Gospel Story Finder

Beth Tracy accepted a call to serve in the Los Angeles California Stake Primary with apprehension. As a convert to the Church who had never attended Primary and had served mostly with adults, Beth wondered, “What can I offer to children?” But through substitute teaching in a nursery, encouraging other Primary leaders who were also feeling inadequate, and learning to love children of many nationalities, she found satisfaction and joy—the results of Christlike service to her fellow beings (see Mosiah 2:17).

I remember a particular period of my life when I was under unusual stress. There were troubles with my employment, and at the same time my wife was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. This was one of those times when it felt like the adversary had mounted a frontal assault against me and my family. On days when the stresses and anxieties of our tumultuous life were about to get the best of us, my wife and I found a way to relieve them.
We drove to a place just a few miles from our home to get away for a few moments of relief from our troubles, talk, and give emotional comfort to each other. Our place was Walden Pond. It was a beautiful little pond surrounded by forests of trees. When my wife was feeling strong enough, we’d go for a walk around the pond. Other days, when she did not feel up to the exertion of walking, we’d just sit in the car and talk. Walden Pond was our special place to pause, reflect, and heal. Perhaps it was partly due to its history—its connection to the efforts of Henry David Thoreau to separate himself from worldliness for a period of years—that Walden Pond offered us so much hope for simplicity and provided such a renewing escape from our overly complex lives.

In the state of Utah, it is not unusual to have towns named after people in the Book of Mormon. I heard of a tourist couple who were driving through Utah and commenting on the unusual names of the towns. As they saw Nephi on the map, the wife said, “Do you suppose that is Nep-high?” Her husband responded, “Perhaps Neffy,” They decided to stop for lunch, and when they were finished, the gentleman asked one of the workers, “Tell us how to pronounce the name of this place.” The worker responded, “Burger King.”

My coach taught me a great lesson in my early development as a gymnast. I was leaving for my first national team training camp. Before I traveled to the camp, my coach told me only one thing. He didn’t tell me to learn any new maneuvers at the camp. He didn’t tell me to try to perform my routines better than the rest of the team. He told me that when I returned from that training camp that he wanted to hear me tell him, with all honesty, that I had worked harder than anyone else on the national team.
So I remember making it a point to be the last one out of the gym every day; and that didn’t mean just waiting at the door for everyone else to leave! Also, I remember that at night, when some team members would occasionally relax with their pizza and beer, I would go back to my room and do more exercises.
When I returned home two weeks later, I was proud to tell my coach, “Yes, I worked harder than everyone else.” I didn’t work twice as hard, just a little bit harder. But it was enough to help me to improve greatly. Sometimes, just a little bit is all that matters.

His acquaintance with the Church began in 1962, when Mensah was introduced to the Church by an English woman named Lilian Emily Clark. After reading about Dr. Mensah’s appeal for support in a local magazine, she wanted to help. Emily never joined the Church, but she did have Church literature and books she was no longer using that had been given to her by sister missionaries while she lived in Cornwall, England.
Acclaimed as a “highly spiritual man who could heal people’s ailments with prayers”1 Mensah soon persuaded others to join him in organizing the Church. In Ghana, however, building up a congregation presented a financial challenge for Mensah’s group. He prayed in faith but had no success. The kind of assistance needed was not forthcoming from the Church. God had another plan for this small group.
In 1964, Joseph William Billy Johnson joined Mensah’s group. Johnson was a captain of the Army of Jesus in the Aladura Church, a position equivalent to the calling of an elders quorum president in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. That year, an associate gave him some Church tracts. After reading them, Johnson began sharing the gospel with others and he wrote to Church headquarters. “He received from President David O. McKay [1873-1970] encouragement to continue studying the scriptures and to be patient and faithful until missionaries could be sent to Africa.”2
How these two religious leaders came to agreement to work together organizing such an unfamiliar church is linked to a miraculous event.
Six months before meeting with Johnson, Mensah had a dream that someone named Johnson would be able to help establish the Church. Mensah became aware of Johnson through his brother, Isaac Mensah, after Johnson had given him financial assistance through his position of captain. After Mensah’s dream, he invited Johnson to meet with him in his home.
According to Johnson, Mensah “asked me to pray with him so that the Lord might sustain the LDS Mission in Ghana because he had been facing trials since he started the work.”3 While praying, Johnson had a vision in which he saw an unfamiliar book—the Book of Mormon. When he asked about the book, Mensah pulled out a Book of Mormon from under the bed in the room where they had prayed.
As Johnson recognized the book in his vision, they both experienced a rich outpouring of the Spirit of God. Johnson accepted a gift of a Book of Mormon and the invitation to help build the Church while receiving continuing revelation that what he was doing was truly the Lord’s will.
Despite achieving success in growing their congregation while waiting on the Church to be officially recognized in Ghana, problems within the leadership threatened the church because Mensah continued to teach protestant doctrine while Johnson did not. Johnson, wanting to teach the gospel as taught by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, found most of their church members agreed with him.
Seeing the leadership begin to sway towards Johnson, Mensah demanded he should leave and “never come to the church again.”4 When Johnson left, most of the congregation followed him and Mensah joined with a Pentecostal group. They temporarily reunited to keep the converts together and in 1969 Johnson left to establish his own congregation of converts in Cape Coast.
On June 8, 1978, President Spencer W. Kimball (1894-1987) extended priesthood ordination to all worthy males regardless of race. On December 9, 1978, Johnson, Mensah, and other pioneers were baptized into the Church. The next day the Cape Coast Branch was organized with J.W.B. Johnson as branch president.

