Gospel Story Finder

Illustration by Allen Garns
I was in the middle of a difficult year teaching 13- and 14-year-olds. I had just come home from a frustrating meeting with the assistant principal going over a recent evaluation. Being a new teacher and needing to create most of my lessons, I found myself struggling to keep the students on task and interested. Basically the conversation came down to the need for me to force my students to make a choice—get on task or get in trouble—and to follow through with my warnings.
I left the conference feeling down and overwhelmed. I made it a point to make this meeting the question of the day as I studied my scriptures the next day. Incredibly, answers came to me as I read from the Book of Mormon.
I prayed to learn from the scriptures that morning how to be a better teacher. The Holy Ghost taught me as I read about Captain Moroni in Alma 44. At this point in the story, Captain Moroni and the Nephites had surrounded the Lamanites at the river Sidon and scared them to the point of making the Lamanites drop their weapons. I continued to read, thinking of how I’d like to be like Captain Moroni in the classroom: commanding, confident, and successful.
I read through the dialogue and noticed Moroni telling Zerahemnah and the Lamanites that they were being forced to make a choice: “Deliver up your weapons of war unto us, and … we will spare your lives, if ye will go your way and come not again to war against us” or else “if ye do not this, … I will command my men that they shall fall upon you” (Alma 44:6, 7). I realized he was doing what my administrator had told me to do! “Give them two choices, and follow through,” he had said. With that in mind, I adopted Moroni’s motto, “Behold, we will end the conflict” (Alma 44:10).
Armed with the principles I had learned in a scripture story about one of my heroes, I returned to class confident with my battle plan. I happened to have a Captain Moroni figurine, and he sat in my shirt pocket the rest of the school year as a reminder of how Captain Moroni had taught me to manage a middle school classroom. As I gave my students two choices, their behavior improved, they did their work, and we got along better. The year finished, and it was still hard, but with the answered prayer and the power of the scriptures, I was able to “end the conflict.”

I took the opportunity to hike two amazing hikes with my daughter this year. One of those hikes was Table Rock.

I had always heard of this place, but this was my first attempt at this hike. I never hurt so badly at a physical event in my life. My muscles started cramping about four miles in, with three miles left to go. I found out I don't like straight-off edges and slippery, rocky slopes. I found myself at times clinging to rocks, not able to move from the fear that was setting in. I thought to myself, "This is beautiful right here. I bet the top isn't that much grander." I asked a couple of people coming back down how it was, and their comment was they wanted to quit. But they were so glad they didn't, because it was amazing.

Then something inside starting saying, "What if this is symbolic of your journey to the celestial kingdom?" Am I willing to settle for something less? I kept praying for divine help to work through the pain and the crippling fear I was experiencing, and then came this life lesson. I had made the decision to do this hike. I did not want to fail. If I did not look ahead or behind and I only focused on what was in front of me at that very moment, keeping a prayer in my heart, I was able to move forward one step at a time until I pulled myself over the top of that rock.

The view was breathtaking, literally, and I could not hold back the tears of accomplishment. I could do hard things and was all the better for it.

