Gospel Story Finder

I share just one tender experience. While President Monson was serving as a bishop, he learned that a member of his ward, Mary Watson, was in the hospital. As he went to visit her, he learned that she was staying in a large room with several other patients. When he approached Sister Watson, he noticed that the patient in a neighboring bed quickly covered her head.
After President Monson had visited with Sister Watson and given her a priesthood blessing, he shook her hand, said good-bye, and prepared to leave. Then a simple but amazing thing happened. I quote now from President Monson’s own recollection of this experience:
“I could not leave her side. It was as though an unseen hand [was] resting on my shoulder, and I felt within my soul that I was hearing these words: ‘Go over to the next bed where the little lady covered her face when you came in.’ I did so. …
“I approached the bedside of the other patient, gently tapped her shoulder and carefully pulled back the sheet which had covered her face. Lo and behold! She, too, was a member of my ward. I had not known she was a patient in the hospital. Her name was Kathleen McKee. When her eyes met mine, she exclaimed through her tears, ‘Oh, Bishop, when you entered that door, I felt you had come to see me and bless me in response to my prayers. I was rejoicing inside to think that you would know I was here, but when you stopped at the other bed, my heart sank, and I knew that you had not come to see me.’
“I said to [Sister] McKee: ‘It does not matter that I didn’t know you were here. It is important, however, that our Heavenly Father knew and that you had prayed silently for a priesthood blessing. It was He who prompted me to intrude on your privacy.’”17

A few years ago when I was in Alaska, I met two elders. One had been converted about three years before in England and was now an excellent missionary.
The other elder was Jewish and had been converted only a year or two before. He said that one day, while he was at the beach in Santa Monica with some friends, he lay down to rest on a blanket. Another young fellow in the group—one whom he did not know well—came and sat by him. This stranger asked him if he would listen to an interesting story. The missionary then told me that for the first time in his life he heard about the Prophet Joseph Smith, the restoration of the gospel, and the Book of Mormon. He knew it was the truth and in a matter of three or four weeks he was ready to join the Church.
These two young missionaries in Alaska were heroes to me in a way. But the real hero was the boy on the beach in Santa Monica who had the courage to bear his testimony and tell that great story that changed the life of a fine young man.

Missionary service has ever called for courage. One who responded to this call was Randal Ellsworth. While serving in Guatemala as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Randal Ellsworth survived a devastating earthquake which struck Guatemala on February 4, 1976. A beam fell onto his back, paralyzing his legs and severely damaging his kidneys. He was the only American injured in the quake, which claimed the lives of some 30,000 persons.
After receiving emergency medical treatment, he was flown to a large hospital near his home in Rockville, Maryland. While Randal was confined there, a newscaster conducted with him an interview that I witnessed on television. The reporter asked, “Can you walk?”
The answer: “Not yet, but I will.”
“Do you think you will be able to complete your mission?”
Came the reply: “Others think not, but I will. With the president of my church praying for me, and through the prayers of my family, my friends, and my missionary companions, I will walk, and I will return again to Guatemala. The Lord wants me to preach the gospel there for two years, and that’s what I intend to do.”
There followed a lengthy period of therapy, punctuated by heroic yet silent courage. Little by little, feeling began to return to the almost lifeless limbs. More therapy, more courage, more prayer.
At last, Randal Ellsworth walked aboard the plane that carried him back to the mission to which he had been called—back to the people whom he loved. Behind he left a trail of skeptics and a host of doubters, but also hundreds amazed at the power of God, the miracle of faith, and the example of courage.
On his return to Guatemala, Randal Ellsworth supported himself with the help of two canes. His walk was slow and deliberate. Then one day, as he stood before his mission president, Elder Ellsworth heard these almost unbelievable words spoken to him. “You have been the recipient of a miracle,” said the mission president. “Your faith has been rewarded. If you have the necessary confidence, if you have abiding faith, if you have supreme courage, place those two canes on my desk and walk.”
After a long pause, first one cane and then the other was placed on the desk, and a missionary walked. It was halting, it was painful—but he walked, never again to need the canes.
In the spring of 1986 I thought once more of the courage demonstrated by Randal Ellsworth. Ten years had passed since his ordeal. He was now a husband and a father. An engraved announcement arrived at my office. It read: “The President and Directors of Georgetown University announce commencement exercises of Georgetown University School of Medicine.” Randal Ellsworth received his Doctor of Medicine degree. More effort, more study, more faith, more sacrifice, more courage had been required. The price was paid, the victory won.

