Gospel Story Finder

Hi! My name is Blessy!
I live in India with my family. I got to plan a special Christmas activity for my school and share the gospel with my friends!
Young Missionaries
My Primary leaders teach that we should be missionaries. Sometimes I invite my friends to church. Most of the time, they say no. I thought that maybe I was too young to be a missionary.
A Family Challenge
Then, at family home evening, Dad challenged our family to invite one person to church every month. I wanted to do it, but it was tough! I asked Dad for help. He said I could pray. So I did.
The Idea
The next day at school, the principal asked for ideas for a school Christmas activity. I had a great idea! I told her that all the Primary-age kids could come visit my church. She called my parents, and they talked to the bishop to plan the activity. Our Primary leaders and the missionaries helped too.
An Exciting Day
Soon the day arrived. I felt nervous and excited at the same time. When Dad took me to school, I saw everyone was there and ready to go. Almost 500 students and teachers came!
Together at Church
At the church we watched a video about Jesus Christ’s birth. The young adults and missionaries sang Christmas songs. The bishop and my dad gave talks about how Jesus loves children and about loving one another. I gave a talk about Christmas. Everyone had a great time! My principal and my teacher even asked the missionaries questions.

Early in his career, Elder Tenorio was approached about a position as manager of the Church’s Genealogical Service Center in Mexico. Doing well in his job in the publishing industry, he was not sure about taking the new position. But following a series of inspired events, he realized it was a job he was supposed to take.

“It changed my life’s course,” he says. It led to a life intertwined with family history and temple work.

After seven years in that job, during which time he served as stake president, he was called as the first recorder for the Mexico City Mexico Temple and as a sealer. He left the temple to preside over the Mexico Tuxtla Gutierrez Mission. He later managed the area’s Membership, Materials Management, and Welfare Services Departments, during which time he served as regional representative and later as Area Seventy.

Elder Tenorio later became the Mexico City Mexico Temple recorder again after his replacement retired.

My family and I saved our money during the COVID-19 pandemic and in December 2023, we were able to travel to Utah to visit our daughter and the many temples available there. After five years of not being able to do work for our ancestors, we had prepared 65 names to take to the temple during our stay.
It was a challenge to line up appointments for all the temple work we had planned for Utah. We were desperate to help our ancestors, and as our return date approached, our incredible adventure began—we secured four baptism sessions in four different temples on the same day.
We entered the baptistry at the Provo Utah Temple early in the morning, and I begged Heavenly Father to provide a miracle for the work we needed to do. I had faith that He would also want to see my ancestors baptized.
The patrons at the baptismal font were moving slower than usual that morning, but I explained our situation to a sister working in the temple, and she invited other willing patrons to help perform the work with us.
It was an incredible and emotional experience to witness all 65 ancestors baptized by proxy, one by one, after the significant effort we had made to find them! We were so grateful for this first miracle. The Spirit was strong, and we could feel the relief, gratitude and happiness from those 65 precious souls.

When Jasmine was finally able to communicate with her daughter, she realized there was good reason to worry about her. As the hurricane approached the island, the daughter and others gathered in a building to be sheltered from the fierce winds and rain. As the building started to flood, they ran to another shelter. As they settled, the storm shattered the windows, cutting the individuals with the flying glass. As they continued to find refuge elsewhere, they found another room only to have the roof fly off. The only building left was a generator room, 4 ft x 4 ft in size, where 19 individuals, along with the generators and machines, packed themselves on top of one another for about five hours as they waited for the storm to pass. They were all wet from the rain and cut from the shattered windows, and everyone thought they would not make it out alive.
After the main force of the hurricane passed, they spent the night in the open, surrounded by water but so grateful to be alive. A boat rescued them and brought them to safety the next day.

Brian R.

Twelve-year-old Brian R. of Arizona, USA, was preparing to pass the sacrament for the first time. He didn’t want to make a mistake, so he asked the other Aaronic Priesthood holders in his ward to explain things to him.

“They were great,” he says. “They told me where to stand, where to go, and how to pass the trays.”

