Gospel Story Finder

Brother Ashton served a full-time mission in the Peru Lima South Mission. His decision to serve was influenced by a good friend who felt prompted to tell him he needed to serve a mission. As his friend expressed his feelings, Brian felt the Spirit’s confirmation. On his mission he was struggling with some significant health challenges when he was called to serve as president of a large branch. During this time, he prayed fervently and continually to Heavenly Father for help. “I learned to rely on Him, and He came through for me,” he said. “Learning to trust Him has made all the difference.”

Our cleanup person at school wanted to give us a treat for being nice. She put little bags of candies in our mailboxes (where we put our things to take home). Our teacher, Mrs. Richardson, showed us how to reach all the way to the back to make sure that we have all of our papers and things.
When Emily reached all the way back, she couldn’t find any candy, and she was sad. She told everyone that she didn’t have any candy, but no one else shared. I said, “I’ll give you my candy.”
She said, “Thank you.”
I felt good inside because I did the right thing. Mrs. Richardson told my mom what I did, because she thought it was really nice. My mom was very happy to know that I am trying to be like Jesus at school.

I was born in Brazil with rickets—a disease characterized by distorted bones. At 19 I weighed 50 kilos (111 lbs) and was 1.64 meters tall. As a result, I was not accepted into the military, so I began looking for ways to improve my physical condition. I began a series of exercises and ate a balanced diet.
During this time, I met the missionaries. I became acquainted with the Church and learned about the commandments, including the Word of Wisdom. It was just what I needed. It gave me guidelines of foods to eat and a list of impure items to avoid, namely tobacco and strong drinks. By reading the Doctrine and Covenants, I learned about the need for rest and sleep (see D&C 88:124).
I gained strength and weighed 78 kilos (172 lbs). I became a champion weight lifter. I also did judo and swam. Today at age 73 I am a marathon runner and have finished 30 marathons. In 2005 and 2006, I was second in my age class in Brazil. I have excellent health, and I am very happy.
I am grateful to our Heavenly Father for giving us laws that, if obeyed, will bring us blessings of health.
Antonio Olívio de Oliveira, São Paulo, Brazil

I grew up in a comfortable environment in Logan, Utah. I had no childhood worries about food or shelter or education. But perhaps because life was easy, I needed something to hold on to that would anchor me.
For me that anchor was the priesthood of God. I was in an unusual situation when I was growing up. My dad was called to be the bishop when I was a year old, and he was my bishop for 19 years. His fatherly and spiritual guidance was a tremendous help to me.
I think that is mostly why I looked forward to receiving the Aaronic Priesthood on my 12th birthday. I remember the special day I felt my father’s hands on my head as he ordained me. After that, I advanced through the offices of the Aaronic Priesthood and received callings I enjoyed very much.
Passing the sacrament was very special to me. You could see people commit themselves to obey the Lord and keep His commandments as they partook of the emblems of His body and blood.
As time progressed, I graduated from high school, and then after a year in college, I was called on a mission. I enjoyed every minute of it and loved my companions. One in particular was a strength to me. I learned much from him as we fulfilled our responsibilities.
Because the country was at war, when I returned from my mission I joined the United States Marine Corps. When the war was over, I returned to college, married, and started a family. Successive professional moves took me to many places across the United States, where I learned much as I served in many priesthood callings. I finally landed in Boston, Massachusetts, where I served as a stake president. It was from there that I was called to be an assistant to the Twelve and then, after 17 months, to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
What have I learned as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve?
I’ve learned that there is a guide, an anchor, and a protection in the priesthood.
The priesthood has always existed. Before Adam came to earth, he had the priesthood. As Adam’s posterity scattered with the priesthood, it became necessary to organize how the priesthood was administered. The Lord did that by calling Abraham to preside over his family of priesthood holders. This organization continued under Isaac and Jacob, whose name was later changed to Israel.
Centuries later, the children of Israel found themselves in captivity. The Lord sent Moses to deliver them, but when he did, they proved themselves not ready as a people for the Melchizedek Priesthood. So they were left with the Aaronic Priesthood until the time of the Savior.
I find it very interesting what the Savior did first as He began His ministry. He organized the Melchizedek Priesthood. He called twelve Apostles and taught them the laws and order of the priesthood. He called Peter to be the chief Apostle, establishing a line of authority in His Church. In that day and this, it is Jesus Christ who selects His chief Apostle to preside over the Church, and it is the Savior who directs him in his priesthood duties.
So the priesthood has a direct line from our Lord and Savior through the chief Apostle to the other Apostles and on to the other priesthood holders in the Church. Keys of authority are given to the Apostles, and as long as those keys are on the earth, we will be guided by the Lord Himself. This divine direction protects us and assures us that the Church will not vary from the truth. It will remain consistent because it is not directed by any earthly being. It is directed by the Lord.
The greatest advice I have for you young men is to study the doctrines of the priesthood, understand the power you have in exercising your priesthood, and learn how it can bless your lives and the lives of others.
I promise if you’ll learn the doctrines of the priesthood and fulfill your priesthood duties, the priesthood will be a sure anchor that will keep you spiritually safe and bring you great joy. Be a true priesthood quorum. Reach out to your friends and bring them into your quorum. Create a brotherhood in your quorum that will be a permanent foundation for your lives.

