Gospel Story Finder

The Ratnam teens explain that having the priesthood in their home also adds to their family’s well-being. They reminisce about how their father led the rest of them into the Church eight years ago, even when they had to travel—all four of them—40 kilometers (25 miles) each way on a single motorbike just to get to their meetings. They talk about prayers of faith for Pavani when she was sick on the day Dad was baptized, about the priesthood blessing Dad gave to seriously ill Naga during school exams, and about the way Dad always counsels with Mom, with them, and in prayer with Heavenly Father when making major decisions.

Halfway through my senior year of high school, I received a huge surprise. My parents were called to preside over the Uruguay Montevideo Mission, which meant that they would be moving to another continent along with my four younger siblings. I was already stressed about graduating from high school, but now I would be attending college all alone.
My transition from high school to college could not have been harder. I had always thought that I’d have my family nearby when I entered university, but now to see them I’d have to spend nearly 24 hours on planes and in airports. While I was surrounded by kind roommates and thousands of students, I had never felt more alone.
The pressures of school were overwhelming. I didn’t know what I wanted to study and found my classes challenging. And I was also struggling in a difficult dating relationship. I never knew that entering adulthood could be so hard and didn’t know how to move forward. My fear of the future overwhelmed me.
Soon, my fearful feelings made it difficult to function. Getting out of bed and being productive was difficult. One morning, I was asking the Lord to give me the strength to make it through the day. “I can’t keep doing this alone,” I told Him. And in a rare moment of mental and emotional clarity, I heard the soft words of the Spirit whisper, “You don’t have to.” Peace flooded my mind. I knew that somehow everything would work out, even if it didn’t happen immediately.
I remembered those words on the most difficult days. They helped me through the first semester, but when the second semester came, I was once again flooded with fear. The Lord sustained me every day, but I was afraid I would never feel better.
Then, general conference of April 2017 came around. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, then the Second Counselor in the First Presidency, taught about the power that faith and love have over fear. “I don’t believe God wants His children to be fearful,” he said, “‘For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind’ [2 Timothy 1:7].”1
I felt like he was speaking directly to me. I knew I didn’t want to keep feeling fear, doubt, and depression. But for the first time, I believed that God didn’t want me to feel those feelings either. Sure, there are challenges in mortality, but that didn’t mean I had to suffer forever. Through the strengthening power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I could have a “sound mind”—a mind that wasn’t broken by fear, depression, anxiety, or loneliness.
President Uchtdorf taught, “Rather than dwelling on the immensity of our challenges, would it not be better to focus on the infinite greatness, goodness, and absolute power of our God, trusting Him and preparing with a joyful heart for the return of Jesus the Christ?”2
Focusing on the goodness of God and trusting in Him didn’t mean I should have ignored my challenges and acted like everything was OK. But I could do my own part to find healing and progress. Choosing faith over fear meant moving forward with optimism, hope, and trust in the Lord.
So, I started working through the process of replacing my fear with faith. I realized how mentally damaging my dating relationship had been, and Heavenly Father gave me the strength to leave it behind. Even though I wasn’t healed completely, I felt like I should serve a mission. I submitted my papers, trusting that the Lord would prepare me. In the meantime, I studied everything I could find about Jesus Christ, trying to better understand how He could strengthen and heal me. As I talked to family and friends about my challenges and received professional help, my loneliness and depression started to fade.
As President Uchtdorf also taught: “As His covenant people, we need not be paralyzed by fear because bad things might happen. Instead, we can move forward with faith, courage, determination, and trust in God as we approach the challenges and opportunities ahead.”3
Now, years later, I’ve served a mission, married a man who cherishes me, graduated from college, and pursued a career that I love. My family returned from the mission in Uruguay, and we are closer than ever, even when challenges hit.
By holding on to faith instead of fear, my relationship with the Savior has been transformed. I no longer fear that my life will never get better. I truly know what it means to trust in Him and can testify that He has healed me emotionally and spiritually.
I don’t have all the answers for the future. I still fear many things, like the responsibilities of future callings or the challenge of raising children. But I know that when I trust in the Lord and choose faith over fear, I will always be led to hope and happiness.

