Gospel Story Finder

For two years, our group met twice a week. When missionaries, Elder Roger L. and Sister Simonne B. Dock, arrived in March 1987, 50 people were studying together.
The Docks began teaching the missionary discussions in French in the public school. Because some people spoke only Swahili, I interpreted. I heard the missionary discussions for the first time myself while interpreting.
On 9 May 1987 I was one of 80 people baptized in a pool at an abandoned copper mine. For me, baptism was an outer confirmation of an inner conversion that had taken place years earlier. I had been waiting for this sacred ordinance so I could become a member of the Church.

When the faces of two young men appeared in the upper portion of the door to our home in Colombia, we thought they were standing on something in order to see through the door. They were not; they were just very tall! Our three-year-old son, Pablo Ezequiel, looked up at them with astonishment. Within days they were his best friends.
Our family—Ludy, my wife; Erika; Yesica; and little Ezequiel—was looking for the Lord. We were living some gospel principles already: we prayed at mealtime, we prayed as a family, and we did family activities. Our lives were based on our family union. The appearance of those two “large angels,” as Ezequiel called the elders, confirmed our practices of strengthening the family and focusing on God.
Using the scriptures as their guide, Elders Fa and Fields taught us the path. We had been asking the Lord where we should worship. The Book of Mormon and the restored gospel gave the answers to each of the questions we had over the years in our family discussions. The answers fit perfectly, and we soon became members of the Church. One year later we made covenants and were sealed together as an eternal family in the Bogotá Colombia Temple.

Chioma N., age 15, of Nigeria, studied John 7 and 3 Nephi 14 as part of a desire to be more obedient. She admits that it’s difficult to “do some things I hate doing—especially tidying up the kitchen when I am tired.” But she also has a desire to “love people around her,” and obedience, she found, was one way to show that love (see John 14:15).
As Chioma studied the Savior’s teachings about obedience and read about His submission to Heavenly Father’s will, she recognized that because Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ knew that we would sin and go astray, They gave us commandments to help us stay on the strait and narrow path. She also learned that without obedience, we cannot enter into the kingdom of God.
“I learned that nobody is perfect, but with obedience, we can all strive toward perfection,” she said. “And I have learned that we should be obedient so that Heavenly Father can bless us.”
She found an opportunity to exhibit obedience at school when she was asked to sweep the classroom when it wasn’t her turn.
“I humbly obeyed as I listened to the Holy Ghost telling me to obey and sweep the classroom. My fellow students were surprised, and our teacher also. Because of this incident, people now know me as an obedient and humble girl. I felt happy throughout the week because I was obedient.”

When I was eight or nine years old, I wanted to build a derby car. There was a race coming up, so my dad helped me build a car to enter. We found some two-by-four wood planks and put one in the middle and two on each end. Then we put a little chair on it with ropes to steer. We just had a block of wood for a brake—I pushed it down with my foot, and the wood dragged on the ground. To finish the car off, I put some big, old plastic tires from a tricycle on it.
When we showed up at the race, the other kids had these really fancy derby cars. People were laughing when they saw us. But I wasn’t embarrassed, because my dad was by me. As long as he was there, I was good.
People stood all along the streets. The nice, shiny cars lined up at the start. We raced down the hill, and my car won! Then we went to the next race, and the next race, and I kept winning. A few in the crowd started chanting, “Go two-by-four!” They were cheering for me and my car. I won second place overall! I even got a trophy.
The race was really fun because my dad had helped me and let me make the car how I wanted. I had confidence because my dad was there. I knew who I was and that my dad supported me.

Jimmy tries to help his brother too. It was really hard for him the first time he saw Paul have a seizure, but now he knows what to look for and what to do if it happens. Still, he prays every day that Paul will be OK. His first words each morning are, “Where’s Paul?” He looks up to Paul and wants to go everywhere with him. Sometimes it drives Paul crazy, but he loves his brother and realizes that he needs to do what’s right because Jimmy is learning from him.

