Gospel Story Finder

This brings me to my second “ship,” or relationship: courtship. Friendship should play a key role in courtship and marriage. I see friendship as the foundation in the courtship pyramid. A little story will help to illustrate this point.
It is the story of Isaac and Rebecca. This is not the biblical account, however. It is about our daughter Rebecca and her suitor Isaac. Our Rebecca was not persuaded to marry her Isaac nearly as easily as was the Old Testament Rebekah. Nor was she readily willing to give up her lifestyle and immediately leave her family to be part of another’s life.
Our Becky was 21. She had signed up to do a summer internship through Brigham Young University in Mozambique, Africa. She wasn’t sure if she should serve a mission, but she had at least started the paperwork by getting dental and doctor appointments. She was also thinking about applying for a master’s program in her field. In short, she was trying to decide what to do with the next phase of her life. We all wondered which would win out of the three Ms—Mozambique, mission, or master’s.
Meanwhile, Isaac came along in pursuit and soon offered a choice of a fourth M—marriage. He was headed for medical school in a few months, and he did not want to go without Becky. He later told us that he had his own three Ms that he hoped she would choose—marriage, medical school, and eventually motherhood. “If she did not,” he said, “I knew I would be the fourth M—miserable.”
Becky was a woman of the 21st century. The world and its many glamorous opportunities were available to her, and it was hard for her to set aside some of her dreams. What finally won her over were Isaac’s intrinsic goodness and his kindness to her. He did the romantic things too, like sending beautiful bouquets of flowers, taking her on nice dates, and so on.
But those things would not have won her over on their own. What was most winning to her was how he continually put her feelings and her needs above his own. He did little thoughtful things, the kind that one friend would do for another. For example, when he learned that her watch was too big for her wrist, he removed a couple of links from it and made it perfect for her. Another time she found her car spotless and sparkling inside and out because he had washed it, a deed unsolicited by her. Another time she found a little list he had made of ways to improve himself; many of his goals were service oriented. These kindnesses promised an enduring friendship; they expressed qualities of character that would last even when physical beauties eventually faded.
Becky realized that he had the qualities that would endure through good and bad times, the very qualities she would seek out in a good friend. So she did marry Isaac. And now she reflects that she was right about his great strengths being a wonderful asset to their relationship. She feels she is married to her best friend. And this is what marriage should be.

That was not the end of the Lord’s blessings to me. At the end of their senior year, all dental students have to take practical tests—performing procedures on patients while professors watch and grade their performance. If you don’t do well on these practical tests, you don’t graduate. In the early winter of my senior year, I slipped on a patch of ice and broke my right arm. Immediately I felt grateful that it was only January, assuming the cast would come off in six weeks. But I was informed I had broken the scaphoid in my wrist, one of the most difficult bones to heal. I would be in a cast for six months. In despair, I realized I couldn’t work on patients with a cast on my right arm.
I asked for a priesthood blessing. In that blessing I was told not to fear, all would be well. After some weeks I discovered that my fingers were perfectly agile, even with the cast on. When I arrived at the testing area, the professors shook their heads, insisting there was no possibility I could perform the necessary procedures. I asked them to let me try, and if they were not satisfied I would withdraw. Each patient looked surprised upon seeing my cast, but I was able to perform the procedures to the complete approval of the examining professors. I graduated in the top of my class.

I was baptised on 26 September 2004. I know for sure from that week onwards I was regular to the church. Both my daughters, Annie and Jenny, and I did our best in all our callings.
After few years of our membership in the Church, we had to move to Tirupur due to my daughter’s job and there was no branch in the town. We used to make two and a half hours trips by train to Coimbatore or Semmedu to attend sacrament meeting. My husband had an accident and time made it very difficult for us to attend church regularly.
We still kept our faith, prayed both personally and as family. We prayed and fasted for a branch in our town. It was three long years without sacrament, no gospel had been taught, no missionaries, no people then to visit. This filled us with unhappiness and heavy hearts. Our material blessings kept us alive but still our souls were always hungry and thirsty for spiritual food and comfort.
To our surprise and wonder it was announced that there is going to be a home group in our town. I felt so happy and my soul rejoiced.
It was a fast Sunday and we were about 70 members, each of us testified how merciful and mindful the Lord was of His children. Now, our life is blessed. Now our generations will grow in the Church, follow Christ and hold on to the iron rod as we follow the principle of obedience. I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church on this earth. The Book of Mormon is a true word of God. I know President Nelson is called of God.

