Gospel Story Finder

Keith slammed his books onto the kitchen table and sat down heavily with a sigh. His mother looked up from the letter she was writing. “Tell me about it, Keith.”
“Some boys dumped over Mrs. Peters’s trash can.”
“That’s terrible!”
“I didn’t do it. I was a block away when it happened. But by the time she came outside, the boys who did it had run away, and she yelled at me!”
“Did you tell her what happened?”
“She didn’t give me a chance. She said, ‘Aren’t you that Johnson boy? I certainly expected more of you!’ And then she slammed the door! She’s so mean—no wonder nobody likes her.”
“Jason likes her,” Mother reminded him. “I bet she really misses him now that he’s on his mission. He did so much for her.”
Keith looked sad. “I miss him too. I think about him all the time. Couldn’t he come back just for my baptism?”
“No, Keith. But do you know what helps me feel closer to him?”
“What?”
“Doing something that I know would make Jason happy, something that he might do if he were here. What do you think that he’d do for Mrs. Peters right now?”
Keith spoke quickly. “Clean up her trash.”
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
They found Mrs. Peters in her front yard. She was very happy when they offered their help.
“Thank you so much. I just can’t do as much as I used to since I broke my hip. And I didn’t really think Keith would have done it, since he’s a Johnson boy.”
Keith exchanged glances with Mother. “Mrs. Peters,” he said, “I could bring in your trash can when it’s empty and put it out again next Friday. In fact, I could do it for you every week.”
Mrs. Peters hesitated, “But, Jason—”
“I’m Keith.”
“I’m sorry—you remind me so much of your brother. Keith, I’m afraid I can’t afford to pay you.”
“That’s OK, Mrs. Peters. You can pay me the same way you paid Jason.”
Mrs. Peters was smiling now. “Don’t tell me that you like oatmeal cookies too!”
“Of course! I’m a Johnson boy!”

One Sunday while I was serving as mission president in Vladivostok, Russia, a rather amazing thing happened. I had gone to my office to gather some materials when a 13-year-old young man, Vladimir, whose friends call him Vova, knocked on the door. Vova is a deacon in the Vladivostok First Branch. He asked to visit with me in my office. He was accompanied by Sister Olga Vyachyeslavna Dryagunova. This sister speaks wonderful English, and the boy had asked her if she would act as his interpreter. Vova speaks no English, and I speak only a little Russian.
Vova had been an orphan, abandoned at birth because he was born with a cleft palate. The birth defect has since been partially repaired, leaving a scar. He was adopted by a wonderful woman who has treated him as her son. The boy is always happy. He has a smile on his face and a wonderful countenance when he passes the sacrament. He wears the mantle of a deacon as well as any boy I have ever known. He regularly bears a sweet and brief testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel. He is everything that a deacon ought to be.
At our meeting Vova spoke Russian and Sister Olga interpreted. She told me that Vova had come to fill out his application to serve as a full-time missionary. I asked, without a hint of a smile, “How old is he?”
She asked and he answered, “Nearly 14.”
Retaining my composure, I said, “Does he understand that he needs to be 19 before he can serve a mission?”
She responded, “He does, but he does not want to be tardy in getting his application in.”
I assured them that there was still time before we needed to send his missionary application to Moscow and then on to Salt Lake City. Neither the branch president nor I would forget when it was time for him to fill out his forms. I walked to the wall displaying pictures of the 44 missionaries then serving in the Russia Vladivostok Mission. I told Vova I was worried that the missionary papers might be returned if it appeared that I was recommending a 13-year-old boy for a mission.
Then I explained that since he was in my office where I conducted interviews with the missionaries, I thought it appropriate to ask him the questions that will be asked of him when he is 19, just to make sure that he was currently worthy to serve a mission. I then went through all the worthiness questions as though Vova were one of my full-time missionaries but tactfully passed over the boy-girl questions, thinking them premature. Besides, I didn’t want to embarrass Sister Olga.
Vova answered all my questions with the appropriate responses and with the wisdom of a boy twice his age. Upon further reflection, I guessed that he may have even asked one of the elders what interview questions he might anticipate from the mission president. I then told Vova that he could come back every six months, and we would repeat the interview process.
He then asked with some concern what he should say to let me know he was ready for another interview six months from now. I said to him, through Sister Olga, that it was time for him to have his first English lesson. I then said slowly, “This is what you should say to me, ‘President, I am ready for my missionary interview.’”
He repeated the important words he needed to know three times.
As I was ready to end the interview, Vova asked Sister Olga to ask me one last question. “President,” he said, “what advice do you have for me to prepare for my mission?”
I was a bit taken back. Few of my mature elders would have the wisdom to ask such a timely question. I pondered for a moment and then told him to do three things: First, I told him to read the scriptures each day. Second, I suggested that he pray to his Heavenly Father each morning and evening. Third, I told him to practice his English.
I confess the last suggestion was a little selfish on my part, as I was thinking how I would enjoy speaking with him in English and asking him questions about the things of his heart. I suggested he attend the free English classes taught by the missionaries, but he said his mother would not allow him to be out after dark. We agreed that he would work harder each day in his English class at school.
Later, when I saw the deacons in the hall after church, I asked Vova if he would like to repeat the phrase he needed to use to ask for his next interview. This he did in a fine manner. Then to my great surprise, I learned that each of the other deacons in the branch had also learned the magic words. Each one repeated while looking right at me, “President, I am ready for my missionary interview!”
Oh, the power of example! The joy of one willing to open his mouth and share the things he had learned with another was something I was trying to get all of my missionaries to experience! These Russian deacons were on the road to perfection.

