Gospel Story Finder

When Brother Maeser was going to Zion, he stopped in London, where he was called on a mission and told he wouldn’t be going on to Zion for a long period of time. That was a great disappointment to him. And there was a great test connected with it. He had been the headmaster of a school, a professor of great dignity. When he walked into a class, all of the students stood up out of respect to this distinguished scholar.
He felt because of his social position there were some things he couldn’t do. He wouldn’t carry packages in the street, for instance; that was below his station in life. He wouldn’t carry a suitcase; that was below his station in life. Wasn’t he Herr Dr. Professor, the headmaster, a man of great dignity? And his test came from two humble missionaries. They were going to leave London and go up north to do their missionary work.
The young elder said, “Brother Maeser, you take your suitcase and meet us at the station, and we will meet you there and go on the train.” Brother Maeser paced his room all day to think that they had told him to carry a suitcase through the streets. He worried about it, he talked to his wife about it, and she counseled him, and finally he said to himself and his wife, “The elders have told me to do it, and they are presiding over me, and I will do it.” And he took his suitcase and walked to the station.
Now that is just a little thing, but it was almost like Gethsemane for Dr. Maeser, to submit himself to the leadership of these young elders.

I’m Dallin. I love singing, acting, playing instruments, and doing basically anything outdoors. My teacher asked me to join her choir. I told her I would but I would not perform on Sunday. She said she had other Mormons in her choir, so she never had performances on Sunday. I was so happy that there were others before me who stood up for their standards. I know Heavenly Father will provide a way for you to be happy and keep your standards.
Dallin P., Arizona, USA

Whitney is a very bright 14-year-old girl who joined the Church about a year ago. It was a magical moment as I looked at the girls’ soccer team who were there for her baptism. They had been there for each other many times. That’s the way it is with teams, and this team was one of the best, in soccer—and in life. Each girl was a Beehive, setting an example, standing as a witness of goodness, even on the playing field. Whitney liked being part of that. It felt good.
After her baptism, Whitney stood before us with her friend Elizabeth. Their faces were glowing, their eyes were bright, and their smiles sincere as they repeated these words they had learned by heart: “We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us, and we love Him. We will ‘stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places.’” Whitney already had the whole Young Women theme memorized. In fact, it was because Whitney’s friends had stood as witnesses that we were all there on that memorable day to welcome a beautiful daughter of God into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

After a recent mission tour in Indonesia when I visited the missionaries and the Saints on the island of Java, I had to catch an early morning flight to Singapore, and I checked out of the hotel at 6:00 A.M. I climbed into a taxi that was parked near the hotel entrance and told the driver to go to the international airport, but alas, his car would not start. Apparently the battery was dead.
Well, what do you do in such a case? I calculated that it would probably cost me much time to unload my luggage and find another taxi, and it also occurred to me that the taxi driver was trying hard to earn enough money to provide for his family and would be very disappointed if he could not earn the large fare he would get for the half-hour trip to the airport.
I decided to do my morning exercises by pushing the taxi, leaving the Indonesian cab driver behind the steering wheel to start the car. However, he greatly overestimated the early morning physical power of a Dutchman and released the clutch of the car before I had been able to give the car adequate speed. As a result, it came to a sudden halt. But I tried again and this time it started. With a roaring motor the taxi moved forward. I flung open the door, jumped in, and we were on our way.
An hour and a half later when I boarded my flight, the air hostess who greeted me at the door of the plane said: “I am surprised to see you here! You are the gentleman who pushed the taxi in front of the Borobudur Hotel this morning.”
She then told me that all the members of the plane crew had witnessed the scene from the airport limousine parked at a side door of the hotel. She said that on the way to the airport they had talked a lot about the incident and had wondered: “What kind of a man is this? If he can afford to stay in the Borobudur Hotel, why would he work to push a taxicab at 6:00 A.M.?
I thought, “This is my chance to do missionary work!” I took a name card out of my wallet, handed it over to her, and said, “We in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe in good human relations.”
The air hostess told me she was not actually a stewardess but was flight services instructor for Cathay Pacific Airways and had boarded this flight to evaluate the performance of some students she had taught in the cabin crew training school in Hong Kong. That enabled me to make another statement about the Church: “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the largest educational institution in the world today. At least 2 million people teach one another on a weekly basis with divinely inspired lesson materials.” I further explained to her that a great deal of my time is spent teaching missionaries and members of the Church in the nine missions of Southeast Asia.
She remarked: “Then you are maybe the man we are looking for—an experienced air traveler with the ability to teach our personnel how to be friendly with customers.” I told her that I would gladly do it free of charge whenever they planned another initial or refresher course in Hong Kong and when these dates would not interfere with my other Church assignments. I thought then and there: “What a golden opportunity to let these people know what makes Mormons behave as they do!”
After my return to Hong Kong, I was approached by the training manager of the airline, who had received a report from the flight services instructor. I made an appointment and spent a couple of hours with him in his office. He was greatly impressed by the work and the achievements of the Church.
I am sure I will have the opportunity to reach out to many souls in the future simply because of what the world observed when they saw the Church in action one early morning in Jakarta, Indonesia.

