Gospel Story Finder

I learned about those realities from a wise teacher nearly 25 years ago. I spoke in an ancient theater in Ephesus. Bright sunlight flooded the ground where the Apostle Paul had stood to preach. My topic was Paul, the Apostle called of God.
The audience was hundreds of Latter-day Saints. They were arranged on the rows of stone benches the Ephesians sat upon more than a millennium before. Among them were two living Apostles, Elder Mark E. Petersen and Elder James E. Faust.
As you can imagine, I had prepared carefully. I had read the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles, both those of Paul and his fellow Apostles. I had read and pondered Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians.
I tried my best to honor Paul and his office. After the talk, a number of people said kind things. Both of the living Apostles were generous in their comments. But later, Elder Faust took me aside and, with a smile and with softness in his voice, said, “That was a good talk. But you left out the most important thing you could have said.”
I asked him what that was. Weeks later he consented to tell me. His answer has been teaching me ever since.
He said that I could have told the people that if the Saints who heard Paul had possessed a testimony of the value and the power of the keys he held, perhaps the Apostles would not have had to be taken from the earth.
That sent me back to Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. I could see that Paul wanted the people to feel the value of the chain of priesthood keys reaching from the Lord through His Apostles to them, the members of the Lord’s Church. Paul was trying to build a testimony of those keys.

It is a typical Saturday morning along the Salt Lake Valley’s Jordan River. The sun’s rays shimmer as they reflect off calm waters, the birds’ warbles create a peaceful harmony, and the squirrels’ chatter echoes through the trees. Suddenly, the usual tranquility of the early morning is interrupted as large clusters of people round a bend in the smooth trail that runs along the river. There are 500 people of all ages and denominations. What’s more, they are laughing and talking together.
Maybe this isn’t such a typical Saturday.
It was last April that Brighton High School senior Gweneth Thomas decided that she needed to get more involved in service. So she approached a representative of Church World Service, an interfaith organization dedicated to helping fellow Christians in times of need. She soon became at least 80 hours immersed in service as she agreed to become the organization’s first youth coordinator of the annual Christian Rural Overseas Program walk.
CROP walks are worldwide fundraisers for struggling countries in times of crisis. Volunteers are asked to pledge money and then walk a six-mile course to help them appreciate the hardships of fellow Christians all over the world.
The theme of the 1996 walk was “We walk because they walk,” referring to the individuals in many developing countries who must walk five or six hours a day to find food and water.
Besides raising money for the needy, Gweneth and her co-chair, Max Freeman, had a very specific goal in mind for the 1996 walk. They wanted members of the ten participating religions to work to break down the barriers between each other and move from intolerance to acceptance, from acceptance to respect, and finally from respect to love.
But before any of this could happen, Gweneth and Max felt they needed to get teenagers involved as well as adults. They started in their high school cafeteria. Fellow Brighton High students Alina Stay, Brenna Flynn, and Mindy Pitts observed their classmates’ reactions to Gweneth’s pleas for donations.
“What doesn’t seem like a lot of money to me will feed a lot of people [in another country],” says Mindy.
Brenna, a convert to the Church, was especially concerned with helping Gweneth and Max create peaceful interfaith relations through the walk.
The most exciting part of the event for her was seeing that goal fulfilled as “people from other faiths shared testimonies and showed the true spirit of Christianity without the normal my-church-is-better-than-your-church attitude,” she says.
“Build up trust and gain a respect for each other,” says Max.
And not only did the teens spur these good relations between denominations while donating money; they walked as well.
Perhaps it was the strenuous six-mile walk. Perhaps it was the wooden signs along the trails with poignant messages. Perhaps it was the experience of associating with people of many different faiths. Whatever the case, the mood at the picnic afterward was reflective.
Everyone seemed to sense what Gweneth put into words, “One person can make a big difference.”

Many people who lived in those former colonies have joined the Church. Church members say this may be because the retornados are more open to new ideas. They were also humbled by their change in life-style and the loss of most of their material possessions when they left Africa.
“We lost everything we had,” recalls Arnaldo Teles Grilo, patriarch of the Lisbon Portugal Stake. “And it was a good thing.”
Involved in banking in Angola, he had owned four houses and several cars. Now he and his wife, Eugenia, live in a small apartment in a suburb of Lisbon. They have a few artworks as mementos of Africa and, in one corner, a small portion of the fine library they once owned. “Life was very hard here when we returned from Africa, because we lost so much,” Brother Teles Grilo says. But, he explains, their situation compelled them to consider the greater importance of eternal blessings when the missionaries taught them the gospel.
The Teles Grilos were baptized in 1977 and sealed later in the Swiss Temple. He dreams of the day when there could be a temple in Portugal. The cost and the rigors of the trip now keep some worthy Portuguese from traveling to Switzerland to partake of sacred ordinances in the temple there. It is approximately 2,500 kilometers, and the trip takes two days and a night on the bus.
“But at the end of the journey, when we see the temple,” Brother Teles Grilo says, remembering their feelings, “what’s the sacrifice? What’s the journey?” More than 250 Portuguese members went on last year’s temple excursion.

