Gospel Story Finder

Some years ago my husband and I were the focus of a ward council, and we knew it. I returned to activation after our first child was born, but my husband did not. For years, stake presidencies, bishoprics, and home teachers tried to help us.
Then we moved into a new ward. A patient and loving bishop and a home teacher became my husband’s friends. This time my husband was receptive to the Spirit. He was prompted to read the Book of Mormon, and he started going to church. Slowly he regained a testimony. I will never forget the beautiful day our family was sealed in the temple.

When the pandemic hit in 2020, I was one of the first people infected with COVID-19 in my area in Scotland. At first I thought it was a simple cold. But as time went on, my health progressively got worse, until even breathing was a struggle. My throat and sinuses were badly damaged, and I suffered from chronic fatigue.
Recovery was ongoing for over a year and a half, during which time I was unable to participate in any sport or physical activity. I had to put everything on pause. I even dropped out of university for a year, and I became very bitter—bitter about my circumstances and angry at Heavenly Father when recovery seemed unattainable.
Despite my mindset, I continued living the gospel. I continued going to church and doing what I could to help and serve others. Gradually, my state of mind started improving.
When the worst of the symptoms started dissipating, I got an unexpected call to serve on my stake high council. Despite my apprehension, I accepted the call with the hope that the Lord would provide a way for me to fulfil the call despite my poor health (see 1 Nephi 3:7).
One of the first assignments I received was to speak about the Saviour and His Atonement. With every talk I gave to other followers of Jesus Christ, my understanding of Him and what He did for me grew. I realised I’d been ignoring a vital part of His Atonement—the Lord suffered and died not only for our sins but for our afflictions. He knows how to uplift us in our trials (see Alma 7:12).
President Camille N. Johnson, Relief Society General President, recently taught:
“Jesus Christ can lighten our load.
“Jesus Christ can lift our burdens.
“Jesus Christ provides a way for us to be relieved of the weight of sin.
“Jesus Christ is our relief. ...
“… I can’t go at it alone, and I don’t need to, and I won’t. Choosing to be bound to my Savior, Jesus Christ, through the covenants I have made with God, ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me’ [Philippians 4:13].”1
I’m also prone to relying upon my own strength, and in my pride I really had thought I could overcome my trial alone. But I came to realise that I wasn’t failing because the trial was too hard; it was because I wasn’t allowing Jesus Christ to offer me His strength and support.
Finally understanding what He offers me through His healing power changed everything. Although my road to recovery wasn’t going to be easy or quick, I could find peace, joy, and strength along the way by turning to Him.
We don’t have to face any trials alone. We can rely upon our Saviour for strength. I realised that the spiritual hardship I felt during my sickness came from my lack of understanding in my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and what strength They could provide me with as I continued to serve, seek, and follow Them.
President Dallin H. Oaks, First Counselor in the First Presidency, gave a powerful reminder of our relationship with the Saviour when he said: “He … knows our struggles, our heartaches, our temptations, and our suffering, for He willingly experienced them all as an essential part of His Atonement. And because of this, His Atonement empowers Him to succor us—to give us the strength to bear it all.”2
Fortunately, the Lord pushed me to be more active in the pursuit of understanding Him. And as I’ve come to understand Him better, I’ve been able to see His hand in my life in greater abundance and see miracles of healing, even if it has taken longer than anticipated. As President Johnson also taught, “Covenant keepers are blessed with the Savior’s relief.”3
Increasing my understanding of the Saviour and keeping my covenants has been a huge blessing in my life. He has given me so much spiritual and temporal relief from my hardships. I can promise that as you strive to do the same, the love of the Lord and your divine purpose will become clear. You’ll find strength beyond your own—as I have.