Antonella and Mariana loved going to church each week. But now they couldn’t go to church in person because of the COVID-19 pandemic. They had Primary class online, but it just wasn’t the same.
Antonella and Mariana missed going to Primary in person. A year ago, their family had moved from Chile to Canada. The pandemic made it hard to make new friends. They missed being able to learn about scripture stories with the other kids. And they missed having lessons in Spanish like they did in Chile.
One day, after having church at home, Antonella and Mariana looked online for something to help them study Come, Follow Me.
“I wish we could find more videos in Spanish,” Antonella said. She thought for a moment. Then she had a great idea. “We could make our own videos for Come, Follow Me every week.”
“Yeah, and we could do them in Spanish!” said Mariana. “Then we could share them with other kids too.”
Mamá and Papá said they could help. The whole family was excited!
First the family read the scriptures for the week’s lesson. The girls planned what they would talk about. Then they started to make the videos. Antonella and Mariana took turns recording themselves as they talked about stories in the Book of Mormon. At the end of each video, one of them shared something they learned from the lesson. Then Mamá and Papá helped them make the video to post online.
At first, they didn’t always know what to say. But reading the scriptures and learning more about the lessons helped them.
One Sunday, Antonella and Mariana sat in front of the computer for their Primary class. This week’s lesson was about the stripling warriors in the Book of Mormon. “Why did the stripling warriors go to fight?” their teacher asked.
Mariana unmuted their microphone. “I know!” she said. She and Antonella had made a video about that story last week. “Their fathers promised God that they wouldn’t fight, so the sons went instead.”
Antonella nodded. “And their mothers taught them that if they had faith, God would keep them safe.” She smiled at Mariana. It was fun to study the scriptures together.
That night at dinner, Mamá asked, “How was Primary?”
“Good!” Antonella said. “Making the videos has helped me learn a lot more about the scriptures.”
“Me too!” said Mariana. “I can answer a lot of the questions in Primary. And we know the scripture stories better.”
“I’m glad the videos have helped you,” said Papá. “I think they’ve helped a lot of other people too!”
“That’s right,” said Mamá. “Sharing what you’ve learned and how you feel about the gospel is a great way to serve!”
Mariana smiled. “I like that we can serve this way,” she said. Then she turned to Antonella. “Let’s start planning next week’s video!”
This story took place in Canada.

When I turned 17, all my friends were gone. They had moved far away, were serving missions, or had just stopped being my friend. Even though I had my family, I still felt alone. I felt I had no support outside of my home, and I couldn’t fit in with others even when I tried.
One day the new missionaries assigned to our ward showed up at our house to introduce themselves. They asked how they could help us. I didn’t care about what they were saying because I was thinking only about how sad and lonely I was. Then the missionaries said they would love my help in teaching some of their lessons. I was surprised! Why would they ask for help from someone who clearly wasn’t in the best emotional state?
I agreed anyway, and I went to some lessons with them. The missionaries not only helped the people they were teaching but were also a good influence on me.
When one of the elders was transferred, I realized my life had been getting better since I started spending time with the missionaries. I had a lot in common with the next elder who came to the area, and I continued to spend time with the missionaries. They encouraged, taught, and supported me. They helped me feel better on difficult days. Despite the language barrier and their busy schedules, the missionaries made an effort to help me. The missionaries helped me realize that I was not alone. Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, were watching over me and helping me through others.
When that new elder left, I thanked him for being an instrument in the hands of the Lord to rescue me. I am grateful he came to that particular mission because he was a blessing to me.
Before this time, I had almost no desire to serve a mission, but as I watched these missionaries, my desire to serve grew. I will leave for my mission soon, and I hope to give my all to the Lord as those missionaries did.

I used to have nightmares every night after hearing a scary story at Scout camp. I was very scared—it was hard to go to sleep. I prayed every night for Heavenly Father to help me, but I still had nightmares. Then one night I told my dad. I was shaking a little when I told him because it scared me to talk about it. We said a prayer together. Dad suggested I sing a Church hymn to myself, because I share a room with my brother. My favorite hymn is “There Is a Green Hill Far Away” (Hymns, no. 194). Every night after that I wasn’t scared, and I stopped having nightmares. In my personal prayers every night I ask Heavenly Father to continue helping me with my fears, and I still sing my favorite hymn to myself every night.

