Gospel Story Finder

Mandy dropped her book beneath the tree and excitedly ran to the fence. Next door a moving van had just pulled up at the curb.
Mandy watched closely as two men began to unload the van. Crossing her fingers, she wished very hard. The new neighbors just had to have a girl her age! All the other neighborhood kids were either older or younger than she was. It would be wonderful to have a friend her own age to talk to.
As Mandy stood watching and wishing, a car pulled up behind the moving van. A man and woman climbed out—and a girl just Mandy’s size!
“Hello!” Mandy called out.
The girl didn’t answer.
“Hello, there!” Mandy called again, waving her hand.
The parents were busy talking to the moving men, and the new girl was just staring at the house. She didn’t turn around.
Mandy choked back her disappointment as the girl followed her parents into the house. With a sigh, Mandy flopped under the tree again and tried to read her book. She couldn’t concentrate, though. She was too busy watching to see if the new girl would come back outside.
It wasn’t until the moving van was nearly empty that the neighbors reappeared. Mandy ran to the fence and tried again. “Hello!” she called out loudly.
The new girl still didn’t turn around. Her mother heard, though. She gestured to her daughter and pointed to Mandy. The girl turned and smiled.
Now that’s better. She must have been too busy thinking about something to hear me before, Mandy decided.
“My name’s Mandy. What’s yours?”
The new girl didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and wiggled her fingers at her mother. The mother nodded, and they both walked over to the fence where Mandy stood.
“Hello, Mandy. I’m Mrs. Henderson, and this is Carol.”
“Hello, Carol.”
Carol smiled shyly but still didn’t say anything.
“Please forgive Carol for not speaking to you,” continued Mrs. Henderson. “She was born deaf. Because she can’t hear, she can’t speak well enough for you to understand her. But I know she’d like to be your friend.”
Mr. Henderson called to his wife, and she hurried back to the moving van. Carol stayed by the fence and continued to smile at Mandy, but her eyes were looking all over the yard.
Mandy could feel her face turning hot with embarrassment. Now what do I do? she worried. How can I be friends with someone who can’t hear or speak? Carol and I can’t just sit and smile at each other all day.
Suddenly Carol turned and ran to her father. She made motions with her fingers and hands. Smiling fondly at her, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a little card, and gave it to her. When Carol ran back to the fence, she pointed to the gate and looked at Mandy questioningly.
“You want to come in?” asked Mandy. Then she thought, How dumb, talking to her like that. She can’t hear me.
But Carol was looking closely at Mandy and understood what Mandy had said. She nodded her head.
Mandy nodded back and watched while Carol ran to the gate and let herself in.
Carol went quickly to the tree and picked up Mandy’s book. She motioned for Mandy to join her.
Mandy wasn’t quite sure what to do, but Carol patted the ground beside her, so Mandy plopped down and leaned against the tree trunk while Carol opened the book. Then she thrust the little card into Mandy’s hand.
The card had a heading that read “Manual Alphabet.” Mandy knew that manual meant hand. A hand alphabet? she wondered. On the card were printed all the letters of the alphabet. Above each letter was a picture of a hand formed into a different shape.
Carol pointed to the word tree in Mandy’s book. Then she made her hand into a first and stuck her thumb up between the first and second fingers. She pointed to the letter T on Mandy’s card. Then she raised her first and second fingers into the air and crossed them.
Mandy looked at the card. Yes, that looked like an R.
Next Carol made another fist, only this time the thumb stretched below the tips of all four fingers.
“An E!” cried Mandy excitedly.
Carol smiled and nodded her head. In a strange-sounding voice she said something that sounded almost like “yes.”
Carol pointed to the word tree in the book again, then patted the tree they were leaning against. She raised her right arm in the air with all the fingers extended. Next she rested her right elbow on the back of her left hand.
“Tree?” asked Mandy.
Carol watched Mandy’s face carefully and nodded again.
Mandy grabbed the book and pointed to another word. When Carol spelled it with her fingers this time, Mandy imitated her. Then Carol made the sign that stood for the whole word. Every word could be spelled out, and many words had special signs of their own as well. Ideas, too, were communicated by using signs. Mandy tried to imitate the word sign.
Carol started to giggle, then Mandy giggled too. They laughed so hard that they both fell backward and bumped their heads against the tree.
O-u-c-h, spelled Mandy.
Tears of laughter rolled down Carol’s cheeks.
This is going to be fun, thought Mandy. She studied the manual alphabet card carefully. Then she pointed to Carol and spelled f-r-i-e-n-d.

