Gospel Story Finder

From the first penny that I put in my mission savings jar, I knew I wanted to serve. I had saved money for 12 years when the announcement came that sisters could serve at age 19. Although I wasn’t sure if the time was right for me, the Lord answered my prayers, and I felt inspired to start my mission papers.
I wanted my mission call to be right for me and knew that being honest with my Church leaders, especially about my health, would be the only way to feel at peace. I have epilepsy, a condition that causes unpredictable seizures. Fortunately, my condition is completely controlled by medicine. Still, it was possible that my dependence on it could limit where I could be assigned to serve.
Imagine my surprise when I was called to serve in the Dominican Republic Santo Domingo East Mission! There was a problem though: I found out that my medication wasn’t available in the Dominican Republic. I was confused. Why would the Lord inspire Church leaders to send me somewhere that didn’t have my medication?
My family and I prayed together for an answer. I felt a strong conviction that the Lord really wanted me to serve in the Dominican Republic, so we went to work. My doctor wrote me an 18-month prescription, but our insurance would only pay for a year’s worth of medication, leaving us to pay for the last 6 months. As we moved forward with faith, we eventually found an affordable option.
When I was set apart, my stake president blessed me that my condition would not affect me during my mission—a promise that I can testify was fulfilled. Although I was stretched to my physical limits, I know that through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I was able to overcome the challenges I faced before and during my mission.

I have always enjoyed reading the New Era, but not until recently have I realized how much goes into putting it together.
Our seminary visited the Church Office Building in Salt Lake City and went on the floors involved in putting together the magazines. We were amazed at all of the friendly people and all of the time and effort they put into making each issue the best possible.
After seeing all of this effort firsthand, I will always appreciate the New Era and be sure I read it from cover to cover.
Rebecca ClarkMidland, Michigan

“Our family home was on the foothill of a solitary, beehive-shaped mountain that was a moving force all of my young life. I could see it from my bedroom window and felt a certain security in its closeness. As our family sat at the kitchen table, we watched winter skiers mark herringbone trails in fresh snow, and after the first thaw we’d note the progress of spring hikers. I had climbed its bald dome with my family, with Church groups, and with a gang of kids (our sack lunches squashed down into the sweaters we wore tied about our waists). Then one day—driven by desire to go to the mount, like Moses, to commune with God, to consider who I was and what I was going to do about it—I set out alone to climb that peak. I was 16, and this day my aloneness on that mountain was exhilarating. It was a most spectacular spring morning at sunrise when I made my way to the top. This was no small hill, so the perspective of my neighborhood below reminded me of the soap model I had carved of Salt Lake City when I was 12.
“With fascination I sat looking down at the houses I knew so well and at their people beginning to stir with the sun. Cars backed out, sprinklers splashed on, the trolley clanged up from town. I watched the achingly familiar scenes as an extension of myself. I followed the paths of my life, from home to a friend’s house, to the church on the corner and the school down the hill, to the neighborhood store, to a teacher who had touched me. Finally, I let myself look upon our own stucco house, the scene of my most tender times, my most important learnings. Almost in panic I realized how small it looked, and with a wrench of my heart I felt childhood slipping from my grasp.
“Everywhere I looked was someone who had touched my life. At 16 I was the sum of them—parents, school chums, storekeeper, Church leader. My heart flooded with a new awareness. Suddenly I realized I had some debts to pay. In 1847 Brigham Young had led a band of pioneers to the top of the mountain and raised an ensign to the Lord, according to the plaque mounted there. Well, I raised my own standard that day. I vowed that I would try to be useful. I knew I needed the help of God, and when I turned to him, my soul filled with an awareness that he lives, that he cares even about a little person sitting on a mountain thinking she can make a difference in the world. When I came down off the mountain the world seemed beautiful, and I was glad to be alive.”

Perseverance is demonstrated by those who keep going when the going gets tough, who don’t give up even when others say, “It can’t be done.” In 1864 the First Presidency assigned Apostles Ezra T. Benson and Lorenzo Snow, along with Elders Alma Smith and William W. Cluff, on a mission to the Hawaiian Islands. From Honolulu they took passage on a small boat to the little harbor of Lahaina. As they approached the reef, the surf was running high and a heavy swell struck the boat, carrying it about 50 yards and leaving it in a trough between two huge waves. When the second swell struck, the boat capsized into the foaming sea.

