Gospel Story Finder

One day I went for a stroll with my two daughters, aged three and four. We walked by beautiful homes and gardens with flowers of spectacular colors. We saw tall trees with disorderly wildflowers clustered around them, which were lovely, too.
Then the girls saw some dandelions that were blooming like small bright suns. They each picked one. To their disappointment, the yellow blossoms soon withered into grey shadows.
“Why did you pick them?” I asked, thinking it was time for a lesson.
“Because they were so pretty!” both cried.
“Are they pretty now?”
“No,” answered my older daughter. “Throw them away!”
I explained that it’s best to admire nature without interfering. When living things are rooted up, they weaken and die. The girls understood.
They returned to their play, while I thought about those little flowers. I remembered the less-active people at church whose testimonies didn’t receive the nurturing necessary to survive difficult times. How easy it is, I thought, if our testimonies are not rooted in faith and constantly nourished, for them to wither and die.
Suddenly my heart trembled as I recognized in this humble analogy the answer to a problem that had been troubling me.
My husband had stopped going to church, and I had been contemplating becoming less active myself, just to avoid conflict. It would, I reasoned, be only “temporary.” I had been praying, trying to know the right thing to do. Now Heavenly Father had given me the answer.
That night when my husband came home, I told him about our outing and about the dandelions. I told him that if I did truly love him—and he knew that I did—it was due, in great part, to the attention and care I received at church. It was because each Sunday I was in the Lord’s garden, being fed by his Spirit and by the love of my brothers and sisters. It was because I was watered every day as I read the scriptures. All of these things helped to make me the person that loved him. They made me the person that he loved.
He smiled and gave me a kiss as a token of peace. And I gave thanks for the message I had received that day—in the form of two dandelions.

On a beautiful September afternoon, my husband and I were in the temple awaiting the opportunity to participate in temple ordinances. Chris, a friend of ours, entered the room. It was great to see this young man, who had recently returned from a mission to Russia.

As the session was about to begin, a lovely young woman sat next to me. She was radiant, smiling, and filled with light. I wanted to know her, so I quietly introduced myself. She whispered her name, Kate, and I recognized her last name as a family that had lived in Michigan, where my family once lived. Kate was their grown-up daughter, who five weeks earlier had returned from her mission to Germany.

During the session the thought kept entering my mind: “Introduce Kate to Chris.” I put this prompting aside, thinking, “When, where, how?” As we were preparing to leave, Chris came over to tell us good-bye and I seized the opportunity. I pulled Kate over and whispered, “You are two virtuous young people who need to know each other.” I left the temple satisfied that I had acted upon my prompting.

Kate was seeking a holy place the night I met her in the temple. Desiring to weave tightly the eternal relationships that come through temple service, she followed the pattern set by her parents of regular temple attendance.

Not much happened the night I introduced Kate to Chris, but in seeking another holy place the following Sunday, Kate saw Chris amid hundreds of young single adults at an institute devotional. There they found out more about each other. A few weeks later, Chris invited her to watch general conference with him. They continued seeking places that invited the Spirit throughout their courtship and were eventually sealed in the temple, the holy place where they were introduced. Both are now fulfilling the sacred responsibility of parenthood, weaving their testimonies of the plan of salvation into the lives of three little boys, showing them the way on the covenant path.

