Gospel Story Finder

Christianity celebrates the life and ministry of Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God the Eternal Father. Christian churches with great variations of doctrine dot the land the world over. When 14-year-old Cortnee, a daughter of a mission president, entered a new high school as a freshman, she was asked by classmates if she was a Christian. They scoffed at her response that she was a Mormon, a common reference to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Upon arriving home, she asked her mother, “Mom, are we Christians?”
Cortnee asked, “Mom, are we Christians?” As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, you are a Christian, and I am too. I am a devout Christian who is exceedingly fortunate to have greater knowledge of the true “doctrine of Christ” since my conversion to the restored Church. These truths define this Church as having the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Like other members of the Church, I now understand the true nature of the Godhead, I have access to additional scripture and revelation, and I can partake of the blessings of priesthood authority. Yes, Cortnee, we are Christians, and I testify of these truths in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Conscious of the debt they owed the workers, Church leaders announced that the first session of the dedication would be a charitable event. Those who attended were asked to contribute a dollar to help pay the impoverished laborers.

On the morning of May 1, fourteen-year-old Elvira Stevens left her camp west of the Mississippi and crossed the river to attend the dedication. An orphan whose parents had died soon after the family moved to Nauvoo, Elvira now lived with her married sister. Since no one else in her camp could join her for the dedication, she went alone.

Knowing that it might be years before another temple was built in the West, the apostles had administered the endowment to some young single people, including Elvira. Now, three months later, she climbed the steps to the temple doors once more, contributed her dollar, and found a seat in the assembly hall.28

The session opened with singing from a choir. Orson Hyde then offered the dedicatory prayer. “Grant that Thy Spirit shall dwell here,” he pleaded, “and may all feel a sacred influence on their hearts that His hand has helped this work.”29

Elvira felt heavenly power in the room. After the session, she returned to her camp, but she came back for the next session two days later, hoping to feel the same power again. Orson Hyde and Wilford Woodruff gave sermons on temple work, priesthood, and the resurrection. Before closing the meeting, Wilford praised the Saints for finishing the temple even though they would have to abandon it.

“Thousands of the Saints have received their endowment in it, and the light will not go out,” he said. “This is glory enough for building the temple.”

After the session, Elvira returned to her camp, crossing the river one last time.30 Saints in Nauvoo, meanwhile, spent the rest of the day and night packing up and removing chairs, tables, and other furnishings until the temple was empty and left in the hands of the Lord.31

How many of you returned missionaries noticed the visible decline in morals on TV, movies and videos when you returned home? When our son returned from his mission some 25 years ago he was appalled. He put a sign on our TV screen, "That which doth not edify is not of God!" It was his brief message to us. But let's read the rest of it.
...that which doth not edify is not of God, and is darkness. That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.[2] It is that Light we are commanded to seek and thus chase darkness from our minds and hearts.

