Gospel Story Finder

I have fond memories of the day of my baptism when I was eight years old. It was performed in the Liniers Branch, the first chapel of the Church built in South America. After my baptism, as I was returning home along with my family, my oldest brother started wrestling with me, as he often did. I exclaimed, “Do not touch me! I cannot sin!” As the days passed, I realized that it was not possible to remain sinless for the rest of my life.

My own mother helped strengthen her home and family in her youth. The oldest child in a less-active family, she was born with the gift of faith. She took herself to Primary and Mutual. She qualified for a temple marriage even before her parents were able to go. She became an agent for righteousness, a steadfast witness whose example helped strengthen her parents and siblings. You young women too can stand as a witness of God by nurturing a spirit of faith, love, peace, and testimony in your homes now, preparing you to do the same when you establish your own future homes. I am the product of a righteous young woman who stood “steadfast and immovable, always abounding in good works.”

Although seven-year-old Caylen Craven of Pawhuska, Oklahoma, has not ever had to go to war, he is a “stripling warrior” because he has learned how to be honest, too. One day while walking through the airport with his family, he saw a man in front of him accidently drop some money. Even though he is normally very shy around strangers, Caylen ran to pick up the money and return it to its owner.
Caylen’s mother wrote, “We were thankful that his first reaction was to do the right and honest thing, that he didn’t even think about keeping the dollar.”

After a recent stake conference meeting where I had discussed the role of the family in the Church, I was approached by a sweet woman who said: “Bishop, I’m a widow and I really appreciated everything you said today. I have a lovely family, but I have many problems and I do need help. My priesthood leaders have families of their own and they have lots of problems and I don’t want to bother them and add to their problems. So what should I do?”
I asked her, “Do you have a good home teacher who really cares about you?”
She said, “Yes, I have a home teacher and he comes by every month or so; but he isn’t very involved with our family.”
Then I asked, “Well, do you have a visiting teacher who visits you and understands you?”
She said, “Yes, the Relief Society sometimes comes.”
At this point, I was praying for a right answer, when a lovely sister, who was standing nearby and heard our conversation, said, “Excuse me, but I was a widow; and even though I have just remarried, I know how you feel and I understand your problems. Please let me drop by. I’d like to visit with you.”
Dr. Tom Dooley offers some interesting insights regarding those who have known difficulties and can now share the burden of another. I quote:
“One of Dr. (Albert) Schweitzer’s most important concepts is that of the Fellowship of Those who Bear the Mark of Pain. … Who are its members? Those who have learned by experience what physical pain and bodily anguish mean. These people, all over the world, are united by a secret bond. He who has been delivered from pain must not think he is now … at liberty to continue his life and forget his sickness. He is a man whose eyes are opened. He now has a duty to help others in their battles with pain and anguish. He must help to bring to others the deliverance which he himself knows.
“Under this Fellowship come not only those who were formerly sick, but those who are related to sufferers, and whom does this not include?” (Thomas Dooley, “A Worldwide Fellowship,” Words of Wisdom, ed. Thomas C. Jones, Chicago: J. B. Ferguson, 1966, p. 150.)

A few years ago, I went to one of those competitions in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. I was excited to compete against weightlifters from all over the country, but I was a little worried about being so far away from my family. To make it easier, my mom promised to text me scriptures and thoughtful messages every day.
The night before the competition, some kids threw a party. I thought it would be cool to go, so my roommate and I went to check it out. But right away I knew it wasn’t my kind of party. There were teenagers drinking, smoking, saying bad words, and dancing inappropriately. I knew I shouldn’t be there, but I was worried what my roommate might think. Or what the other competitors might think.
But then something popped into my head:
“Stand ye in holy places.”
It was from my favorite scripture, and one my mom had sent me that morning: Doctrine and Covenants 87:8: “Wherefore, stand ye in holy places, and be not moved, until the day of the Lord come; for behold, it cometh quickly, saith the Lord. Amen.”
I don’t know why my mom sent me that scripture that day, but it’s one I’ve loved my entire life. I’ve had it memorized since I was eight, and again and again it has reminded me to have courage, be obedient, and stand for what I believe in.
“Stand ye in holy places.”
“I’m gonna go,” I said to my roommate. I explained about the scripture my mom had sent me that morning. “This is not a place I should be standing.”
My roommate told me she didn’t want to be there, either. She was uncomfortable too but hadn’t wanted to leave by herself and be seen as a loser. She thanked me for saying something, and we left.
The next morning, we found out that soon after we left, the kids who were at the party were caught and eliminated from the competition for drinking and doing drugs.
If I hadn’t been prompted to remember my mom’s verse, I might’ve been disqualified from the competition too. I ended up winning first place, so I’m really grateful I got to compete. (I think I thank my mom every single day for texting me.)

