Gospel Story Finder

I was baptized in February 1991, and soon after I received the January 1991 issue of Der Stern (German), in which I read an article concerning baptism for the dead. I decided that I would have my mother baptized as soon as I could go to the temple. After that, my mother appeared to me by my bed and told me that she would accept her baptism.
I am eternally grateful to my Heavenly Father because I owe this wonderful experience to him and to Der Stern, which brought this message to me.
Erika GiesenGluckstadt Ward, Neumunster Germany Stake

Illustration by Bradley Clark
Because of old plumbing and an unsound foundation, my childhood home flooded whenever a storm produced enough rain. Because storms in Virginia, USA, can last for hours, water invaded frequently.
We lived in that home during most of my growing-up years, so I thought flooding was normal.
After several storms, we improved our flood-fighting tactics and learned to work together. Storms often hit in the middle of the night, and my parents would wake us all up to work at our posts as the water encroached through the basement like slow-moving lava. My brother and father would bucket out the stairwell while my sister and I quickly sopped up water with towels to save the carpet.
We giggled as we jumped and danced on those towels, feeling the squishy wetness between our toes and through our pajama legs. Mom hurriedly wrung out the drenched towels, hurled them into the dryer, and brought new ones fresh for stomping. When we were satisfied the house was safe, we went to the kitchen to dry off and enjoy hot cocoa and cookies for our labors. Then, if it wasn’t yet time for school, we would try to go back to sleep.
Whenever my childhood home would flood, my brother and father would bucket out the stairwell while my sister and I quickly sopped up water with towels.
These floods must have given my parents great anxiety, but I remember them as some of the happiest moments of my childhood, even with the booming thunder and the flashing lightning. In fact, the smell of wet carpet still makes me nostalgic for family time.
My parents could have fought the flooding alone, but I’m so glad they employed all of us in defense of our home. Fighting the water was a joyous event because we were together and we each played a part.
Now that I am grown, I think about those days and wonder how I can create the same joy of working together in my own children. Though grateful that my home does not flood, I know that something unwanted will inevitably encroach upon our family.
No matter what trouble my family may deal with in the future, I hope we stay together and work together in defending our values, our faith, and each other. Then perhaps, even in adversity, we can laugh, smile, and feel happy as we labor side by side.

Sister Andrea Julião, from São Paulo, Brazil, discovered that just as relationships with earthly friends grow stronger when we spend time together, our relationship with Heavenly Father becomes stronger when we focus on Him through Sabbath worship.

While visiting family who weren’t members of the Church, Sister Julião decided to wake up early Sunday and try to find a Latter-day Saint church building in the area. As her family prepared for a day of adventurous recreation, Sister Julião searched the neighborhood until she met someone who pointed out a steeple in the distance. Sister Julião was able to attend worship services. “I had the most amazing Sabbath day,” she said. “I felt Heavenly Father’s love so strongly. I felt that He enjoys when His children obey His teachings. I gained a stronger testimony of the Church of Jesus Christ.”

This teaching may seem a paradox. After all, isn’t getting more of the things you want the way to be happy? The youth of the São Paulo Brazil Santo Amaro Stake know better. Two weeks before their youth conference, they began collecting food, toys, and clothing—loving gifts for the children of a state orphanage. The donations came not just from members of the Church, but from other neighbors, too.
“I learned that we must love one another and not just ourselves. I also learned that everyone needs to live in harmony. I believe we should help those who need help like the mentally ill, the homeless, and the orphaned.”
Carlos dos Santos Souza, Diadema Second Ward
On Saturday, the conference opened with a day of soccer, volleyball, other sports, and a roadshow. But on Sunday, the two hundred young members of the Santo Amaro Stake turned to serving their brothers and sisters. They wrote more than a hundred letters to full-time missionaries from their stake. Sixteen of the priests teamed up with full-time missionaries for some missionary work. And others went to the homes of 120 young people who had not been taking part in Church activities, inviting them to join with them in the youth conference. Several accepted the invitation to hear Elder Helio da Rocha Camargo of the Second Quorum of the Seventy speak at the fireside that evening. Some took part in activities the next day.
On Monday, the youth turned their efforts to the community—specifically, to Guarapiranga Park, a large park within the stake boundaries. Painting roadside curbs, picnic tables, and fences, the group drew attention from many of the thousands of people who were at the park. Some of those who noticed the group joined them for a picnic lunch and found out more about the Church. The park administrators said they had never seen such an act of service, and city officials expressed their gratitude for all the youth had accomplished.
“Although people in general are cheerful, they don’t realized what true happiness is all about. Happiness is not something you receive, but something you give.”
Simone, Jabaquara Ward
But hearts were touched most deeply when the two hundred young people visited the state orphanage on Tuesday. With them they took the goods they had collected during the previous weeks. But they also took gifts the children needed even more: love and attention. Visiting with the four hundred orphans—from newborn to age six—they changed diapers, told stories, and sang Primary songs. They took children to the playground and simply talked with them. When the time came to leave, there were many tears. With hearts overflowing, the youth of the Santo Amaro Stake found that even a three-hour-long testimony meeting was just too short to express their feelings. They had served, they had loved, they had felt joy. And they wanted to have this kind of youth conference every year.

