Gospel Story Finder

He learned to work hard and long on his father’s farm, and he was not one to give up easily. When he was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in 1943, he was shocked, overwhelmed, and humbled. In his first talk as an Apostle at the October 1943 general conference, he testified:
“I remember reading that Jacob wrestled all night, ‘until the breaking of the day,’ for a blessing; and I want to tell you that for eighty-five nights I have gone through that experience, wrestling for a blessing. Eighty-five times, the breaking of the day has found me on my knees praying to the Lord to help me and strengthen me and make me equal to this great responsibility that has come to me.”

When we returned to Japan after our marriage, the Lord’s promises came to pass in my life as I looked for full-time employment.
I was working only part-time when our first child arrived. We were elated, but I knew I would not be able to support our growing family without a full-time job. We began praying earnestly for heaven’s help.
Before I served my mission, I had wanted to work in foreign trade. But to be hired by a trading company, an applicant generally had to be a university graduate who held certain certifications. I hadn’t finished college and had no certifications, but when we prayed, we felt that the Lord would bless us and prepare a job for me.
I decided to take the hiring exams at a number of trading companies despite my lack of education. The first two turned me down, but I had a curious experience when I applied at a third company.
The Church had few Japanese members during that era, and many people were prejudiced against the Church. When three representatives from the third trading company interviewed me, they looked at my résumé and learned that I was a Latter-day Saint. They began asking me questions about the Church, requesting detailed answers. Having recently returned from my mission, I had no problem talking about the restored Church of Jesus Christ.
For what must have been at least 40 minutes, I spoke about the gospel and bore my testimony of the life of Jesus Christ, the Apostasy, Joseph Smith’s First Vision, the Book of Mormon, the Restoration of the true Church of Jesus Christ, and the teachings of the Church.
Not one of the interviewers stopped me while I spoke. A few days later the trading company offered me a job at an astoundingly high salary. Later, when I asked my manager why they had hired me, he replied, “During your interview I gained an assurance that you were conscientious, sincere, and loyal, and that you would be someone who would work in such a way for our company.”
I testify that the Lord fulfills His promises. During my interview I felt the power and Spirit of the Lord upon me, just as He promises to those who attend the temple and honor their temple covenants. I also felt His Spirit with me while I worked for the company, where I was blessed to make many valuable contributions.

Margaret stood on the deck and looked out at the blue ocean around her. The ship rocked up and down on giant waves.
Margaret’s family had sold almost all they had to sail to the United States. The trip would take six weeks. Margaret was sad to leave their home in Wales. But she was excited about her new home too.
A few months before, Margaret’s family had met missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Margaret and her parents were baptized. And now they were going to join the other Saints in Zion.
The trip had been hard so far. Margaret’s mother was ill. And her father was sick from years of working in the coal mines. So Margaret took care of them. She took care of her little brother and baby sister too. It was a big job. But Margaret didn’t complain.
Sometimes the boat rocked so much on the water that Margaret’s stomach felt sick. Other times she was afraid. When she was scared, she squeezed her eyes shut and asked Heavenly Father for help.
One day Margaret heard shouting. “There’s a leak in the ship! We’re sinking!”
Everyone panicked. The captain told everyone to find buckets. People scooped buckets of water to dump over the side of the ship.
Margaret wanted to help. She knelt by her bed and prayed as hard as she could. “Please Heavenly Father, help me think of some way to help.”
A peaceful feeling filled Margaret’s heart. She knew Heavenly Father was watching over her. He would help them.
Then she had an idea.
She pulled two white wool blankets off her bed and ran to find the captain. “Here,” she said. “Put these in the hole to stop the leak.”
The captain liked Margaret’s idea. He stuffed the blankets into the hole. Then he poured a big bucket of hot tar over them. When the tar cooled, the leak was sealed!
“Thank you for giving up your blankets,” said the captain. “Your quick thinking saved the day.”
Margaret smiled. She knew Heavenly Father had answered her prayers. Her pioneer journey was just starting, and she knew He would help her each step of the way.