I was assigned to depict the Resurrection for the Coimbatore District open house during the Easter season. I was worried a bit about it, though I was pretty good at art and other work. My confidence was low since the suggested topic was on the final week of the Savior’s mortal life for me to portray. I was led by the Spirit to pray and ask for the Lord’s help and inspiration. This verse from the Holy Bible came to my mind as an answer to my prayer. It was Jeremiah 33:3.
I went on making objects like a crown of thorns, nails and whip, I pricked my finger many times while collecting the thorns. The pain I had and the few drops of blood which came out of my fingers made me to realize the love of our Heavenly Father, especially His unconditional love which is greater than anybody could give or receive on this earth. I felt so grateful that Christ had paid the penalty for my sins and has given me a chance to repent and to return to him. My daughter Saritha, along with the branch young single adults, helped me put our thoughts into reality.
On making the tomb to depict the Resurrection of Christ, I felt even happier that I can have my body restored to their proper and perfect frame [see Alma 40:23]. The Atonement helps me to prepare myself to meet God and the Resurrection helps me to live again. I know Jesus Christ is my Savior and Redeemer. I love Him for who He is and what He did for me.

Scott Hall is an unusual young man. His father, Garth, is an assistant coach for the Brigham Young University football team.
Recently Scott asked his mother for a white shirt.
“But you have all of these other beautiful colored shirts. Why do you want a white shirt?” asked his mother.
“I just have to have a white shirt,” he said.
“But why?” his mother asked.
Scott replied, “I can’t be a missionary without a white shirt.”
Scott is two years old.

“As I was growing up in Provo, there was another boy my age in my grade at school. His name was Walt Hansen. He and I were great friends; there was a great bond between us. His family did not attend Church, but Walt came because of the influence of his friends who reached out to him. Years later he became a bishop in the Provo Sunset Ward, and I’ve often heard people say that Walt Hansen was the most kind and helpful bishop that they had ever known. I hope that you children will realize that you may be a good influence in the lives of your friends and help someone else discover the gospel.

Elder Russell M. Nelson: “When I was working at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, two professional colleagues, a husband and wife, asked me about the Mormons. I gave them a preliminary overview and lent them my Book of Mormon. After about a week they returned the book to me and said, ‘Thanks a lot.’

“I said, ‘What do you mean, “Thanks a lot?”’ As one who deeply loves this book, I felt that was an inadequate response. ‘Perhaps you didn’t really read the book,’ I said. ‘Please take it back and read it. When you have read it, I would very much appreciate knowing of your feelings and insight.’

“They retrieved the book, acknowledging that they had only thumbed the pages. About three weeks later they came back with tears in their eyes and said, ‘We know this book is true. How can we learn more?’

“Then I said, ‘Now I know you’ve read the book. Now we can proceed.’ In due course, they were baptized.

“The Book of Mormon has great convincing power as another witness for Jesus Christ. There is no other explanation for its existence than that which the Prophet Joseph Smith gave.”

I received my patriarchal blessing and was counseled to serve a mission because the Lord reserved a special blessing in my mission that would change my life forever. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I would understand in time if I was obedient.
I served in the Brazil Curitiba Mission from 2000 to 2002. Through my association with a particular companion, I was able to go to the United States to study. I knew this would indeed change my life forever. I knew my Heavenly Father was aware of me and had a specific plan for me. This opportunity to further my education was an answer to my prayers.
I knew that it would be challenging to learn a second language, but I also knew it was possible if I worked hard enough. I studied at the Brigham Young University English Language Center and spent up to 10 hours a day in the library. One of my teachers suggested we pray for the gift of tongues, so every night I prayed and asked Heavenly Father for this gift. He certainly helped me.
After I completed my studies at the English Language Center, I was accepted at several universities. I decided to attend Brigham Young University–Idaho and apply for the nursing program. I heard that it was very difficult to get into the program, especially for international students. So I studied my hardest. My friends teased me, saying I should move into the library because I spent so much time there. Even when it closed, I went home and kept studying.
When times were difficult, I remembered the words of President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008): “You need all the education you can get. Sacrifice a car; sacrifice anything that is needed to be sacrificed to qualify yourselves to do the work of the world.”1 I knew those were the words of a prophet of God, and I took them seriously.
When I was accepted to the nursing program, my heart filled with gratitude and happiness. I knew it would be hard and I would have to continue to make sacrifices, but I knew the Lord would be with me.
While in school, I met my husband, and we were married in 2007. My mother also joined the Church that year. She told me that she had never known why I was so happy, even with all the terrible things that had happened to us. But once she joined the Church, she understood. The gospel of Jesus Christ has blessed my family, and I’m happy to see my mother blessed after all the sacrifices she has made. I will always be grateful for her.
By the beginning of 2010, I was preparing for graduation—and was pregnant with our first child. Two months before I was to graduate from the nursing program, I had complications with my pregnancy, and our baby was born via cesarean section. My teachers told me I should take time off from school and graduate later. But I was so close—only two months away!
So my husband and I carefully organized our time so we could properly balance our priorities and I could complete my education. I scheduled my study time so I could give my husband and our son the attention they needed. Sometimes my husband’s parents stayed with our son while I was in class. Two great classmates helped me review class materials. I felt that the Lord had sent all of these people to support me through this difficult time.
After graduation I passed the state certification exam and started working as a nurse to help support our family while my husband completes his education. Even though I am not planning on working once my husband starts his career, if a tragedy or economic hardship requires me to work in the future, my education helps me feel prepared to do so.
Mom was right: education does have the capacity to change lives. It has changed mine, and it will change the lives of my children. I hope they will realize that I am successful because I followed the Lord’s plan for me. He wanted me to get an education, and He helped me every step of the way. I hope my children learn how to work like I did and that they come to value education as much as I do.

