Gospel Story Finder

This past week I received a letter from our daughter concerning our 14 year old granddaughter, Zoe, and the impact on her life of starting at a new school with an outstanding group of teachers. Let me just share a portion of that letter

"As you know, we've been very worried about Zoe. Last year she didn't seem to learn much at school, never seemed to have homework, and didn't feel challenged at school. We were afraid that she might just be turning into a lazy teenager. So this fall we put her in a new school, and wow, what a difference. They have incredible teachers who are focused on teaching not just the disciplines but ethics and community as well. And now all of the sudden, Zoe loves going to school, she's learning a ton, she's doing hours of homework every day without any complaining, and she's turned into a responsible, grown-up, careful student. It's an incredible transformation. I think you'll notice when you see her."

Whenever I’m having a hard day, I like to read the New Era. I always find that it helps me cheer up. February 2007’s issue came exactly on one of those days. I was sick and couldn’t go to school. That night I read the New Era and found the article “Don’t Face the World Alone.” It included a couple of scriptures that helped me regain happiness. The article itself said that if we can have faith in the Lord and obey Him, we can have good things happen to us and we can help other people. After that, I felt inspired to read the rest of the articles.Wryn W., Colorado

I take a lot of hard classes, so typically I get home from school and am overwhelmed by my workload. By the end of the night, I am exhausted. This leads to superficial scripture study and prayer.

But this year I changed things. I started reading my scriptures before doing my homework. This made a tremendous change in my life. After reading my scriptures, I could get my homework done much faster, and even had extra time after. I’ve received more guidance on how to face my challenges and even help my friends. As I study the scriptures with the challenges of the school day fresh on my mind, I receive specific guidance for facing those challenges.

The Lord never leaves us alone. As I have prioritized things of God, I have learned that He always prepares a way for us to accomplish the things He commands of us (see 1 Nephi 3:7).

Rozlyn N., 17, Arizona, USA

After a disastrous earthquake in Europe, I visited camps where those displaced by the earthquake lived. I met many families living in tents. They didn’t know who I was or that the Church would bring assistance. But as I met with them, the very first thing they did was put something to eat or drink in my hands with smiles on their faces.

These people had lost everything. I was there to serve them. But they found it in their hearts to serve. This brought me joy and reminded me that one of the best ways to know Jesus Christ in a deep and profound way is to serve Him by serving God’s children.

When I was 15 years old, I gained a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and was so happy to join the Church. At the time, I was working to help support my family. Not long after I was baptized, however, I lost my job.
I needed to find a new job soon because my family depended on me, but every job I applied for required that I work on Sundays. I turned down many job offers because I knew that I needed to be at church on Sundays (see D&C 59:9–10).
After two months of searching, I still hadn’t found a job. My mom was not a member of the Church, and although she believed in God, she was very angry that I was passing up so many jobs.
One night she looked at me with tears in her eyes and asked, “Why is God letting this happen to us when you are so faithful in doing what is right?”
I replied, “Mom, I don’t know why this is happening to us, but I do know that I am doing the right thing, and I know that God will bless us for it.”
The next morning someone offered me a considerable amount of money to spend two days moving some heavy cargo from one house to another. The work was strenuous, but when I received the money, I went straight home and offered a prayer of gratitude. I soon found a good job that allowed me to take Sundays off, and I haven’t been unemployed since.
I am glad that I chose to keep the Sabbath day holy. There are many challenges in life, but I know that if we strive to be strong despite those challenges, the Lord will bless us.

Let me share with you the effects of spiritually preparing a family through many generations.

Henry Arline lived from 1841 to 1919. In 1898, at 57 years old, he heard the missionaries preach the gospel in a schoolhouse in the state of Florida in the United States. He told his wife, “For the first time, I have heard the truth.” He and his family were baptized. A few years later they traveled by train to Utah, a trip of more than 2,000 miles, so they could receive the sealing ordinances of the temple. He returned to Florida and remained true and faithful the remainder of his life.

