Gospel Story Finder

When my oldest son, Eric, was a senior in high school, he wanted to give his family gifts for Christmas. He had little income, so he decided on a gift of the heart.
For each family member Eric made a list of the 10 things he would miss most about him or her while he was at college and on his mission. His lists were rolled up like scrolls and tied with ribbon.
At Christmas we opened our gifts with great enthusiasm and curiosity. My list included things like “Watching her try to use the computer” and “Her hugs.” It must have taken him a long time to think of 10 things for each of us. I cried, his brothers laughed, and his only sister cherished her list. It still hangs on the door of her room today, three years later.
Now as Eric serves a mission in Guatemala, we wanted to send him something different for his last Christmas before returning home. Each of us wrote our own version of the present he gave us three years ago. We titled them “Ten Things I Have Missed Most about Eric While He’s Been on His Mission.”
For some of us it was easy. Eric’s brothers had a hard time but finally finished. It was a great project for family home evening, and we all laughed and cried as we thought of our 10 things. What a great family tradition we’ve started and hope to continue as our other children leave for college and missions.
I will never forget this gift from a busy son who thought to make a gift that would make a difference. We are grateful we were able to receive this from him.

NARRATOR: At the age of 12, Evan Stephens crossed the ocean with his parents, walked across the plains, and settled with them in Willard, Utah, where his desire to become a musician took root. While he was still 12, Evan attended his first choir rehearsal. Though he loved music and intended to become a musician, he had not learned to play or read music. The choir sang from some expensive anthem books, and young Evan dared to ask to take one home. At first he was most emphatically refused, but after much pleading from Evan the choir leader relented and young Evan had the book for a night. And it was an eventful night. From that one book he learned the meaning of key signatures, time signatures, note values, the staves, and marks of expression. Rising rapidly in the world of music, Brother Stephens eventually became an outstanding conductor of the Tabernacle Choir. He was a prolific composer and author, publishing several songbooks. Twenty-six of his compositions appear in our hymnbook. (Personal reminiscence of J. Spencer Cornwall.)

Many years later, when I was grown up and had my own family, we heard the message of the gospel of Jesus Christ when the missionaries knocked on our door. There was something in these missionaries—a glow of trust, a glow of hope, a glow of security, and a glow of love—that looked in the beginning to us like a fairy tale.
Could it be true? Could it really be true that we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father and that through the Spirit of Jesus Christ I could come to an understanding of the feelings I had had at Christmastime in my childhood? Because this door opened, the understanding that led to our conversion and baptism helped us see that we could experience Christmas every day when we focus always on Him, listen to Him, and embrace Him with a loving, grateful heart. What joy came to my family when we opened our souls to the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ!

When Babe was about eight years old, she earned money for a harmonica by cutting some neighbors’ grass. It was so high that she had to cut it with a sickle before she could mow it. When she got the harmonica, she practiced for hours and hours. Her brothers played the drums, two of her sisters played the piano, her other sister and her father played the violin, her mother sang, and Babe played her harmonica. Even when she was older and famous for her athletic prowess, she was good enough to play her harmonica in public.

Samuel and Anna-Maria Koivisto showed both commitment and willingness. Soon after their marriage, the Koivistos moved from Finland to Sweden to pursue career opportunities. After arriving, Brother Koivisto was invited to visit with President Leif G. Mattsson, a counselor in the Göteborg Sweden Stake presidency. Because Samuel did not speak Swedish, they spoke in English.

Following a brief visit, President Mattsson asked Samuel to serve as a ward mission leader. Samuel pointed out the obvious, “But I don’t speak Swedish.”

President Mattsson leaned over his desk and pointedly asked, “Did I ask if you could speak Swedish, or are you willing to serve the Lord?”

Samuel answered, “You asked if I was willing to serve the Lord. And I am.”

Samuel accepted the calling. Anna-Maria also accepted callings. Both served faithfully and learned to speak beautiful Swedish along the way. Commitment and willingness to serve the Lord have characterized the lives of Samuel and Anna-Maria. They have taught me that when we serve, we use the talents we have, and the Lord then helps us accomplish His purposes.

