Gospel Story Finder

Among those who Joseph, 15, and his 19-year-old sister, Alexandra, helped bring to the gospel are their mother and father.
“Our parents came to our baptism,” Joseph said. “It was outside, in a swimming pool. The birds and crickets were singing in the background. The spirit was so strong, and our parents became more interested. The next day, in sacrament meeting, we were asked to bear our testimonies. Dad had to work, but Mom was there, and she recorded us so he could hear us too.”
Joseph and Alexandra quickly became active and energetic members. They both play musical instruments, the recorder and the guitar, and they love to sing, both hymns and folk music. In the ward, their love of music is infectious. So is their love of the gospel. They frequently help the missionaries and are great aids in integrating investigators, especially their parents.
“We would share our Church activities with our parents at dinner,” says Joseph. “We would invite them to come to church with us, and they often came.”
It was really only a matter of time before the senior Szamosfalvis were baptized—by their son, Joseph, of course. And once they joined, Church membership drastically changed their lives. Not only did Joseph Sr. change jobs so he could attend church on Sundays, but he sold the family vineyard and the family bar. They feel the Lord has opened all sorts of doors for them and look forward to a bright future.

Dieuveut Demosthène, 18, and Robenson Marcel Laroque Jean, 19, are the best of friends. And they intend to keep it that way. Forever.
“We were neighbors, and we played basketball together,” Robenson explains. “I joined the Church when I was 16, and after a while I suggested to Dieuveut that he should come too. I prayed a lot, and I persisted. Now look at him, a strong member of the Church. I’m proud of him.”
“Robenson invited me many times,” Dieuveut says, “and over time I accepted. He has always spoken with superb words, like he understands everything. So his invitation wasn’t worrisome; it was extraordinary. After a while I started having lessons with the missionaries, and I joined the Church when I was 17.”
That’s the ideal way for missionary work to be done—friends sharing the gospel with friends and giving referrals to the missionaries to teach them. “From me—one person in the Church—now we are two, and we continue the same work together,” Robenson says. As a result of their efforts, one of Dieuveut’s big brothers and another friend have also joined the Church. One became two, and two became four.
Robenson and Dieuveut, from the Centrale Ward, Port-au-Prince Haiti North Stake, typify what is happening with missionary work in Haiti since missionaries from other countries were evacuated in 2005 because of political turmoil. The Haiti Port-au-Prince Mission has looked to itself for strength and found it. Today only Haitians serve missions in Haiti, and teens expect to serve when they come of age. Even before they’re called to full-time missions, they’re already reaching out to neighbors and friends.
Rather, Dieuveut says, as people realize the happiness the gospel brings, the Church in Haiti will keep growing. “I am truly grateful to Robenson for sharing the gospel with me,” he says, “and that’s why I want to share the gospel with others. Last week I asked myself, in the past did I know what joy was? Because today, even if I don’t have everything materially that I want, I always feel at peace with myself. I have a great hope that I will be close to my Heavenly Father.”
“I’m already trying to be a missionary,” Robenson says. “Each day I carry my backpack with several copies of the Book of Mormon in it, just to share with others. Many of them know I’m a member of the Church, and I’m eager to share my testimony. To go on a full-time mission will be a great opportunity to serve God by serving His children. It is my great desire to go.”
Dieuveut says he often talks with returned missionaries. “They have told me how the Lord was able to bless people through the missionaries, and I would like to share in such blessings. They have told me how they lived in the mission field, how much they enjoyed it. Also, after their missions, they are worthy, good examples. I want to be like that.”
What will the future bring? “Heavenly Father has His plan for Haiti,” Dieuveut says. “He is giving members here the opportunity to become strong. It is Haitians teaching Haitians, and that will bless us.”
Robenson will soon receive his mission call, and he hopes it’s to Haiti. Dieuveut won’t be far behind and also hopes to serve in his native land. But whether they’re called to Haiti or to some other country, they know that they will make many more friends in the Church and that their own friendship will continue. Because when you’re friends in the gospel, you’re friends for eternity.

