Gospel Story Finder

There is a special bond between Mary Carmen and three others in the group because she helped to bring them into the Church. She had begun by talking about the Church to her friend María del Pilar and María’s sisters Isabel and Loly. Unbeknown to her, her mother ran into María’s mother in the doctor’s office, and although they were complete strangers, began telling her about the Church. The two conversion factors merged; the family accepted the missionaries into their home and were baptized within 13 days of beginning the discussions.
“I shared the gospel with Pili (María del Pilar) and Isabel and Loly because they are my friends and I love them,” Mary Carmen said. “I wanted them to be able to feel the presence of the Spirit and enjoy the rich blessings from the Lord that I do. When they were baptized, I was so happy that no one could stand me at school for a few days. It made me remember the day of my own baptism.”

When mother announced you were coming, I knew she was crazy-bonkers-looney. Look at it from my perspective. What in the world did I need with another brother? I already had four dribbling siblings to put up with.
Another brother?
Crazy!
Bonkers!
Looney!
Now, I’d never get that
Pendleton shirt I wanted or a
fiberglass-and-resin-coated
balsa monolith.
No surfing board for me.
Another brother.
Insane!
Why Tracy, the youngest of the Jones boys, was
already in kindergarten.
Mother was infant-free at last.
Why start all over again with babies?
You came anyway,
despite my cogent, lucid, and
insightful protests.
Rationality did not prevail.
The biology was already in motion.
I was 12 at the time.
A deacon.
And before long I was ordained
your babysitter,
while mother went to Dales Market
or Giacapuzzi Dairy
or Reseda II Ward Primary.
And that was way before Pampers and
Luvs.
I hated it—tending
toddler you.
Another brother.
What had I done to deserve such a harsh
judgment?
Somehow I managed to tolerate year one of your
existence.
But year two,
that’s when I came to understand the
devastation of
atomic warfare.
Every day I’d come home from high school
to find my room
nuked.
A tornado was a birthday party
compared to what you did to my very personal and
very teenage-important things.
I’m talking about you,
Intradomicile Ballistic Missile expert,
Guy Alexander Jones.
Soon life became complicated
for me
entangled with permanent relationships and
Shock—children of my own.
You were still my brother
in a statistical sense of the word.
Of course, you were at all the Jones family
functions and get-togethers.
Even went to Niagara Falls with us one year.
But you were
just another brother.
Until last winter
when you came to live with us
up in Provo town.
I remember the first day
when you, GuyBeau, came to stay.
We trekked on down to D.I. just above Provo River
and rummaged through the salvaged bedding.
The boxspring was a steal at 8 dollars
and the mattress a real D.I. bargain at 55,
But at least you had a bed of your own.
For four months you became
part of the Utah Joneses,
part of us,
living under the same asphalt shingles
sharing the same forced-air heating
watching the same fuzzy TV.
Sometimes we’d talk late into the night
about the categorical differences between
Mod and New Wave and Prep.
(You, of course, always wore topsiders with no socks.)
And sometimes we discussed
what a tremendous spiritual experience it was
taking an exam in the
Harold B. Lee Testing Center.
When you weren’t talking with us
or sleeping
or protecting Cosmo, our cat, from the kids,
you ate
a wholesome and nutritious diet of
pork’n beans and chocolate chip cookies for
dinner
and blended eggs (not fork-whipped mind you) but
blended eggs for breakfast and …
MALTS.
Malts for lunch and
malts for any time in between and
malts for when Connie’s letters didn’t come and
malts for those times the Harold B. Lee Testing
Center wasn’t a spiritual experience.
Justin and Nathan and Kristen loved having you
around.
You were the greatest Big Kid ever
to come play at our house.
You did legos and tinkertoys,
colored Easter eggs and showed the boys
how to play soccer.
You subbed for me when I was tied up
making ends meet and
meeting the ends of professorial demands.
And every Monday you took more than your
part in our FHEs.
April 23 Winter Semester ended.
You had to go home to make money for a mission.
We watched from the big glass window
in the converted garage as you pulled away to go
back to California.
By April 24th I knew something was wrong.
Luella noticed it too.
Our family was somehow smaller
less whole
in your absence.
That’s when I knew you would no longer be
just another brother.

