Gospel Story Finder

By the way people turn and stare, smile and wave when the Roth family drives down the streets of Station-Siggenthal, you might think that they were celebrities. Although they don’t know everyone in the village, everyone seems to know them.
In Switzerland, where most families have only one or two children, the Roth family is extraordinary because besides Hans and Valerie Roth, the parents, there are ten children. And when they all pile into their van for an outing, it is quite a sight. Being all together is something Samantha (7) wishes that they could do more often.
With all of their busy schedules, it is sometimes difficult to see each other every day. Samantha, for instance, goes to school from 8:00 A.M. until 11:00 or 12:00 o’clock. Then she goes home for lunch. School starts again at 1:20 P.M. and goes until 3:00 or 4:00 o’clock. On Saturday, school is from 8:00 A.M. to 11:00 or 12:00 o’clock. Each child in the Roth household leaves for and comes home after school at different times.
Because of all this coming and going, not to mention other activities, Samantha wants her family to be together for supper each evening. It is a special time with everyone helping to get dinner on the table, sharing what’s happened to them during the day, and cleaning up afterward. If someone is not home, Samantha asks if he or she will be there the next night, because she really misses him.
She is grateful for family home evening, too, because it gives her family another to chance to all be together. A favorite family activity is to go on picnics. Mom makes and packs some “snake bread dough,” then they take hot dogs to one of their favorite spots, wrap the dough around the hot dogs, and roast them over a fire.
With such a large family, there are always things around the house that need doing. Shoes, boots, and coats all need to be kept in their proper places. Sports equipment is organized so that it’s easy to find. And household chores must be done daily.
“When you ask Samantha to help,” her mother said, “she never says, ‘No, I don’t want to.’” Samantha likes to vacuum, and she loves to wash dishes by hand, even though the family owns a dishwasher.
“She’s a good girl, and she helps a lot with the smaller children,” her father said.
She is always happy, smiling, and singing. “Samantha’s a very good singer,” said Naëmi (15). Sarah and Jessica (17), who are twins, appreciate her being always willing to help and to listen when they want to talk about their joys or problems.
When they have time, she plays basketball with Jérôme (16) and Joël (12). Manuel (10) is teaching her to play table tennis. But her favorite sport is swimming. Every chance she gets, weather permitting, she heads out the back door and down a grassy path to the nearby community swimming pool. She sometimes wishes that she could be a dolphin, leaping through waves and playing in the water all day.
Tending Semjon (4), Moana (3), and Jeshua (1) also helps the family. Once she learned a lot about faith and prayer. Semjon had wandered off, and she frantically searched for him for half an hour but couldn’t find him. She turned to Heavenly Father for help. After praying, she went on searching and sang “I Am a Child of God.” She feels that singing Primary songs pleases Heavenly Father. Soon she felt that she should return home. When she got there, she found Semjon. She was very grateful that Heavenly Father had answered her prayers.
She thinks all children should remember that when you have problems, you can always turn to your Heavenly Father in prayer. Sometimes it takes patience. Her brother Jérôme had worked very hard and saved money to buy a bicycle. When it was stolen out of the Roth’s garage, he prayed every day that he would get his bike back. After three months of praying every day, he felt impressed to go play in an area where he’d never gone before. He found his bike there. Samantha knows that Heavenly Father helped her brother find his bike. She knows He helped her find her brother Semjon. And she knows that although He doesn’t always answer prayers the way we want Him to, He does listen and answer everyone’s prayers.

