Gospel Story Finder

Cheng Han-sin awakened with a feeling of great happiness, but it took him a few seconds to remember why he felt the way he did.
Stretching out on the mat helped him to recollect. He had given his bed to his aged grandparents who had come to Hsinchu to join in the New Year’s Eve celebration.
This was the very day! There would be fun and feasting all over Taiwan, with fireworks and a parade in the evening. Best of all, he was to march in the head of a dragon. He had been chosen because of his good grades at school and because he happened to be just the right size.
Oh, it was good to be alive this day in Hsinchu, to have grandparents, and to be just the right size to stand inside the head of a dragon and guide it in the parade! He jumped up from the mat, slipped on his clothes, and went out to the kitchen where his mother was preparing a breakfast of rice and fried vegetables. The feasting would come later.
After breakfast his father said, "Now all of you scatter and do your chores. Then I have a surprise for you." From the smile on his father’s face Han-sin knew that it was a good surprise.
He hurried out to weed the small garden. When he came back into the house his sister Mei-ling had just finished wiping off the floor mats. His brother Shih-kai was watering the house plants. The two younger children were listening to their grandfather tell how he and their grandmother had come all the way from the farm on the train.
Waiting impatiently for his father to come in from his work in the garden, Han-sin asked, "Is it time now for the surprise?"
"Now is the time, my son," said his father. "Come. We will all go down to the park."
Han-sin asked, "Grandfather, will you not come with us to the park?"
"No, my son. I cannot walk so far. My old knees do not hold up for more than a few steps."
It was the first cloud on Han-sin’s happy day.
The children followed their father from the house. He was carrying a large package. When they reached the park he brought out a large kite. "This is for you, Han-sin," he said, "because you have brought honor to the house of Cheng."
Han-sin unwound the string and ran along the grass. The kite was lifted upward. It was in the shape of a carp, and as it filled with the wind, the mouth of the fish kite opened as though it were searching for food.
The children all laughed and cheered. "It is the finest kite in all the world," said Mei-ling.
After many flights Father said, "Come, it is time to go home. We will have our dinner, and then it will be the hour to go to the parade."
As they reached the house they took off their shoes and put on the clean slippers that were lined up outside the door. The house was filled with delicious odors of food. Mother said, "Come. The New Year’s feast is ready."
There was fish, steamed rice and vegetables, bits of pork in sweet and sour sauce, bananas and melons, and a sweetmeat for an extra treat.
Before long it was time for Han-sin to leave to take his place in the parade.
"We will all be there to watch you," said his father. "Will you be able to see us?"
"Oh, yes, indeed! I can look out through the huge mouth as long as I am careful not to stick my head out too far. Behind me is Lin Ting-fang. It is he who blows the smoke through the dragon’s nostrils."
Han-sin turned to his grandfather. "I hope that you will like the parade."
"I’m sorry, son, but I cannot walk even that far or stand that long. Your grandmother and I will sit outdoors here and imagine the dragon writhing down the street."
"And I shall stay here with them," his mother added. "I will have many more chances to see parades."
"There will be music that you could hear," said Han-sin. "There will be flutes and banjos and oboes. And there will be fireworks along the way that may be high enough for you to see."
"That will be fine, my son. We will watch and listen."
Han-sin left. He was troubled that his grandparents would not be able to see the parade.
Chang Tso-lin, the parade director, explained, "The big dragon is in the lead. Next come the musicians and the acrobats. And you, Han-sin, will be the last in the little dragon. All you have to do is follow and weave from side to side as you march along. At the third fountain the parade will turn right and return on the other street."
The boys took their places inside the dragon. The sides came down and hid all but their feet. It was a gorgeous green, trimmed with tinsel and make-believe jewels.
As they started to weave down the street, Han-sin thought again of his grandparents. If only they could see the parade! They have had little in life but hard work on the farm.
The boys fell in line behind the acrobats, who were tumbling and performing other stunts along the way. Just behind Han-sin was Lin Ting-fang, blowing smoke through the dragon’s nostrils. He blew some in Han-sin’s face. The boy almost stumbled as he began to choke.
"Please don’t do that again," said Han-sin. "I might fall."
"A fine dragon you’d make if you can’t stand a little smoke," responded Ting-fang, blowing more smoke around Han-sin’s head.
Han-sin started to cough and his eyes were blinded for a moment. "If I fall, it will ruin the parade," he warned.
"So it would," agreed Ting-fang, almost with glee.
Han-sin remembered now. Ting-fang had wanted to be the leader. He was a year older and thought that he should have been chosen.
Han-sin said no more. He thought that if he paid no attention, Ting-fang might stop bothering him. But it was not so. Almost every time the dragon came to an extra large crowd or was making a wide curve, Ting-fang blew more smoke around Han-sin’s head.
At times he could hardly see where they were going because of the smoke. But still he counted the fountains as they passed. Ahead was the third one, Yu Shann, named in honor of the high mountain.
The big dragon in the lead had already turned, followed by the musicians. Now the acrobats were turning. If I turn left instead of right, Han-sin suddenly had a thought, I can go down our street. Then my grandparents can see the dragon.
Disregarding the consequences, Han-sin left the main body of the parade and turned to the left. Behind him Ting-fang hissed, "You numbskull! You have made the wrong turn. Go back before it is too late!"
"It is too late now," said Han-sin. "We will go down this street."
People came running out of their houses to see the dragon. Han-sin’s grandparents and his mother were already seated before the house. Their faces lighted up with surprise and joy as the dragon swerved in their direction and bowed its head.
When they returned to the starting place Chang Tso-lin was waiting. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked.
"I told him!" shouted Ting-fang. "I told him to turn back."
"Anyone can make a mistake," said Tso-lin. "It is not too serious."
Han-sin swallowed hard. He could have let it go at that. But instead he softly said, "It was not a mistake, sir. I went the wrong way because I wanted my grandparents to see the dragon."
"Then you disobeyed. You must tell your father. He will give the proper punishment."
Han-sin bowed and started to walk home. He arrived soon after his father and the younger children.
"It was such a beautiful parade!" Mei-ling was saying. "We wish that you could have seen it."
"But we did," said Grandfather. "At least we saw the best part—Han-sin’s dragon."
"How was that possible?" asked Father. "The parade turned to the right."
"All but the last dragon," explained Han-sin. "I turned it down this street. But it was the wrong thing to do. Chang Tso-lin says I must be punished."
"He is right," agreed Father. "You will bring me the new kite."
"Yes, Father," said Han-sin. He went inside and brought out the beautiful new kite that swam in the sky like a fish.
His father took the kite and handed it to Shih-kai. "It is now yours," he said.
Shih-kai turned to his older brother. "Will you help me fly the kite?" he asked.
Han-sin nodded with a smile.

