Gospel Story Finder

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Augusto sat on his porch to enjoy the sunshine. His daughter, Mylene, climbed onto his lap.
“Tatay (Dad),” she said, “why don’t we go to church like my friends?”
Augusto wasn’t sure what to say.
“Well,” he said finally, “your mom and I went to different churches before we got married. But afterwards we stopped. We still believe in God and study the Bible, though.”
Mylene nodded. But Augusto kept thinking about her question. Maybe he did need to take his family to church.
Augusto decided to pray. “If you want me to serve in a church or do anything for you, just let me know,” he told Heavenly Father.
A few days later, there was a knock at the door. It was two young men in white shirts and black nametags. They said they were from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Augusto had many questions for them. For nine months, he listened to them teach. Finally, he decided to be baptized. He promised God that he would always do his best to obey and help others. His wife, Myrna, was baptized one month later. And little Mylene was happy to go to church!
Augusto and his family helped the Church to grow. They helped build the Church’s first chapel in the Philippines. Augusto also served as a branch president several times. Even though it was hard, Augusto remembered the promise he made at his baptism to do his best.
Years passed. Augusto’s family grew, and so did the Church. When the first stake in the Philippines was organized, Augusto was the stake president. Mylene grew up and got married in the temple. So did Augusto’s other children. Some served missions too.
Eventually, Augusto was called to be a mission president in the Philippines. He helped the missionaries have faith and share the gospel, just like the missionaries who taught him.
One day, Augusto got a phone call from the prophet. He asked Augusto to serve as a General Authority. That meant Augusto would teach other leaders in the Church. It also meant he would give a talk in general conference!
When it was his turn to speak, Augusto stepped up to the pulpit. He took a deep breath. He talked about the faithful members in the Philippines. He talked about the missionaries there who worked so hard. And he shared his testimony of God’s love.
As he sat back down, Augusto felt happy. He knew Heavenly Father had helped him keep the promise he made at baptism. And no matter what happened, Augusto knew he would keep that promise for the rest of his life.

Carlos rubbed his hand along his head, feeling his bare scalp. He sighed.
His hair had been falling out for a while now. It was a side effect of the cancer treatments he was having. Carlos had decided to shave the rest of it off because he didn’t like how patchy his hair looked. He used to have shiny dark hair. Now all he had was a shiny scalp.
“Carlos? Are you ready for church? It’s time to go,” Mom called.
“Coming,” Carlos called back. He straightened his favorite tie and grabbed his scriptures. Then he ran out to the car.
This would be his first Sunday passing the sacrament without any hair. He was going to be the only bald deacon. Was everyone going to stare at him?
Carlos didn’t say anything for the whole drive to church. He listened to his siblings and parents talk. His stomach was doing flips, and his hands were sweaty. The closer they got to church, the jumpier his stomach got.
The car pulled into the church parking lot. Everyone unbuckled their seatbelts. Everyone except Carlos. Part of him wanted to just sit in the car and never come out.
Mom noticed he wasn’t moving. “What’s wrong, Carlos?”
“I’m nervous about passing the sacrament. I don’t want everyone to stare at me,” Carlos said.
Mom turned around to look at Carlos. “Would you like to say a prayer before we go in?”
“Yeah,” Carlos said. Everyone folded their arms and closed their eyes while Carlos said a prayer. He thanked Heavenly Father that he was able to pass the sacrament. Then he asked for help to not worry about other people staring at him. When he opened his eyes, he felt peaceful and ready.
“That was a beautiful prayer. I know Heavenly Father will help you,” Mom said.
Carlos smiled. He remembered the end of the sacrament prayer, “that they may always have his Spirit to be with them” (Doctrine and Covenants 20:77). Helping others have the Holy Ghost with them was one of Carlos’s favorite parts of passing the sacrament. Now he felt warm and confident. He was ready.
Carlos walked into the chapel. He looked for his friends in the deacons quorum in the pews in front of the sacrament table. He couldn’t see them. Instead, he saw seven bald heads. Where were all of his friends from deacons quorum?
He walked up to the pews and realized that those seven bald heads belonged to his friends!
The deacons quorum president, Samuel, was smiling at Carlos. “We had the idea to shave our heads. We didn’t want you to feel alone.”
Carlos hardly knew what to say. He thanked his friends and prayed silently to Heavenly Father. He thanked Him for blessing him with such good friends.
Carlos stood tall as he passed the sacrament. He wasn’t alone at all! He had good friends, and he had the Holy Ghost with him.