“If I can make life a little easier for someone, I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Amy Gardner says, with a big smile. And that’s exactly what she did for some homeless children in Salt Lake City, Utah.
Amy, who was 16 at the time, went with her Mutual group, from the Holladay Tenth Ward of the Salt Lake Holladay Stake, to feed homeless families at the local family shelter. “I heard there was a baby in by the main desk,” Amy says. “I love babies so I went to see. When baby Heather was placed in my arms, tears came to my eyes. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.” Amy spent the rest of the evening feeding and cuddling Heather.
Amy later learned about Heather’s background: her mother was in the Salt Lake County jail, and her father, who was from out of state, was waiting for his wife to make parole. Most of the time Heather was dressed only in a diaper and was hungry, not only for food but for love, too.
“When I got home and told my mom (Lindy Gardner) about Heather, I broke down and cried,” Amy says. “We went that night to the store and purchased a few items and put together a diaper bag for the baby.”
Amy continues, “The next day I went back to the shelter hoping I would find Heather. When I did, she was crying. We couldn’t comfort her. Then one of the ladies that works at the shelter asked Heather’s father if she could be hungry. His response was, ‘She’s had two bottles of water today.’”
The workers at the shelter gave Heather’s father a box of formula and other items to help him take care of his baby daughter. But Amy left heartbroken. “I was a wreck,” Amy says. “I cried all the way home.” Through all the tears and anguish, however, Amy was working on a plan to put together diaper bags for other homeless babies. So, “in a heartbeat,” she launched her plan.
That Sunday, Amy talked in her ward Relief Society about her experience and asked for help. “The response was tremendous!” Amy exclaims. “I even got calls from other stakes.” Amy also contacted a local hospital that donated most of the diaper bags. She sent out fliers in her neighborhood. And she talked to her child development teacher at Skyline High School, who offered extra credit to any student who brought in items.
Donations began to flood the Gardner home. Amy turned her missionary brother’s temporarily empty bedroom into a warehouse. “I had a shelf or a section of the room for each item, like in a department store,” Amy says. There were new bottles, pacifiers, formula, bibs, shoes, clothing, baby food, lotion, shampoo, toys, and wipes. She also washed all used clothing and blankets and sanitized the toys that came in.
By the end of the week she had filled 16 diaper bags so full she had to sit on them to get them closed. Amy says, “Besides the diaper bags we had three large plastic bags of clothes, one bag of blankets, and two boxes of toys. I even had cash left over to purchase board games and toys for the older children.”
Susan Anderson, the manager of the Family Shelter in Salt Lake City, says, “I’ll always remember Amy. I saw in her an example of so many young people in the Church who have been taught to love one another. We’re not sure what kind of heart we have until it is tested. When Amy’s heart was tested, she responded with everything she has been taught by her family and the Church.”
Amy’s attitude about helping others is capsulized in this comment: “When you think about it, we all have a lot of time. It’s what we do with our time that counts. True, I did spend every free minute for two weeks on the diaper bag project, but if you think of all the time I have, this was only a tiny pinch of it. And it was more than worth it when you see that it made a difference in a little child’s life.”

Living the Young Women Values has helped Joanne Larsen of the Calgary Alberta 12th Ward introduce the Church to a friend. In Young Women meeting they talked about giving a copy of the Book of Mormon to a friend. This class goal got Joanne interested, and she gave a copy to her friend. She also invited her friend to girls’ camp and to ward activities. Now the friend is taking the discussions from missionaries in Joanne’s home.

