Gospel Story Finder

Some time before I was called as a General Authority, I faced a personal economic challenge that persisted for several years. At times this challenge threatened the welfare of my family and me, and I thought we might be facing financial ruin. I prayed for some miraculous intervention to deliver us. Although I offered that prayer many times with great sincerity and earnest desire, the answer in the end was “No.” Finally I learned to pray as the Savior did: “Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). I sought the Lord’s help with each tiny step along the way to a final resolution.

There were times when I had exhausted all my resources, when I had nowhere or no one to turn to at that moment. More than once I fell down before my Heavenly Father, begging in tears for His help. And He did help. Sometimes it was nothing more than a sense of peace, a feeling of assurance that things would work out. I might not see how or what the path would be, but He gave me to know that, directly or indirectly, He would open a way. Circumstances might change, a new and helpful idea might come to mind, some unanticipated income or other resource might appear at just the right time. Somehow there was a resolution.

Though I suffered then, as I look back now, I am grateful that there was not a quick solution to my problem. The fact that I was forced to turn to God for help almost daily over an extended period of years taught me truly how to pray and get answers to prayer and taught me in a very practical way to have faith in God. I came to know my Savior and my Heavenly Father in a way and to a degree that might not have happened otherwise or that might have taken me much longer to achieve. I learned that daily bread is a precious commodity. I learned that manna today can be as real as the physical manna of biblical history. I learned to trust in the Lord with all my heart. I learned to walk with Him day by day.

As I look back over my life and remember the difficult decisions, one stands out far more than others: Should I go on a mission? Mom and dad want me to go. The bishop tells me I should go. Some of my friends are going, but others tell me it would be a mistake. They say: “Think of the fun you’ll miss.” “What about your education?” “How about your girl friend?” It just seems that there is so much going on that I can’t give up two years. What should I do?
Why should you serve a mission? Several things come to my mind as I think about the answer to this searching question. Surely, the answer is easy: The Lord says you should; the prophet has given repeated emphasis to this; your family, Church leaders, and others encourage you to serve—but they are not you. I remember how good I felt, from the inside out, from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head, when I finally said yes. I received a confirmation from the Lord that what I had done was good. It was right, and I knew it. For once in my life I had started thinking about others instead of only myself, and that gave me a feeling I have yearned for every day of my life since. It’s rewarding to give of yourself that others might be blessed. This is one of the reasons why our Savior made the following statement: “And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. He that findeth his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.” (Matt. 10:38–39.)

One of the challenges, as well as a great blessing, of serving a mission is learning how to adjust to new situations. I served in the North German Mission and was still learning the language when I arrived. The first night I was in Germany, right after I dropped my bags off, my wonderful companion said, “Are you ready to go? Let’s go tracting!” I watched him go to two or three doors and talk to people. Then he pushed the doorbell and said, “It’s your turn!”
I’ll never forget the woman who came to the door while I stood there with a Book of Mormon in my hand. All those feelings of anxiety and nervousness that I’d felt when I stood at the pulpit as a child came back again. But because I had worked hard to learn the language and had experience teaching about the First Vision, I knew what I could say. She didn’t accept the Book of Mormon, and she shut the door on me. My companion looked at me and said, “Nice job, Elder Schwitzer. Welcome to Germany.”
Over time, being a missionary became easier as I had the opportunity to meet people and share the gospel. That’s what is amazing about the gospel of Jesus Christ: the more you testify, the more you grow as a missionary. You don’t just go out to serve a mission; you go out to become a missionary, and in the process you become a disciple of Jesus Christ.

