Gospel Story Finder

For centuries, righteous women have been stepping forward to join the cause of Christ. Many of you have only recently been baptized; your covenants are fresh in your hearts, your sacrifices still tender. As I think about you, I am reminded of Priscilla Staines from Wiltshire, England. Nineteen-year-old Priscilla joined the Church in 1843. Alone. She had to steal away in the night to be baptized, because of the persecutions of her neighbors and the displeasure of her family. She wrote: “We waited until midnight … and then repaired to a stream of water a quarter of a mile away. Here we found the water … frozen over, and the elder had to chop a hole in the ice large enough for the purpose of baptism. … None but God and his angels, and the few witnesses who stood on the bank with us, heard my covenant; but in the solemnity of that midnight hour it seemed as though all nature were listening, and the recording angel writing our words in the book of the Lord.”
When young Priscilla, our British convert of 1843, crossed the Atlantic, she was befriended by a woman the age of her mother. This older sister also felt the fire of covenants she had made. When they docked at the wharf in Nauvoo, she was by Priscilla’s side. Together, bold and believing, they joined with the Saints of God.
Holiness prompts the words “Here am I; send me.” When Priscilla Staines made her midnight covenant in those icy waters, she stepped forward into a new life, clothes nearly frozen yet heart warmed with joy. “There was no turning back,” she said. “I … set out for the reward of everlasting life, trusting in God.”

How exact is scientific research and exploration? We often think of it as being very precise and correct, yet in the first stages of most new discoveries this is not always the case. A good example is the unusual discovery made by astronomer Charles Kowal of the Hale Observatories on Palomar Mountain in California on October 18, 1977. On that date Mr. Kowal spotted an object on a photograph taken with the 48-inch Schmidt telescope. He determined that the object was orbiting the sun much like the other planets of the solar system.
After alerting other astronomers of his finding, events moved quickly. The very next day Mr. Kowal located the object again on another photograph. Shortly thereafter an astronomer at the University of Arizona found the object in photographs made October 11 and 12, after which a student at the California Institute of Technology photographed the same object November 3 and 4.
A quick calculation of its orbit then helped Mr. Kowal to locate the object on a photograph taken in 1952, while two other scientists identified it on photographs taken in 1943, 1941, 1936, and 1895. Indeed, on the 1941 photograph the object was even singled out and marked with an arrow. However, since it was Mr. Kowal who determined that the object was circling the sun, he was the one who earned the recognition of being its “discoverer.”
But how does this relate to the correctness of scientific discoveries? For one thing, when it was first discovered the object was thought to be circling the sun in an orbit located between Earth and Venus. Later investigations, however, proved it to be located between Saturn and Uranus. The time it takes the object to circle the sun was initially thought to be about nine months, so the object was given the name “Fast-Moving Object Kowal.” Subsequent data showed the correct time to be more like 50 years, so its name had to be changed to “Slow-Moving Object Kowal.” Also, early estimates of its size put its diameter at less than one mile; but now it is believed to have a diameter that may exceed 200 miles.
But to return to Object Kowal, what exactly is it? For various reasons scientists are tending to rule out its being a comet or an asteroid, and it is obviously not a moon of any planet. One possible classification is that of a “planetoid” or small planet. Leaning toward this designation, Mr. Kowal has suggested a more permanent name for his “object.” He proposes to call it “Chiron,” after one of the centaurs of Greek mythology. He also feels that there may be even more such objects in orbit about the sun, and that the classification “Centaurian planets” would be appropriate for all of them.

