Gospel Story Finder

Jung Sung Eun of Korea didn’t pass the qualification exam to become a teacher. Tina Roper of Utah, USA, lost a job that she had expected to turn into a career. Todd Schlensker of Ohio, USA, received a spiritual confirmation to marry but saw his engagement come to an end. Alessia Mazzolari (name has been changed) of Italy ended what appeared to be the perfect relationship.

Sung Eun had worked hard to achieve her lifelong dream of becoming a teacher. She explains, “Because I have always tried to do my best in all I do, I have almost always been able to obtain what I hoped and prayed for.” But that didn’t happen when she took the teacher qualification exam. “When I failed it,” she says, “I felt I had lost all my dreams in one day.”

Rather than focus completely on building their résumés, Sung Eun and Tina realized they could also focus on building their character. Both women found comfort through gospel study and prayer.

“The Apostle Paul was a wonderful friend who helped me be patient and continually confront challenges,” says Sung Eun. “He always had a positive attitude and willingly waited for what God had for him, rather than hoping for his own timing.

“I learned something from his example: the period of waiting is not merely the process that we must go through to get what we want. Rather, it is a process by which we become who our Heavenly Father wants us to be through changes we make.”

Both Tina and Sung Eun admit that while building character isn’t always pleasant, the fruits of personal growth are sweet. Sung Eun says, “The year after I failed the teacher qualification exam was not only the most painful and depressing time period, but it was also the most precious. I became more able to truly understand other people’s difficulties and had a desire to help them with real intent and care.”

After being confronted with unanticipated setbacks, all four of these young adults struggled to find the courage to live in the present and again plan for the future. But they found that their faith in the Lord grew.

Sung Eun remembers that after failing her examination, trying new things became difficult. But then came a crucial discovery: “I realized that the real failure is to dwell on the past and make little effort to try to work things out. I decided that rather than continuing to be sad, I should turn this difficult time into an opportunity to learn. My ability to understand life in general broadened and deepened, and I learned that the end of one thing always brings about the beginning of something else.” She has since retaken and passed the exam and is now “a happy teacher who enjoys spending time with students each day.”

Mom and Dad have called Hannah and her siblings for a family meeting.
Our Church leaders have asked us to prepare for emergencies. But we don’t have much extra money. We’ll have to make a sacrifice.
We’re giving up cereal for one month. We’ll use the money to buy supplies. OK?
What will we eat for breakfast?
Oatmeal! We have lots in our food storage.
Oatmeal? Blegh!
The next morning
Try mixing something in. I like raisins in mine.
*sigh* OK …
Day 1: Raisins
Gross!
Day 2: Banana
Yuck!
Day 3: Coconut
Ew!
Day 4: Berries
Nope!
Try this. It has apples, cinnamon, and brown sugar. It tastes like apple pie!
Mmm, that’s good! I’m having this tomorrow too.
I bought first aid supplies for our emergency kits yesterday. Thanks for being good sports. I know giving up your favorite cereal was a sacrifice.
I guess all this gloppy oatmeal was worth it.
Besides, it’s not so bad after all!

Late in the afternoon of the second day at sea, the dreaded alarm “Man overboard” sounded. It became more ominous when the words “This is no drill” were added. The ship’s lookout believed he heard a splash and a cry for help. One adult leader recalls, “I was sitting in the officers’ wardroom, convincing myself I was going to become gloriously sick. But when the alarm sounded, I was no longer aware of anything except the fact that I had two sons out on deck somewhere.”
Fortunately, after a person-by-person muster was verified three times during search-at-sea procedures, there was a collective sigh of relief aboard when the ship’s captain announced all hands were present. The worried adult laughingly remembers, “That’s when it dawned on me that I was no longer seasick. I told the pediatrician who was with us that I thought I had discovered a sure cure for mal de mer—adrenalin!”

