Gospel Story Finder

An experience I had more than 60 years ago in Boston taught me just how powerful the privilege of ministering one-on-one can be. I was then a resident surgeon at the Massachusetts General Hospital—on duty every day, every other night, and every other weekend. I had limited time for my wife, our four children, and Church activity. Nonetheless, our branch president assigned me to visit the home of Wilbur and Leonora Cox with the hope that Brother Cox might come back into activity in the Church. He and Leonora had been sealed in the temple. Yet Wilbur had not participated for many years.
My companion and I went to their home. As we entered, Sister Cox welcomed us warmly, but Brother Cox abruptly walked into another room and closed the door.
I went to the closed door and knocked. After a moment, I heard a muffled “Come in.” I opened the door to find Brother Cox sitting beside an array of amateur radio equipment. In that small room, he lit up a cigar. Clearly, my visit was not all that welcome.
I gazed about the room with wonderment and said, “Brother Cox, I have always wanted to learn more about amateur radio work. Would you be willing to teach me about it? I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer tonight, but could I come back another time?”
He hesitated for a moment and then said yes. That was the beginning of what became a wonderful friendship. I returned and he taught me. I began to love and respect him. Through our subsequent visits, the greatness of this man emerged. We became very good friends, as did our dear eternal companions. Then, with the passage of time, our family moved away. Local leaders continued to nurture the Cox family.
About eight years after that first visit, the Boston Stake was created. Can you guess who its first stake president was? Yes! Brother Cox! During subsequent years, he also served as a mission president and a temple president.
Years later, I, as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, was assigned to create a new stake in Sanpete County, Utah. During the usual interviews, I was pleasantly surprised to encounter again my dear friend Brother Cox! I felt impressed to call him as the new stake patriarch. After I ordained him, we embraced each other and wept. People in the room were wondering why these two grown men were crying. But we knew. And Sister Cox knew. Ours were tears of joy! We silently remembered the incredible journey of love and repentance that began more than 30 years ago, one night in their home.
The account doesn’t end there. Brother and Sister Cox’s family grew to include 3 children, 20 grandchildren, and 54 great-grandchildren. Add to that their impact on hundreds of missionaries, on thousands more in the temple, and on hundreds more who received patriarchal blessings at the hands of Wilbur Cox. His and Leonora’s influence will continue to ripple through many generations throughout the world.
Experiences such as this with Wilbur and Leonora Cox occur every week—hopefully, every day—within this Church. Dedicated servants of the Lord Jesus Christ carry out His work, with His power and authority.

As soon as I was old enough to really begin to understand the gospel, I began to have doubts about it. I often wondered if the gospel was true. But my parents insisted that I attend our ward in Germany with them each Sunday, even though I had little desire to be there. I figured I already knew everything that would be said, and I was bored by the routine.
Not wanting to be there, I was critical of the Church and Church members. I assumed members should always live perfectly what they said in their talks and testimonies. However, I noticed that some parents and children fought, some people gossiped, and some young people drank and smoked. Blinded by my prejudices, I noticed only those members who didn’t rush to help the homeless people who occasionally came into the church building. Where is that famous charity mentioned in the scriptures? I wondered. Somehow I missed seeing those who did reach out to help others.
While I was caught up in this spirit of criticism, my nonmember friends offered me cigarettes and alcohol, and I tried them. But that was not all. After a while, I stayed out at night longer and more often, and I always got home late on weekends. And then, of course, I had no desire to go to church because I was so tired.
These friends—combined with the hypocrisy I thought I saw in some Church members, the temptations I succumbed to, my boredom in church, my pride, and my disobedience—led me to not want to know anything about the Church.
Then I made a mistake that forced me to go to court. The prospect of suffering legal penalties forced me to think, and I decided I needed to make some changes in my life.
I went to a trusted Church member and talked with him about my problems. The Lord prompted him to say the right words to me. He helped me recognize that I was at a crossroad. I had to return to the Lord’s way, or I would sink in the mud and go under. This realization was difficult to come to, but it was so clear that I could not misunderstand it. My friend then spoke to my father and asked us to kneel and pray together. My father prayed, and I felt tears in my eyes because I felt such a strong spirit.
I realized then that if my parents had not insisted that I attend church with them, something worse could have happened. I could have fallen completely away.
I have learned that friends outside the Church are okay if you look for good friends with your standards. If friends offer you something and ask you to do something that is not in accordance with the gospel, you should say no. If they continue, it is best to part with those friends, even if it is difficult. It was difficult for me.
I still don’t like hypocrisy, but I now recognize that I have faults of my own to work on. The talks at church are still similar and the meetings the same—but I’m not critical of that anymore. I realize that Church meetings can be interesting in spite of that. It is not easy for me, but I try to listen. I do not want to stray away.
I am developing a greater interest in going to church and in keeping the commandments. It is difficult, but with the help of the Lord and my parents, I can and will do it. It feels good to have loving parents and friends who are active in the Church. It is good to be understood, to be taken seriously, to be loved. It is good to know the Lord is always there.

