Gospel Story Finder

Helping others along their covenant path may take the form of an unconventional act of service. As an example, during my current assignment in the Philippines, I learned of the Agamata family. They were baptized in 2023, and then they eagerly set a date to be sealed as a family in the nearby Urdaneta Philippines Temple. However, just before the family’s appointment, several typhoons struck the region. Brother Agamata, a rice farmer, was unable to plant his crops during the harsh storms. When the tempests finally passed, he needed to quickly plant the rice while the ground was soaked with water—ideal conditions for planting. Sadly, the temple trip would have to be postponed.

Two disciples, Elder and Sister Cauilan, along with three young service missionaries, heard of the Agamata family’s struggle and offered help despite having no farming experience. Working under the blistering sun, they helped plant the seedlings, allowing the Agamatas to complete their task and attend their temple sealing as scheduled. Elder Cauilan observed that “[the Agamatas’] countenances glowed as we saw them dressed in white in the house of the Lord. The joy we felt ministering to the one is a joy beyond compare!”

The Agamatas now enjoy the rich blessings of being sealed as an eternal family because a few fellow disciples who were filled with charity—a sign of their discipleship—determined to help their brothers and sisters forward along their covenant path.

I learned another lesson from my mother. As a girl she had diphtheria and nearly died. Later she had spinal meningitis. Her father died young, and so my mother and her brothers helped support their mother.
All her life, she felt the effects of the trials of illness. In her last 10 years of life, she required multiple operations. But through it all, she proved faithful to the Lord, even when bedridden. The only picture on her bedroom wall was of the Savior. Her last words to me on her deathbed were these: “Hal, you sound as if you are getting a cold. You ought to take care of yourself.”
At her funeral the last speaker was Elder Spencer W. Kimball. After saying something of her trials and her faithfulness, he said essentially this: “Some of you may wonder why Mildred had to suffer so much and so long. I will tell you why. It was because the Lord wanted to polish her a little more.”

Although most of the Saints had left Nauvoo by summertime, some still remained because of poverty or sickness. This made anti-Mormons very angry. On September 10, 1846, about eight hundred men with six cannons began to fire on the Saints still in Nauvoo. The attack continued for several days until an agreement was reached that every Mormon would leave except five men and their families, who would stay to sell the remaining property.

As I recall, Howard Washington Thurman once told a story about his mother, who lived in a community in which this White woman didn’t like the fact that she had a Black neighbor. And she would be mean to Mrs. Thurman. But Mrs. Thurman kept on going to church, rearing her children, being kind to everybody.

One day, [Howard’s] mother told him to get ready to go with her next door to see this lady who was ill. [Mrs. Thurman] cooked a bowl of soup, and they went over to the house. The lady said to her, “Oh, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

And Mrs. Thurman said, “No, but the love of Jesus told me I had to do it.”

And then she said, “Howard, go back over to the house and get those roses I left on the table.”

He came back with these beautiful red roses. And the sick woman said, “Oh my. What florist did you buy those roses from?”

And Mrs. Thurman said: “I didn’t buy those roses from any florist. When you were unkind to me, you would throw the chicken manure from your chicken coop over into my yard. But you didn’t know that while you were throwing the chicken manure, God was preparing the soil for me to grow my roses.”

So that’s what we’ve got to do in the midst of evil. Take the manure but have the faith in God to use it to grow a garden of roses.

That’s what we have to do. Be kind, do the right thing, and love and respect all people. They are God’s opportunity for you to touch their messy situations and leave them better than they were before.

