Gospel Story Finder

Crisanta Juan really wasn’t interested in leaving her family or her Philippine hometown of Mayantoc. But several of her friends were applying for jobs as nannies in Saudi Arabia. If they got the jobs, they told her, they could make lots of money to send home. Thinking nothing would ever come of it, twenty-five-year-old Crisanta signed up. A month later, she received word that she had been hired by a Saudi Arabian prince!
When the prince’s secretary came for her, Crisanta still wasn’t convinced that she wanted to go. The man couldn’t comprehend her hesitation.
“It’s a privilege to serve in a royal family!” he said.
“But I don’t want to go,” she replied. “I’m happy here in the Philippines.”
“Why? What is your work here?”
“I’m a factory worker, and I’m happy with that,” she said.
“Don’t you want a higher salary?”
“No,” she answered. “I don’t need more money. I’m happy.”
The secretary insisted that the prince had chosen her and that no one else would do. And he already had her passport ready. Feeling great pressure, Crisanta finally agreed to go. Soon she was in an airplane on her way to Saudi Arabia.
But the farther she went from home, the more frightened she became. Terrified, she wondered if it was all a cruel joke. “I couldn’t believe they would get some unknown girl from the Philippines to work for a prince!”
Then came the shock of being led into the prince’s palatial home. Crisanta had never dreamed of such wealth. There she met the beautiful nineteen-year-old princess (one of the wives of the prince) and her two-year-old daughter, who was to be Crisanta’s charge.
The child spoke only Arabic. “How can I talk to your daughter?” Crisanta asked the princess in English. “I cannot speak Arabic.”
“You must learn,” the princess answered. Crisanta, who had graduated from college, began to study Arabic with a tutor. Within three months, she spoke it so well that the prince asked her to teach Arabic and English to his daughter. He raised her pay because she was now to serve as tutor—as well as nanny.
It didn’t take long for Crisanta to become accustomed to her new lifestyle. “I felt like a princess,” she says. “I didn’t have to wash or iron my clothes, or cook, or do anything except teach and care for the child.” She was chauffeured in a luxurious car. She ate rich food—often at a long table with the prince, his wives and children, and the other nannies. She spoke almost daily with the prince about his daughter, her grades, and her development.
Crisanta was paid well. She sent money to her family, and they upgraded their humble Philippine home. She also learned to spend money on herself. Soon she had many new dresses, expensive jewelry, and other luxuries. “I wanted everything, so I bought it,” she says. “And I didn’t buy cheap things!”
After three years, Crisanta returned home to the Philippines for a month’s vacation. There she found that her parents and two sisters had joined the Church, and she agreed to listen to the missionaries. But after four discussions, she told the missionaries that she wasn’t feeling anything and didn’t want to continue. “Because of my luxurious life, I didn’t think I needed a spiritual life,” she says. But for some reason, she decided to take the Book of Mormon and Church pamphlets back to Saudi Arabia with her.
As Crisanta was reentering Saudi Arabia, the airport officials found the Book of Mormon in her luggage and told her it was illegal to take the book into the country. “I showed them the letter attached to my passport,” she says. “It said I could bring back whatever I wanted.” The officials telephoned the prince. He asked to talk with Crisanta.
“Is that book really important to you?” he asked. She replied that it was. He gave his permission.
That night, Crisanta started reading. She noticed that the missionaries had marked certain passages in the Book of Mormon, particularly Moro. 10:4–5. “I started getting interested,” she says. “And I realized that in order to understand all these things, I must ask God. So I prayed about it. Every morning, I felt challenged to read that book, and every day I made time to read it. I realized that it was really helping me spiritually. I felt that I was nearer to God and that my life was different now.”
Crisanta wrote home excitedly, telling her family of her growing testimony. They sent her a tape recording of their family home evening, complete with hymns and testimonies. Crisanta was especially moved by the testimonies of her mother and father. “They uplifted my spirit, and I cried and cried,” she says.
Before a year had passed, she wanted to go home again to learn more about the gospel. But the princess refused to give her any time off, reminding Crisanta that she had recently had a vacation—and the she had promised to stay for three more years.
“So I asked the prince for permission,” she says, “and I really cried.” The prince gave in, but he told her she must return after one week. As a guarantee that she would return, Crisanta could take only four dresses with her. The rest of her new clothes and all of the other possessions that she had earned during her years in Saudi Arabia had to stay behind.
Back home in the Philippines, Crisanta met with missionaries again. “I told them that although I hadn’t been interested before, I felt different when I read the Book of Mormon.”
During their second visit, the missionaries asked her to pray. “I felt a warm feeling in my heart—and then I started to cry and couldn’t continue my prayer for a while. I felt all my sins, and I realized the happiness that I had known since reading the Book of Mormon. I felt that I really am a daughter of Heavenly Father, that I really am important to him. After my prayer, I told the missionaries that I wanted to be baptized immediately.”
They replied, “No, Sister, we have to continue the discussions.” She was baptized a few days later, on 9 April 1988.
From that moment, Crisanta lost interest in her life of luxury in Saudi Arabia. “I felt that I had something to do here in the Philippines,” she says. “The longer I stayed here, the happier I felt. I was happy because I had learned the importance of life—not only here, but also hereafter. I had learned that the family is important. And I had found that I must put God before anything else—that I had to serve him.
“I had also learned that money cannot make me happy. In Saudi, I cherished all the luxuries. But when I joined the Church, I realized that those things are void—they are nothing to me. Everything I do in the Church gives me more joy than those other things I had. So I had to sacrifice those things.”
After a few days, the prince telephoned her from Saudi Arabia, saying that she must return because the baby was waiting for her.
“I want to extend my vacation,” she told him.
“But we want you back,” said the prince. “The baby wants you back.”
“And I really miss the baby,” Crisanta said. “I want my job. But I feel I have a job here to do.”
“What is it?” the prince asked.
Crisanta then told him that she wanted to serve a mission for the Church—and that she wouldn’t be able to return to Saudi Arabia for two years. Convinced that she was serious, the prince released her from her commitment. “You can come back to Saudi Arabia after two years if you want,” he said. “But the princess cannot wait for you.”
A month later, Crisanta received word that the prince had hired another nanny. The new nanny and Crisanta corresponded several times, sharing news and insights about the baby. “The little princess was always asking when I was going to come back,” she says.
At home, Crisanta served as a Primary teacher, as Primary president, and as a stake missionary. She worked in a bank to earn money for her mission. “If only I could bring back all that money that I spent before!” she says. “Oh, I had a lot! I was crazy before—really crazy!”
Exactly a year after her baptism, Crisanta received her endowment in the Manila Temple. Two months later, in June 1990, she received her mission call. She is currently serving—in her native Philippines.
People ask her why she would give up so much for her mission. “I tell them I’m happier now than before.”
“Is it that good?” they ask.
“Yes, it’s that good,” she tells them.
What are her plans after her mission?
“I want to go where Heavenly Father wants me to go,” she says. “If he takes me again to Saudi Arabia, that’s what he wants for me.”
But she isn’t sure. “I have already had a luxurious life and all the things that go with it. When I had a lot of money, I didn’t know God, I didn’t know Jesus Christ, and all I wanted was to buy everything I liked. But I came to realize that those things are not important to me. Other things are more treasured, more valuable.
“Now I want a simple life,” she says. “I want to serve Heavenly Father. I want to be loved by him. I want to love him.”

