Gospel Story Finder

The Holy Ghost can help us in every part of our lives. I learned this in a practical way when I was a college student at Brigham Young University–Hawaii.
At the time, I was working and taking a full schedule of classes. My wife and I also had a small baby to care for. With all these demands on my schedule, I didn’t have much time for studying. I prayed every day for the companionship of Holy Ghost. I needed guidance to help me make the most of my time. I needed assistance understanding the material as well as remembering it later during exams.
One day during class, a professor was writing sets of advanced equations on the whiteboard to illustrate a point. These complex equations didn’t relate to that class, but he wanted to talk about them briefly. After a few minutes the professor erased the board.
My next class was computer science, and we had an exam that day. Those exact equations from the board in my previous class were on the test! What’s truly remarkable is that we had never studied these before in our computer science class. All that memory came back to me from the other class I had attended, and I was able to answer the problem.
When the computer science professor graded the tests, he was so sure nobody answered that specific problem correctly that he automatically marked it wrong for every student. But when I got my paper back, I showed him that the answer I wrote on the paper was correct. It was wonderful.
The Holy Ghost helped me make the most of all my studying opportunities throughout college. I was able to achieve high grades and earn scholarships, which helped me pay for school.

On December 4, 1986, two American missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on the door of my father’s house. Although Father let the missionaries visit regularly, he was never interested in the message. A few months later he divorced Mother and remarried.

When Father informed the missionaries of the sad news of our broken family, he also told them not to come back.

The missionaries left a copy of the Book of Mormon with the address of the nearest church written on the inside cover and said, “We will always be your friends. If there is anything we can do for your family, come to this address, and you will find us there.”

Saying good-bye to the missionaries that evening was difficult, for I had felt something precious in their message.

Stepmother moved in. She and Father became cruel, life became hard, and I became a cynical teenager.

One night, when I could take their horrible treatment no longer, I dashed out the door in fear and hid in the rice fields, lonely, depressed, and hopeless. I wanted to run away, but I had nowhere to go.

Suddenly I remembered what the elders had said during their last visit. “First thing tomorrow, I am going back to find my friends!” I told myself, feeling a sense of inner peace for the first time in years.

Early the next morning I hopped on my bike and went downtown to the church, but the elders who had visited my family a couple of years before had returned home. Just when I was about to give up, two friendly ladies with the familiar black name tags on their coats approached me and introduced themselves.

A month after I met the sister missionaries, I was baptized, in November 1988, the first convert in my family.

The handsome American youth had only been in Czechoslovakia for a few weeks. With absolutely no language training he had come to preach the gospel to the Czech people in their own tongue. Now the time had arrived to preach his first sermon to a group of Saints and interested investigators. His experienced companion had labored diligently to help him write his speech and had also provided a phonetic guide to aid in the pronunciation of this very difficult language. Now he must face the congregation alone.

When the young man began to speak the senior companion suffered in silence as his youthful counterpart proceeded to violate every grammatical rule in the entire Czech language. However, all was not lost, because his pronunciation was so atrocious that few in the audience could tell what he was saying anyway.

After the meeting, the young elder felt somewhat embarrassed and disappointed until a matronly investigator approached him. With tear-stained cheeks and trembling voice she told him (through an interpreter), "I felt that everything you said was true—I’d like to be baptized." The promise in the Book of Mormon is that "when a man speaketh by the power of the Holy Ghost the power of the Holy Ghost carrieth it unto the hearts of the children of men" (2 Ne. 33:1).

