Gospel Story Finder

“I shared this story with some of our new elders just last week when I was driving them in our van out to their first assignment. I turned to Elder Bobby Yazzie in the seat next to mine and asked, ‘Did you ever happen to meet Elder Descheenie?’ A smile came on his face, and his eyes filled with tears. ‘President,’ he said, ‘He is the one that found me, taught me, and baptized me. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be here today. I’m the only one in my entire family who is a member of the Church.’
“It’s hard to explain the thrill I felt when he told me this. Only a short two years before, Bobby had never heard of the Church, and here he was riding beside me: sharp, handsome, clear-eyed, and anxious to go forth and share his testimony among his people. Bobby had only been out for a short time when he had his first baptisms, his own grandfather and grandmother, and since then many more.”

For Fu Pak Wai, an idea blossomed into a business that answered a prayer.
Fu Pak Wai says, “We can’t see everything ahead of us. We just move forward step by step.”
For many years, Fu Pak Wai worked in computer animation in Hong Kong. He enjoyed the work, but it demanded a lot of time.
“When I returned home from work each evening,” he says, “my son was already in bed.”
As he thought about his family and future, Brother Fu attended one of the Church’s “Starting and Growing My Business” self-reliance groups. For 12 weeks, group members discussed how to start, grow, finance, and improve a business. They also talked about how to find and keep customers.
Armed with new knowledge, Brother Fu got an idea, which blossomed into a business that answered a prayer.
In his spare time, Brother Fu started selling bicycle accessories and second-hand bicycles online. Then he took online courses to learn how to repair bicycles. Finally, he found a small building to rent that would accommodate a bike shop.
“I still had my full-time job while I was selling bicycle accessories and fixing bikes part-time,” he says. “After doing that for a year, I quit my full-time job.”
Now Brother Fu has more time for his family.
“It was an answer to prayer,” he says. “And now I get to see my son in the morning before he goes to school and in the afternoon after school. It’s the best.”
Starting his own business has also given him more time to serve his community and God’s kingdom, doing missionary work and helping others become self-reliant.
“As I developed my business,” Brother Fu recalls, “I also developed a stronger testimony of keeping the Sabbath day holy and living the law of tithing. I don’t know how everything will work out. We can’t see everything ahead of us. We just move forward step by step, and God will prepare the way.”

Junjiro, Steve, and Cassidy know what it is like to be elders. They did, after all, just come home from missions. Now, at school, they were all set to throw themselves into their education when a new learning experience presented itself. They were called to serve as the elders quorum presidency in the BYU–Hawaii First Ward.
“I was excited about the calling because I felt like the Lord trusted me,” said elders quorum president Junjiro Makise, originally from Japan. “I knew He would not give me a calling that I could not handle. And I could do something to help all the members of the ward.”
Called to serve as counselors were Stephen Dangerfield from Moscow, Idaho, and Cassidy Matthew from the Marshall Islands. Alvin Singh is the secretary. The new presidency set out to learn how to be leaders. They followed the pattern they had learned in the Aaronic Priesthood and while on their missions—they turned to the scriptures and to the Lord in prayer.
“I had a good example in my life,” said Junjiro. “That was my father. He had been the bishop and the stake president when I was growing up. He said that in a leadership position, you have to be an example and participate in everything. It’s not just telling the members what to do but showing by example. You have to do all the things that you ask them to do. You have to be at the activity or at the service project. Then they will do the things you ask them to do more willingly because they know you are doing them as well.”
“My father always drove me to Church activities,” said Junjiro. “Sometimes I just wanted to stay home and play with my friends, but he was always there to take me. Because of my father, I developed the habit of participating in all Church activities. To me, he was what a leader should be.”
Junjiro follows his father’s advice. If he asks the members of the quorum to volunteer for service or to teach a lesson or come to an activity, he is there himself offering support. He said, “Before my calling, I didn’t know the members of my quorum very well. Now I worry about how I can help them to do their part.”
When Junjiro was called, he approached the Lord, as the bishop suggested, in deciding upon his counselors. Two names came up: Stephen Dangerfield and Cassidy Matthew. He felt the influence of the Spirit in asking to serve with these fine young men.
Steve had been serving as a district supervisor for home teaching. “I knew he was on top of things and would get things done,” said Junjiro. Cassidy was newly called as the membership clerk in the ward. But when Junjiro talked to the bishop about him, the bishop said if that’s what the Lord wants, then that’s how it will be. The presidency is united in their goal to serve the elders of their ward.
Steve said, “I think the biggest thing you learn in this sort of position is how significant each person is. It doesn’t need a huge effort on each person’s part, just doing home teaching or coming to activities. It’s fulfilling your responsibilities. You don’t need to go beyond what you’re asked to do. But just doing what you are assigned makes an amazing difference.”
The first challenge facing this presidency was just getting to know all the members of their quorum. Since they are all students, turnover is significant. People finish a semester or a school year and then return home or go on to school in other places.
At first, the quorum was combined from three wards for the summer semester. “Our quorum,” said Steve, “is a good bunch of guys. They all want to be friends.”
On Sundays, Steve often has to assign the quorum to service or welfare projects. He appreciates those who are willing to serve. “They are valiant—or they have flexible schedules,” said Steve, with a smile. The presidency strives to include everyone and leave no individual overlooked.
For Cassidy, it was a surprise when he was called to the presidency. “I got a call asking me to come for an interview with the bishop,” said Cassidy. “I knew something was going to happen, but I didn’t know what it was. I had served in the elders quorum presidency in my small branch back home in the Marshall Islands before my mission, and I learned a lot. But here, in such a large quorum, I have learned even more.
“The thing that has impressed me most was when we looked at all the names on the list and discussed what we were going to do to help each person. It meant a lot to me that we were talking about the needs of each person. It hit me that I was thinking more about others than I was about myself.”
Even in a student ward, this elders quorum presidency is young. But they all see it as a chance to grow. “There are a lot of people in the ward,” said Junjiro, “who know more than we do, and they know more about how to run activities. At first, we looked at our weaknesses. They are hard to get over, but then we gained confidence, and now we just need to keep going.”
And that’s just how this presidency is working. They are pushing ahead, getting to know everyone, trying to get them all involved, finding ways to help fulfill the needs of those in the ward. They are leading by example.