Earlier in the week, we had been together in Kinshasa for an amazing young adult meeting, which filled every room in the stake center and overflowed into a large outdoor seating area. The questions were excellent and the teaching so inspired. I was sitting off to one side when—during the second hour of the meeting—Elder Bednar came over and quietly whispered for me to go into one of the other rooms where young adults were watching by broadcast, and ask if anyone had a question they would like to ask Elder Bednar. I entered one of the rooms where they were reverently watching, and as I began to ask if anyone had a question, they pointed to a bishop who was walking up to me and who then handed me half a dozen pages of questions he had already collected from all the rooms. I was astonished and asked why he did that (knowing no one had told him to do so). He simply said he knew we would be coming and felt it was the right thing to do. The Lord is in charge and through His Spirit clearly orchestrated all aspects of that extraordinary experience with thousands of excited young adults so anxious to see and learn from an Apostle of the Lord.

At the time of this writing, we have made three collecting trips, each of which has netted us different types of sea life. Our second time out, for instance, we caught about a hundred small grunion that swim about out pond in their own private school. Their numbers have gradually decreased, however, for two large flounders and some sea bass that inhabit the pond help themselves to a few grunions whenever we forget to feed the larger fish their daily ration of freshwater minnows.

At this point, we feel that we have accomplished most of what we set out to do. In spite of all of the reasons everyone offered as to why we could not establish a salt water ecosystem in our backyard, we have done so.
Our efforts are now directed toward studying it and learning all we can about its physics, chemistry, and biology. Twice daily we measure water temperatures at eleven different places in the pond, along with air temperature and humidity. This is done just after sunrise, when it is coolest, and late in the afternoon, when temperatures are generally at their maximum. We also keep notes on biological events of interest, such as the spawning of sea hares and some of the fish.

In time, the data gathered will serve as a basis for science fair projects as well as for scientific articles that we will write on these subjects. We have even formed our own research corporation to study these and other aspects of the world around us and have embarked on a great family adventure that is truly a new frontier for our family. And more than ever before we appreciate our Heavenly Father’s plan for family associations.

One way to revitalize our spirituality is to unselfishly serve others. At the same time, the recipient of that love will also be spiritually fed. A young mother from Bountiful, Utah, recalls how the spiritual sensitivity of a special sister in her ward helped her through a very difficult time in her life. “When my twin daughters were born, I didn’t know how I could possibly manage. I already had three young children—one of them a mentally and physically impaired ten-year-old. Since my husband’s business took him away from home most of the week, kind friends came many days and evenings to relieve me. But one day, a dear sister came to my home at 6:30 in the morning. She stayed for several hours—long enough to help me care for the babies, straighten my house, and get the older children ready for the day. She continued to do this every day for four months. I don’t know how I could have survived without her.”

The Lord’s work began for Walter immediately after his baptism in 1950. His parents and brother and sister had returned to Germany with plans for Walter to rejoin them after he sold the family farm in Santa Catarina. But when World War II broke out, Walter stayed in Brazil, and in 1946, he married Edith Altman, a Swiss immigrant. They moved to São Paulo, where Walter worked as a furniture maker and where the question of religion soon arose in their home.

Edith attended church services regularly, but Walter refused to accompany her. He would become a dedicated member of a church only when he could find the true church, he said. He had a feeling such a thing existed. So after Walter left for work every morning, Edith would kneel and ask God to show them the true church. Five months later, in November 1949, American missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on their door.

For five months Walter studied with the missionaries, read the scriptures, and attended Church meetings. He gradually became convinced that this was the true Church, and on 20 March 1950, Walter Spät was baptized. Edith joined the Church in October of the same year. Having been a member of a strict Protestant denomination, she had difficulty accepting certain aspects of LDS life, particularly dances held in the church building. “Only after I read the Book of Mormon several years after my baptism,” she says, “was I truly convinced that this was the Lord’s church.”

