Gospel Story Finder

My first step to finding meaning in my life was to stay connected with the Saints and missionaries in Hungary. For some time, I lived for preparation days when I would receive emails from Sister Nestor and my MTC companions. I have to admit; sometimes it wasn’t easy to read about my companions’ missions or to speak with the Hungarians that I missed so badly. But as I look back now, I realize that it was critical to my healing to hear about the miracles happening there.

My little brother, gently prompted by my intuitive mother, convinced me to start indexing. Initially I did batches of names to appease him, but one day a registry of Hungarian names popped up on my screen. The Spirit swept over me and taught me that I was still able to help bring Hungarian souls to Christ—just on the other side of the veil!

After the mission, all of my pre-mission life goals seemed unattainable with my new health condition. But with time I realized that there were goals I could accomplish while lying down. I called goals such as reading Jesus the Christ “horizontal goals” and worked on them daily.

One of my pre-mission life goals was to graduate from college. While attending classes would have been difficult with my illness and the constant doctor appointments, my dad encouraged me to take online classes from Brigham Young University Independent Study. Not only was this an achievable horizontal goal, but I also realized that maybe I was capable of doing more pre-mission goals than I had previously thought possible.

One day at church, a sister walked up to my mom and said, “Do you know that Destiny can serve an online indexing mission?” This unexpected question was an answer to my prayers. I was able to serve the Lord for nine months as an indexing support Church-service missionary. This was a mission I could do!*

As I became better at managing my health condition, I began studying at a community college while doing my online mission. I was asked to teach mission preparation at the nearby institute. Teaching helped me realize that my enthusiasm for missionary work had not waned and that even my short mission had provided me with many experiences that could be valuable for my students.

After successfully attending a semester of college near my home, I moved to Utah, USA, to attend BYU. At first, I could hardly walk by the Provo MTC without feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. But I started volunteering weekly at the MTC and found that it was healing to meet the wonderful missionaries being sent to my beloved Hungary.

A Hungarian sister, Edit, who has prepared nearly 150,000 names for the temple asked me to take some of her names to the temple. It was a joy to do the saving ordinances for these Hungarians!

Serving a mission was my most important life dream and, understandably, I felt a loss when I came home earlier than anticipated. For a time, I struggled to talk about my mission. I had to work through feelings of failure. I had to learn how to judge the value of my mission by my desire to serve rather than the length. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, each of these steps toward meaning in my life also brought healing.

For years I was nervous that returning to Hungary would be difficult for me emotionally. When I eventually traveled there, it wasn’t until the second day that I realized that not only was I not feeling any pain, I was also feeling overwhelming joy to be back. I knew then that Heavenly Father had given me the opportunity to experience the healing power of the Savior’s Atonement. I now know that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, all things will be made right in the end.

*Many early returned missionaries continue to serve as young Church-service missionaries. Meet with your bishop or branch president for more information.

I close with a parable.
Once a man received as his inheritance two keys. The first key, he was told, would open a vault which he must protect at all cost. The second key was to a safe within the vault which contained a priceless treasure. He was to open this safe and freely use the precious things which were stored therein. He was warned that many would seek to rob him of his inheritance. He was promised that if he used the treasure worthily, it would be replenished and never be diminished, not in all eternity. He would be tested. If he used it to benefit others, his own blessings and joy would increase.
The man went alone to the vault. His first key opened the door. He tried to unlock the treasure with the other key, but he could not, for there were two locks on the safe. His key alone would not open it. No matter how he tried, he could not open it. He was puzzled. He had been given the keys. He knew the treasure was rightfully his. He had obeyed instructions, but he could not open the safe.
In due time, there came a woman into the vault. She, too, held a key. It was noticeably different from the key he held. Her key fit the other lock. It humbled him to learn that he could not obtain his rightful inheritance without her.
They made a covenant that together they would open the treasure and, as instructed, he would watch over the vault and protect it; she would watch over the treasure. She was not concerned that, as guardian of the vault, he held two keys, for his full purpose was to see that she was safe as she watched over that which was most precious to them both. Together they opened the safe and partook of their inheritance. They rejoiced, for, as promised, it replenished itself.
With great joy they found that they could pass the treasure on to their children; each could receive a full measure, undiminished to the last generation.
Perhaps some few of their posterity would not find a companion who possessed the complementary key, or one worthy and willing to keep the covenants relating to the treasure. Nevertheless, if they kept the commandments, they would not be denied even the smallest blessing.
Because some tempted them to misuse their treasure, they were careful to teach their children about keys and covenants.
There came, in due time, among their posterity some few who were deceived or jealous or selfish because one was given two keys and another only one. “Why,” the selfish ones reasoned, “cannot the treasure be mine alone to use as I desire?”
Some tried to reshape the key they had been given to resemble the other key. Perhaps, they thought, it would then fit both locks. And so it was that the safe was closed to them. Their reshaped keys were useless, and their inheritance was lost.
Those who received the treasure with gratitude and obeyed the laws concerning it knew joy without bounds through time and all eternity.

