Gospel Story Finder

Ann:
“I love medicine so much, I’d practice it even if I didn’t get paid,” says Dr. Ann Osborn, a four-year convert who graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Stanford School of Medicine in California. She has a list of many accomplishments, including the fact that she was the Most Outstanding Woman in her 1970 graduation class, completing her studies one year ahead of the rest of the students. She graduated in psychology from Harvard, earned her M.D., and served her internship at the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City. She recently returned to Stanford, where she’s a resident in diagnostic radiology and is fulfilling a National Institute of Health traineeship.
Ann tells of her conversion with gratitude, joy, and the warmest smile:
“Four years ago I was in medical school. I had a Latter-day Saint professor whom I admired very much. He won the teaching award, which was presented by the student body, year after year. At that time I was very disappointed with what I saw in the religious world. I was a Methodist and saw that religion itself had very little effect on people’s lives. One day I asked this professor, who was also my aquatic school instructor, why he was so happy. He told me it was because of his religion, and then he began to tell me the Joseph Smith story. I discredited the golden plates, not knowing what they were, but knew that there had to be something beneath a religion that influenced a Mormon’s life. He promised me that if I’d go to a Latter-day Saint service, I’d find a faith with wonderful depth. I did go and found a beautiful spirit there. I was moved in a way I couldn’t understand, and I lost my control. Feeling tears in my eyes made me angry because I didn’t have a handkerchief, but most of all, I didn’t want to feel that way. I walked out of the meeting, but something told me to go back. I was baptized two weeks later, after having the discussions. In eight months, my sister Lucy was also baptized, and my brother and his wife joined in February 1971. Incidentally, before my brother knew anything about the Church, he asked a Mormon bishop to officiate at his garden wedding because he respected him so much.
“I found myself studying Church history more than medicine. I felt like an infant with so much to learn. For what other reason do we learn as much as we can if not to help the Lord with his work? We need humility about our knowledge to admit that we really need him and can call on him.
“I enjoyed my internship at the LDS hospital very much. I was thrilled to work with physicians who were elders. They work in the intensive care unit with a bottle of consecrated oil. It creates such a different doctor-patient relationship. I chose radiology as my field because it’s an eight-to-five job; there’s very little weekend work, and it leaves plenty of time for family and Church. I look forward to a temple marriage and a family of my own someday.”

Carter walked into the kitchen with his friend Devin and opened the fridge. He pulled out two sodas and looked around. Where was Mom? Normally she was home when he got back from school. But her car wasn’t in the garage.
He handed a soda to Devin.
“Thanks,” Devin said. “I’m so mad about the science project. Only one week to finish the whole thing!”
Carter took a sip. “I know! It’s not fair!” The project their teacher had assigned that afternoon was going to take forever.
Devin said, “Now we probably can’t go on our bike ride on Saturday.”
Suddenly a swear word jumped out of Carter’s mouth. He hadn’t even thought to say it.
Devin looked surprised, but not upset. They’d both started swearing at school during recess a few weeks ago. But they’d never used bad words in their homes before.
“My thoughts exactly,” Devin said. Then he added a swear word of his own. They laughed.
Carter glanced around the empty kitchen. Mom wasn’t home, and Dad was still at work. It felt … kind of exciting to say that word in his own kitchen. But he also felt uneasy for some reason.
“It’s messed up,” Devin said. “He should’ve given us a month.”
“Totally,” Carter said. He took another drink of his soda. He drank too quickly and the carbonation burned down his throat. “And you know what else?”
This time Carter strung together a sentence with three swear words in it that made Devin laugh so hard he almost spilled his soda. Carter laughed with him.
“What!?”
Carter felt like a bolt of lightning cut through him as he heard Mom’s voice. He turned and saw her standing in the doorway to the garage. He hadn’t heard the door open.
Mom’s face showed how much his words had hurt her. Carter felt awful inside. He wanted to crawl inside a deep, deep hole.
“Uh, I gotta go.” Devin grabbed his backpack and hurried out the front door.
“Carter,” Mom finally said. She wasn’t yelling. He almost wished she were—that would be better than the disappointment in her voice. “We’ll talk about this later.”
She set her bags on the table and walked upstairs. Carter cringed. She was too upset to talk.
Carter finished his soda quickly and went out to the backyard. He plopped down on a lawn chair.
A few weeks ago he had decided it wasn’t that big a deal to use bad words once in a while—as long as he didn’t say them at home or at church. But only a few minutes ago that swear word had popped out before he’d even thought about it.
Carter already knew what he wanted to say to Mom. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and ask for her forgiveness.
Swearing wasn’t worth it, Carter decided. Not at home, and not at school. Not if it made him feel like this. Not if it upset Mom that way.
He prayed to Heavenly Father and asked for forgiveness. Carter promised right then and there. He was done swearing. Not ever again.
He felt a little tug of peace in his heart as soon as he made that choice. That was the Holy Ghost, he realized, telling him he was making the right decision.

I climbed Long’s Peak one time with a group of men. Long’s Peak is 14,256 feet high, and as one gets above the thirteen-thousand-foot level, he finds, unless he is used to it, that his legs go numb about every fifth step. One can go four or five steps and then his legs go numb, and he has to wait for them to come alive before he can go farther. It took us about an hour and a half or two hours to go the last thousand feet.

