Gospel Story Finder

The deacons quorum of the Apple Valley Ward of the Salt Lake Butler Stake is enthralled with reading the Book of Mormon. They accepted the challenge presented to them by their stake leaders to read and then test Moroni’s promise that they can pray and know for themselves if the book is true. To help them reach their goal, their quorum leader, Mark Duffin, has helped the boys stay interested and motivated. “I want them to feel what they are reading instead of just getting through the pages.”

“At first I actually passed out tests, with questions chapter by chapter,” said Brother Duffin. “They loved it at first. When that wore thin, I had them come prepared to talk about a chapter. But I think the best thing we’ve done is having them over to my house on Sunday evening about once a month. We read together. We talk and discuss what we read. Then we have cake and ice cream. After an hour or so, I have to kick them out. They don’t want to go because they’re enjoying themselves.”

I remember a time when I had been called to be the priests quorum adviser. At that time we had over 30 priests in the ward, and the bishop said to me, “Brother Ballard, we want every priest in this ward to be active. I’ll do all I can to help you, but it is your duty to get every one of them.” There were several of those priests who were not active in the Church.

The story of one of those boys whom I shall call David is special to me. His father was not a member of the Church, and his mother was not completely active. This boy had not been to church for about six or seven years.

I went to his home to visit him and he tolerated me, but I didn’t get very far. I pondered what to do to help this boy and went to the Lord in prayer. I got the impression that the way I could get a little closer to him was to go for a ride with him in his jeep.

David’s eyes lit up when I said to him, “David, why don’t you take me for a ride in your jeep?”

He said, “Really, Brother Ballard?”

I replied, “Yes.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Here’s where I made my mistake. I said, “I don’t care, just anywhere you want to take me.” What I should have said is, “Around the block five times.”

We got into the jeep and I strapped myself in with everything I could find. He headed right for the hills, and I think that is the only time I have ever been airborne in a four-wheel vehicle. I had eaten enough dust by the time I got out of that jeep that I made up my mind that the Lord and I were going to activate David. I said to him, “I’ll pick you up in the morning at 7:45 for priesthood meeting. You be ready.” Then I left.

At quarter to eight the next morning I was at David’s front door talking to his nonmember father. I said, “Would you please tell David I am here to take him to priesthood meeting.”

He said, “He is still in bed.”

I said, “Well, would you get him up and tell him I am out here waiting?”

Then his mother came to the door. I asked, “Would you please wake David up? If you don’t want to, just show me where his bedroom is and I will.” Isn’t that terrible? What right did I have to talk that way? I believe, however, that I was being moved by the Spirit. Finally, about 8:20, out came David.

The bishop, in the meantime, was with the priests quorum wondering what had become of his adviser who was supposed to be teaching the lesson. When David and I walked in the door together, he knew what had happened.

That was the beginning of a great relationship between a boy and a priests quorum adviser. This boy was quite a loner without many friends. We did some things together, and just before I was released as priests quorum adviser, I took all the priests on an outing for a weekend, going on a Thursday and back on a Saturday. I let David drive my car, and we stayed in the same room together. He was my companion.

Soon afterward, I left to take up my position as president of the Canada Toronto Mission. Six months later, I received a letter from David. Allow me to share some excerpts from that letter:

“I wish you and your family the best of happiness and sincere guidance from God. Your wife and family are ever so much missed. We all love you and pray for you. Brother Ballard, you have taught me well, for I am leaving in March for the mission field.”

There I was in Canada, buried in missionary affairs, reading a letter from a young man who had come to mean a lot to me because of the relationship that we shared. I had watched him begin to attend church and develop a testimony; he had grown close to his Father in Heaven. As I read that letter telling me that he was going to serve a mission, I went into the kitchen to tell Sister Ballard and she wept with me.

His letter continued, “I can hardly wait. I pray that Heavenly Father will bless me. Tomorrow night the bishop will ordain me an elder. Saturday he is taking me to the temple. I will pray for you and think of you. May the Lord bless you in your missionary labors, Brother Ballard. David.”

