Gospel Story Finder

Some of you may have read in the March issue of the New Era the story of a handicapped girl named Jenni. She was lonely and not very attractive. One day she said to her classmates, “I need a friend. I need someone who will eat lunch with me. Who will be my friend?” One girl stood and said, “I will be your friend,” and then another did likewise. They ate lunch with her. They encouraged her. They helped her. They brought new life into the dark world of this handicapped girl. And in the process they brought new happiness into their own lives. (See Victor W. Harris, “The Miracle of Jenni,” New Era, Mar. 1996, 12–14.)

Most of those who work in the storehouse are recipients of commodities. There are a minimum number of full-time staff members. One example of what happens when the spirit of this program permeates the activity is that of a thirty-two-year-old man who came to the storehouse. He was unable to read or write or even to speak. He was deeply disturbed. He was accepted by the other workers with love and understanding and was trained to accomplish a simple task. He learned to become a stock boy, stocking the shelves with commodities. Because he could not read, the staff placed pictures on the boxes so that he could match pictures and properly stack the cartons on the shelves. Through their patience and love, this young man has gained the ability to keep the shelves properly stocked with the proper commodities. Part of his compensation is provided in food which he takes to his parents and other members of his family to help provide for their needs. The happiness and fulfillment shown by this handicapped person as he receives the food to take home is truly an inspiration to all others.

When I was afforded the privilege to serve as a mission president, I became intimately acquainted with almost 500 missionaries. We had one young missionary who was very ill. After weeks of hospitalization, as the surgeon prepared to undertake extremely serious and complicated surgery, he asked that we send for the missionary’s mother and father. He said that there was a possibility that Elder Davidson could not survive the surgery. The parents came; and late that evening, his father and I, in the hospital room in Toronto, Canada, placed our hands upon the head of that young missionary and gave him a blessing. What happened following that blessing was a testimony to me.

Elder Davidson was in a six-bed ward in the hospital. The other beds were occupied by five men with a variety of illnesses. The morning of Elder Davidson’s surgery, his bed was empty. The nurse came into the room with the breakfast these husky men normally ate. She brought a tray over to bed number one and said, “Fried eggs this morning, and I have an extra portion for you.” Bed number one was occupied by a man who was lying on his bed with his toe wrapped up in a bandage. He had suffered an accident with his lawn mower. Other than his injured toe, he was well physically. He said to the nurse, “I’ll not be eating this morning.”

“All right, we’ll give your breakfast to your partner in bed number two!” As she went over to him, he said, “No, I think I’ll not eat this morning.”

She said, “That’s two in a row. I don’t understand you men, and there is no one this morning in bed three.” She went on to bed four, bed five, and bed six; and the answer was the same. “No, this morning we’re not hungry.”

The young lady put her hands on her hips and said, “Every other morning you eat us out of house and home, and today not one of you wants to eat. What is the reason?”

And then the man who occupied bed number six came forth with the answer.

He said, “You see, bed number three is empty. Our friend Davidson is in the operating room under the surgeon’s hands. He needs all the help he can get. He is a missionary for his church; and while he has been lying on that bed while we have been patients in this ward, he has talked to us about the principles of his church—principles of prayer, of faith, of fasting wherein we call upon the Lord for blessings.” He said, “We don’t know much about the Mormon church, but we have learned a great deal about Davidson; and we are fasting for him today.”

I might tell you that the operation was a success. In fact, when I attempted to pay the surgeon, he countered, “Why, that would be dishonest for me to accept a fee. I have never before performed surgery when my hands seemed to be guided by a power which was other than my own. No,” he said, “I wouldn’t take a fee for the surgery which Someone on high helped me to perform.”

Elder Davidson framed his life with faith.

One of our sons struggled with fitting in and self-esteem during his teenage years. My wife and I prayed to know how to help him, and we were willing to do whatever the Lord would have us do. One day I felt prompted to ask my elders quorum president if he knew of anyone in need who I could visit together with my son. After some thought, he asked us to visit a woman with significant health challenges and, with permission from the branch president, to bring the sacrament to her each week. I was elated but also concerned about how my son would react to this weekly commitment.
On our first visit, our hearts ached for this dear woman, as she was in constant pain. She was very grateful for the sacrament, and we enjoyed visiting with her and her husband. After a few visits, one Sunday I was away and could not accompany my son, but I reminded him of our assignment. When I got home, I couldn’t wait to hear how the visit went. My son replied that he didn’t think his classmates got to do cool things like this. And he elaborated by saying that he brought his brother with him to help and that the sacrament went smoothly, but this dear sister had been sad during the week because she had invited friends to her home to watch movies, but her video player would not work. My son said he searched online, found the problem, and fixed it for her on the spot. He felt useful, happy, and trusted to do something that brightened her day. He felt God’s love for him.