Up on top I noticed that there was a ridge apparently running down in a direction which, if I could get on it, would save me the hours of going around the way we had come. Against the advice of my companions, I decided that I would take that shortcut. So I dropped down off the peak into a series of ledges which were waist high, just like a giant staircase, and before very long I was a thousand feet down. Then I ran into ice. During the evening before there had been an ice-storm up there. It was clear ice; one could not see it on the rocks, and the first thing I knew I slipped. I caught myself and then began to worry; for I could see when I got there that I could not make that ridge. There were glacial cirques on both sides thousands of feet deep, and I was caught. I cannot tell you how panicked I was. I was terribly frightened. I realized that the only way I could escape was to work my way, somehow, back to the top. Every so often I could hear a whistle blow up on top; that meant that one of the men was still up there. I will not describe the things I went through to start back upward to get out of the particular danger I was in, but finally I got to where I could move. I went up that thousand feet in twenty minutes without even losing my breath. You will say, perhaps, that it was adrenaline, but it was not; and when I got to the top there was Golden Kilburn, a man who was with us, waiting. He said, “I couldn’t leave. I knew you were in trouble, so I decided I would not go down this mountain till I found out where you were.” And I found out there the value of friendship, too, and of the loyalty and devotion of those who care for you.

After the building was completed, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, then president of Brigham Young University, took Teddy Kollek, the mayor of Jerusalem, on a tour of the building. For forty-five minutes, Mayor Kollek was virtually silent as he walked through the center. Finally he said, “You have taken the most beautiful piece of property we could have given you and have done more with it than I thought possible. I consider it the most beautiful building built in Jerusalem in recent years.”

He never sought Church positions, however, or felt that calls ought to come to him. When Elder Mark E. Petersen of the Council of the Twelve came to Palo Alto to reorganize the stake presidency in 1951, David Haight had served as a bishop’s counselor and was the junior high counselor. He felt sure he did not have the qualities the Lord required in a member of the stake presidency. But the next day he was sustained as stake president.

“He really did a great work while he was Palo Alto Stake president. He could see the growth coming,” says Ruby Haight. He oversaw the construction of a stake center and several chapels and acquired the pieces of land where all but one of the present chapels in the area have been built.

But more important, perhaps, he loved the people and gained their love in return. Richard Sonne, who served as a counselor in the stake presidency (he succeeded President Haight as stake president and later was president of the Oakland Temple), said President Haight “always complimented people. He went out of his way to get acquainted.”

President Haight’s leadership skills were steady. “He would explain to people, ‘This is what we should do,’ and expect them to carry out their responsibility.”

Today, he is known and appreciated throughout the Church for his focus on and ability to train priesthood leaders in the organization and effective use of priesthood councils and quorums.

Six-year-old Justin was playing on the floor with his cars. His mother leaned down and kissed him. “I’m taking Alison for her checkup; then I’m going shopping. I won’t be back until suppertime. Be good for Daddy while I’m gone,” she said.
“I will,” Justin promised. When Mother had left, Justin puckered his thick eyebrows. “I think Mommy’s sad,” he told Daddy.
“Oh? Why do you think that?”
“Because Christmas is almost here, and she told me that it’ll be over before she can enjoy it.” Jason explained.
“Mommy’s been very busy the past two months with both a new baby and a new house,” Daddy said. “She hasn’t had time to do all the special things that she likes to do for us at Christmastime.”
“I know, Daddy. Christmas is just a week away, and we don’t even have our tree up yet.” Justin bit his lip thoughtfully.
“Maybe we can put one up and decorate it tomorrow,” Daddy said.
Justin’s blue eyes sparkled. “Why don’t we do it now and surprise her?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Daddy replied. “Let’s get busy.”
“We can save some ornaments for Mommy to put on, too,” Justin said. “I know which ones are her favorites.”
By lunchtime, the tree was decorated. “It’s beautiful,” Justin sighed.
“So are you,” Daddy teased, pulling tinsel out of Justin’s hair.
Justin giggled. “What’s for lunch?”
“How about chicken noodle sandwiches and peanut butter soup? My own secret recipe.” Daddy always joked about his cooking.
“Yeah!” Justin shouted, jumping up and down. “And I’ll make the milk and pour the salad. My own secret recipe!”
After lunch Justin helped clear the table. “Mommy hasn’t made Christmas cookies this year, either,” he said. “Can we do that, too, Daddy?”
“That’s a big job,” Daddy said as he washed the dishes. “After you mix the dough, it has to chill for a long time. Then you have to roll it out and cut out the shapes. And I’m not sure I know what recipe your mom uses.”
“We could buy the rolled-up cookie dough at the store. You just slice the dough and put it on the cookie sheet. If we put colored sugar on them to make them pretty, they’d look like Christmas tree balls.”
Daddy laughed. “You’re full of ideas today, aren’t you? Get your coat. We’re going to the store.”
“Yea!” Justin yelled as he dashed through the house.
Later that afternoon Justin knelt on a stool and leaned over the kitchen counter as he helped his dad. The whole house smelled of freshly baked sugar cookies.
“Mommy will be home soon,” Daddy said, taking a last batch of cookies from the oven. “I think that that’s all we can do for today.”
“There’s just one more thing,” Justin said as he climbed down from the stool and headed for his bedroom. “I’m going to make a Christmas card for her.”
In a few minutes he came back with a pencil and his card. “How do you spell Alison?” he asked.
Daddy spelled slowly while Justin wrote very carefully.
When Mommy came home, she stopped in the doorway and breathed deeply. “What a wonderful smell!” she exclaimed. Then she stared at the lights twinkling on the tree. Daddy took her packages and Alison, and Justin handed her the card. She read:
“To Mom,
Does it feel like Christmas now?
We love you.
Justin, Daddy, and Alison.”
Mommy hugged Justin close. Her eyes sparkled like the lights on the tree. “Yes, Justin, it does. It feels like the best Christmas ever!”