I thank the Lord that David took the time to write that letter to me. It showed me that he cared. That letter made an impression on my life that was far greater than I ever made on him. That letter was a greater reward for my small efforts in this young man’s behalf than any amount of money or earthly wealth could have ever been. I felt as the shepherd must have felt when he called together his friends and neighbors and asked them to rejoice with him, for he had found his sheep which was lost.

A second quality was courage. The sisters had an opportunity to demonstrate their fearlessness in the face of physical danger almost as soon as they reached the Arizona border, where the principal obstacles were the crossing of the Colorado and ascending and descending the precipitous range of mountains called Lee’s Backbone. Many a wagon narrowly missed rolling down the mountain into the river below. Here is a typical story told by Harriet Betsy Cook Teeples:
“… when we were ready to go over the mountain called Lee’s Back Bone, we found the road up the side of it to be a series of stone stairs and so steep and high we had to use all the teams in the company to take one wagon up.
“It was one mile to the top, and on the top there was a dugway, one mile long and so narrow that the wagon wheels would be within six inches of the deep edge in places where we could look down and see the river five hundred feet or more below. We dare not have more than one span of animals on a wagon for fear they would go off into the river. I drove a gentle team around the dugway with my baby in my lap. When we got around this, there was a flat place where we stopped and locked all the wheels with chains in order to go down the other side. As I was the last to get around the top, my husband came and locked my wheels with chains to go down the other side, and said, ‘Now you wait here until I help the others down and I will come back and get you.’ I waited until the rest were out of sight and then I started down, and as the road made a sharp turn around a big rock the wheel stuck and stopped, but I did not want to stop there as it was nearly dark so I sat my baby down in the bottom of the buggy, got out, untied the wheels on that side, got in and backed the team far enough so that I could pass the rock by turning them against the hill on the other side, and I got out and tied the wheels on that side, got in and backed the team far enough so that I could pass the rock by turning them against the hill on the other side, and I got out and tied the wheels again, and went on all right. Just after that my husband met me and said, ‘How in the world did you get around that rock?’ I told him how I had done it, and he made me feel it was all worthwhile when he said, ‘Honey, you’ll do.’”9

Brad plays nervously with his key ring. He will go to his new ward for the first time tonight, and he feels less sure of himself than usual. He has been thinking about how he will get acquainted and has decided the best plan is to just keep as quiet as possible for awhile. That way he will see what others are like before they form opinions of him. Brad smiles as he turns the key in the ignition. He isn’t sure just why, but somehow getting Dad to let him take the car tonight was very important to him.
Brad doesn’t realize that his keeping quiet does not prevent people from forming opinions of him. He also doesn’t recognize that the car makes him feel more confident in a new situation.

I had such a test decades ago when one of my medical faculty colleagues chastised me for failing to separate my professional knowledge from my religious convictions. He demanded that I not combine the two. How could I do that? Truth is truth! It is not divisible, and any part of it cannot be set aside.

Whether truth emerges from a scientific laboratory or through revelation, all truth emanates from God. All truth is part of the gospel of Jesus Christ.4 Yet I was being asked to hide my faith. I did not comply with my colleague’s request. I let my faith show!

I find it interesting that our best member missionaries, those who take the opportunity of sharing the gospel, are often people who are joyful. When I was the Executive Director of the Missionary Department, we suddenly noticed some baptisms in France. Thrilled, we wondered about the reasons, and there were several. But one of the main reasons was a sister who went to work on Monday morning and talked about Sunbeams. After the Sabbath, she would—with great joy and delight—tell her co-workers about her experience teaching young children the day before. Before long, her associates could hardly wait for her to talk about the Sunbeams. And what did that do? Here was a group of people living with the same concerns we all have about our world and the future, and all of a sudden, there was a person who was not only joyful but joyful about children—who represent the future. This sister clearly loved the Savior, and that love radiated. Her co-workers wanted to know more.