Carlitos wiped the tears from his eyes. His mamá had been sick for many months. At last Papá had convinced her to go to the city, many kilometers from their small village in Chile, and see a doctor. After many tests, the doctor said that Carlitos’s mamá had cancer.
Mamá refused to feel sorry for herself. “I still have much to do,” she said.
One day, two young norteamericanos (North Americans) appeared at the door of their small home. “We are from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” one said in halting Spanish.
Mamá listened intently and occasionally asked questions. She accepted the young men’s message immediately. “It is the truth,” she said.
Despite the disease that caused her much pain, Mamá was determined to be baptized and confirmed.
On Saturday morning the family traveled to the small meetinghouse where Elder Metzer baptized her. She shivered as she stepped from the baptismal font.
“Mamá, you are cold,” Carlitos said and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You must go home and get warm.”
Mamá shook her head. “It is not enough. I will stay until I am confirmed. How can I be cold when the gospel warms me?” She was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Mamá was not content with just that. She was determined that Papá and Carlitos learn of the restored gospel as she had. “If you will pray, you will know the truth of which the missionaries speak,” she told them.
The elders taught them the gospel of Jesus Christ. Papá would have to give up his cigarettes. Carlitos listened to the elders’ teachings and felt peace wrap around his heart. He began to understand the warmth that Mamá had described.
Within a month Papá had stopped smoking. Shortly afterward both Papá and Carlitos were baptized and confirmed. A few weeks later Papá received the Aaronic Priesthood. Carlitos would have to wait three more years before he could receive the priesthood.
Mamá was very weak, but she always managed to go to church and visit those in the village who were sick.
“We are members of God’s Church, but it is not enough,” Mamá told Papá and Carlitos one night.
“What must we do now?” Carlitos asked. He loved learning about the gospel and wanted to live it in every way.
“We must be sealed in the temple,” Mamá said.
The temple in Santiago was the closest one to their home. But they did not have enough money to travel there. Any extra money Papá earned went to buy medicine for Mamá.
So Mamá started a temple jar. She placed it by the door. The coins she collected grew until the family had enough money to make the trip. In the temple their family was sealed for time and all eternity.
Mamá glowed with happiness. “It is enough,” she said.

Whether we are teaching in the home or in the Church, we must keep a clear vision of the gospel’s eternal purpose. Not long ago I experienced the kind of faith and spiritual strength the gospel provides when an 18-year-old sister, who was fighting for her life in a battle with cancer, asked me for a blessing. She said: “Brother Ballard, I am not afraid to die. I would like to live. There are things I would still like to accomplish in this life, but I know that Jesus is my Savior and my Redeemer. During these past few years He has become my best friend. I trust Him, and I trust you as His representative. Whatever He wants for me, I am prepared.”
We pled for a miracle but at her request left the matter with Heavenly Father. She died shortly thereafter with the peace of the Lord attending her and her faithful family.

Thank you for the article “Praying Our Way to Church” (June 2010). When we are out of town on vacation my family rarely attends church. Recently I spent two weeks at a summer writing program and didn’t plan on attending church while I was away. During the plane ride I came across the article and read it with great interest. I prayed to find a way to go to church that next Sunday. I found out that I had to have a permission slip to be released from the campus, but after a little persistence I was able to attend Sunday meetings.
Samantha F.

