Gospel Story Finder

I felt sad when we moved from Bogotá to Barranquilla because I had to leave my family, friends, and school. But when I went to the Barranquilla Colombia Temple open house, I felt happy. I’d never been inside a temple before. I saw the baptistry, celestial room, and sealing rooms. It was cool to think that our ancestors can be sealed to us and we can see them again. I love the temple and am preparing to return again soon.
Martín G., 11, Barranquilla, Colombia

“I’ve never had it easy,” says Dahvana Daneisha Shanika Providence from Saint Vincent.
After attending different schools due to constant changes in her earlier education and having health issues during her secondary education, she felt the need to achieve her dreams.
Having obtained second place on her first pageant, she decided to pursue her dreams in the textile world.
Being persistent in that dream has gotten Dahvana a scholarship in New York to study fashion after winning Miss Venus Model Caribbean 2018.

I felt so behind in everything. I had been having trouble with my algebra class. I wasn’t turning in my homework, and I was doing poorly on tests. I was not used to failing at anything, so I didn’t understand why I just couldn’t get the hang of math. My discouragement was affecting my attitude in my other classes as well. I was starting to become really lazy, which was a total change in me. Just the year before, I was attentive in all my classes, and I asked for help if I didn’t understand.
I finally decided I needed to do something about it, so I did something I had never done before: I sat down without any distractions and said a heartfelt prayer to my Heavenly Father. I asked Him to help me understand the work and to help me feel the Spirit as well. I then went into my brother’s old room, put on some Church music, and started to do my homework.
The easier problems went quickly, but when they got harder and harder, I was still able to answer them. I felt as if I were on a cloud. I was so relieved and overjoyed. I had never said a prayer for something and received the answer so quickly. From then on I started doing better in all of my classes.
When fast and testimony meeting came on Sunday, I felt my heart try to leap out of my chest, and my hands became clammy. I finally got the courage to share my testimony. For the first time, I said the Church was true and really meant it in my heart. I still have a lot to learn about the Church—and about math—but I will gladly take anything that comes my way. Although it took a lot of time and effort, that one class taught me a lot about prayer and helped strengthen my testimony.

Early in my Church service, Elder Harold B. Lee taught this lesson when he came to organize a new stake in the district where we were living. Elder Lee asked me, as a newly sustained bishop, if I would join him at a press conference. There an intense young reporter challenged Elder Lee. He said to him, “You call yourself a prophet. When was the last time you had revelation, and what was it about?” Elder Lee paused, looked directly at him, and responded in a sweet way, “It was yesterday afternoon about three o’clock. We were praying about who should be called as the president of the new stake, and it was made known to us who that individual should be.” The reporter’s heart changed. I will never forget the Spirit that came into that room as Elder Lee bore his powerful witness of revelation that can be received by those faithfully seeking to do the Lord’s will.

One of the trials of living in this fallen world came to our family when our nine-year old son Tanner came home sick one day with what turned out to be a very difficult childhood cancer, which he fought for three long years.

Tanner was a great kid. He was full of life, like he had always known his would be short, so he had to squeeze everything into it. But we didn’t know that. All we saw was him, always full speed ahead, impatient, fun, funny—1000 miles per hour. We used to say of him that he would probably grow up to either become the prophet or a bank robber. We didn’t know which.

One of the Sunday mornings right before he passed away, he was experiencing a lot of pain. He had tumors in his bones and in his head, and he was taking a lot of pain medicine and still hurt. That morning, his mom came into his room to see if he had been able to sleep. She was amazed to find him fumbling to get his Sunday clothes on. “Tanner, I don’t think you should you be going to church. Why don’t you stay home and rest today?”

He hung his head for a moment, thinking about it. “I think I should go.”

His mom answered, “Nobody is going to expect you to come to church when you need pain medicine just to sit up in bed… when you feel this bad.“

“Yes, but I think it matters when I go. I see how people look at me when I pass the sacrament. I think it helps them.”

So, he dressed, went to church, and for the last time of his earthly life, he passed the sacrament. I saw he was right: people were looking at him. Everyone seemed to be looking at him. I saw that it mattered to them. They saw a little boy in a body, spent of all energy, making heroic exertions to present them with those symbols of the Atonement, carrying the tray from the priest’s table, then steadying himself with one hand on the end of the pew, his little bald head glistening with perspiration at the effort and his sacrifice quietly pointing to the Atonement, to Gethsemene, to Galgotha, places where exhaustion and pain and love and commitment had also inspired sacrifice. And, I noticed he had been right: it helped people. It helped me. It helps us still. Members of our ward still sometimes refer to the time Tanner passed the sacrament.

