Gospel Story Finder

One of the exciting opportunities which comes from the general conference for me is to arrive a little early and have the privilege of walking through the aisles of this great Tabernacle, greeting the conference visitors as they are here assembled. You discover that this is truly a world conference.
Even though some speak a different language, there is another way to communicate, for quickly you discover, as you shake a hand, look into the eye of someone from a different land, there is a common bond, there is a brotherhood and a sisterhood which knows no national boundaries.
We have frequently addressed ourselves in this conference to the country in which the headquarters of this church is located. When this occurs, I watch with interest the faces of those who hear this message through an interpreter. I have detected more than just a courteous attention. There is a genuine interest and understanding. And I guess this is right, for as I study history, there appears to be a common theme, which is played over and over.
We love our great country and we love yours—because it is your home. I have been given an exciting assignment to assist in planning the United States of America’s bicentennial celebration. I have never had an assignment which has given me a clearer vision of history and an opportunity to observe the operations of government.
Some months ago I was asked to assist in inviting many of the religious leaders of America to a special meeting for the purpose of increasing the participation of religious congregations in our nation’s bicentennial celebration. About 400 of us assembled in Washington, D.C., and spent two days together discussing ways in which we could make a contribution to this exciting celebration.
While I found myself having a deep respect and admiration for many of the religious leaders in attendance, I also found myself having some grave concerns over a number whom I guess you would describe as the liberal element.
Part of the program covering this two-day period was to divide ourselves into small discussion groups of about twenty in number to examine the role the churches would play during this celebration.
As we concluded the first day I discussed the possibility, with a bright young colleague I had invited to attend this assembly with me, of preparing a declaration for the churches of this land to jointly proclaim to our countrymen, a reaffirmation of our need for divine guidance, an expression of gratitude for the Lord’s hand in directing the formation of the government of the United States of America. I don’t know how late this young man stayed up that night but when I met him for breakfast the following morning he had an excellent draft of the proposed declaration.
I was excited with the possibility of presenting it to our small discussion group as we assembled together that morning. However, my enthusiasm rapidly dissipated. We soon discovered it was the consensus of this small group of religious leaders that any declaration referring to the Lord our God would not be acceptable. They reasoned such a declaration would be offensive to the atheist. After all, they stated, the atheist has a right to his belief, also. Of course, I completely agree that all men must have their right of free agency but I argued vigorously against locking up our own firm convictions just because they could not be accepted by everyone. The more we argued, the more the opposition united against us. We were not able to get ours or any other declaration out of committee.
I was so shocked with the outcome and obvious futility of our efforts that I had to seek out the religious leader who opposed our declaration. In talking to him I found myself suffering from even a greater shock. Here was a man with divinity degrees listed in a long string of letters behind his name, a leader of a Christian congregation, giving these kinds of answers to my questions:
Question: “Do you not believe that God inspired the early leaders of this country in the formation of this great nation?”
Answer: “I find no evidence in my studies of God’s hand directing the affairs of mankind in any age.”
Question: “With such a philosophy, how do you stand in front of your congregation each week and teach Christian doctrine?”
Answer: “Oh, it is not difficult. I gather together a representative group of the congregation and whatever is the consensus of this group, this is what I preach.”
Once again, I repeat that while in Washington, D.C., attending this gathering I met many devout and wonderful church leaders, but I must say as I returned home from this trip I had a growing concern that from the pulpits of many of our churches in this land as well as in the world in general there is an increasing tendency to teach the doctrines of man rather than that which God has directed.
As the meeting concluded I had great disappointment that a declaration of gratitude to our Eternal Father had not been pronounced or produced by this great body of religious leaders. However, I came away with the firm resolve that I would at least let my voice be heard on two issues during this bicentennial year.
First, I will develop within me the courage to stand up and defend that which I believe to be right. I will declare my personal witness that the heavens are not closed. The Lord continues to guide and direct all of his children on earth if they will but heed his voice. I will teach my firm conviction that the foundation of any righteous government is the law that has been received from the Lord to guide and direct man’s efforts. Righteous government receives direction from the Lord. The scripture President Tanner quoted bears this out, in our country, in the establishment of this government. “And for this purpose have I established the Constitution of this land, by the hands of wise men whom I raised up unto this very purpose, and redeemed the land by the shedding of blood.” (D&C 101:80.)
I have resolved to do all that is within my power to keep alive the same faith which existed in the hearts and souls of our early founding fathers.
It was George Washington who declared, “The people know it is impossible to rightly govern without God and the Bible.”
Again from Andrew Jackson the declaration: “The Bible is the rock on which this Republic rests.”