If you think about it, it’s a bit strange for someone to put goodies in your old sock. But like many Christmas traditions, the tradition of Christmas stockings comes from an old legend. A long time ago (so the story goes), a poor man had three daughters and couldn’t afford to give them a dowry (money or goods given to the groom’s family by the bride’s family). In those days, it was very hard for a woman to get married without a dowry. A Christian bishop named Nicholas heard about the problem and wanted to help, but the man refused to accept money. One night, Nicholas threw three balls made of pure gold in through the open window of the man’s house. Each one landed in a stocking hung by the fire to dry. The next morning, each daughter found a gold ball in her stocking. With this bounty, they were all able to get married. Stockings can remind us of the importance of service. The greatest example of service is Jesus Christ. He always “went about doing good” (Acts 10:38). Take some time to think about the Savior’s selfless acts of service. How can you give Christlike service and show kindness to others?

Maria stirred her scrambled eggs around and around with her fork. “Mom,” she asked, “do we have to go to church next Sunday?”
Mother looked surprised. “Why, of course!” she declared. “We always go to church on Sunday.”
Maria continued to play with her food. Finally her mother asked, “Are you still worried about your talk?”
Maria nodded. She and two other children had been asked to give talks in Primary. Because it was the week of the Mormon Pioneer celebration, the topic of the talks was to be “pioneers in my family.” Maria and her mother had been members of the Church for only a few years.
Mother had told Maria that her Primary teacher probably didn’t realize this. She suggested that Maria talk about the early Mormon pioneers instead. Maria had followed her mother’s advice, but she felt uneasy about it because she wasn’t really following the assigned topic.
Maria finished her breakfast and hurried to school, but all day long she worried about her talk. It seemed forever until the three o’clock bell rang. When she came home, the apartment was empty. Mother wouldn’t be home from work until six o’clock, so Maria fixed herself a snack and thought about her talk. Finally she decided that since she couldn’t talk about pioneers in her family, she simply wouldn’t give a talk at all. Maria was sure Sister Robinson would understand. Besides, Jason and Nancy would still be speaking.
When her Primary teacher answered the phone, Maria explained why she couldn’t give the talk. Instead of agreeing with Maria, Sister Robinson said, “I gave the assignment to you, Maria, for a very special reason. Why don’t you ask your mother if you can come over to my house after dinner, and we’ll talk about it.”
Later that evening Maria went to Sister Robinson’s house. When she returned home, she had a talk all ready for Sunday.
After the opening exercises in Primary on Sunday, Jason stood up and told about his ancestors who had left Norway in 1860 and sailed to America. They had been persecuted in their homeland because they were Mormons.
Nancy read excerpts from her great-grandmother’s diary. It told how she had traveled west in a covered wagon and settled in the Salt Lake Valley.
When Maria walked up in front of the class, her knees were wobbly because she had never given a talk in church before. She was grateful for her notes, because suddenly she had forgotten everything she was supposed to say. Finally, after a quick look at her notebook, Maria began: “Five years ago my mother and I were living in Germany, where I was born. I was in kindergarten then, and my mother was in medical school, studying to become a doctor. My father had just died. The following year my mother graduated, and she had the opportunity to do her internship in Baltimore, Maryland. That’s how we came to the United States.
“On the plane coming over, we sat next to two young men who said they were Mormon missionaries. They had spent two years in Germany preaching the gospel. My mother and I had never met a Mormon before, and we thought they were very brave to leave their homes for such a long time.
“After we had been living in Baltimore for about six months, my mother found out that a doctor she was working with was a Latter-day Saint. She told him about the two missionaries she had met and how impressed she had been by them. The doctor invited us to his home later on, and we began to attend church with him and his family. After a few months my mother was baptized. When I turned eight, I was baptized too.”
Maria paused and looked out over the room. “When Sister Robinson asked me to talk about pioneers in my family, I told her we didn’t have any. I thought pioneers were only people who lived a long time ago, like Nancy’s great-grandmother. Then Sister Robinson asked me to look up the word pioneer in the dictionary. I did, and it said that a pioneer is a person who goes before others and prepares the way for them. So, because my mother and I are the first Latter-day Saints in our family, we are pioneers!
“It’s a great responsibility to be a pioneer, because it’s up to us to set the example for our descendants. But I know that if I stay faithful to the Church, maybe a hundred years from now another girl will stand up in Primary and tell about how her great-grandmother Maria came from Germany with her mother and joined the Church.”
When Primary was over, several people came over and told Maria how much they enjoyed her talk. One sister said that she, too, was a convert but that until Maria’s talk she had never thought of herself as being a pioneer.
When Maria left church, she knew that this was one Pioneer Day that she would always remember.

