Gospel Story Finder

“Let me tell you about a man named Emmanuel Ninger. The year is 1887, and the scene is a small neighborhood grocery store. A distinguished looking gentleman in his late 50’s or early 60’s is buying some turnip greens. He hands the clerk a $20 bill and waits for his change. As she starts to make change, she notices that the ink is coming off on her fingers which are still wet from handling the turnip greens. She is shocked and pauses to consider what to do. She thinks, ‘This is Emmanuel Ninger, a long-time friend, a neighbor, and a customer. Surely he would not give me a bill that was anything less than genuine.’ So, she gives him the change and he leaves.
“Later she had some second thoughts because $20 was a large amount of money in 1887. She sent for the police. One policeman was confident that the $20 bill was genuine. The other was puzzled about the ink that rubbed off. Finally they obtained a warrant to search Mr. Ninger’s home.
“In the attic they found the facilities for reproducing $20. As a matter of fact, they found a $20 bill in the process of being printed. They also found three portraits which Emmanuel Ninger had painted. Ninger was an artist, and he was a good one. He was so good, he had hand painted those $20 bills. Meticulously, stroke by stroke, he had applied the master’s touch so skillfully that he was able to fool everyone until a quirk of fate in the form of wet hands of a grocery clerk exposed him.
“After the arrest, his portraits were sold at public auction for $16,000—over $5,000 each. The irony of the story is it took Emmanuel Ninger almost exactly the same length of time to paint a $20 bill as it took him to paint a $5,000 portrait.
“This brilliant and talented man was a thief in every sense of the word. Tragically, the person he stole the most from was himself, Emmanuel Ninger. Not only could he have been a wealthy man if he had legitimately marketed his ability, but he could have brought joy and benefit to his fellowman. He had a choice, and he compromised his integrity” (Vital Speeches of the Day, pp. 40–41).

A friend of mine told the following story:
“There was a little crippled boy who ran a small newsstand in a crowded railroad station. He must have been about twelve years old. Every day he would sell papers, candy, gum, and magazines to the thousands of commuters passing through the terminal.
“One night two men were rushing through the crowded station to catch a train. One was fifteen or twenty yards in front of the other. It was Christmas eve. Their train was scheduled to depart in a matter of minutes.
“The first man turned a corner and in his haste to get home to a Christmas cocktail party plowed right into the little crippled boy. He knocked him off his stool, and candy, newspapers, and gum were scattered everywhere. Without so much as stopping, he cursed the little fellow for being there and rushed on to catch the train that would take him to celebrate Christmas in the way he had chosen for himself.
“It was only a matter of seconds before the second commuter arrived on the scene. He stopped, knelt, and gently picked up the boy. After making sure the child was unhurt, the man gathered up the scattered newspapers, sweets, and magazines. Then he took his wallet and gave the boy a five dollar bill. ‘Son,’ he said, ‘I think this will take care of what was lost or soiled. Merry Christmas!’
“Without waiting for a reply the commuter now picked up his briefcase and started to hurry away. As he did, the little crippled boy cupped his hands together and called out, ‘Mister, Mister!’
“The man stopped as the boy asked, ‘Are you Jesus Christ?’
“By the look on his face, it was obvious the commuter was embarrassed by the question. But he smiled and said, ‘No, son. I am not Jesus Christ, but I am trying hard to do what He would do if He were here’” (American Opinion, Dec. 1971, pp. 13–14).