When Elder Neil L. Andersen visited Cape Town, South Africa in 2018, members bombarded him with questions about when a temple would be built in their city. The Apostle’s response was eye-opening for all of them.
“He said: ‘don’t petition me for a temple. Petition the Lord,’” says Ryan Holmes, who is currently serving as the Cape Town Stake president. The Apostle’s admonition to the people of the Cape “completely changed our focus,” says President Holmes. “Instead of asking leaders what they were doing to get a temple in Cape Town, members began to solicit the Lord.”
Andew Herbert, a counsellor in the Belville South Africa Stake presidency, said that for him, Elder Andersen’s counsel meant “not just asking Him continuously, but explaining to the Lord why we need a temple here; saying to Him: ‘these are the things that will change for us if we have a temple.’”
The Herbert family prayed for this blessing daily, and President Herbert made a similar prayerful request in every temple recommend interview he held.
“I don’t know if people in other parts of the world realize what a privilege it is to see the temple spires in their home cities,” says President Herbert.
“To have that feeling of rightness, to know that there is a place nearby that is consecrated to the Lord. . . .
“To be able to take a group of youth to the temple to do baptisms regularly; to be able to take your children to the temple grounds to teach them about its importance. . . .
“To be able to give Young Single Adults callings to serve in the temple; to have the ability to visit the temple, without having to save for a big trip. To be able to attend even if you are sickly, old or frail and can’t travel long distances. . . . It’s just a huge thing,” he says.
The completed assignment was a full-blown website which features testimonials from members about how a temple would bless their city, an invitation to members to pray for it, photos of members attending other temples around the world, and a feedback box inviting people to share their thoughts on the subject.
It was almost midnight in South Africa when President Russell M. Nelson announced in the last conference session on April 4, 2021 that 20 new temples would be built.
Sister Shelly Herbert, who had been watching the session in bed whilst her husband slept, sat up a little straighter. President Henry B. Eyring’s earlier address, in which he invited the saints to ready themselves “for the increased opportunities for temple experiences that are coming for us,”1 had piqued her interest.
When the Prophet read the words ‘Cape Town, South Africa’, “the tears were just streaming down my face,” says Sister Herbert. “As I cried, I shook my husband to wake him up and said, ‘it’s happened!’”
“There were so many people who doubted that we would get a temple, but we expected it, because we believe in petitioning the Lord.”
Sister Thirsly Motolwana from the Cape Town Gugulethu Branch says that when she heard the news, “I felt like a baby, jumping for joy!” A member of the Church for the past 24 years, Sister Motolwana, too, had been praying for this moment since Elder Andersen’s visit.
“I thought, wow, it took three years of prayers, but it has happened! It’s so exciting to know that prayers do get answered, no matter when.”
She says she and her fellow members can start preparing now for the blessings of a local temple. “If we read more scriptures and understand more about the temple, it will help us prepare,” she says. “We need to be fasting more so that we can be equipped with the Spirit.”
While the temple announcement was an answer to many prayers, President Holmes says, “I can’t think of any actions we have taken to deserve this blessing.
“But it is definitely a reach out from Heavenly Father. It’s like He’s giving us a hug and saying, ‘I’m aware of how difficult things have been; this will help you focus on what’s most important.’”

This same kind of service happens every day among you, the students. I served as a bishop of a campus ward a number of years ago. I had a young man who came to campus shy, unsure of himself, and very socially challenged. I worried for him and wondered how he would be treated. As time went by, I watched him with interest and noticed that over time, he began to change, to grow in confidence, and to smile and laugh with his peers at church. One day, in an interview, I asked him what made him so happy. He responded: "Bishop, I have the very best roommates in the world! They have become my best friends. All of them have served missions, and they have treated me like a loved little brother. I never thought I could make it as a college student, but they won't let me fail!"

This young man went on to serve a mission and returned to pay forward the gift he had received from these good and valiant men, who refused to let him fail. This kind of thing happens every semester on this campus. It happens because you are trying to be disciples of Jesus Christ.