When WWII broke out, Len and Ken were eager to serve and enlisted early. Len served in the 9th Division Cavalry (tanks) from 1938 to 1948, fighting in Egypt, El Alamein, Syria, and Borneo.
His experiences at war quickly taught him the fragility and value of life. During one campaign, Len’s commander ordered him to fire on an Italian gunner. Len pressed the wrong button, bringing the tank to a stop. The men on the tank vacated and were eventually replaced by another group. Soon after, the Italian gunner hit the tank with a shell, killing everyone inside.
“It was a pretty nasty experience,” remembers Len. “I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t pressed that button.”

Merry Christmas, Grandma and Grandpa, my two favorite missionaries!
Love, Abby
Abby underlined the word love as her brother, Zac, marched into the living room.
“What are you doing?” Zac asked as he peered over Abby’s shoulder.
“Finishing my Christmas card for Grandma and Grandpa. Are you done with yours?” Abby looked up at Zac as he dropped a fistful of crayons onto the table.
Zac shook his head. “I don’t really want to make a card for them.”
“Why?” Abby asked, surprised.
Zac shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems strange not having Grandma and Grandpa come to visit us. I miss hearing Grandpa’s great stories, and it doesn’t seem the same without Grandma serving her secret-recipe pumpkin pie.”
Abby nodded. “It’s been three months since Grandpa and Grandma left on their mission. We’ve never gone that long without seeing them. I miss them too.”
“I always thought if people loved you, they wouldn’t want to leave you.”
Abby glanced around the living room at the four red knit stockings hung on the mantelpiece, the garland strung around the kitchen doorway, and the colored lights blinking brightly on the Christmas tree. Suddenly her gaze became fixed on the Nativity scene placed on a small wooden table in the corner of the room.
“Come with me,” Abby said, gently tugging Zac’s sleeve. She led him over to the table. “Isn’t this beautiful?”
“Sure,” Zac said with a puzzled look on his face.
Abby carefully picked up two shepherd figures and three small white sheep from the manger scene. She set them on the floor beside her. “Zac, what if an angel hadn’t appeared to the shepherds, telling them Jesus was born?”
“Abby,” Zac said, upset, “the manger doesn’t look right without the shepherds and the sheep.”
“I know,” Abby said softly. “Help me put these back in place.”
She pressed the shepherds into his hands. “The shepherds knew about Jesus because somebody told them. But, Zac,” she said as he placed the shepherds close to the manger, “there are a lot of people who don’t know about Jesus.”
Zac was quiet as he ran his fingers over the top of the stable. “And Grandma and Grandpa are going to find them and teach them about Him.”
“That’s right. Think what a special Christmas this will be for the families Grandma and Grandpa are teaching the gospel to.”
“I still miss them,” Zac said, almost in a whisper.
“Me, too,” Abby agreed.
Zac scooped up his crayons. “See you later,” he said.
“Where are you going?” Abby asked.
“I have to make a Christmas card for Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Show it to me when you’re finished, OK?” Abby called as her brother disappeared around the corner. Her gaze returned to the Nativity scene. She smiled as she gently touched the small star above the manger. “Merry Christmas, Grandma and Grandpa.”

