Gospel Story Finder

I began to see changes occurring in my students as they demonstrated a belief in themselves, completing Elder Bednar’s first step, offering yourself. Their regular attendance created a support system among each other which demonstrated their love for each other. I witnessed the third step, loyalty, from sister Isabel Morel who came every week to support her niece and a friend. Although sister Morel had never played piano during our class, I somehow felt that she knew how to play.
The following week, Sister Morel explained that she knew how to play the piano and she felt prompted to offer her assistance and would be interested in assisting with the class if I needed her. She was another answer to my prayers. Her willingness to act, by offering to share her talent, selflessly serve and love her niece and her friend, were all steps taken towards being more fully converted to our Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ.

When David and I served a mission in São Paulo, Brazil, my Portuguese was limited at best. My testimony sounded something like, “You nice, me happy, gospel true.”

We gave many stake conference talks, and I always had my same trusty, dog-eared Portuguese talk ready to read. Then one Sunday morning, while sitting on the stand at a stake conference and preparing to step to the podium and read that talk, I was suddenly aware of a strong spiritual prompting. It went something like this: “Leave your talk on your seat and speak from the heart.” Oh dear!

I became all trembly and twittery! My focus on the Lord sharpened considerably! I turned my hope, thoughts, and feelings over to Heavenly Father, pointedly pleading for help in the name of His Son. I wobbled to the podium, stared out at the audience, and opened my mouth. My verb endings were surely mangled, and no doubt my pronunciation hurt every ear. As I directly focused and concentrated on the Savior’s love and mercy, I was able to share it. The Spirit used those broken Portuguese sentences to convey truth. Many hugs and tears came from members after the meeting.

The Lord will take our earnest, though ­meager, offering—be it two small fish and a few small barley loaves13 or weak Portuguese or a sincere though awkward attempt to mend a ­relationship—and turn it into a nourishing meal if we come with faith and focus to Him for help.

As a new convert to the Church, I experienced a spiritual rescue through the saving hands of a faithful member of the Church. I grew up in Matsumoto, Japan, close to where the Nagano Winter Olympics were held. My hometown looks very much like Salt Lake City, a valley surrounded by beautiful mountains. When I was 17 years old, I met two American missionaries, Elder Carter and Elder Hayashi. Though our ages were only two or three years apart, the elders had something wonderful that I had never felt before. They were diligent, cheerful, and filled with love and light. I was deeply impressed by their qualities, and I wanted to become like them. I listened to their message and decided to be baptized. My parents, who were Buddhist, strongly opposed my baptism. Through the help of the missionaries and the Lord, I received permission and miraculously was baptized.
The next year I entered the university in Yokohama. Living alone, far from my hometown and the people I knew, I became lonely and strayed from the Church. One day I received a postcard from a Church member back home. She wrote that she had heard I was not attending Church meetings. She quoted a scripture and invited me to return to church. I was overwhelmed by the words of the scripture. This helped me realize that maybe I had lost something important, and I pondered and struggled for many days. This also caused me to remember a promise the missionaries had made to me: “If you read the Book of Mormon and ask in fervent prayer if the promise found in Moroni is true, you will know the truth through the power of the Holy Ghost.”2
I realized that I was not praying with all of my heart and decided to do so. One morning I woke up early, knelt in my small apartment, and prayed sincerely. To my surprise, the confirmation of the Holy Ghost came upon me as promised. My heart burned, my body shook, and I was filled with joy. Through the power of the Holy Ghost, I learned that God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, live and that They truly appeared to Joseph Smith. I made a commitment in my heart to repent and faithfully follow Jesus Christ for the rest of my life.
This spiritual experience changed my life completely! I decided to serve a mission out of gratitude to the Lord and to the Church member who rescued me. Following my mission, I was sealed in the temple to a wonderful girl, and we have been blessed with four children. Not coincidentally, this is the same girl who saved me by sending a postcard to that lonely apartment in Yokohama many years ago. I remain ever grateful for the mercy of the Lord and the help of this Church member, who invited me to once again come unto Christ.3