“Yes. Just an hour ago. It was in the holy temple across the way. The sealing room was shut off from the noisy world by its thick, white-painted walls; the drapes, light and warm; the furniture, neat and dignified; the mirrors on two opposite walls seeming to take one in continuous likenesses on and on into infinity; and the beautiful stained-glass window in front of me giving such a peaceful glow. All the people in the room were dressed in white. Here were peace and harmony and eager anticipation. A well-groomed young man and an exquisitely gowned young woman, lovely beyond description, knelt across the altar. Authoritatively, I pronounced the heavenly ceremony which married and sealed them for eternity on earth and in the celestial worlds. The pure in heart were there. Heaven was there.
“When the eternal marriage was solemnized, and as the subdued congratulations were extended, a happy father, radiant in his joy, offered his hand and said, ‘Brother Kimball, my wife and I are common people and have never been successful, but we are immensely proud of our family.’ He continued, ‘This is the last of our eight children to come into this holy house for temple marriage. They, with their companions, are here to participate in the marriage of this, the youngest. This is our supremely happy day, with all of our eight children married properly. They are faithful to the Lord in church service, and the older ones are already rearing families in righteousness.’
“I looked at his calloused hands, his rough exterior, and thought to myself, ‘Here is a real son of God fulfilling his destiny.’
“‘Success?’ I said, as I grasped his hand. ‘That is the greatest success story I have heard. You might have accumulated millions in stocks and bonds, bank accounts, lands, industries, and still be quite a failure. You are fulfilling the purpose for which you were sent into this world by keeping your own lives righteous, bearing and rearing this great posterity, and training them in faith and works. Why, my dear folks, you are eminently successful. God bless you.’”

Have you ever made a really big decision that would affect not only you but your whole family? Amelia S. of Ontario, Canada, has.
When Amelia was four, she began taking ballet at a professional dance school. She learned quickly and soon was at the top of her class.
“As I danced and leaped through the air, I felt as if I could fly,” Amelia says. “I could imagine I was alone on the stage—a real prima ballerina.”
When Amelia was eight, her teachers said she needed to spend more time at the dance school so she could prepare for a professional audition. Amelia was a hard worker, so she didn’t mind. But then the director of the school said that by the age of 12, Amelia would need to be at the dance studio whenever she wasn’t at school.
“What about her family?” Amelia’s mother asked.
“The studio will become her family,” the director said.
Amelia’s parents talked to her about her choices. She knew she wouldn’t have time to spend with her brother and sisters. She wouldn’t have time to play the piano.
Amelia thought and prayed about it. She wanted to do what was best for her whole family.
It wasn’t easy, but Amelia decided to stop taking ballet. It was hard at first, but as time went on she knew she had made a good choice. She learned she can handle changes. Her piano playing improved. Soon she was even playing the piano at a nursing home.
Amelia is a wonderful big sister. She helps her family in their garden. They all like to watch movies together as they fold laundry. Amelia loves to read. Sometimes she plays the piano in her ward. And she is glad she chose to spend time with her family and have a well-rounded life.

I met a man in Florida who took 15 years to join the Church. But once he was in, he resolved to spend the rest of his life as a missionary. More than anything else, he liked to ask people questions about the gospel. He sold used cars, and one day an all-American football player asked him if he would sell him a small pickup truck. My friend said, “I’ll do that, but I want to ask you something far more important. What do you know about Moroni?”
“Moroni who?” the football player asked.
“I guess he doesn’t have a last name,” my friend said. He then persisted and taught the football player the gospel. Within a few weeks’ time the football player had joined the Church and has remained faithful ever since. My friend has brought close to one hundred people into the Church! To me he is a great hero and stands out as one of the best missionaries I have ever known.