His daughter was Sophronia Arline Williams, and her son was James Bernard Williams. Bernard Williams met a beautiful young lady, Martha Aman. She honestly investigated the Church, developed a firm testimony, and was baptized.

Eight years after their marriage, they were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple with their three children. Their little daughter was Kathy Williams, whom I met years later at BYU and begged her to be my wife. We now have four children and 13 grandchildren.

I will forever be thankful for Kathy’s righteous mother and her righteous great-grandfather who joined the Church and remained true and faithful all the rest of their lives. These two people never knew each other in mortality. They lived at different times. Yet they are captains in the Lord’s cause, helping to bring our family with them because of their spiritual choices.

“Don’t you just love running?” Olivia asked Ivy as the girls sat tying the laces of their shoes.
Ivy focused on her shoelaces and didn’t answer. All the fifth graders were training for the school’s mile race that would take place in a few weeks.
“Let’s go!” Olivia jumped to her feet and ran to the starting line.
Ivy watched Olivia’s athletic body glide across the lawn. Ivy stretched her legs out in front of her and reached to touch her toes, but her fingertips barely passed her knees. She sighed. “Why does running come so easily to everyone but me?” Ivy thought.
Ivy was tall for her age and broader than the other girls. Whenever she complained about her body, her parents would say, “You’re strong and healthy, and that’s what matters.” Still, Ivy always felt awkward when she participated in sports.
“Are you coming, Ivy?” her teacher, Mrs. Barrett, called. Mrs. Barrett was always encouraging.
“Yes, I’m coming.” Ivy walked to the starting line.
The race began. Ivy tried to push herself so she wouldn’t be the last one to the finish line. But then she had to stop and walk to catch her breath. When she crossed the finish line last again, Mrs. Barrett told her she had done a good job. Ivy didn’t think coming in last was a good job.
Breathing heavily, Ivy plopped down on the lawn. She thought about how embarrassing it would be to finish last in front of the whole school. If only she could finish before just one person. But then she realized that even if she beat one person, someone else would feel as bad as she had. Maybe she needed a different goal. Ivy decided that what she really wanted was to run the whole race without stopping to walk. Even if she finished last, she wanted to finish the race running.
Each day at practice Ivy tried not to think about the kids ahead of her. She focused on finding a pace she could keep up for the whole race. It felt good to work toward a goal that wasn’t measured against anyone else. As the weeks passed, Ivy walked less and less until one day she didn’t walk at all. She ran across the finish line. She was last, but that didn’t matter.
“Good job, Ivy!” Mrs. Barrett said, like always. Then she added, “I saw that you ran the whole way today.”
Ivy grinned. “Yes! That was my goal!”
The day of the official race came. Running at her own pace, Ivy crossed the finish line in last place. Afterward, medals were given to the top finishers. Ivy cheered for her classmates, happy for them and satisfied with her own accomplishment.
Then Mrs. Barrett held up a trophy with a star on it. “I have watched Ivy for several weeks during training,” Mrs. Barrett said. “She is not a fast runner. But Ivy set a goal for herself and worked consistently to achieve it. I’ve appreciated her determination as she worked to win a race that was only with herself, and for that I would like to present to her this trophy—the Spirit Award.”
Mrs. Barrett handed Ivy the trophy. The audience cheered.
Ivy could hardly believe it. She had been so worried about finishing last in front of everyone, but now they were cheering for her! She realized that by setting a worthy goal and working to achieve it, she could finish last and still win.