About 10 years before I joined the Church in 1976, I had a dream. In my dream I saw my father, who had been dead for some time. He called me by my nickname, “Mya, you will later do something in a foreign country that will be very important for your family.” It was a dream I could never forget—what did my father mean?

Throughout my life, I had always been very interested in my family history. After I became a member of the Church, I had another dream. In this dream, I was receiving some guests—very distinguished people. I had prepared a salmon, but I needed to put some plates on the table for the guests. There was always some interruption when I tried to add more plates, but I knew there should be many more. I awoke for a time after the dream but still felt very sleepy. I went to sleep again—and the dream was repeated. I felt I was being told that I had the salmon (which I understood represented the gospel)—I just needed to make it ready for others. I knew that I needed to get names to the temple!

That was the beginning of many hours in the family history library, searching out family records. Time did not exist while I was working there. I had a distant goal of some day being able to take these records to the temple, but I was afraid I would never realize this goal because of the language barrier.

I was so excited when I heard that the temple ceremony had been translated into Icelandic! For 19 years I had worked on my genealogy but never dared to dream that I would be able to go to the temple. And now—somehow—I had the feeling that I was not worthy, and I was afraid my husband would never allow me to go. I watched as members of the branch planned for the trip and went for their temple recommend interviews.

When President Ólafur called me into his office one Sunday and asked why I hadn’t asked for a temple recommend, I told him of my fears and misgivings. He said, “Why do you judge yourself so harshly? Will you believe you are worthy if I, as a servant of the Lord, tell you that you can go?” President Ólafur also told me he would visit with my husband to ask him permission for me to go. I was so happy when I left his office, I embraced everyone I saw. I was still happy when I got home, but the fear came back. I told my husband what had happened, and he said, “Of course you will go!”

When I finally entered the temple in London, my father’s words in that dream 29 years earlier suddenly became clear to me. Here I was, in a foreign country, prepared to do temple ordinances for my ancestors. There are not words to describe the feeling I had at that time. When I came into the celestial room after my own endowment, I felt like Simeon of old when he saw the child Jesus in the temple (see Luke 2:29–30). I, too, felt that after this experience, I could die in peace.

Truly, this was a dream come true!

“President,” said another member of the branch who was a recent convert, “I guess I should move away from home. There is growing tension between Mom and me. It seems to be getting worse all the time.” A tear paused at the corner of her eye. “I’ve tried to get her to listen to the missionaries, but she just becomes angry.”
“Cyndi,” I said, “have you ever told your mother how much you love her, recently, that is? Have you put your arms around her to give her a good squeeze as you have told her how much you appreciate her and all she has done for you?”
“But I want her to come into the Church so badly, I just keep talking about it.”
I interrupted. “Did it ever occur to you that you could never have become a member of this church if it hadn’t been for your mother?”
“But she didn’t want me to join.”
“You wouldn’t even have come into this world if it hadn’t been for your mother. She and your dad gave you the body you have. Your parents brought you up to appreciate the gospel truth when you heard it. They taught you righteous principles so that when you heard the message of the restoration you accepted it. Did you ever consider how many nights your mother may have been awake when you were ill, or how many hours she may have devoted to your care? Have you ever really thanked her for all of these things? Have you ever let her know how proud you are to have her as your mother?”
“But,” she said, “why would Mom be so opposed to the Church?”
“Would you love someone,” I asked, “if you thought that person was going to take your child, or your child’s love, away from you? Your mother might be worried that the Church is doing this.”
“I guess I’ve never thought of it that way,” she said.
“Tell me, what does the Church teach us about our parents?”
“Honor thy father and thy mother.”
“That’s right. Let’s forget about getting your mother to join the Church for now. Think of all the ways you can express your love for her. Throw your arms around her and tell her how grateful you are for all she has done for you.
“Next, show her how much you honor her by helping her in every way. Extend little courtesies to her. As you recall the little kindnesses, the tenderness, and understanding that she has given you over the years, remind her of these and thank her for them.
“Assure her that the Church does not intend to take you away from her. Show her by your conduct that the gospel of Jesus Christ has given you a greater appreciation and love for your parents. It should draw you closer together than ever before.”
The next time I saw Cyndi she was exuberant. “Things have never been better at home. Mom and I are closer than we have ever been in our lives. I love her so much, and she feels better about the Church now.”

