Gospel Story Finder

“A soldier is often in a poor environment. It is unfortunate, but the worst of mankind seems to reveal itself during war. And maybe this is the reason returned servicemen don’t feel equal to returned missionaries. Missionaries are in a situation to see the most beautiful and uplifting parts of mankind; military people see the opposite. This naturally created a state of inequity in my mind; I didn’t feel as good as if I had been serving on a mission. And, of course, I wasn’t treated the same as a returned missionary. But the most important difference to me was that difference inside of me.
“For the first while it was natural for me to be hostile and suspect that people were not sincere because this is what I had been conditioned to expect. But finally I had to get hold of myself and say, ‘Look, these people are trying to help you, and they want to be your friends.’ It took me a while to realize this, but when I did, the change started happening to me, and I began to come around,” said Warren Mallen, a Vietnam veteran.

Desiree listened to her Primary teacher, Sister Ruiz, in wonder. She couldn’t believe what Sister Ruiz was saying. It seemed too good to be true. Desiree looked at the other children in her class. They didn’t seem to be as amazed as she was. Finally Desiree raised her hand. “Do you really mean it, Sister Ruiz? Would you really do anything for us?” she asked.
“Yes, Desiree.” The kind look in her teacher’s eyes, even more than her words, showed Desiree that she really meant it. But Desiree continued to wonder if it was really true. Maybe someday she would find out.
It wasn’t even a week later that Desiree was able to test her Primary teacher’s promise. One day when she came home from school, Desiree found a note taped to the front door and grabbed it. When she entered the house, no one answered her calls. The house was empty. A strange, spooky stillness surrounded her, making the hair on her neck prickle.
“Where are you, Mommy?” Desiree whispered as tears trickled down her face. She dropped her backpack on the couch and sat down next to it. Remembering the note in her hand, Desiree opened it. She recognized her mother’s handwriting, but the letters were joined together by slants. Her mother had forgotten that she couldn’t read cursive writing.
“I’ll do anything I can for you, because I love you.” The memory of her Primary teacher’s words came to Desiree’s mind. Maybe she couldn’t read cursive, but she could read typing and she could read numbers. She could find Sister Ruiz’s phone number and call her to ask for help.
When Sister Ruiz heard Desiree’s dilemma, she told her that she would be right over. To Desiree it seemed like a long time before she arrived, but even though Sister Ruiz lived in another town, she made the trip in just 10 minutes.
Desiree flung open the front door and ran down the sidewalk when she saw Sister Ruiz get out of her car. Through her tears, she handed her Primary teacher the note left by her mother.
Sister Ruiz read the note and smiled. “This says that your mommy is at your grandma’s house working on a quilt.”
Desiree suddenly remembered that her mother had told her to go to grandma’s house, just down the street, after school. She had left the note to remind Desiree but had forgotten to print it in letters Desiree could read.
“Do you want me to walk you to your grandma’s?” Sister Ruiz asked.
Desiree shook her head. She looked up at Sister Ruiz. “You drove all this way just to read a note. Thank you.”
Sister Ruiz smiled, and Desiree noticed that her eyes were glistening with tears. “This wasn’t much, Desiree. I’ll do anything I can for you.”
“It was a lot to me,” Desiree said.
Sister Ruiz hugged Desiree. “I’m glad you think so.”
Desiree carefully looked both ways before crossing the street and walking down to Grandma’s house. Sister Ruiz watched to make sure she arrived safely. Then she drove away.
“Where have you been?” Desiree’s mother asked when she walked in. “I was starting to get worried.”
“I just learned that my Primary teacher will come all the way to my house to read me a note.”
“Why didn’t you read it yourself?” Desiree’s mom asked.
“Because I can’t read cursive.”
Desiree’s mother’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “I didn’t even think about it, Desiree. I’m sorry you had to call your teacher to help you.”
“That’s OK.” Desiree grinned. “My teacher said she was glad to do it, because she loves me.”