But even more important, they reminded him to be reverent. “We need to remember the Savior as we pass the sacrament,” Brian says. “If we are reverent, it helps others to remember Him too.”

Brian learned that others are happy to help him to understand his duties and to learn to do them well. “Just ask,” he says. “Moving from Primary into the Aaronic Priesthood is easier than you think.”

When Mother told me her Aunt Grace was coming for a visit, I groaned. “Not again!” I complained, remembering her visit last year.
“Be nice, William,” Mother said. “Once a year isn’t very often.”
“It’s too often for me!” I declared.
Aunt Grace has orange hair and headaches. All she ever says to me is, “William, must you make so much noise?”
“William,” Mother warned, “I want you to behave yourself when she comes.”
I promised to behave myself.
When Aunt Grace came, I went to the door to meet her. My dog, Stubby, went with me. He growled at Aunt Grace because I hadn’t had him very long, and he didn’t know who she was.
Aunt Grace took a step backward. She looked as if she might turn around and go home.
“Oh, dear!” she cried. “Does that beast bite?”
I nodded my head. Stubby isn’t very big, but he sounds mean. For just a moment I thought I’d let her think that he bites people. Then I decided I’d better tell the truth. “Don’t worry,” I told her. “He only bites cats. Stubby hates cats.”
Aunt Grace looked huffy. “Well, he shouldn’t bite cats!”
I remembered then that Aunt Grace had a cat, and I wondered what I should say next. This visit wasn’t getting off to a very good start. But I didn’t have to say anything because just then Mother came hurrying to the door. “Come in, Aunt Grace, come in,” she said. “We’re so glad to see you.” She leaned close to me and whispered, “Take Stubby into the kitchen right now!”
She acted as if I had let him growl at Aunt Grace on purpose. I wondered if I had.
I took Stubby into the kitchen and shut the door so he would stay there. When I went into the living room, Aunt Grace had calmed down. She looked at Mother and said, “My, my, Lucille, it looks as though we’re getting a few gray hairs, doesn’t it?”
What she meant was that Mother was getting a few gray hairs. Aunt Grace patted her own thick orange hair so we would notice that she didn’t have any gray hairs.
For a moment Mother looked as if she would like to growl like Stubby. But she smiled instead. “Let’s put your suitcase in the bedroom. Then we’ll sit down and talk.”
I followed them into the bedroom, then back to the living room where we all sat down. I behaved myself.
“How are you, Aunt Grace?” Mother asked.
“Well, my head still aches a lot.”
“That’s too bad,” Mother said. “What does the doctor say about it?”
Stubby began yelping in the kitchen. He didn’t like to be shut up there alone.
“Oh, my!” Aunt Grace exclaimed. “Does that dog have to make so much noise?”
“Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “I’ll go see what’s the matter with him.” I didn’t want to hear what the doctor said about Aunt Grace’s headaches anyway.
When I got to the kitchen, Stubby was at the back door, barking furiously. Outside, the neighbor’s big orange cat was sniffing around our garbage can. Sometimes he tips it over. I wanted to get that cat away from it, so I opened the door. “Get him, Stubby!” I commanded.
Stubby shot out after the cat. The only trouble was, the cat ran right through the open door and into our house, with Stubby right behind him. The cat streaked into the living room and dived under the sofa where Aunt Grace was sitting.
“What was that?” Aunt Grace shouted. She leaned over to see what had run past her feet. Poor Stubby was confused because her hair was about the same color as the cat’s fur. He snapped his jaws shut, and Aunt Grace’s hair came right off her head!
Stubby thought he had the cat in his teeth, and he didn’t know what to do with it. When the “cat” in his mouth didn’t move, he dropped it, backed off a few steps, and started barking at it.
Mother leaped to her feet, looking as though she might faint.
“Did Stubby scalp Aunt Grace?” I whispered.
Aunt Grace really did look scalped—but not completely. Her head was covered with very short gray hair. She tried to shrink her head down into the neck of her dress, like a turtle.
That beautiful orange hair she was so proud of was a wig!
Suddenly I was ashamed of myself. I think I’d hoped the cat would run into the house when I opened the door. I guess I’d wanted to scare Aunt Grace. Instead I’d embarrassed her. Without her wig on, she looked kind of shrunken and wrinkled and old.
I ran over to where Stubby was barking at the wig. “I’m sorry, Aunt Grace. I’ll get it for you.” I picked up the wig, but when I did, Stubby grabbed it again. He sank his teeth into it and pulled. He growled when I tried to yank it away from him. Then he shook his head from side to side.
“Oh, my!” Mother agonized.
Now she really did look as though she might faint. I didn’t dare look at Aunt Grace again. Then all of a sudden, I heard her laughing. It really caught me off guard. Somehow, I didn’t think Aunt Grace laughed at anything. But she was laughing now as though she’d never stop. She laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes with a lace handkerchief she had pinned to her dress.
“Oh, dear,” she gasped finally. “I’ve never seen anything so funny in all my born days!”
“But your nice wig, Aunt Grace,” I said, dumbfounded. “Stubby’s ruined it!”
Aunt Grace slapped at the air with one hand. “Let him have it, William. I’m sure that thing is what makes my head ache. Maybe it’s time I gave it up anyway.”
“I’m really sorry, Aunt Grace,” I said again. “I hope you’ll still stay and visit with us for a while.”
“I want to, William,” she replied, smoothing her stubby hair as best she could. “You know what? Right now I feel like having an ice-cream cone. Why don’t you and I walk down to the store and get one? Maybe we can talk about how to teach that dog of yours some manners.”
It’s funny, I thought, how wrong you can be about people sometimes.
“Let’s go!” I said, offering her my arm and really behaving myself.