At age 25, I found myself in a verbally abusive relationship. I’d become less active in the Church, but when I finally left my boyfriend, I decided to go back to attending church regularly. I wanted to be on the straight and narrow path again. Little did I know, though, that when I made that decision, I was already pregnant.
I decided to stay true to my choice to be active again in the Church, but I didn’t really want to be pregnant and go to church where I lived. I wanted to attend a ward in a different city, so I went there one Sunday. It was the day of the Primary sacrament meeting presentation. As the children talked about how Heavenly Father always loves us, I felt His love too. That message was a great blessing for me that day.
After the meeting, I asked the bishop if I could attend that ward given my situation. He advised me to go to the ward within my boundaries. I didn’t want to, but he assured me I’d be OK, and I was.
When I told my bishop about my pregnancy, he was so helpful. It was a blessing to meet with him regularly. As I talked with him about my options for the baby, he wanted me to know that he was there to represent the Lord in my repentance process but would not tell me what decision to make about raising or placing my baby. As we were studying Doctrine and Covenants 9:8–9, my bishop asked me to pray and tell Heavenly Father what I really wanted—he encouraged me to make a decision and seek confirmation from the Lord.
So I went home and prayed. I told Heavenly Father all the amazing reasons why I would be the best mom for this baby, and I asked to know if that decision was right. The next day, everything in life felt like it was falling apart. For instance, I lost my medical insurance, and my car broke down.
At church the following Sunday, I told my bishop how life seemed to fall apart after I prayed about my decision. Because of what had happened after my prayer, my bishop suggested that I consider a different decision and seek confirmation about it instead.
While working with my bishop, I had considered placing the baby for adoption and had narrowed down the potential adoptive families to two couples. The bishop suggested that I select one of the two couples and pray about that decision to ask if this little guy needed to go with them.
I went home and reluctantly prayed, asking Heavenly Father if the couple I had chosen were the ones my child needed. The next morning, a connection my sister made led to a miracle solution for my insurance. I felt this was a confirmation that adoption was the right path for me, and I remember thinking this child could have so much more with a different family.
I knew that Heavenly Father would help me with this decision. Part of me hoped this choice would be like the story of Abraham and Isaac (see Genesis 22)—that when it came time for me to place my son for adoption, God would tell me I didn’t need to do it anymore. But He didn’t. I needed to place my son with a wonderful family.
As I sat in the hospital with my new little bundle of joy, I turned on the TV. General conference happened to be on. I heard a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles entitled “None Were with Him.” He taught that “because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so.”1 I closed my eyes and told Heavenly Father that I felt so alone, and then I felt so much love from Him.
After the placement, I felt completely empty. But in the back of my mind, I still knew I wasn’t alone. I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were with me, as Elder Holland had taught. I prepared for the temple and received my endowment. I was obeying the commandments, and I was determined I would never let myself be deceived into wrong choices again.
But years later, I was deceived again and ended up in another abusive relationship. When I broke away, I found out I was pregnant again. I didn’t want to place the baby. I was older than before, and I felt like I could be a good mom. I met with my bishop and a social worker. I started following the same process that I had before in praying about adoption, but nothing ever seemed to click. It always felt difficult.
I still went to church. Sometimes ward members would say they were surprised to see me there pregnant, which hurt a little. But I still went every week. I wanted people to see that what I had done reflected a choice I had made but that it didn’t define who I was. I worked with my bishop to move forward.
As my due date grew closer, I started to panic. With my first baby, I’d had a plan, but this one was so different. I didn’t feel like I was receiving a strong answer regarding any option for my baby. I let the couple whom I had placed my first baby with know that I was pregnant but unsure of whether I would place, and that if I did place, I would want them to raise this baby as well.
After I had the baby, I still felt unsure. Then my doctor came in to check on us and said, “I don’t know if you’ll be able to have children again, so love this little one.” While that may not be the answer for everyone, I felt the Spirit confirm that this was the right choice for me. After panicking for nine months, I felt peace. I let the couple know that I had decided to parent my daughter.
I wanted to be the best mom I could be, and I knew that the only way to do that was staying close to family and the Lord’s Church. I knew that what I had learned in the gospel of Jesus Christ would help her like it had helped me.
With my pregnancies, was one decision easier than the other? No. Both options were hard—just different kinds of hard, as were the joys. With my daughter, she is an incredible delight to me. Yet being a single mother is hard. With the son I placed, I still think about him and hope he’s happy throughout his life, but I am not as involved in his day-to-day happenings. When I was pregnant with him, I couldn’t see what Heavenly Father had in mind for him. But now I can see it, and I know he’s where he needs to be.
We can’t know beforehand what placing or single parenting will be like. But we can always trust in the Lord.
As part of my repentance, I remember hearing my bishop say, “Your sins are forgiven.” I felt such great relief, and I realized that the Atonement of Jesus Christ is real. I would remember my sin, but from that moment on, my Savior, Jesus Christ, would remember it no more (see Doctrine and Covenants 58:42). I knew that He wanted me to move forward to become a better person, to become what He sees I can be. That’s what I strive to do every day—to become even closer to Him and to hold ever tighter to the iron rod (see 1 Nephi 15:23–24; see also 1 Nephi 11:25).
One of my favorite scriptures reads, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). I am grateful for Heavenly Father’s plan of redemption.
I currently serve as my ward’s Young Women president. One principle I try to help the young women learn is that regardless of any choices they make, there is no place where they are out of Heavenly Father’s reach. As Elder Holland taught: “However many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”2
I hope that the young women in my ward—and everyone—remember that truth. It has blessed my life immeasurably, and the joys I now feel in living the gospel have become an even greater strength to me.