Recognizing the consistent comfort and guidance of the Holy Ghost has always been one of the most tender evidences of God’s love for me. I’ve always felt profound gratitude for the personal guidance I receive from the Holy Ghost. Because of my illness, I had to relearn to do the most simple tasks, and going through that process meant learning to listen in new, important ways. The Holy Ghost helped me with everything from not eating too fast or taking too big a bite when I was relearning to eat to learning whether to push my limit or back off when relearning how to sit or stand up.
The Holy Ghost also taught me to focus on my caregivers rather than my own pain and discomfort. I was regularly prompted to say, “Tell me your story.” The Holy Ghost taught me of the heroism of these hardworking, overworked angels and instructed me to testify to them of God’s love for them and to acknowledge their nobility. Focusing on something besides my own miserable condition was important training to think of others before myself when my personal needs were so huge.
God’s love is evident in the lessons learned in each of our personalized curriculums and His unfailing companionship through them.
The most important lesson I learned was to praise Him: to acknowledge unceasingly that He is good; that He has all knowledge, love, light, and power; and that His perfect plan has power to save His children. I rejoice in being a part of it.
Praise is more than gratitude. It implies trust, a sense of God’s love for us personally, and an acknowledgement of His consistent comfort and guidance. Praise saved me from despair.
Elder Christofferson concludes his talk: “In the end, it is the blessing of a close and abiding relationship with the Father and the Son that we seek. It makes all the difference and is everlastingly worth the cost.”4
Francis Webster, a survivor of the Martin handcart company, expressed it perfectly: “The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay.”5 I am a witness: it is a privilege indeed.
The image of praise in the hymn “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling” expresses my joy that God is my Father, that Jesus Christ is my Savior and Redeemer, and that the Holy Ghost is my teacher and testator—that these three are indeed my truest, most unfailing and faithful Friends.
Finish then, thy new creation; true and spotless let us be.
Let us see thy great salvation perfectly restored in thee.
Changed from glory into glory, till in heav’n we take our place,
Till we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love and praise.”6
This beautiful hymn is referencing Revelation 4:10–11:
“The [faithful] fall down before him that sat on the throne, and worship him that liveth for ever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying,
“Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou has created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.”
We receive those crowns by virtue of the perfect obedience and generosity of Jesus Christ. He shared His earned inheritance with us, who could never earn it without Him. How fitting that we should cast those crowns at His feet, in eternal praise for His goodness and the goodness of our great Father, who would allow that perfect Son to suffer all our hard things with us so that He could share celestial glory with us.
I was spared to witness that I’ve learned these things by the power of the Holy Ghost. For this priceless knowledge, I praise the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
The author lives in Utah.

It had been five months, and I still couldn’t forgive myself. Ever since slipping up and doing something I was ashamed of, I felt like I was on a downward spiral. My shame kept building anytime I did something else I thought was wrong. I couldn’t feel at peace.
I had prayed for forgiveness and had even felt that God had forgiven me. But I just couldn’t forgive myself. How could I when I had sinned? I kept beating myself up over and over again, preventing myself from moving on.
While I was feeling this way, I went to a summer youth conference where we focused a lot of our studies on the Savior’s Atonement. One day I came across a passage in the Book of Enos that said: “Enos, thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.
“And I, Enos, knew that God could not lie; wherefore, my guilt was swept away” (Enos 1:5–6).
That was powerful for me. I realized that, like me, Enos had done something wrong and needed forgiveness. He even described his struggle to seek forgiveness as a wrestle before God (see Enos 1:2). But eventually, after praying through the day and night, Enos felt peace. And when he asked, “Lord, how is it done?” the Lord replied, “Because of thy faith in Christ” (Enos 1:7, 8).
That was it! Enos had faith in Jesus Christ. If Enos could let the Savior erase his guilt, why couldn’t I let Him bring that same peace into my life? From that point on, every time I felt that I couldn’t forgive myself, I thought of Jesus Christ’s love and forgiveness. I prayed for the ability to let go of my bad feelings and to stop feeling so ashamed. It took some time, but after many prayers, I stopped feeling so terrible all the time. I finally felt peace.
This experience taught me a lot about Christ’s grace. After I sinned, I felt godly sorrow, prayed, repented, and felt a confirmation that God had forgiven me. Yet I still kept punishing myself. I eventually realized that I didn’t need to keep making myself suffer for committing that sin, because Jesus Christ already paid for it through His Atonement. It must have been hard and painful for Him, but He was still willing to suffer so that I don’t have to.
I’ve since learned to rely on Jesus Christ and let His peace fill my life by strengthening my relationship with Him and my Heavenly Father. I try to pray and read the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, every day. I try to participate in uplifting activities and good media.
I still make mistakes, but I know if I repent and keep doing my best, Jesus Christ will bless me with His grace. When I rely on Him and on Heavenly Father, guilt and shame does end. I now know the peace that comes from having faith in Jesus Christ, and I am stronger because of it.