My father was a farmer and put in long hard days of labor, much of it with animals. If any earthly trial I know of can drive a man to profanity, it is working with animals, and there are many men on whom it has had exactly that effect. My father wasn’t one of them. I’ll never forget a lesson he taught me one day while he was milking a cow that was sick with milk fever. Father had cracked his ribs not long before, and they were excruciatingly painful, but as if that weren’t enough, the cow in her sickness suddenly collapsed and fell right on top of him. It would have been a funny sight, him lying there in the spilled milk with a cow on top of him, if it hadn’t been for his white-faced agony as he struggled to rise. Although he was sick with pain, he didn’t call the cow any bad names. He got out from under her and onto his feet with difficulty and then helped the cow up. Then he ran his hand gently along her side and said, “You poor dear, I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

That may sound absurd to anyone accustomed to salving all wounds with violent words, but it seemed to me an expression of reason, kindness, and self-control far better than the string of oaths he could have spit out at a poor, dumb animal. I really don’t believe his ribs would have felt any better had he sworn, nor would he have felt any better about the experience. I don’t believe it anymore when someone tells me there are times when a person can’t help swearing.

From Sister Phyllis Marshall, Massey Park Ward, Auckland Papatoetoe Stake
As a young mother, I became more aware of how commercialised Christmases were becoming each year. I loved the decorations and the music that played in the malls and on the radio, but they pushed subtle ideas of what we should be buying, what our homes should look like and what our meals should be. They were not about our Saviour’s birth, which is the true reason for the season. So, one year, my husband, Jim, and I decided to try something. On Christmas morning, the children woke up to only three gifts under the tree and a reminder of how our Saviour only received three gifts from the Wise Men. In the coming years, we tried other ways keep the focus of Christmas on Jesus Christ. This included secret gift-giving, where we would drop off a box of presents and food to a family in need, knock and then run and hide. We also introduced Christmas morning devotionals full of singing and prayer and a reverent reading of the biblical account of our Saviour’s birth. Some of these activities have become lasting traditions, and they have made all the difference in how we, as a family, enjoy and celebrate Christmas.

As a 13-year-old, I had an opportunity to spend a few days at a vacation home that belonged to one of my friend’s parents. Three of us young men, full of excitement, traveled by train for several hours with his family to get there. When we arrived, we found a small lake within walking distance of the vacation home.
One day, the three of us decided to go swimming in the lake. An elderly neighbor, seeing where we were headed, warned us that some parts of the lake had deep spots that could be dangerous. Ignoring his warning, we jumped into the water. I was a beginning swimmer but felt reassured because I could touch the bottom of the lake.
We had been in the lake for a long time when I inadvertently drifted into one of the deep spots. I suddenly felt as if the water were swallowing me. I couldn’t feel anything solid beneath me, and I desperately flailed my arms and legs to try to stay afloat. I felt I was in great danger, and I felt guilty for not heeding the earlier warning. I prayed for help from God. I prayed with all my heart.
The neighbor who had warned us was still near the lake. When he realized I was in difficulty, he ran to the shore. He tried to reach out to me with a tree branch, but I was too far away. He motioned for me to swim toward a large tree near the edge of the water. “Just look at the tree!” he said. “Keep moving toward the tree.”
Fixing my sight on the tree, and making a huge effort, I fought my way in that direction. Finally, I could touch the bottom. I gained a firm foothold and, knowing I was free from danger, made my way out of the lake. Breathing deeply, I dropped to the ground. The man and my two friends gathered around me and made sure I was all right.
When I was in trouble in the water of that small lake, the man on the shore called, essentially, “Look to the tree, come toward me, and live.” As I made every effort to move toward him, I eventually found a place where I could stand on my feet and move to safety.