Luke’s feet pounded the ground. He looked over his shoulder. His brother, Robert, was catching up with him!
“Tag! You’re it!” Robert said.
Luke giggled. He chased after his older sister, Mili.
After the game, everyone sat down to rest.
“What can we play now?” Mili asked.
Luke was glad he had siblings to play with. But COVID-19 had changed a lot of things. They couldn’t go to places with lots of people. And sometimes they weren’t even allowed to be outside.
Luke tried to think of a game they could play. Then he thought of something he had heard in Primary.
“I think we should do something to be prepared,” Luke said.
“What do you mean?” Mili asked.
Luke looked at the guava trees around their house. “The prophet said we should never stop preparing. Maybe we can collect firewood today. We can make it a game to see who can get the most!”
Luke and his siblings raced to the trees near their house. Luke piled sticks in his arms and ran back to stack his wood in the shed. When his siblings got there, he helped them stack up their wood too. They ran back and forth until they’d collected a huge pile.
“This is enough to cook with for a whole week!” Mili said.
“That was fun,” Robert said. “I like being prepared!”
“Me too,” Luke said. He wanted to do something else to be prepared.
Next he and his brother and sister planted bele (a green vegetable) in their garden. Luke cut the stems from old plants so they could plant them and grow more.
While they worked, their grandparents and parents came outside.
“Did you plant bele on your own?” Grandpa asked.
“Yes,” Luke said. “And we got firewood too!”
“Thank you,” said Dad. “I was really busy today. I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”
That afternoon, Luke sat inside with his family. They heard an announcement on the radio that everyone would have to stay inside for four days to stop COVID-19 from spreading. Nobody was allowed to leave their home.
“It’s good we collected firewood today. We wouldn’t be able to now,” said Mili.
Luke smiled. He was happy they had followed the prophet’s invitation to be prepared.
This story took place in Fiji.

One summer our young family traveled 2,000 miles (3,200 km) across the country for my husband’s new job. We were excited for our new adventure, but we felt very far from our home, our families, and everything else we knew. We pulled up to our new home during a downpour, and in an attempt to protect our home’s newly laid carpet, we unloaded the truck with umbrellas overhead and sheets underfoot. We knew that heavy rains had been causing basements to flood, and we nervously kept an eye on ours after everything was unloaded.
All seemed well that night, and with our three young children finally asleep, Greg and I hurriedly made our bed. We were both exhausted, and falling into bed sounded so good. For some reason, though, Greg felt that he should unpack another box.
“Please,” I said, “let’s just go to sleep. We can unpack in the morning.”
He shook his head and headed to the basement. After a few moments, I heard him scream. Panicked, I ran to the basement only to be met by a miniature flash flood. We stood there shoulder to shoulder as cold rainwater began pooling around our ankles. Instantly we snapped into action and began dragging box after box up the steep staircase. I felt completely and hopelessly lost, my tears mixing with the floodwater on the floor.
I called the only member of the Church we knew in our new ward, Brother Lindsay Sewell, to ask for instructions on running our sump pump to drain the water. Brother Sewell gave some quick advice, and then I went back to work trying to save our belongings. At midnight, the doorbell rang. Pulling the door open, I was met by Brother Sewell, his arms laden with a fan, a wet vacuum, and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies.
“Sounds like you guys could use some help,” he said with a bright smile. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so far from home.
All through the night, Brother Sewell stayed with us, trying to conquer the flood. When the water level in the basement rose to more than a foot (30 cm) deep, he suggested that we call the fire department; they brought large pumps that eventually solved the problem.
The next morning Sister Sewell and other members of our new ward arrived with food, extension cords, and more vacuums. We were overwhelmed by their goodness. In the end we saved all of our belongings.
I am so grateful to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. No matter where I go, I have brothers and sisters waiting with open arms to welcome my family and to help in times of need.