My heart leapt on 7 November 1981 as I received my mission call to serve in the Chile Concepción Mission. When I opened that letter, my world froze in place, and all I could think of was my mission.
I had almost everything ready. Again and again I reviewed the list of things I needed. I made a little mark on the list as I put each item in my suitcase. But even with my careful planning, I completely forgot one essential thing.
It wasn’t until two hours before I was to depart that I realized I needed some money to travel from my home in Quilpué to the Missionary Training Center in Santiago, Chile, which was about two hours away. I had already used all my savings and the funds my parents had given me.
My bishop wasn’t home when I ran to see if he could lend me the money. I didn’t need very much, but at that moment it seemed like a fortune.
I knelt down in my room in anguish and told my Heavenly Father what was happening, although I knew He already knew. When I got up from my knees, I was confident that He was going to help me solve my problem. I was a faithful tithe payer, and I knew the Lord would open the windows of heaven and pour out blessings upon me until there was no room to receive them (see Mal. 3:10).
My mother called to me and asked me to go through my closet and decide which things I wanted to leave there and which my sister could use. While I was sorting my clothes, I found a little purse so small it fit in the palm of my hand. I remembered that I had received it many years ago and that in it I had hidden my first savings.
I opened it and—what a blessing! Tucked neatly inside was some money I had put there many years earlier. It would be enough to pay for two fares to Santiago. I invited my father, who is not a member of the Church, to accompany me to the Missionary Training Center.
The years have passed, but I still remember this answer to my prayer. It has helped me remember how great are the power and mercy of our Father in Heaven.

One of my ancestors, Isaac Bartlett Nash, joined the Church in Wales and crossed the Atlantic and the plains before joining the Saints in Salt Lake City. After his arrival he heard one of the presiding elders of the Church denounce the use of tobacco in these words: “There are Elders in this assembly who now have tobacco in their mouths, though even a hog would not chew the vile weed.” Isaac, with a chew of tobacco in his mouth, quietly slipped it out, dropped it to the ground, and said to the tobacco, “Now stay there until I come for you.” He never did.3

In my late teens, as I started spending time with the full-time missionaries, I realized how crucial it was to have a testimony of the principles I would soon be teaching as a missionary. I decided that one of the principles I wanted to understand better was tithing.
Many people gain a testimony of tithing during times of financial hardship. But growing up, I always had more than enough. If I ever had a financial need, my parents took care of it. I was grateful for that, but while I knew that they would pay for my mission, I decided that I wanted to finance half of my mission myself through my work as a part-time teacher.
About the same time, I realized that I hadn’t paid a full 10 percent tithing from my last paycheck. I decided that with my next paycheck, I would make up the difference so that I could be a full-tithe payer.
When I was paid for the month, however, the amount was less than I had expected. The work I did was somewhat irregular, so my salary varied from month to month. I quickly realized that the paycheck would not cover my expenses and allow me to pay the balance of what I owed the Lord in tithing from my previous paycheck.
I considered my options and then thought, “I’ll just have to catch up on tithing next month.” But then I remembered an institute of religion lesson on tithing. I particularly remembered what the Lord says in the Old Testament: “Prove me now herewith” (Malachi 3:10). This was an opportunity for me to put the principle to the test and to gain a stronger testimony of what I would soon be teaching others.
When I paid my tithing, I felt good about being caught up. But the opportunity to “prove” the Lord came the very next day—much sooner and in a greater way than I could have ever expected—when I was offered a full-time job as a kindergarten teacher. I would be able to work right up until I left for my mission, and the money I would earn would be more than I needed to pay half of my mission expenses. This blessing dramatically increased my testimony of tithing. That testimony was bolstered again and again as I shared it with the people I served in the Germany Munich/Austria Mission over the next two years.

When the trans-Canada pipeline was being planned, President Tanner received constant appeals from the national minister of trade and from the premier of Alberta to become head of the project. He accepted the challenge.

The 2,000-mile pipeline, largest in the world at that time, was completed in four years, even though one project authority compared it with the building of the U.S. transcontinental railroad.

