Gospel Story Finder

Five years ago my husband, Bruce, became seriously ill when we were serving with the consecrated Saints in the Europe East Area. We returned home, and he passed away only a few weeks later. My life changed overnight. I was grieving and felt weak and vulnerable. I pled with the Lord to direct my path: “What would Thou have me do?”
A few weeks later, I was going through my mail when a small picture in a catalog caught my eye. As I looked closer, I realized it was an artist’s rendition of the Samaritan woman with Jesus at the well. At that moment the Spirit spoke clearly to me: “That is what you are supposed to do.” A loving Heavenly Father was inviting me to come to the Savior and learn.

Elder Thomas Matthew Marinho is making an impact as the first service missionary in my community of Portugal. It was a time when young service missionaries were not widely recognized, so this event remains etched in my memory. One of his assignments was specific yet profound — to greet everyone at Institute and Seminary activities with genuine warmth, expressed through heartfelt hugs.
The sight of eager youth patiently awaiting Elder Marinho‘s embrace before the day‘s activities was both moving and heartwarming. However, the true depth of Elder Marinho‘s service revealed itself in a poignant moment during one of these gatherings. A young man, a friend of someone attending, was invited to the Multi-Stake Activity day to learn about the Church. As with the others, Elder Marinho met him as he entered and gave him one of his big hugs. As he was taken aback, the others explained that Eder Marinho was a Service Missionary and one of his assignments is to greet those attending lessons and activities.
I attended a subsequent testimony meeting several weeks later where this visiting young man shared an unexpected revelation: he had just been baptised a member of the Church. He said he felt compelled to join the Church after attending this Multi-Stake Activity. What had made the difference for him? Elder Marinho‘s hugs. He emphasized that a church recognizing and valuing individuals for their capabilities, rather than dwelling on limitations, was undoubtedly the true Church of Jesus Christ. The power of that moment, where everyone felt the Spirit so strongly, affirmed not only the truthfulness of the Church but also the divine calling of Elder Marinho to touch hearts that seemed untouchable by others.
This experience illuminated the profound impact service missionaries can have, transcending their limitations. Their unique abilities possess a strength that resonates in the moment and echoes for years, moving hearts and uplifting spirits. My gratitude extends to Elder Marinho for his kind and loving service, to his parents for instilling such love and vision in him, and to the leaders who, in true Saviour-like fashion, collaborated to enable him to serve and touch the hearts of everyone around him.

Ruth Rodríguez got to know Emanuel Silva when the two were asked to help organize a combined district young single adult activity in Rio Gallegos, more than 200 miles (320 km) to the north, in February 2006. The friend who asked the two to work together hoped they would hit it off. “It worked,” recalls Emanuel, who had been home two years from serving in the Arizona Tucson Mission.
When he and Ruth married six months later, their preparation—spiritual and temporal—helped them overcome their fear of the future.
“I felt the love of my Father in Heaven and that He wanted me to form my family,” Emanuel says of answers to his prayers. “Once I set that goal, He showed me the way and helped me find a wife.”
Ruth adds that goals they set as a couple, including working hard to save money for their trip to the temple, helped them move forward. “Sometimes there were things we wanted to buy,” she says, “but we said, ‘No, we have to save so we can go to the temple.’”
The cost of their flight to and from the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple in 2006 exhausted their savings. “Afterward we had nothing,” says Emanuel, echoing a common newlywed refrain. Today he and Ruth laugh at that memory, grateful that their faith afforded them the “beautiful experience” of being sealed in the temple—an experience that still means everything to them.
“We can have a lot of fearful feelings as we contemplate marriage,” says Ruth. “What about the things we lack? What about our economic situation? What about raising children? But if we are obedient to the word of the Lord, go to the temple, and start our families, we don’t need to worry. The Lord will bless us in ways we never could have imagined.”

The essential service fast offering funds perform is illustrated by the case of a widow and her three young children who went to their bishop for help. They had no money and were indebted to many of the businesses in town. The bishop wrote to her creditors, explaining the situation; fifteen of them made adjustments in the bill of at least fifty percent. Over the next three months, by the use of several hundred dollars in fast offerings, many debts were repaid. This assistance proved to be a great boost for the family—both financially and spiritually. In the months and years that followed, the family was able to function on sound economic principles. Both boys served missions; all three children were married in the temple. The availability of fast offerings at the right time, managed wisely, helped this family to once again live a normal life.