I’ve always felt pretty alone in the world. My parents got divorced when I was a baby, and then a few years later my mom remarried and we moved 4,000 miles, from Georgia, USA, to Oregon, USA. It was a huge change for a nine-year-old girl to handle, especially one with a southern accent who wasn’t fully accepted by the other kids.
When I moved up to middle school, though, I met Nicole.* Right away, I felt a positive, peaceful vibe about her—something I’d been missing. I knew I had to be friends with this girl!
As we hung out more, Nicole became a safe place away from my loneliness. Walking into her home was like walking into a completely different life: the Spirit of God filled every corner. There were pictures of the Savior and of giant structures everywhere. (I later learned these were temples.) Nicole’s missionary work began by just inviting me over, and she didn’t even know it.
Nicole ministered to me by just being my friend. She gave me the Book of Mormon, and we started reading together in her car after school.
The Book of Mormon started to fill the holes in my life. But I still felt alone. I wasn’t a member of Nicole’s church, but I also wasn’t completely part of my parents’ religion, either.
Nicole kindly prompted me to pray and ask God if the Book of Mormon is true. I had never prayed out loud, so I had no idea what I was supposed to say. But I just went outside and started talking. I asked God if Nicole’s church was the right church for me too. As soon as I finished my question, I felt chills through my whole body. I knew, somehow without a doubt, that the Book of Mormon is true and this Church was right for me.
I was 15 when I received this witness. For the next few years I believed, though my parents were not interested in the Church. But I wasn’t alone in my faith, because Nicole was still there supporting me.
After I graduated high school, I moved out to Utah, USA. Nicole was already there, and she was anxiously waiting for me to get there so I could start taking the missionary lessons. I had a plan to be baptized on my 19th birthday—just six weeks away—and Nicole assured me she would be right there with me the whole time.
When the missionaries began to teach me, I soon realized how little I really knew about the Church. I had read and loved the Book of Mormon, but suddenly they were telling me about the gift of the Holy Ghost, the plan of salvation, becoming like God, and so many other new things. It was too much to digest all at once.
But Nicole knew me well. She would help explain what the elders were teaching in a way she knew I’d understand. In those first lessons, her patient explanations were the reason I stayed.
Nicole spiritually supported me like that until the day I was baptized—and after. She helped the ward members and missionaries plan so I could be baptized on my 19th birthday. When I came out of the water and saw dozens of people beaming at me, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. I will never forget that feeling of finally belonging to the Lord and His Church.
I still learn from Nicole’s consistent faith and friendship. She showed me from the start that missionary work doesn’t require a name tag. Nicole’s missionary work began in her heart, when she reached out to a southern girl who needed a smile.

Kirsten, our second child, was born about 30 years ago after a difficult pregnancy. Immediately after her birth the doctors discovered a serious cardiac defect. Kirsten was quickly transferred to the intensive care unit of the children’s hospital. Laying his hands on her tiny body in the incubator, my husband gave her the first priesthood blessing of her life—a welcome gift for her arrival on this earth.
During the following days I often stood in front of the glass window looking into intensive care and watched as this little girl struggled for her life. We were not even allowed to touch her, and we did not know what to wish for her.
When I was discharged from the hospital without my baby, my husband and I had the desire to go to the temple. We could do nothing physically for our little Kirsten. We had to trust the Lord and the physicians. At that time the nearest temple was in Switzerland, far from our home in Hamburg, but we felt we had to gather strength there for the unknown future. We applied all of our faith in behalf of our daughter.
In the meantime the doctors diagnosed a rare cardiac defect they were not able to operate on at that time. The life expectancy of patients with this condition was very limited. But five weeks later we were able to take our little Kirsten home. While her body may have been suffering, her spirit was cheerful and willing to learn, and we could tell that she enjoyed living in our family and loved her older brother very much.
When Kirsten was four her condition deteriorated, and she became weaker and weaker. After praying, fasting, and visiting the temple, we decided upon surgery in a cardiac center in Munich, where doctors had recently repaired a complicated condition like Kirsten’s. Doctors actually had to change everything in the heart—make the ventricles smaller, close holes, and repair both valves. It was a genuine work of art. We were very worried about Kirsten, and our whole ward joined us in praying for her.
The doctors operated on Kirsten on May 21, 1980, and when she had gotten over the worst and was transferred from intensive care to another unit, we were full of confidence. Then a terrible thing happened. A tiny blood clot loosened from a repaired heart valve, settled in the brain, and within a few minutes caused a complete paralysis of her right side and a loss of speech. Kirsten’s eyes were full of fear and sadness. This was very difficult for us. I still see my husband and me standing in a phone booth in Munich, desperately calling our bishop. Within the next few days we received comforting letters from many ward members. Fasting also gave us renewed strength to encourage Kirsten and accept this affliction.
The following years were filled with therapies, and we rejoiced in every little bit of progress. When it was time for Kirsten to start school, her health was sufficient for her to attend a regular elementary school. She developed fabulous coping strategies with her left, usable hand. Her right leg became stronger, and she learned how to swim, bike, and ride horses. She rejoiced in her life. If a child laughed at her somewhat peculiar walk, I simply showed him or her pictures of Kirsten’s life, and the laughter turned into admiration.
Kirsten received much love from her grandparents and other relatives, and the ward fellowshipped her. In turn, she showed her joy in the gospel to everyone she met and has been the one in our family who has brought the most friends into the Church.
After graduating from high school Kirsten diligently completed training to be an industry saleswoman and also obtained her driver’s license. With her slightly converted car she could be more self-reliant, and she was able to participate in young single adult conferences and fulfill stake callings. In 1999 she took a year off to serve a Church-service mission in the Frankfurt temple.
Kirsten loves children and finds a special closeness to them. Her niece, nephew, and Primary children love her very much. She is an example for us, showing that one does not have to become bitter because of severe adversity, but that one can radiate cheerfulness.
In 2003 a very loving young man came into Kirsten’s life and became more and more important to her. He is a returned missionary who grew up in a faithful Latter-day Saint family. In August 2004 he and Kirsten were sealed in the Frankfurt temple. They are now mastering life’s challenges together.
Two of our children have physical impairments. You do not wish it, but if it happens, you have to accept it wholeheartedly, learn, and fight through the difficulties. You develop a keen ear for the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Our Father in Heaven knows which afflictions we need here on earth if we are to grow. I have often comforted my children with the words, “You will have these physical impairments only while you live on this earth, and mortality is very short compared to eternity.”