A young woman I know felt saddened and frustrated because a friend had made unkind, untrue remarks about her. It distressed her that those who heard the false accusations would believe them. She wanted others to know the truth, and she wanted her friend to realize how much hurt her words had caused. The young woman thought of ways to confront her friend in an effort to have the truth known. The situation weighed heavily upon her until finally she thought, “What would Jesus do?” She decided that Jesus would show love toward her friend. And that is just what this young woman did.

Once she let the teachings of Jesus influence her decision and guide her actions, that which bothered her seemed not to matter. She didn’t have to worry about it anymore. She said that she felt a big burden was lifted from her. What had been hard to endure became easier to resolve when a Christian attitude of forgiveness was taken.

The Primary has played an important part in helping to bring many people into the Church in Puerto Rico. In 1964 a family moved to Ponce, Puerto Rico. Because there was no organized branch in this city, the family held services in their own home, including a Home Primary for the three children. Several other children started attending this Primary. Because they did, these children and also their parents were baptized. This was the beginning of a branch in Ponce.

When Todd Budge was a young boy, his parents taught him how to seek the Lord’s will. Throughout his life, he has tried to apply that practice in every decision.
Years later, after he and his wife had settled into a home with five children, he felt spiritual impressions to leave his career in banking and finance. The change would require significant sacrifice for him to become established in a new career.
After much effort and preparation to change careers, Elder Budge met someone uniquely qualified to give him advice. This individual suggested that Elder Budge stay with his banking career, reminding him that he would have many opportunities to counsel and help people. “We need people with integrity in business,” the person told him.
Elder Budge considered that encounter to be a tender mercy from the Lord. “I think He wanted to know where my heart was,” he says. “Once the Lord knew my heart, He did not require the sacrifice, and I trusted that He could use me for His purposes without a career change.”
His career did allow him to be an influence for good in the business world, even to open doors to share the gospel in Japan.

It brings President Shumway and myself great joy to visit our children and their families and find them having daily scripture study together as we did with them growing up. A few months ago our daughter, Heather, backed their van into a parked police car. She was pregnant with her 4th child, and her husband, Morgan, was under great pressure that week finishing his master's degree.

When Morgan came home that evening, Heather burst into uncontrollable sobbing as she related the trauma. Instantly, their rolly polly two-year old toddled over to the shelf, picked up a Book of Mormon and took it straight to his mother's lap, earnestly looking up at her face. Isn't it wonderful that even a baby can sense the power of the Book of Mormon to help solve problems in our lives.

Last year, I played in a volleyball tournament. Like most of my teammates, I was nervous. When I began to play, our team had already lost the first two games. We were discouraged. Then people watching the game said some unkind words, and we felt even worse. We lost.

When my mother asked me how it went, I started to cry. I was so disappointed. I went to my room, where it was nice and quiet, and said a prayer. After I prayed, I felt calmer and more peaceful in my heart. I knew the Holy Ghost had comforted me and that He would always help me. With another tournament coming this year, I know He will be with me as I play.

Following an impression once saved my life. It was dark, I was alone, and I was high in the mountains several miles from the nearest road. Though I had never been on this particular mountainside, I was not lost. I knew the general location, and I knew that all I had to do was keep walking down and eventually this would lead me to a familiar road. The problem was the pitch darkness of the moonless night.
I chose a gully and started to feel my way down through the brush and deadfall. It was slow going, so I was relieved when the gully flattened out to a sandy bottom beneath my feet. I picked up my pace for about 10 steps and suddenly had a strong impression to stop. I did. Reaching down, I took a rock and tossed it out into the darkness ahead of me. I heard no sound for a few seconds, and then there was a clatter on the rocks a long distance away. I knew immediately that I was standing on the lip of a sheer drop-off.
I retraced my steps and eventually got down the mountain by another gully. I phoned my worried family close to midnight, just before they called for a search party. The next day I revisited that spot in daylight and saw my tracks, which stopped just two or three feet from a drop-off of at least 50 feet. I was glad I had heard and heeded a warning. Where did that lead? It saved my life.