I have always loved the story of the son of King Louis XVI of France because he had an unshakable knowledge of his identity. As a young man, he was kidnapped by evil men who had dethroned his father, the king. These men knew that if they could destroy him morally, he would not be heir to the throne. For six months they subjected him to every vile thing life had to offer, and yet he never yielded under pressure. This puzzled his captors, and after doing everything they could think of, they asked him why he had such great moral strength. His reply was simple. He said, “I cannot do what you ask, for I was born to be a king.”12

My family and I recently had a simple but impressive experience with one of God’s creations. I gave my wife, Barbara, a dozen rosebuds for a valentine. They were a delicate shade of peach and had a rich scent. Barbara put them into a vase and placed them on the table in our family room. As the days passed, the family watched the blossoms unfold from buds to full flowers.
As I watched this miracle, I became curious about roses. I was amazed to learn from a botanist friend that there are thousands of varieties of roses. Inside each rose is a storehouse of genetic coding that develops a seed or a slip into roots, stems, thorns, leaves, colors, and blooms.
This experience led me to consider the myriad forms of plant and animal life that thrive in astounding balance upon the earth. My esteem for our little roses took on an element of wonder and reverence. I pondered the power of the Creative Genius who lovingly provided such marvels for His children. I thought about how important it is for every human soul to see and appreciate the glory and grandeur of God in everything about us.

In Salt Lake City, a stake missionary, while eating lunch at a counter, met a young tourist. He asked him what he knew about the Mormon church and whether he would like to know more; the young tourist said he would like to know more. During the next few days the stake missionaries gave him the discussions. At a later time, he was baptized as a result of this. And incidentally, the Utah Mission is one of the leading missions of the Church insofar as convert baptisms per missionary is concerned.

I know many of you living here on campus will have wonderful learning experiences. I would like to share two examples with you. In March 1998 our housing office received this letter,
"I was a student there in l985, when I arrived, I was given one too many blankets. When I checked out, I was only required to turn in the one. I took the other blanket with me when I returned home. I can't explain my actions. It was wrong. I am sorry. I recently came across the blanket at my parent's home in some old storage and felt the only way to right the wrong was to return it. I ask for your forgiveness and hope you will accept my apology and find use again for the blanket."

