Gospel Story Finder

Equally unwelcome was the “shower” that fell on the little town of Coonamble, Australia. People dashed for cover and shops closed hurriedly as millions of beetles fell from the sky. Householders worked at top speed trying to make doors and windows beetle-proof, but it was practically impossible to keep the invaders at bay. It was two days before life in the town even began to return to normal and much longer before the beetles were completely cleared from pantries, cupboards, bedrooms, and attics.

Five years ago, I was thumbing through a copy of this BYU Studies booklet a friend had given me. My friend gave me this issue because the family of a former missionary to Tonga in the 1930’s, named Thomas Whitley, published Elder Whitley’s missionary photos. Among them was this picture.

This is the only photograph that exists of my grandparents Iki Tupou Fulivai and his wife Leva’itai, who appears to be wearing a silk dress that Iki probably bought in China. It was both exciting and haunting to look into my great grandparents’ eyes for the first time. You can imagine the stir I created when I had this photo distributed to my father's family. It was if they had been raised from the dead. We still haven't been able to identify the child, but no matter, these are my great grandparents. If this photo was taken in 1937, Iki would’ve been in his 80s because he died in 1951 at the age of 101. And look at what he’s wearing: a graduation robe and motor board. It’s so fitting that Elder Whitley caught this moment on film because it perfectly captures what I grew up hearing about my great-grandfather and his insatiable thirst for learning. The missionaries came to his home because he wanted his children educated. He saw things and met people in his world travels that must’ve compelled him to yearn for his children to be literate. Keep in mind, this wasn't his undergraduate degree or his MBA. This was his graduation from grammar school! He led by example, sitting with his children and grandchildren, in his 80s, in the same classroom as they all learned math and science.

One of my favorite pioneer stories illustrates this protection principle. It is the story of a pioneer girl named Agnes Caldwell, who was in the Willie Handcart Company in 1856. At the time, she was only 9 years of age. As told in her own words, she related:
Although only tender years of age, I can yet close my eyes and see everything in panoramic precision before me—the ceaseless walking, walking, ever to remain in my memory. Many times I would become so tired and, childlike, would hang on the cart, only to be gently pushed away. Then I would throw myself by the side of the road and cry. Then realizing they were all passing me by, I would jump to my feet and make an extra run to catch up.
She goes on to share,
Just before we crossed the mountains, relief wagons reached us, and it certainly was a relief. The infirm and aged were allowed to ride, all able-bodied continuing to walk. When the wagons started out, a number of us children decided to see how long we could keep up with the wagons, in hopes of being asked to ride. At least that is what my great hope was. One by one they all fell out, until I was the last one remaining, so determined was I that I should get a ride. After what seemed the longest run I ever made before or since, the driver . . . called to me, “Say, sissy, would you like a ride?” I answered in my very best manner, “Yes sir.” At this he reached over, taking my hand, clucking to his horses to make me run, with legs that seemed to me could run no farther. On we went, to what to me seemed miles. . . . Just at what seemed the breaking point, he stopped. Taking a blanket, he wrapped me up and lay me in the bottom of the wagon, warm and comfortable. Here I had time to change my mind, as I surely did, knowing full well by doing this he saved me from freezing when taken into the wagon. [4]
Agnes Caldwell arrived safely in Salt Lake City on Nov. 9, 1856. She later married Chester Southworth and became a mother to 13 children.
Had the driver of that wagon taken Agnes into the wagon without making her run, she would have surely succumbed to the bitter cold. And had Agnes chosen to give up and fall behind, her story may have ended much differently. However, for Agnes this became her defining moment, and though the decision to run did not make perfect sense at the time, she ran anyway with grit, determination, faith, and hope.