Then tragedy struck. On the 31st of December 2019, fires engulfed two thirds of Kangaroo Island, taking lives, and destroying homes, including the McCanns’.
David and Evonne were devastated. In a matter of minutes, their sanctuary—a refuge for family and friends—burned to the ground.
It was now a twisted pile of rubble. Their water tank completely melted, and saddest of all, they lost their grandmother’s baby grand piano, which all the McCann children had learned to play on.
As the family came to grips with their loss, David prayed to Heavenly Father: “Where to from here? What is the purpose behind this? Whatever you want us to do we will do.”
Miraculously, their shearing shed was still standing! It housed their tractor, which David would need to clear the site. To their great relief, the neighbouring property—where David’s parents live—was somehow also spared, even though it had been surrounded by fire.
Another little miracle occurred two months earlier, when Evonne received a strong impression that they needed to insure their property. This troubled David, as none of the 15 providers he had contacted would insure them. He prayed, “Heavenly Father, if we are meant to insure the house, please help me find an insurer.” The very next company he called agreed to insure the property for a portion of its value.
After the fires, a great outpouring of love for residents of Kangaroo Island came in. People sent tools, clothing and bedding, and members of the McCann’s Gulfview Heights Ward helped the family replenish their one-year supply of food.
Kangaroo Island began a journey of recovery, which included a heartbreaking clean-up of debris and efforts to rescue wildlife. But then, the land burst into bloom.
A sea of yellow daisies blanketed the McCann property, along with red poppies and other flowers which they hadn’t seen there before. It seemed to signal a new beginning, and the McCanns decided that—although they still couldn’t afford to—they would rebuild.
The blessings continued. David learned of a man who was giving away the entire second floor of his house—the framework, windows, doors, and cables—to anyone who would remove it and build a new floor for him. With a happy band of helpful brethren, David went to work and, after a week, secured the building materials for his own home.
He sourced additional materials on auction for a fraction of their retail prices and there was plenty of sand and ironstone on the land to make concrete for his foundations.
A generous architect on Kangaroo Island gave his time freely to design new homes for the McCanns and others who had lost theirs in the fire. Then, with the expert help of a retired builder, Brother John Ween, plus three of his builder friends, the family began to rebuild.
They worked tirelessly through three weeks of their summer holiday, recruited extended family to help during Easter, and now their house is at lock up stage.
On reflection, Evonne says, “Everything happens for a reason. We don’t see it when we are going through the hard times.”
“Trust God even when you don’t see why,” David adds. “It’s helped me understand the grief in a different way, and to have empathy for others . . . how bad things happen, and if we are faithful, good will always come from it.”
It won’t be long before their family and friends will once again experience the tranquility of their home on Kangaroo Island.

I am reminded of a commercial I saw many years ago on YouTube. A young woman who looked to be in her late twenties visited her aging father in his apartment. As she entered the apartment, her father was busy cooking at the stove. The daughter greeted him with a kiss and then turned to assist by washing some dishes in the sink. Thus, her back was turned to her father. She began to speak, asking a question: “Dad, how do you like the new iPad I bought you for your birthday?”

She heard no response, so she asked again, in a little louder voice, “Dad, do you like the new iPad I gave you?” Again, no response.

With a little frustration, the daughter turned around to face her father and opened her mouth to ask the question a third time. But before she could speak, she watched with alarm as her father finished chopping carrots and celery, using the brand-new iPad as a cutting board, and then stepped over to a pot of boiling stew, where he used a knife to scrape the chopped vegetables from the iPad into the boiling water.

Obviously, her aging father did not know the value of the iPad or what it could do when used for its intended purposes by someone who understood the rules by which it operated. Without this understanding, her father could not appreciate the gift his daughter had given him and could not enjoy the full use of the gift.

When he entered the hospital emergency room he was just another vagrant. His thin, hunched, and sore-ridden body slowly limped forward. His blind eyes stared blankly into a private world of darkness. The offensive smell from his poorly-clothed body was enough to discourage anyone from getting close to him. But, as a doctor, it was my job; so I invited him to come with me.
As I examined him he told me over and over that he was sick and needed help. After describing all of his symptoms he mumbled in rejection, “I don’t have a family or a home where I can sleep or eat.” I felt compassion for him—there were so many just like him. But what could I do?
As I treated him we talked about God. He understood the importance of the teachings of Jesus Christ and the need for them in our lives. However, he expressed difficulty understanding people who say they believe in God but neglect to show concern and compassion for their neighbor. He had acquaintances who claimed belief in God, but when he asked for food they wouldn’t give him any.
The one person who actually offered help was a woman almost as poor as he. She worked hard to help support her family by collecting and selling old clothing and rags. She had invited him to stay with them in her small tin-walled house. It was tiny, there were flies and rodents—but he would be welcome there.
We walked and talked together for three hours. Though his eyes were blinded his heart was not. Most of our conversation was about God. He asked, “Doctor, do you believe in God?” Quickly, I replied, “Yes I do, and you are my brother.” My reply came without thinking. But, as I said it, the words swelled in my heart and I realized that it was true!
As we talked, my love for him grew. I was in awe as I began to understand what it meant to be a brother. I experienced gratitude for the lesson I was learning from one whom, I thought, had nothing to give. I gave him of my time, and a little food, but he gave me understanding.