At 12 years old, I heard people talk about inappropriate things at school. Every once in a while, some of my friends thought it was funny to show me pornographic pictures. Eventually, I got curious and was tempted to explore more. I got drawn into pornography, which took up a massive part of my life for several years. It definitely affected me a lot.
I was scared to talk to someone about my struggle with pornography because I didn’t want anyone to think of me differently. When my parents caught me and confronted me about it, I was embarrassed and felt really bad and guilty. Now, I’m glad that they did, and I wish I had told them sooner. They loved me through it and helped me overcome my struggles.
My parents encouraged me to talk to my bishop. I resisted for a while, but when I finally opened up to him, he was understanding. He taught me about the process of repentance. Over time, he helped me to repent. He encouraged me to set small goals and start good habits such as praying, reading my scriptures, and filling my time with good things. These habits could invite the Spirit and help me rely on the Savior until I wouldn’t want to look at pornography anymore.
I struggled for a while, but with the help of my parents, the bishop, and the Lord, I got through it. I still get tempted sometimes, but I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am. Now I’ve been clean for over two years. I am a lot more confident now. Throughout this journey, I have learned several important things.
In For the Strength of Youth: A Guide for Making Choices I learned that our bodies are sacred. No matter what you look like or how others may perceive you, your body is in the image of God.
Doctrine and Covenants 130:22 teaches that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ have bodies of flesh and bones, but the Holy Ghost does not. Like a temple, our bodies are also “a place where the Spirit can dwell.” We need to take care of them. I want to respect my body by keeping it clean, healthy, and worthy of having the Spirit abide with me.
I’ve also learned that sexual feelings are sacred. They are not a sin. It’s when we intentionally try to arouse them outside of marriage or act on them inappropriately that they become sinful. God wants us to have happy lives and families that we can be with forever. Sexual feelings are an important part of God’s plan. The For the Strength of Youth guide taught me that you can’t respect your body if you don’t respect those feelings.
I love music. I love to sing and listen to uplifting music like the hymns and StrivetoBe songs that help me feel the Spirit. One of my favorites is “I Can Do All Things.” This song reminds me that “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13).
Jesus Christ is my rock. He is my light. He is my Savior and Redeemer and so much more. He loves and cares for us. He wants us to succeed and do our best. He will help us no matter what. This is comforting to me because I have a lot of flaws. It is wonderful that someone so amazing loves me so much. I’m trying the best I can to be like Him—for Him.
It doesn’t matter what you may be going through or how many times you fail or fall. As you rely on the Savior and His Atonement, He will always pick you up and carry you to the finish line. I know I was only able to overcome my struggle with pornography with His help. With Jesus Christ, you really can get through anything.
The author lives in Georgia, USA.

As the newly called homemaking leader in a ward in Highland Village, Texas, Margo Merrill faced the seemingly impossible task of turning scraps of donated fabric into quilts for charity. She knew she lacked the experience to piece a quilt, but she began with what she could do: she pressed the scraps, then cut them and sorted the colors. She then brought packets of fabric to homemaking meeting, where she asked help from other sisters to arrange and sew them into tops, then quilt and bind the coverlets. The sisters gladly shared their talents, and the results pleased them all.

