Gospel Story Finder

As a witness of the Lord Jesus Christ, I bear witness of the Book of Mormon that led me to Him. I found the Lord Jesus Christ within the covers of the Book of Mormon as a 19-year-old missionary, walking through the rain and the mud of England, riding a bike with mud clear up the back of my coat and over the top of my head, tracting in cities that had never been opened, with baptisms that did not come for a long time. Those nights I went back to No. 3 Gilmore Road and read and read and wept. I knew that Jesus was the Christ, that the Book of Mormon was true, that the gospel had been restored. If the folks in England didn’t understand that, then I would just keep knocking on their doors until they did.

These thoughts ran through my mind for the next several months. One evening in September 2007, my mother, my three younger siblings, and I were leaving a deli in my hometown of Haverhill, Massachusetts, USA, and stopped to sit on a bench. Two young men in black suits, white shirts, and ties approached us. One of them said, “I know it may seem a little bit awkward to talk to two people you don’t know, but could we share a message with you?”
We agreed. I knew they were going to talk to us about religion, and I was impressed that they didn’t just thrust a card or pamphlet at us and walk off. Rather, these young men genuinely seemed interested in us and excited about their message. At the conclusion of their message, they asked if they could visit our family. My mother agreed and set up a time, so I have her to thank for what became a great change for good in my life.
We started learning the gospel. After a while Mom became busy with different things and didn’t continue to meet with the missionaries, but I did.
I connected easily with Elder Kelsey and Elder Hancock. Perhaps part of the reason was that they weren’t that much older than I was. I felt great love from them and for them. Soon I felt that same love from ward members and from other youth in my stake.
The missionaries taught me the plan of salvation, which answered the questions I had about my uncle and about my own purpose in life. The elders also introduced me to the Book of Mormon. I remember reading in Alma 32 about the seed of faith developing and tasting good (see verse 28). That description was exactly how the Book of Mormon seemed to me. What I was reading and what the missionaries were teaching me rang true, felt right, and tasted good.
My mom teased me about what she called my “hermit crab stage” because I would retreat to my bedroom and spend several hours reading the Book of Mormon. Although I didn’t recognize my feelings as the Holy Ghost at that time, I felt that this path was right.
When the missionaries asked me to be baptized, they encouraged me to pray about the decision. When I prayed to know if joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was what I was supposed to do, I received a very direct answer, to the point that it shocked me. The direction was clear: go forward with baptism.
I remember vividly the day I was baptized—December 15, 2007. As I stood in the cold water with Elder Kelsey and he raised his hand to the square, the Spirit just filled me up; it seemed to take over my whole frame. I could say that I was also grinning from ear to ear, but that description doesn’t even come close to describing what I felt.
After my baptism I continued to feel the Spirit. I felt sanctified. I knew that my sins had been remitted. I felt the approval of Heavenly Father that this was, indeed, the path I was supposed to take.
Occasionally, when little doubts pop up, I go back to that experience and remember how I felt that day. Remembering what I felt then helps me dispel any doubt I may encounter.
Even though we don’t reenter the waters of baptism to have those powerful feelings again, we can remember that feeling when we renew our covenants through repentance and the sacrament. Each time I repent, I can find that feeling again—one of being cleansed and of being loved.
Feeling that love helps me identify with what Joseph Smith taught: “A man filled with the love of God, is not content with blessing his family alone, but ranges through the whole world, anxious to bless the whole human race.”1 Knowing the worth of a soul helps me be excited about opportunities to go teaching with the missionaries in my area. I also look forward to the day when I can serve a full-time mission and share how happy the gospel of Jesus Christ has made me.

