Gospel Story Finder

Our story begins in 1987 when two elders, Paul Gooch and Garrett Black, were assigned to the Massachusetts Boston Mission. Since there had not been elders in Lowell for a number of years, they felt it was appropriate to seek special help from Heavenly Father on the missionary effort. At that time there were only two Cambodian families who were members of the Church in that area.

Elder Gooch’s journal entry of April 11, 1987, reads: “On this beautiful, clear, spring day, Elder Black and I went upon the top of Fort Hill overlooking the city. We asked that Lowell be blessed as a place of refuge for the Asian people where they could rest in peace and safety, where the Spirit could dwell amidst them in their homes.” Both elders felt inspired. The entry continues, “We asked that Lowell be blessed as a place where the Asians might come to know Jesus as their Savior.”
The elders’ first meeting with Chea was quite accidental. Looking for another family, they happened to knock on his door. Chea was the only family member who spoke English. In the course of their conversation, he told them that he loved Jesus, wanted to find a church, and made them promise to take him to church the next Sunday. Elder Gooch recalls, “I was very impressed with Chea. He was extremely mature and seemed like a 25-year-old in an 11-year-old body.” Chea’s parents told the elders that their son visited several Christian churches on his own, but “didn’t feel right in any of them.”
Chea’s maturity is no doubt a result of many of the things he has experienced in his young life. Like many Cambodians who have found refuge in the United States, Chea and his family are survivors. He was four and his sister Soph was ten when they escaped with their parents from Cambodia after suffering through long days of fear and hard work on a rice farm. The Touch family does not like to speak about the events in their past life. It is painful to recall the tortures and brutal slayings. Seven of their children died in Cambodia.
Chea and his remaining family were able to escape one night in 1979 after the Khmer Rouge was overthrown by the Vietnamese forces. They trekked through the mountains and made their way to the Kavidan refugee camp in Thailand.
They lived in the refugee camp until 1984, when relief organizations sponsored their relocation to the United States. They’ve been in Lowell, Massachusetts, since then. Chea now has two younger sisters: Lundi, who is six, and Dani, age four.
After hearing the discussions and attending sacrament meeting, Chea knew he had found what he was looking for. “The people are so nice. I feel I belong. As I learn the scriptures and read the Book of Mormon, I can feel Heavenly Father’s love for me.” Chea loves to sing and adds, “The music makes me very happy.” Although his parents have taken the missionary lessons, attend church often, and fully support Chea, they have not joined.
After his baptism, Chea and the elders became very good friends. “Almost every day Chea would hop over the back fence and climb the stairs to our apartment,” recalls Elder Gooch. “After fixing himself a piece of unbuttered toast, he would tell us about friends and relatives he wanted us to visit. Sometimes we had a hard time keeping up!”
With a twinkle in his eye, Chea recalls the first person he told the elders about. “Sothom Chea was in my class at school. At first I was afraid of him. I thought he didn’t like me. I asked him if he would like to meet my friends, Elder Black and Elder Gooch. When Sothom said yes I was surprised but very, very happy.” Chea accompanied the elders to all of Sothom’s discussions. He says, “I enjoyed translating the lessons. I learned so much. I could feel the Holy Spirit. Besides, it was fun.”
Old as well as young have benefited from Chea’s desire to share his newfound knowledge. His neighbor, Sophon Heng, a mother of four, and her elderly mother Hong Heng were baptized as a result of Chea’s efforts. Sophon recalls, “Chea was so kind to us. He asked us if we would like to meet two men who would teach us and make us happy. When we said yes, Chea and the elders came to our home each week and taught us the gospel.”
For Chea it is not a sacrifice but a real joy to share Heavenly Father’s message. “Each time I go with the elders I seem to learn something new. I enjoy learning about how to return to Heavenly Father—what I must do and what I must avoid.”
Irene Danjou, Chea’s former Primary president, beams as she remembers, “Each Sunday he would bring a different friend to church. He’d introduce them to me, spell their names, tell me their ages, and sit with them until they felt comfortable. Then he would go to his own class. He did this every week for a whole year!”
One example of Chea’s diligence and enthusiasm as a young missionary is recorded in Elder Gooch’s journal: “I was home for lunch, sitting on my hardwood rocking chair, trying to prepare a talk for zone conference. Somehow I just couldn’t get my thoughts gathered. The telephone rang. It was Chea. He told me that he wanted Elder Black and me to visit the Vongs, a Cambodian family that had been in Lowell for a year. They were praying and fasting to find a church they could attend.”
Saveth Vong and her three children, Chetena, Chendra, and Tola, had narrowly escaped execution. Her husband, a pilot in the Cambodian Army, had been captured. Saveth and her children managed to get out of prison three days before they were scheduled to be shot.
Chea smiles as he recalls his and the elder’s first visit to the Vong home. “Everyone seemed so eager to learn. There were many questions. The Spirit was very strong.” Although the Vongs used a Book of Mormon printed in Cambodian, they needed help with gospel principles. Chea played an important role, assisting the elders as he translated discussions and shared his own experiences in the Church. Elder Gooch’s journal entry continues, “Day after day, Chea sat quietly by Saveth helping her understand the things we taught. He never seemed to tire of the message of the gospel.”
Indeed, as Chea taught the gospel his testimony grew. He recalls, “I remember reading 3 Nephi 27:7: ‘Therefore, whatsoever ye shall do, ye shall do it in my name; therefore ye shall call the church in my name; and ye shall call upon the Father in my name that he will bless the church for my sake.’ [3 Ne. 27:7] I thought, how could it be that I’ve never seen this scripture before? It makes so much sense. Heavenly Father’s true church must be named after his Son!”
This scripture also confirmed for Chea what he knew in his heart was true—that if he prayed to Heavenly Father in the name of Jesus and asked for help to share the gospel message, Heavenly Father would bless his efforts.
When the Vongs made the decision to be baptized, Chea was delighted. Elder Gooch recalls that evening, “While we were driving home, Chea asked Elder Black and me to stop by a grove of trees in a nearby park so that we could thank Heavenly Father. We took turns giving thanks and expressing our joy. When we were finished, Chea climbed on my shoulders. After a few quiet moments Chea lovingly looked down, flashed his million dollar smile and said, “The Holy Ghost is with us, Gooch, isn’t it?”
“Yep, Chea, sure is.”
“I know—I felt it!”
The Vongs were baptized a week later.
Chea will be entering the sixth grade this fall. He loves to fish and play basketball and enjoys video games. Like other Cambodian youth in America, he plays an important role in helping his parents learn their new language and culture. The adults spend long hours working to make ends meet and don’t have much free time to learn English. The youth, on the other hand, pick up the language quickly and bring it home. Chea’s been particularly fortunate. Along with his regular public school classes, he’s in a special program at the Sylvan Learning Center in Chelmsford, Massachusetts. Director Joan O’Brien sees Chea as a unique child. “I think he’s a youngster who will be a real leader in the Cambodian culture. He’s like a pitcher that cannot be filled.”

