Gospel Story Finder

When the news of Bruce’s death reached his hometown of Ukiah, California, it struck a nerve in the community. Bruce was well known and loved. Grace Jones, whose Church assignment is to work with the media in Ukiah, received many of the questions about what had happened. She decided to let people really know what Bruce was doing in Bolivia—preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ.
“We had so many inquiries from newspapers and radio stations about Bruce, that we decided it would be a good idea to let others know what he had been teaching,” said Sister Jones. “Why not give out copies of the Book of Mormon in his memory during the remaining 18 months he would have been serving as a missionary? I discussed the idea with the stake presidency, and they approved it. And Bruce’s family accepted the idea wholeheartedly.”
Many wards in the Ukiah Stake asked if they could participate in the Book of Mormon project. Posters were made and put in the foyers of participating wards. When a referral card was filled out and returned to the stake or full-time missionaries, the name of the requesting person was embossed in gold on the hardback cover of a Book of Mormon for that person, with Bruce’s testimony and photo included. Over 500 copies of Bruce’s testimony were printed the first time, and more were later printed.
“It was overwhelming! We were printing names on books like you couldn’t believe!” said Bruce Bates, Ukiah stake mission president. The books were either given to the recipient by the person making the referral or by the missionaries.

Amy made the choices every parent desires for a son or daughter. She was sealed in the temple after receiving a strong spiritual impression to marry her husband.
Prior to their wedding, her husband-to-be made a courageous choice as well, admitting to her that he had used pornography.
A short year later, Amy realized that his struggle with pornography was not in the past. Three years into their marriage—when they had an eight-month-old baby—Amy suffered the unimaginable pain of her husband’s having an affair and being subsequently excommunicated from the Church.
How did Amy survive the heartbreak? How do the many other women and men with similar circumstances survive their pain?
When Amy faced her husband’s excommunication, she knew that the Savior could provide the answer to the crushing weight she felt. However, she says, she wasn’t sure how “to bridge that gulf between where I was and the healing power of Jesus Christ.” How, she wondered, could she possibly find—or build—a bridge?
At first she tried to lessen her pain by vigilantly watching her husband and pleading with the Lord to heal him. But one day a spiritual prompting changed everything: Amy realized that controlling someone else’s behavior isn’t part of Heavenly Father’s plan and wasn’t helping her come closer to the Savior. So, she says, the biggest thing she had to do was begin her own journey of healing—and turn her husband’s journey over to him. She came to understand, through inspiration from the Spirit, that she needed to stop living her life as a reaction to pornography and trust in the enabling power of Jesus Christ and His Atonement to strengthen and bless her.
As she looks back, Amy says that at no point did any of her searching or investigating of her husband produce a feeling of peace. Life “was continual turmoil,” she says. “And the only peace I found was when I recognized that Heavenly Father had a plan” for her husband and for her. When she used her own agency to turn to God and seek His help, “the help came” and the gulf between her pain and the Savior’s help didn’t feel quite so wide or the pain so weighty.
Amy and her husband are still married—although he continues to relapse. Amy, however, testifies that peace comes when she watches general conference thinking, “How can I heal my pain?” not, “I hope my husband hears this.” She knows that Jesus Christ’s healing power and her faith in the infinite nature of the Atonement provide hope—not only for her husband but also for her.

Illustrations by Elise Black
Mara loved making people smile. She made her schoolteacher smile when she raised her hand to ask questions. She made her sister, Marcella, smile when she said nice things to her.
Then Mara would smile too. It felt good to help other people be happy.
But there was one time each week when Mara hardly ever smiled. That time was early Sunday morning. That’s when Mara and Marcella were always the most tired. Rushing around to get ready for church made them extra grumpy. Then there was the long walk to church. It was more than a mile away! Mara and Marcella often got there late. They would miss the first part of Primary.
“We miss you when you’re not here on time,” Sister Lima said one day. She was the Primary president of their ward in Brazil.
Mara knew she should get to church on time. But how? Then Mara got an idea. The next Saturday night, Mara decided to try something new.
Instead of sneaking bedtime snacks after dinner, Mara brushed her teeth. Most days Mama had to remind the girls to turn off the TV and go to bed. Even then they would play and whisper under their covers until late at night. Sometimes they stayed up so long they could hardly keep their eyes open. They had to wiggle to keep from falling asleep.
Tonight Mara put on pajamas and hopped right into bed. Mama didn’t even have to remind her. She started looking at the pictures in the front of her Book of Mormon.
“What are you doing?” Marcella asked.
“A test,” Mara said. Her mind was full of happy thoughts. Plus she was already feeling sleepy.
The next thing Mara knew, the sun was peeking through her window. It was almost time to get ready for church. Instead of feeling yucky, Mara felt great. Her head didn’t feel fuzzy. Her body didn’t feel tired.
She got to Primary even before some of the leaders.
“Thank you for being such a good example to the other children,” Sister Lima said.
Now it was Mara’s turn to smile. She decided she would always go to bed early on Saturday. That way she would be able to spread smiles all Sunday long.

