Gospel Story Finder

Another incredible thing in Punta Arenas is found at the central plaza. On the same monument as Hernando Magellan is a bronze Patagonian Indian with a very shiny toe. The toe has been polished by the touch of passersby because it is reputed to be a very lucky toe. It has even received a few kisses because a legend maintains that any visitor who busses the magical digit will someday return to Punta Arenas. Few people take the good luck offer seriously, but it seems to be almost a matter of civic pride to give the toe a pat from time to time. One day in the springtime when the plaza was alive with flowers and budding trees, the patters were young Latter-day Saints. They were waiting for a bus to take them to one of the many tourist attractions around Punta Arenas. Their goal was Fuerte Bulnes (Fort Bulnes), the first Chilean fort on the Strait of Magellan.
When the bus arrived, they went singing on their way. On their left was the alternately cloud-gray and silver Strait. On their right the brambly hills gave way to dark tarns and forested slopes. As they went, the hills moved closer to the sea, until they rose almost straight up to formidable cliffs. And atop one of the cliffs, far above the Strait, was the fort.
Fuerte Bulnes looks like something out of the Old West, with its palisades of sharpened logs encircling guard towers, cannons, barracks, and a guardhouse. The young visitors examined swords and muskets, sent imaginary cannonballs seaward against desperate enemies, and climbed down a rocky trail to admire the sea, which for a moment was as blue and placid as an alpine lake.
In the fort museum they relived Magellan’s discovery of the Strait, almost exactly 457 years before. They were intrigued by the real-life drama of other early explorers and settlers, including the tragic story of nearby Puerto Hambre (Port Hunger) where a whole settlement perished from starvation.
On their way back to Punta Arenas, the group stopped for a leisurely stroll by the shore and a visit to an Indian fishing village. They searched for sea shells on the pebbly beach among the remains of king crabs and old boats. They also watched with interest as an Indian boatwright patiently tamed raw timbers into the ribs of a fishing boat.

“Let’s prepare ourselves to go to the temple” were the words uttered by my husband when I was washing the dishes. I was astonished. Being in the Church for almost two decades and like every other young women, I too dreamt of getting married to an active, worthy, temple-loving returned missionary.
My husband and I knew each other for almost 12 years, and on September 2009, we decided to get married. I had a strong desire to get married in the temple, and when I shared my feelings, my husband insisted that we work together to be strong enough to enter into His holy place. We committed ourselves that we would go to the temple and get sealed in the house of the Lord in three months. The initial days were blissful. But life wasn’t like something that floats around and lands on you like a lucky butterfly. It needs to be tended, like a fire in your heart, by breathing life into a spark over and over again.
Years came and went in a blur of working hard and spinning our wheels. We filled our days with what we thought we had to do. We were careless with our love, sending out sharp words and criticisms and then rushing out the door to our next obligation. We thought we were building a life for our future. But we didn’t see the cracks in what we were building.
Whenever we thought of going to the temple, we became conscious of our failings and felt uncomfortable at the thought of approaching the Lord. We felt unworthy of the Lord’s love and were fearful of His disapproval. We knew that preparation to enter the temple and covenant-making doesn’t happen quickly. It began with baptism, confirmation of the gift of the Holy Ghost, and then it has to grow every day with prayer, scripture study, obedience, repentance, partaking of the sacrament, keeping the commandments, etc.
The day dawned when my husband was called by Bishop Daniel Michael and stake president Nithyakumar to be the second counsellor in the Convent Road Branch. That puzzled us greatly, for we had supposed that someone called to such an office would have an unusual, different, and greatly enlarged testimony and spiritual power than my husband.
My husband denied initially and said he is not worthy enough to accept the call. It was a great challenge, and after two months he made up his mind. A few days later, my husband felt something strong in his heart that we must prepare ourselves to go to the temple. Temple ordinances are the most exalted ordinances that have been revealed to mankind. We wanted to receive the temple ordinances, make solemn covenants with our Father, feel His Spirit, and receive additional revelation and understanding. As we have heard many temple-returned members bear their testimonies, we wanted to experience that same understanding and assurance of the eternal existence and the unending power of the covenants made. If we are not eternal beings, the temple would have no significance. We wanted to enter the temple and make covenants because we know that we will exist eternally, and we wanted to be with our Heavenly Father and our family in “never-ending happiness.”
We slowly started to resolve our marital differences and felt that it was worth our best efforts. We started to prepare wisely and foresaw the need for adjustment. We started listening to each other and each moment of listening piled up until we could start climbing right up and out of our hole. We added laughter and that made the climbing lighter. We let things go, saw with new eyes, and stood in the each other’s shoes. Serving family, Church members, and friends became enjoyable. All these years we were trying to find happiness by hunting for it, not realising that we will find it as the old woman did her lost spectacles, safe on her nose all the time.
Our understanding of our eternal perspective helped us both to love and respect each other and overcome selfishness as we worked through our differences together. We partook of the sacrament, sought for forgiveness, strived to keep the Lord’s standards, and felt proud to worthily carry a temple recommend. The more we stood for true principles, the more we felt the Lord’s help to overcome temptation.
We started preparing spiritually, mentally, and financially. We worked on our family tree. We knew that our ancestors were waiting and praying for hundreds of years for their ordinances to be performed. We felt great and awesome to do that part of work for them. We were able to collect 42 names. On May 14, 2017, we went to the temple. We did not understand much when we did our own endowments and got sealed. I was taken in disbelief when I saw my dream come true where I dreamt of sitting in a room on a chair and a person with white dress speaking to me. I saw the same room, the same chair in which I was sitting during my initiatory and a person in white dress speaking to me. I went back to the patron house and reflected on my dream as though it happened just few days back. When we did baptisms for our ancestors and began to seal them, we felt the Spirit so strong in us. My husband didn’t serve his mission but was blessed to baptize nearly 60 people who are dead. When we did endowments for our ancestors and as we entered into the celestial room, we both held our hands together, prayed for few minutes. There were scriptures lying next to us. When we randomly opened the page, it turned to Doctrine and Covenants 38:7–15. We were overjoyed to see the promised blessings.
I know that Heavenly Father wants to bless us. His greatest blessings come when we enter the temple to receive sacred ordinances and when we make and keep sacred covenants. We feel we have reformed ourselves. Our hearts are full of thanks for the Saviour’s Atonement that assures us that ‘though [our] sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool” (Isaiah 1:18). I am grateful for my family. We are really blessed to live in a time when the Lord has inspired His prophets to provide significantly increased accessibility to the holy temples worldwide and invite each of you to have a current temple recommend and visit the temple more often. All of the ordinances which take place in the house of the Lord become expressions of our belief in that fundamental and basic doctrine of the immortality of the human soul. As we redouble our efforts and our faithfulness in going to the temple, the Lord will bless us. We leave you this testimony that when you prepare, “set specific goals, considering your circumstances, of when you can and will participate in temple ordinances. Then do not allow anything to interfere with that plan. This pattern will guarantee that those who live in the shadow of a temple will be as blessed as are those who plan far ahead and make a long trip to the temple” (Richard G. Scott, “Temple Worship: The Source of Strength and Power in Times of Need,” Liahona, May 2009, 43).
Finally, I quote from President Howard W. Hunter (1907–95): “Let us be a temple-attending and a temple-loving people. Let us hasten to the temple as frequently as time and means and personal circumstances allow. Let us go not only for our kindred dead, but let us also go for the personal blessing of temple worship, for the sanctity and safety which are provided within those hallowed and consecrated walls. The temple is a place of beauty; it is a place of revelation; it is a place of peace. It is the house of the Lord. It is holy unto the Lord. It should be holy unto us” (“The Great Symbol of Our Membership,” Ensign, July 1994, 5).
May the Lord continue to bless you and your families when you prepare to enter his holy House as He did ours. I strongly bear this testimony in the precious name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, amen.

