Gospel Story Finder

You may have heard of Elder Green, as he has accumulated some fame during his two years of full-time missionary service as one of the first service missionaries in the UK. Despite this, he is a very humble young man.
Missionary service has had its challenges for Elder Green. But his mission has been a transformative experience, changing forever the life of Elder Green and his family.
In those two years (half of which was during the COVID-19 lockdown), Elder Green served at the Batley Food Bank. Not only did he help in the food bank, but also in the collecting of and shopping for food and items they needed. In his last year, he also volunteered at the Oxfam warehouse, in addition to his Church callings with young single adults and as a Young Men’s advisor. Oxfam have offered him a full-time paying job now that he has ended his service mission.
His greatest love was the BillionGraves project, and in his last three months he felt he could achieve the transcribing goal of 100,000 graves. When he reported at the end of his mission on 8 January 2023, he had transcribed 112,000 graves. Even though he has finished his mission, he plans to continue this work.

Some households, of course, did not have enough girls to do all the spinning and sewing that was necessary for the members of the household, or perhaps the mother was dead, or perhaps she was ill for an extended period. In that event, the custom was to invite a neighbor girl to join the household. Some experienced girls, who were 14, 15, or 16, earned some income by spending time at households—helping with the sewing task. Louisa Chamberlain, who lived in Cedar City in the 1860s, was an example of these. Her mother had fallen in love with another man and left her, an only child, to care for her aged father when she was seven. She fed him, kept him clean, and cheered him when he was downcast—the epitome of the “poor little match girl.” Her father died when she was 13, and from that age, to use her words, she “just lived … wherever I could find work.” A slight, quick-moving girl, she took her spinning wheel with her. When her spinning hours were over, she helped in the kitchen.

I had the same problem of trying to get away from friends who smoked and used foul language. I soon realized that if I didn’t stop hanging around them, they might influence me to be like them. I got into youth groups, did service projects, and talked to other people. By doing this, people realized how friendly I was and wanted to become friends with me. My old friends seemed mad at me and called me a traitor. I told them what my beliefs were and why I didn’t want to be with them. Surprisingly, they understood and respected me for it. I think you need to understand who you are, and if you stay around these people who do things you don’t like, the only one you’re offending is yourself.
Sarah Sansom, 15Hilbert, Wisconsin

President Gordon B. Hinckley recounted this childhood experience: “When I was a boy I raised a question with my father … concerning the expenditure of Church funds. He reminded me that mine is the God-given obligation to pay my tithes and offerings. When I do so, [my father said,] that which I give is no longer mine. It belongs to the Lord to whom I consecrate it.” His father added: “What the authorities of the Church do with it need not concern [you, Gordon]. They are answerable to the Lord, who will require an accounting at their hands.”

The main physical goal I’ve had over the past few years has been to run in a mountain race near Colorado Springs. It is called the Pikes Peak Ascent and is a 13.32-mile race up the Pikes Peak mountain trail. The elevation gain is 7,815 feet and the finish is at approximately 14,050 feet, with the average grade being 11 percent. I love this race and have competed in it 13 of the past 16 years. I give credit to Jim Lamph, who encouraged me repeatedly to try it, and to Shane Cole for running it with me.

The first year I didn’t know what to expect, so I trained hard, running on dirt roads around Rexburg and on treadmills at a steep incline for hours each week. My focus was to be able to finish the race and to put my whole heart into it. It seemed to be on my mind every day as I made decisions on the best way to train and how to be healthy. My eating habits improved as did my sleep patterns. I trained the best way I knew how up until the week of the race. When we finally arrived in Manitou Springs and I looked up at the mountain from the starting line, it was hard to fathom that the next morning we would be running up the trail, all the way to the summit. This picture shows the starting line with me and Shane getting ready to run. Five minutes before the gun start, they had a performer sing “America the Beautiful,” and as I listened I imagined the view from the top that had inspired Katharine Lee to pen the words to the song. About four hours later I finished the race and took in the fabulous view. I was thrilled and happy and completely satisfied with my best efforts, even though I had walked some of the steeper parts and was far behind the overall winner.