It was at Dixie that Kalin was first introduced to the Church. He became friends with some Polynesian players who were returned missionaries. Kalin says, “They welcomed everybody. They were so friendly and nice. I felt comfortable around them.”
One of his new friends, Jack Damuni, tells what happened. “I was in my room doing some homework. A Catholic friend came in and started asking me questions about the Church. Kalin walked in, sat on my bed, and just listened. We were talking about the Godhead and how the Spirit lets you know if things are true, and about our purpose here on earth. Kalin wasn’t saying anything. I turned and looked at him, and he started crying. I knew what was happening.”
Of course, Kalin remembers everything about that day. “Religion had always interested me. I listened to what both of them were saying. I was really struck by a lot of things Jack said. It was a good feeling that I had.”
They were an hour late for a team meeting. The coach bawled them out for being late until they told him they had been talking about the Church and were too involved to think of anything else.
As they were walking back to the dorms, Kalin started asking more questions. “Hey, Jack, what was that I felt back there? I felt something that really touched me. It made me cry.”
Jack said, “Remember when we were talking about how the Holy Spirit lets you know when things are true? That’s what it was.”
Kalin said, “It’s a good feeling. I felt calm.”
As Kalin began taking the missionary discussions, some strange things started to happen. Jack had warned his friend that once he started reading the scriptures and became interested in the Church, people would try to convince him that the Church was wrong. It happened just as Jack said.
“People started being involved in my life who never had been before,” said Kalin. “They were telling me how racist the religion is. To me, the black and white thing has never been an issue—never has been and never will be. I can’t honestly see anyone entering the celestial kingdom if they are prejudiced. Christ said we are all his children.”
Jack Damuni baptized his friend and watched him grow and progress as he became more and more involved in the Church. Two years later, Jack was Kalin’s teammate on the Brigham Young University football team. They are still very close, like brothers. Jack has seen a big change in Kalin. “He’s focused. Everything he does is focused on the gospel.”

During the final phases of World War II, I turned eighteen and was ordained an elder one week before I departed for active duty with the navy. A member of my ward bishopric was at the train station to bid me farewell. Just before train time, he placed two books into my hands. One was a popular satire in which I took interest. The other was entitled The Missionary Handbook.

I laughed and commented, “I’m not going on a mission.”

He answered, “Take it anyway—it may come in handy.”

It did. In basic training the company commander instructed us concerning how we might best pack our clothing in a large sea bag. He advised: “If you have some hard, rectangular object you can place in the bottom, your clothes will stay more firm.”

I suddenly remembered just the right rectangular object—The Missionary Handbook. Thus it served for sixteen weeks.

The night before our Christmas leave, our thoughts were, as always, on home. The quarters were quiet. Suddenly I became aware that my buddy in the adjoining bunk, a Mormon boy, Leland Merrill, was moaning in pain. I asked, “What’s the matter, Merrill?”

He replied, “I’m sick. I’m really sick!”

I advised him to go to the base dispensary, but he knowingly answered that such a course would prevent him from being home for Christmas.

The hours lengthened. His groans grew louder. Suddenly he whispered, “Monson, Monson, aren’t you an elder?” I acknowledged this to be so, whereupon he asked, “Give me a blessing.”

Suddenly I became very much aware that I had never given a blessing, I had never received such a blessing, and I had never witnessed a blessing being given. My prayer to God was a plea for help. The answer came: “Look in the bottom of the sea bag.” Thus, at two o’clock in the morning I spilled the contents of the bag on the deck, took the book to the night light, and read how one blesses the sick. With about seventy curious sailors looking on, I gave the shakiest blessing I’ve ever given. Before I could stow my gear, Leland Merrill was sleeping like a child.

The next morning Merrill smilingly turned to me and said, “Monson, I’m glad you hold the priesthood.” His gladness was surpassed only by my joy.

On my mission I learned how to really study and feast upon the scriptures. Not only did I feel the Holy Ghost as I read, but I also started to feel joy as I searched the scriptures to find answers to my problems and those of my investigators.
After my mission, I continued to feast upon the scriptures daily. Because this practice invited the Holy Ghost into my life, I received His direction to help me use my time more efficiently. As a result, I did better in school and, later, at work. It became easier to make good decisions. I prayed more and was more diligent in fulfilling my callings. Feasting upon the scriptures daily didn’t solve all my problems, but life was easier.

Let’s hurry along to Redwood Road. There is a much larger home here where many widows reside. Most are seated in the well-lighted living room. But in her bedroom, alone, is one on whom I must call. She hasn’t spoken a word since a devastating stroke some years ago. But then, who knows what she hears?—so I speak of good times together. There isn’t a flicker of recognition, not a word spoken. In fact, an attendant asks if I am aware that this patient hasn’t uttered a word for years. It made no difference. Not only had I enjoyed my one-sided conversation with her—I had communed with God.

