Gospel Story Finder

When we got back to our apartment, we found a package of food that Mrs. Morales had made for us. A note on it thanked us for helping Mr. Morales get a new job.
We didn’t really do much, though. Do you remember my writing about Frank Cooper, the man who went to the Hill Cumorah Pageant with us? Well, we happened to tell him about the Morales family, and he took them some food. He was impressed by Mr. Morales and offered him a job. That’s the kind of great guy Mr. Cooper is. Elder Butler and I have had some meaningful discussions and spiritual experiences with him. I’ll cherish his friendship all my life.

“I always turn to my dad for good advice. He’s so easy to talk to.”
This remark seemed to be repeated again and again by one child after another during our discussion together.
A recently married daughter said, “I always vowed I wouldn’t marry anyone who wasn’t just like my dad. And I’m so lucky—I found a man just like him.”
“Dad has always been understanding. Once I was driving a borrowed car and became involved in a wreck. I was devastated and in tears when Dad arrived. He patiently helped me through that crisis, and I’ll never forget that experience.”
“When he tries to sing a song and doesn’t know the words, he makes up new ones. It’s really fun to sit next to him when he’s singing—it’s like listening to a foreign language.”
“Dad’s a tease and loves to tickle! When our family was in the mission field, Dad would tease the missionaries a lot.
“Speaking of the mission field, Dad used to tell the elders not to ‘tiptoe through the tulips,’ but to get the job done. At one zone conference during Christmastime, our whole family was on the program. Dad wore an orange hat and we sang and danced to ‘Tiptoe Through the Tulips.’”

A dear friend of mine sent me an old article from the Nebraska Advertiser, a Midwestern United States newspaper, dated July 9, 1857. It read: “This morning early a company of Mormons passed through on their journey to Salt Lake. Women (not very delicate to be sure) dragging hand carts like beasts, one [woman] tumbled down in this black mud which caused a slight halt in the procession, little children trudged along in their [strange] foreign dress looking as determined as their mothers.”

I’ve thought a lot about this mud-drenched woman. Why was she pulling alone? Was she a single mother? What gave her the inner strength, the grit, the perseverance to make such a wrenching journey through mud, pulling all her possessions in a handcart to an unknown desert home—at times being mocked by observers?

President Joseph F. Smith spoke of the inner strength of these pioneer women, saying: “Could you turn one of these women away from their convictions in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Could you darken their minds as to the mission of the Prophet Joseph Smith? Could you blind them with reference to the divine mission of Jesus Christ, the Son of God? No, never in the world could you do it. Why? Because they knew it. God revealed it to them, and they understood it, and no power on earth could turn them from what they knew to be that truth.”

In September of 2002, I had the privilege of eating lunch with the magnificent and happy Elder Perry - sat right next to him and chatted all through lunch. When I got home that night, I shared my experience with Sister Sessions.
She gasped because she really wanted to meet Elder Perry. He is one of her favorite apostles - she appreciates his persistent smile and positive attitude. With Elder Perry, you can tell that "when Jesus shows his smiling face, there is sunshine in the soul!"[6] Later that month after I met Elder Perry, Sister Sessions and I went to General Conference in Salt Lake. I had arranged to meet with Elder Condie of the seventy while we were in Salt Lake because Elder Condie was going to preside at our Stake Conference in a few weeks. He wanted to meet with me to discuss the needs of our stake and agendas for the various meetings we were going to have.
I knew Elder Condie's office was located in the same building where the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve were located. For a couple of weeks prior to our visit to Salt Lake I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to bless Sister Sessions that she might meet and shake the hand of one of the Apostles, maybe even Elder Perry, while I met with Elder Condie.
When we arrived at Elder Condie's office, we found it was right next to the office of one of the Apostles. I went in and met with Elder Condie and Sister Sessions sat in a chair outside the door of the Apostle's office - and that apostle was in his office. I knew my prayer would be answered and she would meet an Apostle. When I came out of Elder Condie's office, Sister Sessions and I started to head for the front door, and I asked if she had met the Apostle.
She said "No," he got a phone call right after we arrived and he closed the door to his office. He only reopened the door a couple minutes before I finished my meeting, but he never came out of his office so she never met him.
As we walked towards the front door, my heart sank that she had not met one of the Apostles. I wanted so much for her to have a sweet experience shaking the hand and saying hello to one of those great men. As I put my hand on the door to open it and leave the building, I still had a prayer in my heart that she would meet someone, and an office door to our right opened and several brethren stepped out. One of the brethren walked directly towards us and we paused for a moment realizing the person walking our direction was James E. Faust, counselor in the First Presidency.
We were the only people there and it suddenly seemed very quiet. President Faust shook Sister Sessions hand and spoke sweetly and gently to her. He then shook my hand, asked my name, and where we were from. But then he didn't let go of my hand. He moved closer and looked into my eyes. He didn't say a word, just held his eyes on mine. After what seemed like a long time, I said a very short prayer and asked "what is going on here?" The prayer in my heart opened the front door to heaven and the Spirit said very plainly, "you are having your PPI."
Well, you can imagine how I felt at that moment. Emotions welled up inside of me and tears filled my eyes. I was just about to melt when President Faust let go of my hand, patted me on the shoulder and said, "you'll be fine." Then, he walked away leaving me speechless.
It wasn't the kind of experience that was going to save our souls or change our testimonies, but we knew Heavenly Father knew us intimately and loved us perfectly. He wanted to come into our house in a very personal way.