“Brother Ng,” the man’s voice began. Being addressed as “brother” by a gwailouh (foreigner) caught Ng Kat Hing’s attention. A group of clean-cut Americans wearing dark suits had wandered into the furniture store where he was employed, and their unusual appearance fascinated the 25-year-old Hong Kong native. But he was even more intrigued by being called “brother.”
When Ng Kat Hing questioned them about the title, one of the Americans, who wore a name tag identifying him as President Heaton, asked, “Do you believe there is one Father in Heaven?”
When he nodded, the man continued, “Then we are brothers, and I will call you that.”
Forty-three years later, Brother Ng still recalls his response. “I was touched, and in that moment, a little bit of the restored gospel was manifest to me. I wondered about it all that day and through the night. Four days later when the man called back to confirm the furniture order, I knew I wanted to know more.”
Although Grant Heaton, president of the newly opened Southern Far East Mission, was merely looking for advice about teakwood furniture that August day in 1955, he found much more than that in Ng Kat Hing. He found a language teacher, a convert, a missionary, a Church leader—a true pioneer.
“Brother Ng and his family are real pioneers of the Church in the Hong Kong area,” remarks Elder Jacob de Jager an emeritus member of the Seventy, who, while President of the Asia Area, worked closely with Brother Ng. In fact, Brother Ng was Elder de Jager’s Cantonese teacher. “He has great experience and wisdom and reaches out to people in a natural way. This was especially evident when Brother and Sister Ng were serving as temple missionaries in the Taipei Taiwan Temple, where they were of great help to the Cantonese-speaking members.”
Reaching out to people has always been one of Brother Ng’s talents. In fact, it was his willingness to serve others that put him in even closer contact with the missionaries. After ordering furniture for the mission home, Brother Ng agreed to help President Heaton find someone to teach Cantonese to the missionaries. He talked to several friends, but none of them could help. So he quit his job at the furniture store and taught the missionaries himself. Married and the father of four young children, Brother Ng took a cut in salary with the job change. But he believes it was well worth it.
“I learned the truth,” Brother Ng states simply. “That was a good deal, right? Nothing is more important than that.”
The men took turns learning and teaching. Brother Ng presented basic language lessons, and the missionaries taught gospel discussions. At that time, investigators were taught a total of 18 discussions, so Brother Ng went through several sets of missionaries before hearing all the lessons.
“It took quite a while,” he acknowledges, “but by the time I was baptized, all my questions were answered. I had a strong foundation and a strong testimony.”
Brother Ng was baptized on 31 May 1956. He was one of the first converts after missionary work resumed in Hong Kong following the Korean War.
But Brother Ng’s search for truth had started years earlier. His grandmother, a Buddhist, had begun attending Christian churches shortly before her death, and Brother Ng often accompanied her. “I was looking for a god who was different than the one I’d been taught about while growing up,” he remembers. “But the pastors and preachers at those meetings were difficult to approach, and they were more concerned with donations than with answering my questions.”
Brother Ng’s questions went unanswered until he met the missionaries. “From the beginning, I learned about our Father in Heaven and his son, Jesus Christ. The missionaries taught of our relationship to these beings. And they continually talked of being children of God,” he remembers.
The gospel changed Brother Ng’s life. “My wife tells me I was entirely different after joining the Church,” he says, laughing. “My temper became smooth. My finances were better because I paid tithing. I didn’t worry about food or shelter because I kept the commandments. A happy life followed.”
After seeing the difference the gospel made in her husband’s life, Sister Ng Pang Lai Har also investigated the gospel. Missionaries often visited their home, teaching her husband one of the new member lessons, then teaching her one of the 18 discussions.
Ten months after her husband’s baptism, Sister Ng was baptized. Brother Ng had the privilege of baptizing their seven children as they reached age eight.
Brother Ng’s family is important to him. His dark eyes sparkle as he speaks of the joys of being a husband, father, and grandfather. Highlights of Brother Ng’s life include the temple marriages of all seven children as well as the sealings of each of the children to him and his wife.
“We were not sealed to all our children at once,” he explains. “Traveling to the temple, either in Tokyo or in the United States, was very expensive.” After saving for years, Brother and Sister Ng were sealed in the Provo Temple in 1974. Subsequent temple trips have strengthened the couple’s dedication and commitment to temple work. From 1986 to 1987, they served as missionaries in the Taipei Taiwan Temple.
The high point of their temple service is their most recent calling—president and matron of the Hong Kong Temple, dedicated in May 1996.
“My wife and I were thrilled with the announcement of the temple. We were planning on becoming temple workers, maybe even working three or four times a week,” President Ng says. “We’ll work more than that now!
“I was frightened with the calling at first and very humbled. I had feelings of unworthiness. But after praying, I felt confident that Heavenly Father would give us the spiritual strength and guidance we need to fulfill this calling. We are so grateful for this opportunity.”
President Ng’s service in the Church actually began before his baptism. In addition to teaching the missionaries, he helped translate Church materials, and he was serving as an assistant in the branch Sunday School superintendency when he was baptized. Since his baptism, he has served at various times as branch president, district president, stake president, stake patriarch, counselor to the mission president, and regional representative.
To each calling, President Ng has brought a lively wit and loving warmth. Individuals matter to this leader, who hopes to see the Church grow in Hong Kong.
“There is much pressure and stress in life,” observes President Ng. Concerns about the future, coupled with materialism, which often exists in a growing economy, are challenges that members deal with daily. “Everyone is working so hard for money. We often spend so much time worrying about temporal things. The gospel brings a balance,” President Ng explains.
President and Sister Ng worked together to establish balance in their home. They worked out a plan and followed it closely. They emphasized wise use of financial resources, family unity, and Church activity. “We made time for our children, for each other, and for Church callings,” he continues. “People say they have no time, but that is just an excuse. They have the time for the things that are important in their lives.”
Another thing President Ng has always made time for is missionary work and watching the gospel affect others’ lives the way it has his own. He knows the impact of our knowledge of a loving Father and a worldwide family.
“We are all brothers and sisters,” testifies President Ng. “We need to share that knowledge with others so they can join our family and we can welcome them home.”

Before I joined the Church, I was living with my parents in the Freeport area of Monrovia, Liberia. In April 2010, my father passed away and I went to stay with his brother who was a member of the Church. Before inviting me, my uncle told me that he wanted me to attend his Church and if I was satisfied with it, I could continue attending. If I was not satisfied, he would not force me to attend. The first day I attended church, I was a little bit confused because of the way they worshipped. Many people came around me and smiled, spoke to me and were very friendly. At other churches I did not feel that friendliness.
The missionaries started teaching me and taught me about the Book of Mormon. They asked me to read, pray and ponder about it and ask Heavenly Father if this book is true. I did that. Later, they asked me to be baptized and I said yes. I got baptized in May 2013. My mother was Muslim, and she loved the Church. She came to my baptism so she could witness it.
In 2019, I came back to live with my mom in Freeport. Until 2021, I did not know that the Church was in my area. When I found it, I started worshipping again. They gave me a position as the female representative and that helped me feel involved.
Ever since I joined the Church, my dream has been to serve a mission. I want to be a missionary. I want to bring souls to Christ. I want to help gather scattered Israel.
My mom always wanted me to be a missionary. She wanted me to serve a mission before her passing. She passed away April 26, 2022. My dad died in the same month, 2010. That April was a challenging time for me, and I would never have made it if it wasn’t for the grace of Almighty God.
I told myself that I wanted to go on a mission by the end of 2023. So, little by little, with the help of my bishop and close friends, I processed my paperwork. My friend told me “You said you wanted to go on a mission by the end of 2023 and your wish came to pass.” I told him “No, it was the will of my Heavenly Father, He planned it.”
There was a sister in my ward who was about to leave on mission. She knew the importance of temple work and started asking about information on my mom because she wanted to do the temple work for her. I kindly told her that I wanted to do it myself.
When I went to the missionary training center, with the help of my MTC president and his wife, President Lords and Sister Lords, I got to do the temple work for my parents and seal them together. I was so excited! Some people ask if I’m doing the right thing for my parents since they were not married. I want them to learn about the gospel where they are. Then, they can be happy forever. And after this life, I will be able to meet them again. That is something I look forward to.