In my case the Book of Mormon became the keystone of my testimony over a period of years and through a number of experiences. One powerful experience in forming my testimony occurred while I was a young missionary serving in my first area: Kumamoto, Japan. My companion and I were house-to-house proselyting. I met a grandmother who kindly invited us into the entry of her home, which is called a genkan in Japanese. She offered us a cold drink on a hot day. I had not been in Japan very long, and I had recently completed reading the Book of Mormon and had been praying to know with certainty that it was true.
Because of my newness to Japan, I didn’t speak Japanese very well. In fact, I don’t think this woman understood much of what I was saying. I began teaching her about the Book of Mormon, describing how Joseph Smith received from an angel an ancient record engraved on plates and how he translated them by the power of God.
As I offered her my testimony that the Book of Mormon is the word of God and another testament of Jesus Christ, I received the strongest impression, accompanied by a warm feeling of comfort and serenity inside my chest, which the scriptures describe as “your bosom [burning] within you.”4 This feeling reaffirmed to me in a powerful way that the Book of Mormon truly is the word of God. At that time my feelings were so strong that tears came to my eyes as I talked to this Japanese grandmother. I have never forgotten the special feeling of that day.

It had just started to rain when seven-year-old Angela stepped into the tent. Her two older brothers, Michael and Mark, were already inside. Mom and Dad had their own tent set up not far away.
“Let’s say our prayers before we get into our sleeping bags,” Michael said.
The three children knelt in prayer. Angela thanked Heavenly Father for her many blessings, and she asked Him to keep them safe from the storm and to help them sleep well.
After her prayer, she slid into her sleeping bag. For a long time all was quiet except for the plomp, plomp, plomp of the rain against the roof of their tent. Then she heard Michael’s voice. “Hey, Angela, wasn’t Mount Rushmore cool?”
“Yes,” she answered with a yawn.
“So were the animals in the park,” said Mark.
“I liked them, too,” Angela agreed. She pictured the buffalo calves grazing so close to the road that she could see their eyes watching the slow-moving cars.
Flash! Boooooom!
Angela squeezed her eyes tight. “Go to sleep,” she told herself. “It’s just thunder.” It had rained almost every day that her family had been on vacation. Every time it rained, lightning shot across the sky like hot arrows, and thunder echoed on and on like beating drums.
Flash! Boooooom!
Angela pulled the sleeping bag over her head. “Go to sleep,” she told herself again.
“Mark, are you awake?” Michael whispered into the darkness.
“Hmmm?” Mark’s voice was heavy with sleep.
“Are you awake?”
Flash!
Mark opened his eyes. “I am now,” he said.
Boooom!
“Angela, are you awake?” Michael asked.
“Yes,” Angela whimpered. “I’m scared. I want to go to Mom and Dad’s tent.”
“It’s raining too hard,” Michael said. “You’ll get soaking wet. Besides, it’s not safe to go out in the lightning.”
Angela frowned. “But I’m really scared.”
Flash! Flash!
“You don’t need to be scared,” Mark said. “The lightning is really cool! It’s just a bunch of static electricity in the clouds.”
Boooom!
“And the thunder sounds like a big whip!” he added.
Angela shuddered. “I don’t like it!”
Flash! Boooom!
“Well, then think of things that make you happy,” Mark suggested. “That might help.”
Angela closed her eyes and thought about a field of yellow flowers. She imagined herself running down a hill into the field, laughing.
Flash! Boom! Flash! Flash! Booooom!
“It’s not working,” Angela said, shaking. “I’m still scared.”
Suddenly, rain began pelting their tent. Angela scrunched deep within her sleeping bag. What could she do to stop feeling scared? Then a quiet thought entered her mind. “Why don’t we sing?” she shouted, hoping her brothers could hear her above the noise. “My Primary teacher said that singing Primary songs can help us feel better.”
“OK,” Mark said loudly. “What should we sing?”
“How about ‘I Am a Child of God’?” Michael suggested.
Slowly, quietly, Angela started to sing.
“I am a child of God,
And he has sent me here …”
Angela stopped. Her brothers weren’t singing with her. “They must not be able to hear me,” she thought. So she sang louder.
“Has given me an earthly home
With parents kind and dear.”
Her brothers were singing now.
“Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday.”
(Children’s Songbook, 2–3.)
Flash! Boom!
“Now what should we sing?” Angela asked.
“Let’s sing that one again,” Michael said.
Over and over, Angela, Michael, and Mark sang “I Am a Child of God” until the storm passed and peace returned to their tent.
“It worked!” Angela told herself as she snuggled into the warmth of her sleeping bag. “Finally I can go to sleep.” As she closed her eyes, another thought gently filled her mind. “I am a child of God, and I know He will help me find the way.”

Now the third story, if I might skip another four years. At age sixteen, I began trying to decide what kind of career I would pursue. Two of my friends had fathers who were university professors—one of them, a physicist. I thought maybe I wanted to become a physicist or a research bacteriologist.