I don’t make much money at my job. Not when I have to support my driving habit and my taste in clothes and all my records and tapes and a minor addiction to buying four science fiction novels a week. I began to discover the joys of walking.
Do you have any idea how many barking, savage dogs there are on an average residential block in a California suburban community? (Seven—one with rabies.)
Do you know how many steps it takes to go a mile and a half to school on foot? (Exactly 3,168, unless you have a blister and take shorter steps.)
Do you know how hot it gets when you walk outside in the summer in California? And they don’t even air-condition the street.
I also discovered that rain is wet, wind is cold, passing cars like to go fast through puddles to splash you, and you meet the strangest people waiting for the WALK signal at a busy intersection.
And even with all that walking, my automobile leasing bill was still horrendous. I had given up on the LTD except for dates, but even with the Volkswagen I was paying $30 or $40 a month.
“I give up,” I said. “I won’t do any more business with this rip-off car leasing business.”
“Really?” asked Father, looking up from his copy of the San Jose Mercury.
“Really,” I said. “I will not pay your fees. I will not drive your cars.”
“Mother!” Father called. “Jerry has decided to become a pedestrian!”
“I have not,” I said. “I have decided to take my patronage elsewhere.”
“Where?” he asked.
“If Hertz is good enough for O. J. Simpson, it’s good enough for me.”
As I left the room Dad called after me, “But, Jerry! We try harder!”
I came back three hours later. Whipped. Beaten. Defeated.
“Do you know what they charge?” I asked.
“A lot?” Father guessed helpfully.
“I couldn’t rent a pair of roller skates from them for less than $50 a month.”
“Ah.”
“You and Mom may be a rip-off leasing company, but at least you’re competitive.”
“Oh, come off it,” Father said, laughing. “We have the best rates in town.”
“I want to buy a horse,” I said.
“I can get you a good price on hay,” Father answered. He laughed and laughed. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I managed to keep a smile off my face until my bedroom door was closed behind me. Then I laughed.

Bravery is a trait every young man can develop. It is based on love for others more than safety for self. One Venturer Scout who is blind signed up to go on a hike in southern California with his Scout troop. They hiked to Lord Baden Powell Peak over a steep trail. The young man held on to the shirt of a fellow Boy Scout every step of the way. It was a long hike and took two full days. This boy did not complain, did not seek pity, just kept grinding on and on until they came to the trail’s end. Equally as brave was the Scout who volunteered to lead his friend over a steep and challenging trail. He felt honored to help.

The other story I should like to tell is about another prodigal son in similar circumstances who also became involved with companions who persuaded him to leave home and family for the so-called freedom from the shackles of what they call “the establishment.” He too went the whole route—alcohol, tobacco, drugs, immorality.