As Carole reached to examine her work more closely, something fell from within the scarf. She withdrew her hand for a moment, then grasped a well-worn Book of Mormon. On the cover was printed, “NAOMI STEWART SWEET.” Carole opened the book to the inside cover and read,
“To Sweetie,
“This is a copy of the book I was telling you about. I hope you’ll read it even though you think it’s all fairy tales and wishes. Daddy says that you should read it and then pray to Heavenly Father and ask him if it’s true.
“I’ve already read it with my family, and even though I don’t understand everything, I know I can understand more each time I read it. I think the stories have good messages, and I love the prophets that wrote them. I also love Jesus, and I want to be like him. I love you, and I want you to know Jesus like I know him.
“With love from Carole.”
Carole clutched the book and looked out the window at fluffy snowflakes falling in glistening crescents along the corners of the windowpanes. How could it be that she had known Jesus so much more when she was only eleven years old? Where had her love of the Savior gone? She again thumbed through the book and looked at its color-streaked pages. Sweetie had read it and read it countless times. It was not age that made the book look like an antique, but its use. Carole had brought Sweetie the gospel message, and now she felt she was letting her down by wavering in her own testimony.
Carole began reading the marked verses and the notes written in the margins. One verse marked in yellow caught her eye, “O … the foolishness of men! When they are learned they think they are wise, and they hearken not unto the counsel of God, … wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not” (2 Ne. 9:28).
Images of her professors and their accusations of the irrational nature of religion and of the Church flashed through her mind. Yet she felt triumphant that she had been defending what she knew deep inside was right. She continued to read, “But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God” (2 Ne. 9:29).
Carole felt a flicker of hope. She was doing something good by learning at college. She just needed to keep up her study of the gospel. All at once, her guilt fled, and she realized she had a lot of work to do to get her testimony to the height it had been during her Primary days. For the first time in months, she felt happy.
Carole quickly put everything back into the trunk and came down the stairs. Sweetie was waiting with eager anticipation.
“Well, do you like it? Did you find the ring? I was sure you’d want it,” she smiled.
“Oh, Sweetie, thank you. Thank you for the best present anyone has ever given me!”
As Carole hugged Sweetie, she smelled cinnamon and ginger, and she smiled as a new feeling of hope grew inside of her.
“Come on, Sweetie,” she said. “You’ve got a tree that needs trimming.”

