Gospel Story Finder

Anya lives in Russia. When she was only 14 years old, she was being taught the gospel by the missionaries. One day in her school class, the teacher was saying false things about the Church and about the Book of Mormon. There were no Latter-day Saints in the school to defend it; but little Anya, who was not even a member, only an investigator of the Church, knew that what the teacher was saying was wrong. She stood up in front of the whole class and defended the Book of Mormon and the Church. What courage! She told them that what they were saying was not true and that she knew the Book of Mormon was true, and if anyone wanted to know the truth for themselves, she invited them to read it like she had done. Then Anya went home and told the missionaries she was ready to be baptized. I love Anya’s courage as she stood as a witness at an important time.

My three-year-old granddaughter illustrated the power of innocence and humility to connect us with God. She went with her family to the open house of the Brigham City Temple in Utah. In one of the rooms of that beautiful building, she looked around and asked, “Mommy, where is Jesus?” Her mother explained that she would not see Jesus in the temple, but she would be able to feel His influence in her heart. Eliza carefully considered her mother’s response and then seemed satisfied and said, “Oh, Jesus is gone helping someone,” she concluded.

No pavilion obscured Eliza’s understanding or obstructed her view of reality. God is close to her, and she feels close to Him. She knew that the temple is the house of the Lord but also understood that the resurrected and glorified Jesus Christ has a body and can only be in one place at a time. If He was not at His house, she recognized that He must be in another place. And from what she knows of the Savior, she knew that He would be somewhere doing good for His Father’s children. It was clear that she had hoped to see Jesus, not for a confirming miracle of His existence but simply because she loved Him.

On 20 April 1935, after five years as stake president, Brother Lee was called to the office of the First Presidency and was asked to take charge of a new Church welfare plan. He felt very humble and inadequate in this huge assignment. So, as was his pattern, he went to the Lord in prayer.

“As I kneeled down, my petition was, ‘What kind of organization should be set up in order to accomplish what the Presidency has assigned?’ And there came to me that glorious morning one of the most heavenly realizations of the power of the priesthood of God. It was as though something were saying to me, ‘There is no new organization necessary to take care of the needs of this people. All that is necessary is to put the priesthood of God to work. There is nothing else that you need as a substitute.’”

He resigned from the city commission and began a life of full-time service to the kingdom of God, never wavering in his assurance that God would guide him and that within the priesthood organization were the answers to all the challenges that lay ahead of the growing church.

Thirty years ago, while my wife and I were preparing for our civil marriage and our temple marriage, we received a call informing us that civil marriages were canceled due to a strike. We received the call three days before the scheduled ceremony. After several attempts at other offices and not finding available appointments, we began to feel distressed and doubtful that we really could get married as planned.
My fiancée and I “called,” pouring out our souls to God in prayer. Finally, someone told us about an office in a small town on the outskirts of the city where an acquaintance was the mayor. Without hesitation, we went to visit him and asked him if it would be possible to marry us. To our joy, he agreed. His secretary emphasized to us that we had to obtain a certificate in that city and deliver all the documents before noon the next day.
The next day, we moved to the small town and went to the police station to request the required document. To our surprise, the officer said that he would not give it to us because many young couples had been running away from their families to get married secretly in that town, which of course was not our case. Again, fear and sadness overtook us.
I remember how I silently called out to my Heavenly Father so as not to fall. I received a clear impression in my mind, repeatedly saying, “Temple recommend, temple recommend.” I immediately took out my temple recommend and handed it to the officer, to my fiancée’s bewilderment.
What a surprise we had when we heard the officer say, “Why didn’t you tell me that you are from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? I know your church well.” He immediately began to prepare the document. We were even more surprised when the officer left the station without saying anything.
Fifty minutes passed, and he did not return. It was already 11:55 in the morning, and we had only until noon to deliver the papers. Suddenly he appeared with a beautiful puppy and told us it was a wedding gift and gave it to us along with the document.
We ran toward the mayor’s office with our document and our new dog. Then we saw an official vehicle coming toward us. I stopped in front of it. The vehicle stopped, and we saw the secretary inside. Seeing us, she said, “I’m sorry; I told you noon. I must go on another errand.”
I humbled myself in silence, calling with all my heart to my Heavenly Father, asking for help once again to “not fall.” Suddenly, the miracle happened. The secretary said to us, “What a beautiful dog you have. Where could I find one like that for my son?”
“It is for you,” we immediately replied.
The secretary looked at us with surprise and said, “OK, let’s go to the office and make the arrangements.”
Two days later, Carol and I were married civilly, as planned, and then we were sealed in the Lima Peru Temple.