The difference is between the endings of these stories. Something deep within kept the boy in touch with his family. Something stirred his memory of the teachings learned in his youth, and as his family strained to the breaking point to reach out and express their love on those occasions when he made contact with them, he eventually reluctantly consented to attend a family reunion, which was being held during one of his trips home. Unshaven, unkempt, long hair and all, he went.

Although disapproving, the family extended their welcome and their love. The boy felt their deep affection and knew that this was better than the superficial expressions of friendship from his other associates. He later accompanied his family to church and there met a sweet, young girl who showed an interest in him. Soon he was bathed, shaved, properly groomed, and living as he should.

It is honoring one’s parents and conforming to the standards of decency of a well-ordered and God-fearing society that will keep one from wandering into some of the forbidden paths. Generally speaking, we behave in accordance with the way we look and speak. If we want to be a part of a clean, refined group or organization, then we must accept their rules and standards.

Later in my life, my father saved me again. This time I was not facing physical danger, but my spiritual life faced a challenge.
In high school I played sports, mostly football and baseball. During my last year, I was selected to play in an all-star baseball game at the end of the season. After that game, when the school year was ending, I was invited to play on a local baseball team. It wasn’t a professional or even semiprofessional team, but I was flattered to be invited to play. The only problem was that most of the games were played on Sunday afternoons.
I did a pretty good job rationalizing. I thought I could play because my Church meetings were in the morning. I could attend my meetings and teach my Sunday School class before going to the games each Sunday afternoon.
With this in mind I spoke to my father. I told him about the baseball invitation and what I was thinking of doing. Although he was the stake president at the time, he wisely restrained himself and did not tell me to give up my baseball wishes, as he could have. Instead, he simply said, “Well, when you make the final decision, just remember the impact it will have on your Sunday School class.”
Nothing more needed to be said. At that point the answer was absolutely clear in my mind. I turned down the invitation to play on that team, and I have not played a game of baseball since. Instead, I enjoyed playing on Church softball teams for many years, never having to play on Sunday.
I appreciated the way my father helped me make that difficult decision. He did it in such a way that allowed me to see the importance of such a choice and understand that the decisions I make can have a great impact on people other than myself. This decision also set the stage for a choice I had to make later about serving a mission.

Not long after my baptism, I was assigned to record part of a Thai translation of a filmstrip called “The Restoration,” since there was no advanced technology in those days. A sentence that I had to read was “I am a sinner, I need the Lord.” I had pondered why I was selected to read that line. How did the Lord know what I needed? That sentence echoed in my ears silently. I knew the Lord had chosen me as one who really needed Him. He said, “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”1 The Lord “awakened them out of a deep sleep, and they awoke unto God.”2 I am one of those now awakened. As time goes by, I realize that repentance is a process of learning, growing and improving. Whenever I look back, I see myself as one who has been changed for the better. President Nelson taught repentance with hope, joy and love, saying, “The word for repentance in the Greek New Testament . . . means ‘change’ . . . ‘mind,’ ‘knowledge,’ ‘spirit’. . . . Thus, when Jesus asks you and me to ‘repent,’ He is inviting us to change our mind, our knowledge, our spirit . . . He is asking us to change the way we love, think, serve, spend our time, treat our wives, [and] teach our children.”3 I feel deep gratitude for Church activities that can be implemented in the home as home-centered and Church-supported gospel learning is emphasized. It helps me run to repentance and not away from it.

May I close with just one other experience. Let me tell you of one elderly brother who sat in a nursing home just looking at the floor day after day, week after week. Someone who loved him and knew about Deseret Industries arranged for him to come to work. He began by the supervisor placing a wide push broom in his hands, taking him to the end of a corridor, and having him push the broom down the hall to the other end; then turning him around and having him push it back again. This he did time after time.
In the process of doing, he started to get a small glimmer of interest in something—in anything—and his eyes raised from the floor. He saw the walls, and he saw the windows. As this process continued, the development of a feeling that everyone needs was nurtured. It wasn’t long until other assignments were given to him which he did very well. In time his faith in himself and his feeling of worth had been restored. He became a supervisor of others.

