Gospel Story Finder

She studied at Marni’s School of Performing Arts until the age of 14, then won a spot in the pre-professional program at the National College of Dance in Newcastle, which was two hours away from home. For the next three years, Bianca lived in Newcastle five days a week, an experience that prepared her to move to New York City, USA on her own.
Although she still never danced on a Sunday, at age 17, Bianca was accepted into New York’s prestigious Ballet Academy East, where she had the exciting opportunity to study the Balanchine ballet method.
It wasn’t always fun. “There were times in New York, away from all my friends and family, I felt I had no one,” Bianca remembers. “Crying one night . . . I remember praying to my Heavenly Father and asking Him for [a hug]. I will never forget the warmth that flooded my chest. Although it made me cry more, they were definitely happy tears, and I did not feel alone anymore.”

Sometimes making a difference is as easy as saying one sentence. A couple of years ago, before the beginning of the girls’ basketball season, Sue said, “Let’s say a prayer.” They followed her suggestion before that first game, and it became a habit. “I always said the prayer before every game. Sometimes I would say, ‘Doesn’t someone else want to offer the prayer today?’ And a couple of times someone else would. But most of the time, the team would all be standing around waiting for me, calling, ‘Sue, come and say the prayer.’”

We establish the Church in the hearts of our brothers and sisters when we minister properly. One day, while serving as the Lubumbashi Stake president, the Spirit of the Lord prompted me to call a friend from the Lubumbashi Second Ward. I had these promptings all day long, and I finally resolved to call him as I arrived at work. Here is what happened: He shouted, “President, I am surprised that you call me at this very moment! I have just had a discussion with a Protestant pastor who appeared to be convincing me! Your phone call has fortified me; this is a proof that we are in the true Church of the Lord.” I answered him: “My brother, we are members of the Church of the Lord; it is His Church, we need to stand fast in spite of all hardships we may be experiencing in life. We are from the Church of the Lord, no one can separate us from His love, and no one can change that.”
This phone call helped my brother to stand firm with an increasing faith in the Lord, since he had only been a member of the Church for two years.

A number of years ago, our son, who was four years old at the time, was involved in a serious road accident away from home. After a week or so in hospital, he was able to be transferred the 200 miles (320 kilometres) to our local hospital. When we arrived home, there was a note from a loving and caring ministering sister with details of who would collect our other four children from school, who would provide meals and who would do our laundry. During the subsequent five weeks our son remained in hospital, my wife gave birth to our youngest son. With a son in one end of the hospital, a wife and new baby in the other end, four children to care for, and a full-time job to fit in, we would not have coped without the significant help given to us by our fellow ward members. How grateful we were for their selfless ministering. We know that the common question “Can we do anything to help?” is always sincerely offered, but this wonderful, thoughtful sister went the extra mile, anticipated our needs and ministered accordingly.

The first time we took our three-year-old daughter to Temple Square in Salt Lake City, Utah, she showed me what it means to come unto Christ. As we were going up the ramp in the North Visitors’ Center, she looked up and saw the statue of Jesus. She let go of my hand, looked into my face, and with an expression of unutterable love and eagerness said, “Oh, Daddy! It’s Jesus!” She then ran as fast as she could to meet him.