When I was deciding if I should serve a mission, I was called to serve as a digital missionary in my home ward. In this calling, I was asked to share the gospel on social media by posting uplifting messages about Jesus Christ. I wanted to do my best, so I posted conference quotes, scriptures, and gospel insights on Instagram every day.
On most of my posts, I got likes and comments from people I knew, but there were also times when I would get likes and comments from people I didn’t know. One time, I shared part of an address by Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles about the principles of Jesus Christ’s gospel. A girl I didn’t know saw the post and reached out to me. Her name was Emma (name has been changed). She was a college student in England and had been searching for truths and more meaning in her life.
When Emma saw my post, she searched for and read the full talk by Elder Bednar and felt a deep desire to learn more. So, she started messaging me to ask questions about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and what I believe as a member. We had some insightful discussions as she expressed her interest in the gospel.
Over time we continued to reach out to each other and get to know each other. Eventually she became more and more interested in the Church, and I explained how she could get in touch with missionaries in her area. Soon she was meeting with them often!
After a few months of being taught, Emma accepted the invitation to be baptized, and she became a member of the Lord’s Church. She struggled for a while with difficult family relationships because of her desire to join the Church, but I was amazed by her courage and faith to keep moving forward with hope in Christ. Today, she loves the gospel and is so thankful for the effects it has had on her life.
Before I became connected with Emma, I had been contemplating serving a mission but had felt so uncertain and insignificant. I didn’t feel that my efforts to share the gospel would make a difference for anyone. But seeing how much Emma’s life changed simply because a stranger like me posted a message about Jesus Christ on social media, I was filled with hope that my desire to share the light of Christ as a full-time missionary and as a disciple of Jesus Christ could truly change people’s lives and bring them to Christ.
Emma and I continue to encourage each other and are now both serving full-time missions.
I know that Heavenly Father inspired me to post that original message from Elder Bednar on social media. The message was small and simple, but that’s all it took for Him to work a miracle.

Nicole Davie and Luwana Qummou of Brisbane, Australia, built a bridge together. It wasn’t a massive stone-and-steel structure like the one that arches over the bay behind them as they stroll the waterfront of Brisbane’s business district; Nicole and Luwana built a bridge of trust and love.
While they were teenagers, Nicole met Luwana at Sunnybank High School. They became good friends and have known each other for five years, including the past two years as university students.
“If the full-time missionaries had come to my door, I’m not sure if I would have listened to them,” Luwana says. “But Nicole was my friend. We had lots of fun at school, and I vaguely remember her talking about the Church. It took years before I felt comfortable asking about her religion.”
That finally happened late in 1993. “The first time we had a spiritual talk, she just wanted to learn more,” Nicole says. “She had a lot of questions and was troubled by some things she’d heard from others. I said a prayer for her that night, and I think the Holy Ghost went to work on her.”
“The next day, as we talked again, everything I’d been upset about didn’t seem to matter anymore,” Luwana says. “I felt the Holy Spirit strongly. I felt calm and happy. I knew I needed to study the Church, so I took the missionary discussions and started reading the Book of Mormon. The feelings got stronger and stronger.”
Friendship became a bridge of trust between Nicole and Luwana, and helped Luwana build a bridge of faith linking her to her Heavenly Father. With that kind of path to understanding, it wasn’t long before Luwana was baptized and became an enthusiastic member of the Church.
Now, as Luwana looks out over the waterfront in Brisbane, she knows she is building more bridges—bridges to eternity. Soon she will be married to a returned missionary in the Sydney Temple, and she thanks Nicole for the knowledge that made that possible.
“We’re best friends,” Luwana says. “To know that she wanted to see me marry a worthy man in the temple, that she wanted me to have that happiness, that’s really wonderful.”

While my older children were at school and the little ones napped, I spread the household bills across the kitchen table. I began this dreaded monthly task by praying for wisdom and ability to stretch our meager income. The tithing check, as always, would be the first one written.
When I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a young wife and mother, I had committed to pay tithing. I had never wavered from that promise. I was deeply distressed, however, by inadequate funds to cover yet another month of utility, mortgage, and insurance bills.
Now I was a single mother of six young children. I frequently felt overwhelmed by the constant workload, financial worries, and endless decisions involved in my efforts to be both mother and father with no extended family to give me relief or support.
As I sat at the table pleading with the Lord for His help and mercy, the Holy Ghost opened to my view a beautiful and comforting manifestation of the Savior’s love. I was able to see the money owed for household expenses with a new perspective as the sacred priorities of life were brought to my remembrance. I knew that our Heavenly Father wanted me to have the blessings promised to those who faithfully paid tithes and offerings. I also knew that tithe paying should be a joyful act of love, devoid of fear and worry.
As the Spirit of the Lord filled me, I found myself bearing testimony of convictions I had long held firm and sacred. My voice broke the silence of the kitchen as I declared that I would rather lose the water source to my house than lose the living water offered by the Savior. I would rather have no food on our table than be without the Bread of Life. I would prefer to endure the darkness and discomfort of no electricity than to forfeit the Light of Christ in my life. I would rather abide with my children in a tent than relinquish my privilege of entering the house of the Lord.
The burden of worry immediately lifted. My love for the Lord overcame the weakness generated by my fears. Our Heavenly Father is our deliverer, our benefactor, and our protector. He truly does supply all our needs. His promises are sure and unfailing. He commands us to pay tithing on our increase so that He may shower down blessings from heaven—including peace of mind, freedom from worldly and material worry, and confidence in His holy name.
From that day forward I have counted it a joy to pay my tithing, without reservation or fear, to Him and for Him who first loved me.