In my father’s personal history, he tells about Grandmother’s experiences growing up in Brigham City, Utah, in the late 1800s. Their family was very poor, having emigrated from Denmark with little more than the clothes on their backs. She wanted so much to have a pair of shoes she could wear on special occasions. To accomplish this worthy desire took a full summer’s work of picking berries and tending children, since money was very scarce and labor was cheap. But the joy Grandmother felt as she obtained those shoes is indescribable, for not only was she able to wear them, but her mother did also. In fact, they had it arranged so Grandmother would wear the shoes to Sunday School in the morning, and then her mother would wear them to sacrament meeting in the evening.

In his ward Dale met a young woman named Ruth. She was the daughter of a member of the stake presidency, Merlin R. Lybbert, who later served in the Seventy. Dale’s recollection is that he mustered the courage to ask Ruth out on a date, but she said no. When he tried again a few months later, she said yes. Ruth’s version is a little different. She remembers that when he spoke in sacrament meeting about his mission, she was impressed. They got better acquainted, and she was thrilled when he asked her to go on a date, but she was hosting a party that required her to decline. She was pleased to accept when he asked again.

I remember a news article from Sicily, Italy, which read, “Five young brothers blind since birth got their first dim glimpse of the world Tuesday. They cried with delight.” The Rotolo brothers were operated on to remove cataracts they had been born with. As the surgeon, Luigi Picardo, in a darkened room removed their bandages, he must have hoped and prayed that his work was successful.
The first to speak was four-year-old Calogero, the youngest of the brothers. “The necktie,” he cried, tugging at the surgeon’s tie. “I can see, I can see.” The removal of the bandages from the others’ eyes was accompanied by shouts of joy. The boys’ father could hardly believe it when he held thirteen-year-old Carmelo’s face in his hands and asked tenderly, “Can you see, my son? Can you really see?”
The boys’ mother, the doctors, and everyone there wept for joy. Dr. Picardo replaced the bandages and walked slowly out of the room. Then he sat down on a bench and wept. “Never,” he said, “have I felt such extraordinary serenity, such happiness.” Thus a skilled surgeon actually brought the gift of sight to five little boys who had been blind.

I recall that not too long ago I became acquainted with a precious young woman named Sharon living in Brisbane, Australia. She had cystic fibrosis and had in the last few years spent nearly as much time in the hospital as she had in her home. She was downcast and desperate, feeling that God had forgotten her and that there was no chance for her. But a priesthood blessing told her to trust in the Lord with all of her heart and lean not to her own understanding and promised that He would guide and direct her. And then came the words that somewhat frightened him who was pronouncing the blessing: “Sharon, there will come in your lifetime medical advances which will correct the problem and alleviate the challenges that you are facing.”
Within thirty days, in Melbourne, Australia, there came a medical announcement of a new drug, experimental in nature, that showed promise in combating cystic fibrosis. Sharon applied for treatment, and it has been successful. Today, she spends very little time in the hospital; the rest of her time is spent preparing for a career.

“Recently I have had a lot of personal accomplishments that have helped me feel good about my abilities,” wrote 18-year-old Brian Whitmer. “One night, though, I was reading Alma 26:12 where Ammon gives God credit for everything, and I realized I hadn’t been doing so. Then President Hinckley’s words reinforced my decision to give God credit—to thank Him for His help and blessings in my personal life. Since then I’ve noticed a change in my life as I’ve become more spiritual and more grateful.”

