May I tell you about my dear friend Rosa? Rosa lives alone in a tiny room in the pueblo of Tiquisate, Guatemala. We met Rosa through Jose, her next-door neighbor.

One day, my companion and I contacted Jose while he was resting in his hammock. Two weeks later, he was baptized. Now, every Sunday, Jose stands at the doorway of the local chapel greeting the members as they come in. While we taught Jose, we tried to teach Rosa. She had so many doubts and became defensive when we shared truths that were new to her.After Jose's baptism, we offered to teach him and Rosa to read. Almost every Wednesday and Sunday afternoon, they sat waiting for us outside their rooms with their orange literacy manuals in hand. Rosa wears thick, black-rimmed glasses that are held together with a piece of yarn and elastic strip that she slips around her head.

Sometimes I felt like they were the real teachers, especially when Rosa carefully laid out her clothes before my companion sat down on the hot cement slab and when Jose insisted that I sit in his prized wooden chair.

I taught Jose, and my companion taught Rosa. I wish you could have heard them pray when they asked God to please help them to learn to read His holy word. They also prayed for us, thanking God for our health, our safety, our testimonies, our love, and asking Him to continue blessing us in our missionary work.

Soon after, we started the missionary discussions with Rosa once again. It was so different this time. There was no claim that the Book of Mormon is adding to or taking away from the Bible. There was no doctrinal dispute over the validity of a second baptism - by the proper priesthood authority. There was no tension - there was only love, trust and sisterhood.

Somewhere between the accounts of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon, she told us of an experience she had the night before. After we had stopped by to ask her if she wanted to start the missionary discussions again, Rosa went into her room and got ready for bed. Rosa said the spirit she had felt during our visit left, and she felt as if the light in her heart went out. It seemed a horrible blackness surrounded her, and her faith failed her.

Rosa tried praying, but the peace she craved still did not come. Then she saw the Church literacy manual, and she picked it up. As Rosa paged through the book and read what little she could, she felt a beautiful calmness. Those simple, single-syllable words filled her soul.

I only wish those of you who worked so hard on the literacy program had been there to hear Rosa's sweet experience. Thank you for this inspired program. Although at times we got tired and frustrated during our afternoon reading lessons, we realized there is a special spirit that comes when children of God learn to read the words, "Dios me ama" (God loves me), and "Teme a Dios." (Fear God.)