Being in high school can make living the gospel pretty difficult; at least, it seemed that way to me. There were very few members at my school, and I just didn’t seem to get along with them very well. The group of friends that I usually hung out with was far from “the right kind of friends,” but I really seemed to get along with them.
Soon, I started to fall away from the gospel and my Heavenly Father. I stopped attending church and Mutual activities and started using bad language. I eventually realized that I needed to change—I needed to become the kind of young woman Heavenly Father wants me to be. But I doubted that I could actually be forgiven for turning my back on the gospel and on Heavenly Father.
Then I remembered the story about the adulteress from John 8; she had committed one of the worst sins possible, but Christ invited her to repent. I realized that if repentance and forgiveness were possible for her, then I could also repent and be forgiven. That night I knelt down and prayed—for the first time in a long time—asking for Heavenly Father to forgive me. I was immediately wrapped in warmth.
I know now that repentance is possible. Satan will constantly try to make us believe that we can’t be forgiven, but I know from personal experience that this is wrong. Repentance can be incredibly difficult, but Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to return to Him. He wants us to be the best we can be, and He will do anything He can to help us if we let Him into our lives.

Countless are the acts of service provided by the vast army of Relief Society visiting teachers. A few years ago I heard of two of them who aided a grieving widow, Angela, the granddaughter of a cousin of mine. Angela’s husband and a friend of his had gone snowmobiling and had become victims of suffocation through a snowslide. Each of them left a pregnant wife—in Angela’s case, their first child, and in the other case, a wife not only expecting a child but also the mother of a toddler. In the funeral held for Angela’s husband, the bishop reported that upon hearing of the tragic accident, he had gone immediately to Angela’s home. Almost as soon as he arrived, the doorbell sounded. The door was opened, and there stood Angela’s two visiting teachers. The bishop said he watched as they so sincerely expressed to Angela their love and compassion. The three women cried together, and it was apparent that these two fine visiting teachers cared deeply about Angela. As perhaps only women can, they gently indicated—without being asked—exactly what help they would be providing. That they would be close by as long as Angela needed them was obvious. The bishop expressed his deep gratitude in knowing they would be a real source of comfort to her in the days ahead.

I have anxiety, so I go to therapy every week. In the first few sessions, I avoided talking to my therapist about my beliefs. I’ve been bullied for being different, and I was afraid of being vulnerable again.
Last January, though, my dad traveled from California, USA, to New Mexico, USA, to ordain me to the office of a teacher. My parents are divorced, so my therapist wondered why my dad would come 1,000 miles to see me and my brothers for only a couple of days.
I thought, “OK, here it goes!” I explained that my dad ordained me to the priesthood and how special that is.
That opened up the floodgates! We started talking more openly about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I found out she has relatives who are members of the Church. She told me that hearing my beliefs and experiences helps her understand the Church better.
There’s no amazing conversion story that’s come out of this. My therapist isn’t interested in joining the Church. But it’s big for me—talking with my therapist has given me the confidence to not stay quiet about what I believe.
I used to be afraid of talking about religion, but with lots of practice, I can just jump straight into it. I have no doubt that Heavenly Father has a work for me to do. My work may be different from what other people are doing, but who else can share the gospel with the people I know, like my therapist? That’s my work.
We were all placed on this earth to learn and to grow. We can be Heavenly Father’s hands as we love other people and plant little gospel seeds in their hearts. So, whenever a missionary opportunity comes up, I take it because I feel the Spirit with me—and I love every minute of it.

I first finished Personal Progress right before the new value, Virtue, came out. My Young Women leaders encouraged me to wait to get my Young Womanhood Recognition until I completed the new value, so I agreed to do so. I had no idea what was in store for me. We received the new booklet, I completed the Virtue experiences, and then I saw the Virtue project: read the entire Book of Mormon. I hate to admit it, but I had never read the Book of Mormon cover to cover. This was my new challenge for the year.
Over the year, I read the Book of Mormon from beginning to end. When I completed my reading, my testimony had grown so much! The stories came alive, and reading the scriptures gave me a lot of spiritual advice. I encourage everyone to read it, discover for yourself the blessings, and help your testimony grow. It will change your life. Even if you just read for a set number of minutes every day, you will learn so much. After receiving my Young Womanhood Recognition, I decided I would wear my necklace every day to remind myself of the promises and covenants I have made with Heavenly Father and the many things I learned from reading the Book of Mormon. I am so thankful that my Young Women leaders encouraged me to complete the Virtue value. I hope you will take the challenge to read the Book of Mormon and let it touch your life.