Fast forward a decade. I was married and had three children when I got ahold of the family candle time binder. I could hardly contain my excitement to recreate the sacred and sweet memories of my childhood. However, the first night of candle time was a disaster. Pillow fights, scuffles over personal space, and bickering among my children resulted in the candle falling over and spilling melted wax on our carpet. This wasn’t how I remembered candle time!
My husband and I reflected on our family situation and talked about ways to help my childhood tradition become our family’s tradition. We learned that a family tradition must be realistic, unique, flexible, and viewed as an opportunity rather than an obligation. Identifying the purpose behind the practice increased our potential for peace and joy. Reframing my view of candle time and letting go of a set ideal helped me claim joy rather than guilt. I now look forward to our candle time, and my children love it as well.

Many years ago in one of the courtrooms of Utah, a divorce case was called for a hearing. One of the participating attorneys, indignant and incensed, took the witness stand to bring before the court the fact that just the night before, the husband and the wife had reconciled their differences. He urged that because of the reconciliation, his adversary was unprincipled, unfair, and unethical in now coming into court.

The judge turned to the other attorney and asked him if he were going to take the witness stand to refute the allegations against his character. The defamed attorney, a wise and experienced counselor, said: “Oh, no, your honor. I’m not going to take the witness stand. He might be able to prove all those allegations against me.” The courtroom broke into laughter, the tension was broken, and things quickly were put into proper place.

One of the most serious deterrents to any success is that we spend too much time practicing those things that we don’t want to be. We might learn a great many important lessons from the story told many years ago by Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick entitled “On the Wrong Bus.” It tells of a man who got on a bus with the intention and desire of going to Detroit. But when he arrived at the end of a long trip, he found himself in Kansas City. At first he would not believe it. When he asked for Woodward Avenue and was told there was no Woodward Avenue, he was indignant—he knew there was. It was some time before he could face the fact that in spite of his good intentions and his earnest desire, he was not in Detroit at all but in Kansas City. Everything was fine except for one little detail; he had just caught the wrong bus.

Although Grant Heaton, president of the newly opened Southern Far East Mission, was merely looking for advice about teakwood furniture that August day in 1955, he found much more than that in Ng Kat Hing. He found a language teacher, a convert, a missionary, a Church leader—a true pioneer.
Reaching out to people has always been one of Brother Ng’s talents. In fact, it was his willingness to serve others that put him in even closer contact with the missionaries. After ordering furniture for the mission home, Brother Ng agreed to help President Heaton find someone to teach Cantonese to the missionaries. He talked to several friends, but none of them could help. So he quit his job at the furniture store and taught the missionaries himself. Married and the father of four young children, Brother Ng took a cut in salary with the job change. But he believes it was well worth it.
“I learned the truth,” Brother Ng states simply. “That was a good deal, right? Nothing is more important than that.”
The men took turns learning and teaching. Brother Ng presented basic language lessons, and the missionaries taught gospel discussions. At that time, investigators were taught a total of 18 discussions, so Brother Ng went through several sets of missionaries before hearing all the lessons.
“It took quite a while,” he acknowledges, “but by the time I was baptized, all my questions were answered. I had a strong foundation and a strong testimony.”
Brother Ng was baptized on 31 May 1956. He was one of the first converts after missionary work resumed in Hong Kong following the Korean War.