For many years I had a less than enthusiastic view of school. Not until my junior year of high school did I begin to realize the power which knowledge could have on my life. Learning now became exciting to me. It started to influence my whole life. School became enjoyable, and I studied to learn. I started reading for fun. I read mostly about scientific topics. I began to see the world and religion in a new light.
The core of this internal change was revealed in my advanced-placement chemistry class, along with a few other influences in my life at that time.
During one discussion about the molecular orbital theory and the particle wave theory of electrons, I asked my chemistry teacher how scientists knew what they claimed. I wanted proof. Mr. Steed, my teacher, finally admitted that he didn’t know, and neither did anyone else. He explained that scientists only knew that the theory fit their current understanding.
I began to realize that much of what I had been taught in science could not be proven. I had relied on science to be pure and free from opinions, but I came to realize that it was not. Science involved studies and theories based on a limited knowledge.
At the same time I lost my faith in science, I began to lose my faith in mankind. I took a class in which beliefs, truths, ethics, and morals were discussed. Many students in the class believed that there was no such thing as absolute truth, a God, or morality. They did not believe in personal responsibility and accountability for their actions. These people symbolized the world to me, so I began to lose my faith in mankind when I lost my faith in them.
I realized that much of what I had been taught as fact was not. This changed my perspective on everything in my life. I no longer saw teachers as sources of truth. I began to question all that I had been taught and had believed in. I wanted everything to be proven to me.
I began to question whether an absolute truth could exist. Yet I knew that certain things must exist. My lack of ability to comprehend God caused me to question his existence. I would say to myself, “God exists and his laws are absolute.” Then I would quickly think of something else to avoid questioning God’s existence.
Yet as I learned more, I tried to understand and explain God. Although I disliked my thinking, I could not deny what I felt. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to believe in that which I had always believed. My life was becoming depressing and insecure.
As the desire for stability and truth grew in my life, this great desire caused me to turn to the scriptures. It was then that I found a new meaning in Moroni 10:4 [Moro. 10:4]:
“And when ye shall receive these things, I would ask God, the eternal Father in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.”
These were words of hope and comfort to me. I began to read the Book of Mormon with a new purpose. The writings of the prophets found a new place in my heart. I read with the desire to learn and know.
I longed for the comfort, purpose, and perspective that the gospel had always given to my life. Each night before I read, I would pray with a great desire to know the truth. I felt that the scriptures were true, but I wanted to know. When I read, I often found scriptures that gave me inspiration on how to live my life better. Many tears were shed as I felt the power and truth of the Book of Mormon.
I began to regard prayer more seriously. My relationship with my Father in Heaven became much closer. I prayed to him with a new enthusiasm. I desired to know if he was there. I prayed for a remission of my sins. I prayed for forgiveness because of my lack of faith.
After reading the Book of Mormon, I knelt in prayer. I had a great desire to know of its truth. I hoped it was true, knowing what joy this would bring me. That night I prayed for hours desiring to know. The following nights I continued in my prayers and began to wonder if I would receive a witness.
My determination in waiting for a witness was a trial of my faith. After many days I came to the realization that I knew the Book of Mormon was true. It came not as a sign or a voice. I knew because in the center of my being I could not deny that it was true. I also knew that God existed and that he is my Heavenly Father, that Jesus Christ is the only begotten son of God.
This came to me, not as new knowledge, but as a peaceful remembrance of that which I already knew. I did not need a further witness. I had always known the truth. My pride in my own knowledge had caused me to forget my testimony.
With this new understanding my life received meaning and peace. Although I still question some of what I hear, I do it for my own good and a desire to learn the truth.

In the listening audience today are Jeff and Joyce Underwood of Pocatello, Idaho. They are parents of Jeralee and their other five children. Jeff works on a building maintenance team that cares for some of our chapels in Pocatello, Idaho. Joyce is a mother and homemaker. One day last July, their daughter Jeralee, age eleven, was going door to door collecting money for her newspaper route. Jeralee never returned home—not that day, nor the next day, nor the next, nor ever.

Two thousand people from the area had gone out day after day to search for her. Other churches sent support and food for the searchers. It was learned that Jeralee had been abducted and brutally murdered by an evil man. When her body was found, the whole city was horrified and shocked. All segments of the community reached out to Joyce and Jeff in love and sympathy. Some became angry and wanted to take vengeance.

After Jeralee’s body was found, Jeff and Joyce appeared with great composure before the television cameras and other media to publicly express their profound thanks to all who had helped in the search and who had extended sympathy and love. Joyce said, “I know our Heavenly Father has heard and answered our prayers, and he has brought our daughter back to us.” Jeff said, “We no longer have doubt about where she is.” Joyce continued, “I have learned a lot about love this week, and I also know there is a lot of hate. I have looked at the love and want to feel that love, and not the hate. We can forgive.”