We were coming down the hill feeling tired and frustrated. It was our 16th day in Sogod, Philippines. This town—a small paradise, really—faced a beautiful, tranquil bay, and Elder Archer, my American companion, and I were knocking on doors.
We had opened this area to missionary work, and we had spoken to a host of people as we climbed up and down the hills of the city. Yet nobody cared enough to listen to our message, and rejection filled our day with sorrow.
“Let’s stop and plan for a few minutes,” Elder Archer suggested, wiping his forehead. His neck and arms were sunburned, and my shoulders were aching from the weight of 30 copies of the Book of Mormon inside my backpack. We sat under a tree and looked at our weekly planner.
“Our next appointment is at 6:30 tonight. It’s only 3:30. What do you want to do?” Elder Archer asked.
“Let’s continue tracting. See that street going to the river? I think it’s a good area. And besides, it’s got plenty of shade with all the coconut trees,” I said.
As we made our way down the hill, I prayed in my heart that we would not be rejected again. As we reached an unfamiliar junction, we met an old couple carrying bamboo poles, bundles of wood, shingles, and other tools.
They seemed a little embarrassed when we offered to help carry their load. After some coaxing, they finally gave in to our insistence and off we went, not sure how far we had to go. We must have been quite a sight because as we entered the neighborhood, many people gathered on the street to see two strangers in white shirts and ties carrying this old couple’s bundles.
We were so surprised to find out the materials we were carrying were to be used to build a temporary home to replace the one toppled by a typhoon. We spent a few more hours talking with them, while a curious crowd gathered around us trying to find out who we were.
There were smiles and feelings of gratitude on the faces of this couple as we left, and we were so happy about what had happened. Carrying some bundles for this couple was all it took. But this experience taught me a valuable lesson.
That simple task seemed to open the doors to missionary work there. People didn’t forget what we had done, and they became more interested in hearing the gospel. Elder Archer and I witnessed how this experience, a simple act of service, blessed Sogod. I labored there for almost four months and witnessed wonderful growth of the Church.
I now understand the joy the Lord tells us comes in giving true service to others. There is a lasting joy in giving, in helping, and in bringing souls to the truth. We learned this for ourselves that day in Sogod.