A little while ago, my bishop invited our ward to think of some weakness or sin that we could figuratively leave at the sacrament table for Jesus Christ to take away. There are sins I’ve carried with me throughout my young adult life that I’ve tried to conquer but haven’t been able to overcome through prayer or my own willpower. Despite my growth throughout the years, I knew I needed to overcome them to continue progressing.
The Sunday after the bishop’s challenge, I decided that I would leave just one of my sins on the sacrament table, a physical representation of the Savior and His atoning sacrifice. As I prepared to take the sacrament, I remembered that the cloth covering it represented His burial cloth, and the bread and water represented His body and blood.
With sincerity and full purpose of heart, I renewed my baptismal covenants and said a prayer in my heart, asking Heavenly Father for help and making a commitment to leave this sin behind. Then something happened I never expected: my desire to sin completely left. I tried this a few more times, and the same thing happened with other sins. Was it too good to be true?
The next week, I knew what sin I wanted to leave at the sacrament table, but I didn’t feel ready to give it up. Looking back, I realize that my heart wasn’t in the place it needed to be. I wasn’t being sincere enough to commit to change. But I realized how much the sin hurt Heavenly Father. I knew I needed to align my will with His and center my life around Him to become free. So I did my best to make that a reality.
I avoided any temptation that could lead to this sin. I changed the way I read my scriptures every day and truly pondered them and applied them to my life. I focused on being sincere in my commitment to change, and I sought every day to seek the Lord’s will over mine. I put Him first, because I knew I couldn’t leave this sin behind without the power of the Savior’s Atonement. By continuing to put Him first, I was able to surrender this sin at the sacrament table. I was finally free from something that had held me back for so many years.
Through this process, I grew closer to my Heavenly Father and my Savior. I imagined Them looking down on me for all of these years with patience and love—knowing, eventually, I would give up the sins that spiritually hampered my progress. And when I was ready to give them up, Jesus Christ would be there to lift me—to take me by the hand and grant me forgiveness and strength. He already provided a way for me to become free from my sins through His Atonement. He paid the price for my weaknesses, mistakes, and sins. I just needed to trust Him.
During this time, I read some words from Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles that gave me the little push I needed: “If your life is in disarray and you feel uncomfortable and unworthy … , don’t worry. He already knows about all of that. He is waiting for you to kneel in humility and take the first few steps. Pray for strength. . . . Pray that the love of the Savior will pour into your heart.”1
When we sang “I Stand All Amazed” (my favorite hymn) the next week, each word rang true; I really was amazed—in awe that the things I had struggled with for more than a decade were taken from me. In awe that through the power of the Savior’s Atonement, I could move forward. That He can heal all sins and wounds and leave no trace of them behind. That I didn’t need to be held back by my past.
I still have so much to learn and overcome, but my life is on an upward course. I’m feeling more joy and peace. I’m expressing more gratitude. I’m coming closer to and strengthening my testimony of Heavenly Father and the Savior. Every day that I choose to try again, I come one step closer to Them and the person They know I can be.

Another of the great blessings of my life has been to feel the closeness of heaven during those moments when I sit at the bedside of people as they pass away. Early one morning some years ago, I entered the hospital room of a faithful Latter-day Saint widow who had cancer. Two of her daughters were sitting with her. As I went to her bedside, I quickly discovered that she was no longer suffering, because she had just died.

In that moment of death, the room was filled with peace. Her daughters had a sweet sadness, but their hearts were filled with faith. They knew that their mother was not gone but had returned home. Even in our moments of deepest grief, in the moments when time stands still and life seems so unfair, we can find comfort in our Savior because He suffered as well. It was a privilege for me to be in that room.

When President Harold B. Lee was growing up in Clifton, Idaho, “money was dreadfully scarce” for his family. Their “farm produced generously, but grain and potatoes brought little” monetary return. Their “father augmented the family income by contracting for custom grain cutting, drilling wells, and building irrigation canals.” And so they had sufficient for their needs. “The Church provided entertainment opportunities” for the family.

“The Lee children did not know they were poor.” Their home was filled with love and laughter, reading, and music. Their mother was a skilled homemaker who made a very little go a very long way. Her children were always dressed appropriately for church. As an adult, President Lee recounted, “We had everything money could not buy.”

