Gospel Story Finder

The ancient ministry of Christ faced betrayal from within, and it was so also in the early days of this modern dispensation. A revealing conversation once occurred between Joseph Smith and a brother named Isaac Behunnin. He had seen men involved in the quorums and in the high spiritual experiences of the kingdom who had subsequently become disaffected, and it was a mystery to him why they had then devoted their zeal and energy to attacking the Church. He said to the Prophet: “If I should leave this Church I would not do as those men have done. I would go to some remote place where Mormonism had never been heard of, settle down, and no one would ever learn that I knew anything about it.” The Prophet immediately responded: “Brother Behunnin, you don’t know what you would do. No doubt these men once thought as you do. Before you joined this Church you stood on neutral ground. When the gospel was preached, good and evil were set before you. You could choose either or neither. There were two opposite masters inviting you to serve them. When you joined this Church you enlisted to serve God. When you did that you left the neutral ground, and you never can get back on to it. Should you forsake the Master you enlisted to serve it will be by the instigation of the evil one, and you will follow his dictation and be his servant.” Happily, Brother Behunnin was faithful to his death.

The first two names that appear on the fourth company of the Nauvoo Temple register for that very day, February 3, 1846, are John and Jane Akerley, who received their endowments in the Nauvoo Temple that evening. They were humble, new converts to the Church, without wealth or position. Their temple work was their final concern as they were leaving their home in Nauvoo to come west. It was fortunate that President Young granted the wish of the Saints to receive their temple blessings because John Akerley died at Winter Quarters, Nebraska. He, along with over 4,000 others, never made it to the valleys of the Rocky Mountains. William Clayton’s classic Mormon hymn “Come, Come, Ye Saints” captures well their faith: “And should we die before our journey’s through, happy day! All is well!”
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John and Jane Akerley and the others of the multitude who waited in the bitter cold to enter the majestic Nauvoo Temple received within its walls the greatest blessings offered by the Lord in this life. They endured much, but their suffering was just beginning. Their temple blessings helped strengthen them for what lay ahead. Separated by death in Winter Quarters, they were able to endure all things because of their faith and the blessings received that cold February night in 1846.

Sissy was crying again. She didn’t want to cry, but the warm, wet tears kept sliding down her cheeks. Ever since Pa had died last winter, she found herself crying almost every time she was alone.
Today she had run home from the little pioneer church and climbed into the hayloft. It was the Sunday before Easter, and her Primary lesson had been about the Resurrection. Sister Nelson had reminded the class that when people we love die, we can be comforted knowing that they will live again and that we can be with them at some future time. Sissy knew that Sister Nelson was speaking especially to her and was trying to be kind, but her teacher just didn’t understand! What good is it to think about resurrection when I need Pa right now? she thought.
Sissy had been very close to her father. Pa had always said that she was special. He called her his “own little angel right from heaven.” The tears rolled down her cheeks, and she cried, “Oh, Pa, why did you have to die? How can I ever be happy again?”
Her thoughts were interrupted by her brother Joe’s husky voice calling her from the barn door. “Sissy! Sissy, are you in here?”
“I’m coming, Joe,” Sissy said slowly as she dried her tears and began to climb down.
Joe stood at the bottom of the ladder; he lifted her off the rungs, swung her around, and gently set her down. “What’s the matter, Sis?” he asked as he bent his tall frame over and looked into her reddened eyes. “Has it been raining in the hayloft again?”
Sissy gave him a little smile and held his hand as they left the barn. She loved Joe. He was kind and gentle, like Pa, and Sissy knew he understood her sorrow and loneliness. She wondered if he still missed Pa too. She hadn’t thought about that before. Joe always seemed so strong and sure of everything.
“Joe,” Sissy said, stopping suddenly, “what do you do when you feel sad and lonely without Pa around?”
Joe walked slowly over to a tree and sat down. Sissy sat down beside him. He was quiet for a moment and seemed to be studying the daffodils that Pa and Sissy had planted last spring. Then he looked up into Sissy’s eyes and spoke softly. “Missing Pa is natural and will probably last all our lives, Sissy. But when I’m sad, I try to get busy doing something that I know would make Pa happy. You see, I know that someday I’m going to see Pa again, and I want to be the kind of man he always wanted me to grow up to be. Somehow that seems to take my mind off my sad thoughts and put it on the happy thoughts of how proud I can make Pa when I see him again.”
Sissy thought about Joe’s words as he got up and headed toward the woodpile. She knew that Pa would be sad to think that the only thing she did when she thought of him was cry. Maybe if she tried Joe’s plan, it would work for her too. She wrinkled her forehead as she tried to think of something to do that would make Pa happy and proud of her.
In a minute Sissy was on her feet, running to catch up with her brother. “Joe,” she asked, filling her arms with kindling, “do you think we could take some daffodils over to Sister Harding this afternoon? I noticed she wasn’t at church today, so maybe she would like a little visit. We could take over some of those good molasses cookies too!”
Joe gave her a quick smile and a gentle squeeze and nodded his head. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” he said.
Later, as Sissy gathered the flowers, she found herself thinking about Pa and smiling for the first time in a long while. She could almost see Pa smiling too!

