Gospel Story Finder

I say to you what I said to the boys—avoid pornography as you would a plague. I recall an assignment some years back to restore the blessings of a man who had been excommunicated from the Church because of his sin. He came to my office with his wife. I spoke with them individually. I asked him how it all began. He held a responsible position in the Church. He was likewise a professional man with high responsibility in the community.

His trouble began, he said, when he picked up a pornographic magazine to read on a plane. It intrigued him. It appealed to him. He found himself buying more of these things. Then he sought out movies which titillated him and excited him. Knowing that his wife would be a party to none of this, he went alone. He found occasion to leave town and go to other cities where he could more easily indulge his desires. He then found excuses to stay late at his office and asked his secretary to stay with him. One thing led to another until he succumbed.

With tears rolling down his cheeks, he sat across the desk from me and cursed the day he had read that first magazine. He spoke of his love for the wife who had forgiven him and remained true to him. He spoke of his love for his children, who had been shamed and embarrassed by his actions. He told of the hell through which he had walked for some four years from the time of his excommunication. He spoke of his love for the Church and of his desire to again enjoy its full blessings.

In the presence of his wife, I placed my hands upon his head and in the authority of the holy priesthood restored his priesthood, his temple endowment, his temple sealing, and all other blessings which he had formerly held. This great, strong man sobbed like a baby under my hands while his wife, holding her hand in his, wept like a child.

At the conclusion of that blessing, they embraced one another and he asked her to forgive him. She said she had forgiven him, and that she loved him and always would.

They were happy when they left, happier than they had been in years. And I was happy, too. But I thought of the terrible price he had paid and of the price he had exacted of his family through his foolishness and transgression.

It takes forever to clean the slate when you get behind in your nut cracking. Once our family was planning a vacation. Dad decided that we weren’t going until everyone had his nuts cracked. Those who didn’t have nuts to crack were encouraged to help the others. We started out being grumpy, but by the end, we were all working together and actually enjoying it! Spending that time together, just talking while we were at our nut cracking, made us closer.

One day in high school, I had a geography test where I was asked to recognize and name each continent and country in the world. Sounds tough, right? Well, it was. Especially since I am mostly blind.
I have tunnel vision, so my eyes—well, the one that works—can only focus on a small portion of a page at a time. Not ideal for a test where I needed to see the whole picture all at once.
I got frustrated pretty quick. I couldn’t tell Europe apart from South America or Africa from Australia. I got so frustrated that I started to cry, making the already jumbled shapes on my paper even more blurry. Thankfully, I was saved when my dad walked in to pick me up at the end of the day.
My teacher gave me extra time to complete the test at home. After dinner that night I sat at the table, ready to try again, while my siblings watched a video in the living room.
I started trying to fill in the map when something in the video caught my attention. A blind man was asking the Savior if He would give him sight. At that moment, that’s what I wanted more than anything.
Suddenly I realized that if anyone could help me, it was Jesus Christ. I didn’t have sight given to me that day, but as I listened to the Savior heal that man, I felt joy! I knew Jesus Christ cared about me and would help me finish my test.
I knelt down and offered heartfelt thanks to my Heavenly Father for the gift of His Son. Then, with newfound determination, I picked up my pencil, ready to try again.

My introduction is something said in my presence by one of these valiant missionaries. “As I look back on my life,” he said, “I can hardly imagine a barefoot surfer from Hawaii completing his third mission. But when I felt the warm embrace of the Savior, I wanted to serve Him, and I changed.” Yes he did! Stanley Y. Q. Ho told me that until he was 30 years old he did nothing but “hang around the beaches at Waikiki.” Then he found the gospel, he married a Latter-day Saint girl, and he changed. Since then he has fulfilled many callings, including bishop and stake president. Now, Elder Ho and his beloved Momi, who is responsible for so many of the changes in his life, have served three full-time missions.