The wee hours of the morning became my solace as I pondered the scriptures and learned about the Savior while administering Sarah’s IV medication. I studied Romans 5:8–9, which says:
“But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
“Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.”
And then I thought of Luke 22:44: “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”
Prayer at Gethsemane, by Del Parson
As I read those verses, the thought struck me that blood represents life and living and that Christ bled from every pore to give us life—eternal life.
A few days later, Sarah and I were in the bone marrow transplant clinic, where she would receive a red blood cell transfusion. She had been premedicated for the procedure and was peacefully sleeping in my arms. I began to think intently about Sarah and how her situation was so dire: she was getting sicker and sicker by the day. Parts of her body had quit functioning altogether. Her red blood count had fallen drastically; she had no white blood count to speak of and would also be receiving a platelet transfusion before the day was finished. She was lethargic and weaker than normal, and her appearance was paler. Without new red blood cells to revive her body, life would eventually slip away.
But gratefully, I watched as precious red blood cells slowly dripped from a tiny bag and flowed through the IV tubing directly into Sarah’s body through her central line, literally offering her new life. I observed a physical transformation as Sarah’s cheeks and hands became a beautiful pink hue again. She even seemed to be breathing a little easier. Peace filled my mind as I knew that, once again, her body would be receiving its vital nourishment through the circulation of the new red blood cells. Life would continue.
Watching this physical transformation showed me in a powerful way how vital blood is to the body. Blood brings nourishment and oxygen to all the cells in the body, making them healthy and strong and helping them perform their proper functions. Blood also cleanses the body of the impurities that build up through daily wear and tear. The white blood cells fight off dangerous infections, and the platelets heal our inner workings automatically so we don’t bleed to death.
As I observed how precious this blood was to my daughter, I was suddenly struck by how much more important the Savior’s blood is to our souls. Through His suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Savior offered each of us the chance for a transfusion—a spiritual transfusion. Sarah needed physical blood for her life to continue, but everyone who comes to this earth needs the spiritual blood transfusion that can only be received through our personal acceptance of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Only then can we be cleansed of all our impurities and of the sins we have committed and become completely whole, ready to live in the presence of our Father in Heaven.
Because our Savior loves us, He “washed us from our sins in his own blood” (Revelation 1:5), and with His blood He cleanses us from sin. But this transfusion will not be forced upon us. With our agency, each of us can choose to accept His transfusion and become clean and whole so that our spiritual life can continue, or we can reject the transfusion, giving up our life with our Heavenly Father. Repenting and turning to Christ are the only ways we can receive this transfusion. Repentance is our “central line” between us and our Savior; without it, there is no possible way for His blood to free us from our sins.
Once we have repented and truly called upon Christ for mercy (see Alma 36:18), our sins, though they “be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18). How ironic that blood, which stains garments, is also offered to us as a purifier. Just as our physical bodies are purified and cleansed through our blood, our spirits are purified and cleansed through our Savior’s atoning blood. And with our garments made white, we can stand spotless before God (see Alma 13:12).
Christ’s sacrifice also answers the ends of the law for all who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit (see 2 Nephi 2:7). Think for a minute about the workings of the heart: it pumps oxygen-rich blood throughout our bodies, keeping them functioning properly and making it so all the cells can be nourished and cleansed. If a heart breaks, it cannot function properly, and life ceases to exist. But if we “come unto [our Savior] with a broken heart,” we will be saved (see 3 Nephi 12:19–20). Jesus Christ can take our broken hearts and, through the power of His Atonement, make them work perfectly. Without Christ, our broken hearts cannot function and eternal life cannot be ours, but with Him a humble and repentant heart can properly function.
After Sarah had relapsed, we were faced with the challenge of deciding whether or not we should continue on with chemotherapy treatment. As we spoke with the doctors, they urged us to use the treatment because her white blood count had escalated to the point where she could begin bleeding out if we did not. Bleeding out is when the blood vessels begin spontaneously bursting throughout the body, becoming most obvious in the eyes, mouth, and nose. We were told it can be an excruciatingly painful process
When I heard this, my mind again turned to the Savior. He experienced a similar process as He suffered for all the sins that would ever be committed. King Benjamin taught of Jesus Christ’s suffering: “Blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish for the wickedness and the abominations of his people” (Mosiah 3:7). How excruciating His pain must have been as He bled from every pore.
Christ’s pain was again on my mind as I held my daughter in her final hours. I thought of Christ’s plea: “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). But it was not the will of the Father to remove the cup, and Christ accepted this and continued forward with the Atonement. The Father, being merciful, sent an “angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:43). In that moment and others, I too was given a strength to endure that was not my own. Our Father in Heaven is merciful. He knows us individually and loves us personally. He sent His Son, even Jesus Christ, to earth to atone for our sins and offer us a spiritual transfusion because He knew it was the only way for us to enter into His presence and live with Him again.
Author’s note: Although Sarah passed away in 2004, we did have about a year and a half following her bone marrow transplant to enjoy her happy and spunky disposition.

