Gospel Story Finder

I was introduced to the Church as a young girl when my family relocated to the Dominican Republic in 2007. Upon our arrival, my mother, my brother Mayer, and I had met the missionaries, Elder Upshaw and Elder Jean Louis, who later baptized my mother. This event marked one of the most wonderful blessings for our family at that time. I was six years old, and my brother was five. Later my brother and I were baptized when we each turned eight. I am thankful to my mother for accepting the message the missionaries brought when I was just a girl. Despite understanding that challenges and trials would continue even after our baptism, we embraced the gospel of Jesus Christ into our lives because we recognized its truth and the promise of eternal happiness for our family.

From that day my parents spoke of little else but plans for emigrating to America. My father went first, and about a year later he sent for my mother, my brother, and me. My mother was at first denied permission to leave Germany, because she had heart trouble, but she insisted my brother and I go; six months later she was permitted to join us.
Everything the missionary had predicted came to pass. My sister, who did not accept the gospel and who still lives in Germany, told us about the events there that transpired as the elder had prophesied.

While in high school I watched my classmates play a special classroom game. The students were matched against the teacher. The name of the game was “How to pass the answers in an examination from one side of the room to the other without the knowledge of the teacher.” One boy in the middle of the room was the “quarterback.” He had a special knack and skillfully and joyfully carried out the process. The game was so much fun that many of the students participated, not thinking themselves dishonest, but merely playing a game. I tried it myself a time or two, though I felt little need of help in answering the questions. On one such attempt the teacher caught me, and the embarrassment and overpowering sense of guilt put an effective stop to my participation.

Before February 1997, our family could have been compared to a deep river: on the surface the river appeared calm, but the undercurrents were continually raging.
When any problem arose, I tended to blame my wife. I believed she was the cause of our problems, so I rationalized doing anything I wanted, including looking for a new partner. I didn’t feel my wife had the right to complain about my behavior because I provided for the financial needs of our family.
One day in February, there was a knock on our door in Tacloban, Leyte, Philippines. When I looked out the window I saw two strangers—young women wearing name tags. I recognized them as Latter-day Saint missionaries. Looking for an opportunity to debate, I had them enter. When I asked them to sit down, I was ready for battle. I was determined they would leave disappointed, so I presented a false front. I pretended to be attentive so I would be prepared to deliver my arguments most effectively. But when it was my turn to speak, I found there was nothing to argue about. I could only agree with what the sisters had said.
The sisters wanted to set up another meeting, and I agreed. When they left, the peace I had enjoyed disappeared, and soon my negative feelings started to return. I dreaded the prospect of meeting with the missionaries. But I kept the appointment, and, with each succeeding visit, I rediscovered values and truths I had discarded in my vain pursuit of success. Each time they left our home, the peace I felt would last longer, and soon I found myself looking forward to their visits.
The missionaries’ teachings, the scriptures, and the reading material they left behind were microscopes with which I began to examine the minute details of my life. I found that I had been scrutinizing only half of my marriage—my wife’s half—and I had chosen to see only the bad in it. With the new opportunity to view my life in the light of Jesus Christ’s teachings, I began to see more clearly the other half of my marriage—my half—and found it in even worse condition.
The proclamation on the family states, “Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ” (Liahona, October 1998, 24). I rejoice and thank the Lord for giving me the chance to repent. I also thank Him for these sisters who willingly became His instruments so that through our accepting the gospel and living its teachings my family might become like a lake—calm and peaceful throughout, not just on the surface.

I was an inexperienced priest in a large ward. My bishop called me on the phone one Sunday afternoon. When I answered, he said, “Do you have time to go with me? I need your help.” He explained only that he wanted me to go as his companion to visit a woman I did not know, who was without food and who needed to learn how to manage her finances better.

Now, I knew that he had two seasoned counselors in his bishopric. Both were mature men of great experience. One counselor was the owner of a large business, who later became a mission president and a General Authority. The other counselor was a prominent judge in the city.

I was the bishop’s newly called first assistant in the priests quorum. He knew that I understood little about welfare principles. I knew even less about financial management. I had not yet written a check; I had no bank account; I hadn’t even seen a personal budget. Yet, despite my inexperience, I sensed that he was deadly serious when he said, “I need your help.”