When I was 15 years old, missionaries used to eat with some of our neighbors. My older sister saw them coming and going every day, and she asked them if they were selling something. They said no, and that was the way they were introduced to our family. My father, my mother, and my brothers and sisters received the lessons and were all baptized. But I didn’t join. At that time I was investigating another church, but I was sincerely searching.
The 10th of May in Mexico is Mother’s Day. That day, my mother asked me if I loved her. I said, “Yes, I love you.”
She bore her testimony to me and asked me to be baptized. I decided to get baptized that day. The following Sunday, I was confirmed and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. At that time my life completely changed. I started reading everything I could get about the Church, especially the teachings of Joseph Smith. I had faith, and as I studied, I accepted the teachings of the Church. My faith grew as I grew in the gospel.

A priesthood quorum that is looking for ways to give service can combine the right plan with the right place and really make a difference.
Adapt to conditions.
Sam Welsh, 14, of the Wellington Ward, West Palm Beach Florida Stake, had his teachers quorum organized in a food drive for the homeless. Then things blew apart—literally. Hurricane Andrew hit southern Florida with a fury that tore homes apart, uprooted trees, and displaced thousands of people. The service project suddenly became a way for Sam’s quorum to give relief to hurricane victims.
“Our quorum or any other teenage groups weren’t allowed into the hurricane area to work,” said Sam. “We only got to go work with our parents.” But one way teens could help was working for organizations funneling supplies into the area. Sam’s food drive expanded beyond his quorum and ward to include the entire stake, other Scout troops, and his performing arts school. The school officials asked that students donate money instead of goods. Sam used the money to purchase items the food bank had run short of, such as baby formula and bottles, diapers and wipes. The quorum helped collect donations and deliver them to a central collection point. Because the quorum had experience working together, they were able to keep the drive organized and on schedule.
Adapt to needs.
But chances for service don’t always come on such a large scale. Paul Brown, 16, of the Fort Pierce Ward, West Palm Beach Florida Stake, was severely injured in an automobile accident. His recovery will be long and slow. Mark Settle, a friend and member of the same priests quorum, explained what the quorum did after hearing about Paul. “We wanted to go see him, but we weren’t allowed in intensive care, so we had a group prayer. And we remembered Paul in our personal prayers and in our family prayers.”
“Every Sunday,” Mark said, “we have our priests quorum meeting at his house so Paul can be with us. He’s a good person to be around.”
And they have plans for Paul’s return. “When he feels good enough to go to Church, we’re going to get a microphone so he can bless the sacrament even if he can’t break the bread yet.”

When I was a student in dental school, the financial outlook of our local economy was not very encouraging. Inflation dramatically decreased the value of currency from one day to the next.
I remember the year when I was to enroll in surgery practices; I needed to have all the necessary surgical equipment before enrolling that semester. My parents saved the needed funds. But one night something dramatic happened. We went to buy the equipment, only to discover that the amount of money we had to buy all the equipment now was sufficient to buy only a pair of surgical tweezers—and nothing else. We returned home with empty hands and with heavy hearts at the thought of my losing a semester of college. Suddenly, however, my mother said, “Taylor, come with me; let’s go out.”
We went downtown where there were many places that buy and sell jewelry. When we arrived at one store, my mother took out of her purse a small blue velvet bag containing a beautiful gold bracelet with an inscription that read, “To my dear daughter from your father.” It was a bracelet that my grandfather had given her on one of her birthdays. Then, before my eyes, she sold it.
When she received the money, she told me, “If there is one thing I am sure of, it is that you are going to be a dentist. Go and buy all the equipment you need.” Now, can you imagine what kind of student I became from that moment on? I wanted to be the best and finish my studies soon because I knew the high cost of the sacrifice she was making.

Evan Stephens was born in Wales in 1854. By the time he was 12 years old, his family had moved to Willard, Utah, where he sang in the town choir. But when Evan learned that President Brigham Young was coming to hear the choir, he had a problem.
Evan looked down at the dusty road and dragged his feet as he walked home from choir practice. Everyone else in the Willard town choir had cheered at the invitation to sing for President Brigham Young. The men clapped each other on the back, while the women whispered excitedly from behind their books and fans. No one noticed the glum look on 12-year-old Evan’s face as he slumped down in his chair. The “Boy Alto,” as he was known, quietly slipped through the church doors and left practice by himself.
The problem wasn’t that Evan didn’t want to sing. He loved music. When his family settled in Willard, a town about 50 miles (80 km) north of Salt Lake City, he had been delighted to learn about the unusually good town choir. As the 10th child in the Stephens family, Evan had found little time between farm chores to learn much about music. In the Willard choir, he could finally learn more about it. He found himself moving in rhythm as he worked and dancing as he herded the cows. He felt music everywhere now.
No, the idea of singing for the prophet didn’t upset Evan. But choir members would need to dress in their best Sunday clothes for the performance, and Evan didn’t have any good clothes. His family didn’t have much money. He had never owned a nice coat or a pair of black Sunday shoes. He was ashamed to sing in front of the prophet while looking so shabby.
Evan looked down at his dusty feet. They were covered with dirt from the trail. He would have to scrub them hard before going to church Sunday morning. Otherwise, his feet would look black. Evan’s heart jumped at this thought. He could get black feet—really black feet—by using polish. Everyone would be looking at the faces of the singers, so no one would notice that Evan had black feet instead of black shoes.
On the day the choir was to sing to the prophet, Evan felt sweat on his forehead and the palms of his hands as he looked down at his black feet. He knew he must go—the choir needed him—but he wanted to hide so the prophet would not see him. With tears racing down his cheeks, he ran toward the bowery where the choir was going to sing.
At the bowery, Evan stopped. What if the prophet did see him? What would he think of a poor farm boy with painted black feet and no coat? Evan couldn’t let the prophet see him. Turning around, he bolted like a frightened colt. He ran right into the very man he had hoped not to see.
President Brigham Young grabbed the frightened boy by the shoulders. “Now, now, what’s this?” he asked. “What’s the matter? Why are you running away?”
Tears filled Evan’s eyes as he bowed his head and whispered, “I have no coat for the program and no shoes.” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued, “I painted my feet black with polish.”
The grip on Evan’s shoulders relaxed, and he felt the prophet pat him on the head. Looking up, he was surprised to see a kind look on President Young’s face and tears in his eyes too. “Never mind that,” he told Evan. “Don’t you hesitate a moment. Go right on in.”
Relief wrapped around Evan like a soft, warm blanket. He blinked away the tears and returned the prophet’s smile with one of his own. He hurried to take his place with the choir. Happy to be accepted by the prophet, Evan sang his part perfectly.
President Young gave Evan an encouraging word and courage to do his part. This kindness influenced Evan long after the choir performance. He continued to study music and taught himself new skills.
When Evan grew up, he became director of the Tabernacle Choir. He served in that position from 1889 to 1916. Evan also wrote many sacred hymns and patriotic songs. He remained humble and always remembered the lesson he had learned from the prophet. Evan treated people like he did his music—with love. And like President Young, he listened with his heart.
Evan Stephens later wrote a hymn about courage, including the words, “Courage, for the Lord is on our side” (“Let Us All Press On,” Hymns, no. 243).