We have created a tradition for our family of six children that they like very much. Each year at Christmastime, we prepare carols, bake cookies, make rag dolls, and gather some of the children’s own toys and clothing in preparation for our activity. Then, with one of the children dressed as Santa Claus and the others as his helpers, we visit the old and sick in our ward, people in a nearby hospital, and less fortunate people in the streets. This activity has helped us feel the true meaning of Christmas and learn to be more like Jesus Christ.
Fajardo Romero Family,Casas Grandes Ward, Colonia Juárez Mexico Stake

After he left school, Géoffroy kept working hard. Soon he had a farm of his own.
Then one day he saw a friend who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His friend gave him a Book of Mormon. Géoffroy read the Book of Mormon and prayed. He felt warm and peaceful inside and knew for sure that the Church is true.
He already knew what to do next. He worked, prayed, and relied on God. First he got baptized. Then he shared his testimony with those around him. Some of his friends got baptized too. What started as a small group of members soon grew into a branch. He was helping the Church grow in Benin!

My daughter Carl Anne wrote to me describing a very difficult time in her life:
“In these lines of the song ‘Peace in Christ’:
‘There is Peace in Christ,
When we walk with Him.
Through the streets of Galilee
To Jerusalem.
Mend the broken hearts,
dry the tear-filled eyes.
When we live the way He lived,
There is peace in Christ,’”
“I have been impacted by these words because they remind me that in one of the most difficult moments I have ever experienced, I was able to recover because Jesus Christ helped me to remember the enabling power of His Atonement. I remember when my heart was broken, and I felt very sad about the loss of my first pregnancy—it feels like it was just yesterday—the day that I poured out my soul in prayer to My Heavenly Father seeking to feel peace and hope that everything would be all right. At that precise moment, I felt an intense warmth as if I were being embraced by my Savior Jesus Christ! Because He had experienced all of my pains and sorrows in the Garden of Gethsemane, I knew He felt my pain now. I knew without a doubt that Heavenly Father had a more perfect plan for me than I expected! Today, a year later, I am grateful to be the mother of a beautiful baby who brings me great joy, and to have the knowledge that it was all done in the Lord’s perfect timing.”

The Mitchell family struggled much longer than the Bonds, but their son has conquered drugs and is leading a productive life as a husband, father, and faithful member of the Church. He began abusing drugs at age fourteen. As the years and his habit progressed, he eventually ruined his marriage, lost his home, and destroyed his business. Four years ago, after fifteen years of addiction, he entered a treatment program that was successful. Brother Mitchell thinks he and his wife might have helped stop their son’s abuse earlier if they had recognized the problem more quickly and dealt with it more firmly.
“We really didn’t want to believe our son was an addict. You know, you let yourself believe the things your child tells you that you want to hear. We paid his fines; we paid his legal expenses. We said, ‘Well, we’ll just help him out this one time.’ We did that for years.”
After their son entered the treatment program, the Mitchells learned the crucial concept that abusers stop abusing only when they are forced to experience the natural outcome of their behavior. “You have to help the person face the consequences of his addiction,” they say. “And the sooner you do it, the sooner he’s likely to change. He has to realize that the pleasure of using drugs isn’t worth the pain that follows.”

When I was in the seventh grade I walked home from school with my friend Mardean, who was an eighth grader. A new girl, Sandra Kleinschmidt, moved into our school, and we found that she walked home the same way. She was taller than we were and naturally a little gawky at that age. We found her comical and made up a few code words so we could make fun of her without her understanding. I don’t really believe my friend Mardean thought that game up or even completely understood it, but I knew what those code remarks meant nevertheless.
Then the class learned that Sandra’s father was in some way involved in television production. That was a rather new medium then and quite glamorous to us. Suddenly we were much nicer to Sandra. What if she should invite us home? What if her father should see us and be struck with our great looks or talent or both? What if we should get to be on TV or, at the very least, get to see a live show?
Many years later I recalled that phase of my life, and I suddenly envisioned Sandra Kleinschmidt’s Father—not the TV producer—but her eternal Father in Heaven. I imagined him coming to say, “Yes, Sandra is my daughter, a princess, a potential queen. You, Jean, are also my daughter, and I am so disappointed in your behavior. My daughters behave with grace and courtesy, with love and compassion.”
Who did I think I was as I walked home from school?
Who did I think Sandra was?