On an overcast day in late November, the apostles at Winter Quarters met to discuss Oliver Cowdery. Most of them had known him in Kirtland and had heard his powerful testimony of the Book of Mormon. Along with David Whitmer and Martin Harris, he had helped the prophet Joseph Smith call some of them to the Quorum of the Twelve and had taught them their responsibilities. Phineas Young had also assured them that Oliver was committed to Zion and had softened his heart toward the Church.26
With Willard Richards acting as clerk, the apostles composed a letter to Oliver. “Come,” they wrote, “and return to our Father’s house, from whence thou hast wandered.” Describing Oliver as a beloved prodigal son, they invited him to be rebaptized and ordained again to the priesthood.
“If you desire to serve God with all your heart and become partaker of the blessings of the celestial kingdom, do these things,” they declared. “Thy soul will be filled with rejoicing.”
They gave Phineas the letter and asked him to deliver it in person.27

It was a cloudy Sunday morning as I stood at the kitchen sink finishing the breakfast dishes. My two youngest children were watching a scripture video in the family room by the kitchen. I was lost in thought, and my cheeks were wet from tears. I couldn’t get my mind off the cancer that had invaded our home. My husband had been fighting it for several years, but now it had spread. My faith seemed to be wavering. My mind was crowded with “what if?” thoughts.
Suddenly the scripture video interrupted my thoughts with words from a calming voice: “Peace, be still. …
“Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?” (Mark 4:39–40).
I dropped the dishrag and turned to look at the TV. The video was about the Savior calming the storm. It was as if the words had been spoken to me by the Savior Himself. A feeling of warmth and peace flooded over me. It was a reminder to stick to the faith I had learned so much about through the years of cancer. It was a faith buttressed by words in my patriarchal blessing.
I learned to let the Savior carry us, I learned that I must keep my faith constant, and I learned to combat mounting fears with faith. The video that morning reminded me to rely on the Lord.

Sonia Patrick describes herself as a mouse with a tail on fire running through a dry field. On the streets of Barbados—where the culture swings to a Caribbean beat—she makes sure everyone at the bus stop hears her testimony.
“God comes first,” she said. “I carry Him with me everywhere I go.”
Sister Patrick is among a growing number of members in the Christ Church Branch who have felt the fire of temple and family history work. They have learned firsthand what Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “Anywhere you are in the world, with prayer, faith, determination, diligence, and some sacrifice, you can make a powerful contribution.”
Sister Patrick joined the Church in 2008 after meeting the missionaries, who offered to wash her car for free. She is now known as the “bold one” in her branch on this sunny island in the West Indies.
“I grew up Christian,” she said. “I felt a spiritual pull to accept the missionaries’ offer to attend church.”
Tragedy struck three years after her baptism when her only son was killed. Suddenly, she said, “family history became very important to me.”
Opportunities for family history research and temple work were limited at the time on the island. Computers were scarce, and travel to the nearest temple was expensive and difficult.
Sister Patrick arranged for the proxy baptism of her son but remained patient over the next years. She stayed busy “doing what she was supposed to do” until a series of events came together to provide more help for her family history work.
Wheels were set in motion when Sister Jennilyn Stoffers arrived in 2022 to serve in the Barbados Bridgetown Mission office. Her call to Barbados came as a last-minute surprise. For months, she had made preparations with Church leaders to serve in Ireland, where the wet and cold of northern Europe were more conducive to her health. She had her bags packed for Ireland until she read her mission call, sending her the other direction—to the heat and humidity of Barbados.
Sister Stoffers replaced her warm wools with breezy cottons and soon arrived in Barbados. “There was a lot of adapting,” she said of the weather, the Bajan dialect, the culture, the food—just about everything.
“It was easy to fall in love with the members and their pure faith in God,” she said. “Everyone should experience a fast and testimony meeting in Barbados. Members know the scriptures. They are strong in their faith. They face persecution from family and society. Many are the only members of the Church in their families.”
Before long, the branch president asked Sister Stoffers to teach a class on temple preparation and family history work, a subject that fires her imagination and devotion.
A spark was struck among several members. They lingered after meetings, huddling around the branch computer, where Sister Stoffers helped them discover the richness of family history work.
Margaret Haynes was among the first to taste the spirit of the work.
“Imagine how my ancestors are reacting,” she said in reflection. “One day I will meet them. I have always felt a special feeling of being watched over by them. It brings me joy to unite my family. I feel their yearning to make covenants.”
Enthusiasm spread, and more members joined in the weekly gatherings.
“They get after it,” Sister Stoffers said. “If they need permission to perform an ordinance or need data like a birth date, they call a relative right then. There’s no waiting for a more convenient time.”
The laws and culture in the Caribbean make researching family records a challenge. “Yet,” said Sister Stoffers, “members of the branch deal with the frustrations and have now submitted more than 500 ordinances to the temple.” And more are coming.
As Church members unearthed their ancestral past, Sister Stoffers began wondering how they might experience the joy of serving in the temple on their ancestors’ behalf, given the expense of traveling to the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple.
Considering her resources, she remembered the youth and adults in her home ward near Ogden, Utah, USA. With their enthusiasm to serve, could they fill the gap and help their brothers and sisters in Barbados?
Sister Stoffers’s home-ward bishop liked the plan and rallied the support of youth and adults. Soon, names from Barbados were being shared instantly on FamilySearch.
Now, as often as their schedule permits, a battalion of youth converge on the Ogden Utah Temple, where Bishop Rob Smout pulls from a stack of ordinance-ready printouts to divvy among the youth. The talkative youth grow whisper quiet as they contemplate the unusually spelled names of people with whom they have no connection but feel a spiritual kinship.
Participation has been widespread across the ward. On certain Saturdays, a family of five boys arrives early at the temple to enjoy the sunrise over the Wasatch mountains before performing baptisms.
“It’s become a ward quest,” said Bishop Smout. “It has united the ward. Many have become involved and take names routinely, including those who haven’t attended the temple in years. Others have come back into activity to participate.”
Many members in Barbados, meanwhile, have had unique experiences that motivate them to gather their families.
“As we work together, we feel a family connection,” Sister Stoffers said. “We feel a saintly joy. It is hard to describe, except that it seems to resonate in others beyond.”
This enthusiasm to discover ancestors has now spread beyond the branch and across the Caribbean to members on neighboring islands. Proselyting missionaries assist by meeting with members in their homes. To guide those in the far reaches of the mission, Sister Stoffers conducts virtual training sessions.
This effort on a small island in the Caribbean began with love and a desire to bless ancestors. Then came the means to learn how. The branch discovered that the work is spiritual, requiring what Elder Scott called “a monumental effort of cooperation on both sides of the veil, where help is given in both directions.” They proved that even in remote Barbados, a small number of devoted members can make a great contribution.

