Gospel Story Finder

As a recently returned missionary, Brother Viwe Xozwa’s schedule was exhausting. The education-driven convert in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, attended school from 8 a.m. to noon, worked from 1 p.m. to 6 p.m., then studied until 8 or 9 p.m. on a regular basis.

Brother Xozwa was never bothered or upset by the busy schedule he maintained, though. In fact, he was grateful just for the opportunity he had to study and learn, which was made possible by others’ generosity.

Brother Xozwa is a recipient of a Perpetual Education Fund (PEF) loan, which made obtaining an education a more realistic possibility than it otherwise would have been. Now a 27-year-old computer engineer and the executive secretary in his stake, he attributes many of his blessings to the PEF.

“I would not be where I am right now in my life if that inspired program was not established,” he said.

While he always planned to attend college, Brother Xozwa and his mother lacked the funds to pay for school. A conventional bank loan was a possibility, though higher interest rates would have made it very costly and would have taken a long time to pay off. Instead, Brother Xozwa heard about the PEF from a Church Educational System couple in his area. He applied for and received a $1,150 PEF loan and enrolled in computer engineering classes at Damelin College in Port Elizabeth.

After about a year of study, Brother Xozwa was offered a job at an IT consulting firm. The company waited for him to finish up the school year and supported him in his continued studies. Because of his employment, he was able to pay off his loan the following year, and the company has sponsored his further studies for the past four years in disciplines such as labor relations, corporate governance, business administration and management, and advanced project management.

“The PEF program gave me the initial kick-start that I needed, and the rest I could do on my own,” he said. “It gave me an initial boost; everything else just opened up.”

Knowing where his loan came from made Brother Xozwa dedicate himself completely to doing well in school and paying off his loan. He wanted to use the generous donations the best way he could.

“I realized these were sacred funds. Others had made a contribution to my education, so it was my responsibility to show appreciation by studying hard,” he said. “The money that was granted me was not mine to play around with. I was given the opportunity to make something of my life, to kick-start a good future, and it was my responsibility to grab that opportunity with both hands and not fail.”

Brother Xozwa understood this principle and was motivated to help others receive the same opportunities he had.

“The Lord is giving you the opportunity to progress, but also to help the next person,” he said. “It was my responsibility to repay the money as soon as possible so that the next person could have an equally good chance to study and progress. Think of how many people you can influence if you use the funds correctly. You can do wonders not just for you but for other people.”

His experience has taught him leadership skills and independence in addition to self-reliance and the ability to keep commitments.

“It’s not just education. It’s not just getting a diploma or getting a degree. It’s not just a career. It’s so much more than that. It opens doors for you to grow individually,” he said.

Brother Xozwa said he will be forever grateful for the generosity extended to him that made a world of difference in his life.

“I would love one day to meet the person or the people who contributed to the program in the initial stages just to say thank you,” he said. “Maybe it was pocket change for them, but it changed generations. It has changed my family.”

For example, when I got a text from a sister telling me she couldn’t attend an event because of some family issues, I felt prompted to go visit her.
She told me the traumatic, heartbreaking challenges her family was going through. I had no idea what to say—I had never encountered similar issues in my own life. I prayed as we talked, and the Spirit inspired me with comforting words to share with her.
We can accomplish what’s required of us through God’s power. “If thou art sorrowful, call on the Lord thy God with supplication, that your souls may be joyful” (Doctrine and Covenants 136:29). When I gave my trust and faith to God, He returned it with support and joy.

As you trust in the Lord and His goodness, the Almighty God will bless His children through you. Elder Hollings from Nevada learned that early in his mission. The day after he arrived in India, he traveled with Sister Funk and me to Rajahmundry, his first area. That afternoon Elder Hollings and Elder Ganaparam went to visit a Church member and her mother. The mother wanted to learn about the Church because she had seen how the gospel blessed the life of her daughter. Sister Funk joined them to provide fellowship. Because the lesson would be taught in English and the mother spoke only Telugu, a brother in the branch was there to interpret what was taught.

Elder Hollings’s assignment in his very first teaching appointment was to teach the First Vision, using the words of the Prophet Joseph. At that point in the lesson, he turned to Sister Funk and asked, “Should I say it word for word?” knowing it would be interpreted.

