Gospel Story Finder

But Paul was born with something Phillip didn’t share—a disease called cerebral palsy. Although Phillip soon grew to be healthy, Paul had problems controlling his leg muscles. His brain would send too many signals to his legs, so the legs didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t sit up or walk. He had to have lots of physical therapy.
Then when Paul was five years old, a therapist recommended a new kind of surgery. Fewer than 100 people in the country had ever had such an operation, but doctors said chances were good it would help.
The operation was long. Surgeons cut nerves in Paul’s back and in one leg to reduce the nerve signals to his legs. After the surgery, the recovery was slow and painful, with six more months of therapy. “It was hard for Phillip to watch Paul struggle,” their father says. “They asked to be together, so sometimes we would let Phillip spend the night where Paul was recovering. He just wanted to be with his brother.”
Today the brothers are still together—and still sharing. Paul drags his foot a little, but he walks! That allows him to pass the football back and forth with Phillip. He can also hold the ball while Phillip kicks. They work on Cub Scout pins and badges, and go to their Primary class on Sundays. They earned their Faith in God Awards together. And they practice their trumpets while their older sister Avery, 12, plays clarinet and their younger sister Kaylene, 10, holds the music. All of the children love soccer, and Paul was asked to be the manager for Phillip’s team at school. All of the brothers and sisters read and study together and talk about their school assignments. And all of them play with Avery’s pet hedgehog, Pooka, which she shares with the entire family.

I think of a friend whom I knew when I was a missionary in London many years ago. He came to our door through the rain one night. I answered his knock and invited him in.
He said, as I remember, “I have to talk to someone. I’m all alone.”
I asked what the problem was.
He said, “When I joined the Church, my father told me to get out of his house and never come back. A few months later my athletic club dropped me from membership. Last month my boss fired me because I am a member of this Church. And last night the girl I love said she would never marry me because I’m a Mormon.”
I said, “If this has cost you so much, why don’t you leave the Church and go back to your father’s home, to your club, to the job that meant so much to you, and marry the girl you think you love?”
He said nothing for what seemed a long time. Then, putting his head in his hands, he sobbed as if his heart would break. Finally he looked up through his tears and said, “I couldn’t do that. I know this is true, and if it were to cost me my life, I could not give it up.”
He picked up his wet hat and walked to the door and went out into the rain. As I watched him, I thought of the power of conscience, the loneliness of faith, and the strength and power of personal testimony.

A cloud of Mexican dust consumed the minivan, and Jeff drove blind for a moment.
A moment was enough.
A sharp grinding sound from under the vehicle made the barren landscape suddenly seem menacing, and as soon as the dust had cleared among the dry, crusty cactus, Jeff, Brandon, and I climbed out to inspect the damage.
We had driven to Baja Mexico in Jeff’s mother’s car to spend the last week before school camping, surfing, and remembering Spanish from our missions, but our excitement quickly changed into dry-mouthed worry.
Jeff looked below the car and found that a large rock had punctured the oil pan. A pool of thick, black motor oil was spreading on the dirt. We tried to stop the leak with a towel, but the slimy oil spread into it. The flow couldn’t be stopped. This wasn’t good.
As we tried to figure out how far it was to town, a truck we had seen earlier at the beach pulled up in a cloud of dust. A tan man with shaggy hair leaned out the window and asked what was wrong.
“We put a hole in our oil pan,” Jeff said. “We tried to plug it, but it didn’t work.”
“Hold on,” said the man. “I have some stuff that could help.”
He and his wife climbed down from the truck, and after fishing around in a toolbox, he produced a tube of self-hardening epoxy made specifically for sealing oil pans.
Wow, are we lucky, I thought.
While her husband was putting the epoxy on our car, his wife explained that they had just had battery trouble with their truck and had needed a jump start from someone else.
“So we get to help you now,” she said. “Now it’s your turn to help someone.”
Her comment made me think, and I promised myself that I would help someone in need the first chance I got.
The couple drove off, and we waited an hour for the epoxy to harden. As we waited, we all expressed our gratitude for the couple and marveled at the perfect timing we had had in driving down the deserted road at about the same time they had. And they had happened to have something that could fix our problem.
We decided to say a prayer of thanks, and as we prayed, we knew our Father in Heaven was looking out for us personally, even in that remote desert in Mexico.