On the other hand, Jill and Kent Sorensen, who are from the same stake, say one of the best ways to strengthen their family has been to serve away from home. Sister Sorensen says, “One of the main excuses couples give for not going is grandkids, married children with struggles, daughters expecting babies, aging parents—you name it. Family is a priority, and you miss them every day. But going on a mission sends a powerful message that missionary work is important too.”
Besides, Elder Sorensen notes, “there are so many ways to keep in touch now that you can check in all the time.”
The Sorensens’ missionary journey began three years ago, when their bishop asked them to host monthly firesides for couples contemplating missionary service. “After talking about it constantly,” Sister Sorensen says, “we had to go ourselves!” They received a call to serve in the Cook Islands, where Jill’s grandparents served 50 years ago.
Today, among other duties, they are asked to teach Bible classes in schools.
“We talk about Christ being the rock,” Elder Sorensen says. “We give the students a small rock and encourage them to remain rock solid in Christ. Now everywhere we go, people say, ‘Rock solid!’ when they see us.”

I met B. J. the Saturday we moved to Pinedale. I was walking down the snowy street with my ice skates when a kid with glasses slipped and slid into me. He was chasing a fuzzy little dog.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling me up and brushing the snow off my pants. “Mrs. James’s dog, Snuggles, escaped from her apartment, and I told her I’d catch him. I’m B. J. Are you new around here?”
“Yeah. We just moved into that blue house,” I answered, pointing across the street. “I’m Jack.”
“Hi.” B. J. grinned, and I felt my mouth curve into a smile. He was a funny-looking kid with hair that stuck out from under his hat like straw, but his friendliness made me feel good. I didn’t know anyone else in the neighborhood yet.
“Do you like to ice skate?” I asked. “I’m going over to the rink.”
“Help me catch Snuggles,” B. J. said, “and I’ll show you the best ice in town.”
“Sure!”
“Come on then.” B. J. was already running down the street. “Snuggles always heads over to the flower shop. He has a crush on the poodle that lives there.”
B. J. cut down alleys and zigzagged through town as if he were in a maze. “I’ve lived here all my life,” he told me. “I know the best shortcuts.”
A few minutes later, we found Snuggles curled up in a furry ball against the flower shop door. B. J. scooped him up and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Sorry to interrupt your date,” he told Snuggles, “but Mrs. James is waiting for you.”
After we took the dog back and got B. J.’s skates, he led me to an awesome pond. The frozen surface looked as smooth as polished silver. Kids raced around it, their winter jackets blurs of bright colors.
“I usually skate here,” B. J. said as we sat down on a bench near a tiny building. “That’s the chalet for warming up. They sell snacks inside, too.”
After we laced our skates, B. J. introduced me to Mike, Leroy, and Jenna. He seemed to know the entire town. Before long, we were all playing tag, and I felt the sting of the icy cold air on my cheeks as I flew across the frozen pond.
B. J. had just tagged me when a little girl in a pink coat slipped and fell. She started to cry, and B. J. whipped over to help her up.
“Is this your sister?” I asked, skating up to them.
“No, it’s Emma,” he answered, holding her hand to steady her. “She hurt her knee. I’m going to take her inside and get her some hot chocolate.”
“Oh,” I said. “What about our game?”
“I’ll be back—go ahead and play.”
“Come on, Jack,” Mike hollered. “You’re it.” So I skated off to tag him. I figured Emma must be B. J.’s cousin or something like that. Why else would he take care of her?
Over the next few weeks, I got to know B. J. a lot better. He lived with his mother and sister in an apartment downtown. I could tell when I visited that they didn’t have much money. Nothing about the place was fancy, but B. J. didn’t mind and neither did I. His mom laughed all the time, and he was quickly becoming my best friend.
We both loved skating and collecting coins. We both built model airplanes, too. In fact, we got along great! But I couldn’t understand why B. J. did some of the crazy things he did—like letting Jenna play his trumpet solo in the Christmas program.
“Why did you let Jenna play the solo?” I asked him. “You were going to steal the show.”
“Jenna’s dad is coming to town just to see her,” he told me. “She’s really excited about it. He hasn’t been around much since her parents got divorced. It’s important to her.”
“But what about you?”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged. “Let’s finish our homework and go sledding. I’ll show you the hill we call Double-Decker.”
When we went sledding, he loaned his sled to a couple of boys who didn’t have one and doubled up with me. I didn’t bother to ask him why. Afterward we went for a snack to a little restaurant he knew about. Before we left, he swept the floor for the owner. “He has arthritis,” B. J. whispered to me, “and sweeping hurts his hands.”
On the way home, we passed a theater, and a man in a long robe stumbled and fell down in front of us. I helped him up. He had long brown hair, and he was wearing sandals in the snow. He looked like the paintings of Jesus Christ I had seen in Primary.
“Are you all right?” I asked. I knew he was an actor, but he looked so much like I thought Jesus must look that I wanted to help him as much as I could.
“I’m not used to wearing sandals,” he said, thanking me. “I have to go now. They’re waiting for me inside.”
“Have a good day,” I said as I watched him hurry inside.
“Did you see that actor?” I asked B. J. “I felt like I was helping Jesus.” B. J. smiled.
“Now you know my secret,” he said. “I always try to treat people as if they were Jesus Christ. Then it’s easy to help them, and I feel happy, too.”
That night, I thought a long time about what B. J. had said. Then I decided to get up early in the morning and shovel the sidewalks for my dad. He might wonder why I’m being so helpful, but now that B. J.’s secret is my secret, the idea makes perfect sense to me.

Many years ago I taught a prep course for English majors thinking about pursuing PhDs. One exceptionally gifted student, smart and diversely talented, completed the class requirements but seemed more interested in pursuing other opportunities. Several years later she contacted me and asked if we could talk. I invited her to my home and learned that she had gotten married, found herself living in places she hadn’t anticipated, and no longer felt as assured about following a lifelong career dream. She had explored other options, and nothing seemed right, so she was revisiting her original decision to not pursue a PhD. We began talking again about some of the items we had discussed in our prep class years before: the parts of a graduate school application, what kind of writing sample to use, what to emphasize in a letter of intent, and so forth. She diligently took a few notes. But I could sense in her feelings of uncertainty and unhappiness. Then the Spirit impressed me with a new thought. I told her not to worry about career tracks for a moment and reflect instead on her spiritual gifts. If she thought about pursuing a life most in keeping with those gifts, what kind of life would that be? The mood in the room instantly changed; she said she hadn’t thought about approaching her future with that question in mind. Later in the week, she sent me a note informing me that she had taken the question to heart, had found new clarity in her thinking, and now discerned a life and career path that seemed well-suited to her. Anxiety had given way to joy.

