in the paper for karate classes and asked if I wanted to take lessons.”
Chol H. Kim, the instructor of the class, teaches TaeKwon Do, a Korean style of karate, which emphasizes both physical and mental discipline. “In TaeKwon Do, character development is as important as physical development. It’s a class rule,” Shane says, “to show respect to your teachers and your parents.”
Shane’s parents and his brother Brad, 14, were so impressed with what Master Kim was teaching that they also signed up for his classes. “We do things as a family whenever we can,” Shane says.
Because they worked together and could help each other learn, the Aldous family progressed rapidly.
Brad and Shane began entering karate tournaments, and at the United States National Junior Olympics they took top honors in their divisions. Shane brought home a silver medal, and Brad won two gold medals.
From the time the Aldous family enrolled in his school, Master Kim had been watching them closely. There was something about them that made them stand out from other people. “I was impressed by the support they gave each other,” he says. “And by the emphasis they put on family and personal growth and development.”
Eventually the Aldous family invited Master Kim to church. He began taking the missionary lessons and was baptized.
Not long after he was baptized, one of his students, Gloria Lee, 19, was also baptized.
“I thought Master Kim was making a terrible mistake,” she says. “I’d heard some bad things about the Mormons. I didn’t want him to become involved in what I thought was a false religion and ruin his whole life. I decided to so something about it, so I confronted him and some other members of the Church. But I had a lot of questions about my own religion, and everything I learned about Mormonism made sense. I couldn’t deny it. I started taking discussions from the missionaries, and instead of saving Master Kim from the ‘terrible’ religion, I ended up being baptized myself. I am very lucky. My family belongs to another church, and they worry about me the way I worried about Master Kim. It’s not easy, but I’ve never regretted being baptized. The Church is true. The Aldous family has always been a good example for me. Without them I would not have found the Church.”
Accorind to Shane, working together as a family and living and knowing gospel principles are important keys to being successful missionaries. “You never know when people are watching you,” he says. “Or when they are going to become interested and start asking questions.”

I recently heard some experiences of families of suicide victims that give hope to others who are suffering. I must point out that individual spiritual experiences of Church members do not determine Church doctrine. Still, these experiences are compatible with the ideas we have been discussing. The first experience deals with a young woman whose father took his life when she was five years old. The father was not a member of the Church, nor was the daughter until many years later.
“As I was growing up,” she says, “I had the subtle feeling that there was something my father very much wanted me to do for him. I had been taught in my church that he had murdered himself and was in hell. But it seemed to me that even though he had been wrong to kill himself, he had thought he was doing the family a favor. (He was an alcoholic who couldn’t get rid of the habit.) I began to search the Bible to see what might have happened to him. As time went by, I came to know that he had somehow suffered through his problems—and that now he needed me to do something for him. I kept thinking, ‘But what can you do for someone who is already dead?’ And the answer would come, ‘Someday, if you keep searching, you will know.’
“Eventually I was baptized into the Church. When I first heard of baptism for the dead, I was overwhelmed. Now I knew what my father wanted me to do! I did the necessary work and sent his name to the Idaho Falls Temple, where I had the privilege of seeing a brother baptized by proxy for my father. His endowment work was done the same month. I have a strong feeling that he has accepted both ordinances and is greatly blessed by it.”

When I visit places I’ve never seen before, I try to find a small Nativity scene that reminds Rosana and me of the Savior. I’m building quite a collection.
While contemplating those humble Nativity scenes, my wife and I once pondered, “What is it that truly matters most in our lives?” The answer, of course, is the Savior, His gospel, and our family. To remind us of our Heavenly Father’s love for us and that it is through the Savior that the promise of eternal families becomes possible, before Christmas a few years ago we placed all our Nativities on two big shelves in our home—and left them up rather than put them away after the Christmas holidays. That tradition helps us keep the spirit of Christmas in our home year-round.
Every day as we look at those Nativity scenes, they gently remind us of the Savior’s central role in our lives. They remind us that peace on earth now (see Luke 2:14) and eternal happiness in the next world depend on the Savior and on honoring the covenants we have made with Him. And they remind us “that he came into the world, even Jesus, to be crucified for the world, and to bear the sins of the world, and to sanctify the world, and to cleanse it from all unrighteousness;
“That through him all might be saved whom the Father had put into his power and made by him” (Doctrine and Covenants 76:41–42).

