Gospel Story Finder

I have a testimony that the things the bishop asks us to do will help us in our lives. The bishop asked the Primary kids this year to memorize the articles of faith. I memorized all of them. Later I was on the bus with my friend, and the conversation popped up about our beliefs. I told her that I read the Book of Mormon, and I didn’t really know what to say after that. And then the eighth article of faith popped in my head, and I recited it.
Allison H., age 9, Illinois, USA

At the age of 16, I was invited to work on a ranch in the United States, with the possibility to one day build my own home there. That appealed to me, since my homeland, the Netherlands, is just a small country, crowded with inhabitants.
In fact, my ancestors on my father’s side all felt a similar desire to live in another place. They moved to Indonesia, which used to be a Dutch colony. I could totally understand why. In Indonesia, the weather is nice, the landscapes are beautiful, and space is abundant. My genes contained the same wanderlust that inspired my ancestors. Should I also leave my native land in search of success and adventure?
During that decision-making time, my dad handed me a copy of a letter written to him and his sisters many years before by their mission president, Donovan van Dam. President van Dam asked them to stay in the Netherlands and build the Church there. My dad told me that he had decided to do exactly that. And since the Boom family name was on the letter, it was now my turn to find out what to do.
In the years after World War II, many Church members had emigrated to America and Canada. That was still going on in the 1970s, despite encouragement from Church leaders for members to stay in their own countries and strengthen the Church where they lived. Prayerfully, I also made the decision to stay and build the Church in the Netherlands, not fully understanding what that would mean in the future.
When I finished high school in the late 1970s, the Dutch economy was in turmoil. Unemployment rates were high. All in all, things looked pretty dismal. It was difficult for graduates to decide what to do next.
My father was serving as branch president. Now and then he discussed with me the possibility of serving a full-time mission. Of course, that would be a wonderful thing to do. I had been looking forward to that my whole life.
But I didn’t see how serving a mission could help me provide for my future family. Since childhood I had always had a great desire to one day find the love of my life and to build our family together.
I was 17 at the time, and not knowing what to do next, I started my next level of education. But after several weeks I found that this field of study was not going to make me happy. I had questions about whether it would even provide me with a stable job. I thought about quitting school.
My parents were not happy about this. They told me I could only quit school if I had a job. They probably thought that I would never find one because of the financial crisis. I spent all afternoon on my bicycle, going from one business to the next. Finally a company hired me to work in their warehouse.
Even though I took this temporary position, I had a plan. I was going to be a policeman. Working for the government would be a stable way to provide for my future family and everything would work out.
I remember the day that I went to take the exams to get into the police school. I took the train early in the morning and spent all day doing all kinds of tests. At the end of the day I was called into the office. They told me I passed all the exams and they would love to have me, but because I was 17, I was too young. They told me to try again in a year.
My world was shattered, and all the way home I was thinking, “What next?” At home my dad listened to my frustration and offered to give me a blessing. I expected that the Lord was going to tell me that everything would work out and I would be admitted to the police academy in a miraculous way. Instead the Lord told me that if I would choose to put Him first, I would always have bread on my table and the means to take care of my future family.
In response to my prayers, I received the answer that, for me, putting the Lord first meant serving a full-time mission. I had always intended to do that but had not seen how one step would lead to another. Now I knew that serving a mission was what I was going to do, and I wanted to do it as soon as possible.
Back then, the cost for a mission was 10,000 guilders in old Dutch currency, or about a year’s wages. I carried on working in the warehouse and by the summer of 1981, I had my 10,000 guilders. I had also turned 18. My father, the branch president, told me I was too young for a mission, as did the district president and mission president. At that time, you needed to be 19. But on my 18th birthday I went to the doctor and the dentist all by myself and had them fill in their parts of my missionary application.
Somehow, I managed to get my leaders to interview me and submit my application. Then we waited. I didn’t know that my father, as branch president, had received a letter. The application was returned to him with the notification that I was too young. But he hadn’t wanted to share that with me yet, so he carried it around in his suit pocket for weeks without letting me know. Fortunately, in the meantime he had received another notification. It said that in some situations the Brethren were willing to let young men go earlier when they were well prepared. Soon I was called to serve and was assigned to the England London East Mission. My mission became the blessing of a lifetime.
Three months after I returned from my mission, I did meet the love of my life. A year later we were married and sealed in the London England Temple. The economy was still not in good shape, but I have always been able to have a job and provide for my family. There has always been bread on the table and a roof over our head.
As a missionary, this became one of my favorite scriptures: “Inasmuch as ye shall keep the commandments of God ye shall prosper in the land” (Alma 36:1). With that as a guide, I decided to do what my father had done—to stay in the Netherlands and build the Church in my native land.
Elder and Sister Boom’s family in 2019. Since that time, another granddaughter has been born.
Today the tiny branch where I grew up is now a wonderful ward where our grandchildren enjoy the company of many friends, gathered in a large Primary. Our sons have good professions and are blessed with bread on the table. I see that my decisions have had an impact on the next generation, who also desire to put the Lord first in their lives.
I am grateful that I learned early in my life that the right decision is to overcome the cares of the world and put Heavenly Father first. He has given me blessings that otherwise I never would have known.