I hadn’t driven down the Claytons’* long gravel driveway since I had graduated from high school almost 20 years before. Kerri Clayton and I had been best friends then. Now, knowing that we would both be in town to visit our families at Easter, we had arranged to get together at Kerri’s house.
As I walked to the door, I thought of the heavy burdens the Clayton family was bearing at this time. With three children, Kerri was going through a painful divorce. Her father had recently suffered a stroke, and her mother was struggling to care for her husband and meet the family’s financial obligations.
It’s too much pain for one family, I thought as I rang the doorbell.
Kerri opened the door and threw her arms around me. Though five years had passed since we’d seen each other, I immediately noticed the toll that my friend’s emotional traumas had taken on her. She was too thin, and I could sense desperation in her hug. In contrast with the smiling eyes of her girlhood portrait on the wall, my friend’s eyes were filled with pain.
Kerri’s mother came to greet me, and Kerri called her three beautiful children, two girls and a boy. I recognized their father’s features in each face and felt again the hurt and pain of the divorce. I wondered how the family would survive.
Kerri mentioned that her father was in an upstairs bedroom. I offered to go up to visit with him, but Kerri told me that he wanted to come down on his own. “It will take him some time, so let’s sit and visit,” she said.
We sat across from each other in the living room where we had often laughed together as schoolgirls. We did not laugh today. As Kerri told me about her struggles with finances and facing the future alone, I could only listen. She had so many questions, and I had no answers.
After a while, I heard a rustling on the stairs. I turned to watch Kerri’s father begin his shaky journey down. Grasping the handrail, he inched his feet forward on each stair. His wife stood beside him, but he refused her help. When he finally reached me, he grasped my hand and said, with effort, “So good to see you, Annette.”
After her parents went into the kitchen, Kerri asked, “Did you ever think life would be this hard? Did you ever think you’d be sitting here listening to my terrible divorce story and watching my dad suffer? Why do things like this happen?”
In the silence that followed, I could hear Kerri’s mother counting slowly in the kitchen as she exercised her husband’s arms and legs. Wondering what she felt as she cared for him, I began to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Kerri said. “Here you come home for Easter, and you get all this.”
“It’s okay,” I sniffled. “That’s what friends are for. I’m just trying to think of something to say that could give you some help, some hope.”
Just then, Kerri’s mother began to sing. Kerri and I stopped speaking and listened to her angelic voice coming from the kitchen. The hymn was perfect for that Easter weekend and perfect for that moment:
Christ the Lord is ris’n today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heav’ns, and earth reply, Alleluia!
(Hymns, 1985, number 200)
As she sang all the verses and her alleluias rang through the house, I thought about Christ’s suffering, his victory over death, and his resurrection. I felt light and hope replacing the day’s darkness and despair. I knew that this family was loved and watched over by the most tender of shepherds.
“You’re not alone,” I said gently to Kerri. “You are in Heavenly Father’s hands, and so is your father.”
“I know,” Kerri said. Our tears flowed freely as our hopes rose heavenward with the hymn.

Many years ago, President David O. McKay told of a beautiful experience he had while sailing on a boat toward Samoa. After falling asleep, he “beheld in vision something infinitely sublime. In the distance,” he said, “I beheld a beautiful white city. … Trees with luscious fruit … and flowers in perfect bloom abounded everywhere. … A great concourse of people [was] approaching the city. Each one wore a white flowing robe. … Instantly my attention … centered upon their leader, and though I could see only the profile of his features … , I recognized him at once as my Savior! The … radiance of his countenance [was] glorious. … [The] peace about him … was divine!”
President McKay continues, “The city … was his … the City Eternal; and the people following him were to abide there in peace and eternal happiness.”
President McKay wondered, “Who [are] they? [Who are these people?]”
He explains what happened next:
“As if the Savior read my thoughts, he answered by pointing to [words in] a semicircle that … appeared above [the people], … written in gold … :
“‘These Are They Who Have Overcome the World—
“Who Have Truly Been Born Again!’”1

Little did I know how much going to the temple was going to bless my family. After we had been going more often for over a year, I was sitting in a session when I noticed a quadriplegic man. I thought it was amazing that he was there. On the way out of the temple, I saw him sitting near the parking lot, so my husband and I thought we would say hi.
The man asked my husband, Chad, and I if we could help him make a phone call. We agreed to help, and the man told Chad where his phone was. Chad dialed the number for him and then handed him the phone. The man could not reach out for it, though he smiled kindly. Chad looked down at the man’s arms, which were strapped to his wheelchair, and quickly realized he needed to hold the phone up to his ear. The city bus service that was supposed to pick the man up was late. We stayed with him and talked until his bus came. We were amazed that, despite his challenges, he was at the temple. He had such a great attitude. He had a bright smile. Before he left, we exchanged contact information and learned that his name was Max Para.
If Brother Para could get himself to the temple, we could get ourselves to the temple—no excuses!

