Gospel Story Finder

We were excited, of course, to receive some mail the other day, but even more than that, we were thrilled to discover the June issue of the New Era among our letters.
As sister missionaries in the Germany South Mission we work a great deal with families and the family home evening program, mainly with members of the Church. Both of us are privileged to be members of large, faithful families, so the articles about the family had a special meaning for us. While doing the daily things that need to be done (dishes) and later walking along the cobblestone streets of old Bamberg, we finished the issue that first day and only wished there were more. It left us with a feeling of great love and appreciation for the family unit. We both have strong testimonies of the importance of eternal family ties.
The article entitled “You’re My Family?!! or ‘Hello, Mr. Brown, I’m Elder …’” was particularly applicable in our non-family family situation. This magazine (along with the others) is inspiring and helps to direct us in our efforts to return with our families into his presence.
Sisters Edamarie Schumann and Shirley SmithGermany South Mission

One day my friend Viviana and I heard about an important fireside from our Young Women leaders. They encouraged us to go, even though it was far away from where we lived.
We were not familiar with how to get there by bus, and we couldn’t afford a taxi. However, we trusted in the Lord and went on the bus. On the ride, my friend saw someone she knew, and the woman suggested that we catch the metro at the next stop. So we did. When we got off, we were already quite close to the stake center. And since the metro ride happened to be free because of its recent grand opening, we were able to use that money to pay for a taxi to our destination.
After we got to the fireside, we had a problem: we were out of money! We didn’t tell anyone, but when the fireside ended, our bishop came and gave each of us a tithing envelope with money in it. He said, “I’m afraid you put more money into your envelopes than you had recorded on the donation slip, and here is what you overpaid.”
At that moment, Viviana and I embraced each other. We knew that because of our diligence in following our leaders and paying our tithing, our Heavenly Father was blessing us. That experience reminds me how much He is aware of me and loves me. I know that when we obey His commandments in faith, He will bless us.
Maria C., Venezuela

