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Vera's dream by: Howard L. Biddulph

Vera was one of the early converts in Kiev.  Since the time she was a young girl, Vera periodically had a special dream.  In the dream she was promised that the true way to God would one day be shown to her and that it would bring her great happiness.  At times of great tribulation for her, the dream would come again, assuring her of  the Lord's love and the future blessings she would receive if her remained strong.

As a young girl during World War II, Vera was separated from her family and held in a work camp in Germany.  After the war she was reunited with her mother in Ukraine.  In every destitute conditions, Vera nursed her beloved mother until a lingering, painful death of this loved one left Vera alone again.

     Vera married, and a daughter was born.  Then she cared for her husband in his illness and watched him die, leaving her alone again, this time with young child to care for.  As she grew old,  Vera also suffered serious health problems that took her to the brink of death.  Yet she was always comforted by the recurring dream that promised a future way of happiness.

Shortly before a very serious operation, in which her life hung in the balance, this aged widow again had her special dream.  She was assured that she would survive the operation and be restored to health.  Shown the beautiful faces of two fair-haired young men who would soon teach her the true path of God,  Vera was promised great happiness and peace if she would accept their message.  These were unique, unforgettable faces she saw, unlike any young men she had ever seen in Kiev or Ukraine.  She assumed they would be foreigners.

     After her recovery,  Vera was shopping in downtown Kiev when she recognized with unspeakable joy the faces of two young men dressed in suits and ties-the very faces she had seen in her dream! Like aged Anna in the temple at Jerusalem (see Luke 2:36-38), she had waited throughout her life for the messengers of God.

     Elders Aaron Love and Rony Allen were assigned to the area of Kiev where Vera lived, and their own apartment was very close to Vera's home.  As a result of meeting them, she received the gospel with joy and was baptized.

     In spite of her age,  Vera has become a great gospel scholar and teacher of the Book of Mormon and the Bible.  One of my choicest experiences was to attend and Easter Sunday service in her branch and to hear her give one of the truly great sermons I have heard in my lifetime on the Savior Jesus Christ, his suffering and death, his atonement for sin, and his great resurrection.  on that sacred occasion, Vera blended movingly the testimonies of Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Nephi, as well as her own gentle, loving witness of these events.

Vera lived and saved her widow's mite for the time when she could travel with other members of the Church to the temple of God in Freiberg, Germany, to receive her ordinances and to be sealed to her husband and deceased family.  Many years before, by the German troops that had occupied her country in World War II.  Now, with Joy, Vera returned to the same area where she had receive her first dream of the gospel, this time to partake of all the ordinances of eternal life.

***The End***

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Benbow Farm by: Wilforf Woodruff

March 1st, 1840, was my birthday, when I was thirty three years of age.  It being Sunday, I preached twice through the day to a large assembly in the City Hall,  in the town of Hanley, and administer in the sacrament unto the Saints.

In the evening I again met with a large assembly of the Saints and strangers, and while singing the first hymn the Spirit of the Lord rested upon me, and the voice of God said to me.  "This is the last meeting that you will hold with people for many days."

I was astonished at this, as I had many appointments out in that district.

when I arose to speak to the people, I told them that it was the last meeting I should hold with them for many days.  They were as much astonished as I was.

At the close of the meeting four persons came forward for baptism, and we went down into the water and baptized them.

In the morning I went in secret before the Lord, and asked Him what His will was concerning me.

The answer I got was, that I should go to the south, for the Lord had great work for me to perform there, as many souls were waiting for the word of the Lord.

On the 3rd of March, 1840, in fulfillment of the word of the Lord to me,  I took coach and road to Wolverhampton, twenty-six miles, and spent the night there.

On the morning of the 4th I again took coach, and rode through Dudley, Stourbridge, Stourport and Worcester, and then walked a number of miles to Mr. John Benbo's, Hill Farm, Castle Frome, Ledbury, Herefodshire.  This was a farming country in the  south of England, a region where no Elder of the Latter-Day Saints had visited.

