Gospel Story Finder

In 1969, while working in a bookstore in Bayonne, France, Evelyne Pérez noticed two young men, well-dressed and polite, who came into the store occasionally. “One day they asked if I would put up a notice about the English course they were teaching,” she remembers. “They said they were missionaries. When they later came to my house for a discussion, I learned that they represented The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“Most of what I had heard about Mormons wasn’t good. But a friend who had lived in South America told me, ‘The Mormons are the only church that respects Latin American culture. They don’t impose their own way of life.’ That impressed me.”
Evelyne began reading everything she could find about the Church. She learned of the plan of salvation and was much impressed with the Church’s welfare plan, which encourages a respect for personal dignity while helping recipients become independent.
But her first reading of the Book of Mormon was a disappointment. She had always been interested in pre-Columbian America, but what she read in the Book of Mormon “did not correspond with what I had previously learned. On the other hand, I found the teachings very worthwhile. Something led me to continue my research.”
The missionaries gave her some copies of L’Etoile (French). In its pages she met simple people leading clean lives. “Just to know that such people existed somewhere did me a lot of good. I was very much concerned about the world’s attacks on the family,” she remembers. Through general conference reports, she became acquainted with Church leaders and felt their teachings could have their source only in Jesus Christ. “That,” she says, “was a turning point in my conversion. I decided to follow the commandments, even though I was not ready to accept Joseph Smith or the Book of Mormon.”
Her concerns and remaining questions were resolved as she read Jesus the Christ, The Articles of Faith, and the Doctrine and Covenants. Reading the New Testament with a new perspective, she found a phrase that applied directly to the people and the teachings she was studying: “By their fruits ye shall know them” (see Matt. 7:15–20).
As she prayed, her testimony and her love of Heavenly Father grew. With budding faith, she decided to read the Book of Mormon again—this time not as a history book but as a means of finding Jesus Christ. Her reading led to a desire to take upon herself the name of Christ through baptism.
Because Evelyne’s husband distrusted all churches, he refused to grant permission for her to be baptized. Her reaction was consistent with the gospel she had accepted: “I decided I shouldn’t try to change him, but to change myself and become a better Christian.
“Unfortunately we moved to Antibes, 700 kilometers away, and I lost contact with the Church for a while. But I felt a need to associate with people with the same faith I had, and eventually I located the mission office. I was able to attend some meetings, where I learned more about God’s love for all his children and the need for us to be tolerant and to forgive.”
Evelyne was delighted to become part of the branch: “I was received with much warmth and was impressed that while attending Relief Society meetings I never heard anyone criticize another sister.”
The year 1991 finally brought to harvest Evelyne’s growth toward Church membership. Her 20-year-old granddaughter, Vanessa, was at her home when the missionaries called. The young woman was invited to a social and soon began attending church. When Vanessa decided to be baptized and married, Evelyne obtained clearance from the mission president to be baptized. She was baptized in June 1991. Vanessa followed in July.
A few years ago Sister Pérez’s husband passed away. Not long before his death, he had expressed an interest in joining the Church.
Sister Pérez’s patience has been rewarded following her 22-year wait, but, as she explains, her harvest of Church service is far from over: “A conversion is never completely finished. There is always something to improve. But now I am sure of being on the right path. I am ready to accept whatever the Lord asks of me.”
In the years following her baptism and then the death of her husband, Sister Pérez has lived up to her commitment to serve by sharing her harvest of joy with others. She recently returned from serving full time in the England Bristol Mission.

She was sure it was late fall of 1993. At least that’s what Amy Westerby thought when she left Provo one morning to travel to Antelope Island located in the middle of the Great Salt Lake in Utah. Somewhere along the way, she seemed to go back in time 600 years before Christ.
Amy had been selected to play the character Susan in the new seminary videos where truths from the Book of Mormon are played out in modern scenarios. This day she was there to participate in the opening shots of the video called I Will Prepare the Way, where her character walks along a long, white sand beach. She was also going to get the chance to see Nephi’s boat being built.
According to Amy it was amazing to see a huge wooden boat being constructed before her eyes. And the men playing Nephi and his brothers were so realistically dressed. It felt a little like a time machine. “It was great just to be there,” said Amy, “and watch the whole thing happen.”