Is not all of this a miracle, my brethren and sisters? I mention in passing one other impressive and remarkable thing. This coming July will be a season of celebration for members of the Church in the British Isles. There will be commemorated the 150th anniversary of the opening of the British Mission. That, too, was an act of faith.
The year was 1837. The Latter-day Saints were settled in two locations, most of them in and around Kirtland, Ohio, and others, some eight hundred miles distant in Missouri. It was a season of economic depression. Banks failed, fortunes were lost. Among the failures was the bank in Kirtland. A spirit of criticism and evil speaking threatened the Church. In those circumstances, Joseph Smith said to Heber C. Kimball, “Brother Heber, the Spirit of the Lord has whispered to me. ‘Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim my gospel, and open the door of salvation to that nation’” (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1967], p. 104).
It is difficult for us to comprehend the enormity of that call. Such a request from one ordinary man to another would have been incredible. It meant leaving a family destitute. It meant traveling to New York and crossing the sea when he had no money. It meant that a man with very little schooling, who had grown up and lived in frontier communities, would go to the great cities of the British Isles among a people known for their education and enlightenment.
In his mind, Heber C. Kimball demurred. He thought of all of these problems. He then wrote in his journal:
“However, all these considerations did not deter me from the path of duty; the moment I understood the will of my Heavenly Father, I felt a determination to go at all hazards, believing that He would support me by His almighty power, and endow me with every qualification that I needed; and although my family was dear to me, and I should have to leave them almost destitute, I felt that the cause of truth, the Gospel of Christ, outweighed every other consideration” (Life of Heber C. Kimball, p. 104).
That undertaking will be much spoken of during these coming months. Suffice it to say that Heber C. Kimball and his six associates, at the call of Joseph Smith, left their homes, traveled over land and sea, and laid the foundation of a mighty work in the British Isles, from where the cause spread to Europe and subsequently across the world.

Elder John Taylor was a man who stood up for his beliefs. Many people called him “Defender of the Faith.” One example of his courage happened when he went to Columbus, Ohio, to speak at a Church conference.
Church member 1: Elder Taylor, many people from the town will be there. Many of them wish to tar and feather you tonight.
Church member 2: Our advice is to not go and so avoid this danger altogether.
John: I did not come to Ohio to be scared off. I will go and speak. If you do not want to come with me, I will go alone.
When Elder Taylor arrived, he started by telling the congregation that he was from Canada—a country still ruled by a monarch.
John: Gentlemen, I now stand among men whose fathers fought for and won freedom, the greatest blessing ever given to the human family.
John: I have been informed that you plan to tar and feather me for my religious opinions. Is this what you have inherited from your fathers? If so, you now have a victim!
Elder Taylor then opened his vest.
John: Gentlemen, come on with your tar and feathers. Your victim is ready!
No one moved. No one spoke. No one came forward. After a pause, he spoke for three hours!
After the conference, community leaders came up to speak with him.
Leaders: Mr. Taylor, we apologize for any bad intentions of some of the community members.

by Deborah J. Lingle
The Young Women of the Battleground Ward, Vancouver Washington West Stake, responded to a challenge. Their advisers encouraged each girl to purchase a Book of Mormon or A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, write her testimony inside, and give it to a nonmember.
Catching the spirit of the challenge of missionary work, the 13 girls managed to give away 22 books in eight months.
After prayerful consideration, Jennifer Goodner, a Mia Maid, felt inspired to place her book with a friend at school. The friend thanked her and said she’d been waiting for Jennifer to approach her because she had so many questions about the Church.
Each girl had experiences that were unique. Alyce Clark, a Mia Maid, managed to place seven books by herself, one to a man who had rejected the Book of Mormon for many years.
The project was an overwhelming success. The process of writing their testimonies helped the girls to examine their beliefs and grow closer to their Heavenly Father. The experience also gave the girls the self-confidence to speak out about the gospel.

One young convert named Fernando was inactive in his own church, but he had great faith in Jesus Christ. He sought out many churches and talked to many ministers but he could not find a church that could answer his most important questions, or fulfill his deepest needs. He finally became disillusioned with organized religions and stopped looking. Then one day he happened to see two sister missionaries teaching with a street board. The board featured a painting of Christ ordaining his apostles. Fernando, who was an amateur artist, liked the painting. The sister missionaries told him they had more paintings like that. They invited him to come to church and see them.

