Gospel Story Finder

I have also had to repent. Before I repented, my friends all knew what was going on, and I felt like I was letting everyone down. My family relationships were bad too. It helped to talk to my parents. They were upset, but they supported my decision to change. I lost a lot of friends, but the ones I have now love me even though I made some bad choices. It helps to pray to Heavenly Father. He knew what I was going through and helped me through the trial. He will help anyone who asks for help.
Allisyn G., 16, Utah, USA

After our return to the hotel, I became quite ill during the night. The next morning my traveling companions came to my bedroom to see why I had not come to breakfast. I told them I was too ill to get out of bed. They said that they would eat breakfast and then go down to the airstrip and look at the plane to see that everything was all right.
They soon returned and informed me that clouds had settled down on the airstrip and on Tuxtla so heavily that we would not be able to get out. We were fogged in, and they had been informed that the airstrip would probably be fogged in for a considerable time because the rainy season was beginning. They asked me what should be done.
After thinking for a few moments I was impressed by the Holy Spirit to say, “Give me a blessing and we will fly out today.” At first they replied, “President Hunter, you are too ill to fly.” But I insisted on being blessed. President Strong anointed and his son Bert sealed the anointing and gave me a blessing. I immediately got up out of bed, went in and ate breakfast, and felt completely healed.
We took our luggage and went down to the airstrip. Shortly after, the clouds lifted sufficiently for us to fly out. We heard later from the archaeological workman that several days passed before the fog and clouds lifted again. Therefore, that particular day was our time to fly out of Tuxtla.

I read with interest “His Life Was in My Hands” and the accounts of heroism that our brethren have displayed. I had to think back to two years ago, to an incident that occurred in our ward, the San Antonio First Ward of the San Antonio Texas East Stake.
On a sunny June morning our building custodian Agustin Garcia and his family were caring for the chapel and grounds. His 13-year-old son Johnny was riding the lawn-mowing machine, with 12-year-old Michael at his side. At one point both boys got off the mower to clear away some debris, Their younger sister, Judy, came up from behind and tried to get on the mower. She accidently knocked the machine into gear and it knocked her down and felt on top of her.
Michael saw and immediately ran to her. He tried to lift the mower off her and lost the center of his left foot in the blades. Johnny ran over, turned off the machines, removed his brother and sister, tore his clothing and made pressure bandages to stop their bleeding, and stayed with them, doing what he could, until emergency help arrived. He is credited with saving the life of his sister by applying the first aid principles learned in Scouting.
Not only did he remain calm through the entire incident, but Johnny then called me, his bishop, to start the ward in action to help the family. We in the ward are proud of these two young men and their actions to help their sister. The scars remain on Judy and Michael, but their lives are normal now.
I felt that others ought to know of the unsung heros we have here in San Antonio. I feel the true rewards are those awaiting these brethren in heaven for their selfless actions.

“My Mother opened a little country store to help keep our family out of debt. I worked with her in the store quite a bit. She taught me about respecting and serving people. Once, when I was fourteen, my mom and dad went to Salt Lake City for a conference and left me to take care of the store. The Hutterites in our area wouldn’t go to the bank to cash their huge grain checks, so Mom was an insured cashier, and we would sometimes have thousands of dollars in the store safe. I knew the combination to the safe, and I knew that my parents trusted me, so I opened and closed the store on time and took care of the customers.”

Sister Kapp believes that “the way to be happy and feel good about yourself and to please Heavenly Father is to learn to be obedient. Even if we don’t understand why we should or should not do certain things, if we will just trust in our parents and in the wisdom of our Father in Heaven, one day we will understand. My hope is that every child will develop the self-discipline to do what he knows is right. When we’re obedient, we’re happy; when we’re disobedient, we’re not happy. It’s just that simple. Let us, then, choose to be happy.”

Several years ago, a student who had studied at the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center wrote to me soon after returning to the United States. She reported a particular challenge regarding Sabbath work: “One of the most difficult things I had to do was tell my boss that I couldn’t work for him on Sundays anymore. The last two summers it didn’t bother me to work on Sunday, but because of the knowledge I’ve gained since then, there’s no way I could justify it now.”
Her admiration for her boss made telling him difficult. “I guess I didn’t want to tell him because he’s been so good to me; I’ve always been able to count on having a job there.”
It took her three days, including a day of fasting, to get up the courage. “All I wanted was for him to understand my position. I took an olivewood carving as a peace offering—just in case. Of course, the conversation centered around Jerusalem and everything I’d done in Israel. I tried to prepare him for why I couldn’t work on Sunday.
“The conversation eventually came around to my job. My nerves betrayed me and my voice got a little shaky, but finally my feelings came out. The Spirit must have been there because there were tears in his eyes, and it was hard for him to talk, too. He told me that he respected my decision and was glad that I stood up for what I believed in.
“He also explained that his beliefs were a little different from mine and that he had to be fair and treat all of his employees equally. He never did come out and say I wouldn’t be working for him any longer—but we both knew. It felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders. I don’t have a job, but that’s okay; something will work out.”