A story is told of the son of King Louis the Sixteenth of France. As a young man, he was kidnapped by evil men when they dethroned the king. For six months, he was exposed to every evil thing that life had to offer, yet he never buckled under the pressure. This puzzled his captors, and they asked him why he had such great moral strength. His reply was simple: “I cannot do what you ask, for I was born to be a king.”*

Some years later in 1940 as a ward deacons quorum president, I received a letter from the Presiding Bishopric of the Church, signed by LeGrand Richards, Marvin O. Ashton, and Joseph L. Wirthlin. This letter said in part, “The Presiding Bishopric of the Church extends to the Presidency of the Taylorsville Ward deacons quorum congratulations and best wishes on achieving more than 90% attendance in priesthood and sacrament meeting for the year 1939.” Can you imagine, brethren, the impact of this letter on the Aaronic Priesthood bearers of our rural ward and especially the three thirteen-year-old deacons who composed the quorum presidency? From that moment on, these men of the Presiding Bishopric became my instant heroes.

In September 1948, two friends told 16-year-old Jirí about hearing a lecture given by Mormon missionaries. He went with them to the next meeting. “The missionaries were young, friendly, and full of optimism,” he says. “I felt an immediate desire to know more about the Church. Reassured by the lectures I heard at the meeting, I decided to study diligently in my mind and heart the doctrines they were preaching.”

Seven months later, early on the morning of his 17th birthday, Sunday, 24 April 1949, Jirí and his two friends—along with four missionaries and two local members—took a streetcar to the end of the line in Lochotín and then walked for 45 minutes to Kamenicky Pond.

“It was several degrees below freezing,” he remembers, “and the grass and trees were covered with frost. We walked bravely to the pond, surrounded by magnificent nature, to enter into covenants with the Lord.” They were baptized, then confirmed at the waters’ edge. “It was for all of us one of the most beautiful moments in our lives.”