A true story from Palau.
Jewel sat on the bench in sacrament meeting with her parents and brother. She drew pictures of scripture stories. She tried listening to the speaker, but her stomach felt like it was full of nervous butterflies!
Today was Jewel’s first day going to Young Women class instead of Primary. She didn’t want to leave her friends in Primary behind. She loved singing and reading scriptures with them.
But Jewel was turning 12 this year. It was time to move into the Young Women program.
Jewel closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please help me to have a good Young Women class.
After the closing prayer in sacrament meeting, Jewel took a deep breath and walked to the classroom. The older girls were already there. There were four of them. They were talking and giggling.
“Hi,” Jewel said.
They smiled. “Hi.”
The teacher came in and welcomed Jewel. Then she started the lesson.
For most of the class, Jewel felt alone. She was nervous to talk because she didn’t know the other girls yet. She would have to be in Young Women for a long time. It felt like forever! Would she always feel lonely here?
Then a small voice came to her mind. You won’t be in Young Women forever. You were just old enough to move on and learn more about being a disciple of Jesus Christ.
Jewel felt comforted by the words. She recognized them as the Holy Ghost helping her. Even though she didn’t have many friends in Young Women yet, she wasn’t alone. She had the Holy Ghost.
After class was over, Jewel found her family.
“How was the Young Women class?” Mom asked.
Jewel gave her a hug. “It was OK. I miss Primary, and I don’t know the girls yet. But I felt the Holy Ghost comfort me.”
Mom smiled. “That’s good to hear! And maybe next time will be even better.”
Jewel nodded. She hoped Mom was right.
The next time she had Young Women class, Jewel said hi to the girls again.
“Hi, Jewel,” one of them said. “You should sit by me!”
Jewel smiled and sat by the girl. Her name was Ellie. They talked a lot before the lesson started. Ellie was kind and made her feel welcome.
During the lesson, the teacher asked if anyone had an experience with the Holy Ghost.
Jewel raised her hand. “I felt the Holy Ghost help me when I was nervous to join Young Women,” she said. “The Holy Ghost helps me when I grow and face challenges.”
Jewel was thinking about how the Holy Ghost comforted her when she felt alone. It felt good to share her experience with the girls in Young Women.
After she shared, a few other girls shared too. Jewel liked hearing what they had to say.
Jewel still missed Primary sometimes. But because of the Holy Ghost, she was ready to keep on growing.

One Saturday I was watching a movie at home when my dad said he was going to visit grandma at the hospice. I called to my dad, “Wait for me, I want to come!” So off we went. We went to Grandma Billie’s room, and she was in bed. She was tired. Dad and I talked with her. Every time she opened her eyes I would say, “Peek-a-boo!” and make her laugh softly. I felt as if her soul and my soul started to giggle to themselves. On the way home, I felt warm in my heart for what I did.
Tiara H., age 10, Arizona

Illustration by Allen Garns
During my interviews as a bishop one Sunday afternoon, I had the pleasure of sitting down with a good friend to talk about some challenges he was facing. After listening to his concerns for a few minutes, I felt that what he needed was consistency in reading the scriptures. I was also reminded that, as his bishop, I too should be more constant in my scripture study, which was something I had been struggling with. So I suggested that we become “accountability partners” in striving to study more consistently.
Every day after we finished reading our scriptures, we would text each other the word Done! Knowing that someone else was waiting to hear whether or not the other had completed his reading for the day was great motivation for the both of us. If one of us forgot, receiving a text was a reminder. If the other person did not text, he wasn’t called out on it. We let each other take this challenge on without making the other person feel guilty.
We started the challenge six months ago now, and I don’t recall a day that we have missed reading our scriptures. This brother stood up during fast and testimony meeting a couple of months ago and shared his testimony of the positive impact that daily scripture study was having on him and his family.
I am grateful for this brother and his friendship, as well as his daily texts. I have seen how technology, when used properly, can enhance our lives. I’m also thankful for the scriptures and how they testify of Christ. I know that the Savior’s atoning sacrifice makes it possible for each of us to return to live with Him someday.