Tyler’s family had signed up to help feed the missionaries, and tonight they were coming to dinner. Tyler loved having visitors, and Mom had promised he could sit next to them.
At the table, Tyler felt shy and didn’t know what to say. He wanted to be a missionary someday, so he listened and watched carefully. He wanted to remember how missionaries act. He looked at their shiny shoes, white shirts, and straight ties. Then he noticed something on their shirt pockets. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to Elder Snow’s pocket.
“My name tag,” Elder Snow replied, holding it up a little.
“‘Elder Snow,’”Tyler read. “‘The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.’ Do all missionaries have name tags?”
“I think so,” Elder Millburn replied. “We want everyone to know that we are missionaries for the Church.”
“I always make sure to put my name tag on,” Elder Snow added. “I want everybody to know I believe in Jesus Christ.”
After the missionaries left, Tyler told Mom, “I’m going to make a name tag. I want to wear one so people will know I believe in Jesus Christ.”
Tyler cut a rectangle out of paper and carefully printed his name on it. Below his name, he wrote, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” He taped a folded paper to the back to insert in his pocket and keep the name tag on. He went to the mirror to see how it looked.
First thing in the morning he thought about his name tag. Hurriedly he got dressed and put it on.
When Mom went grocery shopping, Tyler went, too. He walked around, hoping everyone saw his name tag. While they were going back to the car, it started to rain. He pushed the cart quickly and helped Mom load the car before they both got very wet. “Such a good helper!” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
At home he helped carry in the groceries. When he leaned over, he noticed that his name tag was torn and sagging. And rain had smeared the words. I need a better name tag, he told himself.
That afternoon, he cut a rectangle out of a plastic lid. He wrote his and the Church’s name on it with a marker so the words wouldn’t wash away. He taped another piece of plastic to the back and stuck it in his pocket. He had a name tag again. Showing it to Dad, he said, “Just like the missionaries, I like to wear my name tag.”
Tyler went to show his big sister. She was studying at her desk and didn’t seem very happy.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, forgetting about the name tag.
“I have too much homework,” she moaned, “and it’s my turn to do the dishes.” She started writing again.
Tyler watched for a minute. “I’ll do the dishes.”
His sister looked surprised.
“My homework is all done,” he said. “I have time to do them.”
She gave him a hug and exclaimed, “You’re a great brother!”
Tyler did the dishes, but his shirt got wet and dirty. Pulling it off, he threw it in the laundry.
Getting dressed the next morning, he remembered his name tag and ran to the laundry room. His mother had already washed the shirt. She was putting it in the dryer. “Wait!” he yelled, pulling the shirt out of the pile. The name tag fell to the floor, twisted and warped. Tyler couldn’t make it lie flat. He threw it away. I’ll have to make something better, he told himself.
In the garage, Tyler searched for a thin wood scrap. Finding one just the right size, he went in the house to paint it. With a pointed brush he printed the letters. He made two holes in the wood with a hammer and nail and put a piece of twine through them so he could wear the name tag around his neck. When he took his shirt off, this name tag would stay put and wouldn’t get ruined. Tyler showed it to Mom and Dad. “Clever,” they told him.
Tyler wanted to show it to his best friend, Jason. He went outside and looked to see if Jason was in his yard next door. From the other direction, a boy on a tricycle whizzed by, laughing. His dog ran along beside him, barking in fun. It was little Jimmy from down the block.
Jimmy’s mother ran after him, calling frantically, “Stop! You’ve gone too far!” But Jimmy didn’t hear her, so Tyler raced to catch up with him. Grabbing the tricycle, Tyler gently pulled it to a stop and turned it around. He led Jimmy and his dog back to Jimmy’s mother.
“Thank you for stopping him,” she said. “He might have ridden into the street and been hurt. You’re a good neighbor!”
Tyler waved good-bye and headed back to find Jason. He reached for his name tag and stopped suddenly. It was gone! It must have fallen off while I was running, he realized. He finally found it, but the twine was broken and the name tag lay in pieces. It had been run over by the tricycle. Tyler walked home and laid the pieces on the table. “Jimmy ran over my name tag,” he told his mother, angrily. Then, with a big sigh, he said, “But I guess he didn’t mean to.”
A few minutes later, Tyler heard his father come home and ran out to tell him about the name tag.
“You know,” his father said, “not all missionaries wear name tags. When I was a missionary, we didn’t have name tags.”
Tyler was surprised. “How did people know you believed in Jesus Christ?”
“We told them,” Dad said. “And we tried to show them by the way we acted.”
That evening Tyler and his parents went to the stake center because one of his friends was being baptized. During the meeting, a speaker talked about Jesus Christ. “If we try to live as he did,” the man said, “people will know we believe in him.”
Tyler thought about that as they went home. Remembering what Dad had said, he suddenly knew what he could do.
“Mom! Dad!” he said excitedly. “There is a name tag I can wear that won’t get ruined or lost—an invisible one! If I try my hardest to live like Jesus Christ did, it’s like telling people I believe in him. It’s like wearing an invisible name tag!”
Dad smiled. “You’re right, son.”
Mom hugged Tyler. “I’ve already seen your invisible name tag.”
“You have?” Tyler asked, looking down at his shirt.
“Yes, it’s been there,” replied his mother. “Each time you’ve been helpful and kind—like when you washed the dishes for your sister and when you helped little Jimmy—your name tag was there.”
Tyler looked down again. He didn’t see the invisible name tag, but his mother had seen it. He hoped other people would see it, too, because he wanted everyone to know that he believed in Jesus Christ.