He came. It was testimony meeting, and he was touched by the testimonies, especially that of one sister who had just received her patriarchal blessing. “She bore a testimony of great love,” he later remembered.

He began receiving the discussions. “When I first started studying, I wanted to argue with the elders. I decided I would listen to their whole message, and then refute it all at once. But when I had heard their message, I found that my arguments were destroyed in advance. It really could be true, and if it was true, it was important. If God had really restored his church, then I had to be a part of it. They taught me many things that were hard, many things that would require a great sacrifice compared to the life I was then living. But if it was true, it didn’t matter how hard it was! I had a peaceful feeling about the message I had received. It was all true.”

But those hard things loomed larger and larger as baptism approached, and there were friends to scoff and problems to discourage Fernando. For a time he withdrew from his investigation and his contacts with the Church, even though he knew in his heart it was all true. One rainy night during that time of low spirits and temptation, he went to see a friend off on the train.

He helped her on with her bags and was saying good-bye when he felt the train begin to move. He ran to the door, but it was too late. Santiago de Compostela was rushing past him at a speed that made jumping suicidal.

He got off at the first stop—a dark, deserted station house without a human dwelling anywhere in sight. He walked many kilometers through a cold rain, totally soaked, up a mountain road and into a village. There he found a phone booth, the only shelter available. He entered the booth and phoned a friend who would have to walk many blocks to inform his parents of his plight. Then he took off most of his soaked clothing and stood shivering through the night. Since he had absolutely nothing else to do to pass the long hours, he began thinking seriously about the gospel. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I said a prayer, even though I was afraid I wasn’t worthy of an answer. I had tried to separate myself as far as I could from the Lord and his people.”

He spent the rest of the night praying, thinking, and reading from a small New Testament that he happened to have in his pocket. “During that time, my testimony returned to me. I felt dry and warm even though I was wet. Whenever I prayed for comfort, comfort came to me. The words came to me ‘All is well. Do not worry.’ But I’m afraid my rebelliousness made me unwilling to accept the answer. I asked again and again, although I knew I had already been answered. Then there was a sudden peal of thunder in the night. I had seen no lightning, nor had there been any thunder in the storm before. I felt it was a message; I was being told, ‘Be quiet. You already know the answer to your question.’

“I know that not everybody needs a clap of thunder, because some people are better listeners than I was. I know that a quiet sense of peace is just as meaningful an answer to prayer, but the Lord knew that I needed a night alone in a phone booth and a clap of thunder, and that’s just what he gave me. Every person receives the testimony he needs if he asks sincerely.”

Fernando finally got out of the phone booth, got home again, and dried off, but not long thereafter he was once more soaking wet as he rose from the waters of baptism. But he felt warm, as he had in the phone booth, and this time he knew he was truly at home.

“Baptism wasn’t the end but the entrance,” Fernando says. “I want much more. I was 15 when I was converted. Since then I have had more love for everyone—my father, my mother, my friends, everyone!

“At first I was afraid that my friends would laugh at me when they found out I was LDS, and some of them did. My best friend rejected me. My whole family was angry with me. But I am not ashamed of the gospel. I make sure everyone knows I am a Mormon. I give them copies of the Book of Mormon and bear my testimony. The blessings are much greater than the pain of rejection. Whenever I have a problem, I pray, and it is like plugging in an electric plug. The Lord may not solve the problem for me, but he lets me know what I need to do to solve it for myself, and that’s all I ask.

“I have a testimony that I won’t let be broken. This is the true Church, and I mean to magnify my callings. I am excited about fulfilling a proselyting mission as well as my larger mission in life. I will soon receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, and I feel very inadequate. I know that it is a solemn obligation to accept the greatest power on earth. I hope I won’t ever fail to honor it.”

Masha and her family are a great help to the missionaries. They invite friends to listen to gospel discussions. They invite the missionaries to dinner. And for missionaries needing help with the Russian language, Masha is a friendly tutor.

“She always talks with new missionaries and helps them learn to speak,” says Elder Samuel Drown. “They don’t have to worry about making mistakes around her, because she makes them feel good about themselves.” She teaches them games Russian children use to learn words and numbers. She gave one missionary a kind nickname that included a vowel sound the elder had trouble pronouncing. He appreciated the fun teaching method—and learned to say the sound correctly.