Even so, Kate faces some hard situations when it comes to the party atmosphere that accompanies sports. It seems that drinking can become a stumbling point, especially when the team goes to Europe to compete. “After races, it’s party time. Everyone I met would drink. At first, I felt like the loner in the hotel. But I got over that feeling. My teammates knew better than to ask me to drink with them. After I won the worlds, my competitors would say, ‘Kate, you have to drink tonight.’ But I’d say no. My teammates would say, ‘No, she doesn’t drink. Don’t even ask.’”

It seems that people are indeed watching Kate and what she chooses to do. At the end of the season, two of her teammates said they had stopped drinking because of her. “It was the biggest reward I have ever received,” says Kate.

May I share with you an example of Brother Clayton M. Christensen, a member of the Church who is a professor at Harvard University.
When he was 16 years old, Brother Christensen decided that he would not play sports on Sunday. Years later, when he attended Oxford University in England, he played center on the basketball team. That year they had an undefeated season and went to the championship tournament.
They won their games fairly easily in the tournament, making it to the finals. Then Brother Christensen looked at the schedule and saw that the final game was on a Sunday. He went to his coach with his dilemma. His coach told Brother Christensen he expected him to play in the game.
Brother Christensen went to his hotel room. He knelt down. He asked his Heavenly Father if it would be all right, just this once, if he played that game on Sunday. He said that before he had finished praying, he received the answer: “Clayton, what are you even asking me for? You know the answer.”
He went to his coach, telling him how sorry he was that he wouldn’t be playing in the final game. Then he went to his Sunday meetings.
Brother Christensen learned that it is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time.

I’ll never forget the day I met my bishop after that lonely January night in my motel room. My friend who had given me the Book of Mormon helped me get in touch with him. When I met the bishop in his office before church, I told him about my past, and I was prepared for him to say that they didn’t need someone like me in their ward.
Instead, he invited me to go into sacrament meeting.
So I did. I was convinced that I had the word convict tattooed across my forehead and that when I walked in, everyone would shun me. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I found the most welcoming people I had ever encountered. The next Sunday, I came back. Not long after I began attending church, a counselor in the bishopric asked if I would speak about forgiveness in sacrament meeting.
“Me? Talk about forgiveness?” I asked. But when he affirmed that he meant it, I took on the assignment. When I spoke to the congregation, I was sure they would only see me as a former convict. But the longer I talked, the more confident I became, and afterward I was met with nothing but love from these members, who greeted me with a hug or a handshake. That day I truly felt what it was to “love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:39).
More importantly, I finally understood that when the Savior suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane and bled from every pore (see Mosiah 3:7; Doctrine and Covenants 19:18–19), He was bleeding for me too. This was a turning point—even though I had accepted the truth of the Book of Mormon and had invited Jesus Christ into my life, I was convinced that I was not going to be invited to heaven. I could not be forgiven. His Atonement was for everyone else, but not for me—because of what I had done.
But in this moment, I realized that I could be forgiven. This knowledge helped me move forward with my life. After more meetings with the missionaries, I was baptized in March 2012—my first step on the covenant path. Although I previously wouldn’t have thought it possible, I was able to marry a wonderful woman from my ward. We were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple in June 2013.

Hard work and faithful, diligent service has always been a part of Elder and Sister Mutombo’s life together. Heartache and adversity have been as well. Four of the Mutombo’s first six children died while infants. The youngest died at one week old, the oldest died of sudden infant death, at 9 months old. In the face of the heartbreak of losing four children, Thierry and Nathalie’s faith in God and love for each other was undeterred. Today, they have six living children, Jason, Blessing, Ariel, Marvel, Harvest, and Ruby. Ruby, their tenth child and third daughter, was born while the Mutombos led the Maryland Baltimore mission. Despite the challenges they have faced, they are happy, cheerful, faithful people.

