Gospel Story Finder

That first memorable experience led to other strong confirmations that God lives and that Jesus is our Lord and Savior. Many of these came in response to earnest prayer. As a child, when I lost things such as my precious pocketknife, I learned that if I prayed hard enough, I could usually find them. I was always able to find the lost cows I was entrusted with. Sometimes I had to pray more than once, but my prayers always seemed to be answered. Sometimes the answer was no, but most often it was positive and confirming. Even when it was no, I came to know that, in the Lord’s great wisdom, the answer I received was for my best good. My faith continued to grow as building blocks were added to the cornerstone, line upon line and precept upon precept.

One day at work, I felt heartbroken and alone. I believed I had failed my ancestors because of the many mistakes I had made. I pleaded with my Heavenly Father for strength.
A week or two later, a sister came up to me after church and asked if I was Jenny Casama. She introduced herself to me as Michelle (Mich) Bautista, one of our temple and family history consultants in the ward. She explained that she had a dream in which three women dressed in white and surnamed Casama had come to her for help. They pleaded with Sister Bautista, “Please help her.”
Sister Mich understood that these women were asking her to help their relative—me—to learn more about temple and family history work.
Sister Mich said to me, “Let’s see if we can find those women in your family tree.”
On the FamilySearch website, we discovered records for my grandmother Damasa Casama; her sister Emiliana Casama; and my great-grandmother Eugenia Casama. Without any doubt, we knew they were the women in the dream. A sweet feeling of peace passed over me, and I felt my ancestors’ love overflowing at that very moment. We wept because of the happiness we felt in our hearts. I felt that they cared much about me, and in return, I had a deep feeling of love for them.
I then realized my responsibility to help them and my other ancestors to receive the ordinances of the temple. Our ancestors have been waiting—some for a long time—for us on the earth to perform these sacred ordinances for them.
Later that year, I was baptized in the temple for these three ancestors. I testify of the beauty of family history work and of the power it brings into my life.

After days of working long hours in the hot sun, I became exhausted. Eventually, I got sick.
I called the full-time missionaries, and we scheduled a time to meet at the branch site. When I arrived the following day, nobody was there. As I waited outside, I prayed, “Heavenly Father, I know You can heal me, if that is Thy will. Please help me.”
The missionaries soon arrived with the branch president. When these three priesthood holders laid their hands on my head, I felt the power of the Holy Ghost run from the top of my head to my toes. Immediately I was healed.
In a small town far from my home country, I sought help from priesthood holders. The Lord blessed me through His priesthood and my faith. In my travels since then, I have asked for many blessings from priesthood holders worldwide. I am grateful to know that priesthood power held by worthy priesthood holders is the same in every land.

“Also when I was five years old, my family moved to southern California, where my great love became the Pacific Ocean. I used to enjoy going down to the beach almost every day to go surfing. When I was about seven years old, a decision was made to build a new chapel. It was for the Santa Monica Ward, and it is still being used today. I remember well the day of the ground-breaking. Mother had explained to me that men with shovels would turn the earth over for the ground-breaking ceremony. I remember taking my little sand shovel so that I could help break ground with the men. It gave me a feeling of pride in that building that has never left me. I felt that I was truly a part of it.

“When I was about ten or eleven years old, I was involved with Primary. My teacher, Sister Zundell, was a very special person. She always taught us so effectively about the Savior. Many times while she was teaching, a little tear would trickle down her cheek, and it always impressed me that she had such tender emotions about the Savior. She taught us about His life and His teachings, which had a profound effect upon me. I can’t tell you the words or the stories that she told us; but just the way she did it, with the tears that would come, had a great effect upon me and the others in the class.

“When I was in sixth grade, I was elected student body president, which they called ‘mayor’ in those days. I was mayor of the school and used to wear my mayor’s badge. It was an honor that I’ve always appreciated. About this time, also, I was a member of an organization called the Western Rangers. This was before there was a Cub Scout program. We went on camping trips to the nearby mountains, and we had some exciting times doing the things that Scouts do.