Jamie ran outside, the screen door banging shut behind her. “Can I go for a bike ride?” she asked Mom, who was pulling weeds in the flower bed.
“Sure. Don’t go too far,” Mom replied.
“I won’t.” Jamie wheeled her brand-new bike out of the garage. She loved how the silver spokes gleamed in the sunshine. And she loved how fast it went—much faster than her old bike.
Jamie buckled her helmet and looked up and down the country road in front of her house to make sure no cars were coming. Then she jumped on her bike and started pedaling up the hill. She loved to go all the way to the top and then coast back down. With the wind in her face, it felt like she was flying.
Jamie’s legs ached as she pedaled. When she was halfway to the top of the hill, she saw something square and tan-colored in the middle of the road. It looked like one of the worn-out foam chair cushions she had taken to the trash last week when Mom had reupholstered the kitchen chairs. One of the cushions must have fallen out of the garbage truck and been left in the road.
Then Jamie got a great idea. “What if I run over the cushion on my way down?” she thought. She imagined how it would feel to run over the squishy cushion with her bike’s tires.
Jamie finally reached the top of the hill and turned her bike around with a grin. Now the ride down seemed even more exciting. She wanted to hit the cushion exactly in the middle.
She gripped the handlebars and pushed off. She pedaled hard a few times and then started coasting. The wind whipped through her hair, and the road was going by in a blur. The cushion was straight ahead, and Jamie pedaled a few extra times to get even more speed.
Then, when she had almost reached the cushion, Jamie heard a voice say very clearly, “NO.”
Immediately, Jamie turned the handlebars. Her bike tire whizzed by the cushion, just missing it. She braked hard and skidded to a stop at the side of the road.
Jamie’s legs were shaking as she got off her bike and walked over to the cushion. When she got closer, she saw it wasn’t a cushion at all. It was a big, flat, heavy rock.
Jamie didn’t feel like riding anymore. She pushed her bike the rest of the way home and told Mom what had happened.
“Do you know what would have happened if you had hit that rock?” Mom asked.
“I would have been hurt,” Jamie said.
“The rock would have stopped your bike, and you would have been thrown off. You could have been hurt very badly,” Mom said.
Jamie’s eyes got big. “It was the Holy Ghost that said ‘no,’ wasn’t it?”
Mom nodded. “You were blessed because you listened and obeyed right away.”
Jamie gave Mom a hug. “I’m glad the Holy Ghost was there to protect me!”
“So am I.” Mom hugged Jamie extra hard. “Why don’t we say a prayer of thanks right now and then go move the rock so no one gets hurt?”
Jamie nodded. Her heart felt happy and light. She knew this was also the Holy Ghost telling her that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love her.

In the last general conference, Elder Carlos A. Godoy told of his personal experience in using his patriarchal blessing to evaluate his goals:

At the end of the 1980s, our young family was made up of my wife, Mônica, two of our four children, and me. We lived in São Paulo, Brazil, I worked for a good company, I had finished my university studies, and I had recently been released as bishop of the ward where we had lived. Life was good, and everything seemed to be as it should be—until one day an old friend came to visit us.
At the conclusion of his visit, he made a comment and asked a question that unsettled my convictions. He said, “Carlos, everything seems to be going well for you, your family, your career, and your service in the Church, but—” and then came the question, “if you continue to live as you are living, will the blessings promised in your patriarchal blessing be fulfilled?” [Godoy, “The Lord Has a Plan for Us!” Ensign, November 2014]

As a result of this question from his friend, Elder Godoy paid attention to his patriarchal blessing and made some necessary changes in his life that would help him realize Heavenly Father’s promised blessings for him.