A few weeks ago, I was heavily swamped with several personal activities happening in my life. A prior commitment to help a sister with a need she had was approaching in the middle of all I had to do already. I found myself thinking almost despairingly, “How can I find joy in this service?” Immediately another thought occurred which caused me to reframe my perspective, “how can I find joy in His service?”
As I reframed my perspective, I was reminded that despite my less-than-ideal circumstances, my willingness to serve others and focus on Jesus Christ would bring me joy.

Kumar grew up near Panadura, Sri Lanka in below poverty conditions. He found it difficult to get enough to eat each day. His father was uneducated and worked very hard selling coconuts. He would hang king coconuts on his bicycle and try to sell them along the road. Sometimes, Kumar would go with him. Kumar described his father’s love and determination to provide for his family, “I saw his eyes when he didn’t sell the coconuts . . . he was so sad he couldn’t feed us. He was a very good man. He never smoked or drank alcohol.”

“When I was 16, I ‘came to Jesus’ on the road one day when I was walking alone. I was so hungry. There was a priest that helped me to come to the Church and build myself. God gave me everything, every day, through people. Now I’m very comfortable with many blessings and my wonderful wife and three children,” asserted Kumar.

Kumar said for many years he had a good relationship with Jesus. He said he has prayed to God daily for 30 years and has received help in times of need, “I’ve had many miracles in life.”

In December 2004, Kumar was taking a tour of southern Sri Lanka with a client from Germany. Unexpectedly, the man changed his plans and told him to drop him at his hotel by the beach. He told Kumar he would call him in a few days to continue his tour. Kumar could have stayed to enjoy the beach but decided to call his tour partners for another assignment. They asked him to take a client to Kandy, a mountain area in Sri Lanka. While in Kandy, he heard on the news that a terrible tsunami had hit southern Sri Lanka exactly where he was earlier that day. His client from Germany never called him back, as the hotel where he dropped him off was destroyed. Sri Lankan authorities reported over 31,000 confirmed dead with several thousand others missing, nearly 0.2 percent of the population of Sri Lanka.

Avoiding the tsunami reinforced Kumar’s commitment to pray. He thanked God for saving his life that day and continues to thank God in prayer daily.

