Gospel Story Finder

Originally, our plans called for my return to teaching at a school in the western United States after completing my studies at Cornell University, in New York. But, to our surprise, the opportunity came for me to use my wildlife management training in the Arabian Gulf countries—first in Bahrain, and later in Dubai.
The ancient sport of falconry—hunting of birds and small animals with trained falcons—is still practiced on the Arabian Peninsula. In 1976, His Highness Sheikh Hamed ben Isa Al Khalifa, the Crown Prince of Bahrain, was looking for ways to combine the captive breeding of falcons with modern management techniques. He learned of my doctoral work on falcons, and that led to the job offer I received.
Bahrain is not a large oil producer, but it was there, in 1932, that oil was first discovered in Arabia. Rulers of the country have wisely used the resulting wealth to improve the lives of their people. Still, the contrasts are dramatic. Stopped at a traffic light one day on my way to a church meeting, I inspected the luxurious automobile just ahead of me while a cart donkey scratched his head on the back of my car.
The Bahrainis are well-grounded in modern life, yet the teachings of Islam play a major role in all aspects of their daily living. They are a friendly and gentle people, convinced that God is close by and aware of their needs.
Amid all that seemed different to us in Bahrain—the veiled women, open-air markets, and richness and luxury contrasting with the ancient life-style of the desert—we found the warm familiarity of fellow Latter-day Saints. With three other western families, we were part of a group of eight adults and eight children who held Church weekly meetings. Services are held on Friday in Muslim countries because that day is their Sabbath; Sunday is simply the second day of a six-day work week.
The group in Bahrain was organized into a branch in 1978, with Brother Sidney MaGill, a native of New Mexico, as the first branch president. With the arrival of other Latter-day Saints, it has since grown to thirty-five members.
After more than five years in Bahrain, my wife and I felt I had accomplished all I could at the falcon breeding center I had established there. We were thinking of returning to the United States when a similar position opened up in Dubai, one of the United Arab Emirates farther down the Arabian Peninsula. My employer wished me well and told me warmly, “We will consider you a Bahraini export and send you to Dubai.”
The position at the Dubai Wildlife Research Centre, as wildlife consultant to His Highness Sheikh Mohamad bin Rashid Al Maktoum, has given me the professional opportunity to do research on a much broader range of animals.
Unlike Bahrain, Dubai has only recently grown rich on oil, and in amounts of money difficult to imagine. Streets that were not even paved in 1968 are now lined with palaces and bordered with miles of shrubs and flowers grown with water distilled from the sea.
But the old ways are not forgotten; the sheikhs are still in touch with the people. Several times a week, my employer hosts a luncheon for anywhere from twenty to fifty men who have need to see him. We sit on the floor and eat with our hands. Some of the guests are bedouin herdsmen; others are merchants owning millions. All dress alike, and all are shown the same great courtesy. The sheikh’s guests may come to ask for help with their problems, to ask a favor, or simply to express their loyalty.
In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.
Leaders of the Arab countries in which we have lived recognize the need of workers from other nations to worship in their own way. But proselyting was not tolerated. There are occasional converts, however—nonmember spouses from western workers’ part-member families. The waters of the Persian Gulf, which welcomed the ships of Alexander the Great and other ancient mariners, are the baptismal font for these people and for the children in our branch.
Our two oldest children, Catharine and Andrew, moved with us to Bahrain in 1976 when they were small. We have since added to our family Eric Alkhalifa, born in Bahrain, and Sarah Elisabeth, born in the United Arab Emirates.
Socially, life on this peninsula has both drawbacks and advantages for our family. Women from other cultures feel fewer restrictions in Dubai than in some other countries on the peninsula, but, true to Muslim tradition, most native-born women do not mingle freely in mixed company. While this might seem restrictive in some western societies, it is not seen so by these women. The traditional Muslim family system is strong. It works very well for them, but it also limits the opportunity for foreigners to know Arab families well.
Members of the Church generally make friends with the many other foreign families in these Arab countries. (Only a small percentage of the workers in technical jobs are natives.) The ten children who attended our son Andrew’s last birthday party, for example, were citizens of eight different nations.
There are challenges to Church members here. Because of the six-day work week, for example, those who enjoy recreational opportunities—like diving in the gulf—must decide whether to give up their pleasures on our Sabbath.
For our children (and for us), there is the challenge of affluence among their associates. Catharine was one of eighty girls chosen to attend, at no cost, a private school on the palace grounds. It was built by the crown prince, who wanted his daughters to have a western education. It is staffed by teachers from England, and it operates much like any other private school—except for the month-long field trip to Europe by private jet.
In some ways, however, members here are sheltered from many evils of the world. Leaders of these Arab countries will not accept any activity that threatens Islam or the faith of its believers. For example, drug and alcohol abuse, pornography, and immodesty are strictly controlled because they are offensive to Muslim beliefs. While laws forbidding these things may seem restrictive to some, we enjoy the freedoms they provide. We adults do not have to contend with ugly influences, and we can feel confident that our children are not coming in contact with them in their schools.
Latter-day Saints and other foreign workers living in the countries of the Arabian Peninsula find their lives affected daily by the teachings of Islam. Television and other activities are interrupted during the afternoons and evenings for the call to prayers. Public gatherings begin with readings from the Koran. This book, believed by Muslims to be revelation given to the Prophet Muhammad, is the basis for all the laws in the countries of this region and contains specific guidelines for daily life.
Hospitality is one of the fundamental principles of Islam. In social or business contacts, an Arab will express sincere concern for his guests and expect them to share his proffered coffee or tea. This courtesy has allowed me to explain the Word of Wisdom to Arab men—from the king of Saudi Arabia in his palace to camel herdsmen around their camp fires. They accept my belief without offense because it is similar to their health code, which requires abstinence from pork and alcohol. Strict Muslims also do not smoke.
Once, at the request of my employer, I accompanied him on a visit to the ruler of another Muslim country. We were part of a small group of sheikhs and government officials. We dined at the palace and were flown to the ruler’s private retreat. During one of the meals, several of the Muslims ordered wine. When I declined, someone joked about my becoming a Muslim, so I explained that I don’t drink because of my religious beliefs. Their consciences pricked, two of the men urged me to join with them. His Highness, the crown prince of Bahrain—my employer at the time—silenced them, and, turning to me, said, “Joe, don’t ever change.” I have always been thankful for my employer’s appreciation of my faith.
Church members who find themselves living as guests in a foreign culture—a small minority of the population, far from the familiar things of home—might easily feel lost and alone. But the Church is almost always there. With or without a family, it will be comforting to remember that the love of our Father in Heaven, the effectiveness of gospel principles, and the ministrations of the Holy Ghost are not limited by the size of the group at worship or by the design of its surroundings. When you strive to make a chapel of your home, the Spirit will be there.