“I always had in the back of my mind the thought that one day I would be a missionary. When I was old enough to serve on a mission, there was a terrible depression, and Dad was out of work. I did all kinds of odd jobs to earn and save enough money for a mission. I still remember the day I received my call: My boss, who was not a Mormon, called me in and told me he was very proud that one of his boys had been called to be a missionary. He gave me a check for fifty dollars, which in those days kept a missionary going for three months. I was called to New Zealand, and I served there for three full years. When I arrived there, I remember thinking that I was going to help those people become good, solid Christians. But after three years, I realized that they had taught me as much about being a good Christian as I had taught them—lessons of patience, kindness, gentleness, and compassion. Their Polynesian life-style was different from anything I had ever seen, and it was beautiful to see. That mission experience really changed my life and gave it new direction.

“The Maoris are often referred to as a nation of children. This is in no way a derogatory term; it is used because these people have such total faith and sincerity. If they make mistakes, they quickly repent. I was fortunate to be able to spend nine years of my life in New Zealand. The first three were as a young missionary, the second three as mission president, and the last three as executive administrator for all the Pacific Islands, with headquarters in New Zealand. I am grateful for the temples being built in Tahiti, Samoa, and Tonga, as well as for those already in use in New Zealand and Hawaii. A large percentage of temples are built for the Polynesians because of their faithfulness and their interest in genealogy.

“The greatest advice that I can give to the children of the world is for them to learn obedience and loyalty. I’m thinking, first of all, of being obedient and loyal to their parents and not showing disrespect of any kind to them. This carries over to obedience and loyalty to the prophet.

“I would like to add just one word about soft-speaking. Our home was a ‘soft-spoken’ home, and now my children won’t have it any other way in their homes. If we are going to invite the Savior to be a part of our family circle, we need kindness and gentleness in our homes.”

President Hinckley’s sense of humor gives him a light touch in many settings. For example, while chairing a budget session held early one afternoon in which Church Educational System managers were presenting their budget needs for the coming year, feelings became intense. Another General Authority turned to President Hinckley and asked, “What do you think?” President Hinckley, who had been listening with his chin resting on the palms of his hands, replied: “I think I am never again going to have stuffed pork chops for lunch.” Everyone laughed, and the tension was diffused.

As I cleaned the beauty shop after school, I found a half-full jug of wine left over from a party. I asked my boss what I should do with it. “Dump it out, and throw away the bottle,” he said as he left. He locked the door on his way out, and I was alone. I continued my usual cleaning routine, but that bottle of wine was on my mind. I was 14 and had never tasted wine. I was tempted.
I cleaned the restroom, sanitized the hairbrushes, and mopped the floor, thinking the entire time about that jug of wine in the back workroom. I knew one taste would not make me drunk. I knew that nobody else would ever know. With that thought I realized that I would know and so would my Heavenly Father. My struggle was over. I knew I would be sorry if I gave in to this temptation, and I wanted to be strong enough to resist all temptations. I poured the wine down the drain, rinsed the bottle, and dropped it into the trash.
This experience might seem unimportant except for the difference it made in me. I had made a decision that I would keep the commandments even when nobody was looking. I wanted to do the right thing for the right reason. I now know that I have the strength to resist temptation, and I feel more confident that I can walk the path back to my Heavenly Father.
Beth M. Stephenson, Oklahoma, USA

Once there was a man who enjoyed taking evening walks around his neighborhood. He particularly looked forward to walking past his neighbor’s house. This neighbor kept his lawn perfectly manicured, flowers always in bloom, the trees healthy and shady. It was obvious that the neighbor made every effort to have a beautiful lawn.
But one day as the man was walking past his neighbor’s house, he noticed in the middle of this beautiful lawn a single, enormous, yellow dandelion weed.
It looked so out of place that it surprised him. Why didn’t his neighbor pull it out? Couldn’t he see it? Didn’t he know that the dandelion could cast seeds that could give root to dozens of additional weeds?
This solitary dandelion bothered him beyond description, and he wanted to do something about it. Should he just pluck it out? Or spray it with weed killer? Perhaps if he went under cover of night, he could remove it secretly.
These thoughts totally occupied his mind as he walked toward his own home. He entered his house without even glancing at his own front yard—which was blanketed with hundreds of yellow dandelions.
Does this story remind us of the words of the Savior?
“Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? …
“… First cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.”2

