Gospel Story Finder

Staying home during the COVID-19 pandemic has helped me get creative and gain a testimony. I play music, play with my bunny, read my Book of Mormon, and play with my siblings. I used to not like reading my scriptures, but now I love it. I also used to try to get out of work, and now I look for ways to help. We can all use this time to get closer to family and Heavenly Father.
Penny C., age 9, Utah, USA

A few months ago I had the opportunity of attending a ward fast and testimony meeting. One who stood to bear his testimony was an Aaronic Priesthood adviser. His testimony provided me with a new appreciation of what it means for an Aaronic Priesthood bearer to hold the keys of the ministering of angels.
This adviser described some of his experiences with the ward Aaronic Priesthood that morning. As he was walking to church, he noticed two young deacons with fast-offering envelopes going to the homes of the members. He was impressed with the way they were dressed in their Sunday best and how they approached their assignment with quiet dignity. He then accompanied two priests to administer the sacrament in a residential home for physically and mentally disabled men. This was the first opportunity for these two young men to visit this home, and their adviser noted the respectful and caring way in which they approached their priesthood assignment.
Then the adviser shared a brief experience that deeply touched his heart, because one of the priests reminded him of what it really means to be a true minister of Jesus Christ—literally a ministering angel. The young priest who was passing the water to the congregation came to a man who appeared to have Down syndrome. The man’s condition prevented him from taking the cup from the tray to drink from it. This young priest immediately assessed the situation. He placed his left hand behind the man’s head so he would be in a position to drink, and with the right hand he took a cup from the tray and gently and slowly lifted it to the man’s lips. An expression of appreciation came to the man’s face—the expression of someone to whom someone else has ministered. This wonderful young priest then continued his assignment to pass the blessed water to the other members of the congregation.
The adviser expressed in his testimony the feelings he had at that tender moment. He said he wept silently with joy, and he knew the Church was in good hands with these young, caring, obedient bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood.

I want to deeply thank you for the well-written article in the February 1988 New Era, “Who Do We Think We Are?” I know what it is like to be without nice clothing, to have physical defects, and to be verbally abused by associates and shunned by social cliques because I’m “different.”
With help from prayerful scripture study and the Holy Ghost, I’ve learned to let my experiences be stepping stones, not stumbling blocks. Living through the effects of that and other challenges has taught me a tremendous love for those physically, mentally, or emotionally disabled. My life has been filled with such friends. I have many friends today. However, I especially look toward befriending these “different” people. I’ve learned that they’re some of Heavenly Father’s choicest children, and my association with them enriches my life immensely.
My dearest friend, before he died, lived well the following standard: “One is handicapped only when he fails to cope with his disability.” I feel sorry for those in today’s world who don’t “know who they are.” They are handicapped.
Carol U. RickmanSouth Gate, California

Despite fierce headwinds, many of the conference-goers listed the skiing as their favorite activity. One group ventured out on the hard, thick Star Lake ice, thinking skiing would be simple on the level, slippery surface. Going one way, the wind almost pushed them along. Going the other, its force nearly lifted them off the ice. No matter which direction they went, a powder of ice crystals whipped through the air.

“I’m so skinny I was afraid I’d blow away,” said Karen Kerns, 14, an investigator attending the Fulton Ward. “I leaned on my poles to hold myself up and let the wind move me across the lake.”

I loved “Mia’s Testimony” (June 2015). I haven’t been able to bear my testimony in church yet, but it really helped me understand what a testimony is. Soon I will bear my testimony. Thank you!

In the barge designed by Jerome Horowitz, we find another interesting design. It is simple and clean in appearance, with few embellishments. Perhaps it is a design similar to this that would have been most practical for the Jaredites. The ends of the barge are peaked, as described in Ether 2:17, and the holes in the top and bottom are present. Jerome’s barge would also be about 90 feet long, with a beam of about 30 feet. Jerome notes, as described in the scriptures, that there was a door, two luminous stones in each barge for light, and no windows.

When I was five, my mother started teaching me to play the piano. I progressed reasonably well for about a year, at which point the music got more difficult. Since I made more mistakes, my mother had to correct me more often, and my six-year-old ego couldn’t handle it. So I quit.