Like a lot of teens, I got my first job when I was 16. The paycheck I earned from cleaning tennis courts was nothing to brag about, but I was excited to have some personal income. Because my parents covered a lot of my expenses (they bought a used car for me and my brother to share, and even paid for gas and insurance), the money from my job left over after tithing became spending money. I would spend hours after school at music stores, picking out albums by my favorite bands. An avid reader, I loved going to bookstores and would rarely leave one without a stack of novels tucked under my arm. I bought clothes and DVDs, concert tickets and guitar accessories. I loved to eat out with friends, sometimes almost every day of the week. Having money to do these things made me feel more mature and independent.
When I first started my job, my parents helped me open checking and savings accounts. I signed up for a credit card also. Though I didn’t plan to use it regularly, my parents and I thought it would be helpful to have in case of an emergency. It was more convenient to carry around a couple of cards in my wallet instead of cash and cumbersome spare change, so I switched to plastic. No more counting out bills and coins at check stands; all I had to do was key in a PIN number or show my ID and presto. I hardly had to think at all.
But not having to think much turned out not to be such a good thing. It was so easy to spend money that I began to spend more and more. Online shopping was getting popular at the time, and with a few clicks of the mouse on our home computer, I could have almost anything arrive at my door in two days. With digital music stores beginning to spring up on the Internet, buying music no longer required driving to the store or waiting for a package to arrive in the mail. All I had to do was click the “Purchase Now” button and I could be listening to a new album instantly.
Of course, there was nothing wrong with spending some of the money I earned on music or dinner with friends. But as my spending habits got worse, I began to spend money that I didn’t really even have. Several times I overdrew my checking account and had to pay a fine. My parents encouraged me to slow down my spending and work out a budget, but I didn’t take their advice seriously. Instead, if I didn’t have enough money in the bank, I began to charge purchases to my credit card and say to myself, “I’ll pay it off in a few days when my paycheck arrives. No big deal.”
It was a bigger deal than I thought. A few days turned into a few weeks, then a few weeks into months. It wasn’t long before I had empty checking and savings accounts, mounting debt, and a credit card bill that I couldn’t handle. I was stuck.
I wish I could say that was when I learned my lesson and turned things around—that I stopped overspending, paid my debts, and became wiser about handling finances. In fact, I was able to pay off my credit card debt, with plenty of help from my parents. For a while I was more responsible with my spending. But only for a while.
Having my parents bail me out, I later realized, gave me an unhealthy sense of security. Though I told myself that I needed to change my spending habits, I also felt that if I did mess up again, there would a safety net to rescue me, just as there had been the first time. And so I soon fell back into my old habits. I wasn’t making large purchases, but I never hesitated to shell out a few dollars here, a little more there—either with my checking card or with my credit card. It depressed me to know how much I spent, so I stopped checking my balances altogether. I got a raise and more hours at work and convinced myself that I was probably doing OK. After all, I wasn’t going out and spending hundreds of dollars at a time.
My experience that summer day at the sporting goods store was an unpleasant awakening. Those smaller purchases had added up, and I found myself in an even bigger mess than before.
A few years later, as I’m about to graduate from college, I think of Alma’s admonition to “learn wisdom in thy youth” (see Alma 37:35). Even though I’m on a better track now, I still wonder how much money I could have saved for a mission, college, or marriage had I learned financial wisdom when I was younger—and how many headaches I could have saved myself.
I finally figured out that buying lots of things and being overindulgent won’t make you happy, and that learning to live within your means makes all the difference. It has for me. I just wish I had figured that out sooner.

I would like to see a new word in the English language dictionary: “Enjoyring”. I define this as “Enduring with joy”, a result of remaining on the covenant path. Let me tell you why:
On Christmas Day 2019, we had a large group of family and friends at our home for Christmas celebrations. It was a wonderful day with joy and peace in our associations with each other. After lunch, the children acted out the Nativity, dressing up as Joseph, Mary, and all the Nativity characters.
Later, we all sat around the pool enjoying and watching fun activities. Suddenly disaster struck. Our daughter Joslyn, who was born severely handicapped with cerebral palsy, suddenly started to have an epileptic seizure. I ran to her aid, knowing from experience that there was nothing we could do but wait for it to pass. We knew that the longer the seizure lasted, the more life threatening it would be. As we supported her, I could see that she was having great difficulty breathing, and that her lips were turning blue. I remember feeling desperate, thinking to myself that we had never seen her this bad before and realised she needed to be taken to the hospital immediately.
My wife, Mandy, and I left our guests and rushed off. In the car, Joslyn’s seizure subsided, and she was able to breathe a little better, but then she had a second severe episode. While Mandy drove, I sat in the back of the car with her so I was able to give her a priesthood blessing. When we arrived at the hospital, Joslyn was in a serious condition. She was quickly admitted into the intensive care unit for medical attention.
We returned home later that Christmas night, Mandy and I both feeling physically and mentally drained. In the car ride home, we talked about how we had just abandoned our Christmas guests, but we knew they completely understood the emergency. We knew that they had all returned to their own homes, and we concluded that we would spend the rest of that night cleaning our home. But when we arrived, we were very humbled and so grateful to find our home spotlessly clean, with dishes washed and put away, floors mopped, furniture and toys put in place—everything looking perfect.
We felt such gratitude for the thoughtfulness of our family and friends as they rallied together and cleaned up. Our spirits lifted, being the beneficiaries of such kindness after a stressful experience. That night we truly felt ministered to.
Joslyn spent the next week in intensive care, she had received a priesthood blessing, she recovered, and we felt at peace.