My third counsel relates to some of the goals you should consider. At approximately the same time that Elder Perry was in Japan with the marines, President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, served in Japan with the air force at the end of World War II.
In 2004, I accompanied President Packer and others to Japan. He had an opportunity to retrace some of his steps and reflect on some of the experiences and decisions he made at that time. With his permission, I share some of his thoughts and feelings.
President Packer described experiences that occurred on an island off the coast of Okinawa. He considers this as his mount in the wilderness. His personal preparation and meeting with other members had deepened his belief in gospel teachings. What he yet lacked was confirmation—sure knowledge of that which he had already come to feel was true.
President Packer’s biographer captures what happened: “Counter to the peace of confirmation he sought, he came face to face with the hell of war against the innocent. Seeking solitude and time to think, he climbed, one day, to a rise above the ocean. There he found the gutted remains of a peasant cottage, its neglected sweet potato field nearby. And lying amid the dying plants he saw the corpses of a slaughtered mother and her two children. The sight filled him with a deep sadness mingled with the feelings of love for his own family and for all families.”6
He subsequently went inside a makeshift bunker, where he contemplated, pondered, and prayed. President Packer, in looking back on this event, described what I would call a confirming spiritual experience. He felt inspired as to what he should do with his life. He, of course, had no idea that he would be called to the high and holy calling he now holds. His vision was that he wanted to be a teacher, emphasizing the teachings of the Savior. He made up his mind that he would live a righteous life.
It came to him in a rather profound way that he would have to find a righteous wife and that together they would raise a large family. This young soldier recognized that his career choice would provide modest compensation and that his sweet companion would need to share the same priorities and be willing to live without some material things. Sister Donna Packer was, and is, for President Packer, the perfect companion. They never had enough excess money, but they did not feel deprived in any way. They raised 10 children, and they sacrificed. They now have 60 grandchildren and more than 80 great-grandchildren.

During the fall of 1968, our bishop asked my parents if they would pledge money toward building the Provo Utah Temple. Wards don’t do that today, but it was common back then. My dad pledged U.S. $1,000. That might not seem like much money, but it was to us. My father was working two jobs to help support a son in college, a son on a mission, and five children at home.
When my father sat us down for family council and told us he had pledged $1,000 toward the temple, I remember thinking, “You might as well have pledged $1 million because both amounts are unreachable.” I couldn’t believe he had pledged that much, and we had less than four months to gather the funds.
We chose four ways to help raise money: we would forfeit gift giving that Christmas and donate the money we would have spent on gifts; my sisters and I would donate our babysitting money; my little brother would do odd jobs to earn money; and as a family we would go to a local farm, pick apples daily for a few weeks, and donate the earnings.
We gift wrapped a shoebox that would hold our deposits, added a picture of a temple and a picture of Jesus Christ, and placed the box on a small table. Excitement grew as our donations increased. Our focus switched from the presents we wanted to our gift for the Savior. I so appreciated the gift He had given God’s children—His life—that I wanted to give something back to Him.
Picking apples turned out to be the most difficult and satisfying way to earn money. It was draining, but we were strengthened and rewarded as we spent time together as a family. We began to be “knit together in unity and in love” (Mosiah 18:21).
As Christmas approached, I would peek into the donation box, but I was always disappointed. Despite our efforts, we were far from our goal.
I felt wonderful, though, about our decision to forfeit presents. I knew that our sacrifices were small, but I had faith that the Savior would be pleased.
One day my dad announced that we had reached our goal and that he had donated the money. I never found out how we raised the rest so quickly.
The fulfillment of Dad’s pledge that Christmas was miraculous. But for me, the real miracle was that through giving instead of receiving, I grew closer to the Savior. That was better than any Christmas gift I could have received. Seven years later the gift was returned to me as I knelt across an altar in the Provo Temple to be sealed for time and all eternity to my husband.

Produced in Salt Lake City in 2022, the demo video for ‘I See the Christ’ features vocalists Casey Elliot, from the musical trio Gentri, and Savannah Stevenson, a leading lady from London’s West End. They are accompanied by Jayne Galloway on piano and Grammy-nominated cellist, Nicole Pinnell.
Scott first saw Nicole play in the film adaptation of Rob Gardner’s musical production, Lamb of God, where, through her cello, she stunningly represented the voice of Christ. Following a prompting that spoke to his heart, Scott reached out to her via social media.
“I feel that Heavenly Father truly opened a door for me through Nicole’s incredible talent, generosity and connections,” Scott recalls. “I am so grateful that she had the heart to be willing to listen to my music.”
Nicole introduced Scott to Casey Elliot, and Scott reached out to Savannah Stevenson, also via social media, after seeing her perform on a Brigham Young University programme. Savannah sang the solo for, “Bring on Tomorrow,’ and in the duet, ‘I See the Christ’ with Casey.

