Gospel Story Finder

One Sunday at a new ward, I sat alone during sacrament meeting. Afterward, I watched ward members talk to one another, but nobody introduced themselves to me, and I was too shy to start a conversation. As a more introverted person, I felt out of place in a ward that seemed like it was full of extroverted people. I felt like a failed member of the Church because they had skills of connection that I didn’t. So I went home before Sunday School.
I figured that being different socially prevented me from fitting in or unifying with my congregation. But over time, I’ve realized that a difference in social comfort or abilities doesn’t have to divide us or prevent us from worshipping. Rather, despite our differences in introversion and extroversion, we can all contribute unique abilities that God needs in His kingdom.

“Just before I take part in competition, I always ask Heavenly Father to help me get through,” says 13-year-old discus thrower Leanne Grey, of Sutton Coldfield, England. “This is a great comfort. Having a clear conscience and feeling good inside helps too.”
It seems to be working. She’s won first place in the Independent Schools 16-and-under age group, after facing stiff competition from the rest of the country.

As a young teenager, David continued to work on the farm and later attended the University of Utah, graduating in 1897. During his years at college he played football, played piano for a dance band, and was elected president of his senior class. He had made his professional plans as graduation drew near, but shortly before receiving his diploma he received a letter from President Wilford Woodruff, calling him to serve a mission in Great Britain. It was a major decision—and he struggled with it, as must many young men and women today. He decided to set aside his plans and accept the call.
His first months in the Scottish conference, where his father had served years earlier, were not easy, as is the case for many missionaries. He describes this discouraging time and its resultant renewal of his commitment to the Lord in these words:
“I was homesick and a little discouraged on this day. …
“I had just left school. I loved school and I loved young people. I loved youth. And then to go over there and feel … [people’s] prejudice [against the Church] gave me the blues.
“As [my companion and I] were coming back into town, I saw on my right an unfinished dwelling, over the front door of which was a stone on which there was a carving. That was most unusual, so I said to Elder Johnston, ‘I’m going to see what that is.’ I was half way up the graveled walk when there came to my eyesight a striking motto as follows, carved in stone: ‘Whate’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.’
“I repeated it to Elder Johnston as we walked in to town to find a place for our lodgings before we began our work. We walked quietly, but I said to myself, or the Spirit within me, ‘You are a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. More than that, you are here as a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ. You accepted the responsibility as a representative of the Church.’ …
“That afternoon, by the time we found our lodgings, I accepted the message given to me on that stone, and from that moment we tried to do our part as missionaries in Scotland.”

About 11 o’clock we drove up to the home of Mons Andersen, and out came Sister Christine Andersen to bid us welcome and put her arms around us one by one and kiss the rest of them. When my turn came, that was something I was not used to, so I didn’t know what to do. For some reason I didn’t run away. A host of neighbor children and aged folks came around us and shook hands with us. I guess they bid us welcome, for I could not understand a word of English. The children were at Sunday School but soon arrived home. They also kissed us welcome, and by that time I was kind of getting used to it. But they surely made us feel at home.
There was another striking thing that helped me on my way toward investigation. It was just when lots of fruit was ripe, such as strawberries, gooseberries, and early apples. Those who have met Sister Andersen know what a loving disposition she had. She said, “Go out and help yourselves.” If it had not been for her loving way, I could barely have thought she meant it. But she surely did. It was something different to what it was in Norway. I was getting closer to joining the church.
Now I hadn’t had time to think of what to do to earn a living in a strange land with a strange language. On Friday morning, July 26, 1872, there came a man to the house of Mons Andersen who wanted a boy to help him in the field. His name was Peter Petersen. My wages were $8.00 a month. I worked with him 20 months. I must now tell a little that happened in that time. It was customary at that time that newcomers should be rebaptized. So Peter Petersen’s wife, Karen Larsen Petersen, told me, “There will be baptisms today. So you must hitch up the horses and take these people down to the mill pond to be baptized. And you must be baptized too.” I told her I would be glad to take them down, but I was not ready for baptism yet.
That coming winter I started to go to school so I could learn a little English. I had also gone with Mons Andersen’s boys to Sunday School. Eischa Pack was the teacher at that time. They were reading in turns out of the Bible; but when it came my turn to read, Brother Pack would read my verse, and there was not even a moment wasted. I was glad although I could not understand what they said. Yet I got to enjoying Sunday School. Sister Karen Larsen Petersen became sick and died on February 7, 1873, and that ended my schooling at that time. But I learned enough so I got into the Third Reader.
Now I had been studying the gospel and praying about it. I knew Jesus’s answer to Nicodemus as we find recorded in the third chapter of John: “Except a man is born of water and of the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” [John 3:5] So on August 30, 1873, I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by Mons Andersen and confirmed by Abraham Lossee in Lehi.

