Gospel Story Finder

A few months later, I felt encouraged when I opened a Church magazine and found a Mormon Message: “No matter what your past has been, you have a spotless future” (Tambuli, September 1989, 47). But still I was so depressed and full of anger that one day I decided to try to be happy by living my life the world’s way. That very day I had an experience that changed my life. I felt as if something or somebody touched me on the shoulder. I looked back, and nobody was there. I felt a little bit afraid. A little while later, I felt the same thing again, but this time the force on my shoulder was so powerful that I fell to my knees. I began to cry. For the first time in years, I prayed. I don’t know how much time I spent on my knees, but I eventually fell asleep. When I woke up, my mother asked what had happened. I told her I felt as though I had been asleep all my life and had only now opened my eyes.
I found the Book of Mormon and began to read. When I finished reading, I prayed with all my heart. I felt a warmth in my heart and a burning in my chest.
My life turned around. I began to pray, fast, bear my testimony, preach the gospel to my coworkers, pay tithing, and read and study the holy scriptures. I felt happy and close to my Heavenly Father. One day I talked to my branch president about serving a mission, and he eventually sent in my mission papers.
The members of my district were happy when they learned I had received a call to the México Chihuahua Mission. Some people were amazed.
The last Sunday before leaving on my mission, I bore my testimony. I said that everybody can change. Alma the Younger changed; the sons of King Mosiah changed; Zeezrom changed; Paul changed; and I changed.
While serving my full-time mission I witnessed the power of love and had the privilege of bringing souls to our Heavenly Father.
After returning, I married Erika Mendoza in the Dallas Texas Temple. We are both busily involved in callings in Sunday School and Young Women.
Whenever I see a picture of Peter walking over the water to reach Jesus but falling into the deep sea, I put myself in Peter’s place (see Matt. 14:22–33). Sometimes I feel myself faltering, and I pray that—just as he did for Peter—the Lord will reach out his hand to catch me so that I can keep walking toward him.
I will never forget what the Lord has done for me in healing my soul. I know he loves all of his children, and I’m grateful knowing that no matter what our pasts have been, our futures are spotless.

Such a fracture developed between two heroes of the Restoration of the Church of Jesus Christ in these latter days. Parley and Orson Pratt were brothers, early converts, and ordained Apostles. Each faced a trial of faith but came through with an unshakable testimony. Both sacrificed and contributed greatly for the cause of truth.
During the Nauvoo era, their relationship became strained, culminating in a heated, public confrontation in 1846. A deep and prolonged rift developed. Parley initially wrote to Orson to resolve the rift, but Orson did not reply. Parley gave up, feeling that correspondence was over forever, unless initiated by Orson.
Several years later, in March 1853, Orson learned about a project to publish a book on the descendants of William Pratt, the brothers’ earliest American ancestor. Orson began to weep “like a little child” as he glimpsed this treasure trove of family history. His heart melted, and he determined to repair the breach with his brother.
Orson wrote to Parley, “Now my dear brother, there are none among all the descendants of our Ancestor, Lieut[enant] William Pratt, who have so deep an interest in searching out his descendants as ourselves.” Orson was one of the first to understand that Latter-day Saints have an obligation to research and compile family histories so that we can perform vicarious ordinances for our ancestors. His letter continued: “We know that the God of our fathers has had a hand in all this. … I will beg pardon for having been so backward in writing to you. … I hope you will forgive me.” Despite their unshakable testimonies, their love for their ancestors was the catalyst to heal a rift, mend a hurt, and seek and extend forgiveness.
When God directs us to do one thing, He often has many purposes in mind. Family history and temple work is not only for the dead but blesses the living as well. For Orson and Parley, it turned their hearts to each other. Family history and temple work provided the power to heal that which needed healing.

Remember that those who climb to high places did not always have it easy. We are told that when Abraham Lincoln was a young man, he ran for the legislature in Illinois and was badly “swamped.”
He next entered business, failed, and spent 17 years of his life paying up the debts of a worthless partner. He fell in love with a beautiful young woman, to whom he became engaged, then she died. Entering politics, he ran for congress and was badly defeated. He tried to get an appointment to the U.S. land office but failed. He became a candidate for the U.S. Senate and was badly defeated. Then in 1856 he became a candidate for vice-president and was again defeated. In 1858 he was defeated by Douglas, but in the face of all this defeat and failure, he eventually achieved the highest success attainable in life and undying fame to the end of time. This was the Abraham Lincoln who was president of the United States. This was the Abraham Lincoln about whom numerous books have been written. This was the Abraham Lincoln who carved his own success out of the mountains of difficulty.

