Gospel Story Finder

A couple of months ago I was traveling to New York. While I was there I decided to take a trip to visit my brother who lives in Palmyra, New Jersey. I don't know how many of you have ever driven in Manhattan but it can be a frightening experience if you're not from the City. I decided to rent a GPS unit so that I could find my way out of the city and to the Holland tunnel which would lead my to the New Jersey turnpike. I put in the address of where I started and the address of where I wanted to end up. I was amazed that it told me how to get out of the parking garage and then on my way to the tunnel.
As I approached the tunnel the entrance was blocked and I had to find another way. As I drove past the entrance a friendly voice came on and said recalculating recalculating. I thought to myself hurry and recalculate because the people behind me are not very patient. I found my way through the tunnel and onto the New Jersey turnpike. Finally I got to the exit that would take me to Palmyra. As I was heading down the road I missed another turn, my friend spoke again, "recalculating, recalculating." I thought this was fun so I purposely missed a couple of more turns just to see if my voice would get me back on track. Well just like the GPS that recalculated my driving instructions, the scriptures help us to do the same and get safely to our designation.

Let me know how I can help. I’ve said this myself, dozens of times, but words alone are meaningless. I prefer the approach of my neighbor when a section of my backyard fence was blown over in a windstorm. He didn’t ask if there was anything he could do to help, he just came over one day, replaced a rotted post, and repaired the fence.
Are there some specific things that you could use some help with right now? When my neighbor saw my broken fence and fixed it, he knew that I needed help. But other needs aren’t as easily determined without asking. Gently ask or suggest ways in which you might help. For example, I was concerned that the financial provisions for my family were in order, but didn’t quite know how to go about determining whether or not they were. One day my bishop, who is a certified public accountant, came to see me. “If you’d like me to,” he said, “I’d be happy to review your financial affairs with you and your wife.” I was grateful for his tact, and relieved to learn after his review that things were as we wished them to be.

A few years ago, a modern jetliner faltered after takeoff and plunged into the icy Potomac River near Washington, D.C. Acts of bravery and feats of heroism were in evidence that day. The most dramatic of which was one witnessed by the pilot of a rescue helicopter. The rescue rope was lowered to a struggling survivor. Rather than grasping the lifeline to safety, the man tied the line to another, who was then lifted to safety. The rope was lowered again, and yet another was saved. Five were rescued from the icy waters. Among them was not found the anonymous hero. Unknown by name, “he left the vivid air signed with his honor” (Stephen Spender, “I think continually of those—” in Masterpieces of Religious Verse, edited by James Dalton Morrison, New York; Harper and Brothers Publishers, page 291).

But they would tell more than this story when they talked of Catherine. Born 7 January 1855, sixteen months after her parents, who were pioneers, arrived in Salt Lake, Catherine was seven years old when her family was called to help settle Saint George in southern Utah. Catherine remembers that first Christmas in southern Utah. In her stocking, she found a few pieces of molasses candy, some raisins, and a slice from an apple that her mother had brought all the way from Salt Lake City. Her father carved thirteen dolls, and an artistic neighbor painted hair and faces on them. That Christmas, Catherine and twelve other little girls had dolls.