I know of a young mother with five little children who called an older sister, her valued mentor, and asked, “Can we go on a hike?” Her friend knew that meant she needed to talk. Halfway through an eight-mile loop, the young mother finally said, “I just can’t believe that Heavenly Father loves me; I’ve made lots of mistakes in my life. I can’t feel that I’m worthy of His love; how can He possibly love me?” Sisters, this was a woman who had made temple covenants and was active in the Church. And yet she still felt unworthy of His love. The older sister quickly responded, “Of course He loves you. You’re His daughter.”

Alex asked his friend Jake to play at his house on Saturday. They were having fun with race cars when Jake noticed a picture hanging on the wall.
“Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to the picture of Thomas S. Monson.
“That’s President Monson,” Alex said.
Jake didn’t say anything.
“You know, the prophet of our Church,” Alex said.
Jake looked embarrassed. “We don’t go to church anymore,” he said.
“Why did you stop going?” Alex asked.
Jake shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to come with me on Sunday?” Alex asked. “We could go to Primary together. My teacher is really great.”
Jake’s eyes brightened. “I’ll have to ask my mom, but I think she’ll let me go,” Jake said.
At lunchtime, Alex asked his mom, “Can Jake go to Primary with me tomorrow?”
“We have to check with Jake’s mother,” Mom said. “If she says yes, then of course he can go.”
Later that day, Jake’s mom came to pick him up.
“Can Jake go to Primary with me tomorrow?” Alex asked.
“Can I, Mom?” Jake said. “Alex says Primary is really great. They read stories, sing songs, and learn about people in the scriptures.”
“I don’t know,” Jake’s mom said, looking uncertain. “We haven’t been to church for a long time.”
“Please, Mom,” Jake said. “I want to go.”
“Jake is welcome to come with us,” Alex’s mom said.
“Are you sure you want to go?” Jake’s mom asked.
“I’m sure!” Jake said.
“Then I guess it’s OK,” Jake’s mom said.
Jake gave his mom a quick hug. “Thanks,” he said.
On Sunday morning, Alex’s family picked up Jake. He was dressed in his Sunday clothes. After sacrament meeting the boys went to Primary. When they got to class, their teacher said, “We’re so glad to have you here, Jake.”
After church, Alex’s family took Jake home.
“Thanks for taking me to church with you,” Jake said.
Alex’s mom smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Jake. We hope you’ll come with us again,” she said.
That evening at dinner, Alex asked, “Can I invite Jake to go to church with us next Sunday?”
Mom nodded. “I’m going to follow your example and invite his mother to go with us too,” she said.
“You’re a good missionary, Alex,” Dad said.
Alex was surprised. “I was just being a friend,” he said.
“That’s what a missionary is,” Mom said, “a friend.”