In another instance, a Laurel class president determined that she was going to fulfill her responsibility to activate a girl even though her leaders felt the situation was almost hopeless. Her bishop told her that because of some problems in the home and for other reasons, there was very little chance this girl would ever come to church. The other class members laughed when they learned helping this girl come back to church was to be one of the goals of their class president.

Nevertheless, she was determined to befriend this girl and enlisted the help of a neighbor girl as well. They began by saying “Hi” whenever they saw her and always stopping to visit for a minute. Then they started finding reasons to visit her. She was selected to be a member of the Booster Club for her high school wrestling team. The Laurel class president took her a flower and a note expressing congratulations. This process went on for three or four months. Finally, one Sunday the girl accepted an invitation to come to Sunday School. The next week she was there again, and that week she also attended Mutual. Because of her courage and faith, a young Laurel influenced one of her peers to take the first step toward activity in the Church.

I was living with my mom in a little town in Mexico where everyone knows each other. I knew right from wrong, but I was confused and the only active young woman in the whole town.
I wanted to fit in, so I did one thing that made sense back then: have a boyfriend. This was only one of the first mistakes I started to make. I started giving in to peer pressure and believing I was old enough to think for myself, which meant becoming an inactive young woman who lived in darkness.
I lived in darkness for a year, with every passing day becoming darker. My poor decisions led to arguments with my family, and I realized I couldn’t keep living with them. But it wasn’t until the death of a close Latter-day Saint friend that I realized something was missing. Unfortunately, I blamed God and the gospel. I stopped believing that blessings came from being obedient. I knew that if I didn’t decide to start living the gospel, I would continue ignoring my connection with the Church and keep living in a worldly manner.
I was sitting on my bed in a dark room, crying and feeling sorry for myself when I realized that I was afraid—afraid of being there alone with no one to talk to, afraid of not being able to fix all the wrongs I had done, afraid that no one was going to forgive me, especially God.
Eventually, I moved to Minnesota, USA, with my grandparents, who are not members of the Church. My stepdad flew with me, and my first Sunday there, we went to church, but only for sacrament meeting. By the end of the meeting I had already decided to leave the Church, but to my surprise, just when we were going to the car, we saw the bishop running to catch up to us. He asked us a few questions and invited us to come back next Sunday—and we did.
The next Sunday, just as sacrament meeting was ending, before I could stand up, I was surrounded by the young women from the ward—young women who would help me change my life.
Illustration by Alberto Ruggieri
I suddenly entered a completely different world: a world with a bishop and a Young Women president who cared for me and, most of all, young women who tried to live the gospel daily, who strived to live high standards and stand for the right. They shined so much that they could brighten the path before me.
That’s when I realized what I had to do: “Let [my] light so shine before men, that they may see [my] good works, and glorify [my] Father which is in heaven” (see Matthew 5:16). And so I started by going to church and Mutual every week, reading the Book of Mormon and praying every day, dressing modestly, using better language, going to the temple, and preparing myself to get my patriarchal blessing.
I had completely changed, but I didn’t realize it until Young Women camp, when I felt the Holy Ghost and discovered that I had a testimony—a testimony that would remind me that God loves me, that He has a plan for me, and that He doesn’t want me to be alone. A testimony so bright and strong that it changed me. A testimony to share and light not only my path but others’. A testimony that is not afraid to shine in the dark.

For a moment let me take you with me back to my college days. As a student at the University of Utah, I was attending a dance on campus. I was dancing with my date, a girl from West High School, when a young lady from East High School danced by with her partner. Her name was Frances Johnson, although I didn’t know it at the time. I just took one look and decided that there was a young lady I wanted to meet. But she danced away. I might never have seen her again.

About two months later I did. One day while waiting for the streetcar in Salt Lake City, I looked across the way and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was the young lady I had seen dancing across the floor. She was standing with another young lady and a young man whom I remembered from grade school days. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember his name. I had a decision to make. What should I do? I found in my heart an appreciation of the phrase: “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past.” I squared my shoulders and plunged toward my opportunity. I walked up to that young man and said, “Hello, my old friend from grade school days.”