A year before the experience related above took place, before he had even heard of the Latter-day Saints, Parley was newly married, had a fifty-acre farm, comfortable house, productive orchard, and beautiful garden. But he sensed something lacking. He studied the Bible and wanted to know more; there must be a restoration of the gospel, he believed. He did not know that it had already occurred but decided to leave his farm and his home to search for the true Church. His older brother William remonstrated with him. “How will you live?” he asked. Parley said he had enough bank notes to sustain himself and his family. These notes, he said, were “founded on capital that will never fail, though heaven and earth should pass away.” His brother asked to see them. Parley records:
“I then unlocked my treasury and drew from thence a large pocket book, full of promissory notes like the following: ‘Whosoever shall forsake father or mother, brethren or sister, houses or lands, wife or children, for my sake and the gospel’s, shall receive an hundred fold in this life, and in the world to come life everlasting.’ ‘If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, you shall ask what you will in my name and I will give it you.’ ‘All things are possible to him that believeth.’”9
Parley then asked his brother if these were genuine notes, if the “signer” of the notes, the Lord Jesus Christ, was able and willing to meet his promises. “Yes” was the only reply William could give. So in August of 1830 Parley settled his affairs, and with ten dollars in his pocket, took his wife and set out in search of the kingdom of God.
He discovered, as all missionaries can, that the Lord does pay off his notes.

Dora Valencia, who had lain four years in the Ajax Ontario Hospital, mustered her courage and fulfilled the desire to attend. From her hospital bed, which was wheeled into the celestial room, she not only basked in the spirit found there, but she also helped to provide that spirit. As I walked past her, upon leaving the room, and gazed at her expression of profound gratitude to the Lord, I bent low and took her hand in mine. Heaven was very near.

Lily S. of Utah, USA, had a busy ninth grade year. As a cheerleader, she participated in parades, football games, basketball games, and cheer camps and clinics. But the path to Lily’s cheerleading career was not an easy one.
As soon as Lily found out about her junior high school’s cheerleading tryouts, she knew she wanted to be a part of the team. For three weeks, Lily practiced with a former cheerleader to learn cheers and dance routines. She also spent hours making up her own cheer. After weeks of practice and a tough audition process, Lily made the team—and the Young Women Personal Progress program had helped.
Because of Personal Progress, Lily has participated in many activities where she learned to set goals and work hard to achieve them—skills that definitely helped her reach her cheerleading goals.