When the 23-year-old Heber J. Grant was installed as president of the Tooele Stake, he told the Saints that he believed the gospel was true. President Joseph F. Smith, a counselor in the First Presidency, inquired, “Heber, you said you believe the gospel with all your heart, … but you did not bear your testimony that you know it is true. Don’t you know absolutely that this gospel is true?”
Heber answered, “I do not.” Joseph F. Smith then turned to John Taylor, the President of the Church, and said, “I am in favor of undoing this afternoon what we did this morning. I do not think any man should preside over a stake who has not a perfect and abiding knowledge of the divinity of this work.”
President Taylor replied, “Joseph, Joseph, Joseph, [Heber] knows it just as well as you do. The only thing that he does not know is that he does know it.”
Within a few weeks that testimony was realized, and young Heber J. Grant shed tears of gratitude for the perfect, abiding, and absolute testimony that came into his life.

Illustrations by Kevin Keele
It was a windy day. Nine-year-old Batbayar was walking home from the bus stop after school. He hugged his coat tighter in the wind. Luckily, it wasn’t far to his grandparents’ house, where he lived in Mongolia.
“Hi!” Batbayar said as he came inside.
“Welcome home,” Grandma said. “I made some khuushuur for a snack.”
“Thank you!” Batbayar reached for one of the warm, spicy Mongolian meat pies.
“Wait! Don’t eat any until the missionaries get here,” Grandpa said. “They’ll be coming any minute.”
Batbayar loved it when the missionaries from Grandma and Grandpa’s church came to visit. He always learned a lot from them. But there was just one problem.
“Will they ask me to read from the Book of Mormon again?” Batbayar asked. “Reading is hard for me.”
“That’s why they’re bringing another book today,” Grandma said.
“What book?” Batbayar said.
“You’ll see,” Grandpa said.
Soon the missionaries arrived. They ate Grandma’s delicious meat pies together. Then Batbayar said, “Grandma says you brought me a book.”
“I think you’ll like this book,” Sister Heitz said. “It has lots of pictures.”
Batbayar looked at the cover. Book of Mormon Stories, it said. A picture on the cover showed people building a boat.
“I remember that story,” Batbayar said. “The man didn’t know how to build a boat. So he prayed. And God helped him.”
“That’s right,” Sister Enkhtuya said. “Will you try reading this book? Then you can pray and ask God if what it teaches is true.”
“I will,” Batbayar promised.
That night he read from the book with pictures. He read the story about the boat. Then he prayed. He fell asleep thinking about the man who built the boat and how God helped him.
From then on, each night Batbayar read a story. Then he prayed. And each night, he fell asleep thinking about what he read.
When the sister missionaries came again, they taught Batbayar more about Jesus Christ. Batbayar learned about prophets. He learned about God’s commandments. He kept going to church with Grandma and Grandpa. And he kept reading and praying.
One day Batbayar had something important to tell his grandparents. “When I read the stories in the book with pictures, my heart feels good,” he said. “When I pray, I feel they are true. I think I should be baptized.”
Today, Batbayar is a member of the Church. He has gotten better and better at reading. And he still reads the Book of Mormon every night!

Emma met Joseph when he came to her town for work in 1825. The two developed a close friendship, and she readily believed his accounts of visions and revelations. Following Moroni’s instructions, Joseph returned to New York each year to the Hill Cumorah, hoping to obtain the golden plates containing another testament of Jesus Christ. According to one account, on September 22, 1826, Moroni told Joseph he had one more chance to bring the right person with him the following year. Joseph prayed faithfully and received revelation that the right person was Emma Hale.3 They were married on January 18, 1827. God had chosen Emma to aid Joseph in bringing forth the Book of Mormon.