Another side benefit of choir was that it became a way to include some young people who either were having trouble with their church activity or were not members but just wanted to spend time with their Mormon friends. One particularly good example is Kevin Wood, now Elder Wood serving in Belgium on a mission. “I had slipped away slowly from church. Many other things in my life went downhill. I had fallen into the pit very gradually, and so when I got to the bottom, I didn’t even realize how deep and dark it really was until after I had gotten back out.”
Cathy Baradine had been working away from home at a summer camp. When she returned home, she was surprised when she was told that Kevin wasn’t attending church anymore. The ward had just started the youth choir. She didn’t hesitate. She called Kevin and told him she was coming to pick him up in half an hour for choir practice.
Kevin says he was bewildered enough to say yes. He now says that at the time he hated singing, especially songs with gospel themes. But he went. “I don’t remember whether the time passed quickly, or how I felt during the practice,” said Kevin. “It was as we were walking out that I remarked how I felt so much lighter. I may have even had a smile on my face. All my problems and concerns, although they hadn’t disappeared, had left my mind for a moment.” Kevin returned to church and choir practice the next Sunday and the next and the next.

Several years ago, I was following a conversation on social media between two of my former mission companions. These were men whom I loved and respected.
They were discussing questions they had about the Church and its doctrine. It soon became clear that they both had left the Church. It shocked and disturbed me. I had never heard of some of the things they were discussing. I felt like I had to know if these things had any merit. So I began looking into the arguments of those who had concerns about the Church.
Some of the things I read over the next two years led me to question everything about the Church. Some who go through this feel sad. They grieve for the loss of their faith. I became angry. I felt that the Church had deceived me. I wasn’t sure what was real or whom I could trust.
I had a difficult time going to church. I asked to be released from my calling. My relationship with my wife, Cheri, and my family was strained. I continued to go to church, but it was really just for show and to try and keep my family together. Life was a mess. I couldn’t feel the Spirit and questioned whether or not I had ever really felt the Holy Ghost.
When my oldest child, Kayson, was leaving on his mission, I cast a gloomy cloud over what should have been a joyous occasion. After two years, most of my family knew what I was going through. When they all went to the temple with Kayson for his first time, I was not there.
Through all of it, I felt so alone.
One day my brothers got together to talk to me about what I was going through. I don’t really remember what they said, but I knew it was done out of love. As we talked, I started to realize what I was missing. It became the catalyst for change. It should have been me to ordain Kayson an elder. It should have been me to escort him through the temple. It should have been me to give him a father’s blessing before he left. Those most important events in his life were meant for me to be there, not someone else. I remember asking myself, “What am I doing?”
Shortly after, a good friend felt inspired to introduce me to a member of his stake presidency. This kind man listened intently to my story and seemed to know what I was going to say before I said it. We talked for hours. My story, my questions, the logic I had been exposed to were so similar to what others had shared with him. I began to realize that there were reasonable answers for many of my concerns and that many of my questions, while sincere, had been planted by people intent on damaging faith.
Were all my questions and concerns immediately resolved? No, of course not. But my heart was softened enough to realize a great truth: questions are good, but some questions are more important than others.1 Was losing my family and standing before God worth a few unanswered questions? When I focused first on the questions that were most important and put God back in first place in my heart, I began to find answers that reassured me that I was getting back on the right path.
My stake president and bishop also reached out to me. They were a great help to me and Cheri during some dark times. They never gave up. They and my family on both sides of the veil were instrumental in helping me. I know that Heavenly Father knows and loves us. He puts people in our path when we need them. We just need to be willing to accept their help.
I know there are others out there who may be going through something similar. It may be you or someone you know.
I know that the Savior established His Church with the authority to provide the ordinances and covenants we need to return to Him. Satan is working overtime to discredit the Lord’s Church using any means possible. Raising questions and creating doubts is easy. Falling into his traps can happen to anyone. Relying on the information and answers that others provide can be far easier than doing the work of discovering truth for ourselves “by study and also by faith” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:118; emphasis added). But ultimately, that’s what God requires.
If you are struggling with questions or doubts about the Church or your faith, you won’t find truth by reading blogs or listening to podcasts from those who disagree with the Church or have left it. But you also probably won’t be satisfied with shallow answers, and you might not like the suggestion to “put your questions on the shelf.”
I learned that we cannot always live on borrowed light, but instead we must turn to God who is the source of all light and truth (see Doctrine and Covenants 93:26). We must study it out in our own minds, but we must also ask God if what we are thinking is right (see Doctrine and Covenants 9:8). We must learn for ourselves, as Joseph Smith did (see Joseph Smith—History 1:20), and be patient in our searching (see Alma 32:41). But learning by faith means we must prove the truth by living it (see John 7:17; 1 Thessalonians 5:21).
When I was studying things antagonistic to the Church, I felt like I was literally in the mists of darkness (see 1 Nephi 8:23–24; 12:17). When I grabbed hold of God’s word and took that first step toward Him, that was all He needed to send His Spirit to touch my heart.
A few weeks after Kayson left on his mission, my stake president visited me. I caught him up on what had happened during those weeks after my brothers had talked with me. I said I would like to get a new temple recommend. He asked if I could answer the recommend questions properly. I confessed, “President, I don’t think I can say I know that the Church is true yet, but I sure hope with all my heart that it is. And I am going to live my life in accordance with that hope. Is that enough?”
He paused for a moment then said, “Travis, that will always be enough.”
There are some things I’m still waiting to understand, but some things have become very clear to me. I know that Heavenly Father loves me. I know that we might wander and struggle for a time. But I know that through Christ, His Atonement, and the hope it brings, it is possible to return to the path that leads back to Him.
The author lives in Utah, USA.