We had a strong group of young men in our ward, but our son Matthew gravitated to a nonmember who shared his love for cars and anything mechanical. Unfortunately, this young man came from a family that did not value religion. His parents allowed drinking and smoking in their home and didn’t believe that being morally clean was important.
Matthew had earned the top rank in Scouting, but he did not participate in the awards meeting because he had stopped living Scouting standards. I gathered all his Scouting awards and made a display case. Then I put it away, hoping that one day it would be of value to him. By the time he was 16, Matthew was smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. He dropped out of school and moved in with his girlfriend. For a couple of years, we rarely saw him.
We were devastated. We didn’t know if he would ever return to his family and faith, but we decided to follow Alma’s example in dealing with his wayward son. Alma continued to love his son and prayed with faith that he would “be brought to the knowledge of the truth” (Mosiah 27:14).
We prayed constantly that the Lord would intervene in Matthew’s life, and we took every opportunity to express by word and action how much we loved him. When he would come home, we did not say anything he might interpret as criticism or judgment. We simply expressed our joy at seeing him.
One day Matthew came home and said he wanted to talk. He said he had met a girl at a party who had questions about the Church. Before he could tell her that he no longer knew the answers, words started coming out of his mouth. He found himself answering her questions as fast as she asked them. Matthew said he did not remember having learned the things he spoke, but he knew his words were true. He wondered why he was living as he was when he still believed the gospel.
After three days of soul-searching, he decided to leave behind the life he had been leading. He had come home to ask for help in starting over.
Matthew called a cousin in another state who had overcome similar difficulties and asked if he could stay with him. His cousin agreed, and Matthew began attending Church meetings with him and met with the bishop to get help with the repentance process. He felt love and support and became active in the Church.
In time he met a lovely, righteous young woman. They fell in love and were married in the temple.
When their first child was born, I came for a visit and brought the display case I had made of his Scouting awards. He was thrilled and proudly hung it in a prominent place in his home.
An angel did not appear to our son, as had happened to Alma the Younger. But Matthew’s return to the truth was just as miraculous.

What better place to first observe and then serve than in the home? An example from the life of Elder Richard G. Scott illustrates:
“One night our little son Richard, who had a heart problem, awoke crying. … Normally my wife always got up to take care of a crying baby, but this time I said, ‘I’ll take care of him.’
“Because of his problem, when he began to cry, his little heart would pound very rapidly. He would throw up and soil the bed clothing. That night I held him very close to try to calm his racing heart and stop his crying as I changed his clothes and put on new bedsheets. I held him until he went to sleep. I didn’t know then that just a few months later he would pass away. I will always remember holding him in my arms in the middle of that night.”13
Jesus said, “Whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister.”14