On a preparation day in the Cambodia Phnom Penh Mission, Elder Trent Nielson of Mesa, Arizona, watched as his fellow missionaries began a game of soccer. The field was adjacent to a school, and the activity of the missionaries attracted some of the local teenagers who approached Elder Nielson and asked why so many Americans were playing soccer in Cambodia. He explained that they were all missionary teachers of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The young men wanted to know how much these teachers were paid. When they learned that the missionaries paid their own way, they were dumbfounded. Why would anybody do such a thing?
Soon the curiosity of the teens led to probing spiritual questions, and they became engrossed in the missionary’s message. Before long Elder Nielson was teaching 10 young men on the grass of a soccer field about the Restoration of the gospel.
The member of the group who was the most antagonistic in the beginning became the most interested in the end. He and others asked for copies of the Book of Mormon. Elder Nielson realized that he did not have enough to give one to each of the inquisitive young men, so he hurriedly searched through the bags of the missionaries on the field for additional copies. Before the group left, Elder Nielson told them how they could get more information about the Church.

One of our fine stake presidents shared with us the following experience:
“I remember a girl that I had gone to high school with. She was from a good LDS family, but when she was a junior in high school, she began to compromise her standards and principles.
“I remember how stunned I was one afternoon as a group of us were in the back of the bus, riding home from school, and we were talking about the consequences of sin or transgression. And she flatly announced that she wasn’t worried about committing any sin because her bishop had told her she could easily repent and could be quickly forgiven.
“Well, I was shocked with this flippant attitude that didn’t reflect any understanding of repentance and no appreciation of the miracle of forgiveness. I was also sure that she had grossly misunderstood the instruction and counsel of her bishop.”
Adultery, or anything like unto it, is abominable in the sight of the Lord. President Kimball also wisely observed:
“Among the most common sexual sins our young people commit are necking and petting. Not only do these improper relations often lead to fornication, pregnancy, and abortion—all ugly sins—but in and of themselves they are pernicious evils, and it is often difficult for youth to distinguish where one ends and another begins. …
“Too often, young people dismiss their petting with a shrug of their shoulders as a little indiscretion, while admitting that fornication is a base transgression. Too many of them are shocked, or feign to be, when told that what they have done in the name of petting was in reality [a form of] fornication” (The Miracle of Forgiveness, pp. 65–66).

In June 1834 a young mother who was faced with being disinherited by her father wrote a bold and moving letter sharing her conviction of the Restoration. Although she must have known her prospects of changing his mind were dim, Rebecca Swain Williams nevertheless stood firm despite the impending consequences. She declared to her father, Isaac, that the Book of Mormon and the Church were true, just as the Prophet Joseph Smith described, and that she had heard the Three Witnesses “declare in public meeting that they saw a Holy Angel come down from heaven and [bring] the plates, and la[y] them before their eyes.”1
One of Rebecca’s most abiding hopes was that her family, her father in particular, would accept the restored gospel and receive the joyous blessings of the faith. She had, like Lehi, tasted of the love of God and wanted to share it with those closest to her (see 1 Nephi 8:12). With that in mind, Rebecca eagerly wrote to her family about her conversion and testimony and the great joy she felt as a member of the Church.
However, Rebecca’s conversion infuriated her father. In his terse response he demanded that she leave the Church. But Rebecca would not be swayed. She responded, as a family historian describes, that “she was more firm than ever in her conviction of the truth of Mormon doctrines” and included her own powerful testimony.6 To her sorrow this letter did not produce the results she had hoped for. Her father threatened to disown her and vowed to cut off all communication with her if she did not leave the Church.
Still, Rebecca did not yield and continued her efforts to share the gospel. In 1834 she wrote another letter—the only one to survive—to her father, revealing the depth of her faith and the pain she felt that he refused to accept anything of the Mormons.
Her father had read newspaper reports attacking the Church, particularly with regard to the Book of Mormon and the testimony of the Three Witnesses, and tried to dissuade Rebecca on these accounts.
“It gives me pain to hear that your mind is so much disturbed about the Book of Mormon,” she wrote. Quoting scripture from the Book of Mormon and from Joseph Smith’s new revelations, Rebecca shared her witness of the Book of Mormon. She also explained that the book prophesied of the selection of three witnesses to it. As evidence, she quoted the ancient prophet Ether, who said that “in the mouth of three witnesses” would the truth of the book “be established” (Ether 5:4).7
Rebecca then described how she had personally seen the Three Witnesses—David Whitmer, Martin Harris, and Oliver Cowdery—and heard them testify of having seen an angel and the gold plates. After defending their testimonies and character, she urged her father to further investigate the work. For, she wrote to her father, should “you and mother know the circumstances as we do in relation to this work, I am persuaded you would believe it.”8
Echoing Moroni’s promise at the end of the Book of Mormon, Rebecca pled that her family would ask God if “he would enlighten [their] minds in the way of truth.” And then she planned to send a missionary “capable of teaching the Gospel as it is in Jesus,” to further help them.9 In the end her father would have nothing to do with it.
Even her letters to her brother John—to whom Rebecca was particularly close—were returned unopened. On the back of one of the returned letters, John wrote, “Father forbids me read your letter, or to write to you. Goodbye and God bless you always. Your brother, John.”10
No matter the heartache and pain Rebecca felt from her father’s choices, she still loved him. She wrote: “My heart mourns for my relations according to the flesh. … I pray the Lord to comfort you in your last day with his Holy Spirit and may they be your best days. … I hope your mind will be composed concerning this work. Be assured that we feel firm in the cause knowing that the Lord is at the helm.”11