I reaffirm before you here today of my faith that the Lord God continues to govern the affairs of his children. His law must be the foundation on which all law is based. We must be willing to support, defend, and live in harmony with his divine law.
Now second, I want to publicly profess my opposition to those who are so caught up in their own learning they believe with their enlightened minds they can change the laws of God. A consensus of mankind is not and never will be empowered to change these divine laws.
Let me cite just one example of how these seemingly enlightened minds are trying to destroy the sacred institution of marriage with their erroneous doctrines and teachings. A quotation from a recent publication, which is just one of many I have recently received from concerned citizens, is as follows:
“On the basis of this and other such evidence, some observers suggest that the institution of marriage which had necessarily been changed over the centuries to accommodate the needs of a changing society now faces a future in which it may gradually become obsolete. In their judgment, marriage will ultimately manifest itself, not as a religious sacrament or a legal certification but simply as a sociological fact.” (William H. Masters and Virginia E. Johnson, The Pleasure Bond, Toronto and Boston, Little, Brown and Co., p. 179.) They are calling for a new Christian approach to marriage. They state that dogmatism is being forced to yield to humanism no matter how slowly or how grudgingly. They call attention to studies they claim are on the verge of revealing with assurance that having extramarital relations may serve as a vehicle to faithfulness to God.
I find that such teachings are absolutely contrary to the instructions of the Lord to mankind. As I examine the physical order in the Lord’s divine plan, I find no evidence that he has ever found it necessary to make a correction. The earth continues to rotate in the same direction. The angle of its axis is unchanged. The circulation of moisture continues from sea to cloud to earth to river to sea with its same beneficial effect without alteration.
I find the same consistency in the divine law he has established for mankind. In the very beginning he declared:
“And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.
“And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, …
“And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.
“And Adam said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.
“Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” (Gen. 2:18, 21–24.)
The union between husband and wife is sacred to the Lord, something not to be trifled with. The marriage covenant was essential to the Lord God to accomplish his mission and purposes for which he created the heavens and the earth.
In all periods of time, he has declared his divine law is to safeguard and protect this holy union between husband and wife. When Moses found need for laws to govern the children of Israel, one of the pronouncements by the Lord to him was, “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” (Ex. 20:14.)
In another age when the only Begotten Son was on the earth, he reaffirmed with added emphasis this eternal law: “Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery:
“But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” (Matt. 5:27–28.)
The Lord in his dealings on the American continent, as contained in the Book of Mormon, declares again the same consistent teaching, “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” (Mosiah 13:22.)
He has not left us without that same instruction in our modern scriptures. For again in this day he has declared, “Thou shalt not commit adultery; and he that committeth adultery, and repenteth not, shall be cast out.” (D&C 42:24.)
There has not been and never will be contradiction in the divine laws of God. Scripture after scripture in all ages of time declare his divine message that does not change and cannot be changed by man.
It is comforting to me that the early founders of this country had the same conviction of the powers of the Almighty. Thomas Paine said, “What is it we want to know? Does not the creation, the universe we behold, preach to us the existence of an Almighty power, that governs and regulates the whole? And is not the evidence that this creation holds out to our senses infinitely stronger than anything we can read in a book that any imposter might make or call the word of God? As for morality, the knowledge of it exists in every man’s conscience.” (In God We Trust, ed. Norman Cousins, New York, Harper and Brothers, 1958, p. 1.)
And so today, I sound the same words of warning as Paul the Apostle of old: “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears;
“And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.” (2 Tim. 4:3–4.)
I leave you my witness that there is a consistency in the laws of God that will not change. When we conform our lives to his laws we will find a rewarding joy, a fulfillment, and a peace as we live here on earth. When we would pervert or change his laws or disregard them, we must stand the judgments of God, and as surely as that occurs, misery, sorrow, and heartache will be the result.
Let us catch the spirit of the Psalmist who wrote, “The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.” (Ps. 24:1.)
May God grant that we may have the courage to stand up and be counted for that which we know to be right, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Change your attitude. By looking at a problem in a different way, it may be possible to reduce discouragement. I have been impressed with the pioneer story told about Zina Young. After experiencing the death of parents, crop failure, and sickness, she was encouraged with a spiritual experience that changed her attitude. While attempting to seek divine help, she heard her mother’s voice: “Zina, any sailor can steer on a smooth sea, when rocks appear, sail around them.” A prayer came quickly: “O Father in heaven, help me to be a good sailor, that my heart shall not break on the rocks of grief” (“Mother,” The Young Woman’s Journal, Jan. 1911, 45). It is often difficult to change circumstances, but a positive attitude can help lift discouragement.

