Gospel Story Finder

The first day I saw Frances, I knew I’d found the right one. The Lord brought us together later, and I asked her to go out with me. I went to her home to call on her. She introduced me, and her father said, “ ‘Monson’—that’s a Swedish name, isn’t it?”

I said, “Yes.”

He said, “Good.”

Then he went into another room and brought out a picture of two missionaries with their top hats and their copies of the Book of Mormon.

“Are you related to this Monson,” he said, “Elias Monson?”

I said, “Yes, he’s my grandfather’s brother. He too was a missionary in Sweden.”

Her father wept. He wept easily. He said, “He and his companion were the missionaries who taught the gospel to my mother and my father and all of my brothers and sisters and to me.” He kissed me on the cheek. And then her mother cried, and she kissed me on the other cheek. And then I looked around for Frances. She said, “I’ll go get my coat.”

My sweet Frances had a terrible fall a few years ago. She went to the hospital. She lay in a coma for about 18 days. I sat by her side. She never moved a muscle. The children cried, the grandchildren cried, and I wept. Not a movement.

And then one day, she opened her eyes. I set a speed record in getting to her side. I gave her a kiss and a hug, and I said, “You’re back. I love you.” And she said, “I love you, too, Tom, but we’re in serious trouble.” I thought, What do you know about trouble, Frances? She said, “I forgot to mail in our fourth-quarter income tax payment.”

I said to her, “Frances, if you had said that before you extended a kiss to me and told me you love me, I might have left you here.”

Brethren, let’s treat our wives with dignity and with respect. They’re our eternal companions. Sisters, honor your husbands. They need to hear a good word. They need a friendly smile. They need a warm expression of true love.

Sri was married and had a family when Elders Larry White and Carl Hansen met her in 1968. “I did not like the missionaries very much at first,” says Sister Sri, “but they kept coming back. I put the Book of Mormon on the shelf for three months. One night I decided to look at it, so I held it up and prayed, ‘If there is something good in here for me, let me know it.’ I opened it and read until I couldn’t read anymore. Tears came to my eyes. Then I held the book to my chest. Soon I went upstairs to my room and closed the door. It was the first time I knelt down and prayed. I cried and called out, ‘My Father, my Father.’ I knew He could hear me. I prayed and cried for a long time. When I got up, I began to read again without stopping.” Sri and two of her children were baptized on 4 July 1968, her 44th birthday.

As early Saints reached Utah, President Brigham Young issued calls to some of them to serve missions to many nations of the world, to others to colonize areas outside the Salt Lake Valley. George Careless was prepared to accept any call he received.
“Brother George,” President Young said, “I have a mission for you. … I want you to take the Tabernacle Choir … and lay a foundation for good music in Utah.” Brother Careless accepted the call.
Born in London on September 24, 1839, George displayed musical talent early in life. His father, a woodcarver, berated his son for “wasting time” with music and told him to learn a trade. George went to work in a shoemaking company, but his heart wasn’t in it. The plant foreman, a music lover who collected violins, loaned him one of them, and George soon learned to play it.
When he was ten years old, he was offered a place in a London choir school, where boys earned their academic and musical education by singing in a church or cathedral. It was a wonderful opportunity, but George turned it down. He had recently joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was eager to participate fully in it.
George’s father never accepted his devotion to music and told him to either give it up or leave the family. So when he was thirteen, George left home.
Later, the shoe factory foreman loaned George the money to attend the Royal Academy of Music. After graduating in three years rather than the usual four, he was hired as a member of an orchestra that gave concerts in the Crystal Palace, England’s showplace for the arts. With his first earnings, he repaid the foreman.
At the same time, George worked to improve the musical activities of the Church in England. He directed a London Conference choir, earning it such a high reputation that it was invited to perform at several of London’s leading concert halls.
His career was progressing so well that Elder William C. Staines encouraged him to move to Utah before he became so famous that it would be almost impossible to leave those who went to hear him. Six weeks later, George sailed for America. On his ship, the Hudson, he led a choir composed of Saints who were immigrating to Utah. He arrived in New York City on July 19, 1864. From there he suffered illness and hunger much of the rest of the way.
Arriving in the Salt Lake Valley, George was given the depressing news that the few professional musicians already there were unable to make a living with their music. Even so, he was determined to teach music even if he starved. By the end of the next month, he had twenty-four paying pupils. The going rate for a series of lessons in the Salt Lake Valley was a hundred pounds of flour.
When President Young called him to his musical mission, George replied, “I will do the best I can with the material I can get.”
The prophet responded, “You will have to make that.”
Organizing a choir in the rough conditions of frontier living took determination and grit as well as talent. At his first rehearsal of the choir, only forty members were present. The Tabernacle, still under construction, had no heating or lighting. Choir members held a candle in one hand, their music in the other.
On October 8, 1873, the Salt Lake Tabernacle Choir joined with choirs from fourteen surrounding communities to perform at General Conference. Some of the choirs had to travel several days to reach Salt Lake City.
When Brigham Young died in 1877, George assembled a 220-member choir to perform a hymn he composed for the funeral.
After serving eleven years as director of the Tabernacle Choir, George resigned his post in 1880. His mission was to continue, though, when President John Taylor asked him to head a committee to write music for all the hymns to be included in The Latter-day Saints’ Psalmody, published in 1889. The Psalmody contained 330 hymns, three-fourths of them set to music by Mormon composers. One of Brother Careless’s compositions is the well-known sacrament hymn “He Died! The Great Redeemer Died.”
George Careless fulfilled his mission to lay a foundation for good music, not just in Utah but in the whole Church.