Elder Joe J. Christensen and I, representing the General Authorities, were among the thousands privileged to attend Jeralee’s funeral service. The Holy Spirit blessed that gathering in a remarkable way and spoke peace to the souls of all who attended. Later, President Kert W. Howard, Jeralee’s stake president, wrote, “The Underwoods have received letters from people both in and out of the Church stating that they prayed for Jeralee, and they hadn’t prayed in years, and because of this, they had a renewed desire to return to the Church.” President Howard continued, “We will never know the extent of activation and rededication this single event has caused. Who knows the far-reaching effects Jeralee’s life will have for generations untold?” Many have come into the Church because they wanted to know what kind of a religion could give the Underwoods their spiritual strength.

I mention the good coming from this tragic event with Jeralee’s parents’ full approval and encouragement. Their sweet daughter was like the lad who had only five barley loaves and two small fishes to give to the cause of the Savior, but by the power of God, countless thousands have been spiritually fed.

Jody had five older brothers and sisters. When Jody was little, being the youngest was fun because she got special attention. But now that Jody was getting bigger, being the youngest sometimes meant being overlooked.
For example, today when Jody came home from school she had lots of exciting things to tell her mother, but Mom was busy in the garage helping Jody’s brother Derek repair his bike. Later, before dinner, Jody’s oldest sister, Lisa, was in the kitchen with Mom. Lisa was helping fix dinner, chatting endlessly about boys. After dinner, Jody’s sister Amber needed help with her math homework. Then it was time for family prayer, and Jody was off to bed.
On days like these, Jody was grateful she had her secret journal friend. That night she wrote:
Dear Secret Journal Friend,
I wish I could spend more time with Mom. She is always busy with the family, but I wanted to tell her about school today. I got 100 percent on my spelling test, we did gymnastics in P.E., and in art, I made a beautiful flower out of tissue paper. I like my teacher a lot, but I love my mom.
Your friend,
Jody
Jody felt better when she had finished writing. She put the journal next to her bed, said her prayers, and went to sleep.
The next day, when Jody got home from school, her mother wasn’t there. Lisa told her that their sister, Ellen, who shared a room with Jody, had gotten sick and Mom had taken her to the doctor.
When Jody went into her bedroom to drop off her backpack she saw her journal on her pillow. She opened the journal and read the reply from her secret journal friend.
Dear Jody,
Your mom loves you very much too, and wants to spend more time with you. Why don’t you invite her out for ice cream on Friday night? You know how much she likes rainbow sherbet.
From,
Your Secret Journal Friend
Jody smiled. The ice cream was a good idea. It sounded like fun. But right now Jody was worried about her sister. She wanted to do something to make her feel better.
Jody took out her pencil and wrote:
Dear Secret Journal Friend,
I am sorry that Ellen is sick. I want to give her my tissue-paper flower, even though I made it for Mom. Do you think Mom would mind?
Your friend,
Jody
Then Jody remembered something else she was feeling bad about and wrote:
P.S. Today in art I got mad at my friend, Sara, because she spilled my paints. I even pulled her hair. Later I told her I was sorry. Will you still be my friend even when I do bad things?
The next day after school Jody found Ellen resting in their bedroom and gave her the brightly colored flower. Ellen’s eyes lit up and she grinned.
“Thanks, Jody,” Ellen said. “It’s really pretty. It makes me feel cheerful just looking at it.”
Jody smiled. Then she sat down on her bed and started reading her journal.
“What are you doing?” Ellen asked.
“I’m reading a message from my secret journal friend,” Jody told her.
“Your secret friend?” Ellen asked. “I think I saw your secret friend writing in your journal today. Do you want me to tell you who it is?”
“No thanks,” Jody responded. She took her journal out to the living room couch so she could be alone. She sat down and read:
Dear Jody,
I’m sure your mother won’t mind you giving away her flower. She will be very proud of you for being such a thoughtful sister.
From,
Your Secret Journal Friend
(who loves you always, NO MATTER WHAT)
Jody turned to a blank page, thought for a moment, then wrote:
Dear Secret Journal Friend,
Ellen liked the flower. I’m glad I gave it to her. Last night I prayed that she would feel better, and now she does!
I used to wonder how Heavenly Father can hear everyone’s prayers when there are so many people in the world, but now I think I know. Because Heavenly Father loves us no matter what, He will always find a way to answer our prayers.
Then Jody wrote in extra big letters:
I LOVE YOU, MOM!
Thanks for being my secret friend and my mother.
Love,
Jody
P.S. Don’t forget—tonight is ice-cream night!