Annet Nankumba of Upperhill Ward in Nairobi, Kenya, first learned about BYU–Pathway from her Mission President in Cote d’Ivoire. Due to her low grades in high school, Annet was very nervous about pursuing a university education. A few months after returning from her mission, she decided to enroll in PathwayConnect and began her journey towards a bachelor’s degree. This will make her the first university graduate in her family. “PathwayConnect has been a great blessing for me. One of my first courses taught me about having a growth mindset. Unlike before, I now look at failure as an opportunity to grow,” she said.

Annet further explained, “Someone with a fixed mindset fears failure, gives up so quickly when things get tough, and sees themselves as not smart. To stay focused on my education path, I have to be positive and trust in my Heavenly Father who will help me navigate the challenges.” Annet says she has also learned better financial management, which is helping her in her small business. “I have learned to prioritize payment of tithing, and I now feel my Saviour’s guidance more in my life. I am inspired by the weekly devotionals and institute of religion classes; all this is helping to increase my faith in the Saviour. I know that I can accomplish hard things!”

Many lives have been blessed by the success of the Philippines Area’s “I Will Go, I Will Serve: 4600” initiative. Aside from the inspired vision of the Area Presidency, the support of the local priesthood leaders and the efforts of youth leaders, the miraculous success of the campaign was also boosted by the catchy theme song performed by Loredel “Daday” Ducena-Baluyot.
Composing the popular anthem with her husband Justin was a labor of love. After the first Area Presidency fireside premiered on Facebook on May 16, 2021, Daday and Justin felt the spirit and were inspired to write the song. After a few weeks, they presented the song to the Church area production team and offered its use to help sustain the momentum of the campaign. The song was reviewed and approved, and by July they were recording it with some help from Brio Divinagracia on the arrangement and background vocals. The song was officially launched during the follow-up Area Presidency fireside on November 21, 2021.
Aside from the 2021 youth theme song “A Great Work,” Daday’s “I Will Go, I Will Serve,” became popular after being part of youth, YSA, and FSY conferences all over the country. It was also listened to and sung along with the 2022 youth theme song “Trust in the Lord.” Recently, the couple rewrote the song as part of the November 20, 2022 Area Presidency fireside launching a heightened and more comprehensive “Come Unto Christ: I Will Go, I Will Serve” initiative.

As my mother told me when I complained of how hard something was, “Oh, Hal, of course it’s hard. It’s supposed to be. Life is a test.”
She could say that calmly, even with a smile, because she knew two things. Regardless of the struggle, what would matter most would be to arrive at home to be with her Heavenly Father. And she knew she could do it through faith in her Savior.
She felt that He was close to her. In the days she knew she was about to die, she talked with me about the Savior as she lay in her bedroom. There was a door to another room near her bed. She smiled and looked at the door when she spoke calmly of seeing Him soon. I still remember looking at the door and imagining the room behind it.
She is now in the spirit world. She was able to keep her eyes on the prize she wanted despite years of physical and personal trial.
Looking back, I now see how that gift of charity—the pure love of Christ—strengthened, guided, sustained, and changed my mother in the struggle on her way home.