Sometimes people judge us for being members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and for being different. Last year I got bullied a lot by people at school. But I felt God’s help when others helped me defend myself from the bullies. It was like a shield of protection from God.
I prayed that I would be able to forgive the people who bullied me. I have forgiven them in my heart, and now I smile at them and say hello when I see them.
I like to help others, like my soccer teammates, not to judge people. I want others to see the whole picture of who I am and who others are.
Matthew H., Arizona, USA

Seven-year-old Íngrid Fabiola Martínez Barredo knows something about temples. When she was five years old, she and her parents were sealed as an eternal family in the México City México Temple. The trip took eighteen hours each way on a bus crowded with members from their ward and stake. Like many members in Tuxtla Gutiérrez, she is thankful to have a temple just minutes away in her own city now.
Even though the long trip to the temple was uncomfortable, Íngrid and the other Primary children accompanying their parents to the temple did their best to make it pleasant. “They sang their favorite hymns and songs on the way, such as ‘Count Your Blessings’ and ‘I Am a Child of God,’”* her dad, Javier, said. Several members on the bus thanked the children for helping make the trip more enjoyable.

One day my family went to a reception. There was a canal behind the home where the reception was being held. After eating refreshments, my brothers, sister, and I went out to jump on the trampoline in the backyard. My mom told me to watch my two-year-old brother, Jadon. We were jumping on the trampoline when I realized that I didn’t know where Jadon was. I had a feeling that I should look over at the fence by the canal. I looked there and saw Jadon climbing over the fence, saying, “Water, water!” I ran over and picked him up. I told him how dangerous it was to go into the canal. I felt good that I had listened to the Holy Ghost.Nicole L., age 10, Idaho

I sat with my mother-in-law on her porch one morning. She said something that was so meaningful to me. For the first time in my life, I heard the Spirit testifying to me that Heavenly Father really existed.
“When you know Heavenly Father is really there,” she said, “everything changes.”
From there, everything did change! My testimony grew as I sought to know more. Now I know when the Spirit speaks to me. I know that sweet feeling when He is near.

Again, it is a wonderful gift to know that we are children of God with a divine purpose. While in Hong Kong a number of years ago, my mother and I went on a tour of that beautiful city and surrounding area. The young woman tour guide became interested in us and asked about our homeland. We told her we were from the state of Utah. We also volunteered that we were Latter-day Saints and asked her if she had seen any Mormon missionaries there. She replied that she had heard of them, but she had no interest in religion or even in a Supreme Being. She then said: “I believe in only one thing, and that is myself—that is how the young generation feel in this city.” She went on to say: “We call it egoism. We believe in doing and accumulating all you can for yourself—no one else matters.”

Many people live their lives this way. It appears that all they care about is themselves. But I had never heard anyone admit to such a philosophy. I was surprised and realized that she was searching for a way to make her life meaningful. I thought of the scripture in Matthew 16:25–26:

For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.

For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

The young lady did not understand who she is. She was not able to enjoy the gift of knowing that she is a daughter of a Heavenly Father and that her life has purpose beyond herself.

I’m four years old! It’s my birthday, and I’m four years old!” said Jennifer, hopping four times around the kitchen.
“Happy birthday, four-year-old,” said Mother, smiling as she put four plates on the table.
“It takes all my fingers on one hand to count to four,” said Jennifer.
“That’s right, birthday girl,” said Daddy, laughing as he came into the kitchen to eat breakfast. “There are a lot of things that are four.”
On the table Jennifer saw four plates, four spoons, four forks, and four knives. There were also four napkins and four glasses.
“Happy birthday!” Stevie called as he came to eat breakfast. Now there were four people in the room. When Stevie smiled, Jennifer saw he had four teeth missing in front.
After breakfast, Jennifer skipped into the family room to feed her goldfish. “One, two, three, four fish,” Jennifer counted. “I’m four years old today!” Jennifer told the fish.
“Let’s go look for a lucky four-leaf clover, Jenny, before Daddy mows the lawn,” said Stevie. “But you better wear your sweater because it’s cold outside.”
Big brothers are fun and nice, Jennifer thought as she buttoned up her sweater—one, two, three, four buttons.
They looked in the clover patch near the flower bed for a four-leaf clover. But all they could find were clovers with three leaves. However, Jennifer did count four pretty finches eating at the bird feeder.
Later, she saw a white cat with four black feet creeping up on a mouse.
David who lived next door was pulling his red wagon with its four squeaky wheels. The milkman came to the door after breakfast and brought four bottles of milk. His milk truck had four wheels too.
Jennifer and Stevie finally gave up looking for four-leaf clovers and went back into the house.
“Surprise!” called four of Jennifer’s friends who had come to help celebrate her birthday.
After the children played games and ate ice cream, Mother brought in a birthday cake with candles flickering on it. The children sang “Happy Birthday to You” and then Jennifer blew out all the candles.
Can you guess how many candles were on Jennifer’s birthday cake?