The first Christmas I experienced on my mission in France was very enjoyable. We were invited to celebrate with a wonderful member family, and I felt comfortable and at home. But the second Christmas stands out in my memory and will always be precious to me.
The thrill of the holiday season was in the air in the small French town where I was serving: Christmas music in the stores, advertisements everywhere, and Christmas cards in the mail.
A few days before Christmas the missionaries in our zone went caroling in the buses, metro stations, and shopping malls. We tried to share the joy of Christmas with our French brothers and sisters by singing carols, handing out brochures, and presenting copies of the Book of Mormon wrapped in Christmas paper. We wished the people a very merry Christmas. Just like the previous year, we were planning to spend Christmas Eve at a member family’s home. My companion and I had received an invitation and were looking forward to a wonderful homemade Christmas dinner.
On 24 December we worked hard the entire morning. When we returned home for lunch, we received a call from the family who had invited us for dinner that evening. They had to cancel the appointment because of a death in the family. We couldn’t go to their home because of their family commitments, so we tried to comfort them as best we could over the telephone. After we hung up, I realized this was going to be a very lonely Christmas Eve. The other elders in our apartment had been invited elsewhere. We ate our lunch and left again to work.
The evening fell, and a cold wind blew. As I looked at the Christmas trees lit up in warm homes—homes filled with happy faces—my thoughts wandered home to my own family in the Netherlands. They would be sitting together, singing Christmas carols, and reading the story of the Nativity. Then they would listen to Christmas music while my dad lit the candles on our Christmas tree. All of a sudden I felt very homesick.
We returned to our apartment, and I sat down at my desk, feeling very sorry for myself. I turned on a Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas tape and started to write in my journal.
One of the many things I learned on my mission was that those I served with were always my companion for a reason. Such was the case with Elder Wagner. After a while he got up from his desk and said he had a plan. “Why don’t we take some of our wrapped copies of the Book of Mormon, go down to the metro station, and talk to those who also feel lonely on Christmas Eve?” he suggested. I said I would join him, although I was pretty reluctant about the whole idea. I just wanted to sit in my chair and feel sorry for myself.
We left our apartment and started walking toward the metro. The closer we got to the station, the more I felt this wasn’t such a bad idea and might possibly turn out to be a good experience. When we boarded the metro, it was nearly empty. A few people were scattered about. I approached a man who was sitting alone by a window. Introducing myself, I asked if we could join him. He agreed. We started talking about families—his family, my family—and Christmas. He told me he was a refugee and had had to leave his country and his family. He told me about his wife and child and how much he missed them. Though our situations weren’t the same, I could sympathize because my family was also far away. Then I started talking about Jesus Christ, how much He meant to me, and how much Christmas meant to me. “The Savior came to earth,” I testified.
Instantly there was a fire burning in my soul. I felt the same burning sensation later that evening while I talked and testified of Jesus Christ to other people on the metro. When my companion and I finally left to return to our apartment, I was filled with a wonderful sense of appreciation. As we discussed the events of that evening I learned that my companion was feeling the same thing. We had truly felt the spirit of Christmas, and I felt as if my heart would burst with joy. The Savior was born in Bethlehem for me and for the entire world! How blessed I felt to have the gospel in my life and to have felt His love for me that night.
It was a Christmas I will always cherish, for it was on that Christmas Eve I finally learned what Christmas is all about. It is about Christ and sharing my precious testimony of the living Son of God.

Elder Prince Nwubani wasn’t sure if he wanted to serve a mission at all. His bishop had told him that if he did go, his father would die a happy man. So he went, expecting to be sent close to home as many missionaries from West Africa were. But Elder Nwubani was called to the Michigan Detroit Mission in the United States. This was on the other side of the world from where he had grown up, in Abuja Nigeria.
At the end of one particular week, the elders had nothing to show for their efforts. Nothing but zeros on their missionary planners. After dinner one evening, Elder Nwubani’s companion looked at him across the table and asked, “Elder, do you believe in the power of prayer?”
He was surprised by the question but answered that yes, he did believe.
“Then do you believe that if we pray hard enough right now, that we will receive a new investigator to teach this evening?” his companion asked.
Now this was a different story. After the difficult week that they had just experienced, without anyone interested in their message despite their hard work, a new investigator seemed like a long shot. But as he considered the question, it came to his mind that he should answer yes. So, the companions prayed together to find that one person whom they could teach.
As they left that evening, Elder Nwubani’s companion suggested that they use their bikes instead of taking their car. This seemed very strange. They rarely used their bikes, and it was freezing outside. He reluctantly agreed to go on bike, even though he didn’t ride well, and this was not the kind of weather a kid from Africa was used to.
As they travelled on their bikes, Elder Nwubani fell behind his companion who was a much better cyclist. As he struggled to keep up, he did not notice a large patch of black ice on the road. He hit the ice and slid out of control, falling from his bike. The pain in his knee was intense and he struggled to get up. His companion rushed back and said, “you are really hurt, we need to go back to the apartment.”
Again, something told Elder Nwubani that they needed to continue, even though it would be a real struggle for him. “I’ll be fine, Elder. We need to keep going,” he told his companion. They stopped at a nearby gas station to assess the damage.
“Hey elders, you never came back” they heard from a man pumping gas.
Surprised to hear this the missionaries went to talk to the man. “When I was 17 years old, I met with the missionaries and they promised to come back and teach me”, he said. “And you never came back”.
The man was well into his 40s, so it was definitely not Elder Nwubani and his companion whom the man had met, but nevertheless, they made arrangements to meet with the man. They had their new investigator.
Although it seemed impossible that this humble prayer offered by the missionaries could be answered, the Lord provided a way to reward his faithful servants. To this day, Prince Nwubani’s testimony of prayer has never wavered.