Recently I turned 16 and was ordained a priest by my grandpa. A few days later, I went to the temple with my brother and the other youth in our ward to help officiate in baptisms for the dead.
Every experience that I have had at the temple has been spiritual, but I felt like this time was different. As soon as I walked onto the temple grounds, I could feel my heart beat a little faster in anticipation of this new experience of being able to perform baptisms.
I felt like any worries that I had were left outside the temple doors. I really felt peace inside the temple. I felt clean and pure. The Spirit was incredibly strong the entire time. I knew my testimony was growing and I was coming closer to Jesus Christ. When I baptized my brother, I knew that both of our testimonies were being strengthened.
It makes me happy to know that the Lord has trusted us as youth to assist those who have passed on in preparing to enter the kingdom of God.
Kiefer C., Utah, USA

1 “Stop it!”
“Stop it!”
Andrew stomped his foot and stuck his tongue out at his little sister. She did the same to him.
2 “Mom, I can’t take it anymore. Please make Sarah stop copying me.”
3 “I don’t know if we can stop Sarah from doing everything you do. Right now she is learning from your example and doing the things you teach her to do.”
“I didn’t teach her that.”
“Yes, you did. Sarah loves you and thinks you are a great big brother. She watches what you do and tries to do the same.”
4 “I still don’t like it when she copies what I do. It gives me a headache.”
5 “Remember, Jesus set a good example for us by showing love and being kind to others. You can show Sarah a good example by doing what Jesus did.”
6 Andrew thought about what Mom said. He decided he would try to be a good example. Andrew looked at Sarah and smiled.
“I love you.”
Sarah smiled back at him.
“I love you too.”

There were times when I thought Caleb would live a long time. He had so often successfully battled sicknesses and surgeries with resilience. He went to the hospital many times but always came back to us. We loved having him in our home. Being in his presence was healing and heavenly.
At age seven, Caleb slipped peacefully away in April’s arms, surrounded by his family. He had spent a courageous day fighting a vicious infection brought on by pneumonia. His body was simply worn out.
My wife whispered in his ear, “I love you, Caleb. I am so proud of you. If your body is too tired, it’s OK. You can go back. You can return to Heavenly Father.”
In the very moment when it was needed, April’s heart changed so she could let him go. April trusted Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ because she knew They personally understood her suffering and would provide comfort and strength (see Alma 7:11–12). And through the Atonement of His Son, God can do miracles. He saves souls. He heals heartache. He inspires hope.