After midnight on September 22, 1827, Emma and Joseph left the Smith home in Manchester, New York, USA, to drive to the hill. Emma waited in the carriage while Joseph received the plates from Moroni.4 One account states that she knelt to pray while Joseph obtained the plates.5 Joseph’s mother, Lucy, also prayed—all night—waiting for the two of them to return. Joseph and Emma returned in time for breakfast, having successfully obtained the plates.6

I remember well the adjustments we had to make when we went to live in Utah. My first call in our ward was to serve as a Relief Society teacher. I watched the other teachers very closely and was deeply impressed with their striving for perfection in their teaching. Even their hairdos and immaculate dress showed their striving for perfection. I admired how fluent and articulate they were in the English language. How could I, with my poor English, compete with them and be their teacher? I was eager to learn and was so glad to hear that there was a stake preparation class for Relief Society teachers.

When I attended the training meeting for the first time, I was full of high hopes. I was not prepared for the question I was asked about what kind of centerpiece I would use when I gave my lesson. How incompetent I felt! I had no idea what a centerpiece was or what its purpose in the presentation of a lesson could be. Negative feelings about myself began to undermine my confidence. …

I continued to feel inferior as I watched the sisters in my ward and saw them planting gardens and canning the produce. They exercised daily by jogging. They sewed and bargain-shopped. … They took dinners to new mothers and the sick in their neighborhoods. They took care of an aged parent, sometimes two. … They were faithful in doing temple work, and they worried about catching up on their journals.

Intimidated by examples of perfection all around me, I increased my efforts to be like my sisters, and I felt disappointed in myself and even guilty when I didn’t run every morning, bake all my own bread, sew my own clothes, or go to the university. I felt that I needed to be like the women among whom I was living, and I felt that I was a failure because I was not able to adapt myself easily to their lifestyles.

I could have benefited at this time from the story of a six-year-old who, when asked by a relative, “What do you want to be?” replied, “I think I’ll just be myself. I have tried to be like someone else. I have failed each time!” Like this child, after repeated failure to be someone else, I finally learned that I should be myself. That is often not easy, however, because our desires to fit in, to compete and impress, or even simply to be approved of lead us to imitate others and devalue our own backgrounds, our own talents, and our own burdens and challenges. … I had to learn to overcome my anxious feeling that if I didn’t conform, I simply did not measure up.

… When I tried to copy my wonderful sisters as I taught my class with a special centerpiece and other teaching techniques that were unfamiliar to me, I failed because the Spirit still talks to me in German, not in English. But when I got on my knees to ask for help, I learned to depend on the Spirit to guide me, secure in the knowledge that I am a daughter of God. I had to learn and believe that I did not need to compete with others to be loved and accepted by my Heavenly Father. …

“The day after I was born, my father wrote me a letter,” Elder Pingree said. “He saved that letter, and later, when I left to serve a full-time mission, he mailed it to me. The letter contained several pages of his testimony and lessons he wanted me to learn during my life. As I read it, the Spirit bore witness to me that what I had been taught about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ by my parents was truth.”

As an elder in Boise, one evening I was working on the stake farm with Brother Olsen from the bishopric. As I recollect, only the two of us were there. Brother Olsen worked for the Idaho Power Company. Again, he was a few years older than I, and he was directing the work. One of the jobs we had to do was to repair some power lines. Ever since my childhood I have feared electricity. Even now I turn off all the power in the house if I am going to repair some electrical equipment. That evening the last thing we had to do before it got dark was to climb a telephone pole and splice two wires together that furnished power for part of the farm.

Brother Olsen offered to go up the pole. But though I feared what had to be done, I was younger and knew that I should do it. I asked him what to do. He gave me clear and complete instructions. I was to climb up the pole, take one wire and strip off the insulation about six inches, then take the other wire and strip off the insulation about six inches, join the wires together, and then reinsulate.

