Gospel Story Finder

For children, having real experiences helps them to learn, understand, and apply information. We can do this by setting up an environment to connect the scriptures with their surroundings and their lives. For instance, when our four sons were little, we were studying the Book of Mormon together. One home evening occurred in our tent, where we talked about Lehi and his family journeying through the wilderness. We talked about what it was like for Lehi’s family to travel and live in a tent for so long. The story came alive to them.

Recently her grandfather was chosen to represent the Northern Ute tribe in the Salt Lake City 2002 Olympic torch relay. When officials asked Frank, Stephanie’s grandpa, to suggest someone for him to pass the torch on to, Stephanie was the first to come to his mind. “She’s really involved in sports,” her grandpa told them, “and I know she’s in good shape. I know she can do it.”

Stephanie smiles. “He’s always taught me that girls can do anything guys can do.”

Stephanie is a soccer player for her high school, so she was in great shape to run the torch. She credits her grandfather with helping her succeed there too: “My grandpa has the best work ethic of anyone I know. This work ethic has helped me in my commitment to sports, to my religion, and to my personal goals.”

When Stephanie received the Olympic torch from her grandfather under the picturesque Delicate Arch in southern Utah’s Arches National Park, it seemed more symbolic than real. More important than giving her the torch is the legacy of love her grandfather and family have passed on. She wants to continue that legacy in her own family.

That’s what the Spann family is striving for. Just as Stephanie was prepared to accept the torch from her grandfather and run with it, she’s prepared to carry on her family’s tradition of love and togetherness. The Spanns are a great family trying their hardest. Stephanie knows if they continue doing their best, they will continue to be blessed.

Mary had been a member of the Church for two years and was just starting to fill in her family tree. Her ward family history consultant helped her find ancestors the first few times she went to the temple. The next time she planned to attend the temple, she wanted to do some initiatory work and decided to see if she could obtain an ordinance card on her own.

Following the steps for Ordinances Ready outlined below, Mary logged on to the Family Tree mobile app to quickly find an ancestor who needed initiatory work, but she didn’t have a printer available. She saved the card to her cell phone photos, and a temple worker printed the card for her when she arrived.

Jules Feifer wrote the following article, “Be Yourself”:
“Ever since I was a little kid, I didn’t want to be me. I wanted to be Billie Widdledon, and Billie Widdledon didn’t even like me. I walked like he walked—I talked like he talked—I signed up for the high school he signed up for.
“Which was when Widdledon changed. He began to hang around Herby Vandeman. He mixed me up! I began to walk and talk like Billie Widdledon, walking and talking like Herby Vandeman.
“And then it dawned on me that Herby Vandeman walked and talked like Joey Haverlin. … And Joey Haverlin walked and talked like Corky Sabison! So here I am, walking and talking like Billie Widdledon’s imitation of Herby Vandeman’s version of Joey Haverlin, trying to walk and talk like Corky Sabison!
“And who do you think Corky Sabison is always walking and talking like? Of all people—Dopey Wellington—that little pest who walks and talks like me!”

I really enjoyed your story “The Miracle of Jenni” in the March 1996 issue. I know a girl similar to Jenni who doesn’t have very many good friends. She was recently baptized, and some of her friends didn’t want her to be with them anymore. I’ve tried to be her friend, but often some of my friends ask me why I’m nice to her. I really didn’t know what to say. The story made me think of ways to be a better friend to her. Next time I’m faced with that question, I’ll know what to say.
Name WithheldColorado

If you’re ever asked how you’re dating, I hope that “intentionally” is one of your first responses. Let me try and illustrate this with an example.
More than half of my and my wife’s time dating was long-distance. I met Catherine while we were in school in Santiago, Chile. We started dating, but she moved back home to Antofagasta before I finished my degree. Because we wanted our relationship to develop, once or twice a month, I made the 20-hour bus ride back to Antofagasta on Thursday afternoons, spent weekends with Catherine (including church services), and took the bus another 20 hours back to Santiago to be at my 8:00 a.m. class on Monday morning.
On the days we couldn’t be together, we talked on the phone. Since we didn’t have cell phones at that time, I bought a phone plan that allowed me to make unlimited calls on public phones. I spent hours tethered to a phone booth, and if anyone else needed to use it, I would have to hang up and call Catherine back as soon as they were done.
Throughout this experience, because of the many obstacles in our relationship, I had to learn to be intentional about how I communicated with Catherine.

