Gospel Story Finder

Celebrating Christ’s life during the Christmas season brings both families and friends closer together. Jennifer Adams, of Pleasanton, California, discovered this when she went away to school.
She and her roommates knew they would spend most of the time leading up to Christmas away from their families. But they didn’t want to miss out on the traditions and special experiences of home, so they started some of their own.
They took a long candle, decorated it with numbers from 1 to 25, and placed it in the center of the living room. Every night they lit the candle and let it burn down one number.
While the candle burned, they sang traditional Christmas hymns and shared stories of service and giving. Some nights, they bore testimony of the Savior and talked about what Christmas meant to them.
It only took 15 minutes a night and made for a meaningful holiday season. It became a tradition Jennifer will one day incorporate in her own home. It also brought the roommates closer together and created a feeling of having a family even while they were away at college.

The young women in the Paradise Ward, Adelaide Australia Modbury Stake, found a great way to combine service and fun when they organized a Wake-a-thon.
The girls wanted to earn money for John Stevens, a member of their ward who had recently become a paraplegic, and his wife and children. Sixteen girls and six leaders committed friends, relatives, and neighbors to pledging money for every hour they stayed awake during a "sleep-over."
Then they designed activities through the night to focus on the seven different Young Women values. These activities included ironing clothes for busy mothers, writing to missionaries serving from their ward, preparing a Young Women sacrament program, and making toys for patients at a local children’s hospital. They also watched a movie about the true story of a paraplegic woman.
When the sun came up, the girls discovered they had stayed awake long enough to earn over $550, which was almost half the cost of a wheelchair. And they discovered that it is possible to serve and have fun at the same time.

John Harding lives in the old gray house at the end of my street. My mother says that his yard is full of junk, but I don’t think so. One time he gave me a hubcap from an old car behind his house. I used it for a hood ornament on my go-cart.
At school, John Harding sits by himself at the back of the room. I wanted to sit by him, but my friend Max told me not to. I wanted the teacher to assign some of us seats by John Harding so that he wouldn’t have to be alone, but she didn’t.
The girls in the class think that John Harding is rude. He really isn’t; he just isn’t comfortable around girls. Besides, I think John Harding is tough!
My teacher treats John Harding as though he’s dumb, and she often tells him to sit down and to be quiet. But next to my dad, John Harding is about the smartest person I know. In his backyard he built a tree house all by himself. It even has a manual elevator. I wish I could play in his tree house.
Sometimes my friend Max and I follow him. We stay far behind so that he won’t see us. Max says that John Harding would punch us out if he caught us spying on him. John Harding is the only kid I know who can swing on a rope all the way across Holmgren’s Pond. I dared Max to try it once. He got wet.
John Harding likes to be alone. Today I heard him yell at another kid that he didn’t care about anything or anyone.
After school I ran from the room before Max could catch up with me. I wanted to follow John Harding, and I didn’t want Max along.
John Harding walked toward Holmgren’s Pond. I knew that he was still angry because he walked fast.
By the time I had caught up to him, he was skipping rocks on the other side of the pond. John Harding can make a rock skip all the way across the pond when he wants to.
The rope he had used to swing on was tied to a big tree across the pond. Another rope was tied to a fence post on this side.
More than anything else, I wanted to pick up that rope and swing across Holmgren’s Pond. My heart pounded inside my shirt, and my hands were cold with sticky sweat. I looked at the rope and then at John Harding. He had stopped skipping rocks and was watching me. Slowly I gripped my hands above a knot on the rope.
Unexpectedly I heard John Harding yell at me, “Grip your hands higher on the rope, and take a long run with it!”
I looked up at him again.
“Come on!” he yelled. “You can do it.”
Before I knew what was happening, I had swung across Holmgren’s Pond. John Harding caught the rope, and I fell on top of him. We tumbled to the ground, laughing. I had done it! I had swung across Holmgren’s Pond—and I didn’t get wet!
That afternoon John Harding taught me a lot about swinging on ropes. I even learned to do it without closing my eyes.
Later John Harding let me walk home with him. We kicked a can all the way to my house. I think he let me kick it farther than he did.
That night in bed I decided that tomorrow I would sit by John Harding in school.