I was active in music, but I didn’t want to become a musician because I had noticed that very few musicians made much money. However, after prayerfully investigating a number of professions, I came to a conviction within my heart—a burning within my bosom that—after all, I was to make my contribution to the world as a musician.

When I had made that decision, I told my father and my mother. My father, who was a businessman, had little sympathy for music as a career. But when I told him I wanted to go into music, he said, “All right, son, but don’t be a second-rater.”

Those words have rung in my ears many times since then, and they have encouraged me to try to go one step higher in my creative endeavors.

Several years later, I enrolled at a college near my home that had a good music school, My first year, I entered a music composition contest and won first prize. Part of the award was that my composition would be played by the the Stockton California Symphony Orchestra. Unfortunately, however, my composition was written for a larger orchestra than the Stockton Symphony Orchestra.

I wanted so badly for my composition to be performed that I transferred to a university that had a large symphony orchestra with over 100 pieces. The first day after I had arrived there, I went to the office of the director of the symphony orchestra and asked him if the college symphony orchestra would play my piece. He said, “Leave it here; I’m busy right now, but come back next week.”

When I returned the following week, he said, “Well, it isn’t too bad. We rehearse on Monday nights. Next Monday I will let the orchestra play through it.”

Then he asked me an unexpected question: “Would you like to conduct it?” Now, if he had said, “Can you conduct it?” I would have had to answer differently, but he said, “Would you like to conduct it?” Well, who wouldn’t like to conduct a 100-piece orchestra playing his own piece?

I went home and the whole next week I checked the orchestral parts over to make sure they would really sound right. I had imagined my piece, but I had never heard it played.

All day Monday I fidgeted through my classes. I couldn’t eat my lunch. That night I sat in the front row of the auditorium and waited while the symphony orchestra rehearsed.

Finally the conductor turned around and said, “Do you have your music with you? Well, pass it out.” He introduced me to the orchestra and said, “I’m going to let him conduct.”

I waved the baton very shakily, and the music stumbled along. Players don’t like to play from handwritten music manuscript, and my manuscript was horrible. The orchestra droned and grunted along. It was a frightful experience.

Then something happened. Suddenly everything seemed to work well during the last few minutes of the piece. Instead of saying, or looking like, “How can we bear this?” the orchestra players seemed to be saying, “Not bad! Not bad!”

During the last few moments I felt as if I was raised about a meter or two off the podium—I conducted sort of instinctively, feeling that “This is why I’m alive! This is my contribution to the world!” I felt that “men are that they might have joy” was no longer just a statement in the Book of Mormon (2 Ne. 2:25), but a reality for me at that very moment.

At the end they started to applaud, and the conductor came running down the aisle, saying, “Well, the first part was quite terrible but the last part wasn’t so bad!”

On the way home that night I kept hearing that wonderful big sound of the ending, and I forgot the terror of the first part. I thought, this is how the Lord must have felt when he said that “it was good,” (See Gen. 1:4.) What a remarkable understatement the Lord made about his own work. And one reason God exists is to have joy, and what does he have joy in? In the creative act—in the act of creating a galaxy or in creating a human soul.

International students from Weber State College in Ogden, Utah, spent an evening with the Young Men and Young Women of the North Ogden Third Ward fixing dishes from their native countries using everything from dried mushrooms to seaweed.
The students came from Japan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Mexico, and Nigeria. It was an opportunity for the ward’s youth to get a firsthand look into some of the world’s cultures. And the international students, in turn, had the opportunity to rub shoulders with some typically American kids.
The language barrier caused some amusing moments at first, but by the end of the evening friendship overcame any language inadequacy. The fact that there was very little food left over was proof of the success of the event, and both groups left feeling like they knew the other a little better.

A few years ago, my family didn’t go to church. Then one day, my friend Cory asked me if I wanted to go to church with him.
I went for a couple of weeks and then asked my mom to go, too. Pretty soon, Mom was called to work in the Primary.
After church, we told my dad about what we learned. My little brother, Kasey, reminded my dad of the Word of Wisdom.
I kept asking my dad to go to church with us. Then one day, he surprised me by saying, “I’m going to go to church.”
Now we are sealed in the temple.

