Gospel Story Finder

As the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ is now being embraced around the world, we are all pioneers in our own sphere and circumstance. It was in the turmoil of post–World War II Germany when my family first learned about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. George Albert Smith (1870–1951) was the President then. I was only a young child, and we had lost all material belongings twice within only seven years. We were refugees with an uncertain future. However, during those same seven years, we gained more than any amount of money could ever buy. We found a supernal refuge, a place of defense from despair: the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and His Church, led by a true and living prophet.
The good news that Jesus Christ has made the perfect Atonement for mankind, redeeming all from the grave and rewarding each individual according to his or her works, was the healing power which brought hope and peace back into my life.
Whatever our challenges in life may be, our burdens may become light if we not only believe in Christ but also in His ability and His power to cleanse and console our lives. Our lives are healed as we accept His peace.
President David O. McKay (1873–1970) was the prophet during my teenage years. I seemed to know him personally. I could feel his love, kindness, and dignity; he gave me confidence and courage in my young life. Even though I grew up thousands of miles away in Europe, I felt he trusted me, and I did not want to disappoint him.
Another source of strength was a letter written by the Apostle Paul while he was in prison, addressed to Timothy, his most trusted assistant and friend. He wrote:
“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
“Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord” (2 Timothy 1:7–8).
These words from one of the ancient Apostles of our Savior rang with great importance for me in postwar times, even as they do today. Yet how many of us permit our fears to take control of our lives in this time of international tension, economic and political uncertainties, and personal challenges?
God is speaking to us in a consistent voice. God will deal with all the human family equally. We might be in a large ward or a small branch, our climate or vegetation may differ, the cultural background and language might vary, and the color of our skin could be totally different. But the universal power and blessings of the restored gospel are available to all, irrespective of culture, nationality, political system, tradition, language, economic environment, or education.
Today, we have again apostles, seers, and revelators who are watchmen on the tower, messengers of supernal, healing truth. God speaks to us through them. They are profoundly aware of the different circumstances we members are living in. They are in this world but not of this world. They point the way, and they offer help for our difficulties, not through the wisdom of this world but from an eternal Source.
Only a few years ago, in a First Presidency Message, President Thomas S. Monson said: “The problems of our day loom ominously before us. Surrounded by the sophistication of modern living, we look heavenward for that unfailing sense of direction, that we might chart and follow a wise and proper course. He whom we call our Heavenly Father will not leave our sincere petition unanswered.”
We have a living prophet on the face of the earth again, even President Thomas S. Monson. He knows our challenges and fears. He has inspired answers. There is no need to fear. We can have peace in our hearts and peace in our homes. We can each be an influence for good in this world by following the commandments of God and relying on true repentance, the power of the Atonement, and the miracle of forgiveness.
The prophets speak to us in the name of the Lord and in divine plainness. As the Book of Mormon confirms, “For the Lord God giveth light unto the understanding; for he speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding” (2 Nephi 31:3).
It is our responsibility not only to listen but also to act upon His word that we may claim the blessings of the ordinances and covenants of the restored gospel. He said, “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise” (D&C 82:10).
There may be times when we feel overwhelmed, hurt, or on the edge of discouragement as we are trying so hard to be perfect members of the Church. Be assured, there is balm in Gilead. Let us listen to the prophets of our day as they help us to focus on the things that are central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. The Lord knows us, He loves us, He wants us to succeed, and He encourages us by saying: “And see that all … things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that [men or women] should run faster than [they have] strength. … [But] it is expedient that [they] should be diligent” (Mosiah 4:27).
Are we diligent in living the commandments of God, without running beyond our strength? Or are we just leisurely strolling along? Are we using our time, talents, and means wisely? Are we focused on the things which matter most? Are we following the inspired counsel of the prophets?
One example of great importance for humanity is strengthening our own families. The principle of family home evening was given to us in 1915. President McKay reminded parents again in 1964 that “no other success can compensate for failure in the home.” In 1995 the prophets of our day called upon all the world to strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society. And in 1999 the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles lovingly stated: “We counsel parents and children to give highest priority to family prayer, family home evening, gospel study and instruction, and wholesome family activities. However worthy and appropriate other demands or activities may be, they must not be permitted to displace the divinely appointed duties that only parents and families can adequately perform.”
Let us in humility and faith refresh our dedication and our commitment to follow the prophets, seers, and revelators in all diligence. Let us listen and be instructed and edified by those who hold all the keys of the kingdom. And as we listen and follow them, may our hearts be changed that there will be a great desire to do good (see Alma 19:33). Thus we will be pioneers in building a spiritual foundation that will establish the Church in every part of the world, that the gospel of Jesus Christ may become a blessing for each child of God and unite and strengthen our families.