It was twenty-eight years ago that two young women brought the greatest and most precious influence into my family’s life.
We were living in a beautiful little town in Texas. Life was calm. I was very active in my church, an officer in the choir, Sunday School teacher, active in our Christian service organization. I loved my fellow church members and my neighbors dearly. We had bought a little home, and we had four lovely children, the oldest ten and the youngest just a few months old.
From my kitchen window I could look through to the end of the block and across the street and watch the construction of a building of some kind. I didn’t know what it was, but something drew me to it, and each day as I did the dishes I’d look out the window and note the progress. Our neighbors were curious, too, and when we found out it was a Mormon church, we were so upset. I didn’t know the Mormons even existed in this part of the country.
Several months passed. The little church on the corner was completed. It was small, but tastefully done in pinkish stone. I never saw anybody with long skirts or funny hats go in and out, though I expected to. I was rather disappointed that the members looked just like us.
One day there was a knock on the door. There stood two young ladies, neatly dressed. I cordially invited them into my home, and, like any good Texan, immediately asked if they’d like a cup of coffee. They politely declined, and we soon entered into a discussion about God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. They told me some things I’d never heard before. They said God had a body—a real body of flesh and bone—and looked much like one of us. Imagine! God, whom I loved so dearly, looking like a person. It almost seemed sacrilegious. I remember saying good-bye to them at the door, thinking, “You’re wonderful young ladies, but you certainly have some funny ideas. Your church has certainly led you astray. But you really believe it with all your hearts.”
About the same time the next week, another knock came on the door. It was the same two ladies. I invited them in, offered them coffee again, and they graciously declined again. Another discussion. Another parting at the door. This time they told me about a present-day prophet! Out loud I said, “It must give you a very good feeling to believe you have a prophet to lead you.” They assured me that it did. My inner thoughts said, “How does this church get them to believe something so strongly?”
Another meeting. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of coffee with us?” Again a polite “No, thank you.” To my amazement my husband came into the room and sat in on the discussion with us.
We had more meetings each week. They told my husband and me all kinds of things—Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, the stone cut out of a mountain without hands, Jeremiah’s prophecies, the two “sticks” that would become one. I had read all these things before. I loved the Bible—it was very dear to me. Even as a child I loved it. I read a chapter each night before I went to bed, so some of the things the young women talked about were familiar. But now they started falling into place in logical order. How exciting it was!
By now our children had joined with us in the discussions, and the two sisters who had originally knocked on our door had been replaced by another pair of lady missionaries. I would put the baby in his playpen, and then we’d start bombarding the missionaries with question after question. We found that the two sticks mentioned in prophecy were the Bible and the Book of Mormon. “Do we get to see the Book of Mormon? When? When can I read it? Next discussion?” This was going to be a long week—I could hardly wait.
The week was long. I kept thinking about the Book of Mormon and could hardly wait to get my hands on it. The day finally arrived, and I hoped in my heart they wouldn’t forget the Book of Mormon. I even thought they might finally have a cup of coffee with us.
As we discussed the Book of Mormon, they told me of a wonderful promise contained in it. Yes, we’d give it a try. We’d pray about it.
It took only a few pages of the Book of Mormon to convince me that it was true. It’s true! This is the word of God! And so, each morning at 6:00 I would take my cup of coffee out on the back steps of the house in the cool morning air and read until the children woke up. How forceful were the words! Who could ever deny, after reading this book, that it was the word of God? It is the word of God! What a feeling of excitement, of discovery, of awe, of warmth, of wonder.
We still had at least three more discussions left when we were interrupted. Our four-year-old daughter, Nancy, came down with what appeared to be polio. I was still teaching a class in my church—dreading now to go—but instead of teaching my Sunday School class that morning, I was feverishly getting Nancy ready for a spinal tap at the local hospital. Our suspicions were confirmed; she had polio. We took Nancy to the Children’s Hospital in Houston, and I packed my Book of Mormon, knowing there would be many hours of waiting ahead of me. Somehow I knew that she would be all right.
In two weeks she was released from the hospital, and I had read a great deal of my new book.
Once more the missionary discussions began. At the next meeting I finally learned why it was that the missionaries kept refusing when I asked them if they would like a cup of coffee. When they told me they abstained from coffee, tea, alcohol, and tobacco, my heart sank. I thought to myself, “Now they’re going to tell me they don’t dance, go to movies, cut their hair, and any number of things.” But I was ready to give up whatever they asked. I already knew the gospel was true.
Now we were near the end of the discussions, and the plan of salvation was being presented. I’ll never be able to describe the joy I felt when I was told that I had dwelt with God before—that he knew me and taught me before I was born. You mean he actually knows me? Me? Just think! God knows me! Me! I was overjoyed. I wept. This was the most beautiful thing I had ever hear—that I had dwelt with God before, and that he knew me personally. Now I could easily think of him as a kind Father, a God of flesh and bone.
When the elders were introduced to us, I was very excited. The sister missionaries had told us about the priesthood, and I was in awe of the elders when they came. I felt the greatest respect for someone who held the priesthood of God. It was such a new thing for me. The children loved them instantly.
Yes, we were baptized. We had knelt in prayer and for the first time, self-consciously and timidly, and prayed together vocally. In simplicity and humility we asked our Heavenly Father if these things were true, and, in answer, received the warm, sweet assurances that only the Holy Ghost can bring.
In the many years since our baptism as a family, there have been many joys—yes, and many sorrows too, especially the death of my husband. Yet we have known the security of the priesthood in our home, the comfort of home teachers. We have laughed, sung, cried; we’ve been down to the depths of despair, and up to the heights of spirituality. We have experienced the sweetness of a temple marriage, the meaning of eternal friendships, the strength of the iron rod when all seemed utterly hopeless. We have helped make peanut butter in welfare projects in Texas, and helped to weed beet fields and canned peas in Provo, where we now live with our new husband and father.
Above all, we are truly grateful to be members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and for the missionaries who made it possible. And now we have sent our own David out as a missionary, with the hope that he will find other receptive souls and bring to them the joy and happiness that the missionaries brought to us.