“The gospel makes evil minded men good, and good men better and women and children better than they have ever been before.”
So said the prophet David O. McKay. To illustrate I would like to share with you a conversion story. The account concerns Louis Novak, a Lutheran minister, and his wife, Alice, and their two children, Kurt and Kristin. Reverend Novak and his wife had been born, baptized, raised, confirmed, and married in the Lutheran Church. It was with a sense of pride on the part of his parents and a sense of duty on his own part that he went through two Lutheran private colleges and a Lutheran theological graduate school to become a pastor in the American Lutheran Church. For nearly fourteen years he and his wife served in the Lutheran Church and endeavored to find truth and spiritual peace. During that period, from all external appearances, they were able to attain a level of income, style of life, social stratum, and educational prestige which left little to be desired. With such stability and high approval from family, friends, and supervisors, it could be said “they had it made.” Yet they were not satisfied. They had haunting insecurity in their souls that something very basic and important was missing in their lives. They could not be satisfied.
The soul that is honest in heart must search.
In Reverend Novak’s words, “As I look back on my life and experience, I realize my dissatisfaction stemmed from a number of areas. [First] I had a deep and negative reaction to my association with my fellow pastors. The strong and seemingly overwhelming stress on church politics, self-advancement, personal glory, financial achievement, and congregational statistics made me feel that true spirituality was seriously lacking.
“[Second] I had deep theological concerns—the order of worship service seemed cold, impersonal, and unimaginative. The great stress on salvation by grace and minimization on works was to me a scriptural contradiction. On contemplating scripture I found that the ‘works’ passages far exceeded the ‘grace’ passages.
“I found myself recoiling at the indifferent reaction of my church leadership to the virgin birth, the creation, the wide acceptance and use of loose translations of scripture and the general lack of response to basic Christian morals.
“Was God really dead, or had He gone into retirement and ceased to care about His creation? Why did He sink into strange and sudden silence with the last word in the Bible?”
On September 1, 1968, Reverend Novak and his family moved to Broomfield, Colorado, where he was made pastor of the Lutheran Church of Hope, a very prestigious and desirable assignment. From all outward appearances it left nothing to be desired, but there was something desperately wrong. Something was missing: there was a feeling of spiritual hollowness in his heart and it was shared equally by his wife, Alice.
Alice was a music educator and in Broomfield she had a number of Latter-day Saint students. She could not help but notice something very special about them. She reported to her husband that she had asked one of her Mormon students if Mormons were Christian. Of course, Reverend Novak knew well the Lutheran position that Mormons were non-Christian. The little Mormon girl boldly stated that Mormons most definitely were Christian.
Alice had been touched by the young girl’s testimony. Next came an invitation from the family of one of the piano students to attend the Broomfield Ward open house. The young student’s family had resisted because they did not think it appropriate to send such an invitation to a Lutheran pastor. But this little girl persisted to the point that the parents reluctantly consented.
On the appointed day Alice was unavailable to attend the open house and Reverend Novak was hosting a regional meeting of the Lutheran Church of Hope. As the time for the open house arrived he had a strange and overpowering urge to leave the Lutheran meeting and attend. He yielded.
As he entered the Latter-day Saint chapel he said he was met by a friendly and concerned gentleman who talked with him and stayed by his side for fully two hours, answering questions, and “just being supportive.”
The Reverend continues, “As the program began, a member of the Seventies made a presentation on the doctrine of the Church which I am sure was inspired by the Holy Spirit. I shall never forget it. From the chapel we were led to the baptismal font by a young priest who explained baptism according to the theology of the Latter-day Saints. This mature presentation by such a young man made a great impression, because I had seriously questioned the Lutheran theology of baptism for years. I sensed that what this young man said was true.
“We then went to the Relief Society room where we were given a beautiful and intelligent presentation. To hear a lovely woman give such a positive and strong testimony was heartwarming to me. We were then ushered into a seminary room to view the film Christ in America. I could hardly contain my excitement as so many of my questions regarding church history were suddenly answered.
“I was currently pursuing a doctorate in religion. Here I was, my doctorate nearly complete and the answers to my quest for the truth coming in the Latter-day Saint chapel! It was probably at this time, at the culmination of so much presented so well, that I was actually converted. I knew that this had to be the true church. My heart was ready but how could I become a part of it all? How hard it is to give up physical security and comfortable tradition. I purchased a Book of Mormon that day and went home elated. I remember telling Alice later, ‘There is something special there. I really felt good at that church. They have something I have never known before.’
“The summer of 1974, after I had received my doctorate, I was in spiritual turmoil. The ward open house remained a haunting reminder that something better was available. One evening the mother of one of the Mormon students called regarding a musical question. For the first time I bared my spiritual turmoil to a patient and understanding ear.
“Not long after this our family was invited to their family home evening. We came away so warmed; yet how impossible it seemed for us to make such a change. My job, security, comfortable life, social standing, family ties, house, pension—it all flooded through my mind. Yet how does one in the name of Jesus Christ preach and teach that which he knows is not true?
“Finally in the fall of 1974, although things were still going well at my parish, I knew in my heart that a change was necessary. I knew I was spiritually starved and I was even more concerned for the spiritual malnutrition of my family.
“And so it was that on October 25, 1974, an especially beautiful day in Colorado, as I left the University of Denver where I was pursuing a second doctorate, a strange and overpowering urge came upon me to go to the Colorado Mission home. I had memorized the address long before and so, although I had many other pressing matters on my agenda, my automobile seemed to refuse to go anywhere except to 709 Clarkson Street. I kept telling myself I merely wanted to drive by to see what the mission home looked like.
“I remember, however, that I did stop the car in front of the house, my intention being only to look the place over from the outside. I remember sitting there for a moment intending not to shut off the engine. But somehow the engine did shut off and I sat there and looked at my watch. It was noon—12:35 p.m.—and I told myself it was inappropriate to call on anyone during the lunch hour. But I remember getting out of the car. I remember standing on the sidewalk at the base of the steps thinking, ‘This is a nice place and I’ll just turn around now and go back to the car. I have no business here. After all, I am a Lutheran pastor.’
“But instead I labored up those steps. I must have rung the buzzer because the door opened. There stood a bright-eyed missionary. He invited me in. I said, ‘I really shouldn’t be here today. Besides, it’s lunch hour.’ He said, ‘We are through eating.’
“I almost panicked. Why was I here? How could I get out of this one? So I said, ‘I want you to know something. I am a Lutheran pastor and I’m here because I’m interested in all the world religions. So I thought I’d stop by and see what the Mormons are all about. I don’t want to take too much of your time because it is the noon hour.’ The young man explained again, ‘We are through eating.’ One thing led to another; all the while I was reminding them that I was a minister of the gospel and, therefore, not a good prospect.
“Somehow we spent an hour or two. I apologized upon leaving that I had taken so much time and wished them well, reminding them again that I was a Lutheran pastor and therefore not a prospect. As I drove away I had a warm feeling in my heart and yet a nagging fear that these good missionaries just might believe that I wasn’t a prospect!
“One day later the bright-eyed missionary telephoned me at my office in the Lutheran Church of Hope, of all places! How glad I was he called! During the conversation he asked if he and his companion could come over and meet my family. The next evening two missionaries came to our home and the process of our conversion continued to develop step by step, logically and without hesitation. On January 25, 1975, three months and five hours exactly from the time I rang the door bell at the Colorado Mission home, our family entered the waters of baptism at the Broomfield Ward Chapel. After half a lifetime of searching, finally our joy was full.
“Kurt and Kristin relished the new challenge and associations of the Church. They grew and matured beautifully. It was a joy to see them blossom as they learned the ways of Christ’s true church on earth. Alice and I equally relished the joy of having found the truth. Our hearts were finally at peace.”