Last Saturday was Mommy’s day off. Daddy and I got up early and made her breakfast. We brought it to her in bed. Boy, was she surprised!
Daddy made her hot cereal with peaches because that’s her favorite.
I poured her some orange juice and put a muffin on a small plate.
Daddy put everything on a tray. Then we added a flower in a vase, and a card we’d made that said: Happy Day Off!
Mommy was so happy! She said that it was the best breakfast she’d ever had.
After she ate breakfast and got dressed, Daddy and I told her the rules: 1. No housecleaning. 2. No cooking. 3. No laundry. 4. No worrying about anything. Mommy said she liked those rules.
She sat on the couch, reading a book, while Daddy and I cleaned the house. Daddy put the dishes in the dishwasher, and I vacuumed the carpet. Then I dusted the furniture, and Daddy swept the kitchen floor. It was hard work, but it was fun, too! I like doing things for Mommy. She always does things for Daddy and me.
Mommy took a nice, long bubble bath while Daddy and I made lunch. She said that it had been so long since she had taken a bubble bath that she had almost forgotten what it felt like. I told her that she could use my bubble bath anytime she wants to.
After lunch, Mommy went shopping for a new dress. While she was gone, we did the laundry. Mommy said it was the best laundry job she’d ever seen.
After that, Mommy listened to music and took a nap. Then we took her out to dinner. She wore her new dress, and she looked beautiful!
Mommy gave us both a hug and a kiss. She said it was the nicest day off ever! She said thank you and told us how much she loves us. I am glad we gave Mommy a day off. It was fun, and it made her happy. We love her very much. She’s the best Mommy in the world!

On a cool, misty morning in northeastern Tongatapu, the main island in Tonga, Filimone Tufui Pasi dresses for a day “in the bush”—the Tongan expression referring to working on his farming plot. To get there he will pass through the swampy land surrounding his cinder-block home and then walk beneath the tall coconut trees and among the broad-leaf taro plants.
On this day, however, President Pasi, a counselor in the stake presidency, never makes it to the bush. Members of the Church have come seeking his assistance. A humble man of few words, President Pasi nods quietly, walks back inside his home, and explains the situation to his wife, Ana Malina. She and their daughter will spend this day making tapa cloth to raise money for school and sending the Pasis’ children on missions.
Within a few minutes President Pasi returns to the group, now dressed in a white shirt and tie, prepared to help. The decision will cost him a full day of his livelihood. But the smile of satisfaction on his face, knowing he is doing the Lord’s work, makes up the difference. “I’ve tried to live my life this way,” he says. “I think that’s why the Lord has blessed me so much.”

I remember a grandmother who had been widowed early in her life and was moving out of her home. Her granddaughter, about to be married herself, was carefully helping her pack the boxes of dishes and the faded towels. “See that sewing machine over there in the corner?” the grandmother asked. “Your grandfather always left his hat there when he came home in the evening. I used to scold him all the time about it. ‘Just put your hat on the hook,’ I’d say. ‘Why does your hat always have to be on the sewing machine messing everything up?’ Then one day he got pneumonia and died, leaving four little children and me to miss him for a lifetime. How many times through the years I’ve thought, What I’d give to see that hat on the sewing machine, placed there by his own hand!”

Later, as 18-year-old Moisés prepared for his mission, his family continued to face temporal challenges. He doubted his decision to leave and told his mother he wanted to stay home to help her.
“If you really want to help me,” she told him, “go and serve the Lord.”
Kneeling by his cot at the close of his first day in the Mexico Hermosillo Mission, Moisés felt that the Lord was pleased with his decision. He credits his mission for the growth of his testimony of the restored gospel.