I learned a lot about my identity as a child of God while I was on my mission. But after I came home, I realized I still had a lot to learn about the importance of remembering that other people are also children of God.
Soon after I returned home, I was thrown into a difficult calling and put in charge of an important event. I was overwhelmed, and I couldn’t get ahold of the people who were supposed to be helping me. I sent an email that was, truthfully, pretty strongly worded.
I was right that the calling was important and that I needed more support, but I quickly realized that maybe this wasn’t the best way to motivate people. I needed humility; I needed to remember that other people probably had their own things they were stressed about.
As Elder Steven E. Snow taught when he was a member of the Seventy, “If we humble ourselves, our prayers are answered; we enjoy peace of mind; we serve more effectively in our callings; and, if we continue to be faithful, we will ultimately return to the presence of our Heavenly Father.”
Truly, I have felt more joy in my calling and in my life as I’ve learned to be more humble.

When you have talent, people sometimes tell you it will take you straight to the top. But in Joselén Cabrera’s case, her talent took her all the way to the bottom of the world—Antarctica. And along the way she learned that worthy dreams are worth pursuing, and with those dreams there will be people to help when they are needed.
When she was 14, Joselén won a drawing contest sponsored by the Asociación Civil Antarkos in her native country, Uruguay. The prize: a trip to Antarctica for her and her schoolteacher, with a group of other students and teachers. Her father and the woman who taught her art helped show Joselén how to finish the drawing she had envisioned.
Her trip was an exciting three-stage journey: first, a military transport flight from Montevideo, Uruguay, to Punta Arenas, Chile, then an overwater flight to the Chilean base in Antarctica, followed by an overland trip to the Uruguayan outpost, Artigas Antarctica Scientific Base, some 3,000 kilometers from Montevideo. Several nations have scientific bases clustered on King George Island off the coast of Antarctica.
Joselén’s drawing and her account of her trip were featured in a national magazine, Uruguay Natural.
Antarctica was not quite the way she had imagined it, Joselén says, smiling. Her drawing showed penguins and ice. It was summer when she visited—snow in patches on barren ground and few penguins. But that gave her the opportunity to see a few more of the sights. She enjoyed hiking along the coast, where she saw Collins Glacier, the Drake Passage, and Lake Uruguay, from which her country’s base draws fresh water. She was also able to visit other bases.
The trip was a dream come true for Joselén, who is now 19 and a member of the Colonia Suiza Branch, Colonia Uruguay District. Since the trip, she has made other dreams come true as well. One of those was to complete her Personal Progress experiences and receive her Young Womanhood Recognition. Joselén wears her medallion, she says, so that she will remember what she has achieved and what she can become as a daughter of God. Now that Joselén has finished her secondary schooling, she plans to study architecture at the university level.