Trisha woke up feeling that something was different. She looked out the window and saw that the ground was covered with a thick layer of new snow. She dressed quickly and crossed the hall to wake up Janis. Though her sister was four years older, they were close friends. “Hurry up and get dressed,” she urged Janis. “It snowed during the night, and I can’t wait to build a snowman.”
Janis rubbed her eyes. “It’s too early to get up. Anyway, the snow will be there all day.” She started to turn over to go back to sleep.
“No, some of it will melt.” Trisha pulled on her sister’s arm. “Come on. Get up.”
Slowly Janis sat up in bed. She looked at Trisha and tried to frown but smiled instead. “I can tell you’re not going to leave me alone,” she said. “And building a snowman is always a lot of fun.”
Trisha tried to skip breakfast, but Mother insisted they have warm food in their stomachs before going outdoors. So Trisha ate her oatmeal as fast as she could. Then she had to wait for Janis to finish. What if most of the snow is melted by the time we get outside? she worried. But when they left the house, there was still a lot of snow on the ground. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked around.
“Where do you want to build the snowman?” Janis asked.
“Right here in the middle of the front yard. I want everyone in the whole neighborhood to see it.”
They began to scoop up armfuls of snow and heap it in the center of the front yard. A half hour later, when they paused to rest, their snowman was beginning to take shape.
Trisha glanced toward the house next door. She was a little surprised to see her friend Marny standing at her bedroom window watching them.
She waved to Marny, and her friend waved back. Marny looked very unhappy. Ever since she’d become sick a month ago, she’d had to stay in the house. Trisha knew that Marny wished she could be outside playing in the snow too. Trisha went over to visit her almost every day, but it wasn’t much fun for either of them—not the kind of fun they had when they played outdoors together.
Trisha wasn’t as happy while she and Janis built the rest of their snowman, because she kept thinking of Marny.
“He’s done,” Janis said after a while. “Of course he’ll need some finishing touches. I’ll go get what we need.”
“Wait!” Trisha burst out. “I know Marny would like to help us make this snowman. She can put on the finishing touches.”
Janis looked surprised. “But Marny’s sick. She can’t come out here.”
“No, but she can still help. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Trisha ran to Marny’s house and knocked on the front door. Marny’s mother opened it and smiled at Trisha.
“Marny’s upstairs,” she said. “She was wondering if you were coming over for a visit today.”
Trisha smiled back, then ran up to Marny’s room. When she left Marny’s house ten minutes later, she had all the things she needed to finish the snowman. There were blue buttons for his eyes, a big black button for his nose, a string of cranberries for his mouth, an old felt hat for his head, and a scarf for his neck.
“He looks almost alive,” said Janis.
“I think so too,” Trisha agreed. She looked over at Marny’s bedroom window. Marny, of course, had been watching everything that they did, but now she wore a happy smile.