I was born into a poor family, and early in my life I had to work. This has been a great blessing to me. When I was twelve years old, I had to go to evening school because I worked ten hours during the day. Many times on the way to school I would sleep on the bus or train. Sometimes I would even fall asleep during class. However, upon arriving home late at night, I would always find my loving parents waiting for me.

At that time all I wanted in life was to become a successful man, which to me meant having many material possessions, comfort, and a life of ease. With this as a goal, I went on working and studying.

After I was baptized into the Church, I came to understand the true meaning of success. Being successful means to be a servant of God, serving our fellowmen, being truly committed to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and keeping the commandments of God.

I was the age of most of you when this scriptural episode came to have special meaning for me. I was in graduate school here at BYU, and I began asking out a particular girl. And, as things progressed, I became scared. Like Oliver Cowdery, fear caused me to “not continue as [I had] commenced.” I was afraid of making the wrong decision—one that I knew was important and, ideally, eternal. My poorly thought-out solution to this fear was to stop asking the girl out. As weeks turned into months, I buried myself in other things, all the while praying if I should pursue a relationship that I clearly wasn’t doing anything to nurture.

Finally, one Sunday I was at church here on campus when I made up my mind: I would ­pursue the relationship. What would be the worst that could happen? “Maybe I would get married,” I thought.

I called her apartment, only to learn that she had gone home that weekend. I left a message for her to call me when she returned, which, incidentally, is ideal for someone gripped by dating paralysis. The last thing a young man really wants to do is talk.

That afternoon my dad called. “Have you heard the news?” he asked. The girl was engaged.

She returned my call later that night. “Scott, I heard you called,” she said.

“Yes, I was just calling to congratulate you on your engagement,” was my response. Fear of the future had kept me from continuing what I had commenced, and the time had passed. During the next six years of my single life I thought often about that experience and the Lord’s instruction to Oliver Cowdery ­concerning fear.

We hear some these days who say that because of economic pressures they cannot afford to pay their tithing. I recall an experience I had as a stake president some years ago. A man whom I knew came to get his temple recommend signed. I questioned him in the usual way and asked, among other things, whether he was paying an honest tithing. He candidly replied that he was not, that he could not afford to because of his many debts. I felt impressed to tell him that he would not pay his debts until he paid his tithing.
He went along for a year or two in his normal way and then made a decision. He talked about it some time later and said: “What you told me has proved to be true. I felt I could not pay my tithing because of my debts. I discovered that no matter how hard I tried, somehow I could not manage to reduce my debt. Finally my wife and I sat down together and talked about it and concluded we would try the promise of the Lord. We have done so. And somehow in a way we can’t quite understand, the Lord has blessed us. We have not missed that which we have given to him, and for the first time in many years we are reducing our debt. We have come to the wisdom of budgeting our expenditures and of determining where our funds have been going. Because we now have a higher objective, we are able to curtail some of our appetites and desires. And above all of this, we feel we can now go to the house of the Lord with those deserving of this wonderful blessing.”