Accepting President Hinckley’s challenge to read the Book of Mormon by the end of last year, the young women of the Fayetteville First Ward in Arkansas decided to mark their progress with quilting squares. The young women sewed the squares together and created quilts to give away to a home for neglected and abused children.
Each square on every quilt represented 40 chapters read from the Book of Mormon. So with just a little math—7 quilts, each with 16 squares, each square representing 40 chapters—we have 4,480 chapters. “Not only were our testimonies increased,” says Linda Connor, the ward Young Women president, “we were able to serve others through this project.”

Let’s hurry along to Redwood Road. There is a much larger home here where many widows reside. Most are seated in the well-lighted living room. But in her bedroom, alone, is one on whom I must call. She hasn’t spoken a word since a devastating stroke some years ago. But then, who knows what she hears?—so I speak of good times together. There isn’t a flicker of recognition, not a word spoken. In fact, an attendant asks if I am aware that this patient hasn’t uttered a word for years. It made no difference. Not only had I enjoyed my one-sided conversation with her—I had communed with God.

“We are going to Arizona because the prophet called us to go,” Mother explained. “Remember my telling you about when I was your age and my family lived in Nauvoo? After the Prophet Joseph Smith was killed, there were contentions with our neighbors. The Brethren told us to leave our homes and move west. There our lives would be spared, and we could worship in peace.
“It was terrible to leave our home, but there was nothing else to do unless we turned away from God, the Brethren, and the Church. We made the long, hard journey to Salt Lake. We sacrificed again when we followed President Young’s direction to leave there and settle here.
“Now we have been asked to go to Arizona. We do not have to go. No one is forcing us. We are not fleeing for our lives. We could find reasons not to go. This time the struggle to obey comes from within.”
Mother hugged me as she continued. “The Lord said that when we receive a commandment ‘whether by [His] own voice or by the voice of [His] servants, it is the same’ (D&C 1:38). Our prophet has spoken to us. I know he speaks for God. Your father and I decided long ago to follow the prophet, no matter what the sacrifice.”
The Spirit warmed me as I listened to Mother’s testimony. I felt strengthened for the uncertainties ahead.
As I climbed into the loaded wagon, I took one last look at our old home, then turned to face the trail to Arizona. I realized that I, too, had a testimony of God’s representative on earth. Like my parents, I decided I would follow the prophet—even to the last frontier.

“We get to hear the prophet speak today!” Chase said to his little sister, Amelie.
Amelie was excited too. They had learned about prophets in family home evening just last Monday. A prophet is a person who has been called by God and speaks for Him. The prophet receives commandments and revelations from God and then shares them with Heavenly Father’s children. Mom had shown Chase and Amelie pictures of President Monson. They decided to draw their own pictures of the prophet too.
Now Chase and Amelie were going to a devotional to hear President Thomas S. Monson speak to them.
“Let’s bring our pictures,” Chase said.
Chase and Amelie took their pictures of President Monson off the refrigerator door.
“This is going to be more fun than the circus or the zoo!” Chase said.
When they got to the devotional, Chase and Amelie stared at all the people in the huge stadium. Almost all of the seats were filled. Chase and Amelie had to sit behind the stand. All they could see was the back of President Monson’s head.
President Monson spoke about prophets God had called in the latter days. The prophets were righteous men who followed God.
After the closing prayer, President Monson turned to leave the stadium. He headed right toward Chase and Amelie! They excitedly held up their pictures so President Monson could see them.
President Monson smiled when he saw Chase and Amelie’s pictures.
“Oh, how nice,” he said. “How about a high five?” President Monson held up his hand to Chase and Amelie.
Chase and Amelie each gave President Monson a high five. They were so happy to meet the prophet. They truly knew that he was a prophet of God.

We won the game, four to three, and I kicked in one of the goals myself! After the game Gracie walked over to me. “Tell me some more about your church, Ryan,” she said.

I told her about the Articles of Faith, which is what Sister Adams says that we should do if someone wants to know what the Church teaches. But Gracie didn’t seem to understand them at all, so I started telling her about Primary.