The memory of that particular summer will always stand out in my mind. It was about a week before school let out when my dad announced that I would be spending the next three months with my grandpa in the mountains, tending sheep.
At first I had been really excited about the idea. That was until I told my best friend about it.
“Awful!” She had said. “How boring. Why do you want to do a dumb thing like that?”
To hide my embarrassment, I quickly explained that I really didn’t want to do it, but that I had to because my parents were worried about Grandpa being in the mountains alone all summer. He’d had a mild heart attack earlier that spring, and the doctor had disapproved of him going. But he insisted that he’d gone every summer since he was a boy and that this summer wasn’t going to be any different.
So, because I was young and strong and could do most of the work, I was to help him. My parents also reasoned that it would be a good experience for me and give me an opportunity to get to know Grandpa better.
The first month of that summer seemed endless, and I became more depressed and lonely by the day. Grandpa didn’t help matters much. He was a quiet man, never wasting many words, and I wondered how I’d ever “get to know him better.”
One night after supper we were sitting near the campfire. It was quiet except for the occasional bleating of sheep in the distance. The sky was particularly clear that night, and I remember leaning my head back to study the stars. They winked back at me, and I tried to imagine the many secrets they held. Maybe someday I’ll be an astronaut, I thought to myself, and uncover some of those secrets. Anyway, whatever I become, I won’t be a dumb old sheepherder!
“Grandpa,” I said finally, “haven’t you ever wanted to do something exciting?”
He chuckled. “Like what?” he asked.
I shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”
“You aren’t enjoying yourself much these days, are you?”
“Well, it’s kind of boring.”
“And maybe a little lonely?” he asked, smiling at me.
“Yes, that, too,” I admitted. “How can you stand this, year after year, Grandpa?”
He poked at the fire with a long stick. “For me it has never been a question of standing it. I’m a sheepman. This is just part of what I do.”
It’s hopeless, I decided. I’ll never understand him.
The silence between us lengthened until he rose and walked over to the small trailer where we slept. A few minutes later he returned with a worn Bible in his hands. I had seen him read from it every night, so that didn’t surprise me. It did surprise me when he started to speak.
“When I was young, I felt a lot like you do right now. I wanted to do something really important in my life.
“My father, your great-grandfather, died when I was about your age. This old Bible was his. It wasn’t until after he was gone that I opened it and for the first time noticed certain scriptures he’d underlined. One in particular made me do some hard thinking. I thought you might like to read it.”
He handed the old Bible to me. It was opened to the second chapter of Luke. I recognized it immediately as the Christmas story. In the light from the fire I could see that the pages were yellowed and wrinkled from years of use. My eyes went to the underlined verses, and I read: “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. …”
As I read on, the familiar words began to take on new meaning. At last I closed the book and carefully handed it back to my grandpa.
He fingered it lovingly. “My father was a sheepman, and his father before him,” he said. “I’m proud to have followed in their footsteps.”
Grandpa rose then and left me. I sat alone for a long time, gazing up at the sky. Those were the same stars that had shone that night so long ago, along with that one very special star.
The rest of that summer passed swiftly, and before I knew it, I was back in school. My friends teased me a lot about being a sheepherder, but I didn’t let it bother me. I knew something they’d probably never know.

Emily hurried into the Primary room with the other kids. She loved going to Primary! Ever since Mom was baptized a few weeks ago, Emily loved learning all she could about their new church.

One of the girls in her class waved. “Want to sit by me?” she asked.

“Sure,” Emily said. She smiled and sat down by her new friend. They listened to the piano music.

When it was singing time, Sister Seitz stood up. Emily scooted to the front of her chair. Singing time was her favorite.

“Good morning!” Sister Seitz said. “Today we are going to learn more about the plan of salvation.”

Emily scrunched her eyebrows. The plan of what? She didn’t think she’d ever heard of that before.

“Every one of you lived with Heavenly Father and Jesus in heaven before coming to earth,” Sister Seitz said. “And you were so happy to come here to earth!”

Emily felt a jump of excitement inside her chest. I used to live in heaven before I was born? she thought. And I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus?

Everyone started singing a song she didn’t know. The words were so beautiful!

“I lived in heaven a long time ago, it is true; Lived there and loved there with people I know. So did you.”

Emily had never heard anything about this before. She paid close attention to every word they sang.

“Heavenly Father loves you so much,” Sister Seitz said after the song. “That’s why He created His plan for you. And guess what? You wanted to follow His plan! That’s why you’re here on earth today.”

They sang another song. This one taught about following God’s plan. Emily’s excitement grew bigger and bigger. I chose to follow Heavenly Father’s plan! she thought. That made her so happy!

Next they sang “I Am a Child of God.” It was all about coming to earth and being born into a family. Emily felt warm and peaceful as she thought about her family.

After each song, Sister Seitz taught something new. Emily learned that heaven has three kingdoms and that the highest one is called the celestial kingdom.

After they sang the last song, Emily didn’t want to stop. “Is there more to the story?” she asked.