I wish to begin this evening by reading a dream which President Joseph F. Smith had as a young man. As some of you know, President Joseph F. Smith was the sixth President of the Church. He served from 1901 to 1918, a period of 17 years.
He was the son of Hyrum Smith, who was the brother of the Prophet Joseph Smith. He was born at Far West, Missouri, on November 13, 1838. When the Saints were driven out of Missouri, he was brought to Illinois as an infant. His father was killed in Carthage Jail at the time the Prophet Joseph was murdered. As a boy not yet 6 years of age, he heard a knock on the window of his mother’s home in Nauvoo. It was a horseman to tell his mother that her husband had been killed at Carthage that afternoon. What a sobering and terrible experience that was for a little boy.
At the age of 9 this fatherless lad drove an ox team with his mother across the plains to this valley. At the age of 15, he was called on a mission to Hawaii. He made his way to San Francisco and there worked in a shingle mill to earn enough money to get to the islands.
Hawaii was not a tourist center then. It was peopled largely by the native Hawaiians. They were, for the most part, poor but generous with what they had. He learned to speak their language and to love them. He never lost his love for the Hawaiian people, nor did they for him. I give you this as background for the dream which he had when he was serving there as a very young man. I quote his words:
“I was very much oppressed, once, [when I was] on a mission. I was almost naked and entirely friendless, except the friendship of a poor, benighted … people. I felt as if I was so debased in my condition of poverty, lack of intelligence and knowledge, just a boy, that I hardly dared look a … man in the face.
“While in that condition I dreamed [one night] that I was on a journey, and I was impressed that I ought to hurry—hurry with all my might, for fear I might be too late. I rushed on my way as fast as I possibly could, and I was only conscious of having just a little bundle, a handkerchief with a small bundle wrapped in it. I did not realize just what it was, when I was hurrying as fast as I could; but finally I came to a wonderful mansion. … I thought I knew that was my destination. As I passed towards it, as fast as I could, I saw a notice, ‘Bath.’ I turned aside quickly and went into the bath and washed myself clean. I opened up this little bundle that I had, and there was a pair of white, clean garments, a thing I had not seen for a long time, because the people I was with did not think very much of making things exceedingly clean. But my garments were clean, and I put them on. Then I rushed to what appeared to be a great opening, or door. I knocked and the door opened, and the man who stood there was the Prophet Joseph Smith. He looked at me a little reprovingly, and the first words he said: ‘Joseph, you are late.’ Yet I took confidence and [replied]:
“‘Yes, but I am clean—I am clean!’
“He clasped my hand and drew me in, then closed the great door. I felt his hand just as tangible as I ever felt the hand of man. I knew him, and when I entered I saw my father, and Brigham [Young] and Heber [C. Kimball], and Willard [Richards], and other good men that I had known, standing in a row. I looked as if it were across this valley, and it seemed to be filled with a vast multitude of people, but on the stage were all the people that I had known. My mother was there, and she sat with a child in her lap; and I could name over as many as I remember of their names, who sat there, who seemed to be among the chosen, among the exalted. …
“[When I had this dream] I was alone on a mat, away up in the mountains of Hawaii—no one was with me. But in this vision I pressed my hand up against the Prophet, and I saw a smile cross his countenance. …
“When I awoke that morning I was a man, although only a boy. There was not anything in the world that I feared [after that]. I could meet any man or woman or child and look them in the face, feeling in my soul that I was a man every whit. That vision, that manifestation and witness that I enjoyed at that time has made me what I am, if I am anything that is good, or clean, or upright before the Lord, if there is anything good in me. That has helped me out in every trial and through every difficulty” (Gospel Doctrine, 5th ed. [1939], 542–43).
The core of that meaningful dream is found in the reproof given by Joseph Smith to young Joseph F. Said the Prophet, “Joseph, you are late.”
Replied Joseph F., “Yes, but I am clean—I am clean!”
The result of that dream was that a boy was changed into a man. His declaration “I am clean” gave him self-assurance and courage in facing anyone or any situation. He received the strength that comes from a clear conscience fortified by the approbation of the Prophet Joseph.
In conclusion I return to where I started with the dream of a poor boy who was sleeping alone on a mountain and saw a mansion toward which he hurried. Before entering, he stopped to cleanse himself and dress himself in clean garments. He was reproved for being late. He replied, “Yes, but I am clean!” The Prophet Joseph smiled, and Joseph F. Smith, that young missionary, eventually succeeded to the office of prophet and President himself. What a testimony. God bless us to walk with clean hands and pure hearts and be worthy of His smile of approbation, I humbly ask in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