When I was baptized I wanted to have a strong testimony like other members of the Church. I fasted and prayed until I gained a small testimony, but I still felt a little sad. Then I read “A Growing Testimony” by President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, in the January 2001 Liahona (Spanish). President Faust said that our testimonies will continue to grow, and I know this is true. My testimony is getting stronger every day. I’m grateful and happy to be a Latter-day Saint and to have a growing testimony.
Gilberto Cordero Castro,Coronado Branch, San José Costa Rica Toyopán Stake

High school was hard because of the language and behavior of my classmates. I would often go out into the hall so I wouldn’t have to hear inappropriate conversations. I fasted and asked Heavenly Father to touch their hearts so my classmates would respect me. And eventually that is what happened. When somebody would talk about inappropriate things, my friends would say, “Hey, Jezabel’s here.” They began to respect my standards, and I was able to give a copy of the Book of Mormon to two of them.
Jezabel Dana Álvarez,Mayoraz Ward, Santa Fe Argentina North Stake

“Do you have a rope?” the man in the boat called out. The man’s family had been fishing when their boat motor stopped. They had no way of getting to shore. Weldon’s dad steered his boat closer. Weldon’s brothers got a long rope and threw one end to the man. When the rope was securely tied to both boats, Weldon’s dad slowly towed the man’s family and their boat to shore.
Looking at the rope, Weldon asked his mom, “Is our rope strong enough to pull the boat?”
“Look closely at the rope,” Mom replied. Weldon could see the rope was made of lots of individual strands twisted together. “When all the strands work together, the rope is strong—just like our family,” Mom said.
Weldon asked, “What do we do to make our family strong?” Mom said he was strengthening their family each time he answered, “I will!” and happily did his assigned jobs or was kind to his brothers and sister.

Puebla, Mexico: He hadn’t attended church for years. Then an old friend, his new home teacher, invited him to stake conference.
Baptized in 1964, Velino Camela hadn’t been to Church for years, even though his wife and six children were active. Then Abel Toriz, his friend of more than twenty years, was assigned as his home teacher.
During the first visit, Brother Toriz and his son Enoc saw an open beer can on the table, but they didn’t say anything about it. And they visited every week, rather than once a month.
“We hope to see you at church because we miss you,” Brother Toriz would say.
“Well, my family will go, but I won’t,” would be the reply.
“But, hermano, you are the head of the home.”
“Yes, but I’m not going to church.”
Brother Toriz and his son kept visiting every week. Then, one evening, they invited Brother Camela again, and he said, “Yes, tomorrow I’m going to church.” And he did.
“He has kept coming!” says Brother Toriz. “And listen to this,” he adds with a chuckle, “he and his family always arrive before the meeting starts. That makes me very happy!”
“Well, I want to be there to take the emblems of the sacrament. That’s the main purpose,” Brother Camela replies.
After so much time and so many invitations, why did he finally decide to go back to church? “I was unhappy with my life,” he replies. “Then my friend Brother Toriz kept coming every week and inviting me, and I went! All I needed was somebody to push me!
“My hope now is to be sealed to my wife and children. As Brother Toriz says, I should take the opportunity now while they’re still at home. My oldest son and daughter are planning to go on missions.”
He looks over at his home teacher. “Brother Toriz has always been my brother.” (See: “A Little Encouragement.”)