In the year 2015, the institute teacher Brother Suresh Natrajan asked the class, “How many went to temple?” As I had visited the temple in 2014, I raised my hand proudly. Then immediately he asked another question, “Do you remember how many covenants you have made in the temple?”
The first time I visited the temple in 2014, I had focused only on some things. After all these years, I recognized that I have forgotten the covenants that I made in the temple. At that very moment, I took a decision to go to temple for the second time, and this time to pay attention to and remember the covenants and other things that are essential for my salvation.

Mom, look!
“You’re invited to Dante’s birthday party!”
Can we go get Dante’s present now?
OK. But we don’t have much money for gifts.
Can we get this?
I’m sorry. We don’t have enough.
How about this?
Well, Dante does like candy bars …
Besides, your friendship is the best gift you can give.
Is a candy bar enough? Maybe it would be better if I didn’t go.
At the party …
Cool! Thanks, Hannah!
I LOVE these! Thank you, Ben!
Really?
Yeah, they’re my favorite!
Thanks for coming to my party! I’m glad we’re friends.
Mom was right! Friendship is the best gift of all.

My friends and I could hardly wait for the weekend to come so we could hit the ski slopes. We were 15 years old at the time and all good skiers.
One Saturday, we had been skiing for about half the day on some pretty steep slopes. The weather was crisp. The sky was blue. All around us there was beauty, and we were having fun on the ski jumps.
As we were coming down one of the jumps, my friend Chris slipped and fell on one of his skis. His bindings popped out, and he took a hard fall. Chris took off his glove, and we were both alarmed to see blood dripping from his arm. As Chris rolled up his sleeve, I could see that he was badly cut. I asked for one of our friends to find the ski patrol.
I helped Chris take off his sweater and removed my cotton shirt with long sleeves and made a tourniquet above the deep cut. At the same time I was prompted by the Holy Ghost to have Chris hold his arm up above his head.
The ski patrol finally arrived, but they did not know that Chris had cut a main artery in his arm because the tourniquet was so well placed that it had stopped the bleeding.
Chris was rushed to the hospital. When the doctors discovered the damage to the main artery, they said Chris would have bled to death if the tourniquet had not been placed on his arm the right way and his arm held above his head.
The accident had happened fast, so I had to act quickly. I told Chris that I had been prompted by the Spirit to do the right thing. I later realized I had also followed instructions from my first-aid training as an Eagle Scout.
That evening Chris’s parents called my home and thanked me for saving their son’s life. I hope to always remember to listen to the still, small voice that directed me at that crucial time.