At the far side of Oslo, Norway, a tall, fair-haired Otto Monson could see his destination, a stately mansion. The day was pleasantly warm, and it felt good to be out.
After half an hour Otto decided the walk to the mansion would take longer than he had expected. Not wanting to be late, he turned off the main road and cut through a maze of narrow back streets. The streets were tortuous, twisting through the poorer part of the city. The area was known for its high crime rate, and Otto, dressed in a clean, pressed suit and a white shirt, felt uneasy walking alone there. A short distance from the mansion he came to a lone row of rotting, chicken-coop houses.
It was a rule in the mission that missionaries were to speak Norwegian, and it had been over a year since Otto had heard a word of spoken English. He was passing close to one of the small chicken-coop houses when he heard a commanding voice in English:
“Go into that house,” it demanded.
Otto stopped, his face a little pale. He looked around; there was no one in sight. The streets were vacant. Why go in there? he thought. He seriously doubted if anyone could live in that rotting shack. The cow sheds back home were more fit to live in than that. Looking around he continued walking. As he walked, the voice, now small but strong, repeated the command.
“Go into that house.”
I have another appointment, he thought. Besides, what in that rotting pile of rags and filth could be important, more important than an appointment with the wealthiest man in Oslo, an educated man, a man of importance, a man of influence?
Two days before, the man had contacted President Christopherson, the president of the Norwegian Mission, and asked if someone could come and explain the principles of the LDS doctrine to him. Otto, a clerk in the mission offices, had felt a sense of pride when President Christopherson asked him to go. How could he stop now? He couldn’t be late.
“Go into that house,” the voice repeated.
Otto could see the gate of the mansion when he stopped and turned back. I must be crazy, he thought. I’ll bet no one even lives there.
He knocked on the door of the shack.
From inside the building he heard the sound of shuffling feet and the creak of boards. His skin shivered. The door swung inward on leather hinges, and the sallow face of an old, old woman appeared. She looked as old as time itself, he thought. She smelled of sickness and old age, and he knew from her appearance that she was near death, but she looked up and smiled at him, a little painfully. He could sense a terrible loneliness in her. A loneliness that pricked at his conscience so deeply and painfully that he wanted to turn and run, to get away from her sight, from the warm, brown eyes.
“Yes?” she said; her voice was weak but pleasant sounding.
Otto wondered what he should say or do.
“I’m from America,” he said. It was all he could think of.
“I once knew a boy who went to America,” she said.
“What was his name?” Otto asked politely, wondering what he was doing here when he was late for another appointment, an important appointment. He wanted to tell her he had made a mistake, that he had knocked on the wrong door.
“His name,” she said, with a warm, faraway look in her eyes, “was Christian, Christian Monson, but that was a long time ago, nearly 50 years.”
Otto felt a burning, humbling excitement flood unexpectedly over his body at the sound of the name. Breathless, he asked what her name was. It couldn’t be, he thought, not after all these years!
“I am Mrs. Hotvedtvien,” she answered.
Otto felt an indescribable pleasure deep inside, and he felt warm tears on his cheeks.
“I am Otto Monson; Christian Monson is my father, and I know you well, Ann Hotvedtvien, very well.”
The street was quiet. It seemed to Otto that time stood still. Then, suddenly, he felt the boney arms of the old woman embrace him, heard her crying softly, and felt the terrible loneliness leave her.
Later Otto learned from her that not long after Christian left for America, the Hotvedtviens moved from Drammen to Oslo. The letters Christian sent from America never found them. Five years after the move, Moen Hotvedtvien became ill and died. Since then his wife had been alone, and for the last few years she had been sick and unable to earn a living. There was no one to help. She said she had been afraid she would die alone and had prayed for help.
Otto visited the old woman often, saw that she was cared for, arranged for her to have a good house to live in, good food, and medicine. Several months later she died, but she didn’t die alone or without love.