My mother still speaks fondly of “the wonderful time” she and my father had on their senior mission at the Church’s Deseret Ranches in central Florida, USA—a mission that almost didn’t happen.
After decades of working as an engineer for several companies, Dad finally started his own construction business. Things went well until his financial officer embezzled the company into bankruptcy. With the loss of their business, my parents also lost the comfortable retirement they had anticipated.
I thought a mission was out of the question for them until the day they excitedly phoned to say they had been called to serve. Soon, they found themselves on the Church’s sprawling 300,000-acre (121,405 ha) ranch in Deer Park, Florida.
The ranch is primarily a cow-calf operation, but it also dedicates hundreds of acres to citrus production and other products and projects. My parents and six other senior couples spent most of their time cleaning, repairing, and maintaining dozens of homes for cowboys, ranch workers, and their families. They also served in the Orlando Florida Temple and in their ward in nearby Deer Park. As soon as they arrived, they went to work.
While Jerry Morris cleans a refrigerator (above), Ivan Morris (below, left) and Albert Liston replace a window.
Photographs courtesy of the author
“Little did we know about the needs for upkeep and all that is required to maintain the housing units here,” my father wrote to us. He said they worked Monday through Wednesday and served in the temple on Thursdays.
“Then, Friday, back to work, which includes all phases of housing work and cleanup: door, window, carpet, and wall repair; pulling nails, spackling, priming, and painting. Two other elders do the plumbing and electrical. The list goes on and on.”
My mother and the other sisters cleaned the homes—“from floor to ceiling.” My mother also painted. The sisters took a break on Tuesdays to do family history work at the Cocoa Florida Family History Center.
“I just can’t believe all of this is happening for Grandpa and me,” my mother wrote. “We really feel that this is where we are supposed to be, doing more and more each day. We really are blessed. Having all of you saying prayers for us is making our time here very special.”
My parents served while they were in their 70s. I wondered if they were working too hard, but they seemed to thrive despite the workload.
“We miss not seeing you, but what a blessing it is being here,” my mother said. “Grandpa and I love what we are doing here helping in the Lord’s work. Our testimonies are growing each day.”
During their 18-month mission, my parents missed their family, especially the grandchildren. But they loved serving alongside other senior couples and the members of their Florida ward.
“The other sweet senior missionaries are great,” my mother wrote. “Dad and I feel at home with all of them. Some have health problems and family problems. We all help each other in many ways.”
My parents loved their ward callings, and they felt right at home in their ward.
“The members here in the Ellsworth Ward are as close as any family could be. They take care of each other,” my mother told us. “They are such special Saints. They show their love to us missionaries every day. It’s nice being a small part of their life.”
My parents’ temple service on Thursdays was another highlight of each week.
“While we are there, the cares of the world are locked outside,” my father wrote. “It is a real joy to be serving in the Lord’s house.”
Photograph of Orlando Florida Temple by David Bowen Newton
As outdoor enthusiasts, my parents felt blessed to serve in an area teeming with wildlife and picturesque landscapes.
“Our mission is full of great surprises. What a wonderland,” my father wrote. “We see lots of animals. Deer abound. We can look out our dining room window and see sandhill cranes. We have even seen a few alligators. In summation, this is a very beautiful place.”
“Our mission is full of great surprises,” my father wrote.
Photograph courtesy of the author
In one letter, my mother wrote, “Dad and I watched a cattle roundup a few weeks ago. What a sight!” In another, she said: “The sunsets are spectacular. If I could paint one, I would. The sky is so high here, and the stars are so bright that it seems you could almost touch them. But we don’t like being on these roads after dark. You don’t know what kinds of critters are going to jump out!”
In my mother’s words, their mission was “a humbling and faith-growing time.” Like missionaries everywhere, they found joy and spiritual growth as they lost themselves in service. They shared those blessings in counsel to their grandchildren.
“Grandma and I feel that service to others and living a gospel-based life is so important,” my father wrote. “So, set your personal goals higher than what is standard for average society.” In another letter, he said, “Stay close to the Lord. Don’t let the world get to you.”
My mother added, “Be happy, full of love and service always.”
As their mission came to a close, my mother wrote: “It’s going to be hard to leave. Many blessings have come our way. We have made good friends. But we are so excited to be home and see you all again.”
My parents had been home more than 10 years before I learned how much they had sacrificed in order to serve. But, after much discussion and many prayers, they mustered their faith and accepted a call. They never regretted it, and they often reflected on how their mission blessed them during and after their service.
“This mission has been so much more than we could have hoped for,” my mother wrote toward the end of their mission. “We have never felt so close to the Lord as we have here. He is helping us in everything we are doing. We are at our best here and loving it all.”