When the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., 17-year-old Yee Mun Lim got out of bed and got ready for the day. She left the house at 5:20 for seminary. At 6:30 a.m. she hurried to school, where she stayed until 7:00 p.m. for classes and co-curricular activities. Then she rushed to the stake center by public transport to practice for the stake musical production.
This was the standard routine of most youth in the Singapore Stake every Friday for five months. Sometimes exhaustion and fatigue set in, but throughout the entire preparation for the musical production, When a Prophet Speaks, there were no complaints or regrets, because the youth felt that the sacrifices they made were worthwhile. “This is the most amazing, awesome, spiritually uplifting, fun-filled, and heart-warming event I ever took part in,” said Yee Mun, of the Singapore Second Ward.
“Our initial purpose was to unite the youth,” said Kate Loreto, the stake Young Women president. “We have youth in eight different wards and from various cultural backgrounds. It’s hard for them to interact with each other. So we thought, why not do a musical to bring them together?”
The leaders chose music inspired by the list of B’s from President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008).1 This music was chosen “so the youth could internalize the lyrics of the songs, feel the Spirit, and live the standards,” said Connie Woo, the general director of the production. “We wanted to involve as many youth as possible,” said Sister Woo. In all, 78 youth performed.
Perhaps not all of the youth came with the same motive at the beginning, but almost all of them kept coming to rehearsals because they enjoyed the friendship, the singing, and, most of all, the Spirit.
After the theme was chosen and practices organized, the youth were assigned to different parts in the production and to different committees that suited their talents.
Ally Chan, age 18, of the Singapore Second Ward volunteered to help on the costume committee. “We needed to choose something that was modest, which was very important, and it had to be economical, youthful, and at the same time look good on the stage,” she said. Not only did she learn how to make decisions based on gospel standards and working with others, but she was also happy about how the youth looked.
Canden Petersen, age 15, of the Singapore First Ward was appointed choir president to help make sure that every practice ran smoothly. His responsibilities included assigning prayers, rallying and herding the youth for practices and games, and announcing seating on the stage. “I was also asked to have some young men help set up and take down the set and oversee the youth in fulfilling their assignments,” he said. “I felt that this responsibility was good for the youth. Hopefully it helped them understand that the Lord calls leaders now, not just from among the adults. They can and should sustain their leaders whatever their age or experience level.”
Kandace Lim, age 18, of the Woodlands Ward helped by taking multiple roles, including being a member of the costume committee, the choreography committee, the photography committee, and also by singing a solo. About her many responsibilities, she said, “It was my mum who inspired me to take on these assignments. She taught me that if there’s a chance to serve, just go for it. If you accept the task and put in your best effort, the Lord will definitely help you get through any difficulties you might face.”
Besides these administrative responsibilities, performers were also needed. John Lee, age 17, of the Clementi Ward was one of the brave souls to volunteer for a solo part. His reason was simple: “I just like to sing! And it makes me feel special.”
Ezra Tadina, age 17, of the Woodlands Ward didn’t feel like he could sing, so he found another way to contribute. “I chose to be involved,” he said, “and I am actually the one who narrated the part about being involved. I feel the message because I know it’s true.”
The practices extended from November 2009 until March 2010. During this time, the youth gathered at the stake center to rehearse every Friday night, except on holidays. The amount of time and commitment required of the youth was no small sacrifice, considering the strenuous schedule of a typical Singaporean youth.
First-year junior college student Olivia Hoe of the Bedok Ward chose to participate because “no matter how life throws mud at me, at the end of the day, it’s the gospel that’s going to keep me standing and pull me through the rubble. Knowing that there’s One who’s looking out for me and loving me completely gives me plenty of comfort, and I think that’s more than enough to get me going every day.”
Many of the youth had other commitments, but they knew that the Lord had laid a path for them. Such was the case of 16-year-old Amanda Ho of the Singapore Second Ward. “I had dance practice, which clashed with some of the rehearsals for this musical, but miraculously the school changed the practice schedule, which enabled me to turn up for the musical rehearsals,” she explained.
After months of practice, the show was finally ready to be performed. Thanks to the teens’ enthusiastic promotion, more than 700 people showed up to watch them at three performances. As the youth shared their message through songs, dance, instrumental music, and their own testimonies, many in the audience were touched.
The group was also challenged to invite nonmember friends to see their performance and to make it a missionary opportunity. Michael Lee, age 18, took this challenge seriously. “I invited six friends to come, and three of my schoolmates and a schoolteacher came,” he said. Their performances especially left an impression on his teacher. “He said that it was a great experience. He even requested a copy of the For the Strength of Youth booklet. He said that he felt the energy through the many hopeful hearts of the youth.”
The leaders’ initial purpose of bringing the youth together was certainly fulfilled. “As I sat there and looked up at each of them during the performance, my heart was filled with joy,” Sister Woo said. “It was not about how good they looked, how well they sang and played, or how well they delivered the narrations. It was not about which school or country they came from. They were one.”
The musical helped many gain a stronger testimony. Some say they hum the tunes and sing the lyrics of the songs wherever they might be, and the message in the songs helps them get through their daily challenges. Many of them became not just good friends but spiritual supports who can lift each other up when the going gets tough. They can help each other stay on the narrow path and grow spiritually.

Several years ago my family was going through a difficult time. My parents had separated, and our family began to forget God’s love.
To our great fortune, one of my mother’s friends saw our need to draw closer to God and introduced us to the full-time missionaries. As they taught us the gospel, we realized that God had a plan for us, and despite our many challenges, He had not abandoned us. After we had come to understand these principles, my mother, sisters, and I decided to be baptized.
As we attended our Sunday meetings, our testimonies of the gospel grew. I soon desired to serve a full-time mission. It was not an easy decision, however, because I was the man of the house. My mother needed my help. Moreover, I began to receive many job offers and was accepted by several universities. I concluded to ask God for help and direction.
After praying, I turned to my scriptures and came upon the following verses:
“Wherefore, your family shall live.
“Behold, verily I say unto you, go from them only for a little time, and declare my word, and I will prepare a place for them” (D&C 31:5–6).
In that instant I strongly felt the Spirit and knew that what I had read was Heavenly Father’s word to me.
Not long after that experience, I received my mission call. Before being set apart as a full-time missionary, I made a promise to my Heavenly Father that I would do His will as a missionary—that I would work diligently and sacrifice my all for Him. The only blessing I prayed for was to see my family together again someday.
My first year as a missionary was challenging, but my companions and I worked with all our hearts. About this time I received a marvelous letter from my mother telling me that my father had returned home! At that moment I remembered the promise I had made to God, and I recalled His promise in the Doctrine and Covenants: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise” (D&C 82:10).
Several years have passed since my mission. Today my family and I still find joy in the gospel and through our covenants with God. I know that He lives. I know that He loves us. I know that He sent His Son to save us. I also know that when we make promises to Him and are faithful to those promises, He is faithful to us.

I was raising our children in the Church, but within a few years, our children decided they would rather spend Sundays boating with their dad than attending church with me. I was devastated. One day in 1975 I talked to my stake president and told him that I had decided I needed to leave the Church because it was breaking up our family. He patiently listened and said, “Do what you must, but be sure that your Father in Heaven approves.” So I went home and fasted and prayed. That was the second memorable prayer. The answer that came was the impression that I was the link in the gospel chain for my family; if I broke that link, everyone would be lost. I knew the answer came from God, so I committed to never leave the Church. And I never did.