The fourth insight coalesced as we moved an old, heavy refrigerator from the basement of an elderly sister Clayton home taught. We had tried to find another ward member to help us but could not. Desperate, we asked Jim, a nonmember neighbor who happily agreed to help. It was a hot, horribly humid summer day, and soon our clothes were soaked with perspiration. When we reached the first turn in the staircase and had balanced the fridge on the landing, Jim said, “So tell me about the Mormon Church.”
Mopping his brow, Clayton responded, “Frankly, this is it.” He then explained how home teaching works and noted how much this sister needed us. We also told him that because graduate students and their families were moving in and out of our area all the time, our family was often helping someone load or unload a rental truck.
Jim was incredulous. “At our church we just listen to the sermon and go home. I have no idea who might need my help. They never ask, and there’s no way for me to offer. Will you ask for my help again when you need an extra pair of hands? I like this kind of thing.” Although Clayton had tried unsuccessfully to engage Jim in discussions about religion in the past, Jim was uninterested. But he was interested in opportunities to help others.
As a result, Jim subsequently accepted our invitation to take the missionary discussions.
Despite seeing much truth and goodness in our Church, Jim decided after the third discussion not to continue his investigation. Even though we know that many who discontinue investigating will later listen and accept the gospel, we were disappointed. But this taught us our fifth valuable lesson about member missionary work—we realized we had succeeded as missionaries. Jim had become a great friend, and we had given him the opportunity to understand the gospel of Jesus Christ more deeply. Whether or not he ever enters the waters of baptism, he has taken a step along the path of his own eternal progression and has made some important correct choices. Most of us fear failure. Once we realized that we succeed as member missionaries when we invite people to learn and accept the truth, much of the fear that kept us from sharing the gospel vanished.

A personal story illustrates this council. Shortly after the flood, my family moved from Rexburg to Salmon, Idaho, which is 160 miles northwest of here. We farmed and raised beef cows, alfalfa and grain. One summer, when I was about 15, we had been experiencing a severe drought. I remember one particular day when my dad pulled up along the side of the tractor and waved for me to stop. With a concerned look on his face and a serious tone in his voice he said, "We need to pray and ask Heavenly Father for rain". Without any more discussion or hesitation my dad knelt down in the dirt next to the tractor, and I did the same.

My dad prayed.