My mother made me this journal, and this is my first time writing in it. My name is Patrick O’Hurley. I am 11 years old, and I live with my family on a potato farm in Ireland. A potato famine has been going for five years now. Many people have died from hunger and disease, like my friend Bartholomew and my grandmother Melvina.
Everyone is hungry, even my dog, Whiskers. He keeps chewing on my shoes, no matter where I hide them!
I don’t know if God really cares. Da and Ma say He does. They say we just have to have faith, but the famine is still going on. Why doesn’t God answer my family’s prayers? I think maybe He has forgotten about us. We’re only potato farmers—maybe we’re not important enough for Him to remember.
Two Mormon missionaries visited us yesterday. They spoke about God and His Son and a plan God has for everyone, even us. The missionaries said we are children of God and that each one of us is very important to Him. At first I wasn’t sure about it, but last night I prayed hard, and I felt something inside of me. A feeling as warm as the blanket Ma made me to use on cold winter nights.
The missionaries helped us understand the reason for trials. We learned that difficulties help us grow and test our faith so we can become more like Heavenly Father. I asked them why some trials go on and on, and the tall one said, “If all our trials were fixed in a single moment, how could we become stronger inside? Our legs couldn’t become stronger if we could climb any mountain in a single step.”
My faith is a lot stronger now, and I am happy. The famine has not ended yet, but we know that in the Lord’s good time it will. We prayed we could leave Ireland, and Heavenly Father has provided a way. We will be leaving for Canada in about two weeks. I know now that it is after the trials that the blessings come.
Whiskers still chews on my shoes. Da says it keeps me humble. Then he laughed. So did everybody else. Even me. We know blessings come after our trials, so I asked Ma if after Whiskers chews my shoes up, I will be able to get a brand new pair. I didn’t hear what she said because Da laughed even louder!

Oh, what joy there is in temple attendance! While the Salt Lake Temple was undergoing remodeling, my wife decided one day to gather up some of the ladies in our condominium building and drive out to the Jordan River Temple to enjoy a session there. After completing the session, they came out of the temple to find the land being blessed with hard rain. As they drove out of the temple grounds, standing under the shelter waiting for the bus was a little, elderly lady. My wife stopped and asked her if she wanted a ride into the city. She immediately came forward. On the ride into the city they heard a most humble testimony of a sweet sister, who every day was taking the bus out to the Jordan River Temple, summer and winter, rain or shine, to accomplish her temple work. She was only eighty-four years of age. She possessed a spirit of enthusiasm for temple work which deeply affected the riders in the car that day.