I asked him if the power was off. He assured me it was. I climbed the pole and followed his instructions. No one will know how difficult it was for me to take a large, high-powered line in my hand, strip off the insulation, then hold that wire and the connecting wire in my hand, splice them together, and then reinsulate them. Merlin was right. There was no power in the lines. I was absolutely safe.

The thing that I remember about that experience is that I had some doubt as to whether the power was off or not. I was fearful that someone else on the farm might throw a breaker and turn on the electricity. Nevertheless, my faith in Merlin and the fact that I was doing what the Lord wanted me to do was enough to overcome my fear.

As I was learning from my own true-life experience, I stood alone in my bedroom a few days after the operation, preparing to go to church. I held a tie in my hand and thought, Now what am I going to do with this silly tie? I thought about having my mother help me but soon rejected the idea, knowing she couldn’t go on my mission to tie my ties and otherwise care for me. I simply had to fend for myself. With patience, I tied my tie, and although I used my teeth a little, I learned that I could do it and do it well. That day, a window was opened to my mind where I could clearly see that with patience, faith, and determination, I would be able to handle almost any challenge I would face.

When I was in elementary school, we walked home on a paved trail that wound back and forth up the side of a hill. There was another trail, unpaved, called the “boys’ trail.” The boys’ trail was a path in the dirt that went straight up the hill. It was shorter but much steeper. As a young girl, I knew I could walk up any trail the boys could. More important, I knew I was living in the latter days and that I would need to do hard things, as did the pioneers—and I wanted to be prepared. So every now and then, I would lag behind my group of friends on the paved trail, remove my shoes, and walk barefoot up the boys’ trail. I was trying to toughen up my feet.
As a young Primary girl, that is what I thought I could do to prepare. Now I know differently! Rather than walking barefoot up mountain trails, I know I can prepare my feet to walk on the covenant path by responding to the invitations of the Holy Ghost. For the Lord, through His prophet, is calling each of us to live and care in a “higher and holier way” and to “take a step higher.”

On 24 March 2024, the Notse Branch was organized. Presiding at the creation of the branch was President Kelvar J Lundeen of the Benin Cotonou Mission, assisted by his counselor, Comlan Amegandji. Attending the meeting was the king’s special representative, Togbe Afanwubo III, who helped make the branch creation possible.
Following the organization of the branch, brother Kodjo Pascal Adokou was called and set apart by the mission president as president of the Notsé Branch. The saints in Notsé then witnessed the ordination of their very first Melchizedek Priesthood holders. Brother Thimothée Atchavi was first ordained an elder and was followed by brother Fovi Kedagni. These brothers were then called and set apart as the first and second counselors in the branch presidency. “A new page in the history of the Church in Togo is being written with the creation of this Notse Branch,” noted President Amegandji.
“March is a period full of blessings to me. A baby boy was given to me at the beginning of the month, we got a building for our brothers and sisters in Notsé and now we’ve become a branch! God is always on my side!” exclaimed President Adokou.
Isaac Valentin, a friend of the Church attending the meeting said, “It’s a good thing to know that this Church that I have visited as a young boy in Lome is now available in Notsé. We are not going to stop participating after the branch creation ceremony, but we will keep on coming to the church until we become a full-time member.”
Despite the blazing sun and intense 35°C heat of the day, all participants in the ceremony stayed until the group photo. President Lundeen and his counselor spent time teaching the new presidency how to lead in the Lord’s way. With joy and fellowship, the members, friends, and missionaries departed, leaving with eager hearts to meet again on Sunday for a sacrament meeting with the newly called leaders.

In March 1958, while serving as one of the first missionaries in the West Spanish-American Mission, Elder H. Aldridge Gillespie had an experience that profoundly affected his life. Elder Spencer W. Kimball of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (1895–1985) had been assigned to formally organize the mission, and the young Elder Gillespie, a newly called second counselor in the mission presidency, was given the opportunity to be his “chauffeur, roommate, and companion” for approximately two weeks.
“Elder Kimball had special spiritual capacities that touched my heart and influenced my opinion of what life should be and how I should live it,” Elder Gillespie recalls. “My concept of what man should be, what families should be, and how people should conduct themselves was greatly amplified in that brief time.”