Finally, the culmination of forty years of effort and sacrifice climaxed when President Woodruff entered the temple the morning of 6 April 1893. “The Temple Block gates opened at 8:30, and the street was packed long before that hour,” one priesthood leader noted. Two hours were required “to admit, one by one, the 2200 people” into the large upper assembly hall of the temple.

Thomas Griggs, a member of the Tabernacle Choir, arrived at the south gate at 8:20, but the line was so long that “it was 9:55 a.m. when I was 10 feet [3 meters] from the [gate],” he wrote. “Wind, dust and a little rain had come and it was very uncomfortable, to be ended by the door keeper announcing … ‘No more can be admitted.’ … Being well known as a member of the choir [I was] … soon at the south west entrance and hurriedly passed through.”

Elder Hale returned recently from the California Ventura Mission. “I worked as a dietician’s assistant for two years. I made up the trays for the older sisters in a Catholic convent. I took them their food and helped them eat it. We enjoyed great religion discussions. They sent me researching history and facts. I loved the ladies like grandmas. I learned to respect them and their beliefs. My job in the school cafeteria led me to the convent job. I also raised rabbits and sold them through the pet stores for a commission.
“When I had enough money I loaned it out and received a steady income with interest. I put aside 10 percent for tithing and then another 20 percent for my mission.
“Work hard. The harder you work on a job, the harder you will work on your mission. It is difficult to be rejected at doors when tracting. Only the ability to work hard will keep you going back to one more door at the end of a long day.”

A few years ago I had a stake conference on the East Coast. While at the conference I had the assignment to interview a young 21-year-old man to determine his worthiness and preparation to serve a mission. Now, you are aware that General Authorities do not usually interview potential missionaries for worthiness. So this was an unusual and special situation. During my flight to the East, I read some background information regarding the reasons for my interview. As I read this information, my heart ached for this boy and for his family. He had committed almost every transgression there was. I believe he invented some transgressions. I wondered why I would be asked to visit one with such a background. I had already concluded that it would be most unusual for me to approve him as a missionary.

After the Saturday evening session of conference, I retired to the stake president’s office for the interview. As I was waiting with the door open, a handsome young man with a wonderful countenance and a glow about him approached. I wondered how I could excuse myself because it was apparent he wanted to talk to me and I had an appointment with a very troubled young man. When he reached me, he stuck out his hand and introduced himself. This was the young man I was to interview.

In the privacy of the office, I asked just one question: “Why am I interviewing you tonight?”