When I was a teenager, my family moved to Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). My high school was an international school where people from many different cultures and religions attended. There were hardly any members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in our area, and I was the only member in my grade.
After a while, I started dating a classmate who was Christian but not a Latter-day Saint. As we got to know each other better, he became interested in my beliefs and started doing his own research on the Church.
Unfortunately, the sources he consulted were against The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and what began as curiosity for him soon grew into confusion and concern about my faith. I did my best to answer his questions, but I didn’t always know what to say. It was difficult and painful to have someone I cared deeply about challenge the things I held close to my heart. He was my boyfriend, and his opinions and perspectives were important to me.
As time went on, the questions and criticisms he had about the Church seemed reasonable, and I began to have doubts about my faith too.
The things I believed in seemed uncertain to me. I questioned whether Joseph Smith was really a prophet of God and if he’d really translated the gold plates. Had I been accepting made-up stories as truth? Being surrounded by so few Church members made me seriously question the legitimacy of my and my family’s faith. I felt lost and scared.
But I kept coming back to one thing—the examples I had in my life. My grandparents and my parents have always been faithful members of the Church. Every time I felt tempted to step away from the gospel, I remembered them and the goodness of their lives.
In Matthew we read:
“A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. …
“Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them” (Matthew 7:18, 20).
I knew that my parents and grandparents were good people and that the fruits of their lives were good too.
I reminded myself that there must be a reason why they raised me in the Church. So I decided to trust their judgment and faith when I was unsure whether I should trust my own.
I held on to the faith of my family members for a while. As time went on, my boyfriend lessened his scrutiny of the Church, but I continued studying the scriptures and praying to receive answers to the questions he had brought up.
And then one day, I had a big realization: I don’t need to answer every single question someone has for me about the gospel. I just need to tell them to follow the Spirit. I cannot give someone else my testimony.
I already knew this, but the reminder of these truths hit me with force. I couldn’t convince my boyfriend of the reality of the gospel if he wasn’t willing to listen to the Spirit, study, and pray. Elder Robert D. Hales (1932–2017) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “We do not have the authority to bestow a testimony upon someone else, because a personal testimony is granted by the Holy Ghost.”1
After some time, I worked up the courage to tell my boyfriend that I couldn’t answer all of his questions. But I invited him to pray and read the Book of Mormon if he wanted to know the truth. I explained that although my testimony wasn’t the strongest, I’d decided not to step away from my faith—it had helped mold me into who I was and had brought amazing people into my life who were good examples to me.
I would stand by my faith.
After talking with him, a huge weight came off my shoulders. I knew I had made the right choice in holding on to faith.
Having my beliefs challenged wasn’t fun, but I’m grateful for that experience because it helped me strengthen my own testimony. President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency, said: “Another way to seek a testimony seems astonishing when compared with the methods of obtaining other knowledge. We gain or strengthen a testimony by bearing it. Someone even suggested that some testimonies are better gained on the feet bearing them than on the knees praying for them.”2
In hindsight, I can see that standing up for my beliefs helped me strengthen my faith. Although my relationship with my boyfriend eventually ended, he and I have remained respectful friends, and I’m glad I learned how to protect my testimony while respecting his questions and beliefs.

Although he learned the gospel while young, Greg Larsen (name has been changed) of California, USA, later fell away. He became involved with drugs and crime and soon found himself in prison. He wanted to turn his life around but was not sure how.

“Men from the local ward taught Sunday School in the prison,” wrote Greg. “One of them told me my life would get better if I read the Book of Mormon. And that is what I did.

“When I got out of prison, I went back to church, but I still had the urge to revert back to my old habits. As I continued to read the Book of Mormon, I learned about the people of King Lamoni in Alma 19:33, whose ‘hearts had been changed; that they had no more desire to do evil.’ I began to pray for this change of heart.”

Greg found the answer to his prayer in Helaman 15:7, which teaches that “faith and repentance bringeth a change of heart.”

“As I read those words, tears streamed down my face. The Spirit testified that my Heavenly Father loved me and would help me. I felt that if I had enough faith to speak to my bishop, it would be enough. As I laid my sins at the Savior’s feet, I received a true change of heart.”