Let me illustrate the theme of borders with a true tale from one of my study abroad programs as a director. We were in Venice, Italy, having taken a very small ferryboat from our bus terminal to a dock across the Grand Canal. The appointed time to leave was approaching, and all but a handful of my BYU students were aboard. The Italian boat captain revved his engine, signaling departure. His English was poor and my Italian was worse, but somehow we communicated that he wanted the boat to leave and I wanted the boat to stay for the missing students. His next load of passengers was waiting on the other side. To emphasize my negotiating position, I placed one foot on the dock with the other foot on the boat—not too smart. To emphasize his rather superior negotiating position, the captain slowly began pulling away from the dock, with me about to fall into the water.

I will tell you what happened later, but, for now, that experience illustrates how impossible it is to have one foot on the Lord’s side and one on the adversary’s side—and the gap is getting wider and wider. What is at stake for you is more than a refreshing dip in the Grand Canal of Venice and a soggy wallet. What is at stake is your very soul.

Therefore, do not ever let your passport to the Lord’s country and kingdom lapse. If you do, you will find yourself outside its borders, or at least trying to straddle them. Which means I need to finish my story about the Venice boat dock. The distance between my one foot on the dock and my other foot on the boat slowly became wider and wider. It was clear that the boat captain was not going to hold the boat for my students, and I was not going to leave without them. While my dear wife and students on the boat were screaming as my legs continued to spread and my blood pressure went up, I thought to myself that this was like something out of a Marx Brothers or Charlie Chaplin movie (or now it would be a great YouTube video), with everyone watching me plop into the drink. But no, breaking the stalemate came the sounds of my rescue thundering down the alleyway, and the remaining students scrambled over the dock and jumped a few ever-widening feet onto the boat. The boat captain and I are not exactly on each other’s Christmas card lists, but I did get all the students on board and he made it back to pick up more passengers.