After high school, Doug was not deluged with scholarship offers. By college standards, he was still a very average runner. He did finally receive an offer from a junior college near his home, however. At the end of the first year there he surprised everyone, including himself, by running a 4:10.7 and winning the mile at the Northern California Championships. At this point, Doug decided to go to BYU. He didn’t have a scholarship or even an invitation, but he went anyway. When you’ve spent a whole year in the fifth quarter, you’re game for about anything. That fall he went out for cross-country and finished as the eighth man on the team.

Elyssa also loves her tata (grandpa). When Elyssa was a baby, Tata would play the guitar for her. Later they sang together. Tata was with her a lot because he developed a serious disease and couldn’t go to work. Each day, he picked her up after school and took her to eat at a place of her choice.
Since Tata couldn’t go to work, he did much of the cooking at home and became a really good cook. Elyssa helped him and became a good cook herself. Their specialty was empanadas, a sort of meat pie that is held in one’s hands. Nana remembers her working beside Tata, flour all over her little face.
“They grew very close,” Nana recalls. “She was his life.”

While serving as a bishop, I witnessed the blessings of the Atonement in the lives of Church members who committed serious transgressions. As a judge in Israel, I listened to their confessions and, when needed, placed restrictions upon them, such as not partaking of the sacrament for a time.
A young single adult in our ward was dating a young woman. They allowed their affections to get out of control. He came to me for counsel and help. Based on what was confessed and the impressions of the Spirit to me, among other things, he was not permitted to partake of the sacrament for a time. We met regularly to ensure that repentance had happened, and after an appropriate time I authorized him to again partake of the sacrament.
As I sat on the stand in that sacrament meeting, my eyes were drawn to him as he now partook of the sacrament worthily. I witnessed arms of mercy, love, and safety encircling him as the healing of the Atonement warmed his soul and lifted his load, resulting in the promised forgiveness, peace, and happiness.

Early one pleasant Indian summer morning, Signe and Anna Walstad set out for school. They wore sunbonnets, plain gingham dresses, and no shoes. Everyone went barefoot to school in nice weather, except Teacher.
Usually Signe and Anna would swing their lunch pails as they covered the dusty two miles between their homestead and the schoolhouse. But today there was no racing down the slope or jumping over buffalo wallows or banging of pails, for today each pail held a big red apple for the girls to eat at noon.
“Your father had a little money left after buying the fencing—just enough to get each of you an apple,” Mama had explained as she carefully set an apple next to the bread and butter in each girl’s pail.
Signe’s mouth watered just thinking of the apple’s sweet crispness. She was tempted to eat hers right away, but as she stopped to open her pail, Anna gave her a cross look of disapproval. Anna was always disapproving of the things Signe wanted to do. Sighing just a little sigh, Signe put the cover back on her pail and contented herself by imagining how good the apple would taste at noon. She would eat it one small bite at a time, she decided, to make it last longer. Not one drop of juice would escape to dribble down her chin.
“Let’s play jackrabbits and prairie dogs,” Anna suggested, breaking into Signe’s pleasant daydream. “You take prairie dogs, and I’ll count jackrabbits.”
“All right,” Signe agreed. They often played this game to pass the time as they walked to and from school. Signe stared across the prairie, hoping to spot a prairie dog first. I hope that I beat her, Signe thought. I get tired of her always being better than I am at everything. Then Signe pointed excitedly. “Over there, Anna! That’s two for me.”
“Where?” Anna questioned the younger girl. “I don’t see anything.”
“They just disappeared down their hole.”
“I don’t believe you,” challenged Anna, tossing her golden curls.
“Come on, then, and I’ll show you.” Signe ran over to where she’d seen the two rodents disappear. “I’ll find the burrow.”
Anna followed reluctantly. “There are prairie dog holes everywhere. It doesn’t count unless I see the prairie dogs too.”
“Here it is. Right where I told you.” Signe turned triumphantly, but Anna had stopped in her tracks and was staring wide-eyed at the ground.
“What’s the matter—” Signe began. Then she spied the rattlesnake in the grass between them. The snake was coiled with its tail rattling a warning. Its head was raised toward Anna, who was paralyzed with fear.
Signe’s thoughts raced. It wasn’t a very big snake, but even the bite of a small rattler could be fatal. She had to act fast before the snake struck Anna.
Signe looked around for a weapon. An old fence post or board would do, but there wasn’t anything she could use. Her hand clutched her lunch pail tightly. Her pail! With all her strength, Signe brought the pail down hard on the snake’s head. The snake writhed in surprise, then turned toward Signe. It tried to bite her hand, but the pail acted as a shield. Signe hit the rattler again and again until it lay limp and harmless in the prairie grass.
“You killed it,” Anna said, daring to breathe again.
Signe couldn’t speak. She felt cold and weak. She could hardly believe that she’d killed a rattlesnake. She’d always been deathly afraid of snakes. Then she remembered her apple. She opened her pail, and her apple, now soft and bruised, rolled out into the prairie dust. Signe thought about how she had longed to eat the apple. It didn’t seem to matter now. All that mattered was that she and Anna were safe. She picked up the apple, wiped off the one place that was still firm, took a bite, and then tossed it toward the prairie dog burrows. They probably never get fresh fruit, either, she thought.
The girls didn’t speak as they continued on to school. Signe heard the meadowlarks greet the morning. A jackrabbit raced across the road ahead, but Anna didn’t bother counting it. Everything looked the same as before, but Signe felt different. She glanced at her sister and wondered if Anna felt different too.
Suddenly Anna stopped. She reached into her pail and brought out her unbruised apple. Carefully she polished it on the sleeve of her dress, then handed it to her younger sister. “Here,” she said. “You deserve this.”
Signe smiled as her fingers rubbed the smooth red skin of the apple. She took a bite of the juicy red apple, then, laughing, held it out to Anna. “How about sharing?”
Anna smiled, took a bite of the apple, and laughed as some of the sweet juice dribbled down her chin.