The people on the shore manned a lifeboat and picked up three of the brethren, who were swimming near the submerged boat. But there was no sign of Brother Snow. Hawaiians accustomed to the surf swam in every direction to search for him. Eventually one of them felt something in the water, and they pulled Brother Snow to the surface. His body was stiff, and he looked like he was dead as they hauled him into the boat.

Elder Smith and Elder Cluff laid Brother Snow’s body across their laps and quietly administered to him, asking the Lord to spare his life that he might return to his family and home. When they reached the shore, they carried Brother Snow to some large empty barrels lying on the beach. Laying him face downwards on one of them, they rolled him back and forth to expel the water he had swallowed.

After the elders worked over him for some time, without any indication of life, the bystanders said that nothing more could be done for him. But the determined elders would not give up. So they prayed again, with the quiet assurance that the Lord would hear and answer their prayers.

They were impressed to do something rather unusual for that day and time. One of them placed his mouth over Brother Snow’s in an effort to inflate his lungs, alternately blowing in and drawing out air, imitating the natural process of breathing. Taking turns, they persevered until they succeeded in inflating his lungs. A little while later they perceived faint indications of returning life. “A slight wink of the eye, which, until then, had been open and death-like, and a very faint rattle in the throat, were the first symptoms of returning vitality. These grew more and more distinct, until consciousness was fully restored.” With their perseverance and the smile of merciful Providence, all four of the Lord’s servants survived and were able to complete their missions.

Elder Snow went on to become the President of the Church. While serving in that office, he stabilized the Church’s funds by urging the members to pay their tithes and offerings.

It was a bright, clear morning, and I was preparing to give a bridal shower. I love giving parties—any kind, any time, any number of people. Why, then, couldn’t I shake this black heaviness that kept threatening to reduce me to tears? A recent family problem had brought my husband and me many sleepless nights and much despair, and we had been pleading with the Lord for help.
Although I had offered silent prayers all morning, I could not suppress my anguish. Past experience had taught me that a kind Heavenly Father could lift me from the depths when I was sufficiently in tune. But there was little time left before I would need to have pulled myself together to look after my guests.
Only an hour before the party, I looked up to see the Relief Society compassionate service leader coming up the path. She looked at me for a long moment and said, “I felt I needed to come see you this morning.” My first thought was that there must be some problem. I was the Relief Society president, and I knew I must take whatever time was needed.
Then Norma’s arms were around me. She held me and told me how much she loved me. This dear woman had been quietly putting her arms around sisters in need for a long time. Many had recounted their joy at having her appear miraculously when they needed her most.
Now I was encircled by her love when I needed it most. The tears I had been fighting all morning ran freely. But what had been tears of desperation and pain now turned to the sweet release that cleanses the soul and brightens the outlook.
Ten minutes later she was off down the walk, and I knew that an angel had ministered to my needs that day.

A few years ago, while sitting with our children at tithing settlement, our bishop invited our 10-year-old son to take a small picture of the Savior and decide where in our home to place it, where it would be a constant reminder of our family’s commitment to follow Him. After returning home, he placed the picture on the front door, where, our son said, “each of us would see it the most.” This has been a great blessing and constant reminder to all of us every day in a small but powerful way of our promises to follow Jesus Christ.