“I’ve wanted to fly airplanes for as long as I can remember,” 17-year-old Lamar F. says. When a friend from his wheelchair racing days told him about a British charity that helps people with disabilities learn to fly, Lamar was eager to try.
He signed up for two of the charity’s programs. One of them, the Junior Aspiring Pilots Program (JAPP), was created especially for youth between the ages of 12 and 18. These programs and other solo lessons are all propelling him one step closer to his big goal—getting his Private Pilot License.
Part of his inspiration comes from his family. Lamar’s foster dad was the first person to get him hooked on flight, taking him to airshows every year. Later, after he was adopted by another family at age four, Lamar’s interest in aviation continued to thrive as he watched his adoptive father pursue a pilot’s license. “He’s my inspiration for wanting to be a pilot,” Lamar says. Now Lamar’s dad can ride with him in the single-propeller, five-seater airplanes Lamar is learning to fly.
Lamar’s parents (pictured here on either side of him) are some of his biggest supports.

In my gym class, we had to run the mile every Monday. We called them “Mile Mondays.” Everyone dreaded them because they were exhausting. Each Monday, one classmate was always picked on because he was a little overweight and always finished the mile a few minutes after everyone else. I felt bad for him and wanted to help him out, but I wasn’t sure how.
One day I had an idea. After I finished running the mile, I went back and ran with him until he was done. I was a little nervous because I wasn’t sure what everyone would think, but I decided that what other people think shouldn’t matter that much. I was surprised when more people joined me the next week. Every week, more people joined until eventually everyone in the class joined in! As we ran, we encouraged him by saying things like, “You can do it!” and “Only one more lap!” He began to smile while running, and people didn’t pick on him anymore. Each week he finished the mile in less time, and we cheered him on every time he beat his personal best.
I’m glad we could boost his spirit and help him do his best. It really brought our class closer together, and we were all a little nicer to one another. This experience helped me remember that we are all God’s children and of great worth, and everyone needs to be treated that way. I’m glad I decided to run a little extra, and I know that Heavenly Father gave us all added strength to help His children feel loved.