To be honest about it, the seminary students in the Phoenix Park Ward of the Dublin Ireland Stake were a little worried. More than a little worried. Their stake president and their bishop had approached them about something new. Would they be the first seminary class in all of Ireland to try meeting every day—early every day?
Elaine O’Farrell, 15, put their fears into words. “I thought if we see each other every day, we’ll get on each other’s nerves.” And there was that other obvious worry. Pamela Fagan, 15, said, “No way would they get me out of bed that early.” And Farris Bukhatwa, 17, and Louise Byrne, 17, lived the farthest distance away. It was not going to be easy.
But not everyone was worried about the early-morning class. Jenna Gallagher, 15, was a little bit excited about the idea. Of course, her dad is the stake president. But it went beyond supporting dad. This was going to be her first year of seminary. She said, “I used to hear about early-morning seminary in America. I always dreamed of going to seminary that way. I was really pleased when we were told we were going to do it. I knew if I made a sacrifice, the Lord would bless me.”
Then it happened. Things started to work out. Farris got the car in the mornings and could pick up Louise. Pamela even agreed to getting up extra early to be ready to leave on time with her brother Derek. Elaine changed her mind and said that she liked seeing these people every morning. Jenna was happy just to be in seminary. Brett, 18, and Brandt Crowther, 16, the mission president’s sons, were thrilled to be with other Church members their same ages every day. And best of all, their teacher, Rosemary Richmond, was terrific.
On the last day of early-morning seminary for the year, they were able to look back and see some remarkable things that had happened in their lives during the past year.
At school in Ireland, all students are required to take religion class. Even though they go to early-morning seminary, these Latter-day Saint students are not excused from their school religion requirement. But their study of the scriptures has paid off. Louise said, “We have Franciscan friars that visited our school. When they were asking questions, they would point to me and put their fingers to their lips as if to say, ‘Shhh, don’t answer the question.’ They know I can answer it.”
Elaine has the same story. “I always get A’s in religion class. If my teacher asked what a word means, like covenant, I would answer. He knew I would know the answer no matter what he asked.”
Derek Fagan, 17, has excelled both in school and in seminary, and he credits an experience he had just before he received his patriarchal blessing. “We had been talking about patriarchal blessings in seminary. I prayed and asked if I should get my patriarchal blessing. Our stake did not have a patriarch at that time, but three days later, our new patriarch was called. I felt it was my answer. That was the time I decided for myself that the Church was true and I would try harder to do well and choose the right. My patriarchal blessing was amazing. I carry it around with me everywhere. Since early-morning seminary started, everything has been clearer. Even in school, I just learn very quickly now. It’s unusual to do ordinary level subjects for exams and then move up and take the exam at a higher level. The teachers were rather amazed when I moved from ordinary level to higher.”
Derek has also become the first seminary student in Ireland to learn all the scripture mastery scriptures. As an extra challenge, he memorized the First Vision as found in Joseph Smith—History.
Brett and Brandt Crowther were giving up high school in the United States to come to Ireland with their parents while their father served as a mission president. Brett would miss only his senior year, but Brandt would miss three years of high school. Then, by the time his dad’s mission was over, Brandt would be old enough to serve his own mission full-time. “Some of my friends did tease me about going on a five-year mission.”
Brandt remembers the time right before early-morning seminary started just a few months after he arrived in Ireland. “I prayed almost every night of my life, but one night about eight months ago, I prayed with sincerity and asked the Lord what He wanted me to do here. I needed to know in my heart that the Church was true. And I found out that God does live and He loves me. I gained an understanding of what He wanted me to do. And since then, I’ve been happy being here. I’ve loved it. I’m closer to the Savior now.”
Brandt explains some of the things the Lord told him he needed to do. “I needed to read the scriptures every day and to pray every night and keep the commandments. And be enthusiastic. I needed to get in gear. That night the Spirit was with me. I didn’t want to go to bed. I stayed up feeling that feeling. The best way I can explain it was like I wasn’t alone and I knew it.”
Seminary class often helped give direct answers to Farris. “I received a testimony of prayer and of tithing. I was just praying about things that I really needed to find out about. It would click in seminary. I would understand things better. It is so much better when you get an answer. The Spirit tells you it is true. What is that like? It’s calm, and you understand things. You’re not nervous. You know it’s true. You feel it in your heart.”
One unique thing about this seminary class has been how much the students enjoy being together. It seems every weekday morning isn’t enough. They now get together every Saturday night, too.
It all started when Louise’s mother told Brett that Louise’s friends always ask her to go to the pub with them on Saturdays, but she never goes. Brett said, “We can get a group of people and go out and have some fun. We decided to take the whole class, make it a seminary thing. After that, every Saturday night, we’ve been doing it. It’s good fun.”
What do they do? The first week they went to the cinema, but that quickly became too expensive. So they started going to each other’s houses to play games (the Crowthers taught them to play capture-the-flag) or watch videos or just talk and talk and talk. Elaine explains, “We used to have nothing to talk about; now we don’t have enough time to talk. It’s very fun. When I was in Primary, I never used to mix. I’d stay to myself. When I was in school, I never talked to anybody. But my confidence has grown to talk to people more since I started hanging around with the group.”
For Louise, having something else to do on Saturdays has helped her be comfortable in her decision to stay strong in the Church. “It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason for me not to go with my friends from work because they go out every weekend. Sometimes, I used to go along. I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t, but it was just being there. It just didn’t feel good. It wears out your spirit eventually. I got so tired of trying to speak up for myself. When I go with the seminary class, I can just be me. And that’s accepted.”
And most of all, “Saturday nights are fun,” says Pamela. “Usually my friends go out on Saturday night. Their standards are completely different from mine. I prefer and feel much better going to the seminary activity. We have great fun.”
Derek adds, “Early-morning seminary has brought us closer, and we’re better friends. Definitely. Saturday evenings we have activities. It’s not planned by any adults. It’s all arranged by us. I’ve gotten a lot closer to everyone in the class, even Pamela, my sister. Most nights the kids at school would go out and get drunk and break the Word of Wisdom. I wouldn’t even consider that as a choice.”
Most of all, this year of seminary has taught them the meaning of faith. Standing before the class each morning is their teacher, Rosemary Richmond, prepared to help them learn from Church history about the faith of the early prophets and members. Her husband, Brendan, suffers from an extremely rare and damaging lung disorder and is confined to a wheelchair. She has the constant worry about her husband’s care and health, yet she is willing and eager to prepare lessons and have the early-morning seminary class come each day.
Louise said, “Members here are very faithful, especially Rosemary, with all the trials she’s been through. It makes you realize how lucky you are. While in seminary, we read about the Prophet Joseph Smith and the pioneers. Joseph Smith did a marvelous thing. He’s a great man. I love him. The testimony that he had never faltered. Can you imagine living back in those days? Some people say these are the hardest days, but I think then it was so much harder. Now if we were called to Zion, we’d just catch a plane. The pioneers had to walk halfway across America just to practice what they believe. I want that sort of faith because I love the Church.”
Louise is developing that kind of faith. Every day she stands up for her beliefs. But with her small group of valiant seminary friends, she doesn’t have to stand alone. None of them do. They have found a way to strengthen each other. And that has made all the difference.