When I was six, an older couple in our ward wanted to find a good home for their dog, Max. They knew our family would love Max. So we adopted him!
A few weeks later, some of our friends came to stay with us for a few days. Our house was full of playful children running all over.
But Max was used to a nice, quiet home. Being in a house full of noisy children made him very nervous. One day when we were playing and laughing, we suddenly realized that Max was gone!
We looked everywhere for Max. I was near tears as my mom drove us all over the neighborhood. We even checked with Max’s first owners. But he was nowhere to be found.
When we got home, someone said, “Let’s pray for Max!” We knelt in a circle and said a simple prayer. We asked Heavenly Father for ideas for where to look for Max.
Just as we said “amen,” a bark came from the closet! It was Max!

When Matt was in junior high, he was standing at the bus stop absentmindedly kicking rocks. One of them accidentally hit the shoe of a fellow classmate—the wrong classmate. He was smaller than Matt, and younger, but he just happened to be a member of a very wild gang. The boy began pounding Matt in front of all the other kids at the bus stop. Matt didn’t fight back, knowing that if he did he’d have the entire gang to deal with. He went home humiliated.
Matt got over the incident when he left junior high. Everything was much better in high school and got even better in college. What he learned was that, basically, there are very few situations in life that are permanent. Time heals wounds, and embarrassment.