Third, from President Gordon B. Hinckley: President Hinckley is a much-traveled prophet and President. His presence, his example, his testimony have been shared throughout the world. About five years ago he returned from a visit to the southeast area of the United States, where he spoke to tens of thousands. The morning after his return home, President Hinckley said he felt a bit weary. In the next breath, he commented, “I’ve learned of the terrible suffering endured by the people of Central America because of the rampaging floods which engulfed homes, fields, and many persons. I feel a need to visit the stricken area, and so I, along with Elder L. Tom Perry and Bishop H. David Burton, will leave by plane in two days in order to do so.” We reviewed with the President information concerning the supplies already sent and received at distribution points, plus those which were en route by air and by ship.

President Hinckley returned from his three-day trip rejoicing in a welfare program which works. He met with the members. He met with the missionaries. He complimented throngs who were at work cleaning up the debris which once was homes.

President Hinckley gave them encouragement and assurances of additional assistance, but more than this, he gave to them himself. We express thanks to our Heavenly Father for such a prophet.

Mary (names have been changed) expected her marriage to be happy and successful. She left her old life behind to immerse herself in her life with her husband. But after time, he made life choices that destroyed their union. She felt panicky, unprepared, and completely lost as she struggled to create another life for herself and her four children. She knew she needed to let God prevail in her life and allow Him to heal her, but it wasn’t easy.
Mary’s ministering brother and sister, the Watsons, lovingly reached out to her to offer assistance and support. At first, Mary stubbornly insisted she didn’t need help. But the Watsons and other members of her ward continued to offer their love and friendship in simple, natural ways: sitting with Mary’s family at gatherings, helping with yard work, and finding simple but personal ways to let Mary know they were thinking about her and serious about helping. She particularly appreciated the many priesthood blessings Brother Watson provided for Mary and her children, bringing peace to their hearts.
Mary knew the Watsons had been assigned to her, but she never felt like the service and friendship were out of obligation. She felt their sincerity and love because they treated her like a beloved sister. They became her family.

It happens almost every Sunday evening. After church and after the dinner dishes are washed, nine-year-old Xinia (pronounced ZEEN-ya) gets out a pencil and several sheets of lined paper and starts writing her letters.
She sits at the kitchen table, absorbed with her writing. Sometimes she’ll look up to ask someone how to spell a word or to say something she remembers about the person she is writing to. But during most of her letter-writing time, she seems to be in her own world—or in the world of the person who is lucky enough to get her letter.
Who is she writing to? “The missionaries,” she answers with a smile. The letter she is working on now is for Elder Ed McCoy, a close friend of the family, who is serving a mission in California. Ed is the only member of his family who belongs to the Church, and Xinia makes sure that he gets at least one letter every week—hers.
“He used to come to our house for Sunday dinner,” she says. After he left for his mission, Sunday evening just didn’t seem complete without visiting with Ed—even if only through a letter. Before long, she started writing letters to the other missionaries, too. Now Xinia writes a letter nearly every Sunday evening to all six missionaries from Belize City. Sometimes she also writes to missionaries who served in Belize and have now returned to their homes. Every Monday morning, her mother mails a stack of Xinia’s letters to places such as Honduras, England, Canada, and the United States.

Photograph of Concepción, Chile, from Getty Images
When I read in the Book of Mormon about how Nephi always supported his visionary father, I concluded that most youth in the Church were probably like Nephi. But when my family decided that we needed to move to the desert, I felt more like Laman and Lemuel. I didn’t want to leave my home.
Like Nephi and his brothers, I was “born of goodly parents” (1 Nephi 1:1). Both joined the Church when they were teenagers, and my mother waited for my father while he served a mission. They were active, hardworking members of the Church.
When I was in high school, the economy slowed down in our region of Concepción, Chile. Jobs dried up, and my father began having trouble finding work. Finally, he began looking for a job out of town.
His job search took him north to the city of Calama, in Chile’s mining region. He is a construction engineer, and he found a good job there. But he was alone and far away. We saw him only when he could afford the 32-hour bus ride home.
After a few years of seeing my father only two or three times a year, my mother felt that it was time to make a change. My parents concluded that the rest of our family needed to move north.
My younger brother had no problem moving. And my older sister, who was in college, set a good example for me.
“I’ll sacrifice my studies,” she said. “We need to be with our father.”
Everyone supported the decision to move except for me. I wanted to be with my father too, but I resisted making changes and personal sacrifices. I had my friends, I knew my surroundings, I enjoyed my lifestyle, and I wanted to go to college in Concepción. I did everything I could do to convince my mother that we shouldn’t go.
Finally, she said, “Son, your father is alone. He wants us with him. I wish you understood, but you’re too focused on yourself.” Then she reassured me, “We will have opportunities there.”
In my heart, I knew she was right—even though my head wasn’t convinced. I didn’t have a strong testimony at the time, but I decided to pray about whether I should go with my family. A clear answer came to me: “You need to leave this place.” I was sad, but I told my parents I would go.
Concepción is a green place with lots of trees. It receives 50 inches (127 cm) of rain per year. Antofagasta, the city near Calama we were moving to, receives only 0.1 inch (0.25 cm) per year.
The most shocking thing for me about the move was the actual trip. As we made our way north by bus, watching the transition from green to brown was agonizing. I wondered, “Where are the trees? Where are the cows in the countryside?” All I saw was dirt, rocks, and hills.
Obviously, northern Chile is a desert, so what else could I expect? I was reminded of how Laman and Lemuel felt when Lehi’s family left the land of their inheritance and headed into the wilderness.
I had a lot of fears when we arrived in Antofagasta. What would happen if I didn’t make any friends? What would happen if I couldn’t get used to the area? What would happen if my hopes for the future didn’t come true?
In the end, I shouldn’t have worried. My mother was right about the opportunities awaiting us—especially the spiritual opportunities.
Before our move, the gospel wasn’t a priority for me. The Lord was in the background. But in Antofagasta, people came into my life who helped me see the beauty of the gospel. I received help from special priesthood leaders. I made friends who remain a treasure to me. My spiritual life changed completely.
Sergio visits with friends at institute.
I’m grateful I listened to my mother. I’m grateful the Lord answered my prayer. I’m grateful I had the courage to move north with my family.
Here in the desert is where I made the changes that helped me become who I am today. Here is where I committed to embrace the gospel, serve a mission, marry in the temple, and dedicate my life to the Lord. Here is where I determined that I no longer wanted to be like Laman and Lemuel.
For my family and me, the wilderness turned out to be our promised land.