Almost 100 years ago, on Christmas Day, another special gift was given to an entire continent. Most were unaware of this gift. It was given quietly, with no fanfare, no posts on social media, and no press conferences. Yet, what happened on this Christmas Day would help millions of people receive Heavenly Father’s ultimate gift of His Son.
Ninety-six years ago, in December 1925, three Church leaders arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina. It took them 34 days to travel from Salt Lake City, Utah, to Buenos Aires, Argentina, by train and ship. At that time, there were only a few members in all of South America. But the Lord was preparing a way for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to have a bright future in South America.
Elder Melvin J. Ballard, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and two other Church leaders, Elders Rey L. Pratt and Rulon S. Wells, had been sent to Argentina on a special assignment. The prophet, President Heber J. Grant, sent them to dedicate the entire continent of South America for the preaching of the gospel.
On Christmas morning, Elder Ballard and his companions walked to a quiet willow grove in Buenos Aires. They sang hymns and read from the Book of Mormon. Then Elder Ballard offered a prayer. Under the direction of the President of the Church and through the apostolic authority he held, Elder Ballard said, “I turn the key, unlock, and open the door for the preaching of the gospel in all these South American nations.”1
Elder Ballard also asked for a blessing on the leaders of the nations in South America to be kind to the Church and allow the gospel to be preached in their countries so salvation may come to everyone.
After that Christmas morning, Elder Ballard and his companions spent the next eight months walking the streets of Buenos Aires and shared the message of the Restoration of the gospel. There were few teaching materials in Spanish at that time, but they tried their best and moved forward with faith. Their efforts resulted in only one conversion at that time.
Shortly before leaving Argentina, Elder Ballard said that the Church would grow gradually, “just as an oak grows slowly from an acorn.” But he promised that thousands would join the Church and that the day will come when the people in South America “will be a power in the Church.”2
It’s been almost 100 years since that day and Elder Ballard’s prayer has been answered—and will continue to be answered—in incredible ways.
Today the Church in South America has:
4,178,375 members
97 missions
21 temples (with 14 announced or under construction)
Elder Ballard promised that the day will come when the people in South America “will be a power in the Church.”
What a wonderful gift is the gospel of Jesus Christ! And like Elder Ballard and his companions, we have a responsibility and the opportunity to share this precious gift with others. This Christmas, remember this valuable gift, and try to share it. No matter where you are, there are plenty of opportunities to share the gospel with people around you. In doing so, you can do your part to help the gospel of Jesus Christ go to all the world.

Tanning and tooling raw cowhide into a handsome, functional, well-balanced saddle is an almost-lost art. Although the trade flourished in the last century, it is today a rare craft. Yet Rich Pearce was fascinated. He came by his interest quite naturally because of the historic western town he comes from—Show Low, Arizona. There wasn’t a saddlery in Show Low, however, so Rich took two summer vacations and spent them in Vernal, Utah, as an apprentice in a saddle company. Rich can now make a saddle any pioneer, sheriff, outlaw, or city dude would be comfortable in and proud to use.

Ellie is twelve. She was planning to go to the Family History Library with her Beehive class. She was a little apprehensive, not having been before. But her father told her not to worry. All she needed to do to get started was to use the computer.
But Ellie smiled. She was sure that her father was joking, and she replied, “Oh, I could never do that. I couldn’t even work the computer.”
The day arrived for her visit to the library. Ellie and her friend Cami decided to give the computer a try. They quickly learned that if they would read and follow the instructions on the screen, they would do just fine.
It was an excited Ellie who returned home that evening. “So you found some names you recognized?” her father asked. “Oh, yes! At first I looked for Grandpa’s name, and I found it. Then I looked for Uncle Steve, and he was there. And then I looked for me, and I was there. I found me! I was right there on the screen! And all of the other family names filled up the whole screen. When can we go again?” she said.

Heber learned early the importance of hard work. After his father’s death, he and his mother struggled financially and eventually had to move from their beautiful home to a small, humble cabin. Refusing financial assistance from the Church, Sister Grant worked as a seamstress to support herself and her child. Young Heber helped her—running errands and pumping the treadle of the sewing machine when she became tired.

When Sister Richards and I were first married, we were going to school and had very little income to meet our expenses. Paying our tithing was a great sacrifice. But Sister Richards never even considered using our tithing money for other things we greatly needed, like food or rent. She insisted that we pay our tithing first, and we always did. Sometimes we had only a penny left when all of our obligations were met, but we always seemed to have just enough to meet them. That was a blessing from exercising our faith to pay tithing.