I could run a long way in a minute.
Yesterday …
I ran two miles yesterday, like every other day. Fifteen laps, mouth shut all the way, to strengthen the heart and lungs.
Two miles a day, whether I felt like it or not.
I never could work out a labor-saving system for running two miles. Sometimes I tried running with short, quick strides, not lifting my feet very high off the track, and sometimes I tried bounding along with great, high strides. But no matter what method I used, two miles were still two miles, and every inch of them had to be run in the very old-fashioned way of throwing one foot in front of the other for as many times as it took to carry me all the way across the finish line.
There’s no way to sleight-of-hand a two-mile run …
The first two laps were always the hardest, because that was as far as most of the other fellows ever ran. I’d seen them come onto the track, run their two laps, and quit.
Some of them quit sooner.
Sometimes one of them would pass me, running just as hard as he could go, and I’d be tempted to race him. It bothered me to have anyone pass me on the track.
But I’d let him go, and in a lap or two I’d pass him back.
Sometimes he’d be walking, sometimes he’d be standing still, and sometimes he’d be doubled over at the edge of the track, gasping for breath like a chronic smoker.
I had fifteen laps to go, and I didn’t dare forget it. I had my choice of racing with the sprinters or running my fifteen laps.
One or the other.
But not both.
I did race with the sprinters a few times …
The competition was a thrill!
I’d be running along at a good two-mile speed, and I’d hear one of these sprinters coming up behind me, moving fast. He’d swing out around me and start to pass, and I’d let him get two or three strides ahead of me; then I’d hit it with all the speed I had and pass him like a blur!
Or else I’d pass him slowly, staying just a chest ahead of him, until he was at his absolute limit.
Then I’d move like a race horse and show him what a distance runner could do in an all-out sprint!
One day I walked onto the track and sprinted for two laps, keeping to the outer edge of the track and passing every man in sight.
I couldn’t stand to have the sprinters think that I was a distance runner only because I didn’t have the power and speed to sprint. I fed my ego, but I used up the wind I needed for my two miles.
I decided I had to choose between my wind and my ego. I chose my wind.
In a marathon, ego is no substitute for endurance.
I had to coexist with the sprinters. I had no more to gain by racing them in their sprints than they did by racing me in my distance runs.
I never raced them again.
If I raced with them, I didn’t make my fifteen laps.
You can’t win your own game by playing someone else at his, even if you beat him. There’s no way in the world you can win your own game without playing your own game …
And somewhere along the line, I made a decision in cold blood—my game was the two-mile game; I was running to win.
After that I ran my two miles every day, at a two-mile pace, and left the sprinting to the sprinters.
But the first two laps were still the hardest. That was probably because I could always think of so many good reasons why I should quit at the end of the first two laps.
There was only one way I could get past that point—I just had to grit my teeth and keep on running.
And I did …
The rest of the first mile was easier, but at the end of it was another mental barrier. After running one mile all the way to the finish line, I found myself at the starting line of another mile to run, and knew that I had to begin at the beginning and do it all over again.
I tried to ignore the quitter hidden in my mind, the traitor who liked to relax in a mental easy chair and taunt me: “A mile’s enough for anyone …”
I had to keep complete control crossing that dual line, the quitter-killer line, where quitters quit and winners keep on running.
That line killed a lot of quitters …
But once I crossed the line, I crossed the border into a new world, where the air came easier, and my body was lighter, and my brain was quicker and clearer.
The ultimate reward for running the first mile was the opportunity to run the second.
The second mile …
A mile of meditation, and even … relaxation. My brain was rich with oxygen, and I did some of my best thinking bounding along that second mile.
I thought of the physical world and its laws, and I thought of the fine arts and their expression, and I thought of people and their feelings. Especially the people I loved.
And sometimes I pretended she would be there waiting for me, just beyond the finish line …
Why didn’t I tell her how I loved her?
* * *
The last minute must be running out.
The game is finished.
And it wasn’t a two-mile game …
The heart is dead. All used up. Like a candle sputtering out when the last drop of wax is burned away.
Still …
This heart carried me over a lot of miles …
It was a two-mile heart. The heart of the two-mile game …
Can it really be dead?
How can it be dead?
I don’t believe …
I don’t believe it can be dead!
Come on, you two-mile heart! You CAN‘T be dead!
I have things I haven’t finished yet. I have things I haven’t even begun …
Beat! You can!
Beat! You will!
BEAT! I feel it coming …
BEAT! Almost …
THERE!
It beat!
I FELT it beat!
Exhausted …
Relax …
The first two are the hardest …
Now …
Beat! Almost …
Again, with more will …
BEAT!
Nothing …
Was the first time only my imagination?
For her sake …
BEAT!
AGAIN!
I felt it beat again!
AGAIN! …
Again! …
Again …
Again …
The second mile …
The mile of meditation …
Relaxation …
And very soon I’ll tell her how I love her …
“Nurse …”
“Yes; how are you feeling now?” “Much better, thanks, Would you let me have a pen and paper, please? I’d like to write a Christmas letter.”
* * *
The first mile is finished. The second is yet to run.
The second mile …
A soft, golden path, winding through green grass and tall trees, and leading—
Somewhere …
To her?
We’ll see where it leads. It’s a two-mile game, and it isn’t finished yet.
And now …
Now I’ll tell her how I love her …

I placed my heavy textbook down on the table as the bell rang for first period. My biology teacher was finishing up some work at his computer. “Hello Hop,” he said as I walked in. I sat down and unzipped my pink backpack, pulling out my homework while the other students came through the open door. I had worked hard to get my worksheet on plants done late the night before.
I greeted my friend sitting in the chair next to me. I had fun chatting with her every morning at the beginning of biology class.
“Emily, I need your help,” she said.
“What can I do for you?” I responded cheerfully.
“I couldn’t get my homework done, and I was wondering if I could use your answers. I’ve missed so much being sick, and I really need to get this assignment in or my grade will drop.”
My mind started to whirl. “But isn’t that cheating?” I questioned in amazement.
“Well, I already did this assignment, I just don’t have it with me now. Can I hurry and copy your paper before class starts?”
She was my friend and I really wanted to help her. It was a fill-in-the-blank worksheet, so the teacher wouldn’t know they were my answers. He was busy, so he wouldn’t see her copying my notes. I sat there undecided, a battle raging in my mind. Should I help her cheat, or should I refuse to help my friend? It was true that she had been sick and missed a lot of class, and I really wanted to be a good friend.
As I hesitated, my mind made a long list of reasons why it would be OK to help her. On the other hand, I knew it wouldn’t be right. Then I made a choice. I wanted to be a reliable friend, but even more, I wanted to be honest.
Apprehensively, I turned toward her. “I wish I could help you, but I don’t feel right about letting you use my answers,” I said. “I am really sorry.”
It was hard for me to disappoint my friend, but I had a good feeling inside, one that comes from knowing I had kept my integrity and been honest even with a good friendship on the line. As my teacher started the day’s lesson, many students in that first period biology class thought it was just a normal day. But for me, it was a day to remember. That day marked an important decision in my life. That choice defined what was honest and what wasn’t honest. The next time I faced someone asking me to share my answers, I had already made my decision. I had made the resolve to be honest under all circumstances.