When I was about 12, I was asked to sing a solo in my home ward. My parents encouraged me to memorize the hymn so that I could look out into the audience. I worked on the song for many weeks until I could sing it without looking at the words. When the Sunday arrived, I sat on the stand and felt my heart pounding. I had sung in other wards before, but I felt nervous singing in front of people I knew. My greatest fear was that I would make a mistake.
When it was time, I stood up and walked up to the microphone. I felt my stomach flip. I was too afraid to make eye contact with anyone, so I looked at the clock at the back instead. My accompanist began to play the introduction, and I started to sing. I made it halfway through the hymn without any difficulties when I looked down from the clock to the congregation. Suddenly, I forgot the words to the hymn. My accompanist continued playing for a few more measures until she figured out I had stopped singing. She went back to where I had left off and encouragingly played the melody, hoping to remind me of the words.
The words did not come. Fear began to rise within me. My face flushed with heat, and I could feel my ears turning red. My mind raced through the words of the hymn trying to remember what came next, but the words did not come. I looked out into the audience feeling humiliated and embarrassed. My heart crumpled with disappointment and embarrassment. I began to cry. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I hung my head, burying my face in my hands. I felt everyone staring at me. I wasn’t sure whether I should sit down or stand there until I could remember the words.
Suddenly, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I looked up through teary eyes to see my bishop, Bishop Smith, smiling at me. He leaned down and told me that he would sing with me. He then nodded to the sister to begin playing. Bishop Smith’s beautiful baritone voice filled the chapel as he began to sing. He knew the words! As soon as he sang them, I remembered them as well. With his arm around my shoulder, I felt the courage to begin again, and together we finished the song.

Sister Aketzaly Llanos was an exemplary missionary with a stalwart testimony. She was originally assigned to the Costa Rica San José East Mission, but she served with my wife, Janeen, and me in the Mexico Aguascalientes Mission for a year before she received a visa to Costa Rica.
In April 2022 we waved goodbye as Sister Llanos boarded a plane for Mexico City, where she would catch a connecting flight to Costa Rica. Less than 24 hours after we said goodbye, however, police in Mexico City called us.
“We’ve arrested Aketzaly Llanos at the airport for possession of a military-grade bullet,” they said. “This is a federal crime, and she will be prosecuted.”
Immediately, I contacted the Church’s area legal office, and they hired an attorney to seek Sister Llanos’s release. This attorney was not a member of the Church. He committed to help us but expressed pessimism. He explained that mere possession of a military bullet by nonmilitary personnel is a serious crime, regardless of a person’s intent.
Later, Sister Llanos told us she had picked up the bullet off the street in her last area. She thought it was a souvenir. The bullet, after all, resembled the souvenir key chains sold outside an old silver mine in one of her previous areas. Government investigators, however, treated her like a terrorist. Within a few days, Sister Llanos was moved from the airport jail to a high-security prison where the worst female criminals were housed.
Prayers for Sister Llanos’s prompt release began immediately. Janeen and I invited the 115 missionaries serving in our mission to exercise faith that we could see a miracle, if it was the Lord’s will. I contacted the mission presidents in Mexico City, the Costa Rica San José East Mission, and the Mexico Missionary Training Center, and they invited their missionaries to join us in prayer.
A preliminary trial was quickly scheduled in Mexico City. Janeen and I went to testify in person. When we met the legal team outside the courthouse, the attorney was visibly nervous, pacing up and down the sidewalk.
I took him aside and said: “Today you are going to feel more calm and more peaceful than you have ever felt in a courtroom. Let me tell you why. More than 500 missionaries and their families are praying for you and your success today. They’re also praying that the judge will have a softened heart and that he will release Sister Llanos from prison.”
The attorney’s eyes filled with tears, and he expressed his appreciation for the faith and prayers of so many people in his behalf.
At 10:00 a.m. the trial started, but I was required to wait outside until my turn to testify. Two long hours passed. Then the courtroom guard came out and said the judge didn’t need to hear my testimony—he’d already made his decision.
Anxiously, I entered the courtroom, and the judge began to speak. He spoke about the law Sister Llanos had violated and about the serious charges she faced.
“Disregarding all that,” he continued, “I believe the evidence that has been presented about Sister Llanos’s good character.” Then he quoted an obscure part of the law that allowed him to grant mercy, and he immediately released her.
Sister Llanos with Sister Janeen Redd, into whose arms Sister Llanos collapsed upon her release from prison.
This was the miracle we had sought! Instead of being sentenced to four or more years in prison, Sister Llanos was free to go.
Twelve hours later, Sister Llanos was released, still dressed in prison clothes. She collapsed into Janeen’s arms. Once we all stopped crying enough to speak, Sister Llanos exclaimed, “President, I got some referrals in prison!”
This entire experience confirmed that “God has not ceased to be a God of miracles” (Mormon 9:15). I have no doubt that the faith and prayers of many good people helped an attorney argue his case and softened the judge’s heart.
Because Sister Llanos was arrested, several imprisoned women received hope through the gospel of Jesus Christ, an attorney sprouted a seed of faith, and we were strengthened in our conviction that God can use us to further His work no matter where we are.