Finding the official blue envelope from the Netherlands tax service on my doormat filled me with dread. I picked up the envelope and opened it nervously. Sure enough, it was a notice informing me that I was to meet with the tax inspector on a certain day.
This was the latest in a series of disappointing events that had begun when I read Malachi 3:8–12. I was not a member of the Church at the time, but I took literally the Lord’s promise that he would open the windows of heaven and pour out abundant blessings on those who bring their tithes to him. I thought of the widow who was blessed for casting into the temple treasury her two mites (seeLuke 21:1–4). I knew that God always keeps his promises. And I knew that if anyone needed his promised blessings, I did.
My financial situation was disastrous. My small company was not flourishing. I had few orders, many debts, and a sizable tax liability. And so, without a church to pay an offering to, I chose a charitable organization to which I would pay my “tithing” and offered Heavenly Father a “deal.” “I’ll donate a tithe,” I promised, “if thou wilt deliver me from my financial problems.”
But things didn’t work out as I had hoped. In fact, they grew even worse. And then my wife and I had words on the subject. She said, “I have to clean with a very old vacuum cleaner, and you give money away to charity! I am your wife; don’t I deserve your charitable donations, too?”
What am I doing wrong? I wondered. I am keeping my part of the bargain. Where are the promised blessings?
I decided to read the promise in Malachi again. When I did, I realized that I had been “tithing” in the wrong way. I realized that tithing is not a financial investment; God is not a storekeeper who gives you an article when you put your money on the counter. Tithing, I learned, must be paid out of love and gratitude—not out of a hope of gaining something for oneself.
I asked Heavenly Father’s forgiveness, and things began to go better. But now the blue envelope at my door destroyed my optimism.
With a heavy heart, I walked into the tax inspector’s office for my scheduled appointment. After we had talked for a few minutes, he said, “I have the impression that you are an honest man and that you want to pay but cannot.” He then told me he had decided to forgive my tax debt.
Five minutes later, people on the sidewalk in front of the tax building saw a man dancing with joy, arms raised toward heaven!
Some time after that remarkable turn of events, I joined the Church. And now,after many years of paying a true and honest tithe with a happy and grateful heart, I have proved the Lord’s promise as recorded by the prophet Malachi. I know that Heavenly Father answers our love and faithfulness with rich blessings. Truly he opens the windows of heaven.

On the morning of 19 August 1991, families in Ukraine woke up to startling news: The government they had lived under for nearly 70 years had suddenly ceased to exist. In an instant, life changed forever.
Dmitry Mikulin from Kharkov, Ukraine, remembers well both that morning and the disorienting days that followed. “We went to sleep in one country and woke up in another,” he says. “Almost immediately, people began to experience real freedom in many facets of life.”
Many viewed the freedom to believe in God as a great blessing. Elder Boyd K. Packer of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles dedicated the land of Ukraine for the preaching of the restored gospel on 12 September 1991. A year later missionaries first came to Kharkov, Ukraine’s second largest city. And in January 1993, a branch was organized in the residential Alekseyevka area of town.
In his dedicatory prayer, Elder Packer asked “that the people [in Ukraine] will be blessed with food and clothing and shelter.” Obtaining these necessities has been a challenge for most citizens of Ukraine. Many have had to work long hours at the expense of family time. For others, the opportunity to grow rich through privatization of business has provided a distraction from home life. In addition, Ukraine has one of the highest divorce rates in the world, the number of out-of-wedlock births is increasing, and more couples are choosing to have one child or to remain childless. Somehow, for many citizens of Ukraine, the family has seemed to lose much of its significance.
But Latter-day Saints in Kharkov say the Church has helped restore their faith in the family. Dmitry, a returned missionary who recently moved from Kharkov to Moscow and now serves as second counselor in the Russia Moscow South Mission presidency, is one of these valiant Saints. He was sealed to his mother and father in the Freiberg Germany Temple in April 2000 and to his wife, Viktoriya, in the Stockholm Sweden Temple in August 2003.
“When we heard of the restored gospel, it gave us hope, a strong foundation, and faith in eternal life for our family,” he says. “Those problems that once seemed important became insignificant. Priorities in the family changed; values and the feelings of confidence and protection appeared.”
Dmitry’s father, Sergey, is currently Kharkov district president. He adds, “Our Church is the only place where people learn the truth about the family.”
Because of this fact, members of the Alekseyevka Branch are committed to building on eternal principles to strengthen families, not just their own but also other families who are striving to be in the world but not of the world (see John 17:11–14). The “family first” attitude has helped many here to achieve happiness in home life despite those distractions inherent in modern Ukraine. For Saints in Alekseyevka, the family and eternal goals permeate everything they do.
Vitaly Yemtsov served in the Soviet army on the East German side of the Berlin Wall in 1988. “I had a normal childhood,” Brother Yemtsov says, “but when I lived in Germany, I saw how families suffered under a foreign government. I felt bad for them. Soldiers often treated them harshly. After that experience, I wanted to have a better family life than those I saw, better even than the family in which I grew up.”
After his service in the army, Vitaly Yemtsov and a childhood friend became dissatisfied with the spiritual emptiness they felt and dedicated themselves to finding the truth. Both quickly accepted the restored gospel just months after the Church was introduced in Kharkov. “When I met the missionaries, I finally found spiritual food, especially for the family,” he says. “I found what is lacking all around us.”
However, faith does not free Brother Yemtsov and his wife, Lyudmila, from the family-threatening pressures and challenges of life. Within 18 months, both left well-paying jobs that required too much sacrifice of family time. Both found new jobs offering comparable salaries. Even so, everyday life often makes it difficult to focus on the family. Brother Yemtsov works nine hours a day, six days a week painting and repairing cars. Sister Yemtsova until recently worked as a warehouse manager. She now works at a care center for the elderly. In addition, Vitaly serves as branch president and as an institute teacher, and Lyudmila is district Young Women president.
Like others in their country, the Yemtsovs continually face challenges stemming from influences that subtly work against the family. Brother Yemtsov often feels isolated at work as the only employee who neither smokes nor drinks. “Everyone was surprised when I told them that I don’t do any of that,” he says. “Some considered me crazy in the beginning. Most respect me for it though.”
Alcoholism is a serious problem in Ukraine; some people do not know anyone who does not drink. Smoking is almost as widespread, especially among youth. Pornographic images are visible on advertisements and are for sale on almost any street corner.
“There is temptation everywhere,” says Sister Yemtsova. “Satan works diligently here. But the Spirit works diligently too. We find that it is not just how much time we spend together as a family but also what we do during that time that is important. And we make it a priority to do things that strengthen our bond.” For example, they say that family prayer and scripture study have become crucial, daily reminders of the importance of family happiness.
“The Lord said, ‘Stand ye in holy places,’” says Brother Yemtsov (D&C 87:8). “We try to make our home our own holy place so time spent together here will bring us closer.”
If he so chose, Aleksandr Chervyakov could have it all materially. Nine years ago he founded his own food technology company. Clients come from all over Ukraine and even Russia to take advantage of his firm’s services. “Without the Church, I could have easily become one of those people who works all the time and earns more than enough money but lacks the blessings of a loving eternal family,” Brother Chervyakov admits.
Fortunately, when two young missionaries asked if he would like to know more about Jesus Christ, he said yes. He and his wife, Lyudmila, and daughter, Inna, were baptized in 1995. Since then he has reduced his time at work so that he can nurture relationships within his family as well as serve in the Church. He has been the branch president and is currently second counselor in the branch presidency. The Chervyakovs were sealed in the temple in August 1997.
“One thing that has helped us keep our priorities in order has been family home evening,” says Aleksandr. “It’s so easy to forget what is truly important. Monday nights provide a great opportunity to forget about everything that is not important and to concentrate on our family.”
He says of their family home evening activities: “We always read from the scriptures or from the Liahona. If there are any family-related issues, we discuss them. Right now the question is, Which university will Inna enter when she graduates next year? We have been discussing that a lot lately. And we have fun. I think it’s a great secret of life that being with one’s family is fun. Sometimes we even dance.”
President Gordon B. Hinckley has said: “We believe that the family is the basic unit of society. You can’t have a strong community without strong families. You can’t have a strong nation without strong families—the father, the mother, the children as one unit working together. Now the family is falling apart all over America, all over the world. If we can just cultivate good, wholesome family life among our members, I don’t worry very much about the future of this Church.”1
Unfortunately, many families are struggling. However, there is tremendous hope because of the dedication of the Saints. Few people in Ukraine know the eternal principles that lead to happiness in the family, but the number is growing. As members live these teachings, their friends and family notice. Opportunities are abundant to share the peace members experience at home because of their diligence in establishing a house of God.
President Hinckley noted: “If we live the gospel, people will come into the Church. They will see the virtue of our lives, and they will be attracted to the message we have to teach. That message places great emphasis on the family.”2 And it is a message the Saints in Kharkov have embraced.

