Gospel Story Finder

Our preparation does not always proceed just as we had planned it. My own mother has shared with me some of her goals and aspirations. Often as she began a project, something would happen to change her course of action: a mother-in-law in her waning years needed a home and special care, a younger sister needed help to complete her schooling. There were those with whom she worked who also desperately needed help. She was always there to serve. She gave this service graciously, and though not all her own personal plans were accomplished, she looks back on her life and says that if she had it to do all over again, she wouldn’t change anything. Service to others brings that kind of satisfaction.

I am a banana seller and a graduate of policy studies and administration from the University of Calabar, Nigeria.
I worked with my certificate as a degree holder but was underemployed, my salary at the end of the month was not enough to take care of my basic needs so I quit the job to sell bananas.
When I was introduced to the self-reliance devotional, I found it very interesting and I joined the Starting and Growing My Business group.
During my group meeting, I learned a lot of principles that enabled me to start my own business.
Some of the principles I learned that have made my business successful are:
Payment of tithes.
Fasting and praying for the progress of my business.
Spiritual self-reliance (my faith has grown tremendously in the Lord)
Networking for clients (I have an umbrella shop. I also hawk my goods)
I have an expense book for cash in and cash out reports.
I have developed daily savings.
I have a salary from my business.
Now I can afford my basic needs, provide for those around me, and have enough time to plan for myself and my business.
The experience I gained during my group meeting has blessed my life, and I have encouraged everyone around me to join any of the self-reliance groups to also experience a change in their lives.
I may not be fully self-reliant now, but from my efforts, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

A few days ago, I went to a local supermarket, quite late at night. I had had a long day. Working with clients and then studying, my day didn’t finish until 10 p.m. I decided to just run in and grab a few items.
The night was cold, and I was glad to finish and load my shopping in my car. As I did so, a woman approached me and asked me for some help. I imagined that she wanted a coin for a trolley or something like that. She looked a little dishevelled. She began a long explanation about not having any money, and that she and her partner had hoped to purchase £5 worth of petrol for their car, because this particular petrol station made a charge on cards 24 hours later and they didn’t have any money until the following day, only to find that the petrol station was closed. Now they would have to travel further to buy what they needed, with no funds available.
I explained that unfortunately, I didn’t have any cash or my cards with me. I only had my phone. I was aware that the night was dark and cold, and I knew I wanted to help, but felt I couldn’t. She then asked me if I would transfer some money into her bank, using my phone. I admit, I did not want to do that! Now I was having to really ask myself what kind of human being I was. I had to balance my wish to just go home, to let myself off the hook, with my desire to be helpful. I could reassure myself that my intention was to be kind, but honestly, transfer money into a stranger’s bank account? What if this was a scam? What if I was being tricked?
Then she asked me if I would call her partner, to allow him to give me his bank details (he was in the supermarket, trying to find a solution.) Everything in me wanted to say no, and yet another part of me said, “it’s cold and dark, you can’t just leave them here.” I wanted my faith to be convenient! In my version of this story, I would give her £5 that I happened to have in my purse (that I had not left at home), and then get on and feel good about myself. I wanted her to accept that I didn’t have any ready cash and go away. I didn’t want to stand about getting cold and feeling anxious and worry about whether I was doing a good thing or being taken advantage of.
Yet through it all, I kept thinking, “it’s cold and dark.” I had to let myself know about the times when I have been cold, in the dark, with no one to help. None of this was easy, or quick, or convenient.
So, I transferred the money and wished them well.