When I was about 13 years old, I lived with my grandmother. One day I found some abandoned magazines and began to read them. They contained stories from people all over the world, telling of miracles that had happened in their lives. These magazines were the Liahona; my aunt, who was a member of the Church, had left the magazines in my grandmother’s house.
The stories captivated me, and I felt something special telling me they were true. A year later I was baptized, and since then I have had my own subscription. The magazine has been a guide and a blessing. To me it is proof that God loves us and continues to reveal His secrets unto His servants the prophets (see Amos 3:7).
Lucilino Mendonça, Cape Verde

A few weeks ago, Ruby and I were up in Oakley, Idaho, for a couple of days, restoring our old family home. I had a phone call from Lenore Romney in Detroit, Michigan. Lenore is the wife of George Romney. She said, “George died this morning.” She wanted to know if I could arrange to attend the funeral. I told her I would be honored to come but that I would need to arrange it with those who are my superiors in the Church.
After I hung up the phone, I walked up the street from our old family home. I walked across the canal over to the area where the Romneys used to live. George’s father’s name was Gaskell Romney. My father was their bishop. I looked at the area. The house wasn’t there anymore. Then I walked along the old irrigation canal bank. I looked at the area where my father baptized me. I looked at where George and I used to swim. Swimming suits in those days were a pair of bib overalls, not the high-fashioned kind you see today but the real denim, old-fashioned bib overalls. We cut the legs off and cut the pockets out so we wouldn’t drown. That’s all we had for swimming suits. We used to sit on the canal bank in a little bit of sunshine and shiver because it was so cold. But swimming was our main recreation. George and I were about the same age. He was my friend. He was my pal.
As I walked along the canal bank, thinking about George, I thought of a poem by Rosemary and Stephen Vincent Benét that they had written about Nancy Hanks, the mother of Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln was only seven when Nancy Hanks died, and they loved each other very much. But in that tender poem, the Benéts reflected that if Nancy Hanks came back today, she might ask, Whatever happened to my boy, Abe? Did he get to town? Did he learn to read? Did he ever amount to anything? (See “Nancy Hanks,” in Edwin Markham, comp., The Book of American Poetry [New York: Wm. H. Wise and Co., 1936], pp. 791–92).
George’s mother had died while he was a teenager. She didn’t get to see what he became. At the funeral, I was honored to be there with the governor of the state of Michigan—a state of some nine million people, where George had been elected governor three times. The governor said George Romney was a great man who never allowed service to man to obscure service to God. The Detroit News said George Romney used his religion as a compass to chart his public life.

Once in high school, Robert’s pitching slump caused the team to lose three games in a row, one to nothing. The headline in the school paper said “Hard Luck Hales Loses Again.” He took his uniform and went to tell his coach he was going to quit. When he got to the coach’s office, his coach said, “Do you know why you’re losing? Your pitching arm is tired at the end of the game because before the game, when you’re supposed to be warming up, you’re out there impressing everybody with your fastball and curveball. You probably pitch two or three innings doing that. Quit showing off, and you won’t wear out your arm.” Robert listened, and the next game he pitched a shutout. “That’s why you love a coach who will tell you what you need to hear,” says Elder Hales. “If you listen to your coach, you can avoid repeating your mistakes and have a better opportunity to achieve your goals. The Lord is like that, too. I don’t get tired of the chastening of the Lord or the Lord’s anointed.”

Brigham’s family never had much money. Even shoes were considered a luxury. One day, by some fortunate circumstance, he became the possessor of a pair of shoes. Brigham was used to being barefoot, so the shoes were saved for special occasions. When he went to church, he carried them until he was near the place of gathering. He put them on during the meeting and took them off as soon as it was over.

Brigham Young’s formal schooling consisted of eleven days of instruction under a traveling schoolmaster. However, his mother taught him to read, and he was a natural student and a keen observer of events and of the world around him. When Brigham was fourteen years old, his mother, Nabby Howe Young, died of tuberculosis. Brigham then hired himself out as an apprentice to learn the trade of a carpenter, cabinet maker, painter and glass worker—skills that were to come in handy in his later years when he would build cities.