President Heber J. Grant tells of a different type of reward that comes from trusting in the Lord. When he was a young man, he heard his bishop in a fast meeting, which was then held on Thursdays (in the early days, we held our fast meetings on Thursdays), make a strong appeal for donations. At that time President Grant had $50 in his pocket which he intended to deposit in the bank. But he was so impressed by his bishop’s appeal that he tendered the whole $50 to the bishop. The bishop took $5 and handed him back $45, stating that $5 was his full share. Then President Grant replied, “Bishop Wooley, by what right do you rob me of putting the Lord in my debt? Didn’t you preach here today that the Lord rewards fourfold? My mother is a widow and she needs two hundred dollars.”

“My boy,” queried the bishop, “do you believe that if I take this other forty-five dollars you will get your two hundred dollars quicker?”

“Certainly,” replied President Grant.

Now here was an expression of trust in the Lord which the bishop could not withstand. He took the remaining $45.

President Grant testified that on his way back to work, “an idea popped” into his head, acting upon which he made $218.50. Speaking on this incident years later, he said, “Someone will say that it would have happened anyway.

“I do not think it would have happened. I do not think I would have got the idea.

“I am a firm believer that the Lord opens up the windows of heaven when we do our duty financially and pours out blessings upon us of a spiritual nature, which are of far greater value than temporal things. But I believe He also gives us blessings of a temporal nature.” (Improvement Era 42:457.)

[The boat captain sits near the boat. The narrator enters.]
Narrator: In the spring of 1831, groups of Church members traveled by boat from New York to Ohio. Lucy Mack Smith, the mother of the prophet Joseph Smith, led one of the groups.
[Lucy Mack Smith leads the Church members onstage.]
Lucy Mack Smith: Brothers and sisters, we have set out just as Father Lehi did to travel to a land that the Lord will show unto us if we are faithful. I want you all to lift your hearts to God in prayer continually that we may be prospered.
[They all get on the boat with the captain.]
Narrator: Lucy’s group traveled safely on the Erie Canal. But when they got to Lake Erie, the harbor was frozen!
[Sheets of “ice” block the boat.]
Captain (pointing to the ice): When will this ice melt? We can’t sail until it has melted.
Church member 1: We’ll never make it to Ohio!
[The townspeople enter and see the Church members.]
Church member 2: Look! Maybe those people can help us find a place to stay until the ice melts.
Townsperson 1: Good day. Who are all of you?
Church member 1 (speaking quietly, to Lucy Mack Smith): Don’t tell them who we are. Some people treat us badly because of our beliefs.
Lucy Mack Smith: I am Lucy Mack Smith, and we are members of the true Church of Jesus Christ restored to the earth.
Townsperson 2 (calling from below the boat): I have a question for you. Is the Book of Mormon true?
Lucy Mack Smith: That book was brought forth by the power of God and translated by the same power. It is true!
[Lucy Mack Smith continues talking silently and gesturing to the townspeople.]
Church member 1: Will we ever have a comfortable home again?
Church member 2: Not if we’re stuck here on this frozen harbor.
Lucy Mack Smith: Friends, let us trust God. He will provide.
Lucy Mack Smith (turning to the Saints on the boat): Brothers and sisters, if you will all raise your desires to heaven that the ice will let us through, as sure as the Lord lives it shall be done.
[Lucy Mack Smith and the Church members pray together.]
Narrator: Just then a noise like thunder was heard.
[Kids playing the part of the ice stamp their feet loudly and pull the two “sheets” of ice offstage.]
Church member 1: Look! The ice is breaking!
Captain: Everyone to your post. Let’s get this boat moving!
Lucy Mack Smith: Soon we’ll be with the Saints in Ohio!
[The Saints cheer, and the boat starts moving forward.]
Narrator: After the boat sailed through, the ice closed again, and other boats had to wait. But Lucy and her boat sailed across Lake Erie and reached Ohio safely a few days later.