One warm summer afternoon a tiny girl reached on tiptoes to ring a doorbell. After a moment the door swung wide and there stood a beautiful twenty-year-old princess with golden hair and large, expressive blue eyes. To a small child she might have been Cinderella. But this princess was taller, more regal than any pictures of the cinder girl. And she was as real as her name—Sally Peterson.
“Elizabeth!” Sally smiled down at her little visitor. “How wonderful to see you! Come in! Come in!”
“I just brought you this,” the little girl beamed, as she thrust forward a letter, then turned happily and walked down the stairs murmuring, “Now that wasn’t one bit scary.”
It wasn’t scary. And it shouldn’t have been. Sally was her special friend. As Junior Sunday School chorister, Sally had taught songs to Elizabeth and many others like her over a period of five years. But now she wasn’t “Sally our song-leader”; she was Miss Utah of 1972. And one small girl expressed the feelings of many:
Dear Sally
I love you
Love
From Elizabeth
Sometime later while interviewing Sally for a local newspaper, I asked her to tell me about any special “happenings” since she became Miss Utah. Sally told me of Elizabeth and of other children who had come to see her.
“I love them,” she said warmly. “In fact, teaching them to sing is my first love. No one can know what I’ve learned from those children. Such eyes! Such voices! It’s a kind of musical experience that can’t be explained—only felt.”
Sally has shared other musical experiences with many who, like Elizabeth, have loved her. When she was seven, she sat with her mother at the piano and received her first formal lesson. Later she became a student of concert pianist Gladys Gladstone. When she was eleven, she was guest soloist with the Utah Symphony Orchestra and has since appeared with them on three other occasions. She has been first-place winner in the Utah State Fair music competition, was awarded the Salt Lake Chamber of Commerce trophy, “Musician of Great Promise,” and in 1969 was named “Outstanding Teenager in the State of Utah.” Sally was also honored in Washington, D.C., where as a Girls Nation representative, she played at the vesper assembly; in St. Louis, Missouri, where she won the National Stillman-Kelly award; in Santa Barbara, California, where she enjoyed a summer scholarship to the Music Academy, studied with Jerome Lowenthall, and won the concerto audition and an opportunity to play with the Festival Symphony Orchestra. Again last January in Midland, Texas, “that Mormon girl from Utah” was honored when she won the National Young Artists Piano Competition.
In September Sally represented Utah in the Miss America Pageant in Atlantic City, New Jersey, where she performed with orchestra Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 1.
“I have always tried to practice on the piano three hours a day,” says Sally, then adds, eyes twinkling, “I know that seems like a long time to some, but that still leaves 21 hours in each day in which to do something else.”
Sally also water skis, swims, snow skis, rides horses, and plays paddle ball. She is a model, a seamstress, and an amateur painter and photographer. A senior at the University of Utah, she is an honor student and a member of several local and national collegiate organizations. Says Sally, “I’ve noticed that some people feel that the world is a sad and ugly place. Others whose examples I’ve tried to follow discover in it so much joy and beauty that it’s hard to find time for it all.”
In May, prior to her entering the Miss Utah Pageant contest, Sally found time to enjoy a two-week foreign language tour in Mexico.
There an older Mexican friend, charmed by the stunning blonde with an Acapulco tan, exclaimed, “You seem so happy all of the time. How can I be as happy as you?” Sally answered him without hesitation, “I am happy because I know that I am a daughter of God. And you are my brother. You can be happy too if you will become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Wherever she went in Mexico, Sally looked for a piano. At one place she received permission to use one that was surrounded by local Mexicans. She played for them. Later Sally reminisced, “Although we spoke a different language, they heard just as I heard. They loved the music just as I loved it. We were really communicating. That’s what is meant by music being a universal language.”
“Sometimes when I’m playing the piano,” Sally said softly, “I feel closer to the Lord than at any other time. I feel literally lifted up, inspired. Oh, everyone should develop a talent! Once I heard a girl complain, ‘But that takes eight or ten years. I’ll be 32 by then!’ True. It may take ten years. And she would be 32 by then. But she could still enjoy 40 or more years of sharing her talents with others. If she decides not to develop her talents, she will not have the blessing. And in ten years she will be 32 anyway.”
Three days after Sally arrived home from Mexico, she was crowned Miss Utah. A short time later a special letter for Sally came in the mail. It was one she had written to herself several weeks before as part of an assignment in an M Men and Gleaner class.
“Write something which will help you later in your life,” the teacher said. “And then, when the time is right, I’ll mail you your letter.” Appropriately, the letter came:
Hi Sally …
By the time you receive this letter, you will have been to Mexico and probably will have made some important decisions.
Just remember, the Lord loves you and he has a very special responsibility for you in the near future. Strive each and every day to draw close unto him and to let him guide and influence your life.
You have a very special talent that you should work at diligently. If you do, you will bring joy and happiness to those around you and will please the Lord.
Always keep your ideals high and be the kind of girl that a wonderful young Latter-day Saint man will love and cherish as his wife.
Honor your parents, and though there may be problems sometimes, remember to love and understand them and to be as patient and tolerant as you would want them to be with you.
People are aware of your example. Remember always to walk in the ways of the Lord and he will bless you beyond measure. You will have many opportunities to be in the public eye, so do nothing that would be contrary to Christ’s example.
Work hard. Use discipline. Have courage, faith, and pray always.
As you love yourself, you will love others.
Smile,
Sally
“Sally,” I exclaimed when she shared the letter with me, “you were positively prophetic when you wrote that!”
“Not really,” she replied thoughtfully. “It is the kind of letter any young Latter-day Saint person could have written to himself.
“Every one of us has important decisions to make,” she continued, “little decisions like whether to attend a bull fight or a Sabbath day meeting and larger ones like whether or not to attend college, go on a mission, marry in the temple—the list goes on …
“Each of us has special responsibilities, talents—and parents to love and to honor.
“Others look to our example. Each of us is ‘that Mormon girl or boy’ from someplace or other. Wherever we go, we represent ourselves, our parents, and the Lord.
“And each one is preparing himself (or herself) to be the eternal companion of someone special who is also preparing. Then when both are ready, we will find one another.
“But for right now, each of us has 24 hours every day in which to work, pray, practice discipline, and cause the wonderful experiences of life to happen.”
At the close of the Miss America Pageant in Atlantic City, New Jersey, Sally Peterson was named Miss Congeniality, a title valued second only to that of Miss America.
The Award was made after the 50 contestants had voted to select the girl who, throughout the exciting and sometimes exhausting week, had been most friendly, appreciative, genuine, cheerful. It is an honor which recognizes inward as well as outward beauty.
As Miss Congeniality, Sally received a $1,000 scholarship. She also won a $1,000 Grand Music Award for her performance with orchestra of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 1.