In February 2016, the full-time missionaries began visiting us. At first Pat thought they were coming over to help on the farm. When we accepted an invitation for them to teach us, he thought the lessons were just for the children.
As the missionaries were preparing to teach us their first lesson, Pat went out to work on the tractor. After about 20 minutes, I could see that they—two sisters and two elders—were deflated. At that moment, I felt that I should get Pat and ask him to come listen for a couple of minutes.
Later the missionaries told me that they had been praying that that’s what I would do. They knew that Pat needed to hear what they were teaching.
After the missionaries had taught us for several weeks, Jesse, Bo, and Frank wanted to be baptized. Pat thought that was great, but he felt that he was “beyond salvation.” That was before he met Von and Glenda Memory and heard Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles speak during general conference.
When we saw Brother Memory at church, I recognized him from when I was a child. He was now serving as the ward mission leader. Pat introduced himself, telling Brother Memory that he really wanted the Church for our children.
“That sounds good,” Brother Memory said with a twinkle in his eye. “We’ll do it for the children.”
A few weeks later, after a lesson from the missionaries on the plan of salvation, Brother Memory said, “Boys, we’re going to talk about your baptism.” Then he added, “And then we’re going to talk about your dad’s baptism.”
Pat said OK, but his doubts about his readiness and worthiness persisted until general conference that April.
“You may be afraid, angry, grieving, or tortured by doubt,” Elder Uchtdorf said in his talk. “But just as the Good Shepherd finds His lost sheep, if you will only lift up your heart to the Savior of the world, He will find you.”1
Pat said: “Before then, it hadn’t occurred to me that I really could be a part of this, that I was worthy of salvation. But after listening to Elder Uchtdorf, it hit me that it wasn’t too late for me. I actually have a shot to get to heaven. I had never felt anything like that. From then on I knew. This is the Savior’s Church. We found it. I got baptized and received the priesthood. A week later I baptized my boys. When our girls were old enough, I baptized them.”
A year later, we were sealed in the Birmingham Alabama Temple.

We just had a zone conference at the Peter Whitmer farm, where the Church was organized in 1830. Our mission president talked about the first missionary of the restored Church, Samuel Smith. He was Joseph Smith’s younger brother and about the same age as most of the missionaries in our zone.
Just after the Church was organized, Samuel took a few copies of the Book of Mormon and went out to preach the gospel. Nobody believed him, and he was frustrated, just as we are sometimes. He left a Book of Mormon with Reverend Greene, a methodist minister, and it was passed on to a carpenter who studied it and was baptized. Samuel Smith didn’t think that his mission was a success, but that carpenter was Brigham Young! So sometimes great results come from what seems like an unimportant incident.

May I close by bearing you my personal testimony regarding home teaching. I can remember, as if it were yesterday, growing up as a young boy in Whitney, Idaho. We were a farm family, and when we boys were out working in the field, I remember Father calling to us in a shrill voice from the barnyard: “Tie up your teams, boys, and come on in. The ward teachers are here.” Regardless of what we were doing, that was the signal to assemble in the sitting room to hear the ward teachers.
These two faithful priesthood bearers would come each month either by foot or by horseback. We always knew they would come. I can’t remember one miss. And we would have a great visit. They would stand behind a chair and talk to the family. They would go around the circle and ask each child how he or she was doing and if we were doing our duty. Sometimes Mother and Father would prime us before the ward teachers came so we would have the right answers. But it was an important time for us as a family. They always had a message, and it was always a good one.
We have refined home teaching a lot since those early days in Whitney. But it is still basically the same. The same principles are involved: caring, reaching out, teaching by the Spirit, leaving an important message each month, and having a concern and love for each member of the family.

In 1976 Elder Robert C. Oaks, then a colonel in the United States Air Force, was a member of the Incidents at Sea negotiating team. They were guests at a dinner hosted by the Leningrad Naval District. About 50 senior officers of the Soviet Union and the United States were present as the host led the group in toasts before dinner. They stood for the first toast and raised their glasses, most of which were filled with Russian vodka. Brother Oaks had pink lemonade in his glass, which was immediately noticed by the admiral leading the toast. He stopped and demanded that Brother Oaks fill his glass with vodka, stating that he would not proceed until he had done so. Brother Oaks declined, explaining that he was happy with what he had in his glass.

A significant tension began to build, and even his own team members, most of whom were senior to him, were growing uneasy over the impasse. Brother Oaks’s Soviet escort hissed in his ear, “Fill your glass with vodka!” Brother Oaks uttered the shortest prayer of his life: “God, help me!”

Within seconds, the Soviet interpreter, an army captain with whom he had previously discussed religion, whispered to the host admiral, “It is because of his religion.” The admiral nodded his head, the tension immediately diffused, and the program moved on.