A time back I clipped a column from the Deseret Morning News, written by Jay Evensen. With his permission, I quote from a part of it. Wrote he:
“How would you feel toward a teenager who decided to toss a 20-pound frozen turkey from a speeding car headlong into the windshield of the car you were driving? How would you feel after enduring six hours of surgery using metal plates and other hardware to piece your face together, and after learning you still face years of therapy before returning to normal—and that you ought to feel lucky you didn’t die or suffer permanent brain damage?
“And how would you feel after learning that your assailant and his buddies had the turkey in the first place because they had stolen a credit card and gone on a senseless shopping spree, just for kicks? …
“This is the kind of hideous crime that propels politicians to office on promises of getting tough on crime. It’s the kind of thing that prompts legislators to climb all over each other in a struggle to be the first to introduce a bill that would add enhanced penalties for the use of frozen fowl in the commission of a crime.
“The New York Times quoted the district attorney as saying this is the sort of crime for which victims feel no punishment is harsh enough. ‘Death doesn’t even satisfy them,’ he said.
“Which is what makes what really happened so unusual. The victim, Victoria Ruvolo, a 44-year-old former manager of a collections agency, was more interested in salvaging the life of her 19-year-old assailant, Ryan Cushing, than in exacting any sort of revenge. She pestered prosecutors for information about him, his life, how he was raised, etc. Then she insisted on offering him a plea deal. Cushing could serve six months in the county jail and be on probation for 5 years if he pleaded guilty to second-degree assault.
“Had he been convicted of first-degree assault—the charge most fitting for the crime—he could have served 25 years in prison, finally thrown back into society as a middle-aged man with no skills or prospects.
“But this is only half the story. The rest of it, what happened the day this all played out in court, is the truly remarkable part.
“According to an account in the New York Post, Cushing carefully and tentatively made his way to where Ruvolo sat in the courtroom and tearfully whispered an apology. ‘I’m so sorry for what I did to you.’
“Ruvolo then stood, and the victim and her assailant embraced, weeping. She stroked his head and patted his back as he sobbed, and witnesses, including a Times reporter, heard her say, ‘It’s OK. I just want you to make your life the best it can be.’ According to accounts, hardened prosecutors, and even reporters, were choking back tears” (“Forgiveness Has Power to Change Future,” Deseret Morning News, Aug. 21, 2005, p. AA3).
What a great story that is, greater because it actually happened and that it happened in tough old New York. Who can feel anything but admiration for this woman who forgave the young man who might have taken her life?

Plan surprise activities. If Dad comes home from work tired and worn out, falls into his chair, and doesn’t get up until dinner, we know it’s time to plan another surprise activity. We love to kidnap Dad when he leaves from work or steps out of the car at home and take him on a family outing. Our activity might be as simple as going to a park for a picnic dinner. Sometimes we make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, throw in a bag of chips, kidnap Dad, and drive to a local point of interest. Even though they aren’t elaborate, our activities are always fun and spontaneous—and Dad loves being the center of everyone’s kidnapping scheme.

Julischka doesn’t just show her testimony—she talks about it. If friends don’t know which church she belongs to, they soon find out! “She isn’t afraid to talk about the gospel,” her dad says. “One day she came home sad because she’d had a discussion with a boy at school. He didn’t believe in Jesus.” Julischka bore her testimony to him and encouraged him to believe in Jesus Christ as the Son of God.

They have also performed for special events such as inaugurations and funerals. On September 11, 2001, the choir was scheduled to perform in the Tabernacle on Temple Square for a visiting group of conventioneers. Because of the terrorist attacks on the United States earlier that day, the performance was changed to a memorial concert. As a show of respect, President Gordon B. Hinckley asked the audience to refrain from applauding.

“Midway through the concert we sang ‘America the Beautiful,’” says choir member Stephen Stoker. “Unable to applaud, the audience stood as we began to sing. When we got to the third verse, where we sing, ‘Oh, beautiful for patriot dream that sees beyond the years, thine alabaster cities gleam, undimmed by human tears,’ we were all crying. … It was a powerful experience for all of us.”