Eliza learned as a child to respect the Bible. She attended a Baptist Sunday School, where she often memorized chapters from the New Testament. She remembered, “My heart yearned for the gifts and manifestations of which those ancient Apostles testified.” She desired to “see, and listen to a true Prophet of God, through whom He communicated His will to the children of men.” But her teachers taught her that those days and blessings had passed.2

Oliver and Rosetta Snow, Eliza’s parents, taught their children to listen to people with different religious beliefs and choose for themselves. Eliza soon realized that with so many diverse religious practices, she searched for something firmly founded in Bible teachings. In the fall of 1830, when Eliza was 26, the Snows heard about Joseph Smith, “a Prophet to whom the Lord was speaking from the heavens”—the very model that she had been looking for since her childhood. As much as she wanted the news to be legitimate, she wrote, “I considered it a hoax—too good to be true.” Eliza continued to study the ancient prophets in order to learn their patterns.3

In the winter of 1831–32, Joseph Smith came to the Snow home. As he sat by the fire, Eliza “scrutinized his face as closely as I could without attracting his attention, and decided that his was an honest face.” Even so, her investigative nature led her to observe what happened over time. She attended a local meeting where Joseph and two Book of Mormon witnesses spoke, and she was deeply impressed. Her mother and sister, Rosetta and Leonora, believed and were baptized that spring.4 Still Eliza waited, studying the Book of Mormon, watching and listening.

In the spring of 1835, Rosetta and Leonora went to Kirtland, Ohio, where other Latter-day Saints lived. They returned with stories about the Church, the priesthood, and great spiritual manifestations. Five years had passed since the time Eliza first heard about Joseph Smith. The accounts of her mother and sister brought Eliza an undeniable witness of the truth. She had waited until she knew it was true. “My heart was now fixed,” she wrote. She decided to be baptized.5

Even then, baptism was a challenge for Eliza, a humble woman who followed social rules and propriety. She prayed for someone to come baptize her, but no one came. When she heard of a meeting of the Saints about two miles from home, she asked her father’s permission to go and be baptized—as an adult, she respected her father, and he readily consented. At the meeting, there was no discussion about baptism, but Eliza gained courage to stand up and request the privilege. Before she could arise, a dark fear came over her. She pushed through the fear and was baptized in a nearby stream on April 5, 1835. “From that day to this I have not doubted the truth of the work,” she wrote.

That night, Eliza reflected on her baptism: “I felt an indescribable, tangible sensation, … commencing at my head and enveloping my person and passing off at my feet, producing inexpressible happiness.” She saw in a vision a candle with a long, bright flame, and a voice told her, “The lamp of intelligence shall be lighted over your path.” She was satisfied.6

Eliza moved to Kirtland to join the Saints for a time and taught school. When she returned to her family’s home at the end of the term, her old friends and neighbors asked about the “strange people” with whom she associated. “I was exceedingly happy in testifying of what I had both seen and heard,” she later wrote. Eliza determined to change her life and live permanently with the Latter-day Saints. Her conversion deepened even further in 1837 when she lived with Joseph Smith and his family. Again, she observed. “I had ample opportunity of judging his daily walk and conversation,” she recalled. She saw much more than the miraculous events of the Kirtland Temple dedication—she saw the life and relationships of a prophet of God. “The more I made his acquaintance, the more cause I found to appreciate him in his divine calling.”7

Thirty-seven years after her baptism, with a heart firmly fixed through persecutions in Missouri and the eventual assassination of Joseph Smith, Eliza remained a committed Latter-day Saint. On June 22, 1872, she shared about her conversion with a group of women in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA: “When I heard it announced that the Lord had spoken from heaven and a record had been brought forth I was deeply interested. I prayed unto the Lord to let me know if the work were true, covenanting with him if he did so that I would ever praise his name.” After her baptism, she said, she attended Church meetings. “We were called upon to speak; I dared not refuse for I had promised God I would ever praise his name in the congregation of the Saints.”8 Her continual conversion required her continued witness.

