Gospel Story Finder

Having his family join the Church when he was six, Alexandr Masenkov looked forward to the day he would receive the priesthood. Now, as a priest, he is finding that each office in the Aaronic Priesthood prepared him for the next.
“I was ordained to the office of priest when I turned 16. I realized the weight of my responsibility to bless the sacrament because of how important this ordinance is for every Church member. I prepared for it all week. As I blessed the sacrament the first time, the Spirit touched my heart. Once, my father and I were assigned to take the sacrament to a man who was blind and paralyzed. It was the first time I had blessed the sacrament outside of the meetinghouse. I felt I had a responsibility to be a servant and a witness of Jesus Christ and to do what He would do if He were there.”Alexandr Masenkov, Nevsky Branch, St. Petersburg Russia District

Hey, Sam!
What’s wrong?
I can’t find Floppy, my elephant from Great-Aunt Alice!
I’ll help you look.
We’ll never find him.
Let’s say a prayer for help.
Heavenly Father, please help us find Floppy.
Hmm …
Sam! Look!
You found him!
Let’s say a prayer to say thank you.
Heavenly Father, thank you for helping me find Floppy.
Now there’s one more thing we should do.
Can I play too?
Heavenly Father cares about what we care about! We can pray to Him anytime, anywhere, about anything.

At 6:30 the alarm goes off. You groan, fling back the covers before you can change your mind, listen for your companion stirring in the next bunk, and head for the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face. You’re still tired from the day before, and as you think about what lies ahead of you today, you stare at your mirrored reflection and ask, “Can I do this?”
Before you begin your daily gospel study, you wander out to the door, open it, check the weather, and glance at the woods that cover the nearby hill. Awake now, you remember the satisfaction of yesterday’s hard work, of discovering just how much you really are capable of, and you say to yourself, “Yeah, I can do this!”
Turning back you say good morning to Brother Smith … and Brother Heinrich … and Brother Ray … and …
If you hadn’t already seen the photos on this page—you’d have thought this was a standard story about life in the mission field. Right? Wrong. It’s about another group of remarkable young men who are simply called “the work crew.”
They don’t have a very glamorous name—“the work crew.” But it is descriptive. That wooded hill? It’s the Hill Cumorah. And the 22 young men of the work crew volunteer six weeks of their summer to set up stages, lights, and props for the annual Hill Cumorah Pageant, “America’s Witness for Christ.” During the seven performances they handle the lighting and special effects. Then, they take everything down again and restore the hill to its prepageant condition.
In the few short weeks before rehearsals and the actual pageant, the work crew puts together the large, seven-level outdoor stage, erects the light towers, sets up special effects machines, and strings thousands of feet of cable. By the time they are through, they have emptied nine large semitrailers of aluminum I-beams, fiberglass grating, pipes and tubing, lights, countless thousands of nuts and bolts, brackets and braces, connections and fittings of all descriptions.
A few of the crew members have been here before, but most are new. They’ve never read a blueprint before, never worked with I-beams. Training is on-the-job, and they hit the ground running. It’s learn as you go, and they learn a lot, especially about themselves.
“There’s a lot of potential that came out in us that we didn’t think we had,” says one. “Like getting the stages up,” another chimes in. “Sometimes you found yourself lifting something you didn’t think you could lift,” says a third. They tend to interrupt and finish each other’s sentences like brothers in a big family that has shared a lot.
Right now the whole crew is gathered at one end of the glorified barn that serves as their dormitory. They call it the “wind tunnel” because of the breeze that blows through when the doors are open at both ends. Actually, it only looks like a barn from the outside. Inside, it looks like an average teenage boy’s room multiplied by 22.
The crew not only rooms together and takes meals together, but they are divided into two-man companionships and call each other brother—Brother Shoesmith, Brother Sherwood, etc.
One obvious challenge is simply getting along together. They have different backgrounds, personalities, experience, abilities. If they all went to the same school, chances are they would not all end up as close friends. Yet, here they are, faced with an enormous task that requires great teamwork and cooperation. So differences have to be put aside.
“This is the best preparation for a mission. I’ve learned how to live with people,” comes a voice from the back of the crowd.
Still another crew member chimes in: “You feel the Spirit here because you’re working together with 21 other guys, building friendships. You learn each other’s weaknesses quickly, and you help each other become better people. That’s where the spiritual experience comes from—learning with other people.”
And depending on each other. Ask how much they depend on one another and the answer comes back in a literal chorus: “A lot!” The heavy work requires a team effort. But because the work is hard, and new to them, they rely on each other for emotional support, too. “Not everyone has a good day every day, and when someone has a bad day, everyone else has to try to help him through it.”
There is a lot riding on how well the crew does its work. The success of the pageant literally hinges on how they do their tasks.
The crew is divided into two teams—the light crew and the ground crew. Members of the light crew man the light towers, making sure that spotlights are correctly aimed at the right places. It gets a little lonely up on a tower in the dark, knowing that the success of a scene will depend on your doing just the right thing at just the right time. But it helps to know that your fellow crew members know just how you feel and that they are pulling for you. “We can all feel the joy of everyone else.”
For example, probably the key scene in the whole pageant is when an actor portraying the resurrected Christ is suddenly illuminated in the darkness above the stage and slowly descends. Having the spotlights in just the right place is crucial. As one of the tower crew tells it, “Towers seven and eight ‘pick up’ the Christ figure. And as a light tower person, I can feel their excitement.” Another finishes for him: “We all just heave a sigh of relief when they do a good job.”
“There’s nothing any of us wants more than for all of us to do a good job.”
When they do their job right, the performance goes well, and the audience doesn’t even notice they are there. But at least they get to watch the performances. Members of the ground team, on the other hand, spend much of their time under the stages. They scuttle from one special effects machine to another, trying not to crash into one of the I-beams or other supports that fill the low spaces beneath the sets. Timing is critical for them, too. They provide the flames during the Abinadi scene, the lightning arcs and fires and explosions of debris during the destruction scenes.
The space is limited, the hill is steep, and being in the right place at the right time demands concentration. In other words, it’s hard work—which leads to another discovery the work crew has made: “Hard work doesn’t kill you,” says Brother Malcarne with a grin. “In fact, the best thing about the whole experience is pride in your work.” He speaks from experience because, as the son of the technical director, he has spent several years on the work crew, both before and after his mission.
There’s that word again—mission. You can’t help but make the comparison. The crew members talk about it all the time themselves. Some already have mission calls; some are expecting them to arrive any day. Yet others come to the crew wondering about whether they can succeed on a mission.
“But,” Brother Malcarne points out, “afterwards they come away saying, ‘I’ve served for six weeks here, and worked very hard. I’ve done my own wash for the first time—I’ve got blue underwear now, but I did my own wash.’ And they say, ‘Maybe a mission isn’t going to be that difficult after all.’”
Maybe? After the six weeks at the hill, one crew member even exclaims enthusiastically, “We can fly!” So when another says, with quiet confidence, that his motto has become “I can do this,” you believe him. He can.