I was born on March 7, 1998, in Congo Town, near Monrovia. Growing up, I attended church regularly with my grandmother in another church. Unfortunately, when she died in 2009 from pressure (hypertension), my church attendance stopped because there was no one around to encourage me about going to church and how to gain salvation.
As I grew older, I became curious about spirituality—how to get salvation and one day go to heaven. That became my goal and wish because my grandmother always told me that heaven is way better than the great America that I wished to visit.
However, I did not attend church again. I later relocated to Brewerville with no involvement in church activities. A big tree had fallen from the family—there was no more support, and everyone had to fight for themselves. I started looking for opportunities to gain an education since my grandmother was no longer around.
My life took many turns, as it does for most people, and through all these experiences, I found myself at a crossroads—searching for something more meaningful.
Later, a young man moved into our community from Nigeria. I found out that he had recently completed his mission and relocated to my community. I enjoyed coming around him because of his strange accent and his stories about the development happening in Nigeria—the beautiful streets and cities.
One day, while we were arguing, one of my colleagues, Amos Bangura, made a statement: “Liberia is a hell, and if you are born and die in Liberia and go to hell, it is a double punishment. Then God is not fair because things are so tough in Liberia.”
The returned missionary, Brother James Kolue, quickly used that statement as an opportunity to teach us about Heavenly Father’s love for all His children—no matter their location, family background, or country. He taught us that God’s love extends beyond our imagination.
After his teaching, I quickly asked him: “Which church are you attending?”
He replied, “I attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Have you heard about this church before?”
I quickly said, “Yes, I sometimes see their missionaries passing by.”
He asked if I would like to learn from the missionaries, and I accepted the invitation. I started meeting with the missionaries. They were friendly and kind, and their message about Jesus Christ and the plan of salvation felt different from anything I had ever heard before.
I spent several weeks learning more about their beliefs and reading the Book of Mormon. There was something about the teachings that resonated deeply with me. I remember the day I prayed for the first time to know if the Church was true, and I felt an overwhelming peace—something I had never felt before.
That was when I knew I had to take the next step.
However, life became tough, and I moved to Logan Town in search of opportunities. There, I met different missionaries and stopped them to explain that I had been learning with missionaries in Brewerville. They contacted the other missionaries and continued my teaching.
The missionaries introduced me to the bishop, who was then Bishop Paul Wrotto. He guided and helped me as I took this new step. Soon after, I was baptized. The moment I emerged from the water, I felt like a new person. My heart was full, my mind clearer, and I was ready to follow the path that Heavenly Father had set for me.
The gospel changed everything in my life, and I felt a strong desire to share it with others—just as the missionaries had shared it with me.
I felt prompted to serve a full-time mission and discussed this with Bishop Wrotto. The decision wasn’t easy. I had doubts about leaving behind the life I knew, especially the part-time job that I struggled to get. But my bishop said two things that remained in my heart:
God knows you personally. “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you” (Matthew 6:33).
You should create time for God. God should not create time for you.
These words kept playing in my mind. I knew it was what I was supposed to do.
I began preparing for my mission, and soon I was called to serve in the Ghana Accra Mission under President and Sister Young. I left my job to fully prepare, but then the unexpected happened: COVID-19.
The pandemic spread rapidly, buildings were shut down, churches were closed, and public gatherings were prohibited. The missionary training center (MTC) was closed, and I was stuck at home—no job, no mission, just frustration.
During this period, I began questioning my decision. But my bishop encouraged me to use the time as an opportunity to study the scriptures and follow the Come, Follow Me program.
Later, we were notified that we would begin online MTC training. Finally, I was blessed to serve in the Ghana Accra Mission.
My mission took me to places where I met incredible people and worked with companions who taught me to be bold in sharing the gospel and patience in helping others find the same joy I had found.
When I returned home, I felt the desire to share the gospel with my family—especially my brother. He had been skeptical when I first joined the Church. He didn’t understand why I was so passionate about it. But instead of forcing him, I decided to live by example.
One evening, I sat down with him and shared my testimony. I told him how the gospel had changed my life. To my surprise, he listened. We discussed the Book of Mormon, the teachings of Jesus Christ, and the Restoration of the gospel. It wasn’t a quick process, but over time he started reading and praying on his own.
Months later my brother made the decision to be baptized. I couldn’t have been happier. I saw him changing, growing, and the same light I once felt began to shine in him.
Eventually, he felt inspired to serve a full-time mission as well. He is currently serving in the DRC Kinshasa West Mission.
It brings me so much joy to see how far he has come. I know he will touch lives and help others find the same peace that comes from knowing Jesus Christ.
The gospel is meant to be shared, and I will continue to share it with those around me—just as I once shared it with my brother.
As I reflect on my journey—from meeting the missionaries, becoming a missionary myself, and helping my brother find his own path—I know that the Lord’s plan is much bigger than we can understand.
I call this story “a journey of faith.”

Rosalene grew up as the youngest child in a large family in Enterprise, a small community in Southern Utah, USA. She had many opportunities to witness the power of faith in Jesus Christ during her years at home and on her mission. After marrying in the temple, Rosalene embarked on a testimony-stretching journey of her own when her husband started a career that would take her farther and farther from home.
After moving to the state of Colorado, Rosalene watched from afar as her mother battled cancer until passing away a few years later.
Images from stock.adobe.com and from Getty Images
“I could have been happy to live in my hometown next to my parents my entire life,” she says. “It broke my heart when I had to grow up and move away. Losing my mom was life-shattering. Even now, not a single day goes by that I don’t miss her.
“I have to believe that there were days when Elizabeth missed her home desperately. But she believed in Jesus Christ and allowed His power to work in her life. That was enough to carry her through. The same power has helped me as I rely on my Heavenly Father for strength, whether or not my earthly family is close by.”

William Poole, a cousin, age 78
“One time my brother and I went up to Uncle George’s halloweening. We were just little boys, and as we got through putting our tic tacs on their windows, a ghost appeared. We ran for home. We lived down the road a quarter of a mile. We forgot to undo the catch on the little gate. We hit the gate and both of us fell down. When we got on our feet again, the ghost had disappeared. I learned later that the ghost was Ezra T. with a sheet over him.

