Gospel Story Finder

Recently I was hospitalized to have open-heart surgery. I shared a room with a young lady who was blind due to diabetes and was to have surgery to renew her eyesight. I spoke briefly to her parents who told me that her last surgery had not been successful. They were praying very hard for her, and they promised to pray for me that night as well. I thought it was beautiful of them to even care. That evening the girl’s family came from many different states to visit her before her surgery the next morning. I couldn’t believe it—seven brothers and a great set of parents! It was such a beautiful picture. To this day I don’t know how they made it past the nurses’ station. We were only allowed two visitors at a time. After they left, Rhena asked me to pray with her, and I did. The next morning we both were frightened, but as we talked, she said to me, “Mrs. McDonald, we don’t need to be frightened because Heavenly Father is watching over us.” We prayed again, and as we prayed I felt the Spirit. Then the anesthesiologist came in and gave Rhena her medication for surgery.
I didn’t see her afterwards because she was in intensive care for about a week. During that week her folks visited me, introduced me to the missionaries, and left me a copy of the Book of Mormon. I began to read it and prayed to know of its truthfulness. I was to leave the hospital that Saturday, and Brother DeVito offered me his home, and he and his wife took care of me until I was able to return home to California. That following Saturday their daughter was released from the hospital, and thanks to everyone’s prayers, that beautiful young girl can see. I was really impressed with them as a family and just love them for showing me the gospel. Recently I found a March 1979 issue of the New Era and read an article called “A Blind Man Helped Me See.” I can relate very well to that because I have joined the Church and so have 23 members of my family.
Joyce McDonaldSan Diego, California

Gift of memories. My parents were struggling to start a new business the year I was 15, and money was scarce in our family. They believed in making the best of difficult circumstances, so we took a day trip to the land my dad was leasing to cut an evergreen desert bush for our Christmas tree and to enjoy a winter picnic together in the snow with homemade chili and hot chocolate.
My two sisters and I decided to put our money together to buy Mom and Dad something to lift their spirits. We bought a photo album and supplies, went home, and filled it with family pictures, starting with their wedding portrait. We had a wonderful time laughing and reminiscing together as we put our favorite photos in the album.
We each had one small present to open on Christmas morning, but it didn’t matter when we watched our parents’ eyes light up as they opened their gift. It was a memorable Christmas filled with love, laughter, and unity.Sally O., Utah

One day in 1961 while Elder Slagowski and I were knocking on doors in Wilhelmshaven, West Germany, an elderly widow graciously welcomed us into her humble apartment. I was so surprised that I asked if she really understood who we were. She assured us that she did and that she had been waiting for us.
She told us that two Latter-day Saint elders had knocked on her door decades before, when she was a young mother. Because she was busy at the time, she had turned them away. Afterward she felt terrible about it and vowed that if Latter-day Saint missionaries ever knocked again, she would invite them in.
Emma Henke had a keen mind, and she listened to our message intently, but she often seemed to have a distant, far-off look. She was kind to us and was always eager to share her meager fare, but we wondered if she truly comprehended the importance of our message. Finally we decided to put her on our callback list and just drop by from time to time when we were in the neighborhood.
A few weeks later we stopped in again. As we visited, Emma suddenly announced, to our surprise, her determination to be baptized!
It was only then that she began sharing details from her difficult life. During the last days of World War I, her infant daughter had died. In 1924 a nine-year-old daughter had succumbed to diphtheria. During the winter of 1941–42 she had received her last letter from her 21-year-old son, who was fighting on the Russian front during World War II. She learned of his death a short time later.
Emma’s husband, Hugo, had despised the policies of the Nazi government. She often pleaded with him to be more cautious. Early one day in 1944, after a government radio-beam locator tracked a British Broadcasting Corporation signal to the Henkes’ home, the Gestapo broke down the door and arrested him. He was sent to a concentration camp near Hamburg, and Emma and their last surviving child, a young son, were left to fend for themselves.
Emma went to the local Nazi official responsible for her husband’s imprisonment and pleaded on her knees for his life but to no avail. She later learned of Hugo’s death in March 1945. The official himself was subsequently sentenced to life in prison but had been released shortly before we knocked on Emma’s door. She said she often saw him speeding along the streets of the city in an expensive new car. On the day she requested baptism, Emma said she had finally found the strength to forgive him for taking away her husband and rejecting her pleas for mercy. She had resolved to leave judgment in the hands of the Lord.
Emma became a faithful member of the Church and found great joy and comfort in discovering the truths of the restored gospel. In November 1966, while hurrying across a public square in Wilhelmshaven on her way to a Relief Society meeting, she collapsed and died of a heart attack.
Sister Henke refused to become embittered by the trials of her life, and she died free of the rancor of revenge. Surely this dear sister enjoyed a marvelous reunion with those she had loved and lost.