My awakening to these unique verses played an important role in my first assignment as an Area Seventy. I was a bit nervous being the companion of an Apostle, Elder Quentin L. Cook, at a stake conference. As I walked into the stake president’s office for the initial meeting that weekend, I noticed a pair of tattered-looking, bronzed shoes on the credenza behind his desk, accompanied by a scripture ending in an exclamation point. As I read it, I felt the Lord was aware of my study, had answered my prayers, and that He knew exactly what I needed to soothe my anxious heart.
I asked the stake president to tell me the story of the shoes.
He said:
“These are shoes of a young convert to the Church whose family situation was strained, yet he was determined to serve a successful mission and did so in Guatemala. Upon his return I met with him to extend an honorable release and saw his shoes were worn out. This young man had given his all to the Lord without much, if any, family support.
“He noticed I was staring at his shoes and asked me, ‘President, is anything wrong?’
“I responded, ‘No, Elder, everything is right! Can I have those shoes?’”
The stake president continued: “My respect and love for this returning missionary was overwhelming! I wanted to memorialize the experience, so I had his shoes bronzed. It is a reminder to me when I walk into this office of the effort we all must give regardless of our circumstances. The verse was from Isaiah: ‘How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!’ (Isaiah 52:7).”
My dear brothers and sisters, the good bishop’s wife may have been wondering why the prophet was calling her. I testify she and we need wonder no more—EXCLAMATION POINT!
I know we each must develop and carry out our own personal game plan to serve with enthusiasm alongside the full-time missionaries—EXCLAMATION POINT!
I add my testimony to that of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives!” (D&C 76:22). In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

When the teachers in Kaiserslautern, Germany, begin to wonder if all the days of classes, grading papers, school lunch, and noisy students are worth it, the youth of the Landstuhl Ward like to remind them of their value. Each year for the last six years, the youth have honored their teachers with a teacher appreciation night.
The theme the Landstuhl youth chose for this year was “For the Strength of Youth.” They made a memory and quote book for their teachers and thanked them for their guidance, knowledge, and service. The youth also treated them to dinner in the cultural hall, which they decorated especially for the occasion, and they put on a show that kept them entertained. On each dinner table were copies of For the Strength of Youth for the teachers to take home with them. Their teachers really appreciate being appreciated.

Another time, Joseph was again playing ball with some men and young men from town. When the game was finished, Joseph called the men together.
Brethren, hitch up your teams.
The men did just as Joseph asked and drove into the forest to gather wood.
This is the 39th and last wagon.
We did good work today, brother. Would anyone like to pull sticks?
Joseph was strong and good at a game called pulling sticks. He pulled up each opponent, one after another.
When they finished pulling sticks, Joseph called the men and young men around again.
Take these wagons out, and cut the wood for anyone who needs it.
The Saints loved to do what the Prophet asked, even if they were weary from a long day of hard work and play.
Haul ’em out, boys! Let’s do what the Prophet asks.

The neonatal resuscitation training concerns in Ghana mirror those of Lesotho and Uganda. Dr. David Gourley, a Salt Lake City physician and member of the Humanitarian Services advisory committee, reported that “a simplified course designed for rural midwives and community nurses will provide basic resuscitation skills and equipment necessary to lower Ghana’s infant mortality rate.”
Dr. Gourley related the following account from a recently trained midwife: “Dora attended a breech delivery. She thought the baby was dead because he was floppy and not breathing. Dora went through the initial steps of resuscitation. She needed only to correctly position the baby’s airway and suction with a bulb syringe before the baby began breathing and tone improved. Today the baby is thriving.”