My parents taught me the importance of studying and showed me how learning more skills helps us feel more confident. But I still struggled in school because I didn’t have much desire to study. I just didn’t think it was important. Then one day in high school I realized I wasn’t in school for my parents or for my teachers—I was there for me. When I understood that education was important for my future, my performance at school began to improve, and I earned much better grades.
Everything I learned at school has helped me. My parents are divorced, so I’ve had to do a lot to help around the house and take care of my siblings—cooking, cleaning, and helping them do homework. I studied at a high school where I learned to cook at a professional level, and I’ve been able to use those and other skills I learned at school to help my family.
The things I learned at school also help me to learn spiritually. For me, it’s all connected. Take math, for example. Studying math helped me understand the importance of managing my finances and keeping a budget. So when the missionaries explained tithing to me, I understood how important it was to budget for it, and it was easier for me to start keeping the law of tithing once I was baptized. When you study at school, you get used to learning and finding knowledge, which prepares your mind to study the scriptures. And I’ve learned that it works both ways—studying the scriptures can also help me have a clearer mind at school.
Jessica P., Liguria, Italy

It was my first and only Christmas in the Illinois Chicago (Spanish-speaking) Mission, and I saw that one of our investigators was alone and would have no presents. His name was Tito Portillo. He’d been a Catholic missionary in Mexico, and he was really struggling with accepting the Book of Mormon. We decided to give him a triple combination as a gift.
As we entered his home on Christmas Eve, there was a terrible feeling of loneliness. He was having a hard time being in the United States since his family was in Mexico. But when we gave him the gift, his whole attitude changed. He smiled and we knew he was grateful.
After only a few weeks, he was able to quote scriptures from the Book of Mormon, just as he did from the Bible. He was eventually baptized, and is now serving as a stake missionary, sharing the Book of Mormon with others.
I’m so fortunate to have been there to see the change the Book of Mormon made in his life. What a great gift to each of us from the Lord.
—Debra MaylinEagle, Idaho

Basketball season for the Academia Juarez varsity girls began just like any other season: a winning season was their goal. The Church-owned school in Colonia Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico, is unique in that the majority of the sports programs require the players to travel internationally to play their games. Another interesting fact is that the entire 2010–11 varsity girls’ team, the Lobas, are all active Latter-day Saint young women. They stand out because they are just as united off the court as they are on the court.
And they did have a successful season, winning the majority of their games and taking first place in two tournaments. To end their season, they decided to go to the temple together as a team and do baptisms for the dead. Their coach, Bishop Russell Robinson, made the arrangements. He says, “Never have I seen a group of girls who love each other and love the Lord like these girls do.”
As Colonia Juárez Chihuahua Mexico Temple president Robert Whetten met them at the doors of the temple, he said, “I don’t know of anywhere in the world where a competitive sports team makes coming to the temple a priority to cap off their season. This truly is a great group of young women.”

Tara listened as her mother talked excitedly on the phone.
“That’s wonderful, Kevin,” Mom said. Kevin was Tara’s older brother. “We’re so happy for you!” Mom continued. She was crying and laughing at the same time.

Mom hung up the phone and turned to Tara. “Kevin and Chrissy got a call from their social worker. He said that Family Services has a baby girl for them.”

Kevin and his wife, Chrissy, had not been able to have children. LDS Family Services was helping them to adopt a child.

“Will Kevin and Chrissy take the baby to the temple?” Tara asked.

Her mother nodded. “After the adoption is final, Kevin and Chrissy will have her sealed to them, just like you were sealed to us.”

Tara thought of something. “I’m going to be an aunt!”

“That’s right,” her mother said. “Aunt Tara.”

Tara grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

Three months into my mission, a new missionary from Idaho was assigned to be my companion. We had been together only a few days when I realized something very significant: my new companion knew the gospel, while I only knew the discussions. How I wished that I had prepared to be a missionary as hard as I had prepared to be a basketball player. My companion had prepared for his mission throughout his life and was immediately a valuable member of the team. How important it is for fathers and sons to work together on the basics in preparing for a mission.