I want to share my journey back to the gospel of Jesus Christ and then eventually to BYU—not once, but twice—and how the Savior’s love, channeled through divinely directed people, guided me to this sacred place. I grew up in a family without any historical connection to or knowledge of BYU, so BYU had never been in my educational plan.

My parents were amazing people and great examples of unconditional love and service. My dad joined the Church in his 20s. My mom was baptized in her youth through the influence of her grandmother; however, the gospel wasn’t a part of her homelife growing up. As my parents started their family, their knowledge of the gospel was limited. Our family attended church until I was 10, when we moved to an area with very few members and our ward was in another town. Without a close connection to ward members, our family drifted away from Church activity and the gospel.

During my youth, my focus was academics and playing sports. As I headed into my senior year of high school, my dream was to attend a local university and play football. Neither of my parents had attended college, but they were very supportive of my dream. Everything was going according to my plan. I had a very successful football season, was accepted to the local university, and was recruited to play football.

However, the Lord had a different path for me to follow. He had inspired a young bishop, Bishop David Terry, to notice me on his list of inactive young men. I have no doubt the Lord put him in my life at this critical time to help guide me toward the gospel and a new path—a path that would touch my soul and change my life forever.

I was surprised one day when Bishop Terry called and asked if I would accept a calling to be one of his assistants in the priests quorum. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but before I knew it, I had accepted the assignment. My parents had always taught me that if you are asked to do something good, you say yes. I was ordained a priest, and each Sunday I would drive to the next town for church to assist the bishop with the quorum activities and to bless the sacrament. I didn’t know any of the other youth in the ward. They all attended a different high school.

The bishop then received another piece of inspiration and challenged me to get my patriarchal blessing. Again, I didn’t fully understand the purpose of receiving a patriarchal blessing, but I agreed to do it. At that time I had no idea how a few words spoken by that patriarch would impact my life.

A few Sundays later I drove to the patriarch’s home. I had never met Brother Horch and was still wondering about the importance of receiving the blessing. As I sat there with his hands on my head, I listened intently to his words. I heard him say, “You will have the opportunity to spend two years serving your Heavenly Father as a missionary, and you will feel the blessings of the Lord poured out on you and those who are near and dear to you.”

I thought, “I don’t even know that much about the Church. How could I ever be a missionary?” I kept saying to myself, “A mission is not in my plans, regardless of what my blessing says.”

I was not happy with this new revelation regarding my future. I desperately wanted to forget the whole thing and move on with my life, but for some reason I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

Six months passed. I had been attending church, but I had not yet accepted the invitation to serve a mission. I had so many reasons why it didn’t make sense for me. With only a couple of weeks before the start of fall football practice, I had an unusual experience at work as I was reading the Book of Mormon one morning before the workday began. I was approached by an older coworker who asked what I was doing. I told him I was reading the scriptures. When he realized it was not the Bible but the Book of Mormon, he quickly informed me that the book was not from God and that I should not be reading it.

I was surprised by his harsh reaction, but in that moment I received a strong impression that I needed to change my plan and that I must go on a mission and follow the Lord’s plan for me. The thought overwhelmed me to the point that when I arrived home from work that day, I told my parents I had to go on a mission and that attending the local university would not help prepare me. My coworker didn’t realize it, but he was the critical piece in pushing me one step closer to the Lord and a mission.

The next question was which college I should attend while preparing for a mission. I didn’t know much about nor had I applied to BYU, so that wasn’t an option at that time. However, I had heard about Ricks College, so the following weekend my supportive and loving parents and I drove from western Washington to Rexburg, Idaho, to register me for fall classes. Just a few weeks later I began classes, marking the start of my journey in the Church Educational System. The year flew by, and I had the opportunity to meet incredible faculty and students who helped me grow my testimony of the gospel. I was able to associate with other young people who were also preparing to serve missions, and by the end of the school year I had submitted my mission papers and received my call.