May I now paint a picture of such a situation. In faraway Bucharest, Romania, Dr. Lynn Oborn, volunteering at an orphanage, was attempting to teach little Raymond, who had never walked, how to use his legs. Raymond had been born with severe clubfeet and was completely blind. Recent orthopedic surgery performed by Dr. Oborn had corrected the clubfeet, but Raymond was still unable to use his legs. Dr. Oborn knew that a child-size walker would enable Raymond to get on his feet, but such a walker was not available anywhere in Romania. I’m sure fervent prayers were offered by this doctor who had done all he could without a walking aid for the boy. Blindness can hamper a child, but inability to walk, to run, to play can injure his precious spirit.
Let us turn now to Provo, Utah. The Richard Headlee family, learning of the suffering in Romania, joined with others to help fill a 40-foot (12-m) container with 40,000 pounds (18,000 kg) of needed supplies, including food, clothing, medicine, blankets, and toys. The project deadline arrived, and the container had to be shipped that day. No one involved with the project knew of the particular need for a child-size walker. However, at the last possible moment, a family brought forth a child’s walker and placed it in the container.
When the anxiously awaited container arrived at the orphanage in Bucharest, Dr. Oborn was present as it was opened. Every item it contained would be put to immediate use at the orphanage. As the Headlee family introduced themselves to Dr. Oborn, he said, “Oh, I hope you brought me a child’s walker for Raymond!”
One of the Headlee family members responded, “I can vaguely remember something like a walker, but I don’t know its size.” Another family member was dispatched back into the container, crawling among all the bales of clothes and boxes of food, searching for the walker. When he found it, he lifted it up and cried out, “It’s a little one!” Cheers erupted—which quickly turned to tears—for they all knew they had been part of a modern-day miracle.
There may be some who say, “We don’t have miracles today.” But the doctor whose prayers were answered would respond, “Oh, yes we do, and Raymond is walking!” She who was inspired to give the walker was a willing vessel and surely would agree.
Who was the angel of mercy touched by the Lord to play a vital role in this human drama? Her name is Kristin, and she was born with spina bifida, as was her younger sister, Erika. The two as children spent long days and worrisome nights in the hospital. Modern medicine, lovingly practiced, along with help from our Heavenly Father brought a measure of mobility to each. Neither is downhearted. Both inspire others to carry on. Kristin is now a college student living on her own, and Erika is an active high school student.
It was once my opportunity to tell Kristin, who had sent her walker to Romania, “Thank you for listening to the Spirit of the Lord. You have been the instrument in the Lord’s hands to answer a doctor’s prayer, a child’s wish.”
Later, I offered my own “Thank You” to God for children, for families, for miracles in our time.

I recently learned about the experiences of a man in Zimbabwe named Sabbath Sibanda Maturure. Born in Shurugwe in what he describes as “an ordinary African hut,” he was the seventh of eleven children. Like three of his sisters, he was crippled from birth. At an early age he blamed God for his handicap and refused to attend the Christian church to which his parents were devoted.
When he was seven, he and his sisters were sent far away from home to attend a school for the disabled. Lonely for his mother, whom he could visit only once a year, he became even more bitter. “Life was terrible,” he remembers. “There was just no hope.”
His bitterness grew when his only two friends—his mother and another handicapped child at the school—died. “There really wasn’t anything left for me—not one ray of hope anywhere. Life was completely without meaning. God was totally unfair and not worthy of my worship or respect.”
But after he was befriended by some Christians who urged him to read the Bible, his heart began to soften. As the years passed, he found work, was married, and had two daughters.
In July 1985 a man who “looked honest, humble, and loving” came to his home and introduced himself as Elder Boyd Lake. Elder and Sister Lake, a missionary couple from Oakley, Utah, had met Sabbath’s wife, Susan, at work, and she had asked them to visit her husband. “Anything that is about Christ makes our lives more sweet,” says Sabbath, “so I welcomed Elder and Sister Lake to our home.” Their message sounded so good that the Maturures invited the Lakes to meet all of their friends at the handicapped center where they worked. And Sabbath and Susan began studying the Book of Mormon.
After several visits from the missionaries, Sabbath became ill. But a priesthood blessing helped to restore his health. He was impressed by the power of the priesthood and the teachings about home evening, fast offering, tithing, and chastity. “I also learned about the eternal family, whereby if we believe and are worthy, we can be married in the temple and be sealed forever as husband and wife and family.”
On 2 August 1986, Sabbath was baptized by the branch president, and Elder Lake baptized Susan and one of their daughters. “What joy we received in our home to be in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—a church that the Lord himself restored!” says Sabbath. Three weeks later, a third daughter, Helen Happiness, was born. (The baby was named in honor of Sister Lake, whose first name is Helen.)
For the Maturure family, Elder and Sister Lake were instruments in the hands of the Lord in working a mighty miracle. How could the Lakes have guessed before they left their home in Utah that they would have such a rich experience in faraway Zimbabwe?