I didn’t think I’d ever want another dog after Lady. She was a beautiful black cocker spaniel with a happy smile. She went with me everywhere, following me to the bus stop in the morning and waiting there for me after school.
Then one day Lady wasn’t there. As soon as I burst into the kitchen and saw the look on Mom’s face, I knew. As gently as she could, she told me how Lady had been hit by a car. Dad helped me bury her. I left that little mound in the meadow with a huge, hard hurt in my chest.
Maybe it was harder for me to lose my dog than for some people, because I lived out of town on a little farm. I didn’t get to play basketball or Little League. I had too many chores. But no matter what chores I had, Lady was always with me.
After Lady was killed, I didn’t want another dog. Every night before I went to bed and every morning when I rolled off my mattress, I prayed that the terrible hurt would go away and that I could be happy again. I did that for two weeks straight, but the hurt was still there.
Then one afternoon as I was bringing the cows in from the meadow, she was there, lying under a tree, her tongue hanging out, her ears pricked up.
I looked around, expecting to see her owner. But there was nobody—just that dog, the cows, and me. “What’s your name, dog?”
She started thumping her tail on the ground, just begging me to pet her. I patted her on the head, then scratched her ears. You’d have thought I’d given her ten pounds of steak the way she carried on.
From then on I couldn’t go anyplace without her tagging along. “She’s just like a second shadow,” my little sister, Stephanie, said.
I smiled. “Stephanie, you just named my dog for me—Shadow!”
“What kind of dog do you think she is?” I asked Dad that first evening.
He studied Shadow. “I can’t be sure. I’d guess she’s a German shepherd-collie mix.”
“Daniel,” Mom said, “you shouldn’t get too attached to Shadow. She belongs to someone.”
“Someone just let her loose,” I argued. “People from town do that sometimes. And she didn’t have a collar or anything.”
“Maybe so, but she’s too good a dog to have just been turned loose. She’s been well fed and groomed. Somebody’s probably looking for her.”
“She’s mine,” I said stubbornly. “You’ve told me all along I ought to pray for things.”
“Did you pray for another dog?” Dad asked.
“Not exactly,” I said slowly. “But ever since Lady was killed, I’ve prayed that the hurt would go away. Well, it’s gone, Dad. As soon as I saw Shadow, I didn’t hurt anymore. I didn’t pray for a dog, but I guess Heavenly Father thinks I need one.”
“I still think you’d better try to find the owner,” Mom said. “Then if no one claims her, she’s yours.”
I didn’t want to, but I made some handwritten signs and hung them along the highway in front of our house. But no one ever came.
Shadow was the greatest! When I got up in the morning, she was waiting for me. It didn’t matter if I was milking the cows, weeding, or hauling hay. She swam with me in the creek and lay beside me on the big gray boulder as we dried off.
I could talk to her, and she’d look right into my eyes as if she understood every word I said. Every day I thanked Heavenly Father for her.
One afternoon I went with Mom to the supermarket. While she shopped, I studied the notices on the bulletin board. People were selling beds, washers, dryers, and a bunch of other stuff.
I spotted the corner of a pink flyer—and wished I’d never gotten close to that old bulletin board. “Lost in the Sanderson Park area,” the flyer proclaimed in big, black letters, “a light brown and white dog, German shepherd-collie mix. Answers to the name Trina. $20.00 reward.”
I didn’t want to believe that Shadow was that lost dog. I tore the flyer down, stuffed it into my pants pocket, and headed for the car. All the way home, I tried to tell myself that Shadow wasn’t the missing dog. Sanderson Park was clear on the west side of town. We lived over two miles north of town. How could a dog get way over there?
That evening as I finished feeding the calves, Shadow was at the end of the manger. “Come here, Trina,” I called softly. Shadow’s ears perked up. She gave me a puzzled stare, then looked about as though searching for someone. “Come here, Trina,” I repeated dully. She bounded toward me and began looking around again. A horrible hurt exploded inside me.
“They can’t have her,” I raged out loud. “I found her. I fed her and looked after her. She’d probably be dead now if I hadn’t come along. She’s mine!”
As hard as I argued with myself that I was the rightful owner, I couldn’t convince myself. The hurt that I’d felt when Lady was killed didn’t seem nearly as sharp and painful as what tore at me now.
I hardly touched Mom’s mashed potatoes, gravy, fried chicken, and hot rolls at dinner. “Are you feeling all right, Daniel?” she asked.