Finances became a major concern. I had enough money in the bank to cover 11 of the remaining 15 months of my mission and hoped Mom could get enough together for the remaining four. My plans for college were now pushed back into the realm of hopes and dreams. However, the Lord takes care of his missionaries.
I received a letter from my mother telling me that I needn’t worry about finances anymore. A man had contacted my bishop and asked if he could support me for the rest of my mission. This is not too unusual, since there are many good-hearted men in the Church, but the twist in this instance was in what the man told my bishop: “I’m not a member of your church, but out of the love and respect I have for Horace Rappleye, I’d like to support his son for the rest of his mission.” And he did. For 15 months the money was placed regularly in my bank account by the anonymous benefactor.
He remains anonymous to this day.

We can teach the importance of prayer to our children and grandchildren both by word and by example. I share with you a lesson in teaching by example as described in a mother’s letter to me relating to prayer. “Dear President Monson: Sometimes I wonder if I make a difference in my children’s lives. Especially as a single mother working two jobs to make ends meet, I sometimes come home to confusion, but I never give up hope.”

Her letter continues as she describes how she and her children were watching general conference, where I was speaking about prayer. Her son made the comment, “Mother, you’ve already taught us that.” She asked, “What do you mean?” Her son replied, “Well, you’ve taught us to pray and showed us how, but the other night I came to your room to ask something and found you on your knees praying to Heavenly Father. If He’s important to you, He’ll be important to me.” The letter concluded, “I guess you never know what kind of influence you’ll be until a child observes you doing yourself what you have tried to teach him to do.”

Another provider of brilliant sunshine is the Howard Family. Carol and Lee have established a remarkable legacy in their neighborhood. Each month, they host a wonderful dinner for all of the widows and newcomers in their ward and related neighborhood. A carefully crafted invitation is sent to each individual, inviting him or her to come to dinner. When these sisters and others come to their home, they enjoy a wonderful social and a scrumptious meal--gifts cheerfully given by Lee and Carol and gifts gladly received by the sweet widowed sisters and newcomers.

My mother, Marcia Egan, now 91, loves attending this social each month in the company of her contemporaries and newcomers. She believes Carol and Lee are well on their way to sainthood now. They have been doing this for 10 years. They do this out of the best kind of motivation, love. They, like the Savior, are going about doing good. In doing so, they are becoming like Him.

I once met with a woman who was suffering from depression, low self-esteem, who continually made poor decisions in her life and she was miserable. As a child, she had been sexually abused for a number of years and she never quite got her life off the ground. I remember how sad I was when I heard her life story. After she left my office, I fell upon my knees and cried to the Lord, asking Him to heal her and make her happier.

At a subsequent session, I shared with her a talk given by the Apostle, Elder Richard G. Scott, in which he said: "I solemnly testify that when another's acts of violence, perversion, or incest hurt you terribly, against your will, you are not responsible and you must not feel guilty. You may be left scarred by abuse, but those scars need not be permanent. In the eternal plan, in the Lord's timetable, those injuries can be made right as you do your part."

Her part, she decided after much pondering, was to live the gospel principles. Then she read in 3 Nephi 12:43-44, [slide 3]"And behold it is written also, that thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy; But behold I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you and pray for them who despitefully use you and persecute you."

This woman realized that she had been filled with feelings of hate, shame, worthlessness and guilt. [end slide 3][slide 4, blank] She realized that what was important was not the past in itself but how she was responding to the past. She realized that she did not have to see life in such a discolored, dysfunctional way and continue in the same pattern.. She began the process of changing her thoughts, softening her heart, trusting again, finding value in herself, understanding her great worth as a child of God and understanding the depth of love that the Savior had for her.