Emma Ray wasn’t sure when David would return. She and her cousin Belle were at a family reunion on an island in the Great Salt Lake.
Belle: Emma Ray, have you heard? David McKay arrives home tonight.
Emma Ray: I should meet him at the train station!
Belle: The boat won’t come back for us in time.
Emma Ray and her cousin Belle rigged a sail on an old rowboat and took turns rowing.
When David stepped off the train, Emma Ray was there.
Emma Ray: Welcome home, Elder McKay.
David: It’s so good to see you!

On my first visit to the fabled village of Sauniatu in Samoa, so loved by President McKay, my wife and I met with a large gathering of small children. At the end of our messages to these shy, beautiful youngsters, I suggested to the native Samoan teacher that we go ahead with the closing exercises. As he announced the final hymn, I suddenly felt compelled to greet personally each of the 247 children. But the time was too short for such a privilege, so I ignored the impression. Before the benediction, however, I again felt this strong impression to shake the hand of each child. I told the teacher that I wanted to shake the hand of each child. He displayed a broad Samoan smile before relaying my intentions in Samoan to the children. They all beamed when they heard his translation.
The teacher then told me the special reason for their joy. He said, “When we learned that President McKay had assigned a member of the Quorum of the Twelve to visit us in faraway Samoa, I told the children that if each one would earnestly and sincerely pray and exert faith like in the Bible accounts of old, the Apostle would visit our tiny village at Sauniatu, and through their faith, he would be impressed to greet each child with a personal handclasp.” Tears flowed as each of those precious boys and girls walked by and whispered softly to us a sweet talofa lava (hello). The gift of faith had been evidenced.

After some time, my family moved from Maryland to Utah, where we lived on a farm in North Logan. We had some horses, some cows, some pigs, some chickens, two dogs, a few cats, and we even had a pet pig. Though it became necessary to sell the cows, my father kept one milk cow.
Each morning before school, I helped my older brother, Lou, milk the family cow. One morning, my brother was sick and I had to milk the cow alone. I was just eight years old at the time. I took the bucket and stool and went into the field. This was the first time I had ever had to milk the cow by myself. I set up my stool and bucket and started to milk. She kicked the bucket and walked away.
I picked up the bucket and stool, walked over to her, and again started to milk. Again, she kicked the bucket and walked away. I had to milk the cow before I went to school, so I picked up my stool and bucket and walked over to her and started to milk. A third time, she kicked the bucket and walked away.
I needed help! I knelt down in the morning sunlight and began to pray. I explained to Heavenly Father, “I can’t do this by myself. Please, please help me!” Without any hesitation, I picked up the bucket and my stool and walked over to the cow and began to milk. She did not move. She stood still until I finished milking. I quickly carried the bucket to the house, gave it to my mother, and was able to run to school and arrive on time, knowing that Heavenly Father had answered my prayer.