I was in another country not long ago holding a fireside for young adults. During the question-and-answer portion of the meeting, a young brother raised his hand and asked when the Church would provide more financial assistance for young adults to help them become self-reliant. I thought about this for a moment and then felt impressed to ask him if he had served a mission. He replied that he had. I asked him if he had learned to set goals while on his mission, to plan, to exercise faith, and to work diligently. He was good-natured about it and smiled as he replied that he had in fact learned those life skills. I then said to him, “You are an agent, not an object. You have the ability to act and to do whatever it is that you choose to do. You have been taught everything that you need to be successful in life. Now it is up to you to go forward in faith and to act, rather than to sit back and wait to be acted upon.” I hoped that he felt my love for him and that somehow this exchange helped him to reorient his vision for himself.

I had another exceptional teacher while attending Ricks College many years ago. I was preparing to serve a mission and thought it would be helpful to attend a missionary preparation class. What I experienced changed my life.
From the first day of class, I realized I was in the presence of a master teacher. The teacher was Brother F. Melvin Hammond. I knew Brother Hammond loved the Lord and he loved me. I could see it in his face and hear it in his voice. When he taught, the Spirit enlightened my mind. He taught doctrine, but he also invited me to learn it on my own. That invitation helped me clearly see my responsibility to learn the Lord’s doctrine for myself. That experience changed me forever. Thank you, Brother Hammond, for teaching in the Savior’s way.

Once, when President George Albert Smith was seriously ill, he lost consciousness and thought he had died. He found himself standing near a beautiful lake. Soon he began following a trail through the woods, and after a time he saw a man, whom he recognized as his grandfather, coming toward him.
“I remember how happy I was to see him coming,” President Smith said. “I had been given his name and had always been proud of it.
“When Grandfather came within a few feet of me, … he looked at me very earnestly and said:
“‘I would like to know what you have done with my name.’
“Everything I had ever done passed before me as though it were a flying picture on a screen—everything I had done. … I smiled and looked at my grandfather and said:
“‘I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.’
“He stepped forward and took me in his arms” (Improvement Era, March 1947, page 139).

A final example of being blessed during adversity is finding heightened joy in the return of temple ordinances.
This is best described with a story. When Sister Kaitlyn Palmer received her mission call last April, she was excited to be called as a missionary but felt it equally important and special to go to the temple to receive her endowment and make sacred covenants. Shortly after she scheduled her endowment, the announcement came that all temples would temporarily close due to the worldwide pandemic. After receiving this heartbreaking information, she then learned she would attend the missionary training center (MTC) virtually from her home. Despite these disappointments, Kaitlyn focused on keeping her spirits high.
In the intervening months, Sister Palmer never lost hope of attending the temple. Her family fasted and prayed that temples would open prior to her departure. Kaitlyn would often start her home MTC mornings by saying, “Is today going to be the day we receive a miracle and temples open back up?”
On August 10, the First Presidency announced that Kaitlyn’s temple would reopen for living ordinances on the exact day her early-morning flight to her mission was scheduled. She would not be able to attend the temple and make her flight. With little hope for success, her family contacted temple president Michael Vellinga to see if there was any way the miracle they had been praying for could be realized. Their fasting and prayers were answered!
At 2:00 a.m., hours before her flight departure, Sister Palmer and her family, in tears, were greeted at the temple doors by the smiling temple president with the words, “Good morning, Palmer family. Welcome to the temple!” As she completed her endowment, they were encouraged to move quickly, as the next family was waiting at the temple doors. They drove directly to the airport just in time to make her flight to her mission.