Elder Oaks had decided years before that he would never drink alcohol, and so in the moment of trial he did not have to make this choice again. Elder Oaks was convinced that more harm would have come to him if he had compromised a tenet of his faith than the harm that would have come from drinking the vodka. Incidentally, adhering to his religious principles did not hurt his career. After this incident he went on to become a four-star general.

Elder David Antonio Parada and Elder Sergio Saavedra turn the corner and start up the next street in a busy neighborhood in San Salvador. Children are chasing each other. A dog is barking. Women and girls pass by with loads of food or laundry on their heads. Radios tuned to various stations are blaring from open windows, each playing music with energetic Latin rhythms.
Just as the elders reach the red house, the novios (an engaged couple) arrive from the other direction for their appointment. They invite the missionaries into their house and arrange the chairs into a circle. After prayer, the girl disappears into another room and comes back with the copy of the Book of Mormon.
“Have you been praying?” Elder Parada asks. The girl nods. “Have you been reading the Book of Mormon?” Yes, they read their assignment in 3 Nephi 11 [3 Ne. 11]. “Wonderful! Keep reading and praying about it, and you’ll know by the power of the Holy Ghost that it is true.”
The lesson is on the plan of salvation. Elder Parada takes his ball-point pen apart. “Our bodies are like this pen’s outer shell,” he says, “and our spirit are like this inner part with the ink.” Using this simple visual aid, he explains death and resurrection. When the girl asks a question, Elder Parada answers with verses from his well-marked scriptures.
Then Elder Saavedra takes his turn teaching. Both missionaries seem completely at home here; neither is hampered by language or cultural distractions. The girl’s mother, who has been outside washing clothes, comes in and overhears part of the discussion. A rooster outside starts crowing, and a couple of chickens walk past the open door. A breeze blows lightly through the open window and rustles the curtain that serves as a door into the back room. The discussion proceeds smoothly. As the missionaries prepare to leave, the mother smiles and comes over to shake their hands. She says she might come to church with the novios tomorrow.
Elder Parada and Elder Saavedra say good-bye to the novios and walk back down the street. “It’s beautiful to see that pair of elders working together,” their mission president later comments. Elder Parada comes from an extremely humble background, the son of a field worker; his junior companion, Elder Saavedra, is the son of the Mexican consul to El Salvador. One worked for years in the fields to save money for his mission; the other left cars and stereos behind. Now they’re a team—humble, confident, articulate.
They cross a ravine on a swinging footbridge. Then, turning the corner, they start up the next street in another neighborhood of San Salvador.

My aunt went through a divorce when only her oldest son had been baptized. To maintain a peaceful relationship with her children’s biological father, she wanted to get his permission for their other children to be baptized. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t give permission for many years.

My aunt finally decided that she wanted to have the children baptized despite their dad’s not approving. But after my aunt and cousins fasted and prayed about the decision, everyone received the impression that they should continue to wait.

That same week, my cousins’ biological father told my aunt that he wanted the children to meet with the missionaries and be baptized. I still remember the joy I felt when my mom told me the news. I knew that Heavenly Father had blessed my cousins after many years of patiently waiting.

We may not always know when the Lord will answer our prayers, but I know that He always will. I don’t know why Heavenly Father wanted my cousins to wait to be baptized, but I do know that He blessed them because of their faithfulness.
Bre J., Florida, USA

“My brother Brady and I didn’t have a bad relationship. The problem was, we didn’t have a relationship at all. Involvement in school and with my friends meant everything. I never spent any time with him. When I heard about the experiment, I immediately thought of Brady, and after praying about it I was sure he was the one. At first it was a chore; then it became a little easier; then I realized he is fun! I just had to make the first move. Now he comes to invite me to do things with him.”—Brittany Brammer

“I was born and grew up in the community of Tooele, Utah, where my father managed a newspaper. As a youth, I worked at the newspaper office and also helped take care of the family cows. My brother, Joel, and I had the responsibility of not only taking care of our cows but, during the summer, also gathering our neighbor’s cows and taking them to the fields on the edge of town to graze on the grass. This is how I made my first money. Later, my brother and I worked on a eight-hectare farm on the edge of town which the family owned. We were teenagers and my father wanted to keep us busy.
“One day a neighbor came to Father carrying a list of things we were doing wrong on the farm. After the neighbor finished reading the list aloud, Father sat back in his chair, looked at him, and said, ‘Well, Jim, you don’t understand. I’m raising boys and not cows.’”