A few years ago Morgan High School played Millard High for the state football championship. From his wheelchair, to which Morgan coach Jan Smith was confined, he said to his team: “This is the most important game of your lives. You lose, and you will regret it forever. You win, and you will remember it forever. Make every play as though it were all-important.”
Behind the door, his wife, whom he tenderly referred to as his chief assistant, overheard her husband say, “I love you guys. I don’t care about the ball game. I love you and want the game victory for you.” Underdog Morgan High won the football game and the state championship.

When there are no exciting climbs planned, Bennett and Kevin often just take off on a hike. One day they decided it would be interesting to hike through the mountains to Strawberry Reservoir, a 30-mile jaunt as the hypothetical crow flies, but closer to 50 on foot over tall mountains and through deep valleys. A little more than 24 hours after setting out, they staggered up to the placid blue water of the reservoir. Why do they do things like that? They shrug their shoulders. “It’s a challenge, I guess.”

Whenever a prayer is offered on a date, whether kneeling in your home or in the mountains, the important thing is to have faith and be in tune so that after your prayer is offered you are prepared to listen for and expect an answer. This is beautifully illustrated by the testimony of a young girl who attended summer camp. During her camping experience it was suggested by one of the leaders that the girls might want to find a private spot in nature where they could be by themselves and talk with God. Some weeks later in a fast and testimony meeting, Becky stood up and told about how she had found a private spot, knelt down in a quiet, wooded area surrounded by tall pines and a few quaking aspens, and offered a simple prayer: “Father in heaven, do you know I’m here?” She went on to tell how she waited and waited, and as a breeze fluttered the leaves, she opened her eyes to see the rays of sun filter through the trees. She said a feeling came over her, and with deep emotion these were her words, “You may not think it was anything, but I knew He knew I was there.”

As you seek earnestly for direction you will want to remember the admonition given in the Doctrine and Covenants: “Be thou humble; and the Lord thy God shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers.” (D&C 112:10.) And finally, in paraphrasing the words of Becky’s testimony regarding prayer, “There may be some who will not think it is anything, but you will know that He knows that you are there.”

