Gospel Story Finder

Arlene
Arlene, 20, has been working as a nanny for two years. She has found a wonderful family to work for that cares for her and encourages her in everything she tries. She, in turn, does an excellent job for them and appreciates the affection they share. She has been with them nearly two years, caring for their little girl Sasha.
“Charlie and Deb are the second family I have worked for. The first family turned out to be more of a maid position than a nanny position. I was totally unhappy there. I heard from a friend that Charlie and Deb were looking for someone. I called them, and they invited me to their house. I was offered the job that evening.”
Deb talks about what they expected from Arlene before they hired her. “We asked a lot of questions of her. We asked who she was, what did she want to be when she grew up. We told her who we were and what we expected of a person who would be a part of our family. We didn’t want someone who was a maid. We wanted another family member. It was important to us, because we both work full-time, that whoever took care of our child really wanted to do that and wanted to be a partner with us.”
Charlie added, “We also wanted to be sure she was given the resources to be independent. In the suburbs of Boston, you need a car to get around all the time. She needs to have transportation when she is not working, or she would be stuck here. She needs a telephone in her room, and privacy so she can live her own life.
“We’re lucky to have the resources to have someone live in with us. Some people who hire nannies think they have bought a 24-hour baby-sitting service, someone who will be at their beck and call and who will sacrifice completely for that family. We don’t perceive Arlene that way. This is someone we recognize as a full, well-rounded individual, and we weren’t going to try to turn her into some type of servant.”
Arlene points out how being a nanny differs from baby-sitting. “When you are baby-sitting, you are responsible for who you are watching at that time, but here this isn’t just when I’m working. It’s 24 hours a day. When I’m in the home, I’m responsible. We all work as a team. The most important thing is the communication between the nanny and her employers.
“When I came out, I wanted to avoid going to school. But now I’m going to school in the evenings, and I’m a studious person. I’ve learned so much about myself and who I want to be.”
Although she was not a member of the Church when she came east, Arlene began attending the ward on her own. Eventually she became a member. Her employers came to her baptism because they knew that it was important to her and wanted to be supportive.
Arlene is now the ward’s Young Adult representative in charge of the nannies. She uses her leadership abilities to help other girls who are having problems or need encouragement.

A moment in time from my own family history exemplifies a commitment to care for those in need. Many have heard of the Willie and Martin handcart companies and how these faithful pioneers suffered and died as they endured winter cold and debilitating conditions during their trek west. Robert Taylor Burton, one of my great-great-grandfathers, was one of those whom Brigham Young asked to ride out and rescue those dear, desperate Saints.
Of this time Grandfather wrote in his journal: “Snow deep [and] very cold. … So cold that [we] could not move. … Thermometer 11 degrees below zero [-24°C] … ; so cold the people could not travel.”12
Life-saving supplies were distributed to the stranded Saints, but “in spite of all [the rescuers] could do many were laid to rest by the wayside.”13
As the rescued Saints were traversing a portion of the trail through Echo Canyon, several wagons pulled off to assist in the arrival of a baby girl. Robert noticed the young mother did not have enough clothing to keep her newborn infant warm. In spite of the freezing temperatures, he “took off his own homespun shirt and gave it to the mother to [wrap] the baby.”14 The child was given the name Echo—Echo Squires—as a remembrance of the place and circumstances of her birth.
In later years Robert was called to the Presiding Bishopric of the Church, where he served for more than three decades. At age 86 Robert Taylor Burton fell ill. He gathered his family to his bedside to give them his final blessing. Among his last words was this simple but very profound counsel: “Be kind to the poor.”15

The day after I was called to serve as a stake mission president, my mother, who was unaware of my new calling, told me that she had dreamed about me. She said that in this dream I had received a new position of responsibility in my church and that an older man put his hands on my head as if he were anointing me while a roomful of people watched. Then I told her about my new calling and explained the process of being set apart. I said that I would probably be set apart by an older man. I was electrified when my mother said, “I would recognize him if I saw him.”
I invited my parents to attend the meeting. After Elder S. Dilworth Young set me apart, my mother wept as she said, “That was the man in my dream!” I took this opportunity to bear my testimony to my parents and to assure them that they need not worry about me. For the first time, my dad asked me several questions about the Church. My mom just cried tears of joy as we all enjoyed the Spirit of the Lord.