I hadn’t driven down the Claytons’* long gravel driveway since I had graduated from high school almost 20 years before. Kerri Clayton and I had been best friends then. Now, knowing that we would both be in town to visit our families at Easter, we had arranged to get together at Kerri’s house.
As I walked to the door, I thought of the heavy burdens the Clayton family was bearing at this time. With three children, Kerri was going through a painful divorce. Her father had recently suffered a stroke, and her mother was struggling to care for her husband and meet the family’s financial obligations.
It’s too much pain for one family, I thought as I rang the doorbell.
Kerri opened the door and threw her arms around me. Though five years had passed since we’d seen each other, I immediately noticed the toll that my friend’s emotional traumas had taken on her. She was too thin, and I could sense desperation in her hug. In contrast with the smiling eyes of her girlhood portrait on the wall, my friend’s eyes were filled with pain.
Kerri’s mother came to greet me, and Kerri called her three beautiful children, two girls and a boy. I recognized their father’s features in each face and felt again the hurt and pain of the divorce. I wondered how the family would survive.
Kerri mentioned that her father was in an upstairs bedroom. I offered to go up to visit with him, but Kerri told me that he wanted to come down on his own. “It will take him some time, so let’s sit and visit,” she said.
We sat across from each other in the living room where we had often laughed together as schoolgirls. We did not laugh today. As Kerri told me about her struggles with finances and facing the future alone, I could only listen. She had so many questions, and I had no answers.
After a while, I heard a rustling on the stairs. I turned to watch Kerri’s father begin his shaky journey down. Grasping the handrail, he inched his feet forward on each stair. His wife stood beside him, but he refused her help. When he finally reached me, he grasped my hand and said, with effort, “So good to see you, Annette.”
After her parents went into the kitchen, Kerri asked, “Did you ever think life would be this hard? Did you ever think you’d be sitting here listening to my terrible divorce story and watching my dad suffer? Why do things like this happen?”
In the silence that followed, I could hear Kerri’s mother counting slowly in the kitchen as she exercised her husband’s arms and legs. Wondering what she felt as she cared for him, I began to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Kerri said. “Here you come home for Easter, and you get all this.”
“It’s okay,” I sniffled. “That’s what friends are for. I’m just trying to think of something to say that could give you some help, some hope.”
Just then, Kerri’s mother began to sing. Kerri and I stopped speaking and listened to her angelic voice coming from the kitchen. The hymn was perfect for that Easter weekend and perfect for that moment:
Christ the Lord is ris’n today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heav’ns, and earth reply, Alleluia!
(Hymns, 1985, number 200)
As she sang all the verses and her alleluias rang through the house, I thought about Christ’s suffering, his victory over death, and his resurrection. I felt light and hope replacing the day’s darkness and despair. I knew that this family was loved and watched over by the most tender of shepherds.
“You’re not alone,” I said gently to Kerri. “You are in Heavenly Father’s hands, and so is your father.”
“I know,” Kerri said. Our tears flowed freely as our hopes rose heavenward with the hymn.

Your great-grandfather Frederick Michael Wilhelm Meurs was born in Holland in 1926. He was one of 12 children. His mother was a devout Catholic who took her children to mass each Sunday. Fred attended Catholic schools and developed deep faith in Jesus Christ and a love for the scriptures.
Your great-grandmother Lois Ellen Meurs was also born in 1926 in Warrnambool. She had two brothers, Ralph and David, and was raised in a faithful Methodist home. She admired her parents’ charitable service and developed a strong Christian faith.
Fred and Lois were married in Warrnambool in January 1954. Julie was born later that year, and Peter (me) in December 1956.
In their early marriage, Fred and Lois wanted unity in their faith. They attended both the Catholic and Methodist churches and studied the New Testament together. As they read, they wrote down many questions—about the nature of the Godhead, resurrection, priesthood authority, the Church’s structure, and baptism by immersion.
They sought answers from local religious leaders, but most said those matters were “mysteries” or struggled to respond. Their search for truth led them to visit several Christian churches in Warrnambool. Still unsatisfied, they turned to God in prayer, asking Him to send them answers.
Eventually, a letter arrived from President Bingham. After prayerful consideration, he wrote, he had the strongest impression that there were people in Warrnambool ready to receive the restored Church. He encouraged them to go back to work and to visit places they had not been before.
The elders received the letter around the same time that Fred and Lois were praying for answers. A few days later, they knocked on the Meurs family’s front door at 68 Jamieson Street, Warrnambool. Lois answered, and the elders said they had a special message about Jesus Christ and His Church to share.
Lois replied, “We have been praying for you to come—but you can’t come in just now. Our children (two-year-old Julie and six-month-old Peter) have chickenpox, and they might infect you.” She asked them to return in a week.
Lois told Fred about the visit, and they continued to pray that the missionaries wouldn’t forget to come back. They didn’t know who they were dealing with!
Elder Jones and Elder Erickson returned the following week and began teaching Lois and Fred. As they taught, they answered every question on Fred and Lois’s long list. They explained the nature of God, priesthood authority, the Resurrection and life after death, the purpose of life, developing faith, and the ordinances of baptism and the sacrament.
Fred and Lois opened their scriptures—already marked from their earlier study—and found confirmation for everything the missionaries were teaching.
Lois and Fred were baptized and confirmed on 5 July 1957—just three weeks after meeting the missionaries. Soon other families joined the Church, and the new branch began holding meetings in the Meurs home on Jamieson Street.