In Mendoza, Argentina, we attended a seminary graduation. In the class was a young man who had great difficulty climbing ordinary steps. As the class marched in, two strong young classmates gracefully lifted him up the steps. We watched during and after the proceedings, and it became apparent that the whole class was afflicted with a marvelous kind of blindness. They could not see that he was different. They saw a classmate, a friend. In them the works of God were being manifest. While there was no physical transformation in the boy or in his classmates, they were serving like angels, soothing a spirit locked in a deformed body awaiting that time when it would be everlastingly made perfect.

In the past I have not always been able to say or show my thanks as I have really wanted to. Some years ago, almost every morning I found myself arriving in the parking lot of a certain institution at the same time as another individual. It was early in the morning, usually very dark and very quiet. Most of the time we were alone as we walked from our vehicles into the building. This individual was one of the finest persons I have ever known. I looked up to him. I admired him, I loved him. Yet I had never told him so. Each time we entered the building and climbed onto the elevator together, I found myself tongue-tied. I could hardly stammer “Good morning,” much less, “Oh, how I admire you” or “Thank you for all you have done and are doing for me.” After one of these mornings, I arrived in my office, disgusted with my inability to express my appreciation. In desperation, with a great desire to just say thank you, I took a pen in hand, and in longhand wrote a short note that expressed my feelings. Hurriedly I addressed an envelope and quickly mailed the note before my courage failed me. A very few days later I received a very sweet, short, three-sentence note. I could tell he had personally typed it out on the old typewriter he kept by his desk. It read:

Dear Dee,
That was one of the sweetest notes I have ever received, and I appreciate hearing from you. I am indeed grateful to be so close to you, and I hope that we may see each other once in a while. May the Lord bless you and assist you in all your efforts. With kindest wishes.
Faithfully yours,

While I had known this individual and worked closely with him for a long time, this was really the beginning of a choice and wonderful friendship with this special person—President Spencer W. Kimball. Oh, how President Kimball blessed my life because I took the time and had the courage to say thank you.

Don’t run too far ahead!” Dad called. “It’s getting dark, and I don’t want you to fall.”
Vincent stopped and turned around. “But you’re walking so slowly. I want to get to the festival before all the mooncakes are gone!”
“They won’t run out of mooncakes,” Dad said as he and Mom caught up. “At least, not until you get there!”
Vincent could hear drums beating as they got close to the park. Strings of colorful lanterns hung from the trees, lighting up the dark night. Families were eating on blankets, getting ready to watch the full moon together.
Mom found an empty spot on the grass and laid down their blanket. She handed Vincent some coins to buy food.
“Thanks!” Vincent couldn’t wait to go exploring. He counted his coins as he walked. Twenty ringgits! That was enough for a mooncake. But which kind did he want? Ham? Egg yolk? Durian? Finally he picked one full of black sesame paste. He wandered from stall to stall as he ate, staring at all the different foods. Stacks of chicken on skewers. Giant pots of spicy broth and noodles. Maybe he could use the last of his coins to buy shaved ice with ice cream!
Pretty soon he’d wandered into an area that didn’t have as many lanterns. The darkness gave him an idea.
I wonder how far I could walk with my eyes closed? He shut his eyes and took a step. Then another. Then his foot caught on something. He was falling!
Ouch! His chin hit something sharp. It was a big metal drain cover! He reached up and touched his chin. He was bleeding.
“Dad? Mom?” he called out. He hurried back toward the lanterns, and someone helped him find his parents.
“We were getting worried!” Mom said. Then she saw his face. “We need to go to the hospital.”
Pretty soon Vincent was sitting with Mom and Dad in the hospital waiting room. He was so scared. Was he going to be OK?
He folded his arms tight and thought about Jesus. He and his family had been baptized a few months ago. The missionaries had said that Jesus could help him feel comfort.
Jesus Christ will help me. Jesus Christ will help me, he thought over and over again. And soon he did feel a little calmer. He knew the Holy Ghost was with him.
Dad squeezed his hand.
“Everything will be OK,” Mom said.
Vincent nodded. He knew she was right.
When the doctor came, she stitched up his chin. It hurt, but not too much. She told Vincent that he would probably have a scar. But that was fine with him. Whenever he saw it, he would remember mooncakes, the festival, and a time he felt comforted by Jesus and the Holy Ghost.
This story took place in Malaysia. Go to page 14 to learn more about this country!