I was 24 years old when I first met Julio Martínez. At the time, I had great interest in meeting someone who could explain the purpose of life to me and help me understand why I felt such a void in my soul. Julio, age 87, was just such a person. He enjoyed extraordinary physical and mental health. He loved nature and was always in a wonderfully good humor. We spent many summer afternoons talking, and I came to admire him and his ideas. A philosopher who practiced what he taught, he became my mentor.
One day, two and a half years after we met, Julio told me he had been baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was dismayed. How could a man as wise and experienced as he was make such a decision? I respected him, however, so I respected his choice. We continued to visit frequently, but I would turn the conversation to other matters whenever he began to talk about the Church.
In time I began to notice some changes in Julio. His eyes had a new glow, and he became kinder, less critical, and more humble. I didn’t understand what was prompting the changes, and I was afraid of losing the good friendship we already had. But still I remained unresponsive to his invitations to learn more about his church.
And so I ignored the Lord as He called to me. I believe He calls to each of us, often through other people, but we hear only if we have ears to hear—and only if we open our hearts. The Lord called to me several times, but my heart was closed.
Then on 20 August 1998, at Julio’s urging, I met with some of the Lord’s missionaries, Elders Martínez, Boyle, and Winward. For the first time, I recognized the voice that had been calling to me. The Spirit bore such witness that my heart was softened and I was humbled. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I asked myself over and over, How is it possible for the Savior to love us so deeply? How did He come to do what He did for us, for me?
Nine days later I was baptized. Thanks to Julio, my friend, I now know the love Jesus Christ has for us and the fellowship that is found in His Church. Julio became like a grandfather to me, and I rejoice to know that because of our Lord’s grace I found His eternal truth.

Many years ago, while serving as a bishop, I asked our ward council, “How could we become the most welcoming and friendly ward?” We counselled together on what it would be like to come to our ward for the first time. Who would greet us? Would someone sit with us? What would happen if we weren’t dressed correctly or were clearly struggling with an addiction to smoking? We talked about the Savior’s love and how we could ensure that those visiting our ward felt of that love. As we continued to counsel together, each member of the ward council considered and talked about the contribution they could make to help our ward become more welcoming and friendly. Together, we developed some ideas and as a ward council committed ourselves in the coming weeks to try to:
Personally shake hands with new members and investigators and help them feel welcome and comfortable.
Discuss ways of becoming a most welcoming and friendly ward in each auxiliary and quorum meeting.
Invite young men to be in the parking area before meetings to greet everyone and to provide assistance to anyone that needs help.
Invite young women to be greeters in the foyer and help all entering the building feel the Savior’s love.
Introduce new members and investigators to a member of the bishopric.
Welcome and recognise new members and investigators at classes, auxiliary, and priesthood meetings.
Avoid making any judgement of, or suggestions to, new investigators or returning members who are not dressed in normal church attire.
Make recommendations for callings and assignments to new members that will bless their lives and help them feel needed and learn and grow.
Assign ministering brothers and ministering sisters to care for new members.
Work shoulder-to-shoulder with full-time missionaries so that their investigators are connected and have ward member friends who love them as soon as they start attending church.
As the ward council continued to implement their ideas and to review progress, we quickly became a happier ward. As we learned together how to be welcoming and friendly, we all felt more loved and united. Church became a joyful experience, and people attending the ward for the first time felt like they were home.

I found myself sitting in the backseat of our car, the one we call the Green Machine, wondering how I got myself into this mess. We were helping my older sister move away from home for the first time, and I didn’t want to be there. I dreaded saying good-bye. I didn’t know what to say or do.
Why had I come, I asked myself. Because you’re a fool, I answered. A fool who thought your sister would want someone there besides Mom and Dad. She probably couldn’t care less, or so it seemed to me by the smiles and chatter that came nonstop from the front seat.
I shifted restlessly, hoping we were almost there, and thinking back to the argument we’d had just a couple of weeks ago.
“Will you hurry up with the hair dryer!”
“I’m drying my hair as fast as I can!”
“Well, could you let me use it for a minute? I have to leave.”
“So do I, but I can’t curl my hair unless it’s dry. Besides, I thought I’d have enough time because you said you were going to take a shower.”
“I was, but you used all the hot water.”
Bicker, bicker. Finally, we both got so fed up that we stopped talking to each other. We always seemed to fight like that. Funny though, a couple of hours later we’d be joking, laughing, and borrowing each other’s clothes as though nothing had happened. We were never angry with each other for long.
My thoughts were interrupted as we pulled up to a small, brick house, stepped out of the car, and went inside.
I lugged one of my sister’s suitcases around, while following my parents and dreading the moment when we would say good-bye. I’d have to hug her and then say something like, “I’m going to miss you” or “Have fun in California,” and then she’d hug me back and say, “I will.” Blech!
I walked outside and paced up and down the cracked sidewalk, awaiting the inevitable, as my dilapidated tennis shoes crumbled the dry leaves that had fallen from the tree in the yard.
Footsteps sounded behind me and I turned to see my sister coming toward me, a big smile on her face. I stood where I was, my hands in my pockets, as she set the box she was holding on the ground and came towards me.
We hugged each other, and I said, “I’m going to miss you. Have fun in California.” I let go, and she grinned and said, “I will.”
I turned away and crossed the street to the curb, unwilling to let her see my watery eyes. As I leaned against the car and lifted my tear-stained face to the wind, I softly whispered, “I love you.”