McLear was different from most deer. Most deer are timid, but McLear wasn’t afraid of anything!
He would go into the haunted house or jump off the high bridge over Blueberry Creek. He would even walk past the mean bull in the back pasture.
He could run faster down the slope and climb higher up the bluff than anyone else. So naturally when little Betty Bobcat climbed too high and was afraid to come down, everyone thought of McLear.
“McLear will rescue her,” cried Reggie Rabbit. He ran to get McLear.
“Come quick!” he shouted. “Betty is stuck on the bluff, and no one can get her down.”
When they reached the bluff, McLear saw that it was very steep and that the little bobcat was on a very narrow ledge. But he bravely climbed up and brought her down.
After that everyone said that he was the bravest deer in the whole world. And pretty soon he began to believe them!
But Willy Weasel did not like all the attention McLear got. One day Willy said, “I’ll bet you’re not brave enough to pick up Sulky Snake.”
“Pooh,” bragged McLear. “I’m not afraid.” He grabbed Sulky by his tail and held him high.
“Oh! McLear is the bravest deer in the whole universe!” cried Milly Meadow Mouse.
“Humph!” sniffed Grandfather Bear. “That’s not brave. That’s foolhardy. Some day he’ll pick up the wrong snake. Then he’ll learn that it’s sometimes smart to be afraid.”
McLear just laughed and took every dare his friends could think of. Once they dared him to sneak up on Sammy Skunk and scare him. Then they wouldn’t play with McLear for a week because he smelled so bad.
Another time Willy dared him to eat a red pepper in one bite.
“Don’t do it McLear!” cried Reggie.
McLear had never tasted a red pepper. But he didn’t want Willy to think that he was afraid, so he popped the whole pepper into his mouth and chomped. Suddenly he felt like he was on fire! He nearly drank Blueberry Creek dry, hoping his mouth and stomach would stop burning.
Willy and his friends rolled on the ground. They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks. McLear knew that they weren’t laughing because he’d been brave.
The next day the forest animals saw Percy Porcupine sleeping under a tree.
“McLear,” said Willy, “I dare you to sneak up and pat Percy’s tail.”
McLear looked at Percy’s prickly tail. Then he looked at Willy. Willy had a sly grin on his face. McLear gulped hard. “No!” he shouted. “You just want to see me get hurt so that you can laugh at me!”
The forest animals gasped.
“I never thought that McLear would be afraid of anything,” Reggie said sadly.
“I guess he’s losing his nerve.”
“You’re wrong, Reggie,” said Grandfather Bear. “That’s the bravest thing McLear has ever done. It takes more courage to say no than to take a foolish dare.”

Another way to learn about leadership is to choose good friends. “The best way to learn to be a good leader is to make sure you’re following the right crowd. Then you can step up and be a good leader, listen to them, and invite people to activities,” says Brad Smidt, 17, of the First Ward, Coeur d’Alene Stake. Kiyana Dickson, 18, of the Cheney First Ward, Spokane West Stake, remembers a successful activity in her stake where this principle was illustrated. “One of the best activities we had was a summer social when a lot of inactive and nonmember friends came because other people invited them to have fun with us. Now I talk to those kids all the time, and they smile more often. They go to activities and know how much fun they are.”

Then, the summer right before I turned 12, I went to girls’ camp with my ward’s Young Women.
We had time each night for scripture study in our tents, and I decided I was going to read the scriptures every night I was there. I began with the first words of the first verse that almost everyone has memorized: “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents …” (1 Ne. 1:1).
It was so incredible. I don’t know how, but the scriptures started making more sense. I felt how hard it would be if Heavenly Father commanded my family to leave our home and go somewhere so far away. I had always known the story of how the Lord commanded Nephi to go get the brass plates, but those three nights at camp I could actually see a young man going to an evil man’s home, needing the plates.
I have read the scriptures every night since girls’ camp. I haven’t forgotten, and if I accidentally turn off the light before I read my scriptures, I am not able to sleep. After I finish reading the Book of Mormon, I plan on reading the Bible.