This story happened in the USA.
You broke my truck!
Well, you started it!
Grant broke my truck!
Joey stole my football!
It sounds like you’re both having a problem sharing. Do you want me to solve the problem, or do you want to solve it yourselves?
Joey, wait. Remember what happened last time Dad solved our problem? We couldn’t do anything fun for a whole week.
Fine. We can try to solve it.
Great. I want you to politely talk things over and come up with some ideas for how you can get along better.
I’m sorry I took your football. I just wanted to look at it. I should have asked you first.
I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I’m really sorry I broke your truck. I know it’s your favorite.
Were you able to solve your problem?
I think so.
I’m going to ask for permission before taking things.
And I’m going to buy Joey a new truck. I’m going to be nicer too.
I’m proud of you both for being peacemakers.

While I was serving as a mission president in Bolivia, a wonderful elder came to see me. It was near the end of his mission. He was very depressed.
He spoke to me about the difficult time he had experienced in the Missionary Training Center. While he was there his father had died, and for a brief period the elder had considered returning home. But, encouraged by a loving mother, and spurred on by individual commitment, he continued his training.
He recounted the initial efforts he had made in the mission field to work hard, pray often, follow all the rules—hoping, of course, to be rewarded with hundreds of baptisms. But, unfortunately, the baptisms had not come. Gradually he began to slacken his pace. He felt his prayers were not being heard. The mission rules seemed to be burdensome and restrictive. They were silly things, written by the mission president only to goad and irritate him.
In despair he told me, “I’m nobody! What I do won’t make any difference.” Then, as if searching, he quickly asked, “Will it, President Hammond?” For an instant similar questions passed through my mind. Can he make a difference? Can I? Can anyone? Does it matter what one person does?
Then, in my mind’s eye I saw a myriad of people and events who had made a difference. I reminded him of the work of Copernicus, who revolutionized the science of astronomy; and Mohandas K. Gandhi, who in preaching peace and love, brought freedom to his native India.
There are many men and women who have truly made a difference, I said. I thought for a moment and then continued with the stories of two others.
I placed my hand on the young missionary’s and asked him if he was ready to go back out into the field of labor? I asked if he could make a difference in the lives of the special Bolivian children of our Heavenly Father?
His attitude had changed. With a renewed spirit of dedication, tears slipping down his face, he committed himself once again to the work of the Lord. We knelt in prayer together and I blessed him that he would be able to find the way.
Although he had been weak, I felt an inner confidence in him. I surprised even myself by assigning him to one of the most difficult and remote areas of Bolivia—a small community named Bermejo near the Argentine border. The work had gone badly there for some time, with only a few baptisms to reenforce the handful of Saints who were discouraged and found it hard to keep the faith.
In his weekly reports the missionary told of his diligent efforts to contact the people and preach the gospel to them. He indicated that they were slow to listen, but that he was continuing his faithful stewardship in that part of the Lord’s vineyard.
And then it happened. Overnight a small river that runs near the village, fed by heavy rains in the mountains, rose to a height never before known. Homes were swept away and people were drowned. The only bridge connecting the city to the main road was torn from its footings and washed downstream. There was chaos everywhere.
Two young missionaries were caught in the turmoil. And one, perhaps remembering that “a man can make a difference,” threw himself into the turbulent waters to rescue many who were drowning; he sought those buried beneath fallen buildings; he gave relief to the injured and succor to the hungry.
And a miracle occurred. He became a hero. He was lauded by the newspapers. People mentioned his name with reverence. Those who had previously rejected him and the message that he carried now searched him out. Their doors were opened to receive him. They loved him. They accepted his burning testimony of Jesus Christ and the gospel restored through the prophet Joseph Smith.
In the few months that remained of his mission he brought scores of wonderful people into the Church. Today, a beautiful chapel stands in Bermejo. On the Sabbath day it is full of members who still remember one faithful elder who made a difference.