I encourage you to become familiar with the Book of Mormon, particularly. I remember an incident with my own son. He called me one day to ask if I wouldn’t come up to his bedroom. When I got there, I found he had several books on the bed. He said to me, “You know, I have a job with my uncle herding turkeys this summer. I once heard you say that the turkey is the dumbest animal on the farm, so I assume I’m going to have time on my hands.” Then he asked me to pick out the books I would recommend.

I picked up a little military edition of the Book of Mormon. I said, “This will fit in your hip pocket.”

He said, “You mean to tell me I’m to take only one book?”

I said, “Yes, and you’ll learn to love it, and you’ll learn to love missionary work”—and he did.

Now let me continue my dating saga and tell you how I felt when I really did meet the young man I was to marry. When I look back at our courtship, I remember it as if it were yesterday. My older brother told me that he would like to line me up with a fraternity brother of his who had just returned from his mission to Scotland. I was very surprised. My brother hadn't ever done that before, but this time he said, My friend, Steve Wheelwright, is just perfect for you! You need to meet him. Well, we went to a movie on our first date with my brother and his date and then came back to our home for ice cream.

The next day Steve called and asked if I wanted to go sailing with him and some friends. I had never gone sailing in my life, and I must admit that it was white knuckles the entire day. But we laughed and talked and enjoyed ourselves so much that a few days later he called and asked if I wanted to go play tennis with him. I quickly said yes, and then after hanging up the telephone, I sank back in my chair with fear, knowing that I was a terrible tennis player! I remember walking over to my best friend Monetta's house in panic, asking her what I should do. She laughed and said, Oh Margaret, he isn't asking you to go play tennis because he wants to play tennis; he just wants to be with you! I relaxed a little, borrowed her tennis racket, and went back home and waited for him to arrive. Sure enough, he didn't seem to care that I was a lousy tennis player. We played for about an hour and then we spent the rest of the afternoon talking and enjoying each other's company.

When it came time to take our relationship to the next step, neither one of us seemed afraid or nervous committing ourselves to something more serious. The Spirit truly brought peace and comfort to me as we continued getting to know each other better. Neither of us had much money. We both had part time jobs after school, but Steve was about ready to graduate and continue in his graduate studies, and we both knew we were in love. It just was the most comfortable and natural thing in the world to go to the next level of commitment in our relationship. We became engaged in October of 1965. It was so completely different than my first experience that ended in the jewelry store! Steve had all the important characteristics on my list! He was committed to the gospel; he was kind, thoughtful, hard working, happy, respectful, and devoted to me. He made me a better person when I was with him. What more could I ever ask for?

“Daddy,” Richie whispered into the darkness. “Daddy, are you awake?” The bedroom was silent. “Daddy!” he whispered fiercely.
Dad awakened with a jump. The small figure in the darkness startled him. “Oh, Richie,” he said. “What’s the matter?”
“Daddy, I had a scary dream,” Richie said, his bottom lip trembling.
Dad got out of bed quietly so that he wouldn’t wake Mom. He took Richie’s hand and led him down the hall. After flipping the light on in Richie’s room, he sat down and lifted Richie onto his lap.
“Now, tell me about your dream. What scared you?” Richie told the dream to his dad. He felt safe and warm in his father’s arms.
“I can see why you were scared, Son. But it was just a dream. You’re safe, and Mom and I are just down the hall. Let’s say a little prayer so that you’ll feel better.”
Richie knelt next to his father and buried his eyes in his arms. He quietly asked Heavenly Father to keep him safe and to help him feel better.
When Richie finished his prayer, Dad got up and gave him another hug. Richie smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
Dad tucked him into bed. “I love you, Richie. Good night.”
Richie snuggled into his covers and fell asleep.