My desire to attend the temple began one morning in December 2018. I sat in bed reading an April 1999 general conference talk by Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He spoke about the importance of being worthy to enter the temple. He said the temple “is a place of peace, solitude, and inspiration. Regular attendance will enrich your life with greater purpose.” He went on to add this stunning statement: “Go to the temple. You know it is the right thing to do. Do it now.”2
I highlighted this passage, looked at my 2019 stake calendar, and noted that my branch was scheduled to visit the Johannesburg South Africa Temple every second Friday of the month. I made a goal to go to the temple grounds at least once a month either with my branch or by myself, even though I did not yet have a temple recommend.
In early January, I spoke with my branch president about receiving a recommend and eventually entering the temple. I was eager to achieve this goal.
In August, I obtained a limited-use recommend and was able to visit the baptistry with the youth of my branch. I was baptized for my two uncles and maternal grandfather. I also started taking the temple preparation class in anticipation of receiving my endowment. Until then I continued visiting the temple and participating in baptisms.
Finally, on November 2, 2019, I entered the temple with my fiancée, and we walked out as husband and wife, sealed together for time and eternity. Words cannot express the spirit that attended this great occasion. My wife and I continued to attend the temple. We had many precious and sacred experiences until the worldwide temple closure in 2020 due to COVID-19.
Sister and Brother Mncwabe (center) on the day of their sealing, with family members.
Photograph courtesy of the Mncwabe family
My mother’s sister is not a member of the Church, but she had come to the temple for our sealing. Afterward, she shared an experience she had after visiting the temple grounds. She had a dream that she was again at the temple for our sealing, but this time all my family members (including those I had performed baptisms for) were with us. “Your mother was also there,” she said, “but she kept saying, ‘I can’t see my son. Why can’t I see my son?’”
I sobbed after hearing this, and I knew why my mother could not see me. She had passed on in 2002, and I had been procrastinating having her ordinances done for her in the temple. I resolved to do this as soon as possible. Soon I was privileged to perform her baptism and say her full name as I baptized the young woman who was acting as proxy for my mother.
I have a strong testimony that the temple is the house of God. We can access His power when we are there. I also know that the temple offers blessings to all of God’s children, whether living or dead.

Be original. Make the most of the road show theme by avoiding any obvious connections or trite treatments. For example, suppose the general road show theme is “Halos, Heroes, and ________.” First think of all the approaches that other wards or branches might use—angels, devils, pioneers, space heroes, etc. Then think of something different, something original. How about “Halos, Heroes, and HEADHUNTERS!”
How about a team of missionaries trying to convert savage headhunters in the jungle? The headhunters earn their “halos,” the missionaries become the “heroes,” and you’re off!
Back to “Halos, Heroes, and Headhunters.”
The problem: (Presented in the prologue in front of the curtain through a song, dance, and a few short lines.) A team of lady missionaries (“Salvation Marmees”) are off to the jungle again to convert the savage headhunters. The prospects look grim: “We’ve been trying for ten years and haven’t converted them yet!”
The conflict: Curtains open as a safari expedition enters the “jungle” from audience, looking for big game (song and dance). Safari is captured by headhunters and thrown into a stew or shrinking pot (another song and dance). Missionaries show up to convert headhunters (song.) Savages are angered and decide to eat missionaries (song and dance) as well as safari people.
The resolution: The terrifying ape of the jungle crashes through fake vines onto “jungle stage” and carries off savage chief. “That’s the fifth chief we’ve lost this week, and you’re gonna be next.” “Not me, you!” “Not me, you!” etc.
In desperation, savage headhunters decide to join the missionaries rather than be dinner for the gorilla (song and dance). They earn their “halos” just in time to take safari folks from shrinking pot. Of course the safari people now consider the missionaries their heroes for saving them and converting the headhunters, and everyone is happy (finale; song and dance). Curtains close.
Notice that this road show has a main plot (missionaries versus savages) and a subplot (savages versus safari) for added excitement. But the story and action are still simple to follow.
On paper, this plot (of an actual award-winning road show) may sound “corny.” On stage, with fluorescent-painted scenery, fluorescent makeup, black lights, and clever costuming, it was an audience winner.
Countermelodies are impressive too, that is, when two groups are singing different melodies and different words at the same time.
For example, the childhood tune, “Horsey, Horsey” was used effectively in “Halos, Heroes, and Headhunters.” The missionaries sang the first verse alone:
Natives, natives, join our group.
Before you make us into soup.
So let us shake your hand
And be your friend,
You’ll get a halo in the end!
Then the headhunters sang:
We’d like to take our salt and pepper,
We’d like to sharpen up our knives,
We’d like to have you for our dinner,
You’d better run to save your lives.
Then both groups sang their own verses at the same time.
A ward in Norfolk, Virginia, used simple effects like a carbon dioxide tank (these can be rented inexpensively) to make “smoke” appear at the base of a spaceship. The “Halos, Heroes, and Headhunters” crew had steam boil up and over the stew pot as the safari men were thrown in!
The use of a black light is very effective also. As the curtains opened on “Halos, Heroes, and Headhunters,” the scenery painted in fluorescent paint shone so beautifully under the black lights that the audience applauded the set!
9. And finally, remember imagination and creativity. Use appropriate humor. Puns are effective because they are short and easy to understand. The action should produce meaningful humor, not slapstick comedy. For example, the “Headhunter” script called for a stew pot or “shrinking pot,” into which three large safari men were thrown at the show’s beginning. At the end of the show, out came the three boys—only this time they were replaced by three short boys wearing the larger clothing so it dragged on the floor. The only dialogue was one line to their rescuers, “You came just in time!” No other explanation was necessary. The audience got the point and the humor, and they loved it!