All of us were blessed by the challenge from President Gordon B. Hinckley in August 2005 to read the Book of Mormon by the end of that year. In extending the challenge, President Hinckley promised that faithfully observing this simple reading program would bring into our lives and into our homes “an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to His commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God.”

Please note how this inspired challenge is a classic example of learning by faith. First, you and I were not commanded, coerced, or required to read. Rather, we were invited to exercise our agency as agents and act in accordance with correct principles. President Hinckley, as an inspired teacher, encouraged us to act and not just be acted upon. Each of us, ultimately, had to decide if and how we would respond to the challenge—and if we would endure to the end of the task.

Second, in proffering the invitation to read and to act, President Hinckley was encouraging each of us to seek learning by faith. No new study materials were distributed to members of the Church, and no additional lessons, classes, or programs were created by the Church. Each of us had our copy of the Book of Mormon, and a pathway into our heart opened wider through the exercise of our faith in the Savior as we responded to the First Presidency challenge. Thus, we were prepared to receive instruction from the only true teacher, the Holy Ghost.

I was feeling down one day at Young Women camp, so I decided to sit in the wooded arena where we gathered for skits. I sat there for about 10 minutes when I had the sudden thought to leave and go back to my cabin. At first, I ignored the idea and just remained where I was. The longer I sat, the more uneasy I felt, and the stronger the urge to go became.
Finally, I obeyed the prompting. I walked back up to my cabin and hung out with a few of my friends and some of the cabin leaders. Not more than 10 minutes later, everyone was forced to enter the cabins because there was a grizzly bear in the area. We found out later that the bear was spotted in the same place I’d been sitting moments earlier. I was so relieved that I had been prompted to move and that I had obeyed the prompting. I knew the Lord was watching over me. Then and there I could feel the love that God has for me. I knew that He knew me, and that was such a relief, especially since I had been feeling so sad earlier.

“Carson is here today,” James’s mom said, pointing to a boy in the hallway by the Primary room.
James groaned. Carson was wearing jeans and an old shirt. James knew his mom and dad would never let him wear anything like that to church, but they would never let him get away with a lot of the other things Carson did either.
Last week at school, Carson had been kicked out of class for talking back to the teacher. He always made fun of the way James dressed and gave him a hard time for being the shortest boy at school.
“What if he yells at Sister Win or starts a fight?” James asked.
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Mom said. “Carson has never been to church, and he’s probably nervous.”
When class started, Sister Win asked who had brought their scriptures. James raised his hand along with the rest of the class, but Carson shook his head. He looked embarrassed, which surprised James. Carson usually made a joke when he didn’t do his homework. But the more James thought about it, the more he wondered what it would be like to go to a new church for the first time.
Sister Win handed Carson her scriptures to use. When it was Carson’s turn to read a scripture, James began to worry. What if Carson tossed the scriptures on the floor or refused to read?
But Carson didn’t do any of those things. He stared at the words on the page and scowled. After a moment, James realized that Carson couldn’t read very well. James had never noticed this before at school.
What do you think James will do? Will James laugh at Carson? Will he ignore him? What would you do if you were James? Turn the page to find out what happened.
James leaned over to Carson and whispered, “Verily.”
Carson looked surprised, but he said the word and continued reading the verse. When he struggled with a word, James helped him with it. At the end of his turn, Carson looked over at James and gave a small nod.
James wasn’t sure if things were going to be different at school after this. The funny thing was that he didn’t care. He felt good knowing he had helped a boy who always gave him a hard time, and nobody could take that feeling away.