Jay stood proudly at the front of the classroom, holding a big box full of golden-brown raisin bran muffins. “I brought a treat for everyone,” he announced. “They’re magic muffins.”
“How can muffins be magic?” Jenny asked.
“They can’t be,” Glenn scoffed. “He’s only saying that because he knows we’d rather have chocolate cupcakes.”
“No!” Jay protested. “My grandad made them. He makes magic muffins.”
“I don’t believe it,” Glenn said.
“You’ll see.” Jay passed out the muffins.
“What’s the magic?” Stacy asked. “I won’t shrink, will I?”
Glenn laughed. He took a big bite of muffin. “The magic is,” he said, crumbs dribbling down his chin, “when you eat one, it disappears.”
Others laughed, too, but Jay shook his head. “The magic is that after you eat one of Grandad’s muffins, something good happens.”
Jay seemed so certain of this that the muffins were gobbled up. Everyone looked around as if expecting something good to walk in.
“Nothing happened,” Glenn said, “but it tasted OK. May I have another one?”
“Will the muffins make something happen, Mrs. Martin?” Jenny asked.
“We’ll list all of today’s good things,” Mrs. Martin said. “Maybe then we’ll be able to decide if the muffins are magic. Now it’s time for addition problems.”
A few minutes later Robert raised his hand. “Mrs. Martin, my last piece of paper ripped when I was erasing, and Stacy gave me another piece before I even asked. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Mrs. Martin agreed, printing on the blackboard: Stacy gave Robert a piece of paper.
“I broke my pencil, and Ted is letting me use one of his,” Mark said. “That’s just as good a thing.”
“That’s a very good thing, too,” Mrs. Martin said, printing: Ted lent Mark a pencil. “It would be good,” she said, “if everyone finished this assignment quickly so that we can go outside.”
“That would be a great thing!” Glenn shouted.
“Including you, Glenn,” Mrs. Martin added.
The class, even Glenn, worked quietly, and soon they were outside, where good things continued to happen: Carrie let Robert have the swing, although she had it first. Ted asked Mike to play catch, even though Mike was the worst catcher in the second grade. Mark found some smooth stones for the girls who were playing hopscotch. Those same girls gave their chalk to Glenn so that he could draw monsters all around the hopscotch game.
There was already plenty of proof that Grandad’s muffins were “magic.” Jay wanted his name on the list, too, however, and now they were marching back into the classroom. The school day was almost over. The only subject left was science. Nothing goodwill happen in science, he thought.
“Yesterday,” Mrs. Martin said, “we talked about animals sleeping through the winter. Does anyone remember the word for this?”
Jay’s eyes were on the clock. “Hibernation,” he called out, wanting to hurry along science and go on to something better.
“Name some animals that hibernate,” Mrs. Martin said. Again Jay answered quickly and surely.
“Why do they hibernate?” Mrs. Martin asked him.
“It helps them get through the winter, when there isn’t much food and when they would be too cold.”
“Jay,” Mrs. Martin said, “you don’t usually answer many science questions. Today you’re our star pupil—congratulations!” She handed him a gold star.
“Something good happened!” Jay declared. “Can we add it to the list?”
Mrs. Martin printed: Jay is the science star. She said, “Let’s look at this list. What do you think? Are the muffins magic?”
“Jay knew the answers,” Glenn protested. “It wasn’t the muffins.”
“But Jay never talks in science,” Jenny said. “It was special that he did.”
“Everybody did all those other things on purpose,” Glenn argued.
“Maybe the ‘magic’ is that if you look for good things, you find them,” Stacy said.
“You also try to do good things,” Jay added. “That’s probably what Grandad meant by making magic.”
“I still don’t think that they were magic,” Glenn said as the bell rang, “but I know my name is on a good list for a change. Maybe we should have ‘magic’ muffins every day.”

Tomorrow was Christmas, and Kaiya was worried. He wasn’t worried about getting a present or what the present would be. He was worried about his friend Minato.
Kaiya and Minato played for the same soccer club. And they went to the same school. But then Minato did not come to school for three days. He missed soccer practice too. The teacher said Minato’s father was sick. To make sure others would not get sick, Minato’s whole family would have to stay at home for two weeks.
Kaiya was worried that Minato might get sick too. He asked Mama if they could check on him. They called Minato’s mother.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We are fine. But we haven’t been able to get our kurisumasu k?ki (Christmas cake).”
Christmas cake was Kaiya’s favorite. It had fancy white frosting and colorful decorations on top. It was a special treat in Japan. He thought Minato must feel sad to miss out.
After the phone call, Kaiya said, “Mama, let’s take them our Christmas cake. And can we take them pizza too?” He knew that saba (fish) pizza was Minato’s favorite.
Mama agreed. First they ordered the pizza. Then Mama put the Christmas cake in a box. Next they gathered some snacks and juice.
“This will help them get through the next few days,” Mama said.
Papa and Kaiya went to pick up the pizza. Then they went to Minato’s house to deliver everything. They couldn’t go inside, so they set it all at the door, rang the bell, and left.
When Kaiya got home, Mama showed him a text message from Minato’s mother. “I can’t believe you brought us a cake!” it read. “The kids are really happy. Thank you very much.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was Brother and Sister Takahashi. They were members of the Church who lived nearby.
“We brought you some higashi (rice cookies) for Christmas,” Sister Takahashi said. She held out a plate of cookies with beautiful designs.
After dinner, Kaiya and his parents ate the cookies. “Are you sad we don’t have Christmas cake?” Mom asked.
Kaiya thought about how he had helped Minato and his family. “Not really,” he said. “After all, Christmas is about giving!”