It was the evening of a Friday, pay day, at the U.S. Eighth Army Headquarters in Seoul, Korea. I had been on duty during the day, so I had a free evening to read, write letters, and enjoy some time to myself.
Pay day was always welcome, except that the extra cash available to the soldiers was used unwisely by some of them at the club. About bedtime that particular evening, three soldiers, obviously under the influence of alcohol, noisily came into the barracks.
The peace and quiet of our bare army accommodations built by the Japanese occupational army before World War II was shattered when these soldiers entered the room. I turned my head away from the noisy intruders and continued reading, determined to ignore the change in mood.
Despite these efforts to remain peacefully alone and by myself, one tall, handsome young man seemed determined to bring me into the party. He staggered over to my bunk. “What are you reading?” he said. “The biography of John Stuart Mill,” I replied. Looking up, I instantly recognized Alma Anderson (fictitious name) of our small but close-knit Seoul Korea church group. I could tell that Alma also recognized me.
Deeply embarrassed and distressed, he turned around and started to leave, then fell on my bunk. “I recognize you from our group meeting a few months ago, Alma,” I said.
“Yes, I remember you,” he replied without too much enthusiasm. By now he was in deep distress. “Do you know the Doctrine and Covenants?” he asked suddenly. “Would you read me the Word of Wisdom?”
I took out the Doctrine and Covenants, opened to section 89, and slowly read aloud every word of the revelation known as the Word of Wisdom, including the phrase “strong drinks are not for the belly” (D&C 89:7).
“This isn’t the worst thing I have done,” he said. “You know, my mother thinks I am going on a mission. I can’t go now.”
At this point I interrupted: “Alma, you can still go on a mission. Would you like to know how to do it?”
“Do you really think I could go in spite of what I’ve done? I have done just about everything I shouldn’t do. I think it’s too late for a mission.”
I knew what he meant when he said he had done everything. I watched as many of my army colleagues failed to show up at camp during the night. Their interests were elsewhere. Alma’s pattern of behavior was all too much like his friends’, but on the whole, members of our church group basically were free of these nighttime excursions.
Alma was going home next week. But, nevertheless, knowing of the probable sins he had committed and also knowing the gospel plan of salvation, without which we are all lost, I stated confidently, “Yes, you can go, but it isn’t going to be easy.”
We opened to Doctrine and Covenants 58:42–43 [D&C 58:42–43] and read about repentance. We talked of the need to confess serious sins to his priesthood leader. I suggested he go immediately to his bishop in California when he arrived home. There he could continue the repentance process we had started that evening. I also urged that he commit right then and there to forsake the grave sins of sexual transgression and never again repeat them. I urged that he be patient because time would be required. I suggested that he read Alma 39 to understand how serious his sins were in the eyes of the Lord. Finally, I explained that as a part of his repentance he must plan to serve his fellowmen for the rest of his life. We talked of the Savior, his mercy, and his atonement. I helped Alma understand that, though his sins were serious, he was not lost. “We have all sinned and are lost without the great mission of the Savior,” were my words of comfort. “But we must repent of those sins to be cleansed by the blood of Christ.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday, Alma. Let’s spend the evening together. Then if you would like to go to church services with me on Sunday be here about 8 A.M.” He promised he would be there both days and he was. On Sunday he was very quiet but he stayed with me all day. We enjoyed a spiritual feast, and Alma began to show signs that hope was returning. As our beautiful day of rest from army life came to an end, he returned to his unit.
On Monday, he came to say good-bye. Then he proceeded to the Inchon Harbor and the waiting troop ship, which took him back across the Pacific Ocean to the United States and his proud family. I often wondered what happened to him once he got home. Then one day, this letter arrived:
“Dear John:
“Perhaps you will remember me. Although our associations were short, they will have and have had a lasting affect on my life. I have often wondered what made me talk to you that night, but I was very grateful that I did. Our conversation was a turning point in my life. From then on my life changed for the better.
“I learned the hard way which was the best way to live and am at present very happy with the Latter-day Saint life. Upon my return to California I had a talk with my bishop. Several months later I was interviewed for a mission by [Elder] Hugh B. Brown [of the Council of the Twelve] and he made it quite clear that he expected a lot of me to make up for my past mistakes. The interview ended with a positive decision on my part. I received my mission call Saturday and I enter the mission home soon. I’m not even going out of my home state, but I am very pleased with the call.
“I am very thankful to you for your encouragement and advice given that night. Although I didn’t feel very well I remember your words. Perhaps our meeting was meant to be. I think so. At any rate I send you deepest appreciation for your help and wish you the best of luck throughout your life.
“Please write and tell me how you are and what you are doing. I will be very happy to hear from you.
“With love,“A brother in the gospel.”
As I read these words, I realized that I had been in precisely the right place at the right time to help Alma begin the process of repentance. The Lord’s work is always accomplished through men and women—his sons and daughters. A moment of pure joy was my reward.
The next (and last) time I saw Alma was on a day in the Los Angeles Temple when I was waiting the start of an endowment session. Alma came into the waiting room, and we embraced as old army friends and, more importantly, as eternal friends. He briefly reported on a successful mission. It hadn’t been easy, but he felt a sense of pride and joy in having completed his full-time missionary service. Indeed, although he had thought it was too late for a mission, it was not too late.