Third, I was introduced to the missionaries and the Church when I was eight. I was invited to see the dedication of the first LDS Church building in Ethiopia on Sunday, November 30, 2003. At the dedication I felt the powerful influence of the Holy Spirit, and the missionaries in attendance radiated joy, happiness, and that same powerful spirit. I remember thinking that I wanted to be just like them. But I had no idea how I could ever reach this goal.

The fourth miracle came soon after. A family in the United States adopted me. My new father picked me up from the orphanage and took me home. We started the process of becoming acquainted, and I began to settle into my new environment.

Numerous challenges surfaced immediately upon my arrival. Everywhere I went people laughed at my English. My limited education caused problems in school. I prayed for help, and then I worked harder and smarter to close the knowledge gap, especially with English. Once again Heavenly Father answered my prayers. Two years later I proudly skipped a grade.

Then my home life fell apart. Prayers to the Lord, high personal goals, and a deep desire to succeed carried me through that extremely tough time. Finally, with a social worker’s help, my father and I agreed to terminate the adoption. This was a time for prayer, patience, faith, and help from Heavenly Father.

Now 15 years old, I went to live with a foster family for about a year. That was when the fifth miracle came. While sleigh riding with two friends, I met an LDS family with two nice daughters. During the ride home, one of the daughters spoke up, saying, “I think the Lord wants us to adopt Ephrem Smith.” Remarkably, the other three members of the family had also received the same inspiration. The father worked with the Department of Social Services, and soon I moved to my new home. From the very beginning my amazing new father gave me agency. For example, he explained that their family goes to church on Sundays. He allowed me to choose to join them or stay home; he said that they still would love me if I chose not to attend church. I chose to attend church, and I have since made many other righteous decisions.

Miracle six came as I received a testimony of the gospel. One Sunday I sat in sacrament meeting singing “I Stand All Amazed” (Hymns, no. 193). Huge tears began running down my cheeks as I received a personal testimony that Jesus is the Christ and that the Church is His Church.

Finally, nine years later, I knew how to become like those missionaries! The missionary age was now 18, but my adoption had not yet been finalized. I waited seven long months until my adoption was completed. Finally, my missionary papers could be submitted. Four days later I received my mission call. In just one week the Lord blessed me with final adoption papers and a mission call. I treasure both papers exceedingly! They are my seventh miracle. Yes, indeed, it took many miracles along the way from that mud hut in Ethiopia to my treasured mission.