Photograph courtesy of the author
I often saw the same face staring from an apartment window. I thought to myself, “Isn’t it sad that someone would constantly look out their window, judging their neighbors’ activities?”
Then one day I thought perhaps I should go ask to see if I could be of some help. I decided to take some fresh-baked bread with me.
The warm bread melted the ice in my elderly neighbor’s heart. Tearfully she told me how lonely she felt. No one visited her and no one called her, not even her own children. With a trembling hand, she wiped tears from her cheeks.
She sighed and then said, “How nice it would be to just leave this world. I don’t judge anyone as I look out my window. I just watch the children playing and other things going on in the yard.”
Illustration by Alex Nabaum
Over time, we talked about the gospel. At first she was reticent because her husband served as an official in another church. But the more we talked, the more impressed she became with the truths I shared about Jesus Christ and His restored gospel.
“It’s wonderful that we have the same Jesus!” she said. “Will we see each other in heaven?”
“Yes,” I responded, “we will be there together—hand in hand.”
From then on, we were good friends for many years, until she finally passed from this world.
Now I like to think that my former neighbor looks from the window of her heavenly home, following our activities and hoping we have sufficient harmony and love toward one another.

When I was a teen, it was sometimes hard to live the gospel. The area I lived in didn’t have many Church members, and my friends who were not members of the Church sometimes made it harder for me to stay on the right track.
“You should wear this; it would bring out the color in your eyes,” one of my friends said to me before a dance. She held up a dress she was going to let me borrow, but it didn’t have sleeves. I decided to wear the dress with a jacket.
When I got to the dance, nobody else was wearing a dress with sleeves, and I felt like I stood out. When I started getting too warm, my friends told me I should just take off the jacket and that I would look better anyway.
Just as I was about to justify taking off the jacket, I remembered my patriarchal blessing. My blessing told me I would have many temptations and if I fell, many individuals would follow me. That was when I realized I needed to stay on the right track—not only for myself but for others who looked up to me. I decided to keep the jacket on.
Sometimes I was made fun of for not doing the things everybody else was doing, but I stayed strong and was blessed because of it. I later learned that many people had looked up to me. Some of my friends even told me they respected me for following my standards. They apologized for giving me such a hard time for not doing the things everybody else was doing in high school.
Because I followed the standards of the Church and tried to be an example, I was able to have missionary experiences and teach the gospel to others. I would not have been able to influence others if I hadn’t stayed on the right track.