He showed up one night in a dream. He was reasonably good looking except for the fact that he was dressed in a carrot costume. “Hi there, I’m Carrot Guy,” he said. “Or if you like Dickens, think of me as the Ghost of Carrots Past.”
Strangely enough all her dreams took place in what looked like a movie theater. She yelled up to whoever worked in the projection room. “Hey, let’s get on to something a little more interesting here, okay?”
Nothing happened. She turned to face him. “How can you stand to go around dressed up like that?”
“If you think this is bad, try being a cabbage sometime.”
“Look, no offense, okay, but I don’t appreciate you taking up my valuable dream time. I want to dream about Kyle tonight.”
“This is really important stuff here. I’m going to take you on a nutrition journey in your dreams.”
She yelled at the projectionist. “I want another dream, and I want it now!”
“Nothing else is going to happen until I’m finished.”
Down in front of the theater a dim figure who looked like Kyle was standing in the shadows.
“Kyle, is that you? Look, come and take me to the junior prom. Or else we could go on a picnic. You don’t have to make any serious commitment here, you know, because it’s only a dream.”
Kyle stayed where he was.
“It’s no use. We need to begin our journey.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t go out with carrots.”
In a flash he was gone, and in another flash he was back. This time he was wearing jeans and a shirt. The only clue about his identity was a designer carrot sewed onto his shirt. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Better.”
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
“Where are we going?”
“To lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“We’re not going to eat. We’re going to watch you eat the lunch you were served at the school cafeteria today.”
Suddenly they were in the school cafeteria. People walked right through them. “Busy place,” he said.
“Can we go see Kyle?”
“He wouldn’t be able to see you.”
“I just want to stare at him.”
“Instead of that let’s watch you eat lunch.”
“And then can we watch Kyle for a while?”
“We’ll see.”
They walked to the table where she’d sat at lunch that day. “Let’s see,” he began. “We got two slices of bread, some margarine, carrot and celery sticks, a bowl of soup, and a tuna sandwich. That’s what they put on your tray. What did you eat?”
“Nothing.”
“All you had for breakfast was a glass of orange juice. So why weren’t you hungry?”
“I don’t know why. I just wasn’t.”
“Why don’t we ask your stomach if you were hungry?”
“Look, if my stomach is going to start talking in this dream too, then I’m out of here. I’m serious. I’ll wake myself up and never go to sleep for the rest of the night.”
“Relax. Stomachs don’t talk; they just growl. And your stomach was growling while you sat there and looked at your lunch. You were hungry, but you didn’t eat.”
“I’m trying to lose weight.”
“Why?”
“I weigh too much.”
“Did your doctor tell you that?”
“No. I can tell that I do though.”
“How can you tell?”
“I just can.”
“You didn’t eat anything for lunch then, did you?”
“No.”
He sounded hurt. “You threw away everything—even the carrots?”
“I tried to get my friends to eat some of my lunch but they didn’t want it either.”
“But you were still hungry.”
“Not really.”
“Your stomach was growling and you felt weak. You lasted until two thirty and then you bought two candy bars and ate them.”
“I only had one candy bar.”
“It was two. And then you felt so guilty you promised yourself that, to make up for it, you wouldn’t eat supper.”
“I want out of this dream.”
“Sorry but you’re stuck with me for a while. You hardly ate a thing at supper, and then you went to your room to study. At nine o’clock you went downstairs and dished out a quart of ice cream and took it to your room and ate it, and then you felt guilty again and promised yourself that tomorrow would be different and you’d skip breakfast and lunch to make up for the ice cream. Would you like to see those scenes again?”
“No.”
“There’s a pattern developing that can do you a lot of harm if it continues. Why is this happening?”
“I told you before. I need to lose weight.”
“You want to look like the girls on TV that advertise diet soda, is that it?”
“No, but what’d be wrong if I did?”
“Why not accept the body you have rather than the one the billboards and magazines and TV ads say you should have?”
“I just want to lose ten pounds, that’s all. What’s so bad about that?”
“What do you know about nutrition?”
“Enough.”
“The truth is you don’t know much, and what you think you know is wrong.”
“How do you know what I know or don’t know?”
“Let me test you. You think that to lose weight you have to really cut down what you eat. Right?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Wrong. If you quit eating then your body thinks there’s a famine and it starts storing fat cells like crazy, trying to get ready for when there’s no food at all coming in. If you want to lose weight, you have to eat a lot so your body doesn’t worry about where the next meal is coming from.”
“If I ate a lot then I’d gain weight.”
“Not if you eat the right things.”
“What are the right things?”
“Vegetables, fruits, bread, cereal, things like that. And cut down on those double cheese bacon burgers and fries.”
“Basically you’re telling me to eat the way my mother says.”
“Yeah basically.”
“It’s got to be more complicated than that.”
“Is what you’re doing now working for you?”
“It would if I’d just stick to it.”
“Right now you spend most of your time thinking about food. You’re either feeling guilty you ate something or else you’re craving something to eat. You’re becoming totally preoccupied about food. If you ate normally, you’d have more time to think about other things.”
“Like Kyle.”
“If you ate more normally, you’d have more energy to go over and talk to Kyle instead of just looking at him from a distance.”
“I could never do that.”
“Why not?”
“I just couldn’t, that’s all.”
“He’d like to have someone he could talk to.”
“He would?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll do it, but first I want to lose ten pounds.”
“If you wait that long, Diane will be his best friend.”
“All right, I’ll do it, and I’ll eat sensibly and everything. Now can you go away so I can dream about Kyle.”
“Not yet. We have one more visit to make. We need to talk about something else.”
Suddenly they were standing in her kitchen at home. “This is last Sunday right after church,” he said. “Do you remember what happened?” You wanted to watch TV. You asked your dad, and he said he thought you shouldn’t watch TV on Sunday. It really made you mad because the reason you wanted to watch is because you were writing a report about dolphins in school and this was a special hour show about dolphins. Do you remember being angry?”
“Yes, I had a good reason to watch the show.”
“You were angry, but all you did was get up from the table and go to your room and shut the door.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You didn’t explain anything. You just kept your feelings inside of you.”
“What do you think I should have done, started yelling?”
“No, it’s good to control anger, but you need to express your feelings. You could have told your dad you didn’t think it was fair. You could have explained why you wanted to see that particular TV program.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good.”
“Maybe you still wouldn’t have been allowed to watch TV, but at least talking about how you felt would have got your feelings out in the open instead of keeping them bottled up inside you.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“I think you got even by eating that quart of ice cream in your room later that afternoon. And then you felt so guilty about it you went in the bathroom and on purpose threw everything up. Didn’t you?”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I promised myself I’d never do it again.”
“You’re getting into a pattern that keeps repeating itself. It doesn’t leave much time for anything else, does it?”
“I told you, I’ll never do it again. Now can I dream about Kyle?”
“This is probably not something you can stop all by yourself. You need to tell your parents what’s going on.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It would really upset them.”
“They’re not china dolls that’ll break at the slightest problem. They can handle it.”
“Why do I have to tell them?”
“So they can get you some help if you need it.”
“I can stop it myself.”
“Maybe you can, but you still need to tell them right away because they already sense something’s wrong. They just don’t know what it is. Promise me you’ll tell your parents in the morning.”
It took her a long time to decide, but finally she said, “Okay.”
The scene changed and Kyle was there with a big smile on his face. “Thanks for calling me last night,” he said.
“I called you last night?” she asked.
And then it was morning and her mother opened the door to her room and told her it was time to get ready for school.
As she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, her father was reading the paper and her mother was fixing breakfast. She sat down at the table, looked around, took a deep breath, and began. “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to talk to you about. There’s this problem I have and I may need some help.”
Her father put down his paper, and her mother came away from the stove.
And then they talked.