Sally had a problem. Her sister, Meg, a high school junior, recently placed second in the state gymnastic tournament. Meg looked like a butterfly as she flew through her routine. And fourth-grade, freckle-faced Timmy, Sally’s younger brother, could make a violin sing. His teacher said that Timmy had a great future.
Meg and Timmy had special talents, and Sally didn’t have any. That was her problem.
One day Sally overheard a new neighbor say, “I understand that you have two talented children—one a violinist, the other a gymnast. What does your other child do?”
“I couldn’t get along without Sally,” Mom replied. “She’s a great organizer and my responsible helper.”
Though no one saw her, Sally felt her face burn. So I’m only an organizer, she thought. That’s no special talent. Grandma would often say, “Sally will find herself one of these days. You’ll see.” But Sally didn’t want to wait to see.
However, now that Mom was working, Sally didn’t have much time to worry about being talented. Every day after school she did some of the housework and started dinner. Tim and Meg had either lessons or practice. Sometimes when Sally felt annoyed at them, Mom would say, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” and some of the hurt would go away. Anyway, Meg and Timmy did have to do the dinner dishes.
At first, Sally had problems with her cooking. Underdone, lumpy potatoes and burned carrots were only two of several disasters. But Mom helped her learn a little each time she cooked dinner.
Now when Dad came home, he said, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’,” and gave Sally a hug. Then she felt loved and happy.
One day toward the end of May, Meg called Sally and Timmy to her room and said, “Father’s Day is next week. Let’s have a party for him. What can we give for a present?”
Sally suggested that they each do something special … maybe have a program. Timmy looked at Sally and asked, “What would you do?”
Sally slumped down and fussed with her fingernails. Then she had an idea—but she wouldn’t tell. She’d surprise everybody. So she shrugged and said, “I’ll think of something.”
“I’ll bet,” Timmy teased.
“Timmy, that’s not nice,” Meg told him. “Just be sure that your violin’s in tune.”
To change the subject, Sally suggested that they invite Grandpa and Grandma.
The next afternoon Sally hurried home and told Mom her plan and asked for her help. Mom thought that Sally’s idea was terrific, and Sally suggested that they get Mrs. Jensen, their next-door neighbor, to help.
For several days Sally spent extra time after school at Mrs. Jensen’s, working on her project. Then, on Father’s Day, she hurried home from church to work on dinner. Meg and Timmy had assumed that the special dinner was Sally’s part of the program, and she just let them think so. It would be fun to surprise them too.
Mom came home from choir practice in time to help with the last-minute preparations. “Dad will be so pleased,” she said.
Dad was indeed pleased as well as surprised. Everything tasted delicious.
When fruit gelatin with whipped cream was served for dessert, Timmy asked, puzzled, “No cake for the party?”
Dad said, “This gelatin is my favorite.”
Grandpa said, “Young lady, I didn’t know that you’d learned how to cook like this.”
“We’ll have to invite you over more often,” Dad told him.
After dinner Meg and Timmy presented their program. Since they had no gymnastic bars, Meg did a floor exercise to music played on the tape recorder.
As soon as Timmy started to play the first of his two violin solos, Sally slipped out and hurried next door. Then Mrs. Jensen walked her home so that Sally wouldn’t stumble with her precious project. Sally re-entered the living room while the family were noisily applauding Timmy’s performance. Sally nodded to Mom, who announced, “Now we would like you to come back into the dining room for Sally’s special treat for Dad and Grandpa.”
“You mean there’s more?” everyone asked.
Indeed there was more! In the middle of the table sat a five-layer cake. Thick chocolate frosting dripped down the sides. Ruffled chocolate edging circled three yellow frosting roses with green leaves on the cream-colored top. Chocolate frosting spelled out, “Happy Father’s Day.”
The family oohed and ahhed as they examined the masterpiece. Then everyone talked at once. Mother stood with her arm around Sally, who grinned so hard that her face hurt.
Timmy asked suspiciously, “Where’d you get that?”
Before Sally could answer, Mom said, “She made it.”
“Mrs. Jensen is a cake decorator,” Sally explained, “and she taught me how.”
Meg said, “Oh, Sally, teach me. Would you, please?”
Grandma said, “If you’re giving classes, may I come too? Your cake is beautiful.”
“Do we get to eat it,” Grandpa asked, “or is it just to look at?”
“I hope not,” Timmy said. “It looks yummy to me!”
Dad looked at Timmy. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t want any. That would leave more pieces for me and Grandpa.”
Meg sighed. “Sally, that’s the most beautiful cake I’ve ever seen!”
Sally, so happy that she couldn’t speak, handed Dad the cake knife.
He laid it on the table, cupped his hands around his mouth and called in a loud voice, “Look out, chefs of the world! Someone is coming to give you a run for your money.”
Grandma smiled and winked at Sally while taking a piece of cake.

When Christian was 19, he decided to go to America, to Zion. He had saved enough money over the years working in the Hotvedtvien Cabinet Shop for the passage. In the spring of 1887, a tall, handsome Christian Mortson said goodbye to his foster parents, the two people who several years before had saved him from a lonely death.
“How can I thank you?” he said, standing on the Oslo dock, holding a large canvas bag full of sturdy new clothes and gifts they had given him for the journey.
“Love is its own reward, Christian,” Sister Hotvedtvien said. A tear fell and hung on her smile, then fell again. Christian turned to hide his own tears and walked up the ramp to the ship.
“Write to us,” he heard her shout. He turned, looked one more time, and saw her standing tall, strong, and noble next to her husband. He felt as if he were leaving an important part of himself standing there. He loved them as much as he loved his own parents, but he knew the step he was taking was right and he took it.

Several years ago one of my sons signed up for the most difficult and advanced BYU math class his prerequisites would allow.