She replied, “Say it word for word so the Spirit can testify of what you say.”

When this new missionary sincerely taught the First Vision, using the words of the Prophet, the countenance of that dear sister changed. Tears appeared. As Elder Hollings finished that glorious message and before what he said could be interpreted, she asked through her tears in her native language, “May I be baptized? And will you teach my son?”

My young fellow servants, doors and hearts open daily to the gospel message—a message that brings hope and peace and joy to the children of God throughout the world. If you are humble and obedient and hearken to the voice of the Spirit, you will find great happiness in your service as a missionary. What a wonderful season it is to be a missionary—a time when the Lord is hastening His work!

I know of a returned missionary who thought he could take a peek at some pornography and not be hurt. One peek led to another and another. Pretty soon he was staying late at work and telling his wife he had a project to finish. His thoughts soon turned into actions. Before long, his life was destroyed. He could find no peace. He lost his job. He nearly lost his wife and children. He lost his temple blessings, his priesthood, and his membership in the Church. After nearly seven years of missed blessings, he was rebaptized and a year later had his priesthood blessings and ordinances restored. It was a rugged eight-year road he had to walk – all for a peek. None of us can afford to peek. As disciples of Christ, we must stand firm for the values and virtues of clean living that the Gospel of Jesus Christ teaches.

In the fall of 2022, I coached a community flag football team of kids from 4th grade to 6th grade. When we started the season, we were not all that good. When we ended the season, we were still not the best. However, I was very proud of my team who had put forth extreme effort and improved greatly over the course of the season. In our final game—the only game we won—the other team’s player was racing for the end zone and it looked hopeless for my team. Suddenly, I saw sprinting from the other side of the field one of my players who had not given up. He followed the other player all the way down the field, reaching the other team’s player just in time to pull the flag before the touchdown was scored. That was tenacity. Not giving up on defense was a principle we had worked on as a team over and over again in practices. More than anything else that was accomplished during the game eclipsing the mistakes we made, and more important than the end score were the efforts given by the players. If my team can cause such feelings of delight and happiness in me because of their efforts, think of how worthwhile it must be to our Heavenly Father to see our efforts to obey his commandments.

Emalyn, a 16-year-old young woman, described a favorite tradition she’s been doing since she was 7. “I participate in a live Nativity from Thanksgiving to Christmas,” she says. This is no simple gathering of siblings wearing bathrobes either, mind you! It’s a free community offering that’s been going on for many years.
Emalyn performs as the narrator in a live nativity that blesses thousands each Christmas.
Here’s a typical performance day: Emalyn starts at 9 a.m. with her mother and the main organizer. They spend six hours making 500 donuts for that evening’s guests, and then Emalyn dresses in costume to be the narrator. The live Nativity offers scenery, lights, animals for the manger, a cast of 20–30, and a 15-minute performance that is seen by thousands each year.
“The Spirit is so strong when we perform,” she says. “Last year a little boy I’d never met came up and gave me a hug and said, ‘This is exactly what I needed!’”

As a young man beginning my missionary service, I boarded an airplane headed to Australia. Feeling very alone, anxious, and inadequate but having committed to serve, I desperately needed reassurance that what I believed in was true. I prayed and read my scriptures earnestly, but as the flight progressed, my self-doubt intensified and my physical condition deteriorated. After I had been struggling for several hours, a flight attendant walked down the aisle and stopped next to my seat. He took the Book of Mormon I was reading from my hands. He looked at the cover and said, “That’s a great book!” then handed the book back to me and kept walking. I never saw him again.
While his words echoed in my ears, I distinctly heard and felt in my heart, “I am here, and I know where you are. Just do your best, for I will take care of the rest.” On that airplane above the Pacific Ocean, I received a personal witness through my study of the Book of Mormon and the promptings of the Holy Spirit that my Savior knew who I was and that the gospel was true.