Young women in Liberia, Africa, taught each other about their divine nature and the Young Women Personal Progress program with a little help from young women on the other side of the world during a special district Young Women conference in August 2009.
Training and preparation began three months in advance for the young women, who live in the Monrovia Liberia Bushrod Island District of the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission. The theme for the conference was “Princess for a Day, Queen for Eternity.” Each branch in the district was responsible to present a workshop on a value and create a short skit teaching another value, emphasizing how a daughter of God would treat others and herself.
“These young women are the future of Africa, the pioneers of their country in this glorious gospel,” said Sister Belinda Wire, a full-time missionary who participated in the conference with her husband, Elder Bill Wire.
After the workshops, skits, and other activities, organizers presented the young women with letters sent by young women from a different country, sharing their testimonies of the gospel and Personal Progress.
“Hearts were united across the world,” Sister Wire said. “As these young sisters held the letters, they knew that those young women believe as they do, read the same books, follow the same programs, are guided by the same prophet, and are loved by the same God.”

Eliza wiped her brow as she began the evening meal. It seemed only yesterday that she had been in the cool, green Sussex countryside of England, among her beloved family and friends. Her husband, Edward, had owned a large fishing boat. Life had been pleasant and secure. Eliza smiled as she fixed dinner a short distance from the railway tracks. She thought back on the day the missionaries had taught her family the restored gospel. Accepting the gospel truths had added the missing spiritual knowledge their lives had lacked.
With Eliza’s conversion came an intense desire to join the Saints in the Valley of the Great Salt Lake. Whenever she had a farthing or two after meeting household expenses, she put them into her “emigration fund” and dreamed of the day they would sail to America.
Her reflections were interrupted as little Keziah and Keturah called to her to share their discovery of a pretty pebble. Her daughters, aged four and two, were truly a delight to her. Their simple joys at seeing gophers, sunflowers, and buffalo as they crossed the United States made their trip bearable. Still, Eliza worried about their future.
If not for the gospel, the future would have been very bleak the day a violent storm had sunk Edward’s boat, even though it had been secured to the dock. With the irreplaceable loss, Edward had carefully weighed their alternatives and decided to go to America. Eliza remembered how her heart had leaped at the prospect of a home where their children could grow up within the shadows of the temple that was being built.
Friends in England had scoffed at their “foolishness”. So what if they had run into a bit of bad luck. That was no reason to abandon their home and livelihood and head off to America. Didn’t they care about their children’s future? Why, Edward, Jr. was only six weeks old. Surely he would never survive such a journey! Besides, they had no money except the little that Eliza had managed to save.
But Edward and Eliza were determined. By selling their household goods, they raised enough money to travel from Sussex to Liverpool and to partially secure passage to New York aboard the Hudson. To help pay the rest of their passage, Edward worked on the ship as a cook.
Eliza’s thoughts again returned to the present as the sun began to set. She called her daughters and husband to eat the meager meal of ash cakes, jerky, and dried fruit.
Upon arriving in New York, she had written to their families in England that she and Edward and the children were all well and that the six-week crossing of the Atlantic had been uneventful, in calm weather, and with no awful sickness.
Indeed, the real challenges had begun after they’d arrived in New York. In order to get to the Missouri River, where they would be outfitted with a small wagon, they had to ride the train in open cattle cars because all other kinds of cars were being used in the Civil War. At times there was barely standing room in the cattle cars! Some passengers sat in the doorways, their legs dangling precariously over the edge. The pungent odors of so many people traveling in such crowded conditions, mixed with the stench the cattle had left behind, made the journey very unpleasant.
Not only were the cattle cars crowded and uncomfortable, but also dangers abounded. Once, sparks from the wood-burning engine flew wildly about and set some of the passengers’ clothing on fire. Fortunately the flames were quickly smothered by nearby travelers.
Times like this evening, when the train stopped for a while, were a blessing—families could eat together away from the noisy crowds and the heat and smell of the cattle cars. Keturah and Keziah especially enjoyed running and stretching their legs, breathing fresh air, and not worrying about soot or sparks from the engine. Even baby Edward cooed and smiled when Eliza placed him on a blanket in the cool shade of a bush before preparing dinner.
The call of “All aboard!” interrupted their meal. Hastily the family gathered their few belongings, and Eliza told Keziah and Keturah to take their father’s hands.
Turning to pick up baby Edward, Eliza’s heart leaped into her throat. Her precious babe was not where she had laid him just an hour earlier! Keziah and Keturah said that they hadn’t moved their baby brother while playing. Frantically the family began to search the nearby bushes. While she searched, Eliza fervently prayed for Heavenly Father’s help in finding her son.
“All aboard!” sounded in Eliza’s ears again. The train was about to leave!
Suddenly a flash of lightning lit the sky, and she saw where her sleeping son lay. Scooping him up, she gratefully thanked Heavenly Father for His loving and watchful care.
It didn’t matter to Eliza that she had sacrificed much for the gospel, or that she would ride many more miles in cattle cars before walking west alongside a wagon for hundreds of miles more. She was just grateful for the gospel and the knowledge it gave her of a loving Heavenly Father Who was watching over her and her family.