Anne, Lisa, Paula, Vicki, and Joanne* weren’t members of the Church, but they seemed to have high standards. And since there were no Latter-day Saint girls in my neighborhood when my family moved in, I was grateful they befriended me and took me into their group.
A few years later, we left our little elementary school and entered junior high. Right away, things started to change. Soon our conversations began to include fashions and boys. I noticed that my friends were treating me a little differently, too. I brushed it off, but then it got worse. Whispering ended abruptly when I joined the group, and the other girls paired up more. Joanne and Vicki seemed to splinter off, and Anne, Lisa, and Paula spent a lot of time together, often leaving me alone.
It hurt when I learned, one Monday morning, of Friday night’s party at Anne’s house. “We thought you were too busy” was supposed to be an explanation for not inviting me. Another day we were all to meet at the park, but when I got there one of the girls told me that another girl was mad at me, so I’d better leave.
Christmastime came, and our usual Christmas gift exchange was planned. Usually we drew one another’s names, but since I hadn’t been around, someone drew a name for me. I was to buy a gift for Paula. No one had drawn my name, and they were sure I’d be too busy to come to the party, so they asked me to drop off my gift at the door.
I don’t remember whether I was more hurt than angry, but I do remember trying to think of all the mean ways I could get back at them. After some thinking, it occurred to me that being mean wouldn’t be right.
Maybe the best thing to do would be nothing at all, I thought. For a while I settled on ignoring them and their party until I realized that if I didn’t give Paula a present, they might think they were justified in treating me unkindly. I decided, finally, to give Paula something beautiful to show I could rise above pettiness and forgive.
The prettiest wrapping paper I could find made a lovely lining and covering for a small shoe box. I carefully chose items to fill the treasure box: a dainty cut-glass perfume bottle, a miniature vase with tiny dried flowers in it, and other dried flowers in doll-sized bouquets, all tied with ribbons.
The most important part of the gift was the inspirational poems I copied in my best handwriting on pretty stationery. I rolled each like a scroll, tied them with ribbon, and carefully laid them in the box. Finally, I laid the covered lid on the box and tied it closed with a matching ribbon. I walked to Anne’s house, where the party was being held, gave someone my gift, and left. I felt good knowing that I had done the right thing. From that time on, although I never rejoined that group of girls, they were never unkind to me.
We graduated from junior high and went on to high school. If we happened to meet in the halls, we always acknowledged one another with a friendly hello but rarely stopped to talk. After high school graduation, I went away to college.
I came home to visit during a holiday that year, and I heard that the LDS students attending the local junior college had planned a get-together at the institute of religion. Everyone who had gone away to college and returned for the holiday was invited. When I arrived, I saw Paula. She was waiting for me with tears in her eyes.
She threw her arms around me, and after a few minutes she explained: “After high school the missionaries came to my house and taught me the gospel. I was baptized just a few weeks ago, and I’ve been attending institute classes.
“We were so mean to you in junior high, and I felt so bad. I’m so sorry! I loved the box you made for me, and I kept it. I love the poems. They’re spiritual and beautiful, and I reread them all the time.”
I sure had some exciting news to tell my parents when I got home that night! Sometimes rewards for doing right come immediately, but sometimes not for years. We may never learn of the good we’ve done, though the effects of our good deeds may span many lifetimes. I am relieved that I didn’t give in to my angry feelings those many years ago and do something unkind. I am glad that, during that Christmas season long ago, I chose a gift of love—a treasure that Paula now more fully shares.

Truman studied architectural design and innovations in building. The constant pressure of being the Church’s architect was strain on his health, so Brigham Young called him to serve a mission in Europe. There he was not only to preach to the people, but also to visit the great buildings and study the architectural styles. He had been on his mission for thirteen months when he was called to return to help with the Salt Lake Temple.