by Mike Kawasaki
The Young Men and Young Women presidencies with the Activities Committee of the Oak Hills 4th Ward, Provo Utah Oak Hills Stake, had planned a formal dinner-dance for the Mutual-age youth.
The dinner-dance was to prepare the youth to learn spiritual responsibilities and etiquette without the peer pressures of dating.
In preparation for the activity, we had a fireside with the speaker stressing that the youth develop a style of their own. A second fireside was held to learn manners, with volunteers offering to demonstrate their knowledge of table manners. The leader gently corrected or complimented as individuals demonstrated their knowledge of correct table etiquette. Details from avoiding chewing gum to how to butter bread were reviewed.
The evening of the dinner-dance arrived. The cultural hall was arranged with round tables, each set with fine crystal and china. As the different courses were served, leaders acting as waiters and waitresses were eavesdropping on dinner conversations ranging in subject from braces to seminary classes.
Following dinner, the dance began with partners having been arranged for each dance. One of the young men had programmed his computer to match up dance partners. Each participant was given a computer printout, rolled and tied with a ribbon.
The evening was a tremendous success. “We looked forward to this activity for so long, and it was so much fun. We learned a lot about how to eat at a formal table, and we learned about how to act on dates,” said my daughter Kara when reflecting about the evening.
After thanking their hosts, the young people asked, “Can we do this again next year?” The resounding answer was yes.

I promise you young men that if you will commit and prepare to serve a mission, it will be the most rewarding and exciting experience of your lives. Yes, there will be many and varied experiences—yes, even humorous experiences, like the elder who shared with me how he and his companion got on the bus, and as they sat down, in the seat in front of them was a grandfather with a young grandson who was having a temper tantrum. Missionaries being as ingenious as they are, these two elders decided they would see what they could do to quiet the little boy down and help the grandfather.
The boy had a baseball cap on. The elders proceeded to take the cap off his head and made a gesture like they threw it out of the window, but instead they quickly hid it under their seat. They then told the boy, as he felt his head, that if he wished hard enough he could wish it back on his head. The boy looked at his grandpa, wondering what was going on, and as he did, the elders quickly put the cap back on his head. The boy immediately felt the cap on his head, took it off, looked at it again, and then proceeded to throw it out the window, saying, “Do it again, Grandpa!” I think the elders got off at the next stop.

As the years go by, I continue to reflect on the Sabbath days of my youth and young adulthood. I still remember the first day I passed the sacrament as a deacon and the little glass cups I passed to the members of our ward. A few years ago a Church building in my hometown was remodeled. A compartment in the pulpit had been sealed. When it was opened, there were some of these little glass cups that had remained hidden for years. One of them was presented to me as a memento.
As I think about those sacrament cups from my youth, one in the sheltered valley of my boyhood home and the other thousands of miles away in the Pacific, I am filled with gratitude that the Savior of the world was willing to drink from the “bitter cup”17 for my sake. And because He did, I can say with the Psalmist, “My cup runneth over”18 with the blessings of His infinite and eternal Atonement.