My first few months of being a new member of the Church were rough ones—especially for my friends. On one hand, I was excited about what I had found, the feelings of inner peace and the joy I felt in my close relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
On the other hand, in my excitement to share my new understanding of the restored gospel and its teachings, I started to regularly tell my non-LDS friends when they did something I thought was wrong.
Of course, I was about as subtle as a bull elephant on a charge.
One evening in the early summer, I finally realized how judgmental and self-righteous I had become. About five months after my baptism, I went to an outdoor concert with a good friend. As we walked around the grounds trying to find a spot to eat our picnic before the concert began, I noticed many of the people around us had brought wine to share with their dinner. Not one to pass up an opportunity to show how much wisdom I had acquired by being a member of the Church, I hissed to my friend, “Look at all those people drinking wine—that’s disgusting!”
My kind and patient friend turned to me and said, “I’m sure that when Jewish people go into a restaurant, they don’t walk around and criticize everyone with ham on their plates.”
I finally had the good sense to be silent for a little while and ponder what he said. I realized that in all the lessons I had been taught, there had been no mention of members going forth and judging their neighbors. As a matter of fact, the terms “silent example” and “loving nature” had been used a lot.
Embarrassed, I thanked my friend for his wisdom and apologized for my lack of consideration.
I am happy to report that his message came through loud and clear. I stopped demanding changes from my friends and started demanding change from myself. I still stand strong for the things I believe in, but in a polite way—a way that, happily, has made my friends comfortable in talking to me about the Church.

Matt and Margaret (all names have been changed) turned off the television following the concluding session of general conference. The messages had been inspiring, and they had enjoyed the positive atmosphere that had permeated their home that weekend.
Nobody could have been more disappointed than Matt and Margaret were when, less than 24 hours later, they were having a heated argument over whether to save an unexpected bonus Matt had received at work or spend it on school clothes for the older kids. The debate was not resolved, and Matt and Margaret each moved on to other tasks feeling misunderstood.
To create a lasting, happy marriage, couples must learn how to resolve conflicts so that each individual feels understood and decisions are made that involve acceptable compromise.
Scriptures and words of prophets and apostles provide ample cautions about contention. In 3 Nephi we read, “He that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention” (3 Nephi 11:29). Elder M. Russell Ballard of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught that Satan “works to drive a wedge of disharmony between a father and a mother. He entices children to be disobedient to their parents. … Satan knows that the surest and most effective way to disrupt the Lord’s work is to diminish the effectiveness of the family and the sanctity of the home.”1
Differences of opinion, habit, or background are inevitable, but we have ample resources to help us know how to cope. Doctrine and instruction taught in Sunday worship and Church publications can help and can be supplemented with quality professional information as needed. Couples can learn methods for dealing with conflict. Inspiration can lead to changing hearts that soften each spouse from the inside.
President Thomas S. Monson cautioned: “Some of our greatest opportunities to demonstrate our love will be within the walls of our own homes. Love should be the very heart of family life, and yet sometimes it is not. There can be too much impatience, too much arguing, too many fights, too many tears.”2
When troubles persist and become destructive to family life, there can be more serious causes of conflict, including immaturity, selfishness, desire to win power struggles, and pride. President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) taught, “I have long felt that the greatest factor in a happy marriage is an anxious concern for the comfort and well-being of one’s companion. In most cases selfishness is the leading factor that causes argument, separation, divorce, and broken hearts.”3
Elder Marvin J. Ashton (1915–94) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles also commented: “When one considers the bad feeling and the unpleasantness caused by contention, it is well to ask, ‘Why do I participate?’ …
“… It is important to recognize that we choose our behavior. At the root of this issue is the age-old problem of pride.”4
Whatever the cause, we need to learn new skills and soften our hearts when problems persist.
There are many causes of conflict, ranging from superficial personal biases to deeper ingrained communication styles. In addition to overcoming selfishness and immaturity, couples will face other common causes of conflict including such factors as the following:
Newlyweds learning to adjust to one another’s styles
Natural differences between men and women
Edginess prompted by exhaustion
Different opinions on how to best raise children or manage finances
Children learning to use agency
Different likes and dislikes
Overreactions to stress
Lack of understanding or skill in resolving conflict
Many marital or family conflicts arise because of uncontrolled anger. If we’re not careful, we can follow an angry incident with constant thinking about how we were wronged. The longer we ruminate the more reasons we can generate to justify our perspective. This brooding can prevent us from calming down, and when a second wave of anger emerges before the first is resolved, hormonal reactions can lead to additional outbursts.
For example, in a counseling session, Marilyn described how frustrating it had been to lie in bed after she and her husband had yelled at each other. “I knew I was in the right,” she said. “I knew he was going to flip on the light and apologize, but he never did. The more I thought about it, the madder I got. When I heard him start to snore, I couldn’t stand it—I jumped out of bed and yelled at him some more and then went downstairs. Can you believe that he still didn’t apologize?” Marilyn’s experience is a good example of how not to deal with angry feelings.
Habits, even short-term ones, can seem hard to break. But spouses can learn skills to help. Here are some useful practices:
Challenge thoughts quickly. In our example, Marilyn could have said to herself, “It seems like I’m right, but I’m blowing it out of proportion. My relationship with my husband matters more to me than what we’re arguing about.”
Allow your emotions to calm before you try tackling a problem. Wait out the chemical reaction that may be taking place.
Find a distraction. Choose to think about something else or take a walk.
Write down your thoughts. For some, this helps to increase self-awareness.
Let it out in productive ways. Yelling about your feelings won’t help you “get it out of your system.” The more you vent in an angry manner, the more intense your feelings will become.
Listen to calming music or read uplifting literature.
Start over. Catch yourself in the beginning of a disagreement. Research has shown that the first three to five minutes of a conversation lays the foundation for what is likely to follow. Say, “This is going in a bad direction. Let’s start over.”
Strengthening Marriage, an LDS Family Services’ manual, recommends three steps for resolving conflict: (1) expressing views, (2) exploring concerns, and (3) selecting mutually satisfying solutions.5 These steps are based on a communication and sharing model that is cooperative and addresses the issues of all concerned.
Each individual shares views in an honest but non-attacking manner. Sometimes thoughtful reflection resolves the problem as it becomes clear the disagreement was merely a misunderstanding. For example, a wife who thinks her husband is selfishly insisting that she attend a high school basketball game with him instead of going out to dinner for a date, might come to understand that he is less interested in basketball than in showing attention to a player who has stopped attending his Sunday School class.
Couples explore concerns at a deeper level. The focus is on understanding and accepting one another’s concerns. Continuing the basketball example, the wife, while understanding her husband’s concern for the student, might believe that he is developing a pattern of always putting the needs of others before those of the marriage. In this case, a more thoughtful discussion must be held in which each expresses feelings in a sensitive manner and opposition gives way to cooperation.
Couples brainstorm and decide on mutually satisfying solutions. The focus is on what each individual can do to address the concerns rather than on what their spouse can do. Such negotiation can test maturity and patience but, over time, lead to a belief that there is safety in expressing feelings and confidence that each person’s desires will be addressed. Our couple may agree to spend one Friday night together at a basketball game, one Friday night in which the husband attends the game alone, and two Friday nights doing couple activities. It is not as important how the couple chooses to spend Friday night as it is that the quality of the decision-making process is satisfying to both.
Wonderful blessings flow from resolving conflicts in an atmosphere of love. These include security; personal growth, which leads to inner peace; increased faith; enhanced character; and personal righteousness.
When conflicts are resolved, new patterns can take their place. The door then opens for spouses to express positive thoughts and demonstrate support. Sister Jean B. Bingham, Relief Society General President, said: “Words have surprising power, both to build up and to tear down. We can all probably remember negative words that brought us low and other words spoken with love that made our spirits soar. Choosing to say only that which is positive about—and to—others lifts and strengthens those around us and helps others follow in the Savior’s way.”6
Couples who have made long-term progress in resolving conflict reap desirable rewards. A husband of a previously troubled relationship said, “It’s hard for me to look back on how it used to be and believe that it was real. How could I have treated my wife the way I did? I’m grateful for the Spirit getting my attention and for the patience my wife has shown to me.”
Overcoming conflict takes conscious effort and follow-through. The very next thing you say or do can start more positive communication patterns in your marriage. You too can reap the fruits of the Spirit as experienced by the Nephites: “There was no contention in the land, because of the love of God which did dwell in the hearts of the people.
“And there were no envyings, nor strifes, nor tumults … ; and surely there could not be a happier people” (4 Nephi 1:15–16).