One possibility for promoting modesty among young women is a panel discussion with the young men. This approach drew together the young people of our ward in serious consideration of this gospel principle.
Some of the priests we invited to participate were less than enthusiastic at first because they did not want to offend the young women who would be their audience. To help set the young men at ease, we met beforehand to talk about what they could say about modesty and how to present their ideas properly.
We felt the Spirit during the panel discussion. The young women joined in the discussion and listened closely to what the young men had to say. One of the panel members told them, “Could we start by not seeing any immodesty at Church meetings?” The young women responded very positively to the advice from their friends.
John Wilkinson, Utah, USA

In middle school, my friends told me many times that I was weird for not saying bad words. They made fun of me for it. I was starting to think that maybe they were right and that I was supposed to use those words because everyone else used them.
I wanted to be different from my friends, but I was scared that I would be alone. On Sunday, one of the speakers in sacrament meeting spoke about choosing the right no matter what. A phrase of his talk caught my attention: “Sometimes we may feel alone when we do the right things. But you’re never alone, because God is always with you.” That answered my question, and I decided that I wasn’t going to use bad language.
The next day one of my friends was using bad language. I told him that he could talk that way if he wanted to, but not in front of me. After that, he stopped using bad words when I was around. Some other kids told me that what I did was brave, and I realized that I wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable with his language. What the speaker said was true—I wasn’t alone!
I’ve decided that if I don’t like the language someone is using, I will say something. I know that it can be hard to do what is right, but the blessings we receive from making good choices are powerful.
Tony F., Chihuahua, Mexico

Photo illustrations by Getty Images
The landscape was dry, barren, and ugly. Beauty, admittedly, is in the eye of the beholder. That holds true for scenery as well as works of art. Yet the expanse of desert in front of me did so little to inspire my imagination that I felt sure plenty of other people might share my sentiment. The only thing growing out there was sage brush and weeds, and even those were spread thin.
I’d spent six hours in a car to reach this?
With my backpacking pack loaded with three days of food, water, and supplies, I trudged across the hot sand and hoped things would get better. Soon the dry sand deepened, which made every step feel like two or three. Things went on like that for several miles: hot, dry, dusty, and nothing at all like I’d hoped this adventure would be.
And then Coyote Gulch, one of the great slot canyons of the western United States, swallowed me whole.
It’s hard to describe the drastic change in scenery that engulfs you as you drop into this desert canyon. Hot, dry sand gives way to cool, packed earth. Sage brush is replaced with an oasis of towering trees, ferns, and other vibrant plants.
Barren flatland becomes a deep, shadowed canyon with towering walls on either side. A cool and refreshing stream courses through the bottom, whereas you can’t see water anywhere from above.
I was blown away at every step. I took pictures by the hundred. Yet for those first few dusty miles, literally none of this staggering beauty was visible, even if you looked for it.
Life is often like that.
The respective worlds of junior high and high school can loom larger than life while traveling through them. If your group of friends turns on you suddenly, for example, it can honestly feel like you’ll be friendless and lonely forever.
Getting a C+ on your report card when you’ve worked hard all year can seem like something that will derail your academic train forever. Not making the team, not getting a part in the school play, or not being invited to prom can feel in all honesty like life-altering events that forever taint your future.
The adversary tries to make us think that way, at least. But it’s simply not true. Life continues on. Life can improve beyond whatever challenges you’re grappling with at the moment.
Most likely you have no idea what wonders lie ahead, nor how Heavenly Father might be using your experiences now to prepare you for them (see D&C 58:3–4).
President Dieter F. Uchtdorf shared a story in general conference about a challenge from his own life that became a massive blessing for him. During the challenge, however, it was hard for President Uchtdorf to see much value in the struggle. He was 11 years old at the time and had to pedal a heavy bicycle and cart to deliver laundry for his family’s laundry business.
“Most of the time, I was not overly excited about the bike, the cart, or my job,” he said. “Sometimes the cart seemed so heavy and the work so tiring that I thought my lungs would burst, and I often had to stop to catch my breath.”
There was a reason the work was so hard for him. He was battling a lung disease he didn’t even know he had. But here’s the miracle: all that strenuous exercise proved to be exactly what he needed to heal his lungs. Not until many years later, when he took a physical exam to enter the military, did President Uchtdorf learn there had ever been anything wrong.
“It became clear to me that my regular exercise in fresh air as a laundry boy had been a key factor in my healing from this illness,” he said. “Without the extra effort of pedaling that heavy bicycle day in and day out, pulling the laundry cart up and down the streets of our town, I might never have become a jet fighter pilot and later a 747 airline captain.”1
Life takes time to unfold. We can’t hit the gym one time only and expect to get in shape. We don’t plant an apple seed a few months before we want to pluck fruit for an apple pie. Some of the most stunning vistas in your own life may not even be visible on the horizon yet. But they’re coming! Keep your eyes set for them even if they’re some distance away.
Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “Think of the long view of life, not just what’s going to happen today or tomorrow. Don’t give up what you most want in life for something you think you want now.”2
Part of thinking of the long view of life includes recognizing that there’s life beyond high school! That sounds obvious enough. But sometimes, in practice, it’s not easy to convince your own brain to recognize that truth. If your life falls to pieces here and now, the adversary always heaps on discouragement. And one of the most tried and true forms of discouragement seems to be this: the idea that things are never going to be any different. But, of course, they will. You will change and grow too. With God’s help, you can learn to see that brighter future even when things are dark in your life.
President Uchtdorf has taught: “If you trust the Lord and obey Him, His hand shall be over you, He will help you achieve the great potential He sees in you, and He will help you to see the end from the beginning.”3
I’ve been able to look back over my own life and see many parallels to my hike into Coyote Gulch. For instance, I was a lousy student in high school. But with a mission and a few more years’ experience behind me, I sailed through college.
Various challenges that felt permanent then proved to be fleeting at best. And don’t even get me started on all the high school drama at every turn (which seemed like such a big deal at the time) that I haven’t thought about since graduation.
So don’t worry if life feels rough-and-tumble right now. Hang in there. As Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Stay the course and see the beauty of life unfold for you.”4
And what a beautiful life it will be.