When I was a deacon, the ominous signs of the Great Depression began to appear. Tens of thousands lost their jobs. Money was scarce. Families had to do without.
My parents were hardworking. They made every penny stretch as far as possible. That was probably the major reason everything they gave me was always two or three sizes too large.
I was 12 years old when I received my first pair of ice skates, so large that I had to stuff a third of the toe space with cotton.
When I took them out of the box, I looked up and said, “Mother, I can’t skate with these.”
“Be grateful for what you have, Joseph,” she’d say. And then, the phrase I had become so accustomed to hearing, “Don’t worry; you’ll grow into them.”
A year later, what I wanted more than anything else was football shoulder pads and a helmet. On Christmas morning, I opened my packages and there they were, shoulder pads and a helmet, except they were sized to fit Goliath—who, by the way, was six cubits or about nine feet tall.
“Mother, they’re too big,” I said.
“Be grateful for what you have, Joseph,” she said again. “Don’t worry; you’ll grow into them.”
I think back on those days with some tenderness. Curiously enough, I also look back with tenderness to my dear mother’s encouraging words, “Don’t worry, Joseph; you’ll grow into them.”
In a similar way, we all need to learn how to “grow into” our responsibilities. The Lord has His eye upon you. He loves you. He knows you. He knows your triumphs and your trials, your successes and your heartaches.
He knows that at times you may look at the challenges you may face and may think they’re too big to handle. He is, however, willing and ready to help you as you grow into the men and women you are to become.
I would like to share with you five principles that, if lived and incorporated into your lives while you are young, will assure happiness and peace throughout your lives, no matter what trials and temptations come your way.
It is essential that you know and understand that our Heavenly Father loves you like a son or daughter, because He is the Father of your spirit. That makes you His literal child, spiritually begotten of Him.
As such, you have inherited the potential to become like Him. His greatest desire is that you grow in this life line upon line, becoming more like Him so that one day you can return to His presence.
God’s love is complete and without limit for you and for all mankind (see John 3:16). He is perfectly just and merciful. He is perfectly kind and understands your circumstances and condition. He knows you better than you know yourself.
God’s commandments are not given to limit or punish us. They are exercises that create character and sanctify souls. If we disregard them, we become spiritually flabby and weak and without defense. If we keep them, we can become spiritual giants, strong and bold in righteousness.
Day-to-day obedience to God’s commandments is indispensable.
We can come unto Christ as we learn to love Him and as we study the scriptures diligently. How do we show our love for the Savior? He gave us the answer: “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15).
Every one of you can read something in the scriptures each day. You should spend some time pondering and studying the scriptures. It is better to read and ponder even one verse than none at all. I challenge each of you to read something in the scriptures every day for the rest of your lives. Few things you do will bring you greater dividends.
Learn of your Savior. Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane more than you can comprehend. He suffered similarly on the cross, where He gave His life to pay the penalty for our sins if we will repent. And then in His ultimate triumph, He was resurrected and broke the bands of death, making the Resurrection available to all.
The more you understand the Atonement and what it means, the less likely you will be to fall prey to temptations of the adversary. No other doctrine will bring greater results in improving behavior and strengthening character than the doctrine of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It is central to God’s plan and is preeminent in the restored gospel.
The gift of the Holy Ghost is one of the most precious gifts you can receive in mortality. The principal mission of the Holy Ghost is to testify of our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ. If you are careful in keeping the commandments, the Holy Ghost will help you learn more about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
The promptings of the Holy Ghost may come to you in a still, small voice. You cannot grow spiritually unless you first rise above the things of the world that clamor for your attention. Some of the world’s music is degrading, vulgar, and inappropriate and will drown out the promptings of the Holy Ghost. Avoid objectionable television shows and movies, evil Internet sites, and all forms of entertainment that portray or encourage immorality and violence. Shun pornography like a deadly, contagious sin and disease. Bringing into your body substances forbidden by the Lord in the Word of Wisdom will prevent you from feeling and recognizing the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
Since my youth, I have always been impressed by the fact that our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, would answer the heartfelt prayers of a 14-year-old boy who was searching for the truth. Just as He answered Joseph Smith’s prayer, our Heavenly Father will answer your prayers in His own time and in His own way.
The more I know of the Prophet Joseph, the more I love him, the more I yearn to follow his example, the more I appreciate what our Father in Heaven and His Son have done in restoring this gospel that is destined to fill the earth in these, the latter days.
President Gordon B. Hinckley is the successor and guardian of those priesthood keys that were first restored to the Prophet Joseph Smith. In mortality, only one man at a time holds and exercises all of the priesthood keys; today that man is President Gordon B. Hinckley.
Follow the teachings of our modern-day prophet. He is inspired of the Lord to teach us those things that are necessary for us to live happily and righteously.
You are a chosen generation. You have been raised up by the Lord to carry His Church and kingdom into the 21st century. You have been chosen by the Lord to come forth on the earth when wickedness and evil are very powerful. But you are up to the challenge.
That does not mean you will not face your share of heartaches, challenges, and trials. Since the days when I first stuffed cotton into my ice skates and put on oversized shoulder pads and helmet, my life has been filled with experiences and challenges that seemed at the time too big for me.
But every day I try to put Heavenly Father first in my life, I try to come unto Christ and follow Him as my Savior and Redeemer, I nurture the companionship of the Holy Ghost, love and revere the Prophet Joseph, and listen to and follow God’s prophet today. As I do those things, I am confident the Lord will bless me.
Even after all these years, I can still hear the voice of my mother: “Be grateful for what you have, Joseph. Don’t worry; you’ll grow into it.”
It is my prayer that we may all grow as our Heavenly Father wants us to.