“Going to church isn’t always a picnic,” I thought to myself as I studied the congregation. There must have been 200 people in the room, but I felt painfully alone.
All around me families sat snuggled cozily together on the benches, and Bishop Campbell was up at the pulpit talking about the joys of eternal families. “Right,” I thought sadly. “Sometimes that seems like a fairy tale.” My parents were divorced; my sister, the only other member in my family, was away at school; and I had no one to sit with in sacrament meeting. I felt warm tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Once again, the depression inside me began to swell and completely overwhelm the messages that were being taught from the stand.
There are probably a lot of you who feel the same way at times. More teens than ever are joining the Church on their own, without having other family members join them in the waters of baptism. Or maybe your parents stop coming and you continue to attend. You wish your family were with you—you wish they were feeling the same spirit, learning the same things, receiving the same blessings. You wish you had someone to lean on, to talk to, to discuss the talks with after the meeting. I know. I’ve sat through countless meetings alone because I didn’t think my friends and their families wanted an intruder to squish in with them on their bench.
Now, for those of you who have always had loving, supportive families to sit with and can’t understand the loneliness your friends are experiencing, you might take a look around and see just how many of them there are. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. Consider going out of your way to invite them to sit with you, even if it means your family will have to sit on two rows. You have no idea how grateful your friends will be.
But for those of you who are going it on your own, here are a few suggestions:
1. Avoid sitting by yourself. Find someone else who is sitting alone, and ask if you can join them. They’ll probably be just as grateful to have a friend by them as you are.
2. Try not to let self-pity get the best of you. It’s easy to think, “I put a lot of effort into coming to church—no one’s dragging me here. I’m here because I want to be. Yet sitting alone reminds me that these people are way ahead of me in the blessing department. They’ve got celestial families, and I’m by myself.” When these thoughts come into your head, concentrate extra hard on the speaker. Pull out the hymnbook and start singing something to yourself (maybe not “Love at Home”). Say a quiet prayer. Read your favorite scripture. Think about the blessings you do have. Do anything to get your mind off the loneliness.
3. Realize that you, and only you, are responsible for your attitudes about church. Don’t try to blame your negative feelings on the actions of others. It’s how you react to those other people that counts. And try not to expect ward members or the Church in general to solve all your problems. That responsibility lies with you.
4. Whatever you do, don’t start resenting those who do have families, and are happily seated with them. They’re not purposely trying to hurt or ignore you, and they’re probably not aware that you’re in so much pain. Be happy for them, and use them as good examples. Vow that one day your children will be able to sit cozily with their family and will never have to suffer the same ordeal that you’re going through.
5. Make a commitment that you’ll always come back. Don’t even consider neglecting church because of the loneliness you sometimes feel there. As you sit in church alone, you might feel bad about your family situation, but at least you can feel good about yourself because you’re doing what you know the Lord wants you to do. If you stay home, you won’t feel good about anyone. Besides, many times the Lord reaches out to you and answers prayers through speakers and through your fellow ward members. Why deprive yourself by missing out on important learning, inspiration, and fellowship?
6. Know that you’re not completely alone. The Lord is with you and is very mindful of you. He’ll bless you for your diligence. He knows that it’s not easy for you to sit there by yourself, and he shares your sorrow. But he also knows that in the long run, the experience can prove useful to you.
7. Realize that you can benefit from the experience. You have to stand on your own two feet when you don’t have anyone to lean on, and this can help you develop inner strength and endurance. You’ll build your own testimony, and not be dependent on anyone else for your devotion. If your mind is open and your heart is pure, the Lord will supply you with the understanding you miss by not having someone there to discuss the meeting with. You’ll develop a strong relationship with Heavenly Father, because there aren’t a lot of other places to turn. And you’ll develop compassion for others in similar circumstances.
Maybe these pointers sound a little idealistic, but I can tell you they work. Every now and then, I still have to sit alone in Church, and it’s still not fun. But these days, I try to relax and count the blessings I’ve received from the experience. I’ve become more aware of other’s needs. While serving a mission, I was able to successfully battle the loneliness a missionary feels when there is no one familiar around. I gained a bit of spiritual self-confidence, because I knew I could do something difficult that the Lord asked of me. But best of all, I developed a very strong relationship with Heavenly Father.

Like many people, I have struggled for much of my life to recognize my self-worth. I have fought weight problems for many years, which have contributed to my negative feelings. Even though I have lost weight and lead a healthy lifestyle now, occasionally I still find myself fighting off those negative thoughts and feelings.
One morning I felt particularly low and was wondering how to make the situation better. I began to pray and ask for Heavenly Father’s help to overcome these feelings of inadequacy. As I prayed, the following scripture came to my mind: “If ye have no hope ye must needs be in despair; and despair cometh because of iniquity” (Moroni 10:22).
Iniquity seemed to be such a serious word, so much so that at first I discounted the thought because I could think of nothing that I had done seriously wrong. However, the thought persisted, so I prayed, as instructed also by Moroni, for Heavenly Father to show me my weakness that I might be made strong (see Ether 12:27).
I found myself remembering three incidents during the previous two days when I had not shown patience with my children. I had put my own moods and needs in front of theirs and had not been sensitive to their feelings. I felt bad and resolved to do better. I apologized to my children and prayed for forgiveness. As soon as I prayed, my feelings of inadequacy were lifted and I was able to feel the peace that had eluded me.
As though a light switch turned on in my mind, I finally understood a simple concept that somehow I had missed all these years. When I have unresolved sin in my life, even if it is small, I give Satan power to influence me. He knows my weaknesses, and he knows what words will “stir me up” and “lead me to destruction” (see D&C 10:22). When it comes right down to it, I don’t hate myself, but Satan does hate me and will use every tactic available to turn me away from the light.
However, when I repent, I rely on the power of Jesus Christ. Because He knows perfectly how to succor me in my weakness (see Alma 7:11–12), His power lifts me up and makes me strong in ways that I can’t be on my own.
Likewise, I will do my best to repent and obey the commandments so the “power of Christ may rest upon me” and I can be filled with peace and love.