Lately I have been thinking of a time in my life when the weight of worry and concern over an uncertain future seemed ever present. I was 11 years old and living with my family in the attic of a farmhouse near Frankfurt, Germany. We were refugees for the second time in a period of only a few years, and we were struggling to establish ourselves in a new place far away from our previous home. I could say that we were poor, but that would be an understatement. We all slept in one room that was so tiny there was scarcely space to walk around the beds. In the other small room, we had a few pieces of modest furniture and a stove that Mother used to cook meals on. To get from one room to the other, we had to pass through a storage area where the farmer kept his equipment and tools, along with assorted meats and sausages hanging from the rafters. The aroma always made me very hungry. We had no bathroom, but we did have an outhouse—down the stairs and some 50 feet (15 m) away, though it seemed much farther during wintertime.
Because I was a refugee and because of my East German accent, other children often made fun of me and called me names that deeply hurt. Of all the times of my youth, I believe this may have been the most discouraging.
Now, decades later, I can look back on those days through the softening filter of experience. Even though I still remember the hurt and despair, I can see now what I was unable to see then: this was a period of great personal growth. During this time, our family bonded together. I watched and learned from my parents. I admired their determination and optimism. From them I learned that adversity, when confronted with faith, courage, and tenacity, could be overcome.
Brethren, I think back on that 11-year-old boy in Frankfurt, Germany, who worried about his future and felt the lasting sting of unkind remarks. I remember this time with a sort of sad fondness. While I would not be eager to relive those days of trial and trouble, I have little doubt that the lessons I learned were a necessary preparation for future opportunity. Now, many years later, I know this for a certainty: it is often in the trial of adversity that we learn those most critical lessons that form our character and shape our destiny.

There is a man I hope someday to meet—a brother of yours and mine in the kingdom. He lives somewhere behind the Iron Curtain. Another man, a priesthood leader behind the Iron Curtain, was told that there was such a man, who had not seen another member of the Church for many years. This good brother, moved by the Spirit, saved his money (which he didn’t have much of), made his way through the red tape of crossing borders, and found this brother of yours and mine; he learned that he who was found had not seen another member of the Church for over twenty years. And when the man who was the finder indicated that it was possible, because he had been so authorized, to give this brother a patriarchal blessing, this good brother demurred momentarily until he got the tithing which he had saved for over twenty years and gave it to this other man so that he would be fully worthy of that blessing!

I don’t know what the divine design is in the challenge of that kind of solitude. I know that this man, our brother, is meeting that challenge. Some of us will have to be most courageous, not when we’re alone, but when we’re in a crowd. Whatever the form the test takes, we must be willing to pass it. We must reach breaking points without breaking. We must be willing, if necessary, to give up our lives—not because we have a disdain for life as some do, but even though we love life—because we are the servants of him who did that in such an infinite way for all of us.