I volunteered for service in the United States Marine Corps during the Vietnam War. Soon after my arrival in Quantico, Virginia, for basic training, I found myself standing at attention in front of my barrack’s bunk along with 54 other Marine Corps recruits. I met my drill instructor, a battle-hardened veteran, when he kicked open the door to the barracks and entered while screaming words laced with profanity.
After this terrifying introduction, he started at one end of the barracks and confronted each recruit with questions. Without exception, the drill instructor methodically found something about each recruit to ridicule with loud, vulgar language. Down the row he came, with each marine shouting back his answer as commanded: “Yes” or “No, Sergeant Instructor.” I could not see exactly what he was doing, because we had been ordered to stand at attention with our eyes looking straight ahead. When it was my turn, I could tell he grabbed my duffel bag and emptied the contents onto my mattress behind me. He looked through my belongings, then walked back to face me. I braced myself for his attack. In his hand was my Book of Mormon. I expected that he would yell at me; instead, he moved close to me and whispered, “Are you a Mormon?”
As commanded, I yelled, “Yes, Sergeant Instructor.”
Again I expected the worst. Instead, he paused and raised his hand that held my Book of Mormon and in a very quiet voice said, “Do you believe in this book?”
Again I shouted, “Yes, Sergeant Instructor.”
At this point I was sure he would scream disparaging words about Mormons and the Book of Mormon, but he just stood there in silence. After a moment he walked back to my bunk and carefully laid down my Book of Mormon. He then proceeded to walk by me without stopping and went on to ridicule and disparage with profane language all remaining recruits.
I have often wondered why that tough Marine Corps sergeant spared me that day. But I am grateful I was able to say without hesitation, “Yes, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” and “Yes, I know the Book of Mormon is true.” This testimony is a precious gift given to me through the Holy Ghost with the help of two missionaries and a priests quorum adviser.

After wandering spiritually in her college years, Amanda Freebairn of the United States took the small step of praying, which led her to follow a prompting to visit her local temple grounds. “Feeling the Spirit there rekindled my faith,” she says. Returning to church and accepting a calling to teach Primary deepened her faith, and she kept taking steps that brought her to fully embrace the gospel. Along the way, Amanda observes, “I found answers to the questions I so desperately needed.”

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.

“My mother is a unique person,” began Elder Paramore in tribute to his mother. “She has implicit, absolute faith in our Father in heaven. Through prayer and undeviating faith, she has been able to accomplish many things in her life. She prayed that my father would become active in the Church, and it happened; he became a very strong, faithful, and capable leader. She prayed to have more children, a thing that was especially difficult for her. Yet she was able to have six children, who mean so much to her. She set a fine example for all of us to follow.
“My father is special also. When I was young, he trained me to be a dental technician. We often sat side by side while I worked under his direction until I became quite proficient. It was a giant show-and-tell program for about five years. When I went into the service, they learned of my skills. I was pulled out of basic training when I was only eighteen years old and put in charge of a dental laboratory with many workers. All this because of my dad’s training.
“We have some great progenitors on the Paramore side of my family,” Elder Paramore continued. “My grandmother left Denmark alone at the age of eight. Her mother put her on a boat with a tag around her neck addressed to Ephraim, Utah. When she arrived in New York, some Mormon missionaries who had arranged to meet her there helped put the child aboard the train that would take her to her destination. What an experience for an eight-year-old girl! It makes me weep to think about it. I’m sure her mother thought that this was a wonderful chance for her daughter to be where the Church was strong.”
On the subject of children who are eight years of age, Elder Paramore added, “As a former bishop, I must have interviewed at least eighty children and watched them be baptized. In all those interviews, I never knew a time when I felt that the child wasn’t ready for baptism. Eight is the age of accountability and children do know right from wrong at this age. They don’t know all of the doctrines, of course, but they know how to make proper judgments. They know instinctively, by the light of Christ, what is right. Whether they do what is right is subject to the exercise of their free agency, but there’s no question in my mind regarding an eight-year-old child’s ability to choose the right. I’ve had that witness come to me many, many times.
“I would like the children of the world to know that the great message from our Heavenly Father is to trust in Him and to love their fellowmen. Keep the loving spirit you have at this age in your life. You are humble now and teachable. You have a marvelous ability and that is that you can forget—you don’t hold grudges and you can put problems out of your mind and go on loving someone who may have hurt you. Don’t build walls or barriers, just keep a loving heart. There is no substitute for love. Love means interest and concern. It means doing things for others. When there is a spirit of love between two people, it encourages a feeling of trust and self-worth. You can share any problem with each other and solve it together. Love breaks down barriers. President Kimball loves unconditionally.
“If you are remembered for only one thing, what would it be? Would you want to be remembered because you were steadfast in the things of the Lord? That you were honest? That you were trustworthy? That you were a hard worker? That you were a good missionary? All of these are cherished attributes, but wouldn’t it be wonderful to be remembered above all else for your love of people? I bear witness to the truth that loving the Lord and loving your fellowmen is the message of the Savior and that we must find and return this love if we are to have eternal life.”

