Gospel Story Finder

Today, probably more than in any other period of history, we find more profanity and vulgarity being used. I had a particular experience in my life that showed me how using the wrong word can shock those who do not expect such an utterance to come from you. I was in boot camp in the U.S. Marine Corps during World War II. Of course, the language among my fellow Marines was not of the caliber that you would want to repeat. Being a recently returned missionary, I determined I should keep my language above the level they were using. I tried consistently to keep from saying even the simplest and most common of swear words.

One day we were on the rifle range firing for our final qualification scores. I had done well in the 100-, 200-, and 300-yard positions. Now we were back at the 500-yard position. All I needed was a reasonable score—just hitting the target without even having to hit the bull’s-eye—and I would make Expert Rifleman. We had been charged up with the desire to excel and be the top platoon in firing for qualifications. I tensed up at the 500-yard standing position and on my first shot threw my shoulder into the rifle. Of course, the flag waved—I had missed the target. And likewise I missed the opportunity of being named Expert Rifleman.

Out of my mouth came a little four-letter word that I had determined never to use. Much to my shock and chagrin, suddenly the whole range stopped firing and everyone turned and looked at me with their mouths open. Any other Marine firing from that position that day could have used the word I used without anyone paying attention. But because I had determined that I would carry the standards of the mission field into the Marine Corps, everyone was shocked when I forgot myself.

Although the grand Tabernacle Organ was not completed for the October conference in 1867, it could be played. Sixteen-year-old Joseph was small for his age, and he found he could not reach the foot pedals of the new organ. An accomplished musician, he had been appointed as Tabernacle organist, and he worried about not being able to play the notes with his feet. It took some thinking, but he came up with the idea of attaching cork to the soles of his shoes—and it worked!
Born in Norwich, England, April 2, 1851, Joseph J. Daynes displayed a rare musical talent when only four. When he was eleven his family immigrated to the Salt Lake Valley. With a little harmonium (small organ) strapped across his shoulders, Joseph walked most of the way.
During the time he was organist of the Tabernacle, Joseph Daynes wrote music for hymns and composed the marches that were played for the funerals of Brigham Young and Wilford Woodruff.

As a young man, I served a 30-month mission in France, from 1955 to 1958. During the last eight months of my mission, I was called to serve as branch president in Cannes. The Cannes Branch was small, with fewer than 10 active members.
Our mission president informed us that he planned to close the branch shortly if we had no baptisms. Miraculously, three elderly ladies soon requested baptism. After their baptism, one of them moved to Dijon, where there was no branch of the Church, and the other two struggled to remain active in the Church. Nevertheless, these new Church members helped us keep the branch open.

She studied elementary education at Brigham Young University and minored in Spanish. During a class trip to Mexico, she met Jorge Dennis, and the two began corresponding.
When he moved to Salt Lake City a year later to study English, they began dating. Within a few months, they were engaged. They married in the Salt Lake Temple on September 4, 1980. They have four children and nine grandchildren. They live in Bountiful, Utah.

“Before this, I often felt like it was hard to have trust and confidence in Heavenly Father and the Savior. I wanted to learn how to do that because I was supposed to go to university this year and was looking forward to it. But then COVID-19 hit and delayed that plan. I murmured against God a lot. But when I started studying the Savior’s life, His atoning sacrifice, His grace, and my patriarchal blessing and recognizing Their guidance and blessings in my life, I gained so much more confidence and faith in Them. I now feel so much power to keep pressing forward with hope and trust.”—Claudio Acuña, Antofagasta, Chile

