Gospel Story Finder

It was Florence’s exemplary behavior that began the series of events that fulfilled her greatest longing. She was back in her hometown of Onitsha, Nigeria, practicing nursing. A woman in the neighborhood noticed that Florence came home after work, rather than going out with men. The woman suggested that her nephew contact Florence.

When Christopher Chukwurah met Florence, he told her immediately that he was looking for a wife. Based on his aunt’s recommendation, he said, he would like to marry Florence. Florence promised to consider his proposal.

“I had been very close to the Lord all my life,” recalls Sister Chukwurah. “Something kept telling me that I had to be close to the Lord.” She had been consistently praying for a good husband—someone who would care for her and who would not drink alcohol. “I wanted a family that would really be anchored on the Savior,” she explains.

When she prayed about Christopher, she had a warm feeling that this was a man who was spiritually inclined. When he returned for her answer, Florence accepted his proposal. They were married on 3 March 1972.

Butch and Diana Alder, from Sandy, Utah, are serving as senior missionaries in the Australia Melbourne Mission. Warrnambool holds a special place in Elder Alder’s heart, as his great-great-grandparents, John and Charlotte Nye, joined the Church there.
The Nyes were introduced to the Church of Jesus Christ in 1856 by George Thomas Wilson, the local veterinarian, when he came to their home to treat their prized horse. Conversation turned to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and Brother Wilson invited the couple to learn more. At the time of their baptism, the nearest established congregation of the Church was in Sydney.
Elder Meurs told the story of his parents, who lived in the area, joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1958.
Fred and Lois Meurs, strong Christians from different faiths were actively searching for someone to answer their gospel questions. After carefully studying the New Testament, they began to search for a church that had teachings that were consistent with Jesus’s teachings.
They had questions about the purpose of life, priesthood authority, what happens when we die, ordinances like baptism, and the role of prophets and apostles. They had spoken to the religious leaders of the community, but no one could give them the answers they were searching for. They began to earnestly pray for someone to answer their questions.
That same week, two full-time missionaries, Elder Jones and Elder Erikson, knocked on their door and said they had a message about Jesus Christ to share with them. Fred and Lois asked them all their questions, and the missionaries answered every one. Three weeks later the Meurs were baptised and confirmed. Some other families joined soon after, and the first Warrnambool Branch was formed.
As the Church grew, new members moved in, and others moved out.
“Many wonderful people, over the years, have been touched by the wonderful association with the Warrnambool Branch and have very fond memories,” Elder Meurs said. “Faith has been strengthened, and people have become part of the Church of Jesus Christ here on the earth. They have felt the Saviour’s teachings and His presence in their lives.”
Elder Meurs, quoting President Russell M. Nelson’s remarks from the October 2024 general conference said, “My dear brothers and sisters, in a coming day, Jesus Christ will return to the earth as the millennial Messiah. So today I call upon you to rededicate your lives to Jesus Christ. I call upon you to help gather scattered Israel and to prepare the world for the Second Coming of the Lord. I call upon you to talk of Christ, testify of Christ, have faith in Christ, and rejoice in Christ!” (“The Lord Jesus Christ Will Come Again,” Liahona, Nov. 2024).
Elder Meurs concluded his remarks by saying, “I testify that Jesus Christ lives. He knows each of us. Dedicate yourselves to living the gospel of Jesus Christ.”
Also in attendance was Damon Page, Area Seventy. Speaking to the branch members, he said:
“What will we raise here in the Warrnambool Branch? By following our faith and the promptings of the Spirit, we will touch those around us. We will raise up strong sons and daughters that will become more like our Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ.”
“How do we become who we want to be? Work is the secret. We must be willing to work for those things that will bring us closer to Jesus Christ.”
Karen Jones, a branch member since 1990, said, “The members lift and strengthen each other. Many members have passed away, but the remaining members have put their shoulder to the wheel and have helped the branch to push along. Warrnambool has given me strength, love, and hope.”
President Suringa said, “What is happening today is a manifestation of the Lord’s power. There are so many great things ahead.”