That’s when I started exercising. I do sit-ups, and I run in place until I collapse from exhaustion. I try to run the illness out of me. I am not going to let it beat me without a fight. Maybe it can destroy my body, but not me, not what I am inside. I am going to run and leave the cancer behind. I am going to make myself so healthy that nothing bad can stand to be in me.
I fall down often while I am jogging and running in place, and I sometimes think that I can’t keep it up. I pity myself for a few minutes, and then I get mad at myself, and finally I get back up. Sometimes I can only walk until I build up enough strength to run again.
The other day when one of the nurses at Emory took my pulse, she was a little surprised. “What have you been doing?” she asked me. “I’ve never seen a pulse like this in anyone but professional runners.”
I told her I am a professional runner. She laughed, but I was serious. It is a race between me and the cancer. We haven’t reached the finish line, and in a lot of ways I am wearing down, but I am still running, and I’m not about to stop. …

Kaylan J., a 17-year-old from Montana, knew that the only grocery store in his small town of 1,700 people would be cleared out quickly in the event of a major disaster. Nobody he asked had any real food storage. If anything, they seemed confused when he brought up the concept. “I’ve always been nervous for my community that way,” says Kaylan.
So Kaylan, who comes from a farming family, decided to give his community a huge jump-start on food storage. His father generously donated 12 acres of land for Kaylan’s Eagle Scout project—12 acres that Kaylan would plant, grow, harvest, and ultimately can as wheat for the entire community. “My goal was to produce over 1,000 cans,” Kaylan explains.
As the project unfolded, many of Kaylan’s friends, most of whom are not members of the Church, began seeing the importance of food storage—which was his goal all along. “I hoped to not only immediately help the people but also maybe spark the idea for food storage,” Kaylan says.
In the end, Kaylan and 35 volunteers canned and boxed 1,002 five-pound cans of wheat, all of which are now stored under the high school gymnasium floor until needed. With enough wheat in each can to make six loaves of bread, his work can feed 1,000 people for approximately one month.
“It worked out awesome,” Kaylan says of the project. “It puts my mind at ease a little.”
Photographs © iStockphoto/Thinkstock, courtesy of Kaylan J.

Photograph courtesy of the author; illustration by Jennifer M. Potter
Illustration by Jennifer M. Potter
I used to spend summers traveling through Europe with a dance team. Our audiences, performances, and energy levels varied, but we had one tradition that always stayed the same: we closed every show by singing “God Be with You Till We Meet Again”1 in the language of the country we were visiting. Because most of my dance team belonged to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we loved this tradition. It was a wonderful way to connect with our audiences and share Heavenly Father’s love.
Near the end of one of these trips, we had just crossed the border into Germany and were practicing the song in German for upcoming performances. But upon arriving, we found out that this particular region of Germany spoke Sorbian, a dialect that bore little resemblance to the song we had so faithfully practiced.
On the bus ride to our performance, I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep for the whole drive. But our directors had other ideas. They had asked our guides to translate the hymn into Sorbian. Now they wanted the entire bus of half-asleep performers to learn the song just hours before our performance.
We did our best. At the end of the show, we stood together on the front of the stage and began to sing. I remember feeling surprised as the unfamiliar words I had jumbled a few hours earlier came to my mind easily. I felt my earlier doubts about our readiness to sing fade as I relied on the Spirit to remind me of the words.
As we finished dancing and began to sing, the Spirit brought the words of the song to my mind.
Photograph courtesy of the author
The audience members looked surprised and then thrilled. When the song ended, a hush fell over the crowd. Then they stood and began singing a song back to us, which they later explained was a song of gratitude they usually saved for special occasions.
I felt the Spirit so strongly in that moment, even though I couldn’t understand what they were singing. I was so grateful the Lord had helped me communicate His love despite my feelings of inadequacy. I was reminded that Heavenly Father’s love is a universal message. Despite whatever differences we might have, all of us can understand the language of the Spirit.