Other kinds of blessings can come, too. Teresa Gai, a widow living in Lima, Peru, supported herself by operating a small store, and Sunday was one of her biggest business days. When missionaries taught her the gospel, she worried about closing her store on Sunday. One weekend she finally agreed to do so, not realizing she was closing her store the day before New Year’s—her most profitable day of the year! With no business for two days in a row, she faced serious financial consequences. But she had promised. She closed her store and went to church. On Tuesday, she discovered that by the end of the day she had done more business than any day since opening her store. She never again did business on Sunday, and her sales increased steadily (see “Pioneering in the Andes,” Liahona, May 1997, 44–46).

Miguel Arrellano looked out the window of the tar-paper shack. Thunderclouds had opened up, pouring forth torrents of rain. Such storms were not unusual in his small village set in the mountains of Colombia.
Normally Miguel did not mind the rain. It watered the crops that the family depended upon for a living. Today, though, he prayed for the rain to stop.
It was a special day—the day he and his parents would be baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
He remembered when the two missionaries had found them. Elder Berger and Elder Santos, dressed in dark pants and white shirts, had appeared at their door. They wore small, black, name badges proclaiming that they represented the Church.
Elder Berger was tall, almost two meters. He came from Utah in the United States of America. In Colombia, men are rarely so tall. Papá was only a few centimeters taller than Miguel. Elder Santos was a native missionary and even shorter than Papá.
Miguel had practiced saying Elder Berger’s name. The syllables sounded strange upon his tongue. They laughed together as the American missionary tried to say Arrellano.
The elders told the family the story of Joseph Smith and the Restoration. When Elder Berger bore his testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, tears streamed down his face. He and Elder Santos both testified that Joseph Smith had been a prophet and that Gordon B. Hinckley was now the prophet. Though Miguel was only eleven, he knew that he was hearing the truth.
Mamá had cried when the elders had spoken of families being together forever. “Always, we search for something,” she had said. “Now I know we have found it.” She’d placed her hand on her heart. “I feel it. Here.”
The rain continued to fall in sheets and showed no signs of letting up.
Miguel looked from Mamá to Papá. “We must go. We told Elder Berger and Elder Santos that we would be there.”
Papá pointed to the flooded road. “There will be no bus today.”
The family had no car and had to rely on the bus. They had to change buses twice to reach the church. Each week, they carefully counted out the coins necessary to buy the bus tokens for Sunday. This week, they had taken money from their small food budget to pay for the extra trip to the church.
Papá worked very hard, but there was never enough money. Mamá had saved a little and made them new clothes. She had sewn Miguel and Papá shirts and herself a blouse. Miguel thought that she looked pretty in the bright yellow color.
He remembered the picture of President Hinckley the two young elders had shown the family. The prophet would not give up. He would find a way to get to the church, Miguel decided, and so will we.
“Señor Tomás,” Miguel said, glancing out the window and seeing their neighbor. “He goes to the city every day. Maybe he will give us a ride.”
Miguel ran across the muddy yard to their neighbor’s humble home. Señor Tomás nodded agreeably as the boy explained the situation. Miguel and Papá climbed into the back of the truck; Mamá rode in the cab with their neighbor.
They held on tightly as the old truck bounced over the rough roads. When they arrived at the small meetinghouse, they were wet and very tired, but happy.
The elders greeted them. Their clothes were wet and wrinkled, too, but the smiles on their faces were the brightest Miguel had ever seen.
“We weren’t sure you could make it,” Elder Berger said. “We’ve had problems here, too.”
They shared stories. Elder Santos explained that the pipes that carried water to the chapel had burst so that the baptismal font could not be filled. After praying, the elders had filled buckets with rain water and carried them inside the church to fill the font.
Miguel and his parents explained how they had found a ride with their neighbor.
“It’s a miracle you made it,” Elder Santos said.
Papá looked at the baptismal font and said, “We have many miracles today.”
“And much to be thankful for,” Mamá added.
Miguel and Papá changed clothes in a small dressing room while Mamá changed clothes in another one. Miguel touched the crisp white shirt and pants the elders had given him. They felt strange against his skin.
The water was so shallow that the elders had to kneel to perform the baptisms.
Miguel waited while his parents were baptized. When the time came for his own baptism, he felt a warmth come over him, even though the water was cold.
After everyone had changed into dry clothes, Elder Berger and Elder Santos confirmed Miguel and his parents members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Miguel hugged his parents, then Elder Berger and Elder Santos. He would never forget this day or the baptism miracles.