“What’s that book?”
Kaylan Miller was curious to see what her friend April Leach was reading, particularly because she was reading by flashlight.
“It’s called the Book of Mormon,” April replied. “It’s part of our scriptures.”
Kaylan already knew April, knew she was a good person and a good friend, knew she came from a good family, knew she and her family were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She and April had been close since they were in first grade at elementary school. Even though April moved away for a couple of years, “we were still friends,” Kaylan says.
Now April was back in Pebble Beach, California, and Kaylan was excited to see her. Their parents had agreed that Kaylan could stay over at April’s house. And April was comfortable enough with her friend that she did what she did every night before going to sleep—she read her scriptures by flashlight.
April, now 15 (so is Kaylan), explains: “When I was a little girl, I didn’t want to get out of bed to turn off the light, so I started reading in bed with a flashlight. I just never got out of the habit.”
Watching her from across the room, Kaylan was curious. “Read some of it to me, okay?”
And April did. She read some of her favorite verses of scripture out loud. The words—about the Savior, about faith, about prayer—left Kaylan feeling she had found a new source of light. She thought a lot about what April had read, about the book subtitled “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.”
A little while later April presented Kaylan with a gift—her very own copy of the Book of Mormon. April had written her testimony next to the title page inside. The reading continued, alone and together. They discussed stories and passages, trading favorite verses back and forth.
The light April now shared with Kaylan was much more than illumination from a flashlight. It was the friendly light of her love for the restored gospel and her love for the Lord Jesus Christ. And for Kaylan, that light continued to grow and grow.
“I felt at home with April and with her family,” she says. “I felt comfortable and natural with them. It was like a second home to me.” The rest of the family includes parents Michael and Jill and two brothers, Michael, 17, and Jason, 10.
“I noticed some special feelings between members of her family,” Kaylan explains. “They’re wonderful and genuine. They always made me feel like I belonged. They had a different atmosphere in their home than I had felt in any other home of any of my other friends. I guess that feeling helped the gospel and its message about families to make sense to me.”
April’s example also said a lot. “She’s different from most of the other kids I’ve known, too,” says Kaylan. “She’s always friendly and happy, but most of all she’s sincere and honest. I really like her. Her whole family’s example gave me hope for the kind of life that I want.”
“Kaylan began asking questions about the special feelings in our home and what caused them,” April explains. “I tried to explain why the family is so important to members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and I suggested she talk to the missionaries.”
In the meantime, Kaylan kept reading the Book of Mormon and kept finding answers to many of her other questions about the Church. Though she already understood many things from her conversations with the Leach family, she listened intently as the missionaries taught her. She became more and more excited and wanted to join the Church. She talked to her parents, and they gave permission for her baptism.
That was more than a year ago. Today Kaylan is a strong member of the Church who is letting her own light shine, in more ways than one. She was chosen as a princess for the Pacific Grove Feast of the Lanterns, a festival with a pageant that reenacts a story about a Chinese princess and her sweetheart, who is a commoner.
The festival and pageant take place at night on a small beach at Pacific Grove. People come from miles around to join in the festivities, and long before the pageant begins the beach is crowded elbow to elbow with people carrying small, lighted paper lanterns. As darkness gathers, the beach is aglow with hundreds of multi-colored lights. Then the pageant begins, and Kaylan steps forward to play her part.
It is an enjoyable evening, and the lights are a big part of the show. When the pageant is over, fireworks burst and blaze in the darkened sky.
Kaylan talks about her friend April’s light and how it kindled her own. “Now I want my friends to know how much the gospel means to my life,” she says. “I want to share it with them, just like April shared it with me.”
It is a night alive with light, light much brighter than the flashlight by which April reads her scriptures. It is a night when there are many lantern bearers, each eager to share light with all who will receive it. It is a perfect night for April and Kaylan to remember the friendly light that they have shared with each other, the light of truth.
They know that it is a light that will grow “brighter and brighter until the perfect day” (D&C 50:24).

To illustrate this further, I share the true account of a family with five sons who moved from Los Angeles, California, USA, to a small community some years ago. The two oldest sons began playing high school sports and associating with friends, leaders, and coaches—many of whom were faithful members of the Church. These relationships helped lead to the baptism of Fernando, the oldest, and his next younger brother.
Fernando later moved away from home, where he continued his education and played college football. He married his high school sweetheart, Bayley, in the temple. As Fernando and Bayley finished their schooling, they eagerly anticipated the birth of their first child—a baby girl. But during the process of their families helping to move Fernando and Bayley back home, Bayley and her sister were driving on the freeway and were in a tragic accident involving many vehicles. Bayley and her unborn daughter lost their lives.
Yet as deep as was Fernando’s pain, as well as that of Bayley’s parents and siblings, so too was the depth of contrasting peace and comfort that distilled upon them almost immediately. The Holy Ghost in His role as Comforter truly sustained Fernando through this incomprehensible affliction. The Spirit communicated an abiding peace that led Fernando to an attitude of forgiveness and love toward everyone involved in the tragic crash.
Bayley’s parents called her brother who was serving as a missionary at the time of the accident. He described in a letter his feelings upon hearing the difficult news of his beloved sister: “It was amazing to hear your voices so calm in the midst of a tempest. I did not know what to say. … All I could think of is my sister may not be there when I come home. … I was comforted by your infallible testimonies of the Savior and His plan. The same sweet spirit that brings me to the verge of tears as I study and teach filled my heart. I was then comforted and reminded of the things that I know.”