Consider also the example of Artemus Millet. In 1832 the Church faced a real dilemma. A stonemason was needed to direct the stonework on the Kirtland Temple. No one was qualified. Lorenzo Young suggested that they recruit Artemus Millet, who was a capable stonemason living in Canada. But there was one problem—Artemus was not a member of the Church. Joseph Smith paused and considered the suggestion. He then turned to Brigham Young and said, “I give you a mission to go to Canada and baptize Brother Artemus Millet and bring him here.” If that wasn’t enough, he then said, “And tell him to bring a thousand dollars with him” (Millet Family History, “A Brief History of Artemus Millet,” manuscript, LDS Archives, pp. 70–71). You prospective and returned missionaries, how would you like to receive such a mission assignment? With the help of the Lord, Brigham Young went to Canada and taught and baptized Brother Millet. When he was asked to leave Canada to supervise the work on the Kirtland Temple, Brother Millet responded that he had a business in Canada and if he left, not only would the business fail, but people who owed him money would never pay their debts to him. Being touched by the Spirit, Brother Millet left his business and moved to Kirtland, Ohio.

The stately Kirtland Temple is in a large part a monument to Artemus Millet. He lost his business. He lost his money. He lost his prestigious standing in Canada. Later his wife died. But look what he gained. He gained the gospel. He fulfilled an important earthly mission. He gained an eternal family, and today there are thousands of his descendants in the Church who call him blessed. I know some of his descendants who are leaders in this Church and who acknowledge that much of what they count dear in their lives is because of their faithful forefathers in following the prophet of God.

Gary*—a young, single man—was feeling out of place in his ward, which consisted mostly of families. He was unemployed and without a car when Mike* became his home teacher. “Looking back, I don’t remember Mike ever giving me a formal lesson,” Gary says. “Instead, he would pick me up each Sunday, and since Mike was on the high council, he would take me along on his speaking assignments. With six children, Mike didn’t have much time, but he always had time for me. Often our visits in the car would extend long after each meeting as we exchanged the highs and the lows of the past week.
“When I did get a car, Mike still gave me rides because we enjoyed our long talks,” continues Gary. “One weekend he took me with his family to a college football game. Another weekend we worked together putting in his mailbox. Although Mike has since moved, we still keep in touch. We are truly eternal friends.”

1. Cory and his family entering the meetinghouse where Cory will be confirmed a member of the Church.
2. Inside, Cory sits with his family and friends.
3. After the babies are blessed the confirmations will take place.
4. When Cory’s name is called he and his father go to the front of the congregation where Cory sits down in a chair. Cory’s father and friends stand in a circle around him.
5. They place their hands upon Cory’s head while his father, who holds the Melchizedek Priesthood, calls Cory by name, confirms him a member of the Church, gives him the gift of the Holy Ghost, and a blessing.
6. After the prayer has been given, the men in the circle shake Cory’s hand and congratulate him.

At age fourteen, Robert, a native of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, secured an apprenticeship as a moulder. His work involved pouring liquid metal into moulds to create tools and other implements.1 During this time, Robert got mixed up in the ways of the world until one day his conscience hit him. “I felt hurt because I knew I was not doing right; my conscience smote me many times. I often thought of the grave, and hellfire and brimstone, and the wicked living there forever and ever.”2
One of Robert’s cousins, a Methodist and teetotaller, helped him to change his ways. Robert also became a teetotaller and although he attended religious services, he “never could join” the Methodists. At work, Robert met a young man who abstained from drinking and was the only colleague who was kind to him. It emerged that this young man was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In their conversations Robert found himself agreeing with everything his colleague said. Finally, despite his family’s opposition, he was baptised on 25 May 1850 by Thomas Greener, his colleague who had introduced him to the gospel. Of the experience, Robert wrote: “I felt that I was changed from darkness to light and from the Kingdom of Satan unto the light of the Glorious Gospel.”

The first experience I share with you came in the spring and summer of 1972 when I was a young father.

At Easter in 1972, the Vietnam war was ending when it suddenly exploded in renewed violence by the devastating attack of North Vietnam against the South. At the time I was a Marine 1st Lieutenant stationed in California at Camp Pendelton, and was suddenly and unexpectedly sent to Vietnam to help direct heavy weapons for the South Vietnamese defense. Sister Biddulph and I had less than an hour to see each other before I left. She was at the time 6-months pregnant with our third child, and we had two little boys: one and three in age. I remember how our eyes locked one last time as the truck drove away to the airport. We did not know if we would see each other again in this life.

My first night in Saigon- now Ho Chi Minh City- was a troubling experience. I was beset upon by a dark spirit that pressed upon me with such power as to prevent me from sleep and fill me with remorse, fear, and despair. In that dark state, I searched my Patriarchal Blessing, which I had fortunately thought to bring with me, pleading with the Lord to give me comfort and courage to face what lay ahead. After a long period of struggling in the spirit, the Holy Ghost suddenly descended upon me, soothing me from head to toe. Despair fled into the night and I was left with a deep calmness, as if the Lord said to me: "Be still and know that I am God." (Ps. 46:10, D&C 101:16)

I was assigned to a Battalion of South Vietnamese Marines. For several weeks we made suicide attacks behind North Vietnamese front lines to break their line of defense and disrupt their ability to prosecute the war. The evening before our first mission, the Battalion Commander invited me and another US officer to dine with him and his staff. They served tall, cool glasses of Vietnamese beer at the meal. It was very hot and humid; I yearned for a cool drink instead of the hot canteen water. Yet, I knew that I could not drink the beer because I had made a promise, called the Word of Wisdom, to avoid such substances.

