Gospel Story Finder

James Peter Fugal was an honest man! He herded sheep much of his life in the rolling hills of Idaho. On one bitterly cold winter night, he was herding sheep for another man when a blizzard set in. The sheep bunched together, as sheep do, in the corner of a fenced area, and many died.
Though the death of the sheep was no fault of his, James Fugal felt responsible and spent the next several years working and saving to repay the owner for his lost sheep.

Growing up in Thailand, I sometimes felt like the odd one out as a Christian. But even though I believed differently than most of the people around me, I never felt ashamed or wanted to give up the gospel of Jesus Christ. I always loved the truths it taught me, and I did my best to follow them.

But then tragedy struck my family. And for the first time in my life, I really had to choose, develop, and hold on to faith in one of the cornerstones of the gospel—God’s plan of salvation.

In 2014, my family and I were sealed in the Hong Kong Temple. I had waited for this day for so long and was so excited. But shortly after we were able to experience this beautiful ordinance, my father passed away unexpectedly.

I was struck with terrible, overwhelming grief. I didn’t know how my family and I would be able to cope with the loss of my dad. It felt like a whole piece of us was gone. How could we endure life without him?

In this dark time, as I turned to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ for comfort, I learned how to deepen my testimony of the plan of salvation and eternal families.

I had always been taught and believed that families could be together forever. But facing a difficult loss really shook this part of my testimony. I wanted and needed to know that I would see my dad again one day. I began to want to learn more about the doctrine of eternal families.

President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, recently taught:
“It is through the sealing covenants in the temple that we can receive the assurance of loving family connections that will continue after death and last for eternity. …
“Trials, challenges, and heartaches will surely come to all of us. … Yet, as we attend the temple and remember our covenants, we can prepare to receive personal direction from the Lord.”

And it’s true! When I was struggling so much to feel the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in my life after my dad died, studying this comforting covenant and blessing helped me see small inklings of Their love and light again.

Our temple sealing became even more meaningful to me after my dad passed away. And I realized that all covenants Heavenly Father invites us to make and keep are beautiful privileges for us.

Covenants aren’t just simple promises—they are the key to helping us invite the power of the Savior into our lives. They allow us to keep moving and hoping, despite the heartbreak and challenges of life. Because of the greater access I have to Jesus Christ’s healing power, I can endure to the end with joy, knowing that I’ll see my dad again.

As President Eyring promised, “‘No matter the outcome, all will be well because of temple covenants.’”

I’m so grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the continuous hope and peace it brings, especially when I need peace in times of uncertainty and loss. I still feel grief, but my covenants warm my heart and help me keep going with hope.

During December, my seminary teacher invited our class to bring food and presents for a family in need. We didn’t know the circumstances—only that there was a husband and wife with three little girls, ages 5 to 10 years old.
A few days before Christmas, I met my classmates in the seminary building with a Barbie doll and some boxes of macaroni and cheese in my hands. I was surprised to see that our class had filled not one box but several boxes with canned food, a large cooked turkey, baked goods, and toys.
We wrapped all the presents and carpooled to the family’s home. Most of us hid behind bushes and watched as a few boys quietly carried the boxes to the doorstep of the small, run-down home. Wanting our contributions to be anonymous, the boys rang the doorbell and ran.
From our hiding places, we watched a small girl in her pajamas open the door and squeal. One by one her sisters joined her, each screaming with delight as they saw the many boxes overflowing with presents.
The door widened and, as the mother stepped out, we could see a small Christmas tree with no presents beneath it in the center of their living room.
I saw the mother look around, bewildered. She then fell to her knees and began to cry. We saw her look up and heard her pray: “Thank Thee, God. Oh, thank Thee for sending Thine angels to give my children Christmas.”
We drove back to the seminary building in silence. No one thought of the doughnuts or hot chocolate waiting for us. Instead, there was a tangible feeling of love, peace, and gratitude.
When I got home that night, I sat on my bed and prayed to Heavenly Father, thanking Him for letting me act as His angel for a night. I realized that “I have been given much” and that part of that blessing requires that “I too must give” (“Because I Have Been Given Much,” Hymns, no. 219), which was the greatest blessing of all.

“At first, I felt some pressure to go to choir because my friends were going,” says Ben Young. “But after the first time I was going because I wanted to. Singing gives us more time together with our friends.”