I have come to understand what that inspired bishop meant. He saw in me a golden opportunity to prepare a priesthood holder. I am sure that he did not foresee in that untrained boy a future member of the Presiding Bishopric. But he treated me that day, and all the days I knew him over the years, as a preparation project of great promise.

He seemed to enjoy it, but it was work for him. On our return to my home after we visited the widow in need, he parked the car. He opened his well-worn and heavily marked scriptures. And he gave me kindly correction. He told me that I needed to study the scriptures and learn more. But he must have seen that I was weak and simple enough to be teachable. To this day I remember what he taught that afternoon. But even more, I remember how confident he was that I could learn and be better—and that I would.

He saw beyond the reality of who I was to the possibilities that lie inside someone who feels weak and simple enough to want the Lord’s help and to believe that it will come.

Bishops, mission presidents, and fathers can choose to act on those possibilities. I saw it happen recently in a fast meeting as a deacons quorum president bore his testimony. He was about to become a teacher and leave his quorum members behind him.

He testified with great feeling in his voice of the growth in goodness and power in the members of his quorum. I’ve never heard a person praise an organization more wonderfully than he did. He praised their service. And then he said that he knew that he had been able to help the new deacons when they felt overwhelmed because he had felt overwhelmed when he came into the priesthood.

His feelings of weakness had made him more patient, more sympathetic, and therefore better able to strengthen and serve others. In those two years in the Aaronic Priesthood, it seemed to me, he had become seasoned and wise. He had learned that he was helped as a quorum president by a clear and vivid memory of his own needs when he was two years younger. His challenge in the future in his leadership and ours will come when such memories fade and grow dim through time and our success.

As I was rereading past issues, the article “Harmer Accidents” in the August 1985 New Era hit home as it did on the first reading. It reminded me of the night of my high school graduation in Provo, Utah. The girl who gave the closing prayer used the phrase “Keep us from harm or accidents”; and I, one of the selected graduation speakers and an English major-to-be, remember thinking contemptuously “What a trite cliche.” And then, just a few hours later, I remember thanking the Lord for trite cliches and sincere prayers as the car I was riding in came within inches of a serious, possibly fatal, accident. As it was, all we got were a few scratches on the car and some suddenly wiser, humbler young women. Thanks for articles that remind us of what’s important.
Kathleen WhitworthFremont, California

It was February 14, Valentine’s Day, when I knelt across the altar in the Mesa Arizona Temple with my sister, Jennifer; my dad; and my mom. I was 15 years old and had been a member of the Church for just about a year. What had been only a goal a year ago was now a reality. We were about to be sealed as a family for time and eternity.
Twenty-one years before, my parents, who were not yet members, married in a Presbyterian ceremony. The minister said the marriage was “until death do you part,” but my parents thought marriage should last forever. They even started signing letters to each other, and later to Jen and me, “Love forever and three days.” It was their way of saying they hoped we’d always be together.
It wasn’t until my dad started having a lot of back problems that we met a member of the LDS Church. A therapist who helped my dad with back exercises began talking to my parents about the gospel. Slowly, they became interested and asked to meet the missionaries.
The first meeting we attended as investigators was a stake conference. Its theme was on strengthening the family. For my mom, who had been searching for ways to make our family closer, the conference was an answer to her prayers.
My prayers were answered too. After the missionaries invited us to be baptized, I began praying to know if the Church was true. As I read in John 14:26–27 about having the Holy Ghost and not being afraid, I knew that it was.
On February 11, 1996, my entire family was baptized. We had only been attending the ward for a few weeks, so we were shocked when dozens of people came to the baptism to show their support.
My family made a goal to be sealed as soon as we could. We began preparing to attend the temple, focusing on our relationships with each other and with the Savior. We’d always been a close family, and preparing for the temple made our family even closer. Our relationship became more spiritual as we read scriptures and prayed together.
On my own, I tried to read everything the prophets had written on going to the temple. I also followed my Young Women leader’s suggestion and began saying “thank you” prayers. Instead of asking Heavenly Father for all the things I wanted, I concentrated on simply thanking Him.
The day before we were to be sealed, we drove two hours from our home in Tucson to Mesa, where the temple is located. The next morning, Valentine’s Day, we awoke excited. This was the day. When we arrived at the temple, Jen and I walked around outside while my parents received their endowments. Arizona weather was perfect in February. It was as if all of the flowers had bloomed for us.
Finally it was time for Jen and me, dressed in white, to join our parents in the sealing room. I remember being struck by how bright and pure and beautiful everything looked in the temple. As we knelt across the altar, I glanced in the mirrors and saw images of our family extending endlessly. I felt the Spirit bear witness that our family would be together forever.
When we walked outside of the temple after the sealing, we were again surprised by the number of people who had come to support us.
It wasn’t until a few days after the ceremony that we realized we were sealed exactly a year and three days after our baptism. Suddenly my parents’ signature, “Love forever and three days” took on a whole new meaning. Their wish had come true—we were a forever family.