After a young mother was diagnosed with cancer, she felt alone and filled with fear. But as the news of her illness spread throughout her ward, she was soon surrounded by the love and concern of her fellow sisters. As her difficult treatments began, sisters drove her to her appointments and sat with her during long chemotherapy sessions. They prayed with her, encouraged her, brought her the few treats she could eat, and brought meals to her family week after week. Other sisters took time away from their own busy lives to clean her house. One sister knew certain treatments would make it hard to fall asleep, so she planned late-night visits to watch comedy movies. Instead of tossing in bed, the young mother was able to turn away from fears for a while and feel the healing power of laughter and friendship. Through these ministrations, priesthood blessings, and ward fasts, she was carried through an extremely difficult time, and strong bonds of love grew between all who were involved.

My third example highlights the importance of recognizing and accepting the will of God in our lives. Several years ago there was a young father who had been active in the Church as a boy but had chosen a different path during his teenage years. After serving in the military, he married a lovely girl, and soon children blessed their home.

One day without warning their little four-year-old daughter became critically ill and was hospitalized. In desperation and for the first time in many years, the father was found on his knees in prayer, asking that the life of his daughter be spared. Yet her condition worsened. Gradually, this father sensed that his little girl would not live, and slowly his prayers changed; he no longer prayed for healing but rather for understanding. “Let Thy will be done” was now the manner of his pleadings.

Soon his daughter was in a coma, and the father knew her hours on earth were few. Fortified with understanding, trust, and power beyond their own, the young parents prayed again, asking for the opportunity to hold her close once more while she was awake. The daughter’s eyes opened, and her frail arms reached out to her parents for one final embrace. And then she was gone. This father knew their prayers had been answered—a kind, compassionate Father in Heaven had comforted their hearts. God’s will had been done, and they had gained understanding. (Adapted from H. Burke Peterson, “Adversity and Prayer,” Ensign, Jan. 1974, 18.)

In my first general conference address, I shared an experience of my mother teaching me to work in our field. “Never look back,” she said. “Look ahead at what we still have to do.”

Toward the end of her life, while Mother battled cancer, she lived with Naume and me. One night I heard her sobbing in her bedroom. Her pain was intense, even after taking her last daily dose of morphine only two hours earlier.

I entered her room and sobbed with her. I prayed aloud for her to receive instant relief from her pain. And then she did the same thing she had done in the field years ago: she stopped and taught me a lesson. I will never forget her face at that moment: frail, stricken, and full of pain, gazing with pity on her sorrowing son. She smiled through her tears, looked directly into my eyes, and said, “It is not up to you or anyone else, but it is up to God whether this pain will go away or not.”