When I was 30 years old, I was visiting the Nagoya mission as part of my work. After the meeting, the mission president kindly arranged for the elders to drive me to the airport. However, as we reached the intersection at the bottom of a long hill, a large truck came barreling down from behind us at great speed. It rammed into the rear of our car and propelled it forward more than 70 feet (20 m). The terrifying part of all of this was there was no driver. The rear of our car was compacted to half its original size. Fortunately, both the elders and I survived.
However, on the following day, I began experiencing pain in my neck and shoulders and developed a severe headache. From that day, I couldn’t sleep and I was forced to live each day with both physical and mental pain. I prayed to God to please heal my pain, but these symptoms lingered on for about 10 years.
At this time, feelings of doubt also began creeping into my mind, and I wondered, “Why do I have to suffer this much pain?” However, even though the kind of healing I sought was not granted, I strove to be faithful in keeping God’s commandments. I continued to pray that I would be able to resolve the questions I had about my trials.
There came a time when I found myself struggling with a few additional personal issues, and I was agitated because I did not know how to cope with this new trial. I was praying for an answer. But I didn’t receive an answer right away. So I went and talked with a trusted Church leader.
As we were talking, with love in his voice, he said, “Brother Aoyagi, isn’t your purpose for being on this earth to experience this trial? Isn’t it to accept all the trials of this life for what they are and then leave the rest up to the Lord? Don’t you think that this problem will be resolved when we are resurrected?”
When I heard these words, I felt the Spirit of the Lord very strongly. I had heard this doctrine countless times, but the eyes of my understanding had never been opened to the extent they were at this time. I understood this was the answer that I had been seeking from the Lord in my prayers. I was able to clearly comprehend our Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation and understand anew this important principle.
Let’s now consider that rear-end collision in Nagoya. I could have died in that accident. Nevertheless, through the Lord’s grace, I miraculously survived. And I know that my sufferings were for my learning and for my growth.5 Heavenly Father schooled me to temper my impatience, to develop empathy, and to comfort those who are suffering. When I realized this, my heart was filled with feelings of thankfulness toward my Heavenly Father for this trial.

To discover for myself what each of the routes would have been like, I recently walked both of them. Both routes are about ninety-two miles long. Normal walking pace, even with a camel or donkey, is three miles per hour. So a traveler can usually walk between seventeen and twenty-four miles each day. Each route took me about thirty hours to walk—seventeen to twenty miles a day for five days.

On the way to a Sunday meeting, the stake president and I saw a couple walking along the road with a baby and two small children. We stopped to offer them a ride. They were surprised and delighted. When I asked how far they needed to walk to the chapel, the father replied that it could take 45 minutes to an hour, depending on the children’s pace. They faced this journey back and forth, every Sunday, with no complaints—only smiling faces and grateful hearts.

“I remember another special prayer, too. My brother was suffering with a painful abscess. The doctor told us that he would have to have surgery. Our home teachers came and with my father blessed him. The next day the doctor checked again and the abscess had disappeared.”

Ten toots of a whistle,
Five waves of a hand,
Three clicks of a shutter and you’re gone.
The days and weeks,
The mornings and evenings,
The failures, the triumphs,
The oneness
Are strings of confetti in the water,
Slowly fading to gray,
to white,
to nothing in the patient sea.
Marks scratched in a dusty black book are all I
have now;
The ghost of a man
Who once was half my mind.