A short family history story illustrates this counsel.
Several months ago I read the testimony of my great-grandfather’s sister Elizabeth Staheli Walker. As a child, Elizabeth immigrated to America from Switzerland with her family.
After Elizabeth married, she and her husband and children lived in Utah near the Nevada border, where they ran a mail station. Their home was a stopping place for travelers. All day and all night they had to be ready to cook and serve meals for travelers. It was hard, exhausting work, and they had little rest. But the greatest thing that concerned Elizabeth was the conversation of the people they associated with.
Elizabeth said that up to this time she had always taken for granted that the Book of Mormon was true, that the Prophet Joseph Smith had been authorized of God to do what he did, and that his message was the plan of life and salvation. But the life she was experiencing was anything but what would strengthen such a belief.
Some of the travelers who stopped were well-read, educated, smart men, and always the talk around her table was that Joseph Smith was “a sly fraud” who had written the Book of Mormon himself and then distributed it to make money. They acted as if to think anything else was absurd, claiming “that Mormonism was bunk.”
All this talk made Elizabeth feel isolated and alone. There was no one to talk to, no time to even say her prayers—although she did pray as she worked. She was too frightened to say anything to those who ridiculed her religion. She said she didn’t know but what they were telling the truth, and she felt she could not have defended her belief if she had tried.
Later, Elizabeth and her family moved. Elizabeth said she had more time to think and was not so distracted all the time. She often went down in the cellar and prayed to Heavenly Father about what was troubling her—about the stories those seemingly smart men had told about the gospel being bunk and about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon.
One night Elizabeth had a dream. She said: “It seemed I was standing by a narrow wagon road, which led around by the foot of a low rolling hill; halfway up the hill I saw a man looking down and speaking, or seemed to be speaking, to a young man who was kneeling and leaning over a hole in the earth. His arms were stretched out, and it looked as if he was reaching for something from in the hole. I could see the lid of stone that seemed to have been taken off from the hole over which the boy was bending. On the road were many people, but none of them seemed to be at all interested in the two men on the hillside. There was something that came along with the dream that impressed me so strangely that I woke right up; … I could not tell my dream to anyone, but I seemed to be satisfied that it meant the angel Moroni [instructed] the boy Joseph at the time he got the plates.”
In the spring of 1893, Elizabeth went to Salt Lake City to the dedication of the temple. She described her experience: “In there I saw the same picture [that] I had seen in my dream; I think it was [a] colored-glass window. I feel satisfied that if I saw the Hill Cumorah itself, it would not look more real. I feel satisfied that I was shown in a dream a picture of the angel Moroni giving Joseph Smith the [gold] plates.”
Many years after having this dream and several months before she died at nearly age 88, Elizabeth received a powerful impression. She said, “The thought came to me as plain … as if someone had said to me, … ‘Do not bury your testimony in the ground.’”
Generations later, Elizabeth’s posterity continues to draw strength from her testimony. Like Elizabeth, we live in a world of many doubters and critics who ridicule and oppose the truths we hold dear. We may hear confusing stories and conflicting messages. Also like Elizabeth, we will have to do our best to hold on to whatever light and truth we currently have, especially in difficult circumstances. The answers to our prayers may not come dramatically, but we must find quiet moments to seek greater light and truth. And when we receive it, it is our responsibility to live it, to share it, and to defend it.

Thump! went the backpack on the living room end table. “Put your bag in your room, Petey!” Mother said as she rounded the corner, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Her smile faded as she noticed Peter’s somber face. “Are you OK?”
“I guess so.” Peter shrugged as he hung his coat on a hook by the door.
“Then why the glum face? Did you have a fight with Justin?”
“Well, no … It’s just that whenever I ask him to come to Primary with me, he says he’s too busy or has stuff to do or something. Why can’t I make him come? Primary is so cool!”
“Let’s sit down a minute,” Mother said, heading for the couch. She tossed the towel onto the end table next to Peter’s backpack. “Do you remember the eleventh article of faith?” she asked when they were seated. “I think that’s one you’ve already learned.”
“Hmmm, let me think.”
“‘We claim the privilege …’” she started him off.
“Oh, yeah! I remember now. That’s the one that says ‘how, where, or what they may.’”
“That’s right! It says, ‘We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship …’”
“‘how, where, or what they may!’” Peter finished proudly.
“That’s very good, Petey. But do you know what it means?”
Peter began to fidget on the couch.
Mother smiled thoughtfully. “Let me see if I can help. Remember last week, when Dad was out of town and we had that snowstorm?”
“Do I ever! We had to shovel the walks and driveway before school. It was a lot of work. And then the neighbor kids wanted to walk through the snow, so they tromped across our lawn, instead! What a waste of time!” Peter shook his head, remembering the footprints across the front lawn.
“Well, no it wasn’t,” Mother corrected gently. “Because our walks were clear, it was easy to get the car out to take you to school.”
“OK, OK.” Peter’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I still don’t get what that has to do with the eleventh article of faith—or Justin.”
“Well, we worked hard to clear a path in the snow—that’s what we wanted to do. It was important to us. But the neighborhood children chose to walk in the snow, instead—because that’s what was important to them. Right?”
“Right,” Peter said. “So what?”
“Well, you want Justin to go to Primary on Sunday because it’s important to you, right?”
“Oh. I think I get it,” Peter said slowly. “Even though I choose to go to Primary, that doesn’t mean that Justin has to, right?”
Mother smiled. “That’s right. Heavenly Father has given us a very precious gift called agency. It is the right to choose and act for ourselves. We can’t force someone to follow the same path we choose to follow. However, while you need to let Justin have his agency, it’s also very good for you to love him and be his friend. You can keep showing Justin the ‘clear path’ that’s important to you. And maybe—just maybe—he’ll want to follow it one day.”
As Peter grabbed his backpack and headed up the stairs, he turned and smiled. “I’m glad I have my agency so I can choose to go to Primary.”