I sat up quietly. She too sat quietly. The scene remains vivid in my mind. That night, through my mother, the Lord taught me a lesson that will stay with me forever. As my mother expressed her acceptance of God’s will, I remembered the reason Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross at Golgotha. He said: “Behold I have given unto you my gospel, and this is [my] gospel which I have given unto you—that I came into the world to do the will of my Father, because my Father sent me.”

Several young women sit in a living room on a Sunday evening, talking about the gospel, as they are all wrapped up in patchwork quilts. The scene doesn’t seem so unusual until you know it’s the middle of summer in Utah, and it’s very warm outside.
One of the young women comments on the situation. “It’s not that the house is cold or anything,” she says. “We’re all wrapped up in our blankets because it’s just comforting.”
It’s comforting because these quilts have become a big part of their lives. Each young woman earned the squares on her quilt and stitched the final product together. The quilts have a very special meaning because of the growth each young woman went through as she collected squares for a year and sewed her quilt together.
When the leaders of the ward introduced the quilt project, they gave each young woman an unused pizza box with two quilt squares inside. Some of the young women were confused and not sure if they would ever have enough squares to make a quilt.
“When I got the two squares in a box, I thought, ‘How am I supposed to make a quilt out of two squares?’ ” says Maren M., 16.
But over the next year, the young women gained more squares. They earned a square for each Young Women lesson they attended and for special occasions like holidays, camp, and New Beginnings. They got squares for finishing Personal Progress value experiences and for reading the Book of Mormon. On her birthday, each young woman was given a large block with a picture of her favorite temple.
“When our leaders explained the whole project to me, I did not want to sew a quilt, so I was just going to put it off,” says Katie W., 13. “Then I started getting the quilt squares every week, and I was so excited because they were so cute. Then it built up into this huge pile.”
“Two quilt squares at a time didn’t seem like anything,” says Abby M., 14. “They were just two little squares of fabric, and I didn’t think much of it. But slowly as I’d take them home from church and put them in my box, the pile just grew and grew and became a stack. Then before long, it was already time to sew them together.”
Most of the young women in the ward had never used a sewing machine before and had no idea how to sew a quilt. So each young woman received help from a mother, grandmother, or Relief Society sister.
“I got to go up to Idaho and work with my grandma on it,” says Mikayla S., 14. “I don’t get to see or talk to her very often, so it was really nice to go up and work on something with her. I also learned that I like to sew.”
Mikayla wasn’t the only one who found a new talent in sewing. “I didn’t know how good I’d be at sewing, but I knew my grandma would be there to help me,” Abby says. “It actually just came naturally. It was a cool skill that I figured out I could do, and it was fun.”
Since making their quilts, some of the young women have even used their sewing skills for other projects. Maren made pillows for the young women she was in charge of at camp. Katie made headbands as Christmas gifts for her friends at school.
In addition to learning how to sew, the young women learned other lessons.
“I learned patience, because I’m not very good at sewing, and I had to be patient with myself and my imperfections,” says Amanda W., 16.
Madison S., 15, learned how to be humble and ask for help with her quilt. “That happens a lot in our lives,” she says. “We don’t know how to do everything we want to do, and we have to ask Heavenly Father and our leaders and those who have gone before us how they did it and how we can then do it. It’s really helpful to me.”
During the project, the young women also had the opportunity to strengthen their testimonies through the experiences that the squares represented.
“It’s the squares on the quilt that represent my testimony,” Katie says. “That’s how it is in my life. You can’t just expect a testimony to come all at once. You have to wait; you have to get it one piece at a time. It comes slowly, but in the end it builds up a big, beautiful blanket—or a big, beautiful testimony.”
Abby agrees with that. “My quilt is like my testimony,” she says. “It’s like the quilt squares are all the little parts that come together and make me all of the things that I value in life, all the things that I treasure.”
All of the young women treasure their quilts and the experiences that led them to finish the quilts. It’s a reminder of what they have accomplished.
“My favorite square would probably be the Book of Mormon challenge because that was the first time I read the Book of Mormon all the way through,” Mikayla says.
Like Mikayla, each of the young women can point to her favorite squares and remember the experiences that go along with them. Those experiences will help the young women as they look to the future.
“I sleep with my quilt every night,” Katie says. “Every night before I go to bed, I look at the temple, and it reminds me that that’s where I need to end up.”
Many young women put the temple image in the middle of their quilts to remind them the temple is their focus.
“Going to the temple is one of my biggest goals,” Amanda says. “The temple is the first thing I notice when I see my quilt. I think it gives me a sense of direction.”
Maren says that when she sees the temple on her quilt, it reminds her of how she wants to go there. “It helps me to remember to dress modestly when I get ready for school and to make good choices as I go throughout the day,” she says.
The young women are all glad they accomplished this project, and they look forward to the things that they will accomplish in the future as they continue to progress and gain the pieces that will make up their lives.