Sister Soares: My father and the rest of us in my home were not religious. But my dad always said prayers, every night, kneeling, and I would watch him from when I was very little. He did not teach me with words, but he taught me by action. And when I was little, I also remember that sometimes I said the name of God in vain. I did not know that I was doing something wrong, and my mother taught me that I should not speak in that way. She wasn’t religious but knew what was right and wrong. When I was nine years old, a girl in my neighborhood, who was also nine, invited me to go to Primary for the first time.
Elder Soares: You grew up in the Church without your parents in the Church and still you built your faith in the gospel, and now you have decided to dedicate your life to teaching our children that same faith.

Keith Chapman, a forward at the University of Utah, is a returned missionary from the Germany Frankfurt Mission. As he was growing up, he had always planned to go on a mission. But when the time came to submit his papers, the game plan became a little more complicated. “The NCAA started having a controversy about whether missionaries would lose eligibility or not. That was the first hesitation I ever felt about my decision to serve a mission. After praying, I decided I was going to go at any rate. The NCAA then decided that we would keep our eligibility.”
On his mission Keith learned to keep an eternal perspective on things. “Before my mission, basketball was my whole life. Now I know there are more important things like staying worthy and looking more into the eternities than just to the next game.”

My first encounter with preaching the gospel was also exciting. In a park near my office in Bogotá, I saw a multitude, and since I had some time, I went down to see what was happening. My surprise was great when I saw the missionaries with displays about the Church and with copies of the Book of Mormon. They recognized me and asked me to stand in the middle of the park with a banner saying, “Be happy; be a Mormon.” I stood for a while in that place. I was a Mormon, but at that moment I was not so happy! But I started to feel better about my ability as a missionary, losing my fear to talk with people about the Church. I let go of my own restrictions—so many “don’ts”—and realized that this is the Church of love and service, of sacrifice and blessings, of happiness and eternal life. My message to the missionaries, to the people that are investigating the Church at this time, and to the members is, “Don’t give up; continue looking for the best results in this wonderful work.”

Another person whose light greatly influenced my life was Jeff Thomason, my teammate and fellow tight end with the Eagles. The whole team loved Jeff because he earned their respect through hard work. He had a magnetic personality that made all of us want to be around him.

Jeff took his job seriously and was a professional in every way. He could handle mistakes on the field and keep his chin up better than anyone else I knew. A great example of this happened during a play at training camp. Jeff ran “22 Texas Y Out,” which required a ten-yard vertical sprint with a sharp cut to the outside. He ran a nice route, and Donovan McNabb threw a sweet pass. When Jeff reached for the ball, it jammed his left pinky finger, which caused him to drop the ball and also resulted in a boutonniere deformity. That’s when the pinky remains bent down; it’s fairly common among football players.

Andy Reid blew up. He yelled that Jeff had just run the worst route he had ever seen. It was not typical of Andy to do that. Jeff smiled through the pain and even laughed behind his face mask as he held his finger. He knew Andy really liked him, and he didn’t lose confidence over Andy’s outburst.

Jeff’s reaction caused me and the other tight end, Mike Bartrum, to crack up. Even though Andy was on fire, it was a humorous scene. We were exhausted from training camp, and anything funny was made funnier by the sheer physical and mental exhaustion we were experiencing. Jeff’s ability to smile and laugh in times of trial and even pain lifted the spirits of those around him.

My weakness as a player was in blocking. Jeff not only helped me improve my physical technique by showing me how to do it but also always encouraged me to get better. Even in the highly competitive culture of the NFL he took the time and made the effort to help his teammates.

When Michele and I would go out to dinner with Jeff and his wife, Blake, Jeff would ask me to share stories of my mission in Taiwan. He said he loved hearing those stories. We gave them a copy of The Other Side of Heaven, the movie about Elder John H. Groberg’s mission in Tonga, and he loved it. After watching it he said, “I wish I could have played at BYU and gone on a mission to Tonga!”

We gave the Thomasons a leather-bound copy of the Book of Mormon with our testimonies written to them inside the cover. Since we loved them, we wanted to share what meant most to us and what brought us peace and joy.

People will love to hear your stories. Don’t be afraid to reach out and share them. Your stories did not just happen for you; they are meant to be shared. Sharing them is a great way for you to let your light shine for others.

Jeff finished his career and went to work for a national construction company. Two years later, when the Eagles played the Atlanta Falcons in the National Football Conference Championship Game, I broke my foot at the very end of the game, which made it impossible for me to play in the Super Bowl.