“I guess I’m just not hungry. May I be excused?”
I went to my room and lay on the bed, blinking back the tears that kept welling up in my eyes. Slowly I pulled the pink flyer from my pocket. Whoever lost Shadow has probably already given up hope, I argued with my conscience. It’s been weeks since she showed up here. They probably think she’s dead by now.
It was late when I dragged down the hall to the kitchen, where Dad was thumbing through a stack of bills. I pushed the pink flyer in front of him. He glanced at me, then read the flyer. “Do you think Shadow’s this missing dog?” he asked.
“Maybe she was, but she’s mine now. You can’t make me take her back.”
“Daniel, I’m not going to make you take Shadow back. That’s your decision.”
“Why would Heavenly Father take back what He gave me?” I choked out. “She was the answer to my prayers.”
“I believe she was,” Dad agreed. “But,” he added gently, “she might not be the answer you think she is. Do you remember the story of Nephi and the brass plates? When Nephi returned to Jerusalem to get the plates from Laban, he didn’t know how hard it was going to be. He didn’t know he’d have to give up his gold and his silver. He didn’t know his brothers would attack him. He didn’t know he’d have to kill Laban. Those were all things he would rather not have done. Why do you suppose he did them?”
“He was doing what the Lord commanded him,” I mumbled.
“That’s right. He had grasped the iron rod his father, Lehi, later saw in a vision. The iron rod is the word of God. In other words, it’s the things the Lord commands or asks us to do. No matter where that iron rod took him, Nephi was going to follow it because that was what the Lord wanted him to do. When you found Shadow, she was an answer to your prayer, but Heavenly Father might have thought you needed something more than you needed another dog.”
“Like what?” I protested. “What did I need more than Shadow?”
“Maybe the Lord wanted to see if you’d be like Nephi, choosing the right when it was the hardest thing to do. He answered your prayer, Daniel. Now you have to be willing to accept His answer. And maybe you’re the answer to someone else’s prayer. Maybe some other people are praying that Shadow will return to them. How their prayer is answered might depend on what you choose to do.”
I didn’t sleep very well. Most of the night I kept telling myself that no matter what happened, I was going to keep Shadow. But by morning I knew better. “I’m taking Shadow back,” I announced quietly at breakfast.
“I’ll drive you over,” Dad offered.
“I’d like to take her alone,” I answered. “I’ll ride my bike.”
It was all I could do to ride away from the house, with Shadow tagging along. The address on the flyer was for a house at the end of a dirt lane. As I started down it, Shadow yapped twice and darted ahead. Two girls playing in front of the house spotted Shadow. “Trina! Trina’s back!”
A man and a lady came out of the house on the run. The whole family gathered around Shadow, hugging her and burying their faces in her shiny coat. No one even noticed me standing there. Then Shadow dashed over and rubbed against my leg. She was as happy as any dog could be.
“I guess you’re the one who brought Trina back?” the man said, smiling. After I nodded, he said warmly, “We sure appreciate that, Son. We were afraid that she was gone for good.”
I held out the pink flyer. “I saw this down at the store.” I felt a lump form in my throat. “I found Shadow—I mean Trina—a few weeks ago.” I told how I’d put up signs looking for the owner.
“Well, we appreciate your bringing her back.”
“Give him the reward, Dad,” one of the girls called out.
“That’s right!” The man reached for his wallet, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to me. I didn’t take it. He pulled out a second twenty-dollar bill. “This is for taking care of her.”
“I didn’t bring her back for the money,” I said softly. “I didn’t want to give her up. I hope you’ll take really good care of her.” I turned and started pushing my bike down the lane to the main road.
“Son,” the man called after me. I stopped and turned. “I know how you feel, giving up a dog that you love.” He glanced down at Shadow. “It won’t be long before Trina’s old enough to be a mom. If you’re interested in a dog, you can have your pick of her pups. That’s a promise.”
There was still a big hurt inside, knowing I was leaving Shadow behind, but I was glad that I’d followed the iron rod Dad had talked about. And I suddenly realized that even though the answer to my prayer was different from what I’d expected, Heavenly Father had known what I needed. “I’d like that, Mister,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “I’d like that a whole lot.”