The Lord was with me and my family every step of the way. While I was at Ricks College, the promises in my patriarchal blessing regarding my family, “those near and dear to me,” started to unfold. The stake established a new branch in the town where my family lived, and my dad was called into the branch presidency. When I arrived home from college, I had the privilege of being the first missionary to serve from this newly formed branch.

My mission to Southern California was a very meaningful experience, helping me grow my understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ and experience the blessing of serving others. It deepened my faith and prepared me for the next stage of my spiritual and educational development. Additionally, while I was serving, my brother-in-law joined the Church, and he and my sister were sealed in the temple. After I completed my mission, our family had the opportunity to be sealed as an eternal family. I returned to Ricks College, walked onto the football team, and resumed my schooling. Each day it was a blessing to be around faculty and fellow students who loved the Lord.

Upon receiving my associate’s degree, I was inspired to transfer to BYU to further my spiritual and educational development. Even though I knew it was a special place, I didn’t realize just how special it was. Similar to my experience at Ricks College, at BYU I was introduced to amazing and loving people who continued to shape me and my testimony, preparing me for my future journey in life. During my senior year I was blessed to meet my wife, Dana, in our ward at the Riviera, and we were married a few weeks after graduation before moving to St. Louis for my first job. Upon leaving BYU, I felt well prepared spiritually, intellectually, and professionally. I appreciated my experience at BYU but never thought I would return.

More than a dozen Primary children from the Fusagasuga Ward, Soacha Colombia Stake, spent a special day at the Bogotá Colombia Temple, learning about the temple’s importance.
In November 2009 the ward Primary presidency accompanied 15 Primary children to the temple. There the children had the opportunity to meet the temple president, Jorge J. Escobar, and ask questions. The children learned why they had to wait until they were 12 to enter the temple to do temple work, why the figure of the angel Moroni on the temple spire holds a trumpet, and why he often faces east.
At the end of the activity, the children shared their feelings about the experience.
Maria Fernanda Sanchez, ward Primary secretary, said it was a spiritual experience. “It was a special, unforgettable day not only for them but for us as their Primary leaders,” she said.

Heavenly Father has given us all talents and gifts that can help us provide for ourselves and our families. Learning to recognize our talents and gifts—and interests—is an important first step in career preparation. President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency, learned from his father, Henry Eyring, to choose a career that complemented his interests.

Because of his love for science, Professor Henry Eyring encouraged his sons to major in physics as preparation for a career in science. While President Eyring was studying physics at the University of Utah, he had an exchange with his father that changed his career direction. He asked his father for help with a complex mathematical problem. “My father was at a blackboard we kept in the basement,” President Eyring recalls. “Suddenly he stopped. ‘Hal,’ he said, ‘we were working this same kind of problem a week ago. You don’t seem to understand it any better now than you did then. Haven’t you been working on it?’”

A little chagrined, President Eyring admitted he had not. President Eyring recalls his father’s response: “When I told him no, my father paused. It was really a very tender and poignant moment, because I knew how much he loved me and how much he wanted me to be a scientist. Then he said, ‘Hal, I think you’d better get out of physics. You ought to find something that you love so much that when you don’t have to think about anything, that’s what you think about.’”2

My favorite year of rugby was the year after high school. The team of which I was a member was both talented and committed. We were the champion team that year. However, one day we were to play a lowly ranked team, and after the game we all had dates to take to the big, annual college dance. I thought that because this would be an easy game, I should try to protect myself from injury so I would be able to enjoy the dance fully. In that game, we were not as committed in the hard contacts as we might have been, and we lost. To make things worse, I ended the match with a very swollen, fat lip that did not enhance my appearance for my big date. Perhaps I needed to learn something.

When Thelma was 16, she was called to be the Primary president. Our bishop had been trying to find someone to handle the many challenges the Primary organization was facing. The ward covered a large area, and it was difficult and expensive for many families with small children to travel by bus to the church both on Saturdays for Primary and on Sundays. Many of those children were not attending Primary, and no solution had been found. The bishop had been prompted to call Thelma but could not bring himself to do it because she was so young. The prompting continued, and after receiving approval from the stake president, the bishop extended the call to my sister.