I have a testimony of those words and what comfort they give. Four years ago, when I found myself quite suddenly a widow with the youngest of my five children leaving for a mission, I felt alone. I did a lot of walking at that time, and one day I told a neighbor I found myself thinking about youth. She said, “Really? I wonder why?” I concluded that perhaps I was trying to remember who I was before I was married. I said, “If I ever have a chance to work with young people again, I will be so much more patient, so much more gentle, and so much more loving.” And I have since added, “I will do all in my power to encourage young people to prepare for the future.”

I have a 12-year-old brother named Carson, and he knows how to save his money. He pays tithing on everything he earns, and the rest goes straight to savings. Our family had been planning on leaving for a vacation at the end of January, and Carson had saved every dime for a year.
At the time the tsunami hit Indonesia last December, we watched the news night after night and saw the death toll mount. We prayed for the people who were suffering. It was hard for us to imagine the damage done by the tsunami when we have never experienced that kind of disaster, but my brother, Carson, brought a lesson about this tragedy close to home.
The Sunday after the tsunami, our bishop said that extra fast offerings for the Asian countries would be greatly appreciated. As soon as we got home from church that day, Carson ran to his room and got the money that he had been saving so carefully. He had saved over $200! He came downstairs, grabbed a tithing slip, and began filling it out. My mom saw what was happening and broke down in tears. Soon the whole family surrounded our 12-year-old brother to watch him give away every nickel of his vacation money to fast offerings. Carson showed us all that the Lord comes first.

Mary Elizabeth breathed deeply as she walked down the streets of Independence. Though she missed her uncle’s store in Kirtland, she admired his new red brick store on the corner of two of the widest, loveliest streets in Independence. She enjoyed the excitement of building up Zion.
After a few months in Independence, Mary Elizabeth felt lucky when a man named Mr. Boggs hired her to work as a seamstress. She was only 14 years old, and the extra money she earned would be a blessing for her family. And besides, she liked to sew! The Boggs family lived just a short distance away from Mary Elizabeth’s new home. Mr. Boggs had just been elected to an important political position in the state of Missouri, and he needed new clothes for official occasions. One of Mary Elizabeth’s assignments was to sew Mr. Boggs’s shirt collars.
Mary Elizabeth liked the Boggs family with their many children. She was especially fond of one of the little girls. The Boggs family liked her too. Often Mrs. Boggs sewed with Mary Elizabeth for hours at a time.
One day Mrs. Boggs asked, “Mary Elizabeth, you know we are not Mormons as you are, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Boggs,” Mary Elizabeth said.
“Mary Elizabeth, your church is wrong,” Mrs. Boggs said. “Being a Mormon will only bring you pain and disappointment.”
Mary Elizabeth sat silently.
“I have spoken with my husband,” Mrs. Boggs went on. “We like you. My husband has power and money, more than your people do. We want to take you in as one of our own. We will provide for you and educate you. You will be one of us.” Mrs. Boggs smiled hopefully.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Boggs, but I cannot abandon my faith or my people,” Mary Elizabeth said. “But thank you for your kindness to me.”
A few months later, things indeed became more painful for the Saints in Missouri. Mobs were starting to attack more frequently. They were even destroying crops and buildings.
One day Mary Elizabeth and her younger sister Caroline were near Brother Phelps’s printing office when a mob began destroying the press and dumping large piles of printed paper out the window. Mary Elizabeth recognized the paper right away. The men were destroying the Book of Commandments!
“Caroline, we must save those papers,” Mary Elizabeth whispered. “Follow me.”
“They will kill us,” Caroline said. “But I will come.”
Waiting until the men had turned away from the girls, each sister grabbed a large armful of papers and began running toward a cornfield. The men saw the girls and began to chase them, yelling at them to stop. The girls ran into the tall corn, laid the papers on the ground, and lay on top of them to protect them. The sisters could hear the men crashing through the corn stalks nearby. Mary Elizabeth and Caroline’s hearts pounded, but to their relief, the girls were not found.
After waiting in the corn for a long time, the sisters carried the papers back to the printing office. They were grateful to be safe and that they had helped the Lord’s work.