“Play some defense! Make your free throws! Run harder!”
The smell of sweat and the sound of whistles filled the high school gym. Basketball tryouts came around quickly that November.
I wanted to quit the team. The previous year our team had gone to the California State playoffs, but this season would be much different. I reluctantly ended up as the only senior on the varsity team and was asked to serve as team captain. It was okay at first, but after a while, losing got really old, really fast. I started having a major attitude, and it was reflected in the way I performed.
It wasn’t just about basketball though—I was struggling off the court as well. I hated the idea of having to stick to rules and schedules. Each day started with the dreaded five A.M. alarm clock, dark mornings in our broken-down Volvo, and early-morning seminary. Then it was off to school, with tons of hard classes and annoying people. Playing ball was not my first priority, when so many other things seemed to be weighing me down.
After a few months, I was trying to decide if I should just quit the basketball team. I talked to my dad about it. “Your attitude can change everything if you let it,” he said. I didn’t know what he meant at first. I wasn’t the one making us lose! Then I heard a talk in Young Women class that really hit home. It was about having a positive attitude and how it not only affects your situation but also others around you.
From that point on, I decided to change the way I was looking at things both in and out of basketball. I started to go to Mutual again and tried to support other youth activities, and I prayed that I could be more optimistic in seminary and school.
Most importantly, I realized I could learn from trials and become better through them. Instead of complaining about losing, I started working harder at practice. Soon others noticed, and it helped the whole team become more unified because everyone saw that I was continuing to try even though we were still not winning.
Our basketball team didn’t win a single game that year, but it turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life. With a change in attitude, both on and off the court, I learned to be a more positive person in dealing with difficult things. I did not miraculously make our team better, but a change in my attitude really affected the younger players around me. The season was successful because of the friendships we formed and the way we were still able to have fun when most people would have given up.

Reading the conversion accounts can’t help but touch you. How can anyone remain unexcited as he follows Brother John Staley’s account of when he first heard about the Church after being a Catholic priest for twenty-five years: “Never having heard that term before, I had to ask her, ‘What is a Latter-day Saint?’ She replied, ‘I’m one, a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. …’
“From that point our discussions in theology veered sharply away from Catholicism as she adroitly led me into a new search by quoting from Lorenzo Snow, a past president of her Church: ‘As man is, God once was; as God is, man may become.’ My spring was unsprung! President Snow had outdistanced Tellhard by a spiritual light-year! His was the most profound set of words I had heard in my life—and all my adult years had been spent studying theology, philosophy, and sociology!
“… What a vision this opened! What excitement shook me! This struck at the heart of my difficulties as a Catholic theologian and sociologist. Snow’s statement went further than anything I had dreamed. I had considered Tellhard as one of the great contemporary thinkers, and here in twelve short words was a vision that eclipsed his farthest reach.”

by Barbara Marler
“Threads of Forever” was the theme of a special service project undertaken at a biregional Young Women’s conference for the Dallas and Fort Worth Texas regions.
Ninety quilts were completed by 1,200 Young Women. Girls from 8 stakes and 72 wards steadfastly stitched for 9 months with the goal of donating their handiwork to homeless children.
The quilts were presented in a special luncheon. A local television broadcaster accepted the quilts on behalf of homeless children. In his acceptance, the newsman said, “Children become homeless because of unfortunate events in their past. They are victims of neglect or even abuse. For many of these children, this could be the first time that someone has truly cared.”
At first, the prospect of creating numerous quilts was a little overwhelming to some of the girls. Many had never quilted and felt that quilting was something that only grandmothers did. But the project turned out to be more fun than work.
The young men and women from the Honshu Japan Servicemen’s district held their annual youth conference in Tokyo. For many of the youth who came long distances, it was the first time they had seen Tokyo. In addition to discussion workshops held on a variety of subjects, the youth went to the Tokyo Temple to do baptisms for the dead. After three days of sightseeing and enjoying each other’s company, the highlight of the conference was the testimony meeting where the participants were able to express their feelings about the gospel.
Young men in the teachers quorum of the Draper Fifth Ward, Draper Utah Stake, felt a need to be unified. The younger members of the quorum did not feel close to the older members. In a few days of vacation from school, the group decided to explore a nearby part of their state together. Through shared experience they hoped to find new friendships.
The group drove a few hours south into a strangely bleak and beautiful area of Canyonlands National Park. With red sandstone cliffs, twisted pinnacles of rock, and flat-topped mesas, the land was as dramatic as they had hoped for.
The late nights spent talking around the campfire and the days filled with exploring the Anasazi Indian ruins and swimming in the nearby rivers served as a common ground around which new friendships could grow. Through the fun of being together, the group found new unity.