My friend Marcia had moved several times in her young years as her father’s work required it. She was now ten years old and facing another new school. Marcia’s mother could see the concern on her daughter’s face and sat down with her to discuss what was bothering her.
Marcia talked about the challenge of joining classes at midterm and trying to get in step with the subject matter, teacher, and other students. Mother pledged her support to help Marcia make the adjustment. Then tears welled up in Marcia’s eyes. In all honesty, she shared with her mother, “I can overcome the difficulties with the academics and the new teachers. But Mother,” she said, with tears trickling down her freckled cheeks, “I just hate eating my lunch alone.” Marcia needed someone to recognize her situation and invite her to join a group and get acquainted.
Laura was someone who recognized a potentially awkward situation and did something to avoid it. She and Kate were best friends. The two of them included others in their circle of friends. A few of these girls planned a party, inviting all in the group except Kate. Laura, after becoming aware of what had happened, told the others that she would not be able to accept their invitation unless Kate was included. This kind, loyal act of a friend who followed the golden rule (see 3 Ne. 14:12) prevented pain and sorrow.
We become kind by doing kind things. The Apostle Paul said: “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you” (Eph. 4:32).
The Merrie Miss motto is I Will Follow God’s Plan for Me. God’s plan for us includes our being kind. My challenge to you is to search for opportunities to be kind. The promise is: you will be happy. I pray that each of us will develop a desire to be kind to others and to ourselves and continually act upon that desire.

When I studied in France, it would have been easy for me to distance myself from the Church. My family was in Tahiti and wouldn’t know what I was doing. But I had a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and I wanted to feel his presence. So I decided to live in harmony with the teachings of my Heavenly Father. One day when I was fasting because of an exam I had to take at school, I felt the Lord’s presence strongly and knew that his love was with me. I will never forget that moment.
Jerry Brothers, 22Papeete, Tahiti

My family and I were driving home from my grandparents’ house after Christmas. The roads were very icy. Our minivan got stuck going up a hill. My dad got out of the van and tried to push it up the icy hill, but it wouldn’t move. We were stuck. I said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help us. My dad got back out of the van and pushed again, and we went up the hill! Heavenly Father does answer our prayers, and He loves us.
Andrew B., age 7, Wisconsin, USA

In the early ’90s, before Melbourne had a temple, our stake hired a bus once a month to take us to the Sydney Australia Temple.

In preparation, I would ensure my visiting teaching was done. One Tuesday evening before a Friday bus trip, my companion and I visited one sister. As we sat chatting, her husband came into the lounge, and I felt to ask him for a priesthood blessing.

In that blessing, he said that two of the sisters whose work I would do in the Sydney Australia Temple would come and thank me in the celestial kingdom, which of course, was very nice to hear.

The next day, I received a phone call and was told that the bus wasn’t going to the temple on Friday.

I thought, “Oh dear, what am I to do?” I rang my friend, Bev, who always went on the bus, and she confirmed that the bus trip was cancelled.

I suggested that we hire a little bus for a few of us to go, but she didn’t want to do that.

“What about these two sisters?” I thought, recalling the words in the priesthood blessing I’d received. “I have to get to Sydney somehow!”

I worked on Fridays for a lady who owned a home in Ivanhoe for people with special needs. I did a lot of cooking and was responsible for all the meals there, which needed to be served exactly on time. The day before we were meant to bus to the temple, 24 ladies were to have dinner at 5:00 pm. I needed to have them fed and everything cleared away by 5:25pm so that I could get to the travel agency and book my airline ticket to Sydney.

Throughout the day, whenever I had a chance, I kept ringing the travel agent hoping to secure a ticket but to no avail. Anne, the travel agent, said to me at one point, “Give up, Bev.”

Well! That was like waving the red flag at the proverbial bull!

I managed to clear the evening meal and ring the bell and by 5:25 pm, with my bag in hand, I was waiting at the front door ready to leave—then off I went in my car to the travel agency.

Fortunately, another client was booking an overseas trip, so the office was still open when I arrived at 5:35 pm. The agent who assisted me looked at the screen and said, “I don’t think you’re going to find a flight.”