As a young boy of about eleven years old my father came home from his job one day and reported that the company he had been working for over the past 13 years was about to close down. He would have to find new employment. There were some concerns and challenges which tested our family’s belief and faith. Because of his early induction into the army and World War II my father neither had not completed high school nor had he worked for any other company leaving his resume wanting. I remember my father calling our family together to discuss our situation and then leading us in fasting and prayer. It can be said that my brothers and sisters and I did not exercise faith at that time, but we acted in agreement and acceptance of what my parents were telling us and what they were doing. Within a day of our family fast and prayer a new and better position was offered to my father and my belief increased to a faith in the principles of fasting and prayer.

I was born and raised in a small city in Chile. When I was 12 years old, I saw the missionaries for the first time, and I was curious. Then one day a classmate at school told me that he and his family had become members of the Church. He invited me, and I attended all Sunday meetings and Tuesday activities for several months.

Our branch was new, and because I attended practically from the beginning, everyone thought I was a member. After six months I told one of the missionaries I was not, because I thought the missionaries were interested only in families.

The missionaries tried to involve my family, but my parents and siblings were not interested. They invited me to be baptized, but since I was 12, I needed my parents’ permission. I thought my father would say I needed to wait until I was 18, but he said, “I have seen my son wake up every Sunday morning while his brothers and sisters keep sleeping, dress up in his best clothes, and walk to the chapel. If my son will be responsible with this decision, you have my permission.” I couldn’t believe it. I was in heaven in that moment. So I was baptized the following day.

Three weeks ago I was sitting on a roof top of Jerusalem suburb Bet Safafa, overlooking some of the most fought-for real estate in the world.
From that rooftop you could see the home of ancient sites like the Dome of the Rock, the Wailing Wall and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher -- some of the holiest sites in the world to the three major monotheistic religions.
You could also see the 20-foot concrete security wall that the Israelis had built to separate themselves from the Palestinians and the restaurants and bus stops that Palestinian suicide bombers had attacked.
I was the guest of two cousins -- Samer and Ghassan Alayan -- volunteers at a program called PeacePlayers that tries to bring together Palestinians and Israelis and help them overcome stereotypes through the game of basketball.
At some point in the discussion, Ghassan's father ambled up the stairs and joined the conversation.
He looked at the PeacePlayer shirt his son wore with a furrowed brow. "This word peace," he said pointing to the shirt. "We [Palestinians] hate this word. Peace, peace, everyone always comes talking about peace. You know the problem with this word? Everyone talks about peace. No one does peace. We are tired of hearing a word that is not real."
Ghassan's father's comment -- that people only talk peace, they never do -- struck me hard.

When youth from one ward in Birmingham, England, needed to raise money in order to attend stake youth camps, they knew just what to do: it was time to roll up their sleeves and teach nunchaku lessons. And origami lessons. Oh, and some one-on-one rugby training sessions for good measure.
After leaders counseled with the bishop and obtained his approval, ward members pulled together to support the youth in their efforts by holding a ward auction for promised services. At the auction, people could bid on all manner of “I owe you”-type services. The youth donations included manicures, basketball lessons, shoe shining, gardening help, babysitting time, ukulele lessons, and more.
The adults pitched in as well. Their donations ranged from a personal tour of a prison by the prison governor to chauffeur services for a day and even to a tutorial from the bishop on how to buy and sell on eBay. In the end, the ward raised enough money for the youth to attend the camps, all while having fun and getting to know one another by serving in creative ways.

Andrea tells about a girl at school who asked about her weekend. She was amazed that Andrea and her sister, Heidi, did some shopping together and went to a movie. The girl asked, “Don’t you ever fight?”
Andrea answered, “No, not really. If we do, we get over it in two seconds.”
Andrea explained, “When people say that Mormons are really family oriented, we really are. That’s what makes us strong. To be a better sister, do stuff together.”