My dad taught me, and more importantly showed me, the power of prayer. I don't remember exactly when the rain came, but I remember we received the moisture the crops needed, and I knew that my dad's prayer was answered.

When the Kaysville Utah East Stake youth committee decided to stage a musical in honor of the Bicentennial, they didn’t expect the play’s nonmember author to fly from New York for the production. But nothing could have given them any more cause for enthusiasm and potential stage fright.
The young people voted to put on Tall Tom Jefferson, complete with youth orchestra. After writing to request the musical score, they were told there was no complete orchestration available to them. One of the adult leaders decided to call the New York publishing company. She soon found out she was talking to the play’s author, Ruth Roberts. Mrs. Roberts was told the production would be staged by a Church group, and her interest in Mormons and Utah increased. Of course, she was invited to attend the Kaysville performances and see Utah. Mrs. Roberts offered to lend the group the score used by a professional orchestra in England, but added she thought the arrangement much too difficult for high school-age players.
Within days, over 1,000 pages of music—23 pounds—reached Kaysville, and with them came a letter from Mrs. Roberts accepting the group’s invitation to attend their production. The young people would get the opportunity to show her their acting and musical finesse.
Meanwhile the cast was getting ready to introduce Jefferson and his friends to their friends. With more than 150 cast members, making the costumes kept wives, mothers, and sisters busy with their needles. The chorus found the orchestration and choral books to be in different keys with syncopated tempos. A major transposition overhaul put the two in step with each other and the cast.
On opening night Mrs. Roberts was there; and the local high school gym was full of hoop skirts, three-corner hats, waistcoats, and frilly petticoats, along with anxious moms and dads and restless little brothers. But it didn’t take very long before everyone settled down to enjoy an evening of early American history a lot less painful than anyone could recall it ever having been before.

Imagine that your family is moving. To Tonga. Your dad has sold his thriving dental practice. Your family has sold your new home and most of the furniture and will live solely on the proceeds from the sales, without any additional income, for at least six months, while you all help your dad in a dental clinic.
Sound incredible? For Rebecca and David Downey, it was their family’s answer to the question, “How do you move a mountain?” The question came from younger brother Brenton, who followed up with an even greater challenge, “Dad, will you teach me how to move a mountain?” The answer, after much prayer, ultimately led the entire Downey family, along with cousin Nattalie Connell, to a life-changing service project in Nuku‘alofa, Tonga. They may not have moved any mountains, but they moved dozens of suitcases, thousands of toothbrushes, and many, many hearts.
Deseret International, a nonprofit organization, sponsored Brother Downey’s dental service and arranged for him to work in a Church-built clinic and in various other locations in Tonga. Brother Downey purchased some equipment and supplies using his own funds. And thanks to an Eagle Scout project organized by Jonathan Whitworth, a friend of the Downeys, Colorado dentists donated the additional supplies Brother Downey needed. The family arranged to live in a small house near the clinic.
Rebecca (13), David (15), and Nattalie (13) had to adjust to a new language, climate, and culture. At first they missed things from home like snow skiing, nearby grocery stores, and modern conveniences. They particularly missed their friends and family. But the warm welcome they received from the students at Church-owned Liahona Middle and High Schools helped ease their adjustment. Soon they were enjoying their new environment—snorkeling in the ocean, eating bananas and coconuts from their own trees, and taking walks to the nearby temple.
Whenever possible, the teens, along with younger siblings Brenton (7), Jacob (5), and Brianna (11), assisted Brother Downey in the clinic. In the first four months alone, the teens helped him attend to thousands of patients and give away more than 14,000 toothbrushes. The toothbrushes were the first that many recipients had ever owned. Under Brother Downey’s direction, patients received nearly half a million dollars’ worth of fillings, extractions, cleanings, root canals, and other dental work. And the teens helped Brother Downey train volunteers and local nurses to ensure that dental care continued after the family’s return to the United States.
When the Downeys weren’t teaching the people of Tonga how to brush and floss, they were interacting with them in other ways. Nearly every night included a service-oriented activity—from cleaning up roadsides and beaches to singing to children in the hospital. David says he particularly enjoyed Tuesday nights, when the Downeys would have another family over for pizza. “They don’t have pizza in Tonga very often, so it’s a great treat. It’s also a great time to get to know people one on one,” he says.
Because of their service in Tonga, Rebecca, David, and Nattalie had many opportunities to share the gospel. Even before the Downeys left Colorado, people became interested in their journey and, then, the Church. “Our neighbors asked for a Book of Mormon and started to read it. Friends started to take the missionary discussions and asked if they could keep writing their questions about the Church to us by e-mail,” says David.
Rebecca and Nattalie say their own testimonies grew from the experience, as well. Rebecca adds that serving in Tonga helped her realize what was truly of worth. “I have become more humble. The people there were a great example to me. I realize that people are more important than things.” To illustrate, she recounts her family taking some of their used clothing to a family devastated by a typhoon. In gratitude, the Tongan family gave the Downeys a bowl of peanuts that they had salvaged from what was left of their crop after the storm. “That represented about a month’s worth of income for them,” notes Rebecca. “We gave them our leftovers, and they gave us everything they had.”
Now back home in Colorado, the teens are readjusting to a land-locked existence and missing their friends in Tonga. But thanks to their year abroad, they think they might know what it takes to move a mountain: faith, love, and an unquenchable desire to serve. That, and a whole lot of toothbrushes.