Such a project is ongoing on the Pacific Island nation of Kiribati.
Tamana Natanaera, the local self-reliance manager for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was tasked with finding members with gardening experience and a passion for growing things.
Working with local leaders, Tamana helped to identify seven qualified members whom he refers to as “champions.”
Each champion was given the equipment to set up a nursery tailored to fit in his or her available space.
A simple greenhouse was supplied to hold and protect seedling trays, as well as to offer shade as needed. Seeds were provided for growing nutritious produce such as cucumber, eggplant, capsicum, cabbage, tomato, watermelon, papaya and rock melon.
A watering system is a particular necessity in Kiribati. Although the 33 islands that comprise Kiribati stretch across 3.5 million square kilometres of ocean water, fresh water is very scarce.
The champions were thus each provided with a watering system composed of a small solar pump to draw water from a well, a water tank with a stand, and a piping system.
Tamana Natanaera noted that the water system given to the champions is a big help as it greatly improves their ability to produce more.
With these necessary tools, the champion gardeners are able to do their part. For two years now, they have been planting the seeds in the small trays and nurturing them.
When the seedlings are ready to be transplanted into a garden, the champions begin sharing them with neighbours and friends. They may ask their church leaders to announce to their congregation that seedlings are available. They may also give the seedlings to coworkers or to neighbours in their communities who are interested in growing their own produce.
When the champion has seedlings left over, they can transplant them into their own garden for their personal use or they may sell their excess produce to neighbours.
The Church will provide seeds to the champions for one more year and at the end of that period, the gardeners should be capable of producing their own seeds to maintain growing and sharing the seedlings. The program will continue to bless many people in Kiribati communities.
This project is not just an example of growing seedlings, but also of growing self-reliance, community spirit and neighbourly friendships. Underpinning all of this is a growing faith—among many participants—in He who created all things, and who cares for His children, one by one.

For me as a young teenager, school was about putting on an act. You know, the way the bad guy in the movies delivers the smooth, clever lines and comes off super cool in the process? I yearned to be able to do that. I tried to rule the screen just like the best of the bad guys. I pretended my morals were low because I wanted to impress my friends at school. I loved the sound of laughter when I used inappropriate language or joked about people.
I wanted to be the one audiences rooted for. So I figured out how to be a people pleaser. I became a regular comedy act in my biology class, managed to convince my volleyball team I was a party animal, and demolished my reputation as an innocent, naive young woman. I thought, “I don’t want my friends to think I’m a goody-goody!”
Since I wasn’t actually committing the serious sins people thought I was, I desperately tried to convince myself that it was OK to have a rough attitude. I was so wrong! My real-life movie-screen hit reached the point that I couldn’t stand to watch it myself. The more popular I became, the less I liked the character I played.
One day, two of my friends were talking about a sweet, friendly athlete named Jennifer who wasn’t embarrassed to stand up for her beliefs. One of my friends, the most gorgeous, popular, and smartest girl in the seventh grade, said, “Jennifer is so different. I wish I was brave enough to believe in my church like she does. She’s the only person I know who lives her life like that.” I was stunned.
“How could she say something like that without even mentioning me?” I wondered. “After all, my church has high standards!” I was furious that she hadn’t even considered me a good example. Then, suddenly, I felt like I was sitting on the front row of a movie theater showing my life as the main feature.
I reflected on the poor example I had been to my friends. What kind of kid was going to watch me and think, “I wish I was brave and unique like her”? I really disliked who I had become.
Changing my character and reputation was a long process, and I’m still trying to keep my mouth shut instead of blurting out crowd-pleasing insults. But I realized I could make my friends laugh without hurting someone else’s feelings, and I could leave the room during a crude joke without being ridiculed. No one has to be a “bad guy” to have lots of friends. I changed my attitudes and behaviors because being at peace with what I believe is so much cooler than trying to hide who I am.

Christopher smiled. Now he understood. The Holy Ghost had been talking to him, even if he didn’t hear the still, small voice with his ears! Now he said excitedly, “What about last week when I gave my talk in Primary? I’d studied it really hard, but when I got up, I couldn’t remember it. Then I said a quick, little prayer, and suddenly my talk came back to me. That was the Holy Ghost, too, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right,” Dad said. “Helping you remember things is also a part of the gift of the Holy Ghost.”