Tanner usually watched the weather forecast on TV to find out if it would be warm enough to wear shorts the next day. One night he was surprised when the weatherman mentioned something besides the weather.
“A meteor shower will light up the sky tomorrow night,” the weatherman said. “The forecast calls for clear skies, but the best view for stargazers will be away from the lights of the city.”
“Awesome!” Tanner exclaimed. He liked looking at the stars, but he had never seen a meteor shower before. “Dad, will we be able to see it from our house?”
“I think we might be able to spot a meteor or two, if you can stay awake that late,” Dad said with a smile.
“I can,” Tanner insisted.
All the next day Tanner looked forward to watching the meteor shower. He felt like it would never get dark enough. It was pretty late when he and Dad finally stepped outside into the warm night. Even though it was past his bedtime, Tanner was too excited to be tired. Dad found the perfect spot in the backyard. They lay down on their backs and stared up at the millions of flickering lights.
“Look at all the stars,” Tanner said. “Does the universe ever end?”
Dad shook his head. “We see just a tiny part. No one really knows how many stars and planets there are,” he said. “Did you know that some of the stars you see are suns for distant planets?”
“That’s cool!” Tanner said.
While they waited, they talked about space and stars. Dad pointed out a satellite as it moved across the sky.
After a while, Dad and Tanner started seeing meteors. Some were bright points of light with long tails. Others blazed by in exploding flashes that quickly disappeared. One followed another, a little like fireworks in the night sky.
“Did you see that?” Tanner asked, pointing to a fading streak of light.
“That was a good one,” Dad said.
“There’s another one,” Tanner said as a brilliant light burst into view.
They watched the sky for a long time and saw many meteors before Dad said it was time to go inside and get some sleep.
Tanner was having so much fun he wished he could stay up until morning. “Let’s do this again sometime,” he said as he stood and reluctantly walked to the back steps of their home.
“We will,” Dad said.
“Thanks,” Tanner said with a smile. Even though he didn’t want to go inside, things had turned out even better than he’d expected. He got to stay up late, gaze at the stars, and see so many meteors that he lost count. But the best part of the whole night wasn’t any of those things—it was the memories he had made with Dad.