The peace that you want takes time. It won’t happen overnight. My mother died about five years ago of cancer. It isn’t easy to lose someone we love. I only wish that I had communicated with my dad and my brothers and sisters and told them how I felt. Instead I tried to hide it. Because of my stubbornness, it only got worse when my dad remarried and we moved to a new town. I was heartbroken because all my memories of my mom weren’t around anymore. I blamed my Heavenly Father for doing this to me and making my life miserable.
My first year of high school I had no mom, and then I had to make new friends in a new school. I now feel peace within because I decided to let go of all my past hurts and look toward the future. Yes, I still have my days when I wonder why, but Heavenly Father has the whole eternal perspective of life, and we only have a narrow view.
I hope that you will keep communications with your family open. Let them know how you’re feeling.
Please stay close to your Heavenly Father. He loves all of us, and he will comfort you when you’re really down. I can testify to that.
Mary Beth Bentley, 18Danville, California

I recently heard of a ward in which there were seventy sisters over seventy years of age. Their wise Relief Society president felt that even those who were homebound could serve, and so she gave each of the seventy sisters either a visiting teaching assignment or a compassionate service assignment. Even a sister stricken with a terminal disease was assigned to write a monthly letter to each of three sisters who were homebound. Some sisters were assigned to call other sisters each day to make sure they were all right.

One sister continued to serve as a visiting teacher supervisor when she was ill and homebound. Her Relief Society president reported that, with much effort, this sister put on one of her prettiest dresses before doing the telephoning each month, feeling that this act gave her service importance and dignity as she filled this assignment for the Lord.