“Can any kid go to Primary, or just kids in your church?” she asked.

“Anybody who wants to,” I answered. She just stood there, waiting, so I took a deep breath and asked, “Would you like to go to Primary with me tomorrow?”

She smiled a big smile. “I’ll ask my dad.”

Oh, brother! Another girl! I thought. I was glad that Gracie wanted to go to church, but why hadn’t Kevin reacted like this? Gracie’s father said that it was OK for her to go with me, so I told him what time Primary started and when I’d pick her up. She drove off, waving at me from the window of her dad’s van.

That night Mom and Dad came into my room for my prayers. When I was done, Mom kissed my cheek and said, “We’re really proud of our missionary.”

“Don’t be,” I said.

“Why?” Dad asked.

“Because I wasn’t really a missionary to Gracie. She practically had to beg me to invite her to Primary. I didn’t want another girl in my class—I wanted Kevin to come. Why didn’t he want to go to Primary and learn more about the gospel?”

“Even Last-days Kids have their free agency,” Mom said. “Don’t give up on Kevin yet. And don’t stop being his friend just because he isn’t interested in going to church with you.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said.

“Good.” Dad smiled. “I’m proud of you.” And he kissed me good night.

Our lesson in Primary the next day was about the Word of Wisdom. Gracie sat and listened hard to everything Sister Adams said. Lisa and Tina-Marie were quiet too. It was a good lesson. After Primary Mom asked Gracie if she wanted to go home.

“Are you going home?” she asked.

“No. We’re going to stay for sacrament meeting,” Mom answered. “But if you’d like to go home now, I’ll take you.”

“Am I allowed to go to sacrament meeting?” Gracie asked.

“Of course,” Mom answered.

“Then I’d like to stay, please,” Gracie said.

Dad squeezed my arm, his smile almost too big for his face.

After church we dropped Gracie off at her house. “See you at soccer practice,” she said as she hopped out of the car.

“Will you need a ride to church next Sunday?” Dad asked.

“No. I don’t think so.” The whole mood in the car went down like a flat tire on a bicycle. Then Gracie leaned in through my open window. “Last night Mom and Dad and I had a big talk. Mom’s been wanting to find a church to go to ever since we moved here. And Dad said that he’s always been impressed with Ryan. So they said that if I liked your church, next Sunday they’d go with me.”

I was just starting my junior year of high school. The homecoming dance was approaching and I was so excited to get asked. There were several people I wanted to go with, and I couldn’t wait to be asked by a cute, fun guy.
One day, I was about to walk into my English class when a senior boy, Chris, stopped me. “Meagan, will you go to homecoming with me?”
Chris has Asperger’s syndrome, a form of autism that makes social interaction difficult, and he was constantly bullied and teased. I was about to turn him down, but then something stopped me—a sentence I remembered from my patriarchal blessing. As I looked into Chris’s hopeful eyes, I said, “I’ll let you know, Chris.”
I soon realized how selfish I sounded. God had not given me a trial. He had given me an opportunity to serve Chris. When I told Chris yes, I watched joy come over his face.
As the dance neared, I began to worry because I thought our date might be awkward. The day of the dance came, and as I picked up Chris to meet our group, he met me at his door with flowers. These were the first flowers anyone had ever given me. He ran to open my car door, and he was a true gentleman.
As we arrived at the restaurant, we were a little early, and I had the opportunity to talk with Chris. I learned that Chris had been through a lot of hard trials. I felt guilty for all the times I’d laughed when others teased him. The group arrived, we ate, and then we went ice blocking. Every time I went down the hill, Chris ran down, carried the ice block up the hill for me, fixed the towel, and set it up for me to go down again. I’d never been treated like such a princess!
Later, as we entered the dance, I watched as a group of guys gathered around Chris and began to shove him, mock him, and dance around him. “Stop!” I yelled as I began to cry. I thought this was going to end in disaster. Then several guys from our group stepped in and moved the crowd away from Chris.
As the guys left, Chris came over to me and asked if I was OK. I’d stood here watching him get teased and mocked, and he wanted to know if I was OK! Who was this guy?
After the dance, I took Chris home. While we were driving, I felt truly humbled. I’d gone on this date thinking I would be helping Chris, when he’d really been helping me. Going to the dance with Chris taught me how wrong we are when we judge others unrighteously. God loves Chris just as much as He loves everyone else. I’d been so busy looking at the outside that I’d looked past the wonderful inside attributes Chris possessed. I believe all of God’s children have attributes like that. No matter how different people may appear to be, they still have feelings and God loves them just the same. I thank Heavenly Father for the opportunity I had to go to the dance with Chris. It has forever changed my outlook on life.