In his journal, President Woodruff wrote that he felt guided by the Lord to this spot. He traveled many miles by coach, then walked many more miles. He met John Benbow, a wealthy farmer, who with his wife, Jane, belonged to a large group that had broken away from the traditional denominations of that time. Wilford Woodruff records, “He sent word through the neighborhood that an American missionary would preach at his house that evening. As the time drew nigh, many of the neighbors came in, and I preached my first gospel sermon in the house. I also preached at the same place on the following evening, and baptized six persons, including Mr. John Benbow, his wife, and four preachers of the United Brethren. …
“The parish church that stood in the neighborhood of Brother Benbow’s, presided over by the rector of the parish, was attended during the day by only fifteen persons, while I had a large congregation, estimated to number a thousand, attend my meetings through the day and evening” (Matthias F. Cowley, Wilford Woodruff—His Life and Labors, 117–18).
And many of those thousand listeners were baptized, forming some of the earliest branches of the Church in England. John and Jane Benbow and Thomas Kington also financed the first British edition of the Book of Mormon and the printing of the LDS hymnbook.
During those few months in 1840, Wilford Woodruff preached to and baptized all the members of that breakaway group except for one man—about 600 people. And he baptized more than 1,200 of other denominations. Many of those baptized sold their land and possessions and left England to gather in Nauvoo, where they became the stalwarts of the Church. These same immigrants became pioneers when the Saints were driven out of Nauvoo and established a new community in Utah. Today their seed is literally scattered to the four corners of the earth, and their descendants continue doing the Lord’s work.
This small pool of water on the John Benbow farm was the scene of hundreds of baptisms in 1840. On March 5th, Wilford Woodruff baptized John and Jane Benbow and four other preachers from the local congregations of a group called the United Brethren. He spent most of the following day, as he wrote, “clearing out a pool of water and preparing it for baptizing, as I saw that many would receive that ordinance. I afterwards baptized six hundred persons in that pool of water” (Cowley, 117).

In many ways Vani’s day is just beginning when school ends. She gets off the bus at 3:30 P.M. and walks a few blocks to her home. There is little time to relax. There’s homework to do, and there’s also cooking, cleaning, laundry, and dishes. Grandpa died two years ago, and Grandma can’t do the things she used to.
“I have to look after my grandma. I have to help her. I know it’s been pretty hard for her because she raised her own kids and then raised me,” Vani says.
“It’s been a challenge for me not to have parents,” she adds. “But being involved in the Church is a great help because it has provided me with so much. Right now I’m the secretary in the Primary, and I teach the CTR class.”
When Vani entered the Young Women program, she served as Beehive class president and then was first counselor in the Mia Maid class presidency. Later she served as Laurel class president. It’s obvious the gospel is a priority.
“Because I’ve been a leader, I feel a responsibility for the girls who have fallen from the Church,” she adds. She is thoughtful for a moment. She feels bad about once-active girls who no longer come out.
When Suluya is asked about her conversion, she gladly shares the details of her Christmas Eve baptism. She beams as she remembers that day. Suluya then mentions the death of her father a few years ago. He was 47.
“Although I’ve always wanted my family to join the Church, his death has encouraged me even more to help my mom and my sister get baptized. I’m trying so hard to get them to come to church with me,” she says.
When Suluya was baptized, her family didn’t attend the service. “But they understand now that I hold sacred the covenant I made with the Lord, and they respect my decision and support me me. Still, it’s hard to see families sitting together at church, and my family isn’t there. When you have something this good, you want to share it with your family.”
Suluya admits she was closer to her father than to her mother, but she says one good thing has come of his death. “It’s brought my sister and me closer to our mom. We’ve really gotten to know our mom better,” she explains.
Vani and Suluya are not far from leaving their teenage years behind. Life ahead will be full of changes. As they look back, they can’t help but wonder how things might have been different.
What if Vani had grown up in a two-parent home? What if Suluya’s entire family had joined the Church with her? What if life had been a little easier?
Neither thinks too much about these questions. They both look ahead, happy for what they have. Their life experiences have shaped them into who they are, and fortunately the gospel gives them an advantage. They know they are daughters of God. And they are happy.
Truly.