I guess I always knew that Mom, Dad, and Grandma were Mormons. Sometimes Grandma took me and my brother to her church, but my family didn’t go to Sunday meetings. I wasn’t a member of any church.
I never really talked about religion with my friends. I had seen my friend Lynsi at Grandma’s church, but other than that, religion didn’t come up much.
Then one day at school, Lynsi said, “Karisa, I’m getting baptized this weekend. Would you like to come?”
I couldn’t go, but I started wondering what baptism was. How did Lynsi decide to be baptized? Did she have to take a test? Why did she have to be baptized at all?
A long time passed, and I couldn’t hold all these questions inside anymore. I decided to ask my mom about baptism and about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“Well, Dad and I were baptized in that church when we were kids, but we haven’t gone to church in a long time,” Mom said.
“What does a person do to be baptized?” I asked.
“Usually people who want to know more about the Church talk to missionaries. They teach people about what they believe,” Mom explained.
“Can I talk to the missionaries then?” I asked.
Mom looked uncertain. “I’m not sure, Karisa,” she said. “Asking the missionaries to teach you is a big commitment. You have to be willing to attend church regularly and live what they teach you. Are you ready to do that?”
“Yes, I promise, Mom!” I didn’t know why I said that. The missionaries hadn’t even taught me anything yet.
“We’ll talk about it again later,” Mom said.
The next day I couldn’t tell if Mom was willing to invite the missionaries over, so I started on my homework. But all I could think about was asking the missionaries about baptism and what they believe.
A little while later there was a knock on the door. My brother Kaleb answered and called for my parents.
I was surprised when Mom, Dad, and Kaleb entered the family room with two strangers.
Mom looked at me and said, “Karisa, these are the missionaries. Did you ask someone to send them here?”
My eyes widened as I looked at the two young men wearing dark pants, white shirts, and ties. One held a blue book with gold words on the cover. Their name tags said Elder Kamalu and Elder Hengen.
“No,” I said. “But I really hoped they would visit soon.”
Elder Kamalu smiled. “May we share a message with your family?” he asked my dad.
Dad nodded his head and even smiled a little. The missionaries didn’t stay for very long, but they left the blue book for us to read. It’s called the Book of Mormon. They asked if I would read the first page of it. I promised I would, but I still had so many questions. I couldn’t wait to get more answers!

Finally, may I tell you of a nine-year-old Spanish-American girl I interviewed one evening in Texas for baptism. I asked her if she knew who Jesus was. Her answer was, “Yes.” “Who is He?” I asked. Sweeping her hand over her head and gesturing at everything in sight, she said, “He owns all of this!” Could any nine-year-old, or perhaps any of us, have summed it up any better? In only five words she had described the Savior with simple clarity: “He owns all of this!” When the interview was over, she told her mother she did not want to leave the chapel but wanted to stay and sleep that night in “Jesus’ house.” “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.”