When I was 16 years old, I had been attending church regularly for almost a year, but I was not a member of the Church yet. I really enjoyed going with my friends. However, my parents did not have kind feelings toward the Church or my attendance. This fear that I would join the Church led my family to decide that moving across the country from Arizona to North Carolina would be best. I was really upset, and I did not want to leave, but I had little choice in the matter.
On my last Sunday in Arizona the leaders knew that I was leaving and decided to have a testimony meeting just for us boys. It was amazing for me to hear the testimonies of my closest friends and others in this meeting. I could feel the Spirit so strongly I could almost touch it. As the boys took their turns bearing their testimony, I could not stop myself from standing.
I bore a simple but heartfelt testimony that I knew the Church was true and that Jesus is my Savior. I had never borne my testimony before, but as the words came out of my mouth, I realized how much I knew they were true. As 16-year-old youth, it was hard for any of us to show our feelings, but I know that I was not the only one a little choked up. I felt so good, and it was a feeling of eternal joy. I was home. It was at that meeting that I knew that I would join myself with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My whole conversion process can point to this one moment as the turning point.
I am so glad I had this lesson, because despite all my prayers, my family and I moved to North Carolina. I had hope, for I knew that just because I was moving away from my friends, I was not moving away from the Lord. The simple testimony I had gained carried me through my time in North Carolina, even though I was no longer allowed to attend church during our time there. When my family moved back, my parents’ hearts were softened a little, and I was allowed to attend Church meetings again. On my 18th birthday, I was baptized, thanks in part to a lesson on testimony.

I want to thank each of you—the translators and all those who help publish the Liahona. It is because of you that I have the blessing of holding the words of our prophets and the General Authorities in my hands.
I was baptized as a child but was lost to the Church for a long time. When I heard Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (in October 2004 general conference), he helped me believe that the Savior made it possible for me to be redeemed from my sins. I have experienced that change of heart spoken of by Alma, and my joy is complete.Araceli Arroyo Romero, Mexico

The train hurried on, and the cadence of the wheels on the tracks repeated: “Not expected of you, not expected of you,” with the emphasis on you.
I was very unhappy. I did not notice the sun nor the other ten girls who were having fun and singing songs as we returned to our homes in the Netherlands from our week’s vacation in the woods. Fifteen minutes earlier I had been one of these girls. But now I felt so ashamed! Never, no never, would I do something like that again, even if everybody else did it! I felt shut out and lonely, as though I had nothing in common with the rest of the group.
All the girls had been disobedient. But even though I was the youngest of them, I was the only one who had been scolded. My friend Trees was already 14, Ans was 13, and I was 11. I wanted to blame Trees for everything—she was the one who betrayed me. But in my heart, I knew it was my own fault because I had been disobedient.
* * * * *
Nothing really serious had happened. When we arrived at our vacation spot a week earlier, we received instructions as to what we were allowed to do and what we were not allowed to do while we were there. We could go into the village to buy postcards to send home, but we were not supposed to buy any candy while there.
That’s where the trouble started.
It was incredible to see all the different kinds of candy sold in the village store. We were all too weak to resist. It must have seemed suspicious how often we had to go and buy a postcard in the village after dinner, but after a long, tiring day, the teachers were happy to let us go. And so our money disappeared into the store’s register, and the chocolate and other candies disappeared into our stomachs.
At first I heard a little voice telling me that I was not supposed to do that. But nobody else seemed to have a problem with it, and it was important to me to be accepted in the group, especially since I was the youngest. And so, on the day we were to go home, I had not a penny left.
On the way to the train, we all bragged about how much money we had received for the trip from our aunts and uncles. Then the teachers asked if we had any money left—they had realized that not all that money could have gone to buy postcards. We were found out.
I don’t know why one of the teachers singled me out and asked me personally what I had done with my money. Before I could answer, Trees answered for me, saying that I had spent it all on candy.
I’m sure the teacher would have guessed the truth, since my face turned all red. The only excuse I had was that everybody had broken the rules. And then came these words from the teacher: “But I would not have expected it of you.” It wasn’t even her words that made me so unhappy. It was the disappointment I heard in her voice.
* * * * *
In a corner of the train, I promised myself that from then on I would always listen to the still, small voice in my heart and not be led by other people to do things that are wrong. It was a lesson I would always remember.
The train hurried on, the wheels still repeating, “Not expected of you, not expected of you, not expected of you.”

Car horns blared and taxis and buses jostled for a place in the traffic. As Benjamin Misalucha sat in the marketplace watching the automobiles roll by, he reached for a handkerchief and mopped his brow. He hoped his wife would be done with the shopping soon. The weather was hot and muggy, as it often is in the Philippines, and he was eager to get home and relax with his children.

Then he noticed a sign, high on the side of one of the buildings overlooking the square. “No other success can compensate for failure in the home,” the sign read. He found himself contemplating the message and believing in its truth.

“During those times I was young, about 30, and had four children. We had everything, comparatively speaking, compared to other Filipinos, but I was not satisfied with my life. In my heart I knew I was searching for something more,” he said.