True rough-and-tough camping is alive and well deep in the heart of Texas, where girls of the Boerne Ward, San Antonio Texas Stake, went on a three-day high adventure.
“The trip began with a training meeting where the girls divided themselves into teams of two or three for sharing tents and cooking meals. They learned how to stay safe and comfortable in a primitive environment,” says their leader, Linda Bohman.
While they were on their campout, the girls went swimming, canoeing, rappelling, had devotionals, and went exploring.
After such a rigorous activity, everyone was ready to come home.
“Wow, it was hard, but I did it!” said one girl.

Agnes wrote of one incident that took place shortly before they got to the Salt Lake Valley: “Just before we crossed the mountains, relief wagons reached us, and it certainly was a relief. The infirm and aged were allowed to ride, all able-bodied continuing to walk. When the wagons started out, a number of us children decided to see how long we could keep up with the wagons, in hopes of being asked to ride. At least that is what my great hope was. One by one they all fell out, until I was the last one remaining, so determined was I that I should get a ride.
“After what seemed the longest run I ever made before or since, the driver, who was William Henry ‘Heber’ Kimball, called to me, ‘Say, sissy, would you like a ride?’ I answered in my very best manner, ‘Yes sir.’ At this he reached over, taking my hand, clucking to his horses to make me run, with legs that seemed to me could run no farther. On we went, to what to me seemed miles. What went through my head at that time was that he was the meanest man that ever lived or that I had ever heard of, and other things that would not be a credit nor would it look well coming from one so young. Just at what seemed the breaking point, he stopped. Taking a blanket, he wrapped me up and lay me in the bottom of the wagon, warm and comfortable. Here I had time to change my mind, as I surely did, knowing full well by doing this he saved me from freezing when taken into the wagon.”

President David O. McKay spoke about his horse Dandy, who wanted complete freedom and no restraints. President McKay said:
“Under the saddle he was as willing, responsive, and cooperative as a horse could be. …
“But Dandy resented restraint. He was ill-contented when tied and would nibble at the tie-rope until he was free. He would not run away, he just wanted to be free. Thinking other horses felt the same, he would proceed to untie their ropes. …
“… His curiosity and desire to explore the neighborhood led him and me into trouble. Once on the highway he was hit by an automobile. …
“Recovering from that, and still impelled with a feeling of wanderlust, he inspected the fence throughout the entire boundary. He even found the gates wired. …
“One day, however, somebody left the gate unwired. Detecting this, Dandy unlatched it and took another horse … with him, and together they … went to an old house used for storage. Dandy’s curiosity prompted him to push open the door. … There was a sack of grain. What a find! Yes, and what a tragedy. The grain was bait for rodents! In a few minutes Dandy and the other horse were in spasmodic pain, and shortly afterwards both were dead.”
President McKay continued: “How like Dandy are many of our youth! … They are impulsive, full of life, full of curiosity. … They, too, are restive under restraint, but if they are kept busy, guided carefully and rightly, they prove to be responsive and capable; but if left to wander unguided, they all too frequently violate principles of right which often lead to snares of evil, disaster, and even death.”

As we attend the various stake conferences, it is thrilling to meet the young leaders whom the Lord has raised up—men such as President Eraldo dos Santos. He embraced the gospel as a young boy of seventeen. When he elected to accept a mission call, he was disowned by his family and put out on the street with his meager belongings. He served faithfully, however, and later was led to a beautiful young convert girl. They were sealed in the temple and are rearing their family under the covenant. Still under thirty years of age, he is successful in his business and is a great leader in the stake. How the Lord blesses the faithful members of the Church!