In December 2015 in Madziva, Zimbabwe, Naume and I saw a man plowing his field with a team of two oxen. I was amazed to see that one animal was a huge ox and the other was a small bullock. I was perplexed. I wondered aloud, “Why would a farmer plow with two unequal animals in the yoke?”

Naume’s mother, who was standing nearby, pointed to the yoke. I looked more closely and saw traces connecting the yoke to the bullock. The large ox was pulling all the weight, and the tiny bullock was being broken in, learning how to plow.

I immediately thought of the Lord’s invitation: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matthew 11:29). In a normal yoking, the load is distributed equally. When we are yoked with Jesus Christ, He bears the load, and we share in the joy of the labor.

It all started with headaches. After a while, the headaches intensified and were happening daily. Sometimes they caused me to vomit. Because of this, my doctor requested an MRI.
The results of the MRI showed that I had a tumor called a germinoma in the central nervous system of my brain. When we first found out about the tumor in October 2023, we didn’t know if it was malignant (cancerous) or benign.
I underwent various surgeries, and they even completely removed the tumor. I returned home and everything seemed to be going well, but the biopsy took a long time to come back. A few weeks later, my headaches returned, so I got a CT scan.
When we received the CT scan results, we learned that in less than 20 days, the tumor in my brain had completely returned. The biopsy showed that the tumor was cancerous. My parents were very scared, but I remained calm. I believe that the Savior was already preparing and strengthening me.
After finding out the tumor was cancerous, my parents and I left our city and went to the specialized children’s cancer hospital in the state capital, Curitiba. The first part of my treatment took six months, between surgeries and chemotherapy.
I had another MRI in order to schedule the next surgery. The doctors expected that with the chemotherapy, the tumor should have shrunk to the size of a bean.
But the MRI showed that the tumor was totally gone! The Lord performed a miracle. The doctors hadn’t even considered this a possibility. I was so grateful for the miracles I experienced, but my journey continued to be hard.
At the beginning of this trial, I was sad because I was losing so many things. I had to stop going to school and church. I lost soccer, and I also lost contact with friends. I couldn’t attend seminary either.
I know that the Savior, through His Atonement, will make up for my losses. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I believe Jesus Christ will compensate for all these things I’ve lost.
I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I believe Jesus Christ will compensate for all these things I’ve lost.
No one understands me as well as He does. My mother understands me very well, but not 100 percent, like the Savior understands me. So even though I was sad about everything I lost and everything that happened, the Savior was with me the whole time.
One way to overcome difficulties is by serving the Lord. Service has connected me with the Lord and helped me listen to His voice and follow Him.
This past year, we had an FSY conference, and although I couldn’t attend in person, the couple directing the session invited me to make a video sharing my testimony.
In my video I shared about how no matter what is happening in my life, I have the desire to do my part and serve others. I received 571 letters from youth who saw my video and were encouraged.
Gustavo’s family is a source of strength to him. He looks up to his older brother and sister, who are both returned missionaries.
I’m still facing my health challenge, but this experience has brought me much closer to the Savior and has taught me many things.
I’ve learned to have patience and to wait upon the Lord when dealing with bad news, bad experiences, or bad illnesses. I’ve learned to find joy in the small and simple things. I’ve learned to see the world with different eyes, to study the scriptures, and to commune with the Holy Spirit.
Something that helps me spiritually is always being in the scriptures. Even when I was hospitalized, after surgery or during chemotherapy, I stayed in touch with the scriptures or general conference talks. If I couldn’t read, I asked my mom to read to me, or I’d play the audio for myself.
Now I’m in the phase of radiotherapy, and while waiting for treatments, I use the FamilySearch Get Involved app. During radiation therapy, I like to think about scriptures from seminary. When we choose to put the Lord first, even in difficult times, it makes all the difference. I feel that the Lord is with me because I’ve drawn near to Him.
Jesus Christ is my Savior and my Friend. I know He knows everything I feel, have felt, and will feel. Everything will be made right through the Savior.