The STOMPing that took place wasn’t grapes or dance floors or each other’s toes. In fact, it had nothing to do with feet.
The STOMP that the youth of the Hermosa Vista Ward in the Mesa Arizona Red Mountain Stake participated in becomes clear when you find out what STOMP stands for—Students Trying Out Moroni’s Promise. (See the New Era, “Captains of Ten,” Nov. 1983, p. 49.)
In 17 weeks (that translates to four pages a day), the Young Men and Young Women and their youth leaders, divided into groups of ten, decided to act on Moroni’s promise in Moroni 10:4–5. [Moro. 10:4–5] They read the Book of Mormon as a group.
Each group of ten was assigned a captain. At first the captains weren’t really sure they wanted the responsibility. Blair Phelps had a little insider’s knowledge about what they were up against. His sister had been a captain the year before, so he knew what was involved. But he agreed, joining seven others as the captains.
Each week these captains contacted each member of their team and added up the points each had earned that week. Points were given for reading each day, for being up to date with their reading assignments, for memorizing certain scriptures, and for attending the firesides and activities organized to encourage participation. Each person was given a booklet with a reading chart, the schedule of events, the scriptures to memorize, and Moroni’s promise printed right there in the front. The teams were not competing. Reporting in to their captain helped each person stay interested and focused on the goal.
Michelle Shephard described what happened perfectly, “I was pretty excited”; then she paused, “at first.” It seems like enthusiasm was high for the first couple of weeks. Then school let out for the summer and the schedules started to slip. It seemed like everyone had some trouble keeping up. In fact, the Beehives took drastic measures to catch up. They had a sleep-over where reading the Book of Mormon was the planned activity. Maria Dastrup said, “It was the strangest sleep-over I ever went to. Who would have thought we would have fun just reading the Book of Mormon?” And read they did, with occasional breaks, until they finally fell asleep. Then in the morning they woke up and read some more.
Nearly everyone had a favorite character or favorite story from the scriptures. Mike Walker said, “I really admired Nephi. He’s a good role model. I kept wondering about his brothers. How could they have an angel appear to them and such wonderful things happen that should build their faith, then turn around and be wicked again? It’s hard to understand.”
Many developed a strong feeling for Moroni. Reading his last words made them both sad and hopeful. “It was sad when Moroni said good-bye,” said Lisa Corrington. “His promise works if you really want to find out if the Book of Mormon is true.”
Michelle also commented on Moroni’s last words. “He gives you a final promise after all his people have died and after all that has happened. He tells us we can still do it—we can still live as Christ taught.”
Blair adds, “It gives you a good feeling. It makes you want to try.”
The young people in Mesa were determined to finish reading the Book of Mormon on schedule. They came up with a list of suggestions that helped them finish their reading:
Pay attention.
Pray first; it helps.
Apply what you read to things going on around you.
Keep a reading chart.
Read along while listening to scripture tapes.
Read the chapter headings.
Read during the day when you’re awake. And try to read at the same time every day.
Read it with your friends or family so you can discuss it.
Read the book of Moroni first; then go back and start at the beginning.

Each of us must at times courageously and firmly stand up for what we are and what we believe. When President Joseph F. Smith was a young man, he was faced with this predicament:
“One morning when he and several other missionaries were returning to Salt Lake City, a group of rough Mormon-haters rode up on horses, firing their guns and cursing.
“The leader jumped off his horse and shouted, ‘We will kill anyone who is a Mormon!’ The other missionaries had fled into the woods, but Joseph F. bravely stood his ground. The man shoved a gun in Joseph F.’s face and asked, ‘Are you a Mormon?’
“Joseph F. stood tall and said, ‘Yes siree; dyed in the wool; true blue, through and through!’
“The man was surprised at his reply. He put the gun away, shook Joseph’s hand, and said, ‘Well, you are the pleasantest man I ever met! I’m glad to see a fellow stand up for his convictions.’ He jumped back on his horse and rode off with his companions.”

As Mommy and I sat in sacrament meeting, I was missing my daddy. He was away serving in the military overseas. At the same time, my tooth was hurting a lot, so I reached for Mommy and told her about it. She held my hand, closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer that my tooth wouldn’t hurt anymore.
After she finished praying—poof! My tooth got very loose and came out. I believe Heavenly Father heard my mommy’s prayer, and I am thankful.Jesse Freeman, age 7 (with help from his mom), Savannah, Georgia

While attending a sacrament meeting during the summer months, I was fortunate to hear messages from three students who were home from school for the summer. One of the talks especially interested me.
She had been working during the summer recess in a restaurant frequented by truck drivers. One driver who had a regular run stopped at the restaurant on the same day each week to eat. The regularity of the stop created an opportunity for short visits. He asked the young lady where she lived. She reported that she was home for the summer to earn money to return to school in the fall. His next question was, “Where do you attend school?” Her answer with pride: “BYU–Idaho.” He wanted to know more about the school, which led to a gospel discussion. Her first approach was to teach him about the Word of Wisdom. She was successful. She convinced him to give up smoking.
Then her shift was changed, and she no longer had the opportunity to serve him, so she wrote him a note and enclosed a Church missionary tract about the plan of salvation. After several days she received a note from the driver. It simply stated, “You’ve created a monster.” Thanks to this young woman, he had found information which caused him to think about the changes he must make in his life. I do not know the full outcome of this little encounter between a waitress and a truck driver, but clearly his life was affected.
She then went on to explain how easy it is to let others know about the beauties of the gospel. Opportunities are there every day in our normal pursuits of life to open our mouths to let people know of the gospel truths that will bless them here and now and into the eternities to come.