Winfred was helping Jajja (Grandma) make dinner.
“Mmm, I love matoke,” Jajja said.
“Me too,” Winfred said. “It’s one of my favorite meals! I like the green bananas. And the peppers and tomatoes. But the best part is the sauce.”
“That’s because the sauce combines all the flavors into one,” Jajja said.
They kept cutting vegetables. Then Winfred sighed.
“Jajja,” she said, “how do you stay so happy all the time?”
“I try to,” Jajja said. “But I’m not happy all the time. Sadness is a part of life. Are you sad right now?”
Winfred nodded. “I miss Taata (Daddy), because he’s working far away. And I miss school, because we can’t go right now. And I miss my friends from church.”
“It’s OK to feel sad about those things,” Jajja said. “Life is not always easy. But when I’m sad, I try to follow my recipe for happiness.”
“Your recipe?”
“Just like I have a recipe for matoke, I have a recipe for happiness. Sometimes sadness is too big to go away right away. But often I find that my recipe is just what I needed to feel better.”
“What is your recipe?”
Jajja smiled. “Why don’t you see if you can figure out a recipe for yourself? Then you can tell me about it.”
That night when Winfred prayed, she knew Heavenly Father was listening. She realized that prayer made her happy! She got a piece of paper and wrote, Winfred’s Recipe for Happiness. 1. Pray. Then she went to sleep.
The next morning she read her Book of Mormon. Reading the scriptures made her happy too. She found her paper and wrote, 2. Read scriptures. Then she looked at the scripture she had opened to: “Believe in Christ” (2 Nephi 33:10).
Winfred added another note: 3. Have faith in Jesus Christ.
Winfred thought about how nice Jajja was to let her visit. Winfred found Jajja and said, “Thank you for letting me stay with you.”
Saying thank you made Winfred feel good. She wrote on her paper again. 4. Be grateful.
Then Winfred asked her neighbors if the younger children could come and play. She brought her little sister, Milfred, and her little brother, Alfred. When they were done playing, she invited the children to read with her. Jajja cut up a watermelon for everyone to share.
Later Winfred went to visit her friend named Happy. Together, they washed the dishes for Happy’s mother. Then they swept the floor. It was fun to help!
When evening came, Winfred helped her siblings with their homework. She studied the alphabet with Milfred. She helped Alfred with his math.
That night, Winfred talked to Jajja again.
“I feel much better today! I think I found my recipe for happiness.”
“Wonderful! Tell me,” said Jajja.
“Winfred’s Recipe for Happiness,” she read. “1. Pray. 2. Read scriptures. 3. Have faith in Jesus Christ. 4. Be grateful.”
“That is a marvelous recipe,” Jajja said. “But I think you may have forgotten something. What else made you happy today?”
Winfred thought for a minute. “Well, I had fun playing with the little children. And helping Happy and her mother. And studying with Milfred and Alfred. Wait … that’s it! Helping others is the last ingredient.”
“That’s right,” Jajja said. “Serving others is like the sauce—it combines all the other good things into one.”
“That’s a good recipe.” Winfred grinned. “I want to try it again tomorrow.”

Another example comes from the ministry of the Prophet Joseph Smith. In 1833 the Prophet accompanied Freeman Nickerson to Canada to visit his sons Freeman and Moses. They were received rudely by young Freeman. He said, “Father, . . . I had just about as soon you had brought into my home a nest of scorpions and turned them loose upon us. . . . I know all about Joe Smith . . . ; the papers are full of him and his works, and I want none of either. . . . But, . . . I’ll welcome them for your sake.”

Two days passed. Relations became more cordial, but there were no attempts to discuss religion. Freeman had boasted to his wife how he could handle Joe Smith.

On the evening of the second day, Freeman invited everyone to the living room. “He threw the family Bible on to the table . . . with the challenging remark: ‘There! Now go to it!’”

The Prophet did not “go to” the Bible. “Instead, he related his own dramatic experiences, . . . told with the utmost simplicity, but with great earnestness.”

Freeman apologized for his rudeness. Before the Prophet left town, 14 people, including the Nickerson brothers, were baptized by the Prophet. (Taken from John Henry Evans, Joseph Smith, an American Prophet [New York: Macmillan, 1936], 86–88.)

Soon I had brought many names to the temple, but I still questioned if my ancestors on the other side of the veil were accepting these ordinances. I wondered if I was making a difference.
So I prayed for reassurance. And the next time I went to the temple, as I was finishing a sealing for one of my ancestors, the temple sealer turned to me with tears in his eyes. He told me that he could feel my ancestor’s excitement in receiving the ordinance.
I knew that God had answered my prayer and that my proxy work was indeed making a difference.

The deacons and teachers of the Sandton Ward, Sandton South Africa Stake, had a rare opportunity to explore a game preserve and learn to live, for three days, with nature as it exists in this rugged and beautiful part of the world.
The group, including the young men and their leaders, met a guide who accompanied them into the Doorndraai Dam Nature Reserve. The game park had a variety of wild animals ranging from leopards to mongeese, from giraffes to hyenas. The group had to truck in containers of water as well as food and equipment for their stay.
The first night, as darkness fell and as the campfire burned low, each member of the group was assigned an hour watch. A schedule of night watches is necessary in an area where large animals prowl. For some, the strange noises and the stories about prowling hyenas and leopards did not allow for a restful night.
The next morning the group set off on a hike. The guide pointed out plants, birds, and game. They often came across such animals as zebra, wildebeest, impala, water buck, eland, warthogs, and monkeys.
After the day’s exercise, no one had trouble sleeping the second night. The hour assigned to night watch was a welcome time to be alone, listen to the sounds of the preserve, and reflect on a loving Heavenly Father’s creations.
Heading for home, the young men packed up, then obliterated all signs of their camp. They were leaving the preserve as they had found it, except for the new appreciation of nature each one carried home.