One of the greatest lessons in devotion to the gospel came when George T. Benson received a mission call. “I was about thirteen years of age when father received a call to go on a mission. He went, leaving mother at home with seven children. The eighth was born four months after he arrived in the field, but never did we hear a murmur of complaint from Mother; she was so supportive of Father.

“The letters we received from Father were indeed a blessing. They seemed to us children to come halfway around the world, but they were only from across the country. There came into our home, as a result, a spirit of missionary work that has never left it.

“Father returned home and while we would sit each day milking the cows, he would sing over and over again, ‘Ye Elders of Israel,’ ‘Israel, Israel, God Is Calling,’ ‘Come All Ye Sons of God,’ ‘Ye Who Are Called to Labor,’ until I learned every word of several of these great missionary songs. Today I don’t need a songbook when we sing these great songs that Father sang to us morning and evening.”

This story happened in the Philippines.
Dave heard his mom knocking on his bedroom door. It was time to get up. He rolled out of bed and washed his face. Then he joined Mom, Dad, and his siblings in the front room.
“Good morning,” Mom said. Dave smiled sleepily. The family knelt, and Dad said a prayer to start their day.
“I want to share a great scripture this morning,” Mom said. She opened her Book of Mormon. “This is Moroni 7:45. ‘And charity suffereth long, and is kind.’”
Dave thought about the scripture as he got ready for school. Before he walked out the door, he said a prayer. “Please help me be kind today,” he prayed.
In class, Dave felt happy as he did his schoolwork. He listened carefully as Teacher Frida gave them some new spelling words to learn.
Soon it was lunchtime. Dave bought some caramelized sweet potatoes and some cold juice. He sat down with his friends and started talking.
Soon he heard some kids at the next table. Two boys were teasing a newer boy named Jose. Jose was small for his age, but he was nice to others and worked hard in class. The other boys had lunches, but Jose didn’t.
“Why are you so small? Don’t you have food at home?” asked Antonio.
Dave turned toward the boys just in time to see Joaquin take Jose’s bag and throw it to Antonio. Jose ran after Antonio to get his stuff back.
“Please give me my bag,” Jose said.
But Antonio and Joaquin didn’t listen. “Your bag is so old and ugly!” said Joaquin.
Dave heard all these mean words, but he was nervous to help Jose. What would the other kids think? Would Joaquin and Antonio make fun of him too?
Then he thought about the scripture Mom read that morning. Charity is kind. Jesus Christ would want him to be kind. It was the right thing to do.
Dave stood up and faced the other boys. “Stop teasing Jose. Please give him back his bag.”
“What’s your problem?” asked Joaquin.
“Why are you being so mean to Jose? He didn’t do anything wrong,” Dave said. Then he took a deep breath. “Jesus loves us all, and He wants us to be kind. Please stop teasing Jose. Bullying is wrong. If you keep doing it, I’ll get Teacher Frida.”
Antonio looked down at his shoes. He gave Jose back his bag. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He and Joaquin went back to their seats.
“Thanks,” Jose said.
Dave patted Jose’s shoulder. “We’re friends now.”
Jose smiled.
At home, Dave told his family what happened.
“That wasn’t easy, but you did the right thing,” Dad said.
“I’m proud of you for being kind,” Mom said.
The next day as Mom helped pack his lunch, Dave asked, “Can we please make two sandwiches?”
“Why? Are you that hungry?” Mom asked.
Dave laughed. “No, but yesterday I noticed Jose had no food. I want to share some of mine.”
“That’s a great idea!” Mom got out more bread and Dave made another sandwich.
At lunchtime, Dave and Jose sat and ate their sandwiches together. It had taken courage to stop the other kids from bullying Jose. But Dave loved his new friend, and he knew Heavenly Father was happy he had chosen to be kind.
Illustrations by Mark Robison