He didn’t guess that the quotation from President David O. McKay had been inscribed on the sign by missionaries living in the building, the same kind of Mormon missionaries who had already visited with him for three weeks when he lived in Manila, the capital city. He had also been visited twice by the elders here in Davao, another large city in the south.

A short time later, Benjamin Misalucha was transferred by his pharmaceutical company to Cebu City, an important community on one of the central islands. It was in Cebu that Mr. Misalucha and his family would discover the secret of what had been lacking in their lives.

The Misaluchas were excited about their new home. Cebu and the region surrounding it are important in the history of the Philippines. It was here that Ferdinand Magellan, who sought to circumnavigate the earth, first introduced Christianity to the islands. What is reputed to be Magellan’s wooden cross still stands in the city plaza. From 1565 to 1571, Cebu was the Spanish colonial capital, and Cebuanos later played key roles in the fight for independence from Spain. During World War II, in reprisal for guerilla action, Cebu City proper was almost entirely razed. But the port remained intact and the city was rebuilt. Today Cebu remains an inter-island trade and domestic airline center. Its citizens are a conglomeration of farmers, factory workers, and businessmen. The Misaluchas soon discovered that, like Filipinos everywhere, the people of Cebu are quick to smile and just as quick to lend a helping hand.

“Filipinos are basically close,” Benjamin’s wife, Avelina, explained. “We maintain close family ties, and ties with other Filipinos as well. We share experiences, even material things.”

In a society in which sharing is so accepted, it might seem unusual that someone would stand out as being particularly kind and generous. But such was the case with the local Parent Teacher Association (PTA) president. Right from the start she went out of her way to help the Misaluchas adjust to their new city. Soon Mr. Misalucha was serving on the PTA board. He eventually found out that the PTA president was also the wife of the local Mormon bishop. His curiosity grew and grew.

“One day I saw both of them walking home, and I ran over to catch up with them,” Mr. Misalucha explained. “I told him I wanted to know more about his church. He said he could recommend a couple of nice young men who could teach me about it.”

For the next ten months, the elders became a regular fixture in the Misalucha home. Benjamin Misalucha would entertain them with stories about previous encounters with missionaries, before he fully understood who they were: “They knocked on my door and asked me if I was the head of the house. I was all hot and perspiring from doing some chores, so I told them, ‘No, I’m just the janitor here.’ It’s something I say jokingly to my family all the time, but the missionaries believed me!”

Avelina would always provide cold water or juice, cake, or even siopao (doughy, white, steamed Chinese bread stuffed with sausage and eggs). And of course, the children, who numbered five by now, would have fun teasing the missionaries and telling jokes before the serious gospel discussions began.

“I wanted answers from the Bible,” Benjamin said, “because I didn’t believe in the Book of Mormon yet. And they showed me answers in the Bible. I was totally perplexed by how they could always get answers to questions I couldn’t even answer myself.” Slowly his perplexed state gave way to understanding. The missionaries could find the answers because they knew the truth. He summoned a family council.

“Take this individually into prayer,” he told his wife and children. At the next family council, they all voted in favor of becoming Latter-day Saints. The family was baptized on April 29, 1978, a Saturday.

“Ever since we’ve been members, we’ve been blessed,” Brother Misalucha said. He began working for an insurance company, and his business has grown steadily, “in spite of the fact that some of my friends were hostile. They told me I’d return to my former church within two years. But I had found the true church, Christ’s church. Our family bonds were stronger. The children were becoming more pronounced in developing their skills, learning to speak in public and overcoming their shyness. I knew I was following the Lord’s way.”

I was serving as a mission president in Taipei when Preach My Gospel was introduced to the Church. Chapter 6 of that inspired guide teaches Christlike attributes and invites missionaries to set goals for personal improvement. Our family decided to join with the missionaries in setting goals. Each week, the person teaching Family Home Evening would select a Christlike attribute on which to work the next week. Our smaller kids would choose quite practical traits such as smile, hug, or be happy while the older children would choose a more advanced characteristic like faith or patience. In the following days we would remind one another if behavior slipped below our goal. Over time, our home became filled with a greater portion of the Spirit.

Yet, as President Uchtdorf indicated, personal improvement in developing Christlike attributes is not always easy, as illustrated by our family's experience one week. My wife and I were busy one evening and asked the office elders to pick up our 11-year old daughter and 9-year old son from school. On the ride home, the kids began teasing one another and quarreling in the back seat. Finally, our daughter Lizzi tried to be the peacemaker and said, "Ben, do you remember the Christlike attribute this week?" After a moment, Ben replied, "Yeah, it's love at home – but we're in the car!"