The last experience I’d like to share came when I passed the bar exam. A salty old trial lawyer approached me and said, “Bob, you can’t be a successful, effective trial lawyer and an active member of the LDS Church at the same time.” I considered others who were successful in their law practices and active in the Church, and I determined to be active in the Church. My decision didn’t affect my success as a trial lawyer. In fact, it enhanced it because I had balance in my life. I was trying to do what the Lord had asked me to do, and He gave me additional strength, understanding, and help.

During World War II there were terrible examples of man’s inhumanity to man. After the war was over and the concentration camps were opened, there was much hatred among the weak and emaciated survivors. In one camp, observers noticed a native of Poland who seemed so robust and peaceful they thought he must have only recently been imprisoned. They were surprised to learn that he had been there over six years! Then, they reasoned, he must not have suffered the terrible atrocities to his family members that most of the prisoners had. But in questioning him, they learned how soldiers had come to his city, lined up against a wall his wife, two daughters, and three small sons, then opened fire with a machine gun. Though he begged to die with them, he had been kept alive because of his knowledge and ability in language translation.
This Polish father said: “I had to decide right then … whether to let myself hate the soldiers who had done this. It was an easy decision, really. I was a lawyer. In my practice I had seen … what hate could do to people’s minds and bodies. Hate had just killed the six people who mattered most to me in the world. I decided then that I would spend the rest of my life—whether it was a few days or many years—loving every person I came in contact with.” (George G. Ritchie with Elizabeth Sherrill, Return from Tomorrow, Waco, Texas: Chosen Books, 1978, p. 116.)

I well recall a young man of great faith and devotion. He was my friend and my mentor during a sensitive period of my life. The manner of his living and the enthusiasm of his service were evidence of his love for the Lord and for the work of the Church. But he was slowly led away by the flattery of associates who saw in him the means of their own advancement in the affairs in which they were engaged together. Rather than lead them in the direction of his faith and behavior, he slowly succumbed to their enticings in the opposite direction.