One family home evening years ago began with our singing, “The day dawn is breaking, the world is awaking” (“The Day Dawn is Breaking,” Hymns, no. 52). When we asked each of our five children to suggest an activity we could do that week, five-year-old Fernando said plaintively, “I want to see what it’s like when the day breaks and the world wakes up.” We tried and tried to explain to him all of the things that happen: how the sun comes up, the morning breezes blow, and the dew glistens on the landscape. But he would have none of it. “I want to see it,” he repeated.
So that Thursday at 4:00 a.m., we got up, piled into our car, and drove to a place with a clear view of the eastern sky. Sunrise that day seemed to come from heaven itself. Circles of yellow color were transformed into a brilliant coral as the great curvature of the sun appeared. It was glorious.
Thirty years later, Fernando’s small son Fernandito was visiting us. “You know what, Grandma?” he said. “Papa took us to see the sunrise.”

At one such time, I sought Heavenly Father’s counsel through constant and heartfelt prayer for more than a year to find the solution to a difficult situation. I knew logically that Heavenly Father answers all sincere prayers. Yet I reached such desperation one day that I attended the temple with one question: “Heavenly Father, do You really care?”
I was sitting near the back of the Logan Utah Temple waiting room when, to my surprise, entering the room that day was the temple president, Vaughn J. Featherstone, a close family friend. He stood at the front of the congregation and welcomed all of us. When he noticed me among the temple patrons, he stopped speaking, looked me in the eyes, and then said, “Brother Brough, it is good to see you in the temple today.”
I will never forget the feeling of that simple moment. It was as if—in that greeting—Heavenly Father was stretching forth His hand and saying, “Here am I.”
Heavenly Father really does care and listen to and answer every child’s prayer.15 As one of His children, I know the answer to my prayers came in the Lord’s time. And through that experience, I understood more than ever that we are children of God and that He has sent us here so that we can feel His presence now and return to live with Him someday.

Many years ago John Burroughs, a naturalist, one summer evening was walking through a crowded park. Above the sounds of city life he heard the song of a bird.
He stopped and listened! Those with him had not heard it. He looked around. No one else had noticed it.
It bothered him that everyone should miss something so beautiful.
He took a coin from his pocket and flipped it into the air. It struck the pavement with a ring, no louder than the song of the bird. Everyone turned; they could hear that!
It is difficult to separate from all the sounds of city traffic the song of a bird. But you can hear it. You can hear it plainly if you train yourself to listen for it.

“A few years ago when I was in junior high school, a lot of talk was going around about anti-Mormon literature, especially a certain account of Joseph Smith’s life. My mother, a convert to the Church, reads a great deal of Church literature and has a deep and sincere testimony of the gospel. I knew that she had purchased that particular book some time before and had read it at least in part.
“Convinced that absolutely nothing could shake my testimony, I asked her if I could read it too. She gave me a very final no. Indignantly I asked why. She then explained to me that my testimony and understanding of the gospel, although good, were not strong enough or great enough not to be shaken by that sort of literature. She told me that when I gained a greater knowledge and understanding of the gospel, I could read it and see the flaws in it, and that until then it would be better if I read pro-Church literature to build my knowledge so that when I was faced with anti-Mormon views I would have answers rather than questions.
“I followed her advice and have gained a far greater testimony than I thought possible then. I have now read part of that book along with other anti-Mormon literature, and I can see that a few years ago that sort of thing might have been very damaging to my tender and growing testimony. Perhaps not, but I am sincerely thankful I didn’t take that chance.
“When discussing this with my mother recently, she made this statement: ‘We never need to be afraid to read anything, but we need to be better prepared to read some things.’ Sometimes it’s astonishing what good counsel parents can give us.”
Toni KuttlerPocatello, Idaho