As a missionary here in Mexico I am faced with rather special situations, one of which is the frequent need to ride alone in buses from city to city. The mission rules state that we must never be without a “companion,” so I always take along the New Era to keep me company on the long, lonely rides through the night. Gracias, amigos.
Elder Sterling Robin SmithMexico North Mission

For Raymond, developing patience was difficult. “It was hard to see people who have been taught correct principles, who know their responsibilities but fail to do them,” he remembers. “I coped with this situation by reminding myself to make sure that the Lord can count on me to choose the right.”

Joseph Smith obtained this ancient record from a heavenly messenger, just as John prophesied. This angel appeared to him and revealed the location of ancient records which were inscribed on metallic plates and buried in a stone vault. In due time, the young prophet was given the plates and the means by which they were translated. The book was then published to the world as canonized scripture.

Before leaving Nauvoo, the Quorum of the Twelve and the Council of Fifty had contemplated settling in the Salt Lake Valley or the Bear River Valley to the north. Both valleys were on the far side of the Rocky Mountains, and descriptions of them were promising.49 Brigham had seen in a vision the spot where the Saints would settle, but he had only a general sense of where to find it. Still, he prayed that God would direct him and the advance company to the right gathering place for the Church.50
The advance company was composed of 143 men selected by the apostles. Harriet Young, the wife of Brigham’s brother Lorenzo, asked if she and her two young sons could accompany Lorenzo on the journey. Brigham then asked his wife Clara, who was Harriet’s daughter from her first marriage, to join the company as well. Heber Kimball’s plural wife Ellen, an immigrant from Norway, also joined the company.51
Just as the advance company was preparing to leave, Parley Pratt and John Taylor returned to Winter Quarters from their mission to England. Along with Orson Hyde, who was still overseeing the Church in Britain, they had appointed new mission leaders and restored order among the Saints. Now, believing they had been away from their families for too long, Parley and John declined Brigham’s entreaties to join the rest of the quorum on the trek west. Brigham therefore left them in charge of Winter Quarters.52
On the afternoon of April 16, 1847, the advance company began their journey under cold and gloomy skies. “We mean to open up the way for the salvation of the honest in heart from all nations, or sacrifice everything in our stewardship,” the apostles declared in a farewell letter to the Saints at Winter Quarters. “In the name of Israel’s God, we mean to conquer or die trying.”53

In January this year, my wife, Anita, and I, visited Abaiang Island with the vice president of Kiribati and his wife. Church members prepared well to receive them. The vice president spoke very highly of the Church.