The apple went spinning to the ground. Clint was getting pretty good with his homemade slingshot. He had made it from a strong Y-shaped stick and a thick rubber band and had been practicing with it all day. Now his aim was good enough to knock an apple right out of a tree.
He saw a car coming down the road and wondered if he could hit a moving target as small as a taillight on a car. He closed one eye, pulled the rock back to his ear, and let it go. Crack! The sound of breaking plastic and glass was followed by the tinkle of pieces of glass and plastic hitting the pavement. Clint gasped. He’d actually hit the taillight of that car!
In a panic, he dropped his slingshot and scooted up the apple tree, hiding among the leaves. The car screeched to a stop, and a man jumped out. He walked around to look at his broken light, then glared straight at Clint’s hiding place.
“I know you’re up there!” he bellowed. “I saw you. You’d better get down here before I call the police!”
Clint didn’t move. He recognized the man. It was Brother Ernest, who always complained about how noisy the kids were when he went to church. Clint did not want to talk to him.
After a few minutes, Brother Ernest got back into his car and drove away. Clint waited a long time. It was nearly dark when he finally climbed down. He picked up his slingshot, pulled off the rubber band, then flung the stick into the bushes and walked slowly down the road, feeling worse with every step. By the time he got home, he was miserable, and it showed.
“What’s wrong?” Clint’s mother asked when he came into the house. Feeling that he could carry the burden no further, he blurted out everything. His mother put a hand on his shoulder. “What do you think you should do now?” she asked softly.
“I know what I need to do,” Clint said. “I just don’t want to do it.”
She nodded. “It’s hard to make things right when you’ve done wrong. But if you do your part, the Lord will take care of the rest. And you’ll feel good again. I’ll drive you to Brother Ernest’s house, if that will make it any easier.”
Without a word, Clint went out to the car. When they arrived at Brother Ernest’s house, he saw the car with its broken taillight in the driveway. He was relieved that there were no police cars.
The house was dark, and he had a glimmer of hope that maybe Brother Ernest wasn’t home. Clint slowly climbed the front steps and rang the doorbell. A dog barked. The porch light suddenly came on, and the door was flung open.
There stood Brother Ernest. “Ah-ha! You’ve come to pay your dues!”
“S-sorry about your car light, B-brother Ernest,” Clint stammered. “I’ll pay you for it.”
“You bet you will! I’ll send the bill to your parents, and if you don’t pay, I’m calling the police.” He slammed the door and turned off the light, leaving Clint standing alone in the dark.
It took Clint more than three months to repay his parents. It took all his allowance, all his paper-route money, plus anything extra he earned doing chores. But at last the bill was paid in full. And Clint discovered that his mother had been right. He did feel good again. He was glad that he had done the right thing. He was particularly glad the next time he saw Brother Ernest. …
It was Clint’s first Sunday as a deacon, and he and another deacon, Dan, were assigned to collect fast offerings. He was surprised when the second house they visited was Brother Ernest’s. It was shabbier than Clint remembered. The front step was warped, and the porch light was broken. Seeing the porch light brought back all those memories about the broken car light. He wondered briefly if someone had broken the porch light with a slingshot and hadn’t repaired it. Suddenly he felt sorry for Brother Ernest.
“This one’s yours,” Dan whispered, handing Clint the fast-offering envelope. Clint took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and rang the doorbell.
There was a sound of movement within the house. Then the front door opened slowly and Brother Ernest peered out. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly.
Clint swallowed hard. “We’re from the Church, Brother Ernest. We’re collecting fast offerings.”
“Don’t you people ever give up?” Brother Ernest grumbled. “Go away and stop bothering me.”
Clint was turning away when the front door suddenly opened wide, and Brother Ernest stepped out onto the porch. He peered closely at Clint. “Don’t I know you, boy?”
Clint stood up straighter. “Yes, sir.”
“Weren’t you that boy who—”
“Who bought you a new taillight? Yes, sir, I am.”
Brother Ernest stared at him in surprise for a few moments and then did something Clint had never seen him do before. He smiled. “You’ve changed, boy,” he said.
Clint shrugged. “When we do our part, the Lord takes care of the rest.”
Brother Ernest seemed to ponder Clint’s words a moment. He nodded. “You keep your envelope. I’ll pay my offerings next week at church. And I expect to see you there, too, young man. I don’t want to find you hiding in some apple tree.”
Clint smiled. “I don’t need to hide anymore.”

“Father grew up on a farm, the oldest of eleven children. He has always taught us the value of hard work. He tells us of the fun they used to have on bobsled rides when he was a young boy and about how beautiful his mother was, especially her long hair which she brushed every night. She never came out of her room in the morning until she was immaculately dressed. He said his mother never raised her voice, as far as he could remember, except one time when Father caught his finger in the wringer washer and she ran outdoors shouting for his father to come in quickly to help.”