The summer before my senior year in high school, I decided to participate in my hometown’s Olympic-length triathlon. I had always been a runner, so the 10 kilometer run portion didn’t worry me too much. And I liked cycling, even though 40 kilometers seemed like a long time to be on a bike. What I was really concerned about was the 1.5-kilometer swim, but as I trained over the summer, I became more confident in all three events.
The night before the race my dad helped me set up my swim-to-bike transition. We made sure everything was placed just right, so I could get to biking as quickly as possible after I got out of the water.
At 7:00 the next morning, I jumped into the cold river to begin the race. In less than 30 minutes I was out of the water and getting ready to begin the bike course.
Thousands of people were competing, and even more people were there to cheer the racers on. I knew my family members and friends were along the course somewhere, but I didn’t know where, and I didn’t think I could pick their voices out of the large cheering crowd surrounding the transition zone. Just as I was about to hop on my bike, a voice cut through the noise.
“Heather, the chain is off your bike. Heather, put your chain back on. The chain is off your bike.”
It was different from all the other voices that were yelling and cheering the triathletes on. That voice stood out to me because I knew and trusted that voice. It was the voice of my high school cross-country coach. I looked down, and sure enough, my chain was off. I quickly put it back on and began riding. A few hours later I had successfully completed my first Olympic-length triathlon.
Had I not heard my coach, I would have figured out pretty quickly that the chain was off my bike. But I probably would have figured it out with my right foot clipped into my pedal pushing down hard to get my momentum going. Without the anticipated resistance from my chain plus my predisposition to being accident prone, I most likely would have fallen over onto the pavement. It wouldn’t be a race-ending or even a serious injury, but I would have had a skinned-up knee and elbow, along with a big hole poked in my confidence. I was grateful for my coach.
That day on the triathlon course, my parents were at the race supporting me, but they couldn’t be everywhere. I needed help from someone else, in this case my coach, who saw what I didn’t notice. The Spirit can be that someone for us wherever and whenever we are worthy and willing to listen. And if we listen and obey, we will successfully “run … the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).

Shawn stared at the cracked picture frame lying on the floor. He knew that he shouldn’t have been tossing his football in the house. He certainly hadn’t meant for the ball to hit the picture of Grandma and Grandpa and knock it off the table.
Mother was going to be upset when she saw it. She always dusted the frame carefully and placed it carefully on the table. It was a very special picture to her. Grandma had given it to her when Grandpa died. Grandpa had made the frame himself. The more Shawn thought about what he’d done, the worse he felt.
He put the frame back on the table, stood back, and squinted. He could still see the ugly black line running through the carved side of the frame. He knew that it wasn’t possible, but the line seemed to be growing bigger and blacker.
No one had seen him kick the ball or break the frame. No one else knew he had broken the family’s rule about playing ball in the house. Only he knew how the frame had been broken. But he did know—and Heavenly Father knew too.
Shawn could hear Mother out in the garden, pulling weeds and singing. “She won’t be singing when she sees this,” he said to himself.
He knew what he should do, but he didn’t want to make Mother unhappy.
He liked to hear her sing. He liked to see her smile and hear her happy voice. Shawn knew that when she found out what he had done, she wouldn’t be singing or smiling or saying happy words.
“I guess I’d better get it over with,” he said to himself as he walked through the house and out the back door to the garden. “Mom, can we talk about something?”
“Sure. What’s up. Shawn?”
He hung his head. “I don’t think you are going to like me very much any more. I did something awful.”
She pulled him down to sit by her in the garden. “What ever you have done, Shawn, I will still love you. Remember how we talked about Heavenly Father’s love for us? He loves us even when he doesn’t love the thing we have done. That is how I love you. Now tell me about what you did.”
Shawn began to tell her about the picture frame and the football. His voice shook and tears rolled down his cheeks as he told his mother how sorry he was for not obeying the rules and for breaking the frame. “Maybe I could earn some money and pay for a new frame,” he offered.
“Let’s go in and see just how bad it is.” After looking at it, she said, “Shawn, I think we can mend this with some glue.”
Shawn ran to get the glue while Mother slipped the picture out of the frame. Together they glued the crack securely. When it was dry, Mother put the picture back in the frame and placed it on the table. “There,” she said. “It’s fixed.”
Shawn stared at the frame. Even with the pieces glued together, the ugly black crack stretched across one side of the frame. How could Mother say it was fixed? “It looks terrible!” he groaned.
Shawn’s mother put her arms around him. “Not to me,” she said gently. “To me it looks wonderful. When I look at the picture, I think of your grandma and grandpa and how much I love them. When I look at the frame, I think especially of Grandpa and all the great times we had together. And when I look at the crack in the frame, I think about a son who told the truth even when it was hard—and that’s the best treasure in the whole world!”