Whilst there I met four widowed service missionaries: Sister Turia Manraoi Kaiea, (75) widowed for 12 years; Sister Tiena Kiakia, (64) widowed for 10 years; Sister Bakate Tekarika, (63) widowed for nine years and Sister Tengabi Ioaa, (70) widowed 10 years ago.

These four senior citizens receive monthly government grants of AUD 200. They went to their stake president after deciding that they can utilise the money well if they serve missions. They were set apart and off they went to Abaiang, an outer island in North Tarawa. They help in ministering and teach the temple preparation courses at Abaiang units. President Mwemwenikeaki said, “These are faithful sisters who are leading by example in serving missions.”

A few years ago my father had a serious operation and spent several weeks in the hospital. This was during the winter months. My sons and I had made several trips down to my parents’ home to keep the snow cleared from the driveway and walk, but one day while I was working and my sons were in school, we had a very heavy snowfall. My mother was trying to clear the walks when a young university student came by, laid his books down, gently took the shovel from her, and cleared all the walks and driveway. As my mother thanked him he said, “That’s all right. I am away from home going to school. Maybe someone else’s son will be there to help my mother.”
As my mother told me how this young man had helped her, I remembered the words from my childhood: “God bless you, my son. I pray that some young man will be there to help your mother.”
And he was.

On a beautiful afternoon towards the end of August, my friend and I made a discovery. Along the old railway embankment at the back of a park were scores of blackberry bushes with the biggest, juiciest fruit we’d ever seen. We hurried home to collect containers and then returned to the park to pick the blackberries. We worked methodically in the warm afternoon sun, stripping the bushes bare of their treasures until we reached the end of the path.
As we made our way back, we were surprised to see more luscious berries we had not seen before. We stopped and continued to fill our containers, amazed that we could have missed those berries the first time. At last our containers were full, and we were ready to make blackberry pie.

I learned the importance of this early in my career. After finishing my education at Stanford Law School, I sought employment at a particular law firm. No members of the Church were associated with the firm, but the firm was made up of lawyers of character and ability. After a morning of interviews, the senior partner and two other partners invited me to lunch. The senior partner inquired if I would like a prelunch alcoholic drink and later if I would like wine. In both cases, I declined. The second time, I informed him that I was an active Latter-day Saint and did not drink alcoholic beverages.
I received an offer of employment from the firm. A few months later, the senior partner told me the offer of the alcoholic beverages was a test. He noted that my résumé made it clear that I had served an LDS mission. He had determined that he would hire me only if I was true to the teachings of my own church. He considered it a significant matter of character and integrity.