On February 20, 2016, Cyclone Winston destroyed thousands of homes. It was the largest recorded storm to ever hit Fiji. The next day, President Henry B. Eyring, then-First Counselor in the First Presidency, rededicated the Suva Fiji Temple after a 16-month renovation. He prayed: “We thank Thee for Thy faithful Saints in this beautiful land. We invoke Thy blessings upon them, that they may be blessed with love and peace, that their lands shall be productive, and that they shall be prospered and protected in their righteous undertakings. We ask that they be protected from the storms of nature and from the conflicts of men as they walk in obedience to Thy commandments.”

I was reminded of this principle among Muslims, and the profound influence of Muhammad’s example in their lives, while living in Cairo, Egypt, during the holy month of fasting, Ramadan. My family and I were invited by a Muslim friend, Nabil, to participate in his family’s evening meal in which they broke their fast. As we entered their modest apartment in one of the most impoverished quarters of Cairo, I noticed that one of the rooms was occupied by numerous women and their children. They were all sitting on the floor with food spread out before them on a cloth, quietly waiting for the call to prayer that marks the end of fasting each day. When I asked if they were his relatives, Nabil replied: “No, I don’t know any of them. It is our habit to invite strangers off the street who cannot afford good food to share our Ramadan meal. We do this because it was one of the customs of our prophet, Muhammad.”
I was deeply moved by my Muslim friend’s unselfishness and compassion for the poor and humbled by his good example in practicing a principle I had learned from the Bible years before but had rarely observed: “When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; … but when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: and thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee” (Luke 14:12–14).

“It’s not easy getting to the church by 6:00 a.m. every school day, but it sure seems to make the day go smoother,” says Blake N. of Illinois, who recently graduated from early-morning seminary with a record of four years of perfect attendance.
Smoother days are nice, but the real motivation for Blake was that he wanted to follow the example of his older brother Conner, who graduated from early-morning seminary in 2008 without missing a day. Conner received his motivation from Derek, who graduated in 2005. Derek followed Jacob, a 2003 seminary graduate. Jacob took after Aryn, who graduated in 2001. Aryn followed Michael, who started the string of perfect attendance when he graduated in 2000. All six brothers combined for a total of 24 years of perfect attendance at early-morning seminary.
“We’ve always tried to support each other, but we also all have somewhat of a competitive streak. Nobody wants to be outdone,” says the oldest brother, Michael. The camaraderie has paid off in other areas. All six brothers are Eagle Scouts. The oldest five have served missions, and Blake has submitted his papers and is waiting for his call.

My locker slammed shut as I turned and hurried up the stairs so I wouldn’t be late for my seventh-grade science class. I was supposed to have something in mind for a science project. I thought a papier-mache volcano would be great, but I knew that instead Mom would probably help me figure out a project to demonstrate capillary action with a stalk of celery and some red food coloring in water.
Just as the bell rang, I sat down in my assigned seat at the back of the classroom. I was beginning to hate being assigned seats alphabetically because I always ended up in the rear of the room.
I hardly had time to say anything to Julie Westergaard, one of the few students who sat further back than I did; when my science teacher started talking. He was obviously upset by something, and we were going to hear about it. He started the day’s lesson, not on science, but about the fact that the United States was facing a major military crisis. The Soviet Union was sending ships loaded with missiles to Cuba. Our president had set up a blockade to stop them. “It could mean war,” my teacher said, pounding the desk for emphasis. “The world as it is right now could end in half an hour. Do you all realize what a nuclear war would be like? It would be the end of the world.”
I was riveted to my chair. The sound of my teacher’s voice seemed very far away, and the loudest noise was my blood pounding in my ears. I was terrified, but I held the terror and panic I felt inside. The rest of the day was a blur.
I walked home from school that day with my science teacher’s words replaying in my mind. “The world could end in half an hour. The world could end in half an hour.”
I didn’t mention my concerns to my parents. I was a grown-up twelve-year-old and was trying to show my independence by not confiding every fear to my mother.
After dinner, I sat down at my desk in my bedroom to do my homework. I wasn’t usually so prompt about getting to my homework first thing in the evening, but nothing else seemed to distract my mind from the worry over the threat of world war. After a while, I was tired of homework and I began to putter with other things I found lying around. As I was sorting through a stack of paper, I picked up a bookmark that had been given to me as I had entered the young women’s organization earlier that year. On the back was a suggested reading list for the year. I had never noticed the list before, but since I was trying to postpone getting back to my school books, I decided I would start reading a little of the first thing on the list—the book of Matthew as translated by Joseph Smith, located in the last few pages of the Pearl of Great Price.
Soon tears blurred my vision and a feeling of warm calm enveloped me as I read the twenty-third verse: “And you also shall hear of wars and rumors of wars; see that ye be not troubled, for all I have told you must come to pass; but the end is not yet.” (JS—M 1:23.)
I read on about the last days and the signs of the times before Christ would come again. But the fear and panic I had felt that day in science class were gone. I knew that our Heavenly Father was aware of us and that world events were proceeding as had been prophesied. I had no need to fear.
Since that night alone in my bedroom with the Pearl of Great Price open on the desk, I have kept that calm feeling as events that seem so threatening unfold. I do not accept the violence of the world and yearn with most of mankind for peace, but I am well aware of the prophecies in the scriptures and have a promise that I should not be troubled.