Karina’s smile faded. She began to sweat—and not because it was unusually hot that week. She looked around for help. But in spite of the crowd at the open house, no one seemed to notice her alone with the reporter and all her questions.
Until that moment, 17-year-old Karina had enjoyed volunteering at the Kyiv Ukraine Temple open house. Now, with the newspaper reporter waiting expectantly, her tongue seemed stuck.
Karina was afraid that because of past mistakes she was trying to overcome, God wouldn’t help her.
Growing up in the Church, Karina had dreamed of a temple marriage. But like many teens, she craved acceptance.
She wanted to be beautiful and popular like her older sister. She dreamed of standing out and being admired, but she was afraid of sticking out and being ridiculed. Wanting to follow in her father’s footsteps at the police academy only increased the pressure. Out of 2,000 students, there were only 70 women. She both enjoyed the attention and dreaded it.
In her desire to fit in, she made some poor choices. “The pull of the world was strong,” Karina says. “People around me drank and smoked. They pushed and I gave in. I enjoyed being part of a group that felt so carefree.”
She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she wasn’t thinking about where her choices would lead as she followed the crowd away from God (see Matthew 7:13–14).
One day a young man she liked said he respected her church’s beliefs.
Ashamed that she wasn’t living those beliefs better, Karina finally stopped to consider the path she was on (see Haggai 1:5–7). She realized that her decisions were leading her away from God, the companionship of the Holy Ghost, and her dream of an eternal family.
The only way to change her direction was to change the decisions she was making each day.1 But she wondered if she was already too far down the wrong path. Was it too late to change?
Karina decided to begin changing by praying and reading the scriptures daily. She started writing in her journal, which helped her recognize Heavenly Father’s help each day. She changed the topic if conversations turned bad.
Her most difficult decision was to choose no friends for a time rather than choosing friends with a negative influence. She began looking for friends with higher standards.
Over the months that followed, the adversary threw doubt and fear in her face at every decision. Sometimes she wondered if the effort to follow the Savior was worth it. Who she wanted to be seemed out of reach.
But as she watched how her parents and others with strong testimonies lived, she learned that there is something more powerful than doubt and fear—she learned that because of repentance, there is hope.
“I saw it was possible to live the right way,” she says. “We aren’t condemned by our mistakes. Heavenly Father has given us the chance to repent and change direction.”
Turning away from her old choices and trying to follow the Savior each day have taught her that Heavenly Father is patient. “He has given me one chance after another to change and become a better person,” she says. “He has helped me through difficult times.”
Karina squared her shoulders and turned back to the reporter. Her smile brightened. Heavenly Father had done so much for her already that she knew He would help her now.
After the reporter finished asking questions, Karina smiled and waved. The reporter smiled back and walked away. Karina couldn’t remember much of what she said, but she would remember for a long time how she felt, knowing Heavenly Father is always within reach of those who choose to follow Him.

From the outside looking in, people saw a girl who was successful and accomplished. I started on a competitive basketball team, played the violin in the state championship orchestra, graduated as the salutatorian of my class, was involved in student government, and participated in numerous other extracurricular activities. I strove to excel, to be perfect.
On the inside, however, I was a completely different person. Like many teenage girls, I unsuccessfully fought to win the battle of insecurity. I struggled with my self-image. I felt alone, as it was hard for me to develop close friendships when so few people maintained similar beliefs and morals. I was simply unhappy.
Without my even being aware of what I was doing, I tried to find not just solace, but also happiness, in being the best in anything and everything. My motto in life became “Mediocrity is not an option!”
Through my efforts, the awards began to pile up. However, I became more discouraged because I was not finding happiness. Sure I found a sense of pleasure in receiving such recognition, but it was not true happiness. I continually felt that I needed just one more award and then I would feel happy, only to be disappointed when that feeling did not come. Without my realizing it, this drive for perfection had taken over and had become the center of my life.
I decided that I wanted to become a different person when I entered college. Again, without being fully conscious of what I was doing, I developed a new center in my life, returning to basics I had learned at home, church, and seminary. I began having meaningful scripture study and started pouring my soul out to my Father in Heaven. I became a spiritual sponge. I never would have thought such simple adjustments could make such a huge impact on my life. I truly have never been happier.
Sure, there have been times when I have felt sad and low. The difference is that I now know whole-heartedly that God loves me and hears and answers my prayers. I also know that my Savior understands and has felt all my pains. He not only suffered for mankind’s sins, but also for our sorrows and burdens (see Alma 7:11–13).

In 1876, a renowned educator named Dr. William Clark was invited to come to Hokkaido to teach. He lived in Japan for just eight months, but his Christian spirit left a lasting impression on his young non-Christian students.

Before leaving, he gave his students a parting message that has become immortalized in this bronze statue. He said, “Boys, be ambitious!”—“Be ambitious for Christ.” His injunction to “be ambitious for Christ” can help direct daily decisions for today’s Latter-day Saints.