My mom always calls me a Last-days Kid. She says it as a compliment whenever I’m especially good. Or she’ll say it to prompt me when she knows that I can do better. Sometimes she calls me that to reassure me that I can do a difficult task: “Sure you can give that talk in front of the whole ward at the Scout banquet, Ryan. You’re a Last-days Kid.”
What it means is that I’m probably one of the really good spirits chosen to be born during the last days. And it’s not just me. Mom says lots of children born now are special kids. She volunteered to help out in my fourth grade class once a week, and she continually marveled at how bright we all were. “Of course, you might all be Last-days Kids,” she’d say.
I asked her if everybody in my class could be Last-days Kids. “I thought it was only kids in our church,” I said.
“No,” Mom answered. “Any child born now, whether to LDS parents or not, might have been saved to come forth at this time. You could all be Last-days Kids.”
Suddenly I didn’t seem so special anymore. Then I thought of Kevin, my best friend. If he was a Last-days Kid, too, maybe he’d like to come to Primary with me. I’d love it if he’d join the Church. I’m the only boy in my Primary class. Lisa and Tina-Marie are OK, but I’d sure like to have a buddy in there. So I told Kevin a little about maybe being a Last-days Kid and asked him if he’d like to go to Primary with me. But he said he had other things to do on Sunday. I said, “Some other time, maybe.”
“Well, maybe,” he said, “but probably not.”
I could tell that he hoped I’d drop the subject. I felt really stupid, because I figured that he’d start to tease me about being a Last-days Kid.
Sure enough, he did. At our next soccer game we were down three to one at the half, and our coach, Gracie Gosney’s dad, was trying to inspire us to be a come-back team. “You can do it,” he said as we all sucked on the oranges the trainer had passed out. But from the looks on all of our faces, it was obvious that nobody believed that we had a chance.
Then Kevin poked me in the side and said, “Maybe we could come back and win this game if some of us are Last-days Kids!” Then he started giggling.
“What are you talking about?” Coach asked.
“Ask Ryan. It’s something they teach in his church,” Kevin said.
I stared at the ground and said, “Some of the children on the earth today were saved to be born now, because they were valiant spirits in heaven. So, Last-days Kids are special.” I said it as quickly as I could, hoping the referee would blow her whistle before anyone could laugh.
Coach didn’t understand what I was talking about, but he said, “You mean that you believe that you’re special, Ryan?”
“Probably.”
“And do you believe some of the players on our team are Last-days Kids?”
I looked him right in the eye, and I could tell by his voice and face that he wasn’t teasing me, that he really wanted to know. “Yes,” I said louder. “At least, we could be.”
“I think you’re right.” He smiled. “Let’s go out there and play like Last-days Kids!” He gave us a cheer, and we all cheered back. “Last-days Kids! Last-days Kids! Last-days Kids!” we chanted as we ran out onto the field. The other team and all the parents stared at us, trying to figure out what we were saying.
We won the game, four to three, and I kicked in one of the goals myself! After the game Gracie walked over to me. “Tell me some more about your church, Ryan,” she said.
I told her about the Articles of Faith, which is what Sister Adams says that we should do if someone wants to know what the Church teaches. But Gracie didn’t seem to understand them at all, so I started telling her about Primary.
“Can any kid go to Primary, or just kids in your church?” she asked.
“Anybody who wants to,” I answered. She just stood there, waiting, so I took a deep breath and asked, “Would you like to go to Primary with me tomorrow?”
She smiled a big smile. “I’ll ask my dad.”
Oh, brother! Another girl! I thought. I was glad that Gracie wanted to go to church, but why hadn’t Kevin reacted like this? Gracie’s father said that it was OK for her to go with me, so I told him what time Primary started and when I’d pick her up. She drove off, waving at me from the window of her dad’s van.
That night Mom and Dad came into my room for my prayers. When I was done, Mom kissed my cheek and said, “We’re really proud of our missionary.”
“Don’t be,” I said.
“Why?” Dad asked.
“Because I wasn’t really a missionary to Gracie. She practically had to beg me to invite her to Primary. I didn’t want another girl in my class—I wanted Kevin to come. Why didn’t he want to go to Primary and learn more about the gospel?”
“Even Last-days Kids have their free agency,” Mom said. “Don’t give up on Kevin yet. And don’t stop being his friend just because he isn’t interested in going to church with you.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said.
“Good.” Dad smiled. “I’m proud of you.” And he kissed me good night.
Our lesson in Primary the next day was about the Word of Wisdom. Gracie sat and listened hard to everything Sister Adams said. Lisa and Tina-Marie were quiet too. It was a good lesson. After Primary Mom asked Gracie if she wanted to go home.
“Are you going home?” she asked.
“No. We’re going to stay for sacrament meeting,” Mom answered. “But if you’d like to go home now, I’ll take you.”
“Am I allowed to go to sacrament meeting?” Gracie asked.
“Of course,” Mom answered.
“Then I’d like to stay, please,” Gracie said.
Dad squeezed my arm, his smile almost too big for his face.
After church we dropped Gracie off at her house. “See you at soccer practice,” she said as she hopped out of the car.
“Will you need a ride to church next Sunday?” Dad asked.
“No. I don’t think so.” The whole mood in the car went down like a flat tire on a bicycle. Then Gracie leaned in through my open window. “Last night Mom and Dad and I had a big talk. Mom’s been wanting to find a church to go to ever since we moved here. And Dad said that he’s always been impressed with Ryan. So they said that if I liked your church, next Sunday they’d go with me.”