Are we our brother’s keeper? Yes! Let’s look at an experience from our Church history that illustrates this great principle.
John Chislett, a subcaptain in the Willie Company, one of the pioneer handcart companies, wrote:
“We reached [Fort] Laramie about the 1st or 2nd of September, but the provisions, etc., which we expected, were not there for us. Captain Willie called a meeting to take into consideration our circumstances, conditions, and prospects, and to see what could be done. It was ascertained that at our present rate of travel and consumption of flour the latter would be exhausted when we were about three hundred and fifty miles from our destin[a]tion. It was resolved to reduce our allowance from one pound to three-quarters of a pound per day, and at the same time to make every effort in our power to travel faster. We continued this rate of rations from Laramie to Independence Rock.
“About this time Captain Willie received a letter from Apostle [Willard] Richards informing him that we might expect supplies to meet us from the valley by the time we reached South Pass. An examination of our stock of flour showed us that it would be gone before we reached that point. Our only alternative was to still further reduce our bill of fare. The issue of flour was then to average ten ounces per day. …
“We had not travelled far up the Sweetwater before the nights, which had gradually been getting colder since we left Laramie, became very severe. The mountains before us, as we approached nearer to them, revealed themselves to view mantled nearly to their base in snow, and tokens of a coming storm were discernable in the clouds which each day seemed to lower around us. …
“Our seventeen pounds of clothing and bedding was now altogether insufficient for our comfort. Nearly all suffered more or less at night from cold. Instead of getting up in the morning strong, refreshed, vigorous, and prepared for the hardships of another day of toil, the poor Saints were to be seen crawling out from their tents haggard, benumbed, and showing an utter lack of that vitality so necessary to our success.
“Cold weather, scarcity of food, lassitude and fatigue from over-exertion, soon produced their effects. Our old and infirm people began to droop, and they no sooner lost spirit and courage than death’s stamp could be traced upon their features. Life went out as smoothly as a lamp ceases to burn when the oil is gone. At first the deaths occurred slowly and irregularly, but in a few days at more frequent intervals, until we soon thought it unusual to leave a campground without burying one or more persons.
“Death was not long confined in its ravages to the old and infirm, but the young and naturally strong were among its victims. … Many a father pulled his cart, with his little children on it, until the day preceding his death. I have seen some pull their carts in the morning, give out during the day, and die before next morning. …
“We travelled on in misery and sorrow day after day. Sometimes we made a pretty good distance, but at other times we were only able to make a few miles progress. Finally we were overtaken by a snowstorm which the shrill wind blew furiously about us. …
“In the morning the snow was over a foot deep. Our cattle strayed widely during the storm, and some of them died. But what was worse to us than all this was the fact that five persons of both sexes lay in the cold embrace of death.
“The morning before the storm, or, rather, the morning of the day on which it came, we issued the last ration of flour. On this fatal morning, therefore, we had none to issue. We had, however, a barrel or two of hard bread which Captain Willie had procured at Fort Laramie in view of our destitution. This was equally and fairly divided among all the company. …
“Being surrounded by snow a foot deep, out of provisions, many of our people sick, and our cattle dying, it was decided that we should remain in our present camp until the supply train reached us. … The scanty allowance of hard bread and poor beef, distributed as described, was mostly eaten the first day by the hungry, ravenous, famished souls.
“We killed more cattle and issued the meat; but, eating it without bread, did not satisfy hunger, and to those who were suffering from dysent[e]ry it did more harm than good. This terrible disease increased rapidly amongst us during these three days, and several died from exhaustion. … The recollection of it unmans me even now—those three days! During that time I visited the sick, the widows whose husbands died in serving them, and the aged who could not help themselves, to know for myself where to dispense the few articles that had been placed in my charge for distribution. Such craving hunger I never saw before, and may God in his mercy spare me the sight again.”2
At this point a dispatch was sent to President Brigham Young from Captain Grant, who was one of the forward scouts, and this is what it said:
“It is not much use for me to attempt to give a description of the situation of these people, for this you will learn from your son Joseph A. and [Brother] Garr, who are the bearers of this express; but you can imagine between five and six hundred men, women and children, worn down by drawing handcarts through snow and mud; fainting by the wayside; falling, chilled by the cold; children crying, their limbs stiffened by cold, their feet bleeding and some of them bare to snow and frost. The sight is almost too much for the stoutest of us.”4
In Salt Lake City, at general conference on 5 October 1856, this is what President Brigham Young said:
“Many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with handcarts, and probably many are now seven hundred miles [1,100 kilometers] from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. …
“I shall call upon the Bishops this day. I shall not wait until tomorrow, nor until the next day, for 60 good mule teams and 12 or 15 wagons. I do not want to send oxen. I want good horses and mules. They are in this Territory, and we must have them. Also 12 tons [11 tonnes] of flour and 40 good teamsters, besides those that drive the teams. … First, 40 good young men who know how to drive teams, to take charge of the teams that are now managed by men, women and children who know nothing about driving them. Second, 60 or 65 good spans of mules, or horses, with harness, whipple trees, neck-yokes, stretchers, lead chains, &c. And thirdly, 24 thousand pounds [11,000 kilograms] of flour, which we have on hand. …
“I will tell you all that your faith, religion, and profession of religion, will never save one soul of you in the Celestial Kingdom of our God, unless you carry out just such principles as I am now teaching you. Go and bring in those people now on the plains. And attend strictly to those things which we call temporal, or temporal duties. Otherwise, your faith will be in vain. The preaching you have heard will be in vain to you, and you will sink to Hell, unless you attend to the things we tell you.”5
In the meantime, the Willie Company had received word that a train of supplies was on the way, and Captain Willie and one other man were sent out in search of the supply train and to hasten its rescue mission to the stranded Saints. John Chislett wrote:
“On the evening of the third day (October 21) after Captain Willie’s departure, just as the sun was sinking beautifully behind the distant hills, on an eminence immediately west of our camp several covered wagons, each drawn by four horses were seen coming towards us. The news ran through the camp like wildfire, and all who were able to leave their beds turned out en masse to see them. A few minutes brought them sufficiently near to reveal our faithful captain slightly in advance of the train. Shouts of joy rent the air; strong men wept till tears ran freely down their furrowed and sun-burnt cheeks, and little children partook of the joy which some of them hardly understood, and fairly danced around with gladness. Restraint was set aside in the general rejoicing, and as the brethren entered our camp the sisters fell upon them and deluged them with kisses.”6
Now, as the sufferers got closer to the Salt Lake Valley, President Brigham Young again convened the Saints in the Tabernacle and said:
“When those persons arrive I do not want to see them put into houses by themselves; I want to have them distributed in the city among the families that have good and comfortable houses; and I wish all the sisters now before me, and all who know how and can, to nurse and wait upon the new comers and prudently administer medicine and food to them. To speak upon these things is a part of my religion, for it pertains to taking care of the Saints. …
“The afternoon meeting will be omitted, for I wish the sisters to go home and prepare to give those who have just arrived a mouthful of something to eat, and to wash them and nurse them up. You know that I would give more for a dish of pudding and milk, or a baked potato and salt, were I in the situation of those persons who have just come in, than I would for all your prayers, though you were to stay here all the afternoon and pray. Prayer is good, but when baked potatoes and pudding and milk are needed, prayer will not supply their place on this occasion; give every duty its proper time and place. …
“Some you will find with their feet frozen to their ankles; some are frozen to their knees and some have their hands frosted. … We want you to receive them as your own children, and to have the same feeling for them. We are their temporal saviors, for we have saved them from death.”7