Several months ago we were having family scripture study. My two-year-old grandson was sitting on my lap as we read. I was in full-blown grandma mode, relishing the visit of my son’s family.
With our scripture study complete, I closed my book. My grandson knew that it would soon be bedtime. He looked up with his eager blue eyes and spoke an eternal truth: “More scriptures, Nana.”
My son, a good and consistent parent, warned me, “Mom, don’t be a weak link. He is just trying to get out of going to bed.”
But when my grandson asks for more scriptures, we read more scriptures! More scriptures enlighten our minds, nourish our spirits, answer our questions, increase our trust in the Lord, and help us center our lives on Him. “Remember to search them diligently, that ye may profit thereby.”

“One Personal Progress project I did was with a couple of friends. We were in school, and our teacher told us about one of her family members who was in Afghanistan and how he was writing letters that described the horrible circumstances he and the other soldiers were in. She asked us to write a letter to one of the soldiers. My friends and I wanted to do more, so we organized a bake sale to raise money. With the money, we bought small items like pens and paper. Then we boxed them up and sent them to the soldiers.
“I felt so good. The Personal Progress program has helped me become more like Jesus Christ.
“After I earned my medallion, I kept working on goals and helped a Beehive in my ward work on her Personal Progress. She has been able to get a lot done. I would encourage every young woman to finish the program and help others along.”Rebelle Haws, 16Amity Ward, Eagar Arizona Stake

In 2003 I was in Saint Petersburg, Russia, visiting some precious art collections from one of the great museums in that country. What impressed me the most, by its beauty and elegance, was the Fabergé eggs collection. At that time, I learned these eggs were carefully crafted under the supervision of the famous jeweler Peter Carl Fabergé as Easter gifts to the Tsar (imperial) family members. The one which especially captured my attention was the “Blue Enamel Ribbed,” for it is open with nothing inside which immediately reminded me of Christ’s empty tomb. After all, this ancient tradition of giving decorated eggs was created to symbolize the actual Resurrection of Christ.

When I was a college student in Viña del Mar, Chile, I remembered my parents walking to church with me in the sun, rain, hail, and wind. Each Sunday, this memory prompted me to get out of bed, get ready, and go to church—regardless of what was happening outside.

At church, Trent heard about some families that needed help for Christmas. They didn’t have money to buy presents. Trent wanted to help them have a happy Christmas! He wanted to help them, like Jesus would.
When they got home from church, Trent told Mom his idea. “I want to make a box. All of us can put a little money in it. Then we can give the money to people who need it.”
“I think that’s a great idea!” Mom said.
Trent wrapped an empty shoebox in bright paper. He cut a hole in the lid. Then he dropped in three coins. Plunk, plunk, plunk. It wasn’t very much, but it was all he had.
Then his brother and sister put in their coins too. Now they had more coins.
That night Trent prayed that Heavenly Father could help him buy presents for the other families. He wanted to help lots of people.
The next day, Trent’s aunt came to visit. He told her his plan. She wanted to help too! She dropped some coins in the Christmas box.
Soon friends and neighbors learned about Trent’s Christmas box. Each one said, “I can give a little too.” They handed Trent jars of coins they had saved up. Trent and his family were so happy. Trent loved adding the coins to the box.
Finally the box was full. It was heavy. Mom said there was enough money to help four families! Trent’s eyes got big. Heavenly Father had helped him. And now Trent could help lots of people. Together, everyone’s little coins made a big difference!

“It’s an overwhelming experience to be called by a prophet. If it weren’t for the perfect confidence I have in revelation—and I know from experience how real that is—I’d have to wonder if they have the right man.” So said Bishop Clarke, whose family is a great support to him. “They’ve been amazing about this call. We expected the children to at least think about what they’d be giving up, but they’ve just expressed their excitement and their support. … I’ve always said that I could serve only if I had the unity and harmony of the family. Also, that I couldn’t stand for one set of principles and have my family accept another. Honestly, they’re wonderful children. When my oldest son, Dallan, was growing up, I was always on the stand during meetings. We couldn’t have those good shoulder-rubbing experiences in priesthood meeting; and it would have been really hard for me as a father if I hadn’t known that he accepted and supported what I was doing.” (“Bishop J. Richard Clarke of the Presiding Bishopric,” Ensign, Nov. 1976, p. 139.)