When we were baptized into the church in 1971, there were no temples in the Philippines, the nearest temple was in Tokyo, Japan. Upon learning about the ordinances of the temple and the sealing power that binds families to the eternities, we were so eager for the temple in the Philippines. It was a long wait until 1984 when the Manila Temple was dedicated by President Gordon B. Hinckley.
We were one of the many Filipino saints who rushed to the Manila Temple to be sealed as a family. Our joy was full when we received the ordinances and were sealed as a family. From that time on we never neglected our covenants with God, we regularly went to the temple despite the distance from Pangasinan to Manila. Like most Filipinos, we faced economic difficulties but we saved money to be able to enter the temple regularly. It was a joy to renew our covenants with God and perform ordinances for our dead.

It was a wintry Sunday morning in northern New York. The temperature was several degrees below freezing. The walks were icy; roads were blocked with heavy snowdrifts. No one came to church that morning except the minister and an 89-year-old woman, who had hobbled ten blocks from where she lived.
Surprised at seeing her, the minister called her by name and asked: “How did you get here on such a stormy morning?”
“My heart gets here first,” was the cheerful reply, “and then it’s easy for the rest of me.” (Quote, January 26, 1973, p. 5.)

The Tabernacle, 1874
The First Presidency was informed that a Missouri militia leader from the days of Mormon persecutions there was coming to Utah. Immediately President Young’s counselor, Elder George A. Smith, paid tribute to the visiting general at a Sunday meeting in the Tabernacle.5 Then the First Presidency took General Alexander Doniphan on a special train trip to Provo, Utah for a tour and a sumptuous meal. Why was he given this honored treatment? Elder Smith gave the answer in his Tabernacle sermon:
“During a long career (by the Church) of persecution, people occasionally present themselves like stars of the first magnitude in defense of right, who are willing notwithstanding the unpopularity that may attach to it, to publicly protest against mob violence, murder, abuse, or the destruction of property and constitutional rights, even if the people who are being abused … have the nonpopular name of Mormons.”
In Missouri General Doniphan proved himself to be such a “star of the first magnitude.”6 He served as the Church’s attorney during much of the Missouri period. When elected to the state legislature, he helped develop two new northern counties as refuge places for the Saints. Then, as a militia leader, he refused to obey General Samuel D. Lucas’ infamous order to murder Joseph Smith, and warned General Lucas:
“It is cold blooded murder. I will not obey your order. My brigade shall march for Liberty tomorrow morning, at 8 o’clock; and if you execute these men, I will hold you responsible before an earthly tribunal, so help me God.”7