I first heard of Jose and Juana Yefi and their seven children from President Julio Otay when, as a regional representative, I visited the Puerto Montt Stake. From his accounts of the Yefis and their experiences in the Church, I decided I wanted to meet them. They are members of the Estacion Ward, but to make the journey to the Yefi home is much more complicated than just walking down the street from the meetinghouse located in Puerto Vardas. It’s a three-part adventure by bus, boat, and horse. President Otay and I decided to make the journey September 17 and 18, during a national holiday in Chile.
When we set out from Puerto Varas, it was a beautiful morning announcing the arrival of spring in that part of the world. For the first part of our journey, we traveled ninety minutes by bus to Petrohue on the shore of Todos los Santos Lake. Our bus wended its way around the southern shore of Llanquihue Lake with the cone of the majestic volcano Mount Osorno as a backdrop. We planned to take the regularly-scheduled boat across Todos los Santos Lake, but we were told it had departed early loaded with tourists. So we rented a private boat—which happened to be owned by Brother Yefi’s cousin—for the three-hour trip. For those three hours we enjoyed the natural beauty around us. The lake, also known as “Emerald Lake” for the color of its waters, sparkled in the sunshine, and to our right rose the magnificent Monte Tronador Mountains. It was a wonderful way to celebrate a national holiday, and I thanked my Heavenly Father for my having been born in such a beautiful country.
When we arrived at the point where we were supposed to meet Brother Yefi, he wasn’t there. We discovered that he had been waiting for us at the other end of the lake at a small dock where the tourist boat pulled in. While he crossed the lake in his boat to meet us, we visited with the Miranda family, who lived close to the lake. Jose Miranda, Brother Yefi’s brother-in-law, and his family are members of the Church as a result of the Yefi family’s missionary work. I’ll tell more about them later.
Brother Yefi finally arrived and upon meeting this man of obvious Lamanite descent, with his sincere smile and shining eyes, I felt a definite kinship.
We set out on the last part of our journey to the Yefi home—two hours by horseback around and through thick forests of coigue, laurel, tepu, and ulmo trees. As we rode, we were serenaded by the sound of the Sin Nombre River hurrying downhill to the lake.
Finally we arrived in the El Callao Valley, where the Yefi family lives in complete seclusion. As we got off our horses, the children excitedly greeted us. At first I assumed that they were thrilled to see visitors. But I soon realized that their excitement was for their father, whom they hugged as if they hadn’t seen him for a long time. Sensing a special bond between father and children, I later learned that Brother Yefi himself had delivered five of his seven children into the world.
Springtime had reached this high mountain valley, with a profusion of yellow flowers outside the Yefi’s wood frame home. Inside, a sign in the dining room proclaimed, “Our Goal is to Build an Eternal Family.” As we visited with the Yefis that evening, I learned about the roots of their faith in the gospel.
Brother Yefi told us how he was introduced to the Church.
“Since I was a child,” he said, “I had suffered from nosebleeds. One time, after I was married, I suffered a nosebleed so severe that I fainted and had hallucinations. When I recovered, I thought I had gone on to the next life. But I was glad to see my wife by my side taking care of me.
“I decided to go to see a doctor in Puerto Varas. While I was at a friend’s house, he told me that two young men lived nearby who ‘cured’ people in the name of the Lord. Since I have always been a faithful man, I went to see them and asked them how much they charged for a blessing. The young men, who stood out because of their white shirts, told me, ‘We don’t charge money to bless one of our brothers. If you have faith that you will be healed with the blessing we give you, it will be the Lord who will really cure you.’
“They then invited me to sit down, but I told them, ‘I don’t feel comfortable when I’m sitting down. I would feel better kneeling.’ The missionaries put their hands on my head and gave me a blessing. The experience was marvelous. I felt warm all over my body, and I had no doubt that it was God’s power curing me. Never again did I have a nosebleed.
“After this experience, I asked the missionaries what I had to do to become a member of their Church. They asked me if I was married. I told them yes, and we made an appointment to meet together with my wife the following Sunday. The missionaries presented the first discussion, and then they asked us to return the next week for the second discussion. But I told them that because of the distance involved, I wanted them to baptize us then. So we received all the discussions and were baptized the same day, 28 September 1979.