While serving in the Europe Area, I was privileged to see these principles in action as a miracle unfolded in Sheffield, England. At the end of 2008, Bishop Mark Dundon of the Sheffield First Ward was pondering what he could do to help his ward grow. In leadership training, his stake president had asked the bishops, “What are you willing to sacrifice to be successful in missionary work?” From the teachings of his leaders, Bishop Dundon knew that a good ward mission leader is key, a functioning ward council is essential, and a willingness to listen to the promptings of the Spirit is crucial.
After much pondering and prayer, Bishop Dundon exercised his priesthood keys and followed the promptings of the Spirit to release his two counselors, Gregory Nettleship and Robert McEwen. Bishop Dundon then called Brother Nettleship to be the new ward mission leader and Brother McEwen to be the assistant ward mission leader. The members of the bishopric had been close, so this change was not easy for them. But Bishop Dundon knew that in this particular instance the decision was correct, and both counselors humbly accepted their new callings.
The bishop, with his new ward mission leaders and ward council, prayerfully made plans and set goals for growing the ward. As they implemented their plans, they began to see significant success. Convert baptisms increased substantially, and many people returned to activity in the Church. Little did the ward leadership know, however, that their faith and works were to be rewarded in ways they never thought possible.
In March 2011 a young missionary and his companion were contacting people in the streets of Sheffield. Elder Nicholas Pass saw a man and his wife walk by and had a strong feeling that he should talk to them. Elder Pass and his companion ran to catch up with the couple. Communication was difficult—the couple was from Slovakia and did not speak English—but an accompanying friend helped with interpretation. In the discussion on the street, the missionaries used pictures to introduce the First Vision and the message of the Restoration. The couple then accepted an appointment for the missionaries to begin teaching them.
Ludovit Kandrac, the father of the family, started to read the Book of Mormon. Soon he quit smoking. In the teaching process, the missionaries had to use multiple interpreters and even learn a little Slovak themselves. On May 14, 2011, Ludovit, one of his daughters, and two other relatives were baptized.
At his baptism, Brother Kandrac bore his testimony. Through an interpreter, he related his experience of meeting the missionaries. When he walked past Elder Pass and his companion in the Sheffield city center, he had a warm feeling in his chest. He disregarded the feeling and continued walking, but as he glanced at the missionaries again, he was moved by the love they exhibited as they spoke with people. Though he wanted to approach them, Brother Kandrac continued walking. He was startled a minute later when the missionaries approached him.
Along with another Slovak family who had joined the Church a year earlier, these baptisms marked the beginning of a modern conversion miracle among the Slovak population in Sheffield, England. These new members came to church every week, bringing other family members and friends. They opened their homes to the missionaries and invited others in their community to listen to the gospel.
Elder Pass and his new companion, Elder Joseph McKay, visited often with these families. They taught them, served them, ministered to them, and blessed them. It was a marvelous time of teaching, learning, and receiving gifts of the Spirit for investigators, converts, missionaries, stake and ward leaders, and members alike.
Throughout the summer and fall of 2011, more Slovaks joined the Church. The increasing numbers made it difficult for local members to continue to provide transportation to and from the meetinghouse. For several weeks the faithful Slovak Saints walked five miles (eight km) each way to attend Sunday services in a language they could not understand.
In September 2011 the Sheffield stake presidency was reorganized, with Bishop Dundon called as the new stake president. A month later a fireside was held for both English and Slovak Saints in which interpreters were present.
While sitting on the stand, President Dundon felt impressed that a Slovak group needed to be formed that would be attached to the Sheffield First Ward but would meet at a facility in the Slovak neighborhood. A suitable meeting place was soon found and rooms rented. On December 11, 2011, the first block of meetings was held in the new facility. Sheffield First Ward leaders optimistically hoped that 50 people would attend. Instead, 84 people—including 63 Slovaks—attended.
Following the reorganization of the Sheffield stake, Robert McEwen was called as bishop of the Sheffield First Ward. Brother Nettleship continued to serve as mission leader. Under both bishops, the ward mission leader and the ward council did a remarkable job of leading the ward to “be with and strengthen” the Slovak Saints (D&C 20:53).
The ward council addressed issues such as how to provide for the new members’ needs, how to help them fully participate in ward activities, how to nurture them in the gospel, and how to overcome language barriers. Council members fasted and prayed for divine help and then worked hard. They visited the new members and participated in teaching appointments with the full-time missionaries. They provided transportation. They ordered Church materials in Slovak. They took the newly baptized members to the temple to perform baptisms for the dead.
Ward leaders also organized a Christmas service project. Ward members donated funds and collected toys, clothes, and other gifts. Large Christmas gift bags that included food for a Christmas dinner were distributed on Christmas Eve to the Slovak Saints and other families within the ward boundaries.
Long-time members and new members understood little of each other’s spoken language, but they all felt the warmth of the language of genuine love. A remarkable feeling of joy, happiness, and excitement enveloped members and investigators.
Over the next year this little group developed into a solid Church unit, with whole families being baptized and uniting with the Church. Fathers were ordained to the Aaronic and Melchizedek Priesthoods, sons were ordained to the Aaronic Priesthood, a Primary with more than 20 children was established, and Young Men and Young Women programs were organized with more than 25 youth attending weekly. The Lord provided a full-time missionary from the Czech Republic who could speak the language and add support to the group. At the same time, these families sent referrals to their homeland.
Why did this happen? Because God has not ceased to be a God of miracles. Because faithful missionaries diligently sought those who were prepared to receive the gospel. Because the stake president and bishops acted in faith and followed the guidance of the Holy Ghost. Because a ward council took responsibility and worked in unity. Because members learned the language of love and acted upon invitations from their leaders, having faith and confidence that God meant what He said: “I am a God of miracles; and I will show unto the world that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever” (2 Nephi 27:23).
The success in Sheffield does not need to be a singular event. It reminds us of the promises given through the prophets and can ignite our faith and our desire to become instruments in the hands of God by inviting people around us to come unto Christ. If we do so, we will place ourselves in a position where the Lord can bless us with opportunities to teach, activate, and nurture others. And we will see evidences that He continues to be a God of miracles.