“OK, Mom, I’m ready to go to my interview,” Jacob said, walking out of his room. He wore his church shirt, nice pants, and his tie knotted backward.
“Did you do your tie by yourself?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, I found the instructions in the back of my Cub Scout book. But it doesn’t look quite right.”
Mom knelt down and helped Jacob turn his tie around, then gave him a hug.
“Mom, why do I need an interview before I get baptized?” Jacob asked as they drove to the church.
“Well, part of the bishop’s job is to make sure you’re getting baptized for the right reasons, not just because you turn eight or your friends are getting baptized.”
When they got to the church, Jacob jumped out of the car, ran inside, and sat down to wait in the foyer. In a few minutes Bishop Simmons came out of his office.
“Hey, Jacob. Looks like it’s your turn.” Bishop Simmons shook Jacob’s hand and led him into the office. “Nice tie.”
Jacob smiled and sat down across from the bishop.
“So, Jacob, you’re getting ready to be baptized.”
“Yup! I can’t wait.”
Bishop Simmons grinned. “Glad to hear it. It’s an important step to get back to Heavenly Father. So let’s talk about why you want to become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“Well, I like that we have a living prophet and the Book of Mormon,” Jacob answered. “We talked about it at home, and I prayed about it too.”
“How did you feel when you prayed about it?”
Jacob twisted his tie around his finger. “It felt right. I want to get baptized like Jesus.”
Bishop Simmons pointed at the picture of Jesus on his wall. “Jesus is our very best example. Tell me about when He was baptized.”
Jacob’s feet swung as he talked. “Jesus asked John the Baptist to baptize Him. They went to the River Jordan, and Jesus went all the way under the water. That’s called immersion. Jesus made Heavenly Father happy, and I want to be like Jesus.”
“I can tell you’ve been learning a lot about this. Have you learned what happens when you’re baptized?”
“Yup. I’ll be a member of the Church. And when I’m confirmed, I’ll get the gift of the Holy Ghost.”
Bishop Simmons nodded. “The Holy Ghost will help you your whole life. And whenever you do something wrong, you can repent and the Holy Ghost can help you do better.”
Jacob smiled. “Mom says the Holy Ghost is the best gift I’ll get this year.”
Bishop Simmons and Jacob talked for a few more minutes about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and choosing the right.
“Jacob, I think you’re ready to be baptized,” Bishop Simmons said as he stood up and shook Jacob’s hand. “Congratulations.”
Jacob ran out of the office grinning. “Mom, I’m ready!”

Very early in my childhood, I became aware of the importance of prayer and the awesome power of the holy priesthood. During the fall of 1942, the United States was involved in a war. My father was trying to finish building our house. He couldn’t get a furnace because all building materials were needed for the war. As the weather became colder, my little sister, Patricia, and I became very ill. She had bronchitis, and I had double pneumonia. The doctor offered little hope that I would live through the night.
Speaking of that “awful night of nights,” my mother said she became desperate as she felt for my pulse and could find none. She said I looked like a little statue lying there on my bed. She fervently prayed to the Lord, promising if I should live, she would give me back to the Lord for His service. During the night, my father gave me a priesthood blessing. As he laid his hands upon my head, I opened my eyes, and from that time on, I began to feel better. I know that through the prayers of my parents and the power of the priesthood, my life was spared.

Bro. Tew: Years ago we moved to Oklahoma so that I could attend graduate school. While there, a wonderful Relief Society sister showed care for us. Like most student families, money was tight, but twice a year we would get into our car to drive 1000 miles to see our family in Utah. As we got our car loaded up to go on our trips, she would bring over an ice chest full of food to last the journey. She was a second mother to us as we lived far from our own parents. We still feel close to her because of the small and simple acts she did for our family.

The family eventually moved to Melbourne, where they connected with other members of the Church. It was a haven for them to be around like-minded people. Elizabeth was especially touched by the warm welcome they received from the sisters, who opened their homes for Sunday meetings and generously provided meals.

