Gospel Story Finder

Not long ago I participated in a two-week training program on religion and the rule of law in China. The students in the class were professors, graduate students, religious leaders, judges, and government officials from all over China. The faculty members consisted of about a dozen law professors and judges from eight or ten different countries. We had invited Judge Clifford Wallace, an emeritus chief judge of the U.S. Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, to participate.

Judge Wallace has visited China at least once a year since 1974 and is well known throughout the country. He joined the Church as a young adult and has served as a stake president and temple president in San Diego.

One of the students asked Judge Wallace what his religious beliefs were and how they affected his work as a judge.

Judge Wallace answered with the textbook answer I have heard from many U.S. judges—that his religious beliefs do not affect his work as a judge because he has taken an oath to uphold and follow the Constitution and the laws of the United States.

The student pressed, asking, “But what are your personal religious beliefs?”

Judge Wallace answered in a way that made a deep impression on me. “I’m a Mormon,” he said, “a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” He paused for a moment and then continued: “And I’m a believing and faithful member of my church. I really believe it. I don’t just believe part of it or believe it some of the time. I believe all of it all of the time. It teaches me that we are all created in the image of God and that we are all His children. It teaches me that I have to love and show respect to everyone.”

As for interpreting tongues, on an occasion when the Prophet was subpoenaed and was leaving to attend the trial, he was met at the door by a sister named Sarah Cleveland, who spoke to him. The Prophet listened intently. When she was through, he said, “You need not fear for me, as Sister Cleveland says I shall have my trial and be acquitted.”64 She had spoken in tongues and prophesied. He was tried, and he was acquitted.

The group entered a beautiful basin where snow-fed lakes connected by small waterfalls descended like huge stairsteps. The trail faded and disappeared altogether as it led across flat, slick rock. By this time, the girls were gaining confidence and, instead of following the lead horse, they spread out in groups of twos or threes, picking their own ways across the rock. But they soon found that taking off on their own didn’t always work well. What looked like a good way to go often led to the edge of cliffs or into an impossible thicket of trees that forced them to turn back and retrace their routes.
A forest ranger had gone over the trail before and had marked the best way across the slick rock with small pyramids of stone. These markers, or cairns as they are called, were easy to spot and if followed led safely across the section where the trail was obliterated. The girls found they could not rely on their own instincts or observations to select a good path. They found they had to trust the one who had gone on before to show them the best way. The girls started talking about following the cairns. “This is like our leaders giving us lessons about how to live our lives,” said one. “Yes,” said another catching on to the symbolism, “it’s like learning to follow the prophet. By listening to him, we can follow the right trail even when we can’t see where it leads.”

Let me share with you a recent experience that has blessed my life. About six months ago, I noticed a woman sitting in Sunday School in my ward. I had never seen her before. I was prompted to go sit by her during Relief Society. We introduced ourselves as the meeting began. A few minutes later, she turned to me with a somewhat scared look in her eyes and said: "I haven't been to Church in years. I have been free of alcohol and drugs for ten months." I patted her hand and told her I was glad she was in church. A few minutes later she said, "I usually feel so uncomfortable in Church, but I have loved the meetings today." I again reassured her that she was in the right place. At the end of the meeting, she asked me if she could give me a call in the coming week. I gave her my number and we said our good-byes. Monday came—no call. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday came—no call. Finally on Friday afternoon, I received a phone call from her. She told me how hard it had been to get the courage to call me. It was the Friday before General Conference, and I invited her to attend the Sunday morning session with me. It was a wonderful experience for both of us. She was touched deeply by the music of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and particularly the conference messages on the Atonement. She was very emotional when President Monson stopped on his way out and waved to the large congregation in the Conference Center. He was right in front of the section in which she was sitting. She said, "I felt like he was looking right at me and knew I was there."

The journey back has been challenging for her. It has taken a variety of people to help her get back on the path to eternal life. She has had to give up her addictions, which has been incredibly difficult. She sought help from Alcoholics Anonymous. She needed a wave from a prophet of God to help her know of her worth in the sight of God. She needed a friend to encourage her to keep coming to Church. She has reconnected with her parents and siblings. Words can't describe the joy they are experiencing in having their daughter back. She needs a bishop to help her through the repentance process. She needs to give up her old friends and find new friends who will help her live the gospel of Jesus Christ.