Maybe it will be difficult to understand this at your age, but our testimony is something that we will take with us to the next life. We will leave all our earthly possessions behind, but that knowledge, that inner conviction, will remain with us. Think of Joseph Smith: those who took his life could not take his chief possession—his testimony. The Prophet Joseph took that priceless possession with him through death’s veil into eternity, where the Lord had promised him “a throne for you in the kingdom of my Father” (D&C 132:49). But at the same time, that testimony, together with “a fame and name that cannot be slain” (D&C 135:3), remains here with us. We hear the resounding witness of God’s Prophet testifying “that [Christ] lives! For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father” (D&C 76:22–23).

Sister Joy Huang and Brother Kyle helped us physically and spiritually. They loved our family and they helped us go to the Taiwan Museum. They helped us travel in a public bus and to feel the life experience of Taiwan. My son and daughter accepted them like a mother and father because of their love and affection.

My Uncle Mons Andersen had said to us that we must go to his folks in Lehi. That same evening a fisherman was going past Lehi and said he could take two of us. So Mother and my brother Mathias went with him. Then someone would come after the rest of us. The train could not take us there for the track was then only laid to the Point of the Mountain. So the rest of us stayed in the tithing yard till the next day. All that day no one came. But the next day, July 20, 1872, a man by the name of Mathias Petersen from Lehi came for us in a brand-new wagon. Happy were we. We came as far as this side of Sandy and stopped overnight. The next day, this being Sunday morning, July 21, 1872, we arrived in Lehi.

Now I must say a little about Sunday, July 21, 1872. As I said before, we camped overnight on the state road this side of Sandy. It was a beautiful morning, and time came for us to have something to eat before starting. There were five of us in all, and we had some baked wheat bread. There was a farmhouse some distance away, so Mathias Petersen, our driver, went over there to see if he could get some milk to go with the bread. He soon came back and a lady with him with a pan full of sweet milk. It was my first night camping out and my first meal of wheat bread and sweet milk. I shall never forget how good it tasted to me. I was overjoyed. Oh, how good I thought that lady was to bring us that good milk! I don’t know if she was a Mormon or not. But at that time I thought all the people in Utah were Mormons so, of course, I thought she was. So it was another step to me to gain a little better feeling for Mormonism.

In fact, many LDS youth here look at music as a worthwhile way to employ their time. For example, Sara Williams, 16, her brother, Tyler, 18, and Rebecca Howell, 15, all members of the Byrd Springs Ward, are among 10 Latter-day Saints in the award-winning Virgil I. Grissom High School marching band.
“Through band, you learn to appreciate all kinds of music,” Sara says. “But band teaches you a lot of other things, too.”
“It teaches teamwork, especially marching band, because you can’t march a solo,” she says. “You gain good friends in the band, because you work so hard together.”
And yet, in some ways, Sara is familiar with the all-alone routine. It’s an experience born of standing up for her standards.
“Someone would say, ‘We want to watch this movie.’ And I’d say, ‘What’s it rated?’ At first they’d say, ‘Oh, come on.’ But now they know I will not watch an R-rated movie. And they know I don’t come out on Sundays and go places with them, because it’s the Sabbath. They respect me a lot for what I believe.”
And the respect is mutual. “The kids in the band all have pretty good standards, to where you’re not the only one who is saying, ‘No, I will not drink or smoke,’ or ‘No, I will not have sex before marriage.’ Like it says in For the Strength of Youth, they’re a good influence, so I enjoy hanging out with them.”

I’m the king of this mountain!
Then I’m the queen of this mountain!
I could conquer your mountain!
You mean you could try to!
“I’m trying to be like Jesus; I’m following in his ways.”
“I’m trying to love as he did, in all that I do and say.”
“Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do.”*
After you, Queen Mandy.
No, after you, King Matt.

While we were growing up in a small community, my father saw the need for my brother and me to learn the principle of work. As a result, he put us to work on a small farm on the edge of town where he had been raised. He ran the local newspaper, so he could not spend much time with us except early in the morning and in the evening. That was quite a responsibility for two young teenagers, and sometimes we made mistakes.
Our small farm was surrounded by other farms, and one of the farmers went in to see my father one day to tell him the things he thought we were doing wrong. My father listened to him carefully and then said, “Jim, you don’t understand. You see, I’m raising boys and not cows.” After my father’s death, Jim told us his story. How grateful I was for a father who decided to raise boys, and not cows. In spite of the mistakes, we learned how to work on that little farm, and I guess, although they didn’t say it in so many words, we always knew we were more important to Mother and Father than the cows or, for that matter, anything else.

Several years ago, our family decided to pack our bags, leave our home, and go on an adventure outside of our home country. As we prepared for this journey, we counseled together frequently to ensure that we were all united in our decision since it would affect each of us differently.
In addition to packing for our physical needs, we discussed how we would “pack” for our spiritual needs by bringing our habits of prayer, scripture study, and church attendance. As we lived in different areas, we benefited greatly from attending church in places very different from what we were used to and communing with the Saints who lived there. On page 22, you can read about one of those places, Dubai, and the unexpected similarities in morals we found with our Muslim neighbors.