Last summer we took our family to the San Diego Zoo, the largest zoo in the world. Our twelve-year-old son, Craig, had never been there, and he was delighted with the variety of birds and reptiles and other animals. But the part of the zoo that especially interested Craig was the area where the lions and the tigers were kept.
It was a sunny day, and the big cats were all fast asleep. My son thought that they should be up growling and stalking around. All the people there seemed to think so too. They were clapping their hands, shouting, and whistling. But their noise didn’t wake up the animals at all. So my son nudged me in the ribs and said, “Dad, give them your whistle.” I have a very, very shrill whistle, and, to please my son, I whistled as loudly as I could. But the lions still didn’t move.
Then I said, “Craig, listen to this.” I imitated the quiet growl of a tiger. Grrrrr!
Those lions perked up their ears and started moving about. The yelling and whistling hadn’t even disturbed them, but the quiet growl of the tiger reached through all the noise of the crowd. I put my arm on Craig’s shoulder and said, “Now you can see why Heavenly Father speaks to us in a still, small voice in such a noisy world.” We’ve referred back to that experience at the zoo a number of times.

My grandparents run an orphanage in Guatemala. My family was going to visit them, so I put a service project together for my birthday. We fixed up dolls to give to the children. I also bought them cars, bubbles, and lollipops with my birthday money. When we handed out the toys, I felt peace and happiness. I knew God was proud of me. I can’t wait to serve others again!
Katie S., age 11, Connecticut, USA

Joseph was almost to the edge of the park when he noticed something in the grass. “Maybe a bag of trash got scattered by the wind,” he thought.
As he got closer, a glint of light caught his attention. This wasn’t trash. Joseph saw a checkbook, keys, and a calculator lying near a purse. What cool stuff to find! Finders keepers, right?
Joseph was about to put the stuff in his pockets when he thought, “This isn’t mine. If I lost something, I’d want it back. Whoever this belongs to probably wants it back too.”
So instead he gathered up the scattered things, stuffed them in the purse, and carried it all back to Mom.
“Oh, dear,” Mom said, “It looks like someone’s been robbed.”
Together she and Joseph looked through the things until they found a phone number. Mom called the number while Joseph watched. When she hung up Joseph asked, “Who was it? What did they say?”
“The lady who answered was very excited when I told her what you found,” Mom said. “Her purse was stolen yesterday at the mall. We’re going to go there now to take everything back to her.”
When they walked into the mall, a woman hurried up to them. “Thank you, thank you!” she said. “Young man, you’ve answered my prayers!”
Joseph smiled and handed her the purse. “I’m sorry you got robbed,” he said.
The lady handed Joseph a 20-dollar bill. “This is a reward for your honesty,” she said.
Joseph shook his head. “I don’t need to be paid to be honest. I’m honest because I try to follow Jesus.”
“Then use this money for Jesus,” the woman whispered. Joseph could see tears in her eyes.
As Joseph took the money he looked at Mom. “Do we have a pass-along card?” he asked.
“We sure do,” Mom said, and she pulled one out of her purse.
Joseph gave the card to the lady. “If you call the phone number on this card, you can get a movie about Jesus,” he said.
“Thank you,” the lady said as she shook Joseph’s hand. “I’m very glad to have met you.”
As Joseph got back in the car, Mom asked, “What will you do with the money?”
“The lady told me to use it for Jesus. I guess that means using it for His Church,” Joseph said. “I’ll give two dollars for tithing, some for the Perpetual Education Fund, some for the Humanitarian Aid Fund, and the rest for my mission fund.”
As he told mom his plans, Joseph had a warm feeling in his chest. It felt good to be honest and to use his reward money for a worthy cause.