I have always learned in Primary and at home that we should be honest. We should not keep what does not belong to us. We should return change when we receive too much at a store, and we should always tell the truth, even though we may be punished.
When I was nine, I was waiting at the school for my mother when I saw a wallet on a bench. The wallet had money in it.
I thought about what I should do. My mother works very hard to care for my two sisters and me, but things weren’t going very well at home. I thought about what I could buy.
Then I started to worry about the person who had lost the wallet. I sat down and waited, knowing that she would come to look for it. After a while, a very upset woman came by. She asked me if I had found a wallet.
I answered, “Is this it?”
Her joy was so great that she hugged me. She thanked me again and again.
At the time, I did not even think about why I had decided to be honest. But when I told my mother about it later, she said that the Holy Ghost had whispered to me and that I had listened to the still, small voice.
I am grateful for having learned to be honest.
Rudinei Antonio Fernandes Filho, age 11São Paulo, Brazil

Once I received 5 cents in behalf of the Church from the poor, eight-year-old Navajo girl whom I baptized in 1954. After her confirmation, she approached me with her little fist clenched tightly around that 5 cents. Then she held it out to me and said, “Here is my tithing, elder. It is a full tithing.”
That little Navajo girl had paid as much tithing as the wealthiest member of the Church ever paid—a full tithe.

Jonathan is a friend of mine who joined the Church four years ago. He is the only member of the Church in his family. After he received the Aaronic Priesthood, he began serving others as he had never served before. Jonathan knew that to serve, he needed to learn a lot. He also wanted to be worthy and more dependable, so he studied the gospel, prayed, and attended his Sunday meetings and seminary. He worked hard to keep the commandments and Church standards. He diligently fulfilled his priesthood duties, including being a great home teacher. His Duty to God book helped him understand those duties and learn how to fulfill them.
Jonathan’s faithful priesthood service gave him spiritual strength. It helped protect him from evil influences. He grew tremendously as he served and prepared for his future. This past year, he worthily received the Melchizedek Priesthood and the temple endowment. He is now serving a mission in Brazil.

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

“As I was growing up in Provo, there was another boy my age in my grade at school. His name was Walt Hansen. He and I were great friends; there was a great bond between us. His family did not attend Church, but Walt came because of the influence of his friends who reached out to him. Years later he became a bishop in the Provo Sunset Ward, and I’ve often heard people say that Walt Hansen was the most kind and helpful bishop that they had ever known. I hope that you children will realize that you may be a good influence in the lives of your friends and help someone else discover the gospel.

Members of the Pennsylvania Historical Society hushed as Thomas L. Kane rose to address them. Colonel Kane,7 son of a prominent judge, and member of a highly respected Pennsylvania family, read to them a formal paper about his experiences in the West among the Mormon refugees from Nauvoo. Eloquently he described the exodus from Nauvoo, the poverty and hard circumstances of the refugees, their ready response to the government’s call for a Mormon Battalion, and then told of their beginning efforts in Utah.
The address was so well received that Colonel Kane, at the prodding of a Mormon elder, published it as a “very handsomely gotten up” book of 84 pages titled The Mormons. The Kanes paid for the printing of two editions of 1,000 copies each, then mailed a volume to every United States senator, most of the congressmen, the President, government department heads, and other influential people.
Why his concern for the Saints? Colonel Kane became interested in Mormons four years earlier when he dropped in at a Mormon conference in Philadelphia. Afterwards he talked for hours with Elder Jesse C. Little about Mormonism. He then wrote letters to aid Elder Little in Washington, D.C., circles, and later rode west with the elder to visit the Mormon refugee camps. Near one, he happened to overhear a Saint in earnest private prayer. While listening, the Colonel shed tears. “I am satisfied your people are solemnly and terribly in earnest,” he told Elder Little.
In the camps Colonel Kane became deathly ill. Carefully nursed by Saints, he recovered, but not before witnessing much of the everyday life of Mormons. On his return east he stopped to see the near-ghost City of Nauvoo. At Albany, illness nearly killed him. Fearing death he instructed his father, a judge, to never suffer any evil to come upon the Saints from the federal government, if he had the power to do so. The Colonel survived, and then drew on his first-hand knowledge for his address to the historical society.
Colonel Kane’s published address, some critics said, seemed too sympathetic about the Mormons. With critics in mind he inserted a preface in The Mormons’ second edition to reinforce his conclusions:
“I have been annoyed by comments this hastily written discourse has elicited. Well meaning friends have even invited me to tone down its remarks in favor of the Mormons, for the purpose of securing them a readier acceptance. I can only make them more express. The Truth must take care of itself. I not only meant to deny that the Mormons in any wise fall below our standard of morals, but I would be distinctly understood to ascribe to those of their number with whom I associated in the West, a general correctness of deportment, and purity of character above the average of ordinary communities.”
During his lifetime Colonel Kane became the Church’s “Sentinel in the East.” He advised Church leaders on political matters in Washington, D.C. Once, on his own initiative, he traveled to Utah via Panama to serve as a mediator between the Mormons and the federal army sent against them by President James Buchanan. In 1873 he visited Utah again, this time with his wife. While they accompanied President Young on a long trip south through dozens of Mormon villages, Mrs. Kane wrote down her honest reactions in letters home and in her journal. In 1874 her father published a book based on her Utah writings, Twelve Mormon Homes, “with the design of commanding sympathy for Mormons, who are at this time threatened with hostile legislation by Congress.”8