After my senior season with the Cougars, I knew I was going to be drafted by an NFL team, and it turned out to be the Cincinnati Bengals. By the end of my second season I was starting in the Super Bowl. In my third year with the Bengals, I led the team in sacks. Everything seemed great. But for some reason, at the beginning of my fourth year, I was sitting on the bench.
It seemed the coaches wanted bigger guys playing the defensive line positions, leaving me to stand on the sidelines. I knew I wasn’t in Cincinnati’s long-range plans, and sure enough I was cut toward the end of fall camp. The 1991 season was about ready to begin and I was out of football. All the other NFL teams had their rosters finalized, so I had to wait and hope a team would pick me up.
This was another terrible period in my life. I knew I was still good enough to play, yet I wasn’t being given the chance. A few weeks into the season the Seattle Seahawks seemed interested in signing me to a contract. Instead, they took another guy, which was one of the hardest blows of my career.
I came back to my home in Utah not knowing what to do or what was going to happen. I wasn’t giving up, but I was really down. To take my mind off my situation, I went to play golf by myself. It was fall, in the middle of the week, and nobody was there playing. I was out on the back nine all by myself crying and thinking about what I was going to do. I stopped my cart and had a word of prayer.
When I finished, I went from tears and this distraught feeling to the most wonderful, calm feeling that told me everything was going to be okay. That Sunday, I got a phone call from the Washington Redskins. They told me they had some injured players and needed a replacement.
It was amazing. One day I was crying, and the next thing I knew I was playing for one of the best organizations in the NFL. I left behind the Cincinnati Bengals, who finished 3–13 in 1991, and went to the Redskins, who went on to win the Super Bowl. I finished my first Redskin season with 12 tackles, three quarterback hurries, and one and a half quarterback sacks. Plus I earned a Super Bowl ring. Things couldn’t have turned out better.

Let me tell you about two sister missionaries who called at a home one morning before the husband went to work. They were welcomed in, so they immediately told about Joseph Smith’s first vision, the angel Moroni, the gold plates, and the restoration of the priesthood. Then the senior companion, noting that about forty-five minutes had gone by, said, “We would like to return next week to tell you more.”

To which the husband exclaimed, “Next week?” He walked to the door, locked it, put the key in his pocket, and said, “You’re not leaving here till you’ve told us all you know about Joseph Smith and this restored gospel!” They were there all day. The family asked for baptism that same evening.

I decided it was finally time to read the many talks and scriptures our priesthood quorum leaders had asked us to read before camp. Glancing over all the material without much enthusiasm, I saw an article on repentance.
To a 15-year-old boy, the article was not particularly awe-inspiring. It seemed to simply reinforce what I heard in Sunday School on a regular basis. However, it was while reading the message that I realized I never really prayed with the kind of conviction described in the passage. I got off my bed where I had been reading, closed my door, knelt, and began to pray. I figured that I would lose nothing in the attempt.
Although my prayer began as somewhat of a rehearsed statement, I decided to stay on my knees until I felt like I had poured my heart out to my Heavenly Father. The longer I prayed, the more sincere my outpourings became. And when I was finished, I knew I had a Father who listened and cared, and I knew I had a purpose on this earth. For the first time in my life, I thought I had truly become a convert to the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
When the pressures of life become overwhelming, I think of those few minutes when I felt so connected to my Father in Heaven. I can still feel that same closeness when I devote myself to prayer, go to the temple, and especially when I perform service in His name. I love this gospel of Jesus Christ.

I love to read books that show temples from around the world. When I had a friend ask me about temples, I knew that my explanation wasn’t enough to help her understand. So I brought my books on temples and showed her what the temple is, the purpose of the temple, and how thankful we are to visit the temple. I decided to invite her to church on Sunday, where the missionaries and Sunday School teachers could help her learn more.
Jessica A., age 18, Indonesia