November 4, 2011, changed my life. I was a senior in high school and was playing my last regular season football game. During a punt-return play late in the fourth quarter, I went to tackle a player on the other team and was knocked unconscious when his shoulder pad hit my face.
I woke up briefly minutes later only to slip back into unconsciousness almost immediately. It was clear, however, that my body was paralyzed. As paramedics prepared to take me to the hospital, my mom wanted to make sure my dad gave me a priesthood blessing. So he found the dad of another Latter-day Saint player and they gave me a blessing in the back of the ambulance.
Later that evening, I regained consciousness and slowly began to gain feeling in my body. When that happened, the hospital staff sent me home and told me nothing was wrong. However, my parents and I felt that there was still a problem, so I went to see a specialist.
After looking at my injuries, the specialist said, “I don’t know how you walked into my office today. You shouldn’t be able to move or even breathe on your own because of the severe problems in your spinal cord. Someone has been watching over you.” He told me how surprised he was that I was even alive and that I wasn’t paralyzed. I knew it was because of the priesthood blessing, and I was grateful my dad and my teammate’s father were both worthy and prepared to administer the blessing.
My recovery was still painful. I continued to see the specialist and began physical therapy. I struggled with severe pain and fatigue and was unable to attend school—I couldn’t even sit up by myself for three months.
The only thing that kept me going was the Spirit. As someone who’d been very social, it was hard to be home by myself all day while Mom and Dad were at work. I found comfort through the Spirit and through prayer and scripture study. The gospel kept me going. And I knew the priesthood blessing and the prayers of my friends (both Church members and friends of other faiths) helped.
After a few months, I felt strongly that I needed to return to seminary. And even though my medication made it extremely hard to get out of bed, I was determined to go. At first, seminary took all my energy for the day. But once I started going, my recovery time seemed to decrease, and I began to heal more quickly and to feel better. This was a miracle to my family and me.
Two years later, I can now run, jump, and move around with little pain.
I know that Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and angels were watching over me the night of the accident. I’ve felt the power of the priesthood so strongly because I received a blessing from worthy priesthood holders. That, combined with the pattern of personal prayer, scripture study, and seminary attendance I’d established before the accident and have continued after, helped me through the healing process.

Ana chewed her last bite of tortilla. It was soft and yummy. Ana loved her grandmother’s tortillas. They were the best part of breakfast.
Ana watched her grandmother, Abuela, wash the dishes.
It was like any other morning. But one thing was not the same.
Abuela usually walked to the market to buy food. But not today. Today there was no money to buy food.
“What will we eat tomorrow?” Ana wondered.
Then Ana remembered. She knew where some money was! Last night she saw Abuela put a few pesos in a little white cloth.
“Abuela, did you forget? You have money to buy food.”
“What money?” Abuela asked.
Ana ran to get the money. She shook the little bag of coins. Clink! Clink!
Abuela smiled. “That is our tithing, Ana. That is His money.”
“But what will we eat tomorrow?” Ana asked.
“Do not worry,” Abuela said. “I have faith that Heavenly Father will help us.”
The next morning Abuela gave Ana the last corn tortilla. Then she sat down in her chair. She stitched red flowers onto a dress and told stories about when she was a little girl. She did not look worried.
Then Ana heard a knock. She ran to open the door.
“Uncle Pedro!”
“I had a feeling I should visit you two,” Uncle Pedro said. He put three sacks on the table. One had corn flour for tortillas. Another had meat. Another had fresh vegetables from the market.
“Oh, my sweet son,” Abuela said. “I’m going to make you my best meatball soup!”
“Your soup is the best in the world,” Uncle Pedro said.
Ana laughed and clapped her hands.
Then she stopped. There was one thing she wanted to know. “Abuela, did you know Uncle Pedro would come today? Is that why you weren’t worried?”
“No,” Abuela said. “When I pay my tithing, I have faith that Heavenly Father will bless me. And He did!”
Ana hugged Abuela. She felt like the happiest girl in Mexico. She and Abuela had faith in Heavenly Father. Now she couldn’t wait to eat Abuela’s yummy soup!