As I was preparing this talk, I received a text message from her that demonstrates her need for righteous relationships in her life. It said: "I just wanted to say hi and I'm really excited. Kathy, the Relief Society President, called me today and invited me to a homemaking night at Church next week. Also, I wanted to tell you something they tell us in Alcoholics Anonymous: ‘What I can't do by myself, WE can do together.' Thanks for being my ‘WE'. "

One of my friend's concerns is that she has lost so much time in learning about the gospel. WE are learning about the gospel TOGETHER to give her a basic understanding of gospel truths. She will be better and I will be better because WE are helping each other. It's all about relationships!

On the day my friend and I went to general conference, I shared with her the Virtue Value Experiences and Project. Most sincerely she asked me, "Do you think I can ever be a virtuous woman?" With confidence I told her, "Yes!" It will take, however, the redeeming power of the Atonement for that to be possible. It will take a "mighty change of heart." It will take a repentance process that is not easy and it will take time—but it can be done. I'm happy to report that she is on her way, but she also needs the enabling power of the Atonement to become that virtuous woman. This enabling power will give her the "strength and assistance" from our Savior to become that virtuous woman and stay on the path to eternal life. I have witnessed this enabling power in my life and in the lives of others.

The last colorful rays of the setting sun had faded into the western horizon, and the dark of the night was beginning to settle down over the desert. My father and I were finishing our evening meal and making plans for the night and the next day.
Father was a large, strong man with a kind heart, and he was happy to have his oldest son with him on this trip. We were going to drive 500 sheep we had just purchased to their new home on the other side of the 85-mile-wide desert. In the desert there was little water, and the days would be hot and the nights cool. The plan was to drive the sheep in the cool of the night and allow them to rest during the heat of the day. We hoped that by doing this the sheep could go without water for three days. Arriving on the other side of the desert, they would be met by a wagon loaded with barrels of water for the thirsty sheep. Our own drinking water for the journey was carried in a ten-gallon milk can in the back of our Model T touring car.
My father was a gentle and considerate man, and he said to me, “I’ll drive the sheep tonight while you sleep. After you awaken in the morning, eat your breakfast, gather up our camp gear, pack it in the car, and then drive down the trail until you catch up with me and the sheep.”
Everything went as planned. Father drove the sheep through the night into the desolate area. When I awakened the next morning, I ate a hurried breakfast and packed the car. As I drove the Model T along the uncertain wagon trail in the desert, it was difficult to see signs of Father and the sheep, and their trail was especially hard to follow through some of the rocky areas. Still, everything went pretty well for the first few miles until there was a fork in the road. I wished Father were there to tell me which road to take. Finally, I decided to take the better road on the right. I drove along without incident for some miles until I came to a deep washout. There the road faded out completely.
Without a map or road signs, fear gripped my heart. I am lost! I thought. What shall I do? Then I remembered the words of my Scout leader: “If you are lost, stop and wait. Then give some kind of a warning signal.”
I took the old 44-40 rifle from the car and fired three quick shots into the air, praying that Father would hear; then I waited and prayed and waited some more.
After what seemed like such a long time, I saw Father in the distance, running toward me and waving his arms! It wasn’t long after that wonderful meeting until we were safely home with the sheep. How relieved and thankful I was for a father who cared and who could show me the right way to go.
I have taken many journeys since that one across the desert, some filled with hazards and important decisions. How grateful I am that we all have a real and loving Father, a Heavenly Father to whom we can call when there are two roads and no road signs to guide the way.

Representatives from 93 nations attended the conference in Montreal to which youth were invited. Of the approximately 80 young people in attendance from countries around the world, Syndi was one of only a handful of girls. She also had the distinction of being the youngest in attendance.
“It was great,” she says with excitement, “except I don’t speak French, and they kept serving me wine. Someone finally told me to turn my glass upside down, and I wouldn’t be served.”