I began my college studies at a university about 100 miles (160 km) from home. It was an exciting time for all the freshman students. Many were living away from home for the first time and were eager to express their newfound freedom from parental oversight.
I was on the university basketball team, and it quickly became known that I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. During the first weeks of the semester, one of my teammates invited me to a Saturday night party for new students to be held in the desert outside the city. I asked if the party would include alcohol and was assured that it would not. I felt uncomfortable with this response but decided to attend nonetheless. A blind date was arranged for me with the assurance that she had the same standards I had. My teammate explained that we would use his car.
That Saturday night we drove some distance into the desert and found the party. To my great disappointment, drinking alcohol was the principal activity, notwithstanding the fact that the legal drinking age in the state was three years above the age of most of the freshman students. My date couldn’t wait to begin drinking, along with my teammate and his date. When I voiced disappointment, they said I needed to “grow up and live a little” and that they would help me. I told them that I had never drunk alcohol and that I was not going to start then. They soon left me so they could join the others.
I sat alone, apart from the drinking and boisterous laughter, without transportation to leave, wondering why I had gotten myself into this mess. Later in the night, I saw a line of car headlights coming through the desert toward the party. The cars encircled the group, and then, as if on signal, lights began flashing on the top of what I then recognized as police cars. Many students attempted to run into the desert but were quickly apprehended. I remained where I was, perplexed by the developments.
The police began checking identification to determine the ages of the students, giving breath tests to those below the legal drinking age to determine if they had been drinking. When they came to me, I told an officer that I had not drunk alcohol that night or ever. He laughed at me, but when I firmly stated that he could believe me, his countenance changed. He told me that I did not have to take the test and directed me to drive my teammate’s car back to the university. Those who were underage and drinking were cited and required to pay fines. Some were taken to jail.
I, however, left with no police record and arrived home at about 3:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Priesthood meeting in my ward began at 7:00 a.m. My alarm sounded at 6:45 a.m. I turned it off and rolled over, thinking for a few moments of all the reasons not to attend that morning. But spiritually, I couldn’t rest. I arose, dressed in my Sunday clothes, and walked to the chapel, arriving about 10 minutes after the meeting had begun.
As I walked into the chapel, my heart leaped as I recognized the back of my father’s head. He had come to visit me, unannounced. I slipped in beside him and sat down. He looked at me and smiled. Then, putting his hand firmly on my knee, he leaned over and whispered a message with meaning far beyond words: “I knew I would find you here, Son.” Simultaneously, Heavenly Father whispered the same message to my soul. I can’t adequately describe the love and joy I felt at that moment.
A few months later I was on my mission. A few months after that, I received word that my father had died unexpectedly. The message I received from him and through him that Sunday, however, has never left me.
When my teammate misrepresented the party’s activities, I felt a spiritual unrest that I did not heed. When confronted with that reality, I was more disappointed with myself than with my teammate. But keeping myself apart from the crowd brought spiritual comfort and later temporal benefit when the police allowed me to return home.
However, the greatest blessing of liberty came when, in the privacy of my dormitory room early Sunday morning, I chose to be where I should be, not knowing beforehand the treasure that awaited me there. Such experiences, accompanied by the ministration of the Spirit, foreshadow the liberty associated with the blessing of eternal life.