A friend of mine told the following story:
“There was a little crippled boy who ran a small newsstand in a crowded railroad station. He must have been about twelve years old. Every day he would sell papers, candy, gum, and magazines to the thousands of commuters passing through the terminal.
“One night two men were rushing through the crowded station to catch a train. One was fifteen or twenty yards in front of the other. It was Christmas eve. Their train was scheduled to depart in a matter of minutes.
“The first man turned a corner and in his haste to get home to a Christmas cocktail party plowed right into the little crippled boy. He knocked him off his stool, and candy, newspapers, and gum were scattered everywhere. Without so much as stopping, he cursed the little fellow for being there and rushed on to catch the train that would take him to celebrate Christmas in the way he had chosen for himself.
“It was only a matter of seconds before the second commuter arrived on the scene. He stopped, knelt, and gently picked up the boy. After making sure the child was unhurt, the man gathered up the scattered newspapers, sweets, and magazines. Then he took his wallet and gave the boy a five dollar bill. ‘Son,’ he said, ‘I think this will take care of what was lost or soiled. Merry Christmas!’
“Without waiting for a reply the commuter now picked up his briefcase and started to hurry away. As he did, the little crippled boy cupped his hands together and called out, ‘Mister, Mister!’
“The man stopped as the boy asked, ‘Are you Jesus Christ?’
“By the look on his face, it was obvious the commuter was embarrassed by the question. But he smiled and said, ‘No, son. I am not Jesus Christ, but I am trying hard to do what He would do if He were here’” (American Opinion, Dec. 1971, pp. 13–14).

One cool, misty morning last October, Don stood near the gigantic rocket, talking to the Mia Maids and teachers from his own ward. One of them was his daughter Lisa. He had just given them a tour of one of the simulators he used in training for the Skylab 3 flight. They had learned the function of the various gauges and switches, discussed how men work in weightlessness, talked about emergency procedures. They had sat in chairs just like those the astronauts would use and marveled at the incredible investment of time and training a person must make to take his or her place in one of those seats.
Now Brother Lind told them a little bit about the Saturn V rocket and the Apollo mission.
Then he talked to them about another journey, another mission, the one all mortals undertake, about the other mission control, and about the training that can get mortal adventurers home safely with their mission fulfilled.
“If we’ve learned anything in the space program,” he said, “it’s that we don’t want to make emergency decisions during an emergency. We want to think ahead of time about all the kinds of things that might come up and have preplanned decisions, which we call the mission rules, on what we’re going to do. When you go off to college and get invited to a fraternity rush party, and somebody shoves a glass of beer or a cocktail into your hand, if you have never thought about whether you believe in the Word of Wisdom, that’s far too late. Or if some guy pulls into a dark, country lane with you, that is not the time to start deciding if you believe in chastity. You should have decided that a long time beforehand. When we train for a flight we practice our procedures for every possible emergency through lifelike simulations. Then if a real emergency comes up we already know exactly what to do. So you’d better review your lovers’ lane procedures before you get there, or what you’re going to do in the military base before you get off the base and some new buddy says, ‘Come on with me. I’ll take you to a great place.’
“In life you’re going to get in these tight situations where, in a sense, you’re drastically alone. There may be 50 other people at the fraternity rush party, but boy, if you’ve never turned down your first cocktail, you’re going to feel all alone, and it’s going to be your background and your training and what you’ve thought out ahead of time that’s going to get you through some of those critical things.”
Don couldn’t be with them long, because he had many duties, but the young men and women had been dismissed from school till after lunch, so they took a tour of the visitors’ center, tracing the U.S. space program from the very beginning right up to the present. But although their heads were full of lunar buggies and Gemini capsules, they went away that day with an increased understanding that their own mission was far more important than anything that would ever come out of NASA.

Institute has made missionary work easier for Kimberly Pace. She had been trying to get her nonmember stepsister, Missy Shirley, to go to church with her ever since junior high. But with no success.
When Kimberly arrived at A&M, she enrolled at the institute. “I really liked it here,” she says, “and it really seemed to me institute would be something Missy would like too. So I invited her.”
The invitation couldn’t have come at a better time. Missy had been looking for a religious extracurricular activity. “My main goal was to learn,” Missy says. A lot of the religious groups she had visited were mainly social groups, or if they had lessons, the teachings were vague. But when Kimberly told Missy about institute, “It sounded like a pretty well-rounded activity,” Missy says. Institute had meaningful lessons as well as social events.
Missy ended up going to institute classes and activities with Kimberly for the rest of the semester, and over Christmas break she even asked if she could return. “Institute is a little closer to home in my heart than some of the other places I visited,” Missy says.
But Missy isn’t the only one to gain from her institute activity. Her interest “has kept me going,” Kimberly says. “I wouldn’t have gone this much without her. And when I worry about her it brings me closer to God.”