During a recent fast and testimony meeting, I sat on a cushioned folding chair in our little branch building and tried to convince myself to go up and bear my testimony. I don’t necessarily get stage fright, but I don’t enjoy talking in front of everybody either. Part of me wanted to get up there, and the other part made up excuses not to. The words “I don’t even have a testimony” popped into my mind.
I quickly took those words back, if you can do that with thoughts, because I knew it wasn’t true. “Of course I have a testimony,” I said to myself. “It may not be an extremely great or strong testimony of every gospel topic, but I have a strong belief in some gospel principles.”
I started listing them in my mind. “I know that Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost love all of us. I believe that families are extremely important and that through the plan of salvation, families can live together forever.”
I had recently turned 14, and my mom told me with a smile, “Joseph Smith was 14 when he had the First Vision.” I knew this, but that simple sentence strengthened my testimony of Joseph Smith. I know that he was a true prophet called of God and that he translated the Book of Mormon and restored the gospel.
Not all of this came to mind right then, but in the days that followed I thought a lot about that Sunday. As with my testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith, my belief and testimony of other things didn’t grow just because of what I learned or heard but also through things that happened to me.
For example, last October my grandpa passed away. He had been sick with diabetes for a long time. His was the first funeral of a family member I’d been to, and it was a very sad time for my family and me. Being among all of my relatives during the funeral and knowing we would see Grandpa again strengthened my testimony that families are extremely important and play a key part in Heavenly Father’s plan. I know that because my mom and dad were sealed in the temple, our family can live together forever. I am so thankful for their choice.
This week my dad taught us a lesson about the Holy Ghost during family home evening. He listed several things we can do to bring the Holy Ghost into our hearts. Among them is bearing our testimonies. He said that it takes courage to bear testimony but that the Lord will bless you with the Holy Ghost for your bravery. This week is a fast Sunday, and I look forward to sharing my testimony with my branch.

In 1832 the Savior declared to the prophet Joseph Smith, “Behold, I will hasten my work in its time” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:73). Today, 193 years later, that hastening is evident in the work of the “gathering” occurring every day at the Tema Campus Institute Gathering Place in the Ghana Accra East Mission, where family history, missionary, and temple experiences converge to produce miracles.
The miracles in Tema began in September 2024 with the repurposing of an empty building that had formally housed the Ghana missionary training centre and two anchors: BYU Pathway and the Church Seminary/Institute program. Under the direction of two capable and visionary leaders, stake president Stephen Abu Jr. and Bishop Prince Mensah, multiple enrichment classes were added to the offerings available at the building. In less than a year, the influence of these programs grew tremendously, and the building with its programs became a powerful gathering place for the young single adults in the Tema Ghana Stake.
These offerings of spiritual and temporal instruction have attracted a consistent and increasing flow of students. These young single adults are between 18 and 35 years old, are predominantly male, and roughly half of them are “friends of the Church.” These young single adults come voluntarily every day, most of them at some expense and effort to make the trip, and they spend afternoons receiving this instruction after finishing required school classes or day jobs.
It was into this environment that a newly arrived single sister senior missionary was placed. Sister Betsy Thornton, from Utah, had accepted a calling to serve in the Ghana Accra East Mission. On her arrival, despite not having much experience in the subject, she willingly accepted the assignment to teach an institute family history class, having faith that Lord qualifies those He calls. With the aid of fellow institute instructor, Eric Osei Asare, help from some tech-savvy Pathway students, support from other resources, and by exercising a lot of patience, she put her shoulder to the wheel, and her class began to thrive.
Sister Thornton invited missionaries who were serving at the Tema Gathering Place to come teach about the importance of not only building FamilySearch trees but of also uniting those efforts with the blessings of the temple. As they learned about the importance of family history and began to build their trees, the students experienced great joy in discovering their ancestors and other family members on FamilySearch.org/Africa. In concert with the teachings of the temple, students began to be curious about the gospel of Jesus Christ. That curiosity turned into spiritual affirmations of truth and instilled in the members a desire to be baptised for their deceased loved ones. As for the friends, many of them felt the desire to be baptised themselves.
Recognizing the opportunity to build on this spiritual affirmation, Sister Thornton planned a visit the Accra Ghana Temple, where she would take her students to feel the power of the temple. Initially, 22 of the students signed up to go, but that number grew quickly as recently baptised members in the Tema Stake heard about the excursion and asked to join. From there, other young single adults, not wanting to miss out on such an opportunity, joined the group. Eventually, over 70 young single adults, both members and friends of the Church, committed to visit the temple.
On 13 June 2025, one-and-a-half busses filled with eager students pulled into the Accra Ghana Temple parking lot. The group was received by a crew of supportive area missionaries who assisted in hosting, teaching, and guiding at the temple. Following a group photo on the temple steps, the 22 Church members in the group, including seven new converts, were then ushered into the temple to participate in baptisms for their ancestors.
Plans were to take the remaining 50-plus students, friends of the Church, on a tour of the temple grounds, but in a wonderful and unexpected turn of events, a member of the temple presidency emerged and invited all of them to enter the temple waiting room, where he taught them about the nature of covenants and the blessings of the temple. It was truly a miraculous opportunity for each of them to receive counsel and absorb the peace available in the house of the Lord.
Words are barely adequate in describing the surprise, wonder, and reverence present in that experience. Many of the members and their friends later expressed their feelings about the temple, about how sacred, peaceful, and beautiful it was, and how they felt the presence of Jesus Christ and His love in His holy house.
Although the temple experience was the culmination of the trip, there remained other wonderful experiences for the students. Upon leaving the temple, they walked next door to the Christiansborg Stake Center, where students had the opportunity to hear from area family history and African history specialists. Some students were also able to work with specialists in the FamilySearch IT center.
Following those presentations, they had the opportunity to walk next door to the Ghana Accra Missionary Training Center. The privilege of entering this center was another life-changing experience. The new MTC president graciously greeted the group, bearing testimony about the work taking place there. Then, dividing the students into four smaller groups, MTC staff took the students for a real-time view of life there as a missionary. They toured the cafeteria, saw the outdoor field and exercise space, and peeked into the classrooms, where a number of languages were being taught. They noted the prophets’ names on classroom doors, photos on the walls that captured the history of the MTC and Church in Ghana, and marvelled at the diversity of missionaries there, commenting on the warmth, happiness, and spirit of the missionaries.
After a full and rewarding experience at the temple compound, the students piled back into the busses and headed home to Tema. This life-changing experience impacted both members and friends alike, as members felt closer to their deceased relatives and talked about preparations for serving missions, while friends began contemplating their own faith, many expressing a desire to join the Church. Several were even baptised in the days and weeks afterwards. As a result of the success of the excursion, the Tema center added another family history class for new students wanting to learn about these things, and another temple excursion was planned for August of the same year.
All who participated in this activity affirmed that the hand of the Lord is directing the affairs of the Church through programs such as FamilySearch, the Gathering Place, and other YSA programs. These programs strive to bolster the spiritual, educational, and inclusive community being cultivated at the Tema Campus Institute Gathering Place. The united efforts of all involved furthered the gathering of Israel through increased family history work, missionary participation, and temple ordinances. Those who are a part of this miraculous surge gratefully affirm that this is God’s time and He is directing the work at the Tema Campus Institute Gathering Place.