The elected president of Edinburgh Napier Students Association, Edinburgh Napier University, hosted a discussion event for students and staff members. The topic for the webinar was, “Faith plays a role for good mental health.” The point was to make students learn to use their faith for hope, peaceful minds, and other aspects of life. I enjoyed participating in the event and invited two of our full-time missionaries to share their testimonies and to perform a dance as part of our contribution.
Below is my presentation:
“Thank you for the opportunity to both hear and participate this evening. One distinct principle that I believe as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is that God speaks to us today, as we individually connect with Him through prayer and collectively as His children on earth through living prophets.
“The Old Testament tells us how God spoke to His children through living prophets such as Abraham, Isaiah, Noah, Daniel, and others. I believe that the doctrine of prophetic leadership has been restored.
“Every six months, there is a worldwide conference where our prophet and apostles address the world in my faith tradition. In the most recent conference, they taught and counselled on themes such as love your enemies, embrace the future with faith, finding joy in Christ, I believe in angels, let God prevail, and a new normal. All these addresses can be found on YouTube as well as the official Church website.
“Listening to this counsel helps me anchor my faith in Jesus Christ. I know that His sacrifice on my behalf can lift me from the darkest times. He is the Light of the World and calms my troubled soul.”
I was delighted to be asked to participate in this event along with members of many other faiths from across our country.
You can view the broadcast event at https://www.youtube.com/user/napierstudents.

I recently was made aware of a touching example of loving kindness—one that had unforeseen results. The year was 1933, when because of the Great Depression, employment opportunities were scarce. The location was the eastern part of the United States. Arlene Biesecker had just graduated from high school. After a lengthy search for employment, she was finally able to obtain work at a clothing mill as a seamstress. The mill workers were paid only for each of the correctly completed pieces they sewed together daily. The more pieces they produced, the more they were paid.
One day shortly after starting at the mill, Arlene was faced with a procedure that had her confused and frustrated. She sat at her sewing machine trying to unpick her unsuccessful attempt to complete the piece on which she was working. There seemed to be no one to help her, for all of the other seamstresses were hurrying to complete as many pieces as they could. Arlene felt helpless and hopeless. Quietly, she began to cry.
Across from Arlene sat Bernice Rock. She was older and more experienced as a seamstress. Observing Arlene’s distress, Bernice left her own work and went to Arlene’s side, kindly giving her instruction and help. She stayed until Arlene gained confidence and was able to successfully complete the piece. Bernice then went back to her own machine, having missed the opportunity to complete as many pieces as she could have, had she not helped.
With this one act of loving kindness, Bernice and Arlene became lifelong friends. Each eventually married and had children. Sometime in the 1950s, Bernice, who was a member of the Church, gave Arlene and her family a copy of the Book of Mormon. In 1960, Arlene and her husband and children were baptized members of the Church. Later they were sealed in a holy temple of God.
As a result of the compassion shown by Bernice as she went out of her way to help one whom she didn’t know but who was in distress and needed assistance, countless individuals, both living and dead, now enjoy the saving ordinances of the gospel.

“No. Mine!” Eli said loudly and pushed his little fist into my shoulder, hard. “Susie is my bear,” I shouted back. “Grandma gave her to me for my birthday!” I turned away from Eli so he could not grab the bear from me. Then I yelled for Mom.
“Susie, mine! No Hannah!” Eli told Mom with a frown.
“Hannah, I know Susie is your bear,” Mom said. “But Eli doesn’t understand. Could you at least let him hold her today, since it’s his birthday?”
That didn’t sound fair to me. When Susie was new, Eli was just a baby. I let him carry her around and sleep with her in his bed. Pretty soon Eli thought that Susie was his own special bear. He wouldn’t share her with me anymore—not ever.
“Mom, Eli is two years old now,” I said. “He should know how to take turns.”
“We’re going to have to think about this,” Mom said. Then she put Susie up high in the closet so we wouldn’t keep fighting.
That afternoon, when Eli was taking his nap, Mom and I had a good idea. “This means that when you want to play with Susie, you will have to ask Eli,” Mom reminded me.
“I know,” I said. Mom gave me a hug. Then we went down to the basement and found some tissue paper and a bag. Mom let me decorate the bag with markers. “This is going to be so fun for Eli,” I said.
When Eli woke up, we brought him into the living room. “Hannah has a special surprise for you, Eli,” Mom said.
I handed him the bag and he pulled out the tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag he found Susie.
“Susie. Hannah. Me!” Eli said. He smiled and laughed and did his happy dance. He hugged Susie again and again.
“Susie is your bear now,” I told him. “Happy birthday.”
That night Mom and I watched Eli fall asleep with Susie in his arms. Mom squeezed my hand and I felt warm inside. But I wondered how long it would be until Eli would let me play with Susie again.