If someone had asked me when I was little if I would serve a mission, I would have said no. My heart softened toward the idea as I got older, partly because I had seen my older siblings serve. But I still never really thought of it as something I would do.
When I turned 21, I began to wonder if I should go on a mission, but I never prayed seriously about it. As time went on, I began to feel something was missing. I told my mother how I felt, and she suggested I reconsider a mission. She said that when she was my age, she felt the same emotions I was experiencing. Serving a mission was the answer for her, so maybe it was also my answer.
I was terrified to pray about a mission. One reason I never considered a mission before was that I didn’t think I was strong enough to do it. I would have to leave my comforts behind and perhaps learn a new language. Plus, I didn’t think I knew the gospel well enough to teach it. But as I prayed with purpose, I felt my fears melt away. The answer I received was overpowering: the Lord loved me, and He wanted me to serve a mission.
I was amazed by the confidence I felt after I received my answer. I no longer felt nervous or unqualified. Instead I was excited to share the gospel, and I began working on my mission papers. I was soon called to the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission.
Rebecca Keller Monson

“I had been given the assignment to give a family home evening lesson, and as I was thumbing through the manual looking for a lesson, I noticed that there was one special lesson for husbands and wives only. I decided that next Monday would be a special family night for Mom and Dad. My sister and I fixed them a candlelight dinner, and then we quietly went downstairs for our own family night while leaving the manual with Mom and Dad with a bookmark in the appropriate spot.”

As I elaborate a bit on my testimony, perhaps an experience might help. While serving as a mission president, I had occasion to discuss the gospel and to discuss missionary work with a Protestant minister. He was troubled because he had received a call to preside over a mission for his church, and because he had had a prior poor experience, he was seeking help. He came to my office in Dallas and said that he really didn’t want to accept the mission call, but he felt he had to. He said he knew that we had the best missionary program in the world, and he wanted to know why it was that we were so successful. I think he was looking for some organizational hints or something of that sort, but I knew that wasn’t the answer.

After I had collected my thoughts, I told the man that there were four basic reasons why the Lord’s program succeeds. I said, first of all, we succeed because we are led by a living prophet, a man who is the mouthpiece for God on the earth, a man who receives inspiration—revelation—on behalf of the Church.
Second, we succeed because we work under the power and authority of the holy priesthood. We don’t assume that authority, we don’t take it upon ourselves, but it is given to us by the laying on of hands, and we are duly delegated to go out and preach the gospel. We have the priesthood.
Third, I said, we succeed because we are teaching the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ as restored in this day. We don’t play, as Elder Packer has taught, on one key; we play the entire keyboard. We know why we’re here, we know what we’re supposed to prepare for, and we know where we’ve been.
And fourth, we succeed because we do what we do on the strength and power of personal testimony. Our young people go out and teach, not because of some promise of remuneration, but because they have a testimony; they forego college or delay it and put other personal plans aside so that they can go out and share their testimonies with the world. I said, when your church can conduct a program with a prophet directing under the power of the priesthood, teaching the fulness of the gospel, and on the strength of personal testimonies, you can do exactly what we are doing. I said, there is no need for you to go to that trouble, though. We already have it going; why don’t you join us? He didn’t accept my invitation.

When I was president of the Southern States Mission, one of our missionaries preached on that dream of Nebuchadnezzar in one of our meetings where we had some investigators, and I stood at the door to greet them as they went out. A man came up and introduced himself as a minister, and he said, “You don’t mean to tell me that you think that the Mormon Church is that kingdom, do you?”

And I said, “Yes, sir, why not?”

He said, “It couldn’t be.”

I said, “Why couldn’t it?”

He said, “You can’t have a kingdom without a king, and you don’t have a king, so you don’t have a kingdom.”