As a young teen growing up in Santiago, Chile, Andrea González never had much except for a dream—a university degree that would allow her to support her family if necessary.
To get there, she hoped to graduate from seminary, get good grades at school, and score high enough on her college placement exam (PSU) to go to a university where she could study engineering.
But by the time she had started her final year of high school in preparation for the PSU, she started to wonder if any of that was possible. “All my goals seemed impossible to achieve,” she recalls.
Andrea was trying to break into a competitive and male-dominated field of study. Because of the competition, the top universities were looking for extremely high scores on the math portion of the PSU, scores usually earned by those who could afford to attend private schools.
To try and overcome these obstacles, Andrea kept a daunting schedule her final year. She was up early and studying after school until late, eating when she had a free moment and squeezing in seminary four nights a week.
“It was discouraging sometimes,” she says. “I had to sacrifice a lot. I don’t know how many times my friends heard me say, ‘No, I’ve got to study’ or how often I’ve been teased for being smart.”
But she knew she couldn’t give up if she wanted to secure her future.
Her sacrifices paid off. On the math section of the PSU, Andrea was one of 200 students in the country to earn a perfect score of 850 and one of only two girls from public schools to do so.
She also graduated from seminary, got the good grades she studied so hard for, and was named by her classmates as the year’s “Best Friend” because of all of the time she spent helping others with their own studying.
But Andrea believes her success has less to do with how much she knows than it does with what she knows she must do. In other words, blessings come from following the Lord’s counsel, not our own (see 2 Nephi 9:28–29). “It’s not worth anything to be smart if we ignore God,” she says. “You always have to put God first.”
Learning that principle as she studied for her college entrance exam was critical to the other test Andrea was taking—the test of life that everyone must take.
The Lord Himself explains this test in the scriptures: “We will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them” (Abraham 3:25).
“Heavenly Father tests us to see what we will do,” Andrea says, thinking back on the difficult schedule she had to keep and the teasing she sometimes had to endure. “To pass life’s test, we have to be obedient,” Andrea says.
And not just when things are going well but during the hard times too.
“The great test of life,” said President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency, “is to see whether we will hearken to and obey God’s commands in the midst of the storms of life.”1
Often her two tests collided. That’s when Andrea learned that putting God first was the secret to passing both tests.
Many times she had to choose between Church activities and school activities, between studying the gospel and studying for her test. She says she learned early on that she felt better if she chose Church first. It strengthened her testimony that Heavenly Father would help her with her concerns if her first concern was Him.
These experiences also taught Andrea another important lesson. “He is capable of helping me with the tests He has given me,” she says.
Or as one of her heroes, Nephi, said, “I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7).
Andrea knows that even though she has passed her first test, there is a lot she must learn before she’ll feel ready to pass the next. But she knows if she puts God first, He’ll help her pass that test too.