My mother taught me the same principle by insisting that I work hard. She got me out the door, mowing grass, trimming the hedge, and doing other chores around the house. I would gladly have played basketball or football or played army or ridden bikes all day long, but my mother believed that work came first. I didn’t appreciate that at the time. I thought that I was being driven pretty hard. It wasn’t until I reached the mission field that I was grateful to know how to work. I had been given a priceless nugget.

“Congratulations, José,” Bishop García said. He handed me my new temple recommend.
“Thank you!” I said. I shook his hand and walked out of the office, staring down at the white paper. I could go to the temple to do baptisms!
My abuelos (grandparents) were waiting in the hall. My parents didn’t come to church very often, so I usually went to church with Abuela and Abuelo. They both gave me a hug.
“Are you excited for your first temple trip next week?” Abuelo asked as we walked out of the building. “We’ll take a bus to the Santo Domingo Temple.”
“Yes!” I said. But I couldn’t help noticing a funny, fluttery feeling in my stomach.
“It will be so nice to go together as a family,” Abuela said with a big smile.
I smiled back, but the funny feeling didn’t go away.
As the day of the temple trip got closer, I got more nervous. I finally talked to Abuela about it.
She was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, but she stopped when I came in. “What’s wrong?” she asked, wiping her hands on a towel. “You look worried.”
I sighed and sat down at the table. “I’m really excited to go to the temple. But I’m also nervous.”
Abuela nodded, like she understood how I felt. “You don’t need to worry. People will be there to help you the whole time.”
As she spoke, I felt a warm, comforting feeling from my head to my toes. I knew the temple would be special.
Soon the day of our temple trip came. I put on my Sunday clothes and combed my hair. Abuela came into my room.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Excited! I can’t wait to go to the temple.”
Abuela sat on the end of my bed and pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.
“This is a temple ordinance card,” she said. “It’s for my brother. He was very special to me. He died before he could be baptized. Would you like to be baptized for him in the temple today?”
Abuela held out the paper to me. I read the name: Ramon Rodriguez. I could tell Abuela loved her brother, and I was glad she trusted me to get baptized for him.
“Of course, Abuela. Thanks!” I carefully put the card in my pocket.
While riding the bus to the temple, Abuela told about when she went to the temple for the first time with Abuelo. Back then, they had to go all the way to Peru because there wasn’t a temple in the Dominican Republic.
When we got to the temple, Bishop García was already there. My eyes widened as we walked up to the building. It was so beautiful! I paused to read the words above the doors: Holiness to the Lord: The House of the Lord.
As I walked through the doors, I knew I was entering a special space. All my worries seemed to melt away. Everything was quiet and calm. I felt peace.
After changing into white clothes, I stood in the baptismal font with Bishop García. I listened carefully as he said the words of the baptismal prayer. When he said Ramon’s name, a peaceful feeling filled me.
Bishop García lowered me into the water. When I came up, I was smiling. I couldn’t wait to come to the temple again!

Marriage is like climbing a mountain. You tie yourself to a companion, and you start up the mountain of life. As a child comes along, you tie him to Mom and Dad and continue your journey. The ropes will hold all of the mountain climbers together. But there are many elements—the wind and the rain and the snow and the ice—all the elements of the world will tear at you to pull you off that eternal mountain. How do you reach the summit?
Someone has said it this way: “Thee lift me, and I’ll lift thee, and we’ll ascend together.” What does that mean?
I can remember an experience in my life that illustrates this idea. I was at Harvard Business School. I was stretched to my capacity. In a student’s first year at that institution, the teachers take away every bit of self-confidence you have, no matter what your background is before you get there, so that you learn what it’s like to have to achieve more than you’ve ever done in your life before.
At an important point in my schooling, a mission president asked me to be an elders quorum president. It is the only time in my life that I ever questioned an assignment. For every one of you the question will come in life, “When is the time to serve?” The only answer I can give you is, “When you are asked.”
So I went home and said to my wife, “There is a chance of failing in my schooling if I become an elders quorum president.” She said to me the words which have helped for many years: “Bob, I would rather have an active priesthood holder than a man who holds a master’s degree from Harvard.” But as she put her arms around me, she said, “We’ll do them both.” That is eternal partnership.
In the Doctrine and Covenants (I would hope each one of you would write this verse down and put it in your pocket and have it with you at all times for those challenging moments), we read, “Therefore, strengthen your brethren in all your conversation, in all your prayers, in all your exhortations, and in all your doings” (D&C 108:7). In other words, every day you help one another as you speak, as you pray, in your exhortations, and in your doings.
I realize the importance of setting your course, of knowing where you are going. Please date extensively. Please know the kind of person you want to be with. Please make sure that you help those you come in contact with. Please point them in the direction of associating with many people.
Make sure that you know before you get married what that person really wants to be. You can do that by seeing if he or she goes to his or her meetings and has a testimony and can talk to you about eternal goals now.
I ask the Lord’s blessings to be with you. I know that God lives and that Jesus is the Christ. I bear testimony to you that those moments in my life when I have been unhappy, depressed, or sad are when I have strayed, even in a minor degree, from the teachings of the Lord. That you might have true happiness and find the joy of a celestial marriage with a little heaven on earth is my prayer.