I was raised in a place where the Church was not well known—a town now called Berkh, in northern Mongolia. I am the middle child of three boys, and growing up, we were together all the time. When my older brother went to the city to go to school, I missed him a lot. Two years later he came home for his summer vacation. That summer our family went hunting for three months in the rocky hills. It was one of the best summer vacations of my life.
My brother started telling me about a church he had joined called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At that time I didn’t like Christian churches, so I didn’t pay much attention to what he was telling me.
One autumn day we arrived home from hunting to discover some visitors from the city. They were from the Church that my brother had been talking about. He returned to the city with them that night. Later we heard why he had left: he had received a mission call. He hadn’t even told us he had sent in his application! My older brother left for his mission to the United States of America soon after.
The next year, when I finished high school, I went to the city to attend a university. The family I stayed with turned out to be members of the Church. On Sunday morning they invited me to come to church with them. Since I’d heard a lot about this Church, I decided that I would try going once.
I ended up attending church many times. I couldn’t help but feel peaceful every time I was there. People there were nice, always shaking hands with me. The Church was different from what I had thought. Soon I started taking discussions from the missionaries. I met with the missionaries for almost two years.
I knew I wanted to be baptized, but my baptism had to be postponed because of my struggles with the Word of Wisdom. It was difficult for me, but eventually I was ready for baptism. I was fortunate to be baptized by my older brother, who had returned from his mission only months earlier. When I remember that moment now, I cry sometimes. It was the happiest moment of my life.
After I joined the Church, my brother talked about missionary work almost every day. He always encouraged me to go on a mission. With his help, I filled out my mission application. I will never forget how happy my older brother and I were then.
One evening my brother called me to come and meet with him after work. He wanted to talk with me about some things relating to my mission. We set a time to meet at the central square.
Around this time parliamentary elections were happening in Mongolia. When we met at the central square, citizens were holding a demonstration because of the election. Police were there, but the demonstration was getting violent and scary, escalating into a riot. A big building and several cars were on fire, and people were screaming. It was frightening.
My brother and I had met far away from the demonstration, but he was worried. He gave me money for a taxi and told me to go straight home. He told me that I would see him the next day. He planned to go back to his home, which was close to where he worked. The taxi arrived, and we said a quick good-bye before I drove away.
I soon found out that the government had closed all the roads because of the rioting. Unable to get to my home, which was in the outskirts of the city, I spent the night at work instead. Armored cars and armed soldiers were everywhere. The fighting worsened, and that night a state of emergency was called. It lasted for four days.
When the state of emergency ended, my brother-in-law came to pick me up. We got to his home to find all our relatives waiting there. They were all crying. I learned that my older brother had been shot as he was walking home.
My heart felt like it was going to burst. My brother died when he was 24 because of that demonstration. The days following my brother’s death were among the most horrible of my life.
It was during this difficult time that I received my mission call. After having been through my conversion, baptism, and mission paper preparation with my brother, I was left to open my mission call alone. To my surprise, I was called to serve in my own country.
Since I was alone, I knelt down right there and thanked my Heavenly Father in prayer. And I prayed for my brother. I cried and cried while I prayed. At this time, when there was so much hurt and loneliness in my heart, I felt the Spirit witness of the plan of salvation more deeply to me, and my faith was strengthened.
Left to right: Amarsanaa and his brothers, Dorjsuren and Amarsaikhan
Even though my brother was not there to open my mission call with me, I will always be grateful to him. I am also very grateful that God has given us the plan of salvation through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It is the most amazing plan. If we follow this plan, we will feel peace in our hearts.
The scriptures tell us: “O how great the plan of our God! For … the paradise of God must deliver up the spirits of the righteous, and the grave deliver up the body of the righteous; and the spirit and the body is restored to itself again, and all men become incorruptible, and immortal, and they are living souls” (2 Nephi 9:13).
I know that my brother is alive in the spirit world. This knowledge gives me the confidence I need to do well on my mission. I know he will be with me during the difficult times—and so will the Lord.

In 1856, Julia and Emily Hill, sisters who had joined the Church as teenagers in England and been disowned by their family, had finally earned passage for their way to America and had almost reached their longed-for Zion. They were crossing the American plains with the Willie handcart company when they and many others were stranded on the trail by an early October storm. Sister Deborah Christensen, a great-granddaughter of Julia Hill, experienced this touching dream about them. She said:
“I could see Julia and Emily stranded in the snow on the windy summit of Rocky Ridge with the rest of the Willie handcart company. They had no heavy clothing to keep them warm. Julia was sitting in the snow, shaking. She could not carry on. Emily, who was freezing as well, knew that if she did not help Julia stand up, Julia would die. As Emily wrapped her arms around her sister to help her up, Julia began to cry—but no tears came, only soft whimpering sounds. Together they walked slowly to their handcart. Thirteen died that terrible night. Julia and Emily survived.”
Sisters, without each other, these women probably would not have lived. In addition, they helped others survive this devastating portion of the journey, including a young mother and her children. It was Emily Hill Woodmansee who later wrote the beautiful words to the song “As Sisters in Zion.” The verse “We’ll comfort the weary and strengthen the weak” takes on new meaning when you imagine her experience on the snow-packed plains.