From their bed in the garret, Joseph Smith and his younger brother, William, could hear the night wind slide over the bark roof of their two-story log house. Presently, William leaned his head over the side of the bed and put his ear close to the floorboards. He could hear the voices of his parents above the whispers and sighs of the wind. “… great excitement … everyone for miles around … down in the woods …”
William wriggled back under the quilt and shook his brother. “Joseph, it’s time for another camp meeting. When will it be?”
“The first week of July … down in the woods.”
William’s eyes popped in the darkness and a grin creased his cheeks. Nothing could make a boy’s heart beat faster than thoughts of a revival. A camp meeting in 1819 meant a holiday, with more going on than one could possibly take in. There would be picnics and games and friends to play with, along with the preaching and praying. But more fun than anything, though William didn’t ever speak it, was watching the weeping and wailing of the sinners.
“We’ll be going, I expect.”
“For certain,” Joseph answered.
On the morning of the great Genesee camp meeting, Joseph was up early to attend to his chores. Then the little handcart that his father had fashioned to use for selling refreshments was lifted into the wagon. Joseph and his father often traveled to other villages and camp meetings to sell Lucy’s pies and gingerbread, as well as hard-boiled eggs, root beer, and other “like notions of traffic.” Today the whole family was going and there was a feeling of gaiety in the air.
Sophronia brought out the baskets of baked goods that would be offered for sale to the crowds of people. “Some say there will be four to five thousand,” she said expectantly.
Joseph knew that some folks would attend because of a desire to “get religion” but many would be there just for the excitement.
By the time they were ready to leave, the sun had begun its daily climb. Joseph tried to appear calm as a farm-bred boy ought, but the happiness in his heart pushed out in a whistled song.
The family followed the road that ran diagonally between Palmyra and Vienna, where the meeting would be held in the woods. When the Smiths arrived there was already a confusion of people and wagons. Everyone was trying to find a place on the outer edge of the clearing. Some had already made tents by stretching bed covers between their wagons and small trees, with a layer of straw on the ground for sleeping.
Joseph’s father drove their wagon close to a platform made of rough boards. It was built off the ground so the crowds could see and hear the preachers.
Lately Joseph had been doing a lot of thinking about religion, comparing what the various churches believed with what Jesus taught in the Bible. And he wasn’t alone. An excitement over religion was affecting young and old alike.
As Joseph sold his mother’s baked goods among the crowds, he saw many of his friends from Palmyra. He stopped long enough to play a game of pulling sticks or to wrestle, but for the most part he listened to the preachers calling the sinners to repentance. Some of the sessions lasted all day and into the night. One minister after another took the stand to preach long, powerful sermons. Sometimes they directed prayer circles or the singing of hymns. While the meetings were going on, many people “got religion” by shouting and crying for mercy.
In his own thoughtful, quiet way, Joseph found himself caught up in the tremendous emotions of the revival. Much of what Joseph heard didn’t agree with what he read in the Bible, so the preaching and exhortations of each day added to the confusion he felt within.
Joseph was a thinker. He enjoyed debating with the other boys in the neighborhood. It helped to satisfy his yearning for understanding and truth.
One evening when Joseph reached the village of Palmyra, a light snow had fallen and the cold penetrated his clothing, carefully patched to make it last through the season. The lamplight flickering through the windows of the village store beckoned him on. His long legs lengthened their stride.
Joseph stood for a moment outside the door, studying the figures in the crowded room. Orsamus Turner and Pomeroy Tucker, two of the older boys, were already there, as were some of the men of the village.
Joseph stamped the snow from his shoes and entered the store. It smelled strongly of burning wood, cheese, and wet wool. He joined the group around the stove, scrubbing his hands in its warmth until he was scorched through.
When all the boys had gathered they discussed a subject to debate. Joseph’s penetrating blue eyes deepened as he offered a suggestion. “Ever since the big Genesee camp meeting people hereabouts have been stirred up over religion …”
Some mornings later, when the world was pink with sunrise, young Joseph slipped quietly out of his log home. His steps were quick with anticipation now that he had determined what to do to resolve his search for the truth.
Joseph thought it rather strange as he recalled the events of the previous night. He was reading a certain passage in the Bible, when the words seemed to leap from the page and found their way into his heart where they would not be stilled. Over and over his mind reflected on them. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could see those words in the first chapter of James clustered together on the page: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.”
If anyone needs wisdom, I do, Joseph decided. And if God will give me an answer and not consider it a bother, I’ll venture it, he thought humbly.
Joseph cut directly across the clearing, striding over tree stumps that protruded from the earth like wooden eruptions.
The Smith family had moved to their new farm in Farmington (later Manchester), New York, some three miles from the village of Palmyra, a little more than a year ago. Joseph had helped log the trees, and hauled many wagonloads of wood into the village to be sold for fuel. Some of the stumps had been burned out, but mostly they were left and the soil was tilled around them. Soon he would help scatter kernels of wheat into the broken ground, rich and fertile from layer upon layer of decayed leaves. Then the earth would need to be dragged over with a large maple limb to level it.
It was wearying work to clear forestland and make it tillable for farming, though somehow it didn’t leave him as tuckered out as trying to clear up the confusion in his mind. For some time Joseph had been in the midst of a “war of words” over religion. Some settlers argued for one church, some for another, and many ministers claimed that theirs was the only true church. The bad feelings that arose were not too well hidden either.
Joseph thought of his mother as almost a saint, and he believed his father was as good as Moses back in ancient times ever was. But even they could not agree on a religion. His mother and three of the children, Hyrum, Sophronia, and Samuel, attended the Western Presbyterian Church in Palmyra. Joseph’s father agreed with his father, Asael Smith, who wasn’t satisfied with any religion. He just kept studying the Bible; said he was looking for “the ancient order, as established by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and His apostles.” Joseph was somewhat inclined toward Methodism, and had attended some of their meetings. Yet in the midst of all the agitation around him, how could a boy be sure?
As he climbed a fence at the far end of the clearing he recalled how often he had asked himself: “What should I do? Who is right? How shall I know?” At times his yearning for the truth had almost been a hurt within him.
But now Joseph knew how to find the answer. Since he had read those words in the Bible, they were carved on his consciousness as clearly as initials on the trunk of a tree. He had decided to follow them implicitly, and he was going into the woods to pray. He would ask God which church to join, believing that God meant just what He said, “… and it shall be given him.”
Why didn’t I think of it before? he wondered. (To be continued.)