Work on the temple did not progress very rapidly at first. There were several delays, such as the time United States President James Buchanan sent federal troops to Utah with a new governor to replace Brigham Young. The Saints, remembering the mob violence of the East, were not going to allow their new homes and lands to be plundered again. They stripped their homes of valuables and filled them with straw to be set afire if and when hostile troops came. Even the foundation of the temple was covered with dirt, making it appear to be only a plowed field. Fortunately, a peaceful settlement was reached before the troops arrived in Salt Lake.

As the building of the temple progressed, Truman sought the advice and counsel of President Young almost every step of the way. There were many details that had to be taken care of, and the work required Truman’s constant supervision. All his efforts were devoted to serving the Lord, despite constant poor health and personal heartaches.

Truman Angell did not live to see the completion of the beautiful Salt Lake Temple. It was dedicated in April 1893, and this year marks the 100th anniversary of that great event. This majestic structure stands as a monument to Brother Angell’s and other Saints’ dedication in building the Lord’s kingdom here on earth.

Photograph courtesy of the author (right, with Sister Lim on the left)
Recently some missionaries in JeonJu Korea Stake and I made a flower garden at the entrance to my apartment. One morning before I went to my garden, I asked Heavenly Father to bless me to use the garden to make a new friend who was prepared to hear the gospel. That day while I was working in the garden, a woman approached.
“I’m looking for the church that is above a nearby supermarket,” she said. “Do you know where I can find it?”
“I don’t know that church,” I replied.
She went on her way but returned 30 minutes later.
“I’ve heard that there is a church here somewhere,” she said. “I moved to my apartment a few days ago, and I’m looking for a church to attend.”
At that moment, it struck me. She was the answer to my prayer. I learned that she had moved to the same floor of the same apartment building where my husband and I live.
The next day we met at an open area behind the garden. For more than three hours, Lim Bo Nam and I shared our lives. Acting on a strong feeling, I shared some of my beliefs as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I also told her about the sacrament meetings we were holding in our home during the COVID-19 pandemic. Then I invited her to our home to join us. To my surprise, she promised to come.
We taught Sister Lim about repentance and the meaning of the emblems of the sacrament. We also shared some related Bible verses about the importance of being “born of water and of the Spirit” (John 3:5). The Spirit touched her.
Sister Lim expressed gratitude to learn about the true gospel of Jesus Christ. After receiving the discussions from the full-time missionaries, she was baptized August 1, 2020.
During her first fast and testimony meeting as a member of the Church, she testified that she had prayed to make friends in her new area. On the day we met, she had also prayed about which church to attend.
I am grateful the Lord answered both of our prayers and blessed me with the opportunity to make a friend and share the gospel with her.

Car horns blared and taxis and buses jostled for a place in the traffic. As Benjamin Misalucha sat in the marketplace watching the automobiles roll by, he reached for a handkerchief and mopped his brow. He hoped his wife would be done with the shopping soon. The weather was hot and muggy, as it often is in the Philippines, and he was eager to get home and relax with his children.

Then he noticed a sign, high on the side of one of the buildings overlooking the square. “No other success can compensate for failure in the home,” the sign read. He found himself contemplating the message and believing in its truth.

“During those times I was young, about 30, and had four children. We had everything, comparatively speaking, compared to other Filipinos, but I was not satisfied with my life. In my heart I knew I was searching for something more,” he said.

He didn’t guess that the quotation from President David O. McKay had been inscribed on the sign by missionaries living in the building, the same kind of Mormon missionaries who had already visited with him for three weeks when he lived in Manila, the capital city. He had also been visited twice by the elders here in Davao, another large city in the south.

A short time later, Benjamin Misalucha was transferred by his pharmaceutical company to Cebu City, an important community on one of the central islands. It was in Cebu that Mr. Misalucha and his family would discover the secret of what had been lacking in their lives.