I found Mr. Benbow to be a wealthy farmer, cultivating three hundred acres of land, occupying good mansion, and having plenty of means.  His wife, Jane, had no children.

I presented myself to him as a missionary from America, an Elder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, who had been sent to him by the gospel of life unto him and his household, and the inhabitants of the land.

Mr. Benbow and his wife received me with glad hearts and thanksgiving.  It was in the evening when I arrived, having traveled forty-eight miles by coach and on foot during the day, but after receiving refreshments we sat down together, and conversed until two o'clock in the morning.

Mr. Benbow and his wife rejoiced greatly at the glad tidings which I brought unto them of the fullness of the everlasting gospel, which God had revealed through the mouth of the Prophet, Joseph Smith, in these last days.

I rejoiced greatly at the news that Mr. Benbow gave me, that there was a company of men and women-over six hundred in number-who had broken off from the Wesleyan Methodists, and taken the name of United Brethren.  They had forty-five preachers among them, and had chapels and many houses that were licensed according to the land for preaching in.

This body of United brethren were searching for light and truth, but had gone as far as they could, and were continually calling upon the Lord to open the way before them, and send them light and knowledge that they might know the true way to be saved.

When I heard these things I could clearly see why the Lord had commanded me,  while in the town of Hanley, to leave that place of labor and go to the south, for in Hereford shire there was a great harvest-field for gathering many Saints into the kingdom of God.

I retired to my bed with joy after offering my prayers and thanksgiving to God, and slept sweetly until the rising of the sun.

I arose on the morning of the 5th, took breakfast, and told Mr. Benbow I would like to commence my Master's business, by preaching the gospel to the people.

He had a large hall in his mansion which was licensed for preaching, and he sent word through the neighborhood that an American missionary would preach at his house that evening.

As the time drew nigh many of the neighbors came in, and I preached my first gospel sermon in the house.  I also preached on the following evening at the same place, and baptized six persons, including Mr. John Benbow and his wife, and four preachers of the United Brethren.

I spent most of the following day in cleaning out a pool of water, and preparing it for baptizing in, as I saw many to be baptized there.  I afterwards baptized six hundred in that pool of the water. . .

The whole history of this Herefordshire mission shows the importance of listening to the still small voice of the Spirit of God and the revelations of the Holy Ghost.

The Lord had a people there prepared for the gospel.  They were praying for the light and truth,  and the Lord sent me to them,  and I declared the gospel of life and salvation unto them, and some eighteen hundreds souls received it, and many of them have also been called officiate in the bishopric, and have done much good in Zion, but in all these things we should ever acknowledge the hand of God, and give Him the honor, praise and glory, for ever and ever.

***The End***

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Real Intent by: Elder "C"

Not all of a missionary's "contacts" come from knocking on doors.  This young man we taught the gospel over the backyard fence.  He was a young man, only twenty-eight years of age, lived next door to the apartment we were renting.

This man was extremly intelligent-well read, well versed in the current affairs of the world-and an atheist,  he felt that if there was a God, as we had explained our conception of God to him, that God would not have created the mess in Christianity that is prevalent in the world today.  Therefore, he concluded that is prevalent in the world today.  Therefore, he concluded that there was no God.  But he also believed that to be able to communicate with a Supreme Being would be one of the most sublime experience in the world-an experience which he said he had never felt before, nor did he believe would ever happen.

Spiritually, the Church was not of interest to him, but he enjoyed comparing the doctrines of the Church with other churches, both Christian and non-Christian.  As with any new subject that caught his interest, he delved deeply into the subject, reading the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, Pearl of Great price, and Talmage's Jesus the Christ in just a matter of weeks.

As there "Over the backyard" discussions continues, we soon exhausted our resources, without any indication that he was gaining testimony from his extensive reading, or our discussions.  In our frustration at not knowing how to better proceed, we began to encourage the man to pray to gain a spiritual testimony of the gospel, instead of just  studying it as a sociological organization.  As a result of our persistence, finally one night he said,  "I'll put your teaching to a test.  I'll pray, and if I recieve an answer, I'll join your Church. If not, you can never come back into my home as a minister!"