May I tell you of a special experience. Shortly after I was called to the First Quorum of Seventy I went back to my mission in Canada. The next month, we held a solemn assembly in eastern Canada for all of the priesthood leaders. The First Presidency, the members of the Twelve, and one of the assistants to the Twelve came. It was a glorious experience. I was placed as the chairman because I was the presiding priesthood authority in the area.

At the end of the solemn assembly I drove the First Presidency back to the hotel where they were staying. The Brethren bade me good night and went to their rooms. President Kimball’s secretary was detained at the counter of the hotel so I went over and asked him if I could take the key up to President Kimball so that he might get into his room. He handed me the key. I took the elevator to the ninth floor and went down the hall. There I saw President Tanner and President Kimball. I said, “President, here is your key.”

He thanked me in his loving way and then President Tanner took my arm and said, “Russ, how would you like to come in and have prayer with us?” Can you imagine closing the day with the First Presidency of the Church? I had never had that experience, and I went into President Tanner’s room with President Kimball. It was but a moment before President Romney and the other Brethren came in. I was overwhelmed. Tears welled up in my eyes as we knelt down around that bed.

I was kneeling next to President Tanner and I think he sensed what was happening to me, for he said, “President, we would like you to pray.” And then I heard a prophet pray. I learned a great lesson in that prayer. I felt the Spirit as I had never felt it before—you can understand it—for when a prophet talks to God, it is close friends speaking.

In a very short prayer, he said this, among other things: “And, Heavenly Father, we pray above everything else that the labors of this day have been acceptable unto thee.” That penetrated my heart like nothing else ever has on the principle of prayer. Oh, that every one of us might always be found closing the day pleading with the Lord that the efforts of that day had been acceptable unto him! There is great power in that. There is great strength in understanding that he is our Father, that we are his sons and daughters, that we are on his errand. May our labors always be acceptable.

“You’re going where?” The Mexican official seemed genuinely amused.
“Quitovac.”
“But nobody goes to Quitovac,” he laughed. “There’s nothing there.”
“We’re going to the school. To see friends.”
“Okay,” he said, shaking his head. “Go ahead. But if I were you, I’d go to the beach instead.” He was still chuckling as we left.
Americans do come down this way from Tucson, Arizona, across the Tohono O’odham Nation (Papago) Indian Reservation to the Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, through Lukeville, then over the border into Sonoita. Mostly the Americans are tourists or university students on break, looking for the sun. They find it on the beaches of the Gulf of California, which aren’t far away.
But nobody goes to Quitovac. Nobody.
That is, of course, unless you have friends there. And the LDS youth of Tucson have friends in Quitovac, more than 70 of them.
The friendships began, as many good things do, at Christmas. And even though right now the sun was beating down, the five young people and two leaders headed to Quitovac today were quick to tell their Christmas story.
“Brother Rehm got things going, I guess,” said Brian Simmons, 18, referring to Norbert Rehm, a high councilor in the Tucson Stake who previously served as branch president on the Indian reservation. Through that association, Brother Rehm became aware of the Alberque School in Quitovac, a school in need of help.
“It’s a boarding school where parents who can’t afford to raise their children send them to live,” Brian explained. “The government built the school for the Indians, but it’s funded only by donations.”
Conditions are tough. The dormitory is a barracks-like structure with concrete floors and broken windows. There is no running water. Showers from a bucket are allowed once a week. Two small bathrooms serve all 70 children. Toilets don’t flush unless tanks are filled with water carried from half a mile away. Electricity is available only when a generator is working—twice a year. Sometimes food runs out.
“To keep warm, the kids sleep two to a bed” (four to a bunk bed), said Danyel Colvin, 15, also of the Tanque Verde Ward. “In the winter, the cold wind blows right in.”
The LDS youth wanted to help. With Brother Rehm acting as go-between with the school and the Mexican government (there are strict limitations about who and what—like glass for windows—can cross the border), a campaign was launched to gather supplies the school could use. Youth in the Tucson 17th Ward gathered and prepared clothing and toys. Canned food, some basic medical supplies, and vitamins were also collected. When the ward was divided to form the Tanque Verde and Bear Canyon Wards, both units kept the project going.
The day after Thanksgiving, about 30 young Latter-day Saints and their leaders (one dressed as Santa Claus) headed to Quitovac. “We got our first look at the village,” Danyel said. “Many houses were built only of sticks. There were no trees or bushes, no roads. Just dirt and some buildings.” The school yard—an administration building, a study building with two classrooms, a covered pavilion for outdoor assemblies, and the dormitory—was also set in a barren landscape.
“Then we met the children,” Danyel continued. “There were lots of kids with no shoes. It was cold and windy, but they were wearing shorts and T-shirts.”
“We started by handing out some candy,” said Michael Walston, 14, of the Tanque Verde Ward. Then, with help from school officials, shoes and clothing were distributed. And toys.
“I helped one boy put together a toy,” Michael’s sister Susanne, 17, remembered. “He kept talking and talking. He knew I didn’t understand Spanish, and he didn’t understand English. But it was like I was his best friend. We didn’t have to speak the same language. We could communicate without saying anything.”
That was typical of the magic that happened. Teenagers and young children paired up like they’d known each other forever. There was a Christmas program, there were lots of hugs, and there was a lot of joy in Quitovac that day. But the thing Susanne remembers most is how eager the children seemed just to have someone take an interest in them.
“Sure, they were glad we brought some things,” she said. “But more than that, they wanted to share with us, even if all they could share was a smile.” That was what made the memory pleasant. That was what made a return to Quitovac worthwhile.
And now, here we were.
We turned from one dirt road to another, came over a small hill, and there, in the middle of nowhere, was the village. Now, months after Christmas, would the children even remember the earlier visit? Now, when the sun was hot and winds calm, would the friendship still be there?
The answer was quick in coming. The dust from our arriving vehicles had hardly settled when we were mobbed by children. Yes, we brought some supplies, some candy, some food. But again what mattered was the sharing. Children who didn’t speak English guided teenagers who didn’t speak Spanish around their school, their classrooms, their playground. Kids watched Brian, who brought along a tool kit, fix a broken swing and re-attach fiberglass panels on the pavilion.
Michael and Susanne organized volleyball and basketball games. Danyel gave piggyback rides. Crystal Smith, 15, of the Sonora 18th Ward, Tucson Stake, became an instant celebrity with school officials because she speaks Spanish and could act as an interpreter.
We were shown the school’s new hand-operated mimeograph machine. A flag ceremony and school assembly were held in our honor. And the principal presented a letter of thanks to the LDS youth.
But it was Walt Stone, a seminary teacher who accompanied the group, who summarized what meeting with the children of Alberque School taught us. “These kids have dignity,” he said. “Everything they own fits on the half of the bed they sleep in. But they share whatever they have.”
An example: “One boy brought out his bag of marbles—the only marbles in the school,” Walt said. “A bunch of us joined him in a game. Nobody argued about winning anything; they just had fun. And when the game was over, the marbles went back in the bag, and he put them back on his bed. He knew they would be safe.”
Many times we saw older children looking out for others, making sure the youngest (some are little more than one year old) weren’t neglected. If anyone tripped and skinned a knee, others were instantly there to help. When teachers asked students to do something, it was immediately taken care of. Students marched, stood at attention, posed with us for a school photo, hugged us over and over again, and literally clung to the teenagers when it was finally time to leave.
All the way home, the youth talked about their day in the sun.
“That was great, even better than Christmas,” Brian said.
“What you never forget are their faces,” Danyel added. “There’s such joy in their faces. Designer jeans and worldly things don’t really matter down here. What’s important is to enjoy life, and to share your joy with others.”
Nobody goes to Quitovac, the Mexican official said. But he was absolutely wrong. Friends come to Quitovac. And their friendship shines all the brighter when they leave. The tourists and the students who drive to the beach seeking the sun take the wrong road. The brightest light is found where people help each other. It’s the light of Christlike service, and it’s a light that shines brighter than any sun.
The friendship with Quitovac didn’t end with just two visits. As this story was being prepared for publication, we learned that the youth from the Rincon Stake had been to the Alberque School again.
They brought quilts they had made, one for each child at the school. An LDS dentist came along to check the children’s teeth. And they also brought a foot-powered sewing machine, with the promise that a Relief Society sister would soon be along to teach villagers how to sew.
“When we arrived, the children lined up on the left and right of the road, clapped their hands, and saluted us,” Brother Rehm said. “We played the same games, had the same fun, left with the same feelings.”
And, he noticed, the school was cleaner. The students all had shoes and proper clothing. And even though there were still some broken windows in need of repair, it seemed like there was a brighter, happier feeling in this place in the sun.