When I arrived in Rochester, New York, to serve my mission, the other missionaries in my group and I were taken directly from the airport to the Sacred Grove. Here, said my mission president, we were to “check in” with the Lord.
Although it was summer, the grove was surprisingly empty. I wandered through the grove and found a spot that seemed right. I began to think about what I was doing there. The mission president hadn’t told us exactly what “checking in” meant but left us to determine it on our own.
I thought of how I was a missionary facing two years of telling people that, not far from where they live, in a grove of trees, the gospel of Jesus Christ had been restored. Could I rely on my testimony of what had happened to convincingly teach others that God himself had spoken to a young man and reestablished his gospel in this last dispensation?
Despite my feelings of insecurity, I knew that it was important to share the testimony I had gained of the restored gospel. As I knelt in the grove that day, I felt the Spirit whispering to me, telling me that I could testify that Joseph Smith was a prophet, that I could teach others that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ had appeared to young Joseph in this grove of trees. The impressions I felt gave me strength to go forward for the next two years.
To remember my experience, and the place where I knelt, I found a stone and placed it where I had knelt so that I would know this spot when I returned. During the next two years, I was blessed with several opportunities to return to the grove to teach discussions, to reflect on spiritual matters, and to have periodic “check-ins” with the Lord. Each time I visited the grove, I would add another stone and ponder over my previous visits and impressions. By the end of two years, the stone I had first placed to remember that place had grown to a small pile, and my testimony had solidified.
“Checking out” was a moving and sacred experience to me. Had I done what was expected? Had I served an honorable mission? Pondering these questions was a very soul-searching experience for me—the ultimate job evaluation. The Spirit again whispered to me, and I departed from that place, which had become like an old friend to me, ready for the next phase in my life. I will never forget those experiences in the Sacred Grove.

Let me share a humorous story to illustrate. In my family, pretty much all the females share the same DNA for large calves. We lovingly credit our great-grandma with passing them down to us. We never actually saw her legs, but when we tried to blame my mom she said it was her grandma’s fault. We refer to our calves as cows—they are the calves already grown up. A few years ago my sister was cursing her calves when the Spirit said to her very clearly, “That which you curse is what got your ancestors across the plains.” A humbling revelation indeed!

In His perfect wisdom, Heavenly Father has given each of us the unique temples we need to fill the missions He sent us here to accomplish.

As Roslyn read, it was as if Shelly was with her again. What a sweet feeling it gave her! She turned to the last entry she had recorded. It was mostly about her brothers, Steve and Wesley: “Today Steve cut a hole in the bottom of one of his old sweatsuits. He stood Wesley behind a little table with a blanket over it. Wesley had the sweatsuit on, but the legs of the pants were on the table. Steve put his arms through the pants legs and put shoes on his hands so that it looked like Wesley’s legs were sitting on the table. He hid behind Wesley and made the legs dance from side to side, up around his face, and all over. We all laughed and laughed.”

The second point in this formula is to study and learn the gospel. As our young family was growing up, like many of your families we would have scripture study early in the morning, and that usually meant our children were not very alert. We sometimes wondered if anyone was listening, let alone learning. My wife and I felt a little relieved when Elder Bednar shared the following statement in general conference about his family:
If you could ask our adult sons what they remember about family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening, I believe I know how they would answer. They likely would not identify a particular prayer or a specific instance of scripture study or an especially meaningful family home evening lesson as the defining moment in their spiritual development. What they would say they remember is that as a family we were consistent.
Sister Bednar and I thought helping our sons understand the content of a particular lesson or a specific scripture was the ultimate outcome. But such a result does not occur each time we study or pray or learn together. The consistency of our intent and work was perhaps the greatest lesson—a lesson we did not fully appreciate at the time.7
One day our second son came home from his early years in seminary and gave me a drawing of the plan of salvation. It was well done. He had drawn the premortal existence, mortality, and life beyond the grave, including the celestial, terrestrial, and telestial kingdoms. It was all there. He even had drawn himself holding hands with the Redeemer in the celestial kingdom.
I then asked him how he knew the plan so well, and he said, “I don’t know, Dad, but I won a candy bar!” He then said he was the only student in the class who could do it. Hopefully he had learned it in family scripture study or in family home evening, even though we weren’t sure they were learning anything at the time.