Sister Seitz pointed at a picture of the sun on the board. It was above some pictures of the moon and stars. The sun represented the celestial kingdom.

“That’s where things keep going and growing,” Sister Seitz said. “That’s where our Heavenly Parents want us to be.”

Emily could hardly stop smiling. I was alive before I came here, she thought again. She couldn’t stop thinking how amazing that sounded. And I can live with Jesus again!

After Primary, she ran up to Sister Seitz.

“Are we going to keep learning about the plan of salvation next week?” she asked.

“We sure can. Did you like it?”

“Yes! I don’t know why, but I felt in my heart that I did choose God’s plan before I came to earth. And I know that Heavenly Father really does love me!”

Sister Seitz gave Emily a huge smile. Her eyes were a little bit shiny.

“Yes, you did,” Sister Seitz said. “And yes, He does love you.”

The plan of salvation is also called the plan of happiness.

Learn more about it on page 24!

Emily bounced on her toes a little. “You know what?” she asked. “I’m going to live my life the best I can. I want to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus and my family in the celestial kingdom!”

Sister Seitz bent down and looked into Emily’s eyes. “Me too,” she said.

Times were difficult in 1931, and everyone in eleven-year-old Evard’s family had to work hard and help each other so that they could have the things they needed. Even Evard’s mother helped earn money by cleaning people’s homes.
Evard loved his parents and his five brothers and one sister. Even though they didn’t have very much, he was happy. One day, he looked at himself and realized that his overalls were ragged and worn. He knew that he would soon need a new pair. He also knew that his parents had very little money, so he didn’t want to ask them for some new overalls.
His parents had taught him that there was One to whom he could always turn for help, no matter what, so he knelt by his bed and prayed. He told Heavenly Father about his need for a pair of overalls and asked for His help. Evard had great faith and knew that somehow his prayer would be answered.
The next day, his mother went to clean a woman’s house. The woman had been cleaning out her closets and had found three pairs of nice overalls that her children had outgrown. She asked Evard’s mother if someone in her family could use them. Mother gladly took the overalls home.
Evard was excited when she showed him the overalls. He quickly tried them on. Each pair was a perfect fit! He knew that Heavenly Father loved him and had answered his prayer.

I was born in Australia and lived in the community of Byron Bay, located on the eastern seacoast. I remember the great ships that used to sail up the coast of Australia. Very often they would come into port at Byron Bay. During storms, though, the ships would have to sail out to sea again to avoid getting smashed against the rocky beaches or wooden piers.
When I was about seven or eight years old, I had an experience that had a tremendous impact on me. My father came rushing into the house very late one night. Outside, there was a blinding rainstorm, and a very large ship was struggling to get out to the open sea. Its crew members had been celebrating in town and had delayed returning to the ship to prepare it properly for sailing. As a result, it didn’t have enough steam to sail out of port and away from danger.
My parents bundled my brother, sister, and me up in our oilskin coats, and we went down to the harbor to watch the crew frantically trying to sail to safety. The sea was rough. The waves were high. Hundreds of townspeople awakened from their sleep and gathered on the shore to watch and pray that the ship would get away.
I remember that there were many lights on the ship as it tossed on the waves. We knew that dozens of crew members were in the hold, shoveling coal into the engine’s furnaces, trying to get up enough steam to sail to safety. It was an awesome and frightening sight to a little boy.
Suddenly a cheer burst from the crowd. The ship was clear of the pier, and we watched as her bow turned seaward. It looked as though she would make it to the open sea. She went for a short distance. Then, because she didn’t have sufficient steam, she lost the struggle. The waves beat too heavily against her, and that great ship swung around, raced straight up onto the beach, and crashed against the rocks. She never sailed again.
I’ve never forgotten that night. It’s as vivid in my memory today as it was when it happened so many years ago. I believe that I am a General Authority today because of the lesson I learned that night—to prepare myself so that I can head in the proper direction with sufficient strength.
When storms come and waves beat against us, we’ll be dashed against the rocks if we don’t have sufficient faith in the Lord, in the gospel, and in our own abilities. We need to learn the gospel and to learn to love the Lord. Then we will have all the steam we need, and we will know the right course to sail in this life.