“I hate to change horses in the middle of the stream.”
“No. Don’t think of it like that.”
“How else can I think of it?”
“Well, okay, you’re at this corral, see, and there’s all these horses milling around. At first you picked out this rather ordinary quarter horse named Kyle. But then you spot this magnificent Arabian named Elliott. So you turn to the man in charge of the horses and you ask, ‘Would it be all right if I changed my mind and took that Arabian instead of the one I originally picked?’ And the cowboy says, ‘Hey, Lady, it’s no skin off my nose.’ So you pick the Arabian. What I’m trying to say is, don’t think of it as changing horses in the middle of the stream. In the middle of the stream would be if you were officially engaged, which you’re not. But this is still in the corral. I think you should keep that in mind.”
She smiled. “You had to be the Arabian, didn’t you?”

There was a time in my life when I was less active in the Church. Outings and beach parties were my Sabbath priorities. At that time, the only link I had with the Church and the gospel of Jesus Christ was the Tambuli (English), which my mother would bring home every month. As I looked through the pages of the magazine, I found it had rich, spiritual messages, testimonies, and stories. I loved to read the uplifting messages of the First Presidency and the testimonies of our brothers and sisters all over the world. As I read through each issue, it made me feel closer to the Church and to our Heavenly Father.
The Tambuli is one instrument that brought me back to the Church. I’ll never tire of reading this magazine. Now I am actively engaged in the Church and all its activities, and I still look forward to our monthly copy of the Tambuli.
Sonia P. AntiqueñaIloilo City Ward, Iloilo Philippines Stake

There is one last scene I would call up for you from my journal. I read it as I wrote it in Nha Trang, Vietnam, in May 1967:
“There was a memorable meeting this morning, which began with a senior military chaplain of another church addressing us warmly as ‘My brothers in Christ.’ This touched me deeply.
“After [the meeting], I walked quietly down the passageway alongside the large room where we had met. As I passed the back door, I looked in and saw three men who had their hands on the head of another who sat on a chair. All four were dressed in battle gear; two had returned from air strikes just in time for the meeting, and one was shortly to go. The three members of the district presidency were giving a blessing to an officer senior to them all, setting him apart as a district missionary.”
This sweet scene affected me more deeply than any priesthood sermon I have heard. Priesthood to them meant the right and the power to serve, to act in the name of the Lord as his agents and in his interests with their fellowmen. This scene I hope I will never forget.

In 1849, Brigham Young had a dream in which he saw the Prophet Joseph Smith driving a large herd of sheep and goats. Some of these animals were large and beautiful; others were small and dirty. Brigham Young recalled looking into the Prophet Joseph Smith’s eyes and saying, “Joseph, you have got the darndest flock … I ever saw in my life; what are you going to do with them?” The Prophet, who seemed unconcerned with this unruly flock, simply replied, “[Brigham,] they are all good in their places.”
When President Young awoke, he understood that while the Church would gather a variety of “sheep and goats,” it was his responsibility to bring all in and allow each of them to realize their full potential as they took their places in the Church. (Adapted from Ronald W. Walker, “Brigham Young: Student of the Prophet,” Ensign, Feb. 1998, 56–57.)