Sometimes we need more than comfort or strength alone; sometimes the blessings we need are more tangible. Tania D. remembers such a time. Her family was facing an especially trying time financially. “It was a Saturday evening, and we had only 40 pesos [about US$1] left for the week, and we didn’t have dinner or even charcoal for our stove at home,” says Tania. “My mother gave me a list of all these things we needed, and we needed 250 pesos to buy all of it. The first thing we needed to buy was charcoal so we could cook dinner.” Tania could see there was not enough money for everything. Then she realized they would not have money for bus fare to go to church the next day. “I told my mother that we didn’t have enough for the fare to go to church. But my mother is really faithful, and she simply told me that ‘God will provide.’
“On my way to the store I was crying because we didn’t have enough money for everything, and I didn’t know what to do,” Tania says. As she rolled up one of the 20-peso bills and put it into her pocket, she did the only thing she could think to do that would help—she said a prayer. “I prayed to Heavenly Father that we could somehow find a way to accommodate our needs.”
But when she got to the first store, she found that the price of charcoal had gone up from 5 pesos to 20 pesos. “I was hesitant to buy it,” Tania says, “but I could feel the Holy Ghost whispering to me to buy it anyway, so I did. Now I had only 20 pesos left, but I still had many things to buy, including diapers for my brother and clean water to drink. So I went to the next store to buy food for our meal, and it was too expensive. I reached into my pocket where I put the 20 pesos, and there were five 20-peso bills in the roll. I started crying right in front of the store owner.
“In the end I was able to buy all of the things we needed,” Tania says, “and we had enough for fare to go to church the next day. When I got home, I went to my room and offered a prayer to God to thank Him for the blessing He had given to us. I know that God really lives and answers our prayers, especially those times when we need Him most and we offer a sincere prayer. He really will answer that prayer.”

Things were all set for a really fun weekend. My friend Tara and I had set up a girls-ask group date with some young men in our stake, and we were excited. A popular movie had just been released from theaters to DVD, and we were going to watch it all together at a friend’s house.
And then Nathan, my date, called.
“You know, Jennifer,” he said, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should do something else tonight.”
A panicky feeling gripped my chest. Was Nathan backing out of the date?
“Umm, what do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“Well,” he continued, “I think that movie is just going to be watching hours of battles. Could we do something else instead?”
The panicky feeling left as I realized he was right. The movie, even though it was popular and didn’t have a bad rating, did have a lot of violence in it.
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “You got it.”
I called Tara, and we decided to have a board game night instead. It ended up being much more fun and social than staring at the TV for a couple of hours.
I feel so grateful that Nathan was willing to tell me how he really felt about the movie. His high standards were a great example to me and pushed my standards even higher. Since then, I’ve avoided a lot of other movies that, when I stop and think about it, aren’t very uplifting or fun, even if the rating isn’t that bad or if they’re really popular. I also never felt offended that Nathan didn’t like our original activity. That has given me the strength to speak up in situations when my standards are at stake. Nathan didn’t offend anyone by being honest about his feelings, and so I learned that, even if some people do take offense, I shouldn’t worry about standing up for my values either.

When President Kimball died, we were living in Arizona. President Kimball had been in our home. We had knelt with him in family prayer, and he had eaten bread and milk with us. We knew he was a prophet of God.
I wanted a witness of the Spirit that President Benson was God’s chosen prophet. I wanted to know more than that he was just a good person and next in line after President Kimball. The Lord was kind to me, and, after fasting and prayer, I received, by the Spirit, the witness that President Benson was indeed God’s chosen prophet for this time, with a special calling and a special message for our day.

Soon after young Gordon was ordained a deacon, his father took him to stake priesthood meeting. To open the meeting, the men sang “Praise to the Man” (Hymns, number 27), a wonderful song about the Prophet Joseph Smith. Of that experience, President Hinckley said: “Something happened within me as I heard those men of faith sing. There came into my boyish heart a knowledge, placed there by the Holy Spirit, that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet of the Almighty” (“Joseph the Seer,” Ensign, May 1977, 66). Throughout his life, Gordon B. Hinckley has borne powerful testimony of Joseph Smith.