A spiritual highlight of Elder and Sister Kearon’s Cebu sojourn was when the couple climbed up a mountain to visit the Secuya family of Busay 2nd Ward, Cebu Stake. From their highland farm, the Secuyas traverse through rocky paths and streams just to reach public transportation that will take them to Church every Sunday.

“We were so happy to see Elder Kearon, he reminded us of Jesus Christ and His love,” said Mitzi Secuya, who with her family heartily welcomed the apostle and his wife. As the Kearons ministered to the family, son Ryle felt strengthened in his commitment to stay active: “We will continue to go to Church, for we know that the Lord loves us.”

“This is a beautiful memory we will have forever,” Elder Kearon imparted to the family at the conclusion of the visit. “You are beautiful, each of you,” Sister Kearon lovingly reassured the Secuya children, who had faced bullying for their situation.

Primary lessons can sure stir things up! Last week Sister Pierson said that since we were all getting baptized this year, we should try to do what Jesus would want us to do and follow his example. “Melissa,” she asked me, “why did Jesus do things for other people?”
I said, “Because he loved them.”
So we talked about serving people out of love, not for thanks. Then Sister Pierson’s eyes started to sparkle, and Josey groaned because she knew that that meant that Sister Pierson had an assignment for us. “I would like each of you to do something for someone every single day this week,” she challenged us, “without their knowing. Small acts of service can make a big difference in peoples’ lives.”
Boy, would that be hard in my family. Mom and Dad notice everything we do, especially since they usually have to ask umpteen times before it gets done. They’d be really suspicious if things just started happening.
Monday after school, Mom said she had to take Jeanette, my big sister, to the doctor. As soon as she left, I peeked outside to see my brother, Billy, shooting baskets. I knew he wouldn’t be coming into the house for a while. I unloaded the dishwasher and put everything away exactly right. I even got the glasses up high without dropping one. It was really Billy’s turn to unload the dishwasher, but he waits until Mom’s practically yelling before he does it. This time Mom wouldn’t yell, and Billy would think she did it for him, and no one would guess that I’d done it.
It felt strange that evening—sort of peaceful. Billy did his homework without being told to, and Jeanette and Mom cheerfully cleared up after dinner. No one said anything about the dishes having been put away.
On Tuesday we made oatmeal-walnut-chocolate chip cookies. After we were finished, I took six out of the cookie jar, wrapped them in a napkin, and put them into a small paper bag. Mrs. Henderson next door is a widow and lives by herself. I know that she loves Mom’s cookies, so I put them on her doorstep, rang the bell, and ran behind some bushes to watch. She was really pleased when she found the cookies.
On Wednesday after school, I noticed Jeanette hadn’t made her bed, so I made it for her. It was hard because I had to get the bedspread tucked under the pillow just right so that there was still enough to pull over the top. I finally did it, but when I took one last look, there was a whole bunch of extra sheet hanging down on one side. I almost cried. I tucked it under the mattress, because I didn’t have the heart to start all over again, and I just hoped she wouldn’t guess that it was me who’d made the bed. When she came home that night, Jeanette didn’t say anything about it.
I got up the next morning, wondering if it was even worth doing anything, since nobody seemed to care. I mean, nobody had noticed anything enough to even ask who had done it! But I wanted to tell Sister Pierson that I had done the entire week, so I kept going.
Dad still had mud caked on his boots from last weekend, and I knew he’d need them again this Saturday, so when I got home from school, I found the old knife he uses as a scraper and spent a whole hour getting them clean again. Most of that time I was thinking that he’d better appreciate it.
Friday morning, my lunch was all fixed and ready to go when I got downstairs. I guess Mom did it—I even got cheese crackers! So I gave her an extra-big hug and felt good again. In the afternoon I quietly put all the clean clothes away while she was peeling carrots and potatoes for dinner, and I felt even better.
Saturday morning Billy and I got up early to watch cartoons. We get to do that until everybody’s up and it’s time to do chores. Dad came clomping in, in his boots, tickled Billy and me for a minute, then gave Mom a kiss. “Thanks for cleaning these off, Honey,” he said. “I’ve been putting it off all week.”
Mom looked surprised. “But I didn’t. I—”
But Dad had clumped out the door already. I just kept my eyes on the television and smiled inside, where Mom couldn’t see.
Mom let us watch TV an extra half-hour before she turned it off and said, “Get dressed—time for chores.” Her voice was happy, so we knew that it would be a fun workday instead of a drag.
I got all the way across my room to the dresser before I realized that someone had already made my bed—corners tucked up, sheets and blankets perfectly even, and my pillow all smoothed out. Downstairs, Mom was whistling. I smiled, inside and out. Little things do make a big difference. I’d have a lot to tell Sister Pierson on Sunday.