He looked at me blankly and said, “I can’t quite remember your name.” I told him my name. He told me his name, and then he introduced me to the girl who later became my wife. That day I made a note in my student directory to call on Frances Beverly Johnson, and I did. That decision, I believe, was perhaps the most important that I have ever made.

To provide a common point of reference for my remarks, I’d like to begin by relating an experience taken from Joseph Smith’s diary. During the second week of December 1835, the Prophet spent several evenings participating in a debate at the home of his brother, William, in Kirtland, Ohio. The subject of the debate was whether it was necessary for God to reveal himself to man in order for us to experience happiness. Joseph spoke in favor of the proposition—his intimate understanding of the subject and his forceful nature undoubtedly contributed to his side winning the debate.

At the conclusion of this activity, the future of the debate series was discussed. Joseph urged the group to disband, fearing, in his words, “that it would not result in good” (Dean C. Jessee, comp. and ed., The Personal Writings of Joseph Smith (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1984), p. 105). William opposed this position and became very angry. He refused to allow his brother Hyrum to express his opinion on the subject, invoking his right as the owner of the home to manage the discussion as he saw fit. William’s frustrations grew to the point that, according to the Prophet, he “used violence upon my person” (Jessee, Personal Writings,p. 106).

A few days later Joseph described this event and its effects:
I left [his] house with feelings that were indescribable. The scenery had changed [along with] all those expectations that I had cherished, when going to [his]house, of brotherly kindness, charity, forbearance and natural affection, that in duty binds us not to make each other offenders for a word.
. . . With marks of violence heaped upon me by a brother . . . I returned home, not able to sit down, or rise up, without help, but through the blessings of God I am now better. [p. 114; text modernized]

This experience was equally troubling to William, as reflected in the following letter he sent Joseph: “Brother Joseph—Though I do not know but [if] I have forfeited all right and title to the word brother, in consequence of what I have done.” He then requested a release from his apostleship, because “then I would not . . . bring so much disgrace upon the cause, when I fell into temptation [because of my] passions” (pp. 110–11; spelling corrected).

From the Prophet’s entry in his journal two weeks later, on the morning of January 1, 1836, it is evident that, although his physical wounds had healed, his emotional scars were still very painful.

Notwithstanding the gratitude that fills my heart [in reflecting on] the past year, and the multiplied blessings that have crowned our heads, my heart is pained within me because of the difficulty that exists in my father’s family. The Devil has made a violent attack on Brother William and Brother Calvin, and the powers of darkness . . . cast a gloomy shade over the minds of my brothers and sisters, which prevents them from seeing things as they really are. The powers of earth and hell seem combined to overthrow us and the church by causing a division in the family. Indeed, the adversary is bringing into requisition all his subtlety to prevent the Saints from being endowed, by causing division among the 12, also among the 70, and bickerings and jealousies among the Elders and official members of the church. . . .
But I am determined that nothing on my part shall be lacking to . . . amicably . . . settle all family difficulties on this day, that the ensuing year . . . may be spent in righteousness before God. [p. 121; text modernized]

Later that day, Joseph’s father, uncle, brothers Hyrum and William, and Martin Harris attended a meeting in the Prophet’s home. According to Joseph’s account, his father opened with prayer, and then
expressed his feelings . . . with all the sympathy of a father whose feelings were wounded deeply on . . . account of the difficulty that [existed] in the family. And while he addressed us the spirit of God rested down upon us in mighty power, and our hearts were melted. Brother William made a humble confession and asked my forgiveness for the abuse he had offered me, and wherein I had been out of the way I asked his forgiveness. The spirit of confession and forgiveness was mutual among us all, and we covenanted with each other . . . to strive from hence forward to build each other up in righteousness in all things and [to] not listen to evil reports concerning each other, but [to] go to each other with our grievances in the spirit of meekness and be reconciled, and thereby promote our own happiness and the happiness of our family and, in short, the happiness and well-being of all. [p. 122; text modernized]

This was a special day in the life of Mark Newman. The sacred opportunity of sustaining a new prophet in last October’s solemn assembly was a special privilege for him. This great experience was framed by the other things that Mark’s Fridays have a way of requiring.
He had breakfast while catching a few more moments of study, then uttered a prayer about his part in the great assembly, and later, after the solemn assembly, he hurried to his math class at the University of Utah. All in a day’s experience, but a very special day after all.