Don Antonio Manuel de Garcia was a short, round man with a tall opinion of himself. “I am the wealthiest man in all of San Pedro,” he would say. “Therefore, I am also the most important.”
Yet when he went out onto the calles (streets) of San Pedro, nobody gave him the attention he felt that he deserved.
“Perhaps if you thought more of others instead of yourself, you would gain the respect of the people,” his wife said gently.
Don Antonio did not listen. “Why, they pay more attention to that peasant, Juan Mendoza, than they do to me,” he grumbled.
His wife smiled. “Juan is a good man. He grinds corn for the old women of the pueblo, for their tortillas. He has a kind word for everyone, and you can always see him coming, because of that large sombrero he always wears.”
“Ahhhh, his sombrero!” Don Antonio ignored everything else she had said.
The next day he rode to the big city. When he returned, he was wearing a new sombrero—but what a sombrero! It had red tassels that bobbed as he trotted by, and a shadow so large that it kept both Don Antonio and his horse in shade from head to tail.
Villagers filled the calles as Don Antonio rode by. They stared in amazement.
He smiled and waved.
“At last the people see how important I am,” Don Antonio told his wife when he returned home.
She looked at the sombrero, shook her head, and said nothing.
For days Don Antonio went out whenever he could, enjoying the crowds that gathered at the sight of his unusual hat.
Soon, however, the novelty wore off. People saw him coming and merely murmured, “Buenos días (Good morning),” before returning to their tasks.
Don Antonio was not pleased.
“Why even Claudia Sanchez gets more attention than me,” he complained to his wife.
“Isn’t she the one who tutors the children after school?” she asked. “Even so, she has time to grow that magnificent garden—and shares what she grows with the less fortunate.”
“Ahhhh, a garden!”
The next day he rode into the big city. When he returned to San Pedro, people flocked to the calles again, their jaws dropped in amazement. Don Antonio was wearing the same sombrero, but now above the red tassels were piles of potatoes, cascades of corn, and bunches of bananas. It was a most amazing sight.
“At last they see how important I am,” he told his wife proudly.
She sighed and said nothing.
For a week Don Antonio basked in the attention of the village. However, his fame did not last. Soon people grew accustomed to his strange sombrero. They no longer gazed in awe as he rode through the calles, and he began to feel smaller and smaller beneath his enormous, heavy hat.
“Why, they pay more attention to Carlos Ramirez than they do to me,” he complained to his wife.
“Ah, Carlos,” she replied. “Isn’t he the boy who carries water for half the women of the pueblo and never charges a peso for it? He sings in the church choir and has a parrot named Xiomara.”
“Ahhhh, a parrot!”
The next day he rode into the big city. As he returned to San Pedro, the people of the pueblo gathered to stare. His sombrero was still huge, with red tassels, and it still looked like a garden. But now four enormous parrots perched on the crown. Their tails dangled down over the sides of the sombrero, and they nibbled at the corn as they rode along.
It was a most unusual sight.
Don Antonio smiled as he rode through the crowd. At last they see how important I am, he thought proudly. But as he rode down the calle, enjoying the amazement of the crowd, he noticed that not everyone was watching him. Some of the children were playing a game.
He was angry. A man of his importance deserved the attention of everyone!
He waved his hands and shouted to make the children look at him.
The startled parrots fluttered from his hat. One landed on the horse’s head. The horse reared, and Don Antonio fell off—kersplash!—into a mud puddle nearly as large as his hat. The sombrero went rolling down the calle, scattering potatoes, corn, and bananas. The parrots winged their way to freedom.
The people of the pueblo sprang into action.
“Save the sombrero of Don Antonio Manuel de Garcia!” they shouted as they raced down the calle after the runaway hat. “Save that magnificent sombrero!”
Soon there was no one left but a short man sitting in a large mud puddle.
“Save Don Antonio Manuel de Garcia!” he cried, but nobody answered. So Don Antonio had to get himself out of the puddle and limp home with mud on his clothes and water in his boots.
“Even my sombrero is more important than I am,” he told his wife, sadly.
She looked at him and shook her head. “You’re the one who made the hat so important,” she pointed out. “If you spent as much time making friends as you did making a magnificent sombrero, you would not have been left alone in the calle. Never let what you wear become more important than what you are.”
For once, Don Antonio had nothing to say.

Many years ago I took our only son on his first camping-fishing trip. He was just a boy. The canyon was steep, and the descent was difficult. But the fishing was good. Every time I hooked a fish, I would give the pole to the eager boy, and with shouts of joy he would reel in a beautiful trout. In the shadows and coolness of the late afternoon, we began our climb back up to the rim high above us. He scrambled rapidly up the mountain ahead of me with a challenging, “Come on, Dad. I’ll bet I can beat you to the top.” The challenge was heard but wisely ignored. His small frame seemed literally to fly over, under, and around every obstacle, and when every step that I took seemed ridiculously like my last, he had reached the top and stood cheering me on. After supper we knelt in prayer. His small voice rose sweetly heavenward in benediction to our day. Then we climbed into our large double sleeping bag, and after a bit of pushing and pulling I felt his little body snuggle and settle tightly against mine for warmth and security against the night. As I looked at my son beside me, suddenly I felt a surge of love pass through my body with such force that it pushed tears to my eyes. And, at that precise moment, he put his little arms around me and said, “Dad?”
“Yes, son.”
“Are you awake?”
“Yes, my son, I am awake.”
“Dad, I love you a million, trillion times!”
And immediately he was asleep. But I was awake far into the night, expressing my great thanks for such wonderful blessings clothed with a little boy’s body.
Now my son is a man with a son of his own. Once in a while the three of us go fishing. I look at my little redheaded grandson beside his father, and I see in my mind’s eye the image of that wonderful moment long ago. The question so innocently asked, “Dad, are you awake?” still rings in my heart.