Sara slipped into the long, soft, blue robe that she was to wear in the Christmas program. Pulling the matching hood over her brown curls, she turned to Jennie. “Do I look like Mary now?”
Jennie grinned. “You sure do, except for your size. It won’t matter, though, because Joseph is only eight too.”
Sara giggled at Jennie’s joke, then sobered. “I really wanted to be Mary in the program, but now that it’s time, I’m kind of scared.”
Jennie reached out to straighten the folds on Sara’s robe. “You’ll do just fine. Everything went well at rehearsal this morning.”
Sara’s stomach gave a little lurch when she heard the organ begin playing “Silent Night.” That was her cue to go on stage.
Sister Perkins came over and smiled at both girls. Looking at Sara, she said, “The curtains will be opening soon. It’s time for you to take your place.”
Sara hurried to her spot and sat down on a bale of straw. Eric, who was playing Joseph, was already there beside the manger. As Sara bent to arrange the blankets around the doll representing Baby Jesus, she heard the music change and the gentle strains of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” swell.
The curtains slowly opened on the quiet scene. A single spotlight highlighted Mary and Joseph admiring the Baby Jesus. Neither Mary nor Joseph had to say anything. Brother Egger stood out of sight with a microphone and told about the events of Jesus’ birth as they were silently portrayed on stage. The organ played softly while he spoke: “And it came to pass in those days, …”
Sara was distracted by something moving just below the stage. She moved her eyes carefully, trying not to turn her head and spoil the scene. There, climbing the stairs to the stage was her four-year-old sister, Katie.
Sara’s heart sank as Katie came toward her. What shall I do? she wondered. Why isn’t Katie sitting with Mom and Dad? Sara sneaked a peek at her parents. Her mother wore a stricken, helpless look. Sara felt Katie brush against her knees as she bent to look into the manger. Katie’s going to ruin the Christmas program! Why did she have to do this?
Sara was startled out of her thoughts by Katie’s awed “Oh! He’s beautiful!”
As Katie continued to just stand and intently watch the doll in the manger, Sara swallowed and felt calm. There was something about the spell around Katie that Sara couldn’t bring herself to break. I think the best thing to do is just let her stay, Sara decided. She’s being quiet.
So Sara reached out and slipped her arm around her sister’s shoulder and nestled Katie next to her on the bale of straw. Katie relaxed against Sara, still gazing lovingly at the Baby Jesus.
Katie sat watching quietly as the shepherds came. The organist played “The First Noel,” and Brother Egger read from the Bible about the shepherds coming to see Jesus. Even after the shepherds had left and the Wise Men had entered, Katie leaned against Sara, enraptured.
Katie really loves Baby Jesus, Sara thought. I don’t blame her for wanting to get close and see better. She gave Katie a little squeeze. I’m really glad now that she came.
When the curtains closed, Sara gently whispered into Katie’s ear, “It’s time for the next scene, so you must go back to Mommy and Daddy.”
Katie looked at her sister. “OK.” She started to leave, then paused and turned. “Thanks, Sara. I liked looking at Baby Jesus with you.”
Sara smiled. “I’m glad.” She led Katie to the side stage door. “Now go back to Mom.”
After the program the students looked through the crowd for their families. Just as Sara found her parents, she overheard an elderly man speaking to her mother. “I’m so glad I came. Because of your girls, I caught a glimpse of the Savior tonight that I’d never seen before. Thanks.”
Nobody at home said anything about Katie’s unexpected appearance in the program until Mother tucked Sara into bed. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Katie,” Mother said, “but I’m really sorry she barged in on your program. She’d slipped off Dad’s lap, and by the time we realized what she was doing, she was up in front, and it was too late to stop her.” Mother sat down beside Sara on her bed. “I hope it didn’t ruin things for you.”
“No. It was fine, Mother.” Sara squeezed her mother’s hand.
“I really admire the way you handled it,” Mother continued. “It’s hard to know what to do at times like that. What you did was beautiful. Usually people giggle when something unplanned happens, but people got especially quiet after Katie said how beautiful the baby was.”
“At first I was really worried,” Sara admitted. “I didn’t know what to do. Then I realized that the real Mary would have wanted her sister, as well as shepherds and Wise Men, to see her baby. Anyway, there was something special about Katie tonight. It was as though she really understood about Baby Jesus somehow.”
“You’re right, Sara.” Mother’s voice was soft. “Several people came up to me afterward and said the same thing. Even though Katie’s part in the program wasn’t planned, I think it touched people’s hearts. I think a lot of people will never forget tonight’s program.”
Sara settled back on her pillow. “I’m glad.”
Mother bent to kiss Sara. “I think you’re really special too. You taught us older folks a lot in the kind way you treated your sister. I’m sure Jesus was pleased with how you represented His mother tonight.”

Photograph by Randy Collier
Our son, David, would be turning eight in less than a year. My husband and I wanted him to be prepared to make the sacred covenants of baptism. That meant doing things like reading the Book of Mormon, studying the baptismal covenants, and reviewing the baptismal interview questions. We had done all this before with David’s older sister, but David has autism, so deciding if he should be baptized was not as straightforward for us.
Yes, we knew what to do to help him prepare, but looming over all of this preparation were the questions: Should David be baptized? Was he ready? Did he need to be baptized? Did he understand what he would be committing to? How could we know for sure that we were doing the right thing?
Like many parents who have a child with a disability, these questions led us on a journey of seeking doctrinal insights and personal revelation.
Doctrine and Covenants 68:27 reads, “And their children shall be baptized for the remission of their sins when eight years old, and receive the laying on of the hands.”
If we relied solely on this scripture, we would conclude that any eight-year-old is ready to be baptized. However, the scriptures also teach:
“Little children are redeemed … through mine Only Begotten;
“Wherefore, they cannot sin … until they begin to become accountable before me” (Doctrine and Covenants 29:46–47; see also Moroni 8:7–22).
How could my husband and I understand if David was accountable? We continued to search.
We learned from Church policy that the individual’s accountability depends on both his wishes and his level of understanding: if David was worthy and desirous to be baptized and demonstrated that he could be held accountable, we should not withhold baptism from him.
We also learned that if David’s disability limited his intellectual capacity to that of a little child, he would not be held accountable and would not need saving ordinances (see General Handbook: Serving in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 38.2.1.8, ChurchofJesusChrist.org; members who have questions about Church policies can consult with their bishops).
David’s intellectual capacity was actually quite typical. However, I still found myself questioning whether David had reached an appropriate level of accountability. I continued to prayerfully search and hope for direction that would bring me peace.
I know some parents who have a child with a disability who take great comfort from reading that those who pass through mortality without having become accountable retain the status of innocence: “All little children are alive in Christ. … For the power of redemption cometh on all them that have no law; … and unto such baptism availeth nothing” (Moroni 8:22).
The Prophet Joseph Smith also described the condition of children who die and have not become accountable: “And I also beheld that all children who die before they arrive at the years of accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom of heaven” (Doctrine and Covenants 137:10).
I know that for these individuals, baptism is not necessary in this life. I also knew that God would help us to know what would be best for David.
For those with disabilities, there is a large range of abilities. Many individuals with disabilities are above the mental level of eight years and may be baptized and confirmed if they become accountable (see General Handbook, 38.2.3.5, ChurchofJesusChrist.org). Other individuals will not be accountable. I knew my husband and I could consult with our son, with God, and with our bishop, who stands as a “judge in Israel,” to help make the inspired decision concerning David’s readiness to be baptized (see Doctrine and Covenants 107:76).
These words from Alma brought me great peace: “And now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, … what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?” (Mosiah 18:8, 10).
After all of our preparation, all of our lessons at home and in Primary, I started to ask David questions I knew he would be asked in his baptismal interview.
Sometimes his responses demonstrated understanding, but sometimes he didn’t know how to respond. I found myself wondering if we were doing the right thing.
Finally, the Spirit whispered to my heart, “Why don’t you ask David what he thinks?”
I turned to David and asked, “David, do you want to be baptized?”
He looked right up at me and said, “Yes!”
When I asked him why he wanted to be baptized, he said, “To be like Jesus.”
I was overcome with peace and direction. I knew right then that even if David didn’t understand every question perfectly, he was ready to be baptized and confirmed. He knew what he needed to know, and most importantly, he knowingly had a desire to enter God’s kingdom through baptism.
The day David was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was full of love, friendship, and peace. The room was filled with family, ward members, school friends, and even teachers from David’s school. The example David set that day of choosing to follow Jesus and be baptized was an example that influenced many for good. Our family is stronger because we had the opportunity to learn how the works of God would be made manifest through our son, David (see John 9:3).