Among the first to accept the gospel in Tanzania was Robert Israel Muhile. Robert attended his first LDS meeting in Egypt, where he was working and studying. At church, he met a missionary couple who taught him the discussions and baptized him. In May 1991 he was ordained an elder and decided to take the gospel to his family in Tanzania. But when he returned to his village—one thousand miles and three days by bus from Tanzania’s capital, Dar es Salaam—his efforts went without success.

After six months, Robert traveled to Nairobi, Kenya, and secured permission from the mission president to administer the sacrament to himself. “I know how important those emblems are,” Robert says. “I didn’t feel well spiritually.” Back home, Robert continued to invite his family to join him for worship service, and they continued to turn him down. So he held his own service alone. He describes his service simply:

“I prepared water and bread and more water to clean my hands, and a small towel. I sang a song to myself out loud. I had my hymn book. After that, I offered an opening prayer. Because I was alone I didn’t have any business to do, so I sang the sacrament hymn and prepared the sacrament. Then I knelt and blessed and took it. After the sacrament, I covered it, as we respect it always. I offered myself a talk—my testimony. Then I sang as in Sunday School and then read from Gospel Principles. I finished with a prayer. I then attended priesthood. After singing a hymn, I’d have a prayer, then read from the priesthood manual the lesson I had chosen for that day. After that, I finished by singing and then offered the closing prayer.”

After being home two months, Robert received a letter from Lervae and Joyce Cahoon, the first missionaries sent into Tanzania. They requested his services as a translator. He accepted and traveled to Dar es Salaam to join them. While there, he met and married Joy Nassiuma, a convert from Nairobi. In July 1993, Robert and Joy had their marriage sealed in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple.

After a few years of marriage, Sandra and I had our third child, a little boy named Stephen who was born just three days before Christmas. When he was born, he could not inflate his lungs. He had a valiant little spirit about him. He fought for life, but the doctors said it wasn’t likely he would live. Our bishop invited the ward to join their prayers with ours for our son.
The greatest gift that special Christmas Eve was being able to give him a blessing. After the blessing, I felt prompted to go to Sandra’s hospital room and tell her Stephen was going to be just fine and that she shouldn’t worry. On Christmas morning, the doctors told us Stephen was going to be OK. They had no idea what had happened. It was a miracle. I’m so grateful for the power of the priesthood. We consider Stephen’s survival to be one of our family’s greatest Christmas gifts.

I grew up in a home where my father was not a member of the Church and my mother was less active. That all changed later, and they spent much of their life as temple workers. With that background I didn’t know much about the Church, even though I thought I did. When I was about to graduate from the university, the Lord brought an angel into my life. Her name was Jeanene Watkins. She was a beautiful girl. It took me a long time to date her because so many others recognized her wonderful qualities. As we began to date, I discovered that she was all I had ever dreamed of finding. I fell completely in love with her. I could tell she had deep feelings for me also. One night when we were talking about the future, she carefully wove into the conversation an important comment. She said, “When I marry, it will be to a returned missionary in the temple.” I don’t remember anything else she said. I hadn’t thought much about a mission and didn’t understand much about temple marriage. I went home and couldn’t think of anything else. I was awake all night. I couldn’t do anything at the university the next day. Soon I was at the bishop’s office, having prayed about the importance of a mission. Jeanene and I both went on missions and when we returned were sealed in the temple. Much later I came to realize that she would have left me had I not made the right choices. Jeanene’s courage in standing up for her dream of a temple marriage to a returned missionary, regardless of her love for me, has made all of the difference in our lives together. I will never be able to thank her adequately for not compromising her righteous dreams.

The Church introduced the Light the World program with this same idea of doing things for others. This program brought tremendous joy into my life as each good act was unwrapped every day. I was curious and excited for what the next act would be.
Day 6 challenged us to donate and while I donated blood in the hospital, I remembered my mother who passed away from cancer at 30 years old, leaving behind her three precious children. I did witness the struggle of my father to arrange for blood as her body was running short of it. While I was carrying out this act of donation, I thought to myself that someone will not have to struggle to save a life as my father did with this single act of mine.
My experience with the Light the World program has been uplifting and my faith has been increased, my testimony has been strengthened and I have definitely become closer to my Heavenly Father. An increase in family love has been witnessed by me with my purpose on this earth being more clear in serving and loving my fellow brothers and sisters.
I know this program is designed by the hand of the Lord Himself to make us better people. The Savior loves each of us equally and His only plea to all of us is to love as He did. I hope and pray that we continue to light the world all 365 days of the year, one by one as Christ did.