Illustrated by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
Ever since he was a boy, Wilford Woodruff wanted to know which church was true. When he was 26 years old, he still had not joined any church. He lived with his brother Azmon on his farm.
Wilford: Heavenly Father, help me to know how to live my life.
On December 29, 1833, two Mormon missionaries stopped at Azmon’s house. He and Wilford were both away working, but Azmon’s wife was home.
Missionary: God has restored His Church upon the earth, and we would like to tell you more about it.
Azmon’s wife: My husband and brother-in-law are not home right now, but we would definitely be interested in hearing more.
The missionaries rented the local schoolhouse that afternoon. They passed out notices inviting anybody who wanted to learn more about the gospel to come to a meeting that evening.
When Wilford got home from working, his sister-in-law told him about the meeting. He immediately turned his horses around and started to the schoolhouse, praying the whole way to know whether or not the missionaries were true followers of Christ.
Azmon’s wife: But, Wilford, what about supper?
Wilford: These men could be the answer to my prayers! I must go.
Wilford arrived at the schoolhouse, which was packed with people. His brother Azmon was already there. Wilford couldn’t find an empty chair, so he sat on one of the writing desks where he could see and hear everything.
Missionary: I bear strong testimony of the divine authenticity of the Book of Mormon. I also know that Joseph Smith is a prophet who has come to fulfill a great mission here on earth.
Wilford: I can feel the Spirit telling me that these are men of God.
After the missionaries were finished speaking, they asked members of the congregation if they would like to stand and say anything. Immediately, Wilford stood up and told everyone that he knew the missionaries were speaking the truth.
Wilford: The Lord urges me to bear testimony of the truth of this message. Do not oppose these men, for they are true servants of God. They have preached to us the pure gospel of Jesus Christ.
Two days later Wilford and his brother Azmon were baptized.

In February 1993 Lamjav Purevsuren became the first native Mongolian baptized in the country. Purevsuren grew up in western Mongolia in a round, felt-lined tent called a ger. His family’s major challenge was providing for their animals during Mongolia’s harsh winters, when temperatures regularly fall as low as 40 degrees below zero Fahrenheit. Several times during the year, the family would dismantle their ger and move elsewhere to find new grazing pastures.
Purevsuren met Elder Stanley Smith when he took Elder Smith’s marketing class at the Mongolian National University. “My classmate Tsendkhuu Bat-Ulzii and I were curious why this American professional would come to Mongolia,” Purevsuren recalls.
“Elder Smith told us about his church and invited us to attend, but he gave us an apartment address. We were very surprised!”
Purevsuren and Bat-Ulzii attended the small service with the missionary couples and agreed to hear the discussions. Both men joined the Church, and Bat-Ulzii was eventually called as president of the Ulaanbaatar Tuul Branch. Total membership in the nation now exceeds 550, with three branches in Ulaanbaatar, one branch in Erdenet, a city of 44,000 located northwest of the capital, and one branch in Darkhan, a city of 65,000 located north of Ulaanbaatar.