I was 37 years old when I was sealed to my husband in the Salt Lake Temple. My single years presented many unique challenges. I had always thought that I would be married and have children by age 25, but I found myself in circumstances that were far different from my plans.
Many times I found myself looking down at the pavement, focusing on me and my circumstances. My perspective was narrow. Life seemed hard and unfair. I became discouraged. I lost my self-confidence.
I remember a significant point in my life when, like the sons of Mosiah, I looked to the Lord. I had always remained active in the Church and had a “knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4; 2 Timothy 3:7), but I desired more. I made the decision to be more diligent in my scripture study, to be more prayerful, and to live more worthy of the guidance of the Spirit. I longed to be an “instrument in the hands of God,” as were the sons of Mosiah.
It “took courage to go forth” (Alma 17:12) and look for new opportunities. I set professional goals and enrolled in a graduate program to improve my job situation. I chose to move from a singles ward into a family ward. I became involved, attending family picnics and dinners and programs for adults. I joined the ward choir. I came to know the bishop well. He was a wise and caring man who extended callings to me that blessed my life.
Through visiting teaching and Relief Society activities, I became friends with many women, and they often included me in their family activities. But I didn’t wait to be included; I looked for opportunities to be included. I volunteered to watch their children, and I invited their families to dinner. Their children became my children.
I also realized that the best place to love and be loved is within your own family. My brother had three children, and I became interested in their lives, schoolwork, and activities.
Because I was contributing, my self-confidence improved, and I found life to be more interesting and fulfilling as I looked to the Lord. Just as I saw the trees, flowers, birds, and people along the path when I looked up on Wan Chai Gap, looking to the Lord helped me see new opportunities for my life.
As I continue to look to the Lord, I recognize that He expands my limited, mortal vision to an eternal perspective. Through answers to prayers, I have learned that the Lord knows me, loves me, and is aware of me and of my circumstances. This knowledge has given me the faith that He will continue to help me meet future trials and challenges as I look to Him for opportunities and “choose righteousness and happiness, no matter what [my] circumstances.”

s I was leaving a department store one day, I found a wad of cash on the ground next to our car. I grabbed it and showed my mom. We counted the money. It was about $480.
I thought of all the things I could get with that much money. However, I thought someone must really need it.
We decided to go back into the store and ask the workers to announce the license plate number of the car next to ours over the loudspeaker. Eventually a lady with small kids came to the front of the store. My mom asked her if she’d lost anything. The lady quickly checked her pockets and said she’d apparently lost some money—nearly $500. She seemed very distressed. My mom handed her the stack of cash. The lady was so thankful and wanted to know where it was found, so my mom explained that I had found it on the ground near her car door. The lady was so thankful to me for being honest that she wanted to give me $20.
It would’ve been nice to have the $20, but I felt good about letting her keep it. In For the Strength of Youth it says, “Be honest with yourself, others, and God at all times” ([2011], 19). That means to choose not to lie, steal, cheat, or deceive in any way. It also says, “When you are honest, you build strength of character that will allow you to be of great service to God and others” (19). Being honest made me feel good; I’m glad Iwas able to help this woman.

At this critical point in her life, Minerva had two experiences that took her out of the art world. The first experience crystallized her desire for life with a family—specifically, for life with Herman. In a testimony meeting she was listening to a sister speak on the joys of marriage and motherhood. “I thought of all the men I had met in my search for ‘the right one,’” wrote Minerva later. At that moment, she realized that “back on the Idaho desert, herding his cattle and branding his calves was a man more nearly meant for me than anyone else in the world” (unpublished autobiographical sketch, 1937, transcription from handwritten manuscript). Never one to doubt her own judgment, Minerva returned home to Idaho and married Herman.

Then the merchant told his story. “I was once a farmer and had a strange tree on my farm. The tree had only a few barren branches but no leaves. One day I noticed that three fruits appeared on the branches. The fruits grew bigger and bigger until each was about the size of a barrel. I cut the fruits open and found a young man in each of them. I made them all work for me on the farm. But one day the young men ran away because they didn’t like the hard work.”

At this point the merchant pointed his finger at the three brothers and said, “I know you are the ones who ran away from my farm. I’m taking you back to the farm today.”
At once the three lazy brothers jumped up and cried, “No, no, we are not from your farm! We don’t believe your story!”
The merchant looked at them and smiled. “Have you forgotten your promise? You don’t believe my story; therefore you shall be my servants.”
The chief judge declared that the merchant had won the contest, and the three lazy brothers became servants of the merchant.

When we were children, a line on the ground had special significance. Whenever boyhood tempers caused disagreement, the time-honored solution called for a line on the ground. The antagonists stood on opposite sides of the line, attempting to act as intimidating as possible. Someone would say, “Step over the line and you’ll be sorry,” though they usually didn’t say it in those genteel words. In those moments I learned the great value of a line on the ground and the consequences of stepping over it. In the years that have followed, I have come to understand that figurative lines on the ground are placed there by a loving Heavenly Father who seeks to protect us from Lucifer’s army. While each of us may have dozens of lines on the ground in our life today, I would like to discuss just one of them—the line that says, “Keep each person’s name safe in your home.”