One of my greatest struggles before my mission was viewing pornography, and I was determined not to return to my pornography habit after I came home. But unfortunately, I gave in to that temptation again.
I felt miserable. I would lie awake at night, thinking about all the mistakes I’d made. But through all the pain, as I prayed for help and forgiveness, I always felt the Spirit remind me of a simple truth: with the Savior, my weakness could become strengths. I didn’t have to be defined by my weaknesses.
As I’ve continued turning to the Lord for help, I’ve learned four valuable lessons that help me keep striving:
When we draw closer to the Savior, we can feel peace.
Studying the scriptures helps me love Jesus Christ more. And studying general conference messages about repentance and the Savior’s Atonement always helps me understand that there is nothing in this earthly journey that He cannot heal or understand. We can draw near to Him throughout our healing process and our efforts to improve.
Do not be afraid of talking to your bishop about your weakness.
Remember, our bishops are set apart and hold priesthood keys that can help us deepen our connection to the Savior and access His Atonement. They can help us ease our burdens and find the help we need to overcome our weaknesses.
President Jeffrey R. Holland, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught young adults that “repentance is the way we get a fresh start; … Life is difficult enough without carrying a pack of mistakes on your back—all day, every day, all night, every night. Unload that. … Christ gave His very life in order that you could be free to do that.”
Seek out a professional if you need more help.
By visiting a psychologist, I received medical help and tools to help me build better habits. I felt the Lord helping me be motivated and have the strength to do things I once thought were too difficult.
Spend time in holy places.
Attending institute, worshipping in the temple, and going to church help me focus on the Savior and what He can do for me. When you stand in holy places, you will deepen your connection to the Savior and His sustaining and healing power.
When teaching about making changes in our lives, Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “With time, we will feel the anguish of our sorrow subside, taking ‘away the guilt from our hearts’ [Alma 24:10] and bringing ‘peace of conscience’ [Mosiah 4:3].”
Although I am still learning to manage my weaknesses, I know the Lord is aware of my daily efforts. So I keep focusing on daily repentance, keeping my covenants, and moving forward.
My hope and faith are in the Savior. I don’t know when I will completely overcome my weakness with pornography, but one thing I do know is that if I keep striving to turn away from it and repent when I struggle, I will not be denied any blessing. As Brother Bradley R. Wilcox, First Counselor in the Young Men General Presidency, taught: “Worthiness is not flawlessness. Worthiness is being honest and trying.”
Heavenly Father loves us, and Jesus Christ is our help and relief. We are valuable to Them. They know of our difficulties and afflictions, and Their arms of mercy are extended to each one of us. I am grateful for the chance I have had to be molded and loved by God and His Son.
Allow Jesus Christ to help you in your pain. Receive His correction and direction. And remember that He loves us perfectly.
Through Him, we can find healing and forgiveness.

It was the first time I’d been able to drive my family’s car to work in weeks. When I pulled into the parking lot, I failed to notice how inappropriately fast I was driving. I thought a one-handed parking job would be rather impressive.
Crunch!
I was wrong.
The car next to me jolted from the impact.
“You just hit that car!” I yelled at myself.
My forehead sunk to the dashboard in despair. I felt like such an idiot.
Had anyone seen? I looked around but didn’t spot anybody. My heart was thumping in my chest. I threw open the door and ran around the front of my car to survey the damage. I examined the front bumper and right panel carefully but saw no sign anything had happened.
Then I turned and looked at the new Toyota Camry I had hit. On the left, back panel there was a small dent where some of the shiny green paint had come off.
I scanned the parking lot again. No one was around. I’d heard kids at school talking about dinging cars and just taking off. It happens to everyone.
“I could just leave, and no one would ever know,” I thought. “If it ends up costing very much I won’t have enough money to take my vacation to Europe in a couple of months. These people probably have tons of money anyway, and I’ve been waiting my whole life for this trip.”
I clutched my wad of keys and gave my predicament a little more thought. I could see my forehead wrinkled with indecision in the reflection of the car window. I took a deep breath and knew it didn’t matter that no one would know. I would know. I could take off and avoid having to pay for the damage I had caused, but I wouldn’t be able to escape denting my soul.
I took out my planner and a pen and wrote a note to stick on the car’s windshield.
“I’m sorry I hit your car. Here’s my name, number, and e-mail address. Please contact me so I can pay for the damage.”
I walked into work feeling sick to my stomach. If I’d done the right thing, why did I feel so awful?
The owners of the car called me that night. I felt embarrassed and angry at myself and almost choked when they told me it was going to cost $800 to get the panel replaced. How was that possible? It took me months to make that much money at my part-time job. I knew I could kiss my vacation plans good-bye.
Even though I felt horrible about what had happened, I never regretted my decision. It felt good to know my integrity was worth more to me than $800 and a little embarrassment.
I learned that honesty is sometimes just between Heavenly Father and me. Honesty is about doing the right thing when nobody is watching and then facing the uncomfortable consequences afterward. I could have escaped the monetary consequences of my mistake but not without cheapening my integrity. I know Heavenly Father is proud of me for keeping my soul dent-free.
By Allyson Taylor