The large classroom in the hospital for crippled children is full of children and laughter and clowns with rainbow-colored wigs and giant smiles.
The children have already laughed and shouted through exploding balloons and fun games. Now it’s time for clown bowling. The clowns are the bowling pins. A nurse is invited to bowl. She successfully aims a large ball at the clowns. But it never makes contact because the clowns jump and twist out of the way.
Now a little girl tries. Sitting in her wheelchair, she pushes the ball at the clowns as hard as she can, but it dribbles weakly off her lap and barely reaches the human bowling pins. The little bowler sighs, underestimating clown magic. As the ball gently nudges the foremost clown he hurls backwards as if struck by a truck, knocking down a second clown who ricochets into a third. The whole clown pile explodes like a grenade and falls apart, vanquished. The children cheer. When clowns are present, children always win.
When this day’s performance ends, the clowns move among the patients, making balloon animals and objects—dogs, cats, swords, giraffes, airplanes. They’ll try anything the children request, and even the failures are good fun. They also draw clown stars on the children’s faces.
All too soon the good times must end. The nurses who have laughed and cheered right along with their patients begin taking them away for medical treatment. The children devise delaying tactics, stretching out the farewell moment as long as they can. One little girl hugs a clown tight, then looks into his eyes. “I love you, clown,” she says. Finally, all the good-byes are said. The children go back to their rooms, feeling as if they have been touched by some special magic.

Later on I realized how hard it frequently is for some people to give up something they really love and enjoy. I have always loved sports and particularly enjoyed playing handball with my brother David. One day I came off a handball court perspiring heavily and with my face flushed. A nonmember friend of mine, Dr. Plummer, was standing near my locker. He looked at me and said, “Brother Joseph, if you don’t stop that, one of these days you will drop dead on the floor, just as So-and-so did.”
It was hard for me. Every day I wanted to play some handball. Whenever I would look out my office window, I’d see the Deseret Gym next door and want to go and play. But I kept my resolve. I visited Dr. Plummer a short time later, and he said, “Brother Joseph, are you still playing handball?”
I said, “Doctor, when you told me to quit, I quit, and I have never been back on the court.” That seemed to please him very much, but my teammates were very upset. They came to me and said, “We need you. You are breaking up our foursome.”
“I am sorry,” I said, “but I am through.” I enjoyed that game more than I can say. I almost hungered to play, but I had learned that it was not good for me at my age. At that time I gained a little more perspective on how difficult it is for converts to give up some activity or habit they may have enjoyed for many years prior to baptism.
I’ve learned from my own experience that when you want to change, really want to change, you can do it. Our conscience and the scriptures tell us what to live by—and they tell us what habits we should change for our eternal welfare and progress.