When Australians Robert and Darice Dudfield arrived in Ethiopia in August 2020, they arrived in a country of about 120 million people—and not one missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the ground. Ethiopia’s four fledgling congregations had not met since the pandemic hit, and although the Book of Mormon was available in their language, Amharic, few other Church materials were.
The Dudfields knew that opening the new Ethiopia Addis Ababa Mission would be a great learning opportunity. They immediately got to work.
Soon after their arrival, eight Ethiopian elders and sisters were called to serve missions in their home country and received training via Zoom from Ghana. Only two months later, however, President Dudfield contracted a severe case of COVID-19.
Covered with vein-searching-bruises, he required oxygen and a month of hospitalization, and at times, Robert thought he wouldn’t make it. Darice put all such thoughts aside, “The Lord didn’t bring you to Ethiopia to die this early on!” she assured her husband. “You’ll get through this.”
It took another month of quarantining at home before he fully recovered. The Dudfields first setback taught them “there are tremendous lessons to be learned through trials. It’s all about our approach in dealing with our circumstances.”
In December 2020, Church services resumed, and the missionary force started growing, but so did political unrest, and President Russell M. Nelson ultimately decided the missionaries needed to move out of the country.
Miraculously, some of the missionaries serving in remote areas were able to fly to the nation’s capital before access to Addis Ababa was cut off. “On our mission, we learned that you’re never alone. The Lord is at the helm” recalled Darice. Missionaries who had been tested for COVID-19 were put on a plane to Kenya, where the Ethiopia mission was relocated.
They operated from Kenya, although most of their missionaries were reassigned temporarily to the Kenya Nairobi Mission. Those who remained in the Ethiopia mission used telephones and limited technology to connect with members and friends of the Church in Ethiopia, where local leaders took over the responsibility of missionary work.
Of the Kenya experience, senior missionaries, Elder and Sister Moyers said, “We experienced that unexpected and drastic change presses on our emotions, intellect, and especially our faith in our purpose . . . Being relocated is either a blessing or a challenge, and each missionary has the agency to choose which it will be for him or her.”
The Moyers served as member-leader support missionaries and helped to build the Church from within. President Dudfield said, “We learned the significant value of missionary service and the great value of senior couples. This is a call for those willing and able to serve. It changes your life.”
As things began to settle in Ethiopia, missionaries returned in stages. “Greeting the last of our missionaries back into Ethiopia at the end of June 2021 was an emotional and sacred experience,” the Dudfields recalled. The Church began to grow again, and the number of those consistently attending worship services increased from around 80 to over 400.
Reflecting on their three-year tenure in Ethiopia, the Dudfields’ saw the hand of the Lord bring great miracles to pass, including:
Relationships built with the ministry of peace, resulting in a $250,000 donation of funds for COVID-19 equipment plus ongoing support for important initiatives
Conferences and more frequent activities for youth, children, women, and young adults
Training to increase the quality of leadership and teaching
Seminary, institute, and the launch of the BYU-Pathway Worldwide program
Preparing 40 members to attend the temple for the first time
The translation of hymns and Church materials into local languages
A Light the World musical presentation, and a music video created for a Church global music festival
“What we learned from the people of Ethiopia . . . is that the things that are most important bring the greatest joy. Ethiopians are people of faith, with a great love for family and community.
“We see the countenance of Christ in images of Ethiopians and joy in their faces.”
On their decision to leave the Australia they love to help pioneer a path for future generations to the blessings of the gospel, the Dudfields testify, “We learned that we are all called where the Lord needs us. We absolutely felt His direction and guidance. We learned that faith precedes miracles. If we endure well, we will see many miracles.”

I also remember attending a meeting near Bancroft, Idaho, years ago. It was sponsored in part by the extension service of the University. We’d had a wonderful meeting, and after it was over, I was greeting some of the wonderful farmers who were there, and among them was a man by the name of Brother Yost, and I said, “Brother Yost, how are things out on the farm?” Brother Yost said, “Oh, things are fine, Brother Benson, but I’m about 20 thousand dollars worse off than I was three days ago.” I said, “What’s the matter—another frost?” He said, “Yes, it hit the wheat just in the dough stage, and you know what that means.” He said, “We’re starting the mowing machines in the morning, but everything’s all right. We’ve still got a little wheat in the bin, and we’ve got at least part of our year’s supply laid away. We’re not going to starve, and there’ll be another crop.” As we left him, I said to my wife, “What a wonderful spirit.”
We drove on down to Logan. We had our children with us, and we stopped on Main Street to go into a grocery store to pick up a few cookies for the kiddies. And who should I meet on the sidewalk but Brother Yost. I said, “Well, what are you doing way down here?” He said, “Brother Benson, it’s our day to go to the temple.” And I said, “Well, reverses don’t dampen your spirit any, do they?” Then he taught me a lesson. He said, “Brother Benson, when reverses come we need the temple all the more.”