I asked him, “Is that class required for your degree?”

“No.”

“Won’t taking it hurt your GPA?”

“Probably.”

“Well, then, why are you taking it?”

He replied, “Because it interests me and I will never have this opportunity again.”

When I saw his textbook, filled with the longest equations I had ever seen, I thought, “He’s doomed.” The class was graded on a straight curve, and, not unexpectedly, his grade was among those in the lower half of the class.

Months later, when I asked him about his experience, he said, “It was gnarly. But I’m glad I took that class because I understand things I never did before.”

Now I have to add in here that we recently talked to that son—he is a graduate student on the East Coast—and he mentioned that he had just set the curve on his graduate mathematics test. I couldn’t help but think back to his BYU experience. “Weren’t you wise to take that class that was beyond your capacity?” I asked.

This is a time when I received a prompting from the Spirit. Let’s return one last time to my Father’s story. One night, I was watching my Father working on the new edition of our family home. He was wearing his tool belt and he was working so hard. He was laying the tiles on the floor and trimming some of the tiles so they would fit just right. He loved to work. He was in his element and he was happy. Suddenly, a thought came to my mind. The thought was that my Father was leaving soon. I wondered to myself, perhaps he is going on a trip soon so I dismissed the thought. Two days later, my Father passed away. I was immediately taken back to that moment when I received the thought. It was an impression from the Spirit. I received a personal revelation that my Father was leaving, little did I know, that he would be departing this earth life.

I hope you will learn to recognize the Holy Spirit. By living the gospel and keeping the commandments the Spirit will always be with you. This will cultivate a spirit of happiness in your life.

I was a single parent. I barely had enough money to buy food and pay my bills. Often it was a matter of paying tithing or buying food, paying my utility bills, or making a car payment.
For years, I went through stages of trying to pay tithing. Finally, I said, “If you believe the gospel is true, then you need to step out there. Once you step out there, God can bless you.”
I owed $500 in tithing, but I also needed $503 to pay some bills. I didn’t see how it would work, but I said, “I’m just going to try.” I paid my tithing. Nobody knew I was $503 short, but somebody anonymously sent me five $100 bills in the mail.
That was a turning point for me. It changed me spiritually. I realized that God loves me, that He cares for me, and that He wants me to succeed. From that point forward, I have paid my tithing. But it hasn’t always been easy.

Let me conclude with this. About a year ago my mother went to the hospital. When I was thirteen my mother and father were divorced, and it was a rough life. I saw her put on heavy men’s work boots and go to Garfield’s Smelter at eleven o’clock at night and work until seven in the morning so she could be there when the seven children were home. When she came home, she would get us up and send us off to school. When we came home for lunch, she would be up washing, baking bread, or something. When we came home after school, she would be up. I don’t know when the poor woman slept.

One time at school the teacher pulled us into a room, and the nurse was there. The nurse methodically went through each person’s hair in the family. We were naive and didn’t know what she was doing and went home and told mother about it. She knew. She put on I think the only dress she had in this world and marched down to Hawthorne School. She went into the principal’s office and said, “We may be poor, but we’re not dirty, and don’t you ever search my children for lice again.”

I can’t tell you how embarrassed I was when I learned that was what the nurse was doing. Over the years I have watched this great mom work those kinds of hours. She had a heart condition, and we thought she ought to go and have an examination to see if open-heart surgery ought to take place. They were just wheeling her out of the room when as calm and peacefully as she ought to go, she passed away just that quick. The doctor said it was one in ten thousand times that something like that would happen.

Well, that was on Thursday night. On Friday I was supposed to go to Lakeland, Florida. I didn’t tell the Brethren about my mother’s passing. I’m sure they would have excused me from the assignment, but I felt I had better go. We were planning the funeral service, and as I got ready to leave, I was hoping the family would invite me to speak. I didn’t dare volunteer, but I wanted to say some things about my mom. Just before I left my older brother asked if I would feel all right about being the final speaker at the funeral. I said that I would love to.