When my wife, Christiane, and I were young, these were the words of our living prophet, and we trusted and followed his advice. We knelt across the altar of the Bern Switzerland Temple, being only 20 and 22 years of age, respectively. We were worthy of the covenant, we had no real clue of what to expect, we had no work experience or finished education, and we were quite poor.
All we had in abundance was our love for each other and a lot of naïve enthusiasm. But we began building our world together. We did not postpone having children, and we needed to support each other in getting our education. We strongly believed in the Lord’s promise that “if ye do keep his commandments he doth bless you and prosper you” (Mosiah 2:22).
And He did. When we married, Christiane was in nursing school. Our vision included having her finish her degree, but at the same time we also made a conscious decision to begin fulfilling our dream of having a family. As a result, our first child was born about two weeks before Christiane passed her final exam as a certified nurse.
Now, nearly 40 years later, we are grateful that we could build our family together. Our faith in God and our relationship with each other have become unshaken as we have seen the hand of the Lord guiding us through the process of building our kingdom in mortality. This kingdom will continue to grow forever and ever.

My husband and I both fell sick to COVID-19 in June 2021, to the point where we could barely get up. Our two babies—a six-month-old and a two-year-old—were healthy, but they needed to eat, and I, their mother, couldn’t even get out of bed.
My mother asked us to go over to her place so she could care for me and my kids. My dilemma was having to choose between the wellbeing of my parents or my children. My father and brother were on heavy medication for conditions unrelated to COVID-19. I did not want to expose my extended family to the virus, but my kids needed someone who was able to take care of them.
It was my mother’s birthday that day we went over. She took care of me and my father, and my siblings took care of my kids. My husband, who is also the bishop in our ward, did not come because he needed to be in the same lockdown area as his ward members in case they ever put up boundaries within the Suva area; our country was on lockdown.
My mum nursed me back to health and then fell sick to COVID herself. By this time, Fiji’s health system was so stressed that it took days for authorities to respond to our emergency call. We were told to take her to the hospital ourselves. My mum was put in a tent for COVID patients. Conditions in the tent were so poor that my father felt we needed to do something.
One day he walked right into the tent filled with COVID patients because my mother needed help to get to the bathroom, and no one was there to help her. His heart was heavy for the other patients in there, as well. Mum was moved into ICU a few days later.
We started providing nutritional packs for COVID patients in tents, to boost their immune system. Our friends and family on Facebook—both members and nonmembers—helped us put together food packs and fruit to help patients get healthy.
A friend of mine asked me to make a bowl of soup for her friend, who was in the isolation centre for mothers, because they weren’t getting sufficient nourishment. This mother was in our lockdown area, but her family members could not cross the border to tend to her needs.
I felt we needed to make soup for everyone else who might be in a similar situation. I put up a post on Facebook to find others who would be willing to help make soup for pregnant mothers and mothers of newborns in isolation. This brought a lot of kindhearted individuals together, united in a cause to help those who were suffering.
My husband and brother-in-law cooked the first lot of soup and delivered it to the hall where the mothers were isolating. My father and siblings would make the deliveries but on days when my father felt too weak to drive, we would get my brother-in-law and my husband—who live in a different town—to help.
Mum spent nearly two months in the hospital and doctors kept saying she might not make it. Hospital workers even discarded her clothes, thinking she wouldn’t survive. We would have family prayer every night with my mum on video call and we would hear her breathing heavily, with the beeping sound of the monitoring machines in the background.
Most nights at 7 PM sharp, Mum called to listen in on our family prayer. On nights she didn’t call, we knew she was not feeling strong enough, so our prayers were even more earnest. Our service to the other patients and our wrestling with the Lord through personal and family prayers helped us through this frightening time.
Our service might have helped others, but we were the ones being blessed—Mum came home alive!

One day I received a party invitation from one of my best friends, Joshua. The only problem was that his party was going to be on Sunday. I told him that I really wanted to be with him on his birthday but that Sunday was the Sabbath Day and not a day for me to go to parties. I asked him if he could change it to Saturday so that I could go. I learned that since he is Jewish, his Sabbath Day is on Saturday. Joshua understood why I couldn’t come to his party. Instead, I took a present to his house on Tuesday after school and shared leftover cake from his party. Tuesday even turned out to be his real birthday, and it was fun to share it together. He had even saved a party bag and treats for me!