My wife, Elizabeth, and I know the power of such feelings firsthand. Nearly 40 years ago, a good friend and colleague, a member of the Church, started bringing up the gospel with us in casual conversation. On several occasions, he sent the missionaries to visit us. We liked the missionaries and agreed to take the discussions, but we were not truly interested in what they had to teach.
That changed in October 1978, when my colleague invited several friends, including us, to the São Paulo Brazil Temple open house. He rented several buses at his own expense so that his friends could join him at the temple, about 50 miles (80 km) away.
When Elizabeth entered the baptistry, she felt something she had never experienced before, something she later recognized as the Holy Ghost. The feeling was a great joy in her heart. She knew in that moment that the Church was true and that it was the Church she wanted to join.
A similar feeling came to me at the end of the open house, when we were escorted to the sealing room and taught the doctrine of eternal families. That doctrine touched me. I was successful in my profession, but I had long felt an emptiness in my soul. I did not know what could fill that void, but I sensed that it had something to do with family. There, in the sealing room, things started to fall into place in my mind and heart.
Within a few days, missionaries contacted us again. This time we were very interested in hearing their message.
The elders encouraged us to pray fervently about the truth. I decided this was the only way I could pray. I knew that I couldn’t make a commitment to join the Church without having a real testimony. I was anxious about approaching Heavenly Father to ask for a confirmation from Him, but at the same time, I was sure He would answer me. I shared with Him the deep desires of my heart and asked Him to give me an answer that would assure me that joining the Church was the correct path.
The following week in Sunday School, our friend who had invited us to the temple open house was sitting behind me. He leaned forward and began talking to me. The words he said answered exactly what I had prayed to know. I had no doubt that Heavenly Father was speaking to me through him. At the time, I was a stern, hardened man, but my heart melted and I began to weep. When my friend had finished, he invited my wife and me to be baptized. We accepted.
On October 31, 1978, less than a month after our experience at the São Paulo Temple, we were baptized and confirmed. The next day we participated in the second dedicatory session of the São Paulo Brazil Temple. A year later we returned to the temple with our two sons to be sealed as a family. All three occasions were beautiful, memorable experiences. We have continued to perpetuate those feelings with regular temple worship over the years.