Relaxed in their shirtsleeves on a warm spring day in 1897, the McKay brothers, David O. and Thomas E., sat at a table in their rented cottage, reading their mail.
For David O., this was a time of triumphant climax in his college career and of great expectations for a new world to conquer. His hopes and spirits were high.
After three years in the university’s normal school, he felt ready to resume his chosen career as a teacher, a career he had interrupted to complete his own schooling. Before coming to the university, he had graduated from the Weber Stake Academy in Ogden, Utah, and had returned to his beloved Huntsville, as principal and teacher in the town’s little school.
A year of teaching whetted his appetite for more training, and he again became a student, enrolling at the university. In those three years of college, he displayed qualities that would help carry him to the pinnacle of leadership in the Church.
He was elected president of his class and played on the university’s football team.
A highly prized employment opportunity had been offered him in Salt Lake County, through the recommendation of the university’s teacher training director.
Most important of all, he had found the most wonderful girl in the world, Emma Ray Riggs, and she was willing to become Mrs. McKay. The future, indeed, seemed full of promise for David O. McKay.
Then he read the letter. In a moment, all his hopes seemed dashed. He was called to serve for two years in the British Mission. Swallowing disappointment, he accepted the call. It proved to be a marvelous time of spiritual growth.
He never regretted his decision. Teaching opportunities and Emma Ray awaited him on his return.

Years ago I received a phone call from a distraught mother. She told me that her daughter had moved far from home. She sensed from the little contact she had with her daughter that something was terribly wrong. She pleaded with me to help.

I found out who the daughter’s home teacher was. You can tell by that name that it was a long time ago. I called him. He was young. Yet he told me that he and his companion both had been awakened in the night with not only concern for the daughter but with inspiration that she was about to make choices that would bring sadness and misery. With only that inspiration of the Spirit, they went to see her.

At first she did not want to tell them about her situation. Under inspiration, they pleaded with her to repent and choose the path the Lord had for her. She realized then, I believe by the Spirit, that the only way they could have known what they knew about her life was from God. A mother turned her loving concerns over to Heavenly Father and the Savior. The Holy Ghost had been sent to those home teachers because they were willing to serve the Lord. They had followed the counsel and promise found in the Doctrine and Covenants:

“Let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.

“The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever.”

A nonmember in Wisconsin, with other family members, has been stymied by lack of information on her great-grandfather. She decided to try Ancestral File and, after some searching, discovered her great-grandfather, the very one she had been looking for for many years. Shortly she had transferred to her disk several thousand additional names and over 1,300 marriages on this previously “dead-end” line. She, too, is entering thousands of additional names on other lines to contribute to Ancestral File.

Marusia Lawrence, longtime member of Aylesbury Ward lives in a small community on the outskirts of her town.
In 2018, she made a house-to-house collection hoping to raise enough funds to purchase a silent soldier (also known as ‘Unknown Tommy’, see https://rbli.shop/products/unknown-tommy), a black silhouette of a soldier armed with a rifle, which would be displayed permanently in the village. To her delight, these efforts raised enough money for two silent soldiers for the special 100 Year Centenary Remembrance Sunday in 2018.
For 2019, she organised a Remembrance Service for November of that year. She felt strongly that there should be a formal start prior to the two-minute silence and asked fellow Church friend—Richard Godivala—to play the “Last Post” on his trumpet, dramatically setting the scene for the rest of the programme.
All neighbours attending were able to sincerely reflect on a reading of “In Flanders Field” by John McCrae (Canadian poet, soldier, and physician, who died in 1918 in France) and then a reading of “For The Fallen,” written by Englishman Laurence Binyon in 1914.
The service finished by singing the national anthem. Afterwards attendees socialised and talked of their thanks for peace in Europe since 1945, sharing beverages and biscuits at local venue, Cooper’s Barn. Marusia said these quotes made by World War II soldiers truly resonated at this Remembrance Service:
“For your tomorrow they gave their today.”
“Attitude, gratitude and service before self brings happiness and fulfilment in life”
“Brave soldiers laid down their lives for everyone to bring peace into the world.”