I served my first mission in Brazil and had some marvelous spiritual experiences. It has been wonderful to see what has happened in Brazil since then. In those days, all of Brazil was just one mission. There were no stakes and only a few branches. Almost every branch I served in at that time is now a stake—or multiple stakes! In São Paulo, the third largest city in the world, there was one little branch when I first arrived; now there are twelve stakes, four missions, and a temple.
During my mission, I had the opportunity of teaching a Protestant minister. My companion and I taught him every week for six months. He attended meetings in our little branch, but he remained a minister teaching in his church. He had been invited many times to be baptized. He had studied, and I knew that the spirit had touched him often, but still he waited. Finally, one evening I reminded him that he knew that the Church was true, because of the inspiration of the Spirit, and that he had sufficient knowledge now to be baptized. Therefore, we would not be teaching him regularly until he was ready to accept the invitation to be baptized.
A short time later my companion, Elder Darwin Christensen, and I were on a streetcar going to a baptism with some converts. When the streetcar stopped, our investigator-minister got on, and upon seeing us, he asked, “Where are you going?” I told him that we were on our way to a baptism. He said urgently, “I have to talk to you Monday night.”
We rearranged our schedule and went to his home that Monday evening. He asked us some questions that were on his mind about the Church. Then, as though he couldn’t wait any longer, he said, “What do I need to do to be baptized?” He continued, “I am sure that you’ve been wondering why it has taken me so long to decide. I wanted to study everything so that I would have the correct answers and never be an embarrassment to the Church. This Wednesday night I am going to the directors of my church and announce to them that I’m leaving my position and joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
On Wednesday he resigned from his job as a minister, and on Saturday he was baptized a member of our Father in Heaven’s true Church. The next week I finished my mission. He was my last baptism.
You are always concerned for the people you have baptized, and you always wonder how they’re doing. About seventeen years after that first mission, my wife, Carol, and I had an opportunity to travel to Brazil. When we landed in Rio de Janeiro, our taxi driver happened to be a Church member. We told him who we were, and I talked to him about being in Brazil on my mission. No sooner did we get checked into our hotel room than our telephone rang. I thought, Who could be calling us here at this hour? It was someone from the mission office, inviting us to dinner at the mission home the next evening. We arrived at the appointed time, the door opened, and there stood my ex-Protestant minister convert. He was the mission president! What a thrill!
Then, while I was attending general conference in April 1985, I heard the name of Helio da Rocha Camargo read, and I had the opportunity to raise my hand to sustain Elder Camargo as a member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy. My ex-minister was now a General Authority! That was another thrill. In April 1990 I was also called as a General Authority, and I was assigned to Brazil. When we arrived at the airport in São Paulo, there to greet us was Elder Camargo, now the Area President of Brazil. What a joy it was for me to serve as one of his counselors in the area presidency.
When Brother Camargo was baptized, there wasn’t even a stake in all of Brazil. There were only a few tiny, struggling branches. Think of all the things that he has seen since then! He has played a major role in the growth of the Church in Brazil. He is a great man. People have much love and respect for him. He is now the president of the temple in São Paulo.
The Lord has told us, “And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!
“And now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my Father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me!” (D&C 18:15–16.)
As a young man I read the above scripture and thought that the promise referred to the kingdom of our Father in Heaven in the next life. I now know of the joy we can share with them during this life also.
It has been a great joy for me to see many souls come into the Church. To be in Brazil and work with Elder Camargo again has been a special joy. And to realize that that joy has multiplied through his service as a leader and through his family is rewarding. His sons have served as missionaries. I was at a stake conference not long ago at which one of his sons presided as stake president.
Our Father in Heaven’s promises of great joy for our labors in teaching and bringing souls unto Him is true in this life as well as in the life hereafter.