More than 60 years ago, I served as a missionary in Austria and Switzerland. It was a challenging but wonderful time. I grew to love the people of that area of the world and felt reluctant to leave them. But my term of service ended in late August of 1939, and I made preparations to sail home.
After a long journey across the Atlantic Ocean, which was hazardous at that time because of the war, I rejoiced when I saw that wonderful beacon of freedom and democracy, the Statue of Liberty. I cannot express to you my relief when we finally reached that safe harbor.
I imagine I felt something of what the disciples of Jesus Christ felt on that day when they were with the Savior. They set sail upon the Sea of Galilee. The scriptures tell us that Jesus was weary, and He went to the back of the ship and fell asleep on a pillow. Soon the skies darkened, and “there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves.” The storm raged. The disciples panicked. It seemed as though the boat would capsize, yet the Savior still slept. At last they could wait no longer, and they awakened Jesus. You can almost hear the anguish and despair in their voices as they pled with their Master, “Carest thou not that we perish?”
Many today feel troubled and distressed; many feel that at any moment the ships of their lives could capsize or sink. It is to you who are looking for a safe harbor that I wish to speak today, you whose hearts are breaking, you who are worried or afraid, you who bear grief or the burdens of sin, you who feel no one is listening to your cries, you whose hearts are pleading, “Master, carest thou not that I perish?” To you I offer a few words of comfort and of counsel.
Be assured that there is a safe harbor. You can find peace amidst the storms that threaten you. Your Heavenly Father, who knows when even a sparrow falls, knows of your heartache and suffering. He loves you and wants the best for you. Never doubt this. While He allows all of us to make choices that may not always be for our own or even others’ well-being, and while He does not always intervene in the course of events, He has promised the faithful peace even in their trials and tribulations.
The prophet Alma tells us, “And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.”
Jesus comforts us when He said: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
Draw close to the Lord Jesus Christ. He bears a special love for those who suffer. He is the Son of God, an eternal king. In His mortal ministry He loved them and blessed them.
To the meek and discouraged, His every word was one of compassion and encouragement. To the sick, He brought a healing balm. Those who yearned for hope, who yearned for a caring touch, received it from the hand of this King of Kings, this Creator of ocean, earth, and sky.
Today Jesus the Christ stands at the right hand of our Heavenly Father. Do you suppose that today He is any less inclined to aid those who suffer, who are sick, or who appeal to the Father in prayer for succor?
Be of good cheer. The Man of Galilee, the Creator, the Son of the Living God will not forget nor forsake those whose hearts are drawn to Him. I testify that the Man who suffered for mankind, who committed His life to healing the sick and comforting the disconsolate, is mindful of your sufferings, doubts, and heartaches.
“Then,” the world would ask, “why does He sleep when the tempest rages all around me? Why does He not still this storm, or why would He let me suffer?”
Your answer may be found in considering a butterfly. Wrapped tightly in its cocoon, the developing chrysalis must struggle with all its might to break its confinement. The butterfly might think, “Why must I suffer so? Why cannot I simply, in the twinkling of an eye, become a butterfly?”
Such thoughts would be contrary to the Creator’s design. The struggle to break out of the cocoon develops the butterfly so it can fly. Without that adversity, the butterfly would never have the strength to achieve its destiny. It would never develop the strength to become something extraordinary.
President James E. Faust explained that “into every life there come the painful, despairing days of adversity and buffeting. There seems to be a full measure of anguish, sorrow, and often heartbreak for everyone, including those who earnestly seek to do right and be faithful.” And then the suggestion that the adversity we experience allows our souls to become like clay in the hands of the Master. “Trials and adversity,” President Faust taught, “can be preparatory to becoming born anew.”
Adversity can strengthen and refine us. As with the butterfly, adversity is necessary to build character in people. Even when we are called to sail through troubled waters, we need to know the place of adversity in shaping our divine potential.
If only we would look beyond our present suffering and see our struggles as a temporary chrysalis. If only we would have the faith and trust in our Heavenly Father to see how, after a little season, we can emerge from our trials more refined and glorious.
What parent would say to a child, “Learning to walk is such a painful and difficult experience. You will stumble; you will most likely hurt yourself; you will cry many times when you fall. I will protect you from the struggle.” I have watched our youngest grandson, Seth, as he was learning to walk. Through this process of gaining experience, he now walks with confidence. Could I have said to him, “Out of my love for you, I will save you from this”? If I had, because I could not bear to see him take a tumble at times, he may have never learned to walk. That is unthinkable for a loving parent or grandparent.
The child, if he or she is ever to walk, must pass through the stumbling and often painful process of learning. We encouraged Seth to learn through his experience. Yes, even knowing that the process would be difficult, we knew that the freedom and joy of walking would outweigh any temporary pain or adversity.
My brothers and sisters, what is mortality if not a long process like learning to walk? We must learn to walk in the ways of the Lord.
You are stronger than you think. Your Heavenly Father, the Lord and Master of the universe, is your Creator. When I think of it, it makes my heart leap for joy. Our spirits are eternal, and eternal spirits have immeasurable capacity!
Our Father in Heaven does not wish us to cower. He does not want us to wallow in our misery. He expects us to square our shoulders, roll up our sleeves, and overcome our challenges.
That kind of spirit—that blend of faith and hard work—is the spirit we should emulate as we seek to reach a safe harbor in our own lives.
Brothers and sisters, you are not alone. In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints today, millions of people stand beside you. Those who follow the teachings and example of the Savior are “willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.”
The question Cain asked of the Lord, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” has been answered by prophets in these latter days. “Yes, we are our brothers’ keepers,” President Thomas S. Monson has said. When we work together to benefit those in need, “we eliminate the weakness of one person standing alone and substitute the strength of many serving together. While we may not be able to do everything, we can and must do something.”
Bishops, home teachers, visiting teachers, and members of priesthood quorums and of Relief Societies and other auxiliary organizations all stand ready to help. The Savior’s teachings and the Church constitute our best safe harbor—yes, our most secure “refuge from the storm.”
Of course, your brothers and sisters in the Church are not to solve your problems for you. It has been my experience that when we do for others what they can and ought to do for themselves, we often weaken rather than strengthen them. But your brothers and sisters will be at your side to strengthen you, encourage you, and help you.
As you overcome adversity in your life, you will become stronger. Then you will be better able to help others—those who are working, in their turn, to find a safe harbor from the storms that rage about them.
When you feel tossed by the storms of life and when the waves rise and the winds howl, on those occasions it would be natural for you to cry in your heart, “Master, carest thou not that I perish?” When these times come, think back upon that day when the Savior awakened in the stern of the ship, rose up, and rebuked the storm. “Peace, be still,” He said.
At times we may be tempted to think the Savior is oblivious to our trials. In fact, the reverse is true; it is we who need to be awakened in our hearts to His teachings.
Use your ingenuity, your strength, your might to resolve your challenges. Do all you can do and then leave the rest to the Lord. President Howard W. Hunter said: “If our lives and our faith are centered on Jesus Christ and his restored gospel, nothing can ever go permanently wrong. On the other hand, if our lives are not centered on the Savior and His teachings, no other success can ever be permanently right.”
Living the gospel does not mean the storms of life will pass us by, but we will be better prepared to face them with serenity and peace. “Search diligently, pray always, and be believing,” the Lord admonished, “and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly.”
Draw close to the Lord Jesus Christ. Be of good cheer. Keep the faith. Doubt not. The storms will one day be stilled. Our beloved prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, has said: “We have nothing to fear. God is at the helm. … [And] He will shower down blessings upon those who walk in obedience to His commandments.”
In our own storms in life, the Savior is our solace and our sanctuary. If we seek peace, we must come unto Him. He Himself spoke this eternal truth when He said, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” When our souls are anchored in the safe harbor of the Savior, we can proclaim as did Paul: “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.”
The Prophet Joseph Smith, who knew much about the storms of life, during one of his darkest moments cried in anguish: “[My] God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?” Even as he lifted up his voice, the serene comfort of the Lord came to him: “Peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; and then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.”
The gospel gives us that harbor of enduring safety and security. The living prophet and the apostles today are as lighthouses in the storm. Steer towards the light of the restored gospel and the inspired teachings of those who represent the Lord on earth.
I bear solemn testimony that Jesus is the living Christ, our Savior and Redeemer. He leads and directs His Church through our prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley. If we live by the Savior’s teachings, we will with surety find a safe harbor in this life and in the eternities to come. I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Anyone who’s been a Boy Scout can tell you that becoming an Eagle is no simple task. But for Ryan Scholes, a member of the Basalt Ward, Firth Idaho Stake, becoming an Eagle Scout was an extra-special achievement.
Because Ryan has Down’s syndrome, earning merit badges, learning Scouting skills, and organizing his Eagle project were all more challenging than usual. Other members of his troop helped him with some of the more difficult tasks, but little by little, Ryan became a true Scouter on his own.
The day before Ryan turned 18, he completed his project of collecting more than 700 food items for needy families in his troop area. And, although it may have been a little harder for Ryan to achieve the rank of Eagle, he’s proud that in his troop he’s just “one of the boys.”