When I was 15, I wasn’t making the best decisions. I was mingling with the wrong crowd, and I was often surrounded by many temptations—some of which I indulged in. At first my decisions were inconsequential, but eventually I found myself in a very dark place. I hid a lot of what I was doing from my family, and I felt so alone. I wasn’t sure where to turn. I truly believed that God didn’t love me.
On one particularly difficult day, I suddenly had the thought that I should start reading the Book of Mormon. I had read it before, but not with a true desire to learn from its messages. On every page I felt warmth in my heart as I found truths from the Savior telling me that I could change with His help. I felt like I wanted to “sing the song of redeeming love” (Alma 5:26).
After studying the Book of Mormon and its Christ-centered messages, I was able to gain the courage I needed to open up about my choices to my mother. As we were returning home from the bus station one day, I talked to her and told her about some of the poor decisions I had been making. I expected her to be angry, but she wasn’t. She didn’t even judge me. Instead, she expressed how much she loved me, and through her love, I felt God’s love for the first time in my life as well.
As I continued praying and reading the scriptures, I mustered up courage once again to speak with my bishop and begin the repentance process. As I asked him if I could meet with him, he invited me into his office, and we began with a prayer. After we spoke, I began to cry in a way I hadn’t ever cried before. I shared all my mistakes with him, and I could literally feel the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ lifting the shame and heavy load I had been carrying off my shoulders.
My bishop was nothing but compassionate, causing me to feel the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ again. He taught me that the process of repentance was the way to be sanctified and, along with it, forgiven of our mistakes. In that moment, I realized how repentance is truly a gift of love from our Heavenly Father and Savior. I always think of just how much They love me because of the scripture in Doctrine and Covenants 19 where the Savior says, “For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent” (verse 16).
I appreciate that because of Jesus Christ and His Atonement, we have the chance to improve and become better. I have experienced the truth that our hearts can be changed when we have sincere intentions and realize Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us.
Repentance is truly a gift of love from our Heavenly Father and Savior. The blessings I have gained from this experience and many others are greater than I imagined, and “my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!” (Alma 36:20). Experiencing the Savior’s healing power in my life has reminded me of how deeply loved we are and always have been.

One of my earliest memories is of waking up one morning when I was about four years old and seeing my mother lying on her bed in terrible pain. She couldn’t get up. She told me to get my Uncle Mike, who lived about three hundred yards (270 m) down our country lane.
I climbed up on a stool and cranked the telephone, trying to call my uncle. When that didn’t work, I hurried outside, calling his name.
Somehow Uncle Mike heard and came. As soon as he saw Mother, he knew something was wrong. He bundled her up, carried her out to his car, and drove her to Salt Lake City.
The doctors never did know exactly what was wrong with Mother, but she was very ill. While she spent months in Salt Lake City being treated, I lived with relatives. We were happy when she came home, even for brief periods, and my older brother and sister and I did what we could to help her until she left for another long period of treatment.
Our family prayed to Heavenly Father often. We always asked Him to help my mother feel better and be strong. Mother also received priesthood blessings. I saw Heavenly Father strengthen my mother and bring her peace. I know that He hears and answers our prayers.

Claudia also explains another time when it’s impossible not to feel the spirit of Huntsville.
“Once a year, all the girls in the city dress up like Southern belles, in fancy dresses with hoop skirts. The boys dress up like Rebel soldiers or Southern gentlemen. They light candles all around town as a reminder of all the cities that were burned during the Civil War, as the Northerners marched to the sea.”
Huntsville, though, was spared.
“The general who was supposed to burn the city fell in love with a young woman who lived here, so he spared the town. After the war, he came back and married her, and they lived in Huntsville.”
Their former home is still a landmark.