My mother taught me the gospel when I was young, but because my father was not a Church member, I always wondered if I was on the correct path. I never understood why my father had never joined the Church if it really was true. Still, I loved going to Primary and singing the hymns. I also enjoyed when my mother read the scriptures to me, and little by little I began to develop my own testimony.
When I joined Young Women, one of the first goals I made was to share my testimony every fast Sunday. Bearing my testimony became a habit for me and strengthened my desire to increase my knowledge when I was able to enroll in seminary.
My first seminary class covered the Old Testament. That year I not only grew to appreciate and value the Old Testament, but I also learned the importance of temples and family history.
I joined together with other students from my ward and got involved in family history work. We indexed hundreds of names and developed an enormous love for people we knew almost nothing about—just their names and other limited data. Even though I knew that the work we were doing was important, I sometimes felt discouraged and frustrated. I was working so that ordinances could be done for people I did not know, yet I could not reach my own father. He did not understand the importance of what I was doing. I continued praying and fasting that he would be touched.
The following year in seminary we studied the New Testament. One morning after I woke up, I began to read about the Savior in Gethsemane. Tears flowed from my eyes as I realized that the drops of blood He shed were for me. How I wished I had never sinned! The words of Isaiah that I had studied the previous year came into my mind: “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him” (Isaiah 53:5). As I read about the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, my mom came into my room. I shared with her my feelings, my testimony, and my desire for my father to know what I had learned in seminary.
My testimony continued to grow the next year as we read the Doctrine and Covenants. I obtained a testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet. I also decided to follow his example and ask God if the Church is true. Although I already had conviction in my heart, one afternoon I found myself alone and sincerely prayed. As I did, I realized that the testimony I was asking for had been developing as I studied the scriptures and attended seminary.
The Lord opened my mind and my heart that year, and I understood the Doctrine and Covenants as I never had before. I also learned of the great value of souls (see D&C 18:10–16) and began to share my growing testimony with those who did not know about the gospel, including my father.
I knew that studying the Book of Mormon during my final year of seminary would also fortify my testimony. As I truly studied, I felt Heavenly Father’s love for me. The stories inspired me to the point that all I wanted to do was read the Book of Mormon. I began to take the Book of Mormon to school and would read it during my free time. I also began to discuss what I was reading with my father.
One day after a long conversation with my father about the gospel, I challenged him to read all of the Book of Mormon. I testified that, like me, he could receive a testimony.
I am happy to say that my father read the Book of Mormon. When he did, he knew the Church is true and was eventually baptized! My family is now preparing to be sealed in the temple. I know that attending seminary and reading the scriptures helped me develop my own testimony, and I know that they bless families.

Illustration by Dave Bardin
The link jumped out at me from the computer screen. My little brother Ethan’s favorite author was coming to our local library in just a few weeks. Ethan would love this! Imagining his excitement, I clicked the link but then sighed. The event was on a school night—and would be in the way of homework and sleep.
My first impulse was to keep the news to myself. I had early-morning seminary the day after the event and would really need the sleep I’d lose if we went. After arguing with myself for several minutes, a prompting to tell Ethan about it won over.
I called out to Ethan, who ran quickly over to me. “Look who’s coming to the library,” I said while pointing at the computer screen.
Ethan let out a gasp and began dancing wildly around the room. “He’s coming to our library?” he asked. Without waiting for my answer, he hurried to ask Mom’s permission to go. Returning only a few moments later with a yes, he asked, “Are you coming too?”
I still hesitated at the thought of a late night and a tough morning. But the eagerness on Ethan’s face made it impossible for me to disappoint him. “OK,” I said and smiled in spite of myself.
He shouted excitedly as he pumped his fist in the air.
Over the next several weeks, Ethan constantly talked about the author event. He kept trying to think of new ways he could talk about it with his friends, and he asked over and over again how many days were left until it happened.
When the day finally came, I followed Ethan into the library. I couldn’t help but smile as he clutched one of the author’s books in his arms. There was a long line of people, and I worried we’d come too late to get a good seat. Luckily, after some shuffling we found a spot where we could watch the author speak from a video projection.
When the author finished, people flooded out of the room to get in line for the book signing. We had to wait another hour to get to the front of the line, but Ethan finally got his book signed.
Once outside, I glanced at my watch and gulped. It was late.
Ethan turned. “He’s the coolest person in the world,” he said, giving me a toothy grin, “but he’s not as awesome as you are.”
His words hit me so unexpectedly that I almost stopped walking out of pure shock. What I received in return for the sleep I gave up was far greater than any sacrifice I’d made. I’d strengthened my relationship with my brother and also gained a new perspective of myself. I walked away from that library glad to have gone and feeling like I was on top of the world.