One of the darkest periods in the history of the Church was the winter of 1838–39. The Saints had been persecuted, robbed, and murdered. The Prophet and his associates had been betrayed and were imprisoned in Liberty Jail. Dissention and apostasy were rampant, and the Church appeared to be faced with disintegration and ruin. But emerging from this dark period were the men who led the Church through trying experiences as well as amazing growth and development. But this was not all: It was during these dark days that the Lord revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith, while in Liberty Jail, a great revelation. Liberty Jail for a time became a center of instruction.

Elder B. H. Roberts, in the Comprehensive History of the Church, had this to say:

The eyes of the saints were turned to it [Liberty Jail] as the place whence would come encouragement, counsel—the word of the Lord. It was more temple than prison, so long as the Prophet was there. It was a place of meditation and prayer. A temple, first of all, is a place of prayer; and prayer is communion with God. It is the “infinite in man seeking the infinite in God.” Where they find each other, there is holy sanctuary—a temple. Joseph Smith sought God in this rude prison, and found him. Out of the midst of his tribulations he called upon God in passionate earnestness. [HC, 1:526]

The answer came as God replied:

My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;

And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high. [D&C 121:7–8; emphasis added]

The Prophet Joseph Smith was told that if great tribulation should beset him and even if

the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.
The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou great than he? [D&C 122:7–8]

Time has also taught me something about the ebb and flow of our own powers and of how we may not notice that change. At Christmastime one of our married sons stayed with his wife and baby in our basement guest room. He found there a daily journal I had kept as a young father, not much older than many of you. I had forgotten it was there and what it contained. At dinner my son began to recount what he had read there of my experiences with him and his brothers and of my straining to live a little better, to have the Atonement work more fully in my life, and to become what I needed to be. He had read of my working intensely and praying earnestly into the early hours of the morning. As he spoke, I thought of some of you.

You may come upon your missionary journals put away in a closet in your home. You may read and feel a shock as you remember how hard you worked, how constantly you thought of the Savior and His sacrifice for you and for those you tried to meet and teach, and how fervently and often you prayed. The shock will come from realizing how much the cares of life have taken you from where you once were, so close to always remembering and always praying.

Anthonette Pearson, 14, and her German shepherd puppy Kemper go just about everywhere together—shopping malls, restaurants, parks, etc.

Anthonette is “socializing” Kemper, so he can train as a seeing eye dog when he is 18–20 months old.

When the time comes, it will be difficult for Anthonette to give up her buddy. She’s house-trained him and taught him certain commands as well. “I’ll be giving away a piece of my heart,” she says, “but I’ll also be giving the gift of sight to a blind person.” She knows it’s worth the effort.

Anthonette lives in Chatsworth, California.

The MTC was wonderful, all except for getting up at 6:30, but Steve mastered that as he had mastered the spiral pass and the jump shot. Then came the mission field and the realization that missionary work is tough. As tough as football or basketball.

“I’d say it’s harder,” Elder Sargent insists. “Maybe not physically, although physically it wears you down sometimes too. But mentally it’s a lot tougher. You need to put out more effort to be a good missionary than to be a good quarterback.

“Everybody says in their homecoming talk how great it was, so I always expected to spend 24 hours a day on a spiritual high. I soon found out that it isn’t like that. There’s a lot of hard work involved, but when you see the results it’s worth it.”

And then, there was always the language barrier. “The first two weeks I thought they were speaking Chinese.” But his ear soon adjusted, and his tongue got used to its new assignment. “I feel that the Lord’s really helped me a lot in picking up the language.”

In March of 1886, Elder Lorenzo Snow, then 71 years of age and a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, became the most prominent LDS leader to be incarcerated for the practice of plural marriage. He entered the Utah Territorial Prison in Sugar House, Utah, convicted under the federal anti-polygamy Edmunds Act, which was passed in 1882. For those persecuting the Mormon people for their religious practices and beliefs, this was considered a great victory.

Lorenzo Snow joined the Church in 1836 in Kirtland, Ohio, along with his sister Eliza R. Snow. As an early member of the Church he served missions in Ohio, Illinois, and Kentucky before beginning extensive missionary service in Great Britain. Brother Snow arrived in the Salt Lake Valley in 1848, and in 1849 he was called as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. After returning from additional missionary service in Europe, Elder Snow was called to preside in Box Elder County. Eventually he settled his large family in Brigham City, where he happily remained until he became president of the Church in 1898.