One time I went to the beach. I met a friend named Courtney. We were playing in the ocean. Soon everyone started running out of the water. I wondered why everyone was running. I looked at the lifeguard’s flag, and it was red. Then I was swept under the water by a huge wave. There was a loud swishing noise in my ears, and I kept paddling my hands but couldn’t get out. Then I heard a voice say, “Kick your feet.” So I did, and I suddenly floated to the top and got out of the water.
I am so glad the Holy Ghost was with me that day, because the ocean can be very dangerous. I know that the Holy Ghost can protect us if we listen to Him.Lauren Adair Jones, age 6Hookerton, North Carolina

I should like to give you another example. One of our most respected community-minded citizens began to act as though his feelings had been hurt and to stay away from socials where, in the past, he had gone and taken a most active part. People started accusing him of being a sorehead, a poor sport, antisocial, etc., and even evaded him whenever possible. Later, a medical diagnosis showed he was suffering from a brain tumor, which had been the cause of his lack of interest in activities that he had previously attended and even sponsored.

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

At the rear of the sun-drenched chapel, behind the last row of chairs, a man squats on the floor happily bottle-feeding a baby. It’s not his baby. He’s just “borrowed” it from its mother. It gives her a chance to concentrate on the Gospel Doctrine lesson and gives him the pleasure of cradling a baby in his arms.
The man is Wisit Khanakam, president of the Chiang Mai District, Thailand, and the loving care he gives the baby is typical of the loving care he gives the five hundred members in the three branches he serves.
The members know that President Khanakam lives the gospel principles he teaches. In his home the day before, he said, “If there is one thing that helps me and my family stay active in the Church, it is living the gospel. That’s not just praying, not just studying the scriptures, not just serving in a calling, but applying all the gospel principles to our daily lives.
“For example, the Church teaches us how to build love and unity in the family—mother and father and the children helping each other. Just like today,” he says, “my wife had to go to work this afternoon. I had to work in the morning, but I came home in the afternoon to care for our two children, do some laundry, and wash the dishes.”
As he speaks, his seven-year-old daughter, Wisuchalak (nicknamed Buang), sleepily walks into the room from an afternoon nap. Seeing her father is busy, she turns on the television. Although she chooses a children’s program, it contains some rather frightening animation. Her father walks over to her, puts his arm around her, quietly explains that the program really isn’t suitable for her to watch, and successfully encourages her to go outside and play with her eight-year-old brother, Wisoodthiporn, or Ben. “We call him Ben after King Benjamin in the Book of Mormon,” explains President Khanakam.
“There are many things to do in the home,” he says. “It is the activities we do together as a family that help build our testimonies and strengthen us spiritually. For example, my wife is very good at preserving the oranges and mangoes we grow. We get the children involved in gathering the fruit and preparing it for storage. We also work together to keep family records—individual journals, as well as a family history.”
Teachers by profession, President and Sister Khanakam used family prayer and their training to help their son overcome what appeared to be a learning disability. “His teachers said he was very slow intellectually, and so we first thought of providing him with a tutor at home. But then we prayed about the problem, and we realized that the best teachers for our son were his mother and father. Our decision, based on the answer to our prayers, is turning out well. Ben is happy that his mother and father understand his needs and want to help him. As we help him with his school work, he is improving and learning faster. And it gives us the opportunity to grow closer together.”
The closeness of the family now is in contrast to the separation that employment forced upon Brother and Sister Khanakam after they were married in 1981. “A month after our marriage, we were sealed in the Tokyo Temple. When we came home, I returned to Chiang Mai, where I had a good-paying teacher’s position, and my wife returned to her family home in Mahasarakham 830 kilometers away. We lived that way for about a year. But the full-time missionaries would keep asking me, ‘Wisit, do you have the faith the Lord will bless you if you keep your temple covenants? You need to be with your wife.’
“So I quit my job in Chiang Mai and found one in Mahasarakham. I was earning less than half what I had made in Chiang Mai. That’s when we learned to apply welfare principles in our family. We learned how to budget our income, to work with our hands, and to raise a family in the gospel.
“I was called as president of the Mahasarakham branch, and my wife was called as Relief Society president. I was the only male member in the branch. It took a couple of years for the membership to grow. Now they have a chapel of their own—not because of anything we did, but because of the love and unity that the people there have.”
Before moving to Mahasarakham, Brother Khanakam served as Chiang Mai District President, a calling he received again when he returned to Chiang Mai three years ago to teach at the local high school.