Andy called Jeff and signed him out of retirement to play in the world’s biggest football game! The next two weeks were a media circus for Jeff. His story of going from construction worker to the Super Bowl was a big hit. He was on The Today Show, Good Morning America, CBS’s The Early Show, and a 60 Minutes special. He handled it all with class and humility.

The Eagles did not win Super Bowl XXXIX against the New England Patriots, but Jeff played a great game. It marked the end of our football careers together. The game is over, but we will be friends forever.

The light of friendship I felt from Jeff in challenging situations was illuminating—like a car driving at night with the headlights on high beam! I saw how important it was to be around someone who could maintain a positive outlook no matter the situation of the game, if there was a setback, or anything else. I learned it was vital to surround myself with greatness, and I invite you to do the same.

Elder Cornish told about a time he was very tired and discouraged while learning to be a doctor. He started crying and wondered if he could ever be a good doctor. Just then, one of the senior doctors asked how he was doing. Elder Cornish told him how he was feeling. The doctor said that he was proud of him and believed he would be an excellent doctor one day. The doctor believed in him even when Elder Cornish didn’t believe in himself. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ always believe in us and don’t want us to give up!

At one time or another each of us will be called to fill a position in the Church, whether as a deacons quorum president, a teachers quorum secretary, a priesthood adviser, a class teacher, a bishop. I could name more, but you get the picture. I was just 22 years of age when I was called to be the bishop of the Sixth-Seventh Ward in Salt Lake City. With 1,080 members in the ward, a great deal of effort was required to make certain that every matter which needed to be handled was taken care of and every member of the ward felt included and watched over. Although the assignment was monumental in scope, I did not let it overwhelm me. I went to work, as did others, and did all I could to serve. Each of us can do the same, regardless of the calling or assignment.
Just last year I decided to see how many residential dwellings were still standing from the period between 1950 and 1955 when I served as bishop of that same area. I drove slowly around each of the blocks that once comprised the ward. I was surprised to observe in my search that of all the houses and apartment buildings where our 1,080 members had lived, only three dwellings were still standing. At one of those houses, the grass was overgrown, the trees unpruned, and I found no one was living there. Of the other two houses remaining, one was boarded up and unoccupied, and the other housed some sort of a modest business office.
I parked my car, turned off the ignition, and just sat there for a long while. I could picture in my mind each house, each apartment building, each member who lived there. While the homes and the buildings were gone, the memories were still very vivid concerning the families who resided in each dwelling. I thought of the words of the author James Barrie, who wrote that God gave us memories that we might have June roses in the December of our lives. How grateful I was for the opportunity to serve in that assignment. Such can be the blessing of each of us if we put forth in our assignments our very best efforts.