Eliza bore her testimony over a thousand times as she traveled throughout Utah Territory to teach the Relief Society, young women, and Primary children about the Restoration. Her heart was fixed, and she invited others to experience their own conversions and become firm and steadfast.

When I started our company 40 years ago, I had no money. I had worked diligently as a young man to help my family make it through life financially. Although a scholarship had been awarded to me to attend one of America’s most prestigious universities, I worked through college to pay for those extra costs that scholarships don’t cover. Then for several years after graduation I worked for a small company to gain experience and wisdom. I went to graduate school at night and received a master of business administration while having young children at home and serving in a bishopric. Thus, after much preparation, when I decided to form my own company and asked the banks for a loan but was rejected, I said to myself, “No is only the beginning of the conversation.” Filled with confidence, I returned many times to the banker and finally wore him down. He granted me a meager loan, and I began a small business. Step-by-step and acquisition-by-acquisition we grew and expanded. On many occasions, as we built the business, various bankers, attorneys, and accountants would tell me it was impossible to proceed, but I forged ahead because I genuinely believed in myself and was adamant that no one else was going to determine my own personal destiny.
I thought often of my great-great-grandfather, apostle Parley P. Pratt, and his tribulations as a missionary in England, as the first missionary in South America, and as one of the first missionaries in the Pacific Isles. He was turned down repeatedly. He was mocked. He was jailed with the Prophet Joseph Smith, but he was never discouraged. So how could one of his grandsons possibly give up a great opportunity to open doors for others without trying repeatedly to accomplish the objective? Throughout these early years of my business, the thought came to me repeatedly that difficulties in life are intended to make us better—not bitter! Roadblocks always seemed to surface, but slowly, over the years, with determination and prayer, a great business evolved.
Has it been a challenge? Of course it has. Almost every day is a struggle for many of us. But we must remain positive. Nothing comes easy. Next year our company celebrates 40 years as a reputable, global enterprise with a respected name. We have fought every day honorably and with fairness to forge ahead.

After living for twenty years in the same ward, I married and moved to a distant city, where my husband continued his schooling. The people were friendly, but I was shy by nature and struggled to feel comfortable. One Sunday morning as I stood up from the bench at the back of the chapel and turned to go to Sunday School, a member of the bishopric greeted me with a smile and a handshake. Brother Goates was one of many who had extended themselves in becoming acquainted with us. As he shook my hand, he said, “Virginia, get off the back row and quit thinking about yourself!” All at once I saw with a new perspective. He was right, but I didn’t quite know how to quit thinking about myself. However, as the weeks moved on, the acceptance of a calling automatically moved me off the back row, demanding that I think about someone besides myself. My comfort and confidence grew proportionately. Callings and assignments are easy ways to become involved in the lives of others. Paradoxically, as we concentrate on the needs of others, our own needs become less controlling.

President Kimball recites the following story about a goal he made when he was still a young boy: “When I heard a Church leader from Salt Lake City tell us at conference that we should read the scriptures, and I recognized that I had never read the Bible, that very night at the conclusion of that very sermon I walked to my home a block away and climbed up in my little attic room in the top of the house and lighted a little coal-oil lamp that was on the little table, and I read the first chapters of Genesis. A year later I closed the Bible, having read every chapter in that big and glorious book.
“I found that this Bible that I was reading had in it 66 books, and then I was nearly dissuaded when I found that it had in it 1,189 chapters, and then I also found that it had 1,519 pages. It was formidable, but I knew if others did it that I could do it.
“I found that there were certain parts that were hard for a 14-year-old boy to understand. There were some pages that were not especially interesting to me, but when I had read the 66 books and 1,189 chapters and 1,519 pages, I had a glowing satisfaction that I had made a goal and that I had achieved it.
And he continues: “I am not telling you this story to boast; I am merely using this as an example to say that if I could do it by coal-oil light, you can do it by electric light. I have always been glad I read the Bible from cover to cover.” (Ensign, May 1974, p. 88.)