My companion’s shoes had worn out, and as a result of our street contacting, his foot had developed many blisters. One day we had to return to the house early for lunch to change his shoes. When we left our house after lunch that day, I expected that we would walk to an area nearby because of his blistered foot. But instead my companion felt impressed to tract in a distant area.

As we were walking along a riverbank, a woman and several children ran toward us. The woman screamed, “Please help! My child is drowning!” He had fallen into the river, and they were not able to find him because the water was so muddy. We watched the river for a few minutes and finally saw something floating on the water. My companion dived into the dirty water and was able to catch the child and pull him out. The child’s lips had lost their color, he wasn’t breathing, and he appeared dead.

Our attempts to revive him had no effect. When at last the paramedics arrived and tried resuscitating him, the child finally threw up some water and started breathing again. By then many people surrounded us, and when they saw him breathing, they were moved to tears.

This experience was a great lesson for me. The Lord taught me that missionaries do for people’s spirits the same thing my companion had done for this boy physically. It was our calling to save people spiritually.

Claire was a sad hippopotamus, for today was the day of the jungle talent show. All of Claire’s jungle friends were going to be in it—but not Claire.

Claire had no special talent. She didn’t dance. She didn’t sing. She didn’t juggle fruits, do somersaults, or play the drums. And she didn’t know any funny stories to tell. She was just a plain, ordinary hippopotamus.

“Oh, coconuts,” Claire sighed. “There must be something I can do.”

Then Claire had an idea. She went to visit Madame Gazelle’s Dancing School. “Will you teach me to dance?” Claire asked.

“I’ll try,” replied Madame Gazelle.

Claire put on a pair of pink dancing shoes. She learned to turn and curtsey. She leaped gracefully into the air. But when Claire landed, the jungle shook. Monkeys and bananas rained from the trees, mice bounced high into the sky, and everyone complained about the shaking jungle.

Claire did not want to make her friends angry, so she gave up dancing. She went to see Hester Elephant, who was famous for her singing. “Can you teach me to sing?” Claire asked.

“Of course I can,” Hester answered. “Listen.” She raised her trunk and sang “Mary had a little elephant. …” She had a lovely voice. “Now it’s your turn,” said Hester.

Claire roared, “Mary had a little hippopotamus …” as loud as she could. Her jungle friends had to cover their ears. She scared Lonnie Python right out of his tree house.

“This will never do!” Hester cried.

So Claire went to see the Great Chimpanzees. They had the best trapeze act in the jungle. “Please teach me to swing from tree to tree,” begged Claire.

“Sure,” agreed Bimbo Chimpanzee. “But first you must climb a tree like this.” He scurried to the top of a tall tree and waved to Claire. Claire struggled up the tree after Bimbo. The tree began to bend.

“TIMBER!” shouted the Great Chimpanzees who were on the ground. The tree and Claire and Bimbo fell with a crash. The Great Chimpanzees were happy that Claire did not fall on them. But Claire was not happy at all.

“I’ll never be a part of the show,” she cried.

“I’ll teach you to catch rings on your nose,” offered Walter Rhinoceros.

“But I don’t have a horn like you do,” Claire protested.

“Oh,” said Walter, “I forgot.”

“I’ll teach you to juggle rocks,” suggested Randy Baboon.

“Wonderful!” said Claire. She tossed two rocks into the air.

“Ouch!” They hit Randy on top of his head. He went home to have it mended.

“I know a funny joke,” laughed Smiley Hyena, “but I need it for the show. I wish I had another one for you, Claire.”

Tara Tiger tried to teach Claire to play a harmonica. But Claire swallowed it by mistake.

“Who needs a talent show anyway?” she huffed. “I’m going swimming.” All afternoon Claire swam around the lake. When she was tired, she took a long, long nap in the water. Voices woke her up.

“Claire! Claire!” the voices called.