Sarah Farr Smith was washing the dishes after the family’s midday meal, when she heard a firm knock at the back door of her home in Salt Lake City. When she opened the door, she saw a poor but tidy-looking gentleman standing on her porch. Although she didn’t know the man, he was very polite, and she invited him in for something to eat.
While he was eating, the man suddenly asked where Sarah’s young son George Albert was. She said that he was outside playing in the yard. The man then asked Sarah to call him into the house. Although she didn’t understand why, something told her to do what the man had asked. She went outside and found her son playing beneath a balcony of a two-story building next door.
As Sarah came back into the house with the boy, she heard a loud crash. Rushing back outside, she was horrified to see that the balcony under which he had just been playing had collapsed, sending large beams and pieces of lumber crashing down onto the toys that had been left there just moments earlier.
Sarah was very grateful and humbled for what she felt was Heavenly Father’s help in saving her son’s life. She decided then that George Albert must have an important mission to perform on earth and that God would help her watch over him.

I was a well-known journalist who had written for some good magazines and newspapers in Lima, Peru, but my way of life—far from God—was tormenting me more each day. Because of this, I accepted a job as a proofreader for a magazine in the Ventanilla District, located far from my home. I was desperately seeking a way to get away from my current circle of friends. In Ventanilla, I felt in my heart that my life would change.
I was occasionally attending church with my girlfriend, María Cristina, when two good, stubborn missionaries convinced me to ask Heavenly Father in prayer if the Church was true. I did so, and what I experienced was indescribable. I had never felt the Spirit so strong as on that unforgettable day.
Married and baptized a short time later, María Cristina and I rented a small, uncomfortable room in Ventanilla. Because of my hard work, I was advanced from proofreader to editor at the company’s magazine and newspaper. I had never been an editor before, and I was happy with the position. Even so, things started to change when our publications began to lower their standards, publishing items of questionable morality. These changes, ordered by our directors, opposed Church principles and values.
I had always wanted to be an editor, but the situation made me uncomfortable. Our bishop suggested that if we did things that pleased our Heavenly Father, He would bless us. After my wife and I thought it over and prayed about it, we felt prompted that I should quit my job.
A few days later I was beginning to feel stressed out and wondered if I had done the right thing. After resigning, I had sent résumés to several companies but had heard nothing back. María Cristina suggested that we pray again, and we did so. We prayed that everything would turn out well and that we would not lose faith even though the bills were piling up.
A few hours later my wife encouraged me to call one of the companies. Somewhat unbelieving, I called. I was astounded when an official there said he was just about to call me. He wanted to know if I could start the next day!
We wept for joy. Our Heavenly Father had answered our prayers.
We had to leave our ward and many good friends for my new job, but we left with stronger testimonies. I now have respectable work and a good salary, and we have a nice place to live. Above all, we have been blessed with the certainty that when we do the things that please God, we receive His blessings.

Father dropped a stack of books on the table and announced, “Tonight for family home evening we are going to write our testimonies in a Book of Mormon. Practice first on a piece of paper. Then, using your best handwriting, put your testimony on the inside cover, and sign your name. We’ll glue a picture of you underneath it, and tomorrow I’ll give the books to the bishop to donate to the missionaries.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Mother. “Maybe what we write will inspire someone to join the Church. Let’s put our address under the pictures, too, and maybe someone will write back to us.”

David and Anna eagerly reached for a piece of paper.

“I’m going to explain about the priesthood and how I was ordained a deacon,” David said.

“I’m going to write about our family and how we can be together forever,” said Anna.

John just sat and stared at his paper.

Soon everyone except John was busily writing. Several minutes later Mother stopped and said, “What’s wrong, John?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

“Can’t you decide what to say?” Father asked.

John shook his head.

“Maybe you could write how the Church has a living prophet,” Mother suggested, “or how we read the Book of Mormon every day as a family and how that helps you to make right choices.”

“Yes, I guess I could,” John said. He stared at his paper some more. What could I say that would help anybody? he wondered. Who would ever believe what a seven-year-old had to say?

John thought about his next birthday. It was four months away, and he would be baptized then. An idea began to form in his mind, and he started to write. Several times he crushed up his paper and threw it away, but he kept working at the project.

Everyone else had finished writing when John finally started copying his testimony on the inside cover of his Book of Mormon. When he finished, he reread it one last time.

My name is John Richards. I am seven years old. Soon I will be eight. When I turn eight, I will be baptized by immersion as Jesus was. My father will baptize me and confirm me a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I believe that this is the true church of Christ. If you read this book and pray about it, Heavenly Father will tell you that the teachings in it are true. Then you can get baptized too. Please write and tell me how you feel when you read this book.
Sincerely,John Richards

Satisfied, John carefully glued his picture underneath it, wrote his address, and added his book to the stack.

“All finished?” Father asked.

“Yes,” answered John. “That sure was hard!”

“Sometimes trying to express your feelings is hard,” agreed Father. “But sharing your testimony will not only help someone else learn about the Church. It will also help your testimony grow stronger.”

“Is that why I feel good now?” John asked.

“I’m sure it is. And when someone gets your book and reads what you wrote, maybe he will get that good feeling too.”