Sigifredo Verano probably didn’t seem like a very good contact when the missionaries first met him in California. He wore long hair and a beard, in the style of some of the rebels of the early 1970s. He worked full-time supporting his family, then studied for several more hours each day trying to educate himself for better employment. That left little time to listen to missionaries.
Most of his friends at work were atheists or agnostics, and Sigifredo himself hadn’t attended any church regularly for nearly twenty years.
When the missionaries first met his wife, Ana Lucia, she told them that they were welcome to come talk with him—if they could find him with time available. After several brief visits, he finally said, “Yes, go ahead and teach me. Let’s get it over with!”
It is a tribute to the love and dedication of several missionaries, and to the faith of the Verano children, that Sig and Ana Verano finally came into the Church. But it is their own diligent obedience that has helped build their strong testimonies.
Sig Verano had emigrated from his native Colombia, South America, to California, in 1963. Ana, the girl he was growing to love, was temporarily left behind while he began preparing to support himself, and possibly a family, in his new country.
He had received only three years of formal schooling in Colombia and spoke little English. In Los Angeles, California, his first job was making hats at the minimum legal wage, so he studied newspaper advertisements looking for something that would pay more. He spotted a training course for a “machinist.” The pay looked good, and in South America, a maquinista—train engineer—had regular employment, so he enrolled.
Sig did well in the course, but inquired after some time when they were going to get to the “big machines.” Be patient, he was told—that would come after the training. Toward the end of the training, he still had not seen a train engine. One day, he asked a co-worker how much they would travel in their future jobs. “What does travel have to do with this work?” the co-worker replied. After some confusing discussion, Sig finally asked, exasperated, “Will you please tell me exactly what we are learning?”
But Sig’s new job as a machinist was enough to provide the support he and Ana would need. They had continued their courtship by mail and were married by proxy in 1964. She emigrated to the United States in 1965. Edison, the first of their children, was born in 1966, followed by Julie in 1968 and Marbell in 1972.
Sigifredo was constantly studying to better himself educationally and economically. “He would finish one course and start another,” Ana says. He became a skilled automotive mechanic who was much in demand.
Though Sig had never denied the existence of God or committed grave sins, religion was not a significant part of his life. But he couldn’t accept the philosophies of his atheistic and agnostic friends. Once, Sig had pressed one of the agnostics with the question, “If you were to join any church, which one would it be?” The man answered, “I would become a Mormon,” and cited the goodness of the Latter-day Saints as his reason.
In fact, it was the good example of the only Latter-day Saint he had ever known—“an example of a good man”—that persuaded Sig Verano to listen to the Latter-day Saint missionaries for the first time. What they taught sounded like the truth to him. The Word of Wisdom made enough of an impression that the young mechanic gave up his cigarettes and liquor and began to pray on his own. Nevertheless, it wasn’t easy for him to go to church because he had long since broken the habit of attendance. Soon, he stopped listening to the missionary lessons.
But the Verano children enjoyed Primary, which then was held one afternoon a week. Sig or Ana would drive them to the chapel for the meeting. One afternoon, the car wouldn’t start. “Well, it isn’t my fault,” Sig told them. “I guess you won’t be able to go.”
Back in the house, six-year-old Edison wouldn’t give up. “Let’s pray,” he pleaded. So they knelt in prayer, then went back out to the car. To Sig Verano’s surprise, it started immediately.
After this experience, the Veranos attended Church meetings for a time, but quit after a few weeks. During this period there were several “coincidences” that helped to keep the Church in their thoughts. Sig’s mother-in-law, visiting from Colombia, spoke favorably of the clean-cut young American missionaries whose meetinghouse was near her home. An old friend from Colombia, now a sailor in the merchant marine, came for a visit. At dinnertime, he asked if he could say a blessing on the food—and Sig Verano recognized from his prayer that he was a Latter-day Saint. The friend, a convert who studied the scriptures ardently during his long voyages, bore his testimony to the Veranos, not knowing they had been investigating the Church.
Earlier, Sig Verano had told one pair of missionaries that they could come to visit as friends, but not as teachers. Before one of them went home at the end of his mission, he and his companion stopped by to visit and to invite the Veranos to meet his parents at a small farewell gathering hosted by friends. The Veranos were so impressed with the loving Latter-day Saints they met that they began taking the missionary lessons again.
But Ana Verano, faithful to the traditions of her forefathers’ church, became stubborn when she realized her husband was serious about joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She felt she didn’t need to be baptized again. So they reached an agreement: since the children liked the Church, he would take them there after his baptism. She would continue to go to her church.
But repeatedly during the week preceding Sig’s baptism, Ana dreamed of the Savior’s baptism by John in the River Jordan. She concluded that it was an indication, meant just for her, of the right thing to do.
Sigifredo and Ana were baptized in January of 1974. Their son Edison was baptized later that year, after his eighth birthday.
The Veranos’ struggles with faithfulness were not yet over, however, and neither was the loving work of others in fellowshipping them.
A fine home teacher, George Baker, helped keep them active in the Church, Brother Verano recalls. Unused to attending church meetings three times a day, beginning with priesthood at seven A.M., Brother Verano was ready to quit. The early meetings were difficult because he was working from midnight to six A.M. But Brother Baker, who could not go himself, arranged for someone to drive the Veranos to ward meetings, and kept them coming.
The Veranos’ spirituality grew as they faithfully attended meetings and obeyed gospel principles.
He was called as president of his stake’s Spanish-speaking branch, created in 1978, and was made bishop when, after five years, it became a ward.
The creation of that branch was a blessing also for Ana Verano. What little English she knew had made it difficult for her to participate in an English-speaking ward. In the Spanish-speaking branch, she could hold callings and grow in service as her husband had.
“My real testimony has come through working in the Church,” Brother Verano says. “Constant service is one of the things that strengthens one’s testimony.”
The first Spanish-speaking ward in their stake was divided shortly after its creation, and Sig was called to the high council. He now serves as stake executive secretary for the three Spanish-speaking wards in the Los Angeles California North Hollywood Stake. Ana serves in the stake’s English-language name extraction program.
Among the vocational courses Sig Verano completed in his wide-ranging studies was one in real estate sales. It led to a profitable new career—and to further strengthening of his testimony.
His sales career didn’t begin well. He was fired after only one week when the owner of the real estate agency learned the new salesman’s religion following Brother Verano’s refusal to work on Sunday.
“The gospel is so important in our lives that Sunday is empty if we can’t go to Church meetings,” he explains. But the owner of the real estate company said that the Mormons put too much time into Church service to be successful. Go work for a small agency where the owner will not care so much about sales success, he told Sig Verano.
Brother Verano took the dismissal as a challenge. He found a job with a larger agency, and, working only part-time in 1979, was its top salesman. He has consistently refused to work on Sundays; as branch president and bishop, he also devoted part of his Saturdays to Church service. Yet for several years he has been among the company’s top five salespeople.
In Church service, Brother Verano says humbly, he has gained knowledge that the Lord lives, that through him we can be redeemed, and that he has placed prophets on earth to help guide us. Those who only tentatively believe that the gospel is true can come to know of its truth with certainty as he has—by testing it in obedience and in service to others.
“When I was baptized into the Church,” he reflects, “I believed. But now I know.”

Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, to Richard and Lena Sonntag, Elder Philip T. Sonntag grew up in Liberty Stake. “Of course, I don’t remember my coming into the world,” Elder Sonntag says, “but as other people have related it to me, the circumstances were quite remarkable. After my mother had had five children, she didn’t know whether it would be wise to have any more, so she petitioned the Lord for an answer. Later at Relief Society one day, the stake patriarch spoke. As he talked, he said that he was impressed that a sister there needed a blessing, adding that if that sister would come to him after the meeting, he would give her a blessing. The patriarch told my mother in the blessing that the Lord was pleased that she desired to have more children and that in doing so she would not feel the pains of childbirth nor suffer any difficulties. She had me and six more children and never suffered the usual pains of childbirth.
I had great parents. They instilled in us a love for the gospel. Mother was usually there to meet us whenever we came home. If part of the family had already had family prayer when some other family members returned, she would say, ‘Come, let’s have evening prayers,’ and we would pray together.
“My father was born in Germany. Later he came to America, met my mother, and joined the Church. Before the Great Depression, he ran several cafes. However, he lost them during the Depression, and there was just no other work available. As I look back on it, I don’t know how he managed as well as he did, but we never missed a meal.”
As each Sonntag child became old enough to get a job, he worked to help maintain the family. Elder Sonntag used to sell hot dogs and popcorn at ball games; he also worked at the growers’ market early in the mornings. “When any of us children brought home a dollar of earnings, Mother would have that child set aside a dime for tithing and a dime to keep or spend. The rest went toward family expenses.”
In Elder Sonntag’s ward a group of twelve boys his age played ball together and were good friends. They were also energetic and drove many Sunday School and Primary teachers away. Elder Sonntag relates that “the teachers all loved us, but they didn’t want to teach us. One, however, Sean Christensen, knew how to get through to us by teaching us a game that used our hands and kept us from hitting each other. Meanwhile, he would bear his testimony that God lives and that Jesus is the Christ.
“This teacher challenged us to go on missions. It meant a great deal to him to have ‘his boys’ be worthy to be missionaries, and Brother Christensen’s challenge greatly helped us to prepare.
“I had been taught to obey the Word of Wisdom, and I earnestly tried to obey it all my life. When I was married and a young bishop and the father of three children, my brother and I were involved in a serious car accident. I walked to get help for the other people in the accident, who were unconscious. By the time I got to the hospital myself, I’d lost a great deal of blood, and the doctors thought that I wouldn’t live. I asked the Lord to let me live to fulfill my responsibilities as husband, father, and bishop, and I heard a voice speaking, just as clearly as I might speak to you, say that because I had lived the Word of Wisdom all my life, I would ‘run and not be weary, and … walk and not faint’ [D&C 89:20] and that I would receive even more blessings. When my wife arrived at the hospital, someone suggested that she not go into my room because I looked so terrible. She asked, ‘Is he breathing?’ and went in anyway. She also received the same witness that I would live.”
Elder Sonntag wants the children of the Church to know that “it is a privilege to be a member of the Church and to live the commandments. The commandments are easy when you decide that you are going to keep them. The Word of Wisdom is not a hard thing—it is a blessing. It is within the power of each of you to determine what you want to be. There is no other you in the whole world. You are the only you; you are an individual. You alone can decide what you want to be and where you’re going to go. Choose the Lord’s way and live the gospel, for that will bring you the greatest happiness.”