Some years ago an assignment took me to one of the islands of the South Seas to dedicate a newly completed chapel. That evening, as I approached the building with some of the local leaders, we were surprised to notice that the building was completely dark.
As we entered the building and saw all the members sitting in the chapel, we inquired about the absence of lighting. The bishop informed us that earlier in the afternoon the building supervisor had inspected the building to make sure all was in readiness for the dedication. But now, as the time approached to begin the services, for some reason there were no lights, even though lights were aglow in nearby homes. All possibilities for correcting the problem were checked without success, and so the local leaders and I decided to proceed with the dedicatory services.
As the program proceeded, illuminated only by a kerosene lantern in front of the chapel, I felt sure that this would be the first dedication performed in darkness in the history of the Church!
I’m sure all those good brothers and sisters in the congregation joined me with a silent prayer in their hearts to ask the Lord to bless us with light so that the chapel could be dedicated.
One by one the speakers spoke—in the dark. The choir sang beautiful anthems—in the dark. As the concluding speaker, I, too, gave my talk in the dark. Then, as I asked the congregation to unite with me for the dedicatory prayer, the lights in the chapel suddenly flickered on. How grateful we were to the Lord for this special blessing! I was overcome with emotion and felt meek and humble that we had been so blessed, but the illumination of the chapel could not compare with the light of love in our hearts for this great blessing in answer to our prayers.
Yes, the Lord blessed us, even as our faith was tested and as we prayed with hope.

Clearly, serving a mission for the Church puts us in a concentrated learning mode for persistent daily selfless service, where your own ministry becomes the Lord’s ministry, a ministry that carries you to many of the "least of these, my brethren." Our daughter, Emily, when serving in Austria, wrote home the following:

Sister Hopkins and I were asked to go sit with our non-member friend, a manic-depressive lady who gets so stricken with depression and anguish over her immoral behavior, when in her panic spells . . . she wants to commit suicide. We sat with her for eight hours. Part of the time she was thrashing, weeping and wailing in her bed, in the gall of bitterness. She felt that she had ruined her life and that of her family and that everyone would be better off if she were dead. I could feel my heart bleeding real blood for her and I was filled with the desire to do anything to help her.
We reviewed all of the usual wonderful doctrines about the atonement, forgiveness, her [own] worth, etc., but none of that seemed to help. Then we asked if we could sing for her. As we sang the beautiful German hymns, one after the other, in two-part harmony, the sweetest, most comforting spirit filled the room. She closed her eyes, and peace shown in her face. We felt, for that last hour we were with her, that this little room that we were in together was lifted up to heaven. This beautiful woman—even with puffy eyes and sweaty hair—who [had] been so scared by the cruelties of this earth, was picked up and cradled in the arms of the Lord (emphasis added).

When a commercial came on the radio that started saying the Lord’s name in vain, my mom turned the station as quickly as she could. It bothered us a lot that they would use the Lord’s name in that way. We wrote a letter to the advertiser telling them we were offended about how they used the Lord’s name. They wrote back and apologized. Within a few days, the commercial was changed.
Gavin Z., age 7, California

Another way to spread happiness with her talents began to develop after she had a conversation with one of her friends in the hospital. She and a fellow patient laughed at their thoughts of “how you know you’ve been in the hospital too long.” These quips soon turned into a coloring book Brittany drew called Life Is Full of Color. Each page has one of Brittany’s drawings and a humorous blurb, like, “You know you’ve been in the hospital too long when you can work your own IV pump” or “… when your room at the hospital is more decorated than your room at home.” The coloring book was published and is now being given to children in the hospital. Brittany hopes it helps them know they’re not alone in their trials.

MonicaWhen Keoni and I got married, we hoped to have children right away, but things didn’t go as planned. It took us three and a half years to have our first child. During those years, we had many tearful nights, but we got through it together by talking openly, leaning on each other, and offering constant support. Eventually, we were blessed with Sai, and then four more healthy and wonderful children. We love them and are so grateful to be their parents.