Last month I had the opportunity to attend the temple wedding of a young woman I have known since she was born. As I sat in the sealing room, looking at the beautiful chandelier sparkling in the light of the temple, I remembered that day when I first held her. Her mother had her dressed in a little white dress, and I thought she was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen. Then this young woman walked through the door, once again dressed in white. She was radiant and happy. As she entered the room, I wished with all my heart that every young woman could envision that moment and strive to always be worthy to make and keep sacred covenants and receive the ordinances of the temple in preparation to enjoy the blessings of exaltation.
As this couple knelt at the sacred altar, they received promises beyond mortal comprehension that will bless, strengthen, and assist them on their mortal journey. It was one of those moments when the world stood still and all of heaven rejoiced. As the newly married couple looked into the large mirrors in the room, the groom was asked what he saw. He said, “All those who have gone before me.” Then the couple looked into the large mirror on the opposite wall, and the bride said with tears in her eyes, “I see all those who will follow after us.” She saw her future family—her posterity. I know that she understood again in that moment how important it is to believe in being chaste and virtuous. There is no more beautiful sight than a couple, properly prepared, kneeling together at the altar of the temple.

During a school break when I was eight, my dad asked me if I wanted to do something to earn money for my mission. I thought it was a good idea, but I wasn’t sure what to do. After some thinking, we decided to make bread. That night, we made 20 loaves. We didn’t know if they would sell, but after we posted about it on social media, they all sold in one night!
I set a goal to keep making and selling bread. At first it was fun. But over time, to be honest, it didn’t feel as fun. It was hard! I had to wake up at six in the morning before school to make the dough. Then my mom helped bake it during the day. When I came home from school, I had to bag the loaves, deliver them, and clean the baking equipment.
I also had to talk to people I didn’t know very well. Sometimes I didn’t know what to say. That was one of the hardest parts. My parents explained that the point of this wasn’t just to earn money for my mission but also to learn to work hard and talk to people. I started to feel more comfortable. And after a while, I enjoyed doing that!
My bread business definitely taught me how to work! I know that what I learned from this goal will help me on my mission.

In 1985, Elder Russell M. Nelson asked the Czech government to officially recognize the Church. He was told that a Czech citizen had to ask. He and Elder Hans B. Ringger went to the home of Brother Snederfler and asked him if he would make the request. Despite the possibility of imprisonment—or even death—Brother Snederfler responded, “I will go. I will do it! We will do whatever is needed. This is for the Lord, and His work is more important than our freedom or life.”** The members of the Church fasted and prayed for Brother Snederfler, whom the government brought in for questioning every month after he made the request.

On February 21, 1990, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was officially recognized. The members could now worship without fear. Missionaries returned to teach the gospel to the Czech people. And Elder Russell M. Nelson went to a wooded area near Karlstejn Castle and rededicated the land to the preaching of the gospel. It was a time of great joy, especially for the Czech pioneers who saw the long journey’s end.

I remember helping my eight-year-old son make a gift for his mother. He had determined to make a key holder from a piece of board. Following the guidelines of not purchasing anything, we found an old piece of wood. It took about three times longer than normal to sand it down, as it was not a quality piece of wood.
When it came time to paint it, we realized we didn’t have a paintbrush. So we took some pieces of straw and bamboo from an old basket and made our own. I wondered whether it really would look that nice when finished, but to our surprise, the bamboo and straw together worked as well as any paintbrush I had ever used.
I wanted to buy the hooks needed to hold the keys, but my son reminded me that we couldn’t do that. We ended up using some headless nails that we patiently shaped with great love and dedication. They were shaped into hooks as beautiful as any that we could have purchased at a store. When it was all finished, it was a gift from our hearts to Mom.

When I was baptized in 1977 at the age of 10, my mother, with 8 children, was separated from my father, and we had many needs, both temporal and spiritual. The sisters of that small branch in the city of Oaxaca, Mexico, were faithful in visiting my mother to minister to her. These sisters lightened the burdens of my mother and the entire family in many ways; they were a great blessing in our lives.