The Khanakams live in a house outside the city of Chiang Mai on family property that contains fruit trees and about three acres of rice paddy. “We hire some people to grow the rice and then give the crop to my mother.”
His relationship with his mother is greatly improved from the days twenty years ago when he first made contact with Latter-day Saint missionaries.
He was introduced by a friend to the English language classes the missionaries presented. That led to the discussions and an invitation to attend Church.
“I attended the investigators’ class. What I heard there made little sense to me at first. I was an active Buddhist in a family of active Buddhists. But the name of Jesus touched my heart. I remember as a boy hearing Protestant missionaries talk of Jesus and Christianity. My parents and relatives did not like Christians and they said harsh things about them and about Jesus. I couldn’t help but wonder about this man Jesus. What happened to him? Why did my family talk only of bad things about him?
“So when the missionaries talked to me of Jesus, I decided to invite them to my cousin’s home where I was living while going to school. He and his family listened to some of the discussions, but then stopped.
“I continued with the discussions and with attending church, and I finally gained a testimony.
“I was baptized when I was eighteen years old.
“When I told my mother that I had been baptized, she became very upset, and she cut me from the family. I was the ‘baby’ in the family, with three older brothers and an older sister. From that time on, I suffered a great deal of persecution from my family, and I left home.
“Knowing of my situation, the branch president wisely counseled me that if I loved God I would want to obey his commandments and show love and respect for my parents. The Lord would bless me, the president said, if I would return home and be an example of Christian living to my family.
“When I went home, my mother said, ‘What do you need? A mattress, pillows, or anything? I’ll give them to you, but you can’t stay here with us.’
“But I told her I loved her and my father and my brothers and my sister, and I wanted to stay. The family was very upset, and no one would talk to me. But apart from going to school, I stayed home and worked very hard doing whatever I could around the house, or around the property.
“When I completed high school I wanted to go to the university. My mother said, ‘Tell me you are not a Mormon and I will let you go to the university. If you tell me you are a Mormon, you will never go to school.’ I said, ‘Mother, I am a Mormon.’ ‘That’s enough,’ she said.
“I didn’t even try to take the entrance examination.”
Instead, Brother Khanakam studied at the English Language Center in Chiang Mai, and eventually he successfully applied for a position with an American professor studying in Thailand. Later, with his mother’s approval, he attended the university in Bangkok for almost four years.
“Although my father died at this time, the university was a good experience for me. But I always made sure that the campus activities would not interfere with my church attendance. My friends urged me to serve a mission. Although I didn’t have a personal testimony of being a missionary, I encouraged others to go.
“After the university, I taught in public schools to earn some money and then decided I would go on a mission. When I told my mother, she was very, very angry with me. She contacted her attorney and had me cut from her will. She told me, ‘Choose what you want: your family or your church.’ I told her I wanted to serve a mission for the Lord. ‘All right,’ she said, ‘but you’ll get no support from the family.’”
Brother Khanakam served in the Thailand Bangkok Mission, where he had “many good experiences.” One of these experiences involved his mother and his sister. They were visiting in Bangkok, and Brother Khanakam invited them to a fireside where Elder Jacob de Jager of the Seventy was speaking.
“I was asked to be his interpreter. I knelt with him and prayed for my family. In his talk, Elder de Jager made some complimentary comments about my family. I looked at my mother, and she was crying. Even my sister, who had been so opposed to my joining the Church that she almost shot me, was crying, too. After the fireside my mother said if there was anything she could do to support me on my mission I was to let her know. I know that she was touched that day by the Spirit.
“My relationship with my family is good now. They love me, and they love my wife and children. My mother lives in a house close to us.”
While on his mission, Brother Khanakam first met a newly called lady missionary, Sumamaan Srisarakham. Three years after his mission, he made contact with her again through a mutual friend, and they began a correspondence. When they started talking of marriage, Sister Srisarakham prayed for guidance and felt as though “the Savior’s hand was on my head confirming my decision to marry and have a family.”
Currently, Sister Khanakam serves as the district Relief Society president and teaches a Primary class in the Chiang Mai Branch.
“What we do within the four walls of our home is most important to us and to those we can influence for good,” says President Khanakam. “For example, a neighboring couple has been taking the missionary discussions and now permits their son to attend church with us. This has come about because they liked what they saw in us as a family. As a family, as Latter-day Saints everywhere, we can perfect our lives through living the gospel.”