Six-year-old John sat intently listening in Primary as two missionaries talked to the children about missionary work. They explained that Jesus Christ wants every member of the Church to tell people about His true Church.
The missionaries told the children that they were not too young to be missionaries. They could give a copy of the Book of Mormon to relatives or friends who didn’t belong to the Church. And they could also invite them to church or ask them if they would like to have the missionaries teach them about the gospel.
The missionaries asked the children to think of someone they would like to tell about the true Church. Then they challenged the children to talk to that person about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that week.
John knew exactly whom he wanted to tell about the Church. He loved Grandma Linford very much and wanted her to know about Jesus Christ’s true Church. Grandma did go to church, but not to the church that John and his family went to. He thought carefully about how to ask Grandma to come to church with him.
A few days later, John and his family drove to Grandma’s house. Grandma greeted John and his two sisters, Rachel and Rebecca, with hugs. Soon everyone was busy talking and helping get dinner ready. John couldn’t wait until after dinner to ask his question; it was too important. He whispered to Grandma: “Could I talk to you alone for a minute? I have a very important question to ask you.”
Wiping her hands and looking deep into John’s eyes, she said: “Of course. Let’s go into the living room.”
As Grandma sat down, John’s heart started pounding. Would Grandma listen to his question? Would she come to church with him? He was trying to do what the missionaries had suggested. He had to be brave enough to tell others about Jesus Christ.
“Grandma, will you come to my church sometime?” John asked.
“Well, Sundays are pretty busy days for Grandpa and me, but we’d be happy to go to your church with you,” Grandma said.
“That’s great,” John said. “We belong to the true Church and I want you and Grandpa to belong to the true Church too. We have a prophet and the Book of Mormon and CTR rings.”
Suddenly, John thought he had said too much because Grandma got tears in her eyes. Then she hugged John, kissed him on the cheek, and thanked him for telling her about his Church and inviting her to come. Before Grandma could get another word out, John asked her if she would read the Book of Mormon and listen to the missionaries.
“You are the best missionary ever,” Grandma said. “I love you so much!” Then she hugged him again. Grandma asked John what ward he went to. John said the Third Ward. Grandma said that she and Grandpa went to the 11th Ward. Grandma asked John what church he belonged to. He said, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Grandma said that she and Grandpa belonged to that same church too. John looked confused. Grandma explained that there are thousands of wards all around the world and each one is part of Jesus’s true Church. Not all of Jesus’s followers could fit in one building, but they could all learn His true teachings in a ward where they live. She told John that after dinner they could drive to see the sign in front of her ward building that said “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” It looked just like the sign at John’s ward building.
John hugged Grandma and said, “Oh, Grandma, I’m so thankful that we are both members of Jesus’s true Church!”

One message of this parable is that God expects us to magnify the abilities we have been given, but He does not want us to compare our abilities to those of others. Consider this insight provided by the 18th-century Hasidic scholar Zusya of Anipol. Zusya was a renowned teacher who began to fear as he approached death. His disciples asked, “Master, why do you tremble? You’ve lived a good life; surely God will grant you a great reward.”