Come with me for a moment to the small island of Lifuka in the South Pacific. The time is 1956. I was serving as a young missionary in Tonga and had recently been appointed district president of the Ha’apai District, with headquarters in Pangai on this island of Lifuka. The district covered seventeen islands. Because our only means of transportation was by sailboat, I needed some experienced, sea-worthy counselors. As always, the Lord provided, and two fine local men were chosen as counselors.

I will mention just one at this point. His name was Brother Vea. He had a beautifully kept thatched home, a lovely, clean yard, and a beautiful family. He had a nice garden to provide food for him and his family, and in addition he grew a lot of peanuts. To earn money he was a peanut vendor, and most evenings one would see him out with his cart, selling peanuts and a few other items his wife had made. The best days and evenings for business were when there were shows or rugby games or fairs or other forms of entertainment in town.

I don’t know how many times we would have presidency meetings on the night of a big dance or social, but never was I aware of his saying, “I can’t come tonight,” even though selling peanuts was his main source of income.

Very often our schedule called for us to go to another island for a conference or for tracting or some other Church business which would take us away from Pangai right during a main rugby match or other large gathering. But never once did I hear Brother Vea complain or suggest we change our schedule. He was committed to serving to the best of his ability in the position to which he was called. He chose to invest in obedience and in service to others—often at the seeming expense of some worldly gain.

Now, let’s follow that particular investment through. About fifteen years later, as a Regional Representative, I was given a special assignment to the South Pacific. I had the responsibility of holding some meetings in California and then moving on to Honolulu and to the islands farther south. We had two meetings scheduled in California—one in the evening and one the next morning—involving a few stake presidents there. As we went through the agenda that evening, I found myself feeling that we ought to finish all our business that night and not stay on the next morning. Partway through the agenda I announced that we would do so, and, of course, the presidents asked, “Why?”

I said, “I don’t really know why, but that’s the way it’s going to be.” (Most stake presidents are pretty submissive when someone else is in charge.) We completed the entire agenda that evening, even though it was late. Then I began to wonder why myself.

I didn’t have a reservation out the next day until the early afternoon because we had originally scheduled to meet until noon. I wondered, “What am I going to do with these extra several hours I have?”

I got up early the next morning and, as all of you would do, prayed fervently to know if there was something I ought to do. I didn’t have any especially strong feelings, but I thought, “Well, I’d better check.” So I called the airport and said, “I have a reservation on this particular plane. Do you have anything leaving before then?”

The man said, “Well, we have one leaving in forty-five minutes. Where are you?”

I said, “I’m here at the hotel.”

He said, “Oh, you’ll never be able to make it.”

I asked, “Do you have space?”

He said, “Yes.”

I said, “Let me give it a try.” So I quickly gathered up everything, threw it in the suitcase, and charged off to the airport. As it turned out, I went straight to the gate and was the last person on the plane, but I did get on.

I arrived in Honolulu four or five hours later, and then I thought, “Well, now you’ve really blown it.” The meetings I had were in Laie, and here I was in Honolulu with no one to pick me up for many hours. What should I do now?

In just a few minutes I ran into a young man whom I had known in the mission field. He asked, “What are you doing right now?”

I said, “I’m just sort of waiting around.”

He replied, “I’m on my way up to the hospital. Did you hear that the other night Brother Vea was flown in from Tonga? He has some kind of disease, and he is over at the Queen’s Hospital. I was just going to visit him. If you have a few moments, would you like to come?”

I said, “Sure.”

Together we went to the hospital to visit Brother Vea. (This was the same man who had served as the very faithful and helpful counselor to me when I was district president those many years before.)

When we got to the hospital, the nurse wouldn’t let us in. She said, “He is in very serious condition, and only family members can visit him.”

I knew that I had to get in. This was the first time I began to feel for sure that this was what I ought to be doing. I said to the nurse, “Look, I’ve come several thousand miles to visit him. He asked me to come and visit him. Would you let me in?” I showed her my ticket.