Now, I wish to move to a different matter. I spoke of this same thing many years ago. I repeat it because those who heard it then have long since forgotten, and those who did not hear it need to hear it. It concerns President Joseph F. Smith, who served as President of the Church from 1901 to 1918, altogether 17 years.
Joseph F. Smith was the son of Hyrum Smith, who was the brother of the Prophet Joseph and was martyred with him in Carthage. Joseph F. was born at Far West, Missouri, on November 13, 1838. He came out of Missouri as an infant. As a lad not yet six years of age, he heard a knock on the window of his mother’s home in Nauvoo. It was a man who had hurriedly ridden from Carthage and who told Sister Smith that her husband had been killed that afternoon.
When he was 9, he drove an ox team with his mother across the plains to this valley. At the age of 15 he was called on a mission to Hawaii. He made his way to San Francisco and there worked in a shingle mill to earn enough money to buy passage to the islands.
Hawaii was not a tourist center then. It was populated by the native Hawaiians, who were, for the most part, poor but generous with what they had. He learned to speak their language and to love them. While serving there he experienced a remarkable dream. I quote from his narrative concerning this. Said he:
“I was very much oppressed [when I was] on a mission. I was almost naked and entirely friendless, except [for] the friendship of a poor, benighted … people. 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.
“While in that condition I dreamed [one night] that I was on a journey, and I was impressed that I ought to hurry—hurry with all my might, for fear I might be too late. I rushed on my way as fast as I possibly could, and I was only conscious of having just a little bundle, a handkerchief with a small bundle wrapped in it. I did not realize … what it was, when I was hurrying as fast as I could; but finally I came to a wonderful mansion. … I thought I knew that was my destination. As I passed towards it, as fast as I could, I saw a notice [which read B-A-T-H], ‘Bath.’ I turned aside quickly and went into the bath and washed myself clean. I opened up this little bundle that I had, and there was [some] white, clean [clothing], a thing I had not seen for a long time, because the people I was with did not think very much of making things exceedingly clean. But my [clothing was] clean, and I put [it] on. Then I rushed to what appeared to be a great opening, or door. I knocked and the door opened, and the man who stood there was the Prophet Joseph Smith. He looked at me a little reprovingly, and the first words he said: ‘Joseph, you are late.’ Yet I took confidence and [replied]:
“‘Yes, but I am clean—I am clean!’
“He clasped my hand and drew me in, then closed the great door. I felt his hand just as tangible as I ever felt the hand of man. I knew him, and when I entered I saw my father, and Brigham [Young] and Heber [C. Kimball], and Willard [Richards], and other good men that I had known, standing in a row. I looked as if it were across this valley, and it seemed to be filled with a vast multitude of people, but on the stage were all the people that I had known. My mother was there, and she sat with a child in her lap; and I could name over as many as I remember of their names, who sat there, who seemed to be among the chosen, among the exalted. …
“[When I had this dream,] I was alone on a mat, away up in the mountains of Hawaii—no one was with me. But in this vision I pressed my hand up against the Prophet, and I saw a smile cross his countenance. …
“When I awoke that morning I was a man, although only [still] a boy. There was not anything in the world that I feared [after that]. I could meet any man or woman or child and look them in the face, feeling in my soul that I was a man every whit. 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, if there is anything good in me. That has helped me out in every trial and through every difficulty” (Gospel Doctrine, 5th ed. [1939], 542–43).
The core of that meaningful dream is found in the reproof given by Joseph Smith to young Joseph F. Said the Prophet, “Joseph, you are late.”
Replied Joseph F., “Yes, but I am clean—I am clean!”
The result of that dream was that a boy was changed into a man. His declaration “I am clean” gave him self-assurance and courage in facing anyone or any situation. He received the strength that comes from a clear conscience fortified by the approbation of the Prophet Joseph.