Zusya said: “If God says to me, ‘Zusya, why were you not another Moses?’ I will say, ‘Because you didn’t give me the greatness of soul that you gave Moses.’ And if I stand before God and He says, ‘Zusya, why were you not another Solomon?’ I will say, ‘Because you didn’t give me the wisdom of Solomon.’ But, alas, what will I say if I stand before my Maker and He says, ‘Zusya, why were you not Zusya? Why were you not the man I gave you the capacity to be?’ Ah, that is why I tremble.”

Martha bested her husband, Angus Cannon, in a race for the Utah State Senate in 1896, and it was the talk of Salt Lake City.
But according to published reports, it didn’t upset her relationship with Angus. “As Mr. and Mrs. Cannon are not at all worried over the latter’s election to the state senate,” observed an article in the Salt Lake Herald, “it is needless for anyone else to be apprehensive over the effect of that fact upon their domestic affairs.” The article went on to state, “Nothing that has transpired in Utah shows greater advancement in civilization than the election of women to the legislature.”
Martha ran as the Democratic candidate and won by “a neat little majority of 4,000 votes.” She became America’s first female state senator on November 3, 1896, and served one four-year term.
In an interview that appeared in the Salt Lake Herald, Martha declared: “I do seem to be a sort of milestone, don’t I? Well, I will have to try to live up to my privileges.” Her humility and hard work helped set a high standard and buoy other women, stretching to our day.

On June 23, 2009, the Philippines experienced a typhoon. That afternoon, our area was placed under a severe storm warning. The rest of that day and into the night, we heard something banging on our rooftop. When my son asked what it was, I told him it was our santol tree being whipped by the wind.
I regretted not picking the santol’s sweet fruit a day earlier, as I had planned. But my mother had told me the fruit wasn’t ripe yet and to leave it alone.
At 5:00 a.m. I went outside to look at the tree, fearing to see all the fruit on the ground. I couldn’t see into the tree—it was still dark outside—but I did see four small fruits scattered around our backyard.
An hour later I again inspected the tree. To my delight I saw many big, yellow-green fruit still clinging to the branches. Collecting those that had fallen, I noted that two of them had brownish lesions at the bottom. Black speckles discolored the other one, and the last was misshapen and warty in appearance.
I had expected the bigger, heavier fruit to have fallen; they were twice as big as the ones I collected. But there they were: still securely hanging on to the tree.
Illustration by Allen Garns
As I thought about the experience, I concluded that we are much like the two kinds of santol fruits—the ones that fell and the ones that held on. We too could fall when buffeted by the windy trials of life if we aren’t holding firm to the tree of life, our Savior Jesus Christ (see 1 Nephi 8:10; 11:8–9, 20–23).
The fruits that fell from our santol tree were weak with disease, not able to withstand the wind. The ones that remained on the tree survived because they were healthy and strong. If we don’t keep ourselves spiritually strong and healthy—learning from the scriptures and the living prophets, keeping the commandments, serving others—we too might fall when the adversary brings his forces against us.
The moment the tender fruits stopped drawing on the strength of the santol tree, their maturation stopped. So too the moment we separate ourselves from Christ, the true vine, our spiritual progress stops (see John 15:1; 1 Nephi 15:15).
Sometimes too we need to bend with the wind. Trials are part of mortality, and a humble spirit helps us accept the will of God in hard times. Humility helps us repent of our sins, forgive others, and forget offenses.
Allied with humility is patience. If we are patient in our trials, if we hold on to our faith a little longer, the answers we seek may come. Sooner or later the Savior will calm the storm. Peace and deliverance will come. If we remain obedient and faithful, nothing can separate us from the love of God (see Romans 8:38–39).