In the early days of her gymnastics training, Angel decided she would honor the Sabbath day by not practicing, training, or competing on Sundays. In gymnastics, such a commitment is considered at least unconventional if not downright crazy. Many important competitions are scheduled on Sundays, and gymnasts rarely take a day off from training—they’re afraid they’ll lose their edge.
Angel’s parents were proud of her decision to honor the Sabbath day. However, many others in Angel’s life were not so thrilled, particularly her teammates and coaches. They didn’t understand why she would forego important parts of her gymnastics career just to go to church. “You have your whole life to go to church,” they’d say, “but you only have a few years for gymnastics.”
“I often felt persecuted for righteousness’ sake,” Angel says (see Matthew 5:10). People ridiculed her and laughed at her. Her friends talked about her behind her back. Coaches refused to spend as much time training her as they did other athletes. She even changed from a prominent to a less-recognized club at one point to alleviate pressure about practicing and competing on Sundays.
The blessings of keeping the Sabbath day holy certainly weren’t obvious right away, and sometimes it was a struggle for Angel to keep her commitment. “It was heartbreaking for me to see my friends bring their medals and team uniforms to the gym and know that I could have had a chance for those things too,” she says. “I missed many opportunities that would have helped me gain national team status. I even missed a trial to go to the Canada Winter Games, which is like a mini version of the Olympics.”
Yet, over time Angel has learned to recognize the many ways keeping the Sabbath day holy has benefitted her. For example, because she was active in Church both on Sundays and for weekday Young Women and Mutual activities, she developed friendships she wouldn’t have had otherwise.
“Most of my good friends are from church and my leaders have been wonderfully supportive,” she says. “Young Women was a safe haven for me. It strengthened me spiritually and I look forward to the time I spend with my ward family every week.” Angel has served as Laurel class president, received her Young Women Recognition and Honor Bee, and attended early morning seminary.
As she observes the Sabbath day, Angel also noticed that her physical body benefitted by having a day of rest. Her athletic abilities weren’t diminished by the day off. In fact, during high school, even though she trained one day less than her teammates, she remained as strong in the sport as others.
From the beginning of her gymnastics training, Angel’s dream has been to represent Canada in the Olympics. Even though she didn’t compete on Sundays, she was still able to achieve success in other important competitions held on different days. She was named the Canadian champion on floor exercises and the western Canadian all-around champion. And even though a knee injury eliminated her chance of trying out for the Canadian team for the Rio 2016 Games in Brazil, she still has her sights set on the 2020 games in Tokyo.
Angel also noticed that as she kept the Sabbath day holy, she was able to get more done during the week. For example, many of her teammates struggled to keep up their grades. Angel not only earned straight A’s with a perfect 4.0 GPA, but she also advanced her studies by taking online courses during the summertime. It was those online studies and her stellar GPA that helped Angel achieve one of her other goals—to earn a gymnastics scholarship to Brigham Young University. And she did so a year earlier than planned! At BYU she plans to major in neuroscience with a minor in family studies. Eventually she plans to go to medical school to become a neurosurgeon.
“I’m proud of my identity as a Latter-day Saint,” Angel says. “The Church has blessed my life in every way possible. It has given me the strength, courage, and faith to accomplish my life’s journey but to still have balance in my life.”
She beams when she says, “On days when I feel like giving up, I turn to my Savior. He never fails to comfort me. He always carries me through my trials. Knowing that He and Heavenly Father want me to succeed has given me the inclination and desire to accomplish difficult goals in my life.”
It’s also allowed her to share the example of a balanced life with her three younger sisters. They’re all gymnasts, too. And all of them know that when you keep the Sabbath day holy, there are blessings all around.

Tandy loved to frisk and frolic. Then he would wag his tail with happiness. But for over a week now he had hardly wagged his tail at all. Something was different in the Phillips’ house where he lived. Everyone was too busy to play with him.
One of the things Tandy liked to do best was to roll over on his back, put his feet in the air, and play dead. Before all the busyness, his playing dead trick always brought him a playful tickle on his tummy or a soft tug on his ear from Paul. Sometimes, Paul’s younger sister, Wendy, or Mother or Daddy would stop and play Tandy’s make-believe game with him. When they tussled him “awake,” Tandy would open his eyes, jump up on his four feet, and dance around the room, fanning the air with his tail.
But since Daddy had brought a tree into the house and the family had covered it with shiny balls and bright lights, no one had time to play with Tandy. The little dog was curious about the tree and sniffed at it suspiciously, wondering what it was all about.
Lately, right after supper, Mother would go to the back bedroom and close the door. Soon Tandy could hear the humming of a sewing machine. When Daddy excused himself from the table, instead of going into the living room to relax and read the newspaper, he went out to the garage and shut the door. It wasn’t long until Tandy could hear a tap-tap-tap of a hammer and the whirrrrrr of an electric drill.
And as quickly as Paul and Wendy finished washing the dishes, they disappeared into their own rooms. When Tandy pattered up to their doors, they were closed, and he could hear that they were busy.
One day Paul didn’t shut his bedroom door tightly, and Tandy trotted in. Next to playing dead, Tandy liked best going into the closet and getting hold of Paul’s old leather slipper to chew on. But the closet door was closed. Of course Tandy had Roscoe, a rubber frog, to play with, but it wasn’t nearly as much fun as the slipper.
Although Tandy was given food and water every day, no one stopped to play with him. That’s why his tail had stopped wagging—he, was lonely and unhappy.
One night after supper Tandy could feel a kind of excitement in the air. Soon he saw Mother and Daddy and Paul and Wendy putting packages under the tree. When the doorbell rang, Paul ran to open it. “Hi! Grandpa,” he called, “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you,” said Grandpa, bending down to give Paul a squeeze. When the doorbell rang again, Wendy answered it. In came aunts and uncles and little cousins. Everyone was smiling and saying, “Merry Christmas!” to each other. When they came over to put their packages by the tree, Tandy had to run behind the couch to get out of the way of all the feet.
Then Paul and Wendy’s mother played the piano and everyone sang happy carols. Tandy came out from behind the couch to sit by Paul and listen. And when Paul rubbed his ears, Tandy’s tail started to wiggle just a little bit.
Tandy felt his loneliness slipping away. He scampered through the bedrooms, happy that the closet doors were open. But when he rooted around for his favorite slipper, it was gone.
Trotting back into the living room, Tandy saw that the tree made the only light in the room. Daddy was calling out names and everybody was smiling as packages were handed to them. When Daddy said, “Here’s one for Tandy,” the little dog’s ears pricked up. He tugged at the wrapping until something fell right between his paws. Tandy’s tail began to wiggle when he found Paul’s old slipper inside!
Tandy was content just chewing on the slipper, but when Paul called, “Here Tandy, play dead for the cousins,” he quickly dropped it and did his trick. And when it was finished, Tandy jumped up and frisked about, his tail wagging so fast it was only a blur.