When I was taking a bath one morning I could see what I thought was a bar of soap on a shelf high above me. I reached up to grab it. Suddenly I had a strong feeling that I should not pick it up. I said to myself, “Who knows what could be up there?”
When I stood up to see what was on the shelf, I discovered that the blue and red object I had seen was not my soap but a razor. If I had grabbed it, I could have cut my hand on the sharp edge. The Holy Ghost warned me, and because I listened I wasn’t hurt.Christina G., age 8, Missouri

While serving a mission, I had many opportunities to use the musical skills that I had learned. I relished the many opportunities to sing and play the piano and played nearly every week in sacrament meeting. I will always remember listening to those faithful Guatemalan members singing the hymns. I taught members new hymns that they weren’t familiar with. I taught some basic piano lessons. My companions and I would sing to the people we were teaching. Even if we sang off-key, the Spirit was always there to touch the hearts of the people.

“I think I’m just a normal member of the Church,” says Genia Slepukhina, 17, of Vyborg. “I can maybe go on a hike like this, in good weather with all of my friends. But I don’t really know what it would be like in the winter without food and fuel and shoes. I don’t know if I could do what they had to do.”
But Genia has already proven she can do some things they had to do, like endure persecution. When she first joined the Church, former friends at school scorned her.
“They said, ‘You are not like we are so we won’t speak with you,’” Genia explains. “One teacher said, ‘I will quiz you every day on my subject. Every day. And I know Mormons must be truthful, so don’t lie to me if you’re not prepared.’ That was hard, because I have six or seven subjects each day, and I must prepare for every one.”
Sometimes classmates would even hit her. “But my family, Church friends, and the missionaries really helped me,” Genia says. “They gave me great examples to follow. One of the missionaries showed me Matthew 5:10–12 [Matt. 5:10–12], where the Savior says if you are persecuted because of your faith, you will be blessed. So I kept after it. I always tried to testify of the truth. I think a lot of people thought my belief was just a temporary thing, and in time it would go away. Now they know it’s here to stay.”