I first heard of Jose and Juana Yefi and their seven children from President Julio Otay when, as a regional representative, I visited the Puerto Montt Stake. From his accounts of the Yefis and their experiences in the Church, I decided I wanted to meet them. They are members of the Estacion Ward, but to make the journey to the Yefi home is much more complicated than just walking down the street from the meetinghouse located in Puerto Vardas. It’s a three-part adventure by bus, boat, and horse. President Otay and I decided to make the journey September 17 and 18, during a national holiday in Chile.
When we set out from Puerto Varas, it was a beautiful morning announcing the arrival of spring in that part of the world. For the first part of our journey, we traveled ninety minutes by bus to Petrohue on the shore of Todos los Santos Lake. Our bus wended its way around the southern shore of Llanquihue Lake with the cone of the majestic volcano Mount Osorno as a backdrop. We planned to take the regularly-scheduled boat across Todos los Santos Lake, but we were told it had departed early loaded with tourists. So we rented a private boat—which happened to be owned by Brother Yefi’s cousin—for the three-hour trip. For those three hours we enjoyed the natural beauty around us. The lake, also known as “Emerald Lake” for the color of its waters, sparkled in the sunshine, and to our right rose the magnificent Monte Tronador Mountains. It was a wonderful way to celebrate a national holiday, and I thanked my Heavenly Father for my having been born in such a beautiful country.
When we arrived at the point where we were supposed to meet Brother Yefi, he wasn’t there. We discovered that he had been waiting for us at the other end of the lake at a small dock where the tourist boat pulled in. While he crossed the lake in his boat to meet us, we visited with the Miranda family, who lived close to the lake. Jose Miranda, Brother Yefi’s brother-in-law, and his family are members of the Church as a result of the Yefi family’s missionary work. I’ll tell more about them later.
Brother Yefi finally arrived and upon meeting this man of obvious Lamanite descent, with his sincere smile and shining eyes, I felt a definite kinship.
We set out on the last part of our journey to the Yefi home—two hours by horseback around and through thick forests of coigue, laurel, tepu, and ulmo trees. As we rode, we were serenaded by the sound of the Sin Nombre River hurrying downhill to the lake.
Finally we arrived in the El Callao Valley, where the Yefi family lives in complete seclusion. As we got off our horses, the children excitedly greeted us. At first I assumed that they were thrilled to see visitors. But I soon realized that their excitement was for their father, whom they hugged as if they hadn’t seen him for a long time. Sensing a special bond between father and children, I later learned that Brother Yefi himself had delivered five of his seven children into the world.
Springtime had reached this high mountain valley, with a profusion of yellow flowers outside the Yefi’s wood frame home. Inside, a sign in the dining room proclaimed, “Our Goal is to Build an Eternal Family.” As we visited with the Yefis that evening, I learned about the roots of their faith in the gospel.
Brother Yefi told us how he was introduced to the Church.
“Since I was a child,” he said, “I had suffered from nosebleeds. One time, after I was married, I suffered a nosebleed so severe that I fainted and had hallucinations. When I recovered, I thought I had gone on to the next life. But I was glad to see my wife by my side taking care of me.
“I decided to go to see a doctor in Puerto Varas. While I was at a friend’s house, he told me that two young men lived nearby who ‘cured’ people in the name of the Lord. Since I have always been a faithful man, I went to see them and asked them how much they charged for a blessing. The young men, who stood out because of their white shirts, told me, ‘We don’t charge money to bless one of our brothers. If you have faith that you will be healed with the blessing we give you, it will be the Lord who will really cure you.’
“They then invited me to sit down, but I told them, ‘I don’t feel comfortable when I’m sitting down. I would feel better kneeling.’ The missionaries put their hands on my head and gave me a blessing. The experience was marvelous. I felt warm all over my body, and I had no doubt that it was God’s power curing me. Never again did I have a nosebleed.
“After this experience, I asked the missionaries what I had to do to become a member of their Church. They asked me if I was married. I told them yes, and we made an appointment to meet together with my wife the following Sunday. The missionaries presented the first discussion, and then they asked us to return the next week for the second discussion. But I told them that because of the distance involved, I wanted them to baptize us then. So we received all the discussions and were baptized the same day, 28 September 1979.
“It’s a long distance between our home and the church, but we attended Sunday meetings as often as possible. On one of our visits, I was interviewed by the branch president to be ordained to the Aaronic priesthood.”
President Otay, who was Brother Yefi’s branch president at that time, challenged him to pay tithing and prepare himself to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. A few months after the interview, on a rainy, wet day, Brother Yefi appeared and asked to speak with the president about paying his first tithing donation. President Otay invited him to come in, but Brother Yefi said that he had his tithing outside—three sacks of potatoes.
Imagine this brother’s faithfulness in keeping the Lord’s commandments! He had transported three sacks of potatoes by horseback, boat, bus, and then wagon to the church.
Listening to Brother Yefi testify of the law of tithing is a special experience. “Before leaving home to bring our tithing to the bishop,” he said, “I pray to Heavenly Father to bless me that I might be honest. I would not like to have the feeling that I have stolen what really belongs to Him.”
Brother Yefi testified that the Lord has greatly blessed his family for obeying the law of tithing. At the time he was baptized, he said, he had only the minimum of necessities to sustain his family—a team of oxen which he used to plow the earth, a horse, and a few goats and sheep. But, he said with great reverence, since learning the gospel and paying his tithing, “We have been greatly blessed. I have horses, goats, sheep, and nine milking cows that give us enough milk to feed our children and to make cheese to sell. And we sow and harvest our own wheat. We are very blessed!”
As a part of the Yefis’ goal of building an eternal family, they have eagerly shared the gospel with their extended family members. Brother Yefi’s father, Prudencio Yefi Calbucan, was the first relative to listen to the gospel message. Next his brother, Segundo Prudencio Yefi Aguilar, his brother’s wife, Maria Isabel de Yefi, and one of their daughters became interested. Then his brother-in-law, Jose Nolberto Miranda Diaz—who we had met at the lakeshore—his wife, Maria Francisca de Miranda, his oldest son Juan Heriberto Miranda Yefi, and two younger daughters wanted to learn more.
Brother Yefi taught them all the missionary discussions. Then they all made the journey to Puerto Varas to be interviewed by the full-time missionaries. After the interviews, Brother Yefi baptized them. He also challenged them to receive the temple endowments which he and Sister Yefi had already done. (The Mirandas’ oldest son was serving in the Chile Vina del Mar Mission at the time of our visit.)
On the second day of our visit, Sunday, President Otay authorized Brother Yefi to conduct regular church services in his home, except when the family journeys to Puerta Varas to pay tithing to the bishop.
We joined the Yefis, with their relatives, in Sunday School and sacrament service—eighteen members altogether.
Brother Yefi taught a lesson from the book of Moroni. As he read from chapters six and seven about baptisms, fellowshipping and preaching by the power of the Holy Ghost, tears rolled down our checks.
When the lesson was finished, we sang a hymn. Even without a piano or a knowledge of music, the Yefi family sang with a spirit that compensated for any wrong notes. Then Brother Yefi asked the visitors to speak.
When it was my turn to speak, I told them, “I realize that you are eager to learn from anything I might say, but I can assure you that from this visit I have learned more from you than what you can learn from me.”
As I told the Yefi family good-by later that day, I thought about the lessons I had learned from them. I learned about being faithful to the Lord in every circumstance. I learned that although a great distance separated the Yefis from the church meetinghouse, there was no distance between them and the Lord. Many of us who have dozens of neighbors around us do not share the gospel, yet the Yefis have taught, fellowshipped, and baptized their nearest neighbors and relatives.
From the Yefis, I learned about making the temple a priority. Many of us who have relatively easy access to a temple make one excuse after another for not attending. The Yefis have already traveled a great distance to Santiago to be sealed in the temple. And whenever they can make the journey to that city, the temple is their first priority.
I left the beautiful El Callao Valley strengthened in my own testimony of the gospel and in my commitment to obey the Lord. The Yefis’ influence for good has reached beyond the isolation of their mountain home.