“It’s a long distance between our home and the church, but we attended Sunday meetings as often as possible. On one of our visits, I was interviewed by the branch president to be ordained to the Aaronic priesthood.”
President Otay, who was Brother Yefi’s branch president at that time, challenged him to pay tithing and prepare himself to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. A few months after the interview, on a rainy, wet day, Brother Yefi appeared and asked to speak with the president about paying his first tithing donation. President Otay invited him to come in, but Brother Yefi said that he had his tithing outside—three sacks of potatoes.
Imagine this brother’s faithfulness in keeping the Lord’s commandments! He had transported three sacks of potatoes by horseback, boat, bus, and then wagon to the church.
Listening to Brother Yefi testify of the law of tithing is a special experience. “Before leaving home to bring our tithing to the bishop,” he said, “I pray to Heavenly Father to bless me that I might be honest. I would not like to have the feeling that I have stolen what really belongs to Him.”
Brother Yefi testified that the Lord has greatly blessed his family for obeying the law of tithing. At the time he was baptized, he said, he had only the minimum of necessities to sustain his family—a team of oxen which he used to plow the earth, a horse, and a few goats and sheep. But, he said with great reverence, since learning the gospel and paying his tithing, “We have been greatly blessed. I have horses, goats, sheep, and nine milking cows that give us enough milk to feed our children and to make cheese to sell. And we sow and harvest our own wheat. We are very blessed!”
As a part of the Yefis’ goal of building an eternal family, they have eagerly shared the gospel with their extended family members. Brother Yefi’s father, Prudencio Yefi Calbucan, was the first relative to listen to the gospel message. Next his brother, Segundo Prudencio Yefi Aguilar, his brother’s wife, Maria Isabel de Yefi, and one of their daughters became interested. Then his brother-in-law, Jose Nolberto Miranda Diaz—who we had met at the lakeshore—his wife, Maria Francisca de Miranda, his oldest son Juan Heriberto Miranda Yefi, and two younger daughters wanted to learn more.
Brother Yefi taught them all the missionary discussions. Then they all made the journey to Puerto Varas to be interviewed by the full-time missionaries. After the interviews, Brother Yefi baptized them. He also challenged them to receive the temple endowments which he and Sister Yefi had already done. (The Mirandas’ oldest son was serving in the Chile Vina del Mar Mission at the time of our visit.)
On the second day of our visit, Sunday, President Otay authorized Brother Yefi to conduct regular church services in his home, except when the family journeys to Puerta Varas to pay tithing to the bishop.
We joined the Yefis, with their relatives, in Sunday School and sacrament service—eighteen members altogether.
Brother Yefi taught a lesson from the book of Moroni. As he read from chapters six and seven about baptisms, fellowshipping and preaching by the power of the Holy Ghost, tears rolled down our checks.
When the lesson was finished, we sang a hymn. Even without a piano or a knowledge of music, the Yefi family sang with a spirit that compensated for any wrong notes. Then Brother Yefi asked the visitors to speak.
When it was my turn to speak, I told them, “I realize that you are eager to learn from anything I might say, but I can assure you that from this visit I have learned more from you than what you can learn from me.”
As I told the Yefi family good-by later that day, I thought about the lessons I had learned from them. I learned about being faithful to the Lord in every circumstance. I learned that although a great distance separated the Yefis from the church meetinghouse, there was no distance between them and the Lord. Many of us who have dozens of neighbors around us do not share the gospel, yet the Yefis have taught, fellowshipped, and baptized their nearest neighbors and relatives.
From the Yefis, I learned about making the temple a priority. Many of us who have relatively easy access to a temple make one excuse after another for not attending. The Yefis have already traveled a great distance to Santiago to be sealed in the temple. And whenever they can make the journey to that city, the temple is their first priority.
I left the beautiful El Callao Valley strengthened in my own testimony of the gospel and in my commitment to obey the Lord. The Yefis’ influence for good has reached beyond the isolation of their mountain home.