This story took place in the USA.
“Magnolia! Lily!” Dad called. “Time for scriptures and prayer!”
Magnolia flopped on the floor next to their dog, Raindrop. Lily snuggled in her favorite blanket.
Family scripture time was fun. Sometimes they acted out the scripture stories together. It helped Magnolia picture the stories. Plus, Raindrop always helped when there were animals in the stories!
Dad opened his scriptures and read a verse. Then he passed the big, heavy Bible to Magnolia. They each took turns reading.
“And be ye kind one to another,” Magnolia read.*
She frowned. People weren’t always kind to her at church.
“Mom, Dad, can I talk to you about something?” she asked.
“Of course,” said Mom. “What is it?”
“At Primary yesterday, some kids told me we aren’t a good family because Dad isn’t a member of our church.”
Magnolia’s dad belonged to a different church. He went to sacrament meeting with their family on Sundays. He gave talks about the Holy Ghost at Lily’s and Magnolia’s baptisms. Everyone said he did a great job. He was an amazing dad.
“What they said made me want to cry.” Magnolia sniffed. “Why do people have to be so mean?”
Mom and Dad looked at each other.
“I’m glad you told us what happened,” Dad said. “Mom and I love each other very much. And our family is very important to us.”
Mom nodded. “And our family is important to Heavenly Father too. He loves all His children.”
Raindrop snuggled up to Magnolia. She scratched his ears.
“Heavenly Father knows us, and He knows we love each other,” Dad said. “No family is perfect, but we can keep trying our best.”
“But it still hurts when people say mean things about our family,” Magnolia said. “Jesus taught us to be kind to everyone. Saying mean things doesn’t seem like following Jesus.”
“You’re right,” said Dad. “Maybe when you feel like saying something mean, you can remember how you felt when others were unkind to you. Then you can say something kind instead.”
Magnolia took a big breath. “OK.” She was glad she could talk to Mom and Dad.
“Time for a family sandwich!” Dad pulled Lily and Magnolia into a big hug and squeezed them tight. Mom wrapped her arms around all three of them. Raindrop ran circles around everyone.
“I can’t breathe!” joked Lily. Magnolia laughed.
“Now remind me—whose turn is it to read?” Dad asked. He let go of the girls and picked up his scriptures.
“My turn!” said Lily. “And it’s Dad’s turn for prayer.”
When they finished reading, everyone knelt to pray. Magnolia felt peaceful as she listened to Dad say the prayer. She knew Heavenly Father loved her family.
Illustrations by Constanza Basaluzzo