Earlier this year my reading and writing buddy came to class feeling blue. She had made some mistakes on her math work. She said, “I’m useless.”
I was worried about my friend, so I told her all about Jesus and how He loves us. I told her how that means we are not useless! Then I sang “I Am a Child of God” to her. She loved it and asked me where I learned these things. I explained that my family goes to church every week and that I learn a lot about Jesus in Primary.
That night she told her mom about our conversation. She asked her mom if they could come to church with my family. Her mom said yes!
My friend sat next to me in sacrament meeting that very Sunday! Now she joins me at church almost every week. She and her parents are learning more and more about the gospel of Jesus Christ from the missionaries and other families in our ward.
I feel very happy that I was able to follow the Savior’s example and comfort a sad friend. Whether or not her family decides to get baptized, the best part is that now she knows that God and Jesus love her, no matter what!

My husband and I lived in the same ward as my angel mother. Each Sunday, as a member of the Relief Society presidency, I sat at the front of the Relief Society room, facing the sisters. My mother always sat in the same place on the front row.
I enjoyed watching her responses to the lessons and hearing her comments. After each meeting, she kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand. My mother and I were close, so it broke my heart when she passed away unexpectedly.
After her funeral, my emotions remained tender. When Sunday arrived, my husband asked if I would be all right attending church without him. His calling often took him away from our ward.
“I will be all right until I see Mom’s empty chair,” I said. “I don’t know if I can see that empty chair and keep my emotions under control.”
My husband suggested that I try not to look at the chair. I decided to do my best.
Everyone at church was supportive and loving. When it came time to go to Relief Society, I took my seat at the front of the room, but I kept my eyes on the floor.
As the lesson began, however, I couldn’t help but look toward my mother’s usual spot. I expected to see her empty chair, but instead I saw my ministering sister sitting in her place. She smiled at me. I felt relief and gratitude for her kindness. I was able to get through the meeting without being overcome by grief. After the meeting I thanked her.
“Seeing Mom’s empty chair was the one thing I knew I couldn’t handle today. How did you know?” I asked her.
“When I walked into the room today, I had a feeling that seeing her empty chair would be hard for you,” she replied. “So I decided to sit there.”
This kind act meant more to me than she knew. I am thankful she was in tune with the Spirit’s prompting. I know that even small acts can have a healing effect on those we minister to. I believe this is how the Savior would have us minister to each other.