I had been working at the movie theater for less than a month by the time my co-workers discovered I was a member of the Church. Several co-workers asked me questions about the Church and I answered them, but I never invited anyone to learn more. One co-worker, Garrett, had been assigned to work many of the same shifts that I had been, and we quickly became friends.
One night we were both assigned to clean theaters between showings. Garrett started asking me questions about the gospel. I answered his questions and then felt a distinct prompting to invite him to church. My heart raced. I had never invited anyone to learn more about the gospel. Missionary work terrified me. I was afraid that if I shared the gospel and Garrett wasn’t interested, things would be awkward between us. But the prompting was so strong I knew I had to follow it.
“You should come to church with me sometime,” I said, trying to control the tremor in my voice.
“No way!” Garrett exclaimed.
I was stunned. I was grateful we were in a dark theater so he couldn’t see how embarrassed I was. As we finished cleaning the theater in silence, I wondered why I had been prompted to invite Garrett to church. Did Heavenly Father just want to humble me? I didn’t know, but I was sure that things would never be the same between Garrett and me. We went out into the hall, and Garrett broke the silence. Soon, we were laughing and joking. There was no awkwardness.
Then the realization hit me. I had finally attempted to share the gospel, and though my invitation had been rejected, I was still standing. I had nothing to fear. Since then I have been able to share the gospel several times and have had some positive experiences. I’m grateful for this experience, which helped me overcome my fear of missionary work.
[illustration] Illustration by Sam Lawlor

The 49 Montgomery Alabama Stake youths piled out of their vehicles. Rakes, shovels, and axes were unloaded from auto trunks as they began to tackle the weeds, leaves, and debris around the old Magnolia chapel. They were continuing a tradition of service for the Church that stretches back nearly 80 years to the night of Saturday, May 8, 1897, when Henry McCoy and Grover Surginer passed a group of riders hurrying through the dark, wooded lane. The men’s faces were covered, which caused the pair to wonder.
“I recognized one of the horses, though. It belongs to John Garrett,” one of them commented as they continued to the bowery erected for the conference sessions being held in Magnolia.
When the men got to the crossroads where the bowery was located, they discovered that the seats, made of planks and sawed blocks, had been heaped together and ignited. The two men quickly put out the blaze.
The next day the members met again in conference despite the blackened ends of the seats. For them, persecution was nothing new. The missionaries had been tarred and feathered before and had eggs thrown at them. Converts reaped the ire of relatives and neighbors alike, but they didn’t quit. Service to the Church has continued into modern times.
Some of the youths were directed to begin digging around a stubborn four-foot stump. It wasn’t long before thick roots had to be chopped through with the axes as the young people laboriously dug deeper in their attempt to remove the old stump. It had been a stately tree when the Church took hold in that part of the state.
The tree had been young when Olivia Tucker McCoy joined the Church. In her diary she wrote: “We were baptized Oct. 3, 1897. My husband’s father had given him the place he settled on with the understanding that he would help him work and pay for that place and the one his father bought, but as it was his father’s he never got the deed. So, after we joined the Mormons his father told him he would have to move.”
Their little daughter had been burned in a fire in December, and they asked for time before moving the child but were ordered out. On January 3, 1898, “We put her in the wagon on a bed, moved to what they called the Coates place, and rented the same from Jim Smyly.
“The Christmas of 1898 I spent with my sister, a Mrs. Guinn, the one I lived with when I was married. But the folks didn’t seem just the same. You see, I had joined the Mormons and I was reminded of it.”
Nor did the early Saints forget it either. In 1913, with the aid of Elder Sellers from Vernal, Utah, and Elder Joseph E. Ward from Parowan, Utah, the Magnolia chapel was built. It stands now as the oldest LDS chapel in Alabama.
Before construction began, a mob gathered to drive the elders out. Mrs. Willie Autrey, a nonmember, stepped out with her gun and turned the mob away. So the Magnolia chapel was built and has stood through the years as a monument to the dedication of area Saints, early and modern.
The youths raked the weeds and leaves from the Church’s cemetery. The area around the building began to look neater, although the stump was not yet removed. The diggers were making progress when they stopped briefly for lunch.
Despite the persecution in the early days, a number of families joined the Church. Later many moved west—the Martins, Sealeys, Cranfords, Torberts, and others—leaving only a few to use the chapel and the adjoining cemetery.
Today, the old LDS chapel in Magnolia is used for socials only. A newer, larger building stands next door and is used by the 50 members of the Magnolia Branch.
The young people returned to work. The ancient, worn-out fence was pulled down, the rotted wood piled for a bonfire. That afternoon they held a testimony meeting, followed by a hot dog and marshmallow roast, which concluded at 7:00 P.M.
Perhaps as they worked or relaxed, they recalled some of the stories told about the chapel, including the time it caught fire during a conference in 1937. The blaze was caused by a defective flue to the pot-bellied stove. A bucket brigade was formed, and water drawn from the well was passed up to Heber B. Martin, who doused the burning wood.
The chapel has been the scene of a number of talks by various Church authorities, including mission president Charles A. Callis, who presided over the Southern States Mission for about a quarter of a century and later became a General Authority.
Sometimes as many as 30 missionaries would be in attendance at the conferences in Magnolia. Today, conference is held in the Montgomery stake center 100 miles east of Magnolia, but the small chapel, while no longer in official use, still stands as a reminder of the heritage of the Alabama Saints.