To me, service meant boxes of hygiene kits, a pile of donated blankets, students heading to a rundown public park with shovels and rakes. And that kind of service was something I did not have time for. I felt bad I didn’t do more for other people, but I was barely juggling my classes, part-time job, and calling already. What more could I do?
One day, a phrase popped into my head: “Service is an attitude.”
“What?” I silently asked the air. I thought service was a “project,” like gathering food for the poor or starting a recycling program.
The next day after class I saw a student cutting across campus with his backpack flopping open. He was too far away for me to yell to him. “Someone else will tell him,” I thought. But he continued power-walking away from me. No one stopped him. “I hope he doesn’t lose anything important,” I thought.
“Service is an attitude,” a voice whispered to my mind.
I broke into a run. “Hey,” I called. “Hey, buddy, your backpack is open.”
The bewildered student stopped and flipped through his folders and books to make sure nothing had fallen out. He glanced up at me, eyes wide with relief. “Thanks!”
Sometimes service is a project. Other times it’s paying attention and taking a small step out of the way to make someone’s day better.

The Power of a Study Journal
I was wondering how I could improve my studies and retain knowledge rather than having it merely pass through my mind.
One day I read in Preach My Gospel, “Use a study journal to help you understand, clarify, and remember what you are learning” ([2018], xi). I had never tried this, but I thought it was a good idea. I found a notebook and started writing about what I was reading.
It required focus, and that helped me stay attentive and retain knowledge when I studied. Writing in my study journal has helped me really ponder the scriptures. This practice has been life-changing for me.
Elder Calvin, Micronesia Guam Mission

When I face this temptation, I have a personal hero to look to. He is my younger brother Stuart. Like my given name, Stuart's name is a powerful reminder of the principle of stewardship. The Stuart family ruled England during the 1600s; the first of these Stuart Kings, James I, commissioned the translation of the Bible that we use. But before the Stuarts were kings, they served as the High Stewards of Scotland. They took their family name from the service they rendered for generations as stewards to the kings of Scotland. When my mother named Stuart, she was careful to use the spelling (with a "u") that was preferred by the royal Stuarts.

Stuart was born just 16 months after I was, and so we have always been close. When I went off to kindergarten he would wait for me in the afternoons at the school bus stop. We played on the same little league baseball team in Rexburg and together farmed the hills west of town. When I left for my mission to Japan, Stuart protected my interests in a girl named Kelly by cleverly serving as her high school locker partner.

Stuart was also called to preach the Gospel in Japan. My mission ended as his began, and we were able to meet in his mission home for a few minutes. Stuart became a better missionary than I was, in part because he had read the grumpy journal entries I sent home each week and decided that he would be happy even in difficult, ordinary circumstances.