I stood there, smiled, and waited, and then she said, “Hang on. There is still one left.”

I said, “Thank you,” paid for my ticket and raced out to my car to get to the airport as soon as I could.

I knew I was a little late getting to check-in. I apologized to the attendant and asked, “Am I okay?” She had a look, found that the plane was running 20 minutes late, then handed me my ticket and said, “Go to Gate 11.”

From the Sydney Airport, I needed to catch a train to my girlfriend’s house in Epping, which is not far from the temple. When I landed, I thought I might get a taxi to her place instead, but it was 11:00 pm by then and no taxis were available. I had to walk in the dark for nearly two kilometres.

When I finally arrived at her home, I saw there were no lights on I had to carefully make my way down the dark driveway, lugging my suitcase, one step at a time, to knock on the door.

My friend had thought I wasn’t coming because I’d forgotten to tell her about the mayhem I had been through, but all is well that ends well.

I was able to do the work for those two sisters, and I often think of the time when I will greet them in the celestial kingdom of God.

Photographs by Christina Smith
I thought I was going for a short weekend trip to visit my family during a brother’s wedding. But when my wife, Etelani, dropped me off at the airport, handed me a packed suitcase, and told me to stay with my parents until I was ready to be a husband, I knew things had become serious. I would have to make drastic changes in my life.
As I watched her drive away, little did I know how much she hurt. She told me later that she then drove to a safe place to park along the road, where she sobbed. I hadn’t realized how much my behavior—drinking and doing drugs—was hurting her, and I didn’t realize how much it was hurting me.
We both grew up in Samoa, where we met. My family joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when I was in high school. But the commandments got in the way of my lifestyle and the parties I liked to attend. By the time the other members of my family were sealed in the temple, I was not active in the Church and made every excuse to stay away from Church activities.
After Etelani and I got married, we moved to Seattle, Washington, where my family lived. Then we moved away from them to Utah. There, Etelani tried desperately to help me change my ways.
Often, I would be gone for a week or two at a time drinking and partying while she remained at home, not knowing where I was. She hurt deeply, realizing she could not change me. These were dark and painful days for her. She became despondent, riddled with pangs of insecurity. She wondered if my unruly actions stemmed from her inability to bear children.
“If we are meant to stay together,” she prayed to Heavenly Father, “then please help me know what to do.”
The Spirit prompted her to act when my parents called to announce that one of my brothers was getting married. The day Etelani dropped me off at the airport, she said, “I think this is a good time for us to be separated.” As it turned out, it was 10 months before we got back together.
My parents and siblings were active members of the Church. My mother was strong in her testimony and was aware of my situation. During the 10 months I lived with my parents, she gave me kind and gentle invitations to join the family at church and church activities, and she reminded me of the importance of being sealed to Etelani in the temple. Those simple invitations, and being surrounded by my family’s love, helped me return to church.
While Etelani was in Utah, working overtime hours to distract her from her sadness, I was undergoing a transformation brought about by my mother’s love and the Savior’s atoning grace.
I had tried many times over the years to kick my bad habits, but I never could. In the past, I had used every excuse to stay away from church, but now as I confronted the loss of my wife, I knew I had to change.
Change wasn’t easy. “Who am I to be saved?” I wondered. In the past, I had tried to change by myself. Alone, I couldn’t beat my habits, but with help from Heavenly Father and His Son, along with the scriptures, fasting and prayer, the sacrament, and repentance, I knew I could change. Becoming involved in the Church and exercising faith in Jesus Christ changed my heart and my way of thinking (see Mosiah 5:7; Alma 5:12–13). I soon found that I could do things I couldn’t do before.
With steadiness, over time I came to feel the Savior’s mercy. He was aware of Etelani and me. I felt that He loved us. His love changed my appetites. I no longer obsessed over past indulgences. When I finally had a testimony of the gospel, I wanted to be with Etelani again.
When she saw that I held a steady job and had saved money for a place to live, she joined me in Seattle. She still wanted us. After I had demonstrated that my devotion to her and the gospel was real, we adopted a daughter. Having a child helped me commit to the changes I had made. I knew I had to be a good father for her. I liked where I was heading, and I wanted to take my family with me. I was sealed to my parents. Etelani and I adopted a son. And we have been sealed in the temple as a family. God has been good to us.
Tony with his son, Tony Jr.
Having gone through the refiner’s fire, I know from firsthand experience that the Savior can change us. But first, we must get close to Him. You’ll be amazed at what He can do. Feeling His divine love can lead to sincere repentance, and that can change you—no matter how far you have fallen.
I’m grateful for a second chance. I’m grateful for the gospel. I’m grateful the Savior brought me back. And I’m grateful He helped me become a better husband to my wife and father to my children.
If we have faith in the Savior and trust in Him, we will be surprised at the changes He can make in us.
Tony remains grateful the Lord helped him become a better husband to his wife, Etelani, and father to his children, Tony Jr. and Prelain.