As a full-time missionary in the Ukraine Donetsk Mission, I learned that one of the keys to effective missionary work is friendship and understanding between companions. In one of my areas, my companion and I lacked such unity. We were both at fault. Satan noticed a small fissure in our relationship, and with our help he gradually turned it into a ravine.
Soon we, who were called to carry love and salvation to others, began to feel real enmity toward one another. And we were unhappy, deprived of the Spirit’s help, which is so necessary in the Lord’s work. We both wanted to change, but we simply did not soften our hearts with sincere repentance.
How terrible was my soul’s torment. Every evening I prayed long, tearful pleas for help, but still I did not understand my companion. I hated my weakness and pride, yet I could not cross the barrier between us.
“Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up” (Eccl. 4:9–10).
In two months our companionship ended, but the memory of not overcoming this trial remained with me. I continued to pray, asking the Father to soften my heart and instill in me the spirit of forgiveness.
That sister and I still served in the same city. We met fairly often at conferences and other activities, but we always avoided even looking at each other.
Apparently, during one zone meeting, I was ready to fully accept the gift of forgiveness. As our zone leader said the closing prayer, I felt the power of the Holy Ghost. I was filled with unusual love and tenderness toward my former companion. In my head and heart sounded the message: She is also loved by Him; she also suffers; she also strives for perfection. She is my sister; we have the same goals and values. How is it I didn’t notice that I long ago forgave her? I love her! Again and again I listened to my feelings: Yes, I love her! We will change together!
I wanted only one thing—to tell her of my love and to ask for her forgiveness. I did not think about how she would react; I wanted only for her to see the sincerity in my eyes.
I asked if I could speak with her alone. I told her about my long torment, my prayers, and finally about my feelings that day. From her eyes poured tears of joy and cleansing. She hugged me and said, “Thank you. I have waited so long. I wanted to take the first step myself, but I did not think you would accept it.”
“And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and kissed him: and they wept” (Gen. 33:4).

President Quintana knows the importance of finding friends at church. The night of his baptism at age 18, his best friend told him he would never visit him again if he joined the Church. Ten minutes before the service began, Guillermo decided to go ahead anyway and left for the meetinghouse. “I lost my dearest friend that night,” he recalls. However, within two weeks he met the woman who later became his wife, and she became the friend who sustained him during his mission.

When I was 13, my mother decided to return to her church. I went with her every Sunday for several months and soon joined the church’s youth group. I loved many things about this church, but I always felt like there was something missing. I continued to go until one day at a youth activity the other youth found out I was not a member of the church. The teenagers in the group began shunning me, and I eventually stopped going to church altogether.

Later, in high school, I took a comparative religions course. I learned a lot about many religions and realized there are a lot of good people with the best of intentions. But no religion ever seemed quite right.

I had convinced myself that no church was right and decided to live by my conscience, read the Bible (by this time I had bought my own), and do my best to live in accordance with the teachings of Jesus Christ. After all, no one in my family went to church, and they were all honest, good people.

In May of 2000, after seeing a movie about the life of Jesus Christ, I was so deeply touched that I earnestly prayed to God. I knew if I was patient, while continuing to do my best to follow Christ, I would receive answers to my prayers. I faced many tests in the months that followed. Through these tests, I became better at receiving the Spirit’s promptings.

Later that year I felt I should go to the visitors’ center at the Washington D.C. Temple to see the Christmas lights. I had been to the visitors’ center to see the lights before but had never inquired about the Church or its beliefs.

As I strolled through the visitors’ center, looking at the many displays, I thought of my cousin and another friend who were planning to serve missions for this church. I had studied about many religions but never this one. I was a little curious.