Music has helped Ryan reach out to others and set a good example. He teaches keyboard and composition classes in a special summer school program. One friend was very discouraged and turned to Ryan for advice. He told her to go home and turn the radio to a classical station instead of the usual hard rock she was accustomed to listening to. “She followed my advice,” Ryan said. “The next day she thanked me and said she didn’t feel one bit discouraged.”

After Todd and I got engaged, my mom suggested that we go to the temple a lot as a way to prepare for our marriage. Todd and I decided it was a good suggestion. Sometimes Todd performed baptisms with me, and sometimes he went to an endowment session while I participated in baptisms.

Todd and I were sometimes so busy we thought we wouldn’t have time to go to the temple. We had work and school and wedding preparations, but we wanted to go to the temple. Once we went to the temple instead of a football game that we had tickets to because we didn’t have any other time to go.

The blessings have been amazing. When I do baptisms for the dead, I learn how the Spirit speaks to me. Being able to forget worldly things and focus on the Savior has been really good. Todd and I haven’t had struggles or felt tempted because we’ve been going to the temple so often.

I was 17 years old and on top of the world. I had a university basketball scholarship, money in the bank from a hard summer’s work, a motorcycle and a pickup truck to drive, and all the aspirations of a typical teenager. Two months later I lay in a hospital bed with my body broken and my dreams shattered.
It was a motorcycle wreck—a head-on collision. No one was at fault. It was a stormy night. The driver of the car never saw my motorcycle coming. For two months I lay in bed. Then for six months I moved about on crutches. Weak and discouraged after months of inactivity and desperately needing money to continue my education, I began searching for summer employment.
I took a job with the railroad. Our crew was to patrol and repair a 15-mile stretch of track in a remote area called Little Warm River. Pine trees covered the mountains. Dozens of small streams meandered through the meadows. Large culverts had been placed under the railroad tracks to allow the streams to run freely, but beaver colonies would dam up each stream at the head of the culvert, creating a large reservoir with enough water pressure to wash out the tracks.
Volunteers were asked to crawl through the culvert and tear away the beaver dam, allowing the water to flow freely again. I always volunteered because no one else would, and, frankly, I rather enjoyed it. It was thrilling as I picked away at the dam, knowing that at any moment the water would break through and sweep me along with it head over heels, finally dumping me unceremoniously into the stream 15 yards away. There were times when I thought I would surely drown as I bumped along, submerged in that mighty flow of water and debris.
The next morning, as we would make our daily inspection, we could see that the beavers had already started to rebuild their dams. Within a short time, they would be totally reconstructed. It didn’t matter how many times we destroyed those dams, the beavers never seemed discouraged but steadily kept at their task. Those animals taught me a great lesson about never being discouraged, especially with things I could not control.
I loved that summer. The work was hard and sometimes I was homesick, but I recovered from the effects of that terrible motorcycle wreck. My body became strong once again. In the evening after work I walked those timbered mountains. I sat near those beaver dams with no other human being within miles to disturb my meditation. I had many solitary moments to think about the importance of being steady and constant.

As a new convert to the Church, I experienced a spiritual rescue through the saving hands of a faithful member of the Church. I grew up in Matsumoto, Japan, close to where the Nagano Winter Olympics were held. My hometown looks very much like Salt Lake City, a valley surrounded by beautiful mountains. When I was 17 years old, I met two American missionaries, Elder Carter and Elder Hayashi. Though our ages were only two or three years apart, the elders had something wonderful that I had never felt before. They were diligent, cheerful, and filled with love and light. I was deeply impressed by their qualities, and I wanted to become like them. I listened to their message and decided to be baptized. My parents, who were Buddhist, strongly opposed my baptism. Through the help of the missionaries and the Lord, I received permission and miraculously was baptized.
The next year I entered the university in Yokohama. Living alone, far from my hometown and the people I knew, I became lonely and strayed from the Church. One day I received a postcard from a Church member back home. She wrote that she had heard I was not attending Church meetings. She quoted a scripture and invited me to return to church. I was overwhelmed by the words of the scripture. This helped me realize that maybe I had lost something important, and I pondered and struggled for many days. This also caused me to remember a promise the missionaries had made to me: “If you read the Book of Mormon and ask in fervent prayer if the promise found in Moroni is true, you will know the truth through the power of the Holy Ghost.”2
I realized that I was not praying with all of my heart and decided to do so. One morning I woke up early, knelt in my small apartment, and prayed sincerely. To my surprise, the confirmation of the Holy Ghost came upon me as promised. My heart burned, my body shook, and I was filled with joy. Through the power of the Holy Ghost, I learned that God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, live and that They truly appeared to Joseph Smith. I made a commitment in my heart to repent and faithfully follow Jesus Christ for the rest of my life.
This spiritual experience changed my life completely! I decided to serve a mission out of gratitude to the Lord and to the Church member who rescued me. Following my mission, I was sealed in the temple to a wonderful girl, and we have been blessed with four children. Not coincidentally, this is the same girl who saved me by sending a postcard to that lonely apartment in Yokohama many years ago. I remain ever grateful for the mercy of the Lord and the help of this Church member, who invited me to once again come unto Christ.3