The Coopers have been reading in the Book of Mormon as they study Come, Follow Me.
How come the people kept getting wicked again and again after they were blessed so much?
Yeah. It’s like they just kept forgetting.
A little later, over ice-cream sundaes …
Heavenly Father gives us lots of blessings. What if we started writing them in journals? So we won’t forget.
We could write down the extra-nice things people do for us too.
Like me letting you have the rest of the whipped cream.
That night …
Hmmm. I’m having trouble deciding how to start my journal.
Just say, “I, Matt, having goodly parents and a great sister …”
“… goodly parents and a funny sister …”
Keeping a blessings journal is a great idea. I’d do it myself if I could hold a pen!

“If choosing the right is supposed to bring you blessings,” I thought to myself, “then why am I sitting alone in the hall of my new junior high?”
I didn’t know many people in my new school. My music class was where I felt most comfortable because I like to sing. After weeks of being the new kid, it was nice to feel like I fit in. Today, however, was different. Mrs. Wyler (name has been changed) had brought a recording of a popular Broadway musical, one my stake president had cautioned us to avoid. Mrs. Wyler turned to the class: “Any comments before we start?” she asked.
I squirmed in my chair. Everyone was looking eagerly toward Mrs. Wyler, the disc in her hand. I thought perhaps I could sing Church songs in my head to drown out the lyrics she would play, but I knew that would be hard for me in this situation. I looked at Mrs. Wyler as my hand slowly went up in the air.
“Yes, Jill?” she said as she inserted the disc into the player. I couldn’t think of what to say. I couldn’t say that my stake president told me not to listen to this musical, because she wouldn’t know what a stake president was. I had no idea how to explain, especially in front of the entire class.
“I have religious objections to this musical,” I said, knowing it sounded lame. The class was now watching me in silence.
“Oh,” said Mrs. Wyler, glancing at the clock, “Why don’t you just take your chair and sit in the hall this period.” As the door swung shut I could hear the wave of laughter as the music began. Sitting in the hall was miserable. “So much for making friends in this school,” I thought.
A couple of weeks later in English class, my teacher passed out copies of some new poems. One student raised her hand. “I have religious objections to these poems,” she said. I glanced over at her quickly, thinking she was making fun of me, but she looked back at me and smiled a real smile.
Instead of having people think I was stupid for having standards, it became the popular thing to do. Sometimes you have to show where you stand by where you are willing to sit.

Kristin: “The first time I felt totally alone—isolated by the fact that my husband is not a member of the Church—was the day our first baby was blessed. Shortly before the meeting began, the ward clerk handed me a small card to fill out. Most of the questions were routine, but one made my heart leap to my throat: Had my baby been ‘born in [the] covenant’?

“Suddenly all my faith, activity, and service in the Church seemed very inadequate. I had failed, it seemed—failed myself and my innocent child. I have never felt so empty as when I checked the small box that said ‘no.’”

One day Toshiro Yoshizawa, who served in the army during the war, encountered two young Americans holding a meeting in the street; they were among the first LDS missionaries called to serve in Japan after the war. One of them, Elder Ray Price, spoke with respect of the service Japanese soldiers had given their country and talked of how all men and women are brothers and sisters and ought to treat each other with love. This message drew Toshiro to gospel study and eventually to conversion. He and his wife, Midori, baptized in 1953, are among Japanese pioneers whose service helped sustain the Church after its postwar establishment. Brother Yoshizawa went on to become a branch president, district president, counselor to four mission presidents, stake president, and mission president. He was called as patriarch of the Fukuoka stake in 1986. Sister Yoshizawa has served as a teacher in the Sunday School and in numerous Relief Society teaching and leadership callings, often holding several callings at the same time in the early years.