In late summer of 1968 my missionary companion, Elder Ken Heaton, and I visited a part-member family in Kuopio, Finland. The mother and daughter were members of the Church, but the father was not.
At the wife’s request, we taught her and her daughter the discussions—loudly enough for the husband to hear from where he was in an adjacent room. When we tried to get him to join us, he said he didn’t have time. On one occasion his excuse was that he had a pile of lumber in the backyard that needed to be cut and stacked for winter.
“If the lumber were all cut and stacked, would you let us teach you?” we asked.
“Yes,” he replied. But there was so much wood, he added, that it would take him a long time before he could complete the job.
Several days later, after waiting for the father to leave for work, my companion and I returned to the home. With the wife’s permission, we spent the entire day cutting and stacking wood. We finished at 5:00 p.m., just before he returned home. We couldn’t wait to see his face, but we scurried away before he caught us. After riding our bicycles home and cleaning up, we pedaled back to the home at about 7:00 p.m.
“OK, the wood is cut!” we proclaimed. “Now will you let us teach you?”
He could only smile, nod his head, and join us in the front room. Several weeks later, after hearing the missionary discussions, this good brother was baptized and confirmed.

I also have been greatly influenced in my study and use of the scriptures by President Harold B. Lee (1899–1973). During my initial missionary training in Salt Lake City in 1971, approximately 300 elders and sisters were blessed to receive instruction from President Lee in the assembly room of the Salt Lake Temple. To be taught by one of the Lord’s special witnesses and a member of the First Presidency in such a sacred setting was a most memorable experience for me.
The format for the instruction was quite simple: President Lee invited us to ask questions about any and all gospel topics. I will never forget what I felt as I watched President Lee answer every single question from the scriptures! I knew I would never have the command of the scriptures that he did, but then and there in the Salt Lake Temple I resolved to study and use the scriptures in my teaching and follow the example of President Lee. And that commitment as a new and inexperienced 19-year-old missionary has blessed my life in ways that cannot be counted or adequately described.

Life isn’t always ideal. Some of you might have had painful experiences similar to someone I’ll call Amber, a client I worked with in my position as a counselor with Family Services. Amber has given permission for this part of her story to be shared in this article.
Shortly after Amber was born, her mom decided to leave Amber’s father. Once Amber was old enough to care for herself, her mom left her home alone all day to work two or three jobs.
Amber saw happy families around her with both a mother and a father and wished her family could be together too. She took care of herself most days, and when her mom was home, she enforced strict rules and expectations to protect Amber from getting into trouble.
Amber’s difficult childhood left her with a lot of negative feelings toward her parents.

I will never forget my first temple recommend interview with my bishop as I was preparing to go to the temple for my own endowments. The bishop was my father. Every day we spent a lot of time together, and he could have interviewed me in our home, in the barn, in the field, in our car, or in any convenient place. But Dad wanted to make this a special occasion, one that I would remember.
One day I received a telephone call from the bishop’s office. Dad wanted to set up an appointment with me for a temple recommend interview. I thought this strange, as he had never called before to set up an interview or an appointment with me. We arranged a time for a meeting in the bishop’s office. The appointed time came. When I arrived in his office, his desk was completely cleared, which was unusual, because normally it would have been almost covered by papers and books. Only the scriptures lay on top of the desk. In addition to giving me the formal interview, Dad wanted to make it a learning experience for me.
He passed the scriptures over to my side of the desk and asked me to read: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Thou shalt not steal; neither commit adultery, nor kill, nor do anything like unto it” (D&C 59:6). The last sentence stuck in my mind.
Illustration by Mike Malm
We then discussed what it meant to be morally clean. The discussion focused on cleanliness of thought. Our thoughts, he said, usually develop into actions. If our thoughts remain clean and pure, we will never commit acts that would prevent us from holding a temple recommend.
Next, he picked up the scriptures and read the promise of the Lord related to the Word of Wisdom (see D&C 89:18–21). We discussed the value of keeping our physical bodies as healthy, wholesome homes for our eternal spirits. The spirit of man should be housed in the cleanest tabernacle we can build while we are here on earth.
Then my father handed the scriptures back to me to read: “Behold, there shall be a record kept among you; and in it thou shalt be called a seer, a translator, a prophet, an apostle of Jesus Christ, an elder of the church through the will of God the Father, and the grace of your Lord Jesus Christ,
“Being inspired of the Holy Ghost to lay the foundation thereof, and to build it up unto the most holy faith. …
“Wherefore, meaning the church, thou shalt give heed unto all his words and commandments which he shall give unto you as he receiveth them, walking in all holiness before me” (D&C 21:1–2, 4).
We discussed the necessity of honoring and sustaining the prophet. We have been promised that the Lord will never let His prophet lead us astray. Here is a sure foundation on which we can build our lives.
Next my dad read: “There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—
“And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated” (D&C 130:20–21).
We talked about the importance of being obedient to the law of the Lord and the payment of tithes and offerings to Him as a test of our faith.
Finally, we turned to the scriptures and read: “The veil was taken from our minds, and the eyes of our understanding were opened.
“We saw the Lord standing upon the breastwork of the pulpit, before us; and under his feet was a paved work of pure gold, in color like amber.
“His eyes were as a flame of fire; the hair of his head was white like the pure snow; his countenance shone above the brightness of the sun; and his voice was as the sound of the rushing of great waters, even the voice of Jehovah, saying:
“I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father” (D&C 110:1–4).
We talked about the eternal hope we have in the Atonement of our Lord and Savior, and how necessary it is that we partake of these sacred ordinances so we can receive the greatest gift He has given us, the gift of eternal life, life with Him.
Dad filled out the temple recommend form and had me sign it, gave me a warm handshake, and congratulated me for being worthy to hold a current temple recommend. I left the office feeling exhilarated because I had passed one of the most important tests of my life. I had been deemed worthy to hold a temple recommend. I made a commitment to myself that I would always live worthy of holding a current temple recommend.