The Misaluchas were excited about their new home. Cebu and the region surrounding it are important in the history of the Philippines. It was here that Ferdinand Magellan, who sought to circumnavigate the earth, first introduced Christianity to the islands. What is reputed to be Magellan’s wooden cross still stands in the city plaza. From 1565 to 1571, Cebu was the Spanish colonial capital, and Cebuanos later played key roles in the fight for independence from Spain. During World War II, in reprisal for guerilla action, Cebu City proper was almost entirely razed. But the port remained intact and the city was rebuilt. Today Cebu remains an inter-island trade and domestic airline center. Its citizens are a conglomeration of farmers, factory workers, and businessmen. The Misaluchas soon discovered that, like Filipinos everywhere, the people of Cebu are quick to smile and just as quick to lend a helping hand.

“Filipinos are basically close,” Benjamin’s wife, Avelina, explained. “We maintain close family ties, and ties with other Filipinos as well. We share experiences, even material things.”

In a society in which sharing is so accepted, it might seem unusual that someone would stand out as being particularly kind and generous. But such was the case with the local Parent Teacher Association (PTA) president. Right from the start she went out of her way to help the Misaluchas adjust to their new city. Soon Mr. Misalucha was serving on the PTA board. He eventually found out that the PTA president was also the wife of the local Mormon bishop. His curiosity grew and grew.

“One day I saw both of them walking home, and I ran over to catch up with them,” Mr. Misalucha explained. “I told him I wanted to know more about his church. He said he could recommend a couple of nice young men who could teach me about it.”

For the next ten months, the elders became a regular fixture in the Misalucha home. Benjamin Misalucha would entertain them with stories about previous encounters with missionaries, before he fully understood who they were: “They knocked on my door and asked me if I was the head of the house. I was all hot and perspiring from doing some chores, so I told them, ‘No, I’m just the janitor here.’ It’s something I say jokingly to my family all the time, but the missionaries believed me!”

Avelina would always provide cold water or juice, cake, or even siopao (doughy, white, steamed Chinese bread stuffed with sausage and eggs). And of course, the children, who numbered five by now, would have fun teasing the missionaries and telling jokes before the serious gospel discussions began.

“I wanted answers from the Bible,” Benjamin said, “because I didn’t believe in the Book of Mormon yet. And they showed me answers in the Bible. I was totally perplexed by how they could always get answers to questions I couldn’t even answer myself.” Slowly his perplexed state gave way to understanding. The missionaries could find the answers because they knew the truth. He summoned a family council.

“Take this individually into prayer,” he told his wife and children. At the next family council, they all voted in favor of becoming Latter-day Saints. The family was baptized on April 29, 1978, a Saturday.

“Ever since we’ve been members, we’ve been blessed,” Brother Misalucha said. He began working for an insurance company, and his business has grown steadily, “in spite of the fact that some of my friends were hostile. They told me I’d return to my former church within two years. But I had found the true church, Christ’s church. Our family bonds were stronger. The children were becoming more pronounced in developing their skills, learning to speak in public and overcoming their shyness. I knew I was following the Lord’s way.”

That gift continued in the hospital after his wife died. We gathered up my mother’s things to take home. Dad stopped to thank every nurse and doctor we met on the way out to the car. I remember I felt, with some irritation, that we should leave to be alone with our grief.

I realize now that he saw things only the Holy Ghost could have shown him. He saw those people as angels sent by God to watch over his sweetheart. They may have seen themselves as health care professionals, but Dad was thanking them for their service on behalf of the Savior.

As I attended college and then medical school, I was continually drawn to Latter-day Saints. I watched them closely, and they rarely disappointed me. Finally, after several years, I decided that I was going to learn for myself what made them so different. I went to the public library and checked out every book I could find about the Mormons.
I found a copy of the Book of Mormon and began to read it. As soon as I read just a few chapters, I had the feeling that this was something special. After about six months of reading and studying, I realized that I needed to make some changes in my life. A voice inside me whispered that real faith requires action. If I wanted to experience what my LDS friends had, I knew I would have to act.
So I decided to be baptized. As soon as I made the decision, I felt the assurance of the Spirit. It was the best decision I ever made!
After I was baptized and received the gift of the Holy Ghost, I finally understood the source of that “Mormon confidence.” It comes from the companionship of the Holy Ghost.