One day while I was reading the Liahona (Spanish), I found a phrase that remained in my mind and heart: “Adversity can make you strong” (September 1993, 33). I thought about how adversity is an essential part of our Father in Heaven’s plan, but I never imagined I would later find in this phrase the strength to go forward against the challenges of life.
The town in the Argentina Buenos Aires North Mission where my companion and I were working was filled with people of other religions who viewed two boys in white shirts and ties with great distrust. We had knocked on many doors, but the results were not encouraging.
Summer days in Buenos Aires are very warm (usually around 30 degrees Celsius) and also very humid. There is little wind. We usually traveled from one place to another on bicycles. Things were already quite hot and difficult one day—our tired bodies could practically go no further—and then it began to rain. We decided to set out on foot. The mud stuck to our shoes, and walking was almost an acrobatic performance.
As a result of this adversity, we wanted to return home. Then I remembered that phrase from the Liahona and told my companion, “Come on, Elder. All this adversity is going to make us strong.” We offered a prayer, and we both felt we should look up an old referral we had never been able to find.
We arrived at the house, and once again the woman was not there. Nevertheless, another woman, Anita, was there. She spoke with us and seemed quite pleasant, so we left a copy of the Book of Mormon with her. She promised to read it. We felt great happiness in our hearts, for the Spirit had indeed led us to her.
We returned the following day, and Anita accepted all the principles we taught her. But when it was time to teach her the fourth discussion, she told us she did not want to be baptized and that it would be better if we left the house. My companion and I were very disappointed, but we knew we were going to have opposition. So we invited her to pray and ask the Lord if she should be baptized. We trusted that she would receive an answer.
We went back the next day, and Anita had indeed received her answer in an undeniable way. Her heart was filled with peace. Ten days later, she was baptized. She finished reading the Book of Mormon and found in it an inextinguishable fountain of knowledge and inspiration.
I have since learned that after one year of active membership Anita made covenants in the holy temple and that she became a source of referrals for the missionaries and a great example to the members of her community, who began to change their views of the Church.
Today I value all the opposition my companion and I had because that was how we found the strength to serve the Lord in the best way we could. Even now that I have returned to my home in Chile, I do not become discouraged with the problems that arise in life because I know adversity will strengthen me.

Before I joined the Church, I was living with my parents in the Freeport area of Monrovia, Liberia. In April 2010, my father passed away and I went to stay with his brother who was a member of the Church. Before inviting me, my uncle told me that he wanted me to attend his Church and if I was satisfied with it, I could continue attending. If I was not satisfied, he would not force me to attend. The first day I attended church, I was a little bit confused because of the way they worshipped. Many people came around me and smiled, spoke to me and were very friendly. At other churches I did not feel that friendliness.
The missionaries started teaching me and taught me about the Book of Mormon. They asked me to read, pray and ponder about it and ask Heavenly Father if this book is true. I did that. Later, they asked me to be baptized and I said yes. I got baptized in May 2013. My mother was Muslim, and she loved the Church. She came to my baptism so she could witness it.

In May 2010, over 1,200 youth from eight stakes in British Columbia and the Bellingham Washington Stake gathered in Vancouver for a temple celebration marking the completion of the Vancouver British Columbia Temple.
The celebration, titled “A Beacon to the World,” highlighted the land, history, and people of British Columbia. Part of the celebration included the youth’s guiding 172 of the area’s oldest Church members down to the floor for recognition. After dancing and performing music for the program, the youth closed the program by joining hands and circling around a replica of the temple.
Sabrina Blackmore, 17, of the Blackmore Ward in the Prince George British Columbia Stake, rode 15 hours on a bus to participate in the event. “This is the best experience ever,” she said.

When I was twelve years of age I was drowned; at any rate, I lay in thirty feet of water long enough to drown anyone. After several unsuccessful attempts, I was brought up out of the water. This was under the Farmington mill dam. I was just as dead as I shall be thirty years [from now]. I lay on my back and saw the sun go out, and passed through all the sensations of death that any man would in drowning. After an hour’s labor, I was brought around to life again. I shall not go into the particulars of many of these things, but I have passed through what may be termed death a number of times in my life.

Our beloved quorum president, Marion G. Romney, is not able to be with us here today. My, how we miss his companionship and his wit, his experience and his leadership! President Romney has had some doors swing closed for him even in the work of his ministry. He has known considerable pain and discouragement and has seen his plans changed during these past few years. But it was he who, from this very pulpit a few years ago, said that all men and women, including the most faithful and loyal, would find adversity and affliction in their lives because, in the words of Joseph Smith, “Men have to suffer that they may come upon Mount Zion and be exalted above the heavens” (History of the Church, 5:556; see Conference Report, Oct. 1969, p. 57; or Improvement Era, Dec. 1969, p. 66).