On 26 October 1964 the city of Kingston, Jamaica, officially recorded the birth of twins. This was the beginning for me. I never knew my parents. I was raised by my grandmother. The first home I knew was a one-room wooden shack in the ghetto.
While growing up in the severe poverty of the ghetto, I realized how hard my grandmother worked for us. She would rise at five o’clock every morning from the tattered old bed she shared with five other family members. After waking us kids, she would take us to search for bricks. With the bricks we collected, Grandma built an oven to bake bread that would be sold to neighbors. Grandma struggled every day, yet she always had a smile on her face and seemed happy.
We didn’t have running water in our shack that combined with many others to form a compound. There was one main pipe. Everyone caught their water there in buckets. We had to take the water on our heads to our homes. The water pipe was surrounded by a green, muddy area; the children used it for a playground. Ghetto children didn’t always wear clothes. Usually they were just covered with mud and dirt. The toilets and bath places were placed in the center of the compound so everyone could use them.
Low self-esteem and lack of money in the neighborhood caused many there to turn to immorality as an escape. This led to higher population and congestion in the ghetto. Most people didn’t work; they depended on the government for food. To obtain nice clothes and other material possessions they would often steal.
My best friend was born outside in the streets. Her mother was only fourteen years old at the time. Following in her mother’s footsteps, my friend had her first child at the age of thirteen, making her mother a grandmother at age twenty-seven. She had her third child by the age of nineteen. After leaving her third boyfriend, she moved in with her mother, adding her three children to her mother’s six. My friend had the responsibility for nine children under the age of seven before she reached her twentieth birthday. As I looked at my friend’s life, I realized that I wanted something better for myself. I wanted a home and a family. I knew I had to leave the ghetto.
My grandma had taught me to pray at night before going to bed. But to whom was I praying? What was he like? Where did he come from? These were questions that couldn’t be answered. I felt as if I were in a dark and dreary world with no hope of light.
Determined to understand more about this mystery, I started attending the church to which we then belonged, because Grandma said God could be found there. But it didn’t do much good. It confused me more. They taught me about Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost, who, I was told, belonged to and were one with God.
I visited many other churches. When we studied the Bible and the life of Christ, I felt a very different feeling.
I discovered that this feeling had something to do with Christ, the Bible, the Holy Ghost, and God, but I was still confused. I started to pray and have trust in the Lord. Still, there was something missing. Although I could have the good feeling while reading the Bible, I couldn’t have that feeling with me all the time.
One teacher told me a way to retain this feeling was by being baptized, so I was baptized. But nothing changed. All churches seemed the same, so I decided to stay home and study on my own. I found myself praying more intensely for the Lord to help me find the true path that led to him. He heard my prayers.
I met a young man, and we became friends. For the next ten months we shared our ideas and thoughts about many things, but never religion. One day I found that my friend traveled with a Bible, so I asked him if he went to church and what the name of his church was. It was some long name—The Church of Jesus Christ of something something Saints. I wasn’t the least bit interested—it sounded like just another church to me.
My friend later told me he was going to serve the Lord for two years in another country. I figured he was going to be a pastor. When he left, I began to wonder what his church was like, and I began to search for their meeting place.
I found it a few months later, but I also found something more. As I walked through the doors of the meetinghouse, I felt a feeling impossible to describe; it was joy, peace, comfort, certainty, and happiness all in one. It was like coming home. My questions had now been answered.
The members of the church welcomed me with open arms. At first, I was reluctant to accept these welcomes because it was a little too much. I wasn’t used to so many people. They welcomed me whether they knew me or not. At the end of the meeting, a calm feeling came over me, and I heard these words in my mind: “Debbie, this is the place, and these are the people you have been searching for.”
Looking back, I see that my life in the ghetto was difficult and that a person could make it harder by making wrong choices. There was little opportunity for progression. But I wanted something worth living for. When the opportunity came to leave the ghetto with part of my family, I decided this was my chance.
Many of the girls I grew up with never left the ghetto. I could not have made it without following the desires of my heart and trusting in my Father above to lead me. I was blessed with the chance to leave the ghetto, be baptized a member of this church, gain an education, and fulfill a mission. I know Heavenly Father loves us all and is mindful of our circumstances, no matter where we are. He desires above all things that we find true happiness.