Claire opened her eyes. Her jungle friends stood on the shore. They were wearing their talent show costumes. “Claire!” called Madame Gazelle. “We need you.”

“Me?” said Claire. She swam to shore.

“We have a terrible problem,” said Hester. “You are the only one who can help.”

“What can I do?” sighed Claire.

“Because we’re all in the show,” Bimbo explained, “there’s no one to watch us. So we have no judge to choose the winner.”

“Oh, I can do that!” cried Claire. So Claire sat in the very first row. She clapped as loud as she could. She cheered. She whistled and stamped her feet. “Hooray! Bravo! Encore!” she shouted. “More! More! More!”

When the show was over, Claire clapped so long that everyone took ten bows. “You were all so good,” said Claire, “I can’t decide who the winner is—”

“The winner,” announced Tara Tiger, “is Claire Hippopotamus.”

“Me!” exclaimed Claire. “I wasn’t part of the show.”

“Yes, you were,” said Lonnie Python. “You were the best audience a talent show ever had.”

Everyone clapped for Claire. She made a curtsey. Then she took her basket-of-fruit prize and went home—a happy hippopotamus.

In her sophomore year, Julie was allowed to attend a missionary zone conference. The Spirit inspired her to accept the challenge from President Ezra Taft Benson to read the Book of Mormon a half hour a day.
“I set a certain time to study and wouldn’t let anything get in the way. I asked Heavenly Father to help me understand and apply the Book of Mormon in my everyday life.” Julie decided to accept another challenge and “flood the earth” with the Book of Mormon. She set a goal to give one away each week.
A few days later as she rode the bus to a track meet, she talked to a few of the team members. One of them asked, “Well, Julie, what do you believe?” Others turned and started listening.
“The Holy Ghost whispered scriptures I’d learned in seminary. I think they were surprised at how well Mormons are taught the scriptures. From that conversation the Lord helped me to give away four books,” she said.

“I picked the first name that popped into my head—my best friend, Jill. She knows I’m a Latter-day Saint, and she’s been to several Primary activities with me. I knew that she wouldn’t laugh or tease me if I talked about religion.
“The best plan, I figured, was to discuss the Church whenever I could, wherever we were, whatever we did. At first it was hard, and I racked my brain for ideas. But pretty soon I could relate anything to the gospel.
“At the swimming pool I told her that Latter-day Saints believe that our bodies are temples, that we should take care of them and keep them fit.
“After Mixed Chorus, I said, ‘This reminds me of singing for stake conference. We did a special number on the Book of Mormon. Have I told you about the Book of Mormon yet?’
“Yesterday Jill called and asked if she could come over and talk to me. I was really excited. I was sure she wanted to learn more about the Church. Instead, Jill said, ‘Thea, you’re definitely going overboard with all this Mormonism stuff.’
“I was shocked! ‘I-I’m just hoping to interest you so that you’ll want to be baptized,’ I said.
“Jill shook her head. ‘I like you, Thea, but I’m perfectly happy in my own church and I don’t want to change. Not now, anyway. You believe what you believe and let me do the same, OK?’
“‘OK,’ I agreed.
“‘Fine. Hey, let’s bike down to the creek.’
“I’m glad Jill’s still my friend. I guess I was a little too pushy.”
“People who are satisfied with their own religion are often difficult to convert,” Sister Searle said. “But if Jill ever does have questions, she’ll know whom to ask.”

I recently had the opportunity to minister to a widowed sister named Franca Calamassi, who is suffering from a debilitating illness. Sister Calamassi was the first member of her family to join the restored Church of Jesus Christ. Although her husband was never baptized, he consented to meet with the missionaries and often attended Church meetings. Despite these circumstances, Sister Calamassi remained faithful and raised her four children in the gospel of Jesus Christ. A year following her husband’s passing, Sister Calamassi took her children to the temple, and they participated in sacred ordinances and were sealed together as a family. The promises associated with these ordinances brought her much hope, joy, and happiness that helped her carry on in life.

When the first symptoms of the disease began to appear, her bishop gave her a blessing. At that time she told her bishop that she was ready to accept the Lord’s will, expressing her faith to be healed as well as her faith to endure her illness to the end.