I really love the New Era and look forward to seeing its bright yellow envelope protruding from the letter box. The standard of journalism and especially photography is higher than in any other magazine I have seen. I enjoy the fiction and look forward to any devotional addresses from BYU. I have found much good advice which helps me at University here in Canterbury.
I come from a nonmember family and have been a member of the Church for just over a year. Here in the South Island the Church is small but growing rapidly, and there are many leaving on missions now or very soon. At one stage when I was investigating the Church, I went through a time of rebellion when put off my baptism as long as possible. During that time the Church magazines were practically my only contact with the Church, and they helped me to overcome the world and be baptized. Thank you for such a high-class magazine.
Nicki WardChristchurch, New Zealand

It was Sunday, and my family and I were attending the dedication services of a newly remodeled meetinghouse in our area. Just a few minutes before sacrament meeting, the stake president asked me to please drive to our ward building, three kilometers away, to retrieve an item he needed. I had just enough time to get there and back. While completing that simple errand, I had an experience that touched me spiritually—a wonderful reminder of what is important.
With just a few blocks left to go to return to the meeting, I saw ahead of me two bicycles, one large and the other quite a bit smaller, each being ridden very energetically. I recognized the cyclists at once. They were two people I knew well, a good brother from my ward and his young son. They were riding to church—just as they did every Sunday.
As I watched them, there came to my mind an image out of the future, when that boy—and his father too—will remember those bicycle rides. I thought, “What a great example this father is setting and what an eternal influence he is going to have on the precious son God has given him. That boy,” I reflected, “may grow up to cherish that experience, and perhaps he will repeat it when he becomes a father himself.”
As I caught up to them, there sprang to mind an image of my childhood memories of my own father, who used to carry me on the handlebar of his bicycle. The close relationship that develops from these kinds of experiences is a pleasure to have and tender to remember.
When I got to church, I greeted the bicycle riders with a smile and received the same in return as they expressed silent happiness to be attending church. At priesthood meeting that afternoon, I had a chance to express to this brother how impressed I had been with the picture of righteous fatherhood I had seen earlier. His face brightened, and perhaps he was surprised because what I described was such a common occurrence for him.

When I became a parent, I felt a heavy responsibility to support my children on the covenant path and make sure they followed Heavenly Father’s plan.
Beginning in my teenage years, I’d noticed counsel to parents in nearly every general conference, including the following:
President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) told us that if we would “begin a serious study” of the Book of Mormon, we would “find greater power to resist temptation[,] … the power to avoid deception[,] … [and] the power to stay on the strait and narrow path.”1 So I knew my family would read the Book of Mormon as a family each day.
The family proclamation taught that “parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, … to teach them to love and serve one another, [and to] observe the commandments of God[.] … Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.”2
President M. Russell Ballard (1928–2023) reminded us that in order to “protect and preserve and strengthen our homes and families in a world pulling so hard in opposite directions,” we had to “be consistent in holding daily family prayer and weekly family home evenings[,] … teach the gospel and basic values in your home[, and] … create meaningful family bonds that give your children an identity stronger than what they can find with their peer group or at school or anyplace else.”3
As a young mother, I interpreted all this instruction to mean that it was my responsibility to save my children. I felt that if I did all these things with my family then my children would be inoculated from temptation and threats to their testimonies.
However, over the last few years as my children have faced increasing threats to their testimonies and some have stopped attending church, I have felt betrayed. I wondered why we didn’t seem to be experiencing President Benson’s promise that my children would be protected with power to resist temptation and deception and to stay on the strait and narrow path.
I approached the April 2022 general conference with a heavy heart. Another child had just informed me that she was struggling with her testimony. I started watching general conference asking the same question later addressed by Elder Adrián Ochoa of the Seventy in his Saturday afternoon talk, “Is the Plan Working?”4 In my mind, I feared it was not.
I prayed to know what I could do to help my children desire to return to church participation. Preferably immediately. Answers came during general conference. But the answers that came were not what I expected.
Three lessons helped me change my heart.
On Sunday morning, Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said:
“Some misunderstand the promises of God to mean that obedience to Him yields specific outcomes on a fixed schedule. They might think, ‘If I diligently serve a full-time mission, God will bless me with a happy marriage and children’ or ‘If I refrain from doing schoolwork on the Sabbath, God will bless me with good grades’ or ‘If I pay tithing, God will bless me with that job I’ve been wanting.’ If life doesn’t fall out precisely this way or according to an expected timetable, they may feel betrayed by God. But things are not so mechanical in the divine economy. We ought not to think of God’s plan as a cosmic vending machine where we (1) select a desired blessing, (2) insert the required sum of good works, and (3) the order is promptly delivered.
“God will indeed honor His covenants and promises to each of us. We need not worry about that [see Doctrine and Covenants 82:10]. The atoning power of Jesus Christ—who descended below all things and then ascended on high [see Doctrine and Covenants 88:6] and who possesses all power in heaven and in earth [see Matthew 28:18]—ensures that God can and will fulfill His promises. It is essential that we honor and obey His laws, but not every blessing predicated on obedience to law [see Doctrine and Covenants 130:20–21] is shaped, designed, and timed according to our expectations. We do our best but must leave to Him the management of blessings, both temporal and spiritual.”5
I’m sure I had heard similar teachings before, but this time it struck deep into my heart. This time I was ready to hear it, and I needed to hear it.
I was also reminded of an earlier general conference message from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, then the Second Counselor in the First Presidency:
“We cannot earn our way into heaven; the demands of justice stand as a barrier, which we are powerless to overcome on our own.
“But all is not lost.
“The grace of God is our great and everlasting hope. …
“Salvation cannot be bought with the currency of obedience; it is purchased by the blood of the Son of God [see Acts 20:28].”6
I knew this. I knew that I couldn’t earn my own way to heaven. But for some reason, I thought my obedience could earn my children’s way to heaven. The more I studied Elder Christofferson’s talk and others, the more I realized that I had been duped by Satan’s lie that my children didn’t need a Savior as long as I was a “perfect parent.” As I studied and reflected on those talks, the Spirit helped me begin to understand that all the work to protect my children against temptation and deception and to shore up their testimonies is essential but does not guarantee my children will stay on the covenant path.
Agency is a crucial part of Heavenly Father’s plan. We are all given the gift of choosing for ourselves, even if that means our children may choose to turn away from what they’ve been taught. Even so, the Lord is always reaching out to His wayward children in love, and as earthly parents we can do the same.
In the October 2018 general conference, Elder Dale G. Renlund taught:
“Though God wants us to be on the covenant path, He gives us the dignity of choosing.
“Indeed, God desires, expects, and directs that each of His children choose for himself or herself. He will not force us. Through the gift of agency, God permits His children ‘to act for themselves and not to be acted upon’ [2 Nephi 2:26].”
I find great comfort in what Elder Renlund said next:
“No matter how long we have been off the path or how far away we have wandered, the moment we decide to change, God helps us return [see Alma 34:31]. From God’s perspective, through sincere repentance and pressing forward with a steadfastness in Christ, once back on the path, it will be as if we were never off. The Savior pays for our sins and frees us from the looming decrease in happiness and blessings.”7
I know that we all need the Savior. This truth brings me profound relief. While it remains my responsibility to teach my children and support them on the covenant path, it is not my job to save myself or my children. That is the Savior’s work, and He is doing it perfectly. It is Heavenly Father’s work and His glory “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). He has a plan of salvation for all of His children. I need to trust in His plan, not my plan. And I’ve been trying to remember that He does keep His promises to protect and strengthen our families. I have faith that He is always inviting my children to come unto Him, and He will comfort and strengthen me as I strive to do the same.