I didn’t know which was louder—my footsteps in the big, silent house, or my pounding heart. I hurried through the darkness and down the stairs to my parents’ room. I tried to step softly so the stairs wouldn’t creak.
Our hundred-year-old house often creaked and popped at night. Dad said it was the sounds of the old wood and adobe settling as the night cooled down. But it still sounded scary.
Dad was out of town for work, and I felt bad waking Mom up, but I had to talk to her. I stood in the doorway. The moonlight shone through Mom’s white curtains. I felt a little less frightened already.
“Mom?” I called softly.
She turned over. “What’s the matter?”
“I had a bad dream again.”
“Oh no. Come snuggle with me, OK?”
Relieved, I climbed into the big bed. The sheets felt cool and soft. Mom hugged me tightly. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“It was the dream with the giant shark.”
“You’ve had that dream before,” Mom said. I nodded and tucked my head under Mom’s chin. “Well, you’re safe, sweetheart. Sleep here with me until morning. After school tomorrow, we can talk some more.”
All day I wondered what Mom would say after school about my scary dreams. The shark dream wasn’t the only one. Sometimes I dreamed about a prickly monster. One night I even dreamed that my family was in a car accident.
My dreams really bothered me. Sometimes I screamed and cried in the night. I even felt afraid to fall asleep.
After school, I sat down with Mom. “Are you still thinking about the giant shark?” Mom asked.
I nodded.
“What do you think you’re going to do about those scary dreams?”
“Mom, they’re dreams. I didn’t make them start. I don’t think I can make them stop.”
“Probably not by yourself,” Mom said. “But there’s someone I ask for help when I have a problem I can’t solve by myself.”
“You mean Heavenly Father!” I said.
“Right! You can ask Heavenly Father to help you sleep well at night, with no bad dreams.”
“In my prayers before bed?”
“Then, and any other time you’re thinking about it. I know He will listen to you and help you.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I ask Heavenly Father about problems a lot, and He helps me. Just this morning I asked Him what to do about your scary dreams.”
“Did He help you?”
“Yes. I had the idea that you should pray about your dreams, and when that idea came to my mind, I felt the Holy Ghost telling me it was a good thing to do.”
“How did it feel?”
“I felt warm and happy, and I felt sure everything would be OK,” Mom said. “Do you know what I mean?”
“I think so,” I said. And then I noticed that I felt warm and happy inside. “Mom, that’s how I feel right now!” I said.
“That’s the Holy Ghost telling you that what you’re learning is right,” Mom said.
That night, and every night for a long time afterward, I prayed that I could sleep well with no bad dreams. My bad dreams didn’t come back. Heavenly Father answered my prayer.

The Prophet Joseph Smith was totally committed to the Lord and was willing to serve him at all times, at all costs, and at all hazards. He was willing to serve the Lord even when it was not convenient. When Joseph was living in the Johnson’s home at Hiram, Ohio, his wife, Emma, gave birth to twins who died the day of their birth. The wife of John Murdock also gave birth to a set of twins on that same day, but Mrs. Murdock died in childbirth. Joseph and Emma asked Brother Murdock if they might adopt his twins, and he readily accepted that offer.

When the twins were 11 months old, they became very ill with measles, causing many sleepless nights in the Smith household. One night the Prophet told his wife to go into the back bedroom and try to get some rest while he sat up in the living room with the sicker of the two children. As the night passed, Joseph lay down upon a trundle bed and dozed off. The next thing he knew, he was being carried bodily through the front door by an angry mob who were shouting among themselves, “Don’t let his feet touch the floor, or he will take us all.” They realized what a tremendously powerful man he was physically as well as spiritually.

They carried him out through the orchard, and as they did so, he saw Sidney Rigdon lying on the ground, presumably dead. The mob had also dragged Brother Rigdon from his house by the heels, bumping his head on the frozen ground until it had knocked him insensible.