As a missionary in France, Chris Ivie served in a small branch where no investigators had attended church in at least a year. Moreover, members couldn’t remember the last time someone had been baptized.
Elder Ivie and his companion prayed about what to do and felt prompted to make sure that each family in the branch had—and was using—a copy of Preach My Gospel. At that point in early 2006, the “Guide to Missionary Service” had been available for just over a year. Elder Ivie and his companion acted on their prompting and ordered and distributed copies of the book.
That was the beginning of big changes for the branch. Although Elder Ivie was in the branch for only two more months, he watched Preach My Gospel transform the attitudes of Church members—youth and adults alike—about missionary work.
“It was working!” remembers Chris. “Members were thinking about missionary work and trying to share the gospel and having great experiences. There was more missionary activity than the branch had seen in years.”
Members began reporting regularly to the missionaries about gospel conversations they were having with family members, friends, or colleagues. When those friends agreed to come to branch activities, other members welcomed them warmly. For Elder Ivie and his companion, that meant they were knocking on doors less and teaching the gospel more. One of the investigators they began teaching was later baptized.
“Sometimes we have this misperception in the Church that missionary work is only for missionaries to do,” says Chris. “But when the members of this branch were prepared through studying Preach My Gospel, they came to realize that they had a role in finding people to be taught. Preach My Gospel helped give them the missionary spirit.”
Chris has now been home in Medway, Massachusetts, for nearly three years, but he still uses Preach My Gospelin his daily study as a gateway to the scriptures. “It helped me be a better missionary. It has helped me be a better gospel teacher. And it is helping me be a better, more Christlike person,” he says.

Some missionaries struggled with the changes. Elder Ejodamen, from Nigeria, was called to serve in the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission. “I was supposed to report to the MTC May 24, 2020, and that was the period that COVID-19 really hit very hard. So, we were told we would attend the online MTC. It was literally like my dream has been shattered. I have heard wonderful experiences about the MTC. So, I was not going to the MTC. It was a very hard time.”
Ejodamen said, “The online experience with MTC, one thing that stands out for me is the experience I had to meet different people. It was something really very wonderful because we put our minds together, we studied together, we discussed together. But though it was not in physical contact, it was really wonderful. They were really nice people that I saw on the screen. We talked. We laughed, and they were cool MTC instructors that really helped us. My attending online MTC and someone attending real MTC is the same thing.”

I have always struggled to fit in. One night this particular struggle was hitting me really hard. It pushed me to the point of tears. When it came time for bed, I was feeling really drained and didn’t want to think about this struggle anymore. I decided I wouldn’t pray about it. I would just say my regular prayers and then go to sleep.
But as soon as I started praying, the Holy Ghost began to work on me, telling me that my Savior loved me, that He wanted to help me, and that I wasn’t alone. I was actually having a conversation with my Heavenly Father through the Holy Ghost. I was able to express how much I hurt, and He listened.
The Spirit was so strong that I knew in that moment that Heavenly Father and my Savior would never really leave me alone. They would always be there for me. I felt strengthened and uplifted and knew that I would be able to get through this trial. I know that Heavenly and Jesus Christ love me. Never again will I forget that. They are waiting to help us. All we have to do is reach out.
David M., Idaho, USA