He then began to recount his sordid past—every transgression. When he was through, he began to explain the steps and the personal suffering he had gone through to prepare for this very interview. He then talked about the Atonement—the infinite power of the Atonement. He bore his testimony of the Atonement and expressed his love for the Savior. And then he said, “I believe the Savior’s personal suffering in Gethsemane and His sacrifice upon the cross was powerful enough to rescue even a man like me.”

Moved by the humility and testimony of this young man, and moved by the Spirit, I placed my hand on his shoulder and said, “When I get back to Salt Lake City, I am going to recommend you serve a mission as a representative of Jesus Christ.” And then I said, “I am only going to ask one thing of you. When you get into the mission field, I want you to be the best missionary in the entire Church. That is all.”

Three or four months later, Sister Edgley and I were speaking at the Missionary Training Center. At the conclusion of the devotional, I was standing in front of the podium visiting with missionaries when I saw a young man with a familiar face walking toward me.

When he reached me, he stuck out his hand and asked, “Do you remember me?”

Somewhat embarrassed, I said, “I’m sorry, I know I should know you, but I just don’t remember.”

And then he said, “Let me tell you who I am. I am the best missionary in the Missionary Training Center.” And I believed him.

This young man’s hope was based not only upon a knowledge and testimony of the Atonement but also upon a personalization of this gift. He understood that it was for him personally! Yes, he knew the power of the Atonement and the hope it gives when all might seem lost or hopeless.

Recently, I embarked on that same hike in the Tetons I spoke of earlier, only this time with my husband and a group of friends our same age. When we started, it was thrilling and easy, but before we arrived at our destination, we were exhausted and I knew I was in trouble. I was not as prepared for the hike physically as I had been when I hiked with the young women years before—and I had packed my equipment carelessly and taken too much. The weight of my pack began to make me weary and ready to give up. The others were also feeling the rigors of the altitude, the steep terrain, and heavy packs. My husband sensed this and hurried ahead. I felt abandoned. However, after about an hour I could see my husband descending the trail on the other side of the valley. He was running toward me. When he reached me, he took my pack, dried my tears, and led me to the destination—a crystal clear lake surrounded by lofty pine trees. Then he turned around, went back down the trail, and did the same thing four more times for the other hikers. As I watched him, I was sorry I was so unprepared and even more sorry that I had so many extra things in my pack that had added to the weight he had to carry for me. But I was so grateful for his strength, for his unselfishness, for his preparation, and for his love.

At age 25, I felt ready for marriage. I had already served a mission and felt that marriage was the next step for me. Marriage was promised to me in my patriarchal blessing, and a recent priesthood blessing had told me that it would happen “soon.” Not long after that, I started a new semester at school and quickly began dating someone. I’ll spare you all the details, but right before we were going to get engaged, he broke up with me. On my birthday.
I was devastated. This was the only thing I had prayed for consistently and so deeply for the past five years. And I felt like not only were my prayers not answered, but the very thing I had longed for was intentionally taken away from me.
I was so confused. I had felt spiritual feelings during the relationship that this was the right decision. But it just felt like God was being cruel and merciless—like He was intentionally taking good things out of my life. It seemed like the things He was doing were contrary to what I knew about His nature.
I had a bit of a faith crisis because there was no way I could look at what I was told about God and what He had done in not answering my prayers and reconcile the two logically. But my only choice was to go to Him with my broken heart—broken from both my unanswered prayers and my failed relationship. I felt like I had nothing left.
In trying to draw closer to Him, I began reading the Book of Mormon every day with a sincerity I hadn’t been capable of before. And little by little, as I expressed what tiny acts of faith I could to keep my broken heart soft and close to Him, answers started coming.
Eventually I realized that there had been some red flags and unhealthy patterns in the relationship that I had been unwilling to see. I began to understand that God had approved of my agency to move forward in the relationship. I started to see all my unanswered prayers in a different light. And I realized that God had been merciful all along.
Because I felt so broken and vulnerable after this experience, I looked for the most uplifting and wholesome friends I could find. I eventually began dating one of those friends. I learned to take this new relationship very slowly, and we laid a great foundation of friendship and selfless love that eventually took us to the temple to be sealed for time and all eternity. God answered my prayers, over time and after I had exercised faith in Him.