“My father was the greatest influence on me. He was such an example of one who quietly serves! He would sit back and listen to everybody’s opinion and then make a wise judgment. One day I decided I didn’t want go to sacrament meeting. My father wasn’t alarmed. He only said, ‘Just remember that when you don’t go once, it’s easier not to go the next time. That’s how we can fall into bad habits. I would suggest that you go every time, and then you won’t have to keep remaking that choice.’ That’s all it took. I didn’t argue with him, and I didn’t feel unhappy about going to church that day—or any other day. And l’ve always remembered that advice when I’ve been tempted.

It was a spring day in Helsinki, Finland. The sun was shining brightly, and the snow was melting fast. For hours I had been working with my boys, Juha, eight, and Hannu, six, to keep melting snow from flooding our cellar. The nearby drain that should have handled the pooling water was still frozen solid.
As my husband left for work that morning, he told us to make sure we kept the water out of the cellar. We worked hard until the afternoon, when it was time to leave for Primary. (At that time Primary was held on a weekday.) I told my boys, however, that they would have to miss Primary in order to help stop the water from getting into the cellar. Besides, my husband wasn’t a member of the Church, and he would not understand how important Primary was to our sons.
In unison, Juha and Hannu assured me that if we went to Primary, Heavenly Father would see to it that the water wouldn’t reach the cellar. I looked back and forth from the pooling water to the faith-filled faces of my sons. Part of me said, “You cannot go because no power can stop the water from flooding the cellar.” I appealed to Heavenly Father with a prayer in my heart. Then I made a difficult decision.
“We are going to Primary now!” I declared as I threw down the buckets. No matter what happened, I was not going to injure my children’s faith.
The boys had a wonderful time at Primary. But as we drove home afterward, the closer we got to our house, the more my fears grew. Reaching the yard, the boys ran quickly to the cellar door. Looking down, they cried out, “Mother, what did we tell you?” I hurried over. I will never forget the sight that greeted my eyes. The area was completely dry, as if it had been mopped. There were no signs of water anywhere. Even now, 40 years later, it is hard for me to believe what I saw.
The glow in my boys’ eyes reflected joy and trust in Heavenly Father. Joy—and gratitude—filled my heart too!
No power in the world can beat childlike faith. The scriptures say that if we believe and doubt not, we can move a mountain (see Matthew 17:20). That day the power of my children’s faith stopped a flood.

In my senior year I started every game. We went 9-2-1, were nationally ranked, and went to the All-American Bowl in Birmingham, Alabama.
Before the game in Birmingham they have lots of festivities for the players. One of the activities was a Fellowship of Christian Athletes breakfast that was open to the public, and there were several hundred—probably a thousand—people there.
The night before, as I was saying my prayers, I felt that somehow I was going to speak at that breakfast. I didn’t know anything about the program, but I prayed that if I was called on, the Lord would be with me and I would be able to share something that would uplift those in attendance.
We got up early and went to the breakfast, and I was really enjoying it. When Coach Hydrick came up to me with a big smile on his face, I knew exactly what he was going to ask.
“Sam,” he said, “I was wondering if you would give a brief talk about your testimony and your relationship with the Lord.”
I said, “I’d love to.” Then I looked at my buddies at the table and realized that I’d never spoken to an audience of non-Mormons before. I had this extreme paranoia come over me, and I wondered what I was going to say.
As they introduced me and I walked up there before all those people, I felt weak all over. I don’t remember what exactly I said. I know I told them about the Savior and how he’d taken upon himself the sins of all mankind. I was doing pretty well emotionally until I started talking about my teammates. Then I started to cry because I loved them. I closed in the sacred name of the Savior.
Suddenly, I heard people start saying, “Amen,” “Hallelujah,” “Praise the Lord!” I was a little shocked at first. But then I saw people were crying, and I was crying, and it was a wonderful experience. After the breakfast, many people told me what I had said impressed them. I was just grateful that the Lord was able to touch their hearts.