At 11, I started studying the scriptures. As I would sit down and study the scriptures, I came upon the command that you must be baptized. Even though my family would go to revivals or to church on Easter Sunday, I knew I had never been baptized and I felt I needed to be.
I felt that when you were baptized, you were obliged to attend church with that specific congregation on Sixth Street or wherever. I had already visited all the churches in town, and there wasn’t one I wanted to belong to.
My father died when I was young, so there were just my mother, my brother, and my granddaddy. We would go to revivals during the summer as they traveled through our town. Most of the preachers were very forceful and domineering, and I was often frightened, until one preacher came who was kind of funny and rather entertaining.
I thought, “Well, if I have to be baptized to go to heaven, who would be better than this guy, because it’s a traveling revival and I won’t have to attend any church.” I had gone up and talked to the preacher, and he said he would baptize me on Saturday night.

The counsel we are given on dating does serve a purpose. High school tends to bring on feelings and emotions that have never before been experienced. I justified that the feelings I felt were stronger than the rules. Little did I know that is exactly why I should have heeded the counsel given.

Name WithheldArco, Idaho

Pilgrims braving harsh winters on America’s eastern seaboard didn’t have the benefit of recipes like those given here. Struggling to live, they often ate what they could. One wrote in his journal something similar to this: “Pumpkins for breakfast, pumpkins for supper, pumpkins for dinner. And we were mighty glad for them, too!” More than likely he had eaten his pumpkin boiled and mashed, or maybe he munched on some dried seeds.

When the young women of the Swansea First Ward, Merthyr Tydfil Wales Stake, saw pictures of people starving in Romania, they wanted to help.
So they went to local business and asked for donations—not just money, but also products and services—for an auction at the ward house. It seemed like everyone in town came, and money went to buy much-needed food, medicine, and clothing.

A few years ago, my younger sister, Brooklynn, and I visited my aunt and uncle for a couple of weeks. We had only been at my aunt’s house for a few minutes when my cousin Jenna and her boyfriend, Merrick, burst inside, eager to see us.
Over the next few weeks, we did many things with Jenna and Merrick. We went swimming together, rode scooters, watched movies, and jumped on Jenna’s trampoline. We also played card games together. But my favorite activity was dressing Merrick up in costumes.
Merrick was not a member of the Church. But since we had become good friends, I decided to invite him to come to church with us. Jenna, Brooklynn, and I were very happy when Merrick said yes. It was a wonderful Sunday being able to see Merrick at church, smiling and listening to the talks about eternal families. He wanted to know more about our beliefs and came to church the next week too.
Two months later Merrick was baptized. Then he left to join the military. He and Jenna wrote to each other while he was away. After two years Merrick and Jenna were married in the Salt Lake Temple! It was wonderful to see Jenna and Merrick coming out of the temple together. Who would have guessed two years ago that an eight-year-old girl asking a simple question could help lead to a temple marriage?
Knowing the wonderful happiness that can come from inviting someone to church has given me courage and excitement to be a young missionary to my friends and neighbors.