For a number of years he pursued his goal of working for President Heber J. Grant, whom he had known and admired as a boy in the Salt Lake business community. It was not an easy pursuit. President Grant was a “rapid-fire speaker,” and few secretaries had been able to record his sermons in shorthand. Undaunted, Joseph sat in the audience during a Sunday talk in the Tabernacle to take down the President’s remarks. A little later he recorded another of President Grant’s talks given in the Assembly Hall, at the request of the President who had been impressed by Joseph’s minutes of the earlier talk. “He surely gave me the drilling of my life. He was a fast speaker.” Illustrations, stories, poetry, quotations went by “like a threshing machine.” Afterwards, Joseph felt a little dejected, but his wife encouraged him to go to the library and copy some of the President’s references and quotations.

On 1 February 1922, Joseph Anderson became private secretary to President Grant, beginning an intimate association that would last twenty-three years. The firm, monumental figure beloved by the Church became Joseph’s personal friend. “Generosity,” replies Elder Anderson when asked which of President Grant’s qualities he remembers most. “I kept his accounts. I know of the many times he helped those in need, even paying off mortgages of widowed friends from his own pocket.”

President Grant was always ready to give. After an energetic conference talk in San Diego, the President invited Joseph to play golf with him. “I had never played golf, … but I couldn’t very well turn him down,” Elder Anderson reminisced. The President arranged for a lesson and a pail of golf balls to practice with, and then they played a number of holes. The next day in Los Angeles President Grant suffered a debilitating heart attack. On the way to the hospital, he whispered, “‘Joseph, you made some very good strokes yesterday.’ I said, ‘Yes, President, I’m afraid you’ve converted me. I will have to get some clubs and get busy.’ ‘Don’t you worry about the clubs,’ he said, ‘I’ll take care of that. I’ll buy them.’”

Fortunately, the President recovered to live five more years, although his life was very much endangered. From his sickbed, he insisted that every well-wishing card and gift of flowers be acknowledged, and, though barely able to move his hand, signed his name to every response. “He was the kindest of men,” says Elder Anderson. A day or two before his death at 88, President Grant met with his faithful secretary for the last time. “Joseph, have I ever been unkind to you?” he asked. His secretary was happy to be able to say, “You have never said an unkind word to me.”

It was late November, and I was in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in a place called Desolation Valley. After a five-mile hike, my three friends, my dad and brother, and I arrived in camp around 4:00 P.M. The sun was slowly beginning to fall. The air was bitter cold to all of us, so we immediately went to bed.
I’m still not sure why, but at 1:00 A.M. we all woke up. Not long after, we heard a worried yell in the distance. The yell came repeatedly, moving closer until a panicked-looking man appeared. Two women in his party were lost when they became separated on their descent down Pyramid Peak, about three miles from our camp.
We had seen a few people that day, but none matched the women’s description. We all knew how cold it was and that dehydration, hypothermia, hunger, and fear probably prevented the women from making it back.
I had earned my orienteering merit badge, and I was also a lifeguard, so my first aid was up to date. Despite the time of night, we were willing and able to look for these women.
We put together a search plan, and the man said he thought we should go southwest to get around a huge ridge that would allow us to go up the south side of the ridge. The Spirit whispered to me at that point that we needed to go over the ridge. But I decided to just go along with the man’s plan.
As we moved along this ridge, I again felt impressed that we should go over the ridge. This time I told our group that we needed to go up. The man knew he couldn’t make it, so we told him to stay behind as we continued. I wasn’t tired as we reached the ridge’s summit, which I found odd considering what time it was and that we were at around 8,000 feet.
During a short rest, I again felt the Spirit whisper to me to pray for guidance. My brother and my friend Brent readily agreed, and I offered a prayer. I felt sure Heavenly Father would respond.
As soon as the prayer concluded, we looked at each other and confidently began our search. But it wasn’t that simple. Perhaps we were relying too much on our own abilities rather than on the Lord. So we prayed again. This time Brent pleaded on behalf of these women that we might be tools in Heavenly Father’s hands to find and bring them back safely.
Again we stood, knowing exactly where we needed to go. Before long, we heard whistles blowing. We knew we were close.
I still remember the look of pure joy on the women’s faces when we found them three hours after our search began. They held each other and shed a few tears. I can’t put into words the joy I felt when I realized the experience I had been blessed with. My testimony of prayer has increased tremendously, and I have come to know that I have a Father in Heaven who loves us beyond comprehension.