During the meal, the US officer challenged me to drink the beer so that the Vietnamese would know that I was a "real Marine." Real Marines could hold their beer. It was not an easy or flippant decision for me to make because I valued my reputation as a Marine, and I wanted the confidence of the Vietnamese. I knew that we would need to depend upon each other in the days to come. Respect was paramount.

But I knew that tomorrow and days in the future I would need the help of the Lord, and how could I ask for His help if I had ignored His counsel in better times? "I the Lord am bound when ye do what I say, but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise." (D&C 82:10) My need for trust in the Lord was greater than my need for trust in the arm of flesh.

The next morning we made our heliborne assault and for 9 days were in heavy combat against North Vietnamese forces. After a few days, I became very ill with a high fever, headache and dizziness. I lost my appetite and became weak in the intense heat and humidity.

One night, the captain came to our foxhole and told us that we were leaving early in the morning for an all-day forced march back to a bivouac site to prepare for another mission. I could hardly stand, let alone hike in full combat gear. I went to sleep that night in my foxhole knowing that I needed a miracle from the Lord to be able to make that forced march in the morning.

I awoke at 4 a.m. drenched in sweat. My fever had broken during the night and the pain and dizziness were gone. Despite my weakness, I was able to make the 12 hour forced march. I knew without a doubt that the Lord had kept his promises to me because I had kept my promise: "All those who keep these saying... shall receive health in their navel and marrow to their bones; and shall find wisdom and treasures of knowledge; and shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint. And I the Lord give unto them a promise that the destroying angel shall pass by them, as the children of Israel, and not slay them" (D&C 89:18-21).

Two days later, we made another suicide attack. This one was worse than the first. We landed in the midst of a large enemy force out numbering us 5:1. We took heavy casualties during the assault and were surrounded for 3 days behind enemy lines desperately holding out for friendly forces to fight their way to our rescue.

Within the first five minutes of our landing, I was shot through both legs, and many others were killed or seriously wounded. Our medical officer was killed and medical supplies destroyed in the crash of one of the helicopters. Our situation was precarious and getting worse by the day. Rescue had to come soon if we were to survive.

The afternoon of the third day, an enemy tank suddenly fired upon the grass hut in which I was resting. The first round exploded short of the hut throwing shrapnel into the rafters and thatched roof. Everyone in the vicinity fled or took cover. I struggled to a small sandbag wall about 2 feet high and lay down behind it, pulling my helmet down over my face and wrapping my flack jacket tight around my body.

The second round just missed the roof and struck the haystack on the far side of the hut. At that moment, two truths were manifest to me with spiritual power: The next round would hit the hut and I would not survive a direct hit. It was the Spirit's way of saying, "Okay, the next round is coming and it's going to kill you. What are you going to do about it? And you had better hurry." I felt completely helpless. There was nothing I could do... except pray.

And that is exactly what I did. I spoke with Heavenly Father as if He were lying right next to me. In those moments of prayer, I felt no fear of death, not even violent, painful death. I had a perfect faith that if my body were destroyed, my spirit would yet live. In fact, I saw it happening in my mind, and I felt no terror. But I was filled with a yearning to live. More than anything I have ever desired, I wanted to live. I wasn't ready to leave mortality yet. I told Heavenly Father that I wanted to live to be a father to those boys and a husband to my wife. I promised Heavenly Father that if life was granted to me, I would be the best father and husband I could be.

I waited breathless for the answer. The third round did not come... not for a couple of hours and by then, I had been miraculously rescued by helicopters out of harm's way. According to a friend who witnessed the fulfillment of my spiritual premonition, when the third round came, it came suddenly and turned the house into an inferno.

So why did the Lord honor my promise and not others? There are no answers for such a question. Questions of why are not the right ones to ask. Better questions are how and what: How can I use this experience to become a better person? What can I learn from this experience to help me and others? Since that promise made 36 years ago, I have tried-imperfectly-to honor the covenant made behind a sandbag wall in Quang Tri, Vietnam.