Some years ago, I prayed for the words to defend motherhood when I received an anonymous phone call.
The caller asked, “Are you Neill Marriott, the mother of a big family?”
I answered happily, “Yes!” expecting to hear her say something like, “Well, that’s good!”
But no! I’ll never forget her reply as her voice crackled over the phone: “I am highly offended that you would bring children onto this overcrowded planet!”
“Oh,” I sputtered, “I see how you feel.”
She snapped, “No—you don’t!”
I then whimpered, “Well, maybe I don’t.”
She started on a rant about my foolish choice to be a mother. As she went on, I began to pray for help, and a gentle thought came to mind: “What would the Lord say to her?” I then felt I was standing on solid ground and gained courage at the thought of Jesus Christ.
I replied, “I am glad to be a mother, and I promise you I will do everything in my power to nurture my children in such a way that they will make the world a better place.”
She replied, “Well, I hope you do!” and hung up.
It wasn’t a big thing—after all, I was standing safely in my own kitchen! But in my own small way, I was able to speak in defense of family, mothers, and nurturers because of two things: (1) I understood and believed God’s doctrine of the family, and (2) I prayed for words to convey these truths.

In the Book of Mormon, the Liahona provides Lehi and his family with a clear vision of the Lord’s path. In similar fashion, a group of young single adults from Utah helped Dr. Robert Christiansen, M.D., an LDS ophthalmologist from Salt Lake City, Utah, and his family give vision spiritually and physically in South America.
The Liahona Eye Care Mission, a privately operated group, consisted of 23 young single adults and the eight members of the Christiansen family. They offered “helping hands” in differing service projects during an August 2005 trip to Brazil and Argentina. The Christiansen family has invited single adults on various service trips to South and Central America for the past four years.
On one leg of their service trip, in El Dorado, Argentina, the group provided free eye exams and glasses. The Argentina trip was organized with the help of local members who rallied local news outlets and community leaders to publicize the service project.
Because of the widespread announcements of the free eye exams, it is estimated that more than 1,300 people benefited from the service provided by the Liahona group during their brief visit to Argentina.
In Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, the group assisted in the renovation of an old playground at a small preschool. Local Church members helped organize the day of service. The local members proved invaluable as they helped bridge the language gap. Side by side, the members of the group meticulously painted the faded yellow playground equipment, walls, and playhouse a bright blue and white.
Some members of the community watched curiously. Many hearts and doors were opened to the missionaries because of the display of service that transformed the public preschool.
Shannon Christiansen, who led the group with her husband, Robert, said of the experience, “What touched my heart was realizing that we were with our brothers and sisters, and we could all feel the love of being part of God’s eternal family.”

When I was seven, a girl moved into my neighborhood, and we became friends. We both liked the same things, and we were a good influence on each other. We made good choices because our parents had taught us to choose wisely.
Once we got into sixth grade though, we made wrong choices in order to fit in with our friends who had lower standards. The next year, I decided that I needed to change friends so I could start making right choices again by living higher standards. The only problem was that my friend and I were still friends, and I didn’t want to stop hanging out with her.
Doing what I needed to do was hard. I had been told all my life to pick good friends and keep my standards high. But I did not have a testimony of why this was important, so I had to trust that it was correct. Over the summer and during eighth grade, we stopped hanging out as much and chose separate directions.
I saw the blessings of this decision later that year. My former friends decided to bring alcohol to school. They convinced some other girls to drink it, and they all got in trouble. I realized that one of those girls could have been me. If I had been with them, I don’t know if I would have had the strength to stand up for my beliefs.
When I think of the consequences I would have had to face, I feel overwhelmed. I could have struggled with addiction, been in trouble with the law, lost my parents’ trust, but most of all, I could have betrayed the trust Heavenly Father has in me.
I know that what the prophet says about living high standards is for our protection. Even though we may see it as inconvenient, it helps us spiritually, physically, mentally, and in other ways we don’t even realize.