Soon after arriving home from World War II, I had “promises to keep” (Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”)—meaning going on a mission now. I grew tired of waiting for the bishop. And in some early ark-steadying, I went to the bishop’s home and said I had saved the money and wanted to go, so let’s “get this show on the road.” The good bishop hesitated and then said he’d been meaning to ask me about going.

Years later I would learn from that bishop’s devoted ward clerk that the bishop had felt I needed a little more time with my family after having been away so far and for a tenth of my life. Hearing this, I chastised myself for having been too judgmental. (See Bruce C. Hafen, A Disciple’s Life: The Biography of Neal A. Maxwell [2002], 129–30.)

The sixth month wore on with no baptisms in sight. The tenth of the month passed, and they were without anyone who would be ready.

“Sister Johnson invited us over for dinner tomorrow night,” Elder Anderson announced as they were heading home one evening after a floundering discussion.

“I hope you told her no,” Scott said grimly.

“Why?”

“It’d be a waste of time. A 60-year-old widow isn’t likely to have any referrals.”

“It’d be nice to have a home-cooked meal. Besides she doesn’t have many people visit her.”

“Tell the home teachers. It’s not our concern.”

“What is our concern?” his companion asked with an edge of tension in his voice.

“To find somebody to baptize this month.”

“We’re already leading the mission in consecutive baptisms. What do you want, another record to add to your string?”

“Why shouldn’t we succeed? We can do it if we work.”

“Okay, maybe we can. But there’s one thing that bothers me about you.”

“What’s that?” Scott asked defensively.

“You’re doing all this for your own glory—so you can be zone leader.”

They walked into their apartment and got ready for bed, hardly speaking to each other.

Just before prayers, Scott gave in. “Okay, I was wrong. We’ll have supper with Sister Johnson tomorrow night.”

Much to their surprise, Sister Johnson had an elderly lady with her who wanted to be taught so she could be baptized.

And she was before the end of the month.

These youth and others from the Payson 20th Ward in the Payson Utah Mount Nebo Stake started indexing after their bishop challenged them to index 250 names each to qualify to go on a trip. He also extended the challenge to the leaders as well as the youth.
“We challenged them that we leaders could index more names than they could,” says Bishop Steven Pace. “The losers had to serve the winners dinner … and the leaders ended up serving the youth dinner.”
Four months after the challenge was issued, the youth had far surpassed the original goal of 250 names per person and had indexed more than 50,000 names altogether. The leaders realized the goal was too low and upped the challenge to 1,000 names, and they made the challenge not only between the leaders and youth, but also between the different quorums and classes.
“The priests quorum needs to pick it up,” says Kendall Little, 17, who has indexed more names than any of the other teens. “We don’t want to be one of the bottom two classes, because then we have to do dishes on the trip.”
The youth were originally motivated by the competition, but now they say they do indexing because it’s fun, and they know they are helping those who lived before.
“I like to think about the people we are doing this for and how much they must appreciate it,” says Miranda Hyer, 14. “When I first started indexing, I thought they were just old people who lived a long time ago, but they’re not that different from us.”
One of the big differences between the times of the people in the records and today is the writing style used. The youth said the only hard thing about indexing is trying to figure out how the names are spelled when the writing is hard to read.
“Some of the cursive writing is like hieroglyphics,” says Jason Trauntvein, 12. “My mom would have to come and help me.”
Being able to distinguish names that were difficult to read taught the youth that they were doing the work of the Lord and that He was helping them.
Amanda says there were times when she would think she knew what a name was while she was indexing and then just have a feeling that it was something else. “Then I’d look at it again and I’d see that it clearly said the name I was feeling,” she says. “Those were really good experiences.”
Having experiences helping those who lived in the past has also helped these youth strengthen their testimonies and live in the world today.
“Doing indexing helped show me the importance of temple work,” says Kendall. “I also know that God is willing to help us and give us the answers if we’ll just listen to Him.”
The willingness to provide this service is something that has changed them. And it’s also given them something worthwhile to do during their free time.
One time when Trevor had some extra time after taking a biology test in a class, he got on a computer and started indexing. Other students were on the computers playing games although the teacher told them not to. “The kids who were playing games got in trouble,” Trevor says, “but the teacher just told me to finish up my batch.”
The youth say being able to index names has been a satisfying endeavor, and counting the names they have indexed is way better than any score they could get on a computer or video game.
All of those names the youth indexed are real people who lived before, so there are thousands of Heavenly Father’s children being affected by their efforts with indexing, people Kendall says he hopes to meet one day.
“If you think about it, you’re kind of making lots of friends that you’re going to go meet eventually when you die,” he says. “Then they’ll all come and say, ‘Thanks for doing my name,’ because without you their work may have never been done.”
Receiving so many blessings has taught these youth and their leaders something many Church members have discovered: indexing is easy, fun, rewarding, and engrossing.