Then I got on the plane and flew to Lakeland. I didn’t tell anyone at the conference that my mother had passed away. I was a little tender anyway, and I didn’t want them to know. I made it through the first day, and that night after the meetings the mission president came to me and said, “We’ve got a real problem. We have a missionary that you have to decide whether he stays in the mission field or goes home.”

I interviewed him very thoroughly. He had been involved in some really serious problems, almost breaking up a marriage. He had not committed fornication, but he was far more seriously involved than any missionary ought to be. But he didn’t have a repentant attitude. I wanted him to stay in the mission field so badly I couldn’t stand it. But I thought he had to have at least a little spirit of repentance. I pled inwardly that he would show me that he wanted to stay. He did want to stay and he would say he wouldn’t do it anymore, but he never once said he was sorry.

Well, I felt really bad about it, and finally, at the end of the interview, I thought I had better send him home. Then I was impressed and said, “Tell me about your dad.”

He said, “Oh, my dad is inactive in the Church. My dad couldn’t care less if I’m out in the mission field. In fact, he would like me to come home and would be grateful if I would come home.”

I said, “Tell me about your mom.”

Then he got a little tender and said, “She is the president of the stake Young Women.”

I said to him, “I’m going to let you stay. You don’t really deserve to stay, but I couldn’t do that to your mother. I couldn’t have that happen to this woman who takes your letters around and reads them to the young women in the stake. Maybe you’re the only great thing in her life. She probably shares your letters from one ward to the next and is so proud of you. I couldn’t have her stand at the bottom of the stairs of the plane and watch you walk off dishonorably discharged from your mission. I’m going to let you stay.”

He said, “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then he walked out.

The next day, during the last ten minutes of conference, I said, “I apologize if I have been just a little bit tender this morning, last night, and yesterday. My mother passed away and the funeral is tomorrow. She raised seven boys and girls alone without any alimony or child support.” I explained a little bit about her life and bore my testimony.

After the meeting was over this young man came up to the stand. Tears were running down his cheeks, and he ran up to me, put his arms around me, and said, “President Featherstone, now I know why you are letting me stay. It isn’t only because of my mom. It is because of your mom.” I answered that I guessed it was.

I am a product of ministering from almost forty years ago. I had been baptized when I was nine years old, but my family had become less active during my twelfth year and so I drifted away. I started going to a different local church with my friend, who was my next-door neighbor. Over the next few years, life went on and after I married, I was contacted by my assigned Visiting Teachers. They called faithfully each month and over time set the foundation for Home Teachers to be assigned to our family. During those visits we never discussed the fact that I was not attending church; and my husband who knew very little about the Church and was not really interested in religion, didn’t feel pressured or uncomfortable accepting them into our home. We felt only genuine concern and friendship coming from them during their visits.
What struck us most was the kindness and joyful spirit that our Home and Visiting Teachers brought into our home. We developed a close relationship with one of our Home Teachers, who never ceased to offer his assistance when needed—inviting us into his home and in time, inviting me to a conference where Elder Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018), then of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, spoke.
During that conference it was as if Elder Monson knew what was in my heart and that he was speaking directly to me that day. I left with a strong desire to return to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and to become once again a part of His fold. A few months later, after the missionary discussions, my son was baptized, and we started to attend Church.

He worked as a driver for a local cacao company in his hometown until civil war and unrest led him to move to Abidjan in 2004. There he encountered Latter-day Saint missionaries and learned about the restored gospel.
He was baptized on March 25, 2005, and his testimony has only continued to grow from there.
“Six months after my baptism, President [Gordon B.] Hinckley invited all the members around the world to read the Book of Mormon. Following President Hinckley’s invitation, my mind began to open, and the message of the Restoration became clearer for me to understand,” Bishop says.
But it was those missionaries’ initial love and interest in him as a person that first piqued his interest.
“My conversion did not begin with the [gospel] teachings. . . . I was only impressed by the missionaries; I loved their mark of attention towards me.”
And those missionaries probably had no idea how much that “mark of attention” would mean to Bishop. It became a huge focal point in his life and how he now shares the gospel with others.