Many young children look forward to the day they’ll be able to serve a mission. However, some young men and women must come to terms with disappointment when they find that a teaching mission is not possible due to their health. Others face the same challenges when they fall ill during their missions and have to return home early.
Recent changes to the missionary program now make it possible for all worthy young men (18–25 years old) and young women (19–29) to serve a mission regardless of their physical, emotional or mental health.
Under the direction of The First Presidency, the Melbourne and Brisbane missions in Australia are part of a pilot program that integrates service missions for young people with teaching missions. This allows them to join around 180 other missionaries under the same mission president.
In their daily work, service missionaries work with charitable organisations, Church operations, and within the community.
Paul Thomas, president of the Australia Melbourne Mission also implements the same key measures with his service missionaries as he does with the teaching missionaries:
Regular interviews with the mission president
Personal scripture study challenges, Zoom meetings for Preach My Gospel, and prayer meetings
Accompanying the teaching missionaries as they teach the gospel
Sharing meals with other missionaries in someone’s home
Joining in preparation day activities with other elders and sisters in their district
Attending zone conferences
“When service missionaries are included and know how to be involved in the mission, that is the most powerful message,” President Thomas says. “This approach can be a huge blessing to families who know that their prospective missionaries can serve in many of the same ways that teaching missionaries do.”
Elder Domonic McKendry, a 23-year-old Melbourne missionary, has loved these experiences. He is excited about these changes and is grateful to be included. It has given him a greater sense of purpose. “I have learnt there are always new skills to learn and new outcomes to come.”
Some of his daily service includes weeding, planting, and beautifying the grounds at the Melbourne Australia Temple. Elder McKendry also works at a local charity, serving meals to individuals going through hard times, including some experiencing homelessness.
“It’s a very good mission to learn a lot about yourself and know your true potential.”

About 11 o’clock we drove up to the home of Mons Andersen, and out came Sister Christine Andersen to bid us welcome and put her arms around us one by one and kiss the rest of them. When my turn came, that was something I was not used to, so I didn’t know what to do. For some reason I didn’t run away. A host of neighbor children and aged folks came around us and shook hands with us. I guess they bid us welcome, for I could not understand a word of English. The children were at Sunday School but soon arrived home. They also kissed us welcome, and by that time I was kind of getting used to it. But they surely made us feel at home.
There was another striking thing that helped me on my way toward investigation. It was just when lots of fruit was ripe, such as strawberries, gooseberries, and early apples. Those who have met Sister Andersen know what a loving disposition she had. She said, “Go out and help yourselves.” If it had not been for her loving way, I could barely have thought she meant it. But she surely did. It was something different to what it was in Norway. I was getting closer to joining the church.
Now I hadn’t had time to think of what to do to earn a living in a strange land with a strange language. On Friday morning, July 26, 1872, there came a man to the house of Mons Andersen who wanted a boy to help him in the field. His name was Peter Petersen. My wages were $8.00 a month. I worked with him 20 months. I must now tell a little that happened in that time. It was customary at that time that newcomers should be rebaptized. So Peter Petersen’s wife, Karen Larsen Petersen, told me, “There will be baptisms today. So you must hitch up the horses and take these people down to the mill pond to be baptized. And you must be baptized too.” I told her I would be glad to take them down, but I was not ready for baptism yet.
That coming winter I started to go to school so I could learn a little English. I had also gone with Mons Andersen’s boys to Sunday School. Eischa Pack was the teacher at that time. They were reading in turns out of the Bible; but when it came my turn to read, Brother Pack would read my verse, and there was not even a moment wasted. I was glad although I could not understand what they said. Yet I got to enjoying Sunday School. Sister Karen Larsen Petersen became sick and died on February 7, 1873, and that ended my schooling at that time. But I learned enough so I got into the Third Reader.
Now I had been studying the gospel and praying about it. I knew Jesus’s answer to Nicodemus as we find recorded in the third chapter of John: “Except a man is born of water and of the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” [John 3:5] So on August 30, 1873, I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by Mons Andersen and confirmed by Abraham Lossee in Lehi.