Kailey, ever the optimist, has been learning braille, a language that allows her to read by feeling raised dots with her fingertips. “Braille is going to be part of my life,” she says. “So I decided to start learning now. That way, I’ll have a head start.”
But to communicate in Braille, Kailey needed expensive equipment, including a special computer.
Though many people in the community—such as those at her father’s work as well as in the ward—would have gladly paid for the equipment, Kailey decided she could raise money for the equipment herself by recycling aluminum cans. The problem: it would take a lot of cans. When the ward deacons quorum president, Carter N., learned about her goal and dilemma, he came to the rescue and brought others with him.
“My uncle had a metal shed,” Carter says. “He said I could tear it down, recycle the metal, and make some money to help Kailey, so I did that with his help. But I kept thinking about her idea to recycle cans. ‘Couldn’t we collect enough cans to help pay for her equipment?’”
The next Sunday at bishopric youth committee (BYC) meeting, Carter shared his feelings and presented a plan. “The youth and the leaders talked it through,” Carter says, “and we all said, ‘We can do it’” to help Kailey collect cans. “We’ve been gathering cans ever since.”
Gathering may be an understatement.
“The BYC took the idea and ran with it,” says Mark D. Holmes, Kailey and Carter’s bishop. “The youth made plans, put up posters, and did all the work. The rest of the ward joined in too. Pretty soon people who weren’t members of the Church saw us out gathering cans and were eager to get involved.” Many businesses invited the youth to put up posters and set out boxes labeled “Kans for Kailey.”
Although the original goal was just to recycle as much as possible, during the next few months, more than 14,000 aluminum cans were collected by the youth, the ward, and the community. “The bishop let us store them in his shop building,” Carter explains. “We completely filled that, plus a couple of horse trailers.” After the cans were crushed to save space, they still filled a storage shed that’s 12 feet wide, 12 feet deep, and 8 feet tall.
“At first I didn’t think we could get that many cans,” says Michael P., 13. “But when people remembered they were doing it for Kailey, they all seemed to have more desire to help.”
“We were doing for her something she couldn’t do entirely for herself,” says Kinsley K., 12. “In a small way, we were following the example of the Savior.”
The money collected from the recycling provided more than enough money to purchase the Braille equipment. “I really like the equipment,” Kailey says. “I use it a lot.”
What’s more, the youth, the ward, and the community all gained a vision of what they could do when they worked together.

While we lived in South America, our eldest son reached the age to fill a mission. He was the first missionary to leave our little branch composed mainly of converts. The closing prayer at his farewell was offered by one of the new converts. He expressed this thought: “Heavenly Father, we have seen missionaries come. They have blessed our lives. Now we see that we must send missionaries. Help us to rear our sons to serve.”
That prayer of faith was answered. When that man’s son was nineteen, he was called to go to Italy. I received this note about him from the president of the branch where he labored.
“We have known Elder LaBuonora since he arrived six months ago. … In the short time he has been here he has baptized nine people.
“Because you knew him before, I share a little experience. We were visiting one of our sick members in the hospital. … In the ward of about twenty people, there was a three-year-old boy whose mother had abandoned him when he was born. He has had no one to love him. The child was playing in his crib and needed his nose wiped. So Elder LaBuonora wiped his nose with the tenderness of a real father, held him in his arms for a minute, kissed him, and put him gently back in bed. The expression on the child’s face was a mixture of surprise and security. We believe this young man is the greatest missionary we have seen. What a blessing he is to our mission and branch.”
It is a further evidence of faith to note that President LaBuonora, the father who prayed that they could rear their sons to serve, has since sent his second son into the mission field.