I had already been reading the Book of Mormon for about four months, and I was almost half done when my Young Women leaders told us at New Beginnings that we would have to read the whole Book of Mormon this year. I was really frustrated and a little annoyed until I read the “Hidden Fruit” article in the Instant Messages section of the January New Era. Now I’m excited that I have a reason to read the Book of Mormon again.Kira Carey, Rootstown Ward, Akron Ohio Stake

You will recall that your mother used to make an interesting adaptation of this idea. When she sent you on an important errand, the purpose of which she did not want you to forget, she helped you to remember by tying a red string on your finger with a bow on the top so that no matter where you went or what you did, you would always remember what your mother wanted you to do. And that is about what the Lord did to the children of Israel.

At some future family home evening some of your children in their teens will gather round and have a great time reading of the dating and courtship that resulted in the beginning of their family. They will be amused to find that Mom was once a girl and Dad a boy facing the problems of a world not too far removed from their own.

Luis remembers such an event in his life. One day while his family was reading the scriptures, he felt a calm, reassuring feeling that what he was reading was true.
“I’m only 14, but I know that I’ve received revelation because I have felt the Holy Ghost telling me the Church is true and Joseph Smith is a prophet,” he says. “Maybe I haven’t received a lot yet—I’m still like a very small stalactite—but if I do what I should so I can receive revelation, my knowledge and testimony will continue to grow.”

Massimo De Feo’s dying mother shows she loves him more than herself.

A little yellow crocus
Came right up through the snow.
I think it very softly told
Old winter it must go.
For a warmer wind is blowing;
The snow is melting fast.
A rosy robin redbreast sings
That spring is here at last!

It was Thanksgiving Day morning, and Elizabeth was looking out the window and wishing that the snow would stop. No longer could she see the mountains that rose behind her uncle’s farm. The snow swirled about and drifted against fences.
“Don’t worry,” said her cousin William. “Your parents will probably stay at the trading post until the storm stops. I don’t think anyone will try to get through Craggy Pass in this weather.”
“But if they left on time, they’ll be ahead of the storm,” countered Elizabeth, hopefully. “Father said that they would be back for Thanksgiving.”
Elizabeth turned to the window and flattened her nose against the glass, staring out at the dancing snowflakes.
William felt sorry for his cousin. Elizabeth and her parents had recently moved from Massachusetts, near Plymouth, and the girl was still homesick. She also missed her parents, who had been away for several days buying supplies and looking at land to purchase.
Elizabeth had told William about her old home and the small rolling hills and stone walls that defined the pastures. Her favorite spot had been on a high knoll where the pastureland overlooked the bay at Plymouth. She also spoke about the Pilgrims who had settled there. She made it sound so exciting that William almost felt as if he had been there himself. William had studied about Governor William Bradford, but it was more interesting to listen to Elizabeth tell about the feast at Plymouth in late July of 1621 when the Pilgrims had invited Chief Massasoit. He had come with a number of his Indian braves and had joined in the feasting and games of skill.
Elizabeth had described how pretty it must have been then—the clear blue waters of the bay and, on shore, splashes of colorful wildflowers—and how in this new land the Indians and Pilgrims had formed a fellowship.
“Tell me, Elizabeth, do you have snow back in Massachusetts at Thanksgiving time?” asked William, hoping to get her mind off her parents.
Elizabeth turned from the window. “Sometimes we do,” she said. “It looks strange when it falls on the beach.”
“I’ve never seen the ocean,” said William. “I hope that someday I will.”
“It’s lovely, like your mountains, but different,” said Elizabeth.
“Come on, Elizabeth, we better help my mother get the big dinner ready. It’s a tradition in our family to set a large table for our many friends who come. And each year Mother puts out her best hand-dipped candles.”
“I’ll be happy to help you,” said Elizabeth. “The snowflakes are making me dizzy.” But she couldn’t help remembering her own family tradition that had always been an important part of their Thanksgiving meal. And for the first time she would miss this annual custom.
Elizabeth and William set the table, and the candles looked lovely. “I like the special candles you use for Thanksgiving, Aunt Emily,” said Elizabeth.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” answered Aunt Emily. She looked at the sadness in the girl’s face. “Perhaps there is a family tradition you have that you can share with us?”
“Oh, there is,” said Elizabeth, “but Mother and Father are not here.”
“All the more reason for you to carry on your custom,” Aunt Emily gently encouraged.
“Oh, I’d like that,” said Elizabeth. “But I’ll need—”
“Hush!” said Aunt Emily with a smile. “Why don’t you surprise us with your family tradition?”
The idea delighted Elizabeth and she disappeared from the room. William and his mother were happy to see Elizabeth forget her troubles. But the storm still worried them. The wide open spaces of their western land could be very hard on travelers, especially newcomers such as Elizabeth’s parents.
Meanwhile Elizabeth was very busy. She took a clean sock and stepped into the pantry for a minute. When she came out she was smiling. “Before we sit down and say the blessing, I want to go to the table,” she explained. “And nobody may peek,” she added. Then she took from the sock a handful of corn and carefully placed five kernels by each plate.
In a short while, friends who lived nearby arrived. They came in, stamping snow off their feet and bringing dishes of hot food. Before he started to carve the turkey, her uncle said, “Well, Elizabeth, I’ve never seen kernels of corn at my place like this before. They must be part of the tradition that you wish to share with us.
“Yes, Uncle John,” said Elizabeth. “My father usually tells the story of the corn, but I’ll do it since he isn’t here.”
“Many years ago,” she began, “during one of the early winters, the Pilgrims had very little food. Because their corn supply was almost gone, each Pilgrim was given only five grains of corn to plant. The following years they had more corn. But the Pilgrims wanted their children to always remember the sacrifices and the hardships that made the survival of their small settlement possible. So each year when they celebrated Thanksgiving, they placed five grains of corn by each plate. My family still does it so we won’t forget those brave days either.”
“That’s a wonderful tradition you’ve shared with us,” Aunt Emily said, hugging Elizabeth. “I think we should all carry it on. It will give us strength for the days to come.”
Just then there was a banging on the door, and in burst Elizabeth’s parents covered with snow. Elizabeth raced into their arms. “I didn’t think you’d come!” she said. “But I prayed and prayed that you would.”
“Not be here for Thanksgiving!” exclaimed her father. “It would take more than a snowstorm to stop us.”
He strode to the table. His hand reached into the pocket of his coat and he started to take something out. But he put it back when he saw the grains of corn at each plate. His eyes met Elizabeth’s and a smile lighted up his face. “Elizabeth, you remembered. You did this, didn’t you!” he said.
“Yes, Father, just like we always did back home,” she replied softly.