After coming to a halt, the mob deliberated as to whether or not they should kill the Prophet but decided against it. Finally one of them said, “Let’s tar up his mouth.” With that they tried to force the tar paddle into his mouth. Next they tried to force a phial of poison between his teeth, but he kept them clenched so tightly that the bottle broke, along with the corner of one of his front teeth. Failing to tar up his mouth or poison him, one of the members of the mob fell on him, and after the others had torn off all Joseph’s clothes except his shirt collar, began scratching him like a mad cat, muttering: “… that’s the way the Holy Ghost falls on folks.” They then poured hot tar on his body, rolled him in a feather tick and left him for dead.

After regaining consciousness the Prophet made his way to the house. When his wife, Emma, saw him coming to the door with his body covered with tar and feathers, she fainted. The rest of the night was spent removing the tar from his body. The tender hands of Dr. Frederick G. Williams, a physician and also a counselor to the Prophet in the First Presidency, performed the heartbreaking task. Sometimes large pieces of skin came off with the tar. The next day was the Sabbath, and the Prophet, in great discomfort, was at the service where he spoke.

It is hard to study the life of the Prophet Joseph Smith without remembering that he learned to serve the Lord fully, at all times, and at all costs.

I met my wife, Ann, when we were both singing in choirs at the University of Utah. For a short time after we married, we lived in the same area where I grew up. We had very little money. Sometimes when we went on a date, Ann popped a bag of popcorn and we drove downtown in our old car to a movie theater. We didn’t have enough money to buy tickets, so we sat in our car and ate our popcorn while we watched the interesting people going into the theater! While I was getting my law degree, I drove an oil truck to earn money to support our family. Our first three children—twins and another daughter—were born in one year!

Before she found the gospel, A. Munkhsaihan saw the world as a dark place with little hope. Finding faith and hope through the gospel changed the world for her.

In the years before 1990, she taught Russian. But when the political and cultural climate of Mongolia changed, she found that she needed to learn English so she could teach it. Munkhsaihan studied English for a year with Latter-day Saint missionaries. Before listening to the missionary discussions, she determined that she would examine their faith carefully. She found their religion was more than a faith based on true principles—it was a way of life. She was baptized and confirmed in June 2000, and the rest of her family joined the Church a month later. Now she sees the world as a much brighter place for her, her children, and her grandchildren. Currently, she serves as president of the Relief Society in the Ulaanbaatar district.

After the gospel changed her own life, Munkhsaihan wondered what would happen if she applied its principles in her work as a teacher. She began trying consciously to love all her students—and with some that was difficult. She began to pray for her students. Interestingly, she found herself changing; she developed a greater capacity to love them. Even though the students did not know she was praying for them, their attitudes toward her changed as well.

“As we exercise faith in the gospel, we can change ourselves,” she says.

And this, her experience suggests, is how the gospel may change Mongolia. As members change themselves through faith in Jesus Christ, they will change the world around them.