Weeks went by, and in our history class, with the same teacher, we began to study the ancient civilizations of America.
One night while doing my homework I felt the strongest desire to speak in class again about the Book of Mormon. I knelt in prayer and asked Heavenly Father to grant me an opportunity to do so. After praying, I felt I should again prepare a discourse on the Book of Mormon.
The next day as Mrs. Protschka began class I raised my hand. But before I could say anything, she looked at me and said, “Yes, Robert. Last night when I was preparing my lesson for today, I suddenly thought of you, and wondered if you wouldn’t have anything else to tell us about the Book of Mormon?”
This time I focused mainly in Christ’s visit to the ancient Americas. I quoted from a book which related the legend of the Great White God Quetzalcoatl. The similarity between Christ and this Indian God was obvious. Again, I told my friends and teacher that Christ had indeed visited the people in the Americas; he had indeed taught them the gospel.
At the conclusion of my speech, Mrs. Protschka wrote on the blackboard: “The Book of Mormon is the best theory of how the ancient civilizations of America came to be,” and asked us to write it down in our notebooks. What a triumph! I felt like jumping for joy. God hears and answers prayers. He is indeed a God of miracles. And he knows how to soften the hearts of men for his purposes.

Whenever a prayer is offered on a date, whether kneeling in your home or in the mountains, the important thing is to have faith and be in tune so that after your prayer is offered you are prepared to listen for and expect an answer. This is beautifully illustrated by the testimony of a young girl who attended summer camp. During her camping experience it was suggested by one of the leaders that the girls might want to find a private spot in nature where they could be by themselves and talk with God. Some weeks later in a fast and testimony meeting, Becky stood up and told about how she had found a private spot, knelt down in a quiet, wooded area surrounded by tall pines and a few quaking aspens, and offered a simple prayer: “Father in heaven, do you know I’m here?” She went on to tell how she waited and waited, and as a breeze fluttered the leaves, she opened her eyes to see the rays of sun filter through the trees. She said a feeling came over her, and with deep emotion these were her words, “You may not think it was anything, but I knew He knew I was there.”

As you seek earnestly for direction you will want to remember the admonition given in the Doctrine and Covenants: “Be thou humble; and the Lord thy God shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers.” (D&C 112:10.) And finally, in paraphrasing the words of Becky’s testimony regarding prayer, “There may be some who will not think it is anything, but you will know that He knows that you are there.”

“Remember the year Dad wanted our photo taken in the mountains? He thought a background of snow and pine trees would be perfect.”
I remembered. The day we headed to the mountains, a full-scale blizzard was blowing in. The temperature was about 12 degrees, and our car slid off the road on the way home. If you look closely at the photo from that year, you can see the blue tinge to our lips, as we shivered in front of the camera.
“The year we almost died for the Christmas photo,” Lucy recalled glumly.

As we moved forward in our relationship, Annie (my wife) and I agreed on a few things. The first was that there was no easy escape clause in our marriage. Divorce wasn’t an option unless infidelity or abuse were involved. We agreed that everything else could be worked out. We also recognized that the behavior patterns we had seen in our homes growing up didn’t work. We needed a better way: that way is the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Because Annie and I had both previously been endowed, temple attendance was an important part of our courtship. We went regularly and enjoyed the Spirit together. We started studying the Book of Mormon together. This formed a good basis for our discussions about what we wanted to create in a marriage.
The same month that my wife and I got engaged, the Church released the proclamation on the family, which counsels, “Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.”2
Similarly, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) in speaking of the increase in divorces throughout the world, identified one major reason: “It appears to me that there are some obvious reasons that account for a very high percentage of these problems. I say this out of experience in dealing with such tragedies. I find selfishness to be the root cause of most of it.”3
It’s easy to blame our spouse for problems, especially the small annoyances that bubble up with daily living. If we concentrate on those problems, they can grow into huge divisions that can sink a marriage.4 I’ve often found that selfishness makes those frustrations grow. Knowing this has helped me to think more about Annie and her needs and helps me to ignore minor annoyances.
We have now been married for 22 years. It hasn’t always been easy. Annie and I have had the normal relationship bumps. There have been difficulties over the years. But because of our commitment to the relationship and a willingness to turn to the Lord for answers, we have grown together. As different situations and questions have arisen, we have been able to turn to the scriptures, the teachings of the prophets, and prayer to find solutions.
The average length of a first marriage that ends in divorce is nine years (in the USA).5 Because Annie and I built our marriage after the manner the Lord has shown us, we beat those odds. I’m glad we didn’t let fear of the world we were raised in stop us. There’s always more work to do, but we are both confident that our marriage will continue to improve through the years to come.