In my head I asked, expecting no answer, “Why in the world would those two men, or anyone for that matter, give up two years to serve missions—and at their own expense?” Much to my surprise, I received a humbling response. The soft whispers of the Spirit pierced my heart as my eyes fell upon a replica of gold plates. I was drawn to them. As I looked at them, I felt a powerful feeling of love, safety, and comfort, and in my mind I heard the words, “These are important. Learn about them.”

Immediately, I found a missionary and asked her about the plates. She told me about Joseph Smith translating the Book of Mormon. She also suggested I meet with the missionaries, but I declined.

The next day I went to the library to read all I could about the plates and the Church. I bought a copy of the Book of Mormon from a used-book store and began reading. I also read about the Church, but I wanted to learn more, so I decided to attend a church meeting.

I knew if I studied and prayed, God would confirm to me that this is the right church. So that’s what I did. I watched and waited patiently. And sure enough, my prayers were answered. On March 25, 2001, I was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

This is the Church of Jesus Christ. There are many good churches with many good people, but The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the church of our Lord and Savior, and it is the church with which our Heavenly Father is well pleased (see D&C 1:30). Our Heavenly Father loves us, has a plan for us, and will guide us back to Him if we earnestly seek Him.

Carter snarled and growled in the backseat of the car. He could see his reflection in the rearview mirror. He looked just like a Tyrannosaurus rex! Carter held up two fingers like claws and turned to his brothers.
“Are you excited to see the dinosaurs?” he growled.
McKay and Stockton raised their fingers like claws and roared, “Yes!”
Carter’s family was going to the museum to see the new T. rex fossil on display. Carter and his brothers were excited to see the skeleton of a real dinosaur. Carter was especially excited because he wanted to get a dinosaur T-shirt from the museum gift shop.
When the family arrived at the museum, Carter, McKay, and Stockton looked at everything, sometimes twice. They pushed buttons that roared different dinosaur roars. They stacked wooden dinosaur eggs into dinosaur nests. But best of all was the T. rex fossil.
The skeleton was huge! The dinosaur’s clawed toes were bigger than Carter’s whole head. Carter couldn’t decide between smiling because he was so happy or snarling like a dinosaur.
On the way out of the museum, Dad took Carter into the gift shop. “I can tell you liked seeing that dinosaur,” he said. “Pick out a T-shirt to share with your brothers to remember the fun we had together today.”
Carter looked through all the shirts carefully. He chose a black one with a T. rex skull baring its teeth, just like the one in the museum.
In the car, Carter was so excited that he put the T-shirt on over his regular shirt right away.
“You picked the best one!” McKay said.
“It’s for all of us to share,” Carter said. He leaned back so McKay could see the T. rex’s teeth better. “But I really want to wear it tomorrow so I can show my friends at school.”
“Sure you can,” McKay said. “I know how much you wanted a T. rex shirt.”
Carter settled back in his seat and thought about all the things he could tell his friends about the museum. He thought about how much he and his brothers had liked the dinosaur. Then he thought that McKay would probably want to wear the shirt to school too so he could tell his friends about the great day they had.
Carter decided he would love to see McKay happy, so as soon as they got home he took off the shirt and handed it to McKay. “You wear it to school tomorrow, McKay!” he said.
“Really?” McKay asked.
“I know you like T. rex too. I can wear it the next day.”
“Wow, thanks!” McKay hugged Carter and bounded out of the room to try on the shirt.
Carter felt warm and happy knowing he had made McKay so happy.
“I was happy at the museum, and I was happy wearing the T. rex T-shirt,” Carter thought. “But now I’m the happiest of all!”

When I returned from my mission, I knew next to nothing about marriage or raising a family, nor how to provide a living for them. However, I knew that was what God expected of me.

I prayed with all the faith I could muster and received assurance that He would help me with this, just as He had helped me with the language. So I went ahead.

Now, more than fifty years later, our marriage and our family is strong and fulfilling and ever-expanding and I love my wife, Jean, and my family more than ever. There have been ups and downs, but we have survived and been able to provide the basics and beyond.