Grisell was very excited to join the Church and loved learning about the gospel, but as we continued teaching Grisell, many challenges came up, as they usually do when someone commits to baptism. Her family opposed her attending church, and she was becoming distressed. I decided to share the same scripture with her that I had shared with Hugo many months prior. Grisell’s downcast face changed to the expression of joy and excitement she had shown when we first met as I read her the promise that she would be able to do anything that was the Lord’s will.

Suddenly I realized that this scripture was not only true for Hugo and Grisell. Just weeks before I had doubted my own ability to do what God had commanded me. As I reflected back on my recent discouragement and my mission up to that point, I knew that the Lord’s promise was true for me as well.

My friends and I were doing a play. There was a girl nobody talked to. My friend said something mean about her, and I did too. I felt really bad about it. The next day my friend made fun of her again. I said, “Maybe she needs a friend.” I went and talked to her. I told her she was doing a good job. She smiled for the rest of practice. I was glad I could make her day a little brighter.
Lauren C., age 11, Utah, USA

Many times Amelia’s adventures were shared with Muriel. One time, when the family was moving and the last load was ready to go, the family cat, Von Sol, had run off, and the family had to leave without it. At the end of the next day, when nothing had been done to find the cat, Amelia and Muriel grabbed a gunnysack, climbed over a fence, went through a back alley, and set off for their former home. It was a long walk, but they made it. There by the door sat Von Sol. When the girls tried to capture him, the cat became frightened and scrambled up a nearby birch tree. The lowest limb was ten feet above the ground. Seeing no other way to get to the cat, and not being one to give up, Amelia shinnied up a porch post to the roof of the house. From there she climbed onto a branch of the tree and up to where Von Sol was crouching. After a long discussion, Amelia coaxed the cat into the gunnysack. It was a very tiring walk home for the girls, especially with the weight of Von Sol in the gunnysack. And worry about their parents’ reaction to their adventure didn’t make the trip any easier. But Amelia was happy to have rescued Von Sol.