He never spoke in defiance of the faith he had once lived by. That was not necessary. His altered manner was testimony enough of his having forsaken it. The years passed, and then I met him again. He spoke as one disillusioned. With lowered voice and lowered eyes, he told of his drifting when he cut himself loose from the anchor of his once-treasured faith. Then, concluding his narrative, like Peter, he wept.

Even an unbelievable spring blizzard didn’t stop the modern-day pioneers of Kearns and Ogden (Utah) who found out firsthand what their ancestors went through.
No one expected as much snow as the two groups ran into in their April handcart and covered wagon treks. But it didn’t stop either group from experiencing doughy scones, burnt skirts, raw-potato stew, and square dancing in mud.
The Kearns group of 50 individuals, both youths and parents, pulled hand-carts more than 43 miles, with seminary youths averaging four miles per hour. Dressed in pioneer clothing, the group spent one night in barracks built in 1857.
They weren’t without their problems, however. The 14 handcarts that had been constructed for the event were often overpacked—wheels gave way and water had to be dumped. It meant everyone had to pitch in to help and the food that remained dry had to be pooled. Half of the group didn’t complete the trek because of the severe weather.
Having followed the Pony Express route to Saratoga, Utah, the trek ended with a swim in a heated outdoor pool—in the snow.

Han Sang Ick of the Shin Dang Ward in Seoul knows that he has been richly blessed as a result of his obedience. Although his life has not taken the path he had originally planned, Brother Han says, “I am happier today than I ever imagined.”
A university drama student with aspirations to perform and teach, Brother Han was selected as student body president of the Latter-day Saint institute in Seoul. “All the prior presidents had served a mission,” he explains. “I found myself doing some serious thinking about whether I should serve a mission or not.”
Brother Han, baptized at age seventeen and the only member of the Church in his family, struggled with his family responsibilities. His father had died, and as the eldest son, he was responsible for his mother. “She really expected me to graduate, marry, and take care of her. That is the pattern established through the years.”
Instead, Brother Han graduated, arranged for his mother to be taken care of, and, at age twenty-six, became a full-time missionary. “And of course, that was the right decision,” he concludes. “My mother was blessed, and I established a pattern of righteous decisions.”

There comes a time in all of our lives when we question the existence of our testimony. For me it came when I discovered that though within my mind I knew the Church to be true, within my heart there had been no such witness, or so I supposed.

I wanted my own special witness. I prayed and fasted, fasted and prayed. Finally one day, as I sat in sacrament meeting, my heart began to tremble and my eyes began to water. This is something that often happens to me in testimony and sacrament meetings. I realized then that this was my witness that the gospel is true. I knew that I had always known the Church to be true.

Do not be ashamed to admit you do not know the Church is true. We all must be converted to the gospel spiritually, no matter how many generations our families have been in the Church.
Tony S. RollsWestmead, Australia

My family and I moved to the island of Dominica in the Caribbean in August 2016. We immediately fell in love with the island’s beauty, culture, and people. We attended the local branch and learned much from the members there.
On Monday, September 18, 2017, a Category 5 hurricane, Maria, hit our small island. My husband and I watched as homes and vehicles were thrown down the street by the powerful storm. The fury of Hurricane Maria passed directly over the island, and the destruction was devastating. The day after the storm, we walked through the streets and found that the lush and vibrant rainforest of Dominica now looked like a wasteland.
That same morning, we walked to our fellow branch members’ homes. Only two homes were unscathed and livable. Six of the eight member families who lived on the northern side of the island lost everything. Eighty percent of the homes and buildings on Dominica were declared uninhabitable. Despite this tragedy, many families still smiled. When we asked how they were doing, they responded, “We are blessed to be alive.”
Because our family heeded the prophet’s counsel to be self-reliant, we had food storage. We were able to feed many neighbors, missionaries, and members of our branch. At each meal, we fed an average of 20 people. As we used our food storage to serve and care for those around us, our own burdens felt lighter.
This experience reminded me of Alma and his people, whose “burdens … were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease” (Mosiah 24:15).
Even though we still lived without running water, electricity, and day-to-day comforts, we were strengthened to overcome and to lift others. In the months since Hurricane Maria, I have realized that while it is important to be temporally prepared, we need to be spiritually prepared as well. As we obey and build our testimonies on faith in Jesus Christ, we will have a solid foundation that will not fail when the winds and tempests of life blow around us.