I think of such a man I once knew, not a member of the Church. He was a graduate of a great university. His potential was unlimited. As a young man with an excellent education and a tremendous opportunity, he dreamed of the stars and moved in that direction. In the company which employed him in those early years, he was promoted from one responsibility to another, each with improved opportunity over the last. Before many years had passed, he was in the top echelon of his company. But those promotions brought him into the cocktail circuit. He could not handle it, as so many others cannot. He became an alcoholic, the victim of an appetite he could not control. He sought help but was too proud to discipline himself in the regimen imposed upon him by those who tried to assist him.

He went down like a falling star, tragically burning out and disappearing in the night. I made inquiry of one friend after another and finally learned the truth of his tragic end. He, who had begun with such high aim and impressive talent, had died on skid row in one of our large cities. He had felt certain of his strength and of his capacity to live up to his potential. But he had denied that capacity; and I am confident that as the shadows of his failure closed around him, he must have gone out and wept bitterly.

When I was dating, I was seeking an eternal companion who would be a noble father. Since I grew up without that example in my childhood, it was harder for me to know all the characteristics that a noble earthly father should have. I was disappointed that my patriarchal blessing did not give more detailed direction about the person Heavenly Father wanted me to marry. It said only that I should seek someone who could take me to the temple. But even this seemingly simple instruction was challenged. Although I had some positive dating experiences, I often worried that either such a man did not truly exist or I was meant to suffer endless trials of the heart.
Despite my experience-driven anxiety, I continued to pray for a husband who would be a righteous father for my children, who would love them and stay present in their lives. Like my faithful mother, I knew that no matter what happened, I would be able to lean on my Eternal Father for support.
To my surprise and delight, my prayers were answered on Heavenly Father’s perfect timetable. It is healing for me to observe my husband’s loving example of what a father should be. I’m grateful he follows the examples set by prophets and apostles and that he chooses to cherish and love me unselfishly. His example as a loving husband also blesses our children. My heart is full of gratitude for his faithfulness through trials, his example of hard work, his worthiness to exercise the priesthood, and the pure, unwavering love he demonstrates as a young father.

Armed with cleaning rags, needed supplies, and lots of heart, more than 400 youth in Nampa, Idaho, set out to do some good in their community. In a citywide effort that included 20 wards and 1 branch in the 2 Nampa stakes, the youth committed a Saturday to serving. But they also spent weeks in preparation: making quilts, practicing programs, and organizing food, clothing, and toy drives. On the day of the project they did everything from stacking firewood for the elderly in their wards to filling the supply closets at shelters. Following all their service the youth got a much-deserved rest, including a testimony meeting, dinner, and a dance.