We agreed to those terms.
My companion and I retired to bed about ten o'clock that night, as we usually did.  We sound asleep when the phone rang.  I was little groggy as I answered the phone, and on the other end was our next door neighbor, obviosly very excited.

"Elders!Come over, quick!" he said.  "I've got to see you.  Right now!"

"It's late," I mumbled.  "It's one o'clock in the morning!"
"I know it's late, but I've got to talk to you. Come quick!"
So we quickly dressed and went to his home to find him sitting on the sofa, shaking, obviously very upset, and very white.  He exclaimed very excitedly,  "Elders, I've got to be baptized! Tonight!"

We looked at our watches and said, "It's only a little after one o'clock in the morning.  The water would be cold.  Besides the chapel is locked."

"I don't care! I'll go get baptized in the river! We've got to do it right now!"
"Well, what happend?" we asked.
"Elders," he said, "something wonderful happend tonight! I suppose the most wonderful thing I've ever experience.  I was able to communicate with a source higher than my self.  A Supreme Being! I do believe in God, Elders! In fact," he said,  "I know there's a God!"

He then went on to relate what had happened to him that night.  He had waited until his family had gone to bed that evening to fulfill the commitment that he had made to us to test prayer, and see if it really did work; to find out if there really was a Father in heaven and put the Book of Mormon and the truthfulness of the gospel to the test.

He prayed as we had told him to, although very mechanically.  When he got up after having not felt anything, he said to himself, "Well, that's just what I expected-nothing!"

But, as he sat there thinking about that prayer, he said, "I thought to my self that if there was a God as the elders told me there was, he probably would not have answered that prayer because of the motives that I had.  I was doing this purely for an intellectual exercise.  I was just curious about this knowledge merely from a worldly standpoint."

He then began to wonder what would happen if he promised God, if there was a God, that he would join his Church and serve him and build up his kingdom on earth, if he would only communicate with him tell him the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.

So this young man again down by the side of his bed and pryaed with a different intent,  And as he started to pray, the Spirit of the Lord came upon him to such an extent that, as he reached out to touch his wife to awaken her, he found that he could not, as he was paralyzed.  He could not move.

Then his eyes were opened, and a vision of the story of the Book of Mormon was unfolded to him.  He saw Joseph recieving the "Golden Plates," the translation of the Book of Mormon, and the apostles giving Josep Smith and Oliver Cowdery the priesthood.

After the vision left him, he immediately called my companion and we requesting, almost demanding, baptism into the Lord's Church.  The Lord had honored his sincere request for a knowledge of the truth, and now he was determined to keep his commitment to that Supreme Being.

This man is now the branch president in his small community, having been truly converted by the communication that he experienced that night with our Father in heaven.

***The End***

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A Prayer for a Font of Water by: Grant H. Taylor

Brother Schmidt had met with many of the best elders ever to serve in the Danish Mission and had received the discussions several times over a three-year period. His wife was a member but not a strong influence either for or against the Church.  He had read all of the standard works and more Church-related books than most of the missionaries even knew existed. He loved his wife and infant son and wanted something eternal for his family.  But at the last minute, something always seemed to keep him from the baptismal commitment.

We had met with Brother Schmidt several times when he admitted to us and to himself that he had known for over a year that the restored gospel was true.  We were elated when he told us that he knew it was time to act on that knowledge and set a baptismal date.  We made arrangements for the following Saturday afternoon.

Saturday morning we rode our bikes to the Aalborg chapel and met our district leader and his companion.  The baptism wouldn't take place until 3:00p.m., but since it took several hours to fill the font, they would turn the water on at 10:00 a.m. to have it ready in time. Not needed there, my companion and I decided to take an early train to the Schmidt  home in Hjorring (thirty miles north of Aalborg) to help Sister Schmidt with any final preparation as she waited for her husband to return from work.