Anne had lived in Japan only about a year. Today she was excited about going to her first Tanabata (Star Festival) party at the home of Masanari.
It was a rainy afternoon and Anne held up her umbrella as she splashed along through the puddles on the narrow lane.
The tiny trinket shop was selling gilt paper comets and streamers for Tanabata. Down the passageways between houses were trailing bamboo branches decorated for the Star Festival.
Masanari’s mother slid open the door of their house when Anne arrived.
“Irasshaimase, Anne-chan (Welcome, little Anne),” she said.
Anne sat down on a stone step in the entryway and tugged off her boots and shoes before entering the house.
Then she put on some tiny, pink slippers and flip-flopped down the hall. Her friends from school were all there. Keiko, Jiro, and Masanari sat on the woven tatami (straw) mat floor in the middle of a rainbow of colored papers making origami (paper folding) decorations for Tanabata. Some of the other mothers who had been invited, were busy making decorations too.
“Come, we’ll show you how, Anne-chan,” said Jiro’s mother as she finished folding a tiny red crab. First, she showed them how to make two familiar animals. (See page 31.)
1. Take a square of paper and fold the corners together.
2. Fold one corner down.
3. Fold the other corner down.
4. Fold the bottom and the top back.
5. Draw a few pencil lines for the face.
1. Take a square piece of paper and fold the corners together.
2. Fold tips down.
3. Fold one corner up.
4. Fold the other corner up.
5. Turn the paper over and draw a face.
The children folded red dogs and purple cats and blue dogs and orange cats. They drew happy faces on some and fierce faces on others.
“Have you sometimes heard insects screeching in the trees?” asked Jiro’s mother. “Those are cicadas. We can make origami cicadas too.”
1. Take a square piece of paper and fold the corners together.
2. Fold up the top flap first.
3. Then fold up the bottom flap.
4. Now it looks like this.
5. Turn it over and fold back the two sides.
6. Your completed cicada should look like this.
“Watch me fold an elephant,” said Jiro.
1. Fold two corners of a square of paper so that they meet in the center to form a kite shape.
2. Fold the kite shape in half down the center.
3. Fold the longest tip forward.
4. Then fold it back to the left.
5. Open out the inside corner of the top flap and spread it back.
6. Fold the top half down behind the figure.
7. Open out the tip of the elephant’s trunk and tuck it down inside itself.
8. Cut out the legs and tail and draw on tusks and eyes.
“Look at my lantern,” said Keiko.
1. Fold two sides of an oblong piece of paper in until they meet at the center.
2. Fold each corner forward to the center.
3. Fold the tips back.
4. Fold each corner forward again and then turn the paper over.
5. Gently push the top tip up and the bottom tip down and open them out.
6. This is what the lantern should look like.
“The most famous of all is the sacred crane,” said Jiro’s mother as she took a square of metallic gold paper. “The crane is a beautiful white bird with red-tipped head and black-edged wings. It comes every summer to our islands. To the Japanese it means long life and happiness.”
Her deft fingers worked faster than Anne could follow, making tiny, complicated folds. A delicate creature with graceful spreading wings was soon completed.
She set the lovely bird on the palm of her hand and held it out to Anne. “This is the orizuru or folded crane,” she said.
Keiko, too, worked very fast and knew many folds. Soon she had a great pile of origami figures spilling over her lap.
“Here, Anne-chan, take some of mine,” she said.
Origami cranes and turtles and canoes and frogs and lanterns covered the floor. Masanari’s mother entered with bamboo branches and helped the children tie their bright origami creations to the boughs.
“They are truly beautiful!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it fun to have Tanabata to celebrate every year?” Then, Masanari’s mother told them a legend of the stars.
“Up in the sky there are two sad stars who love each other very much, but they are separated by the heavenly river, the Milky Way. Only on this one night of all the year can they cross the Milky Way and meet.
“However, if it rains, then the Milky Way will be flooded, and the poor, lonely stars will not be able to meet after all,” she said as she cocked her head sadly.
Anne listened quietly to the story. She remembered the puddles in the lane and her wet umbrella drying in the entryway.
“I think it’s raining, Tanakasan, “she said somberly.
“But we can hope it will stop, can’t we?” said Jiro’s mother as she ushered everyone in to dinner.
They sat on cushions on the tatami-covered floor around a low-legged lacquer table. For the mothers there were hashi (chopsticks) to eat with. For the children there were hashi and big tablespoons.
They were served bowls filled with haddock and rice, fish soup, tofu (soy bean curd), sashimi (raw tuna), and little pickled salads. Gelatin from the sea and crushed pineapple and handsful of rice candy were served for dessert.
It was dark now, and as the children poured out of the house, Masanari shouted, “It’s stopped raining! It’s stopped raining!”
“Now the stars can meet after all!” cried Keiko.
There were green and blue and white sparklers for everyone. With the mothers’ help, the children lit the sparklers and swung them in the darkness, making circles, figure eights, spirals, and zigzags while they laughed and chattered.
When the sparklers were gone they took up their Tanabata branches. Holding them aloft, they waved them slowly against the night sky as they sang a farewell song.
“The party is over. Our Star Festival is ended,” said Tanakasan.
Masanari could not let the evening end just yet. “Let’s walk everyone home, Mama-san,” he begged.
When they reached Anne’s apartment, everyone bowed and said, “O yasumi nasai (Good night. Please rest).”

During their missions they saw each other quite often at conferences and activities. They enjoyed catching up and sharing news from their separate areas. They never dreamed that in November 2003 they would be assigned as companions. Their friendship bloomed into a relationship that will last forever. They have gone from being friends to sisters in the gospel to missionary companions.
Sister Valeria Pontelli says, “At first I was afraid that working together might damage our friendship, but that fear faded the first day. This chance to work together has only strengthened our relationship, and our friendship has helped us in the work.”
Others agree. One woman, who used to be less active but has come back to church because of the efforts of these two missionaries, says, “You can’t help but love them because you can see the love they feel for each other and for everyone around them. They are my angels.”

Thirteen-year-old Tyler Neel remembered seeing police officers in the United States giving teddy bears and toys to abandoned children. But, most of all, he remembered the joy and comfort the toys brought to those children. Now a Lone Scout in South Africa, Tyler decided to bring joy to some of the many abandoned and sick children in his area. He organized volunteers from his ward to help, and he was able to give 66 teddy bears to the children at the Cotlands Baby Sanctuary.
“It made me feel good. The kids were having lots of fun with them, hugging them, tying ribbons around their heads, and climbing all over me!”

Prayer has been and is the ever-present anchor for strength and a source of direction in our family activities. I remember kneeling at the bedside of our young children, helping them with prayers in their younger years, and later seeing the older brothers and sisters helping the younger ones. We had family prayer night and morning, with children given the opportunity to lead, and had special prayers to meet particular problems. Mention was made in family prayer, for instance, of children with assignments such as a 2 1/2-minute talk in Sunday School or a new teaching assignment in the MIA. We asked for help when one of the children faced a difficult examination in high school. Special mention was made of members of the family away at girls’ camp, Scout camp, school, or working. This special mention of particular concerns in our family prayers gave confidence, assurance, and strength to members of the family facing difficult problems and assignments.