Happy music played as Jaechan and Mom got up from their seats in the school gym. Bunches of bright balloons floated along the walls as the other kids and their parents talked excitedly.
Tomorrow was the first day of school, and in South Korea new students always went to a special program to celebrate the start of school. As he listened to the songs and speakers, Jaechan felt excited. He couldn’t wait to start learning!
After the program, Mom and Jaechan walked down the school halls. When they got to his classroom, Jaechan met his teacher. She seemed really nice.
Later Mom and Jaechan walked outside into the warm spring sunshine. Even the sun and the sky seemed happy for school to start.
The next morning, Mom walked Jaechan to the school gate. She hugged him tight. “I love you,” she said. “Have a good first day.”
“I will,” Jaechan said. “I love you too!” He waved goodbye and turned to walk to his classroom, just like they had practiced.
As Jaechan walked down the hall, he started to worry. Is this the right way? Jaechan stopped and looked around. He turned and walked down a different hall. Soon everything felt all mixed up.
Jaechan took a deep breath. He knew he had been in this hallway yesterday. He kept walking and went through a big set of doors.
But Jaechan didn’t see his classroom, with desks and friends and his nice teacher. He saw the gym. And now there were no people or balloons. It was just a big empty room.
Tears filled Jaechan’s eyes. He tried not to panic, but he was scared. He didn’t know how to find his classroom. He knelt to pray. “Heavenly Father, I’m lost. Please help Mom to come find me and help me get to my class.”
Jaechan stood up. He took a few more deep breaths. Then he waited.
A few minutes later, Mom came around the corner. “Jaechan!” She ran to him and held him close. “What happened?”
Jaechan burst into tears. He was so relieved to see Mom. “I couldn’t find my classroom,” he said. “So I prayed that you would come find me.”
Mom wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I’m glad you said a prayer,” she said. “I was on my way home. Then I had a feeling that I should turn around and make sure you found your classroom. When you weren’t there, I looked all over. Then I found you!”
Jaechan held Mom’s hand as they walked down the right hallway. Jaechan had stopped crying. He knew Heavenly Father had answered his prayer, and everything was OK. When they got to the classroom, he heard the other kids inside laughing and having fun.
“Jaechan! We are so happy to see you,” Jaechan’s teacher said as he walked in.
“Thanks,” Jaechan said with a small bow. He gave Mom one more hug. It was going to be a good first day of school after all.

During his fifteenth year, Joseph F. Smith was ordained an elder, endowed, and sent to serve as a missionary in the Hawaiian Islands. There he experienced illness and discouragement far beyond that which is usual for a young man of his age. But with these experiences came an increased deepening of his soul and a broadening of his capacities as new spiritual insights were added in his life.
One such experience was a dream, significantly centering on a family experience. This dream occurred during a time in his mission when he was greatly depressed. “I was … entirely friendless. … I felt as if I was so debased in my condition of poverty, lack of intelligence and knowledge, just a boy, that I hardly dared look a … man in the face.”
In the dream, Joseph saw his uncle, the Prophet Joseph Smith; his father, Hyrum Smith; and his mother, Mary Fielding Smith. He was comforted, and his testimony of the Prophet and of the plan of salvation were strengthened: “When I awoke that morning I was a man, although only a boy. There was not anything in the world that I feared. … That vision, that manifestation and witness that I enjoyed at that time has made me what I am, if I am anything that is good, or clean, or upright before the Lord. That has helped me out of every trial and through every difficulty.”

Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter experienced such a discovery. He was struggling to define the concept that—in order to protect the innocent fully—courts of law should treat even the villainous fairly. He went to see Robert Bolt’s play A Man for All Seasons, about Sir Thomas More’s interactions with the selfish tyrant King Henry VIII. At the point where More’s character spoke the line “Yes, I’d give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety’s sake,”14 Justice Frankfurter blurted out, “That’s the point, . . . that’s it!”15

Laekin Vakalahi always knew that putting the Lord first in his life would shape his future. He has always loved playing sports, especially rugby and basketball.
As a young man he did not play sports on Sundays, as a rule, and he enjoyed going to church and youth activities, including seminary.
He had an opportunity to play rugby professionally but in 2021, he decided to serve a full-time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in the New Zealand Wellington Mission.
Laekin said, “I decided to put God first and serve a mission and then leave things in His hands.”
In 2023, Laekin’s parents and four brothers were on holiday in Hawaii when they met a scout from the Philadelphia Eagles National Football League team.
The scout was impressed with the stature and strength of the four brothers and asked if they had ever played American football.
The parents said, “No, but you really should see the size of our older son who is serving a mission in New Zealand. He is 6’ 5” (196 cms.) tall and weighs 320 (165 kgs.) pounds.”
The Eagles’ scout was so impressed with the stats and photos that he arranged with Laekin’s mission president to have Laekin do a workout in Wellington while the scout observed.
Always concerned about staying on task and following mission rules, Laekin became creative about getting all the scout’s assignments completed.
For example, he demonstrated his ability to lead by recording a class he taught in a zone conference. The Eagles were impressed with his honesty, character, and obedience in following the mission rules.
Following the completion of his mission, he worked closely with the scout on football fundamentals and had an official tryout with the team.
In April 2024, the Philadelphia Eagles signed Laekin to a three-year contract as an international developmental player.
Laekin said, “When you are playing at such a high level you could have a lot of pride or ego, but we need to remember that we are all equal in the eyes of God. Everyone needs to treat people the same, no matter who they are. Praying, reading my scriptures, and listening to Church music helps me to stay connected and grounded.”
Following his football career, Laekin hopes to get a university degree and a career in the film and video industry.