This time, I would like to humbly add a comparison inspired from an area in the field of my professional preparation. I am referring to the world of civil engineering. From the beginning of my university studies, I dreamed of the day when I would complete the requirements to be qualified to take the class that would teach me how to design buildings and other structures that could then be considered “anti-seismic.”

The day finally arrived for my first class on this subject. The first words from the professor were the following: “You are surely anxious to begin this course and learn how to design anti-seismic structures,” to which many of us eagerly nodded our heads. Then the professor said, “I am sorry to tell you that this is not possible, for I cannot teach you how to design a building that is against, that is ‘anti-’ or that is opposed to, an earthquake. This makes no sense,” he said, “because earthquakes will occur anyway, whether we like it or not.”

Then he added, “What I can teach you is how to design structures that are seismic-resistant, structures that can resist the forces coming from an earthquake, so that the structure remains standing without suffering any serious damage and can then continue offering the service for which it had been conceived.”

Although more than 40 years have passed since that first class in seismic-resistant engineering, I perfectly remember the moment when I began to acquire a deeper, more complete understanding of the vital importance that this concept would be present in the structures that I would design in my future professional life. Not only that, but even more important—that it would be permanently present in the edification of my own life and in those over whom I might exercise a positive influence.

I’m going to share an experience I had with President Kimball to help you understand what a choice human being he is, besides a powerful prophet, and perhaps base the rest of my remarks on this incident. I stood alone in the basement of the Church Office Building about two years ago, waiting for an elevator. It was very early on a Monday morning, well before the influx of office workers. As the elevator lowered into place, suddenly two Church security officers appeared from out of somewhere and held back the opening doors. Now, nobody does that for me, so I looked around just in time to see President Kimball and his personal secretary, Brother Haycock, entering the area. They moved quickly into the secured area, and I quickly moved out of the way. Well, as President Kimball turned and faced the front of the elevator, he saw me standing out there waiting for the next one. And he said to me very graciously, “Good morning.” And I said, “Good morning, President Kimball.” And he said, “Aren’t you going to get on?” And I said, “Well—” and hesitated for a few moments—“I didn’t think I was supposed to under the circumstances.” And then he said, “Aren’t you going up?” And I said, “Yes.” And he said, “Well, tell me, how do you intend to get there?” And then he said, “Come along.” So I got on! At the prophet’s invitation I was happy to ride up with him.

Years ago, a woman named Jacqueline Langey-Johnson moved into our neighborhood. She is a caretaker for two young women with developmental disabilities. As a couple, we wondered if Jacqueline might have a difficult time taking care of her property while caring for these young women. We decided to introduce ourselves and see how we could help.
We had a wonderful conversation during which we told Jacqueline we would be delighted to help her with some yard work. She gratefully accepted our offer and told us how difficult it was for her to get outside and do yard work since she couldn’t leave the young women alone in the house.
The Lord was very aware of Jacqueline’s situation and used us to help her find joy in her new home and feel welcomed in the neighborhood. We were thrilled at the chance to serve her and develop a forever friendship.
We soon discovered that Jacqueline was a devout Christian who loved reading about the Savior. So during one of our conversations, we gave her a Come, Follow Me—For Individuals and Families: New Testament manual. Jacqueline absolutely loved the material in the manual and the creative way it was presented—it made reading the New Testament enjoyable and easy to understand.
One day about two years ago, Jacqueline asked if the full-time missionaries could come to her home and teach her more about the Church using the Come, Follow Me manual. Alongside the full-time missionaries, we started having weekly discussions with her. After four months, she wanted to be baptized. She asked me (Bob) to perform the ordinance and my wife (Judy) to be a witness.
Since her baptism in September 2020, Jacqueline has served as a sacrament meeting greeter, assisted the full-time missionaries in teaching others, counseled young adults in our ward with developmental disabilities, met with the full-time missionaries weekly to learn more about the Church, and identified several of her ancestors who need temple ordinance work performed for them. She also currently serves in the Denver Colorado Temple.