These feelings bring a stake president to reach out, and miracles follow. A stake president from South America recounted an example of how this love moved him to seek after one who was lost:
“I had a strong impression that I needed to try to find a brother who had served many years before as my missionary companion. He was married and less active in the Church. His membership record was in a small unit 150 kilometers [93 miles] from the stake center. I traveled there and spoke with the branch president, who told me that my former missionary companion was living far out in the country. The president gave me directions to the small village. After a while the asphalt road turned into a dirt road. After many more kilometers, I realized I was lost. I stopped the car and was about to give up. It was a very hot day, and the car had no air conditioner. The dust from the road was difficult for my wife and children. I knelt on the road and asked for help from the Lord.
“Some hours later, we arrived in the small village and found my missionary companion. I invited him to come back. He became active in the Church and served in many leadership positions. His son served an honorable mission, and today my friend and former companion is a counselor in the bishopric.”

We can let the light within us show in many different ways. It may be as simple as a smile. I recently read the account of a man in the northwest United States who used to drive past a bus stop on his way to work. He began to notice a young girl among some children waiting for the school bus. Even when it was raining, she would smile and wave as he drove by. He said: “The young girl was tall and slim and about 13 years old. She wore a mouthful of braces and I could see them glisten in the glare of my car lights.” Her effort to be friendly gave his day a good start and was something he looked forward to.

This man’s name was Hankins, and he had a daughter, Cheryl, who was about the same age as the girl at the bus stop. One day Cheryl asked her parents’ permission to attend an activity at a local church. A neighbor girl, Vicki, had invited her to attend. The activity was MIA, the forerunner to the Young Women program! Cheryl enjoyed MIA and after a while told her parents that Vicki was a Mormon. It wasn’t long before Cheryl came home from school and said that Vicki was sending two young men over—missionaries—to tell the family about her Church.

The elders arrived, taught them about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, and bore their testimonies of the Restoration of the gospel. As a family they began to read these new scriptures and were soon captivated by them. Mr. Hankins finally met Vicki. She was the smiling girl he had seen so many times at the bus stop. She was present when he and two other members of his family were baptized.

Looking back on Vicki’s actions and those of other young people, Brother and Sister Hankins became convinced that “the greatest potential for missionary work lies in the youth of the Church.” Brother and Sister Hankins have since served as missionaries themselves. They relied upon the referrals and good example that the youth supplied. Vicki—the girl at the bus stop who smiled every day, even when it was raining—changed their lives forever.

A modern example of the “coin in the fish” happened while Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball travelled by stagecoach through Indiana and Ohio on their way to missions in England. They began their journey with $13.50 and did not expect to be able to travel far with the stagecoach, but at every stopping place, when Brigham Young went to his trunk, he miraculously found the money needed to pay their fare to the next stopping place.4 On arrival, they had paid out over $87. As recorded in a First Presidency journal of 1860: “[Brigham Young] had gone to his trunk, and to his great surprise had found some [money] there, and to this day he did [not] know [how] it came there except by some unseen agent from the Heavenly world to forward the Promulgation of the Gospel.”5

Now, to my grandson for a moment: Darren, I remember a few weeks ago when we visited your ward sacrament meeting in Arizona. I was seated on the stand and you were assigned to pass the sacrament to those seated there. You passed the bread and the water to me in remembrance of the Savior. In your office as an Aaronic Priesthood bearer, you actually helped me rededicate my life to keeping the commandments of God. Even though I am your grandfather and a Melchizedek Priesthood holder, you used your authority to help me renew my covenants. I was thrilled with that experience we shared together. As I saw the reserved smile on your face I sort of thought you had figured it to be pretty neat too. Did you know that I’ve passed the sacrament during sacred times to the Presidency of the Church, as well as to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and the other General Authorities? Isn’t it terrific that you and I use this same priesthood authority to help each other make these covenants with the Lord?