As a young convert I sometimes felt uneasy with the members of my branch, and I had questions that went unanswered. But by reading and discussing articles in Le Liahona (French) with members of my branch, I got to know the members better. And I found answers to my questions through the magazine’s messages. I am truly grateful to Heavenly Father for inspiring me with the desire to study Le Liahona. I am happy to be a member of the Church and to read the testimonies of other members throughout the world.
Sandrine Hantala,Le Mans Branch, Tours France District

“Our Area Presidency has challenged us to read the Book of Mormon before stake conference. Will you try?” my dad asked me. “I’ll try,” I said reluctantly. I was reluctant because I had recently been in a bicycle accident, where I had received a fairly serious concussion. I remember the exact date of my accident—July 27, 1993—because it was my younger brother Brent’s 12th birthday.
The morning of Brent’s birthday, I realized I still did not have a present for him, so I decided to ride my bicycle to a store to find something. The store was about a mile away, and getting there required that I ride along a busy state highway. Thinking I would be safer, I rode on a seldom-used sidewalk that runs by some condominiums not far from my home. Toward the bottom of the hill, the sidewalk becomes uneven and is covered with sand, dirt, and plants. The sidewalk was not easily seen from either the highway or the condos. I headed down the hill, picking up speed as I went. But my trip didn’t take me where I had planned to go. I ended up in the hospital instead.
To this day, I have no memory of what happened. All I know is that I was in pain. I had more than 40 stitches over one eye and on my chin, and I had bandages over other cuts and scrapes. I later learned that two teenage boys had found me. They had contacted a neighbor, who had called my mom and the paramedics.
Five days later, I was still delirious. While I was in the hospital and at home, many loving people in our ward visited me and brought me gifts—although I can’t remember most of it.
Later, my parents had a speech pathologist test me. The tests showed moderate to severe impairment of my ability to retrieve general information, organize thoughts, and speak intelligently. My “mental age” had dropped. Although I was nearly 15 years old, I was performing at the level of a 12-year-old. One of the most frustrating problems was that I couldn’t read. I could see the words, but my mind couldn’t process them. It was almost as if I had forgotten how to read. So my dad’s challenge to read the Book of Mormon within a two-month period would be an immense difficulty.
That night, I knelt by my bed to pray to Heavenly Father. During my prayer, I felt strongly that if Heavenly Father wanted me to read the Book of Mormon, he would help me. After the prayer, I got up, sat in bed, and opened the Book of Mormon to the first page. I slowly looked at the words in front of me and began, “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents. …” I was reading! I could actually understand the words! Part of me was totally amazed and excited. Yet part of me wasn’t surprised at all. Somehow I had a complete assurance that I would be able to read the Book of Mormon if it were the Lord’s will.
After only one month, I finished that great book of scripture. The Lord and the Book of Mormon had taught me how to read again. More important, my faith in Heavenly Father increased, as did my testimony of prayer and the scriptures.
I’m grateful that my dad challenged me to read the Book of Mormon. Because of that challenge, I was able to understand that Heavenly Father can bless us in our trials. I’m also grateful for miracles—not only for the miraculous coming forth of the Book of Mormon, or for the miraculous Restoration of the gospel, but for miracles that continue to happen today to people like me.