There was a point in my life when I was so emotionally hurt that it affected every other aspect of my life. I couldn’t focus on classes or homework, my relationship with my roommates was strained, and I was constantly on the verge of tears. More than anything, I was having a hard time forgiving the person who had caused me hurt in the first place—and even madder that I was having a hard time forgiving.
Finally, I decided I was done being sad and angry. I no longer wanted to carry that burden. I pleaded with Heavenly Father to help me forgive. Before I knew it, the pain was bearable. It wasn’t gone, but I could bear it. Through this experience I learned that the Savior’s Atonement does not just allow us to repent; it also helps us heal. When I approached Heavenly Father with my burdens, in humility and with a sincere heart, He helped me carry the hurt, pain, and heartache I held.
Dani Lauricella, California, USA

The Young Women of the Cedar Rapids Iowa Stake responded to the challenge presented by the stake Young Women leaders to read the Book of Mormon before they went to girls’ camp. The 63 girls who met the challenge were presented with a small vase, and those who attended camp signed a banner that said, “I Have Read the Book of Mormon.” The banner was sent to President Benson.

During camp, the girls and leaders were challenged to take home a Book of Mormon to give to a nonmember. The girls also added their comments to letters being written on long strips of paper that were sent to the full-time missionaries serving from their stake.

Besides learning more camping skills, the girls found that many testimonies were strengthened and new friendships made.

Liola Christine Nau Hingano grew up in the Church, and she often saw the missionaries serving in her community. “I wanted to serve a mission myself,” she says. However, serving would not be easy.
Shortly after Liola submitted her mission papers, she became very sick. The doctors discovered she had a tumor and had to perform surgery to remove it. While she was in the hospital, Liola received her mission call—to serve in Tonga. She had two months to recover before starting her mission, but it was a difficult time for Liola because her parents thought a mission would be too hard on her and didn’t want her to go.
“But I believed that because the Lord had called me, I would be OK, so I decided to go,” she says. “When I entered the missionary training center, the mission president gave me a blessing and said that as I served the Lord, I would be as healthy as any missionary.
“My first mission area was very hard. We walked for miles each day just to get to the area where we were working. We carried our scriptures with us, and the sun was hot. But I knew I would be fine because I had received a priesthood blessing that said so. And I was. I never had trouble because of my previous illness.
“I am very grateful I had the courage to go on a mission and not turn back. It has made such a difference in who I am today—and in my testimony. I have faith in our Savior and Heavenly Father.”

On Sundays my mom usually woke me up so I could get ready for church and get there before the meetings began. But one Sunday my mom didn’t wake me up. I woke up by myself and noticed that I didn’t hear the usual noise of my family getting ready for church. I nervously looked at the clock and realized I was half an hour late for church. I had missed the sacrament. I probably would miss Sunday School too.
I felt confused and abandoned. Why didn’t my mom wake me up this morning? She always woke me up. But then it hit me: It wasn’t my mom’s responsibility to wake me up so I could get to church on time—it was mine. I had made my own covenants with Heavenly Father, and it was my responsibility to keep them.
Later that day my mom commented on not waking me up for church. She said that she wouldn’t wake me up again. She told me that I should put in my own effort and gain my own testimony.
During that week, I found myself thinking about how I couldn’t live on my parents’ testimonies forever and how I should try harder to strengthen my own testimony. Since then, I have worked hard to wake up early every Sunday so that I can make it to church on time and take the sacrament. I am learning to be spiritually self-sufficient.
Lia A., Ceará, Brazil

Our grandchildren are learning that when they make a choice, they also choose its consequences. Recently one of our three-year-old granddaughters refused to eat her dinner. Her mother explained, “It’s almost bedtime. If you choose to eat dinner, you are choosing ice cream for dessert. If you choose not to eat dinner, you are choosing to go to bed now, without ice cream.” Our granddaughter considered her two choices and then stated emphatically, “I want this choice—to play and eat only ice cream and not go to bed.”