When I reflect on the race of life, I remember another type of race, even from childhood days. When I was about ten, my boyfriends and I would take pocketknives in hand and, from the soft wood of a willow tree, fashion small toy boats. With a triangular-shaped cotton sail in place, each would launch his crude craft in the race down the relatively turbulent waters of the Provo River. We would run along the river’s bank and watch the tiny vessels sometimes bobbing violently in the swift current and at other times sailing serenely as the water deepened.
During such a race, we noted that one boat led all the rest toward the appointed finish line. Suddenly, the current carried it too close to a large whirlpool, and the boat heaved to its side and capsized. Around and around it was carried, unable to make its way back into the main current. At last it came to an uneasy rest at the end of the pool, amid the flotsam and jetsam that surrounded it.
The toy boats of childhood had no keel for stability, no rudder to provide direction, and no source of power. Inevitably their destination was downstream—the path of least resistance.

It’s easy to say, “The time isn’t right.” But there is danger in procrastination. Years ago I worked for a man in California. He hired me, he was kind to me, he seemed to regard me highly. I may have been the only Latter-day Saint he ever knew well. I don’t know all the reasons I found to wait for a better moment to talk with him about the gospel. I just remember my feeling of sorrow when I learned, after he had retired and I lived far away, that he and his wife had been killed in a late-night drive to their home in Carmel, California. He loved his wife. He loved his children. He had loved his parents. He loved his grandchildren, and he will love their children and will want to be with them forever.

Now, I don’t know how the crowds will be handled in the world to come. But I suppose that I will meet him, that he will look into my eyes, and that I will see in them the question, “Hal, you knew. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The afternoon my mother died, we went to the family home from the hospital. We sat quietly in the darkened living room for a while. Dad excused himself and went to his bedroom. He was gone for a few minutes. When he walked back into the living room, there was a smile on his face. He said that he’d been concerned for Mother. During the time he had gathered her things from her hospital room and thanked the staff for being so kind to her, he thought of her going into the spirit world just minutes after her death. He was afraid she would be lonely if there was no one to meet her.
He had gone to his bedroom to ask his Heavenly Father to have someone greet Mildred, his wife and my mother. He said that he had been told in answer to his prayer that his mother had met his sweetheart. I smiled at that too. Grandma Eyring was not very tall. I had a clear picture of her rushing through the crowd, her short legs moving rapidly on her mission to meet my mother.

Mondays are currently my favorite day of the week. Around 10 a.m. each Monday morning I get to read the weekly letter from our son serving his mission in Farmington, New Mexico. Later that afternoon I get to read another missionary letter from our son serving in Mesa, Arizona. I love reading their missionary experiences, reading how their testimony of the gospel is growing, and of course seeing their most recent pictures. Our sons express how they are loving their respective areas and more importantly that they are loving the people they have been called to serve. They often write how happy they are as a result of serving the Lord every hour of every day. The feelings I get when I read their letters contribute to my own abundant life experience. It is apparent that their experiences are bringing great blessings to them as well. The weekly letters we receive from our boys and their unique life-changing experiences are duplicated in the missionary e-mails we read from their teammates. Some mention providing many acts of service including giving priesthood blessings. They are all instruments in the Lord's hands, helping individuals come unto Christ, helping individuals become converted and being baptized. Many are involved in helping couples move closer to their goal of attending the temple and being sealed together as a couple and as families.

My wife and I often comment on the letters we read from our boys and their teammates and ask the question "Is this the same young man we knew a few months ago?" We know the answer to this question. The answer is: yes and No. The experience they had on the football team was one they will always remember and cherish but the experiences they are having on their missions have so much more significance experiences they will reflect upon for years to come. These young men are experiencing the blessings that come from achieving their goal of serving a mission and then faithfully serving. They are currently experiencing their own abundant lives and are helping many others do the same. They are experiencing the abundant life that comes from setting goals with eternal significance and focusing on things that matter most.

In summer 2017, the Page family participated in the British Pageant at the Preston, England Temple.
Preparations began early in January, with applications to be made, auditions to attend, and accommodations to organise. We were very excited to receive our phone call from Peter Trebilcock (the pageant director at the time). He told us that we had been accepted into the family cast. We were then set apart by our bishop, who said our children were the youngest he had ever set apart for a calling!
Our time at the British Pageant was very busy, with long days of rehearsing, many late nights, and makeshift meals. But it was wonderful— we made some new friends, grew through the expertise of all the directors and had many spiritual experiences and opportunities to give testimony.
One of the highlights was a visit from President M. Russell Ballard, an Apostle. My husband, Matthew, who was working on the security team, had the privilege of ferrying President Ballard around the site in a golf cart! We also had visits from President and Sister Kieron, and President and Sister McReynolds of the Manchester England Mission.
At the end of the performance each night, it was our privilege to speak with our visitors about their experience at the pageant. Many were not members of our Church, while others had not attended for a very long time. There were many positive stories of people feeling the Holy Ghost, as well as compliments as to the quality of the event.
The British Pageant is a truly worthwhile experience, and we wholeheartedly recommend getting involved!