Jaslyn Simpson took a leap of faith in a Beehive class of only two young women. The Beehive adviser in the Crofton Downs Ward, Wellington New Zealand Stake, challenged the Beehives, as part of a lesson on missionary work, to invite a friend to church. And Jaslyn decided she would do it.
“I knew there was something missing in Amy’s life,” Jaslyn says, “so I knew I should introduce her to the gospel.” Jaslyn’s small act of love triggered a major change in the life of her best friend, Amy Valentine. Amy came to church with Jaslyn at the first invitation. She kept coming to Sunday meetings and weeknight activities for the next two months, until Jaslyn and her family moved to Sydney, Australia.
“I had never really had a Christian background. I had no idea how to pray or anything,” Amy says. “But before Jaslyn and her family moved, I decided I was going to keep going to church without them. By then, I knew some other people at church.”
One of those people was Michelle Broczek, the other Beehive in the Crofton Downs Ward. Michelle invited Amy to take the missionary discussions in her home and, with her parents’ approval, Amy was baptized when she was 13. That was five years ago.

After her baptism, a mother living in the Philippines expressed sorrow at having lost her firstborn baby from malnutrition and improper care. With her conversion, there came a great motivation to learn how to properly care for her family. She asked, as she expected another baby, “What do I need to do to have a ‘healthy Mormon baby?’” She took a special course provided by the Relief Society on child care. She was enthusiastic about the lessons and did her best to apply the principles she learned. The second baby was born strong and vigorous and continues to be healthy. The health missionary who helped those teaching the Relief Society course is a local sister called on a full-time health mission. She has since been released from her mission but is still serving her people as a health resource person through the branch Welfare Services Committee.