“Dad was on his first mission and was the mission secretary in charge of the travel preparations for the missionaries in Europe. When it came time for him and his companions to leave, he booked their passage on the big “unsinkable” ocean liner, the Titanic. However, one of the boys could not go then so Dad changed their departure date. When the boys heard that the Titanic had sunk, they all knelt down and thanked the Lord for preserving them.”

Several months ago a friend and I had the opportunity of presenting a set of scriptures to an associate who is not a member of the Church. Knowing that this might be a life-changing event for him—and for us—we took the time to have his name embossed on each volume. As we presented these sacred records to him, we could tell he was deeply moved by the significance and sincerity of our offering. For several minutes he examined each book without speaking, rubbing his hand on the cover and turning some of the pages.
Recognizing the importance of the moment, we helped him turn to the title page of the Book of Mormon and began to explain that the Book of Mormon was another testament, or witness, of Jesus Christ. He then asked a question that all missionary-minded members are anxious to hear: “Why do we need additional witnesses of Jesus Christ other than the Bible?” Rather than responding quickly, we asked him why he thought this might be important. His answer seemed even more inspired than his question. He suggested that since there appeared to be so many variations of the Bible and its teachings, we needed some kind of clarifying voice, something that would help us understand the Bible better. His observation opened the door for us to share our feelings and testimonies regarding both the Bible and the Book of Mormon.
We began by expressing our devotion and deep conviction to the doctrines and teachings of the Bible, especially the New Testament. Being able to read many of the Savior’s words as He taught the gospel during His earthly ministry strengthens us, helps us come to know Him, and teaches us that we can become more like Him. We then declared that, like the Bible, the Book of Mormon is additional evidence that God loves all of His children and has provided a way for us to return and live with Him once again. We spent the next hour or so reviewing many aspects of the Book of Mormon, including its history and divine origin. Allow me to share a few of the things we discussed.
We first explained that the Book of Mormon is a book with a promise. Although its history is compelling by itself, it is a book of scriptural significance that should be received and read under the influence of the Holy Ghost. All who study and ponder its teachings are given a promise found in the last chapter of Moroni (see Moroni 10:3–4) as well as in the introduction to the Book of Mormon, where we read: “We invite all men [and women] everywhere to read the Book of Mormon, to ponder in their hearts the message it contains, and then to ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ if the book is true. Those who pursue this course and ask in faith will gain a testimony of its truth and divinity by the power of the Holy Ghost.” We then spent several minutes teaching about prayer and how the Holy Ghost can speak to our hearts and confirm that the Book of Mormon is true.
Next we stated that the Book of Mormon is a book with a purpose. From the title page we read that the Book of Mormon was “written by way of commandment” and “by the spirit of prophecy and of revelation” to “come forth by the gift and power of God” to the convincing of each of us “that Jesus is the Christ, the Eternal God.” In a personal expression of this purpose, Nephi, as one of the authors of the Book of Mormon, wrote, “The fulness of mine intent is that I may persuade men to come unto the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, and be saved” (1 Nephi 6:4).
Additionally, we explained that the Book of Mormon is a book that teaches “the great plan of happiness” (Alma 42:8; see also vv. 5, 13, 31; 2 Nephi 9). In profound yet understandable terms, the Book of Mormon teaches the purpose of life, from whence we came, and what happens when we die. We learn of faith in Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice, of repentance, of the importance of baptism by immersion, and of the gift and power of the Holy Ghost. By studying and feasting upon the doctrines of the Book of Mormon, we gain “a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men,” with a desire to “endure to the end” that we may “have eternal life” (2 Nephi 31:20).
Most importantly, we declared that the Book of Mormon is a book that testifies that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior of the world. Great prophets throughout the Book of Mormon have borne solemn witness that Jesus Christ is the Creator of the earth (see Mosiah 3:8), the Redeemer of mankind (see Helaman 5:9–12), the Only Begotten of the Father (see 1 Nephi 11:18–21; Jacob 4:11). These Book of Mormon prophets knew Him, as Abraham and Moses did, and received and taught His everlasting gospel. As we read and study their words, we gain a deeper understanding of the Savior’s matchless love, His perfect life and example, and the blessings of His great atoning sacrifice.
We then testified that the Book of Mormon is tangible evidence that Joseph Smith was chosen by the hand of the Lord to restore the Church of Jesus Christ to the earth in these latter days. As stated in the introduction to the Book of Mormon, “Those who gain [a] divine witness from the Holy Spirit [of the divinity of the Book of Mormon] will also come to know by the same power that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world, that Joseph Smith is his revelator and prophet in these last days, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the Lord’s kingdom once again established on the earth.”
Ever since Samuel Smith set out to preach the gospel with a few first-edition copies, the Book of Mormon has blessed the lives of millions around the world. I pray that we will continue to use the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ to share the gospel message with family and friends. If we do this, as was the case with our dear friend, many will respond with great interest to know more about the life and mission of the Savior and His great plan of happiness for each of us.
I express my solemn witness that the Book of Mormon is true. It is a book that has brought about a mighty change in my life. I know that God lives. Jesus is the Christ. His gospel has been restored to the earth. President Thomas S. Monson is His prophet and living oracle at this time. The spirit I feel as I daily read, ponder, and pray about the Book of Mormon strengthens my understanding and testimony of these things and reaffirms to me that they are true. I humbly share this testimony and my personal witness with you in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Keeping a journal is not easy. We often tell ourselves that we are too busy or too tired or that our lives aren’t exciting enough to write about. I realized a few years ago that journal-keeping wasn’t meant to be hard and that I could grow to love it.
I began by writing one thing a day. It didn’t matter if it was really long or exciting; I just wrote whatever was on my mind or whatever had happened that day. It has already blessed my life.
One day someone in my family was struggling and I wasn’t sure what to say to her, but then I was prompted to read her one of my journal entries. I was able to share a little piece of me that I had recorded in that little black journal, and I saw the way that it helped lighten her heart.
I guarantee if you will start by writing one thing down a day, it will bless your life. No matter how small or how big, writing down the blessings in your life can help you to remember them.
Gentry W., Utah, USA