“Wow, what an army!” Jamie’s eyes were big as he excitedly knelt next to the small trenches and plastic men Brady was playing with.
“Yeah,” Brady said, grinning proudly. “I’ve been digging these trenches for an hour, wondering where you were.”
“You should’ve called. I was helping Mom sort some books for her bookstore. She got an order in yesterday.”
“You always have your nose in a book, you bookworm!” Brady knew that Jamie didn’t mind his teasing. Jamie was the best reader in the third grade and proud of it.
Jamie started plowing in the warm dirt with his hands, and soon he was busy building trenches too. Books were forgotten as the boys worked in silence for several minutes. The only sound was Mr. Morris’s lawn mower next door and Brady’s loud sneeze when he stirred up too much dust.
“What’s your general’s name?” Jamie asked, pushing a lock of hair back with a grimy hand. “I think that I’ll call mine General Lee.”
“Mine’s General Moroni,” Brady said without looking up. He moved a plastic man in uniform into position at the front of the battle line.
“Moroni? What kind of name is that? Lee was a famous general. I’ve read a lot of history books, and I know a bunch of real cool names. There’s Alexander the Great and MacArthur and—”
“I like Moroni.” Brady looked up then. His green eyes quickly skimmed Jamie and his trench progress, then moved back to his own work. “Moroni was the best.”
“You mean there was really a general named Moroni? I’ve never heard of him.”
“Yeah, there was. He once fought the Lamanites, or Indians, but only when he had to. He liked to live in peace.”
“He fought against Indians? Was he a cowboy?” Jamie had read a lot of cowboy stories too.
“No, he was a Nephite.” Brady smiled and proudly held up the plastic man. “He was strong and brave, and he made his own flag and everything.”
“Who told you about him?” Jamie was curious now. He didn’t know anything about Nephites or a general named Moroni.
“My Primary teacher. Dad and Mom told me a lot more about him too.” Brady had asked Jamie to come to Primary when his friend first moved in several months ago, but Jamie had said no. He liked to read on Sunday.
“They tell you stories like that in Primary? I thought it was just prayers and Bible stuff.”
“Oh, sure, we have those things. But we also have the Book of Mormon, and it has a lot of neat stories in it.” Brady could see that Jamie was interested. He had put down his men, and his hands were still. “Do you want to come to Primary with me next Sunday?”
“Nope.” Jamie bent his head and started digging extra fast. He wasn’t going to let Brady trick him into going to church. Nobody mentioned Moroni again while they played.
On Saturday Brady and Jamie went exploring at the old ballpark. They kicked a soccer ball around for a while, played “hut” in the overgrown bushes, and climbed up on the old rock wall that bordered the east corner of the park.
“Hey, look!” Brady hollered. He spread his arms wide and lowered his voice dramatically: “Behold, I am Samuel the Lamanite. …”
Jamie asked, “Who are you talking about now?”
“Samuel the Lamanite. He once preached from a high wall that surrounded the city because the Nephites had chased him out of the city.”
“Why did they chase him away? I thought that Moroni was a Nephite and that Nephites were the good guys.” Jamie scratched his head and lay back on his elbows. He squinted his eyes half-shut and watched Brady gesturing from the wall.
“Yeah, Moroni was a Nephite when the Nephites were righteous. But Samuel was preaching to a bunch of Nephites who were wicked. He told them to repent and quit doing wrong. So they chased him from their city. That’s when he climbed up on the wall and preached from there. The Nephites shot arrows and stuff at him, but they couldn’t hit him. Neat, huh?”
Jamie didn’t answer for a minute. He palmed the soccer ball and passed it from one hand to another. “Another Primary story, right?”
“Yeah. I think that Samuel was great, and he didn’t give up easily.”
Brady didn’t ask Jamie again to go to Primary with him. They played soccer until the sun got too hot, then rode their bikes back to Brady’s for lemonade. Mom even let them make a tepee in the backyard.
Three weeks later was Jamie’s birthday. He got a new fishing pole from his dad, a mitt from his older brother, and a book about trains from his mom. Brady gave him some building blocks that snapped together just like the huge set that Brady had received last Christmas. Brady knew that Jamie would like them. The next day they played for hours with the blocks, making trucks and buildings and even a huge tower.
When Jamie had made his tower secure, he ran to his closet for a plastic man. He put him on top of the tower and grinned mysteriously at Brady. “Do you know who that is?”
“Who?” asked Brady. He wasn’t paying much attention to Jamie, because he was busy linking his ship together with some yellow blocks.
“King Benjamin.” Jamie paused to give it emphasis. “I built a tower for King Benjamin.”
Brady looked at the tower. It was sturdy, tall, and magnificent. “Wow!” Brady whistled through his teeth. “Nice job!” Then a puzzled expression replaced Brady’s smile. “But how did you know about King Benjamin?”
Jamie smiled a smile that covered his whole face, the kind he wore when he hit a home run. “Mom got me a copy of your Book of Mormon. We’ve been reading it together. I really like the story of King Benjamin.”
Brady left his ship and went over to study the tower. “Wow! A tower for King Benjamin.”
“You know,” Jamie said, “I like Moroni too. The missionaries told us about him. I can see why you used him to lead your army. I can’t wait till we get to that part in our reading. He was the best.”
Brady agreed. He didn’t have to ask Jamie if he wanted to come to Primary on Sunday. He knew that he would.