Being the only member of the Church in my family was not easy. I longed for a way to share all I had learned about the Church with my family but feared they would accuse me of trying to convert them. I struggled with doubts. I knew the Lord wanted me to share the gospel with my family, but for more than a year I was too afraid to suggest that we have family home evening.
Finally, with my heart racing in fear, I asked the Lord for courage and strength to invite my family to have family home evening. To my surprise they said an enthusiastic “Yes!” to the suggestion, and our relationship has never been better.
Through family home evening I have been able to share the gospel and my testimony with everyone from my mother to my three-year-old niece. What a blessing it has been to read the Book of Mormon with them and hear that they believe what they are reading. In addition, the missionaries have been welcomed into our home to assist in our scripture study.
The greatest blessing is that in such a busy time of work, school, and other activities, my family is committed to meeting together every Monday and devoting an hour to learning more about the Lord. Laughing, singing, and kneeling together in family prayer have brought a tremendous sense of peace and love to our home.
Arlene Pryce, Don Valley Ward, Toronto Ontario Stake

The refining process in my life that led to my testimony of this principle began unexpectedly when in my mid-30s, I received my patriarchal blessing. I had fasted and prayed in preparation, wondering in my heart, “What does the Lord want me to do?” Full of happy anticipation and with our four young children in tow, my husband and I went to the elderly patriarch’s home. The blessing he gave me emphasized missionary work—over and over again.
I hate to admit it, but I was disappointed and troubled. At that point in my life, I had barely read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover. Without question, I was unprepared to serve a mission. So I put my patriarchal blessing in a drawer. I did, however, begin a serious regimen of scripture study each day as I focused on rearing my growing family.
The years passed, and my husband and I concentrated on preparing our children to serve missions. In sending our sons to many lands, I honestly believed I had fulfilled my missionary duty.
Then my husband was called to be a mission president in an unsettled, chaotic country in the developing world. It was 10,000 miles from home and light-years away from the culture and communication I knew. But, in the instant of my call as a full-time missionary, I felt a little like Alma and the sons of Mosiah—that I was called to be an “[instrument] in the hands of God to bring about this great work.” I also felt something I am not sure they did—overwhelming fear!
Over subsequent days I pulled out my patriarchal blessing and read it again and again, searching for deeper understanding. Even knowing I was going to live out a promise I had received from a patriarch decades earlier did not alleviate my concerns. Could I leave my married and unmarried children and my aging father and mother-in-law behind? Would I know the right things to do and say? What would my husband and I eat? Would I be safe in a country that was politically unstable and dangerous? I felt inadequate on every level.
In my quest for peace, I redoubled my efforts to attend the temple. I pondered the meaning of my covenants in a way I had never done before. For me, at this defining crossroads in my life, my temple covenants served as a foundation and catalyst. Yes, I feared, but I realized I had chosen to make personal, binding, sacred commitments I meant to keep. When all was said and done, this wasn’t someone else’s service to perform. This was my mission call, and I determined to serve.
Joseph Smith’s father pronounced this blessing upon his son’s head: “The Lord thy God has called thee by name out of the heavens. Thou hast been called … to the great work of the Lord: to do a work in this generation which no other … would do as thyself, in all things according to the will of the Lord.” The Prophet Joseph was called to his unique part of “the great work of the Lord,” and as overwhelmed and unprepared as I felt, I knew I was called to my portion of the work, too. This insight was helpful and gave me courage.
In my constant prayers I continued to ask, “Father, how can I do what Thou hast called me to do?” One morning shortly before leaving for our mission field, two friends brought a gift—a small hymnal to take with me. Later, on that same day, the answer to my months of prayerful pleadings came from that hymnal. As I sought solace in a quiet place, these words came clearly into my mind:
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
Realizing in a most personal manner that the Lord would be with me and help me was just the beginning. I had much more to learn about becoming an instrument in God’s hands.
Far from home in a strange land, my husband and I embarked on our service, much as pioneers, with faith in every footstep. We were quite literally alone much of the time—finding our way within a culture we didn’t understand—expressed in dozens of languages we could not speak. The sentiment of Sarah Cleveland, one of our early Relief Society leaders in Nauvoo, described our feelings: “We have entered into this work in the name of the Lord. Let us boldly go forward.”
My first lesson in the process of becoming an instrument in God’s hand had been to search the scriptures, fast, pray, attend the temple, and live faithful to the covenants I had made in the house of the Lord. My second lesson was that in order to “boldly go forward,” I needed to rely completely on the Lord and seek earnestly for personal revelation. In order to receive that revelation, I would have to live worthily to have the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost with me.
My last lesson was precisely what Elder Maxwell explained. In even the smallest details of each day, I submitted my will to the Lord’s, for I so needed His help, His guidance, and His protection. As I did, gradually my relationship with my Father in Heaven changed—in profound ways—that continue to bless me and my family.
My life’s journey is different from yours. Each of you could teach me much from your experiences of submitting your will to the Lord’s as you earnestly seek to know His will for you. We can rejoice together in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, gratefully acknowledging the blessing of having a testimony of the Savior and His Atonement for each of us. This I know—our individual efforts to become instruments in the hands of God have not been easy and have stretched us spiritually, enriching our mortal journeys in the most personal, glorious ways.
Dear sisters, may the Lord bless each of you in your personal quest to know His will for you and to submit your will to His. I testify that our individual will “is the only possession which is truly ours to give.” In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I clipped an item taken from the diary of Mrs. Rebecca Riter, entered December 25, 1847. She describes that first Christmas in the Valley of the Great Salt Lake:
“The winter was cold. Christmas came and the children were hungry. I had brought a peck of wheat across the plains and hid it under a pile of wood. I thought I would cook a handful of wheat for the baby. Then I thought how we would need wheat for seed in the spring, so I left it alone.”
In our bounteous lives, we may well reflect upon the more meager Christmas seasons of our pioneer ancestors.

Recently I stood with Sister Camilla Kimball while President Kimball greeted the little children at an area conference. A young mother-to-be rushed toward us and threw her arms around Sister Kimball, hugged her, and wept. Then as she gained her composure she said, “Oh Sister Kimball, you are so beautiful, so serene, and so supportive to your husband.” Fresh tears accompanied this outburst and then she said, “Oh, Sister Kimball, my husband says this is how I’m supposed to be.”

Sister Kimball, who is all that the woman said and more, spoke quietly to her, “It will come. We all have to learn through experience.”

The young mother-to-be went away comforted. The beginning wasn’t the end! She lifted her head in hope, as I believe we all must do, to move steadily forward in ultimate faith that the end can be better than the beginning, wherever we may start.

In addition to the summer farm work, Franklin’s father kept him busy at home. To make sure he didn’t run out of jobs around the house and to develop his sense of responsibility, his father had coops and runs for fifty chickens built in the backyard. Franklin had to feed and water the chickens, keep the coops clean, and gather the eggs. Since there were more eggs laid than the family needed, he was allowed to sell the extra eggs and keep the money. Brother Richards said, “I’m grateful that I had a father and mother who taught me the joy of working, the value of spending less than I made, and the importance of paying my tithing.”
Back then tithing was paid to the bishop’s storehouse, sometimes in kind, meaning eggs, wheat, or other farm produce. During 1908, when Franklin was only eight years old, he paid $7.50 in tithing on earnings of $75.00. He still has the bishop’s storehouse receipt. In those days $75.00 was a large amount of money. It represented a lot of hard work.