I watched the cows grazing contentedly on the hay we had just given them as Jason talked on. Those cows were our livelihood. A big drought could easily put us under, especially with the debts Dad had to pay off. I remembered the year I turned ten. We had had no substantial rainfall for two or three years, and all of our dams dried up. Because there was so little water, our livestock were suffering dehydration, and feed was too scarce to satisfy their hunger. A bull, which would previously have fetched hundreds, was worth only a few dollars. Dad had said that if things didn’t get better soon, we’d have to move off the land. By my tenth birthday, things hadn’t improved. I remembered that day well. I had gone with my father to the paddock at the far end of the farm. He walked along in grim silence, clutching a loaded rifle in his hand. I had not been invited, and I didn’t know where we were going or what we were doing. In my naivety, I thought we might be going to shoot rabbits. Imagine my shock when I realized that, instead of rabbits, we were going to shoot cattle. And when they were all dead, we would start on the sheep. As the first animal fell in a withered heap, I let out a strangled cry of protest. Dad turned to look at me, his dark eyes brimming with concern.
“You go on back to the house, son,” he said. But I didn’t move. I stood in petrified silence as my father put those poor starving creatures out of their misery. I’m sure Dad was close to tears that day. I know I was.

My best friend always used to say the Lord’s name in vain, and every time I heard her say it I felt bad. One night I decided to pray about it. The next day when I heard her say the Lord’s name in vain again, I told her that it wasn’t right and that I didn’t like it. That same day, she heard someone else using the Lord’s name in vain and said the same thing I had said to her. I have never heard her say the Lord’s name in vain again. This showed me that I can help lots of people by teaching just one. I am grateful that Heavenly Father helped me to tell my friend how I felt.

Wilford Kimball was our bishop when I was an older teenager. He had two daughters who were my age, Ardyth and Virginia. Every, I mean every, Sunday evening we would go to Bishop Kimball’s house. Always they would be there. Always we would have refreshments. Never once did any of us feel unwelcome. It wasn’t just for a few months but literally for a few years. I don’t know how they ever afforded it, let alone put up with ten to fifteen teenage youths for two to three hours every Sunday night.
From the little group who attended those get-togethers there have been five or six bishops, several high councilors, two stake presidents, several counselors in stake presidencies, a General Authority, and wives of all these priesthood brethren. Bishop Kimball himself was later called as a stake president and then as a mission president, and there are some who were there who followed him and also became mission presidents. What a privilege to walk with Wilford Kimball and his wife in high places, their home.

When I was going to law school, we lived 2,200 kilometers from the nearest temple. We had very little money, and it was difficult to provide for our schooling and care for our small children. My wife and I attended the temple each summer when we returned to visit Utah, but at no other time. I am glad my priesthood leaders did not make me feel guilty that I did not attend the temple more frequently. A few years later I worked in Washington, D.C., and was able to use the great library resources there. During that year, I chose to concentrate my personal efforts (in addition to my Church calling) on family history research. When we moved to another city, I was called as a stake missionary, and my priorities shifted from family history research to missionary work.

The principle of encouraging members to prayerfully determine what they can do “in wisdom and order” in their present circumstances is an important principle of Church administration and individual growth. Quotas or assignments violate an important principle. In the past, most of us have observed a local leader make assessments for each member of a ward to contribute exactly the same amount of money for a particular financial need. Such assignments or assessments take no account of individual circumstances or the spirit of voluntary offering. Assessments deny everyone the blessing of making a voluntary offering.

King Benjamin did not say “all things should be done by mathematical division even if this requires some members to run faster than they have strength” (See Mosiah 4:27). The Prophet Joseph Smith did not say “I teach the people correct principles and then I give them an assessment.” (See Journal of Discourses, 10:57–58.)