In August of 2020, President Alan L. Fisher and Sister Elizabeth H. Fisher, the mission president and his companion, gathered all the missionaries in the Barbados Bridgetown Mission together in Barbados. President and Sister Fisher recalled, “We loved working with these sisters and having the opportunity of becoming very close to them during the pandemic. We believe the Lord wanted them to have this experience, learn these lessons, and have an opportunity to develop relationships with each other and their mission leaders in a way that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. One of the tender mercies we experienced was sharing in the ordinance of the sacrament with them in their apartment. We prayed, sang, and shared scriptures from the Book of Mormon. This repeated connection together brought a bond of love and strength between us and between these sweet missionaries and the Lord. He lifted them and was a constant sustaining influence.”

Phan Phon and his wife make sure they teach the gospel to their grandchildren. The gospel of Jesus Christ helped their family move forward after the tragedy of losing their home in a fire.
When Phan’s home caught on fire, he could only save his three grandchildren. Everything else burned to the ground. Phan was angry at the neighbor who caused the fire. When his anger spread to his family and neighbors, Phan knew he needed to forgive.
Leslie Nilsson, photographer
The first time I heard the explosion, I asked my wife, “What is that sound?”
She said, “Maybe the neighbor is burning something.”
Then I heard a second explosion. Someone next door told me, “There’s a house burning behind your house!”
We went to get some water, but we couldn’t put the fire out. The fire spread to my house. I ran in the house to get my three grandchildren. Smoke was coming through the windows, but I didn’t think about anything besides my grandchildren. They are the most important thing to me. I left everything else inside.
We got out and all we could do was watch the house burn. Firefighters did not arrive in time because the road to our house was too small. My house was old, and it burned quickly. I stood with my wife and grandchildren and watched it burn.
After the house burned down, I felt hopeless. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know what to do to find a new place to live. The day after the fire, we knelt to pray and asked the Lord to show us the way and bless us to be able to find a new home. I was weeping while praying to the Lord, but I trusted that He would help me.
At first, I was mad at the neighbor who caused the fire. I wanted him to pay for what had happened. My family and the neighbors affected by the fire were also mad and wanted to send a letter to the government to make the person who caused the fire legally responsible for what happened. They asked me to sign the letter, but I didn’t want to.
I realized that my neighbor was poor like me. He didn’t intend to start the fire. If I made him pay, he would be in trouble, and I would still feel hatred. I remembered the word of the Lord that we should love our neighbor. I felt that I should forgive.
When I decided to forgive, I felt peace.
I told everyone affected by the fire that I wanted to forgive. Except for one family, everyone decided to do the same thing. They wouldn’t make him accountable for what happened.
My neighbor was happy I forgave him. My family is more happy too. When I see this, I am also happy.
Members and neighbors contributed what they could to help my family. I received a lot of rice and shared it with others. They asked me why I give when I’m in a bad situation. I tell them when I serve others, I serve the Lord. I want to give to Him because He made many miracles happen in my life. We have a beautiful home, better than the one that burned down.
Phan’s anger toward the neighbor who caused the fire was replaced with peace when he remembered the word of the Lord. Phan is grateful for the guidance he receives from the scriptures.
As his home burned down, Phan could only think about his grandchildren. Phan loves his family. “They are the most important thing to me,” he says.