I was born into a Latter-day Saint family and grew up following the Church standards as outlined in the pamphlet For the Strength of Youth. I didn’t drink, smoke, or swear; I dressed modestly, and I tried to keep the Sabbath day holy. This made me something of an oddity in my small New England town.
Though I did have a few friends who had similar standards, I had many more friends who did not. In my high school I was frequently teased about my standards and the fact that I was a Mormon. I was also the only person in my high school who could boast of living on a dairy farm, which didn’t add to my popularity. I was known as “the good Mormon farm girl,” wholesome to the core.
When I was 16 I had the opportunity to go to Ecuador for the summer as an exchange student. I looked forward to this opportunity to live in an exotic location, but some of my excitement was reserved for meeting new people who wouldn’t know I was a Mormon. I decided that it wasn’t necessary for the people of Ecuador to know that I was LDS. I could still live the standards—but quietly and unobtrusively.
In Ecuador I attended an orientation with other exchange students from all over the United States. I quickly made friends, some that I would see almost every day that summer because we were staying with host families in the same city. Others I saw throughout the summer at parties and field trips. It felt wonderfully liberating to meet people who didn’t know my family’s entire history. They didn’t know I was a farm girl or that I was Miss Squeaky-clean. For the first time in my life I felt popular and accepted.
After orientation I met my host family. The very first thing we did, before I even unpacked, was to walk to a liquor store. My host sisters informed me that they were giving a big party that night in honor of my arrival, and they wanted me to pick out the booze. They were surprised to learn that I didn’t drink and pressured me about it. I finally had to admit that I was Mormon.
My stay in Ecuador marked the beginning of the most intense test of living Church standards I had ever faced. I was frequently pressured to drink alcohol. I met several handsome, fun young men who were anxious to get to know me a little too well. The other exchange students quickly learned that I was a Mormon, and they had quite a bit to say about it, much of it negative. One girl, who was known for her partying, teased me frequently about my moral standards. She suggested that I thought I was better than others because of these standards.
Though I never seriously considered abandoning my standards, I did begin to question why I was making these choices. I felt like it wasn’t good enough anymore to say, “Because of my religion, I don’t do such-and-such” or “That’s how I was raised.” I knew I needed a testimony of my standards if I was going to continue to uphold them. I wanted a stronger testimony of the restored Church.
I started reading the Book of Mormon on my own for the first time, and I finished it in 13 days. The Spirit testified to me that the powerful testimonies of those ancient prophets were true. I was filled with joy and gratitude that I had the privilege of being a member of Christ’s Church. This precipitated a complete change in my attitude toward Church standards. My newfound testimony of the Book of Mormon gave power and substance to my beliefs. I felt proud of my standards, and it became easier to live them.
Nothing had really changed as far as how I lived, but my feelings were different. Nothing about me had outwardly changed, and yet I was a new person. I even noticed that my new friends responded to this change in me, perhaps without realizing it. They seemed to have greater respect for me.
One day I was alone with the girl who had been making fun of me in front of the other exchange students. She confided that she wished she had been raised to have the same standards I had. She said she wished she had never had a drink and had never been unchaste. She was not the only one to tell me that.
When I was a senior in high school, a good friend who had gone on to college was visiting at Christmas break. She told me that she wished she had been taught my standards as a child because it would have been much easier to keep from getting into trouble. She told me to hold on to my standards no matter what because they would keep me safe.
A couple of years later when I was in college a girl I had known in Ecuador came to visit. She told me she wished she had been raised a Mormon because then she might have avoided the burdensome sins she’d committed. I felt very sad for my classmates, and on both occasions I cried with them over the pain they’d suffered. They’d had to learn the hard way that “while you are free to choose for yourself, you are not free to choose the consequences of your actions” (For the Strength of Youth [2001], 4.)
At first it surprised me a little to think that other teens were envious of my standards. Hadn’t so many of them made fun of me in high school? Didn’t teens want fewer restrictions instead of more? However, it soon began to make sense. My standards did keep me safe, and everyone wants to feel safe. Living the standards as outlined in For the Strength of Youth had spared me a great deal of pain. Also, more importantly, because I was exercising faith by living those standards and reading the Book of Mormon, I was worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost. It was through the Holy Ghost that I was able to obtain one of my most valued possessions: my testimony of the Book of Mormon and the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.