After receiving an invitation to “come and see,” I attended The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for the first time at the age of 26. I had recently separated from my first husband. I had a three-year-old boy. And I felt powerless with fear. When I entered the building, I was filled with warmth as I perceived the faith and joy of the people surrounding me. It was truly “a refuge from the storm.” Three weeks later, I made the baptismal covenant with Heavenly Father and started my journey as a disciple of Christ, although my life has not been perfect along that journey.
For me to receive those eternal blessings, many physical and spiritual elements had to be in place. The gospel of Jesus Christ had been restored and preached; that meetinghouse had been built and maintained; there was an ecclesiastical structure, from the prophet to local leaders; and a branch filled by covenant members was ready to embrace me and my son as we were brought to the Savior, “nourished by the good word of God,” and given opportunities to serve.

I would like to close with one more little parable that demonstrates how accepting differences and living in harmony can bless our lives.
Once upon a time, and not so very long ago either, there grew a daisy in a hidden valley. This daisy wasn’t so very different from other flowers except for one thing. He was very lonely because there were no other flowers in the valley. Every night, he looked up at the moon and stars and wondered if maybe somewhere in the big world outside there wasn’t a pretty red rose that could keep him company.
One day, the daisy felt very strange, as if something wonderful was about to happen. As he was gazing up into the sky, he saw a small pure - white seed floating down toward him. The seed soon disappeared into the ground next to him. The daisy was quite confused and perplexed at this happening. However, the next day, something wonderful had happened. Where the seed had fallen, a beautiful red rose had grown. The daisy could see that this rose was a little different from the other roses he had heard about. First, this rose had no thorns. Also, it was just a bit more beautiful.
Now the daisy was very, very happy because the rose had come to keep him company. Soon their roots began to intertwine and after a while it was hard to tell that they were two different flowers. Sometimes, when the sun was too hot, the rose began to wither, but the daisy shaded her with his leaves. And when the rain beat down and the daisy began to lose his petals, the rose protected him with her red petals.
And so it was. All the weeds in the valley died in time . . . but the daisy and the rose lived on together in eternal happiness.

Thus the Lord, by revelation, brings inspiration into one’s mind as though a voice were speaking. As a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) gave this testimony: “I have a believing heart because of a simple testimony that came when I was a child, I think maybe I was around ten—maybe eleven—years of age. I was with my father out on a farm away from our home, trying to spend the day busying myself until father was ready to go home. Over the fence from our place were some tumbledown sheds which had attracted a curious boy, adventurous as I was. I started to climb through the fence and I heard a voice as clearly as you are hearing mine—’Don’t go over there!’ calling me by name. I turned to look at father to see if he were talking to me, but he was way up at the other end of the field. There was no person in sight. I realized then, as a child, that there were persons beyond my sight and I had heard a voice. And when I [hear] and read these stories of the Prophet Joseph Smith, I, too, know what it means to hear a voice because I’ve heard from an unseen speaker” (Divine Revelation, Brigham Young University Speeches of the Year [15 October 1952], 5).