As a child I believed what my parents and Primary teachers taught me about the gospel. I was excited to be baptized and go to church. But as I grew older, things began to change.
My dad was in the Air Force, and so we moved every three years. Usually, there were only a few members of the Church; often I was the only one. When we moved to Pennsylvania, there was only one other member of the Church my age at my new school. It seemed like everyone used bad language, smoked, and drank. I was different, and I didn’t know how I could get them to accept me as a Mormon.
A group of girls eventually did accept me. Although they drank, smoked, and did drugs, they didn’t pressure me to join in, so I figured it was OK. But just by being with them, I started developing bad habits. I went behind my parents’ backs to do things I knew I shouldn’t, like watching inappropriate movies, dating earlier than I was allowed, and using bad language.
My mom, realizing what was happening, tried to get me to stop hanging out with these people. But instead of seeing her love and concern, I resented her for it. I became disrespectful and defied her and the Church at every turn, putting down gospel teachings and being rude to the girls in my branch. I told myself I didn’t care that I was unhappy. But I did care.
I thought I couldn’t change, and I began to lose hope. Then one Sunday, a new Young Women leader gave her first lesson. As a complete stranger was teaching me things so many had taught before, something made me listen. She spoke about the importance of temple marriage and eternal families, and her lesson gave me a reason to change. That Sunday I realized why the Church should be important in my life.
I had burned a lot of bridges, and although I had been a member of the Church my whole life, there was still much I didn’t know. But that Sunday my conversion began. While the road ahead of me was hard and sometimes discouraging, with the love and guidance of those around me, I made progress. I learned that I am a child of God and that He loves me and wants me to return to Him.
The temple meant a lot to me during this process and showed me the path I needed to follow. When a sister in my branch asked me if I could do a family baptism for her, I could tell how much it meant to her. I knew that I could not take this temple trip for granted, and I wanted to be worthy.
Although it was difficult, I severed ties with friends who brought me down. I needed friends who would uphold my standards. I got rid of music that contained foul language and stopped using that language myself. I had scripture study and personal prayer daily. Until it became a part of my life, I never knew how much the gospel could help me. Now I find my days less hectic, and I am able to live in a more Christlike manner.
As I sat in the temple, waiting to do the work for that sister’s ancestor, I knew why I was there and how important it all was. I now look forward to temple trips, and I am not ashamed to tell my friends about them.
I regret so many past mistakes, but now I know that I am on the right track. I’m not perfect, and I know I still have a lot to learn. But the gospel has brought happiness into my life once again, and even though it was delayed for a while, I am truly converted.

All afternoon the children had filled the house with happy sounds of play and laughter. But toward evening, when Joseph Smith came with news that some wicked men had gathered into a mob and were looking for him to do him harm, a feeling of worry and fear settled over everyone.
A few minutes later some friends of “Brother Joseph” also came to the house and offered to help him escape or to stay all night and act as guards against the mob.
Instead of the lighthearted play of the afternoon, the children’s thoughts were now heavy with concern. They loved Brother Joseph. He always had a smile and a pleasant word for them, and never seemed in too much of a hurry to stop and talk with them as he walked about the streets of Kirtland, Ohio.
As the adults discussed how the Prophet could be protected, the children went with their playmates to Mother’s bedroom to talk about how they might be able to help their beloved friend.
The oldest boy was just ten and the youngest child only four years old. In solemn whispers they made their suggestions, but no one had any solution until a seven-year-old girl quietly said, “I know what we can do. We can pray and ask our Father in heaven to keep Brother Joseph safe from harm.”
At that very moment Mother passed by the partly opened door and overheard the suggestion. She hurried to the room where the men were talking and whispered something to the Prophet Joseph. He excused himself and went with her, and they arrived at the bedroom door just in time to see the children kneeling together and to hear their simple prayer for his safety.
Tears filled his eyes and then rolled down his cheeks. And as the children arose from their knees by the bedside, he heard one of them say, “I know Brother Joseph will be safe now. The wicked men can’t hurt him at all.” And he saw the other children nod in agreement.
He wiped his eyes and returned to the room where the men were still discussing his safety. Joseph Smith thanked them but assured them they need have no fear for his safety. He urged them to go to their own homes and rest, saying he no longer needed to worry about escape or about being guarded throughout the night, for he knew that the prayers of the children had been heard.
Everyone rested in peace that night and the next morning the thankful children had breakfast with their beloved Prophet Joseph Smith.

It’s about 9:45 Sunday morning in Solo, 585 kilometers southeast of Indonesia’s capital city of Djakarta. Brother Suwarno leaves his home and gets on his bicycle. Three of his seven children get on the bicycle with him. Three other children balance on another bicycle pedaled by big brother Andi. They are going to Sunday School. After he has taught the Gospel Doctrine class, Brother Suwarno will attend priesthood meeting for ten minutes or so and then return home in time to bicycle his wife to sacrament meeting.