Elder Palmer stepped out of his hotel room and into the dimly lit hallway.
“Out of the way, young man.”
Elder Palmer turned toward the voice. “Pardon me.”
The man barely glanced at him from under the brim of his top hat as he bristled by.
Elder Palmer wanted to say, “I’m a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I have an important message for you.” But he didn’t. Instead, he shoved his hands in his overcoat pockets and trudged on toward the stairway. That man wouldn’t have believed his words anyway. Why should he? Why would anyone believe a teacher who had never even read the scriptures?
At the top of the stairs, Elder Palmer pulled a small reading primer from one pocket and his Bible from the other. “Just as soon as I learn how to read,” he whispered, “nothing is going to stop me from preaching the gospel.”
“It’s a disgrace for the Mormon Church to send an ignorant man to try to convert the good people of Michigan!”
Elder Palmer froze. He recognized the voice that boomed from the parlor below. It was the preacher he’d visited with last night.
“I know he’s rough-looking,” said a female voice, “but that doesn’t mean he’s ignorant.”
“I’ll prove to you I’m right. When he comes down this morning, I’ll ask him some questions about the Bible.”
Elder Palmer backed away from the stairs. The preacher was right. He was ignorant. Somehow, he had to get away! He raced down the opposite hall, looking for another stairway, but there wasn’t one. He was trapped.
With nowhere else to turn, he rushed back to his room and closed the door. If only he’d been able to go to school when he was a boy! He had spent most of his childhood blind. And even though he had eventually—miraculously—received his sight, he had only received enough to get around, not enough to read. It wasn’t until he was a grown man that he had been blessed with enough sight to read, but by then it was too late to go to school.
“I need help, Heavenly Father,” he whispered.
Suddenly he remembered a cold winter evening not long after he’d received his sight. He and his father had been trapped in a mountain snowstorm. They could not see the road. Their oxen were frightened and did not know the way home.
“Son,” his father had said, “we have done all we can to find our way. Now we must ask the Lord for help.”
They then knelt in the snow and prayed. Afterward, they steered the oxen in the direction they thought was right, and the animals, without hesitation, led them home.
This memory reminded him of the power of prayer. He dropped to his knees. “Heavenly Father, Thou hast called me to do Thy work. I have done all that I can, but I need Thy help.” When he finished, he went directly to the parlor.
The preacher waved to Elder Palmer. “Ah, Mr. Palmer, come in. These people—” the preacher motioned to several men and women—“have been discussing the Bible with me. Would you, as a minister, be so kind as to explain this passage?” He then read from his Bible.
Elder Palmer listened closely to the verses. When he was a boy, his mother had helped him memorize many scriptures, but he didn’t recognize these.
“Well?”
Elder Palmer looked hard at the preacher, and as he did so, the familiar voice of the Holy Ghost filled his mind. “It is interesting that you should ask me this,” he said, “as I have a scripture I would like you to explain to me.”
The preacher laughed. “Go ahead.”
“‘And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people.’”
“Oh, Mr. Palmer, that is not in our Bible. It must be in your Mormon Bible.”
“You will find it in Revelation 14:6.”
The preacher flipped to the book of Revelation. His face turned bright red. “Well, well. I have never seen that before. I will have to look it up in my Bible commentary.”
“That is the position I am in with your passage. Perhaps when we meet again we can explain to each other.”
The preacher nodded curtly, then turned back to the women who were seated on the circular sofa. One of them stood. “Mr. Palmer?”
“Yes?”
“You seem to have a good understanding of the scriptures. Can you please explain this verse to me?”
“I have a question, too.” It was the man he had bumped into earlier.
Elder Palmer smiled. He still felt a bit nervous, but he now realized that in many ways he was prepared to serve the Lord, and much of that preparation had come when he was a boy.
“I’d be happy to help each of you,” he said, “but I have one request. As you read from your Bible, please read slowly, and I will follow along in mine. That way, the Lord will help us both to understand.”

Most Creative Response
The most interesting reply to an invitation for a date that we’ve heard about came from Nikki Mather of Preston, Idaho. She responded to a dance invite from Wade Meek by delivering a jar full of Reese’s Pieces and M&Ms. She told him if there were more M&Ms than Reese’s Pieces, the answer was yes, and vice versa. It’s difficult, however, to tell one kind of candy from the other, so Wade had to have the whole family and half the neighborhood over to cut the candies in half, see if there was chocolate or peanut butter inside, and count them. When they were all tallied the answer was yes, of course.

In May 1833, my fourth-great-grandfather Asahel Perry and some friends traveled from northern New York to Kirtland, Ohio. They weren’t members of the newly restored Church, but they wanted to meet the Prophet Joseph Smith. They arrived just in time to attend the first council held to discuss the building of the Kirtland Temple.
After beginning the council, the Prophet presented the business of building the temple. Then he called upon those present to express their feelings related to such a large undertaking. Most responded that the Church was too poor to tackle such a task. They proposed construction of a smaller, less-expensive building.
During the ensuing discussion, Grandpa Perry and his friends huddled, took out their money, and added it up. Did they have enough to pay for their return trip and contribute to the temple’s construction? A few minutes later, my grandfather approached Joseph Smith, pulled out a five-dollar gold coin, and presented it to the Prophet. (Such a coin today would be worth hundreds of dollars!)
Joseph stood before the council and held up the coin. Then, speaking energetically, he said that “the work had commenced and the House [of the Lord] would be built according to the pattern presented” by the Lord Jesus Christ.
The Perry family soon joined the Church in Kirtland, received their temple blessings a few years later in the Nauvoo Temple, and later crossed the plains to Utah.