About a year ago, I woke up in a trailer someplace in Illinois, full of drugs and alcohol, and I didn’t remember anything I’d done. I remembered only that on my business trip, as soon as the plane landed, it took me all of about 10 minutes to ditch my colleague, go straight to the bar, and disappear for three days. The second day—the day I was supposed to fly home—was my daughter’s birthday. Just a year ago.
A year ago Mark (names have been changed) didn’t know how he would overcome his addiction to drugs and alcohol. He had already tried to quit. He had visited with his bishop, been to professional counselors, gone through rehabilitation centers, and exerted all the willpower he could, but nothing brought permanent change. Soon after that critical moment in Illinois, he found the Church’s 12-step addiction recovery program, sponsored by LDS Family Services. In the program, he found the principles and direction that would change his life.
The change occurred as he studied and applied the principles taught in the program workbook and weekly recovery meetings. The workbook guides readers toward recovery using 12 steps, each of which addresses an essential principle of recovery such as honesty, hope, or trust in God. At the weekly meetings, participants are able to gain strength from others and share their own experiences of applying the principles.
Mark learned that the journey from addiction to recovery is a difficult one, but knowing people who have already made that journey can give hope to those who struggle. At each meeting a facilitator—someone who has experienced recovery—encourages others by sharing insights based on his or her own recovery. Mark is now a facilitator. Each week he shares his experiences (included in this article in italics) to help others understand that they are not alone and that addiction can be overcome.
After each time I gave in, I would say, “This time is going to be different. Please, Lord, help me. I don’t want this to be a part of my life.” Yet it continued to be.
An oft-repeated phrase among program participants is that an individual seeks recovery “when the pain of the problem becomes greater than the pain of the solution.” When Mark reached that point, he took a friend’s suggestion and came to a Latter-day Saint addiction-recovery meeting. Some people decide on their own to come. Others are encouraged to attend by friends or priesthood leaders. Some have been ordered by a court of law to attend 12-step recovery meetings.
Working the steps of this program simplified the gospel in a way that I could apply the testimony I had always had.
As Mark discovered, the steps of the addiction recovery program are a systematic way of implementing gospel principles. The 12 steps are adapted from the original Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, but the Church’s program is unique because it puts the steps into “a framework of the doctrines and beliefs of the Church.”1 In the addiction recovery program, the 12 steps are actually steps to accessing the power of the Atonement.
The change that has happened to me is I’m not miserable all the time. Sometimes it’s not easy. Perhaps the Lord doesn’t see fit to take it all from me right now, but He strengthens me so I can bear it patiently and cheerfully, and I can progress. He lightens it just enough that I learn the most that I can.
In the past I was able to abstain for periods of time. I’d get myself back in good standing with the Church and serve in callings, and everyone would tell me how great I was. But I didn’t feel great on the inside at all. And that’s why abstaining is just one part of it. True recovery is not doing it and not wanting to do it because our nature is changed.
Every day I seek my Heavenly Father in prayer and through the scriptures. In the morning I read books about recovery, and I write my feelings and my impressions. I call a support person in the program to help clarify my thinking. I go to the meetings. I try to serve. And I have never relapsed on a day that I have done those things.
Those daily tasks keep Mark spiritually well. Others who have been through the program have discovered the same truth: maintaining spiritual strength requires continuous effort. No one is completely safe from relapse, but through daily gospel living, those who struggle with addiction come unto Christ and receive strength and hope.
“I’m learning bit by bit, precept upon precept,” says Mark. “My nature is changing, and it’s the first time since this started that I can say I have hope. I truly believe that I never have to relapse again.”

It’s 6:00 p.m. at the Yoshida family’s natural health products store in El Paso, Texas—time to close for the day. Julio and Gabriela, with help from their children, wait on their last customers, tidy up, and prepare to head home.

As different as the Hernandez and Yoshida businesses are from each other, they have something important in common. They owe their success, at least partially, to principles taught through the Church’s self-reliance initiative.

“If you make the principles of self-reliance the basis of your business, it will grow,” says Julio Yoshida. “It will become stronger and more stable. The self-reliance program also made me stronger and more positive. I find greater meaning in my work and more opportunities when I apply these principles.”

When the Yoshidas opened their business in 2016, Julio was serving as their ward’s bishop. Both money and time were tight.

“When you start a business, you have to be prepared economically and mentally because you might not have a lot of income at first,” says Gabriela Yoshida. “We didn’t suffer any losses when we opened, but our income fell short of what we were accustomed to because we were investing so much in the business. We had to tighten our belts and adjust our budget. We guarded each dollar that went out.”

In 2017, Gabriela, in charge of their family finances, attended a Personal Finances for Self-Reliance course. Julio, in charge of their business finances, took the Starting and Growing My Business course. He says that learning to use financial resources more wisely—both at home and at work—was paramount.

“I became better organized in what we bought and sold,” he says. “I made sure we moved old merchandise first and newer merchandise later. We began purchasing with better efficiency. We eventually got rid of stuff we didn’t sell. We also applied what we learned to our advertising.”