It’s been five years now since I drank any coffee but sometimes the smell of it reminds me of those years when I drank so much of it that now even I find the amount unbelievable. My day would begin with a cup of coffee as I told myself I needed that energy boost to meet the demands of being a mother and homemaker. After that first cup I needed little or no excuse for more whether it was the visit of my mother or a friend, or a belief that I needed a cup of coffee to keep up my energy or to help me relax. It was cup after cup after cup. And as I had convinced myself that the day had to begin with coffee so I convinced myself that it had to end with coffee. I just “knew” that I wouldn’t be able to sleep without my bedtime cup of coffee, even though logic told me that coffee was a stimulant—after all wasn’t that why I used it throughout the day? It never occurred to me that so much coffee was harmful to my health.
I didn’t face that fact until the day two missionaries knocked at my door and introduced me to the gospel. I willingly accepted their message and their challenge to be baptized. But, they explained, for me to accept baptism I also had to accept the Word of Wisdom, and that meant no more coffee.
Somehow I wasn’t completely surprised by their injunction so I was prepared to meet their challenge. The people who were surprised were my husband and my daughters. They knew that coffee was an integral part of my life and they were convinced that I would never give it up.
But something inside me had changed. In accepting the gospel message I accepted all its precepts. As I did so I felt a tranquility enter into my life and I knew that the Lord would help me live his commandments.
Of course, it was not easy to stop drinking coffee; my body had become so used to relying on it that for a week after I quit drinking it I walked around in a daze, my legs trembled and my arms felt weak. But with the help of the Lord my desire for coffee had gone. There was no way I was going to go near that coffee pot. It was a marvelous sensation and more than once I found myself on my knees thanking the Lord for his help and strength. The missionaries regularly visited me to see how I was doing and to give me encouragement and my watchful family was constantly surprised to hear me say how good I felt.
Today I can look back on five years of happiness. Not only do I have the energy to fulfill my role as wife and mother, but I’ve also been able to serve in a number of Church callings. On the rare occasions when I may feel physically tired, my spirit is always ready for more and that helps rejuvenate me. Is it any wonder that I have a testimony of the Word of Wisdom, and of the gospel that brought it into my life.