The first prophetic statement regarding the temple as given by Elder Cowley was recorded by a missionary to the Northern Far East Mission, Elder Harrison Ted Price in his journal in 1949. It was given on the site where the completed Tokyo Temple now stands, 5-8-10 Minami Azabu, Minato-Ku, Tokyo, Japan, the former location of the Northern Far East Mission and later the Tokyo Mission offices. Elder Price reported that a special dedicatory service was held in the library and foyer of the mission home, Sunday, July 17, 1949.
“In the dedicatory services for the mission home at 4:30 P.M., this afternoon, President Edward L. Clissold gave a fine talk summarizing the establishment of the mission here in Japan. This was followed by the dedicatory prayer given by Elder Cowley, which was one of the thrilling prayers that I have heard. In this prayer, he told of countless blessings from the Lord that have been enjoyed here to date, and went on to prophesy—‘there will someday be many church buildings—and even TEMPLES built in this land.’ I gave the closing prayer in this meeting.
“I was sitting on the front row in this gathering and clearly heard these words. The above quote is I believe the exact words that this great prophet said, for this prophetic prayer so impressed me at the time that I went to my room shortly after and wrote these words in my diary that I now have before me. This same day, I remember asking Elder Cowley specifically about his statements on buildings and temples in Japan, and he surprised several other elders and me by answering that he didn’t remember saying that, ‘But if I said that—that’s the way it will be.’ Other experiences with Elder Cowley have convinced me that when the Spirit of prophecy was upon him, he was sometimes as surprised as his listeners at the marvelous things that he said.” (Elder Harrison T. Price, Missionary Journal No. 3, p. 149, July 17, 1949, as recounted in a letter to President Paul Andrus, Northern Far East Mission, 1958.)

World population: six billion. Population of Duchesne, Utah: 1,500.
If you looked at a map of the world, you would need a strong magnifying glass to see this tiny mountain town tucked into the southern end of the Uintah Basin. Despite its high-desert beauty, most people just drive through Duchesne on their way to somewhere else.
But this small Utah town is important—so important it could change the world. And if those people driving through stopped for a while and really looked, they would see what’s so special about what they thought was just a dot on their map.
The young men, 16 and older, in the Duchesne Utah Stake have had a tantalizing taste of what it feels like to be a missionary. They held a stake missionary conference, planned by their leaders and two youth cochairs, that attempted to include some aspects of a two-year mission experience into two days. Of course, the young men only got a sampling of what it will really be like to be on a mission, but the experience is one they won’t soon forget.
Nearly 50 would-be missionaries arrived on a Friday afternoon at the Duchesne missionary training center—a.k.a. the Duchesne stake center—in their suits, toting their luggage, with their parents in tow. After a short devotional the young men went through one door into the cultural hall and their parents exited another to head back home (a la MTC fashion).
In the cultural hall, the young men were greeted with dinner, missionary packets, and an assigned companion. Outfitted with name tags that read “Brother_______,” the companionships headed to their first training classes. The classes covered a whole range of topics from learning the first missionary discussion and mission rules, to how to sort laundry and pack a suitcase.
Going to the conference was easier for some than for others. “I thought I had better things to do,” said Jeff Foster of the First ward. But he decided to go anyway. By Saturday afternoon he had changed his tune. “My parents are going to say, ‘I told you so!’” Jeff says. “There are people who don’t want to go on missions because they don’t want to leave their stuff behind—like their jobs and their music or whatever—but it’s worth it!”
“Those are all things you have to give up if you want to go on a mission,” agrees Eric Peatross, who was just called to the England Leeds Mission. Eric has many scholarship offers that won’t wait for him to come back in two years. He’s also leaving behind a job he loves, as well as his band. He says, “It involves a lot of prayer. You really have to know the gospel is true before you can turn all of those things down.” A testimony won’t come all at once, Eric says. His didn’t. He says his testimony, and his determination to go on a mission, came to him bit by bit as he did the things he knew he should be doing to be obedient. In other words, he prepared.
The conference was added preparation for Eric. “These two days have been like spiritual boot camp,” he says.
The levels of preparation at the conference varied from young man to young man. In one class, only one of eight knew how to sort laundry.
Housekeeping details aside, these young men know spiritual preparation is the most important aspect of getting ready for missionary work. Brian Bleazard says, “If I’ve learned anything at this conference it’s that I’m not the greatest teacher. You need the Spirit. It’s the Spirit that teaches.”
“It all comes down to your personal worthiness,” says Eric. Being worthy and obedient means you qualify for the companionship of the Spirit. All the young men were interviewed by their bishops before they went to the conference. The interview gave them a good idea of the things they need to be doing to be worthy to go to the temple and ready to go on a mission.
Their Saturday classes were not only preparing the young men for their missions but also for their teaching appointments later in the day. The companionships were assigned to teach the first discussion to families in their stake, some of which were part-member and less-active families.
“When we went to teach the first discussion I was really nervous, but it was fun,” says Roy Poulsen of the Fourth ward.
Courtney Moon, who was just called to the Mississippi Jackson Mission says, “I’ve always known the gospel is true in my mind, but trying to explain it to someone else really opens your eyes.”
“You’re nervous,” says Cris Hoopes, “but it is a good experience. It’s hard to teach investigators. You have to rely on the Spirit.”
Besides teaching the first discussion, the young men also did what every missionary spends a good deal of time doing: service. They spent all morning landscaping around a chapel, cleaning a section of highway, and beautifying the Duchesne River boardwalk. It was so hot many of the young men were tempted to jump into the river, but a quick check of their missionary handbooks told them swimming was against the rules.
They chose to obey mission rules, just as they are choosing to prepare themselves to go on full-time missions when they turn 19. They are working on their faith and obedience to the gospel. As future missionaries, they know that’s a top priority. Delaney Mecham of the First ward says, “We should all go on missions to bring people to the gospel and to help ourselves. When we’re on our missions our testimonies will grow even more than they have at this conference.”
So what exactly is so important about Duchesne? For one thing, it is the future missionaries preparing to serve the Lord. Their faith and missionary service will change the world one person at a time. And the person each missionary is planning to start with is himself.
“I throw out a challenge to every young man. … Prepare yourself now to be worthy to serve the Lord as a full-time missionary. He has said, ‘If ye are prepared ye shall not fear’ (D&C 38:30). Prepare to consecrate two years of your lives to this sacred service. That will in effect constitute a tithe on the first twenty years of your lives. Think of all that you have that is good—life itself, health, strength, food to eat and clothing to wear, parents, brothers and sisters, and friends. All are gifts from the Lord.
“Of course your time is precious, and you may feel you cannot afford two years. But I promise you that the time you spend in the mission field, if those years are spent in dedicated service, will yield a greater return on investment than any other two years of your lives. …
“And above and beyond all of this will come that sweet peace in your heart that you have served your Lord faithfully and well. …
“And so, my dear young brethren, resolve within your hearts today to include in the program of your lives service in the harvest field of the Lord as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” (Ensign, Nov. 1995, 52).—President Gordon B. Hinckley
“Young men and women who serve missions are never the same. They return home with qualities and strengths that seem to come from no other experience. They know, as they never knew before, that this work is true and that it is the most important work on the face of the earth” (Ensign, Dec. 1986, 4).—President Gordon B. Hinckley