During the early years of my service as a General Authority, I was privileged to be in company with Elder Marion D. Hanks on one occasion when he related the following story. I use it here with his permission:

Oscar Kirkham was one of the great men of the Church and among the Church’s most respected Scouters. He served in the First Council of the Seventy and was a significant presence wherever he went. Often in meetings he would rise to a “point of personal privilege” and then, when recognized, would proceed to say something good about someone. Near the end of his life, he spoke briefly at Brigham Young University on the theme “say the good word.” On the morning that Elder Kirkham died, Elder Hanks was invited to the Kirkham family home. There he was handed a small, inexpensive notebook in which Elder Kirkham had kept his notes. The last two entries were: “Say the good word” and “Your name is safe in our home” (see Marion D. Hanks, foreword to Say the Good Word, by Oscar A. Kirkham [1958], 4).

What a blessing it would be if all of us could follow that counsel, if each of our names truly could be safe in the home of others. Have you noticed how easy it is to cross over the line and find fault with other people? All too often we seek to be excused from the very behavior we condemn in others. Mercy for me, justice for everyone else is a much too common addiction. When we deal with the name and reputation of another, we deal with something sacred in the sight of the Lord.

There are those among us who would recoil in horror at the thought of stealing another person’s money or property but who don’t give a second thought to stealing another person’s good name or reputation.

The old adage “Never judge another man until you have walked a mile in his footsteps” is as good advice today as it was the day it was first uttered. Someone once said:
There is so much good in the worst of us,
And so much bad in the best of us,
That it ill behooves any of us
To find fault with the rest of us.
[In Hazel Felleman, sel., The Best Loved Poems of the American People (1936), 615]

The principle is not new, nor is it unique to our day and time. The book of Psalms from the Old Testament contains this urgent warning from the Lord: “Whoso privily slandereth his neighbour, him will I cut off” (Ps. 101:5).

James, a servant of the Lord in the meridian of time, repeated this eternal truth when he said: “Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law. …
“… Who art thou that judgest another?” (James 4:11–12).

And in this latter day, the Lord renewed His long-taught command in a revelation given through the prophet Brigham Young: “Cease to speak evil one of another” (D&C 136:23).

It is most significant to me that this simple commandment is set forth just a few verses from the Lord’s words on the penalty for disobedience: “Be diligent in keeping all my commandments, lest judgments come upon you, and your faith fail you, and your enemies triumph over you” (D&C 136:42).

To those who doubt the importance of the commandment, may I pose two simple questions: (1) How can you say you love your fellowman when behind his back you seek to diminish his good name and reputation? (2) How can you say you love your God when you cannot even love your neighbor?

Any feeble attempt to justify such conduct only brings more forcibly to mind those explosive words of the Savior found in the book of Matthew:
“O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? …
“But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.
“For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned” (Matt. 12:34, 36–37).

I would like to say a few words to the Primary children who may be listening. Children, I’ve been trying to teach your moms and dads something very important, but I need your help. I’ll make you a deal. If you will promise to listen very carefully, I promise not to talk very long.

Do you remember the story of Bambi, the little deer, and all of his friends in the forest? If you do, you will remember that one of Bambi’s good friends was a rabbit named Thumper. Thumper was about your age. He was a neat rabbit, but he had one problem. He kept saying bad things about people. One day Bambi was in the forest learning to walk, and he fell down. Thumper just couldn’t resist the temptation. “He doesn’t walk very good, does he?” Thumper blurted out. His mother felt very bad and said, “What did your father tell you this morning?” And then Thumper, looking down at his feet and kind of shifting his weight, said, “If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.” That’s a good piece of advice that all of us need to follow. What I need you to do, young people, is this. If you hear anyone in your family start to say something bad about someone else, will you please just stamp your foot and say in a loud voice, “If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.” Now, even though that isn’t correct English, everyone will understand exactly what you mean. Now, Moms and Dads, that ought to make it a little easier to live the commandment.

I pray that the Lord will bless each of us that we may never cross over the line on the ground and that we may live so that it can be said, “Your name is safe in our home.”