President Romney then said:
“This does not mean that we crave suffering. We avoid all we can. However, we now know, and we all knew when we elected to come into mortality, that we would here be proved in the crucible of adversity and affliction. …
“[Furthermore,] the Father’s plan for proving [and refining] his children did not exempt the Savior himself. The suffering he undertook to endure, and which he did endure, equaled the combined suffering of all men [and women everywhere. Trembling and bleeding and wishing to shrink from the cup, he said,] ‘I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men’ (D&C 19:18–19)” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1969, p. 57; or Improvement Era, Dec. 1969, pp. 66–67).

Many years later, when I was grown up and had my own family, we heard the message of the gospel of Jesus Christ when the missionaries knocked on our door. There was something in these missionaries—a glow of trust, a glow of hope, a glow of security, and a glow of love—that looked in the beginning to us like a fairy tale.
Could it be true? Could it really be true that we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father and that through the Spirit of Jesus Christ I could come to an understanding of the feelings I had had at Christmastime in my childhood? Because this door opened, the understanding that led to our conversion and baptism helped us see that we could experience Christmas every day when we focus always on Him, listen to Him, and embrace Him with a loving, grateful heart. What joy came to my family when we opened our souls to the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ!

As Sister Simpson and I walked along lower Queen Street in Auckland, New Zealand, the other day, we came to a particular place not far from the wharf. There we paused for a few moments as I related to her the incident that took place at that very spot during my first mission.

I could still see in my mind’s eye a very old Maori couple who stood at the curb with thousands of others waving farewell to the Maori Battalion as they marched down to their troop transport and off to war.

The old couple became very excited as one young soldier glanced their way with a big smile. From their Maori conversation, it became apparent that this was their great-grandson going off to war.

His would be an atomic war with sophisticated equipment capable of killing by the thousands—so unlike the Maori wars of the late 1800s that the old Maori had participated in as a young tribal warrior.

Soon the boy was gone from view, and it was then that the old man turned to his wife and said (perhaps a little cynically), “Ka tahi kua pakeha tatou,” which in effect means, “So now we are civilized.”

He smiled as he reminded his daughter of one of her favorite rides at the amusement park when she was younger. “Remember how much time you used to spend on that large spinning platform? You and the other children would scramble toward the center and try to hold your places as the huge platform spun around. It was just like a giant turntable.”
“Oh, yes,” the daughter replied. “Once that turntable started spinning, the children closest to the edge went sliding off just like that cotton ball, and the ones who managed to hold their position near the center stayed on. I tried my best to work my way from the edge toward the center, but it was a real struggle. I had to crawl and pull myself along. And if that weren’t hard enough, I always had to watch out for the children who didn’t make it to the center, because they usually grabbed someone else as they spun off and tried to take them with them.”
“In a way, life is like that,” her father explained. “There are struggles, and people going downward sometimes tend to drag those nearby down with them. We, on the other hand, are trying to climb against those forces that are pulling us down.

An example from Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables, though fictional, has always touched and inspired me. Near the beginning of the story, Bishop Bienvenu gives food and overnight shelter to the homeless Jean Valjean, who has just been released from 19 years in prison for having stolen a loaf of bread to feed his sister’s starving children. Hardened and embittered, Valjean rewards Bishop Bienvenu’s kindness by stealing his silver goods. Later detained by suspicious gendarmes, Valjean falsely claims the silver was a gift to him. When the gendarmes drag him back to the bishop’s house, to Valjean’s great surprise, Bishop Bienvenu confirms his story and for good effect says, “‘But! I gave you the candlesticks also, which are silver like the rest, and would bring two hundred francs. Why did you not take them along with your plates?’ …
“The bishop approached him, and said, in a low voice:
“‘Forget not, never forget that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man.’
“Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of this promise, stood confounded. The bishop … continued, solemnly:
“‘Jean Valjean, my brother: you belong no longer to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I am buying for you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God!’”
Jean Valjean indeed became a new man, an honest man and a benefactor to many. Throughout his life he kept the two silver candlesticks to remind him that his life had been redeemed for God.6