Arthur Parker walked and walked and walked. Even though he was only six years old, he sometimes helped his mother and father pull their loaded handcart. When everybody stopped to rest, he liked to explore. He wandered around to see other people, the prairie grass, a stream, or a grove of trees.
Arthur had one brother and two sisters: Max, 12; Martha Ann, 10; and Ada, 1. The Parkers had sailed from England to America that spring. Now they were traveling west with the McArthur Handcart Company. As Max helped his parents pull the handcart, Martha Ann walked behind, taking care of Arthur and Ada.
But one day Arthur’s father became ill. Martha Ann took his place helping to pull the handcart and sent Arthur to walk with a group of other children in the company. When Arthur sat down to rest beside the trail and fell asleep, the other children didn’t notice. The company moved on without him.
By the time Arthur’s family discovered that he was missing, it was too late and too dark to go looking for him. That night, the cloudy sky burst open. Thunder and lightning raged, and many tents blew over. Water ran across the ground in streams as people huddled in wet clothes. All night long, the Parkers worried about Arthur, lost out in the stormy darkness. They hoped somebody would bring him to their tent, but no one did.
The next morning, search parties went back along the trail to look for Arthur. The handcarts stayed camped all day so the searchers could continue looking. Where was the little boy? Was he hurt in the thunderstorm?
After searching for two days, the company could not wait any longer. They had more than a thousand miles left to go.
Arthur’s parents didn’t give up hope. They decided that Brother Parker would go farther back along the trail to look for Arthur, while Sister Parker and the other children would stay with the company and pull the handcart.
Before Brother Parker left, his wife pinned a bright red shawl around his shoulders. If he found Arthur dead, he would wrap him in the shawl. But if he found Arthur alive, he would wear the shawl on his shoulders or hold it in his hand to signal that Arthur was all right.
The worried father retraced the trail—calling Arthur’s name, searching everywhere he could, and praying. He walked and searched for 10 miles, determined not to leave without finding his son.
Meanwhile, the handcart company moved ahead. Two days went by. Sister Parker kept looking back anxiously, hoping to see her husband and son catching up with them.
At last, Brother Parker came to a mail-and-trading station. He asked if anyone had seen a lost six-year-old boy. Someone said that a boy had been found! He was being cared for by a farmer and his wife. Arthur’s father went to the farmhouse and found his son. How glad they were to see each other!
Arthur told his father that he had spent the first night under some trees, which protected him from the rainstorm. Then he had wandered until he came to the farmhouse. Brother Parker figured out that Arthur had walked about nine miles!
The handcart company was now 60 miles past where Arthur had disappeared. Arthur had been missing for four days, and his mother had hardly slept at all since then. She kept watching the trail behind her, looking for her husband, hoping he would be waving the red shawl.
A few days later, as the sun was setting, she suddenly spotted the red shawl waving in the distance. Arthur was alive! Captain McArthur sent a wagon back to meet the father and son. Everyone in the company rejoiced to see Arthur, but no one felt as happy as his mother. Completely exhausted, she slept soundly for the first time in days.
The Parkers continued on their journey. Arthur kept walking, singing, and exploring—but he stayed a little closer to his parents. Each night, they hugged him a little tighter.