I used to like being tall. Then I got to junior high school. I became very self-conscious about my height and consequently my weight. I always felt fat and out of shape in gym because I was more awkward than everyone else. I wasn’t skinny growing up, but I wasn’t fat either. I was just big. Polite people would tell me I had large bones.
My senior year in high school I became obsessed with my weight because the senior choir I was in had a show-choir program at the end of the year where we sang and danced to Broadway tunes. We learned dances for all of our songs, and I was taller than every boy in choir. Because I was taller, I felt bigger too. I felt I couldn’t eat in front of anyone because they’d think I was too big already. Somehow I survived that experience. But my weight issues weren’t over.
During my third year of college I got sick. Not just the flu-for-a-couple-of-weeks sick. I couldn’t get better.
I was finally diagnosed with a chronic illness. The doctor gave me medications that were supposed to help, but this was a really bleak and depressing time for me.
It was then I noticed my clothes getting tighter, but I figured that was because I was sleeping all the time. I hardly ever walked to class. I knew as soon as I started to feel better, I’d be up and about on campus again.
After several months, I started feeling better and walked to campus regularly. But the weight kept coming. I even popped the zipper on my pants one day at work.
My doctor discovered that one of the medications had made my body hold onto the fat. I stopped taking it, but the damage was already done.
I hated looking in a mirror. I hated buying clothes. I hated running into people I knew before I got sick. I hated myself. I was stuck in a downward spiral of self-loathing. I was also struggling to accept the fact I couldn’t do everything I used to do. I simply didn’t have the health to do everything anymore. I hated this body I had that hurt all the time and kept getting sick. I felt I was stuck with a fat, ugly, sick body.
We hear all the time in Young Women that our bodies are temples. And one day I had a flash of understanding. It didn’t matter if my body was fat or skinny, it was a temple. I’ve never heard anyone make fun of the way the temples look, so why do we do that to our personal temples—our bodies? I realized that every time I felt bad about my body, I was being ungrateful for and disrespectful to a temple. I remembered that one-third of the hosts of heaven didn’t even get mortal bodies.
I thought of the scripture in the New Testament, when devils begged the Savior to let them enter the bodies of swine, just to have a body (see Mark 5:1–13). I was blessed with a physical body to house my spirit while I’m on this earth, a body patterned after my Heavenly Father’s.
Since that realization, I haven’t miraculously felt like my body is perfect. It’s hard to change old habits and perceptions. Instead of wishing I had someone else’s body, I try to remember that my body is a temple.
Recently I was able to go to the temple and receive my endowment. In the celestial room with my family and friends. I noticed mirrors opposite each other that reflect forever, representing eternity. One of the things I will always remember and cherish is in that room I felt beautiful. It wasn’t a turn-someone’s-head pretty. I just felt beautiful. I knew the Lord didn’t care what size dress I wore. He cared that I was clean and worthy. I had kept my own temple pure. In those mirrors I could appreciate what a beautiful gift my body was.
I am not stuck with my body; I am blessed with it.