Sam Stewart builds temples. Their spires do not rise majestically above busy freeways or green hilltops, but above the floor of the Stewart family room in Henderson, Nevada. Their walls are not hewn from fine granite but cut from plain brown cardboard boxes. Yet these knee-high models somehow capture the majesty of real temples.
Sam (11) hopes to design real temples someday. Architects (people who design buildings) must have an artistic flair, and Sam does. His mom first discovered his talent when he was just three years old. She walked into his room and was astonished to see pictures of dinosaurs all over the walls. On the one hand, she didn’t feel that bedroom walls were quite the right place for drawing dinosaurs. On the other hand, they were drawn so well! She suggested that Sam use paper next time, but the already-hatched reptiles were left to roam the walls.
Cardboard replaced paper as the young artist’s favorite surface when he was nine years old. The family was reading about putting on the whole armor of God (see Eph. 6:13–17). There were cardboard boxes lying around because the Stewarts were sending packages to Sam’s brothers who were on missions. The boxes and the armor collided in Sam’s mind, and he began constructing a cardboard “shield of faith.” After he finished it, he shaped a “sword of the Spirit” out of wood.
About this time, Sam began to feel a strong attachment to the nearby Las Vegas Nevada Temple. At first he appreciated it simply because it was beautiful. But as he learned more about the purpose of temples, he came to love it for the blessings it brings to people’s lives. This interest soon grew to include all the temples of the Church. Sam began filling a binder with pictures of the world’s temples and a file with diagrams and information about their design, history, and construction. By the time he had filled the binder, he knew that he wanted to build temples of stone someday. In the meantime, he would build temples of cardboard.
With boxes, a pair of scissors, a hot-glue gun, and a ruler, he created a faithful scale model of the Las Vegas Temple. It was astonishingly good. No one taught him how to build cardboard temples. He invented the craft as he went along.
Next came his version of the historic Nauvoo Illinois Temple, which was then being rebuilt. The family read all they could find about the project as Sam raised his cardboard walls. He drew the sunstones and other carvings onto the surface with a pen. The Manti Temple and the Preston England Temple followed. Then Sam started working on his masterpiece—the Salt Lake Temple, crafted in far greater detail than the others. This project has taken a year so far and is not yet finished. Once it’s completed, he plans to build models of the Montevideo Uruguay Temple and the Portland Oregon Temple.
Sam doesn’t just build temples; he studies them, too. He learned so much about the stone carvings on the Nauvoo Temple that his dad invited him to explain their meaning to the temple preparation class he teaches. Sam has also given family home evening lessons on temple architecture to several families in the ward.
He is not shy about sharing his love of temples with his friends from other religions. They like to watch him build, and as he works he quizzes them about temple facts. By now they know all the answers.
Working on temples doesn’t fill all of Sam’s time. He is an excellent student who studies hard because he knows that to be an architect he must be good at math and get good grades. He enjoys sports, including skiing, baseball, and soccer. He especially loves the outdoors and the beauties of nature. He is always eager to visit his family’s cabin in the mountains of Utah.
Families and temples just seem to go together, and Sam loves his family even more than he loves temples. His brothers, Willie and John, who are twins serving missions in Uruguay and England respectively, are role models for him. He is especially close to his sister, Lea, a student at BYU. Five years ago Lea suffered a spinal cord injury in a car accident, and she now uses a wheelchair. Sam often paints with her and plays wheelchair basketball with her when she is home on vacation. “Sam’s very sensitive to the feelings of others,” Lea says. “Since I’ve been in the wheelchair, he’s always there to help.”
“Sam wants to understand things spiritually,” his dad comments. “He prays. He reads the scriptures. He asks a lot of difficult questions—the kind that parents don’t always know how to answer. He’s made me a better person just being around him.”
His mom adds, “He has a clear vision of what’s right and wrong, and he’s strong in doing what’s right. He wants to make people happy. If I’m down, he knows it, and he’ll cheer me up.”
This builder of temples is also helping to build a happy family.

A respected business leader once encouraged Elder Stevenson to “learn, earn, and serve.” In 2004 the “serve” part of that equation was tested when Elder Stevenson and longtime business partner Scott Watterson were both called to serve as mission presidents. They felt they needed to explain to various stakeholders and customers why they were temporarily leaving their company. One by one they visited them.
“When we described our call and that we would serve for three years without compensation from the Church, they respected the goodness of that,” he says. They left the business in the hands of a trusted executive team, and it prospered.