Several years ago was assigned to go to Germany to take care of some important Church business. As I looked forward to that assignment, I worried a great deal. I knew there would be some very important interviews and that I do not speak German. I knew that most of those with whom I would conduct the Church business did not speak English. I felt helpless. After taking care of some work in English for about two weeks, I was finally on the plane to Germany. As I sat there pondering and praying, the voice of the Lord came into my mind, and gave me some instructions. You know, the Lord doesn’t speak in either English or German, and he can speak pure intelligence into our minds without passage of time. The message was something like this: “What are you worried about? There is another language, the language of the Spirit. Those brethren will know that language. You know the language. There will be no problem.” I was greatly comforted. And I had a great experience on that occasion.

It was only two days before the junior prom, and all the junior class was looking forward to one of the great events in the life of a high school girl.
To make it an even more memorable experience, the senior boys had drawn up a list of all the girls in the junior class. They made it their duty to be sure that each girl had a date. It was a wonderful gesture, and because of them, every girl in the junior class had a date. Everyone but me, that is.
Somehow I had been overlooked. The knowledge of that only added to my embarrassment, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone, not even my closest friends. I felt sure I would be able to live through this and simply hide away in my room for the night eating peanut butter cups. Everyone would be too caught up in the spectacular evening to realize I wasn’t there.
But that plan was also not to be my fate. I was reminded that the junior girls on the drill team were required to perform the "Couples Dance" after the introduction of class members. I would have to go to the prom without an escort, perform the dance, and leave by myself. Everyone in the world would know that I didn’t have a date to that all-important dance.
Two nights before the prom I locked myself in my room to perform the peanut butter cup ritual that I had earlier envisioned would take place on the night of the prom. I lit a solemn candle as a reminder that I alone carried this humiliating burden. Before I could take the first pitiful bite of candy, the tears were already racing down my face. What a lonely, sad creature I was. What a terrible day to remember and someday explain to my grandchildren, "Oh yes, the junior prom is a night I will never forget." I pictured myself quickly changing the subject with them so they wouldn’t know what a reject their old granny had been.
But as I sobbed in the middle of the greatest agony I had experienced in my young life, a wonderful, warm feeling of peace and love engulfed me. There were no words spoken to my mind, but suddenly I had full knowledge that I was not alone. My Savior was aware of my sorrow, very much aware. He had not forsaken me even when the outcome was not essential to my salvation. He cared enough for me to let me know He shared in my pain.
What a spectacular knowledge this was. Suddenly, my memories of the prom would not be as tarnished as I had imagined. One of the greatest truths of my life had been taught to me in a very special, loving way.
After that moment of sadness, everything changed. The next day the error was discovered and quickly rectified. Several boys apologized and insisted that they thought I already had a date. They were very thoughtful and concerned, and soon I had an escort.
The night of the prom was great, but it was nothing compared to what I had just experienced. Even though the decorations were beautiful, my dress was perfect, and I had that all-important date, that night could never compare to the feeling I had when the Spirit bore witness of the great love my Savior has for me. His love never fails, even when our pain is temporary, or even seemingly silly. It wasn’t essential to my salvation to go to the prom, but it is essential to know of the great love the Lord has for each of us. Now I know I’ll be able to truthfully tell my grandchildren that the junior prom was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