“The time is 6:30 A.M. The time is 6:30 A.M. The time is 6:30 A.M.”
Keith Kellman’s head emerged from under his pillow and trained a baleful eye on his talking alarm clock, which seemed to be taking special delight in waking him this Sunday morning. As his hand hit the “stop” button, he considered putting his head back under his pillow.
After all, the house heat was still off and it was cold out there. It wasn’t as if his parents would care if he got up or not; he was the sole churchgoer of the family. And he was tired. Early-morning seminary every weekday, and now priesthood meeting at 8:00 A.M. But then Keith sadly realized that all this thinking and debating had gotten his brain waves going, and he probably wouldn’t fall back to sleep anyway.
It wasn’t until he was showered, dressed, and halfway out the door that he remembered that today was the Sunday he had promised to give the bishop his answer.
He began to dig his car out of the snow, shivering and muttering to himself. Even before the Great Wednesday Humiliation, he had his doubts about going on a mission. But what had happened on Wednesday had really clinched it. But how do I tell the bishop? he wondered as his foot came down on the accelerator. The noise from his broken muffler shattered the morning silence.
“Cut your headlights. That must be him. Yep, ’80 rust bucket with an exhaust system loud enough to wake the neighborhood. Okay, he’s far enough ahead of us now. Pull out and follow him,” she said.
Keith was grateful his car made it to the church without the muffler falling off. He was also grateful he found a place to meditate before the meeting. He even began thinking the bishop might forget to call him into his office today.
Yeah, sure.
“Okay, so we followed him to this church and watched him go in. Now what? We know he hauls himself out of bed at an insane hour every morning to go to this church. You’ve seen what you wanted. Let’s go.”
“No. I want to wait a while and see if anybody else shows up. Then I’m going in to see what’s inside.”
“You’re going in? He’ll recognize you and know something’s up.”
“Don’t worry, baby brother. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing my black wig today. I always wear my blonde wig to school. Anyway, I don’t exactly have the kind of face that will turn any heads. He’ll never know.”
“This is so stupid. If you’re that interested in this guy and his church, why don’t you just ask him what you want to know?”
“Listen. Anyone can mouth scriptures and high-sounding ideas. But does he really believe what he said last Wednesday. I want to know what this guy and everybody else inside are like when they don’t have an audience.”
“Following church, Keith went for his bishop’s interview. As he sat across from the bishop, Keith shifted nervously in his chair and then cleared his throat. “It isn’t that I don’t want to go on a mission.”
“Great, Keith. I’m glad you want to go.”
“Please, Bishop. I hate it when you do that. Look, it’s just that I really don’t think I’d make a good missionary. Face it. I weigh 120 pounds and I wear these stupid glasses. Nobody takes me seriously. I get so nervous when I have to speak in front of more than two people that I ooze sweat until my face turns red. Nobody’s going to listen to me; they’ll just laugh and slam the door in my face.”
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little, Keith?
“Every time I try to be a good example, I become a laughingstock. Like last Wednesday at school. I was just going to lunch when this guy, Greg Filtch, stops me and pulls me into the lunchroom office. He said that he heard I was a Mormon and that he was interested in hearing a little about the Church.” Keith took a deep breath and went on. “ I knew Greg liked practical jokes, but this time I thought he might be sincere. So I told him about the Book of Mormon and how the Church had changed my life.
“Sounds promising. What happened?” the bishop asked.
“It was a setup. He had the PA system microphone under his jacket. He was broadcasting my testimony to the entire school. When I came out of the office, everyone in the lunchroom was in hysterics. Now I’m known as Mr. Televangelist. Everyone’s always going, ‘Hey, Preacher’ and ‘Hallelujah! Got any more good sermons today?’ My one try at missionary work and I disgrace the Church.”
“You can’t disgrace the Church by doing the right thing. I hear you substituted for the Gospel Essentials teacher this morning.”
Keith shrugged. “Another disaster. I was supposed to be giving a lesson on the importance of baptism, but halfway through the class this black-haired, skinny girl comes in and sits on the back row. All of a sudden the lesson plan goes completely out of my head and I start talking about the plan of salvation. About a half hour of this andshe excuses herself and cuts out of class.”
The bishop raised his eyebrows. “Sometimes that happens to me too. I feel impressed to teach certain principles at certain times.”
But Keith didn’t hear the bishop. “I drove away the only investigator that’s come to that class in a month.”