The French have a phrase for it—au courant. It means to be aware of what’s happening, to know what’s going on. And 17-year-old Nathalie Perez had a plan to help the youth in the branch of Tours stay au courant.
“There aren’t that many LDS youth here,” Nathalie explains. “Sometimes we start to feel like we’re losing touch with each other.” So she decided to start a branch newspaper—just for the youth.
Soon the paper, published every other month, had its first edition, then the second, then the third. Now it’s in its second year of publication. The Journal des Jeunes (newspaper of the youth) is a hodgepodge of scriptures, inspirational thoughts, and news about the branch. There’s an ongoing series of biographies of presidents of the Church (Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, and John Taylor have already been featured), and there’s usually a note from one of the youth leaders.
But there are also recipes, jokes, tips on how to sew on a button or make perfect mayonnaise, crossword puzzles, descriptions of world geography, poems, and cultural notes about famous painters and musicians. Ingrid Garnier, 17, writes feature articles, riddles, and public opinion surveys. Pascal Brossard, 16, prepares a regular column on bird-watching. And Wilfried Garnier, 14, is the staff cartoonist.
The newsletter may not seem like much at first glance. It’s just a few sheets of photocopied paper with typed messages and hand-drawn illustrations. But to those in the know, it represents a heartbeat for the young people, a way of keeping in touch with the less active, a unifying force that the youth initiated themselves.
“The important thing is that the Journal gives us all a sense of belonging,” Nathalie explains. “Everyone has something they can contribute.”

On October 5, 2017, a year and two months into my mission was the day I received news from my mission president that my mom had passed on the day before. The pain I felt was beyond explanation, I was tempted to tell my mission president that I wanted to go home. My mission president and wife, being the loving parents they are, asked that I stay with them a few days at the mission home with hopes that I would be comforted.
In the course of my stay, my mission president gave me a priesthood blessing and I was prompted to revisit some of the scriptures my mission president had expounded during one of our zone conferences on the plan of salvation and so I did. I read Alma 42:6 that reminded me that death is inevitable and that “it was appointed unto man to die.” I also read Alma 40:11–12 where it teaches that a righteous soul who crosses the veil will be in a state of rest and peace.
As I read, I felt my pain waning gradually and I continued to read it repeatedly. I was reminded that my mom was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who had gone through the ordinances of baptism and receiving the Holy Ghost by my hand two years before her passing. That reminder kept me going and I left the mission home the next day to return to proselyting.
As I kept teaching the plan of salvation to my investigators from the Book of Mormon, my joy knew no bounds. Thanks to the Book of Mormon, I have moved on and am almost done with my mission. I am more than grateful for the principles taught in the Book of Mormon indeed, it contains the fullness of the gospel, for I have received a witness of its truthfulness.