The choirmaster of St. Michael’s Church looked up in surprise at the two travel-stained young boys the doorkeeper had just brought into the room. “What’s that you say?” he asked, turning to the youngsters. “You want to sing in my choir?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Please take us into your choir and school,” both boys answered at once, their eyes lighting up and brightening their faces in spite of their tired, dusty appearance.
“You must be able to sing well to join the choir of St. Michael’s,” the choirmaster said. “But first, tell me about yourselves. What are your names, and where are you from?”
“My name is Sebastian Bach,” the younger of the two boys said. “This is my Georg Erdmann. We have come from Ohrdruf.”
“Bach. Ah, yes,” the choirmaster said. The musical Bach family, he mused. How well they are known throughout the countryside. “But tell me,” he said, turning to the boys and staring into their dusty faces, “Ohrdruf is two hundred miles away. Surely you did not walk all the way here to Lüneburg.”
“Yes, sir, we did,” Sebastian answered.
“Except when a kindly old man gave us a ride in his oxcart,” Georg added.
“Sir,” Sebastian said. “We have a letter for you from our choirmaster in Ohrdruf. He told us to come here.”
“He said that to sing in your choir would pay for our tuition and lodging at St. Michael’s,” Georg added.
“Yes, that is so,” the choirmaster said, “and you must sing well, or Elias Herda would not have recommended you. But now you must have food and rest. Tomorrow we shall hear you sing.”
Sebastian and Georg ate heartily the soup and bread that were placed before them. When they finished, they sat wrapped in blankets before a warm fire. Soon they were sound asleep.
The next morning, when the choirmaster saw how easily they could read music and heard what clear, beautiful tones they sang with, he was delighted. “Yes, indeed,” he said, nodding his approval. “We certainly have a place for such fine voices in our choir.” Turning to Sebastian, he said, “Even for a Bach, your musical training has been superior.”