One Sunday morning when I was only five years old, I was playing with a neighbor’s cat. Eventually the cat got tired of playing with me and ran into a nearby cornfield. I wasn’t tired of playing with the cat, however, so I followed him into the field.
The corn was very high, and when I couldn’t find the animal, I decided to go home. It didn’t take long to discover I didn’t know where I was, and I had no idea where home was. I was lost in the large cornfield.
As I wandered around, the corn seemed to get taller and taller until it reached the sky. I was disoriented and felt more and more frightened. I began to run, yelling for help, but the wind drowned out my cries. I got very hot and sweaty, and the corn plants scratched my skin. I didn’t know what to do.
As I was rushing through the cornfield, I remembered a lesson my Primary teacher had taught only a few weeks earlier. “If you’re ever frightened,” she had said, “or if you’re ever lost, get down on your knees and pray.”
Then I remembered my parents telling me the same thing as we knelt in daily family prayer. “Heavenly Father cares about you,” my mother and father had taught me. “He will always hear your prayers. He will take care of you.”
As soon as I remembered the words my parents and my Primary teacher had spoken, I dropped down on my knees. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I know I shared my thoughts and fears with the Lord.
After my prayer, I felt very peaceful. My parents and my Primary teacher had told me Heavenly Father would hear my prayers, so I knew help was on the way. I was tired from running around so much, so I decided to rest until someone came. I promptly lay down and fell asleep.
It wasn’t long before my mother realized I was no longer in our yard. She had seen me playing with the cat, so she guessed I had followed it somewhere. She began searching for me. A block from our home, she saw the cat near a large irrigation canal and feared the worst. She thought I had fallen in and drowned.
She ran home and sent my older sister to the nearby Church building, where my father and other priesthood holders were gathered for a meeting. Mother then fell to her knees and immediately began praying to Heavenly Father, asking Him to protect me. She promised that if I was found safe, she would do all she could to make sure I was raised in righteousness.
After pouring her heart out to the Lord, Mother stood up. As she did, she thought of the neighboring cornfield. She ran outside to begin searching there. Some of the men from the meetinghouse met her, and she told them she thought I might be lost somewhere inside the field of corn.
Some men searched along the irrigation canal while others began searching through the tall stalks of corn. One of them, Bud Phillips, found me quietly sleeping. He picked me up and carried me to Mother, who was weeping. I remember wondering why everyone was making such a fuss. After all, I had prayed and I knew everything would be fine.
My prayers and my mother’s were answered, and she always did all she could to see that I was raised in righteousness.

Among the material things of the past—things that I treasure for sweet memory’s sake and because of pleasant association in bygone days—is a lamp. …
The lamp of which I speak, the student lamp of my school and college days, was one of the best of its kind. I had bought it with hard-earned savings; it was counted among my most cherished possessions. …
One summer evening I sat musing studiously and withal restfully in the open air outside the door of the room in which I lodged and studied. A stranger approached. I noticed that he carried a satchel. He was affable and entertaining. I brought another chair from within, and we chatted together till the twilight had deepened into dusk, the dusk into darkness.
Then he said: “You are a student and doubtless have much work to do of nights. What kind of lamp do you use?” And without waiting for a reply, he continued, “I have a superior kind of lamp I should like to show you, a lamp designed and constructed according to the latest achievements of applied science, far surpassing anything heretofore produced as a means of artificial lighting.”
I replied with confidence, and I confess, not without some exultation: “My friend, I have a lamp, one that has been tested and proved. It has been to me a companion through many a long night. It is an Argand lamp, and one of the best. I have trimmed and cleaned it today; it is ready for the lighting. Step inside; I will show you my lamp; then you may tell me whether yours can possibly be better.”
We entered my study room, and with a feeling which I assume is akin to that of the athlete about to enter a contest with one whom he regards as a pitiably inferior opponent, I put the match to my well-trimmed Argand.
My visitor was voluble in his praise. It was the best lamp of its kind, he said. He averred that he had never seen a lamp in better trim. He turned the wick up and down and pronounced the adjustment perfect. He declared that never before had he realized how satisfactory a student lamp could be.
I liked the man; he seemed to me wise, and he assuredly was ingratiating. “Love me, love my lamp,” I thought, mentally paraphrasing a common expression of the period.
“Now,” said he, “with your permission I’ll light my lamp.” He took from his satchel a lamp then known as the “Rochester.” It had a chimney which, compared with mine, was as a factory smokestack alongside a house flue. Its hollow wick was wide enough to admit my four fingers. Its light made bright the remotest corner of my room. In its brilliant blaze my own little Argand wick burned a weak, pale yellow. Until that moment of convincing demonstration, I had never known the dim obscurity in which I had lived and labored, studied and struggled.
“I’ll buy your lamp,” said I; “you need neither explain nor argue further.” I took my new acquisition to the laboratory that same night and determined its capacity. It turned at over 48 candlepower—fully four times the intensity of my student lamp.
Two days after purchasing, I met the lamp peddler on the street about noontime. To my inquiry he replied that business was good; the demand for his lamps was greater than the factory supply. “But,” said I, “you are not working today?” His rejoinder was a lesson. “Do you think that I would be so foolish as to go around trying to sell lamps in the daytime? Would you have bought one if I had lighted it for you when the sun was shining? I chose the time to show the superiority of my lamp over yours, and you were eager to own the better one I offered, were you not?”