To determine the effectiveness of their advertising, they surveyed new customers to find out how they had heard about the business.

“We advertised on two TV stations, one in English and one in Spanish,” says Gabriela. “Given that many of our clients speak Spanish, we were surprised to learn that the station in English worked better for us.”

Julio Yoshida and his daughter Martha wait on customers at their family business.

That principle also blessed the Yoshida family.

“We didn’t think we had enough money to save any, but we said, ‘We must have a savings, come what may,’” says Gabriela. “So, we started saving, though it was only a small amount each month.”

During the first three years that they ran their business, the Yoshidas worked hard, saved, and sacrificed. Their children also helped at the store.

“We all worked in the family business, and we didn’t have any rest for three years,” says Sister Yoshida. “We had two children serving missions, and there wasn’t money for a vacation. We just kept saving until finally we could all enjoy a summer vacation together. We deserved it!”

It can take a while for a start-up business to begin making money and for a family to build up a savings, but for the Yoshida, Hernandez, and Vasquez families, embracing inspired principles has brought them blessings.

“It’s very important that we pay our tithing,” says Brother Yoshida. “We have had some tight times, but we have always remembered to live this law, and the Lord has blessed us greatly. We are self-reliant. That’s what we wanted.”

When I was 11 years old, I had a wonderful Primary teacher. One day in class, she walked in on a discussion among us 11-year-old boys about our mothers and how tough they were on us. Our mothers would insist that we make our beds, help with the dishes, take out the garbage, and even help with other housework.
Our teacher said nothing but went ahead with our lesson. At the end of the class, she said that on the coming Saturday morning we were going to have a special activity at her house.
That Saturday, we peddled our bicycles to her home. She gathered us around her dining room table where she had some liquids in bottles. She also had small, empty bottles for each of us. We poured so much of this and so much of that through a funnel into our bottles. We learned that we were making hand lotion for our mothers.
When we finished, our teacher gave us a small piece of paper on which she had written a verse. We each copied it down and taped the verse onto our bottles. We proudly took the lotion home to our mothers as a gift.
My mother was wise so, instead of using the lotion, she put it on the middle shelf of our bathroom’s medicine cabinet. It remained there through all my teenage years. Every day, as I opened that cabinet to get my toothbrush or comb, there on the shelf was the bottle with that handwritten verse. It was still there the day I combed my hair before leaving for my mission.
That verse impacted my life permanently. It said, “Bless the hands that never tire in their loving care for me.” That message, which I read every day, drove deep into my heart love, respect, and appreciation for my mom.

With three children under the age of three, Diana Hoffman found little time to read the scriptures. But she determined to make scripture study a priority, hoping the Lord would bless her with the time needed to care for herself and her family. By getting up earlier and reading while the children were sleeping, she found herself strengthened, able to accomplish all she needed to, and blessed with the companionship of the Holy Ghost.
She says: “I have more patience with my children, more understanding and compassion for others, and more love for my husband. I feel at peace, and I am aware of an abundance of blessings in my life. I have a greater awareness of my priorities and a great satisfaction with what I am achieving” (Ensign, January 1996, 11).

I just had a startling revelation. I was coming home this evening after visiting a branch conference and found my son poring over the February issue of the New Era. When I find him, at 16, spending time on the important things in life, I’m naturally curious.
After he had finished and put it on the table, it was immediately obvious why he had picked it up. The cover is a picture of a cute young woman. I flipped through the magazine and, knowing my son, it was not difficult to pick out the articles he had read.
I picked them out and verified my queries with him. Had he read the article on page 4, “What Is True Greatness?” No. Had he read the article on page 16 about preparing for a mission? No.
He went through the pictures of the pretty young lady whose article begins on page 21, and he read the story starting on page 32, “A Portrait of Brenda.”
Guess who read the missionary article on page 16? My 18-year-old daughter. Not solely because it has a picture of a cute missionary, but that didn’t hurt things.
Now for my revelation. If you’d have put a picture of a pretty young woman on page 16, and titled the story something like, “Why I go for R.M.’s,” you’d probably have every 12- to 18-year-old young man in the Church reading it. If the picture on page 16 had been put on page 32, guess who would be reading that story?
True, I’ve put a little tongue in cheek here, but I just find it interesting what attracts the attention of my teenagers.
Tom HaynieGrand Blanc, Michigan