When Stuart returned home he became a Japanese language trainer in the Missionary Training Center. He enjoyed the experience, but worried that it was interfering with his challenging BYU coursework. One day he called our father to say that he planned to quit his MTC job. President Eyring was then Bishop Eyring of the Presiding Bishopric. He had an uneasy feeling about Stuart's decision, but he had to hurry to a bishopric meeting. In that meeting, he saw in his mind's eye Stuart meeting his wife in a hallway at the MTC. After the meeting, he called Stuart to advise keeping the job. Stuart followed that counsel. Two months later, he met another Japanese language trainer, Carol Anderson. They were soon married.

Second, a quorum is a fraternity. In the October general conference of 1982, Elder Robert L. Backman recounted the experience of a young man named Mark Peterson. Shortly after his ordination as a deacon, the deacons quorum presidency scheduled an appointment with Mark and his parents at their home.
“Promptly at the hour set, the doorbell rang. The members of the presidency stood on the porch, dressed in suits, white shirts, and ties, and each one carrying his scriptures.
“Sitting down with Mark and his parents, they began with prayer, then handed an agenda to everyone there.
“The president then opened the scriptures, having Mark and his father read those references which speak of the power of the Aaronic Priesthood, what it is, and the particular duties of a deacon.
“The president then spoke about Mark’s particular responsibilities and duties: how he should dress, how he should pass the sacrament, act as a messenger, collect fast offerings. And then they asked him if he had any questions.
“At the end of the visit they welcomed him to the quorum and offered help whenever he needed it. As they left, Mark … said to his Dad: ‘They were awesome!’”

On Thursday 19 May 2022, we had a temple trip for service missionaries. Sadly, not all the missionaries could attend—but for those that could, it was a wonderful time in a sacred place.
The sun was out, and the grounds were beautiful. Being new to the mission at the time, it was good for me to meet some more missionaries.
I still feel nervous every time I go to the temple and get left alone, or even with another person my age, almost as if we are left unsupervised! But I love the feeling I get when I’m in the temple with other service missionaries (though as wonderful as the elders are, I’d definitely like more sisters in the mission!).
The temple brings a peace to my heart, even when I don’t understand everything that is going on around me. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for us, and we won’t understand everything in this life—but that we can also bring any questions we have to Heavenly Father. He loves us and He is there for us, no matter what.
Elder and Sister Kimberling, the service mission leaders, brought a picnic style lunch for us to have afterwards. I love that they are always there to take care of us missionaries, whenever we need. They are the best. I had a wonderful time with everyone and hope that sometime soon everyone in the mission can enjoy the temple together.