Juanita was sick, so Sarah walked home from school by herself. She missed her friend because they always had so much to talk about. Still, Sarah enjoyed figuring out where she was by the sounds around her. She could hear dogs barking and children playing in their front yards when she stopped to visit her neighbor Mrs. Bartelli and play with Baby Andrew.
“Hello, Sarah.” Mrs. Bartelli sounded tired and tense when she opened the door. “I hope that Andy will be good for you. He’s been fussy all afternoon.”
Sarah wondered what was wrong. She could tell by Andrew’s delighted giggles, though, that he was happy to see her. She lifted him out of his crib and sniffed. “Should I change him, Mrs. Bartelli?”
“Yes, if you would, please.”
Sarah felt around for a diaper and washcloth, then laid Andrew down. He giggled and squirmed. “I’m glad that these are disposable diapers,” she told him. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally stick a pin into such a wiggly boy!”
As Sarah finished changing Andrew, she heard Mrs. Bartelli talking on the telephone.
“Yes, I understand.” Mrs. Bartelli sighed. “Well, I’ll call you again. Good-bye.”
“What’s wrong, Mrs. Bartelli?” Sarah asked.
“Tonight is our fifth wedding anniversary. Juanita was going to tend Andy for us, but she has measles. And no one else is available on such short notice.”
Sarah had seldom heard a grown-up so close to tears. “Mrs. Bartelli, let me tend Andrew,” she suggested. “He knows me, and I can do a good job.”
After a long silence Mrs. Bartelli replied, “I don’t know, Sarah. Being totally responsible for Andy at night is not like playing with him while I’m here.”
“I know I can do it,” Sarah assured her. “I can change his clothes and diaper and make his bottle. I have all the emergency numbers memorized. I’m very careful. It shouldn’t matter that I’m blind. If I have any trouble, I can call Mom. She’s just two doors away.”
Mrs. Bartelli thought for a moment, then agreed.
“Thank you!” Sarah excitedly hugged the baby.
That night Sarah settled down on the sofa to listen to a tape of her homework. Andrew had taken his bottle and had gone to sleep quickly while she rocked him, and now she needed only to check him occasionally. Mrs. Bartelli had said that she and her husband would be home late—dinner, a play, and ice cream afterward would keep them out until at least midnight.
As Sarah listened to her history lesson, something kept bothering her. Finally she stopped the tape and concentrated. No, Andrew isn’t crying. It’s a smell, like something burning. She stood up and sniffed, turning her head to discover where the smell came from. Guiding herself down the hall by brushing her hand along the wall, she went through the kitchen to the door of the utility room, where the washer and dryer were. The smell of smoke was strong here, and it made her cough. She felt the closed door with her hand. It was hot!
Her heart pounding, Sarah prayed, “Please, Heavenly Father, help me get Andrew out all right.” With trembling fingers she felt her way back through the house to the baby’s room. She quickly wrapped him in a blanket and left the house. Walking carefully, feeling for toys on the sidewalk, she was soon home.
Sarah unlocked the door and called for her mother. There was no answer. She almost panicked before remembering that her mother had talked about going shopping. Sarah wasted no more time. Shifting a waking Andrew onto one hip, she quickly punched 9-1-1 on the telephone. She explained the situation and gave the dispatcher the Bartelli’s address.
After hanging up, Sarah hurried back outside. Andrew made small, inquiring baby noises as she felt her way along the sidewalk. The sound of a siren startled him, but she quickly hushed his crying.
When she could hear the fire truck pull up, she called out, “The fire is in the utility room. Go in the front door and through the living room. It’s to the left of the kitchen.”
For the next few minutes the sounds of booted feet and men calling to one another were all that she could hear, and she wondered what was happening. Then one of the men approached her. “Are you the one who reported the fire?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m the baby-sitter. I smelled smoke, and the door felt hot, so I left the house and called from my home. It’s just down there.” She pointed.
“Good work! The iron was left on, and it started a fire. The utility room was damaged, but because you discovered the fire so early, the rest of the house wasn’t harmed at all.”
People from the neighborhood were beginning to crowd around to see why the fire truck was there. Sarah heard familiar footsteps, and her mother hurried up. “What’s going on, honey?”
The fireman explained about the fire once more, and Sarah’s mother gathered her up in a big hug, baby and all. “You did well, sweetheart. Pretty exciting for a first baby-sitting job, wasn’t it?”
Sarah smiled. She had done a good job of baby-sitting all by herself—without her mom, or Juanita, or anybody else helping her! But there was one more thing that she needed to do. “We should call the Bartellis, Mom. I memorized the phone numbers of the places where they’ll be tonight.”
“Good thought,” Sarah’s mother said.
Sarah smiled up at her mother. “Mom, do you think that Mrs. Bartelli will let me baby-sit again?”
“She’ll be missing out if she doesn’t rehire the best baby-sitter that she’s likely to ever have!”

A few months later, Alasdair went to the theater again with his family. His mother smiled as they looked through the program together. “A lot of people have liked this play,” she said. “It should be good!”
After the show started, Alasdair started to get a bad feeling. The characters in the play weren’t very nice to each other, and some of them used language he knew wasn’t good. At intermission, he leaned over to talk to Mom and Dad. “I don’t like this play,” he said. “It isn’t making me feel good.”
Intermission—a short break in the middle of a play
“Me neither,” Sutton said. “Maybe we should leave.”
“That’s what Mom and I were thinking,” Dad said. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t get it,” Alasdair said as they left the theater. “Why did I feel bad during the play? The last time we were at the theater, I felt so good!”
“Maybe it’s because the Holy Ghost wasn’t there,” Sutton said.
“It didn’t feel very good,” Alasdair said glumly.
“It’s important to pay attention to how we feel when we watch things,” Sutton replied. “That’s how the Holy Ghost tells us what’s good and what’s not. He can help us know when we’re somewhere we shouldn’t be.”
As Alasdair walked with his family down to the subway station, he noticed that the bad feeling was starting to go away. Instead he was feeling happy that he had made the right decision.
Alasdair ran to catch up with Sutton. “I hope we go back to the theater soon,” he said to her. “But I’m only going to see plays the Holy Ghost can see too!”