I cannot begin to tell you how much the New Era has meant in my life. I received a copy of the New Era at the Young Women fireside in November of 1985, and it has strengthened my life. At first it just sat on my desk collecting dust. Then one day I came home from junior high feeling depressed, so I thought I would take a little peek. It just so happened that I spent the rest of the afternoon reading it—all!
Today I had a quarrel with my friend. When I got home from school I just fell on my bed and started to read the New Era. Then I prayed. Then I apologized to my friend, and the rest of the day has been wonderful!
I love the New Era so much, and I always know it is there when I need it, because we’re now subscribing to it.
Wendy FindgrenSandy, Utah

Although I was active in my Catholic faith, I felt that something was missing in my life. At 16 years old I have investigated eight different churches as I searched for the truth that would provide meaning and direction to my life.
I discovered that my friend Clint was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and he introduced me to the missionaries. They taught me a lot of things: I learned how to pray, and I was introduced to the Prophet Joseph Smith. I read the Book of Mormon and prayed if it was true and if the Church was really of God. I didn’t know it was the Holy Ghost, but I definitely felt the truthfulness as I felt a burning in my bossom.
I was baptized on March 13, 2012, and I fully embraced the Latter-day Saint way of life. I attended Church services and other activities, served and volunteered my time, and really felt like a true disciple of Jesus Christ.
After two years, I was prompted to prepare to serve a mission together with Clint and two other friends. We were glad the announcement lowering the mission age to 18 was given two years ago, and we felt worthy and ready to serve.
I was motivated by one of my goals: to bring my family to the Church and someday be sealed in the temple with them. That is why I went ahead and served a mission despite the many educational opportunities I was getting. There were scholarship offers and family friends offering to sponsor my education, but I decided to put the Lord first and serve Him. Thank goodness my father was supportive of my decision although he has not been baptized yet.
I served in the Philippines Tacloban Mission and fell in love with the people of Tacloban and Samar. My friends and I all learned so much, and though we served in different missions, we supported each other and we all felt the Lord’s watchful gaze upon us.
I experienced every missionary’s dilemma: I missed my family and wanted to see them as soon as I went home, but I enjoyed serving so much I didn’t want to leave my mission... My family was glad to see me, but pretty soon the temporal concerns we faced began to overwhelm me.
I needed to pay for my education and help with the needs of our family, and soon I became the breadwinner. I worked in a fastfood restaurant, was in construction, took odd jobs, and accepted any offer that would help put food on the table. I began to miss Church, and my RM friends would visit and remind me of my covenants.
I realized how hard life was when I didn’t put the Lord first, so I talked to my bishop, and he helped me with my repentance process. I began to truly understand the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
All the emotional and spiritual pain went away, and I was blessed because when I came back to Church my two younger siblings also joined the Church. Feeling stronger spiritually, my desire to marry my girlfriend in the temple also grew.
I met my wife in 2011 and at the age of 15 I somehow knew she was the one for me. I waited patiently and remained a good friend, growing together in the gospel. We were finally married in the temple on December 15, 2022. It was a very simple wedding since we were barely out of the pandemic, but the peace and joy that we felt was beyond compare.
On November 11, 2023, my father was finally baptized. My dream of our entire family being sealed in the temple finally came true.
I know I am still young and there is still a long way to go as I journey on the covenant path, but my life so far has taught me so many lessons that now guide and help me. Whatever problems we may face, staying on the covenant path is still the safest way to live our lives.