This peaceful period was interrupted in November 1885 when he was arrested for the practice of plural marriage. A non-Mormon jury convicted him, and he was sentenced in January to 18 months in prison.

While awaiting sentencing, Elder Snow spoke to a group of Saints in Brigham City:
I go to prison with the full assurance that I can serve God and His purposes—magnify my calling, and prove to the world, my faith and sincerity in the principles I have taught, during fifty years, among many nations—that Jesus is the Son of God—that He has revealed His Priesthood, and the fulness of the ancient Gospel, and established His Church by revelation. . . .
. . . In a few days I must leave family, kind friends and associates with whom I have spent so many pleasant hours in “The City I love so well”—proceed to Ogden—receive my sentence, then retire to private life, within my prison walls, for “The word of God and testimony of Jesus.” [JD 26:365–66, 368]

It would be easy to understand if Elder Snow entered prison embittered and resentful of a government that convicted him for practicing his religious beliefs. Certainly a natural reaction would be to withdraw and suffer in silence the long months of incarceration that lay ahead. This was not to be the case with Elder Snow. Accepting his lot, he immediately went about helping his fellow prisoners. He organized classes in reading, writing, math, and bookkeeping. One prisoner recorded:

Some six weeks ago Apostle Snow, feeling a deepening interest in the school, kindly volunteered to give two lectures a week on grammar. A class of fifteen members was organized and has since been under his kind and able tutelage and it has brought new life into the study and his lectures are looked forward to with the warmest interest. His able, kind, and genial manners have found way into the hearts of the entire school. [H. T. B. Grey, in “The Penitentiary School,” Utah Journal, 14 July 1886, 1]

Rudger Clawson, a fellow Mormon polygamist convicted in 1884, said this about his time of incarceration with Lorenzo Snow:

He was considered an excellent authority on doctrinal points, and his views were frequently sought; as we sat around the table during the long hours of the evening, he often discoursed interestingly upon matters pertaining to the past, present, and future conditions of man. I shall ever look back to those hours—hours passed in prison—as among the most profitable of my life. [Prisoner for Polygamy: The Memoirs and Letters of Rudger Clawson at the Utah Territorial Penitentiary, 1884–87, ed. Stan Larson (Urbana, Illinois: University of Illinois, 1993), 128]

Elder Lorenzo Snow is another example of someone turning an impossible situation into an environment of learning and faith, replacing fear and hatred. He lived the words of the Lord included in the Doctrine and Covenants and adopted as the theme for this Campus Education Week:
And as all have not faith, seek ye diligently and teach one another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith. [D&C 88:118]