Senior Year, High School—While investigating several churches to learn more about Christianity, I have discovered that some churches do not require extremely long periods of schooling to qualify as a minister. I have just visited a Bible college and learned that I can be ordained a minister after four years. After two years I could be assigned as a minister to a church of my own. I decided that I will go to the Bible college next year when I graduate from high school even though it will mean giving up a scholarship to another college. The classes appear interesting, but I sense something is missing from the college. Something seems to be missing in my personal life, too. How long will it take to find peace of mind?
Approaching Graduation—Religion is becoming less important in my life. I’m no longer sure of what I want to do. Deep inside me I feel guilty about something. I get upset at myself when I do wrong. But I still take a drink or smoke a cigarette now and again. After my first drink, my friends in high school were more worried about how it would affect my football playing than how it would affect my religious goals.
Change of Plans—I just received a scholarship to play football at Dodge City College only a few kilometers from my home. I don’t want to go to a college so close to home, but the scholarship will help pay for my studies. I gave up a scholarship offer before when I was planning to become a minister. Those plans will wait.
Summer—I’m working at the Dodge City Recreation Center and playing on a local baseball team. It’s not unusual for me to work all day, travel with the baseball team for a game, return home at 2 A.M. and get up at 7 A.M. to go to work.
What’s Wrong—This summer has been unusual. I haven’t gone to church very much. I read a lot and write a great deal. But religion seems to lack something. But maybe I lack something, too.
The Bible—I still consider the idea of Bible college education because I can have a ministry of my own very quickly. I commented once in Sunday School that we need to return to preaching the Bible. But one man argued that ministers should turn to more modern concerns and use up-to-date interpretations of the Bible. His remarks add to my confusion—religious leaders I know have different opinions about the meaning of the Bible and its place in modern times.
College Begins—I still pray sometimes. A few times I have said, “Show me the way, Lord, if there is one for me.”
Semester Ends—I have to wait till my assigned baptismal date. My first semester of college has ended and I’m on the honor roll as a top student. Last night I lay in my bed thinking how little time I really devoted to my studies. I laughed to myself and thought, “I did this and all without God.”
A Mormon Girl—I met a Mormon girl, Janet, the other night. I thought to myself, “What’s a Mormon?” I’ve investigated many religions but have never heard of this one.
Book of Mormon—I spent the weekend with my family. I asked Mom if she knew anything about Mormons. She said she thought there was a pamphlet in the bookcase. She found it and an old hardback book. I’m reading it now—the Book of Mormon. Mother said it was a Mormon Bible.
After the Date—Janet is the first girl I’ve dated with any regularity in at least six months. Tonight, after our date, we were talking and the subject of religion came up. I told her about my indefinite plans for the ministry and added, “There’s something wrong with every church.”
With confidence she replied, “Not mine.”
“Oh, sure, you tell me about it,” I answered. She isn’t the first girl that has wanted me to be interested in a particular church. But she definitely has a sparkle of purity, a twinkle in her eye.
I told her that I had been studying the Book of Mormon, and she suggested that I talk to the elders. I told her I’d like to sometime.
Following Monday—The strangest thing happened this evening. I work every night at the recreation center, but today when I called in, Mr. Braddock told me they didn’t need me tonight. I didn’t feel like studying, so I telephoned Janet about a date and she told me to come over to her house. The elders were coming. The meeting was arranged before I telephoned her, but on any other Monday night I would definitely have had to work.
The Meeting—While waiting for the elders at Janet’s home, I expected two old men in gray beards and maybe black hats to knock at the door. I was surprised when the elders turned out to be two young men close to my own age. Learning from them was a spiritual experience for me.
My Interview—I was interviewed tonight for baptism. I brought a signed statement from my dad to the elders giving his approval for my baptism. He used to know some Latter-day Saints. He said you have to be a missionary if you join their church. I told the district leader that the discussions were like the lifting of a veil, like I had heard the story before. The gospel contains many teachings that I have come to believe over the years, such as a literal, tangible, Heavenly Father concerned about us. I took the missionary discussions so fast that I have to wait till my assigned baptismal date.
April 27—I was baptized tonight. My family attended the service, as did many of the branch members. This is the cleanest feeling I have known in my entire life. The warm, friendly attitude of the members here is still one of the amazing things about this church.
Few Will Listen—I thought of dozens of my friends who would surely join the Church now. They just needed to learn about it as I had. It’s not like that. I know that most of my friends respect me very much for my high standards, but with others I wonder, as did the Apostle Paul, “Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth?” (Gal. 4:16).
Sacrament Meeting—My family attended the branch’s sacrament meeting today. After the meeting, I went with the elders to my parents’ home for a missionary lesson. After the first discussion Elder Johnson tried to make an appointment to come again and teach my family.
“How about right now?” Mom asked.
So the second lesson was given. Dad had to leave then to do the farm chores. Mom quickly prepared a meal, and about an hour later Dad came back in and ate, and the third lesson was given. Three in one night!
July 27—Tonight I baptized my family. It is three months to the day since I joined the Church. Our family is finally united. As I brought Mom up out of the water, she embraced me and shed tears of joy. We have received life’s greatest blessings.
A Mission Call—I’m so excited! I came home from classes today to find a letter from the First Presidency. Quickly opening it I discovered that I would be going to California. I wept joyously. Feeling so insignificant in the Lord’s sight, I asked, “Why me?” The blessings of God seem so unbelievable. Now, in a week, I will leave on a mission to serve the Lord. I will be a minister.
Temple Sealing—Today I was sealed for time and all eternity to my Mom and Dad.
Temple Marriage—Janet and I were married this morning in the Salt Lake Temple. I thank God that a young woman lived the gospel so completely that I found a noticeable, attracting difference between her and other young people, thus leading me to the gospel. I encouraged my other young brothers and sisters to do the same. The gospel works.