The zeal of the Korean Saints for missionary work also played a great role in the growth of the Church. One great member missionary was Lee Sung Man of the Jamsil Ward, who joined the Church in his 50s. He had many ups and downs in his life; however, he always had a positive attitude in his religious life. A shoe repairman, he piled up copies of the Book of Mormon in his shop and invited customers to take one for free if they would read it. Over 50 people, including his relatives, joined the Church because of him. He read the standard works dozens of times. They were found beside him when he died.8

After I was baptized and confirmed, I attended the little Matsumoto Branch of 12 to 15 active members. I made friends, and it was fun to attend every week. About a year later I graduated from high school and moved to Yokohama to attend the university. The nearest branch was the Tokyo Central Branch, which had more than 150 active members. When I attended this new branch, I felt like a country boy in the big city. I had a hard time making friends. One Sunday I stayed home from church. Soon I stopped attending altogether. I began making friends with my nonmember classmates, and the Church drifted further and further from my mind.
This continued for several months. Then one day I received a letter from a sister in the Matsumoto Branch. “I heard you have stopped attending church,” she said. I was surprised. Apparently someone from my new branch had told her I was not attending church anymore! The sister continued her letter by quoting Doctrine and Covenants 121:34: “Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen.” Then she wrote, “Koichi, you have been baptized a member of the Church. You have been called, but you are no longer among the chosen.”
As I read these words, I was filled with regret. I knew I needed to change somehow. I realized that I did not have a strong testimony. I wasn’t sure if God lived, and I didn’t know if Jesus Christ was my Savior. For several days I grew anxious as I thought about the message in the letter. I didn’t know what to do. Then one morning I remembered something the missionaries had taught me. They had asked me to read Moroni 10:3–5, promising that I could know the truth for myself. I decided that I must pray. If I felt nothing, I could completely forget about the Church and the commandments, and I would never go again. However, if I did receive an answer, as Moroni promised, I would have to repent, embrace the gospel with all my heart, go back to church, and do all I could to follow the commandments.
As I knelt and prayed that morning, I pleaded with Heavenly Father to answer me. “If Thou live—if Thou are real,” I prayed, “please let me know.” I prayed to know if Jesus Christ was my Savior and if the Church was true. As I finished, I suddenly felt something. I was surrounded by a warm feeling, and my heart was filled with joy. I understood the truth: God does live, and Jesus is my Savior. The Lord’s Church was truly restored by the Prophet Joseph Smith, and the Book of Mormon is the word of God.
Needless to say, I prayed for forgiveness that very day and resolved to follow the commandments. I returned to church and promised the Lord that I would do whatever it took to remain faithful.