In 1832 the Savior declared to the prophet Joseph Smith, “Behold, I will hasten my work in its time” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:73). Today, 193 years later, that hastening is evident in the work of the “gathering” occurring every day at the Tema Campus Institute Gathering Place in the Ghana Accra East Mission, where family history, missionary, and temple experiences converge to produce miracles.
The miracles in Tema began in September 2024 with the repurposing of an empty building that had formally housed the Ghana missionary training centre and two anchors: BYU Pathway and the Church Seminary/Institute program. Under the direction of two capable and visionary leaders, stake president Stephen Abu Jr. and Bishop Prince Mensah, multiple enrichment classes were added to the offerings available at the building. In less than a year, the influence of these programs grew tremendously, and the building with its programs became a powerful gathering place for the young single adults in the Tema Ghana Stake.
These offerings of spiritual and temporal instruction have attracted a consistent and increasing flow of students. These young single adults are between 18 and 35 years old, are predominantly male, and roughly half of them are “friends of the Church.” These young single adults come voluntarily every day, most of them at some expense and effort to make the trip, and they spend afternoons receiving this instruction after finishing required school classes or day jobs.
It was into this environment that a newly arrived single sister senior missionary was placed. Sister Betsy Thornton, from Utah, had accepted a calling to serve in the Ghana Accra East Mission. On her arrival, despite not having much experience in the subject, she willingly accepted the assignment to teach an institute family history class, having faith that Lord qualifies those He calls. With the aid of fellow institute instructor, Eric Osei Asare, help from some tech-savvy Pathway students, support from other resources, and by exercising a lot of patience, she put her shoulder to the wheel, and her class began to thrive.
Sister Thornton invited missionaries who were serving at the Tema Gathering Place to come teach about the importance of not only building FamilySearch trees but of also uniting those efforts with the blessings of the temple. As they learned about the importance of family history and began to build their trees, the students experienced great joy in discovering their ancestors and other family members on FamilySearch.org/Africa. In concert with the teachings of the temple, students began to be curious about the gospel of Jesus Christ. That curiosity turned into spiritual affirmations of truth and instilled in the members a desire to be baptised for their deceased loved ones. As for the friends, many of them felt the desire to be baptised themselves.
Recognizing the opportunity to build on this spiritual affirmation, Sister Thornton planned a visit the Accra Ghana Temple, where she would take her students to feel the power of the temple. Initially, 22 of the students signed up to go, but that number grew quickly as recently baptised members in the Tema Stake heard about the excursion and asked to join. From there, other young single adults, not wanting to miss out on such an opportunity, joined the group. Eventually, over 70 young single adults, both members and friends of the Church, committed to visit the temple.
On 13 June 2025, one-and-a-half busses filled with eager students pulled into the Accra Ghana Temple parking lot. The group was received by a crew of supportive area missionaries who assisted in hosting, teaching, and guiding at the temple. Following a group photo on the temple steps, the 22 Church members in the group, including seven new converts, were then ushered into the temple to participate in baptisms for their ancestors.
Plans were to take the remaining 50-plus students, friends of the Church, on a tour of the temple grounds, but in a wonderful and unexpected turn of events, a member of the temple presidency emerged and invited all of them to enter the temple waiting room, where he taught them about the nature of covenants and the blessings of the temple. It was truly a miraculous opportunity for each of them to receive counsel and absorb the peace available in the house of the Lord.
Words are barely adequate in describing the surprise, wonder, and reverence present in that experience. Many of the members and their friends later expressed their feelings about the temple, about how sacred, peaceful, and beautiful it was, and how they felt the presence of Jesus Christ and His love in His holy house.
Although the temple experience was the culmination of the trip, there remained other wonderful experiences for the students. Upon leaving the temple, they walked next door to the Christiansborg Stake Center, where students had the opportunity to hear from area family history and African history specialists. Some students were also able to work with specialists in the FamilySearch IT center.
Following those presentations, they had the opportunity to walk next door to the Ghana Accra Missionary Training Center. The privilege of entering this center was another life-changing experience. The new MTC president graciously greeted the group, bearing testimony about the work taking place there. Then, dividing the students into four smaller groups, MTC staff took the students for a real-time view of life there as a missionary. They toured the cafeteria, saw the outdoor field and exercise space, and peeked into the classrooms, where a number of languages were being taught. They noted the prophets’ names on classroom doors, photos on the walls that captured the history of the MTC and Church in Ghana, and marvelled at the diversity of missionaries there, commenting on the warmth, happiness, and spirit of the missionaries.
After a full and rewarding experience at the temple compound, the students piled back into the busses and headed home to Tema. This life-changing experience impacted both members and friends alike, as members felt closer to their deceased relatives and talked about preparations for serving missions, while friends began contemplating their own faith, many expressing a desire to join the Church. Several were even baptised in the days and weeks afterwards. As a result of the success of the excursion, the Tema center added another family history class for new students wanting to learn about these things, and another temple excursion was planned for August of the same year.
All who participated in this activity affirmed that the hand of the Lord is directing the affairs of the Church through programs such as FamilySearch, the Gathering Place, and other YSA programs. These programs strive to bolster the spiritual, educational, and inclusive community being cultivated at the Tema Campus Institute Gathering Place. The united efforts of all involved furthered the gathering of Israel through increased family history work, missionary participation, and temple ordinances. Those who are a part of this miraculous surge gratefully affirm that this is God’s time and He is directing the work at the Tema Campus Institute Gathering Place.

After lunch Pa came into my room. He sat down on the edge of my bed and looked me straight in the eyes. “Did I ever tell you about the oak tree that I used to play on when I was about your age?” he asked.
“No, Pa.”
“Well, I found this old tree that had fallen across Miller Creek. The trunk of that tree was about as big around as this room. My folks always knew where to find me in the summertime. I would play on that tree until dark. I pretended that I was shipwrecked and that I was the captain. I fought off dangerous pirates and enormous sharks. I had the greatest adventures on it that I could imagine.”
I hadn’t really known much about Pa when he was a kid. It felt strange to imagine him as a little kid on that tree, letting his imagination run free. I wished that I could have been there with him.
“My adventures on that fallen trunk are some of my happiest memories,” Pa continued. He looked over at me. “I think that every youngster ought to have something happy to remember about growing up. Something he can hold on to.”
“Yes, Pa,” I said.
“So,” he said with a crooked grin, “I’ve thought a lot about what you said and how you feel about that barn. Maybe that’s what you’ll remember when you’re older.” Pa leaned down and picked up the drawings off the floor. “Do you still want to try to rebuild that old relic out there?”
“Oh yes, Pa!” I hugged him as hard as I could.
Pa stood and walked toward the door, then stopped, held out his hand, and said, “Well, come on then. We’d better get started.”