I love Emmanuel and Adiza Nelson. They are from Ghana. I respect them and want to share a part of their life story with you. They decided long ago to exercise faith in Christ consistently and constantly. That decision has changed their lives. With their permission, I will share some of their history. It is written in their words, with a little of my editing.
After joining the Church as a young married couple, they say: “We felt a sense of belonging. The members helped us modify our lives through the teachings and knew we were in the right place. We attended church regularly, learnt about the principles and commandments so we could govern ourselves.”
They learned as new members about the Word of Wisdom. Brother Nelson worked at a tobacco factory, but that seemed inconsistent with the Word of Wisdom. So, they together decided that he would quit: “He resigned his job without any employment in sight.” This decision brought them many financial challenges. Sister Nelson had a “scanty salary as a staff nurse midwife” at the time and Brother Nelson “tried many odd jobs to help sustain the family.” Sister Nelson also “did a lot of petty trading such as selling fresh fish, sugar, roasted groundnut and peanut butter after work from house to house in effort to sustain the family ... We became very industrious. We learnt a lot of things that could help sustain the family.”
During this challenging time, Brother Nelson “assisted in most of the house chores like washing, cleaning, ironing, cooking, baking and even taking care of our son while [Sister Nelson was] at work in the hospital. He wrote to many companies for employment, but he never succeeded.”
The Nelsons exercised their faith in Christ constantly and consistently. In their words: “Even though we were financially hard-pressed to take care of our children and those of our relatives, we NEVER missed paying a full tithe on our increase and did not deliberately miss church. There were times he had to walk to church on Sundays and walked to church for other activities far from our home so we could enjoy the full blessings. In the midst of these challenges, other relatives brought their children to live with us so we could train them in the way of the Lord. We were not financially sound, but we took them in. We worshipped and struggled together with them. These challenges drew us closer to the Savior, and our salvation. He never left us alone or uncomforted.”
They had more children of their own and changed how they behaved as parents in raising their children. They “tried to follow the admonitions of the leaders. We stopped flogging them and rather used the word of God to teach and counsel even though at times we were pushed to the wall. This brought a bond of unity amongst them. They still seek each other’s welfare till now.”
Even with their steady obedience to the Lord, the Nelsons had difficult trials: “In 1996, we had an unforgettable experience. We had run out of food and were thinking of how to feed the children when they came back from school. I left for work that morning a bit worried. Emmanuel shared that when the children came back from school and my younger sister asked what could be prepared for supper. Knowing very well that there was no food, he asked her to go and make fire. Minutes later she came and told him that the fire was ready. Emmanuel asked her to go look for a medium-sized saucepan and fill it halfway with water and set it on the fire. She came later and reported that the water was boiling.”
Not knowing what more to do, Brother Nelson “then entered a room, shut the door and cried unto the Lord to rescue the family for the sake of the children. Just after he ended the prayer, he heard a knock on our main gate. As he came out, he saw someone with a headload and instructed the children to go see who was there. To his surprise, it was his mother-in-law who had travelled all the way from Ada to play a visit. The load was actually food stuff and she even had to leave some at the roadside of which the children later went for. We had enough to eat that day, and we have never run out of food since then.”
After 11 years of not having a steady job, Brother Nelson was offered a wonderful position and was able to provide for his family. Through consistently and constantly exercising faith in Christ unto repentance and consistent obedience to the commandments, the Nelsons became able to provide temporally for their family. More importantly, they provided spiritual strength and faith to their children. Their children observed these blessings and experiences and today are strong and stalwart in their faith, like their parents. The Nelsons have continued to exercise their faith in the Lord and today they lead the Nigeria Uyo Mission as mission president and companion, blessing their missionaries and all the people they teach.

On Sacrifices to Keep the Sabbath
Sometimes we worked until midnight on Saturday to keep from breaking the Sabbath. We went to church the next day, often without much sleep. Once we came home from church, and a cow had gotten caught in the pasture fence and died. There were times when we had millions of yen worth of damage to our cut hay because it had lain in the rain on the Sabbath. We knew accidents didn’t happen because it was Sunday. If you worry about that kind of thing, you would never be able to keep the Sabbath. Accidents can happen anytime.

Years ago when my children were small, I took them with me to go shopping. While out, we found several inexpensive Nativity sets, one of them in a small box. This Nativity was crudely made, probably of ceramic, and had only five pieces—Mary, Joseph, a shepherd, a Wise Man, and a baby Jesus.
As my son opened the box, a piece popped out and fell to the floor, breaking into two. After consoling my son for his mistake, I thought to myself, “Well, I guess I’m going to buy that ugly Nativity set.” It was not a Nativity I would normally have displayed in my home, but because my son broke it, I bought it and took it home.
Once the children were in bed, I pulled out the little Nativity set and considered throwing it away. It was small and ugly in my eyes. The piece that had broken, however, was the baby Jesus. I couldn’t just throw baby Jesus away! So, I glued the piece together and made a little spot in our home each year afterward for that small Nativity.
Last year, as I was placing the Nativity pieces into bits of paper to protect them, I glanced again at the baby Jesus. Then I glanced at the box as I placed that piece inside it. I noticed that I had never removed the price tag: $1.25. That was the price I had paid to redeem my son’s mistake.
That thought made me stop and ponder on our Savior. Thoughts about Jesus Christ flooded my mind, and I thought of the price He had paid to redeem me from my sins. What a small price I had paid for my son’s mistake in comparison to His sacrifice for my sins. I paid the price of the Nativity for my son because I love him, and the Savior paid the price for us because He loves us (see 1 Corinthians 6:19–20).
Just as I had repaired the broken baby Jesus, He can repair our broken lives. I thought of the gratitude I have for Jesus Christ’s Atonement for me and for each of God’s children, and for the hope we can have in our Savior. That ugly Nativity isn’t so ugly to me anymore.