In summary, we should understand and apply these principles:
(1) All things should be done in wisdom and order. We should recognize that our members have many individual circumstances. Considering these, we should promote the mission of the Church in such a way as to accomplish the work of the Lord, not to impose guilt on his children.
(2) There is a time to every purpose under the heaven. There are many tasks to be performed in temple and family history work. We should encourage our members to make prayerful selection of the things they can do in their individual circumstances and in view of their current Church calling, being “diligent unto the end.”
(3) Each member should think about the three dimensions of the mission of the Church—proclaiming the gospel, perfecting the Saints, redeeming the dead—as a lifelong personal assignment and privilege. Each should gauge his or her personal participation from time to time according to his or her own circumstances and resources, as guided by the Spirit of the Lord and the direction of priesthood leaders.
There are family organizations to be formed, family projects to be planned, hearts to be touched, prayers to be offered, doctrines to be learned, children to be taught, living and dead relatives to be identified, recommends to be obtained, temples to be visited, covenants to be made, and ordinances to be received.
As we fulfill our responsibilities to teach and show our brothers and sisters how to help bring to pass the eternal life of man, we will all be blessed, for this is His work and His glory.

A dear friend told of the passing away of his atheistic father. As he bid good-bye to his family who had gathered around, he expressed no hope of any future, saying, “No, this is the end.”

Then, as the last moment came, he suddenly opened his eyes and said distinctly, “Mother, how good to see you! Sister, you look lovely. How beautiful it all is!” Then he died. What a surprise it must have been for him! I hope he was happy about it.

I know of a young man who, as a Christian trying one church after another, could not find one that had a prophet. Only among the Jewish people did he find mention of prophets, and so he accepted the Jewish religion.
In the summer of 1964 he went to New York City and visited the World’s Fair. He entered the Mormon Pavilion and saw pictures of the prophets of the Old Testament. His heart warmed within him as he heard the missionaries speak with appreciation of these great men of ages past through whom Jehovah revealed His will.
Then as he progressed through the pavilion, he heard of modern prophets—Joseph Smith and others who were called prophets, seers, and revelators. Something stirred within him. His spirit responded to the testimony of the missionaries. He was baptized and later served a mission in South America, where he made many converts. Since returning home, he has become the means of bringing his family and others into the Church. It is heartwarming to hear him testify that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet of God, as were all who have succeeded him in this high and sacred calling.

When residents of Bear Creek called for help, over 175 youth and leaders from the Dallas Texas Stake answered. They helped with the restoration and cleanup of the historic, 150-year-old area, the oldest black community in Dallas County.
The youth worked hard to help restore and preserve some of the historic homes in the area. They also prepared some of the historical buildings that will be moved nearer to a recreation center site.
The residents of Bear Creek expressed their gratitude for the “wonderful job” the LDS youth did in helping them clean up their homes and neighborhoods. They were amazed that so many could be brought together from such distant places in such a short time.

Instead, I joined a neighborhood team with lots of friends. We had a great time the first year and were successful, but the second year the team struggled and sometimes lost focus on the game. I became frustrated. I put my best effort into every game, but we almost always lost.
After one very bad game, Coach Hashem, whose team was doing well, approached me on the football field. He asked me how things were going. I said, “Not so good.” I told him I missed my old teammates. Hashem coached with a great deal of skill and always seemed to get the most from his players.
“How would you like to be a guest player for our team when we go to the next tournament?” Hashem asked.
“I would really like that!” I responded excitedly.
“Great!” Hashem said, smiling. “I need to ask you one question though. Can you play on Sundays?” My stomach muscles tightened. I suddenly felt sick. I remembered what had happened that last time this question had been asked.
I looked at my mom. I looked at my dad. They too waited for my answer. I looked at Hashem.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t play on Sundays,” I said. “Will that make a difference?”
Hashem stood there for a moment. He had seen the expression of hope on my face fade quickly as I had answered his question.
“No, that’s OK,” Hashem responded. “We probably won’t get to the Sunday finals. We’d love to have you play with us.”
Soon I started practicing with Hashem’s team. The team played with a great deal of intensity, and they welcomed me back. I loved playing with them.
We didn’t win all of our games at the tournament, but we all tried our hardest, and we had a good time. Soon I became a permanent member of Hashem’s team. Though they knew I didn’t play on Sundays, they still appreciated me for what I added to the team on the other game days.