I went off to school that fall. I was on the track team, and though I was not a star that year, I ran straight and hard. When I came home that summer, I had an interview with my bishop to begin the work of serving a mission. It didn’t take place in a bishop’s office, but in a blue, two-story home in south San Francisco. I sat on the edge of a bed, and the bishop pulled close his favorite old chair. He seemed a little hesitant. His eyes were wet.
“Tom, you are a Rosa,” he began. “And you are a Latter-day Saint.”
“Yes.”
“If you honor your family, you will honor your church. If you honor your church, you will honor your family.”
“I understand that.”
After asking me the normal missionary interview questions, he concluded, “You will do good. You will be a fine missionary.”
Then he told me to go help Mom in the kitchen. I looked back at him as I left. His hair was mostly gray now, and his arms were not as thickly muscled as before. He sat in his chair and stared out the window at ten thousand sparkling lights on the hillside across the bay from our home. I wondered if he knew how proud I was to be his son and how much it meant to me to share his good name. I walked downstairs realizing that all those years I had been running, my father had been growing, and I would never lack for someone to look up to.

A tiny sunbeam shining bravely through a crack between the logs in her bedroom played across Louisa’s face. She stretched lazily and listened to the shrieking of the sea gulls outside her small window. They seemed to be calling to her to come and play. Louisa knew they had come for their usual breakfast of worms and insects and perhaps an occasional mouse from the fields surrounding the growing settlement. She had come to think of the gulls as her own, because each morning as the sun rose over the mountains they settled first in the field next to her window and then moved to other fields.
Quietly she slipped from her bed onto the rough floor and down the stairs to the door of the cabin. She smiled as she slipped outside. Father had built one of the few two-story log houses. He planned to cover it with stucco later when he wasn’t so busy.
Louisa chose her favorite spot on the porch by the corner post to sit quietly without moving to watch the sea gulls. She arranged her flannel nightgown around her bare toes to keep out the morning chill. Her soft, brown hair fell gently over her shoulders and her clear, blue eyes seemed to shine as brightly as the sunbeams.
With a soft sound the door opened again and her little brother Thomas crept quietly to her side. The sharp sound of her father’s ax in the woods across the field and her mother’s gentle singing in the garden broke the stillness of the beautiful morning. Thomas yawned sleepily and gazed at the birds in the field.
“Father’s chopping wood for winter and Mother’s weeding the garden so the vegetables will grow,” Louisa almost whispered so she wouldn’t frighten the sea gulls. The birds continued to eat as though Louisa and Thomas were not even there.
“Tell me again about the sea gulls, Louisa,” Thomas said sleepily. “Please.”
He was too young to remember when they had crossed the plains in the covered wagon to Utah. Louisa remembered, though.
“Mother and Father packed our clothes, quilts, pots and pans, dishes, food, and everything else they could into the wagon. I put in my doll and helped with some of the smaller things. Father hitched the oxen to the wagon and we started on our long journey. I’d never seen oxen before. They looked like big brown cows to me.”
“What about the sea gulls, Louisa?” Thomas didn’t like to hear about the times they had traveling to their new home in the mountains.
“When we first came to Utah, I helped Father and Mother plant the seeds in the ground. It took Father two days to break the hard ground before we could plant the seeds. All day we worked and dropped a seed at a time on the ground.”
“Where was I?” asked Thomas.
“You wouldn’t remember because you were only a baby then and had just learned to walk,” Louisa answered quietly. “Anyway, when the new plants were just coming up, about this high,” Louisa measured with her fingers, “some crickets came and began eating them. More and more crickets came.”
“What are crickets?”
“Thomas, you know what crickets are. They are those shiny black bugs. They scrape their wings together to make a squeaky sound at night,” Louisa answered.
“Oh. Tell me about the sea gulls.”
Louisa continued her story. “Everyone got sticks and shovels and whatever they could find and began beating the crickets. But more crickets came. Finally, the people gave up. They couldn’t kill all the crickets. They were going to eat up all the food we planted.”
Tears came to Louisa’s eyes remembering how hard she had cried. She had only been four. Now Louisa was eight and too big to cry. But sometimes she did when she was hurt or afraid.
“When did the sea gulls come?” Thomas asked.
“Father and Mother and the rest of the people prayed to our Heavenly Father that the crops would be saved from the hungry crickets. And it wasn’t long until we were surprised to hear a noise in the sky. I looked up and saw sea gulls. At first they looked like more crickets. I hadn’t seen any sea gulls here before, although I used to watch them on the ocean before we came west in the wagon.”
Louisa waited for Thomas to encourage her to go on with the story. But he just lay quietly beside her. The sky was dark blue with streaks of white clouds high in the sky. Most of the sea gulls were quiet, but once in a while one would call.
“The sea gulls came to the ground and ate up the crickets,” Louisa continued. “No one had really noticed them in the valley before. Some people say they were here all the time. But I think Heavenly Father sent them to us when the people prayed. What do you think, Thomas?”
But Thomas didn’t answer. He had fallen asleep in the warm sunshine.