When we arrived Sister Schmidt was very cool towards us.  She said that Brother Schmidt wasn't ready for baptism and that we had pressured him into making a commitment.  She further announced that he would be working late and could not meet the baptismal appointment.

Heartsick, we left the home but decided to wait across the street for Brother Schmidt to return so that we could talk with him about his decision.  As we waited, we prayed with all our might for a solution to his problem.

When Brother Schmidt returned, nearly two hours after the time of his scheduled baptism, we crossed the street and knocked on the door.  He let us in, but the Spirit had left him.  He began apologizing but made it clear that his wife had convinced him that he was not yet ready to be baptized.

With a prayer in our hearts, we reviewed the simple truths of the gospel that we had taught him.  We spoke of the importance of temple blessings for  his family, which could come only after baptism.  After bearing our testimonies, we persuaded him to kneel and pray with us.  I prayed first and then asked him to pray.  He was reluctant, but he bowed his head and said nothing for several minutes.  When he finally spoke, he asked the Lord to let him know if he was ready for baptism.  As he asked the Lord to let him know if he was ready for baptism.  As he prayed, we felt the warm tingle of the Spirit, and we knew he and his wife had felt it.

When he finished, we all stood and nobody spoke for several moments.  I told Brother Schmidt that there was no need to wait any longer.

He looked at me and smiled.  "Let's go," he said.

In minutes we were on the way to Aalborg, all packed tightly into the Schmidts' little car.  It was then the terrible realization hit me-he could not possibly be baptized that night.

To protect against the change of children's falling into the water, there was a strict policy in the Aalborg District that the water not be left in the font overnight after a Saturday baptism.  It was now 9:00p.m.. six hours after the scheduled time for the baptism.  In all our worries, we had not though to contact the district leader to let him know of the change in plans.  And because there was no phone in the chapel, there was no way to stop and call him.  Surely, the font was now empty, and Brother Schmidt would not be baptized that night.

I looked at my companion and saw that he was not aware of the problem.  I thought of telling him and the Schmidts, but I didn't want to damage the enthusiasm that Brother Schmidt was finally feeling for Baptism.  I silently prayed that a miracle would happen-that somehow this baptism might take place.

As we rounded the last corner before the driveway to the Aalborg chapel, I saw that the outside light was still on.  To my surprise, sitting on the cement steps in front of the chapel was the district leader and his companion.  We got out of the car and I raced to the district leader, not daring to ask about the water.

He simply said,  "I knew you were coming.  The font is still full."

Brother Schmidt's baptism was late, but it was a marvelous experience for all of us.  Though this experience I came to know the power of prayer, a power I cannot deny.

***The End***

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"Welcome and Welcome'' by. Rendell N. Mabey and Gordon T. Allred

Hang on!" someone warned.  For an instant we were airborne as the taxi careened over a tooth-jarring strip of washboard and descended into the swale ahead.  It was a hot day as usual, sweltering inside the cab even with the windows open, and the road was murderous. . .

"If only we had a little rain to cool things off," Rachel said.  "Anything to get some relief from this heat."

"Rainy season's coming up," Ted reminded her.  "Once that happens we'll be getting more water than we bargained for.''

Sitting there in front next to the window, I laughed a bit wearily, leaned forward to free the shirt from my sweating back, and grabbed for the dash as we jolted over another chuckhole.

. . .Rachel, my wife of forty-five years, was in the back with our companions,  Edwin Q. (Ted) Cannon, Jr., and his wife, Janath.  To guide, interpreter, devoted friend, and investigator.  His skin, like the driver's, was very dark, and his forehead was beaded with perspiration.  As usual, however, despite the growing discomfort, he was smiling and full of cheer. . .

That morning. . .we had embarked from Calabar in a fast open boat with an outboard motor, traversing the mighty Cross River near its mouth in one-hour journey to Oron.  There we had hired the taxi and continued our quest, often with only the vaguest sense of direction.  Addresses in that locale were nonexistent-merely the primitive-sounding names of tiny knowledge that they were somewhere out there, people who were patiently waiting, who had been waiting throughout the years and praying for a miracle.

