“Our Most Beautiful Book,” Ensign, June 2000, 62
As a youth in the Netherlands, I had the opportunity to spend two weeks working with the full-time sister missionaries. I expected two weeks of hard work—and a lot of fun.
Despite my enthusiasm, we had little success the first couple of days. By the end of the first week I was exhausted, spiritually and emotionally. That night, I read in the Book of Mormon. When I went to bed, I had a warm and good feeling, and I knew Heavenly Father loved me and would give me the courage to keep trying after every closed door. In the days that followed, there continued to be more negative than positive responses. But if there was only one person a day who would listen, it made the day worthwhile.
One day I telephoned a woman who had investigated the Church for four years. Over the phone, she told me she didn’t need the Book of Mormon anymore because she had found a “more beautiful book.” When we went to her house, my companion and I hoped we could convince her to give the Book of Mormon another chance. She showed us parts of her book dealing with charity and pride; then she looked at us as if to say, That isn’t written in your book, is it?
Fortunately, I had studied the Book of Mormon in seminary that year, and I knew of some scriptures on those subjects. I soon found them and started to read. I explained them to her in a way I had not known I was capable of. When I finished, she had tears in her eyes. She had intended to give her copy of the Book of Mormon back to us, but now she had decided to try reading this most beautiful book—the Book of Mormon—again.