When Jesse Gneiting’s older brother James received the Eagle award in Scouting, Jess promised himself that someday he, too, would become an Eagle Scout. He earned the Star award at the age of 13 (right on schedule) and began his Eagle Scout service project—earning money to purchase an American flag for his hometown community of Lewisville, Idaho. The fund-raising part of the project consisted of collecting aluminum cans around Lewisville and out on the desert where his family farmed. Jess’s plans were continuing well and his advancement to Eagle seemed only months away. But then an unexpected obstacle appeared.
After returning from a leadership training program for Scouts of the Teton Peaks Council, Jess noticed a lump on his leg just below the knee. A preliminary examination didn’t show anything wrong, but when the lump didn’t recede and it became painful for Jess to walk, his parents took him back to the doctor.
“I may have rheumatic fever,” Jess told his mother as he left the doctor’s office. “I’m to go to the hospital tomorrow for tests.”
Soon after, Sister Gneiting took Jess to the Idaho Falls hospital were X-rays were taken and he was told he had cancer. He and his parents were advised to leave immediately for the University Hospital in Salt Lake City. Tests there revealed that surgery was necessary, and during the operation, Jess’s leg was amputated above the knee.
Five days after the operation he came home and began chemotherapy and other treatments. At times the medication made him so sick he wouldn’t recover for a week. Afterwards, however, he would return to school where he was student-body vice-president and editor of the yearbook. He also began wrestling, the only sport in which he could participate.
By Christmas, the treatments had drained Jess’s body of all energy. But he began to feel better after chemotherapy had ended, and he earned the Life Scout award.
The National Boy Scout Jamboree in Pennsylvania was held the following spring, and Jess was able to attend, even though his monthly checkup in April revealed lung cancer. Upon his return, it was discovered the tumors in his lungs had doubled in size and another operation was imperative. Afterwards, Jess’s activities were severely curtailed and he was able to complete only two six-week terms the entire school year. Though he longed to return to school and participate in the activities, he was unable to do so.
Yet more than anything, Jess wanted to become an Eagle Scout, and during this time he began in earnest to accomplish that goal. To fill his days and keep his mind occupied, he worked on merit badges. His mother helped him by calling or taking papers to members of the Scout committee. His younger brother, Tom, and members of his troop, finished gathering the aluminum cans needed to complete his Eagle project.
Finally all of Jess’s application forms were in and approval was up to the board of review. On the second Sunday in May they came to the Gneiting home and interviewed Jess. His papers were sent immediately to the National Council in the East where approval generally takes from two weeks to a month. But Jess didn’t have that much time—each day he was getting weaker, and breathing had become so labored that he couldn’t live without an oxygen supply. The Scout office in Idaho Falls called headquarters to push Jess’s papers through, and as soon as they received approval, the court of honor was scheduled.
In May Jess received the Eagle award. Almost everyone in Lewisville attended the ceremony, including every Scout leader in the district. Jess’s brother James made the presentation. Jess himself presented the flag to Bishop R. LaVon Walker of the Lewisville First Ward, Rigby Idaho Stake, to be used by the small community.
On June 15, the Gneiting family went fishing at a nearby lake. That evening, for the first time since he had become ill, Jess let his father carry him into the house, and before he went to sleep, Jess told his parents, “I won’t make it through tomorrow.” At one the next afternoon, he died.
But nothing, not even cancer, had kept him from accomplishing his life’s goal—to become an Eagle Scout—a privilege he enjoyed for almost three weeks. (Written by Joyce Lindstrom)

A few days ago we had a faith-promoting report from a young mission president and his wife who have just been released from presiding over a mission in Peru, where recently there was experienced one of the worst calamities in the history of the world, in which an estimated seventy thousand persons were buried when an earthquake moved an entire mountain over two cities, which were completely destroyed. We had four missionaries laboring there, two in each city. When the earthquake came, they were at the Lord’s business; two of our elders were teaching a gospel lesson on the outskirts of the town and the other two were in a preparation meeting in another city.
After the three terrifying days of semidarkness from the choking dust, they philosophized that this might be like the time when the Savior was crucified, when there were three days of darkness, and when he would come again, when two should be grinding at the mill, and one would be taken and the other left; two would be working in the field, and one would be taken and the other one left. (See Matt. 24:40–41.)
When an earthquake strikes, every person would be taken as he is then living—if at a movie, or a tavern, or in a drunken stupor, or whatever. But the true servants of God, who would be doing their duty, would be protected and preserved, if they would do as the Lord has counseled: to “stand ye in holy places, and be not moved,” when these days should come. (D&C 87:8.)