When we moved to the United States, great trials began for me. We attended a small branch and I had great leaders who wanted to help me, but my school friends tried to pull me off the gospel path. Unfortunately, I began to speak to my mother in an unkind way and rarely listened to her counsel.
I would go to church every Sunday, but I really didn’t have the desire to go, and I didn’t know if I wanted to go on a mission anymore.
One morning I opened the Book of Mormon, and it opened exactly to the page of my favorite scripture, 3 Nephi 12:14–16:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, I give unto you to be the light of this people. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.
“Behold, do men light a candle and put it under a bushel? Nay, but on a candlestick, and it giveth light to all that are in the house;
“Therefore let your light so shine before this people, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”
It gave me great joy to read this because it helped me remember what I learned in seminary and how marvelous the plan of our Father is. So I decided to try to be a light to the world.
I invited two cousins to come to church. One was less active, and he became active. The other was not a member, and I was able to baptize him.
A year later I received my mission call to serve in California, USA. As I served, I saw without a doubt that this is the true gospel of Jesus Christ. As I helped people, my testimony grew more and more, and every time I read my scriptures, I always recited the passage in 3 Nephi to be a light unto the world.

I have been a member of this wonderful Church for all of my life, but I took it for granted for the first 14 years.
The summer of my freshman year of high school I realized I wasn’t very happy. I kept wondering what was wrong with me. There was something missing, and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Then I went to a youth conference, and it changed my life. The feelings of emptiness were finally gone. I was truly happy for the first time that I could remember. I went home and read the Book of Mormon, started praying intently, and cleaned up my life. I have seen a huge change, inside and out. But even though I had a strong testimony going into high school, I still struggled with the different views and activities of my friends.
In the summer before my junior year I got news of an LDS 11th-grader moving into our area. I was ecstatic. She was an answer to prayer. It’s amazing how much we have in common and how well we get along. Together with another senior, we made up the three LDS girls at my high school. With three boys, that made six Latter-day Saints among 950 students. While the school year was stressful for all of us, we were always there to support each other. We stuck together through bad times and great times.
We went together one night to the Washington D.C. Temple Visitors’ Center. That night Katie, Paige, and I took a long walk around the temple. There was such a feeling of peace and love. There, the three of us made a pact with one another to work towards temple marriages and to settle for nothing less. We see the eternal perspective on choosing the right day-by-day. We are striving to gain the highest reward: eternal life. The Lord provided a way for three girls to choose the right, and I have never felt so good inside.

I recently went through this with one of my best friends. I know how you feel; it is hard to watch someone you care for make mistakes, but I gained a great testimony from it.
I prayed to Heavenly Father to help me know how to help her. The next day when I saw her at school, I realized that by being her friend and being an example to her, I was helping her. I was there when she needed me, and after she stopped dating, she told me that she was grateful for my example and how it had helped her see what mistakes she was making in her own life. Be someone she can turn to and talk to about anything. Don’t judge her—love her like Christ loves you.
Myrisa G., 17, Montana, USA

A few weeks ago my friend and her sister were getting ready to be baptized. My dad was the ward mission leader, so he was helping the missionaries with the baptism. My dad asked my sister and me if we wanted to sing with the sister missionaries at the baptism. My sister and I were both in choir, so of course we said yes. Later the missionaries came over and said the baptism was next week on Friday! I was so excited!
The next week on Wednesday the missionaries came over again. This time it was so they could practice singing. They asked if me and my sister could sing the first verse, and they would join in on the second and third. This was a little scarier than I thought, but after a while it started being really fun.
On the day of the baptism, I was a little nervous. I said a prayer to help me so I would be more calm. When it was our turn to sing I felt more calm. While we were singing, I felt the Spirit strongly. I think the other people who were there did too. I was so excited that I was able to sing with the missionaries and that I was able to make my friend happy.
I will never forget this baptism. I felt the Spirit on that day, and I will not forget that feeling. I’m sure it will come back again too.

We also visited my widowed Aunt Dorothy before she died. She had been very ill for some time, yet she lived on. She waited patiently to be with her husband again after this life. She depended on help from others but lived as fully as possible. She often read the scriptures. A small sign in her home expressed Dorothy’s attitude. It simply said, “Joy.”
Some of the happiest people I know: my mother, Ramona (top), my cousin Dave and Penny Barnes (center), and my Aunt Dorothy (above).
Photographs courtesy of the author
The Keetch family, my mother, Dave, Penny, and Aunt Dorothy are examples of being joyful during trials. They simply live the gospel and look to better days ahead. In doing so they show joy that exceeds the temporary, though painful, trials they face. With faith in God, they follow His plan for them and rely on Jesus Christ and the blessings of His Atonement. This brings joy and peace.