Ieuan Barry, born of wonderful parents, was diagnosed with autism as a young child. His parents were attentive to his needs and Ieuan has learned to stretch himself in life. When the opportunity to represent Wales at the Commonwealth Powerlifting Championships came about, he and his family engaged in the necessary fundraising to be able to attend and go and do. An inspiration to his peers and family, as he represented his country in Auckland, New Zealand in November 2022.
At first I had no idea where my journey in sport would end up, but, at the age of 16, I was taking my GCSE’s and I decided that I would like to get physically and mentally better – fitter in general – so I started doing a bit of everything; a bit of cardio, a bit of running, a bit of weights. Unstructured and unplanned. I started out by looking carefully at my diet, did some research into nutrition, and became more particular about what I ate.
By the time I was 17 I started to get more organised in my thinking about nutrition and exercise and gradually introduced changes that helped me do it properly – I got to know the things I needed to do.
I feel like it gives me something that I’m really good at. I can do what a lot of people struggle to do. It’s consistency and longevity. I think about this moment in time, so I appreciate what I had to go through, progressing step by step, little by little. A lot of people like to get success in the short term, but I’m thinking long term and I definitely hope to be competing in the sport for as long as I can. I have aspirations to go down the coaching route as well, coaching other people, having my own business.
It’s interesting to try and explain as sometimes it can be quite difficult to interact with other people because the way my mind processes social situations is a bit different to other people. For example, if some people are joking and messing around, sometimes I might not really take it as a joke. In other ways my autism helps me to work to a routine and stick to it regardless of how I am feeling on a day-to-day basis. It gives me a determination to achieve my goals no matter what.

Joe Lee sat quietly in conference listening to the people who spoke. He couldn’t understand all they said, but he loved singing the songs with them. He thought how wonderful it would be if he could go up on the stand and tell everyone how exciting it was to be a member of the Church.
Joe was an eight-year-old Korean-Hawaiian boy who had just been baptized. He lived on the island of Molokai in Hoolehua, Hawaii. Joe and his mother were members of the Church, but his father had no interest in it at all. Joe had such a good feeling that he wanted his father to become a member of the Church too.
That night after conference Joe told his mother the thoughts that had come to him during the meeting and later she told Brother Murphy, who was conducting the conference, what her young son had said.
During the next session of conference Joe suddenly heard his name called. Brother Murphy was inviting him to go up to the pulpit and speak!
Joe quickly stood up, and while he was walking up to the pulpit, someone on the stand hurried to get a little chair. Many in the meeting wondered what an eight-year-old boy who was called out of the audience might say.
Joe stood on the chair and spoke into the microphone. A breathless hush came over everyone as Joe began, “Aloha everybody!” He paused only a moment. Then in a clear calm voice he went on, “I know that Jesus is God’s own Son. I know that Joseph Smith is a prophet.”
Tears filled many eyes when Joe said, “My father is not a member of the Church. Please pray that he will become one so he can take Mother and our family to the temple. Then we will all be together in the next world.”
Joe’s prayer and the prayers of others were answered a short time later when Joe’s father was baptized. One of the happiest days of Joe’s life was about a year later when his father took his family to the temple at Laie, where they were sealed as a family.

When the stranger with bloody feet asked to come in, Father questioned the “new” religion the stranger talked about. But Father read Brother Reed’s Book of Mormon and was willing to hear Brigham Young preach. It was Mary Ann’s best friend, Betsy, who called Brother Reed and Brigham Young fakes!
Just as Mary Ann returned to sit with her family at the meeting, Brigham Young was getting up to speak again. He told of the need to have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. After testifying that the Savior lived and spoke to a prophet today, Brother Young told them to repent and to be baptized.
One old man from the back called, “I’ve been baptized. Why do I need to be baptized again?”
Brother Young told them about the authority brought to earth by John the Baptist to Joseph Smith. Joseph gave that authority to him and to Brother Reed. Brigham Young asked if any wanted to be baptized.
Mary Ann’s mother stood up. Then her father stood up, and Nathan and Mary Ann did too. No one else in the whole congregation did. Brother Reed beamed at them. They sat back down, and Brother Young closed the meeting. As Mary Ann walked by, Betsy turned her face away.
Mary Ann touched her arm. “I’m sorry I got mad at you. It’s just that I believe what these men are telling me. I know it’s true, and I want you to know it too.”