Over four years ago, Esther Ofosu of Aburi, Ghana, decided to attend meetings at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Accra, Ghana. After attending church on Sunday, Esther invited the missionaries to her home to meet her family and to teach them the gospel.
Elder Collins and Elder Morgan began to teach them about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The family began to come to church. Over time, they received testimonies. Even though it was not necessarily always easy to attend church or to do what their friends told them to do, they continued to come because they knew it was true. They felt something different when they came.
The elders invited the Ofosus to do something that would require great faith and might seem impossible at first. Elders Sanders and Morgan told them they must marry to follow the law of chastity in order to receive the blessing of baptism and confirmation. Marriage is no easy task in Ghana. The bride price involves serious money and at the time, the Ofosus had barely enough to provide for themselves and their two young boys. The missionaries told them to save one cedi in a jar every week, planting a seed of faith for the Ofosus to nourish and grow.
After four years of faithful church attendance and saving one cedi each week, the Ofosu family had finally saved up enough to have their traditional marriage. New elders were now serving in the area and met the Ofosu family. “You guys have picked up where they left off,” Samuel Ofosu exclaimed to Elder Olsen and Elder Linger.
As the wedding day approached, every cedi and every pesewa had been spent for the ceremony. The Ofosu family had spent all their money to have the Ghanaian traditional marriage.
On the morning of the marriage, Samuel Ofosu did not have a car or money to get to the place the wedding was being held. His phone was broken, it was 3 a.m. and he had no idea what to do to get to his own marriage ceremony. With a prayer in his heart, he found someone and asked them if he could use their phone to make a phone call. Samuel had a thought to call a random friend. Thankfully, his friend picked the phone and Samuel told him about the situation. His friend told him not to worry, just wait for a short time. In less than 20 minutes there was a car there to take Brother Ofosu to the wedding free of charge, a pure miracle by God’s hand.
“We truly thank you for your prayers,” Brother and Sister Ofosu told Elder Olsen and Elder Linger. “It is only by your prayers that everything worked out fine. Everyone was safe. The marriage was wonderful. We don’t owe anyone anything, but our pockets are empty.”
Elder Olsen shared that the “Ofosus are the some of the humblest, Christlike people I have ever met. They submit to God like a child does to his father. And because of this, they have pure joy in their lives. They are seriously always happy and so fun to be around, and their positive joyful energy radiates to all around them.”
On the Sunday following their baptism, Brother and Sister Ofosu shared, “Sometimes it would make me sad and discouraged when I would wake up Sunday morning and know that I wasn’t a member of the Church. But we are now free! We are now members of the Church!”
Elder Olsen shared, “This family is truly wonderful and brings so much joy into my heart. I feel so blessed to serve a mission and that I get to be a small part of their journey toward eternal salvation.”
On March 27, 2022, the Ofosus were confirmed members of the Church. One month after the Ofosus were baptized, Brother Ofosu was given the priesthood and had the opportunity to baptize their oldest son, Kofie.

Sometimes contentions arise because we disagree with what a leader is trying to do. I recall one couple who were very upset at their bishop. They came to me, their stake president, and said the bishop had asked their son to be his assistant—but that the bishop had asked him to get his haircut before he was presented to the quorum. Their son had come home angry. He had just had a haircut a few days before and felt no need to have it shorter. As the mother and father complained to me, they referred to how much more serious it would be if he were smoking or drinking. But getting a hair cut seemed so trivial! Why would the bishop insist on that?
After listening to what they had to say, I asked them if they felt they really loved their son. They looked surprised at my question, but quickly assured me this was the reason they were here. I then told them that if he were my son I would go home and tell him how grateful I was that the bishop had such great love and respect for him. It was a great compliment to be chosen to be an assistant. Undoubtedly the bishop felt he must have leadership ability and the ability to be an example to all the other priests in the ward. I would explain to him how the Lord loves an obedient servant and that many times our obedience has to rest upon faith.
I told this wonderful couple that they needed to strengthen that bishop in the eyes of their son in every way possible; to do otherwise would only bring them unhappiness. Failure to support the bishop would communicate to their son that the bishop was not called of God, that we may follow our leaders only when we choose. The danger of this approach would be that they would be teaching their son that he was a law unto himself, ever sitting as a judge over the words and actions of those called to guide him. There would come a day, I said, when something much more critical than a haircut would arise to test their son. How he—and they—responded to this smaller test would help determine his response to the greater ones.
As we chatted, the contention in the room melted away. Through the Spirit we were all reminded that contention is of the devil and can bring only destructive results.