As soon as Sister McKee was well, we started sharing the presentation with some of the people we were teaching as a supplement to the discussions. Our most spiritual experience was with the Aranda family. The Arandas wouldn’t commit to baptism even though they were praying and reading and asking questions. We decided to make a final effort. We would share our presentation about the Savior with them.
So began one of the most unforgettable experiences of my mission. As we gave the presentation, Sister McKee and I could hardly read our parts because our emotion was so great. When it was over, no one dared to break the silence and interrupt the peace that had filled the room. Brother Aranda had his head down. When he finally spoke, his eyes were filled with tears. “I don’t know what it is that I am feeling here”—he pointed to his chest—“but it is so strong, so wonderful, that I can’t express it.”
When we returned a few days later, the Arandas had decided to be baptized.

A third experience in the branch came during a discussion the members were having in Sunday School concerning when you should give to those who ask you for aid. One of the members, who had come with his wife from Africa to further his education, raised his hand and told us of the following experience. As he had been walking home in the neighborhood, he had been approached by a man who put a pistol to his chest and demanded all his money. Our member took the money from his pockets and handed it over to the man and then said, “If you need the money that badly, I have more.” He opened his briefcase and took out additional money, which he gave to the robber, saying, “Understand, you are not taking this from me; I am giving it to you in the name of the Lord because you need it.” He said the robber looked at him in amazement, put the pistol in his belt, and said, “Where do you live? I’m going to walk you home because you’re too good a man to be on these streets, and you are not safe here.”
As they started to walk to the member’s apartment, suddenly they were surrounded by police cars because a woman had seen the holdup from her apartment window and had called the police. The police arrested the robber and took him away. Having been the victim, this member was asked to be a witness later at the trial of the robber. At the trial, he testified that although the robber had demanded his money, he had told him that he gave the money to him in the name of the Lord and that if the robber needed it that badly, he wanted him to have it.
Since then, when I hear the Savior’s words, “Him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also,” my mind goes back not only to the Holy Land but also to the hard streets in that eastern city.

It took a lot of time and sincere effort to break bad habits. Eventually I was judged by my priesthood leader as worthy to serve a mission. The best feeling in the world was to go to the temple and know I am clean. The Spirit I wanted to feel during all those teenage years came flooding into my heart and life. I am so thankful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The adversary still works on me, trying to get me to backslide. But I have learned to put on the armor of God every day. I know Jesus Christ loves me, and I love Him.

The Lord directs our lives so that we can achieve our fullest potential. In the midst of these great experiences and spiritual growth, we received a very good lesson in humility.

That night we had another concert, and Dr. Woodward looked a little tired. As we began the first number, perspiration began to bead on his brow, then roll down the sides of his face. He kept directing but his hands soon started to waver and the lines in his face grew taut. The entire choir was straining, ready at any moment to leap forward and catch him if he fell.

Finally, Sister Woodward got him to sit down and drink some water and Gordon Johnston, our assistant conductor, directed the next number. Then Dr. Woodward got up again and directed two more numbers before intermission when they carried him out. (Dr. Woodward later joked, “It was a funny feeling. I couldn’t really hear, but all I could think of was, the show must go on!”)

Many prayers were offered during that intermission, and then we returned to finish the concert. After the reception, as we were going to our rooms, we saw an ambulance take Dr. Woodward to the hospital, where he would remain for the next two days. Here, at the end of our tour, as we were on the eve of entering Jerusalem, our conductor and spiritual guide was gone from us. The challenge was now to go forward and apply all the principles we had been taught, to continue our mission to sing to the Jewish people and help them feel the spirit of the gospel.