Are you in the right place, or have you pegged yourself? One young girl was getting into her mid-twenties and without opportunity. I urged her to move from the home that she shared with several older girls, leave the office as stenographer, and go to college where she would meet people of the right age. Sometime later I happened one day to be on that campus, and here she came to me, bubbling like a fresh new breeze, with a bright ribbon tying her hair and an optimistic and happy personality. A few months later I was invited to a temple marriage. It may not always work that well, but it did in this case.

Sig Verano had emigrated from his native Colombia, South America, to California, in 1963. Ana, the girl he was growing to love, was temporarily left behind while he began preparing to support himself, and possibly a family, in his new country.
He had received only three years of formal schooling in Colombia and spoke little English. In Los Angeles, California, his first job was making hats at the minimum legal wage, so he studied newspaper advertisements looking for something that would pay more. He spotted a training course for a “machinist.” The pay looked good, and in South America, a maquinista—train engineer—had regular employment, so he enrolled.
Sig did well in the course, but inquired after some time when they were going to get to the “big machines.” Be patient, he was told—that would come after the training. Toward the end of the training, he still had not seen a train engine. One day, he asked a co-worker how much they would travel in their future jobs. “What does travel have to do with this work?” the co-worker replied. After some confusing discussion, Sig finally asked, exasperated, “Will you please tell me exactly what we are learning?”
But Sig’s new job as a machinist was enough to provide the support he and Ana would need. They had continued their courtship by mail and were married by proxy in 1964. She emigrated to the United States in 1965. Edison, the first of their children, was born in 1966, followed by Julie in 1968 and Marbell in 1972.

One day my companion and I were teaching a couple, and we told them that the Father and the Son had appeared to Joseph Smith in answer to his prayer. The man said that no one could see God. Immediately the alarm on my watch went off, letting us know that we needed to head home. We left their home that day without answering that statement.
The next day I read a scripture in the Bible that says, “If there be a prophet among you, I the Lord will make myself known unto him in a vision” (Numbers 12:6). I knew this scripture would help this brother believe.
The time of the next visit arrived, and we spoke about prophets. I showed him this scripture, and his countenance changed. His eyes filled with tears, and he said, “This is true. There are people prepared to see God.” Later we taught him about Book of Mormon prophets who have seen God, and he knew it was true.
Elder Diaz, age 25, Mexico Mérida Mission

During the Great Depression, Harold B. Lee, serving then as a stake president, was asked by the Brethren to find an answer to the oppressive poverty, sorrow, and hunger that were so widespread across the world at that time. He struggled to find a solution and took the matter to the Lord and asked, “What kind of an organization will we have … to do this?”

And “it was as though the Lord had said [to him]: ‘Look, son. You don’t need any other organization. I have given you the greatest organization there is on the face of the earth. Nothing is greater than the priesthood organization. All in the world you need to do is to put the priesthood to work. That’s all.’”12

“My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment” (D&C 121:7).
This verse also helped me make a difficult decision. My friend and I had been inseparable for five years. We played sports together, went on trips together, and hung out every weekend. But she began hanging out with an older group of friends who I didn’t want to be around. In the end she made me choose between having her as a friend or sticking to my beliefs regarding the Word of Wisdom and the law of chastity. I was devastated. I never knew that standing up for what I believed could be so hard. But I chose to make new friends, always keeping in mind Heavenly Father’s promise to Joseph Smith that everything would work out all right.

As these young people are converted to the gospel, they help one another remain strong. Last summer, Klein Kinga, 19, and another young member of the Church found employment away from home. “There weren’t any other Church members around—just the two of us and the world,” she says. “We had a lot of adversity. When we came home in the evenings, we always prayed together, read together from the Book of Mormon, and waited for the letters we received from our Church friends here in Dunaújváros. These things helped us endure that difficult time.”