Clint was speechless.
So was everyone else in the congregation for that matter. The warm, tender, emotion-filled quietness was so thick we could practically touch it. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, no one wanted to disturb it. So we sat in silence at Clint’s missionary farewell, while he tried desperately to blink back his tears.
Some people might have been surprised to see Clint, the student-body officer, the lead singer in the band, the enthusiastic basketball player, unable to speak, but it didn’t surprise me at all. I’d seen him at a loss for words more than once.
In fact, he was like that when I first met him. I was about 11 years old, and that summer I’d become a close friend of his sister Lisa. My first contact with Clint came when I called their house to ask Lisa if she wanted to go on a bike ride, and Clint wasn’t exactly verbose then.
“Hi there,” I said. “Is Lisa home?”
“Umph,” a voice said.
“May I speak with her?” I asked, wondering if her dog Clancy had accidentally knocked the phone off the hook and was growling at it.
“Umph,” said the voice, and the grunt was followed by a crash that sounded like the phone had been dropped. Soon Lisa picked up the receiver and greeted me.
“Have you got a Neanderthal butler or what?” I asked.
“Nah—that’s just my brother,” she told me. “He isn’t very articulate today, or any other day really. You know how big brothers are.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. But I really didn’t. All I had was a big sister, and she certainly didn’t have any problems talking on the phone.
When the summer was over, Lisa and I returned to our cross-town schools. We kept in touch, but as far as I knew, her big brother had slipped into oblivion.
He suddenly emerged from it one day several years later when my older sister Karen brought him home—her latest crush. Surprise! Over the last several years, he’d grown tall and thin, and had dark blond hair that just sort of drooped over his head. I’d never noticed his deep, dark brown eyes before. And his vocabulary had improved too. “Lisa and I are old friends,” he said with a smile as Karen began to reintroduce us.
I heard his voice around the house a lot after that, and I was glad. Of all the people my sister dated, he was definitely my favorite. He took the time to drive my friends and me to the beach, he’d visit me at the ice cream parlor where I worked, and he was there to softly console me when I didn’t make the freshman cheerleading squad. And he didn’t just do it to make points with Karen either. He genuinely liked the mischievous adolescent that I was, and he wasn’t embarrassed to show it around his high school friends.
He started coming to our church for the right reasons too. A number of the boys in town would attend just because they were smitten by the local LDS girls. But not Clint. Sure, sometimes he would come to our meetings with Karen, but he began coming with his other LDS friends too. Sometimes he’d even come on his own. “I like the feeling I get there,” he said to me one day. “I know there’s something to this.”
I knew there was something to it too, and I prayed, really prayed, that he would discover what it was.
Clint learned a lot about the gospel. He admired the people in the Church. He read the Book of Mormon, felt of its spirit, and he knew it was true. He had one problem though. Although he could easily talk to everyone around him, when it came to conversing with the Lord, he was speechless. Actually talking to someone he couldn’t see, and having that being respond directly was a foreign concept to him. He didn’t believe God would really pay personal attention to him.
It took a major upheaval in his high school world to help him understand just how important that heavenly communication is. Some of the players on his basketball team were suspended for using drugs, and most of the team, along with most of the school, were convinced that Clint had turned them in. His popularity at school took a nosedive, and he realized just how fickle a crowd can be. He needed to embrace something more solid—something more enduring. He couldn’t base his life on ever-changing popular opinion.
What could he base his life on? Clint decided that the Lord was the only one who could tell him. He drove his battered car up a canyon not far from his house, and, like the account he’d read of Joseph Smith, he dropped to his knees and began, for the first time in his life, to really, sincerely, inquire of the Lord.
After a while, Clint knew. He knew The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the true church of Christ on this earth and that he should be baptized. But that knowledge wasn’t given to him by a thunderous voice or by an angelic chorus. It came to him wordlessly, on a soft breeze that seemed to envelop him with warmth.
He was almost speechless when he called to tell me of his decision to be baptized. About a year later, he was speechless when he rose to thank the patriarch for giving him a wonderful patriarchal blessing. And now, here he was, speechless again as he stood at the pulpit of a chapel that was packed to the rafters with people wishing him well on his mission.
But the silence was a comfortable one. It wrapped us in the same feeling Clint had felt when he went out to pray about the truthfulness of the Church. The Spirit was touching us all.
Through his speechlessness, Clint taught me that some of the most beautiful emotions in this life aren’t communicated by words from mouth to ear, but are communicated by the Spirit from heart to heart.

The Prophet Joseph Smith exemplified kindness in his life to everyone, old and young. One child who benefited from the Prophet’s kindness remembered:
“My older brother and I were going to school, near to the building which was known as Joseph’s brick store. It had been raining the previous day, causing the ground to be very muddy, especially along that street. My brother Wallace and I both got [our feet] in the mud, and could not get out, and of course, child-like, we began to cry, for we thought we would have to stay there. But looking up, I beheld the loving friend of children, the Prophet Joseph, coming to us. He soon had us on higher and drier ground. Then he stooped down and cleaned the mud from our little, heavy-laden shoes, took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped our tear-stained faces. He spoke kind and cheering words to us, and sent us on our way to school rejoicing.”