Although they were not organised as part of the official Relief Society organisation yet, the sisters worked together to cook, sew, and coordinate fundraising efforts for a new chapel. Elizabeth felt a companionship with these women that she had never known before.

Meanwhile, World War I broke out. To help connect women with each other during that challenging time, the Church published its Relief Society Magazine, which became an important resource for the sisters in Melbourne. They discussed its articles, poetry and stories as they gathered to knit socks and prepare parcels for soldiers in Europe and the Middle East.

Elizabeth’s two grandsons had enlisted to serve in the war. Her son Horace also enlisted and was sent to the Middle East as part of Australia’s Light Horse regiments.

Church attendance dwindled as more brethren were called to military duty. Soon, it was up to the women—Elizabeth and her friends—to keep their small branch together. The sisters looked forward to their weekly meetings for spiritual renewal and social and personal upliftment.

By the end of the war, almost every family in their area had lost a brother, a husband, a son or grandson. For Elizabeth, it was her grandson William Wallace Cameron Butler who died in the Battle of Fromelles. The bond amongst the sisters in the branch grew even stronger as they supported each other through the heartbreak. Then they began rebuilding their lives.

President Arnold Miller was called to lead the Victorian Conference—what we would now call a district. One of his first objectives was to support the official organisation of Australia’s Relief Society, under priesthood direction.

The first Relief Society meeting in Australia was held in Victoria on 15 July 1921. By 1923, Elizabeth was amongst the 22 sisters enrolled in the Melbourne Branch Relief Society. These were happy times where sisters could strengthen and feel strengthened.

In later life, Elizabeth hesitated to talk to her children about her childhood—her story was too sad to tell, she would say. Yet, the seed of faith that she allowed to be planted in her heart had grown beyond measure. In her wake, descendants for whom Elizabeth set the example, have been stalwarts in wards and stakes, faithfully building the Church wherever they live.

Through the lens of this humble lady’s life, we can look back at the beginnings of the Relief Society organisation in Australia and see through her legacy its true purpose: to prepare women for the blessings of eternal life, to strengthen individuals and families and to unite to help those in need.

Then there is the remembered Christmas tale by O. Henry about a young husband and wife who lived in abject poverty yet who wanted to give one another a special gift. But they had nothing to give. Then the husband had a ray of inspiration: he would provide his dear wife a beautiful ornamental comb to adorn her magnificent long hair. The wife also received an idea: she would obtain a lovely chain for her husband’s prized watch, which he valued so highly.

Christmas day came; the treasured gifts were exchanged. Then the surprise ending, so typical of O. Henry’s short stories: the wife had shorn her long hair and sold it to obtain funds to purchase the watch chain, only to discover that her husband had sold his watch so that he might purchase the comb to adorn her beautiful long hair, which now she did not have.