“At a time when we as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, are unable to attend the temple, it would seem easy to let our recommends lapse. Why? We’re not using them, are we? For me, my recommend was approaching out of date, I needed to have my accountability interview with my Saviour through appointed representatives, a member of the bishopric and then a member of the stake presidency. At the time, we were in lockdown, no sacrament meetings, no temple attendance, no visiting the sick and vulnerable. To do the Lord’s work in these times, an interview was over the phone with my bishopric member. This was just as spiritual as sitting in the office. We had a friendly chat, then an opening prayer and then the worthiness questions. It was humbling and very special. I could answer with a pure heart and mind answers that would see if I was able to enter the house of the Lord. I could feel the Spirit of the Lord just the same. Then an appointment was made to have the next interview with a member of the stake presidency via Zoom. I was so blest to have a face to face interview. I am so blest to have technology that enables this. Again, the Spirit was involved with the interview and again, I felt grateful that I could be held accountable to the Lord. So, I have peace in my heart and at a moment’s notice can attend the temple. In the meantime, we have more time with family and opportunities to discover names that we can add to TempleReady and Family File. Yes, my ancestors are waiting, and I know that the time will come that they too, can enter the holy temple, so I hold a current temple recommend, the link between me and my ancestors.” —Ellen Ender, Perth, Australia

The first lesson is that everyone makes mistakes. Not long ago I was with an eight-year-old girl on the day of her baptism. At the end of the day she said with all confidence, “I have been baptized for a whole day, and I haven’t sinned once!” But her perfect day did not last forever, and I am sure she is learning by now, like we all learn, that as hard as we try, we do not always avoid every bad situation, every wrong choice, or control ourselves as we should.

Fireworks and firecrackers, brightly colored nativity scenes, and feasts featuring stuffed tamales—that’s Christmas in Guatemala. As a full-time missionary I found the traditions very different from my own traditions in the United States. I was homesick and thought my Christmas would be miserable.
My companion, Sister Anaya, said we would find joy on Christmas by serving others. She suggested that we spend the morning singing at the hospital, and we invited other missionaries to join us.
As we approached the entrance, I watched the people waiting in line to see their loved ones. Their faces were sad, their sandal-clad feet dusty, their clothes faded. We waited with them. When we were finally allowed to enter the building, we walked down narrow halls with flaking green paint and cement floors. The smells of medicines and sickness overwhelmed me.
In the dim light I could see sick patients on beds in a large room with little ventilation or privacy. They lay there, some with bandages, some with IVs, some hooked up to machines to help them breathe. Some moaned quietly. Others slept. I wondered why we had come. Most in our small group of missionaries stood in the doorway, not knowing what to do.
But not Sister Anaya. She went to each bed, greeting those who were sick, asking them how they felt, and wishing them a merry Christmas. Her boldness reminded the rest of us why we had come, and we started to sing Christmas carols, softly at first but more confidently as we continued. Some of the patients smiled, some just lay there and didn’t seem to notice, and some hummed along.
Sister Anaya, singing with a hymnbook in her hand, approached a woman who was wrapped in bandages. The woman began to cry quietly, and my companion lovingly stroked her hair. Through her tears the woman spoke, “You are angels. You are angels.”
I will never forget Sister Anaya’s response. “No, you are not hearing angels,” she replied. “You are hearing Latter-day Saints.”
But I also think of Sister Anaya. I remember her encouraging us to sing at the hospital and how we found joy by spreading joy. I remember her stroking the hair of that sick woman. And I remember that I don’t need to be an angel to serve others. I can serve them as a Latter-day Saint.