Ariana walked slowly down the sidewalks which at that time of the morning were beginning to fill with people rushing from one place to the next. Many were going to work, while others were taking their children to school. The intersections became congested with traffic and some drivers became impatient in their rush to get to their destinations on time.
Ariana had just walked Sandra, her daughter, to school. There was a school bus, but she preferred to take the child to school herself every day. She enjoyed the morning walk, as well as the evening walk when she went to pick her up, and it also gave her the chance to spend precious minutes with her little Sandra.
They always talked as they walked. The child had so many things to say, so many little secrets to share, so many laughs to laugh. This tiny little person opened a whole new world to Ariana that was fascinating to explore and discover.
This morning, however, Ariana already felt tired and even a little sad. Her husband was out of town for a few days and she missed the comfort and support she received as a wife and mother, and in her Church callings. And also there was another child on the way.
Suddenly Ariana felt overwhelmed by the countless things that she had to attend to, and too tired to walk all the way back home. Her brisk stroll was part of her physical exercise program, but this morning something inside of her was rebelling. The distance to her home seemed just too far to walk. She decided to wait for the bus at the next stop.
While she waited, she reflected sadly that her decision hadn’t alleviated her feeling of discouragement. Nevertheless, something inside of her made her stay. She thought of her husband, who at that time would be driving his car far from home on unfamiliar roads. His work demanded extensive travel and she always feared that something would happen to him.
She also thought of Sister Lago, who was sick with hepatitis, and who could barely get out of bed. Ariana was her visiting teacher and she wondered how she could further help Sister Lago without neglecting her own responsibilities.
Her thoughts turned to little Sandra, who had been sick with a cold for three days, and she wondered if she should take her to the doctor.
It also occurred to her that she should write to her mother, as it had been a long time since she had done so. Now that Ariana and her brothers and sisters were grown and living away from home, their parents must feel quite lonely.
As these thoughts passed through her mind, and as she reflected on all the responsibilities that awaited her that day and in the days to come, she again felt overwhelmed and wished her husband were home so she could turn to him.
Standing on the crowded bus, she remembered something else: she had forgotten that she needed to buy some tomatoes for the salad she was going to make. If she had walked, she would have bought them on the way. The bus would pass in front of several supermarkets, but it wouldn’t stop.
She sighed, feeling even more melancholy, and on doing so felt the impulse to look to her left. Close to her, also standing, was another woman whose eyes met hers. A little embarrassed, Ariana decided to smile, to which the unknown woman responded fleetingly and then looked in the other direction.
Ariana’s thoughts returned to the tomatoes. “I’ll get off one stop before mine, and I’ll buy them at Alfredo’s store,” she decided. “Then I’ll walk home. It’s not very far.”
A seat became vacant and Ariana hurried to take it. But as she was sitting down, she accidentally collided with the woman who had looked at her a few moments earlier.
“Excuse me,” they both said at the same time.
“Sit down,” offered Ariana.
“No, please, you take it,” the stranger declined.
Ariana thanked her and dropped into the vacant seat, truly grateful. The bus continued on and for a few moments Ariana looked at the woman. She was plainly dressed and her eyes looked tired and sad. They were light brown and had large circles under them. Then the stranger turned around abruptly, and Ariana smiled again, this time a little flustered at having been caught watching her. Turning to look out the window at the morning traffic, she wondered why she felt there was still something else that she should do that day. The feeling had persisted and it had nothing to do with the tomatoes.
A few minutes later, the seat next to her was vacated and she quickly advised the woman. “Ma’am, there’s a vacant seat here,” she said smiling. The woman mumbled a “Thank you” and sat down beside her. Each time Ariana glanced at the woman, she’d discover that this stranger was also looking at her. She decided to start a conversation.
“We’re having a delightful autumn aren’t we?” The woman didn’t seem too eager to talk, but Ariana felt a warmth toward her. In an effort to encourage her, Ariana told her about her poor memory and how she had forgotten that she should have walked home because she needed to buy some tomatoes.
“If you’d like,” the woman responded, “I could sell you some of my tomatoes. I grow them in my own yard and right now I’ve got too many.”
“I would like that very much,” exclaimed Ariana enthusiastically. “Homegrown things are always better anyway, aren’t they?”
When the stranger told her that she lived three stops past Ariana’s, Ariana hesitated for a moment. She would have to go past her house and then return home loaded down with the tomatoes. That would be a waste of time, and she couldn’t allow herself to waste time when she had so many things to do. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to offend this woman, whom she was beginning to like, and so she agreed to go with her.
By the time they got off the bus, Ariana had found out that the woman’s name was Teresa. Together they walked along a row of small houses with yards until they came to a humble, but very clean and well-cared-for house.
“How marvelous!” exclaimed Ariana. “I’ve always wanted a home with a yard. We live in an apartment, and sometimes we feel caged in.”
Teresa smiled, but said nothing, as she led Ariana around to the back of the house, where she had her small garden. The two women began to pick tomatoes, putting them in a little basket which Teresa had let Ariana use. While picking, Teresa began to open up and talk more. She told Ariana that she had recently been widowed, and that her only child had to quit school and go to work in a factory so that they could make ends meet.
With the little basket full and her back hurting a little from the exertion, Teresa asked:
“Would you like to come in for a nice hot drink before you go?”
Ariana thought despairingly, “Time! I can’t; I can’t waste any more time!” But something urged her to say, “Yes, I’d love to.”
A few minutes later, they were seated across from each other at the kitchen table with cups of steaming hot chocolate. Little by little, Teresa began to tell Ariana about herself.
“It was funny how we happened to keep looking at each other on the bus,” she said, laughing. “Nothing like it has ever happened to me before. I’ve been so lonely, so lonely. …”
Suddenly her eyes clouded and Ariana thought she saw pain and sadness in them. Teresa started to talk of the financial struggle that she and her husband had had since they were married, and how he had often been unemployed, and of the many hardships they had gone through so that their daughter could get an education, only to see her quit half way through and go to work in a trade where she was practically a slave.
Then Teresa became even more serious and, almost as if talking to herself, asked why it sometimes felt as if God were looking in the other direction. It felt as if no one in the whole world, including God, loved her. As she spoke the lines around her mouth hardened and her eyes took on a bitter expression.
Ariana searched desperately for something to say. Surely there was something in the gospel for this sweet and anguished sister. But she could think of nothing. Any words of comfort seemed vain and empty against the burden of reality that this woman had experienced.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this,” mumbled Teresa, looking down.
Ariana responded, not knowing who put the words in her mouth: “Because the Lord has sent me.”
Teresa broke into tears. At first Ariana thought that she should say something to comfort her, but she soon saw that her new friend was crying out of gratitude.
When she had recovered a little, Teresa explained, “I can’t believe it,” she began. “Last night, I had a dream, a very strange dream. I was walking in a deep, dark place and I didn’t even know where I was going. I felt as if an abyss was going to open up beneath my feet. All of a sudden I met a woman whose entire being shone with a special light. She approached me and I looked hopefully to her for the light that she brought. Then I asked her, ‘Why have you come?’ And she answered me. …” Teresa’s voice cracked. “She answered me the same way you have, Ariana: ‘Because the Lord has sent me.’”
They looked at each other in silence. Ariana felt very peaceful now. “Neither take ye thought beforehand what ye shall say;” the Lord said, “but treasure up in your minds continually the words of life, and it shall be given you in the very hour that portion that shall be meted unto every man.” (D&C 84:85.) That is how it had happened. The spirit had inspired her to say the exact words that Teresa needed to hear.
“I want to know more about you,” said Teresa. “I want us to be friends.”
Ariana took her by the hand. “Can you see that the Lord never looks away?” she said gently.
“Do you belong to any kind of church?” Teresa asked curiously. Ariana began to tell her and Teresa listened with great interest. When Ariana invited her to attend their next family home evening, Teresa assured her that she would be there with her daughter.
“We have been searching for the light for so long,” she added, while they both stood up.
They hugged each other for a few moments and then Ariana picked up her purse, her coat and her tomatoes. Once in the street, she felt relieved and strengthened. “Truly, only in the service of our fellow men do we find happiness,” she thought. “That is the secret.”
It was late and lunch would be delayed that day. She would prepare a good salad and would take it to Sister Lago and they would eat it together. She would make an appointment with the pediatrician and have him look at Sandra as soon as possible to set her mind at ease. That night she would call her husband at the hotel and try to be the one to give encouragement. She would tell him, “We are thinking of you here at home and we love you.” Later, after putting Sandra to bed and before going to bed herself, she would write a letter to her mother and send her the recipe she asked for so long ago.
A spirit of joy flooded her heart, and while she waited at the curb for the light to turn green, she realized that the feeling of still having something else to do had left her. She had listened to the whisperings of the spirit, and had put the kingdom of God first, and everything else had been added unto her.

Let me share with you an example of the results of daily determination and performance.
In 1960 the Olympics were held in Melbourne, Australia. There on the winner’s platform in the spotlight one day stood a beautiful, tall, blonde American girl. She was being presented a gold medal, symbolic of first place in worldwide competition. As she stood there, some boys whistled and others were heard to say, “There’s a gal who has everything.”
Tears ran down her cheeks as she accepted the recognition. Many thought she was touched by the victory ceremony. The thing most of the audience did not know was the story of her determination, self-discipline, and daily action. At the age of five she had polio. When the disease left her body, she couldn’t use her arms or legs. Her parents took her daily to a swimming pool where they hoped the water would help hold her arms up as she tried to use them again. When she could lift her arm out of the water with her own power, she cried for joy. Then her goal was to swim the width of the pool, then the length, then several lengths. She kept on trying, swimming, enduring, day after day after day, until she won the gold medal for the butterfly stroke—one of the most difficult of all swimming strokes—in Melbourne, Australia.
What if Shelly Mann had not been encouraged to achieve at age five and to continue and overcome? What a tremendous asset were parents who assisted her in the importance of now and today in preparation for tomorrow.