In 1950 I married my dear wife Fidelia Njoku. She was born at Ibeku Okwuato in Aboh Mbaise Local Government Area in 1930, the daughter of Nkoku Ugonabo and his wife Ekeoma. Both parents died when she was very young, and as a result she was denied the opportunity of education. As an orphan with younger brothers and sisters to support, she was engaged in petty trading, covering many kilometers away from home to distant markets to earn a living. She had been converted to the Catholic religion and was appointed leader in many organizations. She told me that God was directing all her affairs because of the very strong faith she had in him, and that she did all she could to avoid the temptations of the devil.
During the early years of our marriage, we had a series of troubles as a result of miscarriages. All our hopes were placed in God’s protection and the advice from our doctors. Things were very difficult, so I became a trader, with my wife as the storekeeper. She was honest and deserved the honour and admiration of people around us, who regarded her as a worthy homemaker and example to other women. Her duty is ever to give sound advice to people in all walks of life whenever her attention is needed, and her family responsibilities are the first things in her life.
In 1952 I started teaching and struggled hard to further my education. My wife was patient enough to wait for me to go to teacher training college for four years. I had a marvelous teaching career. I did not know that God had a work for me to do, besides my small efforts in the teaching profession.
In November 1965, I was visited in a dream by a tall person carrying a walking stick in his right hand. He asked whether I had read about Christian and Christiana from A Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan. I told him that I had forgotten it and he told me to read it again. After a few months the same personage appeared to me again and took me to a most beautiful building and showed me everything in it. That personage appeared to me three times.
During the Nigerian civil war, when we were confined to the house, I picked up an old copy of the Reader’s Digest for September 1958. I opened it at page 34 and saw a picture of the same beautiful building I had been shown around in my dream, and I immediately recognized it. The heading was “The March of the Mormons.” I had never before heard the word Mormons. I started to read the story because of the picture of the building I had seen in my dream. I discovered that it was all about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
From the time I finished reading the story, I had no rest of mind any longer. My whole attention was focused on my new discovery. I rushed out immediately to tell my brothers, who were all amazed and astonished to hear the story.
By that time there was a blockade all over Nigeria, so I could not write any letter to the headquarters of the Church. At the removal of the blockade in 1971 I wrote a letter for instructions. Pamphlets, tracts, and a Book of Mormon were sent to me, including “Joseph Smith’s Testimony” about the restoration of the gospel. Brother LaMar S. Williams was in the Missionary Department at that time, and his instructions were that they had no authority to organize the Church in Nigeria then. I was totally disappointed, but the Holy Spirit moved me to continue writing. Many a time in dreams I saw some of the missionaries of the Church discussing matters about the Church.
Persecutions, name calling, and all kinds of abuses were rendered to me. I was persecuted in various ways but I kept deaf ears. I knew I had discovered the truth and men’s threats could not move me and my group. So we continued asking God to open the door for us.
Elder W. Grant Bangerter answered a letter I sent in the same way—that the Church could not be organized in Nigeria yet, but that the leadership had the desire to do so.
On 9 October 1976, I wrote to Elder Bangerter:
“I have received your letter of Sept. 24 with thanks. I have noted what you said therein. We are not discouraged anyhow but shall continue to pursue the practice of our faith which we have found to be true. …
“We are very optimistic that Our Lord Jesus Christ will make it possible in the future for the Church to take more direct action. We are well aware that our faith is being tried. We are doing everything we can to establish the truth among so many of Our Heavenly Father’s children in this part of the world.”
Brother Williams gave us a program to follow on Sundays. We continued praying always, until the 21st of November 1978, when the Church was officially opened for the black race (in Africa) with the authority to hold the priesthood and administer the ordinances thereof.
Nineteen members were baptized on the above date by Elders Rendell N. Mabey, Edwin Q. Cannon, Jr., and A. Bruce Knudsen. The Aboh Branch was organized, with Anthony Obinna as president, his brothers Francis and Raymond as his counselors, and his wife Fidelia as Relief Society president. When President Obinna expressed concern about the propriety of having his own family in these offices, Elder Mabey assured him that they had been chosen for their worthiness, not for their kinship. The new branch presidency promptly reported the event in a jubilant letter to the First Presidency:
“Dear Brethren,
“All the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in this part of Nigeria have the pleasure to thank you and the Latter-day Saints throughout the world for opening the door for the Gospel to come to our people in its fullness.
“We are happy for the many hours in the Upper Room of the Temple you spent praying to the Lord to bring us into the fold. We thank our Heavenly Father for hearing your prayers and ours and by revelation. He has confirmed the long promised day, and has granted the holy priesthood to us, with the power to exercise its divine authority and enjoy every blessing of the temple.
“There is no doubt that the Church here will grow and become a mighty center for the Saints and bring progress enough to the people of Nigeria as it is doing all over the world.”
I am blessed with a humble and loyal wife, with seven fine and beautiful children who are all members of the true church on earth. My children are all educated. My first daughter and my first son are certified teachers. Bonadventure has completed secondary class five, Angella is in secondary class four, Stella Ego is in secondary class two, and Anastasia is in secondary class one. The youngest boy in the family is entering college in September 1980.
The most important talk and love in my house is about “our church.” As Christ is guarding his true church, membership is increasing daily, and I testify that in the future, the membership of the Church will be as great as the sand on the seashore. God is great and performs wonders. No human power can withhold God’s work in this world.