It was difficult at the moment to comprehend that were a part of that miracles even though our efforts of the day had already met with gratifying success.  for now, it was simply a matter of point, we narrowly escaped head-on collision with a truck.  The road was hardly designed for two-way traffic, and driver's education was clearly not top priority in Nigeria, facts well attested to by the number of demolished vehicles along the wayside.

By now, however, we were encountering a few more natives, either cycling of a foot, and another small settlement had materialized.  "Village Isighe," Daniel said.  He smiled, displaying a set of prominent white teeth.  "This is it-the one we've been looking for!"

All of us craned our necks, peering and exclaiming with surprised and relief.  Just off the road was rectangular white sign with neat block letters spelling:  "Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day Saints, Inc."  The name of the village was beneath.  "And there, if I'm not mistaken," I agreed, "Practically in our laps."  Only fifty or sixty feet away was a primitive little meetinghouse plastered with dried mud: hardly likely to win any prizes in architecture or to insure cool and comfort in such weather, but a literal delight to behold even so.

It was now one o'clock Saturday afternoon, but a good many people were leaving the premises, filing from the doorway and wandering down the little lanes much as though they had just completed a sacrament meeting.  Men, women, and children all dressed in their Sunday best, some in white, others in exotic colors, were passing by as we left the taxi.  A number had stopped, in fact, to stare.  Their dark, lustrous eyes were full of wonderment, and some of them seemed too astonished to return our words of greeting.

"I wonder what's going on," Janath said.  "Church meetings on Saturday?" Daniel smiled and shrugged, sharking his head, but it soon appeared that he was not a total  stranger there.

"Some kind of meeting, obviously," I said. Even more obviously, we had just discovered another of those self-styled branches of the Church, growing independently for now like slips from the wild olive.  More people who had learned about the gospel from an article in the Reader's Digest, letters to Salt Lake City, tracts, occasional copies of the Book of Mormon, or a passing visitor.  Such congregations understood certain important principles of the restored gospel in most cases, enough to hunger and thirst for more, but their knowledge was meager and primitive. . .

Moments after leaving our taxi, we were greeted by several men in colorful native robes, clearly religious leaders of some kind.  Foremost among them was a wiry little man who introduced himself as Evangelist B. J. Ekong, head of the so-called LDS churches in Isighe and several other villages of that general area.  His eyes were alert, full of intense expectation, and he smiled radiantly as though the purposed of our visit had already been revealed.  "How truly wonderful!" he exclaimed, and he began seizing our hands.  "Praise be to the Lord! Welcome! Welcome!". . .

. . ."Well, we're very happy to be here," Ted said. "Looks as though you've just been holding a meeting of some kind."

"Yes, yes indeed," came the reply.  Those with him nodded, beaming as though they shared some marvelous secret. "We must go ring the bell and summon our people to return immediately!"

"Oh, I don't think that's necessary for the moment,"  I began, but the Evangelist was irrepressible; all of them were filled with the same explosive spirit.

"Ah, but you don't quite understand," he persisted. "We really must ring the bell! The members of this congregation have been waiting for years.  They have just completed a twenty-four-hour fast, praying to the Lord that his missionaries would come."

It is impossible to articulate the feelings of that moment, but the bell itself seemed full of rejoicing, and within minutes of our arrival we were seated in positions of honor before a congregation of approximately seventy-five people.  All of them, even the smallest infants,  seemed to observe our every movement and expression with fascination the Evangelist B. J. Ekong arose to offer his welcome in English.

"We have awaited this glad day for may years,' he said, speaking in tones of great humility and dignity.  "Now, very suddenly and without notice. . ." He hesitated, eyes glistening.  "now, very suddenly, you re here among us.  You are here to bring that light and knowledge we so greatly desire and to show us the path we must follow."  He then turned to us more fully, making a slight bow and sweeping gesture with one hand. "For such a blessing we must thank our Father in Heaven everlastingly. Welcome, beloved and honored friends-welcome and welcome!"