Jean and I were once your age. We started college and had the same questions you do: What classes to take, What to major in, Who to date and eventually marry, What about a mission, a job, etc. While your path will be unique to you, the truths we have learned along the way can help you see the most important things.

When I was a student in college the Korean War was still going on and young men were being drafted into the military, so there was a real question of whether I could go on a mission or not. Fortunately the war wound down and I was able to go. As a freshman, I met Jean Sabin from California, on a blind date set up by our sisters. We dated some but when I left on my mission the only agreement we had was that we would write to each other and see how we felt when I returned.

My mission to Tonga was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I loved every thing about it. It was right for me, just as everyone’s mission is, or will be right for him or her. What a joy to know that you are called by a prophet of God to serve where you can best help build His Kingdom.

How I loved helping people come unto Christ and be baptized — and still do. How I loved feeling that I was helping to build God’s Kingdom — and still do.

I loved receiving letters from Jean, but I was so engrossed in my mission that I didn’t think much about “the next step.”

Towards the end of my mission we got caught in a bad storm at sea, our boat was capsized and we were thrown into the ocean. I struggled to get to shore, but was having difficulty. In the midst of this turmoil I was blessed with the assurance that God knew who I was and where I was and what I needed to do next.

At one desperate point I felt Jean’s hand, heard her voice and felt her presence. Thus I was given strength to make it to shore and also to know what I should do when I got home. Sometimes it is in the midst of incredible turmoil that we are able to see so clearly that other concerns just fade away.

I testify that as we sincerely strive to build and strengthen the Kingdom of God, He will always help us see “the next step.”

When I returned from my mission and reconnected with Jean, we both knew it was right and were married in the Los Angeles Temple. Of course we still had many other decisions to make: schooling, a job, a place to live, starting a family — I’m sure you can relate.

I went on with my schooling, our first daughter was born and eventually we returned to my hometown of Idaho Falls just before our second daughter was born and I began my “career” in Real Estate. A year later I was called to serve as bishop of our ward. What a blessing to have a supportive wife! After serving as bishop for 4 ½ years I was called to be the mission president in Tonga. Our fifth daughter was born a few weeks before we left for Tonga.

The Lord took us step by step and eventually we ended up serving as a General Authority and were assigned to live here in Hawaii for the first two years of my call (during which time our eleventh and last child was born).

In all we tried to do, we had as our primary goal: To do what God wanted us to do to help build His Kingdom in the way He wanted us to. We made mistakes, as we all do, but we continued to try.

As we now enter the last part of our mortal sojourn, we know with deeper conviction than ever, that building the Kingdom of God, largely through our family, is not only our greatest duty, but also our greatest source of joy.

When I became a priest in the Windsor Ward, London Ontario Stake, our Young Men’s president, Brother Sandor, encouraged us to pass the sacrament and perform baptisms as a way to exercise our priesthood. In one Sunday lesson, he also taught us about giving blessings. He said, “You must be bold enough to say what the Spirit prompts you to say, but be humble enough not to make up your own words!”
Not long after that lesson, a young convert in our ward was sustained as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, and Brother Sandor asked me to be the “voice” in the ordination. I was scared. I had never laid my hands on anybody’s head before, and I felt so inadequate. But then the Spirit reassured me that it would be fine for me to do it, and I was reminded of what my Young Men’s president had taught us.
The young man to be ordained sat down in the chair, and I stood directly behind him. When we were all ready Brother Sandor guided me through the ordinance prayer and I repeated every word he said. After we had finished the ordination and said, “… and we wish to pronounce a blessing on your head at this time …” Brother Sandor looked at me and indicated that I was on my own.
At that point, the priesthood entirely changed its meaning for me. It was no longer just a title, but the actual authority to act in God’s name, and I was giving that authority to someone else. I paused and waited for the Spirit to whisper to me what I was to say. It is difficult for me to describe the feelings I had that day during the blessing, but I can say that I now have a stronger testimony that the power of the priesthood is real.