“If there is anything that qualifies me for this calling it is the testimony that I gained at age 18 while I prepared for a mission,” says Elder James Joseph Hamula. “I had a most remarkable experience where I received a strong witness of the divinity of the Lord and of His Church.”
Born on November 20, 1957, in Long Beach, California, USA, to Joseph and Joyce Hamula, Elder Hamula remembers reading the account of the First Vision. He read of how the young Joseph Smith wanted to know what was right, and felt that he too needed to go to the Lord in prayer. “So I knelt at my bedside and earnestly prayed to the heavens. And in response I got an answer that was as clear and as unmistakable as anything that I’ve experienced in life. I got up off my knees knowing that the Church was true.”
Elder Hamula has also served as a bishop, stake president, and Area Seventy. “All my experiences in the Church have been refinements of that singular experience as a young man of 18 preparing for my mission,” he says. “That was the foundation of it all.”

Romans 8:16 says, “The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.” The first time I remember feeling with all certainty that Heavenly Father knew me, loved me, and cared for me was when I entered the waters of baptism at age 15. Before then, I knew God existed and Jesus Christ was the Savior of the world. I believed in Them and loved Them, but I had never felt Their love and care for me, individually, until that day as I rejoiced in my opportunity to make baptismal covenants.
I realized what a great miracle it had been to have been found and taught by the missionaries, especially with only a handful of missionaries amongst two million people! I knew then that Heavenly Father knew me and loved me in such a special way that He guided the missionaries to my home.

Illustrations by Cam Kendell
Hi, Mia. Want to play four square with us?
I don’t really feel like playing right now.
OK.
That night …
Sound label: Sniffle (coming from top bunk)
I don’t know why I feel so sad. Maybe a Primary song will help me feel better.
Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer?
What’s wrong, Mia?
I was sad, but now I feel the Holy Ghost.
What does the Holy Ghost do?
He comforts us. That’s why He’s called the Comforter.
Mom, Dad, guess what? I felt the Holy Ghost! I was sad, and He comforted me.
I’m so glad! Come tell us about it.
The next day …
Hi, Mia. Are you feeling better?
Yes! Can I play with you today?
Yeah! Let’s go.
Thanks!
Thanks to Mia P. for sharing her story!

Here is one instance from an official account.1 During fighting in Somalia in October of 1993, two United States Army Rangers in a helicopter during the firefight learned that two other helicopters near them had fallen to the earth. The two rangers, in their relative safety aloft, learned by radio that no ground forces were available to rescue one of the downed aircrews. Growing numbers of the enemy were closing in on the crash site.

The two men watching from above volunteered to go down to the ground (the words they used on the radio were to “be inserted”) to protect their critically wounded comrades. Their request was denied because the situation was so dangerous. They asked a second time. Permission was again denied. Only after their third request were they put down on the ground.

Armed only with their personal weapons, they fought their way to the crashed helicopter and the injured fliers. They moved through intense small arms fire as enemies converged on the crash site. They pulled the wounded from the wreckage. They put themselves in a perimeter around the wounded, placing themselves in the most dangerous positions. They protected their comrades until their ammunition was depleted and they were fatally wounded. Their bravery and their sacrifice saved the life of a pilot who would have been lost.

They were each awarded posthumously the Medal of Honor, their nation’s highest recognition for bravery in the face of an armed enemy. The citation reads that what they did was “above and beyond the call of duty.”

But I wonder if they saw it that way as they moved to the downed airmen. Out of loyalty they felt a duty to stand by their fellow soldiers, whatever the cost. The courage to act and their selfless service came from feeling that they were responsible for the lives, the happiness, and the safety of comrades.