I was raised on a small farm near the town of Cleveland, a rural area in southeastern Utah. In the region there were many stories of Butch Cassidy, a cowboy outlaw, that remained in the conversations of the older generation. As a 12-year-old boy, I, along with seven of my buddies, became intrigued by the stories and planned an adventure. We wanted to ride the trail of Butch Cassidy and explore his hiding places in Cedar Mountain.
After much persuasion, we talked our parents into letting us ride our horses to Cedar Mountain. Two adults would join us—one to ride with us, the other to drive a truck to a designated camping area carrying our bed rolls, food, and hay for the horses.
We arrived at our campsite at dusk and started to prepare for the night. I remembered the instructions given to me by my parents. They had taught me how to tie up my horse to a strong live tree; how to leave the rope just loose enough for him to feed from the ground, but not so loose that the horse might step over the rope. I also remembered them telling me, “Never eat your dinner until your animals have been fed.”
Everyone took care of his own horse before turning his attention to his own needs—everyone, that is, except one. In haste to fix his dinner, my friend Billy tied his horse to a small dead tree and hurried off to the campfire. By the time we finished our duties, it was dark. Billy finished his dinner and then turned his attention to his horse. When he approached his horse in the dark, the horse spooked. Billy then made the fatal mistake of striking a match too close to the horse’s face. The horse reared back and pulled the dead tree from the ground. The tree, attached to the rope, hit the horse, which sent him off on a dead run. I will never forget the sound of that horse running into the darkness and the crashing of the tree he dragged behind him. The noise continued for 10 to 15 seconds, and then there was silence … followed by a loud crash.
One of the adults had run after the horse and was first to reach him. We grabbed our flashlights and followed. After searching in the dark, we found the horse at the bottom of a 50-foot cliff. As long as I live, I will clearly remember watching that horse die.
We were a group of solemn boys as we worked our way up the cliff and returned to camp that night. Each one quickly and quietly bedded down. All that could be heard throughout the night was Billy’s sobbing and the rustling of nervous horses that seemed to sense what had happened. It was a very long night.
That experience became a life-changing moment. As I lay in my bed gazing at the millions of stars in the heavens, the events of the day passed through my mind. I began thinking about the advice my parents had given me as I was growing up. Suddenly it all began to make sense. I had come to a point in my life where I was responsible for my actions. The decisions I was making now not only affected me but those around me. I began to see that the results of my disobedience could be disastrous, especially to those who depended on me. My mother had entrusted me with her treasured horse. How grateful I was that I had been obedient to her instructions.

While I was growing up, our family lived across the street from the ninth green of a public golf course. We spent hours sitting on the slope of our front lawn watching golfers complete their rounds. Once in a while a golfer would hit a poorly directed shot, and the ball would find its way into our yard. I would immediately try to find the errant ball and, if successful, carefully cross the busy street and stand at the golf course fence ready to return it for a small fee, usually a nickel and on occasion a whole dime. With my newfound wealth, I was then off to the corner grocery store to invest in the confectionery rage of the day, Double Bubble bubble gum. The comics, which were part of the gum’s wrapping, were the best.
By the time of my baptism I wanted to hit and putt golf balls rather than find them for others. The Scottish-born golf professional at the course was kind enough to allow some of us to play a few holes late in the evening after the paying customers stopped coming. In exchange for the privilege, we were expected to perform some chore like picking up papers around the clubhouse, bagging tees, or pulling a few weeds from the flower garden. Many times we played until it was so dark we could not see where we had hit our balls.
Over the next few years, golf became one of the great passions of my young life. I well remember the day my uncle gave me my first matched set of clubs. It didn’t matter that the shafts of each club bore the inscription “Property of the United States Government.” My uncle had purchased the clubs while he was in the military during World War II. I endured a lot of good-natured kidding about my military clubs, but I really appreciated the wonderful gift.

I remember hearing one such story when I was a young man. It was about President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985), and I had heard it so many times that I figured I could probably tell it in my sleep.
One stormy night, President Kimball saw a pregnant young mother and her two-year-old daughter in an airport. The mother couldn’t pick up her child because of the threat of miscarriage, so she scooted the sobbing child along with her foot.
Grumpy passengers looked at her judgmentally and said unkind things under their breath, but President Kimball immediately offered to help.
With the mother’s permission, he picked up and consoled the child and gave the girl a piece of gum. Then he kindly spoke to those in line and asked if the young mother could move to the front. The once-grumbling passengers immediately agreed. He spoke with the clerk and got them on the next available flight, ensuring them a safe and much faster trip home.