I was born in 1961 in Brazil and learned about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when I was six years old. My childhood was immensely happy, but my family’s life began to change at Christmastime in 1970, when I contracted a very rare disease.
At one point I was admitted to the hospital for a year, and the doctors didn’t know what to do. Several times the Lord saved my life after my father placed his hands on my head and pronounced a powerful priesthood blessing. I recall one occasion when a team of doctors was amazed upon seeing my fever of 106 degrees (41° C) instantly abate when my father took his worthy hands from my head. Such miracles went on for about four years while the disease was at its worst.
One day there was a conference in our city. My parents were excited and grateful when they learned we would have Elder Marvin J. Ashton (1915–94) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles among us.
On the day of the conference, the chapel was overflowing. My mother could not get close to Elder Ashton. When my six-year-old brother saw my mother’s despair, he managed to get through the human barrier and reach him. He asked Elder Ashton to bless his brother who was very sick and insisted that he come to where we were. But Elder Ashton couldn’t come at that moment. We prayed for an opportunity to meet him at the end of the conference.
To our surprise, at the beginning of his talk Elder Ashton said, “When I got here, a little boy asked me to bless his brother who is gravely ill, and I would like to say to all within the sound of my voice that your brother will get well and fulfill his mission here on earth.”
For my parents, this was the balm they had prayed for, a relief from their days of pain and sadness. We began a new treatment, and with confidence in the power of Elder Ashton’s promise, I found my life changed completely.
When I turned 19, I went into the mission field in partial fulfillment of the promise I had received and to satisfy my heart’s desire to serve the Lord by sharing His wonderful gospel. I served in the Brazil Recife Mission, where elect families were placed in my path and I was able to serve as an instrument in the hands of the Lord in bringing souls to repentance.
When I returned from my mission, I married a beautiful young woman I had grown up with in the Church. When our first child was born, however, the Lord took it unto Himself. I couldn’t believe this new tragedy in my life, but I knew my testimony and confidence in the Lord were still being molded.
Today my wife and I have a beautiful family of five children. Our oldest son is preparing to serve a mission. I have served as bishop of my ward. The symptoms of my previous illness have disappeared.
My life and my testimony are based on a belief in the power of the priesthood, the eternal nature of the family, and the teachings of the 23rd Psalm, in which David says:
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
“He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