Perhaps I can illustrate how understanding the Father’s plan and the Savior’s divine mission empowers us to face life’s challenges.
In the summer of 2020, I started feeling pain in my left shoulder, and I could not figure out why. The pain wouldn’t go away, so finally, in late October, I visited with a doctor. He looked at an X-ray and suggested a CT scan. The next evening, the doctor called me at home—likely not a good sign—and told me that the CT scan had identified metastatic disease in my shoulder. In other words, he said I had cancer. He also said it appeared to have traveled to my shoulder from somewhere else in my body.
I got up from my chair, walked into the other room, and told Anne Marie I had cancer. That evening, our lives changed. Everything seemed to change.
I reached out to my father and asked if he would give me a blessing. He is 95 years old. We gathered as a family at my parents’ home. All our children joined us. It was a miracle that they were all in town. We were careful to wear our masks, except for in this picture.
Photograph by Busath Photography
I had hoped that, in the blessing, my father would strike the spot and command the cancer to be gone. But that is not the blessing he provided. He blessed me that the cancer would be identified, that there would be a course of treatment, that I would follow the course of treatment, and that I would be made whole.
From the moment he and my sons took their hands off my head, a feeling of peace settled on me. I knew that peaceful feeling came by the influence of the Holy Ghost.
For the next month, medically speaking, I could not see past the end of my feet. I knew I had cancer in my shoulder and in at least one other place in my body. I did not know what kind of cancer it was or how pervasive it was. I just did not know very much at all.
But this I did know: my father, accompanied by my four sons, had pronounced a blessing upon me by the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood. I had great faith in the power of that blessing. I also had faith that the blessing was in keeping with the Lord’s will.
Throughout the month of November, the medical tests continued. As we waited for the results, Anne Marie and I talked a lot about the future and our faith in our Heavenly Father’s plan. We discussed the possibility that perhaps my stay in mortality would be a bit shorter than anticipated. But regardless of which side of the veil I would be on, it did not change our love for each other or our marriage or our family. It did not change our gratitude to Heavenly Father for the gift of His Son, Jesus Christ, and for the blessing of participating in this wonderful mortal experience.
In our prayers as a couple, we prayed that my life would be spared. But if the plan was that I be called home at this time, we would accept that as well. I also prayed that I could learn what the Lord wanted me to learn from this experience. I remembered Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles saying on one occasion that the Lord gave him cancer so he could teach the people with authenticity. 1 I continue to ponder that.
As we waited for the diagnosis, I continued to feel at peace. I was very grateful for my father’s blessing. Spiritually speaking, he did strike the spot and make me whole. He healed me spiritually.
During all this, I felt the faith and prayers of friends, family, and loved ones. It is quite something to realize that your children, their spouses, and your grandchildren are praying for you with great faith. The missionaries and the Saints with whom we served in the Spain Barcelona Mission are also exercising their faith and prayers in my behalf. What greater blessings could there be? These prayers of faith and support from so many have created a giant tsunami of love that has been overwhelming to me.
At last, the diagnosis came. I have cancer in my right kidney, which has metastasized to my left shoulder. The cancer had already been in my shoulder for a year or so and therefore even longer in my kidney. For some reason, unknown to me, there is no cancer in my brain or lungs. The Lord is very kind. There is a course of treatment, I am following it, and I trust that in a year or so I will be made whole. “But if not” (Daniel 3:18), I am willing to accept the Lord’s will for me.
Now, I am not the only one with health challenges or worries or heartaches of different kinds. Like you, I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Like you, I have faith in Heavenly Father’s plan. And like you, I have faith that “all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another” (Doctrine and Covenants 90:24).
Our faith does not necessarily remove our trials. But it does give us the power and perspective to navigate those trials successfully.
Our Savior, who is our example in all things, has taught us how to endure adversity faithfully. Most poignant is His experience in Gethsemane:
“And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,
“Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.
“And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him” (Luke 22:41–43; emphasis added).
The Father didn’t remove this cup of suffering, but He also didn’t forsake His Beloved Son. He sent an angel to strengthen Him, and with that strength the Savior was able to carry out the infinite Atonement.
Likewise, when we face challenges, the Father does not always remove the burden, but when we submit to His will, we can count on Him to give us strength equal to the challenge.
I testify of Jesus Christ, the true source of lasting peace (see John 16:33). Because He overcame the world, He provides the strength for us to meet every trial the world can give us. He provides eternal perspective through His restored gospel and comfort through the influence of the Holy Ghost. Indeed, the gospel of Jesus Christ is the answer to every issue we face in life.
“Peace I leave with you,” the Savior said, “my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).
You can submit your own article, ideas, or feedback at liahona.ChurchofJesusChrist.org. We can’t wait to hear from you!