“When my grandmother was about 13 years old, she was out in front of her small home in Georgia sweeping the porch. A couple of men came by and asked to talk to her parents. During that day those two men taught my grandmother and her family about Joseph Smith, the restored gospel, and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. That night the missionaries were driven out of the city by some other people in the neighborhood. For 23 years my family had no contact with the Church, but when the elders were finally able to return, Grandma was baptized.”

Shortly after my parents were baptized in Ponta Grossa, Brazil, their bishop called them into his office for an interview and taught them about the importance of paying tithing. As he taught about the principle of tithing, the bishop also referred to the blessings of living this commandment as stated in Malachi 3:8–12. We read:
“Will a man rob God? Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say, Wherein have we robbed thee? In tithes and offerings.
“Ye are cursed with a curse: for ye have robbed me, even this whole nation.
“Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.
“And I will rebuke the devourer for your sakes, and he shall not destroy the fruits of your ground; neither shall your vine cast her fruit before the time in the field, saith the Lord of hosts.
“And all nations shall call you blessed: for ye shall be a delightsome land, saith the Lord of hosts.”
My parents went home that day from church pondering about these verses from Malachi. Their initial reaction was not to pay their tithing, as they were recently married with a young and growing family. Life was difficult and they still had a very limited knowledge of the gospel. My father, having a very strong personality and being very rational, was not willing to pay tithing, because in his mind they could not afford to pay ten percent of their income to the Church, but the promise from the prophet Malachi where the Lord says, “bring ye all tithes . . . and prove me . . . if I will not open you the windows of heaven” stayed in his mind. After counseling together, they decided to give it a chance and to do exactly as we are instructed to do in Malachi.
They started paying tithing out of obedience to the commandments, but over time they gained a strong testimony of the promises made in Malachi. They could see in their lives how the Lord opened the windows of heaven for them. I grew up listening to my father saying that we could not afford not to pay an honest tithing.

During my undergraduate days at BYU, other than my wife, Kathy, whose eternal influence is impossible to measure, two roommates—one before my mission and one after—greatly shaped my spiritual foundation. One was Reid Robison, now a professor at BYU in organizational behavior. I met him on my mission, and we were roommates afterward. Reid’s exactness in following the commandments, his love for the prophet, and his unwavering testimony of the Savior strengthened me and all those around him. And he has continued to be an example to me for the past 45 years.

The other roommate I mention is Terrel Bird, who now lives in St. George, Utah, USA. I met Terrel as we attended high school together in Pocatello, Idaho, USA. Although we played basketball together, our friendship came as I observed his spiritual maturity. He would openly share spiritual insights he was having and principles of life he was reading about and learning. I was surprised to hear these things from a 17-year-old. We decided to room together at BYU.

In those days, we didn’t have computers; we had typewriters. Terrel would take scriptures that were meaningful to him and quotations that instilled character, type them, and then store them in a small box so he could draw from them frequently. It was not uncommon for him to have more than a thousand scriptures and quotations, many of which he would memorize. Although I was working—cleaning the library every morning from 4:00 to 7:00—and carrying a full load of classes, in watching Terrel, I began to build my own file box.

Here is one of the quotes I still remember from almost 50 years ago:
Mind is the Master power that moulds and makes,
And Man is Mind, and evermore he takes
The tool of Thought, and, shaping what he wills,
Brings forth a thousand joys, a thousand ills:—
He thinks in secret, and it comes to pass:
Environment is but his looking-glass.11

I also remember, of course, powerful scriptures like this one:
“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
“And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die” (John 11:25–26).

Terrel helped me put into my mind as a freshman at BYU words of scripture and words of wisdom that have influenced me all of my life. I thank Reid Robison and Terrel Bird for caring about me spiritually at a time when it made a difference.