As a child, Amanda Robledo had no spiritual remedy for the physical pain she suffered after her mother died. And her husband, Ricardo, could find no answers to his heartfelt religious questions following the death of his brother.
One of those questions was, Is there a church on earth that follows the teachings of Jesus Christ? Their search for that church and for answers to their questions ultimately prepared them to accept the restored gospel.
As they searched, they attended different denominations and investigated various religious beliefs. They looked for a church that not only conformed to Christ’s teachings but would also strengthen their family.
“This was a difficult time for our family,” recalls Amanda, “and we knew we needed a church to help us.”
In the early 1990s the Robledos moved with their four children from Mendoza, in northwest Argentina, to Ushuaia. When they were introduced to the Church two years later, they perceived immediately that there was something different about both the spirit and the teachings of the full-time missionaries.
Amanda knew little of Latter-day Saints. “And what I had heard wasn’t good,” she says. But she, Ricardo, and their children resonated to what they were learning.
“I felt the Spirit when the missionaries taught us,” says their daughter Bárbara, who was 11 at the time. “And I liked it when they taught us that we could pray as a family.”
Taking the missionary discussions, reading the Book of Mormon, and attending church, Ricardo says, “gave us all the answers we were seeking—answers about baptism, pre-earth life, the divinity of Christ, the immortality of man, gospel ordinances, marriage, and the eternal nature of the family.”
For the Robledos, learning that their family could be together forever was the crowning doctrine of the restored gospel.
“My conversion came at that moment,” says Ricardo, who was baptized less than three weeks after the first discussion and now serves as second counselor in the district presidency. “I suffered when I lost a brother at age 49, but I understood that I could reclaim him by doing his temple work. This assurance gave me peace and happiness.”
Amanda, baptized a short while later with one of their sons, says, “I haven’t had my mother since I was very young. I always thought I had lost her, and this caused me a lot of pain. But when the missionaries told us that a family can be together forever, it really touched my heart. It is wonderful to think that I will see her again.”
After Ricardo and Amanda were married for eternity in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple, their children were sealed to them. Being sealed as a family, completing ordinance work for many deceased family members, and sending three of their children on full-time missions have brought Ricardo and Amanda great joy.
“One of the greatest blessings we have received as members of the Church,” Amanda says, “is that our children obey God.”

At the beginning of each year, my family sets goals that we try to complete throughout the year. One of the goals I set was to read the scriptures every other night. I wasn’t doing very well for the first few months of the year. Usually when I get home from church I put my scriptures in the stairway. One day my mom said, “How can you complete your goal of reading the scriptures when they are sitting in the stairway?” So that night I read my scriptures. I have been reading them almost every night since then. They are a blessing, and I’m thankful for them. They give me the power to feel the Spirit and be happy.
Mathieu Q., age 8, Wisconsin

When I returned from my mission, I met a beautiful young woman with long black hair down to her waist. She had beautiful, big honey eyes and a contagious smile. She captivated me from the first moment I saw her.
My wife had set the goal to get married in the temple, although back then the nearest temple required a trip of over 4,000 miles (6,400 km).
Our civil marriage ceremony was both happy and sad, for we were married with an expiration date. The officer pronounced the words “And now I declare you husband and wife,” but immediately after, he said, “until death do you part.”
So with sacrifice we set out to purchase a one-way ticket to the Mesa Arizona Temple.
In the temple, as we were kneeling down at the altar, an authorized servant pronounced the words I longed for, which declared us husband and wife for time and for all eternity.
A friend took us to Sunday School. During the meeting he stood up and introduced us to the class. As the meeting came to a close, a brother approached me and shook my hand, leaving a 20-dollar bill in it. Soon after, another brother reached out to me as well, and to my surprise, he also left a bill in my hand. I quickly looked for my wife, who was across the room, and shouted, “Blanquy, shake hands with everyone!”
Soon we had gathered enough money to return to Guatemala.