The first two names that appear on the fourth company of the Nauvoo Temple register for that very day, February 3, 1846, are John and Jane Akerley, who received their endowments in the Nauvoo Temple that evening. They were humble, new converts to the Church, without wealth or position. Their temple work was their final concern as they were leaving their home in Nauvoo to come west. It was fortunate that President Young granted the wish of the Saints to receive their temple blessings because John Akerley died at Winter Quarters, Nebraska. He, along with over 4,000 others, never made it to the valleys of the Rocky Mountains. William Clayton’s classic Mormon hymn “Come, Come, Ye Saints” captures well their faith: “And should we die before our journey’s through, happy day! All is well!”
...
John and Jane Akerley and the others of the multitude who waited in the bitter cold to enter the majestic Nauvoo Temple received within its walls the greatest blessings offered by the Lord in this life. They endured much, but their suffering was just beginning. Their temple blessings helped strengthen them for what lay ahead. Separated by death in Winter Quarters, they were able to endure all things because of their faith and the blessings received that cold February night in 1846.

When I was set apart as one of two Sunday School teachers for our Young Adult class in Taipei, Taiwan, my bishop promised that the Holy Spirit would help me whenever I needed it. I didn’t realize then how important that promise would be.
I was among the younger members in the class, so I was nervous. It helped having a teaching partner. She would give the lesson one week, and I the next. I diligently prepared my lessons, and people told me how much they enjoyed them. I felt that everything was under control.
Then one Sunday I went to class and found that my teaching partner, who was to teach the lesson that day, wasn’t there. My face was pale as I ran to telephone her.
“I’m sorry,” she said sleepily. “What time is it? I guess I overslept.” She was still in bed, and the class should have already started!
As I crossed the hallway to the classroom, my stake president greeted me with a smile. “My wife and I would like to join your class today,” he said brightly. Too surprised to say anything, I weakly nodded my head and smiled feebly. My only thought was on the lesson, which, if I remembered correctly, was based on 3 Nephi, chapters 15 through 19. [3 Ne. 15–19]
Seven minutes of class time had passed when I walked into the crowded room. The class president offered a prayer. Then, with trembling hand, I opened the Book of Mormon. I had planned to invite class members to share their testimonies, because I didn’t know what else to do. But as I began reading the scriptures, I felt some power greater than myself helping me select appropriate verses for discussion. My tongue was loosed, in the same way the Lord had promised Oliver Cowdery: “And at all times, and in all places, he shall open his mouth and declare my gospel as with the voice of a trump, both day and night. And I will give unto him strength such as is not known among men” (D&C 24:12).
Never in my life had I felt such humility. I knew that it wasn’t me, but the Spirit, that was teaching. I felt as though I was the Lord’s musical instrument, and he was filling the classroom with beautiful harmony through me. I was so overwhelmed that I felt physically weak.
Joyfully I read with the class the profoundly touching scene when the Savior said to the Nephites: “Blessed are ye because of your faith. And now behold, my joy is full. And when he had said these words, he wept” (3 Ne. 17:20–21).
There wasn’t a sound in the room. Everyone had tears in their eyes. To me, the account we had read was more than just words. In my mind I could vividly see the Savior and those faithful disciples around him. I could sense that the Savior was close to us, and we to him.
Finally, I shared the prayer of the Savior for the Nephites when he asked that, “because of their faith, … they may be purified in me, that I may be in them as thou, Father, art in me, that we may be one, that I may be glorified in them” (3 Ne. 19:29). “Think about that,” I said to the class. “Our Savior may be glorified in us, if we purify ourselves and become one with our Lord. What bliss, and what a blessing!”
Then I wept.
This wonderful experience was a fulfillment of my bishop’s promise. It taught me that the Lord has great love for us and that the Spirit is always there to help us if we live worthily and abide by the counsel of those who preside in righteousness over us.

Strength and courage also characterize another couple. As faithful members of the Church, they had always upheld its doctrines, including the twelfth article of faith. When their country went to war, military conscription called the dutiful husband away from his wife before either had learned she was to bear their child. He was captured by enemy troops and taken as a prisoner of war. Months elapsed. Their baby came. Still no word to know whether the new father was alive. A year after his capture, he was permitted to write to his wife.
Meanwhile, though countries apart, they each remained faithful to covenants made at baptism. Even though clothed in prisoner’s stripes and able to speak the language of his captors’ country only in a limited way, he became Sunday School superintendent of the branch. He baptized four fellow prisoners during their confinement. Three years after the war ended, he returned home to his wife and a son he had never seen. Later, he served for ten years as the first stake president of his country. Now he is a member of the presidency of one of our temples! His wife stands faithfully beside him in the privilege of that sacred assignment.

I have never before read such a profitable and edifying publication as the Liahona (Spanish). I’m a young person who has never really cared to read. And when I started to read the magazine, I didn’t think I would find anything that would motivate me to search the scriptures and help me understand the message of the Lord Jesus Christ. But as I read the January 2000 issue, the talk “The Faith of a Sparrow: Faith and Trust in the Lord Jesus Christ” by Elder H. Bruce Stucki of the Seventy had a real impact on my life—so much so that I have continued to study the scriptures.
Thanks to our Heavenly Father and His missionaries, I have found the truth, and I am going to be baptized. Thank you for preparing missionaries to teach people like me.
Alexi Antonio López López,Oriental Ward, San Miguel El Salvador Stake
Note: Brother López was baptized on 18 March 2000, shortly after this letter was written.