I have always loved the story of the son of King Louis XVI of France because he had an unshakable knowledge of his identity. As a young man, he was kidnapped by evil men who had dethroned his father, the king. These men knew that if they could destroy him morally, he would not be heir to the throne. For six months they subjected him to every vile thing life had to offer, and yet he never yielded under pressure. This puzzled his captors, and after doing everything they could think of, they asked him why he had such great moral strength. His reply was simple. He said, “I cannot do what you ask, for I was born to be a king.”

Atsede Demissie Arega had dreams 20 years ago that brought her to the Church. Before joining, she used to regularly ask herself, “where is God?”
She found God in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She said that before April 2024, she used to only be able to see general conference sessions weeks later at her branch meetinghouse, now she can watch general conference live in her home. “I am so grateful,” she said, “I feel that God is looking after Ethiopia.”
She invited the full-time missionaries in her branch to come to her home to watch general conference. She also invited all her neighbors to come and watch or to watch it in their own homes.
“I feel that God is looking after Ethiopia,” remarked Atsede Demissie Arega, when talking about the historic broadcast of general conference in Ethiopia.

Illustration by David Habben
Gabi and her friend Milo were playing in the dirt in her yard.
“Hey, look at this,” Milo said. He had what looked like a rock in his hand, but when he squished it, it turned into powdery dirt.
“Whoa!” Gabi said. “Are there more of those?”
They dug through the dirt and found several more clods.
“Watch this,” Gabi said, and she threw a dirt clod high up in the air. It sailed over the chain link fence and landed on the neighbor’s driveway, breaking in a big smear of dust.
“Awesome!” Milo said, and they took turns throwing the clods and watching them explode.
Suddenly Gabi heard a car driving up.
“Oh no,” she said. “Someone’s coming. Hide!”
They ducked around the edge of Gabi’s house just as the car pulled over the driveway and into the garage. They giggled nervously. They heard the car door open and shut.
“Who threw dirt in my driveway?” they heard a voice say. Gabi knew that must be Mrs. Fietzer, her elderly neighbor. “How am I going to clean this up?”
Milo laughed quietly, but Gabi didn’t feel like laughing.
After Milo went home, Gabi went inside and tried to play with her dolls, but she couldn’t get Mrs. Fietzer’s sad voice out of her head. Mrs. Fietzer lived alone, and old age made it hard for her to do many things, including cleaning up her driveway.
Gabi hadn’t meant to be rude to Mrs. Fietzer, but now she realized that throwing the dirt had been mean. She felt sad and sorry for what she had done.
Then Gabi remembered a lesson she had had in Primary about repentance.
“When you do something wrong,” her teacher had said, “you need to first feel sorry about it. Then you apologize and ask for forgiveness and make it better if you can. Then you promise not to make the mistake again.”
I can make this right! Gabi thought.
Gabi went to the garage and grabbed a big push broom. Then she got to work sweeping the dirt off the driveway. It took a long time, but finally the driveway was clean again.
Then Gabi rang Mrs. Fietzer’s doorbell. When Mrs. Fietzer opened the door, she seemed surprised to see Gabi.
“Well, hello there,” she said.
“Hi, Mrs. Fietzer,” Gabi said. She felt scared, but she prayed for courage. “I was the one who threw dirt onto your driveway earlier today.”
“Oh, was that you?” Mrs. Fietzer asked. She looked a little sad.
“But I cleaned it up!” Gabi said, lifting the broom in her hand. “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Fietzer. I promise I won’t ever do it again. Will you forgive me?”
A smile spread across Mrs. Fietzer’s face. “Yes, of course I forgive you,” she said. “Thank you for cleaning it up.”
Gabi looked at Mrs. Fietzer’s big mulberry trees and had an idea.
“Can I help you rake your leaves in the fall too?” Gabi asked.
“That’s very sweet of you,” Mrs. Fietzer said. “But you don’t have to. You already made up for what you did.”
“But I want to. Please?” Gabi asked.
Mrs. Fietzer agreed. Gabi said goodbye and skipped all the way back to her house. She was glad that when she did something wrong, she could make it right again.