My 15-year-old son was excited about the many things going on in his life—friends, skateboards, cars, and his learner’s driving permit. He was not, however, excited about his responsibilities as a home teacher.
My heart sank one Sunday when he said, “Home teaching is a waste of time. I’m going to call my adviser and tell him that he needs to get someone else because I’m never going home teaching again!”
Before he had the opportunity to find his priesthood adviser’s name in the ward directory, however, the telephone rang. It was his newly assigned home teaching companion, Brother Bernd Suckow, who spoke with a thick German accent.
“Toby, I’m coming to get you right now,” he said. “You are my new companion, and I thought we could make a few visits. It is good? OK. Good-bye.”
Brother Suckow was either inspired not to wait for a response, or he assumed that Toby’s surprised silence was synonymous with consent. Either way, 10 minutes later there came a knock at the door. Before Toby could protest, an ebullient man had pulled him outside and stuffed a set of car keys into his hand.
“Your name is Toby? Nice to meet you,” Brother Suckow said. “Toby, it is the Sabbath, and I test-drive cars for a living. I think it is not so good for me to drive on the Sabbath since it is my vocation. Can you help me out? Do you have a driving permit? Can you drive us to our home teaching appointments?”
Toby’s jaw dropped as he saw the late-model sports car that Brother Suckow was test-driving that week. He quickly realized that he had almost lost what promised to be a memorable home teaching assignment.
When they returned a short while later, Toby showed Brother Suckow some new computer equipment, and they were soon talking about the latest trends in technology. When he left, Brother Suckow said, “I think it is good if we finish up our home teaching visits next Sunday. What do you think, Toby?”
Toby’s little brother blurted out, “Can I be a home teacher too?”
Toby never hesitated when it came time to home teach with Brother Suckow. After a few months, home teaching was no longer about the nice cars he had the opportunity to drive. Rather, Brother Suckow had become a genuine friend, and Toby learned how important home teaching was to the families they visited.
Brother Suckow and his wife, Barbara, eventually returned to Germany. Our stake misses them greatly. I will never forget Brother Suckow’s powerful example of love for a young man whose testimony of home teaching needed a jump start.

From my infancy I had heard the Word of Wisdom stories about tea and coffee and tobacco, etc. Nearly every Sunday School day and Primary day we sang lustily, I with the other boys:
That the children may live long,
And be beautiful and strong,
Tea and coffee and tobacco they despise,
Drink no liquor, and they eat
But a very little meat;
They are seeking to be great and good and wise.
We sang it time and time again until it became an established part of my vocabulary and my song themes, but more especially my life’s plan. Occasionally some respected speaker said he had never tasted the forbidden things we sang against and then I made up my mind. Never would I use these forbidden things the prophets preached against. That decision was firm and unalterable. I would not and did not deviate.
In 1937 my wife and I were touring in Europe. In France I sat at a banquet table of the Rotary International convention in a fashionable hotel. The large, spacious banquet room held hundreds of people. The many waiters moved about the tables, and at every place, besides plenteous silver, linen, and fancy serving dishes, were seven wine glasses. No one was watching me. The temptation nudged me: Shall I drink it or at least sip it? No one who cares will know. Here was quite a temptation. Shall I or shall I not?
Then the thought came: I had made a firm resolution as a boy that I would never touch the forbidden things. I had already lived a third of a century firm and resolute. I would not break my record now. …
Now is the time to set your life’s goals. Now is the time to set your standards firmly and then hold to them throughout your life.

It was the day of my first race and I had come early to register and stretch out. I planned to run the 5K alone because I wasn’t very fast.
Then I saw the first counselor in the bishopric of my college ward, an experienced runner, among the gathering crowd. Just as he recognized me, the officials called all runners to the starting line. He asked if I was running with anyone. I said I wasn’t and admitted that, although I had been training for two months, all I hoped for was to finish the race. He offered to run with me and I accepted. I was delighted to have some company.
The gun sounded and we started off slowly. He was by my side the entire time. We talked about future races, the upcoming term in school, and his past races. He told me how he had used the “Boy Scout pace” to finish his first few races. He would run 50 steps, then walk 25 steps, until he could run the entire distance. It sounded strange to me, but since he was a much more experienced runner, I agreed as I got tired to finish the race this way.
As we rounded the final corner it was obvious that we were the last two runners. I sprinted to the finish line. But my running companion must have sensed my fear of being the last runner because he stayed behind. When we met after the race, he smiled and congratulated me on a good run.
I was touched that he was willing to take last place, so I wouldn’t have to. My ward leader taught me a lot about humility, service, and the pure love of Christ during that short race. Moroni’s words now have greater meaning for me when I read, “And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own. … Wherefore … if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth” (Moro. 7:45–46).