“Well, how’d it go? You look like you’re hyperventilating and your eyes are red. Should I call the doctor?”
“No, just give me a few minutes. I’ve decided I’m going to need your help tomorrow, though.”
“Hey, it’s the lunch-time preacher man! Here’s a little something for the collection plate.” Keith ducked as pennies from the Monday morning school crowd showered him. As he continued walking, Keith suddenly found himself staring up at all 225 pounds of Mike “The Wall” Wade, starting left tackle on the football team.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Righteousness, the man who knows the truth about everything,” Mike said. “I hear you think you’re Mr. Informed, Kellman. Mr. I Know The Truth.”
“I never, uh, said … ” Keith began to sputter.
“Here’s the deal, Mr. Religious. Why don’t you just admit to me and all these good folks that you may have been wrong about all this church stuff?”
Keith’s eyes focused directly into Mike’s. For some reason, Mike’s expression reflected more curiosity than fierceness—more like he wanted to know something. Keith relaxed a little and said, “What are you going to do, Wall, bash everybody who doesn’t agree with you? What I said last week stands. I told the truth. You might as well learn to live with it.” Mike looked at him, seemed to think about what Keith had said, then walked off.
“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done for you, Sharon. I hope you’re satisfied.”
“I’m satisfied, Mike.”
“I have to admit, though. That Kellman kid was beginning to get to me too. No more games, okay?”
“Okay. It’s time to hang up the ol’ cloak and dagger. Hand me the phone book, will you?”
“I got here as soon as I could, Bishop,” said Keith, meeting the bishop in front of his office. The bishop opened the door but didn’t say anything. When Keith stepped inside, he saw Mike Wade and a thin, familiar-looking girl standing in the far corner of the room. They both looked uncomfortable.
“Keith,” the bishop said, “I think these people have something to tell you.”
Mike pointed to the girl. “My sister Sharon. I know we don’t look like we’re from the same family. I got all the healthy genes, I guess. She’s … ” Mike’s voice trailed off.
The pale girl started to speak. Before she could, it hit Keith.
“Hey, you’re the girl that came to my Sunday School class. And haven’t I seen you around school? Only with different hair?”
“Keith,” Sharon began in a soft, clear voice. “I’m afraid we’ve been doing some awful things to you. It was all my idea, so don’t blame Mike. We’ve been spying on you, following you, and causing you all sorts of grief.”
“I, I don’t understand.”
“I had to find out if you really believed what you said.”
“What I said about what?”
“Let’s just say we caught your broadcast from the lunchroom.”
“Ohhh no. Not that again,” Keith sighed.
She smiled. “It wasn’t only that. It’s a long story.”
Mike cut in. “We live near your church, and every day we’d wake up when your car would come chugging down the road.”
“I go to church on Sundays and early-morning seminary the rest of the week,” Keith explained. “I guess I better get my muffler fixed.”
Sharon picked up the story. “At first, the noise just made us mad. But then I got to thinking. Why would someone get up at 5:30 every morning? After hearing what you said last week, I—we—followed you to your church. I realized you go all alone; like no one’s forcing you to do this religious thing. I was curious to know more in view of my current situation.”
“Current situation,” Keith repeated mechanically.
“Under this wig, I don’t have any hair. Chemotherapy. And it’s not doing much good anymore.”
Keith stared blankly, then allowed what she had just told him to sink in.
“I’m not looking for miracle cures or healings. I’m beyond that, I think. What I am looking for is—how do I put this?—not why I’m going to die, but why I lived in the first place. Does my life count for anything? Is there some sort of plan to all this?”
“Anyway,” Mike continued, “Sharon’s got this funny feeling that maybe you know something most everybody else doesn’t. So she crashed your church class, eavesdropped, tested you, and even made me threaten you. I’m sorry about that.”
Keith looked from one to the other and found himself speechless.
“I don’t blame you if you’re angry, but I was getting kind of desperate to know if there was anybody out there who really believed in anything. I remember what you were saying in that church class, and it made me feel really good inside. I think you can tell me what I want to know. You can tell me why?”
Keith met her gaze. “Yeah, I think I can.”
The bishop, who had been standing behind them, finally spoke. “She’s asked to take the discussions from the missionaries, Keith. Maybe you’d like to sit in on them with her.”
Keith smiled and hooked a thumb at Mike. “What about His Wallness?”
Mike grinned. “Well, I could go. I guess I owe you that much.”
Keith added, “Maybe I could learn a few things too. Maybe even pick up a few pointers that will come in handy for the next two years.”