During my visit, while holding Sister Calamassi’s hand and looking into her eyes, I saw an angelic glow emanating from her countenance—reflecting her confidence in God’s plan and her perfect brightness of hope in the Father’s love and plan for her.25 I felt her firm determination to endure in her faith until the end by taking up her cross, despite the challenges she was facing. This sister’s life is a testimony of Christ, a statement of her faith and devotion to Him.

In 1972 a couple and their six children were sealed in the temple. “I’ve never seen my mom and dad so happy as the day we went into the temple as a family. That day of joy was the culmination of more than twenty years of effort,” one daughter recalls. The wife explains: “I grew up in a strong LDS family but married a nonmember, thinking I could convert him. He joined the Church in 1953, but I learned before too long that he had done it just to get me to stop nagging him. He even started smoking and drinking after baptism, and he had never done either of those before. I guess I nagged him a lot in those years. I would self-righteously take the children to church and then come home and quarrel with him because he hadn’t gone too.”

What finally made the change? “I prayed so hard those years that I never took time to listen to the Lord’s answer. And when I heard it I ignored it. But finally I was so desperate that I felt I had no other choice than to do it His way: ‘You have to love him in,’ the Spirit would whisper to me. ‘Let him go at his own pace.’ So finally I did it and before too long we were at the temple.”

At the same time, the Lord was reaching out to this man in other ways. His colleagues at work had begun to ridicule Joseph Smith, and he felt he had to know if the things they were saying were true. If they were, he would leave the Church. “I started to read the Book of Mormon. I had never really tried to understand it before. It was a marvelous experience. And I learned how to defend the Church to the men at work and that it was defensible. I got so I really thirsted to know the truth. I went back to church. And all the while I was amazed at the quiet support my wife was giving me. Instead of nagging, instead of saying, ‘I told you so,’ like she once would have done when I started to go back, she simply took my hand and said she wanted to help me do whatever would make me happiest.”

Study and church attendance—even a thoughtful testimony borne on a fast Sunday—were followed by a review of the missionary discussions, giving up drinking, and having a difficult struggle to stop smoking. “I thought it would be easy for me to quit smoking, even though I had smoked for seven years—because I generally have good will power. But I tried and tried to quit and I couldn’t. Every time I definitely decided to quit, something would happen, and suddenly I would find myself with a cigarette in my hand and smoke coming out of my mouth. I had heard stories about the Lord taking the desire away from people when they sought him in prayer, but that didn’t work for me. Maybe I didn’t have strong enough faith, or maybe he wanted me to grow more from the struggle. I just knew that I couldn’t quit. Finally I went to the Lord in prayer and committed myself to him that I would never smoke again, even if it was difficult. It wasn’t easy—in fact, even now when I smell tobacco I have an urge to smoke again—but from that moment to this I have never broken my covenant.”

“I don’t think all these things would have happened if we hadn’t made a plan. Our home teachers taught us that the best thing we could do was to set specific goals for what we would have to do in our lives before we could go to the temple, and then of course to reach our goals by the designated time. First, we decided we would have to go to all our meetings. That was a hard one for me because I worked nights, and priesthood meeting started about an hour after my bedtime. But I went anyway. Second, I had to start living the Word of Wisdom; third, we had to pay tithing, and so on. Those goals really made the difference. They gave us a deadline for us to accomplish each step and a final date for when we wanted to be at the temple. That was the only approach that would have been effective for us.”

Once in Utah, Dan Jones settled in Manti, where he was elected the first mayor in 1851. A year later, however, he was called to serve a second mission in his native land. Again he responded without hesitation. With a few others, he began the long trek east. When about eighty miles out of Salt Lake City, he met a group of Welsh Saints coming to the Valley. They had been baptized during his first mission, and they could scarcely contain their feelings when they met their beloved leader, they on their way to the valleys of the West, and he on his way to the valleys of Wales. They sang; they wept; they spoke with words of true affection. They spent a happy day together before parting. As they were separating, Elder Jones gave William Morgan a letter to be delivered to the Presiding Bishop of the Church, Edward Hunter. It breathes the spirit of this remarkable man and his love for his Welsh brethren and sisters:
“Esteemed Bishop Hunter.—Many of my compatriots are coming across in the 13th Company; I do not know their condition; perhaps their money and their provisions are scarce. If so, when they reach the Valley, I shall be grateful to you for furnishing them their needs, through the hand of [Brother Morgan], and I shall pay you in Manti, San Pete Valley.”7