Illustration by Red Hansen
While teaching and serving many wonderful people in the Texas Fort Worth Mission, I often reflected on my blessed life. I marveled particularly at seven of my experiences, which I consider to be miracles.
First, I survived my early life, which started out in the humblest of circumstances. I was born on the dirt floor of my mother’s hut in Dessie, Ethiopia. Mom was the only relative I ever knew, and she built our eight-foot (2.4 m) dome-shaped hut by herself, using sticks and mud that she covered with grass and leaves. Our community had no running water and no restroom facilities. Illness and death ran rampant in our kebele, or neighborhood. Food was very hard to find and impossible for us to purchase. My mother and I never knew a day without hunger.
When I was four, my mother became deathly ill. With her last bit of effort, we trudged to a hospital, where my beloved, weary mom died. The hospital staff saved me from life in the streets and death by starvation by arranging for me to live in an orphanage in the city of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia’s capital.
The second miracle came as my life changed dramatically. In this orphanage I lived in a clean building, slept in a real bed, and ate all the food I wanted. Other orphans had also experienced the loss of a loved one, and they taught me how to deal with the loss of my mother. In the evenings we gathered to sing songs in English and pray in Amharic, our mother tongue. We prayed for each other and asked God to bless us to be adopted into “nice, kind, loving homes.” Both the music and the prayers impacted my life in a huge way. I never quit praying.
Third, I was introduced to the missionaries and the Church when I was eight. I was invited to see the dedication of the first LDS Church building in Ethiopia on Sunday, November 30, 2003. At the dedication I felt the powerful influence of the Holy Spirit, and the missionaries in attendance radiated joy, happiness, and that same powerful spirit. I remember thinking that I wanted to be just like them. But I had no idea how I could ever reach this goal.
The fourth miracle came soon after. A family in the United States adopted me. My new father picked me up from the orphanage and took me home. We started the process of becoming acquainted, and I began to settle into my new environment.
Numerous challenges surfaced immediately upon my arrival. Everywhere I went people laughed at my English. My limited education caused problems in school. I prayed for help, and then I worked harder and smarter to close the knowledge gap, especially with English. Once again Heavenly Father answered my prayers. Two years later I proudly skipped a grade.
Then my home life fell apart. Prayers to the Lord, high personal goals, and a deep desire to succeed carried me through that extremely tough time. Finally, with a social worker’s help, my father and I agreed to terminate the adoption. This was a time for prayer, patience, faith, and help from Heavenly Father.
Now 15 years old, I went to live with a foster family for about a year. That was when the fifth miracle came. While sleigh riding with two friends, I met an LDS family with two nice daughters. During the ride home, one of the daughters spoke up, saying, “I think the Lord wants us to adopt Ephrem Smith.” Remarkably, the other three members of the family had also received the same inspiration. The father worked with the Department of Social Services, and soon I moved to my new home. From the very beginning my amazing new father gave me agency. For example, he explained that their family goes to church on Sundays. He allowed me to choose to join them or stay home; he said that they still would love me if I chose not to attend church. I chose to attend church, and I have since made many other righteous decisions.
Miracle six came as I received a testimony of the gospel. One Sunday I sat in sacrament meeting singing “I Stand All Amazed” (Hymns, no. 193). Huge tears began running down my cheeks as I received a personal testimony that Jesus is the Christ and that the Church is His Church.
Finally, nine years later, I knew how to become like those missionaries! The missionary age was now 18, but my adoption had not yet been finalized. I waited seven long months until my adoption was completed. Finally, my missionary papers could be submitted. Four days later I received my mission call. In just one week the Lord blessed me with final adoption papers and a mission call. I treasure both papers exceedingly! They are my seventh miracle. Yes, indeed, it took many miracles along the way from that mud hut in Ethiopia to my treasured mission.

Dian Thomas and her four brothers grew up learning to love the outdoors. Her father was a forest ranger, and the family lived at a ranger station outside of Monticello, Utah.