One school year I began to feel weighed down from the stress of life. During one of these stressful days, I prayed and read the Book of Mormon for 10 minutes. As I read, I felt an incredible warmth fill my heart. I felt loved, uplifted, and happy despite my trials. I felt an incredible peace I had never felt before. From this experience I finally understood what the Savior meant when He said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you” (John 14:27). The next few weeks, I had this experience multiple times, and it propelled me to move forward through my struggles.
Chloe K., age 18, Wisconsin, USA

George Q. Cannon had a large family. Forty-three children. It wasn't always easy to keep them straight, as I found out in a recollection of Collins Cannon, one of the younger sons. Here is what Collins wrote:

"I was about eight and one day I came upon Father and Uncle Angus M. on Main Street. Before I go further with this anecdote I must [explain that] Uncle Angus was a kisser. He kissed all and sundry, young and old, male and female alike, and it didn't matter whether it was on Main Street or wherever...Uncle Angus had grandson twins...They were called Jack and Chick. They were about my age...I had chanced upon Father and Uncle Angus and I was attempting to slide by unnoticed on account of my dread of the kissing ordeal...Angus spotted me, halted me and you guessed it—he kissed me...Father looked on and said, 'Angus, which is that, Jack or Chick?' My world tumbled about me...and I cried out, 'No, no, Pa! I ain't Jack or Chick! I'm Aunt Martha's little boy.'"