My bishop helped me in the repentance process itself, but a friend of mine also made a big difference in how I felt about my challenge. He was a great example to me. One day he shared his past struggles with pornography. I was stunned—I never would have guessed we had similar struggles. I wrote him a letter about my experience in repenting for the same challenges and how helpful it was to know that I was not alone. At church on Sunday, he hugged me and told me he was proud of me for working with the bishop and that I would never be alone. He helped me feel the Savior’s love more strongly.

As a new bishop many years ago, I noticed a faithful sister who always attended church without her husband, John. I learned that he had previously been a branch president during the time their meetinghouse was being built. He received so little help from branch members that he burned himself out doing most of the work and became less active.
When ward members came to their home, he would light up his cigarette and set his beer can by his chair as if to say, “You won’t get me to come back.”
Eventually, I learned that John was an appliance repair man. Older members in the ward often called me to fix things. Now that I knew of John’s skills, I would call John and ask for advice on repairs.
I continued this for maybe a year. At that time, we needed to call a ward clerk. After prayerful consideration, I felt impressed to extend the call to John.
I told the stake president and he said, “We can’t call him now! He smokes and has his beer.” I asked the stake president to call him in for an interview anyway. John came to the interview but emphatically answered, “No, I am not worthy.”
Things continued as before—John remained less active, and I called him for advice. During this time, I didn’t say anything to him about coming back to church. I asked the stake president to interview him a second time. Again, John said no, but this time he added, “I will tell you when I’m ready.”
After this I still called John for advice and fellowshipped him the best I could.
One day I answered the phone and heard, “Is this the ol’ Bishop?” He had started calling me by that title. “This is John. I’m ready.” He was then called and served as our ward clerk.
As the years passed, John served in a number of callings. He and his wife served a mission together, and now they serve in the temple. At my 50th wedding anniversary party, John wrote a note that said, “Bishop, thank you for saving my life.”
I can’t put in words the joy I feel knowing that John returned to church in part because I was patient and asked him for help when I needed it.

“I have seen the Lord’s hand countless times in my life, but my biggest testimony comes from a trial I have endured for 10 years.
“I became pregnant with my second daughter but miscarried at seven weeks. I remember crying and pleading with the Lord but thought, ‘Surely our Savior has a greater plan for this baby than what I need right now.’ The following year I became pregnant and then miscarried again. I asked, ‘God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ (Matthew 27:46).
“Eventually, we miraculously got pregnant and had a healthy baby girl.
“But this was not the end of this trial. Unfortunately, we ended up having four more consecutive miscarriages.
“After moving to a new area and getting a new provider, I was diagnosed with a blood-clotting disorder. With this information, my doctor and I made a plan. I went on to have two perfectly healthy children!
“The Lord’s timing is perfect. This lesson has been the hardest one I’ve ever had to learn. He prepares the way for you and puts people and experiences in your life to strengthen you.”