Dieuveut Demosthène, 18, and Robenson Marcel Laroque Jean, 19, are the best of friends. And they intend to keep it that way. Forever.

“We were neighbors, and we played basketball together,” Robenson explains. “I joined the Church when I was 16, and after a while I suggested to Dieuveut that he should come too. I prayed a lot, and I persisted. Now look at him, a strong member of the Church. I’m proud of him.”

“Robenson invited me many times,” Dieuveut says, “and over time I accepted. He has always spoken with superb words, like he understands everything. So his invitation wasn’t worrisome; it was extraordinary. After a while I started having lessons with the missionaries, and I joined the Church when I was 17.”

That’s the ideal way for missionary work to be done—friends sharing the gospel with friends and giving referrals to the missionaries to teach them. “From me—one person in the Church—now we are two, and we continue the same work together,” Robenson says. As a result of their efforts, one of Dieuveut’s big brothers and another friend have also joined the Church. One became two, and two became four.

Rather, Dieuveut says, as people realize the happiness the gospel brings, the Church in Haiti will keep growing. “I am truly grateful to Robenson for sharing the gospel with me,” he says, “and that’s why I want to share the gospel with others. Last week I asked myself, in the past did I know what joy was? Because today, even if I don’t have everything materially that I want, I always feel at peace with myself. I have a great hope that I will be close to my Heavenly Father.”

“I’m already trying to be a missionary,” Robenson says. “Each day I carry my backpack with several copies of the Book of Mormon in it, just to share with others. Many of them know I’m a member of the Church, and I’m eager to share my testimony. To go on a full-time mission will be a great opportunity to serve God by serving His children. It is my great desire to go.”

Dieuveut says he often talks with returned missionaries. “They have told me how the Lord was able to bless people through the missionaries, and I would like to share in such blessings. They have told me how they lived in the mission field, how much they enjoyed it. Also, after their missions, they are worthy, good examples. I want to be like that.”

What will the future bring? “Heavenly Father has His plan for Haiti,” Dieuveut says. “He is giving members here the opportunity to become strong. It is Haitians teaching Haitians, and that will bless us.”

Robenson will soon receive his mission call, and he hopes it’s to Haiti. Dieuveut won’t be far behind and also hopes to serve in his native land. But whether they’re called to Haiti or to some other country, they know that they will make many more friends in the Church and that their own friendship will continue. Because when you’re friends in the gospel, you’re friends for eternity.