Sonia Patrick describes herself as a mouse with a tail on fire running through a dry field. On the streets of Barbados—where the culture swings to a Caribbean beat—she makes sure everyone at the bus stop hears her testimony.
“God comes first,” she said. “I carry Him with me everywhere I go.”
Sister Patrick is among a growing number of members in the Christ Church Branch who have felt the fire of temple and family history work. They have learned firsthand what Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “Anywhere you are in the world, with prayer, faith, determination, diligence, and some sacrifice, you can make a powerful contribution.”
Sister Patrick joined the Church in 2008 after meeting the missionaries, who offered to wash her car for free. She is now known as the “bold one” in her branch on this sunny island in the West Indies.
“I grew up Christian,” she said. “I felt a spiritual pull to accept the missionaries’ offer to attend church.”
Tragedy struck three years after her baptism when her only son was killed. Suddenly, she said, “family history became very important to me.”
Opportunities for family history research and temple work were limited at the time on the island. Computers were scarce, and travel to the nearest temple was expensive and difficult.
Sister Patrick arranged for the proxy baptism of her son but remained patient over the next years. She stayed busy “doing what she was supposed to do” until a series of events came together to provide more help for her family history work.
Wheels were set in motion when Sister Jennilyn Stoffers arrived in 2022 to serve in the Barbados Bridgetown Mission office. Her call to Barbados came as a last-minute surprise. For months, she had made preparations with Church leaders to serve in Ireland, where the wet and cold of northern Europe were more conducive to her health. She had her bags packed for Ireland until she read her mission call, sending her the other direction—to the heat and humidity of Barbados.
Sister Stoffers replaced her warm wools with breezy cottons and soon arrived in Barbados. “There was a lot of adapting,” she said of the weather, the Bajan dialect, the culture, the food—just about everything.
“It was easy to fall in love with the members and their pure faith in God,” she said. “Everyone should experience a fast and testimony meeting in Barbados. Members know the scriptures. They are strong in their faith. They face persecution from family and society. Many are the only members of the Church in their families.”
Before long, the branch president asked Sister Stoffers to teach a class on temple preparation and family history work, a subject that fires her imagination and devotion.
A spark was struck among several members. They lingered after meetings, huddling around the branch computer, where Sister Stoffers helped them discover the richness of family history work.
Margaret Haynes was among the first to taste the spirit of the work.
“Imagine how my ancestors are reacting,” she said in reflection. “One day I will meet them. I have always felt a special feeling of being watched over by them. It brings me joy to unite my family. I feel their yearning to make covenants.”
Enthusiasm spread, and more members joined in the weekly gatherings.
“They get after it,” Sister Stoffers said. “If they need permission to perform an ordinance or need data like a birth date, they call a relative right then. There’s no waiting for a more convenient time.”
The laws and culture in the Caribbean make researching family records a challenge. “Yet,” said Sister Stoffers, “members of the branch deal with the frustrations and have now submitted more than 500 ordinances to the temple.” And more are coming.
As Church members unearthed their ancestral past, Sister Stoffers began wondering how they might experience the joy of serving in the temple on their ancestors’ behalf, given the expense of traveling to the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple.
Considering her resources, she remembered the youth and adults in her home ward near Ogden, Utah, USA. With their enthusiasm to serve, could they fill the gap and help their brothers and sisters in Barbados?
Sister Stoffers’s home-ward bishop liked the plan and rallied the support of youth and adults. Soon, names from Barbados were being shared instantly on FamilySearch.
Now, as often as their schedule permits, a battalion of youth converge on the Ogden Utah Temple, where Bishop Rob Smout pulls from a stack of ordinance-ready printouts to divvy among the youth. The talkative youth grow whisper quiet as they contemplate the unusually spelled names of people with whom they have no connection but feel a spiritual kinship.
Participation has been widespread across the ward. On certain Saturdays, a family of five boys arrives early at the temple to enjoy the sunrise over the Wasatch mountains before performing baptisms.
“It’s become a ward quest,” said Bishop Smout. “It has united the ward. Many have become involved and take names routinely, including those who haven’t attended the temple in years. Others have come back into activity to participate.”
Many members in Barbados, meanwhile, have had unique experiences that motivate them to gather their families.
“As we work together, we feel a family connection,” Sister Stoffers said. “We feel a saintly joy. It is hard to describe, except that it seems to resonate in others beyond.”
This enthusiasm to discover ancestors has now spread beyond the branch and across the Caribbean to members on neighboring islands. Proselyting missionaries assist by meeting with members in their homes. To guide those in the far reaches of the mission, Sister Stoffers conducts virtual training sessions.
This effort on a small island in the Caribbean began with love and a desire to bless ancestors. Then came the means to learn how. The branch discovered that the work is spiritual, requiring what Elder Scott called “a monumental effort of cooperation on both sides of the veil, where help is given in both directions.” They proved that even in remote Barbados, a small number of devoted members can make a great contribution.