I learned an important lesson about Heavenly Father and prayer when I was nine years old. I loved horses. Sometimes my friends let me ride their horses, and together we’d ride bareback through the orange groves. But I longed for a horse of my own.

That year, a new store opened in a neighboring town. As part of the opening festivities, they had a drawing for a pony. I entered the drawing, and each day I prayed that I would win. Heavenly Father had always answered my prayers, and I was sure that He would answer this one. I made arrangements for the pony to live in a friend’s corral. I even wrote to my grandparents and told them about the pony that would soon be mine.

When the drawing was held and the winner announced, it wasn’t me. I was very disappointed and sad. Lovingly my mother said, “It isn’t that Heavenly Father didn’t hear and answer your prayers, but that He knew what was best for you. Remember, dear, that when you pray, He will answer what is best for you.” Heavenly Father does know what is best for us. He loves each of us, and He hears and answers our prayers.

Mom and Dad have called Hannah and her siblings for a family meeting.
Our Church leaders have asked us to prepare for emergencies. But we don’t have much extra money. We’ll have to make a sacrifice.
We’re giving up cereal for one month. We’ll use the money to buy supplies. OK?
What will we eat for breakfast?
Oatmeal! We have lots in our food storage.
Oatmeal? Blegh!
The next morning
Try mixing something in. I like raisins in mine.
*sigh* OK …
Day 1: Raisins
Gross!
Day 2: Banana
Yuck!
Day 3: Coconut
Ew!
Day 4: Berries
Nope!
Try this. It has apples, cinnamon, and brown sugar. It tastes like apple pie!
Mmm, that’s good! I’m having this tomorrow too.
I bought first aid supplies for our emergency kits yesterday. Thanks for being good sports. I know giving up your favorite cereal was a sacrifice.
I guess all this gloppy oatmeal was worth it.
Besides, it’s not so bad after all!

BARBARA: I have a friend I am really close to at school. We were both trying out for something. We worked together, and helped each other, and we even prayed for each other. Then talking with her the other day, I found out she isn’t a member of our church. She is a Buddhist! I was so surprised! The whole time I had been treating her like a Mormon. We had become really close; she came up to me one day, started crying, and told me how much she appreciated me. And I thought, if we could only treat everyone as if he were a member, then we’d have no problems.

I was at the lowest point in my life. My wife had asked for a divorce after leaving me for another man. I was 30 years old and living with my mother. I was also close to losing my job.
The senior editor of the newspaper where I worked warned me, “If you come to work intoxicated again, you will be immediately dismissed.” On my way home, I wondered how I could stop drinking.
Just then, two missionaries stopped and talked to me about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I told them I was not interested. But being a journalist, I felt compelled to give them my card.
Several days later, my mother told me that two Americans were there to see me.
“They have one of your cards,” she said.
They were the same missionaries from a few days before. One of them handed me a pamphlet and talked about the Prophet Joseph Smith. Then his companion handed me a Book of Mormon. He asked if I would read several chapters from it. When I agreed to do so, he looked at me closely and asked if I would read 150 pages.
“Impossible!” I said.
“Well, we’ll come back on Thursday,” he said. That was several days away. I didn’t think I could read those pages in that time.
After work the next day, I felt a strong urge to find my friends and go drinking. Then I remembered the senior editor’s warning and the 150 pages I had been asked to read. I went home and began reading the Book of Mormon. I also read the pamphlet about Joseph Smith.
The Spirit touched my heart as I read about Joseph Smith. I also felt the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon as I read and learned more about the Savior. Soon I had read 150 pages. On Thursday, the missionaries returned and asked if I had read.
“Yes!” I said. “All 150 pages!”
I wanted to know more. When they taught me about the Word of Wisdom, I told them I was ready to give up alcohol.
The next Sunday, I went to my first fast and testimony meeting. I shared my newfound testimony of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. A short time later, I was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church.
In the 48 years since my baptism, I have tried to keep the commandments and stay close to the Church. I remarried and served a mission with my wife. Over the years, I accepted many callings. I now serve in the temple. Every time I’m there, I thank the Lord for pulling me from the darkness and bringing me into the light.