Each day after school John eagerly raced to the mailbox, hoping to find an answer from the person who received his Book of Mormon.

But it was Anna who excitedly said one day, “An answer! An answer! I got an answer!” And three days later both Father and David got a letter.

“My letter came all the way from half way around the world,” David bragged.

Tears welled up in John’s eyes. He crept round to the back of the house and sat by his favorite tree.

Mother came out and sat down beside him. She sat in silence for a few minutes, then said, “You’re really disappointed, aren’t you? Do you want to talk about it?”

John hesitated, then wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. “What if the person who gets my book laughs at what I said? What if he thinks that I’m stupid? What if he thinks that a kid doesn’t know anything, and he decides not to read my book?”

Mother gently put her arms around John. “No one would laugh. He’d know that you’re very sincere and that you care about him. And children can often touch people’s hearts in a way that grown-ups can’t.”

“The why haven’t I gotten an answer?”

“I don’t know, but I’sure that there is a good reason. Maybe the missionaries just haven’t found the right family to give your Book of Mormon to yet. And whether we like it or not, just because we bear our testimonies doesn’t mean that the persons who receive them will accept them. No one has written to me yet, either, so let’s just hope that we’ll still get letters. Sometimes it just takes a while.”

That night when he went to bed, John prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, please help the missionaries to find the right person for my Book of Mormon. Bless him not to laugh at what I wrote. Bless him to read the Book of Mormon and get a testimony. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

Days became weeks. Finally it was John’s baptismal day. Just before lunch, Anna came running into the house, yelling, “John! John! Look what the mailman just brought.”

John took the envelope Anna was waving and quickly tore it open. It read,

That evening, on August 30, as John came out of the waters of baptism, he whispered, “Peace to you, Tuilolo. Peace to you.”

I saw his wagon coming across the flats, wheels churning up the dust, wagon top flapping in the wind. I slid off Red’s back and broke into a run for the cabin.
“Look, Ma!” I hollered. “The Bible man is coming!”
Ma came to the door. Shading her eyes against the sun with a flour-covered hand, she watched the dust cloud slowly moving our way. “If he stops here, help unhitch and feed his horses,” she said. “I’ll get the biscuits into the oven.”
I tied Red to the corral poles and sat on the fence to wait. I knew he’d stop. Anybody who knew about Ma’s biscuits wouldn’t pass on by. And the Bible peddler knew about them, sure enough. He’d stuffed down plenty of them every time he’d stopped by our cabin.
The peddler would likely be hauling the same wooden box filled with hymnbooks and Bibles. And he’d talk about how he was saving “lost sheep” by selling his books to folks.
He usually teased me about my red hair matching perfectly with my horse, Red. I didn’t much look forward to his teasing.
When the peddler drove into the yard, I hopped off the fence to help him unhitch.
“See you still got that red colt,” he said, first thing.
I nodded. “I ride him now.”
“Want to sell him?” he asked, all the while rubbing his thick mustache.
My head jerked up. “I won’t sell him for any price! He’s the best thing I ever had!”
He chuckled and slapped the flank of the nearest unhitched horse. I led his team to the corral and tossed them some loose hay. I gave Red some too. Then I sprinted for the cabin. Even though I dreaded the peddler’s teasing, I didn’t want to miss out on anything.
He was eating Ma’s biscuits like he’d never get another chance. Ma had set out fresh buttermilk for him too. I slid onto a stool, hoping she’d set some out for me. But she paid me no mind at all, and I saw why. She was holding one of his books and sliding her fingers over its pages edged with gold. “How much?” she asked.
I missed what he told her, his mouth being so full of biscuit. But Ma heard. She just sort of smiled, put the book down ever so gently on the table, and shook her head.
The Bible man glanced at me. “I’d take that red colt out yonder for it,” he told Ma. “This here is the finest Bible made. I’d throw in the latest hymnbook to boot.” He might have winked at Ma, but I didn’t see it.
I came off the stool, my eyes wide. “You can’t do that, Ma! Red’s my own!” I gave the peddler a dirty look. “Red’s worth more’n any old book; you know he is.”
The peddler gulped down the last of the buttermilk and rose from the table. “I’ll come by next year,” he said. He looked at me. “Maybe by then Ben can figure out a way for you to have that Bible, him being the man here now.”
I looked at Ma. What looked to be a tear slid down her cheek. I’d not seen Ma shed tears since Pa died, and it choked me. I knew she really wanted that Bible, and I wished that I could figure out a way. But I sure couldn’t part with Red to get it for her.
I was still choked some when I went to lead the peddler’s team outside and hitched them up again to the wagon. I held the team while the Bible man put an armload of books back into the wooden box at the end of the wagon bed and climbed up onto the wagon seat. I wasn’t sorry to see him go.
I watched him going toward the knoll that marked one edge of our homestead, his wagon wheels making dust again. He hadn’t teased me at all about my red hair, and I puzzled over it.
Right in the middle of my puzzling, Ma came running out of the cabin, hollering, “He forgot the Bible!” Her face was full of worry. “He’ll think I kept it on purpose!”
My mouth dropped open. Nobody could think that about Ma. “I’ll catch up to him,” I promised her.
I ran to untie Red, and sidled him over to the fence so that I could climb onto his back. Then I took off after the Bible man. Halfway to the knoll I slowed, thinking. What if I don’t catch up? Will he remember leaving the Bible behind? Ma would have plenty of pleasure from that book by the time he comes again.
I let Red plod slowly along in the dusty road, and the peddler’s wagon went out of sight behind the knoll. I reined Red in and sat awhile. Then I started feeling uncomfortable.
I had never done anything deceitful like I was doing now. It bothered me some that I had told Ma that I’d catch up to the peddler, and I wasn’t even trying. I kicked Red and sent him toward the knoll at a good lope.
At the top of the knoll I stopped and stared. The wagon was bouncing and rattling off through the sagebrush, the team looked to be on a dead run, and the peddler was pulling hard on the reins.
Runaway!
The clatter of the bouncing wagon was something fierce. It swerved through a boulder patch, hit a big rock, and bounced high in the air. The wooden box came flying out, sending books sailing. I closed my eyes for an instant and prayed that the Bible man wouldn’t go sailing off too. When I looked again, I saw that the wagon had slowed some and the peddler had the team circling.
I rode Red down through the brush to help look for the scattered books. Nobody will miss a gold-leaf Bible in all this mess, I decided. And with such excitement, even Ma wouldn’t hold me to remembering why I’d set out after the Bible man.
I slid off Red’s back, righted the wooden box, and gathered the books and loose pages the best that I could. It was a while before the peddler had the horses calmed enough to drive them to where I was. Then he just looked at the jumbled books and rubbed his mustache.
After a while he said, “An old sage hen and her young’uns flew up right under the horses’ noses. Scared them clean out of their wits for a spell.”
He picked up one of the books. “Not worth much now,” he said.
“There’s one book not hurt at all,” I heard myself say. “You left the gold-edged Bible back at the cabin. Ma sent me to tell you.”
I could have kicked myself for saying it. I looked away, chewing my lip, knowing that Ma’s only chance to read that Bible was gone.
“A good, biscuit-bakin’ woman like your Ma should have a Bible,” he said. “Now, I could be takin’ Red there as payment for it.”
My chin dropped, and my heart plumb sank inside me. I figured I’d best get Red out of the Bible man’s sight. When the peddler stooped to load the wooden box, I started scrambling onto Red’s back.
Then I heard him laugh.
“I meant her to have that Bible—to even up some for all those good biscuits that she’s fed me. You tell her so, Ben.”
He climbed up onto the wagon, grinning at me, and I knew then that he’d been teasing me all along. That was why he hadn’t mentioned my red hair. He had sparked more fire out of me over Red than he ever could have about my hair.
As the Bible man turned his team toward the road, I waved. “I’ll tell her!” I yelled.
And I was kind of sorry to see him go.