Steven Brantzeg is seven years old, and he can read well. But even when he was four, people thought he could read. You could ask him to find the story of Jonah in his Bible, and he could turn right to the page. You could ask him to find the stories of Joseph and his eleven brothers or Lehi and his journey to the promised land, and he could show you right where they are found in his set of the scriptures. Most of his friends at Primary could do the same thing. How?
As part of Sharing Time in the Valley View Sixth Ward in Salt Lake City, where Steven and his family attend church, children were told many of the stories from the Bible and the Book of Mormon. Then their teachers helped them to find the pages where those stories are found in their own scriptures. The children marked those pages in a way that would remind them of the stories. On pages 10 and 11 in Steven’s Bible, for example, you will find pictures of an ark, a cloud raining drops of water, and a birthday cake with six candles. Even before he could read, Steven could tell you about the building of the ark and the rain that came for forty days and nights when Noah was six hundred years old. He could turn right to the page too! When the project in Primary was completed, Steven and his mom and dad, Annette and George Brantzeg, continued to read stories from the scriptures and to mark them in Steven’s copies.

Suddenly, we find the summer is nearly gone, and all too fast Labor Day is here. The family gathers for one last fire of the season. The activities are the same as always, but our feelings are different. Each ritual is cherished and lengthened because it is the last one of the season. The children are allowed to stay out just a little longer.
As the night draws to a close, we all gather around the fire for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Grandpa stands up and, with eager shouts of encouragement from the children, tosses this season’s straw cowboy hat into the fire. It is quiet as we watch the hat slowly curl up and disappear, knowing it is the end of summer, and it will be many more months until the next bonfire. We all stand quietly, reflecting on the summer and feeling that we are the luckiest people alive. We all appreciate our grandfather for making it possible for us to have these times together.
The last embers flicker out, and all that is left is a thin curling wisp of smoke that follows us as we reluctantly file into the house.

I know from experience the troubled mind of such a young person. When I was preparing to go on my mission, some surprising forces tried to discourage me. One was my dentist. When he realized my appointment was so I could be a missionary, he tried to dissuade me from serving. I had not had the least notion that my dentist was against the Church.

The interruption of my education was also complicated. When I asked for a two-year leave of absence from my university program, I was informed that it was not possible. I would lose my place at the university if I did not return after one year. In Brazil, this was serious since the only criterion for admittance in a university program was a very difficult and competitive examination.

After repeatedly insisting, I was reluctantly informed that after being absent for one year, I could apply for an exception on extraordinary grounds. It might be approved or not. I was terrified at the idea of retaking that difficult admissions test after two years away from my studies.

I also was especially interested in a young woman. Several of my friends shared that same interest. I thought to myself, “If I go on a mission, I’m running a risk.”

But the Lord Jesus Christ was my great inspiration not to be afraid of the future as I strove to serve Him with all my heart.

Remember the challenges that I thought I faced prior to my mission? My dentist? I found another. My university? They made an exception for me. Remember that young woman? She married one of my good friends.