“Oh,” I said, “my friend, you didn’t read far enough. You just read the seventh chapter of Daniel, where Daniel saw one like the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven, ‘and there was given him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages, should serve him.’ (Dan. 7:14.)

“Now,” I said, “my friend, tell me how can the kingdom be given to him when he comes in the clouds of heaven if there is no kingdom prepared for him? That is what we Latter-day Saints are doing.”

Elder Orton was born on 24 August 1936 to H. Frank and Gwen Riggs Orton and was raised in Panguitch, Utah. His parents had been married in the temple, but not long afterward his father became less active. It wasn’t until young Robert was 12 years old that his father determined to return to full activity. “That took place after many years of hoping and praying and pleading,” Elder Orton says. “He had always been a good father, but there was now a calmness and sweetness in our home because of the spiritual relationship that existed between my father and the rest of our family.”

No one was at the church when, as Young Women president, I arrived to set up chairs in the cultural hall the night before a Young Women activity. I was seven months pregnant, and I had to set up the chairs almost all by myself. But soon my secretary and a counselor arrived and helped me finish. Then we started hanging decorations.
That’s when a lady poked her head in. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but the Relief Society has this room reserved for our yoga class tonight.”
We asked if there was another room they could use, but the other rooms were occupied. So we did the only thing we could: we took down the chairs. I went home that night feeling tired, knowing that in the morning I would need to set up chairs again.
But is it about the chairs? As I took down the chairs after the Young Women activity, I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about those fun and wonderful girls I have come to love dearly. I was grateful for the time I had spent with them.

Beth walked into her grandmother’s living room and stopped short, staring at dozens of brightly decorated Easter eggs. “Gram!” she gasped. “I never knew you had so many!”
“Yes, I do have a lot,” Gram said, looking around. “I’m glad you came, dear. You can help me sort through them. I told the children’s librarians that this year they could have the display earlier.”
Beth knelt in front of the sofa where several eggs were lying. “Oh, Gram, I remember this one. Didn’t the Phantom give it to you?” She carefully held up a sequin-encrusted egg.
“Yes, and it’s one of my favorites. I got it about ten years ago. I’ve decided to make a special display this year of eggs from the Phantom—in his memory.”
Beth stared at her grandmother. “What do you mean ‘in his memory’? Was Gramps the Phantom?”
“Yes, Beth, it was Gramps. Every Easter morning from the time we were married I found a tiny basket with a handmade Easter egg in it on the doorstep.” Gram’s smile started to waver a little. “Every egg was different. Easter just won’t seem the same this year without the Phantom. That’s why I decided to let the library have the display early. There won’t be a new egg to wait for this year.”
Beth got up to hug her grandmother. “Did Gramps know that you knew that he was the Phantom?” she asked.
Gram wiped her eyes on the corner of the apron she was wearing. “Oh, I’m sure he suspected I knew that it was him, but I never let on. It was kind of a delightful game that we played with each other. Every year before Easter he’d spend hours in his workshop and never tell me what he was doing. I’m sure he practiced on a lot of eggs. You know what a perfectionist he was.” Gram laughed through misty eyes. “I’d give a lot to know what he did with all those eggs!”
Beth laughed too. “Did Gramps fix breakfast a lot?”
“Now that I think of it, he did. And I’ll bet you can guess what we usually had.”
“Eggs!” Beth shouted.
The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly as they sorted and packed the eggs. Gram had a story to tell about each one.
A look of understanding spread across Mother’s face. “Were you helping Gram get her eggs ready for the library display this week?”
Beth nodded. “And do you know what? I found out that Gramps was the Phantom all along. Did you know that, Mom?”
“Did I ever! I remember all the eggs we used to eat. It’s a wonder I didn’t sprout feathers when I was growing up!” Mother smiled at the memory. “I never let on to Gramps that I knew though. It would have spoiled his fun. He got such a kick out of surprising Gram.”