Christophe and Isabelle are both from France, the children of converts to the Church whose conversion stories are similar. In 1968, Isabelle’s family (the Mauclairs) was living in Bordeaux, France, when two missionaries from the Church knocked on the door. They were invited in and told their story. The visit resulted in membership in Heavenly Father’s kingdom on earth.
Christophe was born on January 21, 1966, the first of seven children born to Gerard and Annie Giraud-Carrier. When he was two, his parents met missionaries on the streets of Toulouse, France, and provided their phone number to the missionaries. Those missionaries misplaced the number and never called. Subsequent missionaries found the number, called, visited, taught and baptized the Giraud-Carriers.
Both couples were devoted to the gospel of Jesus Christ, teaching their children and serving wherever called. They served in significant ways, including in branch and ward leadership and in district and stake leadership callings.
Isabelle’s father was a physician in the French armed forces, which gave him opportunities to serve in foreign lands. Consequently, several of Isabelle’s childhood years were spent in Djibouti, New Caledonia and Algeria. The Church was not established in some of those countries. Worship and gospel living were thus family centered with no supporting Church organization. Family prayer and family scripture study were regular practices in the home, as were weekly sacrament meetings.
In the late 1970s the Mauclairs moved back to metropolitan France, first to Auch (pronounced Osh) near Toulouse. In 1978, they moved to the Versailles ward, where the Mauclair and Giraud-Carrier families became good friends, and a young Christophe met an even younger Isabelle. That childhood friendship grew into dating, courtship, engagement, and marriage. After some time in the same ward and stake, the families moved apart, but Christophe’s and Isabelle’s developing romance continued to grow as they courted by regular letters, occasional phone calls and quarterly in-person connections.
In July 1986 Christophe commenced full-time missionary service in the Canada Montreal Mission. While he was in Canada, Isabelle’s father was her district president in Cholet, France. Her father called her as a district missionary, fulfilling a promise in her patriarchal blessing. She arranged her work schedule to work three days a week and all evenings with the full-time missionaries. During her service, she became a key part of bringing about 20 new converts into the Church.
Just weeks after Christophe returned from the Canada Montreal Mission, the two, who had met as children 10 years before, became husband and wife on July 16, 1988 in Cholet, France. Three days later, at the Bern Switzerland Temple, they became a forever union. Christophe was 22 and Isabelle was 21.
Shortly after their marriage, Christophe was drafted into the French military. He served in the air force for one year. After his military service, Christophe transferred two years of college credit to Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. There he earned a bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree, and a PhD in computer science.
After earning his PhD, the family moved to Bristol, England, where Christophe worked as a computer science professor for six years. He left academia for a time to accept a manager position at ELCA Informatique in Lausanne, Switzerland. In Switzerland, they were just two hours from family for the first time in nearly 13 years. They loved living in Switzerland.
BYU had regularly asked Dr. Giraud-Carrier if he would consider accepting a professorship at the Provo campus. The answer was always no. When the Giraud-Carriers traveled to Utah in 2004, the Computer Science department chair asked them again, “What would make you stay in Utah?” Both Christophe and Isabelle had a strong impression that they should accept a professorship at BYU. They said yes and moved resolutely forward with the direction the Lord was revealing to them.
The Giraud-Carriers have eight children, four sons and four daughters. Four of the children were born after they left Provo. Today, six of their children are married. And they are grandparents to 18 beautiful grandchildren.
Throughout their lives, they have accepted and magnified each of their Church callings. Elder Giraud-Carrier has served as a bishop, ward and stake Young Men president, stake mission president, high councilor, stake president, and mission president. Sister Giraud-Carrier has been the president of her ward Primary, Young Women, and Relief Society, and served as Primary teacher, district missionary, mission leader, and an exceptional ministering sister. Of her, Elder Patrick Kearon has said: “If I had to cross the plains, I would want to be in her wagon.”

Truman studied architectural design and innovations in building. The constant pressure of being the Church’s architect was strain on his health, so Brigham Young called him to serve a mission in Europe. There he was not only to preach to the people, but also to visit the great buildings and study the architectural styles. He had been on his mission for thirteen months when he was called to return to help with the Salt Lake Temple.

Work on the temple did not progress very rapidly at first. There were several delays, such as the time United States President James Buchanan sent federal troops to Utah with a new governor to replace Brigham Young. The Saints, remembering the mob violence of the East, were not going to allow their new homes and lands to be plundered again. They stripped their homes of valuables and filled them with straw to be set afire if and when hostile troops came. Even the foundation of the temple was covered with dirt, making it appear to be only a plowed field. Fortunately, a peaceful settlement was reached before the troops arrived in Salt Lake.

As the building of the temple progressed, Truman sought the advice and counsel of President Young almost every step of the way. There were many details that had to be taken care of, and the work required Truman’s constant supervision. All his efforts were devoted to serving the Lord, despite constant poor health and personal heartaches.

Truman Angell did not live to see the completion of the beautiful Salt Lake Temple. It was dedicated in April 1893, and this year marks the 100th anniversary of that great event. This majestic structure stands as a monument to Brother Angell’s and other Saints’ dedication in building the Lord’s kingdom here on earth.

Within a few years after Sandra Edwards of Kingston, Tennessee, was baptized, she was divorced, lost her mother to a stroke, and then lost her son in a tragic automobile accident. During these crises, the members of her branch were her lifeline. They helped her move, tended her children, brought food to her home, and gave her encouragement, love, and help. “Never once was there a critical word,” she says. “Never once did I feel left out, ashamed, lonely, unwanted, or unappreciated.”

At age 54, before he was called as a General Authority, President Russell M. Nelson attended a meeting in which President Spencer W. Kimball challenged attendees to “be of service to the Chinese” and “learn their language.”
Although he was a busy heart surgeon at the time, President Nelson took this counsel to heart. He found a tutor to help him learn the Mandarin language.
It wasn’t long before President Nelson found himself sitting next to a distinguished Chinese surgeon, Dr. Wu Yingkai, at a medical convention. Because of his Chinese language studies, President Nelson was able to have a conversation with Dr. Wu. From there, the two doctors formed a lasting friendship and even visited each other’s countries.
President Nelson’s goal to learn Mandarin led to positive exchanges with China, as President Kimball had hoped for. After he was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, President Nelson even performed his last heart surgery on China’s most famous opera singer by special request.