Janetta looked again at the flickering lights and felt sadness creep in. Her father had left before the temple walls were up. Their family had never had the opportunity to go inside to be sealed together as a family.
The worst of the trouble had started the summer before, when the Prophet Joseph was killed. Everyone was numb from the tragedy. It was as if a cloud of darkness covered their beautiful city—only there weren’t any clouds.
With tears streaming down their cheeks, Sarah and Janetta had stood hand in hand as the bodies of the Prophet and his brother Hyrum passed by in a wagon coming from Carthage. Later, after the bodies had been prepared at the Mansion House, her parents stood in line to view them.
As the sorrow lessened, some of the Saints became confused. Rumors circulated in the city that the Church was doomed. Some predicted that the temple would never be finished. Several men claimed to be the next leader of the Church.
Janetta was troubled by the confusion. “Father,” she asked one day, “what will happen now? Who will lead the Church?”
Her father took her in his strong arms and hugged her. “This Church was true while Joseph lived, and it’s true now that he’s dead. It’s the Savior’s Church, and He’ll provide a leader for us. We’ll listen to the Brethren and follow what they say. There’s a meeting in the grove tomorrow, and Brother Brigham will tell us what’s right.”
The next day the Saints eagerly gathered at the grove. The first speaker was Sidney Rigdon. Janetta listened very carefully, for he claimed to be the proper leader of the Church. He talked on and on. The more he talked, the more she fidgeted and the worse she felt. She looked over at Sarah and caught her eye. When Sarah winked at Janetta, they both tried hard not to giggle,
Finally Sidney Rigdon sat down and Brigham Young closed the meeting. He announced another meeting under the direction of the Apostles at two o’clock.
Janetta and her parents hurried home and put James down for a nap. Leaving a neighbor to watch him, the three hurried back to the second meeting. Even though they were early, the only seats left were way in the back. Janetta was too short to see over people, but she could still hear the speakers.
Brigham Young stood up and began to speak. Hearing him, she felt a peace fill her. Then suddenly she jumped up and craned to see over the heads of the people in front of her. She thought she had heard the Prophet Joseph!
A blind man sitting beside her jumped up too. “That’s Joseph speaking to us. Surely he’s not dead!”
The extraordinary effect lasted only for seconds, but the people knew that Brigham Young had been chosen to lead the Church. They all listened very carefully to every word that he said.
When the meeting was over, Janetta hurried to find Sarah. “Did you hear him?” she asked excitedly. “He sounded just like the Prophet.”
“I not only heard him,” Sarah answered softly, “I saw him. It was like Brother Joseph was standing right there before us.”
The girls were silent for a moment as they reverently thought of what they’d just witnessed.
“I’ll never forget this,” Janetta whispered. “Brother Young is our prophet now. We can safely do everything he tells us to do.”

In 1956, after graduating from Kumamoto University Medical College, he visited Tokyo Women’s Medical College and saw heart surgery being performed.

He was so impressed by it that he decided to become a heart surgeon. It took five years of intensive training. During that time, he visited New York City for research purposes. Before he left Tokyo, one of Brother Nakamura’s friends told him that on his way back to Japan, he should travel across the United States to see Salt Lake City, Utah, and the beautiful Mormon temple.

Although Brother Nakamura was unable to visit Salt Lake City, his friend’s words were influential in changing his life.

“I remembered his reference to Salt Lake City and the Mormons when, in April 1971, two young men came to my home in Kumamoto and said, ‘We are Mormons.’ I was interested in hearing what they had to say; although, as a doctor, I had always thought that I didn’t need religion. I felt there was no need to ask help from Buddha or from God.”

“Our first impressions of the missionaries were good. They were only twenty years old, but they had such a kindly, respectful attitude, and they presented some thought-provoking concepts,” says Brother Nakamura. “I was thinking that perhaps my son and daughter could become like the elders if we listened to what they had to say.”

The missionaries made return visits to the Nakamura home and the entire family listened to the lessons. “Whenever the missionaries asked a question, one of my two children would correctly respond,” remembers Brother Nakamura.

“My wife and I wondered why the children’s responses to the missionaries’ questions were in harmony with the truth, while our answers were rather vague and lacking in comprehension. It made us feel humble. We were moved by the fact that our children could recognize truth.”

The Nakamuras were especially impressed with the emphasis on families. “Families should be the most important part of the home life,” says Brother Nakamura. “It was my hope that by listening to the missionary lessons, our family would become much happier.”

In July 1971, the Nakamuras were baptized, and in September of the same year, Brother Nakamura performed his first heart surgery. “I felt as if the Lord took away my fears and apprehensions,” he says. “I think if the heart surgeon has faith in the Savior, the special power of God helping may be felt.”

As Brother Nakamura gained experience in the Church, the idea of being sealed in the temple and of serving the Lord in that sacred building grew in his heart. Then, in 1973 (about seven years before the Tokyo Temple was dedicated), the Nakamura family had the opportunity to travel to California to be sealed in the Los Angeles Temple.

While traveling to the temple, they almost missed some airline flights and even wondered whether their airplane would arrive safely. But their prayers for a safe journey were answered. Brother Nakamura says he realizes now how important that trip was. “My main goal after that was to spend time in the temple, especially serving with my wife.”

The Nakamuras decided to accept a mission call to temple service. They knew it would mean a complete change in their lives, but to them, it was worth it.