As a bishop of a student ward adjacent to the University of Utah campus about 18 years ago, I tried vainly to hold a young marriage together. The wife had been unfaithful, and as I sought to help and to understand, I learned that as a child this woman had an adulterous father. Though unjustified, she acted out her feelings about men. What she then did was not love. Several years after my release as bishop, I saw a story in the local paper about her having been arrested for prostitution. I know not where she is today, but I cannot put out of my mind the words of Jacob, who decried unfaithful fathers who had lost the confidence of their children because of their bad examples (see Jacob 2:35).

Boo found Daddy’s toolbox and took out a big hammer. She pounded with the hammer—Bang! Bang! Bang! But Daddy took the hammer away. “No, no, Boo,” Daddy said. “Those are my things.”
Boo is a little girl, bouncy when she walks, giggly when she talks. Boo is busy! She is busy learning about everything—where she can play and where she can’t, what she should do and what she shouldn’t.
In Big Sister’s room Boo wanted to climb up to the mirror and put colors on her face! But Big Sister scooped her off the chair. “No, no, Boo,” Big Sister said. “Those are my things.”
When Boo wanted to poke the shiny needle from Mommy’s sewing basket into the bright cloth or to cut with the sharp scissors, Mommy put the sewing basket up on a high shelf. “No, no, Boo,” Mommy said. “Those are my things.”
Boo tried to dip a paintbrush into Big Brother’s paint box so she could dab and dribble the paint. But Big Brother took the brush away before the dribble dropped. “No, no, Boo,” he said. “Those are my things.”
Boo was sad. She sat in a corner. She didn’t feel bouncy. She didn’t feel giggly. She didn’t have anything to keep her busy.
Mommy looked at Daddy. Big Sister looked at Big Brother. The next day Big Sister played ball with Boo. Then they played dolls. Big Sister read lots of stories to Boo. Boo was busy!
Boo was so busy that she didn’t hear Daddy pounding. She didn’t see Mommy sewing or Big Brother painting.
In the morning they all said, “Come with us, Boo. We’re going to the Yes-Yes Place.”
The Yes-Yes Place was a playhouse. Daddy had built it. Big Brother had painted it. Mommy had sewed the curtains and made the little furniture. And it was all for Boo.
Boo sat in the little chair and looked in the little mirror and put little-girl makeup colors on her face. She pounded with her rubber hammer. She cut bright cloth with her safe scissors. She painted with her jars of finger paint. And no one said, “No, no!”

by Carl G. Bechtold
For a while, Scout Troop 258 from Cody, Wyoming, had a seven-foot Eagle Scout. And he didn’t even play basketball! He was, in fact, a bronze statue.
Sculptor Peter Fillerup, who is an assistant Scoutmaster for the troop, was commissioned by the Boy Scouts of America to make a statue for the Philmont (New Mexico) High Adventure Camp. He naturally went to the Scouts in his troop to find models to pose for the statue.
The Scouts also benefited from the occasion by earning their sculpting merit badges, which required them to make clay sculptures of their own.
Kevin Card, 13, served as the main model for the statue, and Shawn Dansie, 14, accompanied Brother Fillerup to the foundry in Lehi, Utah, to see the statue cast.
On June 28, the statue was delivered. So much for the idea of running away with the stake basketball championship with their own seven footer.