Lilia, the mother, was baptized in the United States while she was visiting on a grant from the U.S. government, making her the first Moldovan baptized. That was in May 1997.
Then just six months later in November, her daughter, Lilia, became the first person baptized actually in Moldova. Since she was the first of several to be baptized that day, she treasures the honor of being allowed to be the first to join the Church in her country. Today both Lilias have been members for more than six years.
At first the only Church members in Moldova were three Latter-day Saint Americans: John Nielson and Paul and Betty Morris. They met in the Morrises’ home for sacrament meeting. Two elders from the România Bucharest Mission were sent to Moldova, and then the sheep began to recognize the voice of the Shepherd. Lilia and her mother began attending meetings after Lilia’s mother returned from the United States.
The younger Lilia tells the story of her conversion: “I started attending Church meetings six months before my baptism. I had my mother’s example this entire time. She introduced me to the Church by giving me a hymnbook. I came to love the first hymn I looked at, ‘Love One Another.’ I knew then that God wanted me to feel special and loved.”
In the six years since Lilia’s baptism, the branch has grown to 180 members, with many of the members being youth or young adults. Five young people from Moldova have already served as full-time missionaries and returned. Four more are serving missions now.
These young people love to talk about how the Church has changed their lives. “It makes me want to shout for joy,” says Alin Constantinescu, “when I realize that I belong to the only true Church. A deep feeling of thankfulness pierces my soul every time I think of the love the Lord has for us and the trust He has put in us as pioneers here in Moldova.” Alin is now serving a mission in Manchester, England.
“It shows in our countenances that we are a happy people,” says Mariana Turcanu, “and it is because of the gospel. It has changed my whole existence here in Moldova.”
The small country of Moldova looks like a slice of melon squished between Romania and Ukraine. The nation has about four and a half million people; they speak Russian and Moldovan, a language closely related to Romanian. The people who live in the capital city of Chisinau live in concrete high-rise apartment buildings. But in the country and villages, people still live in small self-constructed homes without running water, and many travel by wooden horse-drawn wagons or on foot. The countryside has fertile black soil that produces beautiful fruits and vegetables. The hills, though not high enough to be known as mountains, are covered with meadows of trees and grass with patches of bright yellow sunflowers.
The largest branch of the Church in Moldova is in Chisinau. President Ion Virlan is the first Moldovan to serve as branch president. His teenage daughter, Natalia, was among the first five to be baptized in November 1997. And a few months later the rest of her family joined the Church. There is also a smaller branch in the town of Orhei.
A lot of the youth activities organized by the Church have been firsts as well. The branch in Chisinau has had its first seminary and institute classes. The youth have held their first Super Saturday. And best of all, the branch has its first brand-new meetinghouse. The building was dedicated in December 2002 and is a monument to the pioneering efforts in Moldova.
It may sound a little strange to call such young members of the Church pioneers, but these youth understand they are leading the way for many more from their country. Juliana Musteata says, “Being a modern pioneer in Moldova brings joy and happiness into my heart and soul. I believe that if we work hard, we can influence the growth of the Church. I know that the Lord has blessed each one of us with the opportunity to set an example for others and share the gospel.”
“Yes, we are pioneers!” says Gheorghe Zugravu. “It is amazing to be the pioneers of our Lord Jesus Christ. We feel closer to our Savior as we share the gospel here in this country. We are the first, but after us will come many others who will love Jesus Christ as we do. We believe this with the whole power of our hearts.”
Part of their love for the Savior is shown in the ways the young people have chosen to serve. Just like others around the world, the young women in the Chisinau Branch have organized service projects. They made one project a yearly event. For the past several summers, they have helped care for children at orphanages in the city.
“We young women try our best to make these children’s lives more pleasant,” says Natalia Gligor. “We try with all our hearts to offer them love and comfort, to play with them, and to make them understand that there is somebody who loves them. We have a special program that can develop certain abilities. We try to inspire them to be attentive and curious. They lack many things, both material and spiritual. The spiritual things that are lacking are more painful, and the wounds are much deeper.”
Irina Vizitiv also helps with the orphaned children. She says, “Families are the biggest blessings of our Heavenly Father. I think through this service project, we have brought some light into the children’s lives. And I know this is very important to my Heavenly Father.” Irina, like many of the youth, is the only member of the Church in her family. She hopes her family will someday accept the restored gospel.
Coming to know their Savior is one of the best experiences these young people have. Katerina Bejan was the first seminary teacher in the branch and is currently serving a mission in England. She says, “I know that Jesus Christ is always with us and that He is the cornerstone of this Church.”
“I love to hear people say, ‘Jesus Christ lives!’” says Mariana Turcanu. “It feels so wonderful to know it for myself. And as sure as He lives, I know that my Redeemer loves me.”
Slava Schiopul knows many Moldovans are waiting to hear about the gospel. He says, “We must concentrate our lives in obedience to the commandments of Heavenly Father, yet there are only a few of us here in this country to help each other. However, by this obedience, we grow closer and closer to our Savior Jesus Christ, and He helps us to live in the light.”
Vasile Botan, now serving a mission in Paris, France, sees the Church coming to his country as one step in fulfillment of prophecy: “I know that before the Second Coming of Jesus Christ here on earth, His restored gospel has to be known by every nation, kindred, tongue, and people. I am very happy that this message has arrived for the people of Moldova. In this tiny country, we know God remembers us too.”
Like most pioneers, members of the Church here are struggling economically. The Republic of Moldova is a young country with few jobs or opportunities available. But Moldovans’ acceptance of the gospel of Jesus Christ and their determination to live righteously are their hope for the future.