Many years ago now, long before I was called as a General Authority, I participated as a speaker in a young-adult conference. The conference concluded with a testimony meeting in which a handsome, young returned missionary stood up to bear his testimony. He looked good, clean, and confident—just like a returned missionary should look.

As he began to speak, tears came to his eyes. He said he was grateful to stand in the midst of such a terrific group of young Latter-day Saints and to feel good about the life he was trying to lead. But that feeling had only been possible, he said, because of an experience he had had a few years earlier, an experience that had shaped his life forever.

He then told of coming home from a date shortly after he had been ordained an elder at age 18. Something had happened on this date of which he was not proud. He did not go into any details, nor should he have done so in a public setting. To this day I do not know the nature of the incident, but it was significant enough to him to have affected his spirit and his self-esteem.

As he sat in his car for a while in the driveway of his own home, thinking things through and feeling genuine sorrow for whatever had happened, his nonmember mother came running frantically from the house straight to his car. In an instant she conveyed that this boy’s younger brother had just fallen in the home, had hit his head sharply and was having some kind of seizure or convulsion. The nonmember father had immediately called for an ambulance, but it would take some time at best for help to come.

“Come and do something,” she cried. “Isn’t there something you do in your Church at times like this? You have their priesthood. Come and do something.”

His mother didn’t know a lot about the Church at that point, but she knew something of priesthood blessings. Nevertheless, on this night when someone he loved dearly needed his faith and his strength, this young man could not respond. Given the feelings he had just been wrestling with and the compromise he felt he had just made—whatever that was—he could not bring himself to go before the Lord and ask for the blessing that was needed.

He bolted from the car and ran down the street to the home of a worthy older man who had befriended him in the ward ever since the boy’s conversion two or three years earlier. An explanation was given, and the two were back at the house still well before the paramedics arrived. The happy ending of this story as told in that testimony meeting was that this older man instantly gave a sweet, powerful priesthood blessing, leaving the injured child stable and resting by the time medical help arrived. A quick trip to the hospital and a thorough exam there revealed no permanent damage had been done. A very fearful moment for this family had passed.

Then the returned missionary of whom I speak said this: “No one who has not faced what I faced that night will ever know the shame I felt and the sorrow I bore for not feeling worthy to use the priesthood I held. It is an even more painful memory for me because it was my own little brother who needed me and my beloved nonmember parents who were so fearful and who had a right to expect more of me. But as I stand before you today, I can promise you this,” he said. “I am not perfect, but from that night onward I have never done anything that would keep me from going before the Lord with confidence and asking for His help when it is needed. Personal worthiness is a battle in this world in which we live,” he acknowledged, “but it is a battle I am winning. I have felt the finger of condemnation pointing at me once in my life, and I don’t intend to feel it ever again if I can do anything about it. And, of course,” he concluded, “I can do everything about it.”

He finished his testimony and sat down. I can still picture him. I can still see the setting we were in. And I can still remember the stark, moving silence that followed his remarks as everyone in the room had occasion to search his or her soul a little deeper, vowing a little stronger to live by these powerful words given by the Lord:

“Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven.
“The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth” (D&C 121:45–46; emphasis added).
My beloved young friends, have a wonderful life. Think the best and hope the best and have faith in the future. You have a great life ahead of you. Your Heavenly Father loves you. If any mistakes have been made, they can be repented of and forgiven just as they were for this young man. You have everything to live for and plan for and believe in. To have the approval of your conscience when you are alone with your memories allows you to feel the Spirit of God in a very personal way. I want you to enjoy that Spirit, to feel that confidence in the presence of the Lord always. May virtuous thoughts keep our actions pure today and tomorrow and forever.