“She’s like my mom,” says Ricardo of his grandmother. “She has been raising me since I was young.” Ricardo lives with his grandmother and grandfather and four of his uncles. “My grandfather suffers from Parkinson’s disease, so I do things like help him get in his chair,” Ricardo says. Ricardo is constantly trying to teach his family by example. “I try to be an example when I go to church because when I’m on the right path, my family is watching me, and I want them to come to church too.”
Even though Ricardo and his grandmother are the only active members of the Church in their house, he says, “We all have family home evening together.”
Standing up front and teaching the lesson each Monday is young Ricardo. “I use the Book of Mormon and the Bible for family home evening lessons,” he says. “I read the story and then testify. Sometimes I use the lesson manual for deacons.”
Ricardo also testifies to his friends and neighbors. “In my neighborhood I tell my friends stories about Christ, about prophets, about Nephi,” he says. “I tell them stories I’ve heard in church about faith and about how prayer helps us in our lives. Some friends stay and listen, but others leave. That’s a way I can be an example.”
No longer does Ricardo walk to church alone. Now every Sunday he puts on his shirt and tie, takes his grandmother by the hand, and they walk together. Who knows? In time, Ricardo will probably be leading others to church with him.

As I grew older, the world was changing. There was a war, and as a result, the number of missionaries each ward could send was limited. I didn’t think that I could go on a mission at age 19 even though I had always wanted to.
Then one day my mother said to me, “The bishop wants to see you this afternoon.”
When I arrived at the bishop’s office, he said, “David, our ward has been given the blessing of being able to send one more missionary. The bishopric has been praying about who should go, and I want you to know that now is the time that the Lord would have you serve your mission.”
I was stunned. I had no idea that’s what we were going to be talking about. I had always known that President David O. McKay wanted me to serve a mission, that my mom wanted me to serve, and that I wanted to serve. But no one had ever said to me, “The Lord wants you to do something now.”
I asked the bishop if I could think about it for a week. Then I got in my car and drove around for an hour before ending up back at the church. I went to the bishop’s office and knocked on the door. When I opened it, he was still sitting there. Nothing was on his desk. He didn’t seem to be doing anything. “Bishop, what are you still doing here?” I asked.
He said, “I’m waiting for you.”
I told him, “Bishop, if the Lord wants me to go, then I will go.”
I’m grateful I did. Children, do what the Lord asks you to do when He asks you to do it. If the bishop asks you to do something, obey. If your Primary teacher asks you to do something, say yes. The Lord will bless you, even as you face challenges.

Other couples are doing the same. Bishop Chan Yue Sang and his wife, Kit Fong, have four children and are deeply grateful for the gospel and the difference it has made in their lives.

Seventeen years ago, Bishop Chan, then a twenty-four-year-old police constable, first heard about the gospel when he attended English classes taught by LDS missionaries.

“The gospel was beautiful to me,” he remembers. “At the time, I didn’t even believe in a God. But when they taught of being with your family forever, I thought I would give up anything in order to have that.”

His life changed a lot after his baptism. Within six months he had received a promotion at work. He also spent time that summer working with the full-time missionaries and teaching the gospel to others. One of the investigators he taught wrote him a letter two years later, asking for a contribution to the chapel they were building in her ward. He sent some money, renewed his acquaintance with her, and married her a year later.

“The biggest reward the gospel has given me is my family,” Bishop Chan says.

One of Bishop Chan’s goals is to share that reward with others. Last year, he invited the missionaries to a monthly police training meeting to give a family-focused presentation. The training included instruction on family education, welfare services, family council meetings, and one-on-one interviews with children. The family home evening program was also introduced. As a result, one of Bishop Chan’s colleagues joined the Church, and others have shown interest.

In Portugal, in the city of Funchal, on the Madeira Island, lived a lady named Ascenção Frango, who had been a nun for twenty years. She ran a home for poor children and orphans. Early in her life as a nun, she learned that she had cancer in her throat. Having a strong feeling that she had not finished her work on earth, she prayed with great faith and was healed. When her church decided to close the children’s home, she used her own money to keep it going for four years—until the children living there were either adopted or old enough to be on their own.
When she heard of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, she and a friend attended out of curiosity. The meeting was held on the dirt floor of a Church member’s garage. But the Spirit she felt there impressed her, and the elders began teaching her the discussions. She read the Book of Mormon, gained a strong testimony of its divinity, and soon asked to be baptized. A year later she obtained her temple recommend and could hardly wait to enter the Swiss Temple to make sacred covenants with Heavenly Father.