We all had great faith. We had initiative too and soon decided we needed a means of transport. Winter was approaching and our little group of pioneers had no wagons or oxen. We decided on the modern day equivalent… a minibus. We already had a willing driver, Sidney Kitt. Now we needed money. All of us sisters could sew and had sewing machines, so we decided to sew us a bus!
We found the best places to buy cheap fabric and simple patterns for children’s clothes, but most of all we sewed peg bags - novelty bags that looked like little dresses on a hanger. We sewed what seemed like hundreds of them! We got our menfolk selling them and got many orders as our fame spread.
We were beginning to get a little weary, and sales were beginning to drop off, but we were still short of our target when our prayers were answered. Someone sent us a sum of money anonymously, just enough to make up the balance we needed.
We named our old minibus Peggy because of all the peg bags. Peggy wasn’t the most beautiful or the most functional minibus, but she got us over our Welsh mountain. There was always a spot near the top where she stalled, but all except the little ones would get out and push Peggy the rest of the way to the summit. We would then all scrambled back in and Peggy would sail down the other side.
One day, the inevitable happened. Peggy died on the mountain! It was a sad day for us when Peggy expired and was left to an unmarked grave at a car dealership. However Heavenly Father saw the plight of the Caerphilly pioneers and prompted Merthyr Tydfil Stake to start a Caerphilly Branch, renting rooms in Caerphilly, with Brother Kitt as branch president.
We were shortly joined by more members - all pioneers of faith and humour. We had so much between us – it was the golden thread that kept us going through difficult times and increased the love between us.
Our wards and branches have grown now and so have our families. From one seed can come a whole forest of oaks and every member is a seed. We are all pioneers in some way, in some wilderness, are we not? And Peggy had helped us over our not-so-rocky mountain.

Born in Mährisch-Ostrau, Czechoslovakia, on November 6, 1940, he was destined to see at every turn the devastation of war and the suffering innocent people endure because of the fateful decisions of others. His father, Karl Albert Uchtdorf, was conscripted into the German Army and was taken immediately from his wife and four small children. Little Dieter, the youngest in the family, knew only that his father was somewhere he didn’t want to be and that his mother, Hildegard E. Opelt Uchtdorf, was bravely fending for her little family as the war in Europe swirled around them.

With the Allies’ increasing success in the west and ominous progress by Stalin’s forces in the east, Hildegard Uchtdorf wanted to get as close as possible to the western front. So she left every meager possession the family possessed and, with her small family, made her way to Zwickau, Germany. Fortunately her husband survived the war and joined them in Zwickau, but he was a bitter opponent of both the Nazi and the Communist regimes. The former was now destroyed, but the latter was in control of their lives as a result of the postwar division of Germany. Because of Karl’s political position, their lives were in danger, so the family—for the second time in seven years—left every possession they owned and, despite the danger, made their way to a new haven in Frankfurt, West Germany.

Of this period Elder Uchtdorf has said: “We were refugees with an uncertain future. … I played in bombed-out houses and grew up with the ever-present consequences of a lost war and the awareness that my own country had inflicted terrible pain on many nations during the horrific World War II.” The family had every reason to be filled with despair and fear.

But, as President Gordon B. Hinckley once said during another time of international conflict, there is a “silver thread” that can run “through the dark tapestry of war.” And so it did for the Uchtdorfs. While in Zwickau they found the gospel of Jesus Christ. In his first message after being called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Uchtdorf expressed his gratitude for that gift.

“After World War II,” he said, “my grandmother was standing in line for food when an elderly single sister with no family of her own invited her to sacrament meeting. … My grandmother and my parents accepted the invitation. They went to church, felt the Spirit, were uplifted by the kindness of the members, and were edified by the hymns of the Restoration. … How grateful I am for a spiritually sensitive grandmother, teachable parents, and a wise, white-haired, elderly single sister who had the sweet boldness to reach out and follow the Savior’s example by inviting us to ‘come and see’ (see John 1:39).”