As her level of spirituality increased, she allowed the great Atonement to heal her. In time, she became a changed person, happier, more cheerful, more loving, more confident. She had listened to the counsel of an Apostle and the scriptures and then she had taken positive action. This woman has done remarkable things with her life since then for she let the Lord into her heart and now, her life is a fulfilling one.

by Deborah J. Lingle
The Young Women of the Battleground Ward, Vancouver Washington West Stake, responded to a challenge. Their advisers encouraged each girl to purchase a Book of Mormon or A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, write her testimony inside, and give it to a nonmember.
Catching the spirit of the challenge of missionary work, the 13 girls managed to give away 22 books in eight months.
After prayerful consideration, Jennifer Goodner, a Mia Maid, felt inspired to place her book with a friend at school. The friend thanked her and said she’d been waiting for Jennifer to approach her because she had so many questions about the Church.
Each girl had experiences that were unique. Alyce Clark, a Mia Maid, managed to place seven books by herself, one to a man who had rejected the Book of Mormon for many years.
The project was an overwhelming success. The process of writing their testimonies helped the girls to examine their beliefs and grow closer to their Heavenly Father. The experience also gave the girls the self-confidence to speak out about the gospel.

It begins as a big, fleecy bundle. Ruth Kandler, 14, and her sisters, Helga, 17, and Petra, 11, are often waiting at the door when their father brings the wool home. He has traveled high into the Austrian Alps to purchase it from the shepherds, who have already sheared it from the backs of their flocks, washed it, and carded it to remove burrs and align fibers. Straightening the fibers allows the wool to be spun into yarn.
This time, there is a surprise. Along with the usual white and gray wool from the milk sheep, Brother Kandler has brought back a smaller bale of dark brown wool, the wool of the mountain sheep. The young ladies are excited, because even though the short black fibers are more difficult to spin, they add variety and color when the homespun yarn is knitted into clothing for school and work.
One of the most prized possessions in the Kandler household is an antique spinning wheel more than 100 years old. There are several other spinning wheels of varying ages to accompany it, enough so that everyone in the family can spin at the same time and still invite one friend to join in.
The spinning itself, once learned well, is not a difficult art. “I learned to do it in three days,” Petra says. Brother Kandler, watching his wife teach his daughters, learned the technique in just one day and seems to enjoy spinning as much as the rest of the family.
“It’s relaxing just to sit and spin,” Ruth says. “You can talk or just think and still be making something at the same time.” It’s also obvious the daughters enjoy spending a little time occasionally practicing the craft with their parents. They smile, laugh, and tell jokes. When Petra’s yarn doesn’t seem to wind quite right, her older sisters help her remedy the problem as Sister Kandler nods her head approvingly.
Electricity is expensive in the small town of Eugendorf where the Kandlers live, so the work is done by the sunlight that filters through the windows and reflects from the walls, setting the room aglow. Helga strums her guitar as the others pump foot pedals up and down and carefully twist the wool through their fingers, guiding it onto spools. Her chord patterns and clear voice seem infinitely more appropriate than a blaring radio or a chatty television set. “We share the real experience of doing things together,” Brother Kandler says, “We don’t have a T.V.” Sometimes friends, like 11-year-old Michele Make who lives nearby, come over to join in the fun.
Today, because it’s a special occasion (a photographer has come to take their picture), the entire family has put on costumes typical of their region. Like most Austrians, they wear the traditional clothing from time to time during the year as part of their regular wardrobe. But it is fairly rare to find all of them in costume on the same day. Helga says that having the costumes is practical, “It’s handy, because they never go out of fashion,” she adds. “Teenagers, children, parents—everyone wears them. But we wear other things, too, like dresses and jeans.”
The wool is for making sweaters, gloves, mittens, and stockings. Helga says it’s enjoyable to be able to wear homemade clothing to school, “Most of the other children are enchanted by it,” she says. “They go home and try to make theirs in the same way.” Sister Kandler, who began spinning just a few years ago (she learned how from friends), says hand-knit clothing is popular throughout Austria, but buying it in the stores is much too expensive. (It costs about 2,000 shillings, or $150, to buy a handmade sweater in a store. Brother Kandler buys an entire kilo of wool in the mountains for 500 shillings.) The Kandler’s make their yarn from pure, natural wool (it’s not dyed, so the lanolin, which waterproofs the fiber and makes it a good insulator, is preserved). Add to that the fact that the clothing they make serves as a constant reminder of hearth and home, and it becomes nearly priceless.
Helga says the Kandlers have found that their talent has helped them make friends and fellowship Church members in the Salzburg (Austria) Ward, Germany Munich Stake, where they attend church, and elsewhere. During the winter, which is the season when most of the spinning is done, a group of Church families from Germany and Austria (Eugendorf, near Salzburg, is about 30 kilometers from the German border) gathers for instruction and for the pleasure of working together. “Many people return home with a new skill and with a more valuable way to spend their spare time,” Helga says. Sister Kandler also features spinning instruction as part of her Relief Society homemaking lessons, and her daughters help her demonstrate.