As a teenager I attended stake conference with my parents. Elder Harold B. Lee was the presiding authority and speaker.

My father had been up all night long watering his 10-acre field of strawberries. He was fighting to stay awake and most of the time losing the battle. But he wouldn’t think of staying away from stake conference, especially knowing that Elder Lee would be speaking.

We were all a little surprised when Elder Lee stood and started calling some young women from the audience to share their testimonies. My father, who was usually right about such things, poked me and said, “You’ll be the next speaker.” I thought, Surely he will not call on me. I’m sitting in the first row of the recreation hall. As I looked up the aisle, I realized how far it would be to the pulpit. I was the next to be called. And sure enough, it was the longest walk I’d taken in my life.

I accepted that invitation from Elder Lee, and as I walked back to my seat, dear people in the audience would squeeze my arm or pat my hand. I was lifted by that experience, and we will each be lifted as we gain the courage to accept invitations from the Lord and His leaders. The invitation to walk with the Lord is a long walk.

At age 16 Soon Joo Park was baptized in Seoul, Korea. When she was 21, she knew, after much prayer, that her Father in Heaven wanted her to serve a full-time mission. She discussed it with her bishop, was interviewed by him, and began making preparations. But her nonmember parents were unhappy with her decision. Her father was particularly distressed. When she received a call to serve in the Salt Lake Temple Square Mission, she put her faith in the Lord and boarded a plane for the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah.
While on the plane, Sister Park wrote a letter to her father. She told him where she would be for the next 18 months and tried to explain how important it was for her to serve a mission. A short time later, she received a letter from her father saying that he loved her and understood her desire to serve.
Temple Square brought Soon Joo Park and her father together. Tourists from all over the world also come together on Temple Square in Salt Lake City, Utah, to learn about the Savior and his Church. More than 5 million people visit Temple Square each year, and some 200 missionaries greet and guide them through their visits.
What makes this mission unique is that no full-time elders serve in it. Several missionary couples serve on Temple Square in a Church-service capacity, so there are some senior elders on the Square. But they do not serve full time. All the full-time missionaries are sisters.
Within the relatively small area of their mission’s few city blocks—which include the Salt Lake Temple, the Tabernacle, the Assembly Hall, two visitors’ centers, several pioneer monuments, and the Joseph Smith Memorial Building—these sisters are helping to fulfill the prophecy that “every man shall hear the fulness of the gospel in his own tongue, and in his own language” (D&C 90:11).
Because visitors from so many nations come to Temple Square, the missionaries serving there speak on a daily basis the greatest number of languages of any mission in the world—making it perhaps the most international mission in the Church. Of the more than 3,000 motor coach bus tours that visited last year, more than half brought non-English speaking visitors. At any given time, as many as 30 different languages may be spoken on the Square.
Sister Najet Rahou of Nice, France, was excited when she received her call to Temple Square because she knew it would allow her to use the five languages she speaks—French, Spanish, English, Hindi, and Afrikaans. During the summer months, when the number of visitors is the highest, she speaks several of these languages daily.
Sister Mireille Van Tonder of Bordeaux, France, also speaks five languages—Afrikaans, French, Dutch, English, and German. She recently spoke with a young woman visiting from South Africa. Sister Van Tonder, who was born in South Africa, was able to tell the visitor about the Church in her native language. The young woman was surprised and excited to learn that the Church was in her own country and that she could be taught by missionaries when she returned home.
Many visitors the missionaries speak with are like this young woman from South Africa—they return home and are taught by others. This kind of proselyting is another reason the Salt Lake Temple Square Mission is so unusual. Temple Square missionaries teach visitors of the divinity of Jesus Christ and about the history of the Church primarily through tours and presentations; they do not give the standard missionary discussions or see converts baptized. They send the names of those interested in knowing more about the Church to the missions where the people live.
“Other missions find, teach, baptize, and fellowship. We only find, but we are very successful finders,” says Robert Charles Witt, former president of the Temple Square Mission.
Sister Cheri Reid of American Samoa explains the sisters’ role: “We are instruments in the Lord’s hands, and we share our testimonies a lot. We help people recognize the role the Lord plays in their lives to strengthen and uplift them.”
Sister Erika Lecaros of Lima, Peru, says of serving on Temple Square: “It’s one of the hardest missions because you give so much of yourself—yet you don’t get to see the results. You give the people all you can and share the Spirit and bear your testimony, but you rarely find out what happens to them.”