Wouldn’t you get a little nervous if your high school counselor suddenly and unexpectedly called you into the office?
You’d especially be nervous if you were Richard Aballay, a senior at a Catholic seminary in New York City. Richard had seen the LDS commercials on TV, had contacted the missionaries, and was baptized. He hadn’t yet mentioned it to anyone at the school, where boys are preparing to become Catholic priests.
“How are you doing in your subjects?” the counselor began politely on that fateful day in late October.
“Fine,” said Richard, cautiously.
Then the counselor jumped to his real concern. “Are you affiliated with another church?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“Why?”
“I have come to know the Savior better in this church. I know this church is doing more for me. It is the church of God.”
As the counselor began to lecture, warning Richard that being a member of a different church was grounds for dismissal, Richard thought how easy it would be to say he’d made it all up. Then he could finish his senior year in peace.
“But I couldn’t do that,” Richard said later. “You can’t deny the truth when you have it.”
By the next day it was official: Richard had to leave.
The following week was torment, Richard said. But with much prayer, his family was able to find space for him in another good school.
“From that experience,” Richard says, “I have learned that the Lord will never abandon me.”
In fact, it gave Richard the chance to tell more people about the gospel, since his classmates wanted to know why he would leave school for his new beliefs.
Being dismissed from school is not the only challenge Richard has faced. He’s grown up in the Bronx, a borough of New York City. It’s not an easy place to live.
“I know for a fact that if it weren’t for the gospel, I would probably go into something crazy,” he says. “The inner city is hard. But I know the greatest blessing in my life has been the priesthood.
“Ever since I was first ordained a deacon, I noticed a great change. I just felt like the Lord was with me. And I had a confidence—I could walk into my school where kids were doing bad things, and I could say no. It helps keep me straight. I’m always saying to myself, ‘I want to honor the priesthood.’”
The gospel has helped him in other ways, too. One is that since he joined the Church, Richard has been able to overcome a speech impediment. Before receiving the Holy Ghost, “I could not say a word in public,” Richard said. Now he blesses the sacrament, talks in church, and has taken roles in two road shows. “It’s like it says in Ether 12:27. My weakness became a strength,” he says.
Richard also used to party a lot. But, after the last bash, he said, “I saw things there and I didn’t feel right. For some funny reason I knew I didn’t belong there.”
He left the party and vowed to become more involved in things like service, schoolwork, studying the scriptures, listening to good music, and not to watch so much television.
“It’s hard,” he says. “I’m a teenager. I like to keep up with things going on outside. I don’t want to be a social hermit. But I feel that if I’m going to go on a mission, and if I’m going to get married in the temple, and if I’m going to receive callings, I know I have to be worthy.”
Many of his friends think this is a strange road to take. They also think it’s a little weird that he decided to attend BYU, a school where there aren’t many Hispanics. “I like a challenge,” Richard explained.
That decision is typical of him. “I don’t care what other people think of me. It’s what my Heavenly Father thinks of me, it’s what my mom thinks of me, it’s what I think of myself,” he says.
Even though it sometimes seems that his trials have increased since he joined the Church, Richard says, “I know God really has his hand working in my life. You have to go through a lot to learn what’s good and what’s bad, and to appreciate what you have instead of wanting more.”

Mom! Dad! On Saturday can we …
… go to the rocks and minerals show?
… go to the horse show?
I really want to find a cool new rock for my collection.
I could take my sketchpad to draw the horses.
Remember, we decided we’d spend this Saturday together. But after our chores, we’ll only have time for one activity.
Why don’t you two work out a solution?
We could flip a coin, but if I lose, I’m gonna be really bored at the horse show.
Yeah, I feel the same about the rock show. … Hey! Let’s find something we both like to do!
I don’t think Mom would let us eat cupcakes all afternoon.
I’ve got an idea! That movie we’ve been wanting to see is at the dollar theater now.
Brilliant!