“Danna,” Mamá called. “Ready for school? It’s scripture time!”
“Coming!” Danna slid her math book into her brightly colored school bag and slung it over her shoulder.
Danna and her family memorized a new scripture verse every week. Each day before they left for school, they practiced saying it together. Mamá said that learning a new scripture is like making a new friend. Once it’s in your heart, it’s there whenever you need it.
Danna and her younger sisters stood by the door and repeated this week’s verse. It was from the Doctrine and Covenants.
“‘Pray always, that you may come off conqueror,’” they said together.
“What does ‘come off conqueror’ mean?” Danna’s sister Tatianna asked.
“It means that you can do hard things!” Danna said.
Mamá nodded. “When we pray, Heavenly Father will help us.”
Danna repeated the scripture over and over in her mind as she hurried off to school.
Later that day, Danna’s teacher stood at the front of the classroom next to the blue and white Guatemalan flag. “Time for your math test,” Señora Morales said. She started passing out a stack of papers.
Danna liked math. And she was good at it! She had studied hard for the test, and she knew she could do well on it.
Danna grabbed her pencil and started working. She was feeling good about her answers. Then she got to the last set of problems. They were really hard. She couldn’t remember how to do them!
Danna felt a wave of panic. How could she finish her math test? She gripped her pencil and read the next problem again.
Then a thought popped into her mind. “Pray always, that you may come off conqueror. …”
Danna took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and said a quiet prayer in her heart. Heavenly Father, please help me remember what I’ve learned. Please help me to do a good job on this test.
Danna looked back at her paper. She looked at the problems she had already solved. Then she looked at the hard ones again. She started remembering how to do them! Her nervousness melted away. She took another deep breath and went to work.
After school, Danna was excited to tell her family about what happened.
“At first I couldn’t remember how to solve some of the problems,” Danna said. “But then I thought about the scripture we’re memorizing. I said a prayer, and Heavenly Father helped me.”
“Way to go!” Mamá said.
“You came off conqueror!” Tatianna said.
Danna laughed. “I did! No matter what score I get, I know I did my best.” She gave Mom and Tatianna a big hug. She couldn’t wait to see what scripture friend they would make next week!
This story happened in Guatemala. Go to page 10 to learn about that country!

Over four years ago, Esther Ofosu of Aburi, Ghana, decided to attend meetings at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Accra, Ghana. After attending church on Sunday, Esther invited the missionaries to her home to meet her family and to teach them the gospel.
Elder Collins and Elder Morgan began to teach them about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The family began to come to church. Over time, they received testimonies. Even though it was not necessarily always easy to attend church or to do what their friends told them to do, they continued to come because they knew it was true. They felt something different when they came.
The elders invited the Ofosus to do something that would require great faith and might seem impossible at first. Elders Sanders and Morgan told them they must marry to follow the law of chastity in order to receive the blessing of baptism and confirmation. Marriage is no easy task in Ghana. The bride price involves serious money and at the time, the Ofosus had barely enough to provide for themselves and their two young boys. The missionaries told them to save one cedi in a jar every week, planting a seed of faith for the Ofosus to nourish and grow.
After four years of faithful church attendance and saving one cedi each week, the Ofosu family had finally saved up enough to have their traditional marriage. New elders were now serving in the area and met the Ofosu family. “You guys have picked up where they left off,” Samuel Ofosu exclaimed to Elder Olsen and Elder Linger.
As the wedding day approached, every cedi and every pesewa had been spent for the ceremony. The Ofosu family had spent all their money to have the Ghanaian traditional marriage.
On the morning of the marriage, Samuel Ofosu did not have a car or money to get to the place the wedding was being held. His phone was broken, it was 3 a.m. and he had no idea what to do to get to his own marriage ceremony. With a prayer in his heart, he found someone and asked them if he could use their phone to make a phone call. Samuel had a thought to call a random friend. Thankfully, his friend picked the phone and Samuel told him about the situation. His friend told him not to worry, just wait for a short time. In less than 20 minutes there was a car there to take Brother Ofosu to the wedding free of charge, a pure miracle by God’s hand.
“We truly thank you for your prayers,” Brother and Sister Ofosu told Elder Olsen and Elder Linger. “It is only by your prayers that everything worked out fine. Everyone was safe. The marriage was wonderful. We don’t owe anyone anything, but our pockets are empty.”
Elder Olsen shared that the “Ofosus are the some of the humblest, Christlike people I have ever met. They submit to God like a child does to his father. And because of this, they have pure joy in their lives. They are seriously always happy and so fun to be around, and their positive joyful energy radiates to all around them.”
On the Sunday following their baptism, Brother and Sister Ofosu shared, “Sometimes it would make me sad and discouraged when I would wake up Sunday morning and know that I wasn’t a member of the Church. But we are now free! We are now members of the Church!”
Elder Olsen shared, “This family is truly wonderful and brings so much joy into my heart. I feel so blessed to serve a mission and that I get to be a small part of their journey toward eternal salvation.”
On March 27, 2022, the Ofosus were confirmed members of the Church. One month after the Ofosus were baptized, Brother Ofosu was given the priesthood and had the opportunity to baptize their oldest son, Kofie.