How blessed we are to have the gift of repentance. Remember, looking in to our own soul and improving is the work of a lifetime. The resurrected Christ taught the Nephites, "Behold, I am the law, and the light. Look unto me, and endure to the end, and ye shall live; for unto him that endureth to the end will I give eternal life" (3 Nephi 15:9).

Crocodiles, sharks, and sea snakes may seem to be strange things to mention as memories from childhood. But when Domingos Liao was growing up in Darwin, Australia, they were an everyday part of his life.
Domingos and his friends would ride their bikes to the mouth of Rapid Creek, where fresh water and sea water mix.
While wading across, dodging jellyfish adrift in the current, they would watch for sharks that had wandered in from the sea, crocodiles buried in the mud, poisonous sea snakes, and stonefish with their venomous spikes. Despite the perils, they crossed the river again and again, lured by what they knew was on the other side.
“It was a land of promise,” Domingos remembers. “We could catch buckets of fish. The beaches were untouched and clean. There were green fields where nobody had been before.”
Today a bridge crosses the river. The open spaces have become a park, crisscrossed with jogging paths and frequented by university students. Still, Domingos likes to visit the river, to remember and to think.
His young life is full of memories. They begin on the island of Timor, several hundred miles north of Australia. His Chinese parents were working in the Portuguese colony there (Domingos is a Portuguese name) when it was invaded by Indonesia. The men fled to Portugal. Women and children escaped to Australia. “My mother, myself, and some other relatives came on one of two boats that got away,” Domingos explains. “We were lucky to survive.”
Domingos’s father later joined them in Darwin. Thanks to hard work, the family prospered. Two more boys were born. Domingos learned English. He discovered sports—cricket, karate, tennis, soccer, handball, volleyball. He excelled in school, in music, and in art. He worked in his uncle’s restaurant.
One day his aunt, a newly baptized Latter-day Saint, introduced his family to the missionaries. Soon the Liaos family joined the Church. “We were active for about a year,” Domingos says. “Then my parents stopped going. I kept on for a while; then I started to play cricket on Sundays. But my conscience kept nagging me that I should be in church.”
It was at this time that Domingos’s grandfather, who lived in Melbourne, suffered a stroke. He wasn’t expected to live. Domingos, 16, felt compelled to pray. “I told Heavenly Father that if he would give Grandfather a chance, I would devote my life to the Church. But I didn’t just wait for him to recover. When we returned home, I returned to church. I’ve been taught that if you promise something, you should do it.”
Grandpa did get better. And by the time he did, Domingos was going to church, not just to keep a promise, but because he truly believed it was the right thing to do.
By the time Domingos turned 18, his Church activity began to irritate his father.
“Dad thought seminary was getting in the way of my schoolwork, so he banned me from getting up early to go. I wanted to honor him, so I quit going. But I still did seminary at home. Then he didn’t want that either, so I put that away.
“Then he would find me reading my scriptures and think I hadn’t done my homework, even though my grades were good. One time he grabbed my scriptures and threw them in the rubbish bin. I had spent the last two years reading them and marking them, and they are really precious to me. The next morning I was able to get them back, but I had to give them to the branch president for safekeeping.”
It wasn’t long before Domingos’s father banned him from everything related to Church activity—scripture study, Mutual activities, home teaching, and, finally, Sunday meetings.
“Even though I was 18 and legally my own person, my first reaction was to obey. Really. You want to obey your father because he is your father. But I knew I couldn’t break my promise to Heavenly Father to attend church.
“Dad said if I went that Sunday, not to worry about coming back. So I packed my bags. My prayers were very sincere that night. The next morning, when he saw me dressed up, he was furious.”
Domingos left, but his parents came to the chapel and found him. They reached an agreement that he could attend every other Sunday. “I wasn’t happy with it, but it was better than nothing,” he says.
The next time he got ready for church, his father again told him that if he went, he could never return. “The second time was just as bad, probably worse. I’d been waiting to receive my patriarchal blessing, and the patriarch, who can come only about once a year, had come from far away. I got there for the appointment, but my father came at the same time. I had to go home and missed my blessing.”
The third time that his father confronted him in a similar way, Domingos left home and moved in with his grandmother. “Eventually my mum came and said my father was all right and wouldn’t get angry again. So I came back.”
While at his grandmother’s home, Domingos had developed a desire to serve a full-time mission. “I prayed, and the answer was very certain that I should go when I turned 19. From then on, my mind was made up—I just needed to prepare.”
He found that if he completed his first year of study, the University of the Northern Territory would agree to give him two years off to serve. But he would have to carry an even harder class load for a few months before he left. “My coordinator actually encouraged me and said the mission would be a good experience,” Domingos says. Domingos continued something he had done since high school—telling fellow students about the steps of repentance and the plan of salvation.
He intensified his scripture study, memorizing many passages. “The scriptures brought me peace,” he says. “They reminded me of the things I should be doing.”
He joined the full-time missionaries when they gave discussions. He often bore his testimony. He kept a journal, writing in it every day. His Church leaders interviewed him, found him worthy, and sent in his missionary application.
Then one day, this time when he returned from church, his father ordered him out of the house for the fourth time. “It was pretty final,” Domingos says. “He was not pleased with my plans for a mission. He said if I went, I wouldn’t be his son anymore.”
Domingos’s branch president, Michael Kuhn, invited him to live in his home until the mission call arrived.
Finished with his schoolwork, Domingos filled his days with prayer, uplifting music, Church activities, missionary work, and scripture study. Sometimes he would read the scriptures all day long.
And then the letter came: “You are called to labor in the Hong Kong Mission.” Domingos returned home for a short time to try to make peace with his family before he left. “Mainly because they knew they could not change my mind, they yielded,” he says. Before he left, the family went out to dinner together and took lots of farewell photos.
Letters written from the Missionary Training Center and from the mission field reflect the joy that quickly followed:
—“At the airport I was able to meet one of the missionaries who taught me, Elder (Hoyt) Skabelund, and his wife and baby and parents. I am slowly learning Cantonese. The people in the MTC are wonderful.”
—“I’ve received two letters from my mother. Everything is going well at home. They are being blessed greatly, and they know it! My family and relatives are now happy that I am serving a mission. Surely God is a God of miracles!”
—“I have done my first street display, talking to everyone who goes by. I have taught the six discussions in Cantonese.”
—“Now I have been transferred to Macau, a Portuguese colony neighbouring the coast of China. I am pretty lucky because not many missionaries get to serve here. We are teaching an investigator, and he will be baptized. I know that God called me here to do a special work.”
—“Every inconvenience was worth overcoming to read the Book of Mormon. Every insult was worth swallowing to keep the Sabbath holy. Every moment was worth waiting for to kneel in private prayer, every pain worth enduring to attend church. Every blow was worth taking, every torment worth suffering, every tear worth shedding to come on this mission.”
Today in Macau, Elder Liao looks out the window of his missionary apartment and sees a promised land.
“When I decided to go on a mission,” he says, “I knew there would be strong currents against me. I didn’t really know the dangers lurking in the water, what might try to sting me or to swallow me up. I was thinking only about making it. Now here I am, and I know that it’s worth it.”
And he is eager to build a bridge to help others, including his family, to cross over to the other side.