Although my husband and I came from families with religious and moral principles, we were not satisfied with the way our own family of five was progressing spiritually. I attended the same church we had been reared in, accompanied by our three children—Beverly, Janice, and Ralph. My husband, Raúl, didn’t go to church because he thought that all churches were businesses. He thought they were highly commercialized and that many of the leaders profited from the members’ donations. He also believed religious literature should not be purchased but should be given to people who are interested in it.
In February 1986 my husband chanced to see two Latter-day Saint missionaries walk by our house, and he called them over. His intent was to ask them if the church they represented was interested in buying a lot to build a meetinghouse on. My husband is in the real estate business, so he saw this meeting as a sales opportunity.
The missionaries were not able to give him any information on that matter, but they didn’t miss this chance to ask him if they could set up an appointment for a discussion about the restored gospel. My husband was certain this was just another church like all the others he had come in contact with before, so he asked them to come back the next day. He intended to show them that their church just used God to do business.
We received the missionaries the next day with a bit of suspicion. But as they proceeded to talk to us about the Church and its history, we began to feel something very special in our hearts. When they left they gave us copies of the Book of Mormon, and my husband asked how much he owed for them. To his surprise, the books were free. His surprise was even greater when he realized that this Church was not a business. He became interested and started asking the missionaries all kind of questions.
We went to church every Sunday after that, and by 15 July 1987 our whole family had become converted. We were baptized and later were sealed for eternity as a family in the temple. Our son, Ralph, served as a full-time missionary and later married in the temple. Our two daughters have married returned missionaries in the temple, and we now have nine beautiful and healthy grandchildren.
My husband and I have served in many callings in the Church and have continued to grow spiritually and to help the gospel grow in our branch, located in the southern part of our beautiful isle of enchantment, Puerto Rico. My husband has presided over the Salinas Branch twice. The work has been hard, but we know that our example as a branch has left many seeds scattered over our little town.
What more could we ask of our Heavenly Father? Our gratitude is eternal. What started as a simple sales conversation and an effort to prove the Church was a business came to be the greatest possible celestial transaction for our family—the opportunity to be united with each other, with our Savior Jesus Christ, and with our Heavenly Father.

It’s a bit quieter in the early mornings at the Dunlop household in Capalaba, Australia, these days. Oldest brother, Craig, is serving his mission in the Australia Perth Mission.

“He would come out of his bedroom about 5:30 and, bang, he would shut the door. He would bang down the hall,” said his mother, Kathryn. “We miss that, the big bang of the morning.”

The other seven Dunlop children feel there’s a big hole now that Craig is away from home. Nathan, 14, said, “Craig used to mug me and wrestle me to the floor.”

“He would keep us in line and tell us what we should be doing. Have we practiced our sport? Have we done our homework? Have we read our scriptures? Now he does it long distance,” said Melissa, 17.

This is love at home?

Yes, you feel it when each child grins, as they try to tell their favorite story about their brother.

Maybe the Dunlops learned to love each other from the example of their parents, particularly their father, Robert. Right while they’re talking about their family, Dad arrives home after having been away from home all week because of his work. Everyone is so glad to see him.

Leanne explains, “We miss him. When he gets home, we all bolt for the car when he drives up.”

Robert Dunlop tells of a sad experience in his past. “The last time I saw my dad was when I was going to boarding school. He was ill, and he wanted me to give him a kiss good-bye at the station. I was embarrassed and didn’t give him a kiss in front of all the other kids going away to school. It was the last time I ever saw him. I keep telling my own children of that.”

“So we give him kisses all the time,” said Leanne quickly.

But how does a parent let his children know he loves them when things don’t always go smoothly? “After we have an argument, Dad always says, ‘But I still love you,’” Melissa explains. “He always comes back and gives you a hug—always. Even if I am so angry that I think I don’t like him any more, then he comes back with that. He tells us all the time that he loves us.”

And the Dunlops make happy family memories. One of their favorite things to do together is bike riding—their Maleny bike ride. Sarah explains, “Mom and Dad take the older kids right to the top of the hill. Mom will usually drive down with the babies in the car, and the rest of us coast all the way down the mountain. We love that.”

Then the family all starts talking at once about who had bumped into whom and the funny things that happened, like when Sarah ran over a snake and they didn’t tell her because she would freak out.

Love at home? For the Dunlops it is.

I am indebted to Elder Dallin Oaks for an account, a modern-day parable which I refer to as the parable of the bushy-tailed squirrel, the tree, and the dog, which illustrates my concern:
As two men walked across an eastern university campus, they were attracted by a crowd of people surrounding a large maple tree. As they approached, they noticed that the crowd was being amused by the antics of a fox-tailed squirrel circling the tree, climbing it, and running back down again. A red Irish setter dog crouched nearby, intently watching the squirrel. Each time the squirrel ran up the tree out of sight, the dog would slowly creep towards the tree. The squirrel paid little attention as the dog crept closer and closer, patiently biding its time. People watching this entertaining drama unfold knew what could happen, but they did nothing until in a flash the dog—catching the squirrel unaware—had it in the grip of his sharp teeth.
The people then rushed forward in horror, forcing the dog’s mouth open to rescue the squirrel. It was too late. The squirrel was dead. Anyone could have warned the squirrel or held back the dog. But they had been momentarily amused and had watched silently while evil slowly crept up on good. When they rushed to the defense, it was too late.

Each year the program varies from guest speakers to lessons given by family members. One year Grandma Jones gave each family a small book on the Prophet to read prior to the party. They then took turns expressing their feelings about the Prophet and bearing testimonies of the Savior. That was the year one of their less-active sons expressed his love and gratitude to each family member and began coming back to church.