But God truly blessed me richly. And I learned that the blessings of the Lord can come in ways different from how we expect. After all, His thoughts are not our thoughts (see Isaiah 55:8–9).

Among the many rich blessings He has given me for serving Him as a full-time missionary are a greater faith in Jesus Christ and His Atonement and a stronger knowledge and testimony of His teachings, so that I am not easily swayed by “every wind of doctrine” (Ephesians 4:14). I lost my fear of teaching. My capacity to face challenges with optimism increased. By observing individuals and families I met or taught as a missionary, I learned that the teachings of God are true when He says that sin does not bring true happiness and that obedience to the commandments of God helps us prosper both temporally and spiritually (see Mosiah 2:41; Alma 41:10). And I learned for myself that God is a God of miracles (see Mormon 9).

All of these things were instrumental in my preparation for adult life, including possible marriage and parenthood, Church service, and professional and community life.

I am Brother Bassa N’Da Germain Eby, from Cote d’Ivoire, Anonkoua Stake, Avocatier Ward. I served in the Liberia Monrovia Mission, and returned home in March of this year. Before going on my mission, I graduated from the university in accounting and finance. I had worked in a company for eight months. Life after my mission was like a puzzle as I did not know what to do.
I met with my bishop and explained my circumstances to him. He counseled me to meet with the WSRS manager. My encounter with him was a new dawn in my life. He introduced me to the WSRS tools. Following that, I participated in an orientation for returned missionaries. That was an eye-opener, because I was able to set goals and to identify resources that I could use to achieve them. I also attended an accelerated job search training. I regularly received one-on-one coaching from the WSRS manager. He helped me to develop a very good resume.
My job search effort yielded results when a company I contacted, Perfect Communication, gave me an offer as a trainee. I devoted myself to the training so much that after a month I was given a full-time appointment. Just about the same time, I got a better offer from another company including opportunities for career growth. I chose the latter. I have been working with Olam International, a rubber factory, since July.
It is indeed a blessing to secure a job in these difficult times when companies are downsizing because of the COVID-19 pandemic. I am grateful to the Lord for His providence. I owe the WSRS manager loads of gratitude for his support. I am still learning from life’s experiences and I know I have embarked on the journey to become self-reliant. I encourage every returned missionary to participate in the WSRS group meetings. They will open the door of opportunity to them.
I know that God lives. He loves us. We are His children. He cares for our growth, so He always prepares the way for us to obtain every needful thing to be happy.

I’d never been very committed to indexing. I love temple work and have used FamilySearch.org to find family members’ names to take to the temple. I believe the Lord has inspired technological advancements to further and hasten His work. And I understand that indexing performs a critical function of making searchable records accessible. But my efforts at indexing had still been intermittent and weak.
Enter COVID-19 and temple closures. In the April 2020 general conference, President Russell M. Nelson said: “While worshipping in the temple is presently not possible, I invite you to increase your participation in family history, including family history research and indexing. I promise that as you increase your time in temple and family history work, you will increase and improve your ability to hear Him.”1 Right after this invitation was given, I was quarantined because of exposure to someone with COVID-19. I decided to use that time to try indexing again.
At first my experience was the same as before—slow and frustrating. I don’t easily understand other people’s handwriting or the formats of different forms. Then I remembered what I learned in Saints, volume 1, when Joseph Smith was translating the Book of Mormon: “He had to be humble and exercise faith as he studied the characters.”2 At that same time, Oliver Cowdery was unable to translate, in part because he “took no thought save it [were] to ask” (Doctrine and Covenants 9:7). I didn’t want to find myself making the same mistake as Oliver, so I applied myself with a little more enthusiasm and commitment.
Ever since that moment, instead of wincing or shying away from difficult indexing projects, I relish the opportunity to work hand in hand with the Lord in indexing names so that those who have passed can become one step closer to receiving ordinances in the temple. As I study out in my mind the details of the records before me, I feel greater patience in my persistence to understand the records, and I recognize the Lord’s hand in my understanding when it comes. I have felt the fulfillment of President Nelson’s promise—I am increasing in my ability to hear the Lord.
I am thankful for the opportunity to participate in the work of salvation and exaltation! Indexing is an amazing opportunity to emulate the Prophet Joseph Smith in laboring to comprehend what would otherwise be incomprehensible to us but can become clear through the gift and power of God.