She said, “If you have gone to all that effort, I guess I will let you see him.”

We went in. He was writhing in pain. His whole body was yellow with a very jaundiced condition because of a serious kidney problem. His eyes were closed. One could tell he was really hurting.

I went over to him and said, “Brother Vea, I’ve come to visit you.”

He suddenly stopped writhing and opened his eyes. They were about as yellow as anything I had ever seen. Then he said, “Oh, thank you for coming. I knew that you were scheduled for a conference in Tonga, and I knew that the only way to get there was by coming through Honolulu.” He then proceeded, “All last night I prayed as fervently as I could that some way or another you would come and visit me. As you know, I don’t have much family here. I don’t have a bishop here. I don’t have home teachers here. I don’t have many friends here. I really need a blessing. I’m in a bad way. Would you please bless me?”

We administered to him. As I began to seal the anointing, I thought that everything would be just fine. With his kind of faith, how could it be otherwise? But, as is so often the case, that wasn’t what the Lord had in mind.

I won’t go into detail, but basically I had the opportunity of telling him what the Lord had in mind for him, of actually specifying what he would be doing in just a short period of time. I was able to tell him that very shortly he would be performing a certain service on the other side that was badly needed. In a way it was a shock to me, but the Spirit was so strong there was no question as to the Lord’s will. When we concluded, he looked up at me and simply said, “Thank you, thank you very much. I really wanted to live here, but more than that I want to do my Heavenly Father’s will. I appreciate knowing what it is.”

We left. Hours before the plane I was originally scheduled to come on even arrived, Brother Vea was transferred from this sphere of existence to his next assignment, and he went with a great peace and calm in his heart. What a return on investment!

I wrote to my wife about the experience. I remember receiving a letter from her saying, “The folks dropped in tonight, and I shared the letter about Brother Vea with them. I told them I had been thinking that we so often try to figure out why things happen when and how they do and analyze and give reasons—the ins and outs of pressures and politics, and so forth, in the busy schedules and assignments of the Brethren. At the time all seemed to be playing their roles in determining when you needed to hurry and get away on this trip. And yet, with all due respect to the Brethren and their heavy responsibilities, I guess the Lord even uses such things to get His real purposes accomplished. A humble, faithful servant, unknown to most of the world, or to the Church for that matter, needed a blessing and a confirmation and calling from his Father, and our Father saw that he received it when the time was right.”

A fifteen-year investment paid off in a quiet, yet stunningly impressive way. And his service paid dividends of joy all through those years and will continue to pay increasing dividends throughout all eternity.

Patrick Smith, another young man in the Hingham stake, reports that once a month in his branch’s Aaronic Priesthood meetings, the young men report on any missionary experience they have had and then set up times to work with the full-time missionaries.
“Not long ago I went with the missionaries to teach a family who had already been taught the Joseph Smith story,” Patrick says. “The elders asked me to teach about Christ coming to the earth and establishing His Church. Preach My Gospel clearly illustrated everything and listed scriptures to back everything up. It was all outlined there.
“I knew about these things and had a testimony of them, but Preach My Gospel and going on exchanges with the missionaries has helped me teach these principles better,” Patrick says. “The doctrines outlined in the book have reinforced what I’ve learned at home and in Primary for as long as I can remember. And the things taught in Preach My Gospel invite the Spirit, which is the most important thing we can have when we’re talking about the Church.”