I think one of the beautiful pictures that I remember back in the early days of the program was when we looked up and saw a beautiful field, white with cotton bolls, and then saw the Relief Society sisters, the Primary children, the men and women and children in the rows of cotton with their long bags trailing behind them. They were learning to pick cotton. When they went to weigh, they always were disappointed. They thought they had 150 pounds dragging behind them, and it turned out to be only eight or ten. I remember they were happy; they were doing something that was constructive. They were helping others. I remember sometimes in their happiness they would sing songs like “Way Down Upon the Swanee River.”
I have seen them picking fruit, cherries, apples and peaches, and it seems to me there was a new dimension that had been added when they felt they were doing something constructive, something they did not have to do, something they wanted to do for their own people.

I read with great pleasure the excellent article “Attack!” by Kathleen Lubeck in the October New Era. It was very timely and well done. One expression in the last paragraph of the first column reminded me of an incident I would like to relate to you. One day I was telling my former bishop how lucky I had been in some circumstance that I cannot now remember. I will never forget what happened next. He looked me straight in the eye and said very soberly, “No, Sister Knecht, you have been blessed.” Just a few simple words, but they had such an effect upon me that I have never since felt any way but blessed when good things have happened to me or when I have been spared some ill fortune that might have befallen me.
It has made a drastic change in my attitude toward my Father in Heaven It has made me much more aware of the good things that come from him and which cause my heart to swell with gratitude. When I am with other people, a silent prayer goes heavenward. I have told this experience to many people. Whenever I hear anyone say “I am lucky,” I just quietly say, “You are blessed.” The response has been universally the same as mine was. And many of these people have thanked me since for the “lesson I taught them,” as if they needed reminding who really taught them the lesson.
I am grateful to my bishop for these inspired words and to my Heavenly Father for my many blessings. I am a great-grandmother, but I thoroughly enjoy reading the New Era and find many inspiring articles therein.
Ora Lee KnechtLogan, Utah

In February 2017, I was working here at BYU-Idaho as the Institutional Planning Managing Director. One of my responsibilities at the time was providing budget support to the Online Learning and Pathway departments. On February 7, the Church announced the creation of BYU-Pathway Worldwide. With this announcement, the Pathway organization would be relocated from Rexburg to Salt Lake City. I remember thinking at the time, “I’m glad I don’t work directly for Pathway so I don’t have to move my family with the team.” Well, long story short, then-president Clark G. Gilbert asked me to be the Budget Officer for BYU-Pathway Worldwide and move my family with them.

I remember going home from work that day, waiting for our four young children to go to bed, and sitting down with my sweetheart and telling her about my conversation with President Gilbert. Tears flowed as we talked about the decision ahead and the impact it would have on our children. I still vividly remember the conversation. Some of it was Taunia asking the following questions:
Taunia: “Where will we live?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Taunia: “How much will you make?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Taunia: “What are the employee benefits?”
Me: “I don’t know. But the good news is we have a couple of weeks to decide!”
Ultimately we both agreed that, no matter the outcome, we wanted to do what was best for our little family and that the Lord knew what was best for us. We didn’t ever want to look back and wonder what might have been or have regrets for not trusting in Heavenly Father’s plan for us. So we fasted, prayed, and went to the temple, earnestly seeking direction from the Lord.

It became evident that we needed to accept this opportunity and move to Salt Lake. So we did. And it was hard, difficult, scary at times, and overwhelming. But it was also wonderful, faith-building, a tremendous opportunity in many ways, and we had so much peace knowing that we had subjected our will to the will of the Lord, and, no matter the outcome, it was where we were supposed to be. I will be forever grateful for the experiences we had in Utah, the friends we made, and the circumstances that allowed us to return back to Rexburg six years later.

When he was eight years old, President Thomas S. Monson decided to have a campfire with his friend Danny. There was just one problem—the field they wanted to use was dry, prickly, and full of weeds. It was then that young President Monson had an idea: “I said to Danny, ‘All we need is to set these weeds on fire. We’ll just burn a circle in the weeds!’ He readily agreed, and I ran to our cabin to get a few matches. …

“… I recall thinking that the fire would burn only as far as we wanted and then would somehow magically extinguish itself.

“I struck a match on a rock and set the parched June grass ablaze.” Soon realizing the fire would not go out on its own, the boys ran for help, and the blaze was put out after several hours of work.

“Danny and I learned several difficult but important lessons that day,” said President Monson, “not the least of which was the importance of obedience.”3

After two industrious weeks, members of the Bulawayo and Nkulumane Zimbabwe stakes completed two service projects at two centres—the Ramstein Salvation Army Home of the Aged and Qinisani Daycare Orphanage.