Illustrations by Adrian Ropp
I was almost 12 years old when the Twin Falls Idaho Temple was dedicated. I was so excited when my older sister asked me for the first time if I wanted to start going to the temple regularly with her and her friend.
I was happy when my younger brother Tanner turned 12 three years later because I could finally invite him to attend the temple with me.
Each morning that we went, we would help each other get up and go, and when we were tired Tanner would make jokes to help us wake up. After going to the temple, we would take some time to talk about how we’d felt in the temple and what we’d thought about.
Going to the temple with Tanner became the spiritual highlight of my week. Through our regular temple visits we became better friends, which strengthened me more than I would have imagined when some trials came my way. Our two older sisters had left for college and our ward had just been split, leaving Tanner and me as some of the only active youth in our ward.
Tanner and I spent hours calling and inviting less-active youth to church and Mutual. It often felt like a hopeless effort because no one ever came no matter how many girls I tried to befriend.
Our parents tried to help. They would bear testimony to us when we were discouraged, and they let us talk out our frustration when we came home upset. But even so, we didn’t suddenly have more friends at church, and wanting to go when I’d be the only young woman there was getting harder and harder. Our temple visits started becoming less frequent because of our busy school schedules.
I spent a lot of time reading my scriptures and pleading with the Lord to help me be strong. I was lonely and tired—tired of being alone, tired of my efforts not making a difference, tired of struggling spiritually and emotionally.
During this time, I worked as a lifeguard at the city pool. I liked being there a lot more than I liked being at church because my co-workers were my friends and were always excited to see me. One day I decided that I wouldn’t go back to Mutual since work was more fun and more helpful for me financially.
I didn’t think it was a big deal until I noticed myself lowering my standards. I didn’t say anything about my friends’ swearing, and one day I was shocked to hear myself accidentally swear when I never had before. I even watched an inappropriate movie one night at a party with my lifeguarding friends. I felt terrible and wondered what I was doing.
Meanwhile my parents had told me how much more lonely Tanner had become since I stopped attending Mutual. Every week he would ask me, “Hey, are you going to come to Mutual tonight?” When he would get home from Mutual, he would go straight to his room and read his scriptures for a long time. He wasn’t talking as much anymore, and when I asked if he was OK, he just said, “No,” and walked away.
One night he came home crying because he had felt so alone.
That’s when I decided that I needed to go back. It didn’t matter how hard being alone was for me; Tanner needed me.
Tanner had been taking a family history course at church, and I decided that I wanted to take it with him. We wanted to start going to the temple more regularly again, and now we would be able to find names ourselves.
We enjoyed taking the class together on Sundays. After church, we’d search for names together. The coolest thing about taking our own names to the temple was that we had found them together, and even better, we were able to support each other at church and even enjoy church because we were doing the Lord’s work.
Tanner’s diligence in attending church and Mutual was a powerful example to me. I had a testimony of the gospel, but he helped me gain a testimony of attending church meetings and activities.
Together we were able to comfort one another and use our testimonies of the temple to help each other be strong in the Church. Youth attendance at church and Mutual never really got better, but Tanner and I became stronger and more able to bear our burdens as we helped each other press forward.
I’m so glad that I invited him to come to the temple with me. While I’m sure it helped him, I know it rescued me.

Illustrations by Katie McDee
Ooh! This looks good. Can I check this one out, Mamãe?
Sure!
How’s your book?
I thought I would like it, but I didn’t feel good when I was reading it. There were some bad parts, so I decided to stop.
I think that was the Holy Ghost! He was helping you know that it wasn’t good to read.
I’m proud of you for acting on your feelings. We can get a new book next week, OK?
OK. Thanks, Mamãe.