Mom was filling out a donation slip when David and Bresciana came inside for a drink of water.
“What are you doing?” Bresciana asked. “Are you paying your tithing?”
Mom smiled. “Not this time, honey. Today I am giving some money for the people who were hurt by the tsunami.” She explained to David and Bresciana that a big wave had hurt a lot of people. Many of them had lost their homes and did not have food, clean clothes, or water to drink.
“What will happen to the people who don’t have enough food?” David asked.
“The prophet asked the members of the Church to donate money to help,” Mom said. “If you want to help, you may. Your allowance for this month is on the counter.”
David and Bresciana ran to get their money—a dollar each—and gave it to Mom. They were excited to help the people. After Bresciana went outside to play, David sat down on the couch. He kept thinking about the children who didn’t have enough food or didn’t have a place to live anymore. It made him sad.
“I want to do more,” he thought. He went to his bedroom and opened his allowance box. There lay the money he had saved all year—$11. He grabbed the money and ran back into the kitchen. “Mom, I want to give this money to the people too.”
When Bresciana heard about what David had done, she decided to give the money she had saved too. Mom helped them fill out donation slips so they could give the money to the bishop at church the next day.
Later that day, David heard Mom on the phone telling Grandma about the money he and Bresciana had donated. When Mom got off the phone, David looked worried.
“David, what’s the matter?” she asked.
“I tried to do my best to help the people,” David said, “but I don’t think we can help all of them with our money. It’s not a lot.”
“Sometimes it’s more important how we give the money rather than how much we give,” Mom said. “Do you remember the story of the widow’s mite in the New Testament?”
David didn’t, so Mom told him the story. “When the people of Jesus’s time were donating money, many gave a lot of jewels and treasure. One woman was very poor. She only gave two small coins called mites. Jesus said that her sacrifice was worth more than the treasures because she had given all the money she had—just like you and Bresciana.”*
David felt better after that. On Sunday, he and Bresciana gave their donations to the bishop. The bishop shook their hands and thanked them. David was glad he and Bresciana could help.
After church, Mom told David and Bresciana some exciting news. “Grandma just called me. Yesterday I told her about you two wanting to help the people who were hurt by the tsunami. When she shared your story today with people at church, some of them decided to give more money than before. Your example helped more people than you thought it would.”
Bresciana had a big smile on her face. David felt happy too. “Mom,” he said, “our widow’s mite really did make a difference!”

Your “Scavengers Welcome” article in the March issue was so impressive that we just had to try it. And try it we did, with about 500 youth at our regional Mia Maid and teacher conference. It was great!
We used between 80 and 90 cooperative adults as team leaders and divided the youth up into teams of unsuspecting strangers. We then sent them out to impress an apprehensive city. Our youth gave piggyback rides to children, pulled weeds, washed cars, and along with several other things, sang Primary songs to a new type of audience!
Our feedback included the comment from one team leader that “Actually doing it was a lot better than reading about it in the New Era.” This is an activity we would like to encourage others to participate in as it is a fulfilling and rewarding experience for both the participant and the recipient.
Deanna ElisonRichland, Washington

My collection of the Mormonads I got from the different issues of the New Era makes up my bedroom “wallpaper.” I’d also like to thank you for the June 2000 special issue. I was so thrilled when I got it because it was very timely. I was preparing my papers for my mission at that time, and so were a number of my friends in my ward and in the institute. We did our part, working with the missionaries and attending missionary preparation class. But I was lacking a little confidence in filling out the papers. The last missionary in my family was released in 1988 while the last missionary our ward (or branch then) ever sent to the field left in 1994. Nobody close to me had fresh enough knowledge about applying for a mission to help me prepare. That issue not only helped me fill out my application, but the articles were very inspiring. They made me more excited to go. Since not many people here subscribe to the New Era, I was happy to share my copy with my friends who were also preparing to go. Five weeks after I sent in my application, I got my call to serve in the Philippines Ilagan Mission. Thanks a lot!
Sister Maria Corazon PeroyPhilippines Ilagan Mission (via e-mail)

“He did not intend his last joke with her to turn out as it did. Just to tease her, he had been telling her before we came to the last canyon, Emigration, that her wagon was going to tip over, in fact, he knew it would. She said that if it did she would tell Brigham. And sure enough it did tip clear over and lifted on the bows. It was a very hard canyon for men to drive down. Riley was awfully surprised. He was only a boy and was terribly frightened. No one worked harder than he to get it righted. With the help of the men in the camp he got it up into the road which was very steep. It looked pretty dilapidated with the bows all smashed down, but did very little damage to the contents and since it was our last day before entering the Valley, he managed very well. Riley never heard whether she told Brigham Young or not.”