The second message that I feel I should follow up on was delivered just last general conference, when I encouraged members to pray to be led to at least one person to whom they could extend an invitation to learn about the restored gospel before Christmas. Many Church members have shared with me some special experiences as a consequence of their asking the Lord for missionary opportunities.
One returned missionary, for example, specifically prayed to be led to “the one” he could reach. The name of a former college classmate came into his mind. He reached out to her over Facebook, and he learned that she had been praying for purpose and meaning in her life. He followed up just at the time she was searching for the truth, and in December she was baptized.
Many similar invitations were reported to me, but only a few people have followed up like this brother did.

A Relief Society sister in Ghana visits a woman who thirsts for truth but cannot read. To give her sister the opportunity to drink deeply of gospel truths, the visiting teacher tries to be with her as often as possible. She reads the scriptures to her sister and explains their meaning, in her native tongue.
Through their daily acts of service, these women partake of and pass on to others the water springing up into eternal life.

Colin opened an auto mechanic garage called Clark’s Garage and drove the local school bus. When Clark’s Garage became busy, Colin could not spare the time to drive the school bus, so Phyllis stepped up to help. She continued to drive the school bus for the next 40 years.
Phyllis said, “The children have become an addition to my own family. I would see them every day, until they completed grade six and went onto high school. They called me ‘Auntie Phyl’. I still keep in touch with some of them today.”

Sofía was almost eight years old. She was getting ready to be baptized. She was learning lots of important things. One thing she had learned about was prayer. She knew she could pray to Heavenly Father anytime. She knew she could pray anyplace.
One day Sofía and her mom decided to visit her dad at work. It would be a long trip. Her dad worked in another town. They would have to ride on a bus, then in a truck, and then in a taxi.
During the bus ride, Sofía fell asleep. She woke up when she heard a baby crying. A mom and dad with a baby had gotten on the bus. The baby was sick and crying loudly. The baby’s parents looked worried.
Sofía felt sorry for the baby. She felt sorry for the parents too. Then she had an idea. She whispered in Mama’s ear. “Could I say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father to bless the baby?”
“Of course,” Mama said with a smile.
Sofía bowed her head and said a silent prayer. She prayed hard. She asked Heavenly Father to bless the baby. She asked Him to help the baby feel better and stop crying.
Sofía knew that we do not always get what we pray for. She also knew that our prayers are not always answered right away. But in a short time the baby calmed down. Then the baby stopped crying. She seemed to feel better. Her parents did not look so worried.
Sofía felt warm and happy inside. She was happy for the baby—and for the baby’s parents. She knew Heavenly Father had heard her prayer.

Deep desire to be of service and to demonstrate love can even benefit the bishop. In Sacramento, California, while the bishop was away on vacation with his family, the youth committee determined to paint his house. These young people had the time of their lives working together and anticipating the pleasant surprise of the bishop when he returned. A real bond of love was established between the youth and their bishop with such meaningful service.

To get to the Monares family’s one-room home in the city of Cebu, you have to walk through a maze of narrow, crowded alleys. When you enter the tiny room, the first thing you see is a New Era poster. It’s a photo of one yellow balloon floating above a group of blue ones, with a caption: “Rise above the blues.”

One shelf of a small bookcase is filled with new copies of the Book of Mormon to give away. “Our son is on a mission,” Santos Monares explains.

Brother Monares buys and sells merchandise on the street, hoping to transact enough business to feed his family. When he and his wife, Julieta, first started talking about going to the temple, Julieta didn’t want to build up her hopes. She felt it was useless to even try to save enough money for the boat trip. And then Brother Monares was sick for a long time. But somehow, they got enough money together for themselves and four of their children to make the trip.

When Sister Monares went to the market to buy food for the journey, someone pickpocketed all her food money. Again she was tempted to give up. But fast-offering funds helped pay for food, and they finally made it to the Manila Temple in April 1990.

“In the temple, we forgot all the problems of the outside world,” says Brother Monares.

Twenty-year-old Vicenta agrees. “When we were being sealed to my brother who died soon after he was born, I heard the voice of a baby!” For her, it was a witness that he was accepting the ordinance.