Let’s start with the assignment to be a ministering sister. Whether you have that assignment as a 10-year-old daughter in a family where the father has died, or as a Relief Society president whose town was recently affected by fire, or when you are in a hospital recovering from surgery—you have a chance to fulfill your call from the Lord to be His ministering daughter.
Those appear to be very different ministering assignments. Yet they all require the preparation of a powerful, loving heart, a fearless faith that the Lord gives no command save He prepares a way, and a desire to go and do for Him.
Because she was prepared, the 10-year-old daughter put her arms around her widowed mother and prayed to know how to help her family. And she keeps at it.
The Relief Society president had prepared to minister before the unexpected fire in her area. She had come to know and love the people. Her faith in Jesus Christ had grown over the years from having received answers to her prayers for the Lord to help her in small services for Him. Because of her long preparation, she was ready and eager to organize her sisters to minister to people and families in distress.
A sister recovering in a hospital from surgery was prepared to minister to her fellow patients. She had spent a lifetime ministering for the Lord to every stranger as if he or she was a neighbor and a friend. When she felt in her heart the call to minister in the hospital, she served others so bravely and with such love that the other patients began to hope she wouldn’t recover too soon.
In the same way that you prepare to minister, you can and must prepare for your call to be a leader for the Lord when it comes. It will require faith in Jesus Christ, rooted in your deep love of the scriptures, to lead people and to teach His word without fear. Then you will be prepared to have the Holy Ghost as your constant companion. You will be eager to say, “I will,” when your counselor in the Young Women presidency says, with panic in her voice, “Sister Alvarez is sick today. Who will teach her class?”
It takes much the same preparation for the wonderful day when the Lord calls you to an assignment as a mother. But it will also take an even more loving heart than you needed earlier. It will take faith in Jesus Christ beyond what has ever before been in your heart. And it will take a capacity to pray for the influence, direction, and comfort of the Holy Ghost beyond what you may have felt was even possible.
You might reasonably ask how a man of any age can know what mothers need. It’s a valid question. Men can’t know everything, but we can learn some lessons by revelation from God. And we can also learn much by observation, when we take the opportunity to seek the Spirit to help us understand what we observe.
I have been observing Kathleen Johnson Eyring for the 57 years we have been married. She is the mother of four boys and two girls. To date, she has accepted the call to be a mothering influence on more than a hundred direct family members and hundreds more whom she has adopted into her mother heart.
You remember President Nelson’s perfect description of a woman’s divine mission—including her mission of mothering: “As mother, teacher, or nurturing Saint, she molds living clay to the shape of her hopes. In partnership with God, her divine mission is to help spirits live and souls be lifted. This is the measure of her creation.”
As nearly as I can discern, my wife, Kathleen, has followed that charge, given to our Father’s daughters. The key appears to me to be the words “she molds living clay to the shape of her hopes … in partnership with God.” She did not force. She molded. And she had a template for her hopes, and to which she tried to mold those she loved and mothered. Her template was the gospel of Jesus Christ—as I could see through prayerful observation over the years.
Becoming a covenant woman in partnership with God is how great and good daughters of God have always mothered, led, and ministered, serving in whatever way and place He has prepared for them. I promise that you will find joy in your journey to your heavenly home as you return to Him as a covenant-keeping daughter of God.
I testify that God the Father lives and He loves you. He will answer your prayers. His Beloved Son leads, in every detail, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. President Russell M. Nelson is His living prophet. And Joseph Smith saw and spoke with God the Father and Jesus Christ in a grove of trees in Palmyra, New York. I know that is true. I also testify that Jesus Christ is your Savior; He loves you. And through His Atonement, you can be purified and lifted to the high and holy callings which will come to you. I so testify in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Name: Jackson
Location: South Carolina, USA
Goal: Long-term: Own a food truck some day; short-term: Learn about making food
“I told one of my Young Men leaders about a goal I had to have a food truck. He said, ‘Every year I do a back-to-school party. Why don’t you come cook for us?’ So I did. I made about 50 hot dogs and burgers in 45 minutes. I loved being with the guys in my quorum, and I got awesome feedback from the experience and some compliments. And I learned a lot.”