I was the healthy father of two beautiful children and the husband to a wonderful and hardworking wife. I had a good job with a stable income. Life seemed to be perfect, but my world started to fall apart when I was diagnosed with nasopharyngeal cancer, a rare type of head and neck cancer.
I was serving as a counselor to the bishop at the time, and we were holding our annual basketball tournament at the church when I began to feel very sick. I went to see the doctor, and after many lab tests, he announced that I had stage 4 nasopharyngeal cancer. I was worried and scared. I wondered if this was the end of my life and what would happen to my family if I died. The only thing I could really depend on for guidance and comfort was prayer to Heavenly Father.
After three days of constant prayer, I felt as if a soft voice whispered, “Fear not.”
From that moment on, the fear of death was no longer on my mind. Things were still difficult for me. There was a time I couldn’t swallow any food and I was too sick to sleep, but I never gave up or turned away from God—and He has helped me.
My cancer has been in remission for more than 18 years. I don’t know how long God will allow me to live, but I’m glad that I can still serve my brothers and sisters. I know that our Heavenly Father never leaves or abandons us. And if we want to receive blessings from God, we can’t leave or abandon Him.

Sister A. J. Hough, also of the Kettering Ward, tells of how emphasis on For the Strength of Youth has helped her be a better parent: “Having three teenagers, I wanted to ensure that I, too, was living the standards completely. I was keen to find ways I could ‘raise the bar’ and set a good example. I decided on the section on ‘Sabbath Day Observance’ and have set myself new goals to improve the example I am personally. I hope I can be a better influence to those I love the most—my family. We now use the booklet during family home evening. And whether we’re being creative with our family activities or planning ahead to fully observe the Sabbath, we use these standards to guide us.”

But it’s not only in public ways that the gospel helps the youth in Alice Springs. For Ivan Munn, 18, the gospel has brought the reassurance that he can turn to the Lord for help.
“I’ve learned some things the hard way,” Ivan says. “I fell away from the Church, but now I’m back. I’ve stopped doing the bad things, and I’m working to show my love for the Lord. Repentance is a hard job, but it’s worth it.”
Ivan says Church friends have made a difference. “The youth here, the missionaries, the leaders—they’ve all helped me sort things out,” he says. “But faith in the Savior and in Heavenly Father is what keeps you going. The Book of Mormon talks about the servant and the master in the fruit fields [see Jacob 5]. It talks about cutting out the bad fruit so that good fruit can come forth. I think that symbolizes my life. With the Lord’s help, I’ve cut away the bad fruit. I believe the good fruit is starting to come forth.”

One day a nameless Spanish deaf-mute girl found a priceless statue behind a wooden panel in a church she was cleaning. From then on she played with the marble baby each day, and each day she loved it more.
How the girl and the statue changed the lives of the people in the village, as well as those who came from outside the village to view the long-lost treasure, is a story that can bring deep and thoughtful pleasure to all who read it.
The story is beautifully, simply, and powerfully written to appeal to all ages, but especially to older readers of the Friend.

The power of the priesthood and the importance of its restoration and blessings came to have special meaning in my life when I was the age of many of you. I was just 15. My mother and father were miles away from our home, and my grandmother was staying with me. While my parents were away, a serious ear infection developed, and I was rushed to the hospital. The infection required major surgery and was carried out immediately. Following the operation, I overheard one of the doctors tell a nurse that the damage to my ear had been so severe that I would permanently lose my hearing and my equilibrium.

When my parents arrived at the hospital and realized the seriousness of my situation, they knew what to do. My father and another Melchizedek Priesthood holder, having the power and authority to act in the name of God, administered to me, using the oil that had been consecrated by the priesthood for the healing of the sick. My father placed his hands upon my shaven head, which was mostly wrapped in bandages, and gave me a blessing.

My mother was also impressed that she should place my name on the prayer roll of the Alberta Temple where those in attendance would join their faith in prayer for me. It was the first time I knew that people could have their name placed on the prayer roll in the temple. In time, through faith and the power of the priesthood, my healing was complete.

When I found out that our stake was going to produce a musical show I was filled with the desire to participate. I had been in many plays, but since becoming totally blind three years earlier, I had neglected my love of amateur acting. I was afraid that the directors would never use a blind actress, and I wondered if I would be able to handle the complex stage movements. But my desires overcame my fears, and I auditioned for a part in the show.
The audition went well, but even my very supportive husband warned me not to get too hopeful. To my surprise, I not only got the part I wanted, but one of the directors hadn’t even realized I was blind! Had I let my fears keep me from trying, I would have missed one of the most delightful experiences of my life.