Every day we make choices. Some aren’t too important—what color backpack we carry, for example. Other choices are important—for instance, how we treat other people or whether we obey a commandment. Read the story below. You are the main character. What choices will you make?
Your mom says you may invite two friends over after school tomorrow. First you call Julie, who lives a few kilometers away. She is in your Primary class and in your class at school. Her parents say yes! She will walk home with you; her parents will pick her up before supper.
Next you call Tasha, a nonmember who lives just a few houses away. She can come, too. Before she hangs up the phone, though, she asks if anyone else is coming. When you tell her Julie is also coming, Tasha says, “If she is coming, I don’t want to come.”
If you say, “Julie is my friend too. Why don’t you come and get to know her better?” go to A. If you say, “OK, I’ll tell Julie that something came up and I can’t have anybody over,” go to F.
A. Tasha says, “Well, I guess I’ll still come, but don’t expect me to make friends with Julie.”
After school, Tasha and Julie walk home with you. When Julie stoops to tie her shoelace, Tasha makes an ugly face at her behind her back.
If you say, “Julie, Tasha’s making faces at you. She didn’t want you to come,” go to J. If you say nothing but give Tasha a look of disappointment, go to E.
B. When Tasha can’t hear, you whisper to Julie that Tasha didn’t want her to come and was making faces at her behind her back. Julie gets very quiet. Your get-together is no fun after that.
Surely you didn’t mean to do that! Won’t you reconsider and choose I?
C. All three of you go back to the swing and have a lot of fun. After a while, Julie’s mom picks her up and Tasha walks home. You’re glad that she and Julie have become friends.
This is the end of the story—unless you want to do a little more missionary work. If you do, go to G.
D. Tasha hides the cigarette as her mother drives past, then starts to put it in her mouth. You yell, “Stop! It really is bad for you.”
She says, “Once won’t hurt. I want to know what it tastes like.” She takes a puff and starts to cough.
When she throws the cigarette down, you stomp on it and say, “I wish you hadn’t done that. Heavenly Father doesn’t want us to hurt our bodies.”
Tasha asks, “Is Heavenly Father the same as God? How do you know that he doesn’t want us to smoke?”
If you say, “I just do, that’s all. Come on—it’s Julie’s turn on the swing,” go to C. If you say, “Because he told us so in a scripture we call the Word of Wisdom,” go to G.
E. When you get to your house, punch and cookies are on the table. They turn out to be Tasha’s and Julie’s favorite treats. As the afternoon goes on, you see that Tasha is actually being friendly to Julie. Tasha says, “Julie, I didn’t know you were such fun! You never say anything in school.”
If you suddenly feel jealous and try to discourage their growing friendship, go to B. If you try to help them become better friends, go to I.
F. Julie doesn’t come, because she thinks your mom changed her mind about your having friends over. You and Tasha have a good time, except you feel guilty about lying to Julie. Later, Julie finds out that Tasha was at your house, and her feelings are really hurt. Your friendship is never the same. You are sad that you lost a good friend.
You can’t make such a bad decision so soon—repent and go to A.
G. “What’s the Word of Wisdom?” Tasha asks.
“It’s a scripture that teaches us not to smoke and not to drink coffee, tea, beer, or wine—stuff like that. And not to do drugs.”
Julie adds, “It teaches us to eat fruits and vegetables and grains—you know, healthy food.”
“So do you two go to the same church?” Tasha asks. When you both nod, she looks down. “I don’t go to church, except when I visit my grandma. What do you do at your church?”
“Well,” you answer, “we have Primary every Sunday. We have a lesson and learn about Jesus Christ. We sing songs and have a lot of fun. Oh, and we have special activity days sometimes.”
Julie says, “It’s really neat! Do you want to come with us this Sunday?”
“Do I have to wear a dress?” Tasha asks.
“We always do,” you tell her. “I’m always glad I do—it feels right, somehow.”
Tasha shrugs. “I guess it won’t hurt me to dress up. Sure—I’ll ask Mom if I can go.”
Congratulations! You made important choices—and you made the right ones!
H. You put the cigarette to your mouth. Even though you don’t breathe it in deeply, it tastes terrible. You are still holding it when Tasha’s mom drives by. She stops the car, tells Tasha to get in, and says to you, “Don’t expect Tasha to come over anymore.”
You feel awful. When your eyes meet Julie’s, you see that she is very disappointed in you. You promise that you’ll never do anything like that again. Julie gives you a weak smile and says, “I believe you, but I don’t think Tasha’s mom ever will.”
This is your last chance to get this story on the “right-choice” track. Hurry to D!
I. You suggest that you all play on the swing. Tasha has the first turn. As Julie climbs on for her turn, a car full of teenagers drives by. One of them flips a cigarette on the curb. Tasha runs to pick it up. “It’s still lit!” She turns to you and says, “I dare you to try it!”
If you say, “No, I don’t do that kind of stuff, and I hope you don’t either, because it’s bad for you,” go to D. If you say, “Well, maybe just one puff—but you’d better not tell anyone!” go to H.
J. Julie gets tears in her eyes and doesn’t say anything. Tasha says, “Thanks a lot, Big Mouth,” and goes home. You and Julie have fun playing, but you get a knot in your stomach when you think about Tasha’s angry eyes. The next day in school, Tasha won’t even speak to you.
Not again! Aren’t you glad that this is just a story? Change your choice to E.