Photographs by Kaui Wihongi
“Son, don’t do this,” his parents said. “You’re throwing your life away.”
Those aren’t the words most missionaries expect to hear—right at the airport—just as they are leaving to report to the missionary training center (MTC).
Elder Morris, from New Zealand, knows how much his parents love him. They’ve been there for him through thick and thin. They cheered him on in his rugby matches. They applauded his decision to attend law school. They raised him with love and with hope that he’d have a bright life ahead of him.
Their pleading words came from a place of love. To them, the idea of their precious son serving a two-year mission for his new faith seemed not only confusing, but also a threat to the goals he’d worked so hard to achieve.
You see, Elder Morris was a gifted athlete on his way to becoming a professional rugby player. In his schooling, things were just taking off in his legal career.
Oh, and he was thinking about getting married!
Elder Morris already had this conversation with them many times before. He responded in the only way he knew how. “I told them I loved them. I embraced them. And I shared my testimony that I knew this was what I needed to do.”
Then he bid them farewell and hopped on the airplane for the MTC in Provo, Utah, USA, to prepare for his mission to the Philippines.
At which point COVID-19 showed up and turned the world upside down.
COVID-19 had already been making headlines throughout the globe for weeks before Elder Morris showed up at the MTC. In fact, his group would be the last batch of missionaries to report to the MTC for another 16 months. Groups after him were told to stay home and wait for further instructions.
To say that things were uncertain at the MTC would be an understatement. “Many people were worried about what was going to happen,” Elder Morris says. “For me, I felt calm. I still didn’t know how things would unfold. I only knew that they would work out for the best.”
When the news came that Elder Morris would be reassigned to his home country of New Zealand, his reaction might not be what you’d expect.
He was more excited than ever!
“I realize that many missionaries hope to serve in a faraway place,” Elder Morris says. “For me, though, I always thought it would be a privilege to teach my own people in my own country. I wanted to share the gospel with New Zealand.”
“I always thought it would be a privilege to teach my own people in my own country.”
Little did he know how this would change his life—and the life of a woman who is very important to him.
Elder Morris’s grandmother (his nan) was dealing with some serious health challenges. “She was so unwell that she said she reached a point where she was ready to die. She didn’t feel she had anything left to live for.”
Before his mission, Elder Morris had a chance to start teaching the gospel to his nan. But now, he was a full-time missionary assigned to the very area where his nan lived.
“I love my nan very much,” Elder Morris says. “And I’ve seen the gospel absolutely transform her.”
His nan chose to be baptized and become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She’s the first member of Elder Morris’s direct family (besides himself) to join the Church.
Her life, Elder Morris says, is very different now. “When my nan found the gospel, she realized why she was still alive. Now she wants to live! Every morning she wakes up at 4 a.m. or 5 a.m. and sings hymns. She prays and reads her scriptures every single day. She does it because the gospel has blessed her with purpose.”
Time and time again, Elder Morris has seen the light that the gospel brings into the lives of those he teaches. He’s had the chance to teach other friends and family members. He’s seen firsthand how they improve. “The gospel of Jesus Christ gives us purpose,” Elder Morris says. “I feel so sorry for those who don’t have the gospel in their lives. They don’t know their true identity.”
On a related note, even his parents have begun to notice the changes in Elder Morris’s nan. They can now see that the gospel has blessed her life in many ways.
Elder Morris with his nan (grandmother).
Elder Morris has no doubts whatsoever that serving a mission was the right choice. He also knew at the start of his mission, when COVID-19 began to rage throughout the world, that God would still guide His work. “The work of man will be frustrated, but God’s work never will be,” he says.
Every time he has an opportunity to do so, he encourages youth to live worthy to serve a mission. For Elder Morris, no other decision would have had a greater impact on his future—especially his eternal future. “The biggest advice I would give to youth is to prepare to serve a mission. It will change your life.”
He recognizes that choosing to serve may come with sacrifice. But then again, he knows a thing or two about sacrifice, and the blessings that come from it.
Witnesses of Jesus Christ
Elder Morris: The gospel is simple, and the gospel is true. Jesus Christ is our Savior. He and our Heavenly Father are mindful of us. I testify that the Book of Mormon is amazing. It helps us to come closer to Jesus Christ and to learn the fulness of His gospel. The Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ through the Prophet Joseph Smith had to happen. Without it, we would still be lost today.
Elder Fotuaika (Elder Morris’s companion): I’ve seen in my life that, without the Lord, I’m nothing. With the Lord, I’ve seen myself grow to the best person that I could ever become. When we try to do the small and simple things like praying and reading the scriptures, God magnifies who we are. I have a testimony that God loves us.

Special education students and their buddies skate each Friday afternoon at the Bountiful Ice Rink, which is half a block from their school.

A buddy encouraged Trent to skate, and the ice immediately captivated him. As he progressed, Trent became a skating buddy to others. When one child was too timid to try, Trent said, “Come on. If I can do it, you can too.” He flashed his smile and soon had the boy gliding easily on the ice.

When I was preparing for a match the next day, I’d be tired enough so that I could usually get to sleep; but once I’d get to sleep, if I ever woke up, then my mind would start operating and I’d start mentally playing the match, and I just had no hope of further rest. In fact, many nights I’ve lain in bed before a big match and never slept. I figured I got my rest by just lying down. I’ve seen kids who were the same way. As I got older, I got a little bit better, but I was still excitable. I remember playing in the senior finals at Forest Hills. The fellow I was playing was the defending champ, and he was pretty smart. He won the toss but chose to receive, so I had to serve. When I threw the ball up, my hand was actually shaking so hard I couldn’t let go of the ball. Finally, somehow, I got control of myself and managed to play a pretty fair game.
Many times players lose points by getting what we call the “elbow,” the “steel elbow.” It’s really funny, because I don’t know whether you’re afraid to win or afraid to lose; but you get so scared you’re going to make a mistake that your elbow just won’t let you go. It happens to the greatest players; everybody gets it, to a degree, one time or another.