It’s tough to be the only member or active member in your family. It seems as if the ward is full of ideal families who have family home evening, prayers, and scripture reading—all of which you want to have too. Meanwhile, you sit alone at church or tag along with another family to the ward party. It’s not that you want to change families, but you want your family to change, because you love them and want eternal blessings for them: you don’t want to sit alone in the congregation in the hereafter. Yet you get discouraged when their answer to your pleas is no. At times you might even feel sorry for yourself. But always you clutch on to the hope that someday they will join. Susan also had that hope.
Susan, 16, is a pretty and talented girl, pretty because she’s self-assured, and talented because she’s self-motivated. Rather than cautiously and worriedly dipping her toes into life, she plunges in head first, perhaps blue-lipped and sputtering at first, but having a good time anyway. After her baptism three years ago, Susan channeled her efforts toward home: she wanted her father baptized.
“I knew if my dad was baptized, Mom would come. So that was my number one goal,” Susan recalled. “I figured I could accomplish it by myself because I knew my parents kind of liked me, so I figured they’d want to do this,” she said with bold confidence. “I tried everything,” she added more humbly.
“I tried being forceful, but that didn’t work. Then I tried making them feel sorry for me. I told them that I had to sit in church by myself and sing by myself, and that everybody else was with their families. That didn’t work either.”
Although she sometimes felt discouraged, Susan would not give in. “After I learned more about missionary work,” she continued, “I tried a different approach: I invited them to come to my church meetings. I gave talks in sacrament meeting, and Mom would come. One time I sang in stake conference. I even got a new dress. Mom was going to come, but she got sick, so I went with no hope that either Mom or Dad would be there. We were singing our song when I looked at the back of the chapel and saw my dad coming through the door. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t because I had to sing.
“Another time that Dad came with me was at the ward father-daughter date. While we were sitting there eating our breakfast, I looked at Dad, and the thought came to me that someday he was going to be baptized. Right in the middle of bacon and eggs, I knew it, and I wanted it more than anything.”
But the baptism didn’t happen overnight, and Susan learned more about missionary work. “I knew I couldn’t do it by myself,” she admitted.
One day while walking home from school, Susan saw two parked bikes on her street and two missionaries knocking on someone’s door. The missionaries had been to Susan’s home five times before. Usually they had just come once. But Susan wouldn’t let that block her new excitement. Maybe this time her father was ready.
“I had hoped the missionaries wouldn’t get in to the house they were knocking at because I wanted to talk to them. They didn’t, so I told them about Dad. They told me that they had prayed that morning about where they should tract and were sent to my street. I think the Lord knew that my dad was ready to hear the gospel. Whether anyone else knew it or not, the Lord knew it, and that is all that matters.”
But all wasn’t perfect and easy. There were times when Susan got very discouraged, wondering why things weren’t happening faster. “Then I would have to remember that getting ready for baptism was a slow process for me also. I would look around and see other young people who sat by themselves in church or whose circumstances seemed worse than mine, but they didn’t seem discouraged. Their example helped me to quit feeling sorry for myself.”
Meanwhile, realizing that her example was crucial, Susan also reaped one of the blessings of missionary work—that of preparing and growing herself.
“I had to be as ready as Dad was. I had to do a lot of praying, some fasting, and even some repenting. I realized that missionary work is love and service, that it is telling your mom and dad you love them even if your little brother and sister are listening. I also tried to follow the missionaries’ example of showing love for Dad. I would try not to scream and holler at my family,” she admitted.
The missionaries came to Susan’s home seven times over a five-month period. Each time she could tell that her father was getting closer.
“One night in April I went for my birthday interview with the bishop. Dad came to pick me up after.” Susan continued mischievously, “I hid down the hall so Dad would have to come in and find me. When he came into the church, he asked if he could see the bishop alone. He was in there for about 30 minutes, and I was out in the foyer wondering what in the world they were talking about!
“On the way home I was dying to hear what went on. All of a sudden Dad said, ‘Well, Susie, I guess I’ll get baptized.’ I just sat there. I wanted to cry, but I knew I shouldn’t because Dad doesn’t like us to get emotional. All I said was, ‘Oh Dad, I think that’s so neat.’ That was kind of a dumb thing to say, but what do you say when your biggest goal has just been realized?”
Susan’s father was baptized on April 14th.
But Susan realizes that her missionary work isn’t over yet. “I still get impatient and discouraged at times, but I’ve come to realize that becoming a celestial family is a step-by-step process. And I must understand my parents. I try to do my part. When I’m spiritually down, it shows in the home. So I try to keep my testimony strong by doing what I’m supposed to do; I feel better when I do.”
Susan has learned a lot about missionary work, mostly through trial and error. She has learned that timing and responses are different for different people, that force and pity aren’t successful, that true service is far more important than lip service, that the Spirit must touch the person’s life, and that desire—well, as for desire, Susan isn’t lacking; she keeps on trying, regardless of mistakes, to boldly live the gospel, although it’s sometimes awkward, frightening, and even downright hard.
But positively, Susan summed it up: “My dad wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Church 20 years ago, but after going through a lot of visits from our home teachers, and after many different sets of missionaries, and after he had a daughter who wouldn’t leave him alone—my dad is a member of the Church.”
And when asked about her recent goals, Susan enthusiastically replied, “To have family home evening, family prayer, and to be sealed in the temple to my family—that’s my number one goal now!”