Because their responsibilities at Temple Square are so unique, each Temple Square missionary spends four months of her 18-month mission serving in another mission in the United States. This gives her an opportunity to give the standard missionary discussions and work with members of the Church.
For example, Sister Tiziana Vacirca, from the Novara Branch, Italy Milan Mission, spent four months serving in the New York New York South Mission. Although New York is very different from Utah, Sister Vacirca says she saw so many people there from all over the world that it reminded her of Temple Square.
There is a lot of behind-the-scenes work at Temple Square to keep the mission organized and running smoothly. Fortunately, the mission office is on the Square, so the missionaries are able to work with and see their mission president on a daily basis.
The sisters’ daily schedules are planned out carefully to accommodate different preparation days, shifts, languages, training, and tours. There are more than 150 specific duties for which missionaries are trained and to which they are assigned at various times. Some of these duties include greeting visitors as they enter and exit Temple Square, conducting the various tours offered to visitors, answering questions at information desks, helping visitors using the FamilySearch® Center to look for family history information, and assisting those wishing to see Legacy, a Church-produced film portraying pioneer courage.
Temple Square missionaries also donate several hours each week in additional service. They volunteer at Welfare Square in Salt Lake City, where they sort used clothing for worldwide distribution to the needy, assist patrons in the bishops’ storehouse, teach English as a second language to any wishing to learn, and work in the cannery or dairy.
This experience proved useful for Sister Ilona Machinic of Vilnius, Lithuania, who met a Russian man on Temple Square. Able to speak to him in his native language, she discovered that he needed assistance and was able to call upon the resources of Welfare Square to help him. He gratefully went on his way, promising to repay the kindness of the Church somehow.
Like all missionaries, Temple Square missionaries have one day every week as a preparation day. Their mission is also like all others in that they have district meetings, zone conferences, and transfers. Transfers may include a change in apartments, zones, companions, preparation days, or shifts.
Since all the full-time missionaries in the mission are sisters, all the leaders and trainers are sisters. Another unique aspect of the mission is that the sisters don’t spend all their time working in tandem with their companions. While they do serve together on the Square as companions, they are often given individual assignments.
There is an ongoing spiritual excitement on Temple Square due to a variety of uplifting activities, such as general conference, Tabernacle Choir rehearsals and performances, and concerts in the Assembly Hall. The sisters are also able to attend sessions at the Salt Lake Temple twice a month on their preparation days.
Sister Tupou Naeata of Tonga explains that even with that excitement, there are challenges: “The Temple Square Mission is not as difficult physically as it is spiritually. There is such a great responsibility to be an example and to smile all the time and to always have the Spirit. It is amazing how God works through us.”
For example, Sister Lai Chong Wong of Hong Kong was conducting a tour for seven Cantonese visitors. Two of the visitors were asking a lot of tough questions and making negative comments to others on the tour; this type of experience is not uncommon, because people often come to Temple Square with preconceived ideas about the Church. However, the Spirit was so strong that Sister Wong was able to answer all of their questions and help the other visitors feel the Spirit.
What seems common to all the missionaries on Temple Square is their love for the Lord and their love for one another. The great unifying force on Temple Square is the Lord’s Spirit. It does not matter that the missionaries come from many different cultures. It does not matter that they speak different languages. During the time they serve together on Temple Square, they truly are of one heart.
“Even though my time on Temple Square will end, I will always wear my name tag in my heart, and my mission will continue through my life,” says Sister Lecaros, voicing the thoughts of missionaries serving throughout the world.

After reading the Book of Mormon, seminary students in Sidney, Montana, went to pizzas. Twenty-one of them.
Brother Charles L. Duncan, seminary teacher, challenged the entire Sidney Branch to read the Book of Mormon before the night of seminary graduation. He promised a pizza party to everyone accepting and accomplishing his challenge.
Of those taking on the challenge, some were really speedy, finishing the book in a matter of weeks. Some procrastinators read the last 100 pages in the final two days. When the deadline passed, over 70 percent of those accepting the challenge had finished and were qualified to attend the pizza party. A total of 16,434 pages were read.
The youngest person to read the Book of Mormon during the challenge was nine-year-old Dean White. He finished it long before most of the older readers. A nonmember, David Pope, finished reading the Book of Mormon and was baptized soon after the pizza party. Brother Duncan’s children, too young to read themselves, had the Book of Mormon read to them during meals.
On the night of the party, the Book of Mormon scholars descended on the Duncan home armed with pepperoni, mozzarella, olives, and mushrooms. Soon 21 pizzas were made and eaten.