Over the years I have had problems that I have not been able to overcome by myself. Once when I had such a problem, I remembered President Benson’s challenge to read the Book of Mormon. I took the book from the shelf and began to read. I was surprised! The answers to my problems were there in the scriptures.
From that time on, the scriptures have become very special to me, and I have learned to consult the scriptures whenever I have a problem. The Lord gave us the scriptures for our instruction and to comfort us when we are feeling low. They guide us along the right path.
Gilbert F. Ceniza, 19Tetuan Ward, Zamboanga StakePhilippines

Don Dewey was a nonmember and one of Ken’s friends stationed aboard a sister minesweeper. He wanted to discover the loopholes in Church doctrine so he could point out to Ken the error of his decision to be baptized. So when the three men returned from sea, Don decided to join Willis and Ken at sacrament meeting in Charleston.

But Don never did find the loopholes. Instead, after months of intensive study, he also chose to become a member of the Church.

For the youth in one ward in Maryland, USA, acting and theater are more than just a hobby. “It’s my happy place,” says Mary A., a high school senior. “Our theater group has a really strong family vibe.”
The youth in this ward have many different hobbies and interests. Theater, though, is common ground. “All of us are involved in theater,” says Sonja G., also a senior. “It’s a really good place to get together and make something great.”
For this group, the appeal of the open stage is obviously a big one.
So it wasn’t a small thing when an upcoming school play was announced that made them feel uncomfortable.
“I had no idea what this particular show was about,” says Nathan H., a senior. However, he soon got the feeling that the play in question wasn’t just any old production. A few friends from school started asking him if he planned to actually audition this time. Intrigued by why they’d ask, Nathan did some research.
“I looked into it and made a decision based on what I found that I wasn’t going to be a part of this show.”
He wasn’t the only one. “Once I learned about the story, I didn’t audition,” says Carolyn K., a junior. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be up there on stage to show these characters.”
This wasn’t merely a matter of waiting for the next show to come around, either. For the seniors, it would be one of their last chances to perform at school. This was also the only musical of the year. “It was devastating,” Mary says about the prospects of not being in a show with her friends.
Sonja, who would have been stage manager for the musical, also chose not to join. “There was not really a way for me to do my job and not watch the things I wasn’t comfortable with,” she says.
One by one each of the youth in the ward decided not to participate.
The director asked the students to please reconsider, but their decision held. Soon, the director paid the rights for the show (payment which could not be refunded), auditions were held, and parts were cast. Everything was looking like a done deal.
And then along came a snowstorm.
Right when things were getting rolling with the musical, an enormous snowstorm shut down that part of Maryland. They were out of school for over a week.
During this time their theater director—who some of these youth think of as a kind of second dad—gave the matter a lot of thought. This director, who is a Christian from another faith, had been praying about what to do. Before school resumed after the big storm, the drama group got some big news. Mary said, “He sent a text. The text said, ‘I’ve been praying and I don’t feel right leaving out the Mormon kids. You’ve got until Tuesday to come up with a monologue and a song.’” (That’s theater-speak for get ready to audition.)
Yes, the director decided to drop the original musical entirely. And just like that, the curtain beckoned once more.
“We were all really excited!” Carolyn said.
The youth all jumped at the chance to help in the new production and have enjoyed rolling up their theatrical sleeves once more.
Now, not all stories of this nature can have this kind of a happy ending (on or off the stage). Most of the time, choosing not to participate in something inappropriate doesn’t result in such a significant reversal. But even realizing that they’d be missing out on one of their favorite interests, the youth were at peace with their choice. “I had finally come to terms that it’s OK,” Mary said.
From the start, this group of youth kept each other strong and helped one another live the gospel. “It was easier for us to stand up for our beliefs because there was more than just one of us,” says Sonja. “It’s good when you have friends and you can stand together.”

George Gilman, 16, Joe Vance, 16, and Kirk Moses, 16, all attend the Vancouver Eighth Ward, Vancouver Washington West Stake. They each served alongside the full-time missionaries for one week.