One day, shortly before I was baptized, I was at my grandmother’s house when she went to the basement to get something. She tripped and fell and couldn’t get up. She called to me, but I was watching TV and didn’t hear her. After about 10 minutes, I heard my name quietly, “Tom!” I went to look for her and found her lying on the floor. I was not strong enough to help her up, so I ran to a neighbor’s house. She came and helped Grandmother up.
Grandmother told me, “Tom, that was the Holy Ghost that you heard. I was too far away for you to hear me.”
I know it was the Holy Ghost who whispered to me. Now I am baptized, and I am glad to have the gift of the Holy Ghost.
Tom R., age 8, Germany

Michael slung his backpack over his shoulder. It was the first day of school, and he couldn’t wait! He and his family lived in India. Many children in his city couldn’t go to school. Michael was grateful he had the opportunity to learn.
He liked learning—especially mathematics. He also loved reading magazines. He turned the colorful pages. He read about different animals and places around the world.
One day Michael read a different kind of magazine. It was from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Michael loved reading it. He wanted to learn more.
Michael had gone to other churches before. He liked learning about Jesus. But sometimes he felt confused. Which church was the true church?
Later, he read a booklet about the prophet Joseph Smith. He felt something special as he read it. Joseph Smith had also gone to different churches too searching for the truth. Maybe I’m like Joseph, Michael thought.
Michael wanted to go to this new church to see what it was like. But there were no Latter-day Saint churches in India. Michael was disappointed. He kept learning all he could. He read the Book of Mormon and prayed. He knew it was true! He wanted to be baptized. But he would have to wait.
Years passed. When Michael was 21, a senior missionary couple came to India. Finally, Michael was baptized! Soon he was able to serve a mission of his own in Utah, USA.
More years passed. One day a friend called him. The Church was looking for people to help translate general conference for people in India. Michael was nervous at first. But he was happy to help.
One October afternoon Michael was translating a talk by President Nelson in general conference. He heard the prophet announce that a temple would be built in India! Michael wanted to shout for joy. He cried happy tears.
Michael was grateful for all he had learned at school. But most of all, he was grateful he had learned about the gospel of Jesus Christ. He was happy more people in his country could learn about Him too!
Today, Michael helps translate general conference for people in India.

One year we didn’t have much money for Christmas, so I prayed for help to be able to buy a gift for my stepdad, Adrian (whom my sister and I call Weegee). My sister and I had only two dollars between us to spend on gifts.
When my mom said we were going to a nearby thrift store to shop for Christmas gifts, I ran to my room and prayed for help: “Please help us find a gift for two dollars.”
At the store Elaina and I looked through the books and found a triple combination that looked brand new. We were so excited when we found it. I held onto it tight as we ran through the aisles to my mom. Jumping up and down, we said together, “We found a gift for Weegee!” At the checkout my mom asked, “How much for this?” The lady replied, “Two dollars.” My prayer was answered.
At that time our stepfather was not a member. He didn’t like Mormons, he didn’t believe in “the Mormon book,” and he didn’t like members picking us up for Young Men and Young Women activities. He even chased away the elders. But the ward members and missionaries didn’t give up on him.
On Christmas day we saved his gift for last. Elaina and I said, “This is the greatest gift anyone could ever give you! It will make you happy.” Weegee guessed a couple of times, and we laughed at his answers. We told him, “It’s an awesome gift! It’s going to change your life. It changed ours.”
Our mom was worried that he would be mad about our gift to him, but Elaina and I knew it was the right thing to do.
When he opened it, he thanked us for the gift and said he would read it.
Because we love Weegee, we wanted him to learn about Jesus Christ and the gift of His Atonement. We wanted him to believe like we do, to pray and repent, and to have the gospel in his life.
He read and prayed about the Book of Mormon, and with the help of the elders and ward members, he was baptized and is now a member of the Church. We were so happy to be sealed in the temple, and we know we will always be together forever as a family.