Some time ago I went into a flower shop and started talking to the owner about the plants he was selling, and we exchanged ideas about the different ways of growing them. After that, each time I worked in that area, I would go into this shop and talk to the owner about his work and mine, until little by little I began to talk to him about the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I started by talking about God and sharing what I felt about Him. Diego, the owner of the flower business, told me he didn’t believe in Jesus Christ; he just believed in an entity who had the power to create all things. This surprised me, and I told him I wanted to give him something that was very important to me—the Book of Mormon. I also told him I wanted to introduce him to the missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Diego agreed. I set up the appointment, and later the missionaries went to his business. After he had received three discussions, he invited the missionaries to his home.
At this time my work area changed, but one day I happened to run into the missionaries who were teaching Diego. I asked about him and tried to find out what kind of progress he was making. They told me he was going to be baptized, but they didn’t know when. A week later I learned that Diego’s family had been baptized, except for his daughter Carla. I was happy to hear about their decision. My contact had borne fruit.
Two weeks later at a stake meeting, I heard about a convert named Diego Páez who had recently been baptized and who was very enthusiastic about the Church. Later the mission president told me they were going to confirm him on Sunday.
The following Sunday I went to Diego’s ward and saw him sitting with his family on one of the pews. I sat down next to him, and he smiled and said, “Thank you, Daniel.”
When Diego sat in the chair where the elders quorum president would confirm him a member of the Church, I was invited to join the circle. I did so, and when the elders quorum president said the words “Receive the Holy Ghost,” I too could feel the influence of the Spirit. My heart beat hard, and peace completely overwhelmed me.
I had never felt such joy. When Diego stood up, I embraced him. Tears sprang from my eyes. I felt strengthened, as described in Doctrine and Covenants 50:22: “Wherefore, he that preacheth and he that receiveth, understand one another, and both are edified and rejoice together.”
As for Diego’s daughter Carla, she was baptized the following week by her father. The Páez family has continued to progress. Milagros, who was three years old at the time of the baptisms, kneels down and says prayers with her parents, asking Heavenly Father to bless her family. Diego and his wife, Gabriela, work to share the gospel with others.
There must be a lot of Páez families all over the world—just waiting for someone to bring the light of truth to their lives. What a joy it is to share what we feel for the gospel of Jesus Christ and to be able to help others feel the way we do.

What if some of our traditions don’t have a place in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ? Letting go of them may require the emotional support and nurture of another, as it did for me.
When I was born, my parents planted a magnolia tree in the backyard so there would be magnolias at my wedding ceremony, held in the Protestant church of my forefathers. But on the day of my marriage, there were no parents at my side and no magnolias, for as a one-year convert to the Church, I had traveled to Salt Lake City, Utah, to receive my temple endowment and be sealed to David, my fiancé.
When I left Louisiana and neared Utah, a feeling of homelessness swept over me. Before the wedding, I would be staying with David’s step-grandmother, who was lovingly known as Aunt Carol.
Here I was, a stranger to Utah, going to stay in a stranger’s house before being sealed—for eternity—to a family I barely knew. (Good thing I loved and trusted my future husband and the Lord!)
As I stood at the front door of Aunt Carol’s house, I wanted to shrink away. The door opened—I stood there like a scared rabbit—and Aunt Carol, without a word, reached out and took me into her arms. She, who had no children of her own, knew—her nurturing heart knew—that I needed a place to belong. Oh, the comfort and sweetness of that moment! My fear melted, and there came to me a sense of being anchored to a spiritually safe place.
Love is making space in your life for someone else, as Aunt Carol did for me.

The Beehive class of three girls of the Alton Ward, Kanab Utah Stake, set a long-range goal to be members of the state 1-A girls basketball championship team.
The trio—Holly Heaton, Wendy Crosby, and Deanna Rust—attended workshops and clinics and practiced several hours each day, summer and winter, to achieve their goal. Their efforts paid off. The three girls were all starting members of the 1-A Utah State Girls Basketball championship team. Holly was voted the Most Valuable Player at the state tournament, and Deanna was named to the All-State Tournament team. In addition, they were all starters on the 1-A State Girls Volleyball championship team.
When the girls go to other schools to play, they always arrive wearing dresses. They take pride in setting an example of modesty and femininity.
In addition, they are all excellent students and have perfect attendance at church, even when they are very late getting home from away games.