Sometime back I had the privilege of attending a stake conference in the company of President Spencer W. Kimball. He was not the president of the Church at that time. Elder Kimball worked tirelessly holding one meeting after another until late Saturday night. On Sunday we held a meeting with bishoprics and high councilors at 8:00 A.M. This was followed by the general session, a meeting with the seventies quorum, an interview with the patriarch, the dedication of a chapel, and a talk to the seminary students in the evening. We went to the stake president’s home about 9:00 P.M. to wait for our plane that did not leave until nearly 11:00 P.M. The kindly stake president’s wife wanted to fix us dinner. Elder Kimball said, “Please, all I need is a bowl of milk and some of your homemade bread to break up in it.” These are not men to be conquered.

The sun hung low after a warm summer day in Pacheco, in the Latter-day Saint colonies in Mexico. As five-year-old Mae and two-year-old Wasel played outside, they could smell smoke wafting from adobe chimneys and open fires. Supper would be ready soon. Sure enough, Mama called, “Mae! Wasel! Go wash up.” The girls quickly obeyed and went inside to eat.
After supper, Mama said, “Come, little Wasel.” Every night Wasel went with Mama and Papa to herd the cows. Mae and baby David stayed home with Aunt Hattie. Wasel loved this time alone with her parents. She was so excited that she ran outside still clutching her dinner spoon.
“I don’t think Wasel should come with us tonight. We have to care for some horses, and it may be too far for her to walk,” Papa said.
Mama nodded. “Wasel, Mama and Papa are going on a long walk tonight. Take that spoon back to the house and give it to Aunt Hattie. Then you can play with the other children, and tomorrow you can come with us to get the cows.”
Wasel just stood there, holding her spoon. She didn’t want to go back to the house.
“Run along now,” Mama said. Wasel turned and ran toward the house, but when her parents were out of sight, she put her spoon near the door and decided to go get the cows after all. She knew the way to the pasture. But she didn’t know that her parents hadn’t gone straight there.
The shadows grew long as the sun sank lower. Wasel walked and walked, through fields and corn patches. Wolves howled in the distance. Wasel came to a marshy area and walked there for a long time. She liked to feel the mud squishing between her bare toes.
When Mama and Papa returned from the cow pasture, Mama went inside to put the children to bed, and Papa went to the barn to take care of the animals.
“Hattie, where is Wasel?” Mama asked.
Aunt Hattie froze. “Wasn’t she with you?”
“Yes, but we sent her back here.”
“Well, I haven’t seen her!” Aunt Hattie exclaimed.
Mama and Aunt Hattie called for Wasel and searched in all the rooms and in the yard. Then Mama ran to the barn.
“Wasel isn’t here. I’m going to look for her,” she told Papa.
“She’s probably asleep somewhere,” Papa said. “I’ll look in the house.”
Mama knew that Wasel wasn’t in the house. She ran to the river and the cornfield calling, “Wasel! Wasel! Can you hear me, Wasel?” There was no answer, so she returned to the house.
“I think we need help,” Papa said.
Just then, Aunt Hattie pointed out the window. “Look! It’s Brother Carroll.”
Papa ran outside and stopped him. “Wasel is lost,” he explained.
“I’m on my way to the church for a meeting,” Brother Carroll said. “I’ll tell everyone that you need help looking for her.”
When Brother Carroll told Bishop Hardy that Wasel was lost, Bishop Hardy dismissed the meeting and asked the brethren to go search for her.
As everyone searched under the beds, in the outbuildings, and through the house, Mama began to fear for Wasel’s life. “We are wasting time looking for her here. We have already done that, and I know she’s not here!” she cried.
Wasel’s grandpa gathered the men together. “Let’s divide into small groups and circle the area,” he said. “Whoever finds her will return here and fire a gun five times to signal the rest of us.”
One group went with the bishop. They followed the road toward the cow pasture.
“Look, Bishop!” someone shouted. “Little footprints.”
The men held their lanterns high and carefully followed the footprints until they reached the marsh. The ground was too moist there to hold any tracks.
Bishop Hardy instructed the men to kneel on the soggy ground. Then he prayed for Wasel’s safety and for guidance to find her.
With teary eyes, Bishop Hardy rose. He thought he heard something and paused to listen. There, very faintly—yes! He could hear her! The others strained but heard nothing. “She’s calling for her mama!” he exclaimed.
Bishop Hardy ran toward the sound he heard so clearly. He stopped occasionally to listen—“Mama!”—and hurried on. He ran through fields and over hills for nearly two miles (3 km). He found himself in a rugged canyon, the moonlight falling softly around him. Then, suddenly, he saw Wasel walking wearily along the mountainside. Bishop Hardy ran to her and gathered her into his arms. “Mama,” Wasel whispered as she fell asleep.
The bishop carried Wasel back to the house as quickly as he could go. Mama took Wasel in her arms, and tears of joy flowed freely from her eyes. She offered a silent prayer of thanks to Heavenly Father for bringing little Wasel home safely.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bishop Hardy fired the gun with joy. When Papa arrived, he hugged his wife and daughter, weeping with gratitude. Then everyone knelt in a circle, and Bishop Hardy thanked the Lord for protecting Wasel. He knew that he couldn’t have heard her soft cries on his own. But the Lord was watching over Wasel and had helped him to find her.