The cold winter winds had blown drifts of snow into our tent that morning. We didn’t find out until later how lucky we were—the snow had piled up on the tops of several other tents that same night, causing their roofs to collapse on the people sleeping inside. But at the time, all Tamar and Maria, two of my sisters, and I knew was that we were terribly cold and hungry.
We were camped next to the Sweetwater River with our mother and other family members, on our way to the Salt Lake Valley. It had been snowing for four days straight, and until the blizzard let up, we were stuck. And what was worse, we were quickly running out of food. Everyone in our handcart company shared their supplies equally, which meant that everyone got equally small portions. We were only allowed a handful of flour each. The night before, Mama had taken a strip of rawhide off the frame of the cart and boiled it into a sort of broth. To my brother and sisters and me, it tasted wonderful, but it did little to fill our empty stomachs. And now here we were the next morning, lying buried under a layer of quilts and a layer of snow, knowing that there would be no more food today than there was yesterday. All that stood before us was another day of cold misery.
I shut my eyes and wished that I could go back to sleep. In my dreams, at least, I was comfortable and warm. I could pretend that I was back in our lovely England, in our beautiful little cottage. I remembered the day the missionaries had spoken at our town chapel, and how Mama’s and Papa’s eyes had begun to burn with a light I had never seen before.
That was why we were here. Ever since their baptisms a few years ago, Mama and Papa had dreamed of joining the Saints in America. We had skimped and saved and finally were able to afford the price of passage on a boat to the United States.
Not being able to afford a horse or wagon, we signed on with a handcart company led by Mr. Edward Martin. Papa passed away early in the journey, and Mama’s health was very delicate. We often had to let her rest in the handcart while we three older girls pulled and pushed. She was so determined to reach Salt Lake that there was never any thought of turning back. But now, after trudging across half the American continent, it didn’t look as if we were going to get much farther. I shuddered and tried pulling the quilt closer around me. I had never felt as weak or as miserable as I did that morning.
“Patience, are you awake?” Mama’s sleepy voice came from the other side of the tent.
I groaned.
“Come, Patience, get up and help me make a fire.” I could hear the rustlings as she climbed from beneath the quilt.
The thought of leaving the small warmth provided by the quilt and my slumbering sisters made me shiver even more. “Oh, Mama,” I said, “I can’t get up. It’s too cold. And I’m so hungry! I don’t think I have the strength.”
“Tamar? How about you, lass?”
Tamar barely stirred beside me as she mumbled, “I don’t feel well, Mama, not at all. I can’t possibly get out of bed.”
Mama came over and knelt next to our huddled bodies. She put a gloved hand on Maria’s shoulder and shook her gently, saying, “Come, Maria, you get up.”
Maria groaned. “I can’t, Mama.”
Mama stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Girls, this will not do!” She pursed her lips in thought for a moment, then her face brightened. “I believe I will have to dance for you. Will that make you feel better?”
And before we could react, Mama stood on her toes and began dancing a jig, a bright lively dance from home with lots of kicking and bouncing. She also began singing an old ballad we used to sing in our village on holidays. Mama jumped and spun around, her voice cheerful and bright in the muffled stillness of the winter morning. Tamar, Maria, and I all poked our noses out from beneath the quilt to watch her, too surprised to laugh.
Then all of a sudden, Mama’s foot slipped on the snow that had drifted in through the tent door. She let out a little yelp as her feet flew out beneath her and she landed on the cold ground with a thump.
“Mama!”
In seconds, all three of us girls were at her side. We were sure that she had twisted her ankle or broken her leg or worse. But as soon as we helped her sit up, we saw that she was shaking not with pain but with silent laughter.
“Mama!” I exclaimed. “What on earth did you think you were doing, dancing like that on the snow! You could have been hurt!”
Mama chuckled again as she held us all close. “Oh, girls, I knew I had to get you out of bed somehow! I couldn’t stand the thought that my girls were getting discouraged and were going to give up. I knew that that simply would not do. So I thought that I could make you all jump up if I danced for you—especially if I fell down!”
I looked at my sisters. They looked at me. I knew at that point that no matter how hard our journey got, Mama would never let us fail. We would make it to the Salt Lake Valley if she had to drag us all along behind her.
“That was a clever little trick, Mama,” Tamar said.
“Yes,” I said as I grabbed Maria’s hand, “and now that we’re out of bed, let’s get that fire going before we all freeze to death!”