Over spring break, I got to talk with my sister who is serving her mission in the Idaho Idaho Falls Mission. I told her that track was about to start and how excited I was. I told her how badly I wanted to beat the school record for the 1600-meter and 800-meter races.
“I probably won’t be able to. The record time is pretty fast,” I told my sister. The school record did seem impossible. I started thinking about the one girl I had never been able to beat. Maybe trying to keep up with her or even beating her would be a better goal.
My sister did not answer right away, but she seemed to be smiling through the phone. “I know I’m a missionary,” she said. “So you might expect me to give you some kind of a challenge, but I really want you to try something. I want you to try to read your scriptures and pray every day. And if you do, God will bless you to do your best.”
“I’ll try,” I said. I had not really been reading my scriptures every night, and I wasn’t quite sure if, or how, reading would help me run.
The next few nights I read, prayed, and went to bed without really thinking about it. One night as I was brushing my teeth, I thought, “I’m not really getting anything out of reading the scriptures.” Then I remembered President Russell M. Nelson’s invitation to read the whole Book of Mormon and mark all references to Jesus Christ (see “Sisters’ Participation in the Gathering of Israel,” Oct. 2018 general conference [Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2018, 69–70]). So I started to mark the references to Christ as I read. I began to get more out of reading and to truly ponder the scriptures.
After 15 consecutive days of reading and praying every night, I had my first track meet. And I was super nervous. My first race was the 4x800-meter run. I was the anchor runner. When I started running the last leg, my team was in 7th place out of 10 teams. We finished in 3rd place. Had I gotten faster?
While I was waiting for the mile, I watched all the other races and prayed that I would do well. When we walked to the starting line, my heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest. I prayed again and felt peace. We were all lined up, and I had a flashback from all the mile races I had run in the year before. I would be in first place the whole race, unsure if my pace was fast enough to beat the record. Then on the final stretch, I would get discouraged when a certain girl from another school would sprint ahead of me and take first place. So I decided to try to do that myself this time.
As the gun went off, I went straight behind the girl from the year before. We were in first and second place. My coach was at the 200-meter mark, and she told me my time and encouraged me. I wanted to run up ahead, but I knew that she would pass me on the last stretch if I did. She kept looking back at me like she was afraid of me.
On the last lap, I could hear the girl who was in third place trying to pass both of us. So I bolted. I ran as fast as I could. There were so many people cheering—my parents, teammates, and friends’ parents.
When I passed the finish line, the first thing that came to my mind was, “Did I do it?” Then I turned and saw everyone else finish. Then I looked toward the girl I hadn’t been able to beat before. Her eyes were big when she said, “Man, you got so much faster.” I had won!
I was so happy. I couldn’t believe I had actually done it! Then I realized that I hadn’t done it alone. I said a quick prayer to thank Heavenly Father. Taking my sister’s challenge helped me to be better at studying the scriptures. And I had a better relationship with Heavenly Father. I had also been able to get faster and smarter about my running. Heavenly Father listens to our prayers. And if we do our part and have faith, He will answer them.
The author lives in Missouri, USA.

The stake’s program, called Adopt-a-Block, was developed over a period of months as they consulted with Mary and with the city council volunteer program. To lend support, the city donated 2,000 gallons of paint, plus rollers and brushes, and convinced a waste management company to donate the use of a dumpster, a land fill company to donate space at a dump site, and a grocery chain to donate trash bags.
“The point of the program was to expose the youth to a different environment and life-style, within 20 minutes of where they live,” said David Garrett, East Millcreek North Stake Young Men president. “We need to provide service for those in our own community. These are our brothers and sisters, and they need our help.”
By the end of the day, the dumpster was full, several houses had fresh coats of paint and new lawns, and grass, trees, and bushes looked neat and trimmed. But far more important, the youth of East Millcreek had learned about serving others.
“I felt like Mary’s block was my block, too,” said Andrea Ence, 12.
Adopt-a-Block wasn’t an earth-shattering event. It didn’t even last the entire day. But ask Mary Allen if it helped, and her smile will tell you immediately.
“It may not have changed the world,” she said. “But I think it changed some hearts. And that’s the beginning of changing the world.”

We decided to cook someone dinner. We made a dinner of baked pasta that we cooked ourselves and helped our mom make the spaghetti sauce. We buttered and heated the bread. After our mom finished the rest of the dinner, we took it to our neighbors. They were moving and their kitchen was all packed up. They were so happy to have the yummy meal. It made us happy to help them.
Tyler, Ashley, and Nicole G., ages 7, 7, and 3, Arizona

A Broadway star had a colorful way of expressing his opinion about the place of pride in his work. He had been hired to be the lead in a production of Fiddler on the Roof with a cast of college students. I was asked to give a prayer with the cast on opening night. The Broadway veteran, who had played the part hundreds of times, stood at the back of a ring of students gathered around me just before the curtain was to go up. He looked puzzled.

As I recall now, I prayed about the way you might have done. I pleaded with God that the members of the cast would be lifted above their natural abilities, that the stage equipment would function well, that the hearts of the audience would be softened, and that they would be touched. I can’t remember much else of the prayer, but I can remember what happened just after I said “Amen.”

The Broadway star jumped into the air, landed on the stage with the sound of an explosion coming from his heavy boots, slapped his hands to his sides, and then thrust them into the air and shouted, “Okay, now let’s go for it!” If the audience heard his bellow, and I can’t imagine that they didn’t, they must have expected the cast to come charging through the curtain out into the audience bent on some kind of mayhem.

I can only assume that he was determined to counteract the terrible mistake he had just witnessed. The last thing on earth he wanted was to go on a stage with a bunch of amateur actors who had been infected with humility.