“We were out tracting and had been turned down five times in a row,” Kirk said. “Then a woman answered the door and invited us in. She said she’d been looking at a lot of different churches and she listened to everything we said. Then she asked if we could come back again the next day. The full-time missionaries have been teaching her ever since!”

Carrying a friend on a ten-mile mountain hike under the hot summer sun may not sound like a great way to spend a day of youth conference, but Todd Beam and Zach Reed of the Seattle Washington Shoreline Stake did just that. The hike would have been nearly impossible for their friend, Travis Freeman, because of physical impairments that require him to walk with crutches. Impossible, that is, without the help of a few good friends.
“Zach and I were on the committee that planned the youth conference. We wanted Travis to be with us,” says Todd. “We just had to figure out a way.”
With the help of a friend, Todd’s dad built a sort of cart with a seat in the middle for Todd and Zach to carry Travis up the mountainside. Dubbed the “Travis Trolley” it became a symbol for the conference, which focused on overcoming trials and giving service.
“I actually think it was harder for Travis than it was for Zach or me,” says Todd. “He had to hold himself up the whole time, and that was hard work.”
Travis, Todd, and Zach were put in the first of eight hike groups, so that if they fell behind, there would be seven more groups of youth and leaders to assist them. Trailing just slightly behind them was another boy, Layne Mohlman, who carried Travis’s crutches to be used at the conclusion of the hike. Even when the handles came off the cart three quarters of the way to the final destination, the boys didn’t give up. Zach carried Travis the rest of the way on his back!
The hike concluded in a large meadow, which, Todd reports, “felt just like coming into the promised land.” Though all the boys were tired, they were happy and proud of their accomplishments. Best of all, Travis had been able to experience the first true hike of his life.
All participants in the conference were given bracelets to wear as a reminder of the theme of the conference. The inscription on the bracelets read: “All these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he? Therefore, hold on thy way” (D&C 122:7–9).
As Zach, Todd, Layne, and Travis learned, sometimes, “holding on thy way” means holding on to a friend.

Both of my parents joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Kenya, and both served full-time missions. Ever since I was young, they taught me that I should serve a mission too. I looked forward to it.
Nine months before I received my call, I moved from Kenya to New Jersey, USA, where my mother was working. When I turned in my mission application, I thought it would be cool to go back to Africa on my mission. In fact, I hoped to be called there.
But when I received my mission call, I learned that I would be going to the Washington Spokane Mission in the United States. I didn’t even know where that was, but the first thought the Spirit spoke to my mind was, “That is where the Lord needs you.”
When I landed in Spokane a few months later, the mission president greeted me and asked me a question: “I was looking at your application. Do you really speak Swahili?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I grew up speaking Swahili and English.”
“Well, then,” he said, “your mission call has been changed from English speaking to Swahili speaking.”
He had been praying for a missionary who could speak Swahili. Some elders in the mission had even tried to learn Swahili on their own. I soon found out why.
Spokane had received a large group of refugees from the east African nations of Tanzania, Kenya, Burundi, Rwanda, and Uganda. Many of those refugees originally came from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Their Swahili was a little different from what I spoke, but we could understand each other. I ended up spending my whole mission in the same ward in Spokane teaching those refugees.
We are all children of God. He knows us and will use us in areas where we can best serve Him with our unique abilities. This is His work. It is not our work. He puts us where He knows best. When missionaries get their call, they may not be going where they wanted to go, but the Lord is for sure sending them where He wants them to go. The place He sends them is the land where He has prepared people to receive them.
When I arrived in Spokane, I felt like I didn’t have to go to Africa after all. In Spokane, I felt like I was brought to a little Africa in America.
Sometimes I think about my mission and say, “That was too big for me to be a part of. Was I really supposed to be a part of that?”
I’m humbled and grateful to think I was.

Then something unfortunate happened to John Borrowman—because of exhaustion, he fell asleep on guard duty. He drifted off for just a few moments, but a watchful sergeant reported him. In time of war this was an offense punishable by death. The Mormon soldiers were subject to their army commanders and military law, and John was immediately imprisoned. During the next few weeks, he read a friend’s copy of the Book of Mormon, which brought him a great deal of comfort.
After he was set free, it was determined that his release had been an error, and John reluctantly returned to jail. He wrote in his journal that he was lonely and uncomfortable, for “I have no bedding … but my blanket and a cold damp brick floor to lie on” (Journal of John Borrowman, 1846–1860, Church Historical Department, microfilm, 22). When his case was heard, he was sentenced to three additional days in guard quarters and three hours each day in the cells; three dollars of his pay were also withheld. Though grateful that his life was spared, he felt this was a great burden and prayed to the Lord to be relieved of it. His deliverance came in an unusual fashion. When the regular army colonel was informed of the sentence of the court, he was disgusted at its leniency. Yet he didn’t have the power to overturn it. So he set it aside, saying it was better to have no punishment than one that was so light. John accepted this as an answer to his earnest prayers.