Brother Kelly reached into the box of questions our seminary class had written anonymously. “Can I know now who I’ll marry?” he read.
I tried to look bored as he answered my question.
“No,” he said. “At your age, you cannot know who you’ll marry.” Then he kindly explained that we might already be acquainted with our future spouse, but now wasn’t the time to find out. He encouraged us to develop friendships, not exclusive romantic relationships.
I’d read the same counsel in For the Strength of Youth: “Good friendships can and should be developed at every age. … When you begin dating, go in groups or on double dates. Avoid going on frequent dates with the same person” ([2001], 24–25). I wanted to obey. But I also wanted something more.
I wished I could feel the sense of belonging I thought having a boyfriend would provide, and I wanted my attraction to one of my guy friends to have a purpose. It was hard to care about him and have nowhere for those feelings to go.
I knew my secret question was a little unrealistic, but other serious questions remained: Would I ever find someone who loved me? What was the point of having these emotions now? And what was I supposed to do with them?
Besides being drawn to one of my guy friends, I also believed being his girlfriend would prove I was lovable. I should have taken to heart the evidence Heavenly Father had given me that He loved me and that I had nothing to fear.
My patriarchal blessing promised I would find someone to marry at “the appropriate time.” Later I found out that my dad had used the same words when I was a baby and he had asked Heavenly Father to bless me with a husband “at the appropriate time.”
Though Heavenly Father didn’t answer my prayers about whom I might marry, He assured me I would marry, and He even told me when: at the right time. I didn’t need a boyfriend to help me feel secure nearly as much as I needed to remember God’s promises and His love for me.
It was hard to always remember the eternal perspective because my worries threatened to crowd out other thoughts. Would the guy I liked ask me out? Should I ask him? Sometimes I wondered why Heavenly Father hadn’t created His children so that attraction wouldn’t be an issue until after high school!
Now I understand that my feelings had some divine purposes. Feeling attraction motivated me to form friendships. Whether I was socializing in groups or going on dates, getting to know guys taught me to communicate better and treat men respectfully. I learned what traits were uplifting and what kind of person I should marry someday.
Admiring guys also helped me remember to prepare for the temple. Even though high school isn’t the time to build serious romantic relationships, thinking about love at a young age is normal. Our spirits long to be with someone because marriage is a part of Heavenly Father’s plan. As I reflected on my feelings and imagined what an eternal relationship might be like, I was even more determined to qualify for temple blessings.
Strong feelings can be hard to cope with. All my instincts told me I’d be happier channeling my energy toward the guy I liked—thinking about him, talking to him, spending time with him. But whenever I made the effort to ponder the eternal picture, my stress melted away and I was happier. I knew I could find real peace by putting Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ first in my thoughts and actions. This meant studying the scriptures, attending church, finding ways to serve, working on Personal Progress, and following the instructions in my patriarchal blessing.
Nurturing my spirit made it easier to enjoy friendship and dating according to the standards outlined in For the Strength of Youth. Resisting the urge to pursue exclusive relationships wasn’t easy, but it blessed me. I gained spiritual strength by proving to myself I could make hard decisions, even when part of me felt like doing something else.
Although I was disappointed by Brother Kelly’s answer, he spoke the truth. Had I spent high school dating only one person, I would have missed out on meeting people who helped prepare me to recognize my husband when I met him years later. No wonder I couldn’t know the answer to my secret question. Some of my classmates married old friends, but I didn’t. At age 16, I was nine years away from meeting my future spouse!
What could dating only one person in high school have accomplished? Possibly fun times, but also distraction from pursuing other goals, a lack of peace for ignoring Church teachings, and heartbreak when the relationship ended.
In the years following high school, I dated a few men seriously until the Holy Ghost confirmed that “the appropriate time” and person had come into my life. I’m grateful I waited for the best time to pursue exclusive relationships and received all I’d hoped for: a sense of belonging in a marriage that could last for eternity, and a confirmation that Heavenly Father was happy with my decision.