I live in Nairobi, Kenya, in Africa. We used to live in Austin, Texas, but my dad got a job with the United States Foreign Service, so now we live here.
After the first Sunday at church, I did not want to go to church anymore. I cried many times, wishing that all my Church friends were here. I could tell that I was losing faith. I told my dad my feelings, and he said to pray for understanding and to search the scriptures for the truth.
I did what he told me to do but did not feel any better. One night I prayed and sat waiting for something. Then I felt a warm feeling. I felt like Heavenly Father did not send me an answer the first time I prayed, because I already knew. He sent me an answer this time for reassurance.
I bear you my testimony that I really do know The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. I know that Jesus Christ died for us. I know that He lives and loves us. I love Him so much! I will always remember this branch and my experiences here. It may be a little different, but gospel principles are still taught here. I really like church now. The Primary leaders are great and very nice. I love being around them, and I can’t wait to go to church each week.

My father loved the leaders of the Church and was very faithful in doing what anybody asked him to do, but he battled a problem with the Word of Wisdom throughout his life. As a young boy, my father’s problem embarrassed me. Later I realized that if I could be as good a man as my father, then things would be all right. However, I knew that I couldn’t have my father forever unless he could qualify for the ordinances of the temple.
My father didn’t always attend Church meetings because of his Word of Wisdom problem. It was hard for Mother to take my brother and me to church alone, but she was always faithful and she always held callings in the Church. She was a wonderful example. We were taught well in our home.
Many other leaders helped me throughout my life. One of my Primary teachers gave me extra help to finish my requirements to graduate from Primary. She also taught my class the Articles of Faith, and she taught us about the lives of the members of the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Little did my teacher know that one day she would be my mother-in-law—I married her youngest daughter!
I grew up with a wonderful group of friends. No matter where we were, we had the support of our friends. I also had wonderful bishops. I remember one bishop who decided that we should go to general conference, so he invited my father, my brother, and me to go to the general priesthood meeting. After the conference the bishop positioned us where we could shake hands with most of the General Authorities. I have always remembered that experience. I have also always remembered the warm love of that bishop. He was a great friend to me, my brother, and my father for the rest of his life.
About 10 years before my father passed away, he overcame his challenge with the Word of Wisdom. How happy I was when my father became worthy to go to the temple! He went to the temple regularly before he died. When he went to the temple, I realized that if I lived right, I could be with my father and mother in the life hereafter.
Children, learn to love and be obedient to your parents. Also learn to respect authority in the Church and to respect your leaders. When we follow our leaders, we’re not going to go wrong.

A few months into his mission, our youngest son and his missionary companion were completing their study when our son felt a dull pain in his head. He felt very strange; at first he lost control of his left arm; then his tongue went numb. The left side of his face began to droop. He had difficulty speaking. He knew something was wrong. What he didn’t know was that he was in the middle of a massive stroke in three areas of his brain. Fear began to set in as he became partially paralyzed. How quickly a stroke victim receives care can have a dramatic effect on the extent of his healing. His faithful missionary companion acted decisively. After calling 911, he gave him a blessing. Miraculously, the ambulance was only five minutes away.
After our son was rushed to the hospital, the medical personnel quickly assessed the situation and determined they should administer a medicine to our son that could potentially reverse the stroke’s paralyzing effects over time.1 However, if our son was not having a stroke, the medicine could have severe consequences, such as bleeding in the brain. Our son had to choose. He chose to accept the medication. While full recovery required more operations and many months, our son eventually returned and completed his mission after the effects of the stroke were substantially reversed.
The missionary companion and the medical professionals who helped our stroke-afflicted son in the mission field acted quickly. Our son chose to receive the stroke-reversing medicine. The paralyzing effects of his stroke that could have followed him for the remainder of his mortal life were reversed. Likewise, the faster we repent and bring the Atonement of Jesus Christ into our lives, the sooner we can be healed from the effects of sin.

Luis Ricardo da Silva can answer that question. At one time he considered himself too unimportant for the Lord to pay attention to him. “I felt, why would God pay attention to someone of no importance like me? But now I know that Jesus loves me. I feel His Spirit, and I know Heavenly Father listens to my prayers.”
He knows because he has had prayers answered. He speaks quietly of times at home and school and church when the Lord has responded to his prayers. One experience stands out: “I was in the temple with friends one day doing baptisms for the dead. We decided to have a prayer in the dressing room of the baptistry. While we were praying we felt something special, as if a light had filled the room and someone else was with us. I had been praying to know that God really lives, and this was my answer. The feeling that I had was powerful. I just knew. Prayer is sacred.”