I have learned so much from so many of the faithful saints throughout our Area who have endeavoured to become self-reliant. I would like to share with you the story of Thatayaone Pule, who resides in Kanye, Botswana. I have known him ever since he was in Primary and have watched him grow up in the Church.

His parents were not members of the Church, so he went through the youth program being ministered to by others who treated him like their own son. At the age of 19 he served a mission. After his mission he returned home and got married immediately. Since he and his wife, Lesego, were so young and at that stage had not completed their tertiary education, the two of them did odd jobs together like clearing people’s yards and washing their laundry, in order to earn an income. They went on to buy and sell fruits and vegetables. With their savings, they opened a little internet café. He later got a job as a security camera installer. Because of his reliability, he was promoted to become a supervisor and four years later he was promoted to become site manager. This did not stop him from continuing his self-reliance endeavours. He then got into breeding dogs and this led him to his true passion—that of farming! He sold his dogs, and with the income he bought goats and later cattle.

Eventually, Thatayaone bought himself a huge piece of farmland where he is currently ploughing maize, watermelons, beans and sorghum. As their circumstances improved, Sister Pule went on to study for a diploma in business management.

This good family has learned to apply the things learned at church in their daily lives. Thatayaone has been serving as bishop for the past few years and has become a great blessing to his family, the members of the Church and many others in the community who have turned to him for guidance when it comes to self-reliance matters. In one of my conversations with Bishop Pule I asked him how all this started, and his answer was: “it all started after I attended a provident living workshop on mission.”

I recently learned a valuable lesson about seeing deeply from a young woman named Rozlyn.
The story was shared with me by my friend who was devastated when her husband of 20 years moved out. With her children splitting time between parents, the prospect of attending church alone seemed daunting. She recounts:
“In a church where the family is of paramount importance, sitting solo can be painful. That first Sunday I walked in praying no one would speak to me. I was barely holding it together, and tears were on the brink. I sat in my typical spot, hoping no one would notice how empty the bench seemed.
“A young woman in our ward turned and looked at me. I pretended to smile. She smiled back. I could see the concern in her face. I silently pleaded that she wouldn’t come to talk to me—I had nothing positive to say and knew I would cry. I looked back down at my lap and avoided eye contact.
“During the next hour, I noticed her looking back at me occasionally. As soon as the meeting ended, she made a beeline for me. ‘Hi, Rozlyn,’ I whispered. She wrapped me in her arms and said, ‘Sister Smith, I can tell today is a bad day for you. I’m so sorry. I love you.’ As predicted, the tears came as she hugged me again. But as I walked away, I thought to myself, ‘Maybe I can do this after all.’
“That sweet 16-year-old young woman, less than half my age, found me every Sunday for the rest of that year to give me a hug and ask, ‘How are you?’ It made such a difference in how I felt about coming to church. The truth is I started to rely on those hugs. Someone noticed me. Someone knew I was there. Someone cared.”
As with all gifts the Father so willingly offers, seeing deeply requires us to ask Him—and then act. Ask to see others as He does—as His true sons and daughters with infinite and divine potential. Then act by loving, serving, and affirming their worth and potential as prompted. As this becomes the pattern of our lives, we will find ourselves becoming “true followers of … Jesus Christ.” Others will be able to trust our hearts with theirs. And in this pattern we will also discover our own true identity and purpose.
My friend recalled another experience while sitting in that same empty pew, alone, wondering if 20 years of effort to live the gospel in her home was all for naught. She needed more than calming reassurance; she needed vision. She felt a question pierce her heart: “Why did you do those things? Did you do them for the reward, the praise of others, or the desired outcome?” She hesitated for a moment, searched her heart, and was then able to answer confidently, “I did them because I love the Savior. And I love His gospel.” The Lord opened her eyes to help her see. This simple but powerful change of vision helped her continue to press on with faith in Christ, despite her circumstances.