“I ran a 5K last Saturday with some of the most wonderful women and men at the Utah YSA conference ‘Together in Christ.’ I was touched by the Spirit of that evening. We had so much fun and felt energized as we gathered together and talked of Christ and ran near His holy house. Several analogies stood out to me that I wanted to share with you.
“First, we were meant to run at our own pace.
“My goal for this 5K was to keep running, don’t stop, and finish (keeping the pressure low!). As I prepared, I realized I could go much farther if I ran at my pace and was consistent. In this beautiful run, some people ran fast, some ran slow, some walked, and some pushed friends or family in wheelchairs. It was not about who came in first or last, but it was about encouraging each other to keep going, doing it together, and finishing.
“Your pace and progress is between you and the Lord. And I think He’s not so much concerned about your placement in comparison to the person ahead of you or behind you. Rather, I think He’s focused on helping you to keep going wherever you are in your personal journey back home to Him. So find and enjoy the pace that works for you, and let Heavenly Father and the Savior strengthen and enlighten your steps!
“Second, we run better together!
“I loved meeting and running with so many incredible disciples of the Savior! With others beside me, I felt motivated to keep going, and the distance didn’t feel as long. One sister said to me, ‘I can run so much better with you!’ I loved that we cheered each other on. Helping others along the way actually gave us the motivation to keep going. I somehow had the breath to visit while running and felt as though I could’ve kept on going. I think that was because of who I was running with and Who we were really running for. We were gathering together in Christ.
“And just as we lifted and encouraged each other in this 5K run, the Savior often works through others in this mortal run to lift our burdens and give us strength, encouragement, safety, comfort, and increased joy. He gives us relief through those that run beside us.
“The last leg was long and uphill and directly toward the Saratoga Springs Utah Temple, which was glowing in the night. I won’t soon forget the comradery and love offered and received as we pressed our way to the finish. May we strengthen each other and feel increased joy as we run this journey together in Christ.”
Sister Kristin M. Yee, Facebook, Aug. 18, 2023, facebook.com/RS2ndCounselor.

During that week the missionaries’ preaching brought success. On Wednesday they interviewed a Mr. Wilkeson, who was a leader in the Mount Pleasant Methodist group. “He could not stand our words,” the diary reads. “Whether he will receive the truth the Lord only knows. He seemed honest.” Thursday, a wet day, their preaching at Weathersford drew only a small congregation. But at Mount Pleasant that evening a fine meeting developed: “One man, [Eleazer] Nickerson declared his full belief in the truth of the work. Is with his wife who is also convinced to be baptized on Sunday. Great excitement prevails in every place where we have been. The result we leave in the hand of God.”