Many experiences have reaffirmed for me that our Church is divinely led and that priesthood leaders are inspired as to whom to call. One of those experiences took place in 1997, when I was a newly called General Authority. One of my first assignments was to assist Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in reorganizing a stake. Although I looked forward to this opportunity, I was a bit apprehensive because of my lack of experience.

During the reorganization process, we interviewed many priesthood brethren in the stake. It became apparent that several of these brethren were fully capable of successfully accomplishing the responsibilities of a stake president. The question then became: Which of these men did the Lord desire to be called?

After considerable discussion and pondering, Elder Hales and I felt prompted to select a particular candidate. Elder Hales then asked me to offer a prayer. What happened next was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life. During the prayer, I asked for confirmation of the Spirit. As I uttered the name of this priesthood brother, the Holy Ghost bore such a powerful witness that he was the Lord’s choice that I could barely finish the prayer. Elder Hales and I both knew by revelation that this was the man the Lord had chosen. How blessed we are to be members of the Church, which is directed by divine inspiration!

After two years of custodial work, another ward was added to our building, making a total of four. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday we had Relief Society, with the officers arriving as early as 8:30 A.M. The Relief Society room, foyer, kitchen, south steps, nursery, and rest rooms had to be ready. While Relief Society was in session, we cleaned the rest of the classrooms, the chapel and the cultural hall.

Then at 3:00 the Primary officers began to arrive. The relief society room, nurseries, kitchen and rest rooms had to be checked and cleaned if needed. When Primary was over we picked up, swept, straightened chairs, and cleaned backboards to get ready for activity night. This went for about a year; then two wards moved out of the building. It seemed like we were on vacation!

When the announcement was made that all temples were closing indefinitely during the pandemic, I remember calling Keaton (my fiancé at the time) and discussing what our next steps should be. We were supposed to be married in the temple in a few weeks, and we weren’t sure if we should wait until the temples reopened to get married or if we should get married civilly and then get sealed later.
Personally, I was heartbroken because I had always imagined my wedding day in the temple and that chance was slipping away. I also had been planning to receive my endowment the same week as our wedding, so we would have to wait even longer when temples reopened for both an endowment and a sealing appointment.
Ultimately, after a lot of prayers and discussion, Keaton and I chose to be married civilly on our original temple date. But we were determined to be sealed once the temples reopened.
As we waited for the temples to reopen, we used our waiting time to learn even more about the covenants we would be making in the sealing ordinance (and in my endowment). Keaton and I talked to our bishop about taking a temple prep class, and he was inspired to ask Keaton to be my teacher. Week after week, Keaton and I would sit together and discuss the temple.
This was an incredibly special and empowering time in our relationship as we discussed the covenant promises we’d be making to one another when we were sealed.
Six months after our civil marriage, I received my endowment and Keaton and I were sealed. We were surrounded by family, but unlike the day we were married, we weren’t nervous or anxious—we were so excited! Our focus was solely on what eternal marriage is about—the covenants we were making. Of course, the celebrations and activities that usually take place on a wedding day are so exciting and enjoyable. But I’m grateful for the time we had to truly prepare to make covenants with each other and with God. No matter if you are married civilly or in the temple first, I know that genuinely preparing to make covenants with your spouse and making that ordinance the focus of your wedding day is one of the greatest joys you’ll ever experience.
The moment we knelt across the altar and were sealed, an overwhelming feeling of gratitude, love, and joy filled our hearts. We both immediately felt a profound difference in our relationship.
Although we had been happily married for the past six months, that night Keaton and I talked about a special sacredness we now felt in our marriage. A new sense of wholeness and peace has come into our relationship. The Spirit in our home that night was so strong it was almost tangible. We felt a whole new level of love for each other and for the Savior in our hearts. And we knew it was because we had bonded ourselves to each other and to our Heavenly Father through everlasting covenants.
Through our experiences, Keaton and I have witnessed the importance of building and strengthening our relationship individually and together with our Savior Jesus Christ and our loving Heavenly Father. Being sealed in the temple allows us to fully feel the power that making and keeping covenants brings into marriage—how they truly can transform our love for each other and invite the Savior’s healing, redeeming, and enabling love into our relationship.
Keaton and I have experienced “all the difference” in our lives that President Nelson described. Recently, we also welcomed our first child, a beautiful little girl, who has opened our hearts and minds to God’s love for us on a new level. Every time we look into her beautiful eyes, we are reminded of the profound blessings of the temple and eternal families. She is ours forever, and Keaton and I will be blessed to be together forever because we are sealed for time and all eternity.