It was Sunday, and my family and I were attending the dedication services of a newly remodeled meetinghouse in our area. Just a few minutes before sacrament meeting, the stake president asked me to please drive to our ward building, three kilometers away, to retrieve an item he needed. I had just enough time to get there and back. While completing that simple errand, I had an experience that touched me spiritually—a wonderful reminder of what is important.
With just a few blocks left to go to return to the meeting, I saw ahead of me two bicycles, one large and the other quite a bit smaller, each being ridden very energetically. I recognized the cyclists at once. They were two people I knew well, a good brother from my ward and his young son. They were riding to church—just as they did every Sunday.
As I watched them, there came to my mind an image out of the future, when that boy—and his father too—will remember those bicycle rides. I thought, “What a great example this father is setting and what an eternal influence he is going to have on the precious son God has given him. That boy,” I reflected, “may grow up to cherish that experience, and perhaps he will repeat it when he becomes a father himself.”
As I caught up to them, there sprang to mind an image of my childhood memories of my own father, who used to carry me on the handlebar of his bicycle. The close relationship that develops from these kinds of experiences is a pleasure to have and tender to remember.
When I got to church, I greeted the bicycle riders with a smile and received the same in return as they expressed silent happiness to be attending church. At priesthood meeting that afternoon, I had a chance to express to this brother how impressed I had been with the picture of righteous fatherhood I had seen earlier. His face brightened, and perhaps he was surprised because what I described was such a common occurrence for him.

When my grandson Jack was 10, he played on a competitive soccer team. Jack talked with his parents and decided to honor the Sabbath and not to play in games on Sundays. He worried that he wasn’t getting better because he was missing those games. Jack’s little brother Charles knew he was worried. One day Charles said the family prayer. He asked Heavenly Father to help Jack not be worried about soccer. Charles knew that a great way to help his brother was to pray for him. He had faith that his prayer would help Jack.
We need help in this life, and Heavenly Father wants to give us that help. He loves us. He will listen when we pray!

When I started Ricks College as a 17 year-old freshman in September of 1965, I was here as a graduate of a very large high school just down the valley. Rexburg was a familiar place to me and I was comfortable coming here because my umbilical cord was stretched for only about 30 miles. (For those without a medical background, that means my mother was only 30 miles away.)
I was outwardly quite confident that I would soon be clamping that cord as I showed my parents and myself that I could stand on my own and succeed here.
Inwardly, however, I was scared. What if I can't do the homework? What about all that reading I've heard about? What if I sit home on Saturday night and watch Lawrence Welk re-runs because no one will go out with me? And the big one that scared me most: What if I'm just not college material?
My fears were heightened as I came to the registration process. I must explain something about the registration process in 1965. The word computer in those days, meant someone who calculates something (we also called them nerds) and on-line was where you hoped the clothes were after a windstorm.
The registration process back then consisted of a long line of tables where the students came at their appointed times and picked up cards for classes they wanted to take. They would finish by turning the cards in at another table to see if everything fit. If it didn't, they started over again. Mine didn't work the first few times, and it took the help of a wonderful advisor to get me through the process.
I soon found that this campus was really a very friendly place and that the homework was do-able if I applied myself. The staff and faculty were all oriented toward helping students and I found that they were just extensions of a loving Heavenly Father who was always there for me. I testify to you that none of that has changed.
I had many glorious experiences here and was involved in many extra-curricular activities. My sophomore year I was invited to be a co-chairman of a springtime event they called R-Week. It was similar in some ways to Homecoming in that there was a parade, and a concert, and a dance, and whitewashing the AR on the North Menan Butte.
The biggest event of the week was the Friday afternoon competitions on the football field where clubs and individuals would compete. The crowning event was to be a tug-of-war, with the losing side being dragged through a fire hose. (Our fun was simple in those days!) School was to be dismissed for the afternoon and the whole student body would turn out.
We started the week with glorious April weather, but as Friday approached cloudy days appeared and rain was forecast.
Those of us on the R-Week Committee had been working for several months to be ready for this event and our spirits plummeted as we saw the predicted weather move in. On Thursday evening, as the wind and rain threatened to spoil Friday's field events, our concerned committee counseled together and decided we had to have the Lord's help if the day were to be saved. We decided to begin a fast and to meet the next day before noon for prayer.
The next morning dawned, raining and cold. As I went about my morning classes, I felt as gloomy as the weather. I wondered how Heavenly Father could let this happen when we had worked so hard, and especially since we were now fasting for His help. When our committee met, I could see the same doubts in each of them. We knelt together and poured out our hearts to the Lord.
We ended the prayer and looked out the window to ongoing rain. We decided that we had better act on our faith so we went to the field to continue our preparations.
As the events were to start at 1 p.m., we were standing on the field at about 12:00, and we watched as the rain stopped, the clouds over this part of Rexburg parted, and the sun shone through, drying the football field. The surrounding skies were still cloud-filled with rain here and there in the distance, but we started our competitions that day on a dry, sun-filled field.
As the events came to a close several hours later, our committee watched in awe as the clouds closed in and the wind and rain started again. We looked at the sky and then at each other and felt immense gratitude that our faith had been confirmed.
I'm certain that the miracle went unnoticed by many of the student body that day, but those of us who had worked behind the scenes knew that God had answered our prayers.
There is still, somewhere in the historical files of this institution, a two page summary written by a humbled young R-Week Co-chairman, testifying to future student leaders (and anyone else who would read it) that God indeed intervenes in the affairs of men.