Recently a father of a family of six children, who has had the sole responsibility for raising the family, beginning when the youngest was in diapers, told of the struggles in raising the family alone. One night he came home from work, faced with the problems of being both father and mother and felt unusually burdened with his responsibilities. One of his appreciative little girls, age 12 years, approached him eagerly, after having laid a rock on his dresser, which she had painted at school. On the flat portion of the rock she had written, “Happiness is having a dad who cares.” This painted rock and its sublime message instantly and permanently lightened the burden of this father.

He, among the many that I have talked to, was not surprised at his call. It's one of the interesting common elements in the lives of most of our patriarchs that at some point in their lives there is a premonition, a herald, a whispering—this calling will come to you." I know even of one case where the General Authority walked in on a brother the morning of a Sunday and said, "Do you know why you're here?" And he replied, "Yes." "Are you willing?" "Yes." "Sit down." And he put his hands on him and ordained him a patriarch. He knew in advance.

This year’s homecoming royalty at BYU is symbolic of the seventy countries represented at that school. The queen Michiko Nakamura is from Tokyo, Japan. Her attendants are Ruth Ann Brown, a Navajo Indian from Window Rock, Arizona, and Jana Rae Warren from Spanish Fork, Utah.
Michiko called her mother in Japan after being named queen. “We don’t have homecoming queens in Japan, so my mother didn’t even know what I was talking about. I told her to go to church and ask the American missionaries what it was.”
Michiko, a convert of seven years, will ultimately return to Japan to teach dance. “We don’t have modern dance over there, and it would be neat if I could pioneer in that field in Japan.”