There are two ways the Thordersons learned this lesson: one, because they are all different from each other, and two, because as members of the Church, they are very different from most of their friends.
With six kids in a family, you can hardly expect them to all have the same likes or dislikes, virtues or vices. Sometimes this makes getting along with each other difficult, but in the Thorderson family, having different talents was encouraged. Jim said, “Our parents always let us do what we were interested in, like when Kurt wanted to be a photographer, he worked to earn a camera and they helped him. They always helped us pursue what we wanted to do.”
Consequently, Eric, Kurt, and Jim, the three oldest, have grown up to be very different people. Eric is a businessman, Kurt is doing a residency to get his M.D., and Jim is making a name for himself as an artist. But these differences have never stopped them from having a good time with each other. For instance, the year before Jim went on his mission, all three of them played on the basketball team at Wayne State University in Detroit. They know from this and many other experiences that being different doesn’t mean they can’t be friends.
And all of the Thordersons know that being different because of their values is more than all right—it’s the way to set a good example for others around you. Kurt said, “While we were growing up, Eric and I were the only LDS students in our high school, and we were in a graduating class of about 650. And then when I went to Wayne State, the only other Latter-day Saints out of 30,000 people were Eric and Dad (he works as an administrator there). It was hard, but it also made me stand up for what I believe.”
The Thordersons went to seminary at 6:00 A.M. throughout high school, and they all talk about what a great program it is. “Early morning seminary, I think, was a big boost for us,” said Kurt. “It really takes a lot of commitment to go, and I think it’s worth it.” Nels, the fifth child, who is on a mission in Salt Lake City, said, “It starts your day out right to see your Church friends early in the morning before school starts.”
Jed, who is 13, hasn’t started seminary yet, but the example of his older brothers and sister has inspired him to read the Book of Mormon each morning before school with his mother. They read one chapter a day, and they have already read through the book three times. Because of this experience, Jed is sure he’ll have no trouble getting up for seminary when the time comes. As the youngest of this clan he has probably benefited the most from the 3F formula because it was well established by the time he came along. “I think all of these big brothers are great—I get to wear all of their old clothes!” he laughs. You don’t have to ask Jed twice if he thinks the 3F formula works. He has learned its power through example, and it’s not a lesson he’s likely to forget.
So, now that you’ve met the Thordersons, do you believe the formula works?
Maybe you think, yeah, I guess they have a pretty good time together, but I still don’t understand how that little 3F thing can make such a difference.
Well, to tell the truth, it’s not the formula that makes the difference. The formula is just a reminder of the results that come when you apply the truths the Thordersons learned. Add some of your own activities, too. Things like going to your brother’s football game, or living the principles you learn in seminary, or laughing at your little sister’s corny elementary school jokes are what makes the 3F formula work. Those things have more power to change your earthly and heavenly home than you imagine. The 3F formula is powerful—you’ll have a lot of fun with it if you give it a try. Just ask the Thordersons, who are living proof; they’ll tell you they’re working on the 4F formula, too. That’s family = friends = fun = forever.

Now, you young men, let’s carefully consider some examples from the lives of our prophets as they have spiritually prepared for the priesthood. President Joseph Fielding Smith shares with us his feelings in these words: “‘When I was a small boy, too young to hold the Aaronic Priesthood, my father placed a copy of the Book of Mormon in my hands with the request that I read it. I received this Nephite record with thanksgiving and applied myself to the task which had been assigned to me. There are certain passages that have been stamped upon my mind and I have never forgotten them.’ By the time he was ten years old he had read the Book of Mormon through not just once but twice. His brothers remembered of his hurrying to get through his chores as quickly as possible, and sometimes even leaving a ball game early, and secluding himself in the hayloft or in the shade of a tree to get back to his reading of the book.” (Joseph Fielding Smith, Jr., and John J. Stewart, The Life of Joseph Fielding Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1972, p. 57.)

I had lunch recently with Elder and Sister John Hess of Ashton, Idaho. “We’re just old potato farmers,” John told me, but that is precisely what the nation of Belarus in the Russia Moscow Mission needed. For years the very best potato yields on government plots of ground there had been 50 sacks of potatoes a hectare. Considering it takes 22 sacks of seed to plant a hectare, the return was poor indeed. They needed help.

Brother Hess asked for ground just three feet away from the government plots, rolled up his sleeves, and went to work with the same seed, tools, and fertilizer available in Belarus. Come harvest time they began to dig, then called on others to dig, then called on everyone to dig. With the same rainfall and soil, but with an extra measure of Idaho industry, experience, and prayer, the plots planted by the Hesses produced a whopping 550 sacks per hectare—11 times better than any prior yield on that land. At first no one would believe the difference. They wondered if secret teams had come in the night or if some wonder drug had been used. But it was none of that. Brother Hess said, “We needed a miracle, so we asked for one.” Now just little more than a year later, in that community young proselyting missionaries are finding much more success just because an “old potato farmer” from Idaho answered the call of his church.