In 2018, Latter-day Saint Robert Opiyo joined the only ice hockey club in East-Central Africa, the Kenya Ice Lions. At the time, there were fewer than 30 ice hockey players in all of Kenya, and 17 of them (15 men and 2 women) were members of the Ice Lions team.
Today, there are over 40 adult players and 40 youth players who practice at least twice a week. Robert used the skills he learned on his mission in Melbourne, Australia, as one of the team’s executive members.
The Ice Lions trained at a hotel ice rink that was two-thirds the size of a regulation ice hockey rink. In October 2018, the team was sponsored to travel to Toronto, Canada, to play against two amateur Canadian teams.
Prior to their first match in Toronto, they trained without a goalkeeper. In a news interview in Toronto, the Ice Lions’ captain explained: “We didn’t have goalie equipment, and nobody can take that risk to be a goalie without the proper gear. So, what we used to do was set up a rubber toy penguin and we used to put it at the center of the goal and to score you had to hit the penguin above the belly.”
Due to challenges during the COVID-19 period, the team slowed down on activities and are now getting back on their feet. They often get support from individuals and groups who donate funds for their ice time and equipment that are used in the community.
Brother Opiyo dreams of the Olympics someday but is also content to be part of this pioneering endeavor. “Slowly more people hear about our desire and want to help us get there,” he said. “I’m grateful to have been a part that set the foundation for future generations.”