How grateful I am for the power of example. The New Era truly sets a good example for the youth of today—our leaders of tomorrow. I’m thankful to a friend of mine who set an example for me four years ago when I was 18 by asking me if I would listen to the missionaries. I did and was shortly thereafter baptized. Now I am on a mission serving the Lord—supported by my non-LDS family. I hope I am setting an example for them. Thank you, Mike Johnson, for sharing the gospel.
Elder Chris D. AxentyIdaho Pocatello Mission

It was two weeks before Christmas, and the familiar stress of the season was upon me. I had presents to buy, a tree to decorate, and gifts to deliver.
For several months I had felt overwhelmed by the daily tasks that face a mother of five young children. I had even felt mechanical in my Church attendance as I wrestled with my little ones on the bench. I longed for an increase of the Spirit and of spiritual experiences in my life.
About this time my sister purchased a new home in a neighboring state and was trying to get things settled before Christmas. That would be a lot of work for any family, but for hers it would be even more difficult. My sister was eight months pregnant, a mother of two small children, and the caregiver of her quadriplegic husband.
Realizing the struggle she faced, I called her to see how things were progressing. She was optimistic about the move and hopeful that members of her new ward would be supportive. After our conversation I hung up the phone, wishing her good luck and wondering how I could help from 400 miles (650 km) away.
That evening the thought kept coming to my mind that I needed to be there to help. But as I looked at my schedule, I dismissed the thought and went to bed.
The next morning I awoke with the same prompting. The feeling was so strong this time that I could not deny it. I called my husband and said, “I need to go help my sister.” Without hesitation, he responded, “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
I called my sister, told her my plans, and booked a flight for that afternoon. I quickly packed my suitcase, kissed my children good-bye, and headed to the airport.
Over the next three days I unpacked boxes, organized rooms, and helped decorate a Christmas tree. After most of the boxes were unpacked, I sat with my sister and her family, admiring their pretty tree. My five-year-old niece, pleased that her family was ready for Christmas, exclaimed, “This is going to be a great Christmas!”
As I flew home, I knew that by giving part of myself to this sweet family, I had felt the Spirit, which I had been yearning to feel. It came because I had served others.