A few months after we got married, Norma and I went to live in Asunción, Paraguay. As young people full of energy and dreams, we moved forward starting from precarious conditions. We started living in a small room, until we got the resources to rent a small house for us and our first child. That little house had a large space in the back and a garden in front. We felt like we owned the world.
We began to embellish the place by planting trees and making a family garden. We planted mango trees in the front of the house, we painted the sidewalk curb white, as well as the walls that surrounded it. We painted the trunks of the trees to avoid pests and we put stones around them also painted white. There was no money to hire a painter to paint the house, so we both painted the house and took care of it even though it was not ours. The house was always clean and well organized. It was a refuge. A place of peace where our children spent the first years of their lives.
After we started painting the house and embellishing it, the neighbors began to do the same; soon, the whole block had sidewalk curb painted white and the houses painted. The block had been transformed.
The Fiddler on the Roof tells the story of Anatevka, an imaginary village in Ukraine in which Jews and Russians lived in harmony. In that small town lives Tevye, the milkman, with his wife, Golde, and their daughters. Because society and traditions are changing, Tevye gathers his daughters and explains why they have traditions and tells them:
“In our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn’t easy. You may ask, why do we stay up here if it’s so dangerous? We stay because Anatevka is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word?—tradition!
“Because of our traditions, we’ve kept our balance for many, many years. . . . Because of our traditions, everyone knows who he is and what God expects him to do.”1
As members of the Church we are different from the rest of the world because of our knowledge of what God expects of us.
That knowledge should inspire us to press forward.
The husband must provide for the home, he must be a worker since in Zion “he that is idle shall not eat the bread nor wear the garments of the laborer” (D&C 42:42).
We see that sometimes, according to the culture of the world, women work, and men rest or benefit from their work; that the man commands and the woman obeys and serves him. That is not the culture of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“And it came to pass that I, Nephi, did cause my people to be industrious, and to labor with their hands” (2 Nephi 5:17).
The document “The Family: A Proclamation to the World”2 is like a refreshing breeze on a summer afternoon. Husband and wife work together to build a family for God.
Elder Tom L. Perry said:
“The practice of having traditions to keep us close to the great heritage which is ours to enjoy should be something every family should try to keep alive. . . .
“If we will build righteous traditions in our families, the light of the gospel can grow ever brighter in the lives of our children from generation to generation. We can look forward to that glorious day when we will all be united together as eternal family units to reap the everlasting joy promised by our Eternal Father for His righteous children.
Our family activities and traditions can be a beacon to the rest of the world as an example of how we should live to merit His choice blessings and live in peace and harmony until the day that He returns to rule and reign over us.”3
Traditions, as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, help us focus on what is of value and to discard other traditions that are foreign to the principles of the gospel.
Some of these traditions are:
Kneeling daily to do family prayer
Studying the scriptures together
Keeping the Sabbath, behaving correctly and having appropriate activities for the Lord’s Day
Attending sacrament meetings and partaking of the sacraments
Having family home evenings
Fasting monthly and paying our tithes and offerings to the Lord
Attending the temple and doing family history
Other traditions that will also help us stay away from the world and to strengthen our family and enrich our lives are:
Having a family garden
Keeping my house neat and clean, which has no nothing to do with purchasing power, but with work habits
Receiving blessings from the father and from one’s patriarchal blessing
Missionary preparation
Participating in seminary and institute courses
Seeking excellence through the improvement of education
In establishing these traditions each family must include a family council, composed of all its members to teach the children basic responsibilities in family organization, since they can thusly learn how to make decisions and act accordingly.
Marriages without children or those who live alone are not exempt from this task. The individual is a “family” and these traditions will help them stay focused on what is important and essential.
We must work for that to which we aspire. President Joseph F. Smith, who learned to do the work of an adult from an early age and passed on his work ethic to his children.
He would tell them: “People die in bed. And so does ambition.”4 With that principle in mind, he and his wife tried to get the children up early in the morning and do their part to keep the house clean and tidy.
President Smith also helped with household chores. When he and his wife, Louie, were newlyweds, he worked in the construction of his first house and learned to do most of the domestic repairs. He would also help to cook, and to harvest ripe fruits and preserve them in jars.
May our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ be adorned by the practice of these traditions that are part of his gospel which will embellish our lives and provide the light that will illuminate our path to Him and thus not only at the end of the journey, but even as we walk along our path we can express: “And it came to pass that we lived after the manner of happiness” (2 Nephi 5:27).