Andy’s bare feet kicked at his reflection in the water. He bit his tongue to keep himself from talking, but it didn’t stop his thoughts. Why can’t I go? I’m twelve now. I could help!
Slowly Andy put his moccasins on and sauntered up the footpath to the house. Disgustedly he kicked into the dirt. The flying pebbles sent the chickens squawking in every direction.
“Andy,” his mother asked, “are you still pouting about your father’s decision?”
“I’m not pouting.” Andy stuffed his hands deep in his overall pockets and leaned against the porch post. “I’m just wishing I could go on the hunt.”
“Maybe next time,” Mother said.
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I know, but the bobcat hunt is not just a game. You’ve heard of the damage that old cat’s done. If the cat wasn’t killing the sheep, the men wouldn’t go either. It’s dangerous! Now come on in, your father’s already washing for lunch.”
“Andy,” Father said as they finished eating, “I’m sorry you can’t go on the hunt. I hope you understand.”
Andy sat back down in his chair. His eyes were glued to his empty plate. “Is Billy going?” he asked.
“No. Mr. Longrun and I decided together that you are both too young. Maybe next time, Son.”
Andy went back out to the porch and sat on the step. At least Billy isn’t going either, Andy thought. But still I wish I could go. I’ve listened to all the men talking at the trading post and I know almost everything there is to know about that cat.
His thoughts were interrupted as a wagon pulled up in front of their house. Billy Longrun jumped out of the wagon and started toward him. He didn’t smile and Andy knew why. Without a word Billy sat down on the steps.
After a long silence Billy finally spoke. “My mother said you could come stay with me while my father is gone.”
Andy began to smile. He remembered what fun it was to stay in a Navajo hogan. If he couldn’t go hunting, this was the next best thing.
“I’m sure Mother will let me go,” he said.
“Let’s ask her now. I don’t want to watch them leave,” Billy said as he pushed his black hair out of his eyes.
Andy’s mother said that he could stay with Billy, and in a few minutes he had a small blanket roll of his belongings collected.
“I’m ready!” he shouted as he ran out the door. “I’ll race you to the black rock.”
Both boys ran as fast as they could to the rock then slowed to a walk, laughing between deep pants as they tried to catch their breath.
“I have an idea,” Andy said when he had his breath back. “While the men are on the hunt, let’s go trapping.”
“That’s a great idea,” Billy said. “Then when they get back we’ll have some pelts to show them.” His black eyes began to shine.
“That way staying home won’t be quite so bad,” Andy said.
Mrs. Longrun was sitting just outside the hogan weaving. Her long black hair was tied back with a piece of bright cloth and her arms and fingers were covered with beautiful turquoise and silver jewelry.
Billy sat down beside her. “Can we go trapping?” he asked.
“If you don’t go for long,” she answered.
“We’ll be back before the sun sets,” Billy promised.
Inside, the hogan was very warm. The fire in the coal stove was still smoldering. There was not a lot of furniture, but Andy recognized the bedrolls stacked against the wall. While he put his bedroll by the others, Billy gathered up the traps.
“Now be careful,” Mrs. Longrun called after them. “Don’t forget the time.”
Andy and Billy tramped through the bushes and grass into the hills, then they followed a large stream into the forest. It did not take long to find several good places to set the traps. Just as the boys started back, Andy suddenly grabbed Billy’s arm and said, “Hey, wait!”
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“What’s that between those two trees way over there?” Billy looked in the direction where Andy was pointing.
“I can’t tell.”
“Let’s go see. We have time,” his friend suggested.
Billy looked at the sun and then nodded in agreement. Quickly the boys made their way over to the trees.
As they came closer Billy grabbed Andy’s arm. “Stop! It’s a shindee hogan.”
Andy had heard his father talk about the Navajo customs, and he knew that when one of them died a new door was cut in the north wall of the hogan for everyone to leave and then the hogan was destroyed. But if for some reason the hogan was not destroyed, it was considered haunted. The haunted hogan was called a shindee and under no circumstances would any Indian go near it.
Slowly the boys found their way back to the stream and started for home. Billy’s mother had supper ready. “Tell your mother about the shindee hogan,” Andy whispered as he took a bite of fry bread. Mrs. Longrun stopped short.
“It was near the river in the forest,” said Billy. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“Was it near the high ledge?” Mrs. Longrun asked.
“Yes, and it was almost hidden by the trees,” Andy told her.
Mrs. Longrun began to smile. “It is not a shindee. It was Littlewolf’s hogan, but it was built in a very bad place. Instead of building on the warm mesa he built in the forest where the sun could give it no warmth. He had to move.”
Very early the next morning Andy and Billy were up and off to check their traps.
The first trap had been sprung, but nothing was in it. However, a skunk odor was so strong that it was almost impossible for the boys to get near enough to reset the trap.
“Wow, that animal left a strong message!” Andy said as they wiped their stinging eyes.
“Let’s get out of here!” Billy motioned for Andy to follow.
They hadn’t gone far when they heard a strange, weak bleating sound.
“Oh no!” Billy pointed to the left. “One of the lambs is caught in our trap.”
The lamb’s front leg was not seriously cut, however, and carefully Andy opened the trap while Billy tried to comfort the frightened animal.
“She’s just scared. She’ll be fine,” Andy said as he patted the lamb’s head.
“We’re not far from that abandoned hogan. Let’s take her there until we finish checking the traps,” Billy suggested.
The boys were almost to the hogan when they heard a noise. Carefully they crept behind a dirt bank so they could see what was causing it. Two bobcat cubs were playfully rolling in front of the hogan.
Quickly the boys ducked down! “The big cat must be near,” Andy whispered. “The man at the trading post said she’d never go far from her cubs.”
They looked again just as the mother cat appeared with her ears pricked, as if she sensed intruders. Then the lamb began to bleat. The hungry old cat tensed and held very still. Billy grabbed for the lamb’s mouth, but it was too late. The cat had heard.
“What will we do now?” Billy asked softly.
“Put the lamb down!” Andy cautioned.
“But we can’t let the cat get her,” Billy protested.
“We won’t,” said Andy. “We’ll just use her for a decoy. Hold the lamb down in that crevice where it will be hard for the cat to see her and I’ll circle around behind the hogan.”
Andy took the downwind side and quickly, but very quietly, circled behind the hogan to where the cubs were still playing. The big cat continued to search for the lamb.
Carefully Andy crawled up behind the cubs and then, when the old cat was out of view, he grabbed one of the cubs by the tail. The cub started squalling.
Andy leaped behind a rock just as the mother cat ran to see what was wrong. She pushed the cubs into the hogan and then came out again, her head erect and alert for intruders.
Andy’s heart was beating so hard that he was afraid the cat could hear it. But she soon disappeared into the hogan. Andy moved cautiously toward the opening of the hogan, slammed the door shut, and put all his weight against it.
“Hurry, Billy, and bring the biggest rocks you can carry,” Andy shouted.
The angry cat growled and pawed furiously at the other side of the door. Andy’s heart was racing faster than ever while he waited for Billy to bring rocks to barricade it. Afterward both boys quickly carried heavy rocks to make the barricade secure. Then they ran home, stopping only to pick up the lamb.
Breathlessly they told Mrs. Longrun what had happened. She listened quietly and then said, “The men were just here. They’ve been hunting the cat all night, but they could not find it. I’ll see if I can catch them and tell them where it is.” And she hurried from the hogan.
In a few minutes Billy’s mother returned. “I told them where to go,” she reported. “You boys did a very dangerous thing. You could have been slashed to ribbons.”
“But I know all about that cat,” Andy insisted. “And we’ve helped everyone by catching it! I’m just glad I listened to the men talking about her at the trading post.”
“Bobcats are smart,” Mrs. Longrun explained. “There is only one thing that really saved you from being attacked. The cat must have thought the intruder was a skunk because that is what you both smell like!”
“Is that why she didn’t come after us?” Andy asked.
“Yes,” Mrs. Longrun answered. “And it’s lucky for you or you might have been in real trouble.”
“I’d be in trouble if I went home smelling like this,” Andy said. Then turning to Billy he added, “I’m glad for that stinky old skunk, but we better wash up good, so my mother will let me in the house tonight or I’ll have to start living in that shindee myself.”