Just after the bell rang, Marcus noticed a new boy standing at the front of the room by the teacher.
“Good morning, everyone,” Mrs. Becker said as everyone quieted down. “This is Halim. He is new to our school. In fact, he is new to our country.”
Halim kept looking at the floor as he said hello. Marcus thought his voice sounded kind of different. Mrs. Becker kept talking.
“We are so glad he is here and that he is going to be part of our class. I hope we can all say hello and help him feel welcome.”
As Mrs. Becker showed Halim where to sit, Marcus thought about how nervous he would feel if he had to move to a new country and a new school.
After their morning snack, Mrs. Becker said she had a surprise for the class. Marcus sat up really straight so he could see what she was pulling out of her bag. They were small buckets. She started passing them out to everyone.
“Each of us has an imaginary bucket inside of us,” she said as she handed Marcus a yellow bucket. “People fill our buckets when they do nice things for us. And we fill others’ buckets when we’re nice to them. For example, when your mom gives you a hug, she is filling your bucket. When you say something nice to someone, you are filling their bucket.”
Marcus looked at his best friend, Caleb. He got a yellow bucket too!
“This week, we’ll keep these buckets on our desks so we can write nice notes for each other,” Mrs. Becker said. She folded up a little piece of paper and dropped it in a bucket. “And that will help us remember the imaginary buckets everyone has inside. We want to be kind so that we are bucket fillers.”
Marcus pulled out a piece of paper and thought of the things he could write to Caleb, like that he was good at sports. Then he looked at Halim. His shoulders were kind of bent over, like he was sad.
Marcus wondered if Halim had a best friend where he used to live. It must have been hard to say goodbye and scary to move so far away.
Marcus looked down at the blank piece of paper on his desk. He had an idea, then he wrote:
“Hi, Halim,“
Welcome to our school. If you want, we can play at recess. I will be your friend. I bet Caleb will be your friend too.
“From, Marcus.”
Then he carefully folded the paper up and dropped it in Halim’s bucket. Halim smiled. Marcus felt warm and happy inside. He was glad he could fill Halim’s bucket!

Young Louisa tugged open the heavy door of the huge brick oven. She peered into the darkness, then jumped back in horror. Someone was crouching inside and staring back at her. Quickly her mother came to Louisa’s side and explained that it was a runaway slave that she had hidden in the oven until he could escape to freedom. Louisa understood and knew that she should tell no one about the black man whom she’d discovered. She was accustomed to having people seek help from her parents. Louisa never forgot her parents’ example of concern for others.

I wandered through the crowd at my California high school. I’d just finished taking my geometry final, and I was trying to clear my head of angles and parallelograms to get ready for the Spanish final that was coming up next. My overtaxed brain was just starting to conjugate a particularly tough verb when three students I didn’t recognize walked up beside me.
“If you’re going to be a Mormon, why not be a good one?” one girl spat out.
“What?” I answered timidly.
“We saw you at the dance on Friday!” the girl retorted.
I quickly scanned my memory trying to figure out what I had done to convince them I wasn’t a good Mormon. I had been at the school dance last Friday. I had worn a dress that was stylish but modest. I was with a group of friends, and we had danced and had a nice time and gone home.
“So?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Mormons don’t dance!” another student accused.
I had to chuckle as my mind’s eye surveyed my bedroom at home. At that very moment my bed was piled high with yards and yards of pink taffeta fabric. I was in the midst of sewing my ball gown for a dance festival in Salt Lake City. Ten thousand youth from all over the country would be gathering for the event. Of course Mormons dance!
I happily told them of the event and also told them about the great stake dances that were held every month at the church with up-to-date music, and no smoking, alcohol, or drugs to interfere with the fun. I even told them how Brigham Young instructed the pioneers to pull out their fiddles and organize dances from time to time when the wagons were pulled into a circle at night while crossing the plains. I told them that members of the Church like to enjoy life and that dancing can be a natural part of that.
Three stunned accusers now stood with their mouths open. I invited them to the next stake dance and told them how to get there. One pulled out his notebook and took down directions.
The anger on their faces had been replaced by understanding smiles. As they walked away, my mind went back to my seminary lesson from that morning. It was from Matthew 5:16—“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” Wow, it was true! I realized that for good or bad, I am an example to the world around me of what members of the Church say and do. My experience proved that people were watching me and judging the Church by my actions. Before I headed to my Spanish final, I said a silent prayer of thanks to Heavenly Father for His help in that discussion and asked for the strength and conviction to always be a good representative of His Church.

“In my darkest moments I was always guided to the words of hope and descriptions of a life filled with joy in my patriarchal blessing,” one member wrote. “Often I would plead with God to help me believe that those blessings could really come true for someone as pathetic as I felt I was. I literally clung to the blessings promised, hoping that I could be happy someday. My testimony grew as I saw the Lord fulfilling promised blessings in my life.”