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
1. Hurrah! Dad’s going to build our playhouse today!
I’m going to start building it, big guy. It’s not a one-day job.
2. C’mon, Daddy, start sawing and hammering! Why are you reading those papers?
They’re the plans for the playhouse.
3. You don’t need plans, Dad. Just make it look like this picture.
I can’t without the plans. They were drawn by someone who knows a lot more about building playhouses than I do.
4. Several days later
Here, Dad, put this board right over there.
Let’s check the plans. It looks like it goes over here, instead, if we want a window in this wall.
5. Still later
Let’s make this bench longer.
Look at the plans, Princess. That wouldn’t leave room for the cupboard.
6. Finally …
Wow, Dad, you’re a good playhouse builder!
Well, I had some good helpers.
And some good plans.

Let me give you my own experience. While serving as president of the Calgary Stake in Alberta, Canada, I was attending the general conference in Salt Lake City in October, 1960. On Friday evening I received a call at my hotel advising me that President McKay wanted to see me Saturday morning—the next morning. Naturally, not knowing what he wanted, I slept very little that night. I met him in his office at the appointed hour. As I sat in a chair facing him, he looked me in the eye, put his hand on my knee, and said, “President Tanner, the Lord would like you to accept a call as a General Authority, as an Assistant to the Twelve.” Then he asked how I felt about it.

I do not know exactly what I said. I tried to assure him that I felt highly honored and very inadequate, but ready and willing to accept a call and to give my whole time and effort in the service of the Lord.

That morning my name was read, along with the names of Elders Franklin D. Richards and Theodore M. Burton, to be sustained as Assistants to the Twelve, with the other general officers of the Church. We were approved by the conference. Officers throughout the Church are selected in much the same way at their particular level.

Before long, a shiny new chapel will be completed in Paterson, New Jersey. It’s currently under construction, and all the Church members in the Garden State’s third largest city are pretty excited.
But for now, members of the Paterson Second Branch still attend church in the annex of the Paterson City Hall, a building the branch rents for its meetings.
And though some members may not notice, the annex is cleaner than any other building on the street.
Fourteen-year-old Hector “Tito” Hernandez knows why.
In downtown Paterson, and especially on Market Street, where the annex is located, pigeons gather everywhere and leave—ahem—their marks on the buildings. Although clean on the inside, the outside leaves something to be desired.
When Tito joined the Church three years ago, he first attended the Caldwell Ward. When he moved into the Paterson Second Branch, he noticed how messy the annex’s exterior was. That started him to thinking. After discussions with his branch president, Tito decided what needed to be done.
So each Friday, Tito shows up at the building to make sure it is clean for Sunday services.
A little hot water, some soap, and a lot of effort on the granite building always do the trick. Even the mailbox, which sits right outside the front door, gets the treatment. At first, due to years of neglect, Tito had his work cut out for him. “The first couple of times were hard. But every week that went by, it got easier and easier,” he says.
“We want people to join our church,” Tito adds. “It makes me feel pretty good because I know [nonmembers] look at our church. I want the building to look nice for them.”
The routine is set. Tito gets out of school then either walks, rides his bike, or gets a ride downtown from his home on 10th Avenue. It might be 95 degrees outside or the wind could be howling while snow falls. It doesn’t matter. Tito is going to be there cleaning the place.
And Tito isn’t working solo any more. What started out as a project by himself has evolved. Now he’s enlisted the help of fellow ward members Jose Jimenez and Jose’s younger brother, Edwin. The trio arrive at the building, and the caretaker lets them in. They grab the familiar red bucket, fill it with soap and water, and head out the door for a few minutes of cleaning. The boys, huge sports fans, then fill their cleaning time with discussions about which basketball player has the best jump shot or who is baseball’s best shortstop.
Funny how fast the time goes when you’re doing something worthwhile.
Funny how good they all feel when they’ve finished the job.
“We do it for free,” says Jose, 13. “We want to because we do it for God.”
Tito and Jose also understand the importance of example as Aaronic Priesthood holders, especially for Edwin, who turns 12 later this year.
“Tito and Jose are teaching me how to become a deacon,” Edwin says. “They show me how the priesthood works. I want to be an honest, respectable young man.”
And sometimes being honorable and respectable means you have to be up to your armpits in suds.