This story happened in the Netherlands.
Marie opened her jewelry box to look at her pretty stones. One by one, she held them in her hand. The red one, then the green one, then the clear white one.
Grandmother knocked on the bedroom door. “Ready to go?”
“Yes!” Marie carefully put the stones back in her box.
Grandmother was taking Marie to the library. But not just to look at books. There was a special stone display there! Marie was excited.
When their bus got to the library, Marie and Grandmother walked inside. They saw tables and tables of beautiful stones. Some were shiny and smooth. Others were interesting shapes.
“Look at this one!” Grandmother pointed to a large crystal. It had little blue spikes sticking out all over it.
Another table had lots of tiny, round stones. Marie looked at all the colors. At the very end was a purple stone, small and shiny and smooth.
I don’t have a purple stone yet, Marie thought. It would be perfect for her collection.
Marie glanced around. Grandmother was at another table. No one else was nearby. And no one would miss this tiny stone, right?
Marie picked up the stone and put it in her pocket.
That night, with the purple stone safely in her jewelry box, Marie got into bed.
“Ready for story time?” Dad sat on the bed and opened the Friend magazine.
Marie snuggled into her blankets and listened. The story was about a boy who repented after he made a wrong choice.
As Dad read, Marie felt like her stomach was twisting into knots. She rolled onto her side, then flipped over her pillow. But she did not feel right. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the purple stone.
Dad finished the story. “Are you OK?”
Marie didn’t know what to do. If she told Dad, he might get mad.
But maybe he would know how to help.
Slowly, Marie crawled out of bed and took the purple stone out of her box. “I took this from the library today.” Tears spilled out of Marie’s eyes. “I’m really sorry.”
Dad gave her a hug. “It’s always OK to tell me the truth. I’m proud of you for having the courage to be honest.”
Marie’s stomach began to feel better. Dad wasn’t mad!
“And because of Jesus, we can repent. Just like in the story,” he said. “Why don’t we take the stone back to the library?”
Marie squeezed her eyes shut. “No! They’ll be angry.”
Dad put a hand on her shoulder. “They might be a little angry. But I think they’ll be glad that you gave it back. And it will make you feel a lot better too.”
Marie took a deep breath and nodded. “OK.”
Marie got out a piece of paper and started to write a letter. “I’m sorry for taking this,” she wrote. “I wish I hadn’t done it. I want to make it right.”
She slid the letter into an envelope. Then she put the tiny purple stone inside too.
“We’ll take this back tomorrow,” Dad said. “How do you feel now?”
“Better,” said Marie. “There’s just one more thing I need to do.”
Marie knelt by her bed and prayed. “I’m sorry I took the stone,” she said. “I’ll never steal again. Thank Thee for helping me be brave and honest.”
As she got back in bed, Marie felt peace. Tomorrow she would make things right. And she knew Heavenly Father and Jesus would help her. Because of Them, everything would be OK.
Illustrations by Katie Rewse