Stephanie Cole and Tiana Karren have been close friends since they were two years old. Even going to different schools hasn’t gotten in the way of their friendship. This year, the two Laurels from the Saratoga Ward, in the California Saratoga Stake, decided to turn that friendship into good works with a joint Personal Progress project.
One day last fall, Stephanie was talking about how much her younger cousins like to sing and how they wanted to be in a choir. Stephanie, who loves music and has played piano since kindergarten, suggested she might organize a children’s choir. When her mom casually mentioned the conversation to the ward Primary chorister, the chorister jumped at the opportunity and signed Stephanie on in short order.
The children’s choir seemed like the perfect Value Project—until Stephanie counted the children in the Primary. “I knew right away that this was a bigger task than I could handle on my own,” says Stephanie.
Knowing that her friend Tiana loved music, she enlisted her help. “Sometimes it was really challenging to get the children to even listen and pay attention,” says Tiana.
When the day finally arrived for the program, Stephanie accompanied the children on piano, and Tiana directed. The children sang beautifully!
“Our teamwork really paid off,” says Stephanie. “So many people came up after and told us how much they enjoyed the program.”
After 12 hours of work, the Primary program was done. The girls continued to hold practices with the children’s choir to finish the project’s needed hours—and for fun! But they didn’t stop there.

Last year, I had two amazing friends, James and Bartholomew.1 When I met a few of their friends, I started hanging out with them every day, and Bartholomew added me to a group chat they were all part of.
At first it was great! I could talk to my newfound friends all the time. But over time, my mum began to notice changes in my personality and emotions. I would be on my phone until late, I procrastinated doing my homework, and I stopped studying my scriptures and praying because I was preoccupied with texting. My friends and I would argue a lot too, so I was also upset a lot. I spoke to my mum, and she told me what she had been noticing and that I needed to spend less time with those friends. I began to spend less time texting them and got back on top of all my schoolwork and gospel study.
Now going into my next school year, I am still friends with James and Bartholomew and a few of our other friends. But I am much happier now, and I spend less time on my phone. I know that making the right friends is very important, as it says in For the Strength of Youth: “Everyone needs good and true friends. They will be a great strength and blessing to you” ([2011], 16). The next time a situation like this comes up, I’m going to be careful. I don’t ever again want to feel the way I did then.
Joshua C., United Kingdom