I was perplexed. Who was this active French family, and why was the mother crediting me with being involved in her conversion? They were not among the individuals or families I remembered teaching or seeing baptized in France. With dim hopes, I consulted the little diary in which I had written a few sentences at the end of each day. Among my entries during the summer of 1964, I finally found mention of the Desmurs.
“July 8. Made return visits and gave good first lesson to Mme. Desmurs in Grand Chene.
“July 9. Gave first four points to M. Desmurs—a challenging man.
That entry stirred my memory. I could remember no faces but vaguely remembered the house. My new companion did not speak any French, and it had been challenging to teach alone. I had covered only four out of twelve points of the lesson, and the husband had challenged every statement I made. I recalled walking home, trying to explain to a discouraged companion that not everyone who asks us back to teach them is ready to accept our message.
“July 21. Did six hours of tracting. Met with the Desmurs family. She is sweet and believing. He is very stubborn.
“July 26. Missionary program at American Branch. Visited inactive family … and the Desmurs.
“July 29. Second lesson with Desmurs. We’re ready to give up.”
Frequently missionaries meet a family where one member is receptive, yet the resistance of others is such that there is no choice but to move on to those who are ready to accept the baptism challenge. So it was with the Desmurs.

I came home from my mission mistakenly feeling that I could check patience off my list of lessons to learn. The thing about patience, though, is that it’s not a lesson we learn only once. Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles gave a talk on patience, and I read it for the first time after a rather discouraging breakup with someone I had been dating. I was feeling heartbroken and a little hopeless, and at that point, the last thing I thought I needed was a reminder to be patient. Surprisingly, though, Elder Maxwell’s insights on patience taught me some powerful concepts that totally changed my perspective (once again) and helped me recommit to patience.
For example, I learned that committing to patience doesn’t mean we shrug our shoulders and give up hope. Elder Maxwell taught: “Patience is not indifference. Actually, it means caring very much but being willing, nevertheless, to submit to the Lord and to what the scriptures call the ‘process of time.’”1 I had always thought of patience as a somewhat passive response to life’s experiences, a sort of relenting. But patience is not relenting. Patience is a manifestation of inner strength and devotion to the Lord.
Elder Maxwell also taught: “Patience is a willingness, in a sense, to watch the unfolding purposes of God with a sense of wonder and awe, rather than pacing up and down within the cell of our circumstance. Put another way, too much anxious opening of the oven door and the cake falls instead of rising. So it is with us. If we are always selfishly taking our temperature to see if we are happy, we will not be.”2 This idea really resonated with me (and not just because I am an impatient baker). It’s discouraging when plans fall through or don’t pan out as expected. To our mortal minds, divine timing can be hard to understand. But what I can understand is that God is a loving Father who has a plan that guarantees eventual happiness if we are faithful, and I am learning to accept His timing with confidence—not with anxiousness.
Because patience tests us at a very personal level, our focus is often inward. But Elder Maxwell taught that “patience also helps us to realize that while we may be ready to move on, having had enough of a particular learning experience, our continued presence is often needed as a part of the learning environment of others.”3 Not only do we need patience, but others also need our patience or the example of our patience. This idea had never dawned on me, and it helped me to view patience as a noble quality, very closely tied to charity, the pure love of Christ, which “never faileth” (Moroni 7:46).

As a child, I enjoyed writing to my grandmother. She lived across the country, so I rarely saw her more than once a year. But as a teenager, I gradually became too busy to write, and our relationship slowly faded. When Grandma would come to visit for a few days, I would occasionally ask her a question or make a comment, but our conversations were seldom genuine or heartfelt. By the time I turned 16, I barely knew her, and I didn’t know how to talk to her.
On the last day of one of her visits, I was alone in the kitchen preparing dinner when she came in and sat down. I greeted her, but afterward I found myself at a loss for words. I could tell that she wanted to talk to me and had probably been seeking an opportunity for some time, but how was I supposed to strike up a conversation with a 75-year-old woman with whom I thought I had nothing in common?
I commented on what I was cooking, but that subject didn’t last long. Finally, I asked Grandma about what her life was like at my age. She told me stories about work and social activities, then talked about meeting my grandfather and falling in love. I realized that her life and desires as a teenager weren’t that different from my own.
A few months later, President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, spoke about grandparents in general conference. In his talk, “The Golden Years,” he spoke of the wisdom and guidance older members of the Church can provide. His theme made me reflect on my relationship with my grandmother, and I realized I was missing out on a valuable friendship.
I decided to write to Grandma again. I still wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I just wrote about work, friends, family, and what I was doing. She responded to each of my letters and told me about other relatives, her garden, and her day-to-day activities. The next time we were together, talking to her was easy.
I’m grateful for the conference talk that came at a time when I was ready and willing to get to know my grandmother again. Through President Packer’s words, I realized that I had overlooked the “priceless resource of experience, wisdom, and inspiration”2 that my grandmother really is. Now I have come to appreciate this wonderful woman and have been blessed by her example and friendship.
Laura A. Austin, Utah, USA