What do rabbits, postage stamps, and children’s music have in common? They are some of the things that have helped nine-year-old David Whitworth to save for his mission.
For nearly two years David raised Harry, then Jule, two Angora rabbits. Angoras need their loose fur plucked frequently, and David plucked the soft, fine fur and sent it to his grandmother in New Mexico. She paid David for the fur, which she combined with wool on her spinning wheel to make soft yarn for knitting.
He saved most of his rabbit money in a special missionary bank that his Uncle Tim made for him one Christmas. The bank looks like a brown leather book, and it sits on the bookshelf; but it is really made of wood and is hollow.
Although Harry and Jule died recently, David plans to get more Angora rabbits as soon as possible. Meanwhile, the savings in his missionary bank grows. Before the family’s recent move from California to Kentucky, his older sisters, Erin (16), Shaunda (14), and Katie (12), paid him for helping them deliver newspapers on their five routes. Now he gets paid for helping his parents in two small businesses that they run from their home. He helps his dad put postage stamps in vending machines, and he helps his mom with office work, booths, and workshops in her business of selling children’s music.
Besides saving money, David prepares in other ways for his future mission. He is learning to be responsible and dependable. He can cook a whole meal when asked, is learning to sew, and takes his turn at washing dishes and other household chores. He can even change the diapers on his two-year-old sister, Maryvonne!
Missionaries do not sleep in late, and David has learned to get up early: On school days, the family is usually awake by 6:00 A.M. so that everyone can eat, dress, have prayers, and read the scriptures before the bus comes at 7:15. During the summer, they get up at 6:00 A.M. to help in the family’s large garden for an hour before Dad leaves to work in nearby Lexington.
David is also following the prophet’s counsel to learn a second language. In California, David was in a bilingual classroom. At his Kentucky school, his mother teaches Spanish twice a week to David’s class and to the classes his brothers, Josiah (5), and Jonathan (7), are in.
David works hard in school. He is a member of his school’s Academic Team, which competes with teams from other schools to give the fastest correct answers to questions on many subjects. And for a special school project, he recently typed and illustrated a science fiction book that he wrote called “Survival in Z-P.”
David also has plenty of time for just having fun. He likes quiet activities like reading, drawing, and chess. And he enjoys basketball, baseball, tennis, swimming, Cub Scouts, and exploring the small woods around a clubhouse built in the hollow behind the family home.
If you ask David what he wants to be when he grows up, he’s likely to answer, “A missionary, a dad, an artist, a baseball player, and a cartoonist—maybe.”

The missionary bearing his testimony was on crutches; he had injured his knee in a bicycle accident. He wanted to tell the other missionaries how much he loved his companion, to tell them how he had learned of a new dimension in love from this companion. Two or three weeks earlier he had been in an accident. The doctor had said he couldn’t ride his bike anymore and must stay off his leg. The mission president had decided to transfer him so his companion could keep on working. What good could he do when he couldn’t even ride a bicycle? His companion pleaded with the mission president not to break up the partnership yet. They were having success. He loved his incapacitated companion. They would find a way. “Please let us try!” he said. The mission president agreed to let them make the attempt.

Then the elder on crutches told us how they had solved their problem. He said his companion had connected their two bikes with a rope, and had pulled him all over the city for two weeks as they did their work. He said he had really learned what it was like for one man to love another.

One hundred and twenty-six years later a group of young Latter-day Saints came toiling up the same hill on a zigzag path, raising no dust because the earth was hard-packed. The pastoral beauty of the hill was sadly diminished by urban encroachment, but the view from the top was much the same as when Elder Pratt described in his journal “farms, orchards, vineyards, town, streets, river, and water ditches, fertile as Eden and stretching away till lost in the dim distance; or bounded by lofty hills and mountain chains, whose lower swells are checkered with fences and houses, and covered with flocks and herds, while their bosoms are rugged with rocky precipices, and checkered by dark ravines, or mantled with clouds; while the rugged summits repose in solemn grandeur in the bosom of the clear blue sky.”