Grandma got steadily worse after that. Mom kept trying to get her to use the bedpan, but grandma insisted on her dignity. All those months that grandma lived with us, I would go into her room and talk to her after school. Her mind seemed to drift backward at times. She could remember her childhood better than what had happened only moments before. I tried not to notice her sagging skin hanging off her protruding bones. She weighed only 80 pounds.
Mom told me not to bother grandma anymore. She told me that grandma didn’t understand what I was saying anymore. Sometimes I’d rub grandma’s feet or stroke her forehead or we’d just be together.
My father was always too busy with work and my mom was pregnant with twins and half crazy with worry over my rebellious older brother and his motorcycle and girl friend. But grandma, she was always there.
It was nearly the end of the school year when I ran in the house one day and charged down the stairs to grandma’s room. A boy in my science class and I had been working on a science fair project for two months together. We’d taken first place, and he had asked me to the graduation dance. I wanted to tell grandma as I had everything else all year.
When I opened the door, flushed from running, the bedroom was empty. Grandma was gone.
“Where is she?” I shouted running up the stairs to the kitchen. “Where’s grandma?”
The house seemed strangely quiet. Most of my family were in the kitchen looking solemn.
“Mom had to take her to the hospital this morning,” my dad said, squeezing my arm. “She died this afternoon.”
“No!” I shouted, “She wasn’t ready yet!”
“It was her time, honey. It’s better this way. She won’t be suffering anymore. She’s happy now,” dad answered.
“She was happy before, too,” I said pulling away.
I ran out of the house and up the street to the field at the end. The tears stung as they ran down my hot cheeks. I climbed the tree. There, in the top branches, the wind felt cool on my burning face. With my eyes closed, I bit down on my bottom lip. I wanted it to hurt. The soft summer wind rustled the lacy leaves, and the slow tumbling water from the irrigation ditch lapped against the crooked, moss-covered roots of the willow tree. Time passed.
Later, I opened my eyes and looked up. I could see the gray silhouette of a bird slicing through the crimson sky overhead. Somehow I didn’t feel angry any more. I laid my cheek against the rough bark of the tree and put my arm around the limb. I felt comfortable and secure. The sun, round and orange, balanced on the mountain horizon. Cool, dark shadows rolled across the weed grass in the field.
Slowly, deliberately, I climbed limb by limb back down the tree to the ground. I took a deep breath of the summer-scented air. As I walked away from the tree, I felt as if an irreplaceable part of myself had stayed behind—there in that tree in the topmost branches. Yet I felt a new part of myself fill the gap and the longing as I realized that maybe, no matter how old we are, we’re never good and ready. Even knowing the glories of the other side doesn’t make it easier to let go of that which we know and love.
As I reached the end of the field near the street to my home, I turned around. The tree looked dark and hazy in the early evening light.

A few years after my wife, Gisèle, and I returned from presiding over the Fiji Suva Mission, Gisèle was diagnosed with stomach cancer. The ordeal would eventually include three delicate surgical operations and complications that resulted in the complete removal of her stomach. It was at the height of watching my wife’s suffering that I came to better understand the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
I remember feeling completely overwhelmed by what Gisèle was experiencing. What had she done to deserve such an affliction? Hadn’t she served the Lord faithfully? Hadn’t she lived the Word of Wisdom? Why couldn’t He have prevented this illness? Why?
One particular night I let my heart and my feelings burst in prayer as I recounted to the Lord all of my frustrations. “I can no longer stand to watch my dear wife endure such pain!” I told Him. Then I decided to turn to the scriptures. I found these comforting verses about Jesus Christ in Alma 7:11–12:
“And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.
“And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.”
Until that moment I had not considered all that the Savior’s wondrous Atonement entailed. I had not truly realized that Jesus Christ would take upon Him Gisèle’s pain—or mine. I shifted my hurt and fear upon Him who takes “the pains and the sicknesses of his people.” With this new understanding, I felt a heavy burden lifted!
Today, Gisèle is doing very well, as though she never had cancer. At her regular checkups, her doctor tells her that she is “a miracle.” I am so grateful for her physical healing, but I am also grateful for the healing that I experienced, a healing of the heart. The comfort that is available only through the Savior gave me a peaceful assurance that everything would be all right.
Now whenever I face tribulation, my thoughts always turn to that powerful lesson and to what the Lord told the Prophet Joseph Smith: “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?” (D&C 122:8). Remembering Jesus Christ’s sacrifice invariably comforts me.