While I served as bishop, one of the Mia Maids in my ward came in for her annual interview. It was a bright summer day, and the rays of the afternoon sun reflected off the dust floating in the air. She and I talked about the significance of the small things in life versus the highly visible parts of what we are doing.
Without any warning she suddenly burst into tears and wept and wept. I left the chair behind my desk and walked around to where she was seated and sat down next to her. I attempted to comfort her.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I am so awful!” she cried out.
“What have you done that you think is so awful?” I asked.
“I am so cruel to my best friend. I deliberately play jokes on her to embarrass her in front of other people. I am just awful.” Then she cried some more.
“Could you give me an example of how you treat her?” I asked cautiously.
She described several situations that really were vicious, well-planned attacks on this other young woman that she claimed was her best friend.
“What am I going to do, bishop?” I remember her asking me.
As kindly and gently as possible, I explained to her that she must repent.
“How?” she asked.
“Well,” I said, “you have recognized that you are doing wrong toward your friend. That is the first step. Now you have to decide if you really want to repent. Do you really want to go all the way with this decision?” She nodded her head that she did.
Through the following days and weeks, this fine young woman worked hard at learning how to stop being quietly vicious. She changed her plans to hurt into plans that would help and lift.
She confessed her sins to me, as her bishop. Then kneeling together in prayer I listened while she confessed them to God. Finally, she went to her friend and made peace. In an attempt to make restitution, my young friend went out of her way to make life easier and less complicated for her true, understanding friend. I learned firsthand how it is equally as important to forgive as it is to seek forgiveness. Fortunately, these were two special young women.
Within a few months my young Mia Maid friend had forgiven herself—her friend had forgiven her weeks earlier—and she had been forgiven in heaven.
Her heart and mind are now at peace. I am certain that she still remembers how she treated her friend. That will help her remember not to ever do it again. However, she feels no heartache or torture of mind because she has fully repented.

I will forever be grateful to these sweet nuns, for their caring and gentle guidance when I was so lost. As I grew up and graduated from my school, I did the best I could on my own, but I always carried a feeling that something was missing. One day, a friend, who later became my husband, sent two missionaries to visit my house. This was the turning point of my life.
The missionaries taught me about the restored gospel and the plan of salvation. They taught me a truth that was complete, and I learned to know my Savior even better than before. I came to understand my purpose on earth.
Because of this knowledge about Jesus Christ and His gospel, I started seeing life from a different angle and came to know that one day my mom and I will be united again forever. Nothing could compare to the joy I felt after learning this great truth.

But, our story does not end there. It goes on to an event in his life and that of his wife, the former Aurelia Campo Barata of Llorente, Samar Province, in the setting of the Rocky Mountains, U.S.A.
Sometime in the first week of September, 1977, Bro. Odulio took a long lingering look at his car—a car that served him well and one that he had taken care of with his own hands as an experienced mechanic. It had to go to the best offeror at a price dictated by a quick-sale situation. Other personal effects also had to go at bargain prices. The reason: he had a goal to be sealed with his wife in a temple of the Lord, and the opportunity to go came when he was designated a participant in the October 1977 Conference in Salt Lake City.
On September 27, Bro. and Sis. Odulio left Philippine soil for the first time in their lives. On October 5, the very day Sis. Odulio celebrated her 40th birthday, they were sealed for eternity in the Salt Lake Temple together with their unborn child (she was then 7 months pregnant). Three days later, on October 8, Bro. Odulio also observed his 40th birthday. Husband and wife had the best birthday celebration ever in a setting that had been their cherished dream since their conversion to the Church.

When I was baptized in 2001, I began paying tithing every month. Then just eight months later, my husband passed away. I became a widow with two small children at home and one son on a mission. Although my financial problems were serious, I never stopped paying tithing. I have been blessed with more and more work, which has enabled me to earn more money. But even more important, because I pay my tithing I always feel at peace with the Lord.
Today my small house seems big and comfortable. I feel calm with my two little children. I will never stop paying tithing because I know the Lord has blessed me not only with physical and spiritual health but also with wisdom and peace.
Josefa Margarida dos Santos Fontes, Rio Grande da Serra Ward, Ribeirão Pires Brazil Stake