Before their mission call, says Brother Nakamura, he was very busy in his profession and in the Church. He was enjoying his activities as the head of the hospital where he worked, and as the principal of a school of nursing where he was also an instructor. During this time he also served both as a counselor in the mission presidency and as a district president. He received many telephone calls—day and night—from patients who needed his help, which he freely gave.

“In the temple there are no midnight telephone calls,” he says. “The most wonderful thing is that the temple is the house of the Lord. It is peaceful everywhere. Now everything in my daily life is spiritually based. All of the ordinance work in the temple is to serve God.”

“It is a great privilege to act for our dead brothers and sisters,” he says. “As the Lord told us, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me’” (Matt. 25:40).

“When I was working in the hospital and involved in my Church duties, I was gone so many days and nights that my wife got lonely,” says Brother Nakamura. “Now we are working together all the time in a holy place. We are very happy.”

At the conclusion of his mission, says Brother Nakamura, he wants to return to his profession, but not in a government hospital as he was before. Instead, he says, he would like to be a doctor for senior citizens.

“Temple work is also missionary work. It means we serve God,” says Brother Nakamura. “It is the best place to serve, the best place to work, the best place to spend your life.”

Harold Connolly had broken his left arm several times. It was only two-thirds the size of his right. To exercise and build up the smaller arm, he began throwing the hammer back to Boston College’s regular throwers. Soon he was tossing it back farther than they were throwing it, so he entered the event. He later broke the world record and won a gold medal. He made himself strongest where he was weakest.

I ran and ran, trying to get away from it. I ran up the hill by our house and sat down at the base of a giant tree.

The mountains were sucking down the purple and pink clouds and orange sun like pancake batter sucks down an egg. I stopped crying, finally. What was I going to do? Maybe I’d never see my mother again. For the first time I felt alone in the universe—like in the movies when they try to add something in the picture that doesn’t really belong. You can tell it’s fake because its edges are too black. I had black edges; I could feel them.

At the bottom of the hill was a little girl. I was close enough to see the dirt streaked on her face. Even the dirt couldn’t hide her big grin. She had an old car tire and was pushing it up the hill. It broke loose from her and rolled away, then fell over. She went back and picked it up, then started rolling it up the hill again. She couldn’t have been more than four or five. It made me sad to see her tire keep getting away. I was even sadder that she kept patiently picking it up again and rolling it up the hill. I wanted to shout to her: “Little girl, don’t do it, don’t try. It will just keep rolling down the hill. No matter how hard you try, that tire will roll and roll until you’re finally too tired to pick it up again. That’s the way life is.” I was so sad I almost bawled again. I buried my head in my arms. I couldn’t watch anymore.

When I finally looked up, there was a little boy, older than the girl, running down the hill. He reached her and picked up the tire. Both of them began to push. Maybe, I thought … maybe. Both kids just kept pushing that old tire up the hill. If it got away from one of them, the other would catch it before it rolled down the hill. Boy, I wanted those kids to get that tire up the hill! It was such a dumb thing, but right then it was the most important thing in the world. C’mon, kids, roll that tire! C’mon! They kept getting farther and farther up the hill. By the time they reached the top, I was crying again. It was stupid, but I was so glad.

I hadn’t seen the rest of them, but there were nine kids at the top of that hill, including the girl and boy. They all began running down the hill, rolling the tires with them.

“Roller-O! Roller-O! Roller-O!” They shouted again and again as they raced the tires down the hill. “Roller-OOOOOO!”

I closed my eyes and laughed. Maybe there was someone there to help when you needed it after all. I watched those kids for a long time as the gold streaked across the sky to meet the sun. I watched while the purple clouds turned blacker and blacker until it was dark.

“Roller-O!”

When it got dark, the kids’ mom called them in for the night. I got up and walked down the hill. There was a sliver of a yellow moon just rising in the sky. Millions of stars were beginning to shine. I walked into our garden and right there decided to kneel down. The ground was damp. I thought about those kids for a while, then about dad, then about Dan. I started bawling again. Boy, I was sorry I’d yelled at him.

“Dear Father, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went to the show. I’m sorry I yelled at Dan and called him names. I’m sorry I do bad stuff. I wish I didn’t. Father, I’m sorry I said all that stuff. I don’t really hate you the most. I love you—the very most! I really do, and even if you don’t answer my prayer, I’ll wait, forever if I have to.” I started sobbing.

“Heavenly Father, I’m so, so sorry, but it’s hard. Please, God, it’s hard, so hard.” I cried, and the stars came out one by one to watch me.

Something changed. It was like a light that’s slant is bent, just a little different. It was like rays going through a prism: when they hit the right angle, they split into every color making a rainbow. Somehow, I couldn’t explain it. He knew it was hard, and he loved me. I breathed deep and sighed. The stars twinkled in the sky.

After a while I got up, brushed the dirt off my pants, and ran into the house, right past dad and into Dan’s room.

Dan was still sitting on the bed holding that basketball. I didn’t even know if he’d had supper.

I stood there in the doorway until he looked up. I probably looked awful to him, all swollen around the eyes and dirty besides.