Stewart tapped his mom on the wrist. “When will Daddy be done? I’m hungry.”
“In just a few minutes, Stew.”
“What’s he doing in there, anyway? I want to go home.”
“Daddy’s talking to the bishop.”
“Why?”
“He’s answering questions like, ‘Do you tell the truth?’ ‘Are you kind to your family members?’ ‘Do you follow the prophet?’ Questions like that.”
“Why?”
“When Daddy answers questions like those, the bishop knows whether or not he is a commandment-keeper. If he is a commandment-keeper, he’ll get a special piece of paper, called a temple recommend. Only Church members with temple recommends can go inside the temple.”
“Oh.”
The bishop’s door opened, and Stewart’s daddy stepped out. He shook the bishop’s hand and smiled. “Your turn,” he said, looking at Mommy.
“I’ll be right back, Stew.”
Stewart sat quietly in his seat, thinking.
“So tonight’s the night for chocolate chip cookies, right Stew?” Daddy asked.
Stewart looked up. “Yes.”
“Are you going to help me bake them?”
“Yep.”
There was silence.
“Dad, are you a commandment-keeper?”
“I try to keep the commandments, Son. Sometimes I make mistakes, but I repent and try harder. It’s hard to be a commandment-keeper, but I do my best.”
“Did you get a temple rec– … rec– What’s that word?”
“Temple recommend. Here. Do you want to see it?” Daddy handed Stewart a small piece of paper.
Stewart looked at it carefully. “What does it say?”
“Well, I still have to talk to the stake president. But right now, it has the bishop’s name, and my name. And at the bottom, it says that I’m worthy to enter the temple.”
“Because you’re a commandment-keeper?”
“Right.”
Before long, Stewart’s mom opened the bishop’s door.
“Come on,” said Daddy. “Let’s go home and get those cookies ready to bake and eat!”
Riding home in the car, Stewart was quiet. Mom looked into the rearview mirror and saw that he looked sad. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
At a stoplight, Daddy turned to the backseat. “Stew, what’s the matter? Aren’t you excited about making our treats?”
“I wanted to tell the bishop I keep the commandments. I wanted my own special paper.”
Mommy and Daddy looked at each other.
“You wanted a temple recommend?” Daddy asked.
“Aren’t I good at keeping the commandments?”
“You’re very good at keeping the commandments. But you have to be twelve to go inside a temple. When you’re twelve, you’re old enough to get your own recommend and do baptisms for the dead,” Dad explained.
“So I don’t get a paper like yours till I’m twelve?”
“No.”
Stew looked out the window. Daddy and Mommy quietly looked ahead. Then Daddy had an idea. “Hey! You can still have a piece of paper that says you keep the commandments! After we get the cookies started, you come into my office!”
Stew gave his dad a cautious smile. “OK.”
Once at home, the family set to work on the cookies right away. When the first batch went into the oven, Stewart went to his dad’s office.
“Have a seat, Son. I’ll sit here, across from you.”
Stew climbed into a chair and got comfortable.
“Now let’s start with a prayer.” Daddy folded his arms and Stew followed. Daddy asked Heavenly Father that His Spirit would be with them as they talked. He told the Lord that he loved his little boy. Stew felt happy inside.
When the prayer was finished, the questions began. Daddy looked Stewart in the eyes. “First, do you believe in Jesus Christ?”
“Yes I do.”
“I do, too, Stew. He’s my very best friend. Now, do you believe that the scriptures are true, and do you read them every day?”
“Well, Mommy reads them to me, but yesterday we both forgot.”
“Do you read them most days?”
“Yes.”
“That’s great. Reading the scriptures is one of the best ways to learn about Jesus Christ. Do you say your prayers?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Wonderful. How do you feel when you pray?”
“I feel glad because Heavenly Father can hear me and answer me.”
“Yes, He likes it when we pray to Him. The more we pray, the more He can help us. And you and I need lots of help, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe that Gordon B. Hinckley is a true prophet?”
“I know he is a prophet.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s what you told me.”
“Heavenly Father will tell you, too, if you ask Him. I’ve asked Heavenly Father, and He’s told me,” Daddy said. “Now, do you tell the truth?”
Stew frowned. “Well, I lied about that mess in the kitchen. But you already knew that.”
“I remember. You blamed a friend for the mess, and it was really you who did it.”
Stewart’s shoulders drooped. “So I guess I’m not a commandment-keeper?”
“Well, did you repent of telling that lie?”
“I told you and Nathan I was sorry.”
“Did you really feel sorry? Sorry enough to want to tell the truth from now on?”
“Yes.”
“If we repent when we make mistakes,
Heavenly Father forgives us and forgets about the mistake. We’re still commandment-keepers, as long as we keep trying and keep repenting.”
Stewart sat tall again. He felt thankful for repentance.
Daddy asked more questions about the commandments: “Are you good to your parents?” “Do you keep Sunday special for remembering Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ?” “Do you pay tithing?” “Do you stay away from dangerous foods and drinks?”
Soon Stewart had answered every question. Daddy held out his hand. “Congratulations! You are a commandment-keeper.”
Shaking hands with his dad, Stewart beamed.
Daddy wrote some words on a small note card and handed it to Stew. “This piece of paper says that you’re a commandment-keeper. Right now, you’re not old enough to go into the temple, but you are worthy enough. That’s terrific!”
Stewart smiled, put the note card in his pocket, and said, “When I’m twelve, I’m going straight to the temple.”
“Great!”
“But right now”—Stewart grinned—“I’m only five, and I’m going straight to the kitchen. I can smell those yummy cookies and I’m starving.”
“Me too! Let’s go.”

It was in the late 1960s when I first heard about Relief Society, and I was not yet a member of the Church.
I was excited to hear about this women’s organisation, and the missionaries had arranged for one of the sisters to pick me up for the evening homemaking meeting. It seemed like a beautiful thing to go to.
I was conscious that this was the first time to meet these women. So, with an emphasis on it being a Church meeting, my apparel was important. I was brought up in Ireland, but with the Anglican tradition that you don’t go to church without a hat. I had a hat I thought would be suitable. It happened to be quite flamboyant, with its navy and pink petals—rather like a bouquet on top of your head, but pretty. I had a matching navy coat and dress. So, well-manicured, with make-up on, and in my hat and outfit (including gloves), I was ready.
At the last minute, I thought I’d better take some food, because of the charity aspect of the organisation. So, I gathered some tins and placed them in a wicker picnic basket.
When the lovely lady arrived to pick me up, she was casually dressed in jeans and a nice sweater. I can’t remember if she had a look of shock on her face when she saw me, but it still didn’t dawn on me that I was way overdressed. Only when I went into the room did I realise they were all casually dressed — and there I was looking like the Queen Mother! I never did ask them what they thought, but they were wonderful sisters, wonderfully warm.
I’ve learned to be good at laughing at myself, but it was a serious moment for me—it was perhaps my first spiritual moment. I felt their genuine warmth, and I wanted to be connected with these sisters. I truly felt the sisterhood of which we talk and read.
I am grateful for the stability of the gospel that has helped me to ride many waves in my life. And since that first meeting I have always had an affinity with my sisters in the Church.

Our whole family worked as stake missionaries to the Salt Lake Stake Hmong Branch, and I taught Neng and Shoua and the other children how to fold their arms to pray, how to look at the pictures in Book of Mormon Stories, and how to sing “I Am a Child of God.” They taught us how to say hello in Hmong—nyob zoo (knee-ah shong)—and we taught them all kinds of things, like how to turn on a light, use a pencil, or buy a chicken with money. At Christmastime generous people gave the Hmong some clothes, toys, fruit, candy, nuts, and cookies. They ate the oranges and nuts, but they didn’t want the candy and cookies! Celebrating the New Year’s holiday with the Hmong is the most fun of all because everyone eats all the rice he wants, and they talk and play games. Chou’s and Neng’s moms made an honorary Hmong costume for me to wear for the New Year’s party. It is black with a bright blue collar and bright pink and green sashes, and it has a lot of embroidery, beads, and shiny decorations that tinkle when I walk. They gave my mom some colorful cloth needlework squares called paj ntaub (pa ndao), which means flower cloth in Hmong. The squares symbolize some ancient Hmong religious beliefs. Kalu’s grandma is teaching her how to sew the tiny cross-stitches and make the patterns that form the flowerlike designs, and I want to learn too. Sometimes I practice tracing a design on paper or making up one and coloring it to look like a real piece of pay ntaub. The Hmong are some of my favorite friends, so I try to make my designs using their favorite colors—purple, red, blue, yellow-gold, and green.