“Oooooh! What is it?” squealed seven-year-old Kristi as she poked gingerly with a stick at the shiny brown insect on the sidewalk. Suddenly it jumped, and Kristi stumbled backward in surprise.
“Why, Kristi,” Mother said good-naturedly as she turned from the flower bed. “Haven’t you seen a cricket before?”
“A cricket!” cried Kristi. “We learned about crickets in Primary. They were eating the pioneers’ crops, so the pioneers prayed, and Heavenly Father sent seagulls to eat the crickets. I just didn’t know what a real one looked like.”
Mother smiled as she sat on the cool grass and brushed the soil from her hands. “If you’ll come sit here by me, Kristi, I’ll tell you something about a special cricket.”
“Are you going to tell me a story?” Kristi asked happily.
…
“Oh, Mother, did that really happen?” asked Kristi.
“Yes,” Mother answered. “That little girl was your grandma.”
“My very own grandma,” Kristi sighed. She was thoughtful for a moment, then said, “It’s funny, isn’t it? Heavenly Father answered the pioneers’ prayers by taking the crickets away, but He answered Grandma’s prayer by sending her a cricket. Oh, Mother,”—Kristi suddenly sat up straight—“I’m glad the seagulls didn’t eat all the crickets!”
“I am too,” Mother agreed, gathering Kristi into her arms. “Very glad indeed.”

Elder Woodhouse and I were called to serve in the Dominican Republic as humanitarian missionaries from April 2019–2021. It was a dream come true for me and a complete surprise. There are no coincidences, and as Elder Gavarret reminded us during an interview, God is in the details.
My mother was born of Puerto Rican parents working in the sugar industry in La Romana, Dominican Republic in 1913. Both of her parents died in 1916 within months of one another when she was almost three years old. Puerto Rican neighbors raised her until she married and moved to Puerto Rico with her little family in 1930. My mother never found any paperwork on the birth or death of her parents or where they were buried. I felt this was my chance to do some digging and find what my mother could not find.
One Sunday we decided to visit a ward in La Romana. It happened to be Mother’s Day. I shared my story with the sisters in Relief Society with hopes that someone could help. A kind sister who happened to work in the civil registry of the town said she would research the archives for me. A few weeks later she said she could not find anything. An official registry was not kept, by law, until the 1930s. Some records were destroyed by floods or fire or just stored under poor conditions causing them to deteriorate. I gave her my sisters’ names and birth dates and the towns in which they were born. No records found. I was devastated. What do I do now?
With nowhere to turn I immersed myself in FamilySearch. I had found documentation on my grandmother in Puerto Rico before she left to La Romana in a census. I found a ship manifest that listed my grandmother traveling with a newborn (my mother) to Puerto Rico twice. The last time was within the year she had passed. I now knew the town she was from, my mother’s real birthday and who they visited. This was a real treasure. My mother was an orphan with no real information, and now I had a place to start.
Although I had not found what I was looking for, we took the time to visit all the places my mother talked about. I was able to get a feel for what life must have been like in the early days of the twentieth century living in a sugar cane industry town. This gave me renewed faith in continuing my search for more information.
As I continued to search further back through my grandparents’ lines, I found many wonderful treasures. I found that my family line in Puerto Rico dates to early explorers in the Caribbean. Some had served as governors in the Dominican Republic. Some were sea captains, farmers, and businessmen. Some were maids, seamstresses, and some of nobility. I was able to do the temple work for many there in the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple where we volunteered as ordinance workers once a week. I was beginning to feel a closeness to my ancestors that I thought I would never experience. My excitement and joy in the work I was doing carried me through times of disappointments. I knew that if I kept looking, I would be able to find many more, and I did.
My time in the Dominican Republic was cut short because of the pandemic, but not before finding my family and learning more about my rich Caribbean roots. The tapestry of my family lines is rich with stories of courage and faith. At one time, I thought I would not be able to complete my four generations with temple work, at least not in this life. But now I have gone well beyond four generations. Elder and Sister Soares said in the last RootsTech that one purpose of temple work was to unite the past with the present and the future. I have felt this each time as my grandchildren enter the temple to do the work for these sweet people I never knew existed. I can honestly say I now know them and love them. They are my family.

I saw the promise come to fruition that my doctors would be guided. When I awoke after one of my operations, the surgeon came to see me.
“I was all done,” she explained, “but something told me to go deeper, and I found additional problem areas, which I was able to remove. We’re fortunate to have found them.”
She is not a member of the Church, but the promise of the blessing I had received early on had come to pass. The Spirit had guided her.

From 1856 to 1860, thousands of Latter-day Saint pioneers pulled their belongings in handcarts for over 1,000 miles (1,600 km) as they traveled to the Salt Lake Valley. One hundred sixty-seven years ago this very week, on October 4, 1856, President Brigham Young was surprised to learn that two handcart companies, led by Edward Martin and James Willie, were still hundreds of miles from Salt Lake, with winter fast approaching. The very next day, not far from where we meet today, President Young stood before the Saints and declared: “Many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with hand-carts, and they must be brought here. … Go and bring in those people now on the plains.”
Just two days later, the first rescue parties departed in search of the handcart pioneers.
A member of the Willie company described the desperate situation prior to the arrival of the main rescue team. He shared: “[Just] when it seemed all would be lost, … and there seemed little left to live for, like a thunderbolt out of the clear sky, God answered our prayers. A rescue party, bringing food and supplies … , came into sight. … How we thanked God for our rescue.”