Here is an inspiring story that demonstrates how one family made peacemaking a family affair, putting these principles into practice.
Children in this family were struggling in their relationship with an adult whose demeanor was often grumpy, condescending, and curt. The children, hurt and frustrated, began to wonder if the only way forward was to mirror that same mean-spirited behavior.
One evening the family spoke openly together about the tension and the toll it was taking. And then an idea emerged—not just a solution but an experiment.
Instead of responding with silence or retaliation, the children would do something unexpected: they would respond with kindness. Not just polite restraint but a deliberate, heartfelt outpouring of kind words and thoughtful deeds, no matter how they were treated in return. All agreed to try it for a set time, after which they’d regroup and reflect.
Though some were hesitant at first, they committed to the plan with genuine hearts.
What happened next was nothing short of remarkable.
The cold exchanges began to thaw. Smiles replaced scowls. The adult, once distant and harsh, began to change. The children, empowered by their choice to lead with love, found joy in the transformation. The change was so profound that the planned follow-up meeting was never needed. Kindness had done its quiet work.
In time, true bonds of friendship were formed, lifting everyone. To be peacemakers, we forgive others and deliberately build others up instead of tearing them down.

A most touching letter was received recently from a mother expressing her appreciation for her bishop and for a social services worker who had provided assistance in her family. May I quote from that letter:
“The summer will be remembered as ‘the best thing that has happened to Roseanne and David to date’!
“As you know, life has presented both children with special problems, and my heart has ached as I have seen David withdraw from social situations, and Roseanne offend and lose friends in her effort to make them.
“There are those who can help with their physical problems—therapy for a boy and medication to help calm a hyperactive daughter—but where could I turn to find someone to understand and help with the resulting emotional problems?
“When my bishop suggested LDS day camp I thought, ‘Good! This will be a good summer for them and will solve my baby-sitting problem, since it is necessary for me to work.’ Those two benefits would have made me feel the money invested was worthwhile—but they were just the beginning. Before the summer was over, I saw my son insist on taking the lead in a difficult hike up the canyon. In the past he had been content to follow behind. I saw him ‘rappel’ down the side of a building with the use of a rope, and the look of self-pride as he exchanged smiles with his counselor cannot be bought. By the end of the summer Roseanne had learned to put her frustrations into words and will most often try to reason with me in reaching a solution. This is a new experience for us.
“Raising a hyperactive child is a lonely position to be in, because even though friends try to understand, they cannot and usually react as though the child has problems because she is spoiled. It has been great therapy for me to meet weekly with people who do understand.”

One of the great examples of acquiring invisible possessions of priceless value comes from the dramatic story told of Zion’s Camp. The Missouri Saints were expelled from Jackson County in late November 1833. Four months and twelve days later, 24 February 1834, Joseph Smith was instructed to organize an army to restore the Saints to their rightful ownership of land in Jackson County. The group would march 1,000 miles in four months. They would suffer sickness, deprivation, and severe testing of every physical kind.

Heber C. Kimball said, “I took leave of my wife and children and friends, not knowing whether I would see them again in the flesh.” It was not unusual for them to march thirty-five miles a day, despite blistered feet, oppressive heat, heavy rains, high humidity, hunger, and thirst. Armed guards were posted around the camp at night. At 4:00 a.m. the trumpeter roused the weary men with reveille on an old, battered French horn. Zion’s Camp failed to help the Missouri Saints regain their lands and was marred by some dissension, apostasy, and unfavorable publicity, but a number of positive results came from the journey. Zion’s Camp chastened, polished, and spiritually refined many of the Lord’s servants. When a skeptic asked what he had gained from his journey, Brigham Young promptly replied, “I would not exchange the knowledge I have received this season for the whole of Geauga County” (“Church History in the Fulness of Times,” prepared by the Church Educational System, Salt Lake City, Utah, pp. 143–51).

From among the members of Zion’s Camp the Lord selected those who would lead his church during the next five decades. From the viewpoint of preparation, the Zion’s Camp experiences proved to be of infinite value during the formative years of the Church. Those Saints were tried and tested. They learned what they stood for, what they were willing to live and die for, and what was of highest value.

Ever since I was a little girl, I loved sports, especially football. I played whenever I could, and I dreamed of competing someday for Argentina in the Olympics or the World Games.
My dreams were shattered one day when I was 15 years old. I had just visited my sick seminary teacher and was riding my bicycle home when two gangs in my neighborhood started shooting at each other. A stray bullet hit me in the back.
When I woke up in the hospital the next day, I learned that I was paralyzed from the waist down.
While I was healing, family and friends would ask me how I was doing. I could see that they all felt bad for me, so I would console them by saying I was OK. Comforting others helped me, but I knew I wouldn’t walk again and had to learn how to live with being paralyzed.
At the time, I had started going to seminary and was becoming active again in the Church. Seminary was the pillar that supported me in coming back and in not getting mad at Heavenly Father over what had happened to me.
In seminary our teacher taught us that when bad things happen, we shouldn’t ask, “Why did this happen to me?” She said the question we should ask is, “What can I learn from this?”
It was hard to keep going and to always be positive, but my seminary teacher’s question gave me a lot of strength. When I lost hope and when doubts filled my mind, I always returned to that question: “What can I learn?” That helped me get up every day, and it carried me when I felt like giving up.