Another time, we had a pop quiz in school. I hadn’t studied. Nobody had studied—the teacher had surprised us. Everybody started cheating on the quiz. I’m not going to lie—I really wanted to cheat. But something told me, “You have to sit down and do the best with what you know.” It was a soft voice. I was stressed, and the voice soothed my heart. So I didn’t look to the left, and I didn’t look to the right. I answered what I knew. In the end I was the only one who got a high score. I’m glad I listened to the Holy Ghost.

Years ago when Sister Nelson and I had several teenaged daughters, we took our family on a vacation far away from telephones and boyfriends. We went on a raft trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. As we started our journey, we had no idea how dangerous this trip could be.
The first day was beautiful. But on the second day, when we approached Horn Creek rapids and saw that precipitous drop ahead, I was terrified. Floating on a rubber raft, our precious family was about to plunge over a waterfall! Instinctively I put one arm around my wife and the other around our youngest daughter. To protect them, I tried to hold them close to me. But as we reached the precipice, the bended raft became a giant sling and shot me into the air. I landed into the roiling rapids of the river. I had a hard time coming up. Each time I tried to find air, I hit the underside of the raft. My family couldn’t see me, but I could hear them shouting, “Daddy! Where’s Daddy?”
I finally found the side of the raft and rose to the surface. The family pulled my nearly drowned body out of the water. We were thankful to be safely reunited.
The next several days were pleasant and delightful. Then came the last day, when we were to go over Lava Falls, known as the most dangerous drop of the journey. When I saw what was ahead, I immediately asked to beach the raft and hold an emergency family council meeting, knowing that if we were to survive this experience, we needed to plan carefully. I reasoned with our family: “No matter what happens, the rubber raft will remain on top of the water. If we cling with all our might to ropes secured to the raft, we can make it. Even if the raft should capsize, we will be all right if we hang tightly to the ropes.”
I turned to our little seven-year-old daughter and said, “All of the others will cling to a rope. But you will need to hold on to your daddy. Sit behind me. Put your arms around me and hold me tightly while I hold the rope.”
That we did. We crossed those steep, rough rapids—hanging on for dear life—and all of us made it safely.

During my investigation of the Church, my mom was against my joining. But Dad gave his consent to my baptism and sometimes sat with me during discussions. I’m very grateful to him for that. To all the Latter-day Saints out there whose parents are members, I want to say, “Count your many blessings.” When you don’t have a family to go to Church with on Sunday, or the privilege of experiencing the spiritual enlightenment that the family home evening program brings, or have the Melchizedek Priesthood in your home, you miss out on a lot of blessings. But one great blessing I do have is a father and mother and family who love me. Since I joined the Church we’ve drawn closer together than ever before.

Other preparatory episodes in his life show divine design. Not long after young Elder Faust’s arrival in Brazil, Elder Wm. Grant Bangerter, his second missionary companion, welcomed Elder Faust at a time when missionaries were having very little success. The senior companion watched young Elder Faust boldly approach one of his first houses. Elder Bangerter skeptically thought he wouldn’t be able to converse enough to do any good. Elder Bangerter even turned his back on Brother Faust to emphasize that the contact was Brother Faust’s, not his! But young Elder Faust’s conversation with the woman at the window led to the Dedo-Valeixo family’s joining the Church (see Ensign, October 1986, page 6).