This proved to be an inspired decision, and it blessed many children—including me. Thelma magnified her calling by following inspiration, using common sense, and implementing innovative ideas to develop training programs to bring the gospel to the children. She asked her counselors and teachers to hold Primary meetings at several places closer to their homes, and she provided ongoing training for those teachers. This solution allowed members to save time and money and enabled children who were previously not attending Primary to receive the blessings of this wonderful organization.

My soccer team went to a tournament on a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. My mom asked me what I was going to do about Sunday’s game. I said I didn’t know what to do. My dad encouraged me to pray, so I prayed about it. That night, the song “Nephi’s Courage” got stuck in my head. I knew Heavenly Father answered my prayers through that song so I would remember to have courage to obey His commandments. On Sunday after church, I knew my team was playing. I was a little sad that I couldn’t help my team, but I knew I was doing the right thing. I am glad that Heavenly Father helped me make the right choice, even though it was hard to make.

Mom and Callie were making cookies.
Callie squirted green icing onto the cookies.
SQUIRT!
Callie picked up three pink candies. She dropped them on top of the frosting.
PLOP! PLOP! PLOP!
Callie and Mom decorated all the cookies.
“It looks like a flower garden,” Callie said.
Callie helped Mom wrap the cookies. They wanted to give the cookies to Sister Jones. Sister Jones was sick.
Mom and Callie drove to Sister Jones’s house.
Callie rang the doorbell.
DING-DONG!
Sister Jones opened the door.
“We brought you a yummy flower garden,” Callie said.
Sister Jones was happy. Callie was happy too.

Meanwhile Gary focused his attention on football. His wrist, sprained during a preseason scrimmage, kept him from starting the first game of his junior year. Then someone else earned the starting quarterback position, and for the first time in his life, Gary, fit and ready, sat on the bench. That was a discouraging time for him, but he quietly worked, watched, and waited for his chance to play. Nearly halfway through the season, the chance came.
“We were behind by seven, with one minute and three seconds left to play, 70 yards to go, and a 40-mile-an-hour wind in our faces,” Gary recalls. “But things clicked, and we almost won that game. We were on the three-yard line when time ran out.”
The game had ended, but the Sheide era at BYU had begun. In less than two seasons Gary broke records that it had taken other WAC athletes three years to set. During his brief career Gary threw 595 times and completed 358 passes for 60.3 percent, 4,524 yards, and 45 touchdown passes. He set a conference record for completed passes (32) and touchdown passes (6) in one game. He also set a WAC record for completion percentage. United Press International twice named him National Back of the Week, and the Associated Press named him National Player of the Week. He was on the All-WAC first team, was the United Press Most Valuable Player in the WAC, and was eighth in the Heisman Trophy voting. He was second in the nation in passing for two years running. He led BYU to a Western Athletic Conference championship and the right to play in the nationally televised Fiesta Bowl.

From time to time I meet members of the Church who do not feel able to take responsibility as an officer or a teacher in the Church. I tell them of my experience in England. Literally within days of baptism I was called to head the youth program in the Nottingham branch. This was completely new to me and I felt inadequate, but I knew the Lord needed me. There were less than 7,000 members in the whole of the British Isles where there are now 40 stakes. We all had to be “anxiously engaged” in the work of saving souls, building the kingdom, and establishing Zion. So it is with all of us.