Sometimes cities and nations bear special labels of identity. Such was a cold and very old city in eastern Canada. The missionaries called it “Stony Kingston.” There had been but one convert to the Church in six years, even though missionaries had been continuously assigned there during the entire interval. No one baptized in Kingston. Just ask any missionary who labored there. Time in Kingston was marked on the calendar like days in prison. A missionary transfer to another place—any place—would be uppermost in thoughts, even in dreams.
While I was praying about and pondering this sad dilemma, for my responsibility then as a mission president required that I pray and ponder about such things, my wife called to my attention an excerpt from the book A Child’s Story of the Prophet Brigham Young. She read aloud that Brigham Young (1801–77) entered Kingston, Ontario, on a cold and snow-filled day. He labored there about 30 days and baptized 45 souls.9 Here was the answer. If the missionary Brigham Young could accomplish this harvest, so could the missionaries of today.
Without providing an explanation, I withdrew the missionaries from Kingston, that the cycle of defeat might be broken. Then the carefully circulated word: “Soon a new city will be opened for missionary work, even the city where Brigham Young proselyted and baptized 45 persons in 30 days.” The missionaries speculated as to the location. Their weekly letters pleaded for the assignment to this Shangri-la. More time passed. Then four carefully selected missionaries—two of them new, two of them experienced—were chosen for this high adventure. The members of the small branch pledged their support. The missionaries pledged their lives. The Lord honored both.
In the space of three months, Kingston became the most productive city of the Canadian Mission. The grey limestone buildings still stood; the city had not altered its appearance; the population remained constant. The change was one of attitude. The label of doubt yielded to the label of faith.

Rrriiinnnggg! Rriiinnnggg! The recess bell rang. Monroe and her friends put on their coats. They hurried outside to play.
It was winter. It was cold. Monroe put on her fuzzy pink gloves. She was glad she had gloves to keep her hands warm.
Monroe and her friends had fun on the swings and the slippery slide. But Monroe saw that some of her friends weren’t wearing gloves. Their hands were red and cold. She wished she had gloves for their hands too.
After school Monroe had an idea. She asked Mom, “Can I take extra gloves to school tomorrow?”
“Why?” Mom asked.
“Some of my friends didn’t have gloves today,” Monroe said. “They can borrow mine to keep their hands warm.”
“That’s a nice thing to do,” Mom said. They found all the gloves they could. They put them in Monroe’s backpack.
The next day at recess, Monroe shared the gloves with her friends. It was still cold outside, but the gloves kept their hands warm. Monroe was happy to share her gloves. As she played, her hands felt warm. And now, her heart did too.

It was only two days before the junior prom, and all the junior class was looking forward to one of the great events in the life of a high school girl.
To make it an even more memorable experience, the senior boys had drawn up a list of all the girls in the junior class. They made it their duty to be sure that each girl had a date. It was a wonderful gesture, and because of them, every girl in the junior class had a date. Everyone but me, that is.
Somehow I had been overlooked. The knowledge of that only added to my embarrassment, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone, not even my closest friends. I felt sure I would be able to live through this and simply hide away in my room for the night eating peanut butter cups. Everyone would be too caught up in the spectacular evening to realize I wasn’t there.
But that plan was also not to be my fate. I was reminded that the junior girls on the drill team were required to perform the "Couples Dance" after the introduction of class members. I would have to go to the prom without an escort, perform the dance, and leave by myself. Everyone in the world would know that I didn’t have a date to that all-important dance.
Two nights before the prom I locked myself in my room to perform the peanut butter cup ritual that I had earlier envisioned would take place on the night of the prom. I lit a solemn candle as a reminder that I alone carried this humiliating burden. Before I could take the first pitiful bite of candy, the tears were already racing down my face. What a lonely, sad creature I was. What a terrible day to remember and someday explain to my grandchildren, "Oh yes, the junior prom is a night I will never forget." I pictured myself quickly changing the subject with them so they wouldn’t know what a reject their old granny had been.
But as I sobbed in the middle of the greatest agony I had experienced in my young life, a wonderful, warm feeling of peace and love engulfed me. There were no words spoken to my mind, but suddenly I had full knowledge that I was not alone. My Savior was aware of my sorrow, very much aware. He had not forsaken me even when the outcome was not essential to my salvation. He cared enough for me to let me know He shared in my pain.
What a spectacular knowledge this was. Suddenly, my memories of the prom would not be as tarnished as I had imagined. One of the greatest truths of my life had been taught to me in a very special, loving way.
After that moment of sadness, everything changed. The next day the error was discovered and quickly rectified. Several boys apologized and insisted that they thought I already had a date. They were very thoughtful and concerned, and soon I had an escort.
The night of the prom was great, but it was nothing compared to what I had just experienced. Even though the decorations were beautiful, my dress was perfect, and I had that all-important date, that night could never compare to the feeling I had when the Spirit bore witness of the great love my Savior has for me. His love never fails, even when our pain is temporary, or even seemingly silly. It wasn’t essential to my salvation to go to the prom, but it is essential to know of the great love the Lord has for each of us. Now I know I’ll be able to truthfully tell my grandchildren that the junior prom was one of the greatest experiences of my life.