Years ago as a young elder, I was called with others to a hospital in Salt Lake City to provide blessings for sick children. Upon entering, we noted a Christmas tree with its bright and friendly lights and saw carefully wrapped packages beneath its outstretched limbs. We then went through corridors where small boys and girls—some with plaster casts upon an arm or leg, others with ailments that perhaps could not be cured so readily—greeted us with smiling faces.
A young, desperately ill small boy called out to me, “What is your name?”
I told him my name, and he inquired, “Will you give me a blessing?”
The blessing was provided, and as we turned to leave his bedside, he said, “Thank you very much.”
We walked a few steps, and then I heard him call, “Oh, Brother Monson, merry Christmas to you.” Then a great smile flashed across his countenance.
That boy had the spirit of Christmas. The spirit of Christmas is something I hope all of us would have in our hearts and lives—not only at this particular season but also throughout the year.

“When I worked at the candy shop,” his older sister began, “I practically ate my paycheck each week in candy. I couldn’t help myself, it tasted so good. Finally after praying about it, I decided to set a candy quota for each day. If I stuck to my quota, I rewarded myself by taking the money I would have spent on candy and putting it toward a new pair of jeans. Some days I didn’t make it, but gradually I ate less candy. And I got the jeans!”

Kent Bates, 15, has accomplished what few others have done. He has earned all 119 merit badges offered in the Scouting program. Kent is in the Heber City Fifth Ward, Heber City Utah Stake.
It all started when Kent and his friend, Loy Young, decided to see who could earn all the merit badges first. After much hard work and study, Kent completed his goal with Loy not far behind. Kent earned his first merit badge in swimming and his last in masonry. He built a brick fireplace in his backyard.
Some of the most difficult merit badges for Kent were in signaling and oceanography. He enjoyed learning about oceanography so much that he is joining a Sea Explorers unit. The merit badges he enjoyed the most were in bugling, theater, waterskiing, and small boat sailing.
Kent says that Scouting has played an important role in his life. “I plan to finish high school and then serve a mission. When I return, I want to get back into Scouting and help other boys just as my merit badge counselors did me.”

As a missionary, Elder Eves spent mornings tutoring trainees who were working on their high school certificates or an equivalent diploma. “I could not have passed my math section without him,” says Brandy, a single mother working to improve her employment skills.
But David’s tutoring wasn’t just about teaching educational skills. He also taught the missionary discussions to Rita Roberts, another trainee. “He helped me understand the gospel step by step,” Rita says. “And I knew I could count on him for anything. He and his family helped me move twice. You couldn’t find a better person—not just in the classroom, but anywhere. He’s unique.”

In her lifetime, Emmeline met and talked with six presidents of the United States. She spoke with two of these presidents in the White House on behalf of the Church. She hoped to lighten legislation against Latter-day Saints.

In January 1879, Emmeline and Zina Young Williams presented a message to members of Congress and to President Rutherford B. Hayes and his wife. Emmeline and Zina spoke against bills aimed to punish Church members in the Utah Territory for their religious beliefs. They also asked for consideration of wives and children who would be harmed by measures to send men to prison for participating in plural marriage.9 Emmeline wrote, “I thank God I was the first to represent our women in the Halls of Congress.”10

Seven years later, Emmeline traveled to Washington, DC, USA, with a similar purpose. She met with congressmen and senators. She talked with Rose Cleveland (the president’s sister and Acting First Lady) and then spoke with President Grover Cleveland himself. Emmeline and Dr. Ellen Ferguson represented the Latter-day Saint women of the Utah Territory and presented him a memorial plea urging fairness for the Saints in political matters.11

In these efforts, Emmeline was supported by leaders of the National Woman Suffrage Association, particularly by Susan B. Anthony, who greeted her warmly whenever they met and emphasized their common interest in improving the lives of women.12

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.