When the one-year anniversary of Joe’s baptism was approaching, he started asking about going to the temple. Again, my reaction was, “Whoa! Slow down! I’m not ready for that.”
So my patient husband waited. Every now and then, he would slip something into the conversation like, “Honey, I read a great article about the temple. Do you want to read it?” or “Hey, babe, I saw a wonderful video about the temple. Do you want to watch it with me?” His enthusiasm was endearing, but it wasn’t getting me any closer to being ready to go to the temple. Finally, one day he asked me directly what made me feel unprepared.
“You know I had some issues with the Church growing up,” I said. “But I loved going to the temple. Baptism trips were my favorite. I loved the way I felt in the temple, so calm and peaceful. But I don’t know about the rest of the temple. What if someone says or does something that bothers me? What if that ruins going to the temple for me? What would be the point of being a member of the Church if you can’t go to the temple? So I don’t want to go until I’m sure nothing will shake me.”
I found solutions to most of my issues, but I was still struggling with one: how could I be part of a church I didn’t always agree with? This led me to the final step of learning from my journal. I realized I needed to try to understand why other people believe what they believe and say what they say. I needed to know why God had directed the Church to be the way it is today.
I found solutions to most of my issues, but I was still struggling with one: how could I be part of a church I didn’t always agree with?
I found my answer through my husband. When he first started reading the Book of Mormon, a line from the title page stood out to him: “And now, if there are faults they are the mistakes of men; wherefore, condemn not the things of God.” Joe had quoted this over and over, but now it meant something more to me.
I realized that the Church exists in an imperfect world populated by imperfect people. And that includes me. We all have times when we get things wrong before we get them right. I realized I needed to stop judging others, just as I wouldn’t want them to judge me. We are all on a path of learning and growth.
I also realized that the Church is the Lord’s. It is in His hands. Yes, He works through imperfect people, but He directs His work. He knows what is needed, and when.
After this, I felt ready to go to the temple. I was pleased to find that it felt just as good on that day as it had years before when I had done baptisms. On our third wedding anniversary, my husband and I went to the temple again to be sealed together and have our son sealed to us. It was so sweet and such a happy day. I kept thinking that this was what all families are meant to be—eternal. And I had yet another realization: though there might be policies or doctrines that might take me time to sort out, there are also rare and beautiful truths in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. One is that each of us can actually talk to Heavenly Father and receive answers. Another is that through living prophets, He gives guidance for our day.

My friend and I were kicking a rock back and forth as we walked to school. I kicked the rock and it hit the side of my neighbor’s truck and made a small dent. I was scared that I would get in trouble, so I decided not to tell anyone. When I got home from school, I felt worse and worse until I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I told my parents what had happened. My dad took me over to my neighbor’s house, and we told him about it. My dad asked if we could clean the truck as payment. We spent a long time cleaning the inside and outside of the truck, and when we took it back I felt much better. I was glad that the Holy Ghost had helped me to choose the right.