Henry and his friends were excited to visit a farm.
First they played in the pumpkin patch. “Look at that big pumpkin!” Henry called.
“And there’s a little baby one!” Adalynn said.
Then they went to see the goats and chickens. “The chicks are so fuzzy,” Peyton said.
Next it was time to ride the train. “All aboard!” Mom said.
The train chugged past horses and apple trees. It chugged past a big roll of hay that looked like a pig.
The train stopped at the corn maze.
“Hooray!” Henry said. This was the best part.
They followed a sign into the corn maze. Trails were everywhere. Some trails led to other trails. Some trails just ended. Henry and his friends walked and walked.
After a while, they all felt tired. “How do we get out of the maze?” Henry asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mom said.
Henry couldn’t see over the corn stalks. His heart beat fast. Maybe they were lost!
“Let’s say a prayer,” Mom said.
“OK,” Henry said. He bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, please help us get out of the corn maze.” After he said, “Amen,” Henry felt warm and happy.
Soon Henry heard someone shout, “Here’s the way out!”
Henry knew Heavenly Father helped them.
At bedtime, Henry said a prayer. He thanked Heavenly Father for helping him.
He smiled. It felt good to know that Heavenly Father loved him. And that Heavenly Father could always hear him pray, even in a corn maze!

But before I tell you what he says, we need to go back and catch up on the story of the Alma family and how Alma the Younger got to this point in his life.
Alma’s father was also Alma, commonly referred to as Alma the Elder. We first learn about him as a 20-something-year-old priest [2] in the courts of Noah, a wicked Nephite King.
While working there, Alma the Elder is converted by the words of the prophet Abinidi and, because of his beliefs, has to run into the wilderness and hide from his former colleagues, the other priests, along with a group of about 450 others. They conceal themselves at a place called the Waters of Mormon, and later in a land called Helam, but are eventually discovered by the Lamanites.
To make matters worse, the leader appointed over them by the Lamanites is a man named Amulon, also a former priest of Noah, who still had an axe to grind with Alma. Amulon wanted Alma and his people to suffer.
Now, it’s unclear how much of this Alma the Younger experienced. We don’t know if he was born in the wilderness, or while in Lamanite captivity, or maybe later in the land of Zarahemla. There is a clue, though.
In Mosiah 24:8 when describing the difficulties the people of Alma are experiencing under Amulon’s rule, Mormon makes a point to say that Amulon “[caused] that his children should persecute their children,” [3] maybe referring to Alma the Younger. If he was alive during this period, it couldn’t have been easy for him, facing daily harassment and bullying from Amulon’s kids.
Later, after the Lord miraculously delivers the people of Alma from the Lamanites, they rejoin the Nephites in Zarahemla. Alma the Elder, now close to 50 years old, [4] is asked to organize the Church throughout the land.
It’s safe to assume, because of what we know about Alma the Elder, that home life for Alma the Younger included family home evening, regular scripture study, family prayer, and youth activities. On paper, Alma the Younger should have had all the righteous influence a person needed.
Which is why, at first, it might be a little surprising to learn, when we first meet Alma the Younger in Mosiah 27, that he, along with the king’s sons, don’t believe in the gospel and are among a growing faction of young adults in Zarahemla who aren’t interested in church.
At least some of this group don’t just agree to disagree with Church members; they seek to destroy the Church and lead the people astray. Alma convinced many to his way of thinking and, as it says in verse 8, became a great hindrance to the prosperity of the Church of God. [5]
I’ve wondered, with a father like Alma the Elder, why Alma the Younger had so much resentment towards the Church.
Was it difficult to have a father who was such a strong spiritual leader? Could it be because of the mistreatment and abuse he experienced at the hands of Amulon’s children when he was a kid, if in fact he was alive for some of this experience in the wilderness? What emotional scars did he have from those moments and how did they shape his view of the world and his relationship with God?
Well, you know the rest of the story. An angel visits Alma the Younger and commands him to stop. Alma goes through a very painful and accelerated repentance process and becomes a completely different person. He focuses his energies on trying to repair the damage he caused, and after a time he replaces his father as the high priest of the Church.
Now we’re all caught up and back to Alma 29 where he finds himself, an experienced minister, frustrated that he can’t do more to convince people of the truth. It’s right here, disheartened, he says to himself, “O that I were an angel” [6]—or maybe, in other words, “it was angel that helped me, and if I was an angel, maybe I could save more people.” But then he stops himself and says, “I ought not to harrow up in my desires the firm decree of a just God.” [7]
He’s quick to point out how critical choice is to God’s plan, and here’s the line that’s very interesting: “For I know that he granteth unto men according to their desire.” [8]