I had been tidying my house, but I couldn’t even vacuum the floors and dust my furniture, because I had so much clutter laying around. God’s house is a house of order (D&C 132:8), and I needed to make mine that way too. A wonderful thing happened to me in the process of tidying my house – I found some “hidden” treasures. Most of us are familiar with the story in the New Testament about looking for a lost coin (Luke 15:8-10). Today, I was looking for my original birth certificate that I needed for applying for a free bus pass.
In the process of looking I found lots of other surprises, but unfortunately, I couldn’t find my birth certificate. I knew that I had originally put it into the top drawer of my filing cabinet in a light brown money belt; but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Then I looked through all the other file cabinet drawers, to no avail. The other drawers were filled with old bank statements, car repair bills, pay-cheques, house and car insurance documents, etc., but there was no birth certificate to be found anywhere.
Finally, after spending an hour searching, I prayed for help from Heavenly Father to find the lost document. I felt (through the Holy Ghost) that my birth certificate was indeed in the top drawer of my filing cabinet. So, I went back to the drawer and looked through all the piles of papers again. Imagine my surprise when I got down to the very bottom of the drawer and found my birth certificate in a blue pouch. That was when I remembered that I had changed where I stored my birth certificate about two years ago. I’m so glad that the Holy Ghost remembered where my birth certificate was.
But the story doesn’t end there. While delving into the bottom of my filing cabinet drawers, I also found 3 crisp, new, £20 notes, which were sitting among a pile of credit card receipts. Once I found the money, I remembered that I had put them there for safekeeping about a year ago. It was a lovely surprise to find them today. Yesterday I also found some money unexpectedly, as I was cleaning out my handbag. I found a small wallet that I hadn’t used for about two years and when I opened it, I found two £10 notes inside!
I also looked in my filing cabinet for my cheque book, because I wanted to attend tithing settlement on Sunday. I needed to write out a cheque for some extra tithing that I owed. I couldn’t remember the last time that I wrote a cheque for anything, so I had no idea where my cheque book was. When I eventually found it, I looked at the cheque stubs and saw that the last cheque that I had written was four years ago. It’s no wonder that the banks want to “phase” cheques out, because very few people use them anymore. The only thing that I used a cheque for in the past was to pay my tithing every month. Now that I pay my tithing using a standing order from my bank, I have no need to use cheques anymore. Once I had found my cheque book, I wrote out a cheque for the outstanding tithing that I owed this year and put it into my handbag.
On the way home from submitting my bus pass application, I thought to myself: “I should stop and say hello to Jan and Steve.” I hadn’t seen these friends for about two years because they had moved to a new house. Once I found the house, I knocked on the door and Jan opened it. She was in the middle of vacuuming and cleaning when I arrived unannounced and she was standing beside an ottoman in the kitchen. As we talked she said, “We have been in a big mess for a year, but we are finally getting things the way we want them now. I’m getting rid of this ottoman, would you like it?”
"Yes please," I replied.
What Jan didn’t know, was that I had been looking for an ottoman like this for about six months. I had even gone into three charity shops that day, looking for such an item, but I couldn’t find one. But the Holy Ghost knew exactly where a used ottoman was, and he prompted me to go to Jan’s new house, because that was the day that she was throwing one away.
Isn’t Heavenly Father kind to us? On the day that I wrote out a cheque for extra tithing, I found money and was given furniture equal to the exact amount that I had written out my tithing cheque for. I had read about these types of stories in the Ensign before, but it had never happened to me, until that day.

For Tino, missionary service took an unexpected turn. Deferment of their mandatory military obligation is not allowed for Portuguese missionaries, and Tino was called into his country’s air force. He still remembers the counsel of R. Perry Ficklin, then president of the Portugal Lisbon Mission, who explained that Elder Moreira’s missionary service wasn’t over, that he was only being “transferred to another area—more difficult.” Tino went on to teach and baptize a number of people in the air force.

In Portugal, in the city of Funchal, lived a lady named Asencao Frango, who had been a nun for twenty years. She ran a home for poor children and orphans. Early in her life as a nun, doctors discovered a cancer in her throat. Having a strong feeling that she had not finished her work on earth, she prayed with great faith and was healed. When her church decided to close the children’s home, she used her own money to keep it going for four years—until the children living there were either adopted or old enough to be on their own.
When she heard of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, she and a friend attended out of curiosity. The meeting was held on the dirt floor of a member’s garage. But the spirit she felt there impressed her, and the elders began teaching her the discussions. She read the Book of Mormon, gained a strong testimony of its divinity, and soon asked to be baptized. A year later she obtained her temple recommend and could hardly wait to enter the Swiss Temple to pledge sacred covenants with Heavenly Father.
Many lands in Europe are becoming lands of temples. When President Thomas S. Monson rededicated the land of Germany for the advancement of the work of the Church, he prayed, “Heavenly Father, wilt Thou open up the way that the faithful may be accorded the privilege of going to Thy holy temple, there to receive their holy endowments and to be sealed as families for time and all eternity.”