Whenever the family of Joseph Smith, Sr., saw their father feel for the eyeglasses he carried in his vest pocket they knew it was time for the evening devotional; by custom, each day in their home ended with song, prayer, and Bible reading. Father Smith conducted, read from the Bible, and prayed. However, shortly after the initial visits of Moroni to the young Prophet Joseph in September 1823, these family gatherings took on according to the Prophet’s mother an exceptional aspect. She wrote:
“From this time forth, Joseph continued to receive instructions from the Lord, and we continued to get the children together every evening, for the purpose of listening while he [told us] of the same. I presume our family presented an aspect as [unusual] as any that ever lived upon the face of the earth—all seated in a circle, father, mother, sons, and daughters, and giving the most profound attention to a boy, eighteen years of age. …
“During our evening conversations, Joseph would occasionally give us some of the most amusing recitals [reports] that could be imagined. He would describe the ancient inhabitants of this continent, their dress, mode of traveling, and the animals upon which they rode; their cities, their buildings, with every particular; their mode of warfare; and also their religious worship. This he would do with as much ease, seemingly, as if he had spent his whole life with them.”

Gene has learned a lot about aiming high by following the example of his mother.
“When she was 16 she contracted polio. Doctors said she’d never walk again, or that if she did walk, she’d never have children. But she worked her way from braces to crutches to a cane. And she went ahead and had four sons. I’m the youngest.”
Even though his mom is currently confined to a wheelchair, the doctors are now saying she should be able to walk again.