The spicy scent of spaghetti sauce wafted through the air as Joseph and his family sat down for Sunday dinner. Dad said the prayer, and the food started its way around the table.
“Let’s play Movie Quotes!” Joseph declared.
Movie Quotes was his favorite game to play around the dinner table. His mom, dad, and two sisters, Jill and Julia, enjoyed the game too. One person would quote from a movie the family had seen. Then everyone else would try to be the first one to guess which movie the quote was from.
“Perhaps we should play a different game,” Mom said. “Since it’s Sunday, maybe we should play Scripture Quotes.”
“What’s that?” Joseph asked.
“I’ll think of a quote from the scriptures, and all of you try to guess who said it,” Mom said.
“That sounds boring,” Joseph said. “Besides, I don’t know any quotes from the scriptures.”
“I’ll go first!” Jill said. “‘I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded.’”
Julia’s hand shot up. “Nephi said that!”
“You guessed it, Julia. Now it’s your turn to think of one,” Jill said.
“Let me see. … All right, guess this one if you can: ‘This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!’”
This time Dad raised his hand. “That’s what Heavenly Father said to Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove.”
“That’s right,” Julia said. “Way to go, Dad!”
Joseph slowly began to sit up a little straighter in his chair.
“I want to come up with a really hard one,” Dad said. “How about this: ‘Let my people go.’”
Joseph’s hand popped up. “Hey, Moses said that. That was easy.”
“That’s right. Now you think of one,” Dad said.
Joseph rested his chin on his hand. Then a smile swept across his face as he remembered his Primary lesson from earlier that day. Sister Morris had talked about the time Jesus’s disciples had tried to keep some children from approaching Him. “‘Suffer the little children to come unto me,’” Joseph said.
Once again Julia raised her hand. “Jesus said that.”
“You guessed it!”
They played until everyone had finished dinner.
Later that night, as Mom tucked Joseph into bed, he said, “I guess that game wasn’t so bad after all.”
“You came up with a really good quote today,” Mom said.
“Thanks. Can we play it again next Sunday?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Mom said. She gave him a hug and a kiss and left his room.
Joseph snuggled into his covers, smiling. A new Sunday tradition had just begun.

Photograph courtesy of Stefanie D.
I had always been an active member of the Church, but after my divorce, I lost focus of Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and my faith. I met someone, and we started living together. My whole life changed. I felt that I was totally in the dark, and I stopped attending church because I felt that I didn’t belong.
But I did continue attending institute. And during this time, a service missionary I met at institute invited me to join BYU–Pathway. I was hesitant, but she promised it would change my life. So I decided to try it for one semester. However, I soon had my first child and didn’t know how to handle being a new mom along with pursuing an education, so I quit.
Later on, I remembered how great I felt during that one semester. I had felt so close to Heavenly Father and wanted that feeling back. So a year later, I started BYU–Pathway again, and many blessings came into my life right after.
I started a beautiful repentance process, married the man I was living with, and even received my temple recommend. Later, I was called to be the Relief Society president. Now I am serving as an institute teacher and love it! My husband has also been learning more about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
We will be able to take all the knowledge we learn into the next life (see Doctrine and Covenants 130:18–19). BYU–Pathway is not just an education—it brought me back to the Lord’s wonderful path.
Stefanie D., Wanica, Suriname

Climbing trees is one of those childhood joys that often sticks with you even as you grow older. Of course, not many people take it to the same heights as Hunter S., a 17-year-old young man from Washington, USA.
Several years ago, Hunter’s father showed him a video on climbing Mount Everest. Instantly, Hunter knew he wanted to become a mountaineer. For training, he began running every day and scaling a massive pine tree in his backyard with climber’s equipment.
He started climbing smaller peaks with some peers, and then he moved on to higher ones with his dad and brother. Soon, climbing Mount Rainier became his goal. At over 14,000 feet (4,267 meters), this peak requires some serious training. While conditioning for the attempt, however, Hunter found an even bigger problem to tackle.
A local baby named Casen was born with a rare genetic disorder that has no known cure. Hunter knew Casen’s family needed all the help they could get to provide medical treatments. He decided to make his climb a fund-raising effort. “Climb for Casen” was born. “I felt the Spirit confirm that this is what I’m supposed to do,” says Hunter.
Not only did he successfully summit Mount Rainier after two long days of climbing with an accomplished team, but he raised $13,000 (well beyond his goal of $10,000) for Casen’s medical treatments. The public certainly rallied, donating to the fund-raiser.
Hunter compares mountaineering to living the gospel. “I couldn’t just climb Mount Rainier without doing any training,” Hunter says. “As with faith, I had to exercise, get the proper training, and do the right things. With the gospel, we can’t just say that we want a closer relationship with Christ. We need to actually keep the commandments.”
Photographs courtesy of Hunter S.