Two years ago I was laboring with Elders Wells and Pratt in South America, opening a mission for the Church. I had during that period of time opportunity to reflect and to study. It is said that “distance lends enchantment to the view” and, I believe, sometimes clearer understanding. I was 11,000 miles away from the headquarters of the Church, far enough away to get a good view of things. I had passed out of the world I knew, into a new and different world. The language was different; the customs of the people, the heavens, and the earth—all appeared strange and different—so that I was as one who had left the earth and had many of the thoughts and reflections that I am sure I shall have when that time does come to me. I had the opportunity to read very much, not only in my study of the Spanish language, but indeed I read everything in English that I could obtain, including the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the six volumes of our own Church history. While in contemplation of the Church’s progress, its present position and the future that awaits it, there came to me very distinctly some impressions concerning a period that would come full of danger to many, and feeling an anxious desire for the well-being of the membership of the Church, and indeed for my fellowmen, I promised the Lord that if he would give me the wisdom and the strength, I would lift up my voice in warning to the children of men concerning a peril that was threatening them.

A great challenge! At the marriage of each of our daughters and granddaughters, my wife has presented a special gift. It is not a vacuum cleaner or dishes or anything utilitarian. It is a seven-generation family history chart of her maternal line, beautifully framed. It is made up of photographs of her maternal great-great-grandmother, of her great-grandmother, of her grandmother, her mother, herself, her daughter, and her newly married granddaughter.
Every woman in that picture for seven generations has been a Relief Society worker. This beautiful family history chart becomes an ever-present reminder to the younger ones of this generation of the great responsibility they carry, of the great obligation they have to move forward this work in the tradition of their mothers and grandmothers in service in the Relief Society organization.

It was a special mission conference: our president was being released, and he was sharing his testimony with us for the last time.
We felt a little sad in bidding this man good-bye. He had worked arduously to do the will of the Lord, and the years weighed upon him; but in spite of his weariness, he spoke with great assurance and enthusiasm.
In his talk, he shared a story with us that has since caused me to reflect many times on my service in the Church. He said that while returning from a conference in the city of Salto, Uruguay, he began wondering whether he had done all that the Lord had desired of him.
As he was meditating, he suddenly felt as if the Lord had placed a hand upon his shoulder and said to him: “My son, you have done all that I have commanded you to do. Return to your home in peace; you have been faithful, and I am pleased with your labors.” This brought him great relief and joy, for he had worried about his standing before God.
After a pause, he said, “The best missionaries are not the ones who have had the greatest number of baptisms, or who have given the most discussions, or who know the most doctrine; the best missionaries are those who, when they have finished their missions, feel as though the Lord could put his hand on their shoulders and say, ‘My son, you have done all that I have commanded you. I am pleased with your labors.’”