In many parts of Jamaica, students like me have to take an exam to get into the high school they want. My friends and I studied hard so we could all get into the best high school. When I started to doubt I could do it, my mom always encouraged me. She reminded me that I’m one of Heavenly Father’s children and that He will help me to go on the right path.
When my exam results came back, I got the highest grade I could get! I was so excited because that meant I could be with all my friends!
But I soon found out that one of my friends didn’t score high enough. We were all so sad she couldn’t come with us. But I found joy in remembering what my mom had taught me. My friend was also a wonderful daughter of Heavenly Father, and He would help her too, no matter the test scores.
My excitement faded when my friend started telling everyone that I didn’t deserve to get into that high school—that she should have gotten in instead. Most of my friends took her side and stopped hanging out with me. I started to doubt myself. Did I really deserve to get in?
I thought back to what my mom taught me: that I’m a unique child in Heavenly Father’s image.
I’m now at the new school, and I made new friends. They support me and remind me of my worth. I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter what other people say about me. I’m happy when I’m trying to be who God wants me to be—because that’s who I want to be.
The author lives in Jamaica.

Michael slung his backpack over his shoulder. It was the first day of school, and he couldn’t wait! He and his family lived in India. Many children in his city couldn’t go to school. Michael was grateful he had the opportunity to learn.
He liked learning—especially mathematics. He also loved reading magazines. He turned the colorful pages. He read about different animals and places around the world.
One day Michael read a different kind of magazine. It was from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Michael loved reading it. He wanted to learn more.
Michael had gone to other churches before. He liked learning about Jesus. But sometimes he felt confused. Which church was the true church?
Later, he read a booklet about the prophet Joseph Smith. He felt something special as he read it. Joseph Smith had also gone to different churches too searching for the truth. Maybe I’m like Joseph, Michael thought.
Michael wanted to go to this new church to see what it was like. But there were no Latter-day Saint churches in India. Michael was disappointed. He kept learning all he could. He read the Book of Mormon and prayed. He knew it was true! He wanted to be baptized. But he would have to wait.
Years passed. When Michael was 21, a senior missionary couple came to India. Finally, Michael was baptized! Soon he was able to serve a mission of his own in Utah, USA.
More years passed. One day a friend called him. The Church was looking for people to help translate general conference for people in India. Michael was nervous at first. But he was happy to help.
One October afternoon Michael was translating a talk by President Nelson in general conference. He heard the prophet announce that a temple would be built in India! Michael wanted to shout for joy. He cried happy tears.
Michael was grateful for all he had learned at school. But most of all, he was grateful he had learned about the gospel of Jesus Christ. He was happy more people in his country could learn about Him too!
Today, Michael helps translate general conference for people in India.