During this time I was blessed with so many people who would tell me about what they learned each Sunday at church. One of those people was Stephanie. She had been living in Italy when my uncle joined the Church, but she had returned to her home in the United States. My uncle thought it would be good for us to write to each other, so I added her as a friend on Facebook.

Even though we had never met in person, I will always be grateful to her for helping me build my faith and learn more about the gospel of Jesus Christ. She wrote to me almost every Sunday and told me everything she learned in church and then would answer my questions. She was a great friend to me.

I express gratitude for a living prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley. Last November he visited many South American countries, including Chile. That same week Chile hosted an important summit meeting for all nations of Latin America. There were presidents and dignitaries from 16 different countries. Streets in the areas where they stayed and met were barricaded. Day and night, sirens wailed and red lights flashed to make way for those men as they traveled back and forth from their meetings. In the midst of all the commotion, President Hinckley arrived. There was no fanfare and no special welcome, recognition, or privilege extended to him. Two vans left the airport and maneuvered through the streets of Santiago, one carrying the Lord’s living prophet. At the hotel there were police and guards to protect the summit visitors, while President Hinckley, with his family and others, entered unnoticed.

The next day, as President Hinckley spoke to over 50,000 Saints and testified of Christ and of His Church, one could feel his conviction. He told all present that he wanted them to remember that they had heard Gordon B. Hinckley say that God lives and Jesus is the Christ. He counseled the Saints to put their lives in order, to teach their children the ways of the Lord, and to form eternal families by being sealed in the temple. At the conclusion of the conference, with tears in their eyes and a testimony in their hearts that here, truly, was a prophet of God on earth, the vast congregation stood and waved white handkerchiefs in farewell. President Hinckley took his handkerchief from his pocket and with love returned their farewell. I know, as those many Saints in Chile and throughout the world know, that President Gordon B. Hinckley is the living prophet of God on earth. I am grateful for him and for his example.

I went into a hospital in New Zealand one day to bless a woman who didn’t belong to the Church. She was dying. We all knew she was dying. The doctors had even said so. She was having her farewell party.

That’s one thing I like about the natives. When you go, they give you a farewell party. They all gather around. They send messages over to the other side: “When you get over there, tell my mother I’m trying to do my best; I’m not so good, but I’m trying. Tell her to have a good room fixed for me when I get over there and plenty of fish, good meal.”

My, it’s wonderful how they send you off. There they were, all gathered around this poor sister. She was about to be confined, and the doctor told her it would kill her. She was tubercular from head to foot.

I had with me an old native, almost ninety. She was his niece. He stood up at the head of the bed, and he said: “Vera, you’re dead. You’re dead because the doctor says you’re dead. You’re on your way out. I’ve been to you, your home, and your people—my relatives. I’m the only one that joined the Church. None of you has ever listened to me. You’re dead now, but you’re going to live.”

He turned to me and said, “Is it all right if we kneel down and pray?”

I said, “Yes.”

We knelt down. Everybody around there knelt down, and after the prayer we blessed her. The last time I was in New Zealand, she was physically well from head to foot and had had her fifth child. She has not joined the Church yet. That’s the next miracle I’m waiting for there.

“Genealogy is addicting,” the Rexburg, Idaho, resident says. After school and on weekends, you’ll find the sixth grader working as a family history assistant at the Upper Snake River Valley Family History Center at Ricks College. Because he’s so young, some folks find it hard to believe he knows so much. After all, family history is a bit perplexing. That is, until they ask him a question and discover he really does know what he’s talking about.
“Once I’ve helped them, they will sometimes come in and ask, ‘Does Josh know something about that?’” he says. Even one of his trainers, Elder Melvin Dickerson of Rexburg, a former full-time family history missionary, was a bit skeptical at first. “We don’t run a baby-sitting service,” he said more than once.
But Elder Dickerson quickly changed his mind when he discovered Josh was serious about the work. “He learned very fast,” he says. “He just gobbled everything up. He was incredible, and still is.”
While the use of computers is sometimes a stumbling block to some researchers, Josh is adept. Dickerson adds, “He is still a young child in some ways, but when it comes to family history, he knows how to do it and how to run the computers.”