Just before my eleventh birthday, British and Australian troops and American paratroopers liberated us. Our property had been confiscated in the civil war between the Dutch and the Indonesians, so we had no home to return to. We stayed in a refugee camp, waiting for my older brother to recover from cholera. My father had needed immediate medical aid and had been shipped to Holland with the wounded Dutch soldiers. He lived only a short time after the rest of us reached Amsterdam.
My mother was left to find what work she could to sustain herself and her six living children. Penniless, we lived in a tiny apartment furnished with old wooden boxes. Life was not easy, and although my mother longed to make our existence more comfortable, she did not have the means to do so.
On my sixteenth birthday, as I was cleaning out a closet, I came across Pop Mientje, safely tucked away on the shelf. She was dirty; she had been a victim of my airsickness in a cargo airplane, and she had been in the mud under me as we sought cover when our truck was shot at by the Indonesians.
I decided to clean her up. As I scrubbed her with a brush, her clothes, which were sewn to her body, disintegrated. Unwilling to abandon her, I began the job of reconstruction. But as I reached into the stuffing, it yielded more than soft cotton. Pop Mientje spilled forth the treasure she had carried all these years: diamonds, rubies, pearls, jade, and various rings. How had my old rag doll been made the guardian of such precious goods?
The discovery of the jewels changed our lives. The proceeds from their sale first brought us warm clothing and furniture to make our lives more comfortable. Eventually they enabled us to obtain higher education. The training I received because of Pop Mientje’s treasures meant better employment and higher wages, both in Amsterdam and later in America.

In Holland during World War II, the Casper ten Boom family used their home as a hiding place for those hunted by the Nazis. This was their way of living out their Christian faith. Four members of the family lost their lives for providing this refuge. Corrie ten Boom and her sister Betsie spent horrific months in the infamous Ravensbrück concentration camp. Betsie died there—Corrie survived.
In Ravensbrück, Corrie and Betsie learned that God helps us to forgive. Following the war, Corrie was determined to share this message. On one occasion, she had just spoken to a group of people in Germany suffering from the ravages of war. Her message was “God forgives.” It was then that Corrie ten Boom’s faithfulness brought forth its blessing.
A man approached her. She recognized him as one of the cruelest guards in the camp. “You mentioned Ravensbrück in your talk,” he said. “I was a guard there. … But since that time, … I have become a Christian.” He explained that he had sought God’s forgiveness for the cruel things he had done. He extended his hand and asked, “Will you forgive me?”
Corrie ten Boom then said:
“It could not have been many seconds that he stood there—hand held out—but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.
“… The message that God forgives has a … condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. …
“… ‘Help me!’ I prayed silently. ‘I can lift my hand. I can do that much. You supply the feeling.’
“… Woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. As I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.
“‘I forgive you, brother!’ I cried. ‘With all my heart.’
“For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely, as I did then.”6

Port Erin, Isle of Man—
I work out a little bit, but I don’t believe the strength I had that night on the cliff was my own. I feel the promise that has been made to everyone who keeps the Word of Wisdom was kept to me.
I was coming aback from a local disco (club) in Bradda Glen, where they play oldies like ’60s and ’70s music, when I saw some friends. Some of them had been drinking, and they weren’t their normal selves. Two of them decided to take a different way home.
There are two ways back. You can go the normal way, by road, which is much safer. Or you can go along the coast path, which is windy but has a good view. That’s the one my friends decided on. Normally, I would have just walked along the road, but I decided my friends weren’t in a fit state to look after themselves, so I walked along with them.
One of them started staggering and suddenly plopped down, off the side of the cliff. The other guy went to try to help him, but he went over too. It wasn’t completely sheer, but it was very steep, and they were hanging on with one arm. They could have easily slid right down, and I don’t know if they would have made it back up.
I remember clearly actually grabbing hold of their arms, one at a time, and hoisting them. I not only pulled them up; I actually pulled them off the ground, over the top, and back onto the path. The words from the promise of the Word of Wisdom, in section 89 of the Doctrine and Covenants, came to me, “And shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint” (D&C 89:20).
They were amazed. I was amazed. They said, “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t drink tonight.” And I said, “Well that’s really my religion for you.”
For my entire life I’ve strived to keep the Word of Wisdom. I find it easy to keep, even though smoking, drinking, and drugs seem to be an increasing problem here on the Isle. But when I was young, I heard President Spencer W. Kimball say that if I decided to keep standards then, when I was young, it would be much easier for me when the temptation came up, because I would have already made the decision to abstain.
I’ve really tried to apply that in my life, and that night on the coast path, I was glad I did. By following the Word of Wisdom, I believe I was given extra strength for that moment in time.