I want to share two more examples of integrity and honesty involving students at Brigham Young University–Idaho. I believe the simplicity and seemingly ordinary nature of these events make them extraordinary.
The first episode was described in a letter from a local business owner that I received while serving as president at BYU–Idaho.
“A girl living in one of the dorms stopped in, shopping for a tie to send to her boyfriend who is serving a mission. She took a close look at the ties and found a great looking one. We stepped over to the checkout counter, and I rang up the sale. She paid with a check and left. I went about my work, and about an hour later I looked up and saw the same girl walking into the store. She had an interesting smile on her face as she walked up to me. She handed me a check and explained that I had accidentally put the check she had written back into the sack along with the cash register receipt and the tie. I really did slip up on this one! We laughed, and I thanked her and told her that I really did admire her honesty.”
This young woman clearly exhibited integrity and honesty with other people. She is also increasing in integrity and honesty with God and with herself.

Jesus told the leader of the synagogue, “Be not afraid, only believe.”28 Discipleship is believing Him in seasons of peace and believing Him in seasons of difficulty, when our pain and fear are calmed only by the conviction that He loves us and keeps His promises.

I recently met a family who is a beautiful example of how we believe Him. Olgan and Soline Saintelus, from Port-au-Prince, Haiti, told me their story.

On January 12, 2010, Olgan was at work and Soline was at the church when a devastating earthquake struck Haiti. Their three children—Gancci, age five, Angie, age three, and Gansly, age one—were at home in their apartment with a friend.

Massive devastation was everywhere. As you will remember, tens of thousands lost their lives that January in Haiti. Olgan and Soline ran as fast as they could to their apartment to find the children. The three-story apartment building where the Saintelus family lived had collapsed.

The children had not escaped. No rescue efforts would be devoted to a building that was so completely destroyed.

Olgan and Soline Saintelus had both served full-time missions and had been married in the temple. They believed in the Savior and in His promises to them. Yet their hearts were broken. They wept uncontrollably.

Olgan told me that in his darkest hour he began to pray. “Heavenly Father, if it be thy will, if there could be just one of my children alive, please, please help us.” Over and over he walked around the building, praying for inspiration. The neighbors tried to comfort him and help him accept the loss of his children. Olgan continued to walk around the rubble of the collapsed building, hoping, praying. Then something quite miraculous happened. Olgan heard the almost inaudible cry of a baby. It was the cry of his baby.

For hours the neighbors frantically dug into the rubble, risking their own lives. In the dark of the night, through the piercing sounds of hammers and chisels, the rescue workers heard another sound. They stopped their pounding and listened. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. It was the sound of a little child—and he was singing. Five-year-old Gancci later said that he knew his father would hear him if he sang. Under the weight of crushing concrete that would later result in the amputation of his arm, Gancci was singing his favorite song, “I Am a Child of God.”29

As the hours passed amid the darkness, death, and despair of so many other precious sons and daughters of God in Haiti, the Saintelus family had a miracle. Gancci, Angie, and Gansly were discovered alive under the flattened building.30

A sister in Mexico City was 16 years old when the missionaries came to her door. She says that as they taught with the Spirit, “it seemed like they had taken the bandages off my eyes and that the Lord was clearing my understanding. … The word of God and my prayers strengthened [me] to overcome my next trial, to face my father. When I met rejection from my family because of my baptism, the Spirit of the Lord strengthened me by whispering: ‘Keep on. Go on. Some of your relatives will become members of the Church.’”