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.

Dene has two sets of proud grandparents in England who keep scrapbooks of his achievements and are always eager for news of his progress. His Grandfather and Grandmother Wood recently came to the states for a long vacation. They were able to see Dene play both football and soccer, and Dene was able to hear some stories of the old days again.

His granddad is both a cheerleader and a critic. “I’ve always believed in telling the truth,” he says. “When he deserves it, I praise him, and when he deserves it, I kick him in the pants.” It is a spring afternoon and Dene, his mother and father and grandmother and grandfather are sitting out on the front lawn. His grandfather smiles. “Wasn’t that a marvelous goal last night?” he asks. “Sometimes I tell him that he’s rubbish, but when he scores a goal like that, what more can you say? I’m proud of him, of course. He likes sports, and to me you can’t go wrong that way. A bit of sport and you’re on the right road. My daughter always writes to us in England and gives us an account of what he’s doing, and I share it with everybody. It gives me a tremendous amount of pleasure to see him excel.” He looks Dene over appraisingly and then adds, “He’s a fine looking lad, isn’t he?”

Dene goes into the house and proudly comes out with a treasured championship medal from his grandfather’s soccer days. As first grandson, he has received it as a birthright.

“I’ve always been proud of him,” his Grandmother Wood says. “He was our first grandson, and with me having three girls, it was really something that was delightful to have someone to carry on grandpa’s participation in sports. When Dene turned out to enjoy playing football, well of course it was just the thing. I knew grandpa would be delighted, which of course he was. I think sports give young men a good backing for life, a wider scope of give and take. If you’re a sportsman, you can both give it and take it, can’t you? And a team sport teaches you to play as a team and not be selfish. I’m proud of all my grandchildren.”

With Eduardo’s baptism in 1987 came a desire to strengthen his testimony by reading the Book of Mormon. “How do I learn to read?” he asked his wife. María told him to look at the letters, put them together in his mind, try to sound out words, and then attempt to read aloud. With practice, she assured him, he would eventually learn to read.
Eduardo, then 45, knew the sounds of many letters, but he had not attempted to read since leaving school nearly four decades before.
With a prayer in his heart, Eduardo sat down one hot summer day in a shady spot in the backyard of his home. “There,” he says, “I determined to make the attempt.”
María says she never would have imagined what happened next. As she worked in the kitchen, she listened off and on as Eduardo attempted to sound out letters and words. “Suddenly I heard him speaking rapidly,” she says. “I listened and realized that he was reading—fluently. Less than half an hour had passed, and he was reading!”
Eduardo was so immersed in his attempt that he hadn’t realized he was reading. But as he read, he recalls, “I felt a fire burning within me.” Frightened and surprised, Eduardo called to his wife, “Mami, what is happening to me?”
“It’s the Spirit of the Lord,” María replied. “You are reading fluently!”
As she recalls the experience, María says, “It was something we can never deny.”
Eduardo adds, “The day I learned to read is also the day I gained my testimony of the Book of Mormon and its power.”