“Do you think I could ever be a mighty missionary like Ammon?” ten-year-old John asked his mom as she tucked him into bed. They had just finished family home evening, and John’s mind was spilling over with all Dad had said and read from the Book of Mormon about Ammon and his mission to the Lamanites.
“I’m sure that you’ll be an excellent missionary, John,” Mom said. “The Lord needs fine young men like you, and when you’re nineteen, He’ll call you to serve a mission somewhere in this big, wonderful world. And it will be exactly where He needs you the most.”
She kissed him goodnight, and John was alone with his thoughts. Just think—me, a missionary! Boy, that will be neat! I wonder where I’ll go. It could be anywhere! He began to think of all the places he’d heard about. His Primary teacher, Brother Phelps, was a returned missionary and loved to talk about different countries. He had even been teaching them greetings in different languages.
Maybe I’ll be like Brother Phelps and go to Mexico on my mission, John thought. I would be brave, like Ammon.
He began to imagine himself and a companion walking toward a ranch and saying to a vaquero (cowboy) on a tall horse, “Buenos días, señor (Good day, sir). You are a chosen people, and the Lord has many blessings for you. I have come to tell you about them.”
Or, John thought, I might cross the ocean and go to Hong Kong! A picture of him at a little street-side food stand, like one he’d seen in a book at school, filled his mind. He remembered his Cantonese greeting as he turned to talk to a Chinese man lunching there. “Nei hou ma (How are you)? May I come to your house tonight and tell your family how you can be together forever?”
Hmmm, John thought. That would be a nice place to go—but so would Germany!
In a flash, there he was, talking to a cute little German grandma who was scrubbing her cobblestone sidewalk. His teacher had said that the German people were clean and neat and that in some of the small towns, they still wash their sidewalks on their hands and knees.
“Guten Morgen, meine Frau (Good morning, ma’am),” he said to the woman. “I am a Mormon missionary, and I have come to brighten your life.” He imagined himself handing her a Book of Mormon. Remembering how Ammon had served the king, he saw himself scrubbing her sidewalk while she examined the book.
The more John thought about being a missionary, the more excited he became. Maybe I’ll even be sent to Russia! He had seen a lot about Russia on the TV lately. At last the Russian people were allowed to learn about Jesus. Just last week his teacher had taught him how to say hello in Russian.
He cleared his throat and, to imaginary people standing with him in the square in Moscow, said, “Zdrastvweetyeh (Hello). This pamphlet in my hand holds good news for all of you. There really is a God. Joseph Smith saw Him and His Son, Jesus Christ, with his own eyes.”
“Wow!” John said right out loud. He could just see himself bringing the truth to people who were really hungry for it. Then his mind flashed to a different part of the world, and he thought, I might even be sent to Africa, where they speak Zulu!
“Sawubona (Hello)!” he said to a group of men in an African village. Holding up the Book of Mormon, he said, “This book tells of a power greater than any on earth. It’s called the priesthood. You, too, may have this power if you learn and keep the commandments of the Lord.”
Then John remembered Ammon again and how he had brought the gospel to King Lamoni. That’s what I’ll do if the Lord sends me to England!
Suddenly there he was, armed with his scriptures, in front of the queen, bowing and saying, “Your Royal Highness, Jesus Christ, the King of the whole earth, will return again to rule and reign forever. We must be ready. This Book of Mormon will help you and your people prepare for His coming.”
John’s thoughts shifted to another great nation of people who must be waiting to hear his important message. Maybe he would be chosen to teach the American Indians!
In his mind, he saw a little Sioux boy carrying a load of firewood. “Hau, koda (Hello, friend),” he said to the boy. “May I help you with your load while you take me to your father and mother? I want to tell them about your great-great-great- grandparents.” In a moment, he was teaching this Indian family all about Samuel the Lamanite prophet.
As John thought about where else he might go, the idea came to him that he could be called to serve among his own people. Why, he might even be sent to the area where his Aunt Harriet lived! His mother had told him about “dear little Aunt Harriet,” and he had always wanted to meet her. She wasn’t a member of the Church. His mother had said that Aunt Harriet just hadn’t had the right opportunity to learn the truth yet. John thought, Maybe I’ll be the one to teach her. That would be terrific!
He could see himself sitting there in his missionary suit and tie, saying, “Aunt Harriet, I would love to be in the celestial kingdom with you. Let me tell you how we can make it happen.”
At that happy thought, John yawned and snuggled deeper into his covers. In only a minute he was sound asleep.
The next morning he was awakened by the bright sunlight shining through his window. He jumped out of bed and quickly dressed. A marvelous idea had come to him. I know exactly what I’ll do. Grabbing a pair of ice skates from a shelf, he ran out the door.
Good! There was Paul, a nonmember friend, just as John had hoped. “Hey, Paul,” he called, running to his side. “Thanks for letting me borrow your skates.” He took a deep breath and added, “Now there’s something I want to share with you. It’s not something to play with, and it’s really important. More important than anything I own. It’s my church. I want you to go to Primary with me. My teacher is really cool—you’ll like him. How about it? I’ll pick you up Sunday at ten o’clock, OK?” He stood there smiling and hoping.
Paul looked at him curiously and said, “I think so. I’ll ask my mom.”
The next Sunday Paul was sitting in Primary next to John, who was being more reverent than he’d ever been. Wow, he thought, it’s great to be a missionary!