I remember that I wasn’t very comfortable at church for a while because I didn’t have my family to go with me. I knew the Church was true, so I gave myself a year to get comfortable and see how I fit. By the time that year was up, I never wanted to leave church. Mama used to say, “Honey, why don’t you come home once in a while.” Every opportunity I had, I was at church. I loved it there.
A sister in the ward came up to me, just before I left on my mission, and asked me, “What kept you coming back to church, every Sunday all by yourself.” I really couldn’t give her a direct answer, but something pushed me toward church every Sunday.

A lifetime of spiritual experiences for Lorenzo Snow was climaxed following the death of President Wilford Woodruff. President Snow, who was then serving as President of the Quorum of the Twelve, went to the Salt Lake Temple. Dressed in his temple robes, he knelt to pray, reminding the Lord that he had often prayed that President Woodruff would outlive him, so that he would not be required to carry the heavy responsibilities as President of the Church. But he then told the Lord that he would do whatever was required of him.
After his prayer, President Snow waited for an answer from the Lord, but nothing came. Later, as he was walking through a corridor, a glorious manifestation was suddenly opened up to him: The Lord Jesus Christ appeared to him. President Snow later told his granddaughter about the experience, showing her the spot in the temple where it had occurred. She wrote:
“Grand-pa came a step nearer and held out his left hand and said: ‘He stood right here, about three feet above the floor. It looked as though He stood on a plate of solid gold.’
“Grand-pa told me what a glorious personage the Savior is and described His hands, feet, countenance and beautiful white robes, all of which were of such a glory of whiteness and brightness that he could hardly gaze upon Him.
“Then he came another step nearer and put his right hand on my head and said: ‘Now, grand-daughter, I want you to remember that this is the testimony of your grand-father, that he told you with his own lips that he actually saw the Savior, here in the Temple, and talked with Him face to face.’”

Why would a person without compelling challenges, needs, or questions be interested in meeting the missionaries and listening to their lessons? Well, in my case it was love—love for a girl, a girl named Renee. I fell in love with her, and I wanted to marry her. She was different and had standards different from most young women I knew. But I fell for her and asked her to marry me—and she said no!

I was confused. I thought I was quite a catch! I was handsome, 24 years old, and a college graduate with a great job. She spoke of her goals—of marrying only someone who could take her to the temple, of having an eternal family—and she declined my offer. I wanted to continue the relationship, so I agreed to listen to the missionaries. Is this a good reason to meet with the missionaries? Well, it was for me.

Illustration by Jessica Parker
I was six when I had to leave my birth family. It was very sad and scary. A few months after this happened, I first heard about Jesus Christ.
I started visiting a family who became my foster family. They had lots of kids who were kind to me and loved the Savior. My new family let me go to church with them, and I felt safe and happy there.
It took a few years of going to church and reading scriptures before I understood what the gospel was, and I wanted to get baptized very badly. I was 12 years old when I was finally adopted by my foster family, and I was allowed to be baptized if I wanted to!
At my baptism, I bore my testimony and felt God’s love surround me with a great strength.
Reading the Book of Mormon and learning about Jesus has helped me know I’m not alone and that I’m a child of God. Even when things don’t go how I want, He will always be there for me.
Violet B., Hawaii, USA