Alma’s teachings were very instrumental in my intention to serve a mission. Although my grandmother ensured that I was baptized when I was eight years old, I seldom attended church in my youth. When missionaries crossed my path when I was a young adult and I began thinking about the Church, I started to study the scriptures. Alma’s discussion about being compelled to be humble versus choosing to be humble caught my attention (see Alma 32:13–15). I felt inadequate because of my shortcomings, but I gave it some serious thought—deciding to serve a mission would require significant change. I already had a career and my own business, and I wanted to marry my girlfriend (who, by the way, is now my wife). Could I give all of that up to serve the Lord?
I went to a private place and took time—real time—to pray and commune with my Heavenly Father. In humbling myself, I came to recognize that Heavenly Father did want me to serve. I decided to follow His word, and in doing so, I found the truth of Alma’s promise: “He that truly humbleth himself, and repenteth of his sins, and endureth to the end, the same shall be blessed—yea, much more blessed than they who are compelled to be humble” (Alma 32:15).
Even though I was well over age 26, I went to my bishop, who helped prepare me. I submitted my mission papers and waited for months. Finally, I received a call telling me I was not eligible to serve a full-time mission but that I could serve in public communications, the field I was already working in. It was an exciting time. I was trained and then appeared in media discussions soon after the Church in Mexico was officially recognized by the Mexican government. I helped stakes train their public affairs specialists and established relationships with government officials. This opportunity to serve blessed me in more ways than I can describe and in ways I never could have anticipated. It affected many aspects of my life for good.

For example, one of my responsibilities is to act as navigator, guiding the helicopter pilot to the incident scene. Emergency helicopters can and do fly most anywhere, which makes them invaluable for reaching accident scenes quickly but it also makes them vulnerable. When we are flying at more than 140 miles (225 km) per hour, power cables and telephone wires can be practically invisible. And they can slice through a helicopter in an instant.
On one trip we were coming in to land in a most awkward place. Suddenly the Spirit told me, “Put the clipboard down!” Again almost immediately, I felt, “Put it down!” So I leaned forward to place my clipboard on the case by my knees. As I did so, my point of view altered, and I saw the power cable right below us. “Wires! Wires! Wires below!” was all I could say. And even though we actually touched the cable and caused it to bow, the pilot responded instantly, and we lifted away and were saved. That was the closest to disaster I have come. Without the Spirit’s prompting, that emergency call would have had a very different ending.

Christ gives peace. I remember being in Europe a number of years ago at the time tanks were rolling down the streets of a great city, and students were being slaughtered with machine-gun fire. I stood that December day in the railroad station in Berne, Switzerland. At eleven o’clock in the morning, every church bell in Switzerland began to ring, and at the conclusion of that ringing, every vehicle stopped—every car on the highway, every bus, every railroad train. The great, cavernous railway station became deathly still. I looked out the front door across the plaza. Men working on the hotel opposite stood on the scaffolding with bared heads. Every bicycle stopped. Every man and woman and child dismounted and stood with bared, bowed heads. Then, after three minutes of prayerful silence, trucks, great convoys of them, began to roll from Geneva and Berne and Basel and Zurich toward the suffering nation to the east, laden with supplies—food, clothing, and medicine. The gates of Switzerland were thrown open to refugees.

As I stood there that December morning, I marveled at the miraculous contrast of the oppressive power shooting down students in one nation and the spirit of a Christian people in another who bowed their heads in prayer and reverence, then went to work to provide succor and salvation.

One of Elder Kimball’s most remarkable mission experiences occurred in Alabama.
"Let me call your attention to an incident. It happened away down in Alabama. That was at a time in the ’90’s when I presided over the southern states mission. The elders had been asked to assemble themselves together. They were laboring in that low, marshy, malarial district that was scarcely safe for a human being to live in, … suffering with malaria, rather low-spirited, because they had been travelling without purse or scrip through that section of the country. We assembled to hold a conference. After the conference was over, two days, we were to hold a priesthood meeting. We had no place to meet in those days except in the woods, but I had instructed the elders to clean some place off in the woods, a circle, where we could meet together and hold our priesthood meeting. On that occasion there was a young man whose mother was a remarkable woman, a Latter-day Saint. The father had left the Church years and years ago. He opposed the boy, he stood out against him, … but the mother’s faith and the faith of the young man who was in that conference did not fail. I don’t know what the trouble was, but one of his legs was as large as my body, and it looked like a great piece of raw meat. It looked like it would burst. The people there did the best they could for him. He had no physician. We did not know what a physician was in the South, in my day. There may have been physicians there, but I never happened to meet any. So on this occasion I said to this elder: ‘Well, you will have to stay here with the people. You can’t go up there.’ ‘Why,’ he said, ‘Brother Kimball, I have been dreaming about this, and I have been talking about it. It would ruin my whole mission unless I can be at that priesthood meeting.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘if you feel that way, two of the elders will carry you up there, one mile.’ We went there in order to get away, to a place where we would be secluded, and when we got into the woods in that little circle and sat down, as best we could, I looked those elders over. I was not very well myself, but I said: ‘Brethren, what are you preaching?’
“‘We are preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ.’
“‘Are you telling these people that you have the power and authority, through faith, to heal the sick?’
“They said, ‘Yes.’
“‘Well then, why don’t you believe it?’
“This young man spoke up and he said: ‘I believe it.’ He sat down on a stump and the elders gathered around him. He was anointed and I administered to him, and he was healed right in their presence. It was quite a shock; and every other elder that was sick was administered to, and they were all healed. We went out of that priesthood meeting and the elders received their appointments, and there was a joy and happiness that cannot be described. The people gathered around, and the elders before their departure, got down and they cried. Those elders, many of them, had never seen one another until they assembled in that conference, and ‘Such love,’ those people said, ‘we have never known’" (in Conference Report, Oct. 1927, pp. 52–53).