A man lying on a mattress in the aisle. The rest of the story: When I moved into a new ward, I was surprised to see a brother on a moveable hospital bed in the chapel. This man had many disabilities and was only able to attend church in this way. I quickly realized this was typical for this ward, and I adapted quickly. His being there was not irreverent but, in fact, quite the opposite. After all, didn’t the Savior heal a man who had been lowered down on his bed by his friends into a crowded house? (see Luke 5:18–20).

Roberto and Giovanna Marino
Giovanna Marino struggled with some of the things the missionaries taught; could there be men so good in our times, she wondered, as to be true prophets? But she liked the spirit the missionaries brought to her home. And for her, the first time she read the Book of Mormon, enlightenment came almost as healing had come to the blinded Paul, who taught in her part of Italy nearly two thousand years ago; it was as though scales fell from her spiritual eyes, she recalls.
Her husband, Roberto, accepted everything the missionaries taught; the doctrine of eternal marriage seemed especially important to him. Prayer helped him overcome his difficult smoking and coffee consumption habits, and the Marinos were baptized in January of 1975.
It was a year later, as they prepared to go the Swiss Temple, that Sister Marino remembered the prayer she had offered not long before they met the missionaries. She had prayed specifically to know who God was, why Jesus Christ was his son, why Jesus had to die, and why we exist. And she gave thanks for the direct answer to that prayer.
The Marinos live in Siracusa, Sicily. He is currently a counselor to the president of the Italy Catania Mission, and she handles Church public communications efforts in Italy.

Janet Egbo of Big Qua Town Ward, Calabar Nigeria Stake
I am a teacher by profession, I reside and work in Calabar. I have always wanted additional income because what I earned was not sufficient to support my family. I was part of the self-reliance group in my stake and I joined the Starting and Growing My Business group.
I learned a lot of principles throughout the Starting and Growing My Business group meetings, which motivated me to start a business of my own. I never knew that I could start small and grow big.
The principles I learned that gave me the guide I needed to succeed were: payment of tithing, praying, savings, budgeting, and record keeping. I was able to start with two bags of flour and a bag of sugar. Today I have rented a shop for the business.
I have a variety of commodities on my shelves, and my shop is a mini supermarket because I have most of the items that households may need.
I am indeed grateful that I heeded the call to join a self-reliance group. I now have the additional income I needed.
I am now growing my business. I keep record of my sales, use a budget, and I can save money.
I now pay my tithing and fast offering, take care of my basic needs, and that of my family members.