While serving as Secretary of Agriculture in the Cabinet of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, I was invited to give the keynote address at the annual convention of the World Food and Agriculture Organization at Rome, Italy. Between sixty and seventy nations were represented at the great international conference.
Following the morning session, which included the address, an impressive luncheon was given in my honor in the International Banquet Hall, which was decorated with flags of many nations.
The customary cocktail hour preceded the luncheon. I noticed as the men held glasses in their hands that there was apparently no liquor being served but only soft drinks and fruit juices. I mentioned this to my host, Dr. Sen of India, and said, “Surely many of these men are used to their liquor, which is customary during the cocktail hour.” He said, “No, Mr. Secretary, today we honor you and respect your standards.”
Following the period of fellowship, we took our places at the banquet table. Here I was even more surprised to find that there was no coffee being served but again only soft drinks and fruit juices. I said to Dr. Sen, “Surely the men attending the luncheon expect to have their usual hot drink.” He smiled very graciously and said, “No, Mr. Secretary, I am the host. You are the honored guest, and at this luncheon we honor you and respect your standards.”
And so it was at a luncheon attended by distinguished leaders from many nations. No member of the Church will ever have cause to be embarrassed by real men or women because of his or her standards. Again, it pays to maintain the standards of the Church.

Mercy Watson to the Rescue, by Kate DiCamillo. Mercy Watson is a pet pig who loves buttered toast but hates sleeping alone. When Mr. and Mrs. Watson’s too-heavy bed starts falling through the floor, Mercy’s search for buttered toast helps her save the day.

I close by reading a simple yet profound letter that reflects our love for our prophet and his leadership:
“Dear President Monson,
“Five years ago, President Hinckley was sustained as prophet, seer, and revelator. For me that was an extraordinary occasion which had to do with your calling for the sustaining vote of the Church.
“On that particular morning, I needed to haul hay for my livestock. I was enjoying conference on my truck radio. I had picked up the hay, backed into the barn, and was throwing down hay bales from the back of the truck. When you called for the brethren of the priesthood, ‘wherever you are,’ to prepare to sustain the prophet, I wondered if you meant me. I wondered if the Lord would be offended because I was sweaty and covered with dust. But I took you at your word and climbed down from the truck.
“I shall never forget standing alone in the barn, hat in hand, with sweat running down my face, with arm to the square to sustain President Hinckley. Tears mixed with sweat as I sat for several minutes contemplating this sacred occasion.”
He continued:
“In our lives, we place ourselves at particular places when events of large consequence occur. That has happened to me, but none more spiritual or tender or memorable than that morning in the barn with only cows and a roan horse looking on.
“Sincerely,
“Clark Cederlof”