“Let me take just a moment to mention a little incident that made an impression upon me when I was a boy. …

“It was on a summer day early in the morning. I was standing near the window. The curtains obstructed me from two little creatures out on the lawn. One was a large bird and the other a little bird, obviously just out of the nest. I saw the larger bird hop out on the lawn, then thump his feet and cock his head. He drew a big fat worm out of the lawn and came hopping back. The little bird opened its bill wide, but the big bird swallowed the worm.

“Then I saw the big bird fly up into a tree. He pecked at the bark for a little while and came back with a big bug in his mouth. The little bird opened his beak wide, but the big bird swallowed the bug. There was squawking in protest.

“The big bird flew away, and I didn’t see it again, but I watched the little bird. After a while, the little bird hopped out on the lawn, thumped its feet, cocked its head, and pulled a big worm out of the lawn.

“God bless the good people who teach our children and our youth” (“A Teacher,” Ensign, July 1972, 85).

Alma Elizabeth, with her family and the other Saints, took a long train trip to Iowa. There they joined wagon trains going to Utah. She walked the entire way, except when she got into a wagon to cross a deep river.
Alma Elizabeth’s father had trouble walking. In Sweden he had been a concert violinist and an orchestra director. Then rheumatism crippled him. Slowly he learned to use his hands and feet again, but it was difficult and painful. Elizabeth’s father was unable to keep up with the wagon train, and he insisted that his family go on ahead, promising to catch up with them.
Her father struggled on until he spotted a light. It was a camp of soldiers on their way to the Civil War. One soldier spoke Swedish. When they learned that Alma Elizabeth’s father was a musician, they found a violin and he played it for them. In the morning they took him on horseback and caught up with the wagon train.

I didn’t realize that everyone didn’t know that when I first left home. I was in Georgia and a girl asked me to tell her about the Mormon church and what I liked about it and what I believed. I told her the obvious things about the Word of Wisdom, tithing, and going to church on Sunday. She threw her hands in the air and exclaimed, “Merciful heavens! I want to be religious and hear a good sermon on Sunday, but I’m certainly not going to let it interfere with my life.”

She didn’t know about the plan of salvation—that life is a part of eternity, as much as any part before we came or after we leave. It is all one round whole of the plan of salvation.

Years ago, when I was a stake president in Paris, France, I was told that President Gordon B. Hinckley was coming to Paris for a couple of days and I was going to be his driver. I would pick him up at the airport and take him to his hotel so he could rest. The next day I would take him to do a number of visits. One visit he wanted to make was to a U.S. military cemetery, where his brother, who died of influenza during World War I, is buried.
But when I picked up President Hinckley, he didn’t look very tired. He held his cane up and said, “President Caussé! Let’s go to work!”
He wanted to go to the cemetery right away. Unfortunately, I had arranged with the director to go there the next day, so when we arrived, it was closed and nobody was there.
The next day, we were so busy that we didn’t have time to go back to the cemetery. That evening, President Hinckley handed me a $10 (US) bill and said, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to go to the cemetery. I would be very grateful if you could buy flowers and put them on my brother’s grave.”
I bought flowers, but I didn’t use that bill. The following Sunday afternoon, I went with my family and put the flowers on the grave. We took a picture of our family in front of the grave with all the flowers and sent it to President Hinckley.
I still have that $10 bill. It’s in my scriptures. If I were to ask, “What is the value of this bill?” most people would say, “Ten dollars.” But for me, it’s worth far more. This bill was worth ten dollars, but for me, it’s priceless now. It’s a memory of a moment I had with a prophet of God.