As soon as I was assigned to Gaeta, I sought out my relatives. When I showed my father’s older brother the portrait, he wept. He hadn’t seen his brother for years and had no pictures of him.
I taught my uncle that one day he would see his brother again—not in a portrait but in person. I taught him that through the gospel, he could live with his brother again in love and peace with the Savior.
I saw great miracles in Gaeta as I shared with family members the good news that because Jesus Christ overcame death, loss of loved ones is only temporary (see Mosiah 16:8). I testify that through His atoning sacrifice, the Savior has made it possible for our families to be gathered eternally.

When I was a young child, I had a terrible fear of vampires. I was convinced one lived under my bed, just waiting for me to get too close to the edge so he could drag me under—and that would be the end of me.
My fear was so strong that I developed a strict morning and nighttime routine to keep myself “safe.” At night I would run from the hallway to my bedroom and launch myself onto the bed from several feet away, careful not to let even a toe get near the floor. In the morning I’d stand in the far corner of my bed, press my back against the wall, and then sprint across the mattress and leap to the doorway. I did this every day, morning and night, for months.
It all sounds very terrifying, but it’s important to note that the vampire living under my bed was the Count from Sesame Street. If you aren’t familiar with him, he is a Muppet—a cheerful character made of foam and fleece who taught me to count. In fairness to little me, I had heard Halloween stories about vampires, and he was the only vampire I had ever seen, so naturally he became the one I imagined lurking under my bed.
This story seems silly to us as adults. All of us know that Muppets are relatively harmless (except for Miss Piggy), vampires don’t exist, and nothing lives under our beds unless we let it. And yet my fear of the Count was very real to me then. I completely reengineered how I got in and out of bed day and night. Instead of facing fear, I changed my habits and actions in response to it.

As I walked to teach my Primary class, I remembered my new goal. I greeted each child at the door. Each smiled back, radiating the sweet spirit each one has. I wanted now to teach the gospel, which I know is true, to each child—not to the whole class. I wanted each four-year-old to feel important, to feel the love I had for him. When Primary was over, I felt my relationship with each child had improved; I had felt a little of the beauty each held. Longfellow and the missionaries were a little smarter than I thought.

During my mission, I had the opportunity of teaching a Protestant minister. My companion and I taught him every week for six months. He attended meetings in our little branch, but he remained a minister teaching in his church. He had been invited many times to be baptized. He had studied, and I knew that the spirit had touched him often, but still he waited. Finally, one evening I reminded him that he knew that the Church was true, because of the inspiration of the Spirit, and that he had sufficient knowledge now to be baptized. Therefore, we would not be teaching him regularly until he was ready to accept the invitation to be baptized.
A short time later my companion, Elder Darwin Christensen, and I were on a streetcar going to a baptism with some converts. When the streetcar stopped, our investigator-minister got on, and upon seeing us, he asked, “Where are you going?” I told him that we were on our way to a baptism. He said urgently, “I have to talk to you Monday night.”
We rearranged our schedule and went to his home that Monday evening. He asked us some questions that were on his mind about the Church. Then, as though he couldn’t wait any longer, he said, “What do I need to do to be baptized?” He continued, “I am sure that you’ve been wondering why it has taken me so long to decide. I wanted to study everything so that I would have the correct answers and never be an embarrassment to the Church. This Wednesday night I am going to the directors of my church and announce to them that I’m leaving my position and joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
On Wednesday he resigned from his job as a minister, and on Saturday he was baptized a member of our Father in Heaven’s true Church. The next week I finished my mission. He was my last baptism.

Cheating at school is practically expected where I live. But I still live up to my standards and am respected for it. And you will be too.
I can tell you this because one guy was mad at me because I wouldn’t let him cheat off my test. He didn’t like me for a long time. But at the end of the year, he was able to joke about it. Be an example and others will follow. When you get depressed about things like this, pray. It truly helps.
Peggy Dyer, 15Evergreen, Colorado