The young members from Quillota found a patch of grass and flowers recalling the hill’s original charm and sat down to share their testimonies.

“The gospel is the most important thing ever to come to Chile,” 15-year-old Roberto said, looking out toward the valley-rimming hills and the pale afternoon moon. “It is the most important influence in my life. It is the true word of God and the only thing on earth that will lead to true happiness. Every young person in the world can know that the gospel is true and that the Father and Jesus Christ live.”

Seventeen-year-old Oscar agreed. “I know that if we continue to progress we can be with our Heavenly Father again. I know that by working hard here in our beautiful Quillota and all of Chile we can achieve anything we truly have faith that we can.”

There is yet another gift some of you may want to give that takes starting early. I saw it started once when I was a bishop. A young man sat across my desk from me. He talked about mistakes he had made. And he talked about how much he wanted the children he might have someday to have a dad who could use his priesthood and to whom they could be sealed forever. He said he knew that the price and pain of repentance might be great. And then he said something I will not forget: “Bishop, I am coming back. I will do whatever it takes. I am coming back.” He felt sorrow. And he had faith in Christ. And still it took months of painful effort.

And so somewhere there is a family with a righteous priesthood bearer at its head. They have eternal hopes and peace on earth. He’ll probably give his family all sorts of gifts wrapped brightly, but nothing will matter quite so much as the one he started a long time ago in my office and has never stopped giving. He felt then the needs of children he had only dreamed of, and he gave early and freely. He sacrificed his pride and sloth and numbed feelings. I am sure it doesn’t seem like sacrifice now.

“An image that will forever live in my memory took place during the October 2022 general conference. I had the privilege of sitting almost directly behind the pulpit. This gave me a unique vantage point to look out and watch as words from the speakers were reflected on the faces of those listening.
“At the end of the Sunday afternoon session, our beloved prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, was speaking, and it was obvious that every single person in the Conference Center was riveted by him. Then all of the sudden, almost as if orchestrated by a conductor, half of the congregation turned their view upward and to the right, while the other half tuned their view upward and to the left.
“It was an unsettling feeling at first to see that no one was looking at the prophet anymore. Why? Because he had directed their attention toward two large screens depicting Jesus Christ’s visit to ancient America. He had directed their vision to Jesus Christ!
“The profound significance of this image was not lost on me. The role of a prophet, seer, and revelator is always to direct our vision upward, to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
“I testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is Jesus Christ’s Church, and President Russell M. Nelson is Jesus Christ’s prophet. Follow the prophet; He knows the way!”