After 15 months I was reassigned to the American Embassy in Pretoria, South Africa. I was selected as the first Black Marine security guard ever to serve in South Africa. In each place I was assigned, I was handpicked because of my standards. Interestingly, U.S. president Bill Clinton phoned to ask me to accept the South Africa assignment. Those were some of the reasons I received many recognitions and awards.
In South Africa I met the Cleverlys, who were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The mother of the family invited me to their home at various times. She always told me about young adult activities, but I could never attend due to my job schedule. Then she invited me to attend church, and I accepted. But before Sunday came, I had three nights of duty. I went downstairs to the embassy library where there was a computer with a huge search capacity. I just typed in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. All kinds of information came up, and I read for eight hours the first night, eight hours the second night, and eight hours the third night. What I looked at most of all was what Latter-day Saints believed and how they applied it in their lives. Did they live according to what they had established as laws or standards of the Church?
The week preceding my visit to church, I had a dream. I was sitting at a table, and there were two young men with white short-sleeved shirts and black name tags. They were sitting at the sides of a table, and I was seated at the head. When I woke up, I didn’t think much about the dream.
The first time I walked into a Latter-day Saint meeting, I knew there was something different about this church. It happened to be the first Sunday of the month, which meant the members had an opportunity to stand and bear testimony. Now this is the true order of church, I thought.
I was introduced to two missionaries. One of the young men was one of those in my dream, the exact person. Sister Cleverly invited the missionaries and me to her home for dinner. She placed us at the table exactly as my dream had predicted. The missionaries began teaching me.
Later, when I learned the principle of baptism for the dead, I thought it amazing that one could go to a sacred place and do these things for people who had passed away. I thought about my two grandfathers and my grandmother who had passed away. That’s when I started to feel the Holy Ghost. The teachings sounded right to me.
We got to the next principle, which was about families, and I realized I had always known that was true. When I heard about eternal families, I told the missionaries, “I knew this existed.”
Then the missionaries taught me about the Word of Wisdom, and it was then I made a discovery. It felt as if my soul unfolded, and I shed a sort of shell and a new person came out. I felt like I was floating off the ground. I had always lived the Word of Wisdom, and I had wanted to know why I was the way I was. No one had ever had the answer for me. But the Lord did, and I learned that answer through the missionaries and the discussions. I knew everything they had taught me previously was true and everything they would teach me would be true. I had never felt the Spirit so strongly reading the scriptures as when I read Doctrine and Covenants 89:18–21. I knew it was true. I always knew my body was important, and I knew it was never to be defiled.
From this point forward, I began to experience mixed emotions about becoming a member of the Church. I was concerned about my father’s opinion and his reaction to my decision.
During the sixth discussion, I received the message that I had an incoming call from my father. The phone rang. I picked it up, and it was indeed my dad.
He said, “Your mother informed me you’ve made a decision to join the Latter-day Saints.”
I said yes.
He said, “I’m here to prevent that from happening.”
And I said, “You know what, Dad? I love you and you’ll always be my dad. You’ve done a great job with me. But I’m 22. I’m a man now, and these decisions are for my family and my future. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and will continue to do for me, but this is my decision. I’m going to do it, and I know the Lord wants me to do this.”
My dad wasn’t very happy when he hung up the phone. Immediately I got on my knees and asked the Lord to help me see and understand that what I was going to do was correct. I was thousands of kilometers from home. I was all alone, and nothing was going right. Only when I was with the missionaries did I feel good. At that moment the Spirit testified to me that it was the Lord’s will and that the Lord wanted me to be baptized. A very clear voice said, “You are to do the Lord’s will. You are to follow His example.” Then I knew. I never looked back after that. I was baptized on 12 October 1995.
It was a year to the day of my baptism, 12 October 1996, that I entered the Washington D.C. Temple to be endowed in preparation for serving full time in the Spain Madrid Mission.
During the first year of my mission, my parents were not supportive of my missionary service. The Lord revealed to me while I was on my mission that my family was fine and they would be taken care of. Then things changed all of a sudden. The last six to eight months of my mission, my family was very supportive. They said they were receiving blessings, and they knew it was because of my mission.
After I returned from my mission, I stayed with my family for three weeks before leaving to enter Brigham Young University. Before school started my father visited me, meeting my friends and seeing Salt Lake City. When I took him to the airport, he embraced me and said, “Out of all 46 years of my life, never ever have I felt more love or the Spirit of God in my home than when you were home the last few weeks. I know we owe it to the service you gave in Spain for two years.”