I have often wondered why that tough Marine Corps sergeant spared me that day. But I am grateful I was able to say without hesitation, “Yes, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” and “Yes, I know the Book of Mormon is true.” This testimony is a precious gift given to me through the Holy Ghost with the help of two missionaries and a priests quorum adviser.
When I was 14 years old, two missionaries, Lee Pearson and Boyd Camphuysen, taught my family the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and I was baptized. Two years later my priests quorum adviser, Richard Boren, challenged me to read the Book of Mormon. I accepted that challenge, and I read at least 10 pages every night until I finished.
On the title page I read that it is “written to the Lamanites, who are a remnant of the house of Israel; and also to Jew and Gentile.” In the introduction to the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ, it says that the Lamanites “are among the ancestors of the American Indians.” As I read the Book of Mormon, it seemed to me that it was about my American Indian ancestors. It tells the story of a people, a part of which were later described as “Lamanites,” who migrated from Jerusalem to a “land of promise” (1 Nephi 2:20) about 600 B.C. It is an account of God’s dealings with these ancient inhabitants located somewhere on the American continents. It includes an account of the ministry of Jesus Christ among them following His Resurrection. Passages in the Book of Mormon suggest that over time they were dispersed throughout the American continents and islands of the nearby seas (see Alma 63:9–10). Their prophets foretold that many multitudes of Gentiles would eventually come to this land of promise and the wrath of God would be upon the Lamanites and they would be scattered, smitten, and nearly destroyed (see 1 Nephi 13:10–14).
My great-grandfather Echo Hawk, a Pawnee Indian, was born in the mid-1800s in what is now called Nebraska. When he was 19 years of age, the Pawnee people were forced to give up their 23-million-acre (9.3 million ha) homeland to make room for settlers. In 1874 the Pawnee people were marched several hundred miles south to a small reservation located in the Oklahoma Indian Territory. The population of Pawnee people had declined from over 12,000 to less than 700 upon their arrival in Oklahoma. The Pawnee, like other tribes, had been scattered, smitten, and nearly destroyed.
The Book of Mormon has a special message for descendants of the Lamanites, a remnant of the house of Israel. Nephi expressed this message while interpreting his father’s vision of these latter days: “And at that day shall the remnant of our seed know that they are of the house of Israel, and that they are the covenant people of the Lord; and then shall they know and come to the knowledge of their forefathers, and also to the knowledge of the gospel of their Redeemer, which was ministered unto their fathers by him; wherefore, they shall come to the knowledge of their Redeemer and the very points of his doctrine, that they may know how to come unto him and be saved” (1 Nephi 15:14).
The Book of Mormon is sacred scripture. It contains the fulness of the everlasting gospel. The Prophet Joseph Smith wrote that “the Book of Mormon [is] the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith [2007], 64). Thus, it has a message for all people of the world.
As a 17-year-old boy reading the Book of Mormon for the first time, I focused on Moroni’s promise: “And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost” (Moroni 10:4).
As I knelt in prayer, I received a powerful spiritual witness that the Book of Mormon is true. That witness has helped me chart my course through life.
I exhort all people to read the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ.
I especially ask the remnant of the house of Israel, the descendants of the people of the Book of Mormon, wherever you may be, to read and reread the Book of Mormon. Learn of the promises contained in the Book of Mormon. Follow the teachings and example of Jesus Christ. Make and keep covenants with the Lord. Seek for and follow the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
I close with the words spoken by Amaleki, another Book of Mormon prophet: “And now, my beloved brethren, I would that ye should come unto Christ, who is the Holy One of Israel, and partake of his salvation, and the power of his redemption. Yea, come unto him, and offer your whole souls as an offering unto him, and continue in fasting and praying, and endure to the end; and as the Lord liveth ye will be saved” (Omni 1:26).
As we come unto our Savior, Jesus Christ, and purify our hearts, we will all be instruments in fulfilling the mighty promises of the Book of Mormon. Of this I testify in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I always believed in God the Eternal Father and in His Son, Jesus Christ. Ever since I was young I felt the desire to be closer to Them, but I didn’t know how.
In May 2000 I had my first contact with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I had just turned 17 when I met the missionaries. They knocked on my friend’s door, and she invited me to hear them. After listening to the discussions and attending sacrament meeting, my friend and I, as well as my father, mother, and younger brother, were baptized.
We were well received into the ward organizations. I was in Young Women. I was very happy and loved our Young Women president, Maria José, who always helped me grow spiritually. At about the time I finished the Young Women program, Maria José became my Sunday School teacher.
One Sunday she notified us that the following week we would be studying the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ and invited each of us to bring a copy of Jesus the Christ by James E. Talmage.
The next Sunday we all sat in the room with our books. Each of us had been assigned to study part of the book and explain it to the class. Our teacher orchestrated the reading of scriptures and our explanations. The Spirit influenced us in a magnificent way. Everyone was crying when we talked about Gethsemane and Calvary. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen in a gospel class. I had never before understood with such profound feeling the power and spirit of the Atonement.
At the end of class we sang a hymn and had a simple prayer. We were very moved. I am grateful for the Atonement and for the plan of salvation. I am especially grateful for the love and concern of our teacher, who wanted us to feel the Holy Ghost bear witness of the gospel and the Atonement.
Elaine Cristina Farias de Oliveira, Panatis Ward, Natal Brazil Potengi Stake