Many years ago, on a Halloween night, it was my privilege to be of assistance to one who had temporarily lost his way and needed a helping hand to return. I was driving home from the office rather late. I had been stalling on Halloween, letting my wife handle the trick-or-treat visitors. As I passed St. Mark’s Hospital in Salt Lake City, I remembered that a dear friend, Max, lay ill in that very hospital. As he and I had become acquainted years before, we discovered that we had grown up in the same ward, although at different times. By the time I was born, Max and his parents had moved from the ward.
That Halloween night, I drove into the parking lot and entered the hospital. As I stopped at the desk to inquire as to his room number, I was informed that when Max had registered at the hospital, he had listed as his religious preference not LDS but rather another church.
I entered Max’s room and greeted him. I told him how proud I was to be his friend and how much I cared about him. I talked about his career in banking and as an orchestra leader on the side. I discovered that he had been offended by a comment or two from others and so had decided to attend another church. I said to him, “Max, you hold the Melchizedek Priesthood. I would like to give you a blessing tonight.” He agreed, and the blessing was provided. He then informed me that his wife, Bernice, was also very ill and was, in fact, in an adjoining room. At my invitation, Max joined me in giving a blessing to her. He asked me to help him. I coached him. He anointed his wife. There were tears and embraces all around as I sealed the anointing with Max, his hands on his wife’s head with mine, making that Halloween evening one ever to be remembered.
As I left the hospital that night, I stopped at the desk and told the receptionist that with the permission of Max and his wife the record should be changed to reflect their membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I waited and I watched until it was changed.
My friends Max and Bernice are now both on the other side of the veil, but they spent the last period of their lives active and happy and receiving the blessings which come with testimonies of the gospel and attendance at church.

Some of you may have read in the March issue of the New Era the story of a handicapped girl named Jenni. She was lonely and not very attractive. One day she said to her classmates, “I need a friend. I need someone who will eat lunch with me. Who will be my friend?” One girl stood and said, “I will be your friend,” and then another did likewise. They ate lunch with her. They encouraged her. They helped her. They brought new life into the dark world of this handicapped girl. And in the process they brought new happiness into their own lives. (See Victor W. Harris, “The Miracle of Jenni,” New Era, Mar. 1996, 12–14.)

One day at recess, my best friend, Julie,* told me that she no longer wanted to be my friend. I was very sad and asked her why. She said that she didn’t know why, just that she no longer wanted to be my friend. I felt very bad and walked away crying.
When I got home from school, I told my mom what had happened. She listened to me and hugged me. She reminded me that I had other friends to play with. When my dad came home, I asked him what to do. He told me that when I see her to just think about what Jesus would do.
The next day at school, we ignored each other at first. Later, at recess, she apologized and asked to be my friend again. I remembered how bad I’d felt and didn’t want her to hurt my feelings again. So I told her that I would think about it.
The rest of recess, I thought about what my parents had told me. I decided that Jesus would give her a second chance and so should I. I forgave her and told her that I still wanted to be her friend. I learned that even though it is hard to forgive people sometimes, if you forgive, you are happier and feel closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

When I was growing up, many people were out of work and homeless. The Relief Society president in our small branch was an older woman from Norway. She knew that God wanted her to care for those in need. So she asked her neighbors for old clothes. She washed the clothes and ironed them. Then she put them in cardboard boxes on her back porch. When someone needed clothes, her neighbors would say, “Go to the house down the street. There is a lady there who will give you what you need.”
This sister found out what God wanted her to do, and then she did it! She helped hundreds of Heavenly Father’s children who were in need.

About 8,000 Southeast Asian refugees live in Utah, with about fifty to one hundred new refugees arriving every month. Donald and Irene Jones, of Mesa, Arizona, are a welfare services missionary couple who labor among the Cambodian refugees. Elder Jones relates that “about thirty percent of the people we help with clothing, furniture, food, and job-training are not members of the Church. Helping people often opens the door to teaching the gospel.”

One such conversion story is that of Sakhan Lay, who was a school teacher in Cambodia. When the government fell, her family was separated and she was sent to a prison camp. Twice she faced a firing squad, but her life was spared. Miraculously she escaped, and was able to locate her children who had fled to Thailand. A Latter-day Saint Cambodian family living in Utah sponsored the Lays so that they could come to Salt Lake City. They have since joined the Church, and Sister Lay is now working as a social worker among her people.