“I did not have a full assurance that Jesus Christ existed. When people asked me if I believed in God, I would tell them I didn’t know, because I didn’t have a real testimony.
“One of the elders who was teaching me helped me realize I needed to work to have a strong belief in God. He told me, ‘Study the scriptures every day, pray, and go to Church, and you will receive an answer.’ I put his advice into practice, and I soon realized that my faith was growing bit by bit.
“My friends say I’m not the same anymore. They want me to be like I was before, but I can’t. Being a member of the Church has changed my life.”
Shirley Álvarez Vega,El Socorro Branch,Cartagena Colombia El Bosque District

Long before I joined the Church, I was a critic of it. I gathered false information about the Church and criticized my friends who were members.
Despite my ignorance, I was soon converted to Christ through missionary lessons, which transformed me to the point where I desperately wanted to serve a full-time mission.
To strengthen my testimony, I participated in missionary lessons almost all the time, and every moment I spent at a lesson with the missionaries made me more eager to proclaim the restored gospel.
For four good years, the Lord’s invitation in Doctrine and Covenant 88:81 lingered on my mind. Meanwhile, I was learning an electrical and plumbing trade that would take almost three years to complete. This job prevented me from attending Church regularly.
During this time of doubt and reflection on the decision to take, I was inspired by the Savior’s promise in Matthew 6:33–34.
After careful reflection, I finally resolved to accept the call to serve a full-time mission, and it was at this point that I began to encounter a series of obstacles.
I quit my job and went to Côte d’Ivoire to work on my mission application. When I arrived in Côte d’Ivoire, my elder sister hosted me. I stayed with her for a while before finding a job.
After a few months, I found a job in a boutique where I was to be paid 600 francs CFA a day, or 20,000 francs CFA a month. I had to accept it because it was the only opportunity I had.
I also met a girl who agreed to be my girlfriend. I told her about my beliefs and my plans, and she was willing to stand by me.
During working hours, I would go to money agencies to deposit money in amounts ranging from 500,000 francs CFA to 4,000,000 francs CFA. Whenever I received any amount of money and recounted it, there was always a surplus, which I gave back to my boss. Surprised at my honesty and integrity, he increased my salary and often gave me 1,000 to 3,000 francs CFA every evening in addition to my salary. Each time I received my salary at the end of the month, I completed one task on the requirements list for my mission. During this time of unrelenting effort, I had a misunderstanding with my elder sister, so I had to move out and embark on a new adventure. I had no place to sleep because all the money I earned at the end of the month was invested in my mission application. I slept at my friends’ homes, where sometimes four people shared a small room. Some close friends declined my request to spend the night in their homes. There came a time when I wandered from house to house with my suitcase, looking for a place to lay my head. One night, with no place to sleep, I slept on the ground at a marketplace.
Through it all, I kept my faith and knew that the Lord gives no commandment to the children of men without preparing a way for them. (See1 Nephi 3:7.)
One evening, I met with my boss to discuss my situation and the goal I wanted to achieve (i.e. serving a full-time mission). After listening to me, he set a condition: If I would forgo my dream and stay with him, he would do everything for me. I knew he could do that. He had good intentions when he set this condition. He was very close to me, and I had become like a son to him. He trusted me more than some of his brothers. For me, the Savior‘s call was the most important thing. I, therefore, declined the offer. He even sent people to plead with me, but it was all in vain because I was determined to serve a mission.
Finally, I went to Abidjan to apply for my passport, during the COVID-19 pandemic. Along the way, we had to get off the bus and walk for miles to cross certain areas. We even had to walk through the forest during the trip.
There were all sorts of issues with getting a passport, but by God’s grace, I got mine.
After about a year of working on my mission application, I gave it to my bishop to submit it to the stake president. To my utter surprise, my bishop lost the file containing my passport and medical records. This was a huge ordeal for me. That night, I got on my knees and cried my heart out, pleading with God to make it possible for us to find the file. After my prayer, I told Heavenly Father that if we did not find the file, I would work on another application no matter how long it would take.
A few weeks later, a miracle happened: my file was found at the premises of my stake president’s company. The security guard had been keeping the file all this while since he did not know the owner.
This experience strengthened my faith in Christ, that He is mighty to save.
After receiving the file, we gave it to my stake president to fill it out and submit online. However, the file was not submitted online for nearly two months, and it was at this point that I felt like giving up. When I told my girlfriend that I wanted to give up, she replied with a statement that I had made at the beginning of our relationship, that nothing and no one could stop me from serving a full-time mission. I regained hope, called my stake president, and followed up with strict monitoring. When the application was submitted, I quit my job to better prepare for my mission. At one point, I ran out of food and was supported by my girlfriend.
Finally, my call came. I was called to serve in the Côte d’Ivoire Abidjan West Mission with President and Sister Lewis. I was so happy I had attained my goal. I had to go to the training center in Ghana, but due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I had to undergo my training online. There again, I paid for an internet bundle out of pocket until I ran out of money. A few days later I informed my trainer that I would have to stop taking the course for lack of money. Surprised by what he had just learned, he sent a message to my stake president, and the problem was resolved. I then proceeded with my training as planned.
I experienced adversity from the beginning of my preparation till the end. I am grateful for having kept the faith and for the hand of God that supported me during those trying times.
After my mission, I married that young girl who stood by me through it all. We now have a child who makes us so happy. I testify that as much as we shall put our trust in God even so much we shall be delivered out of our trials, and our troubles, and our afflictions, and we shall be lifted up at the last day. (See Alma 38:5.)