Carrie’s older brother tugged one of her thick blond braids. “Hey, Freckles, you ought to have the sheepshearers cut your hair, too.”
“Yeah,” chimed in her twin brother, “you have more wool than old Tim Buck.”
Nine-year-old Carrie made a face at her brothers. All three children were sitting on top of the strawstack at the far end of the sheep shed. Sheep, waiting to be sheared, moved about below them, bleating nervously. The shearing clippers buzzed, and men shouted orders as they threw the fleeces up into the wool bag.
Tim Buck, the huge lead ram, seemed to be the only calm one amid the confusion. He was penned apart and was munching on hay. Whenever he shook off flies, the large bell around his neck jingled.
“Carrie Helen!” shouted her dad. “Carrie Helen Shultz, please come here.”
Always anxious to please her father, she called back, “Coming!” Scooting off the strawstack, she ran to meet her dad.
“Carrie, I need you to go with Tim Buck to lead the sheep we’ve already sheared over to the south pasture. There are about a hundred ewes or so, plus the lambs. We have to make room for the next ones.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, grinning up at her brothers and throwing her shoulders back proudly.
Dad fastened one end of a stout rope to the lead sheep’s collar and handed the other end to Carrie. “OK, Carrie, Tim Buck’s ready. Remember what his job is.”
Without hesitating, Tim Buck started out of the holding pen. He showed no fear of Carrie and looked up at her with soft brown eyes, eyes filled with warmth and wisdom.
Confident of her own importance and of Tim Buck’s love, Carrie stepped out in front of the old sheep. She walked through the noisy ewes, who responded immediately to the sound of the lead sheep’s bell. As they followed Carrie and Tim Buck out of the corral gate, she felt their excitement as they rushed forward. They seemed to know that they were free now to go to the south pasture. Sensing their anticipation, and sure of her responsibility, Carrie tugged at the rope fastened to the sheep’s collar, pulling him toward the narrow bridge and her favorite shortcut to the south pasture.
But Tim Buck resisted Carrie’s tugging and headed toward the hill and the longer, usual route. Again Carrie pulled at the rope, trying to head the old sheep toward the bridge. Again Tim Buck resisted.
“Oh, why can’t you do it my way!” Carrie stamped her foot impatiently as Tim Buck stopped and refused to move. Though she pulled hard, her twenty-seven kilograms were no match against the weight of the huge sheep. When her arms began to tire, Carrie glared at Timi Buck and grumbled, “All right! I’ll do it your way this time. Come on. Let’s go up that long hill. At least we can cut across the hayfield and not have to take the long road around it.”
The ewes, confused at the delay, had begun to push forward, bleating worriedly. As Tim Buck moved forward, his bell started jingling, and the sheep quieted. When Carrie, walking a couple feet in front, quickened her step, Tim Buck quickened his. The hungry ewes also increased their pace. Out of breath, Carrie rushed to the top of the hill. “Now’s my chance,” she said, pulling tightly on Tim Buck’s rope, forcing his head toward the hayfield.
Tim Buck butted Carrie gently, loosening her grip. Then he moved toward the well-used road.
“Why, you ornery critter! Can’t you see how much easier it would be to cut across that field instead of going around it!” She yanked at the rope, trying to drag Tim Buck toward the hayfield. He looked at her, then shook his head forcefully. The bell jangled, and the ewes pressed forward as Tim Buck pulled away from the hayfield and moved quickly onto the familiar road. The rope started to slip through Carrie’s hands, but she held on tightly.
Half running, Carrie tried to get ahead of Tim Buck. But he only walked faster. The more she tried, the faster he went, and the faster he went, the faster came the ewes and lambs. Soon Carrie was caught between Tim Buck and the rushing sheep, and the rope was slipping out of her grasp. She clutched it desperately, even though it was burning her fingers.
Familiar with the road and quickened by hunger, the sheep hurried toward the open gate to the south pasture, where Tim Buck saw his own shortcut! He swerved suddenly from the road and down a steep slope. The sudden movement sent Carrie sprawling, and the rope was jerked out of her hands. The sheep quickly moved away from her and down the slope, following Tim Buck through the open pasture gate.
Carrie lay bewildered, hurt, and defeated. Sobbing, she struggled to her feet. With skinned knees and stinging hands, she stumbled back toward the sheep shed. With each step, she imagined her brothers’ teasing and her father’s disappointment.
Her dad met her in his truck before Carrie reached the shed. Stopping his truck, he got out and hurried over to her. Then, tilting her tear-stained face up for him to see, and putting one hand on her shoulder, he said, “It looks like you’ve had some troubles, honey.” He looked at her intently, but his voice was gentle and matter-of-fact. Seeing Carrie’s rope-burned hands, he dampened his handkerchief in some clean water and gently patted them while she told her story.
“So you wanted the sheep to take the shorter path across the bridge?” her father said when she had finished.
“It would have been much faster.”
“Do you think that all those sheep could have safely crossed that narrow bridge together?”
“Well,” Carrie hesitated. “I—I guess not. But they would have had plenty of room to cross the hayfield.”
“But, Carrie, do you remember how sick the sheep get when they eat too much hay? Do you know that most sheep can’t stop eating fresh hay once they get started?”
“Oh, Dad, I’m sorry,” Carrie sobbed.
“You’re lucky, Carrie, that Tim Buck wouldn’t allow the sheep to take a dangerous path.”
“Yeah, he’s really stubborn,” Carrie said.
“Perhaps he’s not as stubborn as he is committed to doing what he knows is right. Remember, Carrie, that he’s the lead sheep. He guides the others in the paths that will get them safely to where they want to go, just as Mom and I try to lead you along the right pathways so that you can return to live with Heavenly Father.”
Dad and Carrie got into the truck and he looked at her hands again to make sure that they weren’t seriously hurt. Then he drove toward the south pasture and stopped. Carrie was surprised when he got out of the truck and lifted her out too.
“All right, Carrie Helen. Now that you know why Tim Buck behaves as he does, do you think that you can take him back to get another bunch of sheep?”
“Yes, Dad. And this time I’ll let him lead the way.”