As you look in the first file you’ll see Adam’s plan. It’s simple: “For every five dollars I get, I give two to my mission fund,” he says. He also always makes sure to pay his tithing before he sets aside the 40 percent for his mission.
Adam started saving while trying to fulfill his goals in the Duty to God program. One of the goals is to start saving money for a mission. “I just opened a bag, stuck some money in, and started,” he says. He plans on opening a bank account right away.
Starting at 12 might seem early, but Adam’s really excited that he has seven years to save for his mission. He’s not old enough to have a part-time job, but he does jobs for people in his neighborhood, such as emptying recycling bins, shoveling walks, and putting newspapers on the front doorsteps of a few elderly widows. He’s up early in the morning to get his jobs done, and he counts his jobs as small blessings that will one day help his mission fund add up.
“A mission is one of the most important parts of your life. Save up now, and go for two years to help people come to the gospel, and you will be blessed,” Adam says.
Along with his financial preparation, Adam has also set a goal to finish reading the Book of Mormon by the time he’s 13. He reads every day. He’s also trying to magnify his calling as a deacon, so he will be prepared to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood when the time comes. His dad went on a mission, as did his grandpa and great-grandpa Sessions. He’s looking forward to following in their footsteps.

The boy watched his father’s horse plunge away into the frigid whiteness. Then he started back toward his tepee, anxious to share the story of his first coup with his mother, grandfather, and little sister. But he had only gone a few steps when someone pulled at his arm. It was Yellow Fox, a village boy. “Your pony is gone too,” he said excitedly. “I saw it run away when the Shoshones first came!”
“My father will find it, with the others,” Little Wind responded confidently.
“He’ll not find your pony!” Yellow Fox insisted. “I saw your horse go toward the high rock county. Your father and the others rode off in another direction. They’ll not find your pony. But maybe a Shoshone will.”
Little Wind gazed anxiously toward the great mountains veiled in glacial mist. His pony had been given to him as a gift by his father before the big hunt. It was priceless to him. He had to find it before the next storm or he might never see it again. If he hurried, he could be back before his mother even knew he was gone. If he waited for his father to return with the horses, it might be too late. I’m well dressed against the weather in this big otter coat Mother made me, he assured himself. Besides, my pony probably hasn’t gone very far.
Little Wind pulled his wrappings snugly around him, gave a quick glance toward his tepee, and hurried off in the direction of the hoofprints in the snow.
What Little Wind did not know was that a new storm was gathering just beyond the mesas. Hidden behind the fog, it crouched like some huge, nameless beast ready to lunge across the sky and engulf anyone or anything careless enough to leave the fires of home.
(To be concluded.)

I was serving as a senior sister missionary in the Missouri Independence Mission when Church meetings were canceled and we began self-isolating in our apartments. We used our phones and computers to keep in touch with members and to reach out to those we were working with, who didn’t attend church regularly.
To keep busy, I decided to do some family history, even though for quite a while it has been difficult for me to find any new names. When I logged on to FamilySearch, I found a notification of a record waiting to be attached. That one record led me to find about 70 people in my line. After five days, the flow of names stopped. Later that day, we found out we were all being released to go home. I am sad to leave, but I also feel blessed that I was able to serve family on the other side of the veil during this difficult time.
Kim Nielson, Oregon, USA

“The toughest part about learning the bagpipes was sticking it out,” says Austin, who has been playing for four years. Tyler Abeyta, a former Nauvoo band member currently serving a mission in Sacramento, California, agrees. “I was 13, and after a month of trying to learn the bagpipes, I quit. My good friend was also taking lessons, and he encouraged me to start again. I knew with all my heart if I were to even come close to learning the pipes, I would need the help of my Heavenly Father. So I kneeled down one night. I asked Him for His help and His blessing to be upon me as I continued to learn. When I started again, I definitely knew that the Spirit was with me and helped me along the way.”

Mildred Coloma Rivera was born on April 17, 1941, and grew up in rural San Manuel, Tarlac. She came from a large family, with her parents engaged in tedious farm work. “We were a poor family,” she recalls, “and we struggled economically, so I looked for opportunities to earn.”
In 1961, Mildred started working for an American family at Clark Air Base in Pampanga. The Apel family were Latter- day Saints and Mildred was intrigued by the family’s faith. She told the family head, Charles Apel, that she wanted to come to Church with them on Sunday, to which Brother Apel replied positively.
Mildred liked what she saw and felt. “I knew right away the Church was true,” she affirms, “and I was interested in the Church because of the friendliness of the Apel family and also the members.” She was taught gospel principles by members of the small Church unit in Clark, as there were no missionaries available in that area.
Mildred soon gained a testimony. “I want to be baptized,” she excitedly told the Apels. The Church was so new in the Philippines that the pioneering missionaries—who had been given authority to baptize converts—were too far away in Manila to know about Mildred and her request. Thus, unit leaders in Clark had to get special permission from Church headquarters in Salt Lake City to baptize her.
Mildred waited patiently and prayed for a positive response. Her prayers were answered when permission was granted to hold a baptismal service, which took place on August 5, 1961. On that day, Mildred Coloma Rivera was baptized by Brother Paul Sharp, becoming one of the very first members of the Church in the Philippines.
“I felt so elated that I kept thanking God for being baptized,” Mildred joyfully remembers. Sister Rivera became one of the pioneer members of the Angeles Branch and grew in her testimony of the restored gospel as she prayed, read the scriptures, and attended Church services.