Sister Babata Sonnenberg was discouraged. As a young mother of five girls age eight and younger, she was surprised to be called to teach the 16- to 17-year-old Sunday School class in her ward. Months into her calling, she found class attendance sporadic and usually sparse. One Sunday a single boy showed up for class. Rather than teach just one student, she combined her class with another. She was ready to give up. But as she pondered and prayed about her bleak situation, inspiration came, and she had a change of heart.
Her husband, Ken, was the ward mission leader. The two of them felt prompted to combine their efforts to reach out to the youth of the ward. She would make chocolate cake, and he would invite the young people in the ward to come to their home each Sunday evening to eat the cake and discuss mission preparation. While the teens ate her cake, Sister Sonnenberg would invite them to her Sunday School class.
As a result of this “sweet” invitation, attendance climbed in the Sunday School class. But one young man, Nate, was not swayed by persistent invitations. Sister Sonnenberg felt she was losing one of her sheep. Her response to that feeling was to “go after that which [was] lost, until [she found] it” (Luke 15:4).” So rather than give up on Nate, Sister Sonnenberg came up with a plan.
One Sunday evening she went to Nate’s house. She found him home with another member of her class, who also hadn’t attended that day. She told both of them she had missed them in class and proceeded to teach them the lesson right then and there. Nate’s father, who had been recently released as bishop of the ward, was touched by this teacher’s persistence. He sent a text message to her husband that read: “Ken, please tell your wife thank you for me. Coming here and teaching Nate and McKay was inspired.”
Nevertheless, the next Sunday Nate again chose not to attend Sunday School. So Sister Sonnenberg went again to his home to have a gospel discussion with him. Nate figured that might happen, and he had gone to a friend’s house to hide. Sister Sonnenberg discovered him a few doors down from his home and shared the lesson there.
Finally, Nate decided to return to his Sunday School class.
Why did Nate come back?
Was it the chocolate cake Sister Sonnenberg served in her home?
Was it the visits she made to Nate’s home (and the neighbor’s home) to find him?
Was it encouragement from friends and family to attend church?
Or was it the love he felt from Sister Sonnenberg, his Sunday School teacher?
The answer is probably all of the above. For all these reasons and more, Nate began to attend Sunday School consistently, along with his friends.
So let me add the rest of the story. Because of how Nate came to feel about his Sunday School teacher, he didn’t pass up the opportunity to buy her chocolates when he later saw her at the mall. Sister Sonnenberg, who had shown him so much love, became a recipient of his love.
Soon thereafter, in September 2015, Nate completed his mission application and is now serving in the Mississippi Jackson Mission.
Other class members who struggled to attend Sunday School also decided to serve missions. Five young men and three young women who attended Sister Sonnenberg’s 16- to 17-year-old Sunday School class during her time as the teacher have served, or are serving, missions, and several others may yet serve.

Thanks for coming shopping with me. Now how about getting ice cream?
YES!
Hmm. It looks like the cashier didn’t charge us for all the boards we bought.
You’re right. Didn’t we get six boards, not five?
We need to head back to the store.
Why do we have to go back? It’s just a few dollars. Besides, we didn’t make the mistake.
Well, it’s important to make things right when we can. It might matter a lot to someone else.
Plus, being honest matters to Heavenly Father.
Thanks for coming back! I would have had to pay that money myself.
Huh. I guess being honest did matter.
We’re glad we could make things right!
See Primary manual, page 142.

But it saddened Margarette that the Prophet and his wife, Emma, had lost so many children of their own. Their young child had died shortly after Margarette’s mother had given birth to twin baby girls not long ago. The Prophet and his wife were so kind to children, Margarette was sure they missed their own sweet baby.
One day, Margarette heard the Prophet talking to her mother in the kitchen. He asked if she would let him borrow one of the twin girls to help comfort Emma.
“You may take one home with you, as long as you bring her back each night,” Margarette’s mother said. She handed him little Mary. Margarette watched as he gently wrapped a quilt around the baby and, cooing to her, opened the door and left.
True to his word, the Prophet returned little Mary every night, except for one. Margarette’s mother was nervous when he didn’t come at his usual time. She decided to go check on the babe, and hurried away to the Prophet’s home, the Mansion House. Soon afterward, Mother and the Prophet returned with little Mary. Margarette heard him explaining again that Mary had been cranky. He had been trying to calm her down before he returned her.
The next morning, the Prophet arrived as usual. Margarette’s mother handed him Sarah instead of Mary, thinking he would not know which baby he was holding. Sarah and Mary were identical—even some family members couldn’t tell them apart. After gently cuddling the child, the Prophet looked down at her face and then slowly shook his head. “This is not my little Mary,” he said.
Margarette’s mother nodded and took Sarah back to the cradle.
After the Prophet left with Mary, Margarette said, “He must really study Mary’s face in order to tell the difference between her and little Sarah.” As Margarette left the kitchen, she noticed her mother blotting her eyes with the hem of her apron.
Soon afterwards, the Prophet stopped taking Mary to his home, but he often came to visit her. Sadly, a short time later, Mary was called to return home to her Heavenly Father. Just after Mary died, Margarette was sitting at the kitchen table when the Prophet arrived. Little Mary’s body lay quiet and still in her cradle. The Prophet rushed to pick her cold form up in his arms. He cried as if he had lost one of his own little children. Again and again he whispered, “Mary, oh my dear little Mary!”
Margarette went to where her mother stood sobbing and softly said, “See how much he loved her, Mother—just as he loves all children. It is right that he is often called ‘the loving friend of children.’”