Ten years had passed since I had been baptized into the Church, but I had been less active for about nine of them. During that time I had married and now had a seven-year-old daughter. My mother and siblings were living with us when a friend reintroduced them to the Church, and the missionaries started coming to our home. I had a testimony of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon, but the knowledge I had acquired of the Church had melted away.
My husband became friends with the elders and, almost without knowing it, started taking the discussions. Each discussion took about a week; it was hard for him to accept the divinity of Jesus Christ. Nine months after being taught the first discussion, my husband felt he was not receiving answers to his prayers.
One morning when the missionaries came to pray with me for my husband, I felt impressed that I needed to help him recognize the influence of the Holy Ghost. The missionaries had given us a family home evening manual, and the next Monday I sat down with my husband and daughter and began my first family home evening by giving a lesson on the Holy Ghost. My husband listened in silence as he pondered the subject. The influence of the Spirit was very strong that night, and I could feel the Holy Ghost confirming the truthfulness of the Church, something I had not felt for a long time. The next day my husband bore his testimony to me and told me that the Spirit had borne witness to him and he had recognized it. That night we lit in our hearts a fire that was eternal and inextinguishable.
One week later my husband was baptized, and one year later we were sealed in the São Paulo Brazil Temple. We feel that sacrament meeting is the most important meeting we go to, and next in line is family home evening.
Elizabeth Duce de Mernies, Lezica Ward, Montevideo Uruguay North Stake