One day my companion and I did a lot of walking. All our appointments had fallen through, and this area had not had a baptism for nine months. But we were not discouraged—on the contrary, we had a great challenge before us!

As we walked, we both felt inspired to visit a lady we had met days before. When we got close to her house, we felt led to her neighbor’s home. Her neighbor very willingly listened to us, and we both felt the Spirit while we told her about God and Jesus Christ and the role of Joseph Smith.

After a while, I gave her a copy of the Book of Mormon. When I did, she explained, “My father was killed a month ago. He was a member of your Church. Although he did not go to church very regularly, he loved the gospel.” Then, as if it were nothing, she added, “He appeared to me in a dream and told me someone would give me a book. He begged me not to reject it for anything because in it I would find the right way!” Then she continued, “Now I know you are the ones from my dream.” I was astonished, but I felt very encouraged to know that there is missionary work on both sides of the veil.

On October 5, 2017, a year and two months into my mission was the day I received news from my mission president that my mom had passed on the day before. The pain I felt was beyond explanation, I was tempted to tell my mission president that I wanted to go home. My mission president and wife, being the loving parents they are, asked that I stay with them a few days at the mission home with hopes that I would be comforted.
In the course of my stay, my mission president gave me a priesthood blessing and I was prompted to revisit some of the scriptures my mission president had expounded during one of our zone conferences on the plan of salvation and so I did. I read Alma 42:6 that reminded me that death is inevitable and that “it was appointed unto man to die.” I also read Alma 40:11–12 where it teaches that a righteous soul who crosses the veil will be in a state of rest and peace.
As I read, I felt my pain waning gradually and I continued to read it repeatedly. I was reminded that my mom was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who had gone through the ordinances of baptism and receiving the Holy Ghost by my hand two years before her passing. That reminder kept me going and I left the mission home the next day to return to proselyting.
As I kept teaching the plan of salvation to my investigators from the Book of Mormon, my joy knew no bounds. Thanks to the Book of Mormon, I have moved on and am almost done with my mission. I am more than grateful for the principles taught in the Book of Mormon indeed, it contains the fullness of the gospel, for I have received a witness of its truthfulness.

“I first heard about the Church from my best friend, Vera, who is 16. I was curious to know about her beliefs, especially why Latter-day Saints don’t drink tea and coffee and where my friend went for three hours every Sunday. I asked her to take me to church, and a month later I was baptized.
“At first I didn’t understand many things. Everything seemed to be strange and unusual, but I kept asking questions of friends and missionaries.
“Now, four months later, I reflect on the many ways I have changed since my baptism. The day of my baptism, I could feel the Holy Ghost, but I was very emotional, somewhat worried, and a little afraid. Now I can feel the peaceful, quiet influence of the Spirit, and I have what is most important—my faith in the Savior.”
Vera Terekhova,Vasiliostrovsky Branch,St. Petersburg Russia West District

Last summer a group of young women from Alpine, Utah, decided that they would become “more fit for the kingdom.” They determined to focus on the temple by walking from the Draper Utah Temple to the Salt Lake Temple, a total distance of 22 miles (35 km), just as one of the pioneers, John Rowe Moyle, had done. Brother Moyle was a stonemason who was called by the prophet, Brigham Young, to work on the Salt Lake Temple. Each week he walked the distance of 22 miles from his home to the temple. One of his jobs was to carve the words “Holiness to the Lord” on the east side of the Salt Lake Temple. It was not easy and he had many obstacles to overcome. At one point, he was kicked in the leg by one of his cows. Because it would not heal, he had to have this leg amputated. But that did not stop him from his commitment to the prophet and to work on the temple. He carved a wooden leg, and after many weeks he again walked the 22-mile distance to the temple to do the work he had committed to do.