When our son Marco was three years old, he and I suffered a serious bout of food poisoning. Marco became so sick that he fell unconscious. My wife, Marianela, and I rushed him to the hospital. By the time we arrived, he looked like he was dead. Finally, after about four hours, he regained consciousness.
From then on, Marco suffered seizures off and on for the next five years. When we took him to bed each evening, we wondered if in the middle of the night, we would again have to rush him to the hospital. We had a difficult time sleeping during those stressful years, and we relied on prayer, faith, fasting, and priesthood blessings.
When Marco was about six, Marianela called me at work and told me to hurry to the hospital. Marco had suffered a serious seizure and was in a coma. When she called, I was working on the renovation of the Argentina Missionary Training Center, located adjacent to the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple.
Before I left for the hospital, a friend and fellow worker said, “Since we’re so close to the house of the Lord, why don’t we pray together first?” The temple was closed for renovation and expansion, but we approached the Lord’s house, where I prayed for Marco.
Despite everything we had gone through with Marco, I felt gratitude to God for the time Marianela and I had been able to share with him. As I prayed, I told Heavenly Father that we had tried to be good parents and had taken care of Marco the best we could. I also told Him that we would accept His will if He called Marco home.
When I arrived at the hospital, I didn’t know if Marco would survive the coma or, if he came out of it, whether he would be able to walk or talk again. After a grueling two hours, he awoke. He was exhausted, but he was all right. From then on, miraculously, he improved. Eventually, Marco was weaned off his medication and released for good from the hospital.
Marianela and I look back on that difficult time grateful that we still have Marco and grateful for the things we learned. Our trial united us and made us stronger spiritually. Without it, we might not have learned to recognize the many ways the Lord shows His hand in our lives.
As Marianela says, “We saw a mountain of evidence and experiences that have given us a testimony of the presence of God, that He is with us and that He listens to us. If we endure and have patience, blessings can come when we least expect them.”

I was raised on a small farm in northern Utah. We were blessed to have some land—not enough to make a living, but enough to make work for a young boy. My parents were good, hardworking people. In order to make ends meet, my father took an outside job. Each morning before he left for work, he made a list of chores I was to finish before he came home that evening.
I remember that on one occasion, one of the items on the list was to take a small, broken part of some farm equipment to the blacksmith shop to have it repaired. I was uncomfortable about going. My father hadn’t left any money, and I wondered what I should do. I put off going as long as I could. When all my other chores were finished, I knew that I couldn’t avoid it any longer. Father expected the broken part to be repaired when he came home, and it was my responsibility to see that it was done.
I can still remember walking the mile or so to the blacksmith shop. I even remember how uncomfortable I was watching the blacksmith weld the part. As he finished, I nervously told him that I had no money but that my father would pay him later. I’m sure that he saw how uneasy I was. He patted me on the shoulder and said, “Son, don’t worry. Your father’s word is as good as his bond.” I remember running all the way home, relieved that the part had been repaired and grateful that my father was known as a man whose word was as good as his bond.
As a boy, I didn’t fully understand what that meant, but I knew that it was good and something to be desired. It was years later when I recognized that a person whose word is as good as his bond is a person of honesty and integrity, a person to be trusted.

Our family had an experience that taught us about helping children develop their ability to make choices. Our daughter Mary was a standout soccer player growing up. One year her team made it to the championships and, wouldn’t you know it, that game was to be played on a Sunday. As a young teen, Mary had had years of teaching that the Sabbath was a day of rest and spiritual regeneration, not recreation. But she still felt pressure from her coaches and teammates to play, as well as a desire not to let her team down.
She asked us what she should do. My wife and I could easily have made this decision for her. However, we decided after prayerful consideration that in this case our daughter was ready to take spiritual responsibility for her own decision. We read some scriptures with her and encouraged Mary to pray and think about it.
After a few days she announced her decision. She would play the game on Sunday. Now what were we to do? After further discussion and receiving reassurance from the Spirit, we did as we had promised and permitted her to carry out her choice to play. After the game ended, Mary slowly walked over to her waiting mother. “Oh, Mom,” she said, “that felt awful. I never want to feel like that again. I’m never playing another game on the Sabbath day.” And she never did.
Mary had now internalized the principle of Sabbath keeping. If we had forced her not to play the game, we would have deprived her of a precious and powerful learning experience with the Spirit.

We didn’t see them, but we know that angels were with us on May 21, 2021. My husband was on his way home from work when he felt a strong impression to get home quickly. When he arrived at home, he sat with me on the porch where I was working on an online assignment. We had been talking for a few minutes when we heard a thumping noise. We ran to the bedroom where our 4-year-old daughter, Selena, had been playing on her bed next to the window, only to find that she was not there. Where was she? The screen was broken. She had fallen out of the window a long way to the ground! We found her under the house; my husband scooped her up in his arms and said that we needed to get her some water quickly. She was not crying until she saw how worried we were.
I took her and held her close to my chest, thanking God for saving her life. I was grateful that she was not even badly injured. I felt inspired to take her to the water faucet and get her wet, tap her body all over, massage her, and give her something to drink, which I did. When we brought her into the house and my husband gave her a priesthood blessing, I opened my eyes to see Selena with her eyes closed, reverently receiving her blessing.
A nurse came by to check her heart and oxygen levels, and they were good. After that, the doctor examined her and declared, “Mummy she is okay, God was watching over her.” The only injuries she received from her fall were a few scratches on her arm. I thank God for his blessings and for this miracle in Selena’s life. All the glory and honor be to His mighty name!