The Book of Mormon was a means of introducing Wannipha Thongchalerm, to the Church. First introduced to Christianity by a United States serviceman, she received a copy of the Book of Mormon from a friend. The book led to visits by the full-time missionaries. “Learning the gospel was a happy experience for me,” she says. “The missionaries would visit me every other day, and I would make notes of what they told me. Each time they came, I would repeat the previous lesson back to them. I was baptized in 1976.”
Sister Thongchalerm married a nonmember whose work required him to travel a great deal. After five years of marriage, they were divorced. Prior to the divorce, Sister Thongchalerm began studying to be a nurse, a profession she still follows at one of the local hospitals. Three years after her divorce, she married Anan, who had been baptized in 1981. With their two children, Ariza, 4, and Aachanoon, 3, they were among the group that went to the Manila Temple.
“When I came back from the temple, I felt a greater need to share the gospel with others. I decided I would try to bring at least ten other people into the Church, a goal I reached within two years.”
Sister Thongchalerm, who teaches in seminary, Sunday School, and Relief Society, treasures her testimony. “I feel that no matter what happens, no one can take away my testimony of Jesus Christ.”
The Thongchalerms live in a multilevel house in Udorn—a house Brother Thongchalerm will completely finish “some day.”

Not long ago, Jeff Pugh was driving across state to attend a session of Especially for Youth. He never made it. He was involved in a serious car accident and woke
“The first moments I remember of the whole ordeal were about a week and a half after it happened. There were unfamiliar faces in my room. I got to know these faces very well. They were the youth of the Tulsa (Oklahoma) Second Ward. The young women brought me sweets to eat. The young men came and talked to me, and one time helped push me in my wheelchair outside for a conversation.
“I am writing so that the Tulsa Second Ward youth can be recognized for their unselfish love and their Christlike example. They helped a scared and confused young man feel their love. This happening helped build my testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel and helped me realize there really are people out there like the ones you hear about in Sunday School stories. Thanks.”

In the Western Athletic Conference indoor track meet, Doug once again shocked everyone by beating Suleiman. Some had assumed that the first victory was a fluke—a very impressive fluke notwithstanding.
This set the stage for the indoor nationals. “I knew that Suleiman would be expecting me this time, and that I would have to move earlier than I had before. So I made a move with five laps to go, almost a half mile. That was quite a race. It was rough. He ran in lane two for almost the last five full laps. He tried to pass me repeatedly. I won by four-hundredths of a second.” Less than an hour later, Doug had to run the 5,000 meters. Not knowing how much he had left, he dropped to the back of the pack. With two and a half laps to go, he made his move, swinging wide around a group in front of him. He moved into third place with a lap to go, took second on the backstretch, and kicked hard in a grim charge to overtake Suleiman. He couldn’t quite catch him, finishing second.

Olga stared at the picture of the temple hanging on her wall. She sighed. If only her family could go to the temple! But there were no temples close by, and it was too hard to leave her country.
Olga had been baptized years earlier. But then the missionaries were forced to leave the country. Members of the Church weren’t allowed to go to church anymore. They couldn’t even talk to others about their faith.
Olga still kept living the gospel. So did her husband, Jirí. They prayed and read the scriptures. They had home evening and taught their children. On Sundays, they had sacrament meeting in their little apartment. They hung up lots of temple pictures.
And when Olga and her family felt lonely, they remembered that there were thousands of Church members around the world.
One day something exciting happened. President Russell M. Nelson, the Sunday School General President, came to their country to visit. Olga smiled as she shook President Nelson’s hand. Then he made her a special promise. “Sister, one day you will come to the temple.”
Olga’s heart felt warm. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Months passed. Then years. Olga looked longingly at the temple pictures hanging on the walls. Going to the temple seemed impossible!
After four years, Olga and Jirí were invited to go to general conference in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA. Olga was worried they wouldn’t be able to go. Things in their country were still difficult. It would take a lot of paperwork to travel. But somehow everything worked out. Olga felt butterflies in her stomach as their plane took off for the United States. It was a miracle!
Olga and Jirí went to conference and listened to the prophet. They got to see Temple Square and go to the visitors’ center. But the best part was going inside the temple!
Dressed in white, Olga felt like she was in heaven as she made special promises with God. She even got to be sealed to Jirí. President Nelson’s promise had come true!
Olga and Jirí returned home. As time passed, things in their country got better. Finally they were able to go to church, and missionaries could teach again.
One day the phone rang. It was President Thomas S. Monson. He called Olga to be matron of the Freiberg Germany Temple. Jirí would be the temple president.
Olga smiled as she stood in her long, white dress inside the Freiberg Temple. The temple had once seemed so far away. But now she could treasure it every day! It was a wonderful dream come true.