A true story from France.
Adeline finished drawing the last check box on her paper. Next to it, she wrote, Say prayers morning and night.
“What’s this?” Maman asked.
“I’m making a checklist for tomorrow,” Adeline said. “I’m going to have a perfect day!”
Maman raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
Adeline nodded. “In Primary we learned about being perfected in Christ. I’m going to be extra good so I can have perfect days.”
“I’m happy you want to make good choices,” Maman said. “But you know, there was only one person on the earth who was perfect—Jesus Christ.”
Adeline sighed. “I know. But I really want to try! I think I can do it.”
When morning came, Adeline was ready. She made her bed and said her morning prayer.
At breakfast, she helped feed her little sister, Sylvia. When Sylvia spilled her peaches all over her chair, Adeline took a deep breath. She counted to four and helped clean up.
At school, Adeline looked for people who needed help. Lucas had a sprained ankle, so she carried his lunch tray for him.
While leaving school, Adeline smiled her biggest grin at the lady who held the school gate open. The lady usually looked grumpy. But today she smiled back!
After school, Adeline gave Sylvia her favorite stuffed animal to play with. And before going to bed, she said a prayer. She checked off the items on her list and snuggled into her blankets. She felt very proud and very tired. She was ready for another perfect day tomorrow!
When Adeline woke up the next day, all her dolls were scattered around the floor. Sylvia was holding one and sucking on it. She must have pulled them all out!
“Sylvia!” Adeline yelled. “I told you not to touch my dolls!” She grabbed the doll Sylvia was holding. Sylvia cried and ran away.
Adeline glanced at her checklist on the door. Her heart sank.
Maman came in just as Adeline felt a tear on her cheek.
“What’s happened?” Maman asked.
“I forgot to say my prayer. I didn’t make my bed.” Adeline’s voice wobbled. “And I was mean to Sylvia. My perfect day is officially over!”
Maman gave Adeline a hug. “It’s very hard to be perfect all the time. Actually, it’s impossible.”
Adeline frowned. “But then how can I be perfect in Christ?”
“That’s just it! We can’t be perfected without Jesus Christ,” Maman said. “He gave His life for us because Heavenly Father knew we would make mistakes and would need help. Jesus takes our imperfect attempts and makes them better.”
Adeline thought about it. “So I can’t have perfect days every day?” she asked.
Maman shook her head. “No. You’ll have hard days. But you’ll have good days too.” Maman tucked Adeline’s hair behind her ear. “You trying your best is what matters. Even if a day starts out with a wrong choice, we can always say a prayer to repent and try again. With Jesus Christ’s help, you are enough.”
Adeline felt warm inside.
“Now, for your list.” Maman pointed to the list. “How about we just focus on one thing?”
Adeline looked at her list. She tore off part of the paper and taped what was left back on the door. The one item still there said, Say prayers morning and night.
Adeline smiled. “My day may not have started perfect, but I can still say a prayer now. And with Jesus Christ’s help, it will be enough!”

Serving in a stake presidency, I was touched by an experience shared by Elder Mervyn B. Arnold of the Seventy in the April 2004 general conference as he shared the story of Brother Marques who rescued a young man by the name of Fernando who had become less active and did not attend Church meetings on Sundays.
Fernando “‘became involved in surfing competitions on Sunday mornings and stopped going to … Church meetings. One Sunday morning Brother Marques knocked on [his] door and asked [his] nonmember mother if he could talk to [him]. When she told him [Fernando] was sleeping, he asked for permission to wake [him]. He said to [him], “Fernando, you are late for church!” Not listening to [his] excuses, he took [him] to church.
“‘The next Sunday the same thing happened, so on the third Sunday [Fernando] decided to leave early to avoid him. As [Fernando] opened the gate, [he] found [Brother Marques] sitting on his car, reading the scriptures. When he saw [him] he said, “Good! You are up early. Today we will go and find another young man!” [Fernando] appealed to [his] agency, but [Brother Marques] said, “We can talk about that later.”
“‘After eight Sundays [Fernando] could not get rid of him, so [he] decided to sleep at a friend’s house. [Fernando] was at the beach the next morning when [he] saw a man dressed in a suit and tie walking towards [him]. When [he] saw that it was Brother Marques, [he] ran into the water. All of a sudden, [he] felt someone’s hand on [his] shoulder. It was Brother Marques, in water up to his chest! He took [him] by the hand and said, “You are late! Let’s go.” When [Fernando] argued that [he] didn’t have any clothes to wear, [Brother Marques] replied, “They are in the car.”
“‘That day as [they] walked out of the ocean, [Fernando] was touched by Brother Marques’s sincere love and worry for [him]. He truly understood the Savior’s words: “I will seek that which was lost, and bring again that which was driven away, and will bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen that which was sick” (Ezekiel 34:16).’”2

President Cowley had an interesting story to tell about repentance.