What possible effect can a 14-year-old have on home teaching? I’m just a kid. Who am I to be telling an elder to do his home teaching? Not just an elder, but an elder that I have never met or even seen at church. The only thing I knew about him was his name and that he was an ex-athlete.
I had been called to be a junior home teaching companion three months earlier and still had not visited anyone. It didn’t help that my two best friends were already active home teachers. One was assigned with his father and the other to a member of the elders quorum presidency. My own father was in the bishopric and at that time was not assigned as a home teacher. What could a 14-year-old companion do?
My feelings of guilt had to be Brother Jensen’s fault, I decided. He had been my deacons quorum adviser who taught us how important home teaching was. He also explained that as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, it was our duty to be faithful home teachers. He had warned us that we might have to remind and encourage a senior companion to do home teaching.
Well, my options were really very simple. I could continue to wait for my senior companion to call and do my best not to feel guilty, or I could go to his house, introduce myself, and arrange to go home teaching.
On the one hand, he was the senior companion. He was supposed to take charge, not me. Wouldn’t I be assuming too much authority by contacting him? He might even get offended. Better to wait, I thought. Then Brother Jensen’s words would come back to me again.
“If your senior companion doesn’t contact you,” he said, “then you must contact him and let that brother know you are ready to go home teaching.” He explained that if the senior companion still didn’t go home teaching, the responsibility would rest on that senior companion. Until we made the effort to go, we had to share in that failure.
I finally committed to go to my companion and introduce myself.
As I went to church that Sunday, I began to feel more and more nervous. What would my companion think? Would he laugh at me? Maybe he would get mad and run me off. I didn’t feel I could do it, but I had promised to follow through and make the attempt. If he responded negatively, then I would have at least done my part.
I normally walked home from church, passing my companion’s house on the way. As I neared his house, I forced myself up the driveway and said a prayer, very simple, very direct. “Lord, please help me.” My fears left me for the moment, and I quickly climbed the steps to the front door and knocked. I knew someone would answer because I could hear what sounded like a party going on inside. The fear was coming back, but it was too late to run. I had already knocked.
The door opened, and a woman asked me what I wanted. She may have been polite, rude, sensitive, or even abrupt. I don’t know because I was trying hard to remember what it was I was there for.
“Is Brother Johnson here?” I finally asked, timidly.
“Just a minute, please.” I thought I could hear laughter but wasn’t sure. I didn’t have time to breathe before a very tall man stepped to the door. He seemed none too friendly.
“Yeah?” he asked.
My eyes must have been big enough to cover my face. I’m sure he noticed I was scared because he started to smile a little. I calmed down just enough to utter my little prayer in my mind one last, desperate time.
“My name is John,” I began in a voice that didn’t sound scared to me, “and I’m your home teaching companion. I was wondering when we could go home teaching?”
I don’t know if he was amused or surprised, but he didn’t throw me off the porch. Good start, I thought.
He just smiled and said, “Give me your phone number, and I’ll call you back.”
I went home feeling pretty good. I felt that I had made a good effort, and if he didn’t call back, I could say I had tried. When I arrived home, I told my parents what had happened. I don’t think they expected me to get a call.
Later that night, I received a call from Brother Johnson, my companion.
“Can you go home teaching Tuesday at seven?” he asked.
“Uh, sure,” I stammered.
“I’ll pick you up then. Bye.” He hung up.
Tuesday night we went home teaching. I found out later he had called the elders quorum president after I had left his house that Sunday to get the names and phone numbers of the families we were assigned. He then called the families and made appointments.
That became our routine. On the third Sunday I would stop by his house, and then he would set up appointments. We rarely, if ever, missed anyone in the two years we were companions. We also became pretty good friends. Brother Johnson even came to church a couple of times. He said he just wanted to see the quorum president faint.
I learned two very important lessons. First, an Aaronic Priesthood holder can have a positive influence on home teaching. Second, a less-active brother can be the most active home teacher.
As a home teacher, Brother Johnson taught me a lot.

The year began well. The missionaries were blessed to find and teach Craig Smith, then 17 years old. Though at the time there were no priests in their ward, Craig was welcomed by all the young men and fit in well.

“I was made to feel so welcome by the other young men and quickly felt comfortable being around them, even though they knew much more about the Church than I did,” Craig recounts. “It was hard letting go of some of the things that I used to do with my friends before I joined the Church, but I know that living the gospel will make me much happier.”

The Lord had been preparing the hearts of Patrick and Miguel, who were of deacon and teacher age, respectively. Together with Craig, their baptisms meant that each quorum had increased by one, which exactly matched the goal the quorums had prayerfully set. On their baptismal day, most of the ward members were there to see these two young men make a sacred covenant with their Heavenly Father.