Families and temples just seem to go together, and Sam loves his family even more than he loves temples. His brothers, Willie and John, who are twins serving missions in Uruguay and England respectively, are role models for him. He is especially close to his sister, Lea, a student at BYU. Five years ago Lea suffered a spinal cord injury in a car accident, and she now uses a wheelchair. Sam often paints with her and plays wheelchair basketball with her when she is home on vacation. “Sam’s very sensitive to the feelings of others,” Lea says. “Since I’ve been in the wheelchair, he’s always there to help.”

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.

Many years ago, after World War II, I was attending college. There I met Donna Smith. About that time I read that two essential ingredients to a successful marriage are a cookie and a kiss. I thought that was a pretty good balance.
I attended college in the morning and then went back to Brigham City to work in my father’s auto-repair garage in the afternoon. Donna’s last morning class was home economics. I stopped by her classroom before leaving. The door had a frosted glass window, but if I stood close to the glass, she could see my shadow outside. She would slip out with a cookie and a kiss. The rest is history. We were married in the Logan Utah Temple, and that began the great adventure of our lives.

I was released from active duty in the navy in 1947 and returned to my home in Missouri. There I married the beautiful little dark-haired girl I had met and briefly courted four years previously. I well remember the first time I saw her. She was walking down the street. I was eighteen and she was fourteen—and I knew immediately she was for me. I spoke to her that day and we got acquainted, and I later told her she had four years in which to grow up because I was going into the navy but would come back and marry her.
So, four years later I kept my promise, and came back home to court my sweetheart, and we were married five months later. When we were married, we read and discussed the Bible together. After the births of our first two children I was recalled with other naval aviators to participate in the Korean conflict. I was assigned to a squadron based in San Diego, California, and then ordered to Hawaii for thirteen weeks of special training. I left my little family in San Diego.
No sooner had I departed and my wife had moved our possessions into our rented home than the Mormon missionaries came by and knocked on her door. They were tracting, and many of the questions that they discussed with her were the very questions we had pondered together, so she was very interested.
In one of her letters to me she mentioned that two young men had called on her and asked a lot of questions about religion, to which they seemed to have all the answers. Well, that made me a bit angry. What were young men doing calling on my wife, even in the name of a church, while I was away? I didn’t like it, especially since they were answering questions that I had been pondering all my life.
When I returned home from Hawaii, the first evening Connie, my wife, told me the Joseph Smith story. When she said that he had seen visions and had revelations, it seemed so ridiculous that I laughed in her face, and this made her cry. I then saw how much this story really meant to her, and I relented and said, “Well, the least I can do is read some of the material they left for you to study.”
No sooner did I start to read the Book of Mormon than I knew at last I had found that for which had been searching.
While reading First Nephi, I remember saying to myself, “Dear God, let this be true; please let this be the truth—for if it is, it answers all the questions I have been trying to answer all my life.” I hadn’t finished Second Nephi when I knew it was true.
I had prayed one simple prayer to the Lord for many years: “Dear God, please show me the truth. Please lead me to the truth.” I had sought truth in many places. Now here were two young men, bringing the truth right into my living room. And although they were very young, they had great powers with them—truth and God. I could not argue against what they offered, neither did I wish to.
I attended church for only a few Sundays before it became time for me to leave for Korea. When I went aboard ship on the last day of 1951, I took with me a triple combination and the Articles of Faith by James E. Talmage. I read the Articles of Faith during the first month at sea. One evening in February I heard it announced over the public address system aboard ship that Latter-day Saint services would be held in the crew library at 7:30 P.M. At the appointed hour I went to the library where I found four young men who looked very much like the two young missionaries who had knocked on my door in San Diego. I told them I was not a member of the Church but was interested in studying about it. They welcomed me with much enthusiasm.
When we arrived in Japan in the latter part of February 1952, the group decided that I was ready for baptism. So they accompanied me to the Japan Mission home where I was interviewed and received a recommend. On February 25, 1952, in the garden behind the Japan Mission home in 30-degree weather, seven thousand miles from my home in Missouri, I was baptized. Later I was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My wife was baptized four days later in San Diego, California. Our search had come to an end.
Once again the Lord had stood by his word: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.” (Matt. 7:7–8.)