Two enthusiastic young women of the Modbury Ward, Adelaide Australia Modbury Stake, entered the Junior Miss South Australia Quest and achieved great results. The Quest is an annual affair held to raise money for research for the Epilepsy Association of South Australia.
Debbie Johnson, 14, and Sandra Moore, 15, put in many long hours in raising funds. Their families and friends were supportive and helpful.
Debbie placed third in her age-group and Sandra took first place.

When I was five years old, my mother took me to Grandmother’s house to stay overnight. My grandmother lived on a farm, and it was always very exciting for me to play outside. But this time Grandmother warned me, “Be careful of that red hen with baby chickens. Don’t get too close or she might think you want to hurt her chicks.”
“I won’t, Grandma,” I promised. “I’ll be very careful.”
But when I saw the mother hen and yellow chicks, I forgot my promise. They looked so soft and fuzzy that I bent down and reached over to touch one of them. The tiny chick peeped and quickly ran away from me. Then the mother hen flew at me and pecked me on the hand until I ran into the house crying to my grandmother.
Grandmother held me close until I stopped crying. When I was able to talk, she asked me what had happened.
“I just wanted to see if the little chick was as soft as it looked,” I told her. “I wasn’t going to hurt it—I just wanted to touch it. Then that old mother hen pecked me!”
“But how was the mama hen to know you weren’t going to hurt her little baby chicks?” Grandmother asked. “You are much bigger than she is, and she didn’t want anyone to hurt her little chickens. That is why she pecked you—to make you go away.”
Then she told me to go out and play in the yard again, but to stay away from the mother hen with her babies. She also gave me another warning, “Now don’t go too close to that mother goose either. She has some babies too, and she is bigger than the mother hen. If you try to touch one of her babies, she might really hurt you.”
“I won’t touch them, Grandmother,” I promised.
When I went back outside, I stayed away from the mother hen. But I soon saw the mother goose and her train of baby geese following behind. I couldn’t see them very well, so I went closer to take a better look.
When I was close enough to see, the mother goose spread her big wings, stretched out her long neck, opened her beak, and hissed at me. I was so frightened that I ran back into the house and told Grandmother what had happened.
“Parents love their children,” Grandmother said, “and they want to protect them. That is what the mother hen and the mother goose were doing.”
Then my grandmother taught me a valuable lesson. “Not only do your father and mother and family love and want to protect you,” she said, “but our Heavenly Father loves you. He has placed a prophet here on earth to watch over us. This prophet has many assistants, such as the stake presidency, the bishopric, the home teachers, and your teachers in Primary and Sunday School. Many people love you and will protect you, so you never need to be afraid.”
I remember my grandmother’s lesson whenever I hear children sing “I Am a Child of God” or “My Heavenly Father Loves Me.”
This is a lesson all of us should remember, for we are His children and He loves each one of us!