The story is told of Ali Hafed, a wealthy ancient Persian who owned much land and many productive fields, orchards, and gardens and had money out at interest. He had a lovely family and at first was contented because he was wealthy, and wealthy because he was contented.
An old priest came to Ali Hafed and told him that if he had a diamond the size of his thumb, he could purchase a dozen farms like his. Ali Hafed said, “Will you tell me where I can find diamonds?”
The priest told him, “If you will find a river that runs through white sands, between high mountains, in those white sands you will always find diamonds.”
Said Ali Hafed, “I will go.”
So he sold his farm, collected his money that was at interest, and left his family in charge of a neighbor, and away he went in search of diamonds, traveling through many lands in Asia and Europe. After years of searching, his money was all spent, and he passed away in rags and wretchedness.
Meanwhile, the man who purchased Ali Hafed’s farm one day led his camel out into the garden to drink, and as the animal put his nose into the shallow waters, the farmer noticed a curious flash of light in the white sands of the stream. Reaching in, he pulled out a black stone containing a strange eye of light. Not long after, the same old priest came to visit Ali Hafed’s successor and found that in the black stone was a diamond. As they rushed out into the garden and stirred up the white sands with their fingers, they came up with many more beautiful, valuable gems. According to the story, this marked the discovery of the diamond mines of Golconda, the most valuable diamond mines in the history of the ancient world.
Had Ali Hafed remained at home and dug in his own cellar or anywhere in his own fields, rather than traveling in strange lands where he eventually faced starvation and ruin, he would have had “acres of diamonds” (story paraphrased from Russell H. Conwell, Acres of Diamonds [1960], 10–14).
We feel only pity for Ali Hafed as we picture him wandering homeless and friendless farther and farther away from the happiness he thought he would find in digging up diamonds in a far-off place. Yet how many times do we look for our happiness at a distance in space or time rather than right now, in our own homes, with our own families and friends?

How would you like to switch places with your mother for a day? That’s what the young women from Manurewa and Pukekohe in New Zealand did for a role-reversal debate.
In the role reversal, the mothers argued that girls 12 years and older should be able to do as they pleased. The young women argued that there should be reasonable limits.
There were also mother-daughter duets, followed by presentations on motherhood from both the young women and their mothers.
Heather Maloney, the mayor of Franklin, New Zealand, was one of the judges for the debate. She praised the mothers and daughters for their courage in public speaking and thanked the girls for their high standards and values and for the respect they showed in honoring their mothers.

One day a video came to the mission office entitled How Rare a Possession. You may have seen it. It’s about a man who found a copy of the Book of Mormon without a cover or introductory pages in a trash can in Italy. The man read the book, accepted it, lived its principles, and spent almost a lifetime trying to find out more about the Church. He eventually found the missionaries, was baptized, and came into full fellowship. The video projects him later in his life going to the temple in Switzerland. It is a true story.