After reading an article in the New Era about the merits of group dating, a small group of young Saints in Gerehu, Papua New Guinea, decided to give it a try.
When the big day arrived, the boys picked the girls up at their homes, and they all attended the annual Port Moresby Show (something like a county fair) and ate lunch together.
At the end of the day, the boys gave each girl a small gift to remind her of the occasion.
Although group dating was a new idea for most of the participants, many said they had a great time and plan to do it again soon.

Growing up, I didn’t believe there was a God. My life was full of turmoil, and in my darkest days I was depressed enough that I wanted to end my life. That was when the missionaries came knocking on my door. The gospel was exactly what I needed; I was drawn to it like a magnet.
My trials didn’t end after I joined the Church, but I was in a better position to resist the influence of the adversary. For the first time, I knew what happiness felt like.

During school recess I saw something shiny lying in the gravel and stopped to see what it was. It was a Kennedy half-dollar! I was so excited! I thought of keeping it, but instead I took it to the teacher on duty. She told me to take it to the office, so I gave the coin to our school secretary. She said, “Wow, Matthew! Thanks for being so honest!” That made me feel really good! She also said that if no one claimed the coin, I could have it back.
I didn’t hear anything else about it until the end of the year. During the last week of school I found out that I had earned a good citizenship award and a prize for turning in the coin. I felt good inside because I had been honest. I also enjoyed the prize, which was a candy bar!

For many years my wife and children and I have had the tradition of spending summer vacation on a small beach near our home in southern Brazil. Sometimes we moved because of work, but no matter how far we lived from that small beach, we always made the annual trip with much anticipation and joy. Likewise, extended family members and friends would travel long distances so we could all be together once a year. Everyone came as early as they could and stayed as long as possible.
At that small beach our family had many wonderful opportunities for spiritual growth and gospel teaching. Most of our extended family members were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and did not share our religious beliefs. To them the Lord’s day was just another day to play and have fun. Because more of the family would be at the beach on weekends than during the other days of the week, our presence and participation in Sunday activities was not only expected but also insistently requested—including by our children.
Our children were small and only just learning to apply the truths of the gospel. To them the temptation of participating in activities with their cousins and friends on Sundays was great. Spending time with family is an important part of the gospel, and breaking the Sabbath would have been easy to rationalize. After all, the closest unit of the Church at that time was more than 60 miles (96 km) away from the beach. Our friends and neighbors in our home congregation were far away, and none of them would ever know if we stayed at the beach instead of driving to the chapel and attending our meetings on Sunday. We went to church the entire year, and our extended family could be together only a few weeks a year.
Nevertheless, we never missed going to church on Sundays—not even once! We remembered the Lord’s teachings:
“And that thou mayest more fully keep thyself unspotted from the world, thou shalt go to the house of prayer and offer up thy sacraments upon my holy day;
“For verily this is a day appointed unto you to rest from your labors, and to pay thy devotions unto the Most High; …
“But remember that on this, the Lord’s day, thou shalt offer thine oblations and thy sacraments unto the Most High. …
“And on this day thou shalt do none other thing, only let thy food be prepared with singleness of heart that thy fasting may be perfect, or, in other words, that thy joy may be full” (D&C 59:9–13).
We chose to keep this commandment, and we taught our children that they should keep it as well. Soon they understood that it was more important to worship God on His holy day than to please family and friends or to satisfy their own desires.
On Sundays at the beach, we would wake up early, dress up for Sunday worship, and travel by car to the nearest chapel. During our trip and throughout the entire day, we would enjoy the peace and joy the Lord has promised to those who keep His commandments. We came to learn that this feeling of peace and joy does not come from the world.
After several years of this routine, something wonderful happened. Our children stopped questioning the importance of worshipping God on His holy day, and several of our children’s cousins began to ask if they could go to church with us! Little did we know that the feeling of peace and joy we felt was also being felt by our nieces and nephews upon our return from our meetings. Eventually a great blessing resulted. After some of those children became adolescents, two of them from one family told their parents, “We want to become Latter-day Saints.” Soon the entire family was baptized. Recently, one of the children, now a returned missionary, was married in the temple.
We still go to that beach every year, but everyone knows that on Sunday our family will not be there to play. Instead, we will go to church and worship God with family members who join us—a group that is becoming larger and larger every year!
When we look back on those years and think about the choice we made, we thank God for helping us have the courage to do what was right and to teach our children to do the same. We don’t have the slightest doubt that that decision strengthened our children as well as our extended family. It gave us the Lord’s promised peace, played an important role in the conversion of family members, and blessed us with a satisfaction not found in alternative Sunday activities that do not fill the soul.