Faneva looked out the window at the busy street outside his house. He could see people pulling carts of vegetables, rice, cloth, and other goods to sell. He could hear car horns honking and dogs barking. Then he heard another sound.
“Mama, someone is knocking!” Faneva called out. Mama opened the door. Two young men wearing white shirts were on the doorstep. Faneva had never seen anyone dressed like that in his neighborhood in Madagascar before.
“We are missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” one of them said. “We teach people about Jesus. Can we share a message with you?”
Faneva was excited when Mama invited them inside. The whole family gathered to hear about Jesus Christ and how His Church was on earth again.
After that day, the missionaries visited Faneva’s family many times. They brought a book called Book of Mormon Stories. Faneva loved reading it with his family!
Someday I will be a missionary and share the Book of Mormon with others, Faneva said to himself.
Another time when the missionaries came, they taught Faneva’s family how to pray. Faneva learned that he could talk to Heavenly Father anytime, anywhere.
Someday I will be a missionary and teach people about prayer, Faneva thought.
One day the missionaries had an important question.
“Will you follow the example of Jesus Christ and be baptized?” one of them asked.
Faneva felt happy in his heart. “Yes!” he said.
“Yes!” his brother and Mama said.
Papa said that he wasn’t ready to be baptized yet. But he was OK if the rest of the family was baptized. And so they were! Faneva was baptized by one of the missionaries who had taught him about Jesus.
Someday I will be a missionary and help people get baptized, Faneva thought.
One of the best parts of being a member of the Church was going to Primary. Faneva loved the activities and meeting new friends. But his favorite thing of all was singing Primary songs. One Sunday in Primary, they were singing songs about sharing the gospel.
“I want to be a missionary now,” Faneva sang. “I don’t want to wait until I’m grown.”
I can start doing missionary work now, Faneva realized. I don’t have to wait until someday!
From then on, Faneva looked for ways he could share the gospel. He tried to be a good example. He invited people to church. He helped his neighbors. After a few years, he was old enough to go with the missionaries to teach people in his city. In a few more years, he served a mission himself—meeting new people and sharing the gospel, just as the missionaries had shared with him.

One evening on board ship, while sailing from Yokohama, Japan, to Seattle, Washington, after the end of World War II, I began talking to the officer in the bunk next to me about the Book of Mormon. He was not a member of the Church, but he lived in the Worland, Wyoming, area, and so he knew quite a bit about the Mormons. We had a lengthy but interesting discussion.
The next morning the officer in the bunk above me, who had listened the night before but hadn’t joined in the discussion, came to me and said, “Where can I get a copy of that Book of Mormon you were talking about last night?”
I said, “Give me your address, and I’ll send you a copy just as soon as I return to Salt Lake City.”
I sent it along with a few tracts and had his name referred to the missionaries, that he might be contacted.

Nathalie was eight years old when the missionaries came, and she searched to find out for herself if the Church was true. “I was nine years old when I knew it was true. My relatives said, ‘The girls are joining because their parents joined.’ But I said ‘No, I know that it’s true.’ It was my decision to join. I always tell young people that you have to have your own testimony, not the testimony of your friends or family.”

In 2018, at the University of Utah, a special professorship was created called the “Dr. Russell M. Nelson and Dantzel W. Nelson Presidential Chair in Cardiothoracic Surgery”—cardio, meaning “heart,” and thoracic, meaning “chest.” It honored President Nelson’s important work as a heart surgeon and the support he received from his late wife, Dantzel. This professorship was paid for by a fund designed to last into the future. The individual selected for this type of prestigious professorship receives recognition, salary support, and research funds.
The first surgeon chosen to hold the professorship was Dr. Craig H. Selzman, a skilled heart surgeon who is not a member of our church. At the ceremony to award this professorship to Dr. Selzman, many important guests were in attendance, including President Nelson and his wife Sister Wendy W. Nelson. During the meeting, President Nelson spoke modestly of his pioneering surgical career.
Then Dr. Selzman shared what it meant to him to be appointed to this professorship. He related that four days earlier, after a long day in the operating room, he discovered that one of his patients needed to go back to surgery. He was tired and disappointed, knowing he would have to spend another night in the hospital.
This evening, Dr. Selzman had a life-changing conversation with himself. In the moment, he thought: “On Friday, I will be appointed to a professorship named after Dr. Nelson. He was always known as someone who kept his emotions in check, treated everyone with respect, and never lost his temper. Now that my name will be linked with his, I need to try to be more like him.” Dr. Selzman was already a very considerate surgeon. But he wanted to become even better.
In the past, his surgical team might have been aware of his fatigue and frustration because he may have let it show in his manner and tone of voice. But in the operating room that night, Dr. Selzman made a conscientious effort to be especially supportive and understanding of his team. He felt it made a difference and resolved to continue trying to be more like Dr. Nelson.
Five years later, President Nelson donated his professional papers to the University of Utah. Dignitaries from the university came to formally thank President Nelson. During this event, Dr. Selzman spoke again. Referring to President Nelson’s initials, RMN, he said, “There is an ‘RMN’ ethos that now pervades the Division of Cardiothoracic Surgery at the University of Utah.”
In frustrating situations, Dr. Selzman explained: “I do what we now teach our trainees to do—focus, get over it, and do the best you can. This ethos lives in us every day. We give lapel pins to every member of the division and each new trainee. At the bottom of the pin are the letters ‘RMN.’ The RMN ethos is foundational to our training; we teach it to everyone.” Dr. Selzman had intentionally improved his prior attitude and aspirations because his name was now linked to that of President Nelson.
This series of events involving Dr. Selzman caused me to ask myself: “How have I changed since I linked my name with the name of Jesus Christ? Have I adopted a Christlike ethos as a result? Have I genuinely tried to become better and more like Him?”
The first parallel is identification. Dr. Selzman’s appointment to the Nelson professorship linked his name to President Nelson’s, and Dr. Selzman began to identify with President Nelson. When we take upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ, we link our name with His. We identify with Him. We gladly become known as Christian. We acknowledge the Savior and unapologetically stand up to be counted as His.
Closely related to identification is another parallel—remembrance. When Dr. Selzman goes into his office, his eyes are drawn to the medallion he received when he was appointed to the Nelson professorship. This medallion reminds him daily of the RMN ethos. For us, partaking of the sacrament each week helps us remember Jesus Christ throughout the week. As we partake of the sacrament, we do so in remembrance of the price He paid to redeem us. We covenant anew to remember Him, recognize His greatness, and appreciate His goodness. We acknowledge repeatedly that it is only in and through His grace that we are saved from physical and spiritual death.
An outgrowth of remembering what the Savior has done for us is a third parallel—emulation. Dr. Selzman began to emulate President Nelson and the RMN ethos. I believe that President Nelson’s ethos is simply a manifestation of his lifelong discipleship of Jesus Christ. For us, the more we identify with and remember Jesus Christ, the more we want to be like Him. As His disciples, we change for the better when we focus on Him, more so than when we focus on ourselves. We strive to become like Him and seek to be blessed with His attributes. We pray fervently to be filled with charity, the pure love of Christ.
Emulating Jesus Christ leads us to a fourth parallel—alignment with His purposes. We join Him in His work. As a surgeon, Dr. Nelson was known as a teacher, a healer, and a researcher. The lapel pin used in Dr. Selzman’s division emphasizes these endeavors, featuring the words teach, heal, and discover. For us, part of taking upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ involves willingly, intentionally, and enthusiastically aligning our goals with His. We join Him in His work when we “love, share, and invite.” We join Him in His work when we minister to others, especially the vulnerable and those who have been wounded, shattered, or crushed by their earthly experiences.
So we more fully take upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ through identification, remembrance, emulation, and alignment. Doing these four leads us to a fifth parallel—empowerment. We access God’s power and blessings in our lives. The Nelson professorship provides Dr. Selzman recognition and support funds that he is using to change the culture in his division. He applies this “endowment of power” to help others. In a similar way, when we take upon ourselves the name of the Savior, our Heavenly Father blesses us with His power to help us fulfill our mission in mortality.