The day I received my call was exactly two weeks after I had sent in my papers. Before opening the envelope I knelt down to ask my Heavenly Father if this was where he wanted me to go. I begged with all my heart that he would answer me, and the answer came with the same peaceful feeling I had received when I asked about the gospel before my baptism. “Yes, this is the mission I have chosen for you,” came the answer, and I quickly opened the envelope. I was called to the California Ventura Mission.

As usual, my alarm went off at 4:30 A.M. And as usual, I reached over and shut it off. I sat up in the dark and asked myself why I did this to myself every morning. After complaining about how stupid early-morning seminary was, I got up and got ready to go. My brother was already up.
As usual, we arrived five minutes late. I sat in the back row farthest from the teacher. Lately my testimony had been shrinking. Things had not been going right, and my grades had been going down. I thought that if I was living right, everything else in my life should be good too.
As I sat there, not listening to the lesson, I began to wonder if the Church was really true. The thought scared me. I was worried that the things I had been taught all my life were wrong. Right there in class, I started praying silently for help in finding out if the Church was true. By this time, I had stopped listening to the lesson being taught. Finally seminary was over, and I left the building with my brother.
We were getting into the car when I noticed a piece of paper on the windshield. At first I thought it was an advertisement. I opened the paper, and in big bold letters at the top it said, “In Which Shall We Believe?” I began reading. It was a list of verses from the Book of Mormon and quotations from other Church books and leaders that seemed to contradict each other. I realized that the paper was from another church that had a building down the street.
My brother and I took the paper home and went straight to our parents. They read through it. We talked for a few minutes about one of the statements, which they helped answer. Then they put the paper on the desk. We had to leave for school.
A couple of days later, I picked up the paper and began looking up each quotation. The paper was wrong. I found that the statements did not contradict each other. The people who had collected the quotations had printed only part of a scripture or part of a statement—only the parts that seemed to contradict one another. This made me remember what one of my Primary teachers had told me: “Read the scriptures as a whole and not a part.”
I knelt down beside my bed and prayed. I asked Heavenly Father if the Church was true and if what I was reading in the Book of Mormon was correct. I said amen and stayed on my knees for a few minutes and listened. When I got up, I felt energized. I felt terrific. I felt happy. I knew by how I felt that the Church and the Book of Mormon were true. That was my answer.
In a way, I am grateful to those people who were trying to tear down the Church. Because of them, I was motivated to find out for myself—and I found that what I had been taught really was true.

When I was 10 years old, I sat in a sacrament meeting and watched my beautiful mother as she stood at the pulpit and told of her experiences as a young missionary in the Southern States Mission. She likened bringing someone to baptism to the thrill of giving birth and bringing a new child into the world. She bore her testimony with strength and conviction. She didn’t need to tell me that missionary work was important; her example said it all. She didn’t need to tell me what a testimony was because I felt it that day as I heard her share hers with the ward and with me. There are people all around us who need the benefit of our good example. President Gordon B. Hinckley said, “The most persuasive gospel tract is the exemplary life of a faithful Latter-day Saint” (“Five Million Members—A Milestone and Not a Summit,” Ensign, May 1982, 45).

I really am happy to be receiving the New Era from my friend Robyn. All the stories have helped me, and I am trying to help my family. As I was looking through the July issue, I came across the Mormonad “Friends Are Easy to Talk To.” I remembered reading that somewhere before, and then I remembered that it was in seminary. Brother Broadhead, who wrote the Mormonad, was my seminary teacher. Thank you, Brother Broadhead, for this Mormonad. It has really helped me. Thank you for being a super teacher in seminary, too. And thank you, New Era, for printing it.
Sharlene HenryClearfield, Utah

In one instance, the Laurel presidency discovered that one of their less-active members had an unusual doll collection. For one activity night, they all brought their favorite collections.