“My Young Women leaders had challenged me to finish reading the Book of Mormon by November,” says Sierra Hoffman, a Mia Maid from Albany, Oregon. “I was in the middle of it when President Hinckley gave the challenge to all members to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year.”
She could have simply finished from where she was. And she did. Then, after completing her leaders’ challenge, Sierra turned back to 1 Nephi in late November and started reading again—this time to meet President Hinckley’s reading challenge. She read each night, sometimes for several hours.
“The spirit that filled my room and my heart as I read was amazing!” she says. “Passages that I had never noticed before stood out and touched me deeply. Verses that had confused me before made sense. Tears would fill my eyes as I read about the Savior visiting the Americas.”
Sierra also noticed a change in her 10-year-old brother as he, too, began reading from the Book of Mormon daily. He became more loving, kind, and respectful. Just as President Hinckley promised when he made the challenge, there was a greater feeling of the Spirit of the Lord in the Hoffman family’s home.

Eritai Kateibwi is making life better for the people of his homeland of Kiribati.
“People on my island have a strong bond to each other,” he explains. “The word ‘family’ is very important, and it drives me to help my own people.”
Eritai learned about hydroponic sustainability while attending Brigham Young University–Hawaii. He spent hundreds of hours developing that idea into a solution to take to his people.
In 2017, he returned to Kiribati and introduced innovative hydroponic gardening to families and communities in response to the challenges faced in accessing healthier food options. He explained that “it provided a healthy alternative to the processed foods that people were eating.”
Although Eritai continues to work on developing a sustainable hydroponics model on his home island, Marakei, his primary focus changed from hydroponics to construction with the mentorship and support of Jeff and Judy Brock.
They were serving as humanitarian missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Judy said, “Jeff loaded him up with tools and now Eritai is their go-to for all things construction.”
Her description of Eritai fits perfectly for the path his life has taken: “Eritai is now a leading local contractor and is working miracles,” she says.
Eritai says he feels happy and accomplished after overseeing the construction of a solar-powered Church building and missionary housing in Tabonibara, North Tarawa.
“I have never done anything as critical as this,” Eritai explained.
He told of answers to many prayers during the construction. He found it remarkable the way “every detail of the plans came together, and they were able to finish it so quickly despite setbacks with construction and weather.”
He is also working on a desalination project which is funded by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints working in collaboration with the government of Kiribati and the SUEZ Group.
“The mentorship provided by Elder and Sister Brock came full circle, as some years later they became project managers for the national desalination project,” says Ruth Cross, welfare and self-reliance manager for the Church in Kiribati and local coordinator for the desalination project.
“Eritai Kateibwi is a great example of hard work and determination built upon faith in God,” Cross continues. “Eritai’s deep sense of commitment propels the urgency of a shared vision to help people.”

When the missionaries first contacted her family, Aritaake would run away—or chase the missionaries away. “Our minister told us there would be false prophets, and we thought that was them,” she remembers. “But one time an elder by the name of Jones came to visit us. When I turned him away, he stood outside the house and prayed for us. While he was praying, I felt something in my heart change. I asked the missionaries to forgive me and teach my family.
“One thing the elders did changed me completely. They asked me to pray. When I said my prayer, I became a different person. I started liking the Church, and it was no problem believing the Church’s teachings.”
What impressed her most in all the missionaries taught? “The Spirit they brought. And the teachings about the family—how we can be happy as a family and remain together forever.”

Then one day my sister came to visit with her two beautiful little daughters. It was one month before my 24th birthday. Time was running out, and I knew I needed to decide what I was going to do with my life. That day one of my nieces fell asleep in my arms. As I watched her sleep I realized that someday I would have children and they would ask me, “Daddy, why didn’t you go on a mission?” At that moment I made my decision.
My decision was not easy for my mother to accept. She and my father were separated, and I was the only child at home with her. Still, I knew that what I was doing was right, so I filled out my papers and sent them in. When my call to serve in the Honduras Comayaguela Mission came, my mother was so upset she became ill. But in time, she began to accept my decision, and she even helped me prepare to leave.
On the day I left for the Missionary Training Center, I gave my mother a priesthood blessing. And as I served I began to understand the Lord’s promise: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say” (D&C 82:10). How great was my joy when the calling I had so long dreamed of holding was finally mine—that of full-time representative of the Lord and His Church. How great was my joy when one year into my mission I received word that my mother had accepted the truth and had been baptized. How grateful I am that I took a leap of faith.