Brad is ten years old and attends Primary every Sunday. He loves to sing the Primary songs, and he thinks about their messages.
One day, the Primary president told his class that they were planning a special program for the Primary children to give in sacrament meeting. She wanted the boys in Brad’s class to sing a song on the program. The other boys in the class said that they didn’t want to sing. Because his mom was a counselor in the Primary presidency, Brad knew the planning and preparing that were going into this program. He also knew that the Primary president was a special helper of Jesus Christ and that if He had asked Brad to sing, he certainly would say yes. So he raised his hand and said, “I’ll sing the song alone then!”
The Primary president was very pleased.
When he got home, his mom said, “Brad, you’ve never sung alone before—and in front of so many people! Won’t you be scared?”
Brad said that he would be very scared but that he knew that it was important to do what our leaders ask us to do.
The day of the program arrived, and Brad sat on the stand, waiting for his turn on the program. When he knew that he would be next, he became very frightened. Wondering if any sound would come out of his mouth when he started to sing, he said a little prayer. So did his mom, his dad, his sister, his brother, and the Primary president.
When he stood up to sing, the first words were a little shaky. Then, as he thought of the words he was singing, his voice became stronger and stronger:
“Dare to do right! …” (Yes, he thought, I’m doing the right thing.)
“Dare to be true! …” (I will be true to the teachings of Jesus.)
“You have a work that no other can do; …” (The Primary president asked us to sing.)
“Do it so bravely, so kindly, so well, …” (I’m not quite as scared now—and he sang with all his heart.)
“Angels will hasten the story to tell.” (My prayer is being answered, and everyone is listening to the words I’m singing.)
When he sang the second verse, he wasn’t scared anymore at all, and the words came out loud and full of meaning:
“Dare to do right! Dare to be true!
“Other men’s failures can never save you.
“Stand by your conscience, your honor, your faith;
“Stand like a hero and battle till death.
“Dare, dare, dare to do right;
“Dare, dare, dare to be true,
“Dare to be true, dare to be true.”*
Brad finished the song and sat down. He had a good feeling inside. He looked at the Primary president, then at his mom and dad. They all had tears in their eyes. His sister and brother were smiling, and he was sure that Jesus was smiling, too.

Recently my sister, who is on a mission, sent a letter home that had a hint of discouragement in it. As I wrote back to her, I made sure I left a large part of the last page free so that I could fill it in with words of advice and encouragement.
After all, I had been there and understood what she was feeling. Surely I could come up with something profound on the subject. For a long time I thought about what I could say and, after drawing on my vast experience, finally sat down to finish the letter.
“Hang in there,” I wrote. “I love you.”

For the next appointment I was to meet the elders at their home. I was late and had not read the pamphlet nor the few pages in the Book of Mormon they had asked me to before our meeting. When I got to their home, no one was there. I sat on the porch and waited a few minutes. Then it began to pour down rain. I thought that instead of going home and getting soaked I could wait and see if the elders made it back.
While waiting I decided to read in the Book of Mormon about Christ visiting America. I read of cities being destroyed and of the calamities and suffering. I was captivated with the story and I had to keep reading. Soon I got to the part about God introducing his son. I could not believe what I was reading. The words were so powerful, yet they brought peace to my soul. I believed them. I knew that book contained the word of God. I knew it was true!

“My dream was to be a humanitarian, and this was the door to it,” Loni reflected. “Working in the library, I always wanted to give back . . . but I didn’t see the [opportunity] until Cyclone Gita hit [Tonga].”
It was in the aftermath of Cyclone Gita, that Loni’s engagement on the national level began. Being a librarian and also Tongan, and well-known for her work in the T?maki community, she was asked to help establish the first public library in her beloved island nation of Tonga and serve as the first librarian.
With schools and educational resources destroyed, Loni worked tirelessly with founders, Kahoa and Brendon Corbett, as donations of thousands of books from over 50 Auckland Council libraries, as well as computers, and even bicycles, were brought to the renovated community fale (centre).
The library opened in October 2019, in the village of Kolovai, with plans for a second library underway in a nearby town.
Loni paid her own fare on her trips to Tonga, lived by herself, and donated her time and talents to establish the library. She started weekend English classes, children’s programs, computer and family history classes, job application skills classes, and even bicycle rentals.
She says, “Tongans now understand that a library is more than a building—it is a safe place for growth and development, connections, and learning for many different reasons.”