I was rebaptized a little over a year after my excommunication. What a relief it was to come up out of the water knowing that Jesus was now my advocate, my partner. He had paid for my sins, and I was again in a covenant relationship with Him. I was filled with gratitude!
I received the gift of the Holy Ghost again. I felt once again a tangible presence: my dear friend was back to stay! I wanted to try so hard not to offend Him again so that He wouldn’t have to leave me.

Graziely Moreira, 25, was pretty much raised to do good. When people in her hometown of Fortaleza, Ceará, Brazil, see someone in need, they help. “It’s a cultural thing,” she explains. And for members of the Church, “it’s also because we just think about, as Jesus Christ said, love others as you love yourself. So we just do it. We do it because we like doing it.”
With her quiet example of watching out for and going out of her way to help those in need—like when she saw an old man struggling to carry heavy bags and crossed the street to help him carry them home—Graziely is a force for good. She also knows that we can do the most good when people know that we’re serving out of love, not obligation. “There’s something I learned from my mom: Do to others what you want people to do to you. It’s Heavenly Father’s plan—He wants us to help people.”
We also can’t let things like technology (AKA our smartphones) get in the way of our reaching outside ourselves to do good, says Graziely. “That’s the thing—we have to know each other, we have to understand others’ needs because our life is not based on apps. Our life is based on people. It’s based on what we have to do to become better and to follow Jesus Christ.” And a big part of following Jesus means doing good.

The decision to be a helping friend might seem to some of you a little elementary. For me, that one early decision about making friends became highly relevant throughout my entire life, including during a drizzly evening on the other side of the world about forty years after my first day at BYU. I was serving in Sydney, Australia when Pope John Paul II came to town. I was invited to join religious leaders to welcome him. We were roped off from the hundreds of thousands who had gathered and were provided seats near the stand. The Pope was late and my colleagues of other faiths in their impressive robes and regalia were just sitting around and waiting. It was most natural for me to take initiative, shake hands with row after row of these high ranking religious officials, introduce myself, and thank them for coming.
As I was finishing with the last row of dignitaries, a man who had been watching me came down off the stand and asked who I was. I learned that he was a senior Catholic Cardinal, the third ranking man in the entire Roman Catholic Church worldwide. He asked if we could talk more and invited me to Rome.
Our friendship led to several trips to the Vatican and many hours of candid and enlightening conversation. This Cardinal told me that before my arrival he spoke with every senior officer of their church and that I was their first contact ever with a LDS official. Our association led to friendships with others at the Vatican and around the world, including extended personal involvement with LDS matters by Cardinal Ratzinger, who is now Pope Benedict XVI. We are now known and trusted at the Vatican and have been singled out and given access to the most ancient and precious religious documents found in the Vatican archives.
Can you safely conclude that making friends is a small thing? Please don’t risk it. We seldom know how Heavenly Father will use us as we respond to his subtle directions in our lives.

Melanie, Wendy, Tony, and Matthew Hardman are working hard to follow in the footsteps of older siblings Andrew, Daniel, and Katrina. This family from the Eight Mile Plains Ward, Brisbane Australia Stake, isn’t shy about sharing the gospel, or the high standards it embraces, with others.

Both older brothers have served missions, and older sister Katrina recently led an effort to have an offensive advertising campaign removed from her university campus.

“I collected signatures to have offensive posters removed,” says Katrina, 19. “I met many good people during this process, and one of them came to church with me.”

Melanie, who is the next in line for university study, will join Katrina, Daniel, and Andrew at the Queensland University of Technology. She is 17 years old, and is looking forward to participating in institute.