Several years ago, while I was serving as executive director of the Missionary Department, two of our fine missionaries were assassinated in a senseless terrorist attack in Bolivia. Of course, their parents and families were saddened by the tragedy. The bodies of the two young men, Elder Todd R. Wilson and Elder Jeffrey B. Ball, were shipped to the United States for burial. Following the funeral service of Elder Ball, an article appeared in the Church News. The account read in part:
“Elder Ball commented before leaving for the mission field, his mother recalled, that he felt the worst possible feeling would be to return home knowing you had not tried as hard as you could. Both parents feel their son did give his full effort, although neither could have known that he would lose his life in the Lord’s service.
“Even so, his father said he is convinced that Elder Ball would have answered the mission call had he known what the eventual outcome would be. ‘And the thing that’s incredible to me is I honestly feel I would let him go again!’” (R. Scott Lloyd, “Elder Ball Touched Lives for Good,” Church News, 3 June 1989, 14).

Doodles covered every scrap of paper in the Sorbonne home from the time Ellesse, now 20, could hold a crayon. Recognizing her talent, Ellesse’s parents enrolled her in art lessons at age five, and she began to develop her skills in drawing and painting. During junior high, Ellesse began her first apprenticeship as a painter, and that’s where her real education began.

“I remember the first time I went to my teacher’s studio,” she recalls. “He told me I needed to start to relearn how to draw, and I was a little offended because I felt like I had been studying art forever. But actually, I could never be more grateful for that. Having to go back to the basics was very humbling. The experience was so good for me.”

Eventually, Ellesse left that studio and went on to apprentice with another painter. Her experience there proved equally valuable. She came to appreciate the value of watching a master at work. Her new teacher, who is also a member of the Church, helped her to recognize the source of true beauty. “Everything he taught me was an acknowledgement of truth and beauty and how that’s not just within us. It’s from a greater source—from the Greatest Master.”

In addition to her painting, Ellesse is now pursuing an interest in photography through an internship with a portrait studio in her hometown. As evidenced by Ellesse’s experience, apprenticeships and internships are available in a very broad range of fields. Apprenticeships and internships are often part of a school program to enhance in-class learning. They can take place in your hometown or halfway around the world, and you can gain experience in teaching, public affairs, carpentry, journalism, fashion design, and accounting, just to name a few of the choices.

“Anyone who has the opportunity to apprentice or intern should go for it,” says Ellesse. “There’s so much you learn from doing and observing that you can’t get from books.”

And if you’re not sure yet what you want to do, don’t worry. “Take whatever you’ve been given and learn more about it, because the intelligence you gain will take you places,” says Ellesse.

Elder Fyans will always remember a story his mother told him about herself as a baby. This story has been a source of faith and strength to him over the years. “My mother was the first white girl born in Tuba, Arizona. One morning when she had barely learned to walk, she fell into an open fireplace and was badly burned. Her father was away from home at the time, but something impressed him that he should return home. Arriving home about four o’clock in the morning, he found that his little daughter was critically burned. Grandmother said, ‘Let the child die. She’s so badly scarred.’ But my grandfather picked his little daughter up in his arms, and he and the patriarch gave her a blessing. He blessed her that she would not be scarred and that one day she would sing before the crowned heads of Europe. That kind of blessing for a little child born on an Indian reservation was impressive.

“My mother grew to be a healthy, normal child, and, as the blessing had promised, she was not scarred. As she grew to maturity, she sang for a number of years with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. The choir toured Europe and she did sing before royalty there, fulfilling the blessing given to her years before by those having priesthood authority.”

Far to the south, in Sicily, Rosario Virgillito and his wife-to-be both faced opposition from their families when they joined the Church in 1984. Because a big church wedding is a strong tradition in Sicily, their families were puzzled and hurt that Rosario and his sweetheart wanted to be married instead in something called a temple, in faraway Switzerland. But the couple did what they knew was right. Rosario serves now as elders quorum president in the Catania Branch of the Italy Catania Mission. As a pioneer in his family, he knows his example will be crucial. “I can’t make a mistake, because my family watches me closely.”