Early one Saturday morning, as the sun began to rise over Nsit Ubium, a group of young single adults gathered for a special institute class unlike any other. We called it “Breakfast with President Nelson.” Our course material was Teachings of the Living Prophets, and our next topic was “Succession in the Presidency.”
After the class, we met with our stake president, President Williams, and the YSA representative. I felt impressed to make the next lesson one that would not only be heard but also experienced. In our discussion, the Spirit reminded us of King Benjamin’s powerful counsel: “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).
We prayerfully selected some elderly members of the stake who needed support with household chores or farm work. Then, without revealing our full plan to the students, we asked each to bring a small, affordable token—perhaps a bar of soap, a sachet of milk, or any household item they could easily offer.
When the day arrived, our class began as usual at 6:30 a.m. As we studied the inspired order of succession in the First Presidency, we came to a beautiful realization together: in the Church, every calling—from the newest convert to the prophet of God—is an invitation to serve.
At the end of the lesson, I shared our plan. The refreshments we had prepared for class would be divided—half to be enjoyed and half to be given to those we would visit. I could see the excitement on the students’ faces as they realized that today’s gospel learning would be lived out in action.
Our first stop was the humble home of Sister Rosemary Abraham, an elderly sister who had been unable to attend church for years due to health and age constraints. Together, we cleared her lawn, swept her backyard, and presented her with the small gifts we brought. Her smile and tears spoke louder than any words.
Next, we visited Brother Harrison Ekanem, a long-time member, and his wife, a kind friend of the Church. Their home needed much care. We washed their clothes, cleared the bushes, and helped crack palm kernels she sold to support the family. Watching the young people labour joyfully touched her deeply. She promised to come to church to learn more about “these good people.”
Our final stop was at the home of a former patriarch who had suffered a serious accident and could no longer walk properly. This visit became the most emotional of all. As we helped peel cassava, clear his yard, and sweep around, he was moved to tears of gratitude—and so were we.
On our walk back to the stake centre, about a mile away, the students broke into hymns of praise. Their voices filled the quiet morning air as they expressed gratitude for the opportunity to serve. They spoke of how they had felt the Savior’s love and how their understanding of service had deepened.
Before we parted, one of them said, “Brother Ibok, can we do this every week? And maybe extend this same gesture to friends who aren’t members?”
That simple question felt like the echo of King Benjamin’s legacy—a reminder that true discipleship is found not just in what we learn but in what we do with that learning.
That day, we didn’t just study about prophets—we lived their teachings.

As she became a young adult herself, Ioana wanted to do the same and help others feel welcome in the Savior’s Church. Though she felt nervous about reaching out to people she didn’t know, she was learning to listen to the Holy Ghost and trust the promptings she received.
When another young woman joined, Ioana got up the courage to talk to her. They discovered a mutual interest in music, and Ioana offered to teach her to lead the singing. Before long they were spending time together, serving as branch pianist and music leader.
“As I prepared myself to receive the guidance of the Holy Ghost, I started to notice Him putting thoughts in my head, answering my questions, prompting me,” Ioana said. “There were times I didn’t know what to say, and then something would come. It felt right when I said it. I’m learning to trust the Holy Ghost.”
She learned that often the things that help others feel like they belong aren’t big. For her, it was being included in Sunday School or activities, playing sports or crazy games, baking cookies, and having dance nights. “It wasn’t fancy. It was just having a good time or being able to talk. And when it’s connected to something spiritual, that can make it extra special.”