Hard work brought the young couple a fine brick home and prospering meat business in Salt Lake, enabling them to pay for the immigration of Elizabeth’s family in 1867. But the next year the Woods gave up home and career to fill a difficult colonizing mission to Arizona. They returned destitute four years later and took up residence in a poor smelter dug in the side of a hill within sight of their former home.

William again left his prospering business and a growing family in 1880 to a mission to his home country. Near the end of that otherwise successful mission he reported:
“I preached the Gospel to my dear ones, my father, mother, brother, and sister, and although none of my own kindred have obeyed, they had to acknowledge they could not confute the doctrine, and they feel today that I am not what they judged me to be twenty-seven years ago. When a boy … All my dear relations have treated me with marked kindness, as they have any of the Elders that called upon them at the time. I know God will bless them for that.”
Six years after he returned from his mission, his beloved Elizabeth gave birth in her 42nd year to their 13th baby, but within days both mother and baby died. William later remarried, and he and his families went on to gain prominence in Canada where the Wood name became linked with extensive ranching and meat-packing interests. William’s son Edward J. served for many years as a stake president and temple president in Alberta.
The year before William died, he wrote his impressive life story, hoping his example as convert, sailor, pioneer, and missionary might teach young people in the Church that “should they have to leave the place where they have been taught the gospel … never to yield to any invitation that leads to intemperance or immorality. Always pray to the Lord, whether you are called by the servant of God to preach the Gospel or surrounded by the horrors of war—never forget to offer a silent prayer to your Eternal Father. He will not forget you.”

This story took place in Germany.
“Mathis! Emilian!” Mama called. “It’s time to light the candles on the wreath.”
Mathis put down his book and ran to the living room. His little brother, Emilian, followed him.
There were lots of things Mathis liked about Christmas. He liked to make lebkuchen cookies. He liked to decorate the tree. But his favorite part was lighting candles to get ready for Christmas.
They called this the Advent wreath. The wreath had four red candles that sat on green branches. In Germany, people lit the candles each Sunday in the month before Christmas Eve. The first week, they lit one candle. The next week, they lit two. The third, they lit three. And the Sunday before Christmas Eve, they lit all four.
Mathis watched Papa help Emilian light two candles. The bright flames looked cheerful.
“Mama, what does advent mean?” Mathis asked.
“Advent is the time before Christmas,” Mama said. “The candles help us count down the days. And so do our Advent calendars!”
Mama reached for the beautiful wooden house on top of the bookshelf. She put it on the table. Mathis got excited just seeing it.
They had two Advent calendars this year. They weren’t regular kinds of calendars. They were special kinds, just for Christmas! The first one was the little wooden house with 24 doors—one for each day before Christmas.
“It’s your turn to open a door!” Mama said.
Mathis grinned and opened the door for today. There were two small candies inside! He gave one to Emilian.
“You know,” Papa said, “advent also means the coming of someone or something important. Do you remember whose coming we celebrate on Christmas?”
“Jesus!” Mathis and Emilian said together.
Mama nodded. “People waited thousands of years for Jesus Christ to come. We celebrate His birth at Christmas. And someday, He will come to earth again.”
Mathis imagined what it would be like when Jesus came again. It made him feel warm inside.
“Open the other calendar, Mathis!” Emilian said.
“OK!” Mathis reached for the second calendar. Oma (Grandma) made it just for them. It was a hanger with 24 long ribbons hanging from it. Each ribbon had a folded piece of paper with a scripture about Jesus Christ tied to it. Every day before Christmas they got to read a new scripture about Jesus.
Mathis pulled the next paper off the ribbon. “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,” he read. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”*
Mathis felt peaceful as he and his family watched the candles glow. In two weeks, they would light all four candles, and the wait for Christmas would be over! But Mathis knew that Christmas wasn’t the only thing they were waiting for. They were waiting for Jesus Christ to come.
Illustrations by Violet Lemay

Nearly a century ago, a family from Oregon was vacationing in Indiana—over 2,000 miles (3,200 km) away—when they lost their beloved dog, Bobbie. The frantic family searched for the dog everywhere but to no avail. Bobbie could not be found.
Heartbroken, they made the trip home, each mile taking them farther away from their cherished pet.
Six months later, the family was stunned to find Bobbie on their doorstep in Oregon. “Mangy, scrawny, feet worn to the bone—[he] appeared to have walked the entire distance … by himself.”1 Bobbie’s story captured the imagination of people across the United States, and he became known as Bobbie the Wonder Dog.