“What’s a testimony?” I asked my mom one Sunday as we were getting ready for church. I knew it was fast Sunday, which meant that people would be “bearing their testimony,” and I wasn’t sure what a testimony was.
My sister Diana hurried by, and Mom asked her, “What do you think a testimony is, Diana?”
“I think it’s when the Holy Ghost tells you something is true,” she said. “We’ve been studying about Jesus in seminary. I have a testimony that Jesus loves me and died for me. It’s a good feeling inside to know that Jesus will help me when I have problems.”
“We can have a testimony of many things, Bryan,” Mom said. “Bearing a testimony means you tell why you know a gospel principle is true.”
“I have an idea, Bryan,” Mom said later as we were going into the chapel. “Why don’t you write down all the things that the people bear testimony of in sacrament meeting today?”
“I can help you spell the people’s names,” Daddy said. “Pretend that you are a secretary or reporter. It will help you learn what a testimony is.”
After the sacrament, Daddy handed me a piece of paper and a pencil. At the top he had written “Name, Testimony” and had drawn a big line underneath. I felt like a news reporter as I wrote down everything.
Brother Nielson talked about how his prayers had been answered that week, and I wrote “prayer” beside his name.
Brother Brown, who seemed like the oldest person in the ward, bore his testimony next. He told how a priesthood blessing had saved his sister’s life. Daddy showed me how to spell “priesthood.” I know that when I have a sick stomach or a really sore throat and Daddy gives me a blessing, I feel better immediately. Sometimes my stomach or throat still hurts, but I feel better. It’s like the feeling I have when I have a bad dream and Mom comes and holds me and tells me about Jesus. After she does this, the bad feeling goes away and I feel sleepy again. I think I have a testimony of priesthood blessings, just like Brother Brown.
Sister Hatty cried when she bore her testimony about how glad she was that families can be together forever. Daddy whispered to me that Sister Hatty’s father had died the week before. I couldn’t think what to write down as her testimony, so Daddy finally spelled out “resurrection” for me.
As I wrote the names and topics, a strange feeling began to grow in me.
“Daddy,” I whispered a few minutes later, “how old do you have to be to bear a testimony?”
“You can bear your testimony when you’re old enough to have a testimony,” Daddy whispered back.
“Can someone my age bear his testimony?” I finally whispered.
“If a person is old enough to know what a testimony is,” Daddy whispered back, “he can bear it. Children know things are true just like grownups.”
When Mitchell went up to bear his testimony, the funny feeling inside me grew bigger. Mitchell was still in elementary school, like me. Mitchell said he was glad that his older brother, Aaron, was serving a mission. Mitchell said he wanted to go on a mission, too, when he got older. I wrote down “mission” by Mitchell’s name and thought how wonderful it would be to be a missionary like Aaron. Mitchell said that missionaries bear their testimonies all the time.
It was then that I decided I wanted to bear my testimony. I wasn’t old enough to be a missionary, but I could tell what I believed in. Daddy smiled and gave me a hug when I whispered that I was going to bear my testimony.
When Sister Morris sat down, I took a deep breath and started walking to the front of the chapel. I felt really scared, and I wished I could run back to my seat beside Daddy. But the feeling that I wanted to bear my testimony kept me moving toward the front.
“I love Heavenly Father and Jesus,” I said shakily and very loudly. I paused, and I felt better. “I like to read the Book of Mormon. I get a good feeling when I read it, even when I don’t understand all of it. I like to pray. I know Heavenly Father answers my prayers.” The wonderful feeling had spread all over me, and I felt warm and safe, like when I am wrapped in Daddy’s strong arms.
I felt really good when I finished my testimony, and I quickly walked back to Mom and Daddy. Diana gave me a big hug as I squeezed in by her. I whispered to her, “A testimony is a really good feeling that makes you happy inside, Diana, just like you said.” Then I added, “Bearing your testimony makes the good feeling inside feel even better.”

I had a really rough time when I didn’t have as strong a testimony as I wanted to. I was scared that I would fall away from the Church, and it sent me into a pattern where I did not want to come to church. However, at a baptism, somebody bore their testimony that they had followed the path that Church leaders and their parents had set out for them, and they eventually gained a testimony of their own. This helped me a lot, and now I love to go to church.
Kaden W., age, Utah, USA