Pam Carpenter must be a storybook princess. She is pretty, petite, and always smiling. She reigns over a huge kingdom complete with castles, lakes, islands, ships, and spaceships. And she is entertained by flights of fantasy from Peter Pan, rides with Alice in Wonderland and her friends and Captain Nemo, and pirate cruises. Her special friends include Dumbo, Goofy, Donald Duck, Chip and Dale, Mickey Mouse, and hosts of other delightful storybook characters.
Unlike most other storybook princesses, Pam works very hard at being a princess. She always looks nice, is always on the alert for people who need her special help, and graciously welcomes thousands of visitors to her kingdom each day. Such royal responsibilities seem to belong quite naturally to Pam Carpenter, a young Latter-day Saint convert from Orlando, Florida. This pretty young lady possesses a delightful combination of charm, wit, and an encyclopedic knowledge of her kingdom, and she is a person who loves helping others.
No wonder she was chosen to be the official ambassador for Walt Disney World in Florida, chosen for her special responsibilities from the more than 13,000 employees at Disney World. Because many people try out for this position, applying for it involved a series of taxing tests and interviews.
“I really wanted this, but it is so much more than just a job,” said Pam. “During the year you are an ambassador, you have to devote most of your time to it. I always come in early and stay late, and travel much of the time.
“I knew I wanted the job and felt I had something to offer and so I tried out four different years. At first I thought that if I had to try out more than once then maybe I should forget it. But then I realized that was my false pride talking, not me. I finally realized that I did not get the position to begin with because I was not ready for it—I did not know enough about what I was doing.
“The first time I tried out I felt knew all there was to know about Disney. I walked into that room and there were five managers there for the first interview. I was so scared I could hardly talk to them—my voice kind of squeaked out, I gave them all the wrong answers, and I didn’t say anything I wanted to say. I am basically a shy person, and I knew I would have to work harder at being able to get up and speak to groups and being able to present my thoughts in a clear way. So I studied and learned all the facts I could about Disney World. I learned how many acres there are in Bay Lake, how many beams were laid beneath the contemporary hotel, and how many leaves are growing on the Swiss Family tree house. And I tried to develop my poise. I transferred into tour guiding, and this helped me in talking to people and becoming more outgoing.
“I prepared in every way that I could, and then I gave it my big try. Now I am so glad that I did not give up earlier because I have had so many great experiences and met so many wonderful people. After I became ambassador, I even joined Toastmasters International where I learned more about addressing large audiences,” she added.
During the early part of her reign, Pam investigated and joined the Church.
“I had dated a Mormon, and was interested in his great family life. His family members are wonderful together, and I enjoyed spending time with them. I could see they had the key to something important that I wanted in my life. The gospel helps me to appreciate all the people I meet, but it really showed me the importance of the family unit. I love my own family even more since I joined the Church.
“I really feel that I was introduced to the Church for a reason. Meeting other Mormons reading, and talking to the missionaries all felt so right to me. I agreed with everything they taught me. It seemed so natural for me to be baptized. To me it was a very simple process; it wasn’t a big ‘do I or don’t I’ situation. I was learning things I already believed in before I ever heard of the Church. I hadn’t picked up any bad habits to overcome, so I feel like a very natural Mormon.”
Being an example for the Church comes naturally for Pam because of her experience as an ambassador. She was told when she became an ambassador that she represented all 13,000 employees and the whole Disney organization. She was chosen because she was the kind of person that her employer felt good about representing their image.