During his early youth, however, ill health and ill fortune seemed to pursue the family. When young Joseph was seven years old, he and his brothers and sisters were stricken with typhus fever. The others recovered readily, but Joseph was left with a painful sore on his leg. The doctors, doing the best they could under the conditions of the time, treated him—and yet the sore persisted. Finally the doctors were afraid they were going to have to amputate his leg.
Thankfully, however, one day the doctors came unexpectedly to the home and told the family they were going to try a new operation to remove a piece of the bone, hoping this would permit the sore to heal. They had brought with them some cord and planned to tie Joseph to the bed because they had no anesthetic, nothing to dull the pain, when they cut into his leg to remove the piece of bone.
Young Joseph, however, responded, “I will not be bound, for I can bear the operation much better if I have my liberty.”
The doctors then said, “Will you take some wine? … You must take something, or you can never endure the severe operation.”
Again the boy prophet said, “No, … but I will tell you what I will do—I will have my father sit on the bed and hold me in his arms, and then I will do whatever is necessary in order to have the bone taken out.”
So Joseph Smith Sr. held the boy in his arms, and the doctors opened the leg and removed the diseased piece of bone. Although he was lame for some time afterward, Joseph was healed.2 At seven years of age, the Prophet Joseph Smith taught us courage—by example.

The next place of gathering for the Saints was Nauvoo, a city they built on land reclaimed from an Illinois swamp. Newcomers came seeking refuge (1) and to help build the new temple (2, 3).

One group of Latter-day Saints who gathered to Nauvoo was led by a free black woman who had embraced the gospel in Connecticut and shared it with her relatives. When the Saints in that area prepared to leave for Nauvoo in 1843, Jane Manning and eight members of her family joined them. Unfortunately, when the group boarded a boat in Buffalo, New York, authorities denied the Manning family passage. Rather than turn back, the party began walking toward Nauvoo, 1,300 kilometers away. It was October, and the weather was turning cold.

“We walked until our shoes were worn out,” Jane said, “and our feet became sore and cracked open and bled until you could see the whole print of our feet with blood on the ground. We stopped and united in prayer to the Lord. We asked God the Eternal Father to heal our feet and our prayers were answered and our feet were healed.”

The group arrived in Nauvoo late in the year, and the Prophet received them with gladness. “You are among friends now,” he told them, “and you will be protected.” “You mustn’t cry,” he told Jane specifically, “we dry up all tears here” (“Biography of Jane E. Manning James,” LDS Church Archives, 2, 3–4).

Thirty-five years later, my son encouraged me to visit Mexico with him. We hoped to find some of the people I had taught. We attended a sacrament meeting in the little town where I began my mission, but I didn’t recognize a single person. After the meeting, we spoke with one of the members and asked if he knew anyone on my list of people I had taught so many years before. We went through the list without any success, until we got to the last name: Leonor Lopez de Enriquez.
“Oh, yes,” the man said. “This family is in another ward, but they attend church in this building. Their sacrament meeting is next.”
We didn’t have to wait long before Leonor came walking into the building. Although she was now in her mid-70s, I recognized her immediately, and she recognized me. We shared a long, tearful hug.
“We’ve prayed for 35 years that you would return so we could thank you for bringing the gospel to our family,” she said.
As other family members entered the building, we shared hugs and tears. Soon we discovered that the bishop of this ward was one of Leonor’s sons, the chorister was a granddaughter, the pianist was a grandson, and so were several young men in the Aaronic Priesthood. One of her daughters was married to a counselor in the stake presidency. Another daughter was married to the bishop of a nearby ward. Most of Leonor’s children had gone on missions, and now grandchildren have also served missions.
We learned that Leonor was a much better missionary than I was. Today her children thankfully recall her tireless efforts to teach them the gospel. She taught them that small decisions, over time, result in a full, righteous, and happy life, and they have taught those things to others. All told, more than 500 people have come into the Church because of this one wonderful family.
And it can all be traced back to a conversation over lunch. I often think that if Dr. Pingree had been more focused on his career or other worldly pursuits, he might never have asked why I wasn’t serving a mission. But his focus was on others and on furthering the work of the Lord. He planted a seed that has grown, brought forth fruit, and continues to multiply exponentially (see Mark 4:20). My mission taught me the eternal consequences of a single decision to do the Lord’s will.