Danny jumped up and ran toward me. Before I knew what was happening, we were hugging the breath out of each other. My lungs were bursting, and I was afraid I was cracking his ribs. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t have any tears left. I guess they were just all gone.

Dan sat me down on the bed. He really was good-looking. I loved his big brown eyes.

“Danny, are you glad, now, that we took that record back that one time?”

I knew it was dumb to ask him, but it was important to me.

He shook his head. “Am I glad? Yeah … I don’t know … I guess we’ll see.” He grinned. “Mauri, you know what? You are so weird sometimes.”

I was so glad, just so happy. I picked up Dan’s pillow off the bed and clobbered him; then I ran out the door with Dan right behind me. Boy, oh boy, was I in for trouble.

“No. I had a similar experience at a summer job one year. For a while the rapport with my fellow workers was not great. But after a few days of excusing myself after dinner when the cards came out, one of my fellow workers asked me why I didn’t play. Maybe I avoided the issue, but I said that I enjoyed walking outside or reading a book or writing a letter more. She came with me the next day, and by the end of the summer all of us were eating our lunches outside in the sun, and we became close friends. They have said several times since that summer was more fun and that the days went faster when they used their lunch break to appreciate others and nature.”
Ann Bradley, Age 22Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

“Money and all it can buy are also highly visible here,” comments Caroline Kwok, a Brigham Young University graduate. “I’d say materialism is one of the biggest challenges we face as members. The media is constantly giving the message that we could all be happy if we had the right clothes, the right possessions, enough money.”
And yet, although there are large private homes in Hong Kong, the vast majority of its residents struggle to make enough money to pay for a small apartment in the high-rise concrete communities springing up all over. “Most of our members fit in the lower- to middle-income bracket,” Sister Kwok points out. Sister Kwok, who has a doctorate in education, feels that a key to helping Church members deal with economic challenges is education. Hong Kong children receive a free nine-year education, but admission to schooling beyond that is highly competitive. Sister Kwok opened a night school that caters to Church members who work during the day but want to further their education. The school’s curriculum balances secular knowledge and gospel principles, with an emphasis on thinking skills. “The power to progress and grow is in each one of us,” states Sister Kwok. “We just have to gain access to it with the Lord’s help and with belief in our own abilities.”

Porter is grateful that his parents weren’t easy on him. “They wouldn’t always just help me when I felt like I couldn’t do something,” he says. “I eventually had to do it myself. That’s better than anything.”
His parents didn’t let him off the hook with chores, either. And when your family runs a sheep farm, that means lots of hard work, including moving large sprinkler pipes in the alfalfa fields, feeding the sheep, and helping out during lambing season.
“The first time I moved pipe,” he says, “I got so tired I thought I was going to faint. I got halfway through and just set the pipe down and laid down in the middle of the field. My back was sore for a week, but I was OK from then on.”

I saw that diligence and heard that laughter when, late on a Saturday, I visited with a group of Latter-day Saints in Florida. The volunteers stopped their cleanup labor long enough to let me shake some hands. They said that 90 members of their stake in Georgia had created a plan to join in the rescue in Florida just the night before.
They left Georgia at 4:00 in the morning, drove for hours, worked through the day and into the night, and planned to labor again the next day.
They described it to me all with smiles and good humor. The only stress I sensed was that they wanted to stop being thanked so they could get back to work. The stake president had restarted his chain saw and was working on a downed tree and a bishop was moving tree limbs as we got into our vehicle to go to the next rescue team.

Carlos knows that sacrifice brings blessings.
“My brother Set and I have autism. This made it really hard for me to study in school. Then my mom invited us to read the scriptures in the mornings as a family, and it helped me so much. It gave me a boost in school and helped me be self-sufficient.
“Another time, I didn’t want to go to a youth conference because I was really busy with a class in school. But I went, and I felt like I was blessed to do better in the class than I thought I would. Because of these experiences, I postponed my university studies and am preparing to go on a mission. I know that sacrifice will help me again.”

Ryan: When I was about 12 years old I went to a friend’s house and found him and a bunch of neighborhood boys gathered around the computer. I joked, “Hey, are you guys looking at pornography?”
They said, “How did you guess? Come check this out.”
That was the beginning of a problem in my life. I soon began using our family computer to find more and more images.

I felt relief when I stopped pretending. Sharing the burden with my bishop and my family meant I no longer had to deal with this addiction alone. Now I hold on to this support system.
A problem that dominated my youth could not be overcome overnight. This road has been long and hard—and it continues. It isn’t enough anymore to look happy. I want to be happy. I am coming to know Christ and the Atonement with much deeper and more personal meaning. The Atonement gives me the strength I need so my self-confidence and self-respect grow step by step each day.
I was honest with my bishop. And when my dad talked to me about the Internet sites I was visiting, I was honest with him too. We worked on the problem together. We decided not to have the Internet in our home for a while. That was a big help.
I’m turning 16 soon, and I’m glad I decided not to let pornography control my life. I feel better about myself, and I think about young women differently than I did before. With my bishop’s help, I’m preparing now for the temple, a mission, and a great marriage one day.