On 26 October 1964 the city of Kingston, Jamaica, officially recorded the birth of twins. This was the beginning for me. I never knew my parents. I was raised by my grandmother. The first home I knew was a one-room wooden shack in the ghetto.
While growing up in the severe poverty of the ghetto, I realized how hard my grandmother worked for us. She would rise at five o’clock every morning from the tattered old bed she shared with five other family members. After waking us kids, she would take us to search for bricks. With the bricks we collected, Grandma built an oven to bake bread that would be sold to neighbors. Grandma struggled every day, yet she always had a smile on her face and seemed happy.
We didn’t have running water in our shack that combined with many others to form a compound. There was one main pipe. Everyone caught their water there in buckets. We had to take the water on our heads to our homes. The water pipe was surrounded by a green, muddy area; the children used it for a playground. Ghetto children didn’t always wear clothes. Usually they were just covered with mud and dirt. The toilets and bath places were placed in the center of the compound so everyone could use them.
Low self-esteem and lack of money in the neighborhood caused many there to turn to immorality as an escape. This led to higher population and congestion in the ghetto. Most people didn’t work; they depended on the government for food. To obtain nice clothes and other material possessions they would often steal.
My best friend was born outside in the streets. Her mother was only fourteen years old at the time. Following in her mother’s footsteps, my friend had her first child at the age of thirteen, making her mother a grandmother at age twenty-seven. She had her third child by the age of nineteen. After leaving her third boyfriend, she moved in with her mother, adding her three children to her mother’s six. My friend had the responsibility for nine children under the age of seven before she reached her twentieth birthday. As I looked at my friend’s life, I realized that I wanted something better for myself. I wanted a home and a family. I knew I had to leave the ghetto.
My grandma had taught me to pray at night before going to bed. But to whom was I praying? What was he like? Where did he come from? These were questions that couldn’t be answered. I felt as if I were in a dark and dreary world with no hope of light.
Determined to understand more about this mystery, I started attending the church to which we then belonged, because Grandma said God could be found there. But it didn’t do much good. It confused me more. They taught me about Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost, who, I was told, belonged to and were one with God.
I visited many other churches. When we studied the Bible and the life of Christ, I felt a very different feeling.
I discovered that this feeling had something to do with Christ, the Bible, the Holy Ghost, and God, but I was still confused. I started to pray and have trust in the Lord. Still, there was something missing. Although I could have the good feeling while reading the Bible, I couldn’t have that feeling with me all the time.
One teacher told me a way to retain this feeling was by being baptized, so I was baptized. But nothing changed. All churches seemed the same, so I decided to stay home and study on my own. I found myself praying more intensely for the Lord to help me find the true path that led to him. He heard my prayers.
I met a young man, and we became friends. For the next ten months we shared our ideas and thoughts about many things, but never religion. One day I found that my friend traveled with a Bible, so I asked him if he went to church and what the name of his church was. It was some long name—The Church of Jesus Christ of something something Saints. I wasn’t the least bit interested—it sounded like just another church to me.
My friend later told me he was going to serve the Lord for two years in another country. I figured he was going to be a pastor. When he left, I began to wonder what his church was like, and I began to search for their meeting place.
I found it a few months later, but I also found something more. As I walked through the doors of the meetinghouse, I felt a feeling impossible to describe; it was joy, peace, comfort, certainty, and happiness all in one. It was like coming home. My questions had now been answered.
The members of the church welcomed me with open arms. At first, I was reluctant to accept these welcomes because it was a little too much. I wasn’t used to so many people. They welcomed me whether they knew me or not. At the end of the meeting, a calm feeling came over me, and I heard these words in my mind: “Debbie, this is the place, and these are the people you have been searching for.”
Looking back, I see that my life in the ghetto was difficult and that a person could make it harder by making wrong choices. There was little opportunity for progression. But I wanted something worth living for. When the opportunity came to leave the ghetto with part of my family, I decided this was my chance.
Many of the girls I grew up with never left the ghetto. I could not have made it without following the desires of my heart and trusting in my Father above to lead me. I was blessed with the chance to leave the ghetto, be baptized a member of this church, gain an education, and fulfill a mission. I know Heavenly Father loves us all and is mindful of our circumstances, no matter where we are. He desires above all things that we find true happiness.

We have subscribed to the New Era from day one, and now, even though our youngest child is on a mission, I wouldn’t even consider letting our subscription expire. I turn to the New Era constantly as I prepare for my teaching responsibilities. I taught seminary for four years, and I felt the New Era was so important that I formulated questions from the magazine that my students could answer for bonus points. The response was so great that I allowed them to give a brief synopsis of the article from which the question was taken if they cared to, and many times they did. To me, that was a good indicator of their enthusiasm for the New Era.