Few newlyweds honeymoon by camping out in the cold for two winter months. But the 18-year-old bride, Emily Abbott, and her new husband, Edward Bunker, had little choice. Right after John Taylor, then an Apostle, sealed them together as man and wife in Nauvoo, they fled west with hundreds of other Saints over frozen Mississippi River ice late in February 1846. As refugees, they camped in mud and snow day after day on their slow journey across Iowa.
At Garden Grove, Iowa, Edward managed to build a crude one-room log cabin. But its lack of windows or doors and its dirt floor certainly provided his new bride with much less than she was accustomed to. Emily, he well knew, had grown up with nice things. Her childhood home in Dansville, New York, was a prosperous home thanks to her father’s good income from a woolen mill he owned. Her parents sent her to a fine grammar school in the area.
When Emily was about ten, the family moved west to develop a 40-acre stretch of Illinois land. There they converted to Mormonism and soon moved to Nauvoo. Then in 1843 Emily’s father died, and to help provide for her mother and the five other children, teenage Emily found work in nearby homes. Hour after painstaking hour her tailoring work turned her into a fine seamstress. It was while tailoring that she met and then married Edward.
Life was not easy in their Garden Grove cabin community, so Edward ranged many miles distant to find odd jobs. He managed to bring home a little corn one time, some bacon another time. When he heard that the United States army wanted volunteers for the Mormon Battalion, he enlisted, hoping his army salary would pay for Emily’s trip west.
Off her new husband went, leaving Emily and her mother’s family to care for themselves until he returned. Within the year, by January 1847, poverty would teach the young wife a lasting lesson about pride.
Emily, an expert with needle and cloth, sometimes felt superior to those not dressed as well as she. One day she saw a young baby dressed in some glazed curtain material—bright shawl-type flower figures on a deep blue background. Curtain materials for a baby dress! She severely criticized the mother for not being able to provide better and vowed out loud: “I would not clothe my child in a dress like that, even if I could have it for nothing.”
But that January, when Emily gave birth to her own first baby, she had nothing to clothe him in. No one in the camp had anything she could buy to sew into baby clothes. No one, that is, except the poor mother she had criticized. The mother kindly said to her: “I have yet a few yards of the same material from which I made my baby’s dress. You are welcome to it.” Emily, swallowing her pride, accepted the curtain material and offered to pay for it. “No, I don’t want you to pay me for it,” the giver said. “I hope you need it so much that you’ll not shed tears over it and blame the Lord because you have no better.”
Emily did not complain about the curtain-cloth dress she made for her son. For a long time it was the only clothing the baby boy had.
When husband Edward returned from battalion duty after an 18-month absence, he got acquainted for the first time with his 11-month-old son. (But records do not tell us what the baby boy wore to meet his soldier-father.)
Years later, as the mother of 11 children, Emily often told the story of the curtain dress to her children to help them accept situations when money and earthly goods were lacking.