For Dian it was a wonderful childhood. She and her brothers had a huge area for their projects. One of their favorites was an elaborate chipmunk trap. They learned about how the little creatures built their nests, how they hybernated in the winter, and how they raised their young. If Dian and her brothers wanted to learn about something, they examined the real thing. If they wanted to learn about beehives, there were beehives to observe. “I learned by doing,” said Dian.

Dian’s mother encouraged their projects. “Once we told my mother we wanted a swimming pool. We got some old canvas, and it took Mom a week to sew those old tarps together. We melted wax and colored it blue and painted it on the canvas to make it waterproof. We put water in it, let the sun warm it, and we had our swimming pool. Our mother went along with us and sometimes beyond in helping us create our ideas.”

My little brother Patrick is a pain! Patrick is a pest. At least, that’s what I used to think. This morning I found Patrick sitting on my bedroom floor surrounded by lots and lots of potting soil, lots and lots of flowerpot pieces, and three messed-up marigolds.
Just a few minutes earlier, that potting soil, those pieces of flowerpot, and the three marigolds all added up to one wonderful Mother’s Day gift. But not anymore.
The moment Patrick saw me, all he could say was, “Uh-oh, Kwissie. Uh-oh.”
Patrick is almost three, and he still can’t say his Rs. I can sure say mine, and boy did I ever say them to Patrick.
I said, “Patrick! You just ruined my Mother’s Day present. You are in really, really big trouble!”
Mother’s Day is tomorrow, and I had been all ready for it. My class had made Mother’s Day gifts at school. First we decorated flowerpots. Mine was beautiful. It said, “To the very best mom in the world,” and it had bunches of bright blue butterflies fluttering all over it. (I’m really good at drawing butterflies.) Next we filled our flowerpots with potting soil. Then we poked three holes in the soil, put a marigold seed into each hole, and filled the holes up again. We watered our plants every other school day, and we waited and watched until our marigolds finally appeared.
My teacher, Ms. Stockton, says that growing things takes a lot of patience, and she is right. Everyone in my class cheered when our marigolds began to bloom. My marigolds were bright yellow and made me think of sunshine. But now my perfect present was ruined!
“Uh-oh, Kwissie,” Patrick said again. “Sowwy, sowwy.”
“Well, you should be,” I said, glaring at him.
That’s when Patrick started to howl. Mom came racing into my bedroom.
“What’s going on, Krissie? What’s this mess?” she demanded.
“This m-m-mess,” I said, trying to swallow the lump in my throat, “this m-m-mess is your M-m-mother’s Day present. Happy M-m-mother’s Day, M-m-mom.” Then I started howling right along with Patrick.
It took Mom a while to calm us down. When she finally did, I told her all about her Mother’s Day present and how it took lots and lots of patience and lots and lots of work to get those marigolds to grow. “Now look at them,” I sobbed.
“Hmmm,” Mom said, giving me a hug. “Marigolds sound a lot like little brothers.”
“What?” I whimpered.
“Little brothers,” Mom said, “need lots of patience and lots of care to help them grow up too.”
“But, Mom—” I said. And before I could say another word, Patrick crawled onto my lap, wrapped his chubby arms around my neck, and said, “Don’t cwy, Kwissie. I gwow up.”
Well, that did it. Mom and I started to giggle, and then Patrick joined in. Before we knew it, all three of us were laughing and hugging right in the middle of that big Mother’s Day mess, and it felt great!
“This feeling is the best Mother’s Day present ever,” Mom said. “I love it.”
I grinned. “Me too.”
“Me. Me,” Patrick added.
I used to think my little brother was a pest. But then I realized … What was I thinking? I love my little brother!

When I was 20, I went into the army. In basic training, I was exposed to many things I had been warned against. I was very grateful for the teachings I had received at home and in Primary. They were a lifesaver for me. I saw some young men who changed their way of life in the army and who chose not to follow God’s teachings. After basic training, one of these young men talked to me privately. He was sobbing because he had picked up a lot of bad habits, and now he had to go home and he didn’t want to face his parents. I was grateful I had been prepared to face those challenges and had remained faithful to the truths I had been taught.