“To me there is a very specific tie-in between my job and the Church. For Disney I represent the clean, wholesome, all-American look. This is almost more of an attitude than a fashion style. You can’t really look one way and feel the other way inside. Clean, wholesome goodness is something that will never go out of style. That is one of the reasons there are strict dress codes for all of the employees here. We do not even allow men in the park without their shirts and women have to be in modest clothing. I think all young Latter-day Saints ought to try and set this kind of an example. We should be on our toes and demonstrate by the way we look and act what the gospel can do for our lives. It just is not that much trouble to be well-groomed. Combing your hair, dressing cleanly and neatly, and being generally pleasant is the kind of example I think we all should set. What a powerful influence we would be on the world if all members of the Church would be this way. And as long as I am ambassador here, it is expected that I be this kind of good example. I was always taught at home that if something is worth doing, it is worth doing right, and that is one reason I got this position in the first place. It is also one of the reasons I am having such a good year as an ambassador. I am sure not planning on changing my outlook after I leave,” she said.
Of course, Pam’s duties include more than walking around Disney World in a clean uniform. She travels widely in the U.S. and Canada, appears on many television shows and radio interviews, gives VIP tours through her kingdom, and in the company of Mickey and some of her other fantastic friends appears at children’s hospitals and schools for handicapped children.
“We take the Magic Kingdom to people who can’t get out to see it on their own. This is the most exciting and fulfilling part of my ambassador duties. There is a special warmth associated with our hospital visits because we know that many of the people we visit will never come to Disney World in person. You should see the delighted children’s faces when Mickey and the other characters walk into a hospital ward. It puts a very bright spot in the normal daily hospital routine where everything is sort of gray and white. I’ve seen patients smile who the nurses say hadn’t smiled for months. One little girl had been in a coma, and when she came out of it, they could get no response from her. She just lay there. We walked in, and she said, ‘Mickey Mouse.’ Then she smiled. The nurses thought this was incredible because they hadn’t got any kind of a response out of her for months,” Pam said.
In addition to heads of state, royalty, and entertainment and movie stars, Pam was able to show President and Sister Kimball through the Magic Kingdom.
“At the time I had only been a member of the Church for a few months, and I felt honored. I enjoyed being in the presence of this warm, wonderful, great man. Meeting President and Sister Kimball was a tremendous privilege for me because I realize how few people, some who have been in the Church all their lives, ever get this opportunity.
“I’ve had other great experiences this year as well. I met Great Britain’s Queen Mother in Toronto and many other special people who have taught me important things about life. On one of our programs in Washington, D.C., there was a young singer who was blind. He told how when he was young his parents thought he should be sheltered and kept apart from the rest of the world, so they fenced him into the backyard. He didn’t go to school; he didn’t have any friends. He was totally shut away. Yet he had learned to sing, and here he was on this program with national political figures and entertainers. This young man gave us all goosebumps with his singing. He sang ‘The Impossible Dream’ and showed us that being blind doesn’t need to be such a bad thing after all,” she said.
Pam’s work at hospitals and children’s schools has given her a special interest in the handicapped. She is learning sign language and now regularly assists the visitors to Disney World who are hearing impaired.
“I’ve been able to sign for our arts festival and recently at the Ohio and Pennsylvania schools for the deaf. You can’t imagine how excited these kids are when they learn that I am from Disney World and that I can communicate with them in sign language,” Pam said.
Before she got her job, Pam never realized how demanding or fulfilling the life of a storybook princess could be, but to her the rewards are more than worth the effort, for her job and her joys are in bringing happiness and laughter to others.
“Life is wonderful for me. I am having such a great year.* I joined the Church and I like doing all of the Church things—being around Mormons, attending meetings, and especially going to family home evenings. I love helping others, and get a special joy out of helping handicapped people. These experiences make me humble and give me a great appreciation for the things that I have, including the great privilege it is to be able to help make other people happy,” Pam said.