Young women, let your days begin and end with prayer. Read from your scriptures every day. When you pray and talk with your Heavenly Father, when you let him communicate with you through the scriptures and through his Spirit, you will find answers to your prayers—just as Dawn did.
When Dawn’s parents received a mission call to Japan, she was given the choice of going with them or staying behind. Going meant leaving her friends, missing her senior year in high school, and, in general, changing many of her future plans. The decision seemed too hard to make. She said, “I spent a lot of time crying and wondering why this should be happening to me.”
She fasted and prayed about the decision. It seemed coincidental that they were studying the Book of Mormon in seminary and were talking about Lehi’s family. In the past she had wondered why Laman and Lemuel had such a hard time choosing the right. It bothered her that they were the older brothers and didn’t set a good example. She began to liken herself to the scriptures. She was the oldest child in the family, and going to Japan was like going into the wilderness for her. She would have to leave a lot of important things behind. She said, “I didn’t want to be a Laman or Lemuel. I wanted to obey my Father in Heaven and do his will.” She knew her decision was right when she told her parents she would love to go to Japan with them and it felt so good.
At the farewell, Dawn told her friends how much she loved them and would miss them, then said, “I realize that the greatest friend I have is Jesus Christ. I feel of his love every day.”

My grandpa was not a member of the Church, but he taught me to be fair and honest with everyone. I remember being in the field with him when storm clouds quickly came up. Grandpa unhooked the horses from the wagon so that they could run back to the barn. Then he and I got under the wagon. As we lay there, waiting for the storm to pass, my grandpa told me all about his parents and brothers and sisters.

During my years in the military, I took many classes about how to be a good leader. But the most important lessons I ever learned about leadership were from my mother, who taught me how to treat people. As she washed dishes and I dried them, we talked. She taught me to always treat people kindly and to treat them all equally. This is what it means to be a good leader—treating others kindly and honestly.

Each year the young men and young women from my ward take a caroling trip to a home for people with mental disabilities who don’t have families to take care of them. One year, the youth were split into three groups to sing carols to the residents. My group sang to a few older men, who sang along with us. One even helped conduct the songs!
After we finished singing to them, we joined another group of youth who were singing to women ranging in age from young adults to the elderly. Most of the people in our audience were smiling, and some were even singing along. We felt the Spirit as we saw the joy on their faces. They were so happy to have us there, because some of the residents had families who never visited them, even during the holidays.
After we finished our last song, our ward’s Young Women president told one of the elderly women that it was her turn. This woman had a song she liked to sing to every group that visited, and she was eager to share it with us.
As she began to sing her song, the Spirit in the room grew stronger with every word. Soon, some of the other women began to join in. I felt tears come to my eyes as we listened.
I doubt anyone in the room could deny that the Holy Ghost was present. We left with a reverent attitude and with a strong feeling of gratitude for the opportunity to serve.

It’s hard, I know. I’ve been there. It took me two years to gain the courage I needed to go to my bishop. When I did and talked with him about my problem, you wouldn’t believe the amount of guilt and pain that was lifted from my shoulders. It’s almost impossible to imagine the joy one can feel when the problem is gone. Bishops keep these things you tell them a secret. They have to. They show you how to repent and solve your problem. They also let you know that you’re still a son or daughter of God and that your Father in Heaven still loves you. Please, go to your bishop if you haven’t already. You’ll be glad that you did.
Name withheld