After finishing my studies in technical administration, I worked with a young executive who later became my husband. What a marvelous time of my life it was! But one month after our wedding, as my husband and I were traveling from Bogotá, Colombia, where we lived, to visit my parents in Duitama, we were involved in an automobile accident. The accident took my husband’s life and left me with amnesia. I couldn’t remember anything of the previous six years, couldn’t walk, and couldn’t move my left arm.
After months of physical therapy, I was finally able to walk again and move my arm somewhat. Gradually, my memory returned to the point that six years after the accident I could recall the events of my life except for two years: the one preceding the accident and the one following it. Still, my previous capabilities were much diminished. I had trouble converting my thoughts into words, and I found it difficult to repeat something after hearing it. Because I easily forgot details, some people took advantage of my lapses.
Eventually, the doctors felt they had done all they could. I tried to appear happy and enthusiastic, but I often felt frustrated and angry. What was I to do with my life?
When I was at my lowest point, I read in the scriptures where the Lord promises that we will not be tried above that which we can bear (see 1 Cor. 10:13; D&C 64:20). I prayed for a testimony of this promise.
I finally returned to the company where I had worked before the accident. Since I could not handle my old job, I worked at less demanding assignments—but even these tasks proved difficult. Nevertheless, I didn’t give up. I fought to complete my six-month contract. As I did, a marvelous feeling of hope illuminated my spirit, inspiring me to keep trying to improve my capabilities.
By staying close to the Lord, I reestablished confidence in myself and could feel the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life. This influence soon led me to consider serving a mission. I know some people thought my desire foolish, but when I spoke with the branch president, he gave me the courage I needed. To prepare myself, I decided to read the Book of Mormon in its entirety—something I had not yet accomplished in my 12 years as a member.
However, my poor memory posed a real challenge. After starting with 1 Nephi at least 10 times and not being able to remember a thing I had read, I knew I needed a different approach. I prayed to find a solution, and soon a method entered my mind: I would write a summary of each chapter as I read it.
I bought a notebook and read the first chapter of 1 Nephi. Since I had only a vague idea of what I had just read, I read the chapter again. Only then was I able to summarize in my notebook the main ideas in that chapter.
Prayerfully, I moved on. After completing 1 Nephi, I found I no longer had to read each chapter twice; once was enough to write a good summary. I read the entire Book of Mormon this way. When I finished, I was left with a strong spiritual witness that the book is true, and I could also testify that the Lord strengthens us if we turn to Him.
I next completed the missionary health form, and I answered each question honestly, even though the answers could frustrate my desire to be a missionary. How great was my joy when I received a call to serve in the Colombia Cali Mission! There I discovered the truth of another of the Lord’s promises, found in 1 Nephi 3:7: “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.”
After I returned from my mission, I came to live with my parents on a farm where we grow products to sell. I have also developed a talent for knitting, which allows me to earn money and leaves me time for spiritual growth. I live a happy and productive life.
Of course, I would have preferred not to have had the accident, but I recognize the tremendous growth I have experienced because of it. I’ve learned that we may lose our dreams and hopes, even our loved ones, and our talents, riches, and strength might disappear—but the Lord will always support us. He gives us new dreams to replace those we have lost. In spite of all the difficulties we encounter, the Lord can help us move forward. He compensates—and He always keeps His promises.

Salt Lake City, Utah—When the Social Hall was completed, in 1852, Christmas was celebrated there with dancing parties, both for the adults and the children. Our girls and boys will never forget the first Christmas tree there where there was a present for every child of several large families, and all numbered and arranged in perfect order of name and age. President Young—Brother Brigham—was foremost in making the affair a grand success. Hon. John W. Young, then only a boy, handed the presents down from the tree, and I recollect Brother Brigham standing and pointing with his cane, and telling John just which to take down, and so on; the children were wild with delight and some of the mothers quite as much elated, though not as demonstrative. After the Santa Claus tree was stripped of its gifts, the floor was cleared and the dancing commenced, and there was good music too, and President Young led the dance, and “cut a pigeon wing,” to the great delight of the little folks. In fact, I think the evening was almost entirely given up to the children’s festivities, and the older ones, the fathers and mothers and more especially President Young, made them supremely happy for that one Christmas eve.
Adapted from Emmeline B. Wells, Young Women’s Journal, 12 (1901): 539–42