The time period of the service projects was packed with clearing of the yard, cleaning of the centres and construction of a rabbit cage. Donations of four rabbits were made to the two centres.

President Mzingaye Ndlovu, a leader for the Church in Buluwayo, addressed the attendees at the handover, a joyful event where members of the Church sang Christmas carols for the elderly.

“Continue to follow the example of Jesus Christ and also light the world here at Ramstein Salvation Army Home of the Aged. Our Lord Jesus Christ, went about in a ministry that extended over a period of three years. [During that period of three years] nothing was about Him. He sought to lift others,” Ndlovu said.

Recently at a fast and testimony meeting, a young woman stood and expressed gratitude for her Primary class and commented how well, with the encouragement of their mothers, each girl had responded to both class work and activities. Then, during that same meeting, a sister stood and thanked her Heavenly Father for the new call to be president of the Young Women. She committed herself to that service, then pleaded with the mothers to see that the girls would be there.

Whenever I have been in the hospital someone in my family has been with me almost constantly, even when I was in the Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. (My home is in Provo, about 45 miles away.) My mother even gave up going on a free cruise that my father was directing so that she could be with me while I was recuperating from one operation.
My mother is always here, 24 hours a day, for whatever I need. Whether it’s to rush me to the doctor or just comfort my sorrows, I always know she is near. It would be very difficult for me to try to get through a day without her loving care.

“Hooray! No more school until Monday!” Jennifer said as the bus pulled up to her stop.
“I’m glad too,” Katie said.
Jennifer and Katie stepped off the bus.
“Want to come over and play tomorrow? ” Katie asked.
“Thanks, but I can’t,” Jennifer said. “We have general conference tomorrow.”
“What’s that?” Katie asked.
“Well, it’s for our church,” Jennifer said. “Twice a year we listen to talks from our Church leaders—the prophets and apostles.”
“You mean a bunch of sermons?” Katie asked.
“Kind of,” Jennifer said. “But we can watch it on TV.”
“Sounds boring,” Katie said. “And it’s all day?”
“It’s not too bad, but if I can get off early I’ll call you,” Jennifer said.
“OK. See you!” Katie waved as she walked to her house.
Mom and Dad asked Jennifer and her siblings to set a goal to watch at least one full session of general conference a day. If Jennifer watched Saturday morning, then maybe she and Katie could work on their playhouse in the afternoon.
The next morning, Jennifer awoke to the smell of warm cinnamon rolls. She heard the Conference Center organ prelude music coming from the living room. She went to the kitchen to help Mom move the cinnamon rolls from the baking sheet to the plate.
“Mom, after I watch the first session this morning, can I play with Katie this afternoon?” Jennifer asked.
Mom smiled. “Well, general conference is really important, and it only happens twice a year,” Mom said. “But after you watch the first session, you may decide for yourself what to do with the rest of your day.”
“OK,” Jennifer agreed.
“You might want to pay close attention too,” Mom added. “Katie might have some questions.”
As the session started, Jennifer caught herself daydreaming about playing with Katie. Then she remembered what Mom had said. Maybe she would learn something from conference that she could share with Katie. Maybe she could even explain to her why general conference really wasn’t boring at all.
Jennifer started paying closer attention. She liked listening to the choir sing and watching as the camera scanned the faces of the singers. She liked listening to the speakers too. Although she didn’t understand all of the talks, she liked it when she could recognize her favorite scripture stories or when the Apostles told stories about their own lives. Jennifer especially loved seeing the kind face of the prophet and listening to him speak lovingly of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Just like going to church, listening to general conference gave Jennifer a warm, peaceful feeling inside.
After lunch, Dad turned on the TV for the afternoon session, and Jennifer followed Mom back into the living room.
“Have you decided what you are going to do?” Mom asked.
Jennifer nestled into the couch. “I think I’ll just listen to conference some more,” she said. “I can play with Katie next Saturday. And, after all, conference only comes twice a year.”

Years ago, I was driving home when I received a phone call that changed everything for my life. My mother, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer in her late 50s and had battled it courageously, had been rushed to the hospital. What we initially feared was the return of her breast cancer. It turned out to be something even more devastating. She had developed a second cancer, colorectal cancer—an aggressive disease that ultimately took her life.