Houston Chinweoke Nmeribe and Raymond Idio Egbo have a lot in common. Although they did not meet and begin their friendship until they were serving missions, both converted to the Church in their homeland of Nigeria. Both were baptized in their youth, completed four years of seminary, and served full-time missions in the Nigeria Lagos Mission, where approximately 80 percent of the missionaries are native Nigerians. And while they both faced challenges and difficulties as they worked to serve the Lord full-time, both were blessed because they had prepared in advance and decided to choose the right.
Both Houston and Raymond credit attending seminary, which is held Tuesday through Friday evenings in Nigeria, with helping them make the right choices. “Seminary made me desire to go on a mission in the first place,” recalls Raymond.
“Seminary made it easy for me to understand the gospel principles and doctrines I would teach on my mission,” Houston says. “Seminary teaches principles in a way members can understand them. It convinced me of the truthfulness of the gospel and helped me to be able to teach others.”
Seminary also helped these young men learn to study and receive strength from the scriptures. “My strength is drawn from the Book of Mormon,” states Raymond. “The words of King Benjamin in Mosiah 2:41 gave me the zeal to continue even in the face of great opposition: ‘I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God.’”
Houston’s strength comes from reading and pondering about the Savior. “As a missionary, I saw myself as one who was called not only to serve Christ but to follow His example,” he explains. “Whenever I had difficulties, I remembered that Jesus Christ suffered and overcame many difficulties. I draw my strength and resolve from Him, so that, like Him, I can also overcome.”
These two young men realized even before their missions the importance of obedience—especially obedience to mission rules. Houston explains, “I viewed obeying the rules as keeping God’s commandments. When I started my mission, I had a clear vision of what I wanted to accomplish. I would do everything in my power to succeed. I fasted and prayed often for strength to choose the right. I decided very early in my mission to work hard.”
Raymond continues, “I realized early on that ‘hard work is more important than intellect’ (James E. Faust, “What I Want My Son to Know before He Leaves on His Mission,” Ensign, May 1996, 40). I tried to develop spiritually by intensifying my study of the Book of Mormon. I resolved from the beginning to obey the mission rules and prepare myself by studying and working to the best of my ability.”
All of their preparation was put to use as soon as they arrived in the mission field. Their preparation did not, however, prevent them from suffering opposition. But it did give them strength to keep trying.
Houston reported to the Nigeria Lagos Mission in April 1994. His first proselyting area, Agege, covered an expansive territory. The closest branch was in Ogba, four kilometers away. Because of the distance between the two towns, it was difficult for investigators to attend the number of Church meetings required for baptism. Houston and his companion completed almost four months of persistent hard work without a single baptism. But after redoubling their efforts, they found and prepared a family of five for baptism.
“One Saturday afternoon, as my companion and I were waiting to board a vehicle to witness my first convert baptism,” Houston recalls, “the assistants to the mission president drove up and informed me that I was being transferred. A new companion replaced me immediately, and I proceeded to Benin. I initially felt quite unhappy that I didn’t see the baptism of my first converts, but I later realized that what mattered most was their conversion.”
It was Houston’s transfer to the Benin City stake that introduced him to Raymond. Raymond arrived in Benin a few days later directly from his missionary training in Lagos. Houston joined Raymond and his companion to proselyte on Raymond’s first day. When Raymond expressed his fear about teaching a discussion on his first day, he remembers Houston’s encouragement: “Elder, go ahead and do it. I had the same experience. If I did it, you can do it, too.”
Raymond recalls, “I was filled with strength and confidence. And when I finished the discussion, Houston tapped me on the knee and said, ‘Elder, you came out okay.’ This experience kindled a feeling of respect for him. And as our paths have crossed many times since our missions, that feeling has only increased.”
Four months later, Raymond was transferred to Lagos where he became a senior companion. “After three months in Lagos without a baptism, I felt inadequate as a leader,” he says. “We had to put forth extra effort. It came time to report to the mission president. He advised me to pray for our investigators.
“Seven of our 14 investigators decided to be baptized,” Raymond remembers. “Two weeks before the baptism, I received a note from the assistants to the president informing me to prepare for a transfer.” This time it was Raymond who was unable to be at the baptisms. “Within a month, all 14 were baptized. I felt bad that I missed those baptisms. However, I accepted the Lord’s will—some will plant, others will water, and yet others will harvest, but all are working for the Lord of the vineyard.”
Doing the Lord’s work also includes dealing with challenges. But as Raymond and Houston learned, the Lord does provide a way.
“When I became an assistant to the mission president, it was difficult initially,” recalls Houston. “I had to train missionaries, including some who had more education than I had. I felt inadequate until I prayed and received a testimony that ‘whom the Lord calls, the Lord qualifies’ (Thomas S. Monson quoting Harold B. Lee, “Who Honors God, God Honors,” Ensign, November 1995, 50). This knowledge helped me proceed.”
For Raymond, developing patience was difficult. “It was hard to see people who have been taught correct principles, who know their responsibilities but fail to do them,” he remembers. “I coped with this situation by reminding myself to make sure that the Lord can count on me to choose the right.”
For Houston Nmeribe and Raymond Egbo, the best mission moments were when they saw investigators come unto Christ through baptism and become members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For both, the feeling that comes with these moments still lingers, even a few years after returning from their missions.
Their service in the kingdom, however, is far from over. They continue to be blessed for their choice to serve the Lord. Houston Chinweoke Nmeribe serves as elders quorum president in the Calabar Third Branch, Calabar Nigeria District. Raymond Idio Egbo serves as Calabar Second Branch mission leader and second counselor in the district mission presidency.

Many years ago a fire destroyed a family’s house. A neighbor tried to comfort the family’s seven-year-old boy by saying, “Johnny, it’s too bad your home burned down.” Johnny thought for a moment and said, “Oh, that was not our home; that was just our house. We still have our home; we just don’t have any place to put it right now.” Johnny knew that the fire had not destroyed his family and their kind feelings for one another.

As a boy growing up in Nauvoo, George Q. Cannon learned to cope with those who would do harm to others. In his own words, he tells how he and a group of boys his age did their part to defend the Saints against potential troublemakers:
“It was … a common practice … , when engaged in conversation or in making a bargain, to take out … pocket knives and commence whittling; frequently, … accompanying the whittling by whistling. No person could object, therefore, to the practices of whittling and whistling. Many of the boys of the city had each a large bowie knife made, and when a man came to town who was known to be a villain, and was there for evil purposes, a few of them would get together, and go to where the obnoxious person was, and having previously provided themselves with pine shingles, would commence whittling. The presence of a number of boys, each [harmlessly] whittling … was not a sight to escape the notice of a stranger. … His first [reaction] … would be to … ask what this meant. The boys would make no reply, but with grave faces, keep up their [harmless] whistling. … What could the man do? If he was armed, he could shoot; but the resolute expression of the boys’ faces, and the gleaming knives … would convince him that discretion was the better part of valor. … The most we ever knew them to do was to stand for awhile and curse and threaten. … Then they would walk off … , followed by the troop of boys vigorously whittling and whistling.”
Now, I’m not suggesting that we begin issuing bowie knives to our deacons. But I am suggesting that George Q. Cannon and his youthful associates exhibited great courage and faith by their actions. They saw something that needed to be done, and they did it safely within the context of what was appropriate for the times. I’m impressed by their willingness to take a stand against wicked intentions of others.