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

“May I open it?” Rachel* could hardly contain her excitement as she watched Mom turn the white envelope over in her hand. Rachel was often allowed to help open the mail.
Mom smiled and handed her the letter. “I’m afraid it will never make it in time at this late date. I wonder how it ever came to be in our mailbox?” Rachel wasn’t sure what her mother meant.
Taking the envelope, she slit it open carefully so as not to disturb the New Hampshire return address. Mom took the letter and read it silently. Rachel could see tears in her mother’s eyes.
“Is it sad, Mom?” Rachel felt her own eyes start to sting.
Mom gave the letter back to her. “Why don’t you read it aloud?”
Rachel was just learning to read cursive. Slowly she began.
“‘Dear Santa,’”—Rachel paused—“Mom, is this what you meant when you said it wouldn’t make it?”
“Yes, Rachel. It’s already December 22. I want you to know that as I held the letter, my first thought was to return it to the post office, but the Holy Ghost whispered to me that I should open it.”
Rachel continued to read: “‘I am a single mother on welfare. I have one child, a boy, four years old. I can’t afford to buy him Christmas presents. Will you please help me? He is in need of clothes and shoes. His shoe size is 9 1/2, and in clothing, he is a 4 or 5. He also needs a winter coat, gloves, boots, and socks. Sincerely, Salina ReabaldP. S. A toy or two would be nice. Thank you.’”
Rachel set the letter down and threw her arms around her mother. They were both silent for a moment.
“We have to help them,” Rachel said finally.
“I know,” Mom agreed. “I noticed a return address—534 Pilgrim Street, Salem, New Hampshire. That’s a long way from southern Utah. How did it ever get here?” Mom stopped. “Rachel! Look at this. The letter is addressed to Santa, in care of The North Pole 84745. That’s our zip code!”
Rachel stared at the envelope. “Did you notice that she didn’t ask for anything for herself?”
Mom put an arm around her. “How would you like to play Santa this year?”
“Oh yes! Do you think we have enough time? There are only three days until Christmas.”
“I have an idea.” Mom walked over to the phone and punched in a number. “Hello. This is Sister Marjorie Banks. Would you please connect me with the Missionary Department?” Rachel waited quietly. “I was wondering if you could give me the name and telephone number of the New Hampshire Mission president. It’s important that I get in touch with him right away. Thank you. I’ll hold.”
Mom picked up the letter from the table and wrote quickly on the back as the information was given to her.
“Well, young lady,” Mom exclaimed as she hung up the telephone a second time, “we have our work cut out for us! President Hafen of the New Hampshire Manchester Mission will help us locate Salina and her son. If we can get a package together and send it by overnight mail to the mission home, he will see that it is delivered.”
They canceled all their plans for the day. Rachel even gave up the afternoon she had planned with her best friend.
Together Mom and Rachel bought some nice clothes and shoes for the little boy. Mom got a gift certificate from a nationwide clothing store for the mother. Rachel’s little brother, Alma, gave up one of his favorite toys for the package. Tucked inside two bright-red, fur-trimmed stockings were several pieces of Mom’s wonderful Christmas candy. After a trip to the local bookstore and toy outlet, the package was almost complete.
“Rachel,” Mom said as she wrote the address of the mission home on the package, “do you think you could write your testimony on this stationery? I’ll glue it to the inside cover of the scripture reader we bought for the little boy.”
Rachel took the stationery and wrote in her best cursive:
Dear Friend,I know you don’t know me. I am a little older than you. I am going to be eight in just one month. This is a special age for me, for I will be baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You probably don’t know much about my church, but I love it! I want you to know that I love Jesus and Heavenly Father. They are always there to look out for me. I know that They love you, too, and will keep you safe. Merry Christmas! Love, Rachel
Rachel watched as her mother tucked her own testimony into a Book of Mormon for Salina.
“Mom,” she said quietly. “Do you think they will understand how much we love the gospel?”
“There’s really no way of knowing,” Mom said, giving Rachel a big hug. “Perhaps if they feel the love of someone who sincerely cares, they will accept the truth when it is presented to them. Now, what do you say we get this in the mail?”
Two days after Christmas, the mission president in New Hampshire called.
“Sister Banks? This is President Hafen. I wanted to let you know. …” President Hafen said that the package had been delivered by two fine young missionaries on Christmas Eve. When the young mother saw what was in the box, she was overcome with gratitude. Tears of joy streamed down her face. The box was the only Christmas gift she would have, but at least now she had something to share with her small son.
President Hafen went on to say that it was a very touching moment for the elders. They asked if they could call on her after the holidays, and she gladly said yes. The mission president added that the woman was very grateful and wanted to express her thanks for the nicest thing that had ever happened to her.
“And let me thank you, too,” President Hafen told her, “for making this one of the most memorable Christmases we have ever had.”
Mom hung up the phone and wiped her eyes.
“Do you think she will join the Church?” Rachel asked.
“I don’t know,” Mom replied. “But I do feel that the Lord had a hand in that letter coming to our mailbox.”
Rachel beamed. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had!”
“Me, too,” Mom said, gathering her daughter into her arms. “Me, too.”