by Jeffery A. Lee and Paul Scott Embley
What do you get when you combine 39 Hollanders, eight missionaries, and five eight-foot sandwiches? The young members of the Groningen Branch, Netherlands Amsterdam Mission, found out when they joined their nonmember friends, the missionaries, and fellow branch members in the park. The combination means you’re having an American picnic, Dutch style.
Actually, the fun began the night before when the Aaronic Priesthood and the Young Women gathered to fill the lengthy loaves. Armed with spoons, knives, ham, bologna, cheese, lettuce, pickles, and condiments, they soon stuffed the “submarines” amply enough to satisfy any appetite.
The next morning, an unexpected problem arose: how do you transport five eight-foot sandwiches to the park when the major means of transportation is bicycles? The answer was easy—recruit a Volkswagen! Such a car may already seem small to some people, but it seemed even smaller stuffed with super sandwiches!
But the sandwiches arrived and so did the crowd, with young and old enjoying each other’s company. The picnic started with contests: tossing raw eggs between partners, three-legged races, wheelbarrow racing, Frisbee throwing, volleyball, and soccer.
The games were followed by a testimony meeting, during which the picnickers discussed their love for their Savior, Jesus Christ. Then, finally, it was time to eat. Even though everyone’s hunger was great, they found it small compared to the size of the sandwiches—a total of 40 feet of bread and fillings.

I often like to think of the story about my nana, my dad’s grandmother, who lived on a diet of fish and chips and Neapolitan ice cream, exclusively. Our visits were always enjoyable for this reason, as well as for others. At a family funeral, I have been told that Nana took my dad to one side to a nearby grave and told him, “This is where I’m going to be buried, and after me there’s still one space left. It’s yours if you want it!” My dad has since offered the space to me, but I think I may yet save it and offer it to my son one day. I like this story because it gives me an insight into where my dad’s family’s humour comes from, and it’s a memory worth holding on to so that it can be shared for years to come.

When schoolteachers in Kaiserslautern, Germany, wonder if holding classes, grading papers, and putting up with noisy students are worth it, the youth of the Landstuhl Military Ward, Kaiserslautern Germany Military Stake, like to remind them of their value. Each year for the past six years, the youth have expressed appreciation for their teachers’ service and caring with a teacher appreciation night.
The youth chose “For the Strength of Youth” as this year’s theme. They made a memory and quote book for their teachers, thanking them for their guidance, knowledge, and service. The youth also treated the teachers to dinner in the Church cultural hall, which they decorated for the occasion, and they put on a show to entertain them. On each table they left copies of For the Strength of Youth for the teachers to take home. Their teachers certainly appreciate being appreciated!

One day my father brought home a beautiful, spirited thoroughbred. She had been fully trained as a polo pony. She happened to be about half a hand too small to qualify for the buyer of the rest of the string, so my father bought her for us. This was one of the most exciting gifts I had ever had. Here was a prize any boy would be thrilled with. She could take off like a jack rabbit. She could stop on a dime, back up almost on a run, do anything any other horse could do, and do it better. She was a thoroughbred; yet, she lacked one thing. Almost every time I got on her, she ran away with me. Perhaps it was my fault, but she simply would not accept authority. She would take the bit in her teeth and take off, paying no attention to where I wanted to go. She was a rebel. All her training and talent were lost because she was headstrong and resented authority. We had named her Lady, but it was not long before we stopped calling her Lady and finally gave her away.

My youngest brother was saying the usual family prayer, “Thank Thee for this day, the weather … ,” when out of this five-year-old’s mouth came, “and thank Thee for letting us be able to talk to Thee always.” I sat for a long time wondering about my wise brother. I started saying personal prayers in the morning and right before I went to bed. I was happier than before and felt the Spirit more often. My questions and doubts were quickly answered, and I knew that I was spiritually improving.Andrea Minson, 14Baytown First Ward, Houston Texas East Stake

The experience began in February 2023 when Elder Doneal White and Sister Claudia White arrived in the Cook Islands to serve a mission where there was no stake patriarch. In an early morning seminary class, they heard that 14 students told their teacher they had not received their patriarchal blessings. Wheels were set in motion and soon thereafter Brother Stebbings was authorised to travel to the Cook Islands to provide the desired blessings.
Elder and Sister White said they had prayed the Stebbings there—to the Cook Islands, and the timing was perfect—with a district conference during that time, and it was school holidays—plus a national youth soccer tournament the following week had brought in two groups of members for the tournament—and they could receive their blessings.