Last year, I damaged my ACL so badly that I had to get major knee surgery. When I found out the surgery was one of the most intensive knee surgeries, I was terrified! I asked for a priesthood blessing and fasted. My family members fasted for me too. My recovery ended up being smooth and quick, and I was so grateful for that.
Fasting can be hard, but for me, the blessings from fasting always outweigh the hunger. It’s a small sacrifice we get to make, and the blessings you receive from giving up two meals and donating fast offerings are totally worth it, no matter how inconvenient it seems.
In this world, we like instant gratification. But if you fast consistently and do other things while you fast, like read your scriptures or work on Personal Progress or Duty to God, you dedicate time to the Savior. As you’re consistent with that, you will be blessed. NE
Elaina K., 17, Washington, USA

I hated early-morning seminary. I was raised in Boulder, Colorado, and all we had was early-morning seminary. I tried every excuse why I should not go: “Teenagers need their sleep.” “My life is too busy.” “I’m too tired to pay attention, so I don’t get anything out of it.” Nothing worked. Every morning around 5:45, my mom would wake me, push me in the direction of the shower, and get me out the door for seminary.
This was my pattern all four years until the late fall of my senior year. I arrived at seminary, but the teacher had not shown up. A good friend of mine stood up in front of the class and said, “Since the teacher isn’t here, I think we should just take turns reading aloud the assigned reading.”
Someone started reading 2 Nephi 33:10–11: “Hearken unto these words and believe in Christ; and if ye believe not in these words believe in Christ. And if ye shall believe in Christ ye will believe in these words, for they are the words of Christ, and he hath given them unto me; and they teach all men that they should do good.
“And if they are not the words of Christ, judge ye—for Christ will show unto you, with power and great glory, that they are his words, at the last day; and you and I shall stand face to face before his bar; and ye shall know that I have been commanded of him to write these things, notwithstanding my weakness.”
As I listened to these words, I thought, “I believe in Christ. If I believe in Him, then these words are true.” As I completed that thought, the Spirit touched me more profoundly. I was so struck by it that I remember looking around the room to see if others were feeling the same thing. They didn’t seem changed or appear as if they were feeling something different. This was a lesson that I was learning privately, just for me. The feeling didn’t go away. I carried it with me for the rest of the day. It was the beginning of a strong testimony for me.
I have often thought about that event and contemplated the act of being diligent. I had been attending seminary reluctantly for almost four years. But because I was diligent and obeying my mother’s desire that I attend, I was taught by the Spirit. If I had been at home in bed sleeping, I would have missed that opportunity. It is often when I least expect it, when I have been diligent day after day, month after month, and year after year attending church, reading the scriptures, or praying that the Spirit whispers to me and confirms the truth of the gospel. I am glad I learned that lesson at 17 while attending early morning seminary.