One evening in June 1978, Billy Johnson returned to his home in Cape Coast, Ghana. He and other members of his congregation had been fasting, as they often did, but the fast had done nothing to lift his spirits. He was tired and discouraged because more believers had stopped worshipping with him and returned to their old churches.
Billy longed to feel spiritually and emotionally strong again. A couple of months earlier, a member of his congregation had told him about a revelation she had had. “Very soon the missionaries will come,” she had said. “I have seen white men coming to our church. They embraced us and joined us in worship.” Another woman announced that she had received a similar revelation. Billy himself had dreamed of some white men entering his chapel and saying, “We are your brothers, and we have come to baptize you.” Afterward, he had dreamed of Black people coming from far and wide to join the Church.
Still, Billy could not shake his discouragement.
It was getting late, but he couldn’t sleep. A strong impression overtook him to listen to the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) on the radio—something he hadn’t done in years.
He found the radio, a brown model with four silver knobs near the base. The radio crackled to life as he turned it on. He fiddled with the knobs, and the red pointer glided back and forth across the dial. But he couldn’t find the broadcast.
Then, after an hour of searching, Billy finally made out a newscast from the BBC. The reporter announced that the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had received a revelation. All worthy men in the Church, regardless of race, could now hold the priesthood.
Billy collapsed, bursting into tears of joy. Priesthood authority would finally come to Ghana, bringing all the blessings of the gospel to his people.
Missionaries arrived in Cape Coast later that year, baptizing Billy Johnson and hundreds of other believers. Since that time, the Church has spread rapidly throughout Ghana and neighboring countries in West Africa. The Cape Coast Ghana Temple was announced in October 2023; it will be the third temple in the country.

Brad is ten years old and attends Primary every Sunday. He loves to sing the Primary songs, and he thinks about their messages.
One day, the Primary president told his class that they were planning a special program for the Primary children to give in sacrament meeting. She wanted the boys in Brad’s class to sing a song on the program. The other boys in the class said that they didn’t want to sing. Because his mom was a counselor in the Primary presidency, Brad knew the planning and preparing that were going into this program. He also knew that the Primary president was a special helper of Jesus Christ and that if He had asked Brad to sing, he certainly would say yes. So he raised his hand and said, “I’ll sing the song alone then!”
The Primary president was very pleased.
When he got home, his mom said, “Brad, you’ve never sung alone before—and in front of so many people! Won’t you be scared?”
Brad said that he would be very scared but that he knew that it was important to do what our leaders ask us to do.
The day of the program arrived, and Brad sat on the stand, waiting for his turn on the program. When he knew that he would be next, he became very frightened. Wondering if any sound would come out of his mouth when he started to sing, he said a little prayer. So did his mom, his dad, his sister, his brother, and the Primary president.
When he stood up to sing, the first words were a little shaky. Then, as he thought of the words he was singing, his voice became stronger and stronger:
“Dare to do right! …” (Yes, he thought, I’m doing the right thing.)
“Dare to be true! …” (I will be true to the teachings of Jesus.)
“You have a work that no other can do; …” (The Primary president asked us to sing.)
“Do it so bravely, so kindly, so well, …” (I’m not quite as scared now—and he sang with all his heart.)
“Angels will hasten the story to tell.” (My prayer is being answered, and everyone is listening to the words I’m singing.)
When he sang the second verse, he wasn’t scared anymore at all, and the words came out loud and full of meaning:
“Dare to do right! Dare to be true!
“Other men’s failures can never save you.
“Stand by your conscience, your honor, your faith;
“Stand like a hero and battle till death.
“Dare, dare, dare to do right;
“Dare, dare, dare to be true,
“Dare to be true, dare to be true.”*
Brad finished the song and sat down. He had a good feeling inside. He looked at the Primary president, then at his mom and dad. They all had tears in their eyes. His sister and brother were smiling, and he was sure that Jesus was smiling, too.

For example, drinking, especially at weekend parties, was a big problem for their peers, so some of the LDS students started throwing their own parties and inviting everyone, as long as they followed the house rules.

“Dad announces the rules at our house,” says Priscilla Packard. “No tobacco; no alcohol; you have to be 14 to attend the party; no pairing off in the corners; and absolutely nobody outside in the cars. Then we dance, and talk, play games, and have contests to see who can do the most back flips in a row. One guy from school who had never been to one of our parties before said, ‘Wow, there’s no alcohol here, and I’m still having fun.’” The parties given by the LDS students are popular with everyone because it isn’t just the same old thing.