Sometime in each of our lives we are given the opportunity to stretch our faith. Some of you may have had such experiences. Let me suggest that God is not through with you. I would like to share one such experience that was sent to me by a sister serving as a missionary in Lusaka, Zambia:
From ZambiaDear President:
This week I had some interesting experiences, but one defining moment in particular. Thursday Sister Odida and I got the inactive list from the Relief Society President and spent the day finding the inactive sisters. Sister Odida and I both felt prompted to go to certain places, so we followed the spirit and went - but had no success. It was a very frustrating day, full of "fall-throughs." As we started the very long walk home I couldn't help but feel discouraged. The road kept getting longer and longer and my strength weaker and weaker. I thought, "WHY? Why didn't things happen today? We followed the Spirit - What good did it do?" The conversation continued in my head:
Impression: You were obedient, weren't you?
Me: Yes, but there were no results.
Impression: "So - why do you need results? Isn't it enough to have faith that you were in the right place at the right time doing the right thing?"
Me: "Yeah, I guess so - at least I know I can "go and do." But I am so TIRED! Was my effort really worth it?"
Impression: "Why did you get out of bed this morning? Why did you ‘waste your energy by being obedient?"
Me: "Because I love the Lord so much. But I will never be able to really show Him how much I love Him. I can't give enough.
I can't believe I have to walk to Kamwala tomorrow. I DON'T HAVE THE STRENGTH! I love Heavenly Father and I Know He needs me to go down to Kamwala tomorrow but I JUST CAN'T!"
Needless to say that by then I was in tears. Then an image come to my head of me kneeling (before) My Father in Heaven sobbing (and) saying, "I love you so much - but I don't have the ability to show that love. Whatever I give will NEVER BE ENOUGH!" Then I saw the Savior kneel next to me and say, "Father I love HER so much that whatever she can't give, I will make up. Please accept her offering."

One of Satan's greatest tools is to make me think that the atonement is only for big sinners, but for people on the right path, we have to do it by ourselves. I now have a real understanding of the atonement of the Savior and how much strength I can and MUST gain from it. We went to Kamwala the next day and it was great. How thankful I am for the Atonement. How Real it is!! And it's not just a one-time-use thing. Strength comes daily even HOURLY from this precious gift. I know I will never have enough, but it's okay if I trust my Savior - Jesus Christ - to make up the difference.!
Sister Watts

Growing up in a small village in Côte d’Ivoire, Elder D. Martin Goury dreamed of becoming a clergyman and serving others.
In October 1992, while in London, England, learning English and getting an education, he met Latter-day Saint missionaries. The missionaries, one of whom was the only native French-speaking missionary in London, gave Elder Goury a copy of the Book of Mormon in French.
He started reading the book and soon received a witness of its truthfulness. When a new pair of missionaries came to his apartment a few months later, he joined the Church. “I remember being very happy,” he said.
His joy increased as the missionaries taught him about the priesthood. “They explained the meaning of the priesthood and how I could use that to serve other people. For me, that was my dream coming true,” Elder Goury said. “I was delighted.”