Roger Randrianarison knew something was missing from his family’s life.
“I prayed to God to help me find something to lead my family,” he said. “I had a desire to lead my family in something good, something that would lead to the right path.”
He was concerned about how to raise his three children—sons, Randrianandry and Sedinirina, and daughter, Nirina. He was unhappy that his short temper had led to challenges in the family. He wanted to be a kinder parent.
“I decided I was the one who had to change because I saw who I had become,” he said.
Roger had lost his construction business a few years earlier and was working as a taxi driver in Antananarivo, Madagascar. One day he picked up two sister missionaries.
“Once they were in the car, they asked me my name and if I had a family,” he said. “They asked if I knew who God was and if I prayed to Him.”
The missionaries sang songs with Roger during the ride and invited him to church. He tried to go a few times but never could work the meetings into his schedule, and he lost contact with the missionaries.
About five months later Roger was working at home one day when he heard two missionaries talking to someone outside his fence. Roger knew they would come talk to him. He felt like he should answer yes to whatever questions they would ask him.
After introducing themselves, the missionaries asked him if he knew about God. Yes. Did he want to pray to God? Yes. Did he want to talk to the missionaries? Yes. When? Now. The missionaries said they would return in 20 minutes. When they came back, they had a member with them who lived nearby.
The missionaries taught Roger many times for a month in his home. Because of what they had heard about the Church, the rest of his family didn’t want to study with the missionaries. After a month of learning about the gospel, Roger went to church with the missionaries. The kind reception he experienced left an impression on him. “The members received me like they had already known me for a very long time,” he said.
Roger went home from church and told his family that he was going to be baptized in a month and that they were free to choose to join the Church or not. They asked him to wait so that they could join him. They started attending meetings and were also pleasantly surprised.
The first time he attended Church meetings left a lasting impression on Roger’s oldest son, Randrianandry. “The first time I came to church I was so surprised because the people were so humble,” he said. “First, they were properly dressed for church. After that I realized they were really there for a purpose, not just to show off for other people.”
The Randrianarisons were baptized as a family on February 20, 2003. At the time Nirina was 8, Sedinirina was 17, and Randrianandry was 19. The family stopped working on Sundays and made living the gospel a priority.
“After I got baptized, I saw a lot of changes in our home,” said Arelina, Roger’s wife. “It became a spiritual home, and so many blessings, both temporal and spiritual, came from living the gospel.”
From a temporal perspective, Roger credits Heavenly Father with helping him rebuild his business. After two years of driving a taxi and doing whatever he could to provide for his family, he started receiving construction contracts. “I believe that God always blesses me when I decide to follow Him,” he said.
But his sons say the biggest change they have seen is in their father’s temperament. They describe him now as an example of humility and kindness. Roger said the gospel convinced him that he had to change. Since he began studying it, Roger has tried to fill his life with good things.
“Because of the teachings of the gospel, I never lose my temper,” he said. “Sometimes there are provocations, but the gospel is in my heart, in my head, and in my spirit. It helps me stay calm.”
When upsetting situations arise, Roger is the one who calms down family members and reminds them to act as the Savior would.
“My father became humble and now cares for our family with love,” Sedinirina said. “When I look at the change in him, I’m so grateful for Heavenly Father, for the gospel, and for being members of the Church.”
In 2006, with the help of the General Temple Patron Assistance Fund, Roger and Arelina went to Johannesburg, South Africa, to be sealed in the temple.
From 2009 to 2011, Sedinirina and Randrianandry served missions to South Africa—Sedinirina in Cape Town and Randrianandry in Johannesburg. Part of their motivation to serve was to help other families change, just as their family had.
“A miracle like this can happen, and it happened because missionaries came to our house,” Randrianandry said. “So I had the desire to do the very same thing for a family somewhere.”
That decision brought another blessing to the Randrianarison family. There was a nine-day period when both Sedinirina and Randrianandry would be in the Johannesburg Missionary Training Center. Roger arranged to fly to South Africa with Arelina and their daughter, Nirina, so the entire family could be sealed in the temple. Nirina, who was 14 at the time, said it’s difficult to describe the experience and what she felt.
“It strengthened my faith and helped me feel closer to God,” she said.
Today the family members work to build and strengthen those around them. Roger serves as the bishop of his ward. Arelina works in the Primary with the Faith in God program. Sedinirina is an assistant stake clerk. Randrianandry is an assistant ward clerk. Nirina is the ward music director.
The gospel has been an answer to prayers in the Randrianarison home. It has healed old hurts, brought them closer, and given them the opportunity to be together forever. It has taught Roger to love. “Family life,” he said, “is a life full of love.”