Perhaps no one in my reading has portrayed this teaching of the Master quite so memorably or so beautifully as Henry Van Dyke in his never-to-be-forgotten “The Mansion.” In this classic is featured John Weightman, a man of means, a dispenser of political power, a successful citizen. His philosophy toward giving can be gained from his own statement: “Of course you have to be careful how you give, in order to secure the best results—no indiscriminate giving—no pennies in beggars’ hats! Try to put your gifts where they can be identified and do good all around” (See “The Mansion,” in Unknown Quantity: A Book of Romance and Some Half-told Tales, New York: Scribner’s 1918, pages 337, 339).
One evening John Weightman sat in his comfortable chair at his library table and perused the papers before him spread. There were descriptions and pictures of the Weightman wing of the hospital and the Weightman Chair of Political Jurisprudence, as well as an account of the opening of the Weightman Grammar School. John Weightman felt satisfied.
He picked up the family Bible, which lay on the table, turned to a passage, and read to himself the words: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
“But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matt. 6:19–20).
The book seemed to float away from him. He leaned forward upon the table, his head resting on his folded hands. He fell into a deep sleep.
In his dream, John Weightman was transported to the Heavenly City. A guide met him and others whom he had known in life and advised that he would conduct them to their heavenly homes.
The group paused before a beautiful mansion and heard the guide say, “This is the home for you, Dr. McLean. Go in: there is no more sickness here, no more death, nor sorrow, nor pain; for your old enemies are all conquered. But all the good that you have done for others, all the help that you have given, all the comfort that you have brought, all the strength and love that you bestowed upon the suffering, are here; for we have built them all into this mansion for you” (“The Mansion,” pages 361–362).
A devoted husband of an invalid wife was shown a lovely mansion, as were a mother, early widowed, who had reared an outstanding family, and a paralyzed young woman who had lain for thirty years upon her bed—helpless but not hopeless—succeeding by a miracle of courage in her single aim: never to complain, but always to impart a bit of her joy and peace to everyone who came near her.
By this time, John Weightman was impatient to see what mansion awaited him. As he and the Keeper of the Gate walked on, the homes became smaller—then smaller. At last they stood in the middle of a dreary field and beheld a hut hardly big enough for a shepherd’s shelter. The guide said, “This is your mansion, John Weightman.”
In desperation, John Weightman argued, “Have you not heard that I have built a schoolhouse; a wing of a hospital; … three … churches?”
“Wait,” the guided cautioned. “… They were not ill done. But they were all marked and used as foundations for the name and mansion of John Weightman in the world. … Verily, you have had your reward for them. Would you be paid twice?”
A sadder but wiser John Weightman spoke more slowly: “What is it that counts here?”
Came the reply, “Only that which is truly given. Only that good which is done for the love of doing it. Only those plans in which the welfare of others is the master thought. Only those labors in which the sacrifice is greater than the reward. Only those gifts in which the giver forgets himself” (“The Mansion,” pages 364–368).
John Weightman was awakened by the sound of the clock chiming the hour of seven. He had slept the night through. As it turned out, he yet had a life to live, love to share, and gifts to give.

Embarking on my education with BYU-Pathway Worldwide presented daunting challenges—power outages and unreliable internet connectivity which threatened to derail my academic pursuits, threatening my ability to complete the one-year PathwayConnect program. Despite my fears, I persevered, relying on prayer and faith. Miraculously, I witnessed divine intervention, which bolstered my confidence as an online student. A job opportunity, facilitated by a friend, provided the means to provide backup electricity and secure reliable Wi-Fi. It felt like a miracle! With these basic necessities restored, I felt a renewed sense of hope and determination to pursue my educational goals. However, my journey was far from smooth sailing.
Upon graduation from PathwayConnect, acceptance into BYU-Idaho’s online bachelor’s program brought renewed concerns. The unexpected loss of my job caused some financial hardship, which left me with no means to afford tuition and essential course materials. Depleted savings increased my worries, yet I knew that quitting school was not an option. As President Dieter. F. Uchtdorf once said, “For members of the Church, education is not merely a good idea—it’s a commandment”.
Amidst fervent prayers and contemplation, I saw a post on LinkedIn by Matt Richards, who works at BYU-Pathway. He talked about the Hall Foundation Scholarship. It was like an answer to my prayers! This scholarship helped me pay for school and books, so I could keep studying. Its promise of financial support was a lifeline in my time of need. Securing the scholarship eased the burden of tuition and expenses, allowing me to focus on my academic pursuits. Even when things seemed tough, I learned to trust that help would come when I needed it most. With faith and help from above, I’m about to graduate. It’s been a journey full of ups and downs, but I know I’m not alone. There are miracles all around us, if we just keep believing.

I am confident you have heard this story of President Spencer W. Kimball, but I take the liberty of repeating it. He had undergone surgery in the hospital. A young male nurse had placed him on a gurney and was transporting him. When getting on the elevator, the nurse bumped the gurney and let out an oath using the name of the Lord.

President Kimball, only half-conscious, said, “Please! Please! That is my Lord whose name you revile.”

There was a deathly silence; then the young man whispered with a subdued voice, “I am sorry.” (See The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [1982], 198.)

I especially loved the peaceful feeling when I stepped inside the Sacred Grove. It is truly a place where God and Jesus Christ have been. The peace there is much like the peace that a temple or Church building brings. It is truly the Spirit.
In the Sacred Grove we split into small groups and went off with our leaders. They taught us about the First Vision, and we each found a quiet spot to pray. I felt a real peace when I prayed. I felt reconfirmation that the Church is true.