I then arose as our senior representative and, with Daniel UKwat to interpret, thanked all those present for their great devotion to the Lord, their interest and hospitality. . . ."We bring you greetings from our prophet Spencer W. Kimball in Salt Lake City.  We bring you word of his great love and prayers and are here today  in that same spirit, convinced that we are all children of God and therefore literal brothers and sisters,"  I testified as well to the divinity of our Savior, explained briefly the mission of Joseph Smith, and bore witness of the fact that we were duly authorized representatives of the only true church upon this earth, an organization constantly sustained by the lifeblood of prophetic revelation.

. . . Despite the necessity of an interpreter, we were "coming through." The Spirit of God, which in times of faith may transcend all other barriers, was bearing record.  I could see it in their testimonies with my own.  Last of all, Daniel himself attested to this mission.

At the conclusion of our remarks, various leaders from among the gathering arose to add their welcome and to ask questions. . . .Above all else, they desired assurance that we had not come as mere birds of passage, that never again would they be left in the wilderness, comfortless and alone.  "In time past," an old man said, "a member or two of your religion have appeared among us, but only for a fleeting moment,  They brought us greetings in one truth only said farewell with the next.  We were tempted with the truth only to have it snatched away again.  No one returned, and our letters to Salt lake City received little reply."  His eyes smoldered, but the fire was quenched with tears.  "Will it also be the same with you?"

I shook my head, finding it difficult to respond.  "we can appreciate your feelings," I said, "and greatly regret that you have been kept waiting so long.  It must have been a terrible frustration, but God has many ways of testing the faithful, and perhaps this has been one of them. . .But your prayers have been answered."

"Yes," Ted agrees.  "This is the beginning.  The restored gospel has come to Black Africa."

***The End***

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"He Is Breathing His Last!" ELIZA R. SNOW

At the close of his mission, [Lorenzo Snow] was appointed to take charge of a company of Saints, consiisting of about two hundred and fifty souls, en route for Nauvoo; and in January, 1843, embarked on the ship "Swanton." The commander,  captain Davenport, and officers of the crew were kind and courteous, which contributed much to ameliorate the discomfort incident to life on the ocean.

The steward, a German by birt, was a young man, very affable in manner, and gentlemanly in deportment-a general favorite and highly respected by all.  During the latter part of the voyage he took sick, and continued growing worse and worse, until death seemed inevitable.  all means proved unavailing, and the captain, by whom he was much beloved, gave up all hope of his recovery, and requested the officers and crew to go all hope of his recovery, and requested the officers and crew to go in, one by one, and take a farewell look of their dying friend, which they did silently and solemnly, as he lay unconscious and almost breathless on his dying couch.

Immediately after this sad ceremony closed, one of our sisters, by the name of Martin, without my brother's knowledge, went to the captain and requested him to allow my brother to lay hands on the steward, according to our faith and practice under such circumstances, saying that she believed that the steward would be restored. the captain shook his head, and told her that the steward was now breathing his last, and it would be useless to trouble Mr. Snow.  But Sister Martin was not be defeated; she not only importuned, but earnestly declared her faith in the result of the proposed administration, and he finally yielded and gave consent.

As soon as the foregoing circumstances was communicated to my brother, he started toward the cabin where the steward lay, and in passing through the door met the captain, who was in tears.  He said, "Mr. Snow, it is too late; he is expiring, he is breathing his last!"  My brother made no reply, but took seat beside the dying man.  After devoting a few moments to secret prayer, he laid his hands on the head of the young man, prayed, and in the name of Jesus Christ rebuked the disease and commanded him to be made whole. very soon after, to the joy and astonishment of all, he was seen walking the deck, praising and glorifying God for his restoration.  The officers and sailors acknowledge the miraculous power of God, and on landing at New Orleans several of them were baptized, also the first mate, February 26, 1843.