In our quest for an example, we need not necessarily look to years gone by or to lives lived long ago. Let me illustrate. Today Craig Sudbury occupies a position of prominence in Salt Lake City, but let me turn back the clock just a few years to the day he and his mother came to my office prior to Craig’s departure for the Australia Melbourne Mission. Fred Sudbury, Craig’s father, was noticeably absent. Twenty-five years earlier, Craig’s mother had married Fred, who did not share her love for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and indeed did not belong to the Church.
Craig confided to me his deep and abiding love for his parents. He shared his innermost hope that somehow, in some way, his father would be touched by the Spirit and open his heart to the gospel of Jesus Christ. He pleaded earnestly with me for a suggestion. I prayed for inspiration concerning how such a desire might be rewarded. Such inspiration came, and I said to Craig, “Serve the Lord with all your heart. Be obedient to your sacred calling. Each week write a letter to your parents, and, on occasion, write to Dad personally and let him know that you love him, and tell him why you’re grateful to be his son.”
He thanked me and, with his mother, departed the office. I was not to see Craig’s mother for eighteen months. She came to the office and, in sentences punctuated by tears, said to me, “It has been almost two years since Craig departed for his mission. His faithful service has qualified him for positions of responsibility in the mission field, and he has never failed in writing a letter to us each week. Recently, my husband, Fred, stood for the first time in a testimony meeting and said, ‘All of you know that I am not a member of the Church, but something has happened to me since Craig left for his mission. His letters have touched my soul. May I share one with you? “Dear Dad, Today we taught a choice family about the plan of salvation and the blessings of exaltation in the celestial kingdom. I thought of our family. More than anything in the world, I want to be with you and Mother in that kingdom. For me it just wouldn’t be a celestial kingdom if you were not there. I’m grateful to be your son, Dad, and want you to know that I love you. Your missionary son, Craig.”’ Fred then announced, ‘My wife doesn’t know what I plan to say. I love her and I love our son, Craig. After twenty-six years of marriage I have made my decision to become a member of the Church, for I know the gospel message is the word of God. I suppose I have known this truth for a long time, but my son’s mission has moved me to action. I have made arrangements for my wife and me to meet Craig when he completes his mission. I will be his final baptism as a full-time missionary of the Lord.’”
A young missionary with unwavering faith had participated with God in a modern-day miracle. His challenge to communicate with one whom he loved had been made more difficult by the barrier of the thousands of kilometers that lay between him and his father. But the spirit of love spanned the vast expanse of the blue Pacific, and heart spoke to heart in divine dialogue.
No hero stood so tall as did Craig when, in Australia, he stood with his father in water waist deep and, raising his right arm to the square, repeated those sacred words: “Fred Sudbury, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”
The prayer of a mother, the faith of a father, the service of a son brought forth the miracle of God. Mother, father, son—each qualifies in a Hall of Fame.

Nathan, a neighbor boy, came around to play with my son Michael. Later I took them to the park. Michael rode his bike to the park and promised Nathan that he could ride on the way home. But when the time came to leave, Michael found it hard to keep his promise. He rode his bike home himself, feeling very unhappy. Nathan wasn’t too pleased either. After Michael had time to think about it, he agreed that Nathan could have a go on his bike after all, so off they went. Afterward Michael told me, “I liked sharing because Nathan is my friend, and it made me feel happy.”