As I drove, my heart was heavy with worry. I found myself praying—pleading, really—for her comfort and healing. What struck me wasn't just the urgency of that prayer, but something else entirely. Before I had even finished speaking the words, I felt peace. Not the kind of peace that comes after receiving good news, but deep, settling peace that whispers, "I am here, and I hear you."

Despite this immediate comfort, my mother did not recover; she passed away just a few weeks later from that colorectal cancer that had developed so rapidly. Yet through that experience, I came to know without doubt that God was fully aware of her suffering, her faith, and her eternal well-being. She is okay now, safely in His light, and that assurance has strengthened my testimony of His infinite care.

The peace I felt in that moment wasn't God's response traveling to me from some distant heaven. It was the resonance of His Spirit within my own, a reminder that He was already there, he was already aware, and already caring.

I want to return to when I was driving to the hospital, worried about my mother. The peace that I felt in that moment of prayer wasn't wishful thinking or emotional self-comfort. It was evidence of a connection that existed long before that crisis and it continues long after. Though my mother passed away far too young, she left behind a legacy of faith, love, and quiet strength. Through it all, I felt that same resonant peace. Not because the pain was gone, but because I knew she had moved from one realm of God's light to another, and our family's connection with the divine continued. Through this trial, I learned that God was intimately aware of her every moment, her courage in the face of suffering, and her eternal progression. She is okay—more than okay—in His loving embrace, and that knowledge has deepened my faith in His plan.

Elder Camargo, who joined the Church in an unusual way, said that “the missionaries never knocked at my door.” After a short career as an officer in the military service, Elder Camargo decided to become a Protestant minister.

He attended the Methodist seminary for three years. “On one occasion in one of my seminary classes,” he related, “the teacher was discussing the beliefs and doctrines of certain Christian groups. I remember asking him about the Mormons, and he said that he didn’t know if Mormons were even Christians. I said, ‘I think they are, because the name of their church is The Church of Jesus Christ of something,’ but I couldn’t remember the rest of it.

“The teacher said to me, ‘Why don’t you try to find out if there are Mormons in S¶o Paulo so that we could invite one of their ministers to come to us and explain their doctrines.’ So I went to the mission home in Sac Paulo and met the mission president who sent two missionaries to our class to explain the doctrines. This was the beginning. I left the seminary, studied the gospel for about eight months, and then was baptized with my wife and five children. Another child was born soon after we were baptized.”

I am the deacons quorum president in my ward. I stayed after church with two friends to tidy up, emptying trash and putting up chairs. After we were done, we started to walk home.
It was a hot, sunny day. As we were walking home, a woman called to us from her doorway. She asked if we were missionaries. We said we were not. She said, “But you are Mormons, aren’t you?” We told her that we were and asked what we could do for her. She told us that her husband was very ill and they were heading to California the next day for surgery on some blood clots in his lungs. She asked us to come in and wondered if we could give a prayer. One of the other deacons said that if she meant a priesthood blessing, then we were not able to do that. The lady asked if we could at least give a prayer. I said that would be fine and that we would. I felt nervous about saying a prayer in a stranger’s home, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. I then offered a prayer. I prayed for this man’s safety and comfort and that he would feel better after his operation. The family thanked us, and we went home.
I really felt like the Holy Ghost was with us and helped us know what to do. Even though we don’t yet have the Melchizedek Priesthood and cannot give priesthood blessings, we were still able to help this family. When I got home I told my parents what had happened. We decided that the family probably did want and need a priesthood blessing.
I called the bishop and told him the story. He thanked me for what we had done. The bishop called the high priests group leader and sent him to check on the family. The sick man was given a priesthood blessing, and the family was very grateful.
One of the high priests called me later and asked if I could please organize the deacons to mow the family’s lawn. Since they were leaving town for the operation, they needed our help with their lawn. I would check on the lawn to see if it needed to be mowed and get the deacons together when it did.
This was one of the neatest and most spiritual experiences I have ever had. Our bishop said he thinks the Lord placed us in the right place at the right time for someone to show her faith and for the young men to respond as the Lord has designed (see D&C 84:111). He said this is an awesome example of the Aaronic Priesthood in action.
I will remember this experience for a long time. It helps me remember that I need to be an example of Christ at all times and in all places (see Mosiah 18:9). I could be called upon at any time to help or serve others, whether they are members of the Church or not. I don’t know if this family will ask more about the Church. I do know that they will remember that when they asked us to help them, we were able to give comfort and hope. It feels good to help others in any way I can!