When these five deacons heard how President Russell M. Nelson climbs stairs two at a time1, they decided to start jogging stairs at their school’s bleachers. Can you figure out how many stair flights each deacon could do that first Saturday morning?
Clues:
Jian did six more flights of stairs than Mason.
Garret did two more flights than Jian.
Mason did half as many flights as Hector.
No two friends did the same number of flights.
# of Flights of Stairs
2
4
6
8
10
Garret
Hector
Jian
Mason
Sam
Garret, 10; Hector, 4; Jian, 8; Mason, 2; Sam, 6

“Want to try again?” Elder Higgins asked as we approached a group of houses next to a church.
I knocked on the door and stood back waiting. A tall man wearing a clerical collar opened the door and smiled at us like the cat about to eat the canary.
“What can I do for you boys?” he said with a very proper British accent. He obviously knew who we were.
I glanced at the mailbox as I swallowed and stepped back. “The Reverend Richard Cutts, Ph.D.,” it said.
What could I say to this man? How could I challenge what he believed? I whispered a quick prayer. I could see Elder Higgins getting ready to jump in.
It’s funny how much can go through your mind in a few seconds. I thought of my first Primary teacher, Oma Santos, telling the story of Moses and the burning bush; my Sunday School teacher, Cloe Davis, explaining the importance of Joseph Smith’s first vision; Velda Dalton teaching about the Sermon on the Mount; and my Uncle Elton talking about the restoration of the priesthood in deacons class. I grew up in a small town in southern Utah. None of my teachers had Ph.D. behind their name. None of them read Greek or Latin like Reverend Cutts most likely did. But it didn’t matter. What they knew was much more important.
“I’m Elder Roberts,” I said, feeling for the first time the strength and importance of what I’d been taught, what I was here to teach. “This is Elder Higgins, and we’d like to tell you about the gospel of Jesus Christ.”
The expression on Reverend Cutts’s face changed. He looked a little surprised. “Come on in,” he said, smiling.

Karate instructor Mark Tyson couldn’t believe it when a “skinny little blond-headed kid” entered his gym and began winning competitions. But Joshua Bosse, Australian junior middleweight full contact champ, could. The 16-year-old priest attributes his discipline and fitness to following Church standards.
“Keeping the Word of Wisdom gives me an edge over my opponents who don’t,” says Joshua, who is an active seminary student in Tamworth, New South Wales. “The Church is great!”