Often opportunities to demonstrate our depth of commitment, our shore-of-Galilee-moments, come when disappointment and trials appear. When the floodwaters of heartache and sorrow flow, what rises to the surface? Will our hearts stay true? Elder Holland put it this way: "It is easy to be righteous when things are calm and life is good and everything is going smoothly. The test is when there is real trial or temptation, when there is pressure and fatigue, anger and fear, or the possibility of real transgression. Can we be faithful then?"[27] Such faithfulness, even in the midst of suffering and sorrow, was tenderly exemplified in an account told by Elder Maxwell: "Consider unselfish Melissa Howes, whose comparatively young father died of cancer several months ago. Just before, Melissa, who was then nine, was voice in family prayer, pleading, 'Heavenly Father, bless my daddy, and if you need him more than us, you can have him. We want him, but Thy will be done. And please help us not to be mad at you.'"[28]

“My mother helped us learn the value of work. We all had responsibilities every Saturday, and we always did our work before we ever went out to play. We’d scrub, clean, dust, and vacuum because Mother believed that we should learn how to do such tasks when we were young. She made games out of nearly everything we did; we’d play that the dishes were drowning people and that we were trying to save them. It was fun to be with her, for she taught us to enjoy whatever we did.”

It was in March of 1878 that Aurelia first thought seriously of an organization for children, especially so little boys could be taught “everything good and how to behave.” She wanted desperately to help them and prayed that she might be shown a way. “A fire seemed to burn within me,” she wrote in her history.
A few weeks later Sister Eliza R. Snow went to Farmington to meet with the Relief Society. She and Sister Emmeline B. Wells, who accompanied her, stopped at Aurelia’s home for a brief visit on their way to the depot to board a train back to Salt Lake. Sister Rogers discussed with them her concern over many of the boys, who she felt were not being properly taught the gospel nor the manners that would help them become good men. She asked if an organization to help them would ever be possible. We are told that Sister Snow was “silent for a few moments, then said there might be such a thing and that she would speak to the First Presidency about it.”
At that time John Taylor was president of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and the acting president of the Church, since a president had not yet been sustained by the Church membership after the death of Brigham Young. Sister Rogers talked with President Taylor who discussed the matter with other members of the Quorum of the Twelve, and they were inspired to write to Bishop John W. Hess of Farmington, asking him to call some women to be leaders. Sister Rogers was chosen to be the president. “Up to this period,” she said, “the girls had not been mentioned; but my idea was that the meeting would not be complete without them . …” And so it was agreed.
Louisa Haight and Helen M. Miller were selected as counselors of the new organization to be called “Primary,” a name suggested by Sister Eliza R. Snow. Bishop Hess urged these women to visit every home in the area to invite the children to attend and to obtain their parents’ permission. Sister Rogers reported that they enrolled 112 boys and 112 girls! The children, together with all members of the ward, were asked to attend a public meeting on Sunday, August 11, 1878, when these women, and others, were set apart by Bishop Hess and his counselors to preside over a Primary at Farmington.
Bishop Hess was most helpful, often attending Primary himself or delegating other priesthood holders to do so. In a letter written shortly after the organization of the first Primary, Sister Snow wrote encouragingly:
“I feel assured that the inspiration of heaven is directing you, and that a great and very important movement is being inaugurated for the future of Zion . … The angels and all holy beings, especially the leaders of Israel on the other side of the veil, will be deeply interested.”
Sister Rogers’ records that were so miraculously saved from the fire report that the children were called together for the very first Primary on August 25, 1878. This is how she described the Primaries that followed:
“When they [the children] came to understand the motives which prompted the calling of their little meetings, they seemed elated with what was being done for them. Obedience, faith in God, prayer, punctuality and good manners were subjects oft repeated. At these meetings, the whole association would generally take part in the exercises. The smaller children were seated on the front benches, the rest according to size. At the proper time the smallest would rise up and, perhaps, recite a verse or two in concert, then sit down and the next bench full take their turn in answering Bible questions. Another class would sing a song; another would repeat sentiments or verses, one at a time, and so on.
“… The next spring we rented a town lot and the Primary Association planted beans and popcorn to go with the Relief Society wheat in the time of famine which is to come.”