An interesting way to practice what is preached about etiquette was discovered by the youth of the Murray Third Ward in Utah. An evening’s lesson on social awareness was given to Laurels and Explorers. A week later a full-scale formal dinner was hosted by MIA leaders and the bishopric. In a lovely home a long table was covered with fine linen, and crystal, silverware, and complete china settings were laid. Guests came in their party best. Boys had called the girls on the telephone properly for the date. Boys attended to the girls’ needs and even gave their “orders” to the waiters (members of the bishopric!). At the end of the evening each was warmly appreciative, seeking the hosts out to express thanks. (An extra touch of niceness is a note of thanks the following day.)

It was such a successful event that now everyone is wondering what they can learn next that they can put into practice with as much fun.

Martin woke up slowly. His mom was shaking his shoulder.
“Martin,” she said, “it’s time to wake up.”
Martin rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The sky was still dark, but he knew what time it was. His family woke up at 5:30 every morning to read the Book of Mormon together. It wasn’t always easy to get up so early.
Martin rolled out of bed and walked slowly to join his family. He stretched and yawned really wide. His brothers and sisters looked sleepy too, but they were all there.
Each person read for five minutes. At first Martin wanted to go back to bed. But he kept listening. Each verse seemed to make him feel better and better. By the time they were done reading, Martin felt spiritually strong.
And spiritual strength was something Martin needed every day. In Kenya, there were only a few Church members Martin’s age, and they all lived far away.
After school Martin always went to a boys’ club run by a Catholic church. One week the club went on a camping trip together. Martin had a lot of fun. He sang camping songs. He chopped logs. He even helped build a campfire.
But on the second day, one of the leaders brought out a teapot. “We’re going to have tea now,” he said.
The other boys were excited. They drank tea at home for special occasions. They all grabbed their cups and waited for the leader to fill them.
Martin felt a little nervous. He knew that he shouldn’t drink tea. But he didn’t want to offend his friends.
Then he remembered how he felt when he kept the commandments. When his family followed the prophet and read the Book of Mormon together, he felt happy. When they didn’t, he didn’t feel as happy.
Martin knew what he had to do.
“No, thank you,” he told the leader when he came to fill Martin’s cup. “I don’t want to drink tea.”
The leader looked surprised, but he let Martin drink water while the rest of the boys drank tea. Some of the boys wanted to know why Martin didn’t drink tea, but none of them made fun of him. Martin felt happy. He knew the Word of Wisdom would make his body strong. And he was glad that he had been strong enough to do the right thing.

The Knaupps later lived in Oregon. Then last year, after we heard that Wendy had cancer, we were blessed to discover them visiting in Utah during general conference. Wendy’s husband, their returned missionary son, and I gave her a blessing. We shared our experiences from the past four decades. It was clear that the gospel meant absolutely everything to them. It was the center and purpose of their lives and their children’s lives. Paul and Wendy fervently wanted to be healthy so they could fulfill their dream of serving a mission together.
Not long before she died, Wendy wrote to me in a letter, “I really feel that I am in the arms of the Lord. He can do anything He wants, and I am in His care.” She expressed gratitude for the gospel and her family, then wrote, “Isn’t the Lord wonderful!”
Now Wendy is gone, and her family misses her terribly. When her son wrote us about her death, he said, “Thank you for bringing Mom into the light of the gospel. She has lived in obedience to the commandments.” He said his mother once wrote to him, “I love the Lord and am eternally grateful [to Him] for bringing the priceless gospel into my life. I want to prove faithful more than anything else and am really trying to do so.”

A young man who had been stationed in Leipzig with the military found the outreach center and became a regular at class and activities. The military life was so different from his home life that he longed to be around those with his same ideals. “One particular evening,” says Elder Griffiths, “he arrived just as the activity at the center was breaking up. We asked him why he had bothered to come when it was so late. He replied, ‘I had to come. I needed it.’”

“Last year my father was injured in an accident. With help from others, we have been able to overcome the financially difficult time that followed. At first I felt resentment toward God. But now I am thankful to him. I am not different from other youth, but I have something different from the others. I know God lives. I wish we experienced only happiness. But because of my testimony, I will accept either happiness or misfortune in life.”
—Kim, Hae-Young, Seoul, Korea