Lyle Chamberlain, 17, of Oak City, Utah, has a special friend. Her name is Iris. She’s a little on the short and stocky side, but her brain works just like a computer. She likes to run around, but she gets into trouble if there are stairs.
Iris is Lyle’s robot, something Lyle has been working toward nearly all his life.
Lyle has always wanted to build a robot. When he was a five-year-old, in kindergarten, he saw a television show about prosthetics—artificial limbs. From that moment on, Lyle wanted to build something that would move and think on its own. He tried putting a tape recorder in a cardboard box. But it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t really a robot.
In second grade, when Lyle was playing at his friend’s house, he was introduced to an Atari computer and computer games. “When I told my dad how neat it was and that we should get games like that for our computer, he told me, jokingly, ‘People make those games. Why don’t you make your own?’”
Lyle remembers, even at age seven, being impressed. “It hadn’t occurred to me. Grandpa had given us an old computer, and there were these college programming books with it. I pulled all those out and started looking through them and started typing in program listings. I was amazed. The computer was doing what I told it to do.”
At that young age, Lyle started teaching himself to program. Shortly after, Lyle wrote a program for a game called Maze Craze. “It has a stick man running through a maze. The stick man painted everywhere he had been. You couldn’t get back because it was poison paint, and the walls would shock you if you touched them. If you stayed in one place too long, you died. It was way too hard. I couldn’t play it.”
Little by little Lyle was finding ways to teach himself the things he needed to learn. He struggled to glean information from books that were way above his level. His dad would bring books home for him. And he would try to imitate things he saw others had done. “I didn’t know you have to go through college and work for years and years. I think being naive helped me because I was looking at it as if these men were playing around too.”
His mother and dad, Lisa and Chuck, couldn’t help a great deal. They freely admit to being computer illiterate. Plus taking care of Lyle and his two sisters and four brothers occupied all their time.
Lisa says, “When Lyle would try to explain something he was working on, all I could say was, ‘That’s nice, dear.’” But, over the years, she helped Lyle overcome obstacles like finding ways to enter the regional science fair when his school didn’t hold a local fair.
Lyle still wanted a robot. “My parents wouldn’t buy me one. They wouldn’t buy one of those toys. I would have all these ideas, and Dad would say, ‘Write the plans down first.’” And he found ways for Lyle to earn money while they were building their house. “I dug fence post holes, hodded brick, planted trees, did stuff like that. Dad said, ‘I’ve got to hire somebody; I might as well hire you.’”
Then, while on a river running trip with his Scout troop, Lyle walked into a convenience store late at night and saw a magazine on the rack that had the headline “Build Your Own Robot.” “I bought it and read it all the way through while everyone slept. There were things I didn’t understand at all, but that was okay. That article was my main source of information.” Looking back, Lyle comments, “Pitiful, wasn’t it?”
Lyle started building robots. At first, nothing seemed to work right because, as he later found out, he didn’t know enough. Then he needed to learn how to build things carefully. Finally, he built a robot that worked. His goal was now to make it to the international science fair. But he lost. He took third in the state competition.
“I was extremely disappointed. I stood back and said, ‘Why, what happened? There’s a reason I only took third. There is a reason that this other project beat mine.’ I looked at it for a while. I decided I could keep better records. I could have a better paper. There should be no doubt in the judges’ minds that I built this. I needed to know everything about it. I’ve got to have a better presentation.” By the time Lyle finished analyzing why he lost, he was ready to go to work again.
Lyle’s next robot took him to the international science fair. Again, he was blown away by the competition. But that was okay. Here were people like him. They didn’t sit and waste time. They would get ideas and say, Let’s do it. He came to see what it would take to win the next year.
The next year, Iris was born. Lyle said, “I thought of a lot of things, but other people had tried them and they didn’t work. I was in over my head. But I’m always in over my head. I found out that there is another way to have a robot ‘see’ other than using big, huge, complex computers. It was to simplify things. All the robot needs to recognize is one object—the floor. Anything that’s not the floor must be an obstacle.”
This time, Lyle knew what he needed to do to succeed. He kept meticulous records. He perfected his presentation. And he made sure Iris was working at her best. He knew his information backward and forward.
While at the international competition in Louisville, Kentucky, disaster struck. Iris’s eye—the digital camera—was damaged in shipping. An hour before his presentation, Lyle had the camera apart, working on it. “As soon as something goes wrong, especially at the science fair, there is no time for sitting back and wondering. You have to do something and do it now. No sense getting angry. It’s a waste of time. When the eye broke, I started diagnosing it. How am I going to fix it? How am I going to change my display? That’s one thing my dad teaches. You can’t be a victim. It’s up to you to make sure things are going right for you. Is your teacher a jerk? It doesn’t matter. It’s up to you to get a grade. You can’t leave it up to somebody else or put the blame on somebody else.”
Lyle goes on, “In my high school, there is no science fair. So I found a teacher to sign the papers. There is no mentor. But there are books. You are never stuck. There’s always something you can try as long as you’re willing to work hard.”
This time Lyle and Iris took some honors. He won the prestigious U.S. Army Gold Medal for Science and Engineering. And he took second prize in the fair’s engineering division.
All those times when Lyle didn’t win, he was disappointed for a while. Then he started figuring out what he needed to do to improve. “When I’d lose, I’d say, ‘Now I know how bad I did,’” explained Lyle. “Now I know what I’ve got to do. What am I going to do different?”
So robots must be the most important things in Lyle’s life? Not even close. “Family for me is the biggest, most important thing in my life. It wasn’t always like that. But it’s my family, specifically my parents and extended family, that keep me centered.”
Lyle says he is not the kind of person who accepts things on faith very easily. “It took me a while to realize that the Spirit of the Lord is a substantial, real thing, not just a belief.”
When Lyle’s younger brother Skyler was being ordained a deacon, Lyle was gathered with his father, uncles, and cousins in a circle to help with the ordination. “I thought, What could be better than to spend eternity with these people? I would do anything for anybody in this circle. The Spirit was very strong. That’s when I started thinking, It’s real, it’s substantial, it’s God’s power, and it’s been here all along. The thing I see happening in the family, the spirit that can be there, is the most important thing to me. I’d drop robots right now if the choice was between them and my family. I’m playing with little toys that pale in comparison to that.”
Now Lyle can build robots. He has reached one of the goals he has had all his life. Of course, he always wants to build another one that’s bigger and better than the last. But robots are not number one. His goals have changed, have expanded, to take in eternal things. He hasn’t got it all figured out yet, but all those years of being in a little over his head have taught him a few things: keep trying, keep working hard, keep praying, and keep learning. The answers are out there. And the most important ones come through music, through the feelings of the heart, and through a still, small voice.
There are worlds to conquer, but Lyle has found that the only one that really matters is the one that starts at home and leads to eternity.