The Savior taught that the first and great commandment is to love God and that the second, which “is like unto it,” is to love our neighbor (see Matthew 22:37–39). The Four Corners area—where Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah come together—is home to the Navajo Nation, a place where, for Latter-day Saints, “love God” and “love your neighbor” have become a way of life. Here’s what some Church members in the area have to say about living the second great commandment.
Yellowman family
“People like being included. They just need to be invited.”
The home of Tom and Gina Yellowman, in Kirtland, New Mexico, is a place where friends and neighbors gather regularly for dinners. “But there’s a catch,” Gina says as she, her son, and her daughter prepare fry bread in the kitchen. “You can only come if you bring someone from your ward who hasn’t been attending church or someone, member or not, who needs a friend.”
She explains: “We kept meeting people who felt isolated. So we decided to have a barbecue where they could get to know others. For example, my niece came. She’s a high school volleyball coach, and a couple of her players and their families came too. Two of the girls on the team hadn’t realized before that they are both members of the Church.
“And there are people who live across the river on the reservation, but they didn’t know each other. When they came here, they figured out, ‘Hey, we’re neighbors,’ and now they have friends nearby who share the same standards, people they can turn to for help or just to borrow a potato because they live far from the grocery store. That was our goal—to bring people together so they can support each other.”
“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat” (Matthew 25:35).
The Yellowmans say that the dinners are an extension of a family tradition of providing food to others. Tom explains: “It started one night when we took our children out for hamburgers. We didn’t have a lot of money, so it was a special treat. When we got there, we saw some homeless people in the parking lot. We bought a couple of extra meals and let the kids hand them the food.”
After that, each Christmas season the family prepared small bags of food to give to people without a home. Extended family members joined in, so did friends, and soon they were distributing 75 to 100 bags in Farmington and Shiprock.
“When my kids and their cousins hand out these bags,” Tom says, “they tell people how grateful they are to be able to give them food.”
“One man even asked us to pray with him,” says Toma, Tom and Gina’s 22-year-old son. “That made the experience particularly meaningful to me.”
“We grow to love those whom we serve.”
The Yellowmans also know that loving your neighbor starts with loving your family. That includes Sister Yellowman’s father, Wallace Thompson, who lives in an outbuilding next to the family home. Daughter Tayla, age 27, says she likes having her acheii (maternal grandfather) nearby. “He’s helped me to learn about our native language,” she says. “I’ve also gotten to know him as a person. He’s such a character! He’s got his own style of humor. He’s also very direct, so be ready for that. But it’s been a blessing to really get to know him.”
Trevor, a 19-year-old son, says he helped care for acheii after he had open-heart surgery. “He didn’t have full use of his hands, and he couldn’t reach his back,” Trevor says. “So I helped him to bathe.” As he served his grandfather, a bond of love grew between them.

Recently a man told how he became lost in the middle of a ward with 500 members: “My wife and I had our first contact with the Church when two sweet, spiritual missionaries called. They came, they taught, they converted. We literally lived off their spirit. Like many converts know, the first thing after you are baptized, those two wonderful elders are transferred.

“It was extremely difficult for us to keep that same spirit. We felt we could not go it alone. We withdrew from Church activity. My wife told the visiting teachers not to come back, and the home teachers were asked to leave us alone.

“I suppose in the elders quorum one morning they discussed some ‘lost’ brethren who needed to be ‘found.’ Yes, I was lost. One day there came a knock at our front door. As I opened it, I saw a young, smiling, freckled-faced man who said he was the elders quorum president and asked if he could talk to me for a few minutes.

“In the coming weeks he came many times to bring us vegetables from his garden, eggs from his chickens, a birthday card for our daughter. Sometimes he came just to talk. He got me involved in the sports program. He even apologized for anyone who may have hurt our feelings. What did he do that got us back? He loved us. He was sincere. He cared. He gave me his personal testimony. He helped me to search my soul. He helped me to pray to my Father in heaven.

“For the love this man gave my family, we will be eternally grateful. The Lord has poured out his blessings on us. We have been to the temple of the Lord and sealed for eternity. We have returned to the temple many times and gained further light and knowledge promised to us.

“I am now working with this elders quorum president as his counselor. My wife is teaching Primary and is a visiting teacher. I was lost, but because someone cared, someone took time, someone took the risk of showing his love and concern, I was found and was able to lead my family back to the Lord.” He went on to say, “I plead with all members of the Church to look around and help guide lost children back to their Heavenly Father.”