We are reminded of a young boy whose home was threatened by a severe storm. All day there had been reports of it on the radio and when evening came, he and his mother heard frightening warnings. The boy grew more and more upset. Suddenly, with a loud crash, the power failed. The radio became silent and the house was plunged into darkness. Then the mother heard muffled sobs from her young son.

“Try not to be upset,” she told him. “We’ve prepared as well as we could. After all, we are together, and there’s nothing more we can do about it.”

“I know,” he answered. “I know there’s nothing we can do about it. But isn’t there something more we can do about us?”

So in the darkness the mother and the boy knelt together and prayed for courage and comfort and safety. The storm did not cease, but a sweet peace came to them and stayed in their hearts until help arrived.

The evening before each of the temple dedications took place, magnificent cultural events were held. In Curitiba, Brazil, 4,330 members from the temple district, supported by a choir of 1,700 voices, presented a most inspirational program through song, dance, and video. The enormous soccer stadium where the event took place was filled with spectators. The wind had been blowing, and rain threatened. I offered a silent prayer asking Heavenly Father to look with mercy upon those who had prepared so diligently for our entertainment and whose costumes and presentations would be damaged if a heavy rain or wind enveloped them. He honored that prayer, and it wasn’t until the end of the show and later on that evening that rain fell in abundance.

During trips to Newcastle, 17-year-old Aidan and his mother went to see various shows. One of these was the Book of Mormon musical.
After leaving the show, they encountered some real missionaries standing outside. Curious to know more of the Church, Aidan set up an appointment for him to meet with them another day. Aidan has always believed in God, been interested in hearing about different religions and has been curious to find and meet with missionaries.
When the missionaries spoke of the plan of salvation, the restoration, and the Book of Mormon, Aiden felt that this was exactly what he had been waiting for all this time. It immediately made sense to him. In between the lessons, Aidan also did his own research into the beliefs of the Church. He quickly decided to be baptised.
Aidan’s mother has been very supportive of her son’s decision to join. From the beginning, she attended church with him in Alnwick, Northumberland to support his wishes. One local member said, “It has been great to watch them attend church together, and you can only admire the mother with the way she both protects and supports him”.
As the months have gone by, Aidan’s mother also decided she wanted to be baptised.
As people embrace their curiosity, seek out authentic sources, and explore their faith together, miracles can occur.

A few years ago I had the assignment while at a stake conference to interview a 21-year-old man to determine his worthiness to serve a mission. Now, General Authorities do not usually interview potential missionaries. So this was unusual. As I read some background regarding the reasons for my interview, my heart ached. This boy had committed serious transgressions. I wondered why I would be asked to visit one with such a background, concluding it would be most unusual for me to recommend him for approval as a missionary.
After the Saturday evening session of conference, I retired to the stake president’s office for the interview. As I was waiting, a handsome young man with a wonderful countenance approached. I wondered how I could excuse myself because it was apparent he wanted to talk and I had an appointment with a very troubled young man. Then he introduced himself. He was the young man I was there for.
In the privacy of the office, I asked just one question: “Why am I interviewing you?”
He recounted his past. When he was through, he began to explain the steps and the personal suffering he had gone through. He talked about the Atonement—the infinite power of the Atonement. He bore his testimony and expressed his love for the Savior. And then he said, “I believe the Savior’s personal suffering in Gethsemane and His sacrifice upon the cross were powerful enough to rescue even a man like me.”
Moved by his humility and by the Spirit, I said, “I am going to recommend you to serve as a representative of Jesus Christ.” And then I said, “I am going to ask only one thing of you. I want you to be the best missionary in the entire Church. That is all.”
Three or four months later, Sister Edgley and I were speaking at a missionary training center. At the conclusion of the devotional, I was visiting with missionaries when I saw a young man with a familiar face.
He asked, “Do you remember me?”
Somewhat embarrassed, I said, “I’m sorry. I know I should, but I just don’t remember.”
Then he said, “Let me tell you who I am. I am the best missionary in the missionary training center.” And I believed him.
This young man’s hope was based not only upon a knowledge and testimony of the Atonement but also upon a personalization of this gift. He understood that it was for him personally! He knew the power of the Atonement and the hope it gives when all might seem lost or hopeless.