“Unity Among All His People” declares the sign carried by the Young Women of the Bismarck North Dakota Ward. Dressed in their Native American “fancy shawls,” they are marching in the International Powwow and Bismarck Folkfest Parade ahead of a grand float, complete with a large headdress. The Bismarck Young Women have become a fixture in the parade over the last several years, and their float has won multiple first-prize honors. Much of this success is thanks to the guidance and inspiration of Sister Marilyn One Feather, who started the unity float.
Sister One Feather wanted the float project to promote unity. She invited the Young Women to be involved in building and decorating the float, which encouraged a spirit of friendship among the girls. Speaking of the experience, Mia Maid Barbara Gietzen said, “It builds faith. It takes a lot of faith to get these things together.”
During the parade, Mia Maids Jenna Byzewski and Mindy Bowen, who both have Native American ancestry, participated in traditional dances alongside the float with several other Native American youth from the community. This kind of collaboration and interaction will, Sister One Feather hopes, foster a greater spirit of fellowship within the community at large.
The float brought the Young Women together as a group and taught them the value of unity—within the Church and the community. “Having unity in your life is really important,” says Beehive Becky Gietzen. “Everybody—not just the people you hang around with, but everybody—should be a part of the group. You try not to leave anybody out.”

A story from my own family history illustrates this principle. My great-grandfather Joseph Watson Maynes was born in 1856 in Hull, Yorkshire, England. His family joined the Church in England and then made their way to Salt Lake City. He married Emily Keep in 1883, and they became the parents of eight children. Joseph was called to serve a full-time mission in June of 1910, when he was 53 years old. With the support of his wife and eight children, he returned to his native England to serve his mission.

After serving faithfully for approximately two years, he was riding his bicycle along with his companion to Sunday School services in Gloucester, England, when his tire burst. He got off his bicycle to assess the damage. When he saw that it was serious and would take a while to fix, he told his companion to go ahead and begin the Sunday service and he would be there shortly. Just as he finished saying this, he collapsed to the ground. He had died suddenly of a heart attack.

Joseph Watson Maynes never saw his wife and eight children again in this life. They were able to transport his body back to Salt Lake City and have his funeral service at the old Waterloo Assembly Hall. A statement made at his funeral service by Elder Anthony W. Ivins of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles teaches us an important lesson about life, death, and endurance: “This is what the gospel gives us—not immunity from death, but victory over it through the hope we have in a glorious resurrection. … It applies to [Joseph Maynes]. … It is a pleasure, and it is a satisfaction and joy to know that men lay down their lives in righteousness, in the faith, true to the faith.”4

This family story inspires me to try my very best to follow the example of endurance and spiritual stamina illustrated by my great-grandfather. I am equally inspired by the faith of his wife, Emily, whose life after Joseph’s death was certainly a heavy burden to bear. Her testimony was strong and her conversion complete as she spent the rest of her life true to the faith while supporting her eight children on her own.

In 2020, my cancer unexpectedly returned! After the initial crying from us all, I felt calm. I had another wonderful blessing and could feel peace. I play the piano, and playing songs helped me get through it.
I love the April 2020 General Conference talk from President Nelson called Hear Him.1 Playing and listening to music is a way I Hear Him. I prayed to Heavenly Father and said I didn‘t mind having chemo as long as I suited being bald.
The cancer went, which was a surprise, and a nurse who was an atheist said, “You know I don‘t believe in God, but someone is watching over you”. I‘d spoken to them all during my treatment about members fasting and praying.
In June 2022, the cancer had returned for the third time in 4 places! I‘ve never been an anxious person but waiting for the result was horrible. My husband and I hugged and cried yet again. We said a prayer to ask Heavenly Father to help us get through it. Another talk from President Nelson came to mind. It was Let God Prevail.2
This time the monthly chemotherapy has affected me psychologically. I‘m a strong-willed person and I‘ve never said, “Why me?”. Instead, I ask the Lord what I need to learn. My prayers have never been as heartfelt. Yes, sometimes I cry out during the night when I‘m so fatigued with my chemo. We have a picture of Christ on our bedroom wall, and when I‘m awake during the night I ask for His help. I have the words ‘Let God Prevail‘ in my mind every day. Whenever my husband is stressed about his business, he knows I‘m going to smile and he says, “Let God Prevail.”
Although we‘re going through these trials, and I still have down days where I cry and feel hopeless, most days I Let God Prevail and feel at peace. I‘m still serving as our Ward Relief Society President, and blessed to be able to help the members with their trials in their lives.
Let us not put off praying and asking for help getting through challenges in our lives. The Lord is there, waiting for us to ask for help- “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