In California, USA, Lori Larson had her March Ensign with her at the beauty salon and was enthralled with it. She kept thinking of how the articles would be great to share with someone of another faith and how they would clear up misconceptions about the Church. Then her beautician asked about the magazine she was reading. By the time the appointment and the conversation were over, the beautician was asking for the missionaries to visit her.

“Aw, Mom, it’s just not fair!” Sarah heard Ben say as she neared the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, a wave of guilt sweeping over her. She knew what he was referring to.
“I know it isn’t, Ben,” Mother replied in a soothing tone “but you’ve got to remember that it’s not Sarah’s fault. She knows she shouldn’t be afraid of dogs, but when that little dog bit her on the lip when she was just a toddler, he left more than just a scar on her face. The scar in her mind is a deeper one.”
“I’m not blaming her, Mom,” Ben sighed. “But you know how much I’ve wanted a dog.”
Sarah silently tiptoed away from the kitchen, not wanting her mother and brother to know she’d overheard. She trudged upstairs to her bedroom and flopped on the bed. Why do I have to be such a baby? she berated herself, unconsciously tracing the scar on her lip with her finger. Ben really wants a dog, but whenever I get near one I’m scared out of my mind!
Sighing, Sarah got up and mechanically prepared for bed. After calling goodnight to everyone and saying her prayers, she climbed under the covers. But she couldn’t go to sleep.
The sudden, far-off howling of a dog broke the stillness. Sarah sat upright in bed, shivers running up her spine. I must be imagining things, she thought disgustedly. The sound’s not coming from the direction of the Johnson’s farm, and they’re the only ones with a dog around here. She lay back down and tried to make her mind a blank. Again she heard the faint but piercing cry. Thinking of Ben, tears welled up in her eyes, and she said out loud to the blackness, “But I can’t help it!” Then, burying her head under her pillow, she fell into a fitful sleep.
The next day was a busy one, for there was a lot to do on their farm. The events of the night before were forgotten until lunchtime. As everyone trooped into the kitchen, Sarah lagged behind, exulting in the freshness of the air and the stillness of the countryside when the noise of the tractor was stilled. Suddenly she heard the unmistakable barking of a dog.
“Ben, Ben!” Sarah called, running after her brother. “Did you hear that dog barking?”
Ben frowned and glared at his sister. “That’s not funny, Sarah, and I’ll thank you not to joke about it.”
“I’m not joking, Ben! I heard it last night and again just now—a dog barking and howling, but it sounds like he’s far away. Don’t you hear it?”
They both stood still for a moment. Then Ben shook his head and said, “Sorry, Sarah, but I don’t hear anything—except my stomach growling! Let’s go in and eat. Your mind must be playing tricks on you.”
Sarah tried to forget what she’d heard until that night when she lay in bed again. However, she was so exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before that she soon fell asleep.
The next morning as she climbed into the truck to go to church, Sarah thought she heard the phantom dog again. Her dad declared it must be the Johnson’s dog, but Sarah had an uneasy feeling that he was wrong. When she heard the dog again late Sunday evening, she tiptoed into her brother’s room and shook his shoulder gently.
“What is it?” Ben asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
“Ben, you’ve got to listen. I keep hearing that dog and I’m not imagining it! I’m sure it isn’t the Johnson’s dog. Please, just listen for a minute.”
After a few moments of silence, the unmistakable yowl of a dog came drifting faintly on the night air. “You’re right, Sarah!” Ben whispered excitedly. “It’s a dog in trouble, all right, and it isn’t Shep. We’d better go see if we can find it.”
“Right now?” Sarah asked. “You know we could never find anything in the dark!”
“You’re right,” Ben admitted reluctantly. “Let’s get up early and start looking as soon as it’s light. We can split up so we can cover more ground before school.”
“But Ben,” Sarah’s voice quivered a little, “can’t I go with you? What’ll I do if I find him? You know that I …”
“If you find him, you can come and get me, OK? Don’t worry. Now go back to bed and get some sleep.”