When Caroline was five, she woke between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. for many nights in a row. One night after this unwelcome wake-up call, I wrote this:
As I was changing her diaper just now, I was absentmindedly singing one of the [Primary] songs that Lizzy [our older daughter] has declared we shall now sing for bedtime every night. … “God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be.”2 And I looked at Caroline and suddenly the words came to the forefront of my consciousness.
God gave me a family—including this 2:00 a.m. waker—to help me become what He wants me to be. … “This is how He shares His love,” the chorus continues, “for the fam’ly is of God.”
That night I felt a brief, blessed communion with God, a confirmation that He was, in that moment, personally aware of me and Caroline and our family. He loves us. And He, my Father, gave me encouragement by teaching me why we face such challenges: “to help us become what He wants us to be.”

Usually, we sit in two or three rows for our Young Women lesson, and our teacher stands in the front. But one Sunday our teacher had us move our chairs around a circular table. For some reason sitting in a circle made it feel like we could talk to one another instead of only speaking to the teacher. We all felt like we were actually sisters, not just students. In fact, before the lesson even began, one young woman said, “I feel like we’re family right now.”
That Sunday, the lesson was on the Atonement. Our teacher started by passing out copies of a general conference talk. She asked us to circle words that describe the Savior. We called out the words we were circling so others could circle them. After that, our teacher spoke briefly about the Atonement and then turned to me and asked if I had anything to say. I don’t remember what I said, but afterward all the young women started talking to one another. We had a conversation! We were talking about our Savior and His sacrifice as a group of friends.
After a while, the conversation slowed down and we just sat in silence, enjoying the Spirit.
This lesson was remarkable. Because I participated, I felt the Spirit strongly and the lesson became a part of me. I had a testimony of the Atonement before, but this lesson reminded me that the Savior is real and that the Atonement and the gospel are about love. I now have a stronger love for my peers—Church members and those who are not members—and I want to share the gospel with everyone so they can know the blessings of the Atonement. Doing something about a lesson—whether it’s commenting in class or writing in your journal—changes you.

These escapes started at an early age.
One morning in my eleventh year my brother, my cousin, I, and a fourth boy were standing on the rim of Salt Lake’s City Creek Canyon.
The fourth boy had a mail-order 22-caliber pistol with a broken trigger spring. He had stretched an elastic band across the hammer and under the trigger guard to act as a spring to fire the weapon.
He was showing us how Buffalo Bill shot, by raising the gun high and then bringing it down slowly, releasing the hammer when it was level. Suddenly I felt my left hand go numb. Looking down, I saw a red stain on the white sleeve of my left arm at the biceps level. The stain got larger. I yelled, “I’m shot,” and ran for home.
The bullet had pierced my arm and passed completely through it without touching bones or arteries. I had been on the extreme left of the group, the boy with the gun on the extreme right. The bullet passed in front of my chest on the level of my heart and must have been very close to the skin as it passed. Otherwise it could not have hit my left arm. If that gun had been turned one-fourth of an inch farther to the left, I wouldn’t be here now!
I have since thought about what it was that protected me. I am not one to say that I am a man marked for protection, but I believe I was protected that time.

Richard’s life, before joining the Church, was one of welfare checks, food stamps, social worker interviews, public health clinics, and unpaid medical and utility bills. Neither Richard nor his wife knew how to handle even small amounts of money. Richard experienced a marvelous conversion to the Church but came in with many personal deficiencies. He had great difficulty in holding a job. He was referred by his bishop to Deseret Industries for employment. For the first time in his adult life, he began earning a regular paycheck. As Richard worked at Deseret Industries, he began to develop pride in himself. He no longer humped over when he spoke. His wife and children began to develop respect for him as patriarch in the home.
The Deseret Industries rehabilitation coordinator worked closely with Richard as did his bishop. A checking account was established in his name. A workable family budget was outlined and agreed to. Doctor bills that had remained unpaid for over a year were paid. A two-and-a-half-month-old electric bill was paid the day the power was to be shut off. All other bills were slowly brought up to date and handled properly.
Richard’s life was changing. He felt self-worth and direction. Early in July of this year, the general manager of a large laundry-linen business came to the Deseret Industries. He was looking for good employees. Richard was to be given the chance to interview for a job. He expressed great anxiety about the interview. Richard and the Deseret Industries rehabilitation coordinator practiced interviewing over and over. Richard passed the interview and was hired. A new life-style was about to begin.
When Richard left Deseret Industries, a luncheon was held in his honor, during which the following was recorded:
“Brothers and sisters, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I have found a job in the labor market which will pay me more money than I have ever made before. For the first time in my life, I will be able to provide for my family in the way our Heavenly Father wants me to. I am progressing, which is what this life is all about. The bad news, or I should say the sad news, is that I will be leaving all of you. I love you from the bottom of my heart. I am grateful for what Deseret Industries has done for me. I pray that you will all find the happiness I have experienced in working at Deseret Industries. I especially want to thank both Jim Wilson and my bishop who have done so much for me. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Richard surpassed his own and his new employer’s expectations. He has recently been promoted and given a handsome increase in salary. A soul, a human life, has been blessed—probably nothing else could have done what a bishop and a Deseret Industries rehabilitation coordinator did.