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

Even though it was a hot July day, Mary Elizabeth Rollins and her sister Caroline lay shivering on top of several large pieces of paper. The thick rows of five- and six-foot-high corn hid the two girls from the angry men who were hunting for them. The girls held their breath, praying for the men to stop their search and leave the cornfield.
It was 1833, and there was a lot of unrest in Independence, Missouri. More and more converts had settled in the area, and nonmember neighbors wanted the Saints to leave Jackson County. Instead, the little community was growing. There was even a printing press in Brother William Phelps’s house, and the whole town knew that he was printing revelations received by the Prophet Joseph Smith and preparing them for publication.
It was some of those very revelations that the girls were lying on. A mob of angry men had become outraged at an editorial written by Brother Phelps that was printed in the Church newspaper. Fifteen-year-old Mary Elizabeth and thirteen-year-old Caroline had watched as the men broke into the Phelps’s home and threw the printing press and the printed revelations from the second-story window to the ground below. When Mary Elizabeth saw the papers hit the street, she knew what had to be done. She knew that those revelations and commandments came from the Lord and that it was important that the Saints have copies of them.
Even though they were frightened, both girls ran and gathered up as many of the large papers as they could carry. When members of the mob spotted them from the window and yelled at them to stop, the girls ran to the nearby cornfield, lay down on the sheets of paper, and prayed for protection.
It seemed like hours before the men grew tired of looking for the girls, but finally they left. Mary Elizabeth and Caroline waited a bit longer before gathering up the sacred papers and creeping out of their hiding place.
The revelations were returned to Brother Phelps. Shortly afterward, those salvaged pages were combined with other pages that had been saved, and a tiny book called the Book of Commandments was printed. Two years later those same commandments and revelations were combined with additional revelations from the Lord and printed in a new book. Whenever they read the Doctrine and Covenants, Mary Elizabeth and Caroline remembered the part that they played in the coming forth of this sacred book of scripture.

A couple of years ago, when I turned 12, I was invited to attend my first Aaronic Priesthood quorum overnight camp. This was a long-awaited invitation, as my father was a quorum leader and often went camping with the boys in the ward, while I was left at home.
When the day came, I was excited. And I must admit that I desperately wanted to fit in with the older boys. I was determined to prove myself. In that effort it wasn’t long before I was tested to see if I would play along and be part of the group.
My assigned task was to get my father’s car keys so a prank could be pulled on the leaders. I don’t remember exactly what I said to convince my dad, but I soon ran to the group of boys with keys in hand, proud of my accomplishment.
Then came the next assignment. I was to unlock the car door and wedge a stick between the driver’s seat-back and the car horn. And I was to lock the door so the horn would blare into the evening without any way for the leaders to access the car to remove the crude device.
Now, this is where the story turns painfully embarrassing for me. Once I secured the stick in place, I locked the door and ran as fast as I could to hide in a nearby patch of bushes. As I crouched down to the ground, I felt a searing pain. In the darkness and in my haste, I had sat upon a prickly pear cactus.
My screams of pain were drowned out by the blaring horn, and I had no recourse other than gingerly hobbling back to the car, confessing my “sins,” and seeking rudimentary and embarrassing medical attention.
The remainder of that night, I lay on my stomach in a tent while my father, using pliers, removed the cactus spines from my … well, let me just say that I did not sit comfortably for several days afterward.
I have reflected on that experience many times. I can now laugh at the folly of my youth, even as some underlying principles have become clear to me.

It was the fifth period of my first day in high school. That meant biology, and as I sat down on my hard plastic chair, I recognized one of the boys at my lab table as Casey, the school’s best water polo player. I couldn’t believe I had a class with Casey!
The two boys on my left looked familiar too—I had seen them hanging around with the mob of baseball players during lunch. The last member of our little biology “team” was Mike, scholar-athlete of the year and an important contributor to both the volleyball and tennis teams. I felt like I was sitting among the who’s who list of our high school athletes.
I soon discovered that popularity and athletic prowess weren’t very good indicators of character. Surprise! The boys were nice to people, but the crude way they talked made me squirm in my seat.
At first I was rather timid, afraid to speak up to these “big men on campus,” but as the school year progressed I voiced my discomfort more and more often. They just laughed good-naturedly at my protests.
One day, out of the blue, Miles—one of the baseball players—turned his freckled face toward me and asked, “Kim, are you Mormon?” I was completely taken aback. Where had that question come from?
“Yes, why?” I asked. Miles just shrugged his shoulders and said matter-of-factly, “I don’t know. It’s just that you can always tell when a girl is Mormon.”
Now I was even more perplexed. I knew that I had the gospel in my life and that it set me apart from the rest of the world. But I didn’t think I acted noticeably different from any of the other girls in my class.
“How can you tell?” I asked, really wanting to know.
The other guys at the table were leaning forward, listening intently and murmuring in agreement. “I don’t know,” Miles said. “You can just tell when a girl is Mormon. They’re different.” All of the baseball caps bobbed up and down in unanimous assent.
Miles never said whether being able to tell a girl was LDS was a good thing or a bad thing—it was just a fact. I took it as a compliment that my behavior set me apart as a member of Christ’s church. From then on, I have tried to live my life so that people will realize there is something different about me because I’m a Mormon.