An interesting blessing and challenge about a lay church is that we have to be patient with each other and ourselves as we learn and grow in our callings. When a difficult and sensitive situation—one that involved several ward members—came up in my calling, I handled it the best I knew how and moved on, believing the difficult experience was behind me.
I was wrong. Not everyone in our ward agreed about how the incident should have been handled, and it became a point of great discussion. Some agreed with what I had done. Others thought I’d made a significant blunder. I felt bad, but since I had done my best, I tried not to worry too much about it.
When I was released a short time later, however, it came as a tremendous blow. I knew that callings in the Church are only temporary, of course, but because of the timing, I felt as though my leaders were blaming or punishing me for what had happened.
The scrutiny seemed more intense than ever, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to face anyone in the ward right away. So the week following my release, I stayed home from church. I did so again the next week—and the next. The longer I stayed away, the more difficult it seemed to return.
After some time, I started thinking about what had happened. I realized that even though this was a painful situation, it wasn’t worth putting my covenants on the line. Was the Church true or wasn’t it?
Maybe I had handled the situation in my calling appropriately; maybe I hadn’t. The truth is all of us are learning, and all of us make mistakes.
As painful as it was to admit, maybe who was right or wrong didn’t really matter in the grand scheme. What would matter, though, was whether I kept my covenants. It would matter—both to my family and me—if I was attending church, renewing my covenants in sacrament meeting, and continuing to serve. And it would matter how I responded to priesthood authority.
I returned to church. A short time later I received another calling. That calling—and callings since—required that I serve with some of the people who had criticized my actions. That has been difficult. But I am glad I haven’t let their comments stop me from enjoying the blessings of Church activity.

When I was 16, my mom allowed me to meet with the missionaries but told me I could never get baptized. I laughed. I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew I didn’t want to be baptized.
I first met the missionaries only to be polite. A friend asked me if I would be interested in talking with them, and I agreed because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
I kept meeting with the missionaries but didn’t take their lessons seriously, because I knew baptism wasn’t an option for me.
When the missionaries eventually invited me to be baptized, I said my mom wouldn’t allow it. My friend’s dad suggested we fast and ask Heavenly Father to help soften her heart.
I wasn’t convinced that fasting would change my mom’s heart, but I agreed to try. My friend’s family, the missionaries, and I all fasted for my mom to allow me to be baptized.
Shortly after our fast, my mom and I were having dinner together. Out of nowhere, she turned to me and said, “You know, if you want to get baptized, that’s your decision.”
I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.
She repeated herself. “You can get baptized.”
I was terrified. I could no longer use my mom as an excuse not to be baptized. I actually had to make the decision on my own. I started listening to the missionaries with an open mind.
When I started listening to the missionary lessons with real intent, I began to feel God’s love. It came as a feeling of peace and reassurance. Because of the love I felt for Him, I couldn’t bear the thought of being unclean before Him. I was willing to give up everything that was not in line with the commandments of God.
I remember thinking, “I wish I could redo my life.”
So when my friend casually mentioned that baptism was like being born again (see Mosiah 27:25), I could barely contain my excitement. I knew what I needed to do.
I was baptized and have since served a mission in Canada to help other people find the same joy I found in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The joy I felt when I got baptized wasn’t a one-time feeling. I still feel that peaceful, clean feeling every time I pray for forgiveness.

I began attending LDS meetings when I was nine years old. I received a very friendly welcome and felt comfortable there. Since that day, I remember only one or two times that I have not attended my Sunday meetings. My family investigated the Church for two years, and I was baptized when I was eleven.
I really enjoyed Primary. There was only one branch in the whole city in those days, and Primary was held on Saturday. We had to walk five kilometers (a little over three miles) to Primary each Saturday.

Along with Brother Marsh, many have received blessings as they have sought to establish the Lord’s restored Church throughout the world. One example is Johann and Theresia Huber, who helped establish the Church in Austria in the early 1900s.
When the Huber family was baptized into the Church and left Catholicism, the dominant faith of Austria, many social and legal issues arose. When people learned that the Huber children weren’t attending confession, they threatened to remove the children from their home. Some even told Theresia to leave Johann.
After World War I, previous religious constraints dissolved, allowing people to practice their faith more freely. The Lord watched over the Huber family as they continued to share the gospel, and soon a small branch began to meet in the Hubers’ barn. Johann was called to serve as the first branch president in Austria. He served for 25 years.1