“It was a great opportunity to strengthen my testimony,” says Daniel Kirkpatrick, who baptized his friend Jeron Fosjord after helping the missionaries teach him. “It helped me appreciate the priesthood more because it wasn’t my dad performing the ordinance. It wasn’t one of the older adults or even my older brother. It was me. I had the priesthood, and I could use it.”

Daniel, a priest in the Pioneer Park Ward, was struck by the eternal consequences of performing Jeron’s baptism. “Jeron is going to be a missionary some day. He’ll affect others, and they’ll affect others. It was a sobering thought, a wake-up call, that what I was doing will have eternal echoes.”

When the day finally came, naturally Dan was nervous about performing an ordinance in front of other people. “I was a little scared,” he says. “I probably asked Jeron his middle name a thousand times to make sure I got it right.” It didn’t help that the font hadn’t filled all the way.

“The water didn’t even reach our knees,” Dan says.

He got the name right, but the water was so low that it took him four tries before Jeron was completely submerged. “I just about drowned him one time because as he was coming up I saw that he hadn’t gone all the way under, so I panicked and pushed him down again.”

After the third try, they went ahead with the talks and musical number while the font filled some more. By Dan’s fourth and final try, the water was up to their waists. “It was easy then,” he says.

Despite it being a “rough first time,” Dan loved the experience: “It was awesome.” Not only did it strengthen his testimony and help him appreciate the priesthood more, the experience excited him about serving a mission.

“I’ve felt the fears and tasted the successes of a full-time mission,” he says. “I’m excited to get out there and serve.”

On August 7, 2014, Hurricane Iselle approached and directly hit the Big Island. The Waikahe and Pahoa Wards of our Hilo Hawaii Stake were particularly hard hit. Miraculously, there were no reports of deaths or damages to homes. All missionaries were safe and accounted for. Church buildings in Hilo and Pahoa were used as shelters. Many homes and communities were cut off from access to power and communications due fallen trees blocking the roads. On Friday evening at 9:30 PM, we established communications and made a plan to serve. At 12:30 PM on Saturday, August 9, 2014, Member and non-member volunteers from around the island, including members from the Kona stake, separated into groups of eight to ten people at the Orchidland Chapel. There were two chainsaws per group. Volunteers then went throughout the streets in the community where trees had not yet been cleared and moved debris. At 4 PM, the service project came to an end. I witnessed firsthand what Relief Society General President Linda K. Burton phrased, “First observe, then serve.”5

I experienced two tender moments while serving the Puna Community and Saints that I would like to share. The first house we helped looked like a war zone. You could not see the front entrance into the house. It took us a couple of hours to remove debris and repair the walkway to the house of this widow. I was hot and sweaty and probably didn’t look like the stake president. At the conclusion of our service and as we said our good byes, this poor sister finally recognized that the stake president was there, all hot and sweaty from working in her yard. She was so touched and moved that her stake president would come to her house to help her. The depth of her emotion touched me deeply. The last house we visited was to an active sister and less-active brother, both in their later years. Their backyard was a tangle of broken albezia branches. The tree branches that fell had crushed their chain link fence as if it had been warm butter. With much effort, we cleaned every branch that had fallen into their yard. Upon our saying good bye, this less-active brother gave me the warmest hug. In his hug, I felt the sweet love of our Savior. It was a purifying experience that changed me for the better. I know that we have a loving Father in Heaven who wants us to move forward in our lives despite temporary and long-term hardship.

Just a couple of weeks before, I had had the privilege of taking my family downtown as Santa Claus made his appearance. It was interesting. Crowds gathered. One little girl had been standing on the side of the curb for what seemed to her like many minutes, waiting for this cherished event. Just as Santa Claus was to make his entry, great throngs of people crowded in front of her, blocking her view, and she began to cry.
A six-foot-three man who stood by her asked, “What’s the matter, dear?”
She said, “I have been waiting to see Santa, and now I can’t see him.”
He picked her up and placed her on his shoulders, providing her a commanding view. As Santa Claus came by, she waved her little hand toward him. He smiled and waved back to her and to everyone else in the crowd.
The little girl grabbed the hair of that big fellow and exclaimed, “He saw me! He saw me and smiled at me! I’m so glad it’s Christmas!” That little girl had the Christmas spirit.