The next morning as soon as the horizon began to glow, Ben and Sarah were up and out looking for the dog. After nearly an hour they still hadn’t found anything, so they decided to try again after school. As soon as they got home that afternoon, they each grabbed a couple of cookies and headed out the door.
“You may want to take your poncho, Sarah,” Ben said, glancing up at the sky. “It looks like it might storm.”
Sarah grabbed her poncho off the nail on the back porch and headed toward the cornfields. “Why don’t you try over by the south boundary of the farm, Sarah?” Ben suggested. “Dad covered a lot of ground plowing Saturday, but he didn’t make it down that far. I’ll go the other way.”
Sarah had been looking around for about twenty minutes when she heard the mournful wail again. I’m getting close, she thought apprehensively. “Where are you?” she called, hoping the dog would bark at the sound of her voice. It did. Feeling a few drops of rain, she pulled her poncho over her head and set off in the direction of the sound, calling again as she went. The dog responded each time she called, even though she could tell from its tone that it was getting weaker with each bark.
Coming to the edge of a large irrigation canal, Sarah stopped and sharply drew in her breath at what she saw. The dog was caught in the partly flattened end of a pipe—probably crushed by a tractor, Sarah surmised. He must have gotten stuck chasing a rabbit or something. I’ve got to go get Ben so he can help get him out. Sarah turned to go, but the dog’s pleading whimper brought her back again. Rain was beginning to pelt down harder now. She looked back into the ditch and realized that if the rainwater were to swell the water level of the canal, the dog would drown. The way this storm is increasing, by the time Ben gets here it willbe too late! Sarah thought.
For a minute she panicked. “I can’t! I just can’t go near him!” she cried. Then the words seemed to enter her mind, You’ve got to, or he’ll drown! She looked again at the stricken animal and took a few faltering steps. Oh, help me! She silently prayed, then plunged headlong down the bank.
She stopped a few feet from the dog and looked at him. When the dog saw her, he whined plaintively and stared at Sarah with the most incredible look of relief and joy that Sarah had ever seen. Why, that look is almost human, Sarah thought, surprised. Impulsively, she fell to her knees and stroked the dog’s head. “You poor thing!” she murmured.
She began to tug at the dog’s shoulders in an effort to free him. The water was already beginning to collect in the canal. I’ve got to work fast, she determined. The dog was too weak to help, but he licked her hand with his tongue as she tried to lubricate the end of the pipe with a little mud and water. Days of going without food had helped to make the animal a little thinner. Before long she had him free.
“You’re going to be OK,” she said over and over as she stroked his muddy fur. Then suddenly it hit her. Why, Sarah Blackhurst, you’re petting a dog! And you’re not scared at all! The thought took her breath away. The years of fear had been forgotten in the love and pity she felt for the suffering animal.
The dog was too weak to walk, so Sarah, already muddy and wet, bundled him up in her poncho and carried him out of the gully toward home. The dog never quit looking at her, even when Ben took him out of her arms at the door to the kitchen.
“Sarah! Where did you find him? I was beginning to worry about you!” Ben cried breathlessly. “I was about to …” Suddenly Ben stopped and turned, staring into Sarah’s eyes. “Why, Sarah, you’ve been holding a dog!”
“I know,” Sarah grinned sheepishly. “I know.”
Later that evening after the dog had been fed and given a warm bath, the family sat around the fireplace talking. The dog lay curled on a blanket in front of the hearth. “You know, Sarah, I don’t think that dog’s taken his eyes off you since you found him!” Father said.
“I’ve never seen such a look of love and devotion in my whole life,” Mother commented.
“From Sarah or the dog!” Ben said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Where do you think he came from, Dad?” Sarah asked. “Do you think we can keep him?”
“Well, I think we should advertise in the paper that we’ve found him,” Dad responded, “but I doubt anyone will come for him. He’s probably a stray, abandoned in the country by somebody who wanted to get rid of him.”
“I hope we can keep him,” Sarah murmured.
“I never thought I’d ever hear you say something like that!” Ben teased. Then after a minute he said, “Hey, I thought I was supposed to be the one who got a dog!” But he winked at Sarah as he said it.