One of the wealthiest men in the Church today is Jon Huntsman. Many years ago, just after Jon and Karen were married and living in a small apartment in Los Angeles, they decided to donate to charity a certain amount of money every month. That amount of money represented a sizeable percentage of their meager monthly income. Brother Huntsman indicated in an interview that it was this decision, early in their marriage, that prepared them to be able to give when they had great wealth. They continue today to be major philanthropists, often in quiet and confidential ways.

When I turned 12, my beloved father, Moise Kouassi Avana, passed away, leaving behind my mother, my three siblings and me. I was devastated and did not anticipate the pain and emptiness his passing would leave in my life. I mourned my father every day, yearning for the truth about whether I could see him again, until I was introduced to the restored gospel by a fellow student, Laure, in high school.
In a religious debate with classmates, Laure boldly stated, “There is only one true Church upon the surface of the earth.” Intrigued, I approached her immediately, asking, “Where is this church you spoke about? I challenge you to accompany me there this Sunday to see if what you proclaimed is true”.
On October 3, 2010, the first Sunday of the month, I went and was warmly welcomed. I felt what I later recognized to be the Holy Ghost. Subsequently, I attended church multiple times, received teachings from full-time missionaries about the plan of salvation, and learned of the possibility of seeing my father again by embracing the restored gospel.
One day, I knelt in prayer, something I had never done, and poured out my heart to my Father in Heaven. In response, I received a personal testimony that the Prophet Joseph Smith was truly called of God, and that the Book of Mormon is powerful evidence of the Restoration. This experience set me on the path of conversion, and on October 31, 2010, I was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I received the promise that I would be reunited with my late father if I kept my covenants and prepared to perform proxy baptism for him in the temple.
At the end of 2014, I read Doctrine and Covenants 31:2–3 that states. “I will bless you and your family . . . and the day cometh that they will believe and know the truth and be one with you in my church.
“Lift up your heart and rejoice, for the hour of your mission is come; and your tongue shall be loosed, and you shall declare glad tidings of great joy unto this generation.”
I knew that I had to fulfill the priesthood duty by serving a full-time mission. I informed my siblings and my mother of my desire to serve. My mother initially opposed the idea and threatened to disown me if I left. Through prayer and fasting, she eventually relented. I was called to serve in the Accra Ghana Mission, and the promise of seeing my father again became a reality after he was baptized by proxy in the Accra Ghana Temple.
In 2016, one night while on my mission, after praying and falling asleep, I had a dream in which a tall man dressed in white, whom I couldn’t clearly see, appeared to me. As he drew nearer, I realized it was my father. His presence filled me with immense joy, and he imparted many teachings to me, instructing me to write them down. The next day, as I reviewed my journal, I found that much of what he had taught me was recorded therein. My joy was full of the truth that many of the things he shared lightened and eased my progress on the covenant path.
Upon completing my mission, countless blessings such as entering the new and everlasting covenant of marriage, serving in the missionary training center and the temple, and having an eternal family served as evidence of the fulfillment of the plan of salvation in my life, as well as in the lives of my wife and children. Being able to baptize my mother and seeing my older sister join the Church in the same year, 2023, attested to me of the truth that Heavenly Father always pours His blessings and fulfills the promises He makes to His covenant-keeping children.
I am grateful to the young boy, Joseph Smith, who without hesitation, prayed to a loving Father in Heaven. That prayer led to the reopening of the heavens and brought on earth the gift of the restored gospel to all of God’s children, which gospel turned my heart to my parents. I am looking forward to being sealed to them for eternity. I know that Heavenly Father loves me and has made all truths available to me and to the rest of my brothers and sisters through the Atonement of His Only Begotten Son, even Jesus Christ. These truths and blessings in my life are the anchor of my testimony and my faith in the Lord. I know without any doubt that the Book of Mormon is true, and we have a living prophet, chosen by God, on earth.