—The most difficult thing for Mike Dalby during graduation week was to keep from smiling so wide his ears would fall off.
“You’ve got to meet my parents,” he said, beaming. “They’re the greatest people.” And he talked about changes at home since he joined the Church. “My mom’s quit drinking coffee! And when I started talking about genealogy with her, she said to send her all the sheets and she did the whole thing—all the research, writing all the letters, putting everything together, and typing it up, everything! My sisters thought that if I joined the Mormon church I’d walk around in a dark suit, grow a huge beard like Brigham Young, and lose all my ambition. But I think they’ve learned differently. And dad’s so proud of me graduating.”
Mike’s parents came all the way from Stephenville, Texas, to see him commissioned as a second lieutenant and to watch him march with the wing staff. “There are 40 squadrons, divided into four groups of ten squadrons each. The groups form the wing. Wing staff has four seniors and four juniors who are in charge of the cadet squadrons as far as we can be without getting into the officer chain of command. It’s a good opportunity to work with high level officers with a frequency you’ll probably never have again,” Mike explained.
Mike joined the Church during his junior year. As a member of the debate team (one of more than 100 extracurricular clubs and activities cadets can participate in), Mike kept running into LDS debaters on other teams.
“Our forensics team is in the same district as BYU and Weber State and Southern Utah State College, and I just started talking to people about the Mormon church. Of course, they loved to talk about it, and I listened. I had come to a point in my cadet career when things were going pretty bad. I had failed a class and my grades were getting lower and lower. I was having some problems with drinking. I had always been interested in religion, but I realized that my church at home had been more of a social thing than a spiritual thing,” Mike said.
“During spring break I came up to BYU and visited people there and talked with some of the professors in the department of religion,” Mike continued. “The people were fantastic, just great. Then I went and talked with the missionaries. One of them came from almost the same background I came from, and he was one of the most spiritually strong people I’ve ever met.”
Mike had a debate team friend, Marty Wojtysiak, and together they explored the gospel. “All of a sudden these people started giving me answers to questions I’d always had but had been unable to answer,” Marty said. “I thought, ‘Wow, that’s interesting. I want to learn more.’ Mike and I listened to the discussions together, and together we decided to join the Church. The semester we got baptized was the best semester both of us ever had, both grade-wise and on the military side of things.”
Since then Mike and Marty have come full circle in the gospel—now they’re sharing it with others. At a class party there was a bowl of punch, and Mike didn’t know if it had alcohol in it. “One of the biggest drinkers in the squadron turned to me and said, ‘Don’t drink it. There’s alcohol in it, and I don’t want you to be drinking.’ He found me a glass of fruit juice instead. At first the other cadets kidded me about joining the Church, but now they watch out for me. They even change their speech when I walk into the room. And my mother—at first she wondered what was going on, but what mother can get mad at you when you tell her, ‘I’m not going to be drinking anymore; I’m not going to be cussing anymore; I’m going to be a very nice young man’?”
“I’ve baptized a couple of people I helped teach about the Church,” Marty said, “and that’s just a joy! Jay Decker is a freshman I baptized—he’s six-foot-six and I’m only five-foot-ten! Like always, everyone showed up at the baptism. A cadet gave a talk on baptism, a cadet talked about confirmation, one played the piano, one led the songs, and Ted confirmed Jay.”
Recently the cadets celebrated the anniversary of Mike and Marty’s entrance into the Church by presenting them with a cake with a single candle. Incidentally, the two converts have done all right in collegiate debate, too. Marty won one of the two events he reached in the national finals, and Mike reached the finals in three events.

That August, Apostle Luke S. Johnson ordained 16-year-old Erastus to be an elder. The new elder then became junior companion to Apostle William E. McLellin during a trip into New Hampshire. At Littleton they parted, and Erastus headed West, preaching on the way and performing his first baptism—Zadock Parker. That fall he “baptized many people and organized a branch of the Church in the towns of Lyman and Littleton, in New Hampshire.”