Brother Featherstone’s account of the talking wall brought to my mind an incident that I was told about. Not long ago two of our security men were working high up on the temple, inspecting it or something, in the night, when it was dark. Down in front of the temple, two or three inebriated men were hanging on the gate looking up at the temple, and one of them said, “Oh Moroni, speak to me.” And one of our men said, “Yes, what is it you want?”

“My mother is a pioneer,” says Brynnly Anderson, a Laurel from Salt Lake City, Utah. “When I was a baby, my dad worked for the Church and we were asked to move to South America. There my mother had to learn Spanish, a new culture, and a new lifestyle. I have never heard her complain about having to move. She is very giving and unselfish, especially when it comes to her children. She is a great pioneer example to me.”

In 2006, Elder Henderson and I went to live in Malawi, Africa. The company that Elder Henderson worked for had a desire to help thousands of orphan children who were dying of starvation. It was hard work in that poor country, but Elder Henderson and his colleagues built a food factory, gave jobs to many workers, and were able to feed about 80,000 children every day. It was a great experience to help so many children.
We lived in the capital city of Lilongwe. There were only a few members of the Church and no church meetings. We had a small truck, and Elder Henderson and I started to do missionary work at night. We began to hold Sunday meetings in a room where corn was stored. We found a member of the Church, Brother Ntoloa. He now was married to a lady who was not a member, and they had a little boy. One night, we visited their one-room house in a cornfield to teach Sister Ntoloa the gospel. They had one light in the room, and we could all sit together as we taught this dear lady about the Savior and the Book of Mormon. As we were starting, it began to rain. The little house had an iron roof, so the rain was very, very loud. Then… the electricity went off. Quickly, they brought two small candles for light.
“What shall we do to teach Sister Ntoloa?” we thought. It felt so empty and cold, and rain was pounding down. Then Elder Henderson turned to 3 Nephi, the story about the Savior coming to the people in America after the resurrection. We took turns reading by the small light. We had to read loudly to hear each other. When we read about Jesus Christ showing his hands and feet, a very strong feeling came into the room. The Holy Ghost came into the dark and cold and touched our hearts that the story was true. We felt warm and close. Sister Ntoloa could feel the Savior’s love for her.
Sister Ntoloa followed the feelings of the Holy Ghost and was baptized. She made the covenants of baptism that her husband had made, and together, they started a new life. Brother Ntoloa was a schoolteacher. They were poor but began to pay their tithing. One month, the government did not give the teachers their salary. Three weeks went by with no pay, and one night, the family only had a little corn to eat – not enough for the three of them. Brother Ntoloa told his wife to cook the corn. Then they went down on their knees as a family, and the father prayed. He told Heavenly Father that they had done all they could. They walked five miles to church every Sunday. They had stopped drinking tea and were keeping the Word of Wisdom. He had worked hard, and they had kept the covenants they had made when baptized, including paying their tithing. Now, they did not have enough to eat.
As they said “amen,” someone knocked at their door. It was a friend who had his arms full of lovely vegetables. He said that he had some very good luck and had extra and asked if they wanted to share his food.
They were able to have a good meal that night. It was a miracle. The Ntoloas learned that the Lord would keep His promises to them. On Monday, Brother Ntoloa received his pay. His wife started to go to school and also became a schoolteacher. Soon our little church group grew to be a branch, and Brother Ntoloa was called as the branch president or bishop. They had kept their covenants with faith. God had poured out His blessings. They were a happy family in their little house, and now they were leading and showing others how to have the same blessings.

Ammon Arvidson and Brooke Noble, two youth from the Maitland Ward, Newcastle Australia Stake, were chosen to represent Port Stephens, Australia, at the first World Child Summit, held in Kushiro, Japan, last summer. The theme was “The Natural Environment and Our Future.” To be chosen, they each had to present a 10-minute speech on the environment of Port Stephens, the problems facing the habitat, and their role in protecting the natural beauty of the world.
Speaking of the presentations he made at the summit, Ammon, 12, said, “It makes me very aware of the beautiful world our Lord has created for us to enjoy.” Then thinking about all the people, languages, and cultures created by the Lord, Ammon added, “It makes me look forward to serving a mission wherever Heavenly Father sends me.”