“We have a surprise visitor for breakfast today,” Father said one morning. “Can anyone guess who it is?”
Lindy wiped the milk from her face and put her glass down. Mother and Father were sitting in their usual places, and her brother, Mike, was across the table eating a piece of toast.
“I don’t see anyone here but us,” Lindy said. “Is someone at the door?”
“No, no one is at the door,” Father answered. “Guess again.”
“Did someone come last night after we went to sleep? Is someone waiting upstairs to surprise us?” Mike asked.
“No, no one came after you went to sleep last night, and there isn’t anyone upstairs to surprise you. This visitor is here with us right now.”
Mike leaned back and looked under the table. “There’s no one under the table,” he said with a smile on his face.
Lindy looked all around. “I still don’t see anyone anywhere,” she said.
“We can’t see this visitor,” Father said. “We have to listen for him.”
The house was quiet as they all sat still and listened.
Once again they were all quiet while Lindy listened and listened. She couldn’t hear a visitor.
She shut her eyes tightly and listened again. “I still don’t hear anyone,” she said.
“Let’s give Lindy a hint,” Mother suggested. “Our visitor sounds like teedily, teedily, teedily, tee to me.”
“He sounds like wheedly, wheedly, wheedly, whee to me,” Father said.
“I hear him!” Mike suddenly said. “I hear him now.”
Father smiled. “Now let’s see if Lindy can hear him.”
“He sounds like chirpity, chirpity, chirpity, chirp to me,” Mike laughed.
Lindy listened once more. Then she smiled. “Now I hear our visitor,” she said. “It’s a bird and it’s come with a beautiful song.”
“Yes, Lindy,” Father replied. “A special bird called a wren has come to visit us at breakfast today.”
“I hope it comes again tomorrow,” Lindy said. “I think it’s a happy teedily, wheedly, chirpity visitor!”