It was late August. There were no clouds, only a white-hot sun in a colorless sky. Elder Rowan and his companion walked out of the sun into the shade of a maple tree. The leaves on the tree were curled in from the heat and wilted. It was hot in the shade. He ran his hand along his moist neck. They were close to the coast, and the air was humid. The heat seemed to press down on him. He opened a black folder and read:
247 Lincoln St.
Mrs. Demart
placed one Book of Mormon
Aug. 23rd.
He looked at the numbers on the house, 247 Lincoln Street.
“This is it.”
Elder Anderson nodded. “It’s your door.”
He rang the bell and waited. Elder Anderson straightened his tie. A tall, dark haired woman answered and Elder Rowan smiled.
“Good afternoon.”
The woman smiled politely. “Yes?”
“I’m Elder Rowan and this is Elder Anderson,” he said. “We talked to you about a week ago.”
“Oh yes. I remember. You loaned me a book.”
She turned and disappeared into the room and returned carrying a Book of Mormon.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to read in it.”
She handed the book to Elder Rowan.
Elder Rowan felt his throat tighten and cleared it. He ran his thumb along the edge of the book. How many times had this happened in the last six months? How can I get her, get any of the people in this town, to understand? he thought.
“This book tells of a visit the Savior made to the people of ancient America,” he said.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t read it. I’m just not interested. I have my own religion.” She smiled and closed the door.
At least she’s honest about it, he thought. Many people take the book without ever intending to read it and either throw it away or leave it untouched in some bookcase.
“Well, that’s the last referral.” He looked at Elder Anderson and then at his watch. “Let’s go back to the apartment.”
Elder Anderson looked down at his watch. “We can still get in an hour of door contacting.”
“It’s too hot now,” Elder Rowan answered. “Maybe when it cools off.”
Elder Anderson was silent for a long moment. “Okay,” he said.
The apartment was hot, cooler than being outside but still hot. Elder Rowan sank back into a chair. Elder Anderson took a pitcher of cold water from the refrigerator and stirred in some frozen lemonade. He poured the lemonade into two glasses and handed Elder Rowan one.
“We’ve got to keep trying,” he said.
Elder Rowan nodded. “Maybe, when it gets cooler.”
It seemed hopeless. For the last six months they had knocked on nearly every door in the town with no success, nothing, not even a good discussion. Elder Rowan loosened his tie. He felt empty. He had always dreamed of going on a mission, and now he was on it and nothing was happening.
Elder Anderson set his glass down. “I’ll go check the mail,” he said.
He disappeared into the hall and returned holding a white envelope. “It’s for you.”
Elder Rowan looked at it. It had the mission home letterhead stamped on it. He opened it. It was a transfer notice effective the next day.
“It’s a transfer notice,” he said and smiled.
“Where to?” Elder Anderson asked.
“North Lubeck.”
“That’s a good area. They do a lot of baptizing down there.”
Elder Rowan smiled again. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’ll want to say some good-byes tonight, I guess?”
Elder Rowan nodded.
“I’ll fix some sandwiches, and we can get started.”
Elder Anderson cracked eggs into a frying pan and spread mayonnaise on slices of bread. Elder Rowan sank back in the chair, putting his feet up, watching. The transfer was what he had wanted, but he still felt empty. The past six months, half a year of his life and one quarter of his mission, seemed to have been wasted. It wasn’t that he hadn’t worked hard, because he had. It was just that they had had no success.
“It’s ready,” Elder Anderson said, dropping a pickle on a plate with an egg sandwich.
The combination of the scrambled egg sandwich and sweet pickle and sour lemonade tasted good. Elder Rowan hadn’t realized how hungry he had been. He was eating the second half of his sandwich when someone knocked on the door. Elder Anderson opened it. A short, sun-browned man stood in the doorway holding a hat in both hands. His hands were large and bent and cracked with deep black lines. They were strong hands. The man smiled broadly, revealing an uneven row of teeth. His eyes sparkled.
“Do Elder Thompson and Elder Rowan live here?” he asked.
Elder Rowan stood.
“I’m Elder Rowan, and this is Elder Anderson,” he said. “Elder Thompson left several months ago. What can we do for you?”
The man smiled. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn book and held it up.
“I’m in charge of the city dump,” he said. “I found this here book on the edge of one of the piles. I don’t know why, but I started reading it.” The man hesitated and rubbed his mouth with his hand. “There’s something about it I can’t explain. I just got to find out more about it and about this Joseph Smith. I was wondering if maybe you could come and tell me and my family about it sometime or if maybe we could come down to your church or something?”
“When would you like us to come?” Elder Anderson asked.
“How about tomorrow night?”
Elder Anderson smiled. “That would be great.”
The man reached out and shook both of their hands.
“I’ve got to get home now,” he said. “I live at 290 Washington Street. What time will you come?”
“Is eight o’clock okay?”
“Yeah. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Elder Rowan and Elder Anderson stood staring at the door.
“Can you believe that?” Elder Anderson turned and looked at Elder Rowan.
“I kind of hate to leave,” Elder Rowan said. “But I think I understand now. When the pioneers crossed the plains they planted wheat along the trail that would be harvested the following year by other pioneers. Some of what we’ve planted here won’t be harvested for months or even years. I guess the important thing is just to do the work.”
He reached down and picked up a Book of Mormon.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I think we have time to knock on a few doors before it gets dark.”