“We could not have hoped for a better assignment,” said former President McReynolds. “It was great to be going back to the British Isles.” President Stuart and Sister Sheryl McReynolds led the England Manchester Mission from July 2017 to July 2020.
President McReynolds grew up in Leicestershire and Sister McReynolds was born in North Wales. Later, Sister McReynolds lived on the Isle of Man for a short time but spent most of her growing up years in London. At the time of their call, it had been 20 years since they lived permanently in the United Kingdom.
Sister McReynolds hadn’t served a full-time mission when she was young, so the prospect of serving as a mission president’s wife was a bit daunting, and she felt inadequate in many ways. “Yet, I knew I wouldn’t be transferred, or get a new companion, so I hoped we would get on all right,” she said light-heartedly. “But the opportunity to be together, that was a real privilege – just wonderful.”
“When I didn’t know what to do, or I thought I couldn’t do something that needed to be done, I realised that the Lord carries you when you do His work,” she said. “I think intellectually I knew this, but I’ve seen it so much more on a day-to-day basis than I ever had in the past.”
One highlight for the McReynolds was seeing the strength and personal growth of more than 550 missionaries from all over the world, giving their best to share a message about hope in Jesus Christ. They were from over 60 countries including: Madagascar, Eswatini, Lithuania, Curaçao, Japan and others.
When compared with the mission he served as a young man, President McReynolds was pleased to see a substantial increase in the number of sister missionaries serving. Nearly half of the missionaries in the Manchester mission were women. He said this created a balance of perspective and leadership in the mission, including new positions for sister-trainer leaders. Both were also amazed at how quickly they would come to love each elder and sister.
“We had been told that we would have instant and deep love for them,” she said. “But it was when we had been there just nine days, and about 24 missionaries were leaving for home, I realised how strong this love would be. It nearly broke my heart to say goodbye. Perhaps this is a blessing of the calling and comes when you are set apart – your capacity to love is expanded.”
“We have found that this love doesn’t really leave you,” President McReynolds said. “While we have only been back at home a short time, we still think about them, talk about them, worry about them and wonder how we can help them.”
The McReynolds saw quiet miracles take place in the mission. During one transfer, a missionary from South Africa who spoke Zulu, was sent to an area in the mission where a family of five from Africa would be taught the gospel. “It wasn’t that the family couldn’t speak English, but they saw it as a miracle—getting their very own Zulu-speaking missionary,” President McReynolds said.
They also witnessed tender mercies in the lives of the missionaries themselves. “It was lovely to see a missionary, who had the gospel all of their life; allow the gospel into their life,” Sister McReynolds said. “Suddenly it starts to click and come together on their mission and then you see them change and progress as they learn to rely more on the Saviour and on Heavenly Father more than on themselves or their parents.”
At a production of “Our Story Goes On,” they were also able to see awareness of the Church grow with civic leaders. She recalled meeting a local mayor and his wife at the event. “Afterward, when the musical had finished, he and his wife, especially him, were in floods of tears. He said, ‘I’ve never felt anything like this.’ It was as if he had a better understanding of gospel principles and indirectly, the plan of salvation. Perhaps in the future, this could lead to an increase in positive support.”
The restrictions surrounding COVID-19 changed the way missionary work could be done. “The pandemic was a considerable challenge for us as mission leaders, and as missionaries. Staying at home, staying in place, and adjusting everything that we did,” President McReynolds said. “It created a need to rethink how missionary work could continue virtually. We had always done everything face to face, yet we all know how powerful technology and social media tools can be. Online missionary work became a massive pivot for the mission. I think we made good progress, as we were able to find people, continue to teach and later baptise.”
In March, everything was being cancelled including the mission’s upcoming ‘Why I Believe’ devotional, featuring the conversion stories of new members of the Church. It was decided to take a leap of faith and hold it online. This was a big undertaking to make sure that the programme would be uplifting and inspirational, without the distractions online meetings sometimes have when technology fails.
“We saw the Lord’s hand in that first one,” said Sister McReynolds. “Because of COVID-19, we were all in separate locations, and it honestly shouldn’t have come together as nicely as it did.”
Typically, the in-person monthly devotional saw an attendance of anywhere from 250 to 550 people, depending on the location. With the move to online, an estimated 4,000 people have tuned in each month.
“While we did the devotional together as a mission, the missionaries were likewise adapting their own sphere of responsibility,” said President McReynolds. Asking questions like, “How do I adapt finding? How do I adapt my teaching? How do I adapt working with members, by using all these online tools?”
The mission also began using Zoom-conference calls, to reach out to individual missionaries for interviews, and for training and mission-wide calls which typically took place three times a week. “I really think it united the mission in a way that we hadn’t had before,” said Sister McReynolds. “They were interacting with others in breakout rooms, meeting fellow missionaries that they had never met before. It was a huge blessing and created a feeling that we were all in this together.”
The McReynolds’ aim was that all the missionaries would: first, be leaders and govern themselves; second, immerse themselves in Preach My Gospel, the guide to missionary service; and third, become Christlike missionaries. “We felt that becoming a Preach My Gospel Missionary or a Christlike missionary would not come until they really understood that they were agents to act, and truly govern themselves,” President McReynolds said. “Our dearest hope was that their conversion to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and [to] Jesus Christ Himself would become deeper and deeper.”
President McReynolds shared a scripture in the Book of Mormon that summarised his and Sister McReynolds’ experience in the mission field as it relates to each other and the missionaries of the England Manchester Mission: “Nevertheless they did fast and pray oft, and did wax stronger and stronger in their humility, and firmer and firmer in the faith of Christ, unto the filling their souls with joy and consolation, yea, even to the purifying and the sanctification of their hearts, which sanctification cometh because of their yielding their hearts unto God. (Helaman 3:35)
“Humility is not something the world ever puts in the same sentence as strength, and in these assignments, you learn that, number one, they’re just humbling and in that humility, there is strength,” he said. President McReynolds attested that he and his wife had themselves become “firmer and firmer in the faith” as they served in this assignment. For them, it was indeed a case of, “Filling their souls and our souls with joy—lots of joy.”
“Yeah, been an amazing three years,” Sister McReynolds said. “I don’t think we’ll ever be the same again.”

Years ago, following a graduate school discussion on American religious history, a fellow student asked me, “Why have the Latter-day Saints not adopted the cross that other Christians use as a symbol of their faith?”
Inasmuch as such questions about the cross are often a question about our commitment to Christ, I immediately told him that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints considers the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ to be the central fact, the crucial foundation, the chief doctrine, and the ultimate expression of divine love in God’s grand plan for the salvation of His children. I explained that the saving grace inherent in that act was essential for and universally gifted to the entire human family from Adam and Eve to the end of the world. I quoted the Prophet Joseph Smith, who said, “All … things which pertain to our religion are only appendages” to the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
Then I read him what Nephi had written 600 years before Jesus’s birth: “And … the angel spake unto me … , saying: Look! And I looked and beheld the Lamb of God, … [who] was lifted up upon the cross and slain for the sins of the world.”
With my “love, share, and invite” zeal now kicking into high gear, I kept reading! To the Nephites in the New World the resurrected Christ said, “My Father sent me that I might be lifted up upon the cross; … that I might draw all men unto me, … and for this cause have I been lifted up.”
I was about to quote the Apostle Paul when I noticed that my friend’s eyes were starting to glaze over. A quick look at his wristwatch apparently reminded him that he needed to be somewhere—anywhere—and he dashed off to his fictitious appointment. Thus ended our conversation.