One youth described how he first experienced the spirit of worship. He had been marginally active through his Aaronic Priesthood years. When he attended sacrament meeting, he usually sat in the back with a group of his friends, and he was less than a model of reverence.

One day, however, he came in a little late, and there were no seats by his friends. He sat alone, and for the first time in his life, he closed his eyes during the prayers, he sang the hymns, he listened to the sacrament prayers, and he paid attention to the speakers.

About midway through the first speaker, he found tears welling up in his eyes. With some embarrassment, he carefully glanced around; no one else seemed emotional. He didn’t know for sure what was happening to him, but the experience changed his life. It was during that meeting that he really started his spiritual preparation for his mission. He felt something, and fortunately, he acted and thus sustained those feelings.

Anyone who’s been a Boy Scout can tell you that becoming an Eagle is no simple task. But for Ryan Scholes, a member of the Basalt Ward, Firth Idaho Stake, becoming an Eagle Scout was an extra-special achievement.
Because Ryan has Down’s syndrome, earning merit badges, learning Scouting skills, and organizing his Eagle project were all more challenging than usual. Other members of his troop helped him with some of the more difficult tasks, but little by little, Ryan became a true Scouter on his own.
The day before Ryan turned 18, he completed his project of collecting more than 700 food items for needy families in his troop area. And, although it may have been a little harder for Ryan to achieve the rank of Eagle, he’s proud that in his troop he’s just “one of the boys.”

Elder Yokunido Sato joined the Church six years ago in his hometown of Sapporo, Japan. He was formerly a Buddhist and is the only Latter-day Saint in his family. He says he had “the faith to go on a mission because President Kimball wanted all young men to go on a mission.” Elder Sato had learned a little English in school and then studied English at the Church’s Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. He now teaches the gospel in both English and Japanese.

His companion, Elder David Gathers, from Pine Bluff, North Carolina, did not attend the Missionary Training Center as a foreign-speaking missionary to learn Japanese, but he has learned so well from Elder Sato that he can now teach the discussions in Japanese.

Elders Sato and Gathers were assigned to Salt Lake City’s Temple Square where the Salt Lake Temple, the Tabernacle, the Assembly Hall and two Church visitors’ centers are located. Beautifully landscaped, Temple Square attracts approximately two million tourists each year. One such tourist was twenty-one-year-old Chitomi Tanaka, from Japan, who had come to Utah to visit a friend. After the elders took her on a tour of Temple Square, they asked if she would like to know more about the Church. Chitomi read the Book of Mormon and knew it was true, but she had concerns about joining the Church. The elders challenged her to be baptized and set a date, but as that and later baptismal dates approached, Chitomi decided not to be baptized. Finally, after five months of studying the gospel, she was baptized. She has since returned to Japan, where, Elder Sato reports, she is a faithful member of the Church.

Elder Sato and Elder Gathers have also had the opportunity to teach a Vietnamese lady and her daughter.

Other missionaries in Salt Lake City have similar multi-language experiences. Sister Marie Normand was reared in French-speaking Quebec, Canada. Called to serve in Salt Lake City, she went to the Missionary Training Center to learn English. In the mission, she was assigned as a companion to Sister Janice Rider, also a Canadian, who was working with a number of Cambodian refugees. The French-speaking missionary who learned English is now teaching the gospel in Cambodian.

About 8,000 Southeast Asian refugees live in Utah, with about fifty to one hundred new refugees arriving every month. Donald and Irene Jones, of Mesa, Arizona, are a welfare services missionary couple who labor among the Cambodian refugees. Elder Jones relates that “about thirty percent of the people we help with clothing, furniture, food, and job-training are not members of the Church. Helping people often opens the door to teaching the gospel.”

One such conversion story is that of Sakhan Lay, who was a school teacher in Cambodia. When the government fell, her family was separated and she was sent to a prison camp. Twice she faced a firing squad, but her life was spared. Miraculously she escaped, and was able to locate her children who had fled to Thailand. A Latter-day Saint Cambodian family living in Utah sponsored the Lays so that they could come to Salt Lake City. They have since joined the Church, and Sister Lay is now working as a social worker among her people.

Two Salt Lake North missionaries from Vietnam taught the gospel discussions in English to an investigator who had a Hispanic background. Elder Jeff Reyes, from Los Angeles, California, had been a student football player with the University of Utah before joining a professional team. After a knee injury ended the 122-kilogram man’s football career, he returned to Salt Lake City, although he had very strong feelings against the Church. However, when he met the missionaries, he was receptive to the gospel and was baptized. President Owen recalls that, “Jeff was so excited after his baptism he hugged those little Vietnamese missionaries and literally lifted their feet off the ground. I joked to my wife that I feared for their lives.”