?Mormons aren’t Christians.”
The statement from one of my high school classmates caught me off guard.
“Of course we are,” I said.
“Then why do you read the Book of Mormon?” he said as he walked away, leaving me no chance to reply.
I thought about his question a lot. The answer is, of course, that Mormons are Christians and the Book of Mormon is another testament of Jesus Christ. We read it along with the Bible to learn even more about the Savior.
I had read the Book of Mormon before. I knew it was true. But because of my classmate’s question, I felt prompted to study it in a new way, keeping track of how often it mentions Jesus Christ. As I did, I was amazed.
I had hardly opened the book when I read on the title page that the Book of Mormon is written to convince readers “that Jesus is the Christ, the Eternal God, manifesting himself unto all nations.”
In the introduction to the Book of Mormon, I read, “The crowning event recorded in the Book of Mormon is the personal ministry of the Lord Jesus Christ among the Nephites soon after His resurrection.” It said that those who gain a witness from the Holy Ghost that the record is true “will also come to know by the same power that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world.”
I turned to “The Testimony of Three Witnesses,” who said that an angel showed them the plates from which the Book of Mormon was translated, and that “we know that it is by the grace of God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, that we beheld and bear record that these things are true.”
Next, “The Testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith” told of the visit of angel Moroni, who said the Book of Mormon contains the fulness of the everlasting gospel “as delivered by the Savior to the ancient inhabitants” of America.
I hadn’t even made it to 1 Nephi, and already I had found a lot!
My search continued. In 1 Nephi, I found that Lehi knew about the coming of the Messiah (see 1 Nephi 1:19). I read his prophecies about the Redeemer, “who should take away the sins of the world” (1 Nephi 10:10; see verses 4–10). I read Nephi’s description of the birth of Jesus Christ, His ministry, death, Resurrection, and future visit to ancient America (see 1 Nephi 10–12).
I read prophesies that the Book of Mormon would affirm Bible truths that “the Lamb of God is the Son of the Eternal Father, and the Savior of the world; and that all men must come unto him” (1 Nephi 13:40). And I read Nephi’s testimony that “all nations, kindreds, tongues, and people shall dwell safely in the Holy One of Israel if it so be that they will repent” (1 Nephi 22:28).
After one day, I was on page 53. I had finished just one of the books in the Book of Mormon, but what powerful witnesses I had already received!
The Converting Power of the Book of Mormon, by Ben Sowards
In the weeks that followed, I found page after page of testimonies of Jesus Christ, visions in which He appeared to prophets, and the detailed description of His ministry among the ancient Americans. I concluded my reading with Moroni’s powerful testimony of Jesus Christ (see Moroni 9); his challenge to, “ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if [the Book of Mormon is] true” (Moroni 10:4; emphasis added); and, on the last page, his tender and compelling invitation to “come unto Christ” (Moroni 10:30, 32).
I found that the Book of Mormon refuted my classmate’s statement completely. If a Christian is someone who believes in Jesus Christ, then page after page in the Book of Mormon says, “We believe!”
Eventually, I saw my friend again. I told him about my experience and invited him to read the Book of Mormon. He politely declined but said he was happy that I accept Jesus Christ as my Savior. And after our discussion, I think he understood better what I mean when I say, “Of course we are Christians.”

She was more emotional than I thought she would be about the news, and I found out why a few months later, on the day I was leaving for the MTC.
Mom found a minute to tell me this story. On the day I left to go back to Rexburg, without telling me, Mom had asked the family to join in a special fast for me, to ask that my heart would be softened and that I would make the decision to go on a mission.
The family gladly participated, and they closed their fast with a family prayer at nearly the exact time my car died on that lonely freeway.