It was just a piece of paper on the ground. Geoff was on his nightly run and almost ran right past it, but something prompted him to stop and pick it up. Bending down, he saw the note, which read, “Pick me up. I’m yours!” When he opened the note, he found a big surprise. Inside was a $100 bill and a note that read, “This is for you. Hope you have a wonderful day!”
As Geoff finished his run, he thought of all the different things he could use the money for, such as new running shoes or a nice dinner. But by the time he got home, he had thought of a better idea. Instead of using the money for himself, he would use it to bring a little joy to others.
“I figured if I blew the money all at once on myself, I would forget about it the next day,” Geoff explains. “I realized what a great opportunity I had, and I wanted to make a real difference. Finding the $100 bill really made my day. I thought that if I could split the money up and help out 100 people, it would be making the day of 100 people. That would be 100 times better than just making my day once.”
So, Geoff started the 101 Happy People Project. The 101st person is Geoff, because of the joy he felt when he found the money, and Geoff is finding ways to bless 100 other people.
Geoff was able to double the 100 dollars by putting it in a bank that was having a special promotion. Because of the promotion, after tithing, he had two dollars to spend on almost every person he helped. But can two dollars really make a difference? Geoff says it can: “I am 100 percent confident that the money involved is irrelevant. Most of the time, knowing that you are just reaching out to comfort people or just thinking about them is exactly what people need. Two dollars is enough to get that message across. You can make someone else’s day no matter how much money you have.”
Trying to make 100 people happy through service isn’t just something to inspire others; it has inspired Geoff as well. “It has opened my eyes to see how easy it can be to make a difference. It has made me less selfish. I have learned a lot about what daily service means and how it can help.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, standing at the pulpit. I had never seen Brother John at church before, let alone heard him bear his testimony. A month later he came to church and bore his testimony again.
It all started one Sunday morning in priesthood executive committee meeting. I was serving as the Young Men president. We had just read from the Church Handbook of Instructions, and the bishop was sitting quietly, pondering. Then he looked up and said, “I want our Aaronic Priesthood brethren to begin collecting fast offerings from less-active members.” He asked us to involve the teachers and priests.
I was surprised. In Cape Town, South Africa, most members live far from each other. It takes about 35 minutes to drive from one side of our ward to the other. The young men had never collected fast offerings before because they couldn’t walk to members’ homes—the distance was too great, and we were concerned about their safety.
As a committee we came up with a plan as we discussed how we might overcome these obstacles. The elders quorum agreed to assign brethren to take the young men to several homes on the Saturday before each fast Sunday. We split the ward into areas and assigned each companionship to visit a few active families and a few less-active families. We realized that our plan would be a good opportunity for the brethren to get to know the youth and for the youth to receive counsel from the elders.
When we presented the plan to the young men, they were eager to try it. We reminded them to wear Sunday clothes and that this was part of their sacred responsibility to watch over the ward.
I was assigned to take my younger brother, Andrew. The following Saturday we visited everyone on our list, but most people weren’t home. The last member we visited was Brother John, whom we didn’t know well.
Andrew got out of the car, knocked on the door, and waited. He was just about to return to the car when the door opened. Andrew shook Brother John’s hand and said, “Hello, my name is Andrew, and I’m from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Tomorrow is fast Sunday, and the bishop has asked us to visit members to receive any fast-offering donations they wish to make.”
He handed Brother John an envelope. Brother John was surprised, but he walked inside with the envelope. After a few minutes he emerged from the house with a smile. He politely thanked Andrew and handed the envelope to him. I got out of the car, and we all chatted for a while. As we were leaving, Brother John waved goodbye and said, “Make sure you come next month.” Andrew was excited all the way back to the chapel, where we turned in our envelopes to a member of the bishopric.
The next month we made sure to visit Brother John. Again, he was friendly. After a few months he began attending church on fast Sunday. Our Saturday visits reminded him of his Sunday meetings, and he would come the next day.
We were excited when Brother John became active in the Church. We felt a special bond with him. Words cannot express the joy that came to us because one soul had returned to the fold. Within a few months, he was attending regularly, and soon he was called to serve in the elders quorum presidency.
For us, the highlight of this experience came when Brother John was asked to speak in sacrament meeting about tithes and offerings. At the end of his talk he spoke about Andrew’s first visit.
With moistened eyes he said: “Andrew, you will never know the impact you had on my life that Saturday morning when you came to my door with that blue envelope. You may have thought it was a waste of time, but blessings came into my life because you provided me with an opportunity to pay my fast offering. Your service is one reason I am here today.”

Whenever I heard the words “missionary work,” I used to think of giving away a Book of Mormon. While I had previously given away copies of the Book of Mormon, none of the people I gave them to seemed interested. But I didn’t know that for the past year and a half, I have been a missionary just by being who I am and sticking to my standards.
It began on the first day of school one year. I had arrived at my first class early, and so I sat down at a desk in the middle of the classroom. A girl named Alicia* came in and sat in the far back. Since I was alone, I invited her to sit with me. She had just moved from Mexico over the summer, so she didn’t have any friends yet. I was glad we had most of our classes together. That’s how we became friends.
But our lives were very different. Alicia wore outfits that differed from my standards and used bad language. In her old school, she talked back to her teachers, and grades weren’t important to her. She had a bad family life and would sneak out and go to parties.
As we have become good friends, I have noticed a good change in her. She no longer wears inappropriate clothing. She is careful to not use bad language. She has improved her grades, even competing for the highest scores. Her family life is getting a lot better too. She never sneaks out anymore or goes to bad parties.
We talk about her changes and improvements. Alicia told me that one night her boyfriend came over and wanted her to break the law of chastity. She was about to give in when she saw in her mind a flashback of all the improvements she’s made and how proud she is of herself. She wasn’t willing to throw it all away. So she said no and broke up with him. That was the greatest thing for me to hear from her, and I am so proud of her.
Missionary work truly can occur by example as we live the gospel of Jesus Christ.