He walked into the seminary classroom somewhat frightened, maybe a little belligerent, certainly not at ease. He came because most of the students in his grade came to seminary, but he came alone. Few spoke to him; no one walked with him. He had almost no friends.
For one so young his life had been a most difficult one. His father had been killed in a drunken brawl. His mother was not interested in sending her children to church, and she was not really interested in sending them to school. She was on state welfare, and much of that money was used to purchase liquor for herself and her boyfriends. There were two other children in the family; all three had different fathers.
Even the most basic material goods were lacking in the home, including adequate food and clothing. The boy had only a sweater to keep him warm in the cold weather. As he walked to school, he would take the sweater off as he approached the building because it had large holes in it and he didn’t want his peers to see. (I say peers because he had no friends.) He wore no socks because he had none. His hands were rough and chapped because the house had only cold water and no soap with which to wash. This boy was thin and lacked vitality. Food was not plentiful, and that available was of the junk food variety. He lived in an unkempt area on the far side of town and was uncomfortable when he visited any other section of the community.
The first day of class I invited him to sit on the front row. He did so willingly but not comfortably. I tried to make friends with him, but it was very difficult. He appeared to trust no one.
After school had been in session for several weeks, I asked if he would like to give the prayer. He quickly and emphatically refused. I later learned that he had never heard a prayer until his first day in that class. He had never been to church, he had never belonged to the Boy Scouts, he had never held the priesthood. As the days passed there was little change in his willingness to communicate, to smile, or to seek friends.
A month before the Christmas holidays, one young lady requested class time to present a matter of concern. The young man was absent that day, and as she stood before the group her message was simply, “We are not friendly with him, we do not speak with him, we do not walk with him, we do not associate with him. This seems to me to be very wrong. After all, he is important too.” Then she suggested that they could and should be friendly to him and help him to understand how important he was—his importance to them and to himself. They all agreed to respond to her recommendations. Then she suggested that they each contribute a small amount of money toward buying him a coat for Christmas. This they also willingly accepted.
One did not have to be told they were succeeding. It was in his eyes, in his walk, and in his smile. It was obvious to everyone that there was a change in his life. He walked a little taller. He was able to look others in the eye and smile as he extended a friendly greeting.
One day there was a note on the teacher’s desk which read, “If you cannot find someone to give the prayer today, I will,” and he signed his name. Strangely enough no one would give the prayer that day, so I called on him. He did not close his eyes. He did not fold his arms. He did not bow his head or do any of the things we normally do in prayer. He simply looked up to the ceiling with his hands by his side and said, “Oh, God, help us. Amen.” No one smiled. No one coughed. No one said a word. It was a wonderful prayer to him and to every member of the class.
Two or three days before the Christmas vacation, the young lady who had proposed the plan came to class with a beautifully wrapped Christmas package and again requested class time. She stood and thanked each of the students for their kindness and their willingness to respond to her earlier suggestions. Then she spoke for just a moment about the value of individuals regardless of their status in life, their home background, their scholastic abilities, or their popularity. She said that every one is very important. The young man, a bit suspicious at first, suddenly became aware the young lady was about to involve him in a new experience.
After some moments, she took him by the arm and had him stand by her side. She told him how much they appreciated him and how valuable he was to the class. She said they all appreciated him and were pleased he was their friend. By now he had tears in his eyes, but so did the teacher and most of the class. She then laid the package in his arms, and the tears increased. After a moment or two passed, another young man in the class said, “If you will open the package you can see what’s in it.”
Slowly, methodically, with great care and a desire not to tear the paper, he opened the package and held up a beautiful jacket. He continued to display his emotions, and so did the class. After some moments, the same boy said, “If you’ll unzip it you can put it on.” He opened the zipper and slowly put his arms into each sleeve, pulling the jacket around him and displaying a happy smile through the tears. He wore the coat every day until the last week in May.
Something had happened in his life that had never happened before. Someone gave him something, and in that gift was an expression of appreciation and love that he had never known. He later related to some of us that he had only had one Christmas present in 14 years, and that had been an orange.
Needless to say, the young man’s life had changed. He became happy in his school work, he participated in many activities, the other students enjoyed him, and he made many friends. If the story ended there it would be a great story, and the young lady who recognized the worth of a soul would have performed a miracle. But the miracle continued. This young man filled a mission, married in the temple, and is the father of two lovely children. One of the other children, his half sister, has also married in the temple. She and her fine husband are both active in the Church. The third child, a half brother, also filled a mission and has completed his college work. And the mother—oh, yes, the mother. She reports that each night she thanks her Heavenly Father for many things, including a young lady who knew the value of her son and was willing to make her feelings known. Secondly, she thanks her Heavenly Father for the great principle of repentance and forgiveness. Third, she thanks him for her membership in the Church, for a loving Savior who helped a family change. Then she thanks him for the privilege of being the secretary in her ward Relief Society and for the love and kindness of all her sisters there.
Yes, he was someone special, and the class was special.

Each Dominican youth has a cherished conversion story to tell. “I was invited to a church activity with some friends,” says Pedro Rodriguez, “and was really impressed. I began reading the scriptures on my own, and I knew I wanted to be a missionary and share what those books contained with everyone else. I was baptized soon after that, and I’m waiting my year before I can serve. I never knew I could feel so much.”

Michael Flynn and son Elder Jaswant Flynn (from the Meltham Ward in the Huddersfield Stake) experienced a unique opportunity to appreciate God’s creations and to serve Heavenly Father from opposite ends of the world. At Rothera Antarctica, Michael, an instrument specialist at The University of Manchester, spent three weeks in January making airborne measurements of clouds over the Southern Ocean from a British Antarctic Survey Twin Otter aircraft.
He says Antarctica is completely different from anywhere else in the world, partly because it is so remote. It has no permanent inhabitants and has penguins rather than polar bears, and the huge floating ice shelves that are unique to Antarctica.
Of his experience in Antarctica, he says, “I am in awe of the complete white expanse and wilderness and have an appreciation of the place, a place I would go back to. Experiencing the beauty of nature and its variety in different parts of the world increases my appreciation for what Heavenly Father has created for us and strengthens my testimony in Him.”
Near the North Pole, Elder Flynn, or Vanhin Flynn as he is addressed, serves as a missionary in the Helsinki Finland Mission. He says, “I‘ve been serving in the Finland Helsinki Mission since September 2022 — I‘m so happy to be here! It got VERY cold in the winter where I served in Kemi in Northern Finland, but I guess it gave me a feel for what my dad felt at the same time in Antarctica.
“The language is very difficult, but I‘ve seen the blessing of hard work, perseverance and enduring to the end, so much, as I‘ve tried to learn and speak more. Having also served in the Swedish speaking area of Finland, therefore being assigned to learn Swedish and Finnish, I‘ve really had to develop my faith and understanding of God, as well as striving to be obedient and doing everything I can to be blessed with the gift of tongues.
“I‘ve also grown in my testimony more on my mission so far more than I did my whole life before. I‘ve already seen so many blessings of serving a mission, and even though there are many trials, so many more blessings come as we endure through them. It was interesting being basically on the other side of the world to my dad — but such a blessing that, through technology, even though we were tens of thousands of miles apart, we could still communicate.
“The blessings of being a missionary have been evident to not just me, but many family members and friends also. And they are not limited. If you can serve a mission, do! The Lord will bless you and so many others for it, family, friends, members, nonmembers — on both sides of the veil!”
Helsinki Finland Mission President Ville Kervinen, a native of Finland, provides insight into the climate and culture of Finnish people. He says they are most loyal, with Church statistics reflecting this, which helps to shape missionaries’ attitudes towards service and missionary work generally. The North is a quality of mind. He grew up in Rovaniemi, near the Arctic Circle and he and Sister Leena Kervinen, through inspiration, spent their married life there. He says,“There is a difference in attitude about life even between northern and southern Finland. All the Finns are very independent-minded, but those living in the more extreme climate and isolation of the North are even more so. They hold onto their culture more naturally, being further away from Helsinki and the cosmopolitan influences there. We have the identity of a northern person, and we are grateful for it. After our mission we will return to the North to continue serving there.”
Even though father and son were far apart, they still found a way to appreciate the gospel and to serve others.