I visited my grandpa and grandma who are not members of the LDS Church. On Sunday we went to the church where my grandpa preaches. A girl invited me to go to Sunday School with her. The teacher was teaching about “Mormonism.” I knew that what she was teaching was not the truth, and I felt angry. I excused myself from class. Once I was alone I said a prayer to ask Heavenly Father for courage to bear my testimony. When I got back to class, I raised my hand and said, “I am a Mormon.” Suddenly I felt the Spirit really strong and my fear went away completely.
The teacher asked me if I could tell the class why we are called Mormons. I said, “We are called Mormons because we believe in the Book of Mormon.” A girl said that she had started to read the Book of the Mormon but she laughed at it. She asked me how I could believe such a story. Her question hurt my feelings, but I said what was in my heart: “I know it is true because I prayed to Heavenly Father and He told me it was so.” Before this happened I did not think I could share my testimony with so many people who didn’t believe in our Church, but now I know that the Spirit will always give me courage.

“I moved to Salt Lake City around 1950,” Vinca says. “I was a nurse, but I had to renew my certificate to practice in the U.S.”
The move gave her a chance to learn English better. It also gave her another opportunity to learn about the Church. She lived in the Beehive House and worked at a doctor’s office across the street. She also played the cello in the Utah Symphony and made a number of good friends.
“I attended church with them too. And I walked on Temple Square during my lunch hour every day. But I still thought of religion as something you could decide to make a part of your life as you liked.”
After two years in Salt Lake, Vinca moved to Sacramento, California, USA, and lived for a short time with the family of one of the missionaries who had taught her in Denmark. When she made enough money as a surgical nurse to support herself, she moved out on her own. She and the missionary dated and eventually became engaged.
“Things didn’t work out,” Vinca recalls, and when they broke off their engagement, she moved on, losing touch with Church members.
Not long after, Vinca met Ward, a dentist and oral surgeon who was born and raised in Sacramento. He was a strong, handsome man who had served as a navy officer during the war. Though 11 years older than Vinca, he swept her off her feet, and the two were married in 1954.
They bought a home not far from his practice. Though they could not have children, they had a wonderful, loving marriage. They worked, they traveled, he painted, and she continued to play her music. Life was good for many years.
Ward passed away in 1985. Vinca lived on in their home until about 1999, when she started feeling anxious to move. Her home was large, more than she needed, and she felt a desire for change. She discovered a small town that suited her in Haines, Alaska. She retired there, and so things would have ended if the missionaries had not come knocking on her door once more in 2006.
At last, after many chances and many years, the timing was right.
“I never really had known much about religion,” Vinca says, “but I knew some things that made me ask questions, things that disappointed me or seemed strange.
“When I learned about this gospel, everything just made sense: the plan of salvation, what is expected of us, the promises made, the Book of Mormon. I like especially the Church doctrine of temple work for those who pass away who have not been introduced to the gospel. I felt at ease about it; it was something I could accept because it was clear and open to me, like coming home.
“I finally did what I should have done a long time ago. I don’t know why it took me so long. I had met a lot of wonderful people, and they all had some influence in my decision to join the Church. It did take years, but getting baptized was the best thing I ever did.”
Vinca was baptized on October 14, 2006—on her husband’s birthday. Just a year later, she attended the temple for the first time and was sealed to Ward (by proxy) for time and all eternity. For Vinca, the experience of attending the temple and of being sealed to the love of her life “was unbelievable, beautiful.”
Having gained this supernal blessing of being sealed to her beloved husband, Vinca desires now to share temple blessings with her relatives. Though she is 86 years old and suffers from kidney failure, she is motivated.
“I hope my husband and his parents and my parents and my own brothers and sisters will accept the gospel. I have a lot of temple work to get done.
“One of my main projects in life now is to do as much temple work as I can, as much genealogy as possible. I feel I have a reason for living here. Even if I live to be 100, it’s all right. I have things to do now. It feels good, really, to be able to do it.”
As Vinca turns her gaze back to her house to head inside, she is filled with the hope that comes from the gospel of Jesus Christ. Being a member of this Church “has been a blessing in so many countless ways. You feel peace of mind. You feel stronger. When things are absolutely gorgeous, you feel, ‘Oh boy, this is heaven.’ It makes you feel grateful for living.”
Vinca lives with a grateful heart—because the fire of the gospel and the hope of eternities with her loving husband burns bright within her.