An important early example of this tendency unfolded in the early 1900s. The board had designated Brigham Young Academy as a university in 1903. Then, starting in 1907, President George H. Brimhall hired two sets of brothers—Ralph and William Chamberlin and Henry and Joseph Peterson—who had the academic credentials to help “transform the . . . college into a full-fledged university, comparable to the country’s recognized universities.”33 The men taught biology, philosophy, education, and psychology. Three of the four held graduate degrees from the University of Chicago, Harvard, and Cornell; the other had studied at Harvard, Chicago, and the University of California.

The new faculty members all believed they had successfully reconciled the modernist ideas they had encountered in graduate school with their religious faith; indeed, they were convinced that their enlarged intellectual perspectives would enrich the “ideal of education which had [always] been cherished in the Church” by harmonizing all knowledge “within an institution devoted primarily to religious education.”34 Thus they embarked on a well-intentioned “campaign to enliven [BYU] students academically by introducing the latest developments” in the major disciplines.35 As it turned out, however, their views essentially “discounted the historical reality of any scripture.”36

In a 1909 article in BYU’s student newspaper, for instance, Ralph Chamberlin “drew a sharp distinction between history and legend”37 because “history countenances only such reports as are [empirically] verifiable.”38 Thus such early Hebrew stories as the Tower of Babel, the Flood, and Jonah are best understood as legends and poetic myths, he said, because “poetry is a superior medium for conveying religious truth.”39

Initial student reactions to these ideas were positive, partly because the new professors “were dynamic, articulate and very popular.”40 One student later said she had initially been disturbed to learn “that the story of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden may not be literally true,”41 but she, like most other students, had tried to be open to the enlightened modern views. Indeed, when President Brimhall was later threatening to release three of the new professors, a petition signed by more than 80 percent of the BYU student body supported the professors.42

By the end of 1910, reports from disturbed local Church leaders and parents led Horace H. Cummings, superintendent of Church education, to investigate. After finding that most of the students and many of the faculty were accepting the new theories, Cummings reported to the board that the new professors were teaching BYU faculty to apply secular theories to Church teachings “in such a way as to disturb, if not destroy, the faith of the pupils.”43 Noel B. Reynolds has aptly summarized Cummings’s report:

[The] inspiration [for the modernist views] came directly from higher criticism of the Bible as articulated in the writings of Lyman Abbot, who regarded the Bible as a collection of myths and folklore. Christ’s temptation was regarded as allegory; John the Revelator was not literally translated. Sin was redefined as ignorance. . . . Visions and revelations were mentally induced; the literal reality of Joseph Smith’s visions was questioned. The application of the theory of evolution required new characterizations of the fall and Christ’s atonement. . . . Proponents argued that rather than downgrading the scriptures, this enlightened understanding made [them] “more dear and more beautiful . . . , being broader in their applications.” These avant-garde professors also enjoyed the clear support of many [other Latter-day Saint] intellectuals.44

President Brimhall, who was originally sympathetic toward the new faculty, was troubled when he heard some students say they had stopped praying. Then he had a dream that convinced him Cummings was right. In the dream that he reported to Cummings, President Brimhall saw a group of BYU professors casting, as if fishing, some kind of bait into the sky, where a flock of snow-white birds was happily circling. When the birds took the bait, they fell to the earth and turned out to be BYU students, who said to President Brimhall:

“Alas, we can never fly again!” . . .

Their Greek philosophy had tied them to the earth. They could believe only what they could demonstrate in the laboratory. Their prayers could go no higher than the ceiling. They could see no heaven—no hereafter.45

A special committee that included several members of the Twelve verified the findings in the Cummings report. The board accepted these conclusions, resolving that teachers appointed “in Church schools must be in accord with Church doctrine. [Three of the] professors were given the choice of conforming or resigning.”46 All three left BYU, along with a few other professors.47

Two months after I was baptized, I told the sister missionaries that I had not yet paid any tithing. I was out of work and didn’t have enough money to last the month. The sisters read the Lord’s promise to open the windows of heaven, and I felt the Holy Ghost testify to me, “Trust in the Lord.”
I felt so happy the next day when I paid tithing on the small amount I had. During the next week, I found a job. I am so happy to know that if we trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, He will do miracles for us.
Ivanka Ivanova, Sofia Tsentralen Branch, Sofia Bulgaria District