As it turned out, I did marry. I was thirty-four, and my husband was thirty-seven. We wanted to begin our family quickly, but children did not come easily. We told Heavenly Father that if he would give us a child, we would dedicate that child to his service. When I was thirty-seven, our first child, a daughter, was born. We asked our Heavenly Father for another child and again promised that we would consecrate this child to his will. When I was almost forty, we had a son. We asked for more children but did not receive them.
Emily is now almost ten and Danny is seven, and we are trying to raise them in fulfillment of the promises that we have made. Like Latter-day Saint parents everywhere, we acknowledge that God has given us our children, and we are trying to help them learn to love and serve him.

President Michaelene P. Grassli, Primary General President: I’m proud to say that Primary children have this year read and discussed the Book of Mormon. Nine-year-old Matt in Wisconsin … said:
“When my father told our family that we would be moving from Denver to Wisconsin, my mother reminded us of Lehi’s family. Like them, I was leaving the only home I had known, all my friends, my school, and my ward. …
“My mother reminded us of how Nephi accepted this challenge—willingly—knowing that the Lord would ‘prepare a way from them that they may accomplish the thing which he commanded them.’
“I have learned that I can do without things, but not without my family. My brothers and sisters and I have tried to be more like Nephi than his complaining brothers. I am grateful for the things that the Book of Mormon teaches us.” (Sunday afternoon session)

The next part of the pattern is that "they met together oft both to pray and to hear the word of the Lord." You are so blessed as women and men to be able, here at BYU-Idaho, to have the opportunity to meet together every day in an environment that builds faith. Your professors and friends can speak freely about the gospel and testimony in your classrooms; you have religion classes where testimony is shared; your church meetings are close at hand. Not all people who attend a university have so supportive a situation. And someday, you, in all probability will not be in such a tightly-knit environment of people of your own faith. In some places that I have visited, just getting to church is very difficult and requires a great sacrifice of time and resources. A few years ago I met a woman in Texas who, with her husband, were living only on their Social Security check, and for her it took a lot of budgeting just to have the money each month to buy gas so that they could make the 80-mile round trip to church each week. And yet, they did.

Team sports for girls are often criticized because of the feelings of rivalry between teams and the harsh attitudes that sometimes develop. Mechelle recognizes this and has learned to cope with it: “Some girls do get ‘tough’—there is a lot of strain and tension. But our basketball team, which is all LDS, tries to keep its cool. Once there was an awful lot of tension in a game, and we all felt it. Afterwards, I said, ‘Hey, you guys, let’s go talk to them.’ Now we’re really good friends with that team.”

I am the only Church member in my family and when I joined the Church, I never thought of going on mission, but as I continued to exercise my faith, the Lord blessed me with immense blessings, and I experienced miracles, and this gave me the courage to decide to go on a mission. I have been called to serve in the India Bengaluru mission and I reported to the Philippines missionary training center on March 7. I am looking forward to a lifetime of rich and fruitful experiences that I can pass on to my descendants.

In 1999, I was serving as the Harare Zimbabwe District president. By that time, I had a good job. Naume and I bought land in Norton, which was about a 40-minute drive from Harare, and we built a nice three-bedroom home on that land. We were excited to begin our new life in Norton. Our plan was to eventually build a bigger home on the property.

When the mission president learned about our plan to move from Harare, he counseled us not to leave. I reasoned that it was too expensive for us to stay in Harare. We continued to pursue our plans to move. A visiting General Authority also counseled us to stay in Harare. He suggested that we rent our house in Norton while continuing to live in Harare. I again said that it was too expensive to live in Harare. If we remained there, we would not be able to build the larger house we had planned.

On the way home from our conversation with the General Authority, Naume asked me why I was being so stubborn. I responded that our leaders did not seem to understand our situation. She said that she would support me only if I was willing to follow our Church leaders’ counsel. We remained in Harare, and we were richly blessed because of that decision.

I’m grateful that Naume had faith to stay.

Our personal testimony usually begins with someone else’s testimony. My sister shared her testimony with me after her baptism. I felt a desire to hear more about what my sister had testified. Then missionaries came and testified about Jesus Christ, His gospel, and the restored Church. It was so powerful that it completely changed my life. In an instant, an atheist had become a believer who wished to follow the teachings and example of Christ. In the same way, our testimony can change someone else’s life. Because of our testimony, someone can come to know Christ whom they did not know before.

Brigham is an example of faith and courage. When he was three years old, he became very ill with leukemia, a cancer of the blood, and had to endure a painful treatment for two years. As he did, doctors discovered that he also had another disease, one that he cannot be cured of. It causes great pain, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, after doctors gave him a very painful treatment for his cancer, Brigham told them “thank you” through his tears.

I have just read Tom Osmond’s article in the April New Era, and I know from experience that every word is true! I have suffered from epilepsy since I was five years old. I had no confidence and was afraid to go anywhere on my own. My mother always had to go with me. I would not talk to anybody, and I thought everybody was laughing at me and talking about me—that is until I was baptized into the Church two years ago last May. Since that day I have gained confidence, and I am able to go out on my own. My epilepsy is milder too, and if everything goes well, it will be cleared up by summer. This is because of the love and faith I have found in Jesus Christ. My prayers have been answered, and I have a lot to thank the Lord for. I have learned that you can live a full life regardless of any disability, just as Tom Osmond said.
Carol SimsDerby, Derbyshire, England