American Indians in Nottingham’s Old Market Square?! Someone must have their history mixed up. But no, it’s all part of a program to help teach the British people more about the Book of Mormon.
President Eldon J. Callister of the England Birmingham Mission realized that one of the biggest hindrances to missionary work in England is the misconception the people have of Mormons. “Oh yes, you have more than one wife and think it wicked to drink tea” is what missionaries hear when they ask the question, “What do you know about the Mormon church?”
The Book of Mormon is one of the greatest tools for missionary work, so in order to help people become interested, President Callister assigned two elders to produce an entertaining and educational show that could be used to teach about the Lamanite people. Within the mission was an elder with considerable experience with Indian dances and customs, Elder Kim Larson. Another elder, Tom Spencer, who had theatrical experience was assigned to help with the program, and the two elders wrote “Ancient America Speaks.”
Elder Larson sent for his handmade Kiowa Dance costume, which he had used in the U.S. while performing with the Koshare (pronounced co-shar-ee) Indian dancers of LaJunta, Colorado. Elder Spencer sat down and began to write. Their production showed the modern American Indian in his rightful position as a descendant of a once-Christian people. They tell about the legends and dances that illustrate how the Indians changed their form of worship from Christianity to those of a more pagan nature.
During their first year of performances, the elders danced and spoke before thousands. During the summer months they performed in town fairs and carnivals. Open houses were held in all of the four stakes within the mission boundaries. Countless shopping centers, market squares, town centers, and colleges were the stages for the tom-toms and storytelling. A slightly modified program was written for public schools. More than 100 schools were visited, which resulted in a good feeling toward the Church. Many have asked for the program to return next year.
The program has been such a success in introducing the British to the gospel that two more elders were assigned to carry on the presentations after Elders Larson and Spencer were released.
The elders have appeared on TV twice, and newspaper articles have continued to be published. The British find the American Indian story interesting, but it’s the gospel story they learn that really affects them. The Indian program seems to make it easier for many to want to learn more. So for these Indian-missionaries there are no reservations concerning missionary work.

“When I was growing up, I had a great bishop, Bishop William F. Perschon of the Fourth Ward, one of the oldest wards in Salt Lake City. My twelfth birthday fell on a Sunday, and Bishop Perschon called me to the stand during sacrament meeting and told the congregation that I had been interviewed and was worthy to be ordained a deacon. After I was sustained, he announced, ‘We’d like to ordain him right now.’ He got a chair, and the stake president, who was there, ordained me a deacon in front of the whole ward!”

Imagine my surprise when later, as I was preparing family history stories, I discovered that some of my mother’s mostly German ancestors and my father’s Scotch-Irish ancestors had played the mountain dulcimer! I was amazed that, generations later, I had discovered the instrument and had been teaching my grandchildren how to play it! What a wonderful musical connection between me and my ancestors and descendants! I am grateful for family history work, which has helped me appreciate my ancestors and feel a connection with them through the sweet sound of the mountain dulcimer.

I love to read my own grandfather’s missionary journal. His first entries are classics. He wrote: “Today I married in the Salt Lake Temple the girl of my dreams.” The very next night the journal entry read: “Tonight the bishop called at our house. I have been asked to return to Scandinavia for a two- year mission. Of course I will go, and my sweet wife will remain at home and sustain me.” I am grateful for a missionary heritage.

When Eli Herring was little, he would sometimes try to be sneaky and watch Sunday professional football on television. He didn’t know much about the game, but he knew he liked it. He liked it so much that each week when his class at school would go to the library, he would check out books about football players. He knew they were big and strong, he knew he wanted to be one, and he knew that they played most of their games on Sunday. And he wanted to watch some football.
One Sunday when he had the television on, he suddenly noticed his father looming in the doorway. Eli promptly forgot about the game. His father wasn’t angry, but he sure looked disappointed. Brother Herring simply said, “Turn it off,” and Eli did. He never watched football on Sunday again.