One of Sister Redd’s “jewel” times was at the birth of her first child, a son. But within three months the trials and tests of this life soon closed in. Both mother and child were afflicted with polio. Anxieties were high and prayers were intense. Brother Philip Redd, her husband and now area director of seminaries and institutes in Southeast Asia, was preparing within the month to begin his career as a full-time seminary teacher. “We felt we had really tried to do what was right and that we were doing what the Lord wanted us to be doing. We had faith that the Lord would bless us even in our afflictions.”
Our Father in Heaven has told us that his people must be tried and tested, even as Abraham who was commanded to offer up his only son (see Gen. 22:1–4; D&C 101:4). And so it was that this faithful couple was tested. Their prayers were answered, but only partially. Sister Redd was healed and left without any ill effects from the dread disease, but her precious child, her only son, was stricken with crippling paralysis in his leg, his arms, and his back. The brightness of a happy time had quickly faded. The scratches and bites of life became a painful reality. Brother and Sister Redd were forced to give up their child to the professional care of the children’s hospital over a 160 kilometers away where he could receive special attention. Even after a year he was still very weak and progress remained slow.
Three long anxious years, and the concern for her child only increased. The divine nature of a true and righteous mother, with all of the pure emotions inherent in the sacred role of motherhood, swelled within her aching heart. “I just wanted so desperately for him to be well,” she whispered. “It was so hard not to be able to tuck my little boy in at night. His life was vital to us.”
One night at the very peak of her anxiety, this young mother rose from her bed, went into the other room, and talked to her Father in Heaven. She had remembered an incident in her own childhood. A great and noble woman had prayed in behalf of her afflicted husband and requested that, if the Lord were willing, she be allowed to carry her husband’s infirmities so that his service to the Lord would not be restricted. This sister, almost immediately, became stone deaf and remained so throughout her life, while her husband, miraculously healed, became a spiritual giant, a man of God, and a powerful leader in building the kingdom of God in that area. With the memory of this incident in her heart, this faithful mother supplicated the Father in her son’s behalf, asking if she might take her son’s infirmities upon herself. Of this incident she concluded, “I returned to my bed and went to sleep.”
Even though her baby remained in the hospital, there were still some happy, “jewel” times. Another little boy was born and then a little girl. In time the afflicted child became stronger and stronger, and he learned to walk with braces. Eventually he was able to leave the hospital for a time, allowing this little family to be together at home for Christmas.
While there were ample reasons for quiet rejoicing, the scratching, biting times were painfully evident. Gradually over the following months Sister Redd became anxiously aware that she was losing the feeling in her hands and her feet. While diapering her baby, she would often stick the safety pin into her thumb unknowingly. When she noticed the blood, her growing concern increased. She sensed a frightening paralysis creeping over her entire body. It was very difficult for her to handle her little new baby and the responsibilities of her young family. As the months and years continued, there were both struggles and blessings along the way. Braces were laid aside and her little son managed to make his way to school. These blessings were acknowledged with humble gratitude, deeply expressed. But suffering severe headaches and with no feeling in her hands or feet, the young mother of three cried out for help. The support of family and friends seemed not enough. “People were good, so very, very good,” she gratefully recalled. “But being restricted physically, not being able to take care of those you love, is so very difficult.”
At this time a team of specialists determined that it was probably multiple sclerosis that had afflicted her body, leaving her so painfully handicapped. The thoughts of her future gave cause for great anxiety. “That was years ago,” she said. Sister Redd, now a beautiful, healthy, and active woman, vibrant in countenance and testimony, radiates a spirit that has been purified through struggle.
She spoke of the day she and her devoted husband, seeking first the will of the Lord in all things, sought counsel from a friend who had been the supervisor of seminaries and was now a General Authority. “He told us that he didn’t think the Lord meant for me to give my life. He gave me a blessing, explaining that the Lord had accepted my offering in behalf of my child. He promised me that I would live. But it is not we who regulate the magnitude of our tests or determine the time of relief,” she explained. “We do not receive a witness until after the trial of our faith (see Ether 12:6), and our Father in Heaven will make that determination.”
The very hour one might expect relief may be the moment in which the Lord will take count of our endurance and our faithfulness. Following the blessing, Sister Redd’s condition worsened, and on the 25th of October she was confined to bed. She had to be fed, and “I couldn’t even brush my teeth,” she explained. “My good husband and I talked about the purpose of life and death, and we prayed that we could accept whatever the Lord had for us. At that time we felt that everything would be all right.” Drawing strength from each other, these young parents were tested and were found “willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [them], even as a child doth submit to his father.” (Mosiah 3:19).
On the 20th of December Nedra Redd was flown to the hospital in Edmonton, Alberta. There she received further tests. After two long, anxious days, the doctors confirmed the probability that it was not multiple sclerosis that had afflicted her entire body, but rather a very deep and serious brain tumor at the base of her skull. It appeared to be inoperable. In her weakened condition, the possibility of surgery was considered a high and frightening risk. But the doctors explained that she would have only two weeks to live if they didn’t remove the growth. It was seriously impairing her breathing and would soon cut off her rapidly diminishing flow of air. The situation seemed desperate. One doctor offered counsel, suggesting that if they wanted to risk surgery, they would surely want to wait until after Christmas. But Sister Redd reached into her reservoir of strength, filled in large measure by the blessing she had received from their friend the General Authority. Courageously this young couple made their decision. “Surgery was scheduled for Christmas Eve,” she said. “We felt our Father in Heaven was beginning to answer our prayers,” she whispered. “On Sunday night my cousin, who was the stake president, came to give me a blessing. He told me later that when he gave me that blessing, he literally felt the strength flow from him.” The power of the priesthood was again activated in her behalf.
Anxious family and friends waited through the nightlong vigil following the surgery. Dawn broke forth; it was Christmas morning. The tumor had been removed. All was quiet as the moments ticked on in that hospital room. Her future hung in the balance. “I had a very special thinking time as I regained consciousness,” Sister Redd explained. It was in the twilight time between life and death that the gifts of life came back to this faithful woman on that Christmas morning. They returned one by one with enough space between each to allow time for cherishing and savoring. Such gifts, such jewels, such priceless jewels!
“I’m all right! I didn’t die in surgery! I’m alive!” was her first realization. “But everything was black, and I couldn’t hear anything. I tried to speak, and I couldn’t speak. I thought, ‘I’m blind. I can’t hear. I can’t speak. But I am alive.’ I can remember such a surge of gratitude that I was alive, and then I sank into unconsciousness again. When I realized later that I was conscious again and that there was a sort of grayness around me, I thought, ‘I am not totally blind. I can see some light.’ I can remember praying and telling my Father, ‘Thank you. I’m alive and I’m not totally blind.’ I couldn’t have lived in darkness. So I gave thanks again. Then I realized I could see Phil’s face. My husband was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. But,” she said with intensity, “I could see him. I was grateful that I could see his face.
“Soon I realized I could hear him speaking to me, so I prayed again and gave thanks that I could see and hear. I thought, ‘I can’t speak, but it’s enough. I can see and I can hear.’”
Sister Redd, reflecting on her deep gratitude for those precious gifts on that Christmas morning, shared the ecstasy of her final treasure. “The doctor was there. I had been trying to speak. I heard him ask my husband, ‘Can she speak?’ He shook his head just slightly. ‘I was afraid of that,’ the doctor said. ‘We had to destroy quite a bit of her vocal chords to get the tumor. I was afraid she would not be able to speak.’”
With a happy tone in her clear, full voice, Sister Redd recalled her thoughts at that moment: “‘Oh, so that’s it.’ I thought. ‘I can’t talk. But I can hear and I can see.’ I had such a deep feeling of joy and gratitude. Then the doctor put his finger on the hole in my throat where the tracheotomy was and said, ‘Now try.’ I could make sounds! I knew I was not mute. It was such a good feeling. We knew the Lord had blessed us.
“It was Christmas morning. Phil had spent the night with me when I needed him so much. With my whole soul filled with gratitude and thanksgiving, I asked him to go home and be with the children. It was a wonderful Christmas.”
From the deep reservoir of faith and courage, carved out by times of trial and suffering, Brother and Sister Redd rejoice. “It is such a comforting feeling to know that there is nothing the Lord can’t do or won’t do for you if it is for your good.” They have made this discovery: “The Lord is in the everyday things, not just the eternal, glorious things. It’s like the comparison between the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ and quiet background music. He is in both, and knowing that provides a continuous awareness of happily-ever-after times in all of life.”