I was the branch president of Koforidua when the government of Ghana banned the activities of the Church from June 1989 to November 1990. Upon hearing the announcement, I rushed to Accra to meet the mission president, who was our file leader, to find out what we must do.
On arriving at the mission home in Accra, I saw that the government security machinery had taken over the mission home and would not allow anyone to enter. I stood at the gate peeping and prayed in my heart to know how I could get in contact with the mission president. Fortunately, my eyes caught the sight of the mission president who was being escorted by security personnel from one room to another.
I shouted at the top of my voice to get the mission president’s attention, but unfortunately, he was not allowed to come any closer to me. He waved to me and said, “President Ahadjie, go back to Koforidua and take care of the Saints.”
On reaching Koforidua, I was arrested by the police, put in a police cell, and went through a series of interrogations. I was warned they never wanted to see us congregate to worship or share the gospel. However, this act of the police did not discourage me from heeding the Savior’s invitation to share His gospel.
To mobilize and strengthen the members of the Church at that difficult time in Koforidua, when the faith of most members was being tried, I had to organize the branch. This included the branch presidency, the executive secretary, quorum presidents and their wives to find a way to send the gospel of Jesus Christ to our members so they could hold on to their faith and testimonies.
Each Sunday, we would walk several hours early at dawn to converge in a forest where a member and his wife lived. We partook of the sacrament, studied the scriptures, especially from the Book of Mormon, after which, the men would pair up and visit all the members in their individual homes. In each home we provided the sacrament and read portions of the Book of Mormon to strengthen their faith and administer to the sick when necessary. Each Sunday started about 4 a.m. and ended at 11 p.m.
These activities went on for about 17 months and when the Church was able to go back to normal activities, none of the members were lost. Instead, we had increased by an additional 20 percent, nonmembers who saw and heard us ministering to the members, and attended sacrament meeting with us and were eventually baptized.

I returned home from my mission in Arizona, USA, just as the pandemic started spreading across the globe. During the last few weeks of my mission, I had been creating a vision for where I wanted my life to go once I returned home. I made specific plans and goals and was ready to get started! I planned to go to nursing school, to start new hobbies and find new friends, and to seize so many opportunities that come during young adulthood. I felt a sense of peace and assurance that God was guiding me and had great things in store for me after my mission.
That changed soon after I got home.
One by one, my plans were canceled because of COVID-19. I began to question and doubt the decisions and goals I had made. I chose to start looking for a job while waiting for online classes to start instead of moving to another state to begin school like I had originally planned. After a while, I felt I had lost my purpose and was wasting so much time. I was used to always having a jam-packed schedule as a missionary, and so I suddenly felt lonely, bored, and useless.
I wasn’t looking forward to the future. I didn’t want to face this life transition. I wanted to go back in time, to return to past friendships and places that had once made me happy. The vision and plans I had for my life just a few weeks before had disappeared, and I felt like I was paralyzed by darkness, fear, and discouragement. I didn’t feel like myself at all. I had just finished the most amazing experience of serving the Lord for 18 months, but now I felt lower than I ever had in my life.
I wondered why everything was going wrong and where the Lord’s promised blessings were. The reassurances I had felt in the final weeks of my mission seemed to have disappeared.
Then general conference came, and I realized how much I was lacking in one specific area of life—hope.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles gave a talk titled “A Perfect Brightness of Hope” (April 2020 general conference), and it especially stood out to me. I realized that because of my faith in Christ, I could and should hope for better things to come. Because Christ lives and is constantly working in my life, I realized my future will be just as miracle-filled and bountifully blessed as my past has been.
Because the Savior felt and overcame everything I will ever face, I could believe, despite every reason not to believe, that things were going to get better—even if my plans were sometimes skewed.

At age 72, Desideria found her health growing worse. By 1886 she was confined to her little home in San Lorenzo near Nopala. One dreadful evening, thieves broke into her house, beat her, and escaped with $3,000.5 Desideria survived. Instead of despairing, Desideria waited in faith for the Lord’s help. She had already learned from her dream that the Lord was aware of her situation.
Then in October 1886, an Apostle and two mission presidents unexpectedly visited the area. José Yáñez told them about his mother’s suffering. The brethren came swiftly to Desideria’s home. Desideria was delighted to meet Elder Erastus Snow of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and have him place his hands upon her head for a priesthood blessing.
During the brethren’s visit, the new mission president, Horace Cummings, surprised Desideria with important news. He told her that the first translation of the entire Book of Mormon in Spanish was near completion in Salt Lake City. Desideria quickly requested a copy of the forthcoming scripture.
A month later, President Cummings returned to Desideria’s home with a copy. Of the experience, he wrote: “Visited old Sister Yáñez, an invalid and gave her an unbound Book of Mormon which I had sent to Utah for. It was the first in Spanish that had been received in Mexico. … She seemed much pleased with it.”6 This would be the last visit of a missionary to Desideria during her lifetime.

In the year 2015, the institute teacher Brother Suresh Natrajan asked the class, “How many went to temple?” As I had visited the temple in 2014, I raised my hand proudly. Then immediately he asked another question, “Do you remember how many covenants you have made in the temple?”
The first time I visited the temple in 2014, I had focused only on some things. After all these years, I recognized that I have forgotten the covenants that I made in the temple. At that very moment, I took a decision to go to temple for the second time, and this time to pay attention to and remember the covenants and other things that are essential for my salvation.