There was a man by the name of Syd who lived in a little Maori village on the east coast of New Zealand. At that time there was a large branch of the Church there with about four hundred members. One Saturday afternoon, after a long, eight-hour drive, President Cowley arrived at this village and went directly to see his old friend, Syd.

As a young man, Syd had been an outstanding athlete. He had attended high school and college in the United States. He had become a well-known basketball player, and, as an all-star athlete, he had received a lot of publicity.

Syd had been ordained a seventy while he had lived in the United States, and when he arrived back in New Zealand, he had found that he was the only seventy in the whole area, and he didn’t have a quorum to belong to. He had become somewhat inactive, and he hadn’t been keeping the Word of Wisdom, but deep within his heart he still knew the gospel to be true.

As a mission president and a friend, President Cowley called on Syd, and found him sitting in a rocking chair on his front porch, smoking a big cigar. Syd didn’t stop chewing on his cigar as President Cowley sat down beside him to visit.

After they had talked and laughed for a while, President Cowley became serious and said, “Syd, I want you to come to church tomorrow. I’m going to release the branch president and put in a new one.”

Syd said, “I haven’t been there for a long time. Why don’t you just tell me who the new branch president will be, and then I won’t have to get myself cleaned up for church in the morning.”

President Cowley said, “Well, I’ll tell you who it is. It’s going to be you.”

Syd pulled that old cigar out of his mouth, looked at it, and said, “President, you mean me and my cigar?”

President Cowley said, “No, Syd—just you. We don’t need your cigar.”

Then Syd threw the cigar out on the ground in front of the porch. He thought for a minute, turned to President Cowley, and very humbly said, “President, I won’t break the Word of Wisdom any more. I’m a full-tithe payer. I’ll be the branch president, and I’ll be worthy. Tomorrow morning I’ll be there, and I promise you that I’ll be the best branch president in the whole country. You won’t have to worry about me and whether or not I’m living the gospel.”

For the next several years, Syd served as one of the strongest and finest leaders in the mission. His son became the first bishop in the ward when the stake was created. Just recently, his grandson was released from serving as a bishop. Syd’s whole family is strong and active in the Church today and is one of the great families in New Zealand. Why? Because old Syd knew how to repent. He repented on the spot. When he was called to repentance, he quit his worldly ways. He became and remained a faithful Saint until the day he died.

In most cases, that’s all there is to repentance. Do you see how really simple that was? President Cowley never did ask Syd to repent. He gave him an opportunity to be of service to the Church in a priesthood calling. Syd knew that if he accepted that calling, he could no longer sin, so he immediately quit. It was over—just like that! The Lord accepted his repentance, and Syd became a great leader.

One summer years ago, for example, I had a weekend free. Yet the Spirit prompted me to fulfill a responsibility. I boarded a plane for California. As I sat down, the seat next to me was empty. However, there occupied that seat eventually a most beautiful young lady. I noted that she was reading a book. As one is wont to do, I glanced at the title. It was by a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. I said to her, “Oh, you must be a Mormon.”

She responded, “Oh, no. Why would you ask?”

I replied: “Well, you’re reading a book written by a very prominent member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

She said, “Is that right? A friend gave this to me, but I don’t know much about it. However, it has aroused my curiosity.”

Then I wondered. Should I be forward and say more about the Church? And the words of Peter came: “Be ready always” (1 Peter 3:15). And I decided that this was the time when I should bear my testimony. It was my privilege to answer her questions relative to the Church—intelligent questions that came from a heart that was seeking the truth. I asked if I might have the opportunity to have missionaries call upon her. I asked if she would like to attend our branch of single adults in San Francisco. Her answers were affirmative. Upon returning home, I wrote to the stake president and passed along to him this information. Can you imagine my delight when I later received a call from the stake president, in which he said that she had become the newest member of the Church. I was overjoyed.