When I was a few months away from returning from my mission, I started thinking a great deal about my life after my mission. I thought heavily about what lay ahead, especially with regards to my education. I often got frightened whenever the thought came to mind because my family didn’t have the funds to send me to school and I wasn’t sure I would be successful. I knew BYU-Pathway Worldwide was an option, but I didn’t know how adequate it was. Nearing the completion of my mission, I got an email to consider BYU-Pathway. I registered for the semester that started a week before I would return home. I knew I would be able to do a make-up work as soon as I returned. Just a day after I got home, I went for my first Pathway in-person gathering.
During PathwayConnect, I realized it was an exceptional program. It is truly “an innovative approach to education—one unique to the Church Education System and to the world” as President Russell M. Nelson proclaimed.1 It increased my faith, gave me hope, sharpened my intellect, and prepared me for the responsibilities I have now and those to come. My mission drew me much closer to the Savior and increased my spiritual well-being. PathwayConnect, while also keeping me close to the Savior, increased my love for others, increased my desire to serve, and improved my temporal well-being.
It wasn’t always smooth. I took my first semester with my smartphone only while I was working a low-income job. It was very challenging, especially during the second semester. I couldn’t do it all with my phone anymore so I shared a laptop with a friend named Loveth Ngumah, but I could only use it at the chapel. I would go there every evening after work, wait for her to finish studying, and then I would take over. Sometimes it meant I get home at 11 PM, and some nights were spent at the chapel, but I never gave up. I knew it was going to change my life anyway, so it was worth it. Soon, I was blessed with a laptop scholarship.
PathwayConnect in itself and the challenges faced prepared me for the busy responsibilities of an assistant stake clerk and Pathway service missionary. Also, it helped me secure a job as a quality assurance specialist for the Family History Department of the Africa West Area Office after completing my first certificate from BYU-Idaho Online.
This has been life-changing! I always hoped to be a part of the Church workforce, but I never saw myself in that position any time soon! Every morning at work I look through my office window to see the Accra Ghana Temple and thank the Lord for such an opportunity to serve in and work for the Church.
I am a first-generation university student. I am almost finished with my second certificate, and then I will finish my associate’s and bachelor’s degree. With every certificate or milestone, my self-esteem increases and my fear of the future decreases because I feel I am one step closer to securing a better future. Because I know I am nothing without God and this inspired program, I have learned to be humble and kind. I have extended helping hands to many other PathwayConnect students to give back. I created a WhatsApp group for PathwayConnect students around the globe to help them through tips and video demonstrations each week. Now, whenever I think about what lies ahead, I can’t help but smile and be eternally grateful for an inspired program called PathwayConnect.

Part of being worthy to enter the temple is obeying the Word of Wisdom. Seth Robinson, a teacher from Reno, Nevada, decided to share the benefits of the Word of Wisdom as part of his Eagle Scout project.
Seth—at left with fellow Scouts Greg Handlon and Caleb Sumrall—set up a display on the dangers of tobacco in a busy shopping mall near his home. He then talked specifically to teenagers walking through the mall, answering questions and distributing information.
“Meeting with the general public made me aware that many people think the use of tobacco will not harm them,” says Seth, who spent a lot of time telling people that nothing could be farther from the truth. “I think this project was a success.”

Our present-day prophet, Spencer W. Kimball, has a great love for all the children of the Church. AFriend reader wrote to share with you an experience that expresses our prophet’s love.
“My name is Margo Busch, I am seven years old and live in San Antonio, Texas. I have three sisters and one brother. Something very special happened to our family. When we were on a 747 jet flying from Salt Lake City to Augsburg, Germany, we saw the prophet on the plane. We wanted to talk to him, but the stewardess wouldn’t let us. We were sad because we really wanted to meet him. So my sisters and I drew some pictures and the stewardess took them to him, and he answered by writing back to us on the pictures. When the plane landed, we were the last ones to leave. As we got off the plane the prophet was there waiting for us to shake our hands. Spencer W. Kimball really loves children very much and everyone in our family loves him too.”

What amazes me about the Book of Mormon is the great and eternal change it causes in people even before they are members of the Church. As a missionary in the Mexico Cuernavaca Mission, I saw this great change firsthand.
When I had been on my mission for six months, a member of the branch referred my companion and me to teach a 20-year-old woman and her family. The young woman didn’t understand what Latter-day Saints believed and asked us many questions. Knowing that the Book of Mormon answers questions of the soul, we gave her the book and shared the promise it contains about praying sincerely to know if it is true.
For three weeks she attended church, and we continued meeting with her. We didn’t know that she had already taken an important step: she had prayed about the Book of Mormon. During one particular lesson, she told us of her experience. She had been thinking a lot about the lessons we were sharing, and she desired to pray on her own. She knelt down and asked God if the Book of Mormon was true. The peace she felt after praying encouraged her to read more of the book. While reading, she felt the Spirit sweep over her.
Recounting her experience, she told us, “I felt more special than I had ever felt before. Something began to fill all the empty space I had in my life that nothing else could fill. I felt so happy that I began to cry. I couldn’t believe what I was feeling, but I knew that my Heavenly Father had answered me, that He knew me, and that He loved me enough to listen to me and answer my prayer.”
I felt so much joy in my heart when she recounted her experience. I knew I was on sacred ground on that occasion. The Holy Ghost confirmed to me that her words were true. From her testimony I was reminded of the great love our Heavenly Father has for us; He loves us so much He has given us the Book of Mormon as an instrument to know Him and His truth. When we obey the principles found in the Book of Mormon, our lives will change.
I still remember how that lesson ended. The sister asked us, “What happens now that I know the Book of Mormon is true?”
“Be baptized,” we responded.
Her reply was simple but reflected the firmness and simplicity of her testimony: “Then I will be baptized.”