Like the Malmroses, other couples find that when they trust the Lord, He prepares the way. That’s what happened for Alvin and Corazon Rieta of Kawit, Cavite, in the Philippines.
“Two years prior to our decision to serve, we began putting into place firm plans for our family business,” Elder Rieta explains. “Our son and daughter had graduated from college and could take over for us, but we wondered who would solve business problems and how our clients would react to our plans.”
Sister Rieta was also concerned about leaving her aging mother. “I was afraid we might lose her while we were away,” she says. “I also felt unequal to the challenge of teaching the gospel.”
They counseled with their bishop and with a couple who had recently served in Davao. “All of them bore strong testimonies that the Lord would guide each couple to know how to deal with their affairs at home, their family, and the funds for their mission,” Sister Rieta says.
“As we sought guidance,” Elder Rieta says, “our fears were addressed—our business went well in spite of challenges, our clients expressed joy and support, and our family drew closer together in taking care of our sick mother. We began to understand that the Lord truly would help us.”
The Rietas now serve in member and leadership support in the Philippines Cagayan de Oro Mission.

“You wouldn’t think it was funny if you had to dance with him,” said Lisa in a cross voice.
“I’m sorry, Lisa,” said Stephanie, smothering one last chuckle, “but I couldn’t help laughing because there was a time when I thought you had two left feet. Remember when we were learning to clog after third grade a couple of years ago?”
“Oh, yes,” said Lisa, thinking back. “Was I really that bad?” She thought some more, then admitted, “I guess I was before Tammy took over. She walked me through every step of that dance until I had it just right.”
“And now old Two-Left-Feet Lisa can dance,” said Stephanie with a friendly grin.

I was baptized in February 1991, and soon after I received the January 1991 issue of Der Stern (German), in which I read an article concerning baptism for the dead. I decided that I would have my mother baptized as soon as I could go to the temple. After that, my mother appeared to me by my bed and told me that she would accept her baptism.
I am eternally grateful to my Heavenly Father because I owe this wonderful experience to him and to Der Stern, which brought this message to me.
Erika GiesenGluckstadt Ward, Neumunster Germany Stake

As a matter of fact, attempts to keep illness or other problems secret can sometimes backfire. One elder heard by accident that his mother had undergone heart surgery. A frantic, long-distance phone call from England partially reassured him that she was progressing satisfactorily. But the remaining year of his mission was edged with anxiety. As he put it, “If they had leveled with me, I could have relaxed when the crisis was past, but this way, I was never sure how things really were at home.”

When I was called to be bishop of our ward, our young four-year-old son inquired of me, “Are you the guy they give those envelopes of money to?” I answered, “Yes, I am the one,” realizing that we needed a little lesson on tithing. Brandon clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Oh goody, we’re going to be rich!” We later learned he was thinking that Dad no longer would have to work and would therefore have lots more time for him!

I grew up in a home where my father was not a member of the Church and my mother was less active. That all changed later, and they spent much of their life as temple workers. With that background I didn’t know much about the Church, even though I thought I did. When I was about to graduate from the university, the Lord brought an angel into my life. Her name was Jeanene Watkins. She was a beautiful girl. It took me a long time to date her because so many others recognized her wonderful qualities. As we began to date, I discovered that she was all I had ever dreamed of finding. I fell completely in love with her. I could tell she had deep feelings for me also. One night when we were talking about the future, she carefully wove into the conversation an important comment. She said, “When I marry, it will be to a returned missionary in the temple.” I don’t remember anything else she said. I hadn’t thought much about a mission and didn’t understand much about temple marriage. I went home and couldn’t think of anything else. I was awake all night. I couldn’t do anything at the university the next day. Soon I was at the bishop’s office, having prayed about the importance of a mission. Jeanene and I both went on missions and when we returned were sealed in the temple. Much later I came to realize that she would have left me had I not made the right choices. Jeanene’s courage in standing up for her dream of a temple marriage to a returned missionary, regardless of her love for me, has made all of the difference in our lives together. I will never be able to thank her adequately for not compromising her righteous dreams.