One Sunday morning, an email from FamilySearch arrived in my inbox. It spoke of my great-great-grandfather, Thomas Jefferson Thurston. I learned that he was buried in St. George, Utah, USA, where I was serving as a historic-site missionary. Exploring further on my family tree, I discovered that Thomas moved to St. George in 1880 at the age of 75 to be close to the St. George Utah Temple. I also learned that Thomas built one of the first pine homes in St. George. I was excited and intrigued because these details were all new to me since I was familiar with Thomas only by name.
I wanted to find his headstone the next day. Early in the day I said, “Let’s wait to go after we have served at the Jacob Hamblin House” (one of the historic sites where I served). A short time later I felt prompted to say, “Let’s go now.”
Having seen a picture of Thomas’s headstone on FamilySearch.org, the headstone was surprisingly easy to find. While standing beside the headstone I noticed a lady hurrying toward me. At the headstone of our ancestor, we discovered we were third cousins once removed. We hugged, laughed, and took pictures together. I felt that I was guided by the Holy Ghost, especially in timing, to arrive at the cemetery before Susan, my newfound cousin, left the cemetery.
I left the cemetery with excited anticipation to go directly to the address listed on FamilySearch where my great-great-grandfather had lived. There stood his home. It had been 140 years since he’d begun construction on the home. Seeing his house, I felt unanticipated emotions of connection and love for my great-great-grandfather.
A plaque at the front of the lot confirmed that this was the home he built. As I was reading the plaque, the owner of the home drove out of the driveway. He stopped and I said I was a great-great-granddaughter of the builder of this home. The man kindly offered to show me the home. I was able to see and touch the home of my great-great-grandfather who was born in 1805.
I walked on the original pine floor in the living room. I looked through original windowpanes. I walked up steep historic steps to the second level. In the quiet, I imagined my ancestors eating, sleeping, and learning the gospel in this home. If I had arrived minutes later, I would not have been invited into the home where Thomas had lived. My Heavenly Father was in the details as I visited the home of my great-great-grandfather and felt a closeness to him beyond anything I had imagined.
I thought of the words of Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles: “Our desires, faithfulness, and obedience invite and help us to discern His mercies in our lives. … Each of us can have eyes to see clearly and ears to hear distinctly the tender mercies of the Lord as they strengthen and assist us in these latter days.”1
In just over 24 hours, I had connected with my Great-great-grandfather Thurston. I learned of his obedience, sacrifices, and accomplishments. FamilySearch was my source to learn about him, but the whisperings of the Spirit connected me to my heritage. The love my Heavenly Father manifested to me strengthened me and will remain in my memory forever. I know the series of events and the details of my day were blessings from the Lord.

But Tavita excelled not only because of his love for the sports, but because he taught himself strict discipline. That discipline helped him learn Cantonese while still preparing to enter the Hong Kong Mission. “When I got my call to Hong Kong, my next thought was, ‘What is a 120-kilo Samoan going to do there?” But I knew that was where Heavenly Father wanted me to serve.”
At the beginning, Tavita had difficulty learning the language. It was frustrating to not be able to communicate his strong feelings about the gospel. “Through patience and prayer I learned to endure. The relationship between my Heavenly Father and me grew closer, more than I ever thought it could. My knees literally had calluses on them.”
Patience and long-suffering helped him succeed on his mission. These attributes have continued to help him succeed in his college studies and football career. During high school, he thought he had to prove something. But now all he feels he needs to prove is his worthiness to his Heavenly Father.

Laura was looking out the window when she heard Sister Warren say, “Laura, can you guess from the clues I’ve just given whom we will learn about in our lesson today?”
Rob started to laugh. “Perfect little Laura wasn’t listening!” he teased.
Laura could feel her face getting hot. She whirled around and faced Rob. “Even when you do listen, you never know any answers!” she snapped.
When Primary was over, Sister Warren asked Laura and Rob to stay for a moment. She wrote “Mosiah 27:3–4” on two small pieces of paper. She handed one to each of the children, saying, “During King Mosiah’s reign, a strict command was given to all the church members. Will you find out what it was? Then I’d like both of you to read this scripture aloud to the Primary next week.”
Laura found the scripture and read it carefully. The parts she understood best were: “There should be an equality among all men” and “every man should esteem his neighbor as himself.”
Laura thought about Rob. She had been unkind. Sometimes she thought she was a better person than Rob because she usually knew the right answers.
When Rob read the scriptures in his Book of Mormon, he knew that making fun of Laura had been wrong. He felt bad when he remembered how embarrassed she had been. At Primary the next week, Sister Warren began by saying, “Did you know that there are over five billion people who live in this world right now? Did you know that every single one of them is different? Heavenly Father created each person and loves everyone.
“When we treat each other with respect, honor, and love, we are showing reverence for Heavenly Father. We must be courteous and kind to every person, even those who may seem to be very different from us.”
Then the class played a game called “We Are Different.” When the game was over, Sister Warren asked Laura and Rob to read the scriptures in Mosiah to the Primary. Then Sister Warren said, “Some of you may have noticed how courteous Laura and Rob were as they helped you play this game. Their example helps us see how treating all people with respect is a good way to show reverence for Heavenly Father and Jesus.”