With his confidence in himself established on a spiritual basis, Peter was ready to work toward going on a mission. After submitting his papers and undergoing a special interview with Elder Thomas S. Monson, Peter received his call to the Northern California Mission.
Up until then Peter had always worn dark glasses in an attempt to cover the slits that had been sewn closed over his eyes to compensate for his lack of eyelids. He had been so self-conscious of his appearance that he never went anywhere without his glasses. On the way to his mission interview, he took his dark glasses off and never wore them again. Surgery later corrected the problem with his eyelids.
His new attitude about himself helped him serve a successful mission. He was able to influence people and encourage them to become members of the Church.

I was in my first year of employment with a cosmetics company. At the time I was divorced and lived alone with my two children. In December the company sent each salesperson large boxes containing the Christmas merchandise we were to sell during the holiday season. That meant, however, that a large amount had been withdrawn from my salary. When I calculated all my monthly expenses and tithing, I had enough for three people to live on—but only for one week. And this money had to cover groceries for the entire month and gas for the car, which I needed for my work.
When our home teacher came, I told him about our situation. I told him I would not be able to pay my tithing because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to feed my family. My faithful home teacher counseled me to pay tithing. He recommended that I do it faithfully, and the Lord would surely bless me. My home teacher had always been distinguished by faithfulness and reliability. I jokingly told him, “If I cannot buy groceries, I will come to you.” But I trusted him and did not want to disappoint him by not following his advice. So I paid a full tithing.
When I presented the Christmas merchandise early in the month, I was able to sell many of my goods. By the end of the month I had sold all of the Christmas items and all of the goods I had had in stock for several months. Had I had more products on hand, I would likely have been able to sell them too.
My home teacher’s promise was completely fulfilled. The Lord really did open the windows of heaven. We had more money than we needed that month. Later I inquired of my colleagues how their Christmas business had gone. They were not satisfied. At that time, a recession had caused a strong decline in sales in the cosmetics industry.
How grateful I am to that home teacher for giving me this good counsel. I have had a strong testimony of tithing ever since. When I visit teach sisters who feel they have too little money to pay tithing, I share my testimony about how much we will be blessed if we do so.

I knew we are all supposed to share the gospel, but I had never had any success. Then, during a Spanish course I was taking, I met a young man named Tiago. We became friends and often walked home from school together. One day we passed an LDS chapel that had recently been built.
“I have been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for several years,” I said. I shared with him some of the things that we believe, and told him how much my family and I have been blessed because of the gospel. I invited him to attend meetings that coming Sunday at 9:00 a.m.
Sunday arrived and I anxiously waited, but he did not come. During the week, I invited him again. This continued every week for two or three months. He always gave me a reason why he hadn’t shown up: “I slept late,” “I was tired,” “There were problems.” But I kept asking him anyway, and he didn’t seem to mind.
One Sunday morning I sat down on one of the benches toward the back of the chapel. There were still a few minutes to go before the meeting began when someone quietly called my name. I looked toward the door, and there was Tiago!
“Didn’t I promise you I would come one day?” he said. He attended sacrament meeting, and to my surprise, stayed for the rest of the meetings and seemed pleased when I introduced him to the missionaries. He began meeting with them regularly. Tiago and I continued to talk as we walked home from school, but our conversations were about the truths he was learning. I was able to answer questions and bear my testimony. Finally, he gained a testimony of his own and joined the Church.
Today I am a full-time missionary in the Brazil Santa Maria Mission. Before I left for the mission field, Tiago also submitted his application to be a full-time missionary, and he is now serving in the Brazil Manaus Mission.
I recently received a letter from him. “Thank you for inviting me again and again to come to church,” he wrote. “I will be eternally grateful.” I am happy not only to share the gospel each day but also to know that Tiago is doing the same.