Gospel Story Finder

Dressed in old clothes—pants and shirt that bright yellow paint can’t ruin—James Bridges is sitting with nine of his closest friends saying the following sentence: “Service is fun.”

He says it with absolute sincerity, and the other nine nod in agreement. They are gathered at their church in Anchorage, Alaska, getting ready to restripe the parking lot. Perhaps very few will actually notice their work, but, still, it’s a job that needs to be done. And they were happy to volunteer.

Back to the parking lot. “It’s a serious activity,” says Brother Smith. “I don’t want to see anyone’s initials out there. I want you to be proud that when you drive in on Sunday, the stripes are straight.”

The yellow stripes will be straight. Members of this priests quorum know all about following guidelines and doing a good job. They know where service leads—to feelings of worth. And they know the ones that have set the example for them are now in the mission field. The lines are straight, and they’ll follow.

Some of the full-time missionaries in the Ilopango Zone—(from left to right) Elder Monterroso, Elder Payne, Elder Albino, Sister Rivera, and Elder Cammack—do a puppet show to teach children to eat healthy foods and to avoid tobacco, alcohol, drugs, and other addictive substances.

The missionaries gave the puppet show at a local hospital and in a parking lot of a large supermarket. Those who saw the show, including members of the hospital staff, enjoyed it and appreciated the missionaries’ efforts.

I have gratitude for my ancestors who joined the Church back in the early days of the Church, who moved from upstate New York to join with the Saints in Nauvoo and became involved with the Nauvoo Temple and then with the exodus into the West. For all of these blessings, I’m grateful on this day, as I pronounce them to you.

“I Am a Child of God” is sung throughout the Church. However, Sonia Griffa (8) of Torino, Italy, knows it as “Sono un Figlio di Dio.” The Chiesa (Church) is relatively new in Sonia’s paese (country). President Lorenzo Snow dedicated the land for missionary work in 1850, but wars and other problems stopped the missionary effort until it was rededicated in 1966 by Elder Ezra Taft Benson, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. Since then the membership has increased greatly.

It wasn’t until after my first business venture broke down and my second one burned to the ground that I wondered if I would be able to take my fiancée, Beny, to the temple. We had heard that getting there would be a trial of faith, but when we made temple marriage our goal, we had no idea how thoroughly our faith would be tested.
Beny and I met in our native Panama after serving missions. At the time, couples in Panama who wanted to start their married lives in the temple were married civilly just before traveling to the nearest temple, the Guatemala City Guatemala Temple. It would be an expensive and difficult trip, but being sealed was a blessing we did not want to live without.
The day after I proposed, I lost my job. Undaunted, I decided to earn money by giving bus tours. My bus broke down the first night. Concerned but determined, I next decided to sell T-shirts. The morning I went to pick up the shirts from the manufacturer, I found that the building had burned to the ground the night before. It seemed that my hopes had gone up in smoke too.
It was only a few months before the next scheduled temple trip, yet to this point, every effort I had made to raise money had ended in abrupt failure. I left the smoldering rubble and went to find Beny.
“I have nothing,” I told her. “Maybe you shouldn’t marry me.”
“If I were marrying for money, I’d be married already,” she said. “But I’m not marrying for money. I’m marrying you because I love you.”
That was a turning point. We felt that we had passed an important test. As we pushed ahead with faith, doors began opening. I found work making furniture, though the pay wasn’t enough to meet our needs. Then a kind bishop offered to help us with our bus fare. As exciting as his offer was, it didn’t feel right. We were intent on being self-sufficient. But seeing that he truly desired to help, we asked him if he could give Beny a job instead. He did.
After earning enough money to travel to the temple, we married civilly and were at last on our way to Guatemala with 10 other Church members. But our test wasn’t over yet.
Widespread transportation strikes stopped us at the border of Costa Rica. After waiting at the border for two days, our driver decided to turn back. But Beny and I, along with two brothers and one other couple, decided not to give up. After watching our bus turn around and leave us, we walked into Costa Rica. We kept walking, sleeping in roadside shelters, until we reached the Nicaraguan border. From there we managed to take a taxi to the capital city, where we purchased a bus ticket to the Honduran border. Two days—and two more buses—later we finally arrived at the temple. We were happy, but we were dirty and tired, and we had spent far more than we had planned.
After cleaning up, Beny and I realized that we were missing our living-ordinance recommends! What made matters worse, our bishop in Panama was scheduled to leave that same day on a business trip. We were brokenhearted. Had we passed through all of our trials for nothing? We ironed Beny’s wedding dress and trusted that if the Lord had helped us get that far, He would see us through to the end.
Though we expected our bishop to be gone, we decided to call him anyway. To our surprise, he had not taken his business trip after all. He said he felt that he should stay home instead. We were thrilled! He promised to fax the needed paperwork as soon as he could get to a fax machine.
We waited and waited, all the while praying in the temple’s marriage waiting room. It was Saturday, and in two hours the temple would close until Monday. What could be taking so long? At last the fax arrived, with an apology from the bishop: the power had gone out just as he was preparing to send the fax.
Finally, after all our trials and delays, we were sealed eternally as husband and wife. Our joy—worth the working, the waiting, and the worrying—was full!
Not everyone getting married in the temple will face such challenges, but for Beny and me (and the others who went to the temple with us), these experiences were a refining process. Three of the four brethren who made it to the temple on that trip were later called as bishops. Two are currently serving as counselors in stake presidencies. We’ve all been so blessed. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life.
If our goal to marry in the temple had been only for worldly love, we wouldn’t have made it. But because we believed in the sealing power of the priesthood restored in our day, we didn’t give up, knowing that our temple marriage—for time and all eternity—was worth whatever sacrifice we had to make.

Aaron sat squeezed into the corner of the big chair. Tears ran down his cheeks, and a bruise was coming out on his arm.
“What’s wrong, Aaron?” asked Mom, looking worried.
Aaron just turned away.
“Ricky again?” she asked, and Aaron nodded. Mom took him onto her lap and wiped away his tears. “What happened?” she asked, kissing him.
“Ricky took my truck. When I asked him to give it back, he hit me with it.” Aaron began to cry again.
Mom sighed. “That isn’t much fun,” she said. “I wonder what you can do?”
“Nothing!” said Aaron, frowning. “Ricky’s just mean. He hates me!”
“He sounds like an enemy,” said Mom.
“He is!”
Mom looked serious. “Aaron, I want you to get rid of your enemy.” she said.
Aaron’s eyes widened. “Mom, I don’t know how to get rid of Ricky!”
Mom laughed. “Don’t worry, Aaron. There’s a secret formula for getting rid of enemies, and it’s harmless.”
“What is it?” asked Aaron.
“Do something nice for them,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
Aaron looked puzzled. “How does that get rid of an enemy?”
“Try it and see,” said Mom.
Aaron sat and thought for a while. Then he went into his room, put a racing car into his pocket, and went outside.
Ricky was racing Aaron’s truck down the sidewalk. “Want your truck, crybaby?” he taunted. “Come and get it!”
Aaron walked up to him and said, “Here. This is for you.”
Ricky looked surprised, then suspicious. “You’re giving me your racing car?”
“Yes,” said Aaron.
“Why?” asked Ricky.
Aaron didn’t know what to say. He just stood there holding out his car.
“OK, crazy!” said Ricky, grabbing the car. He shoved Aaron hard, laughing loudly as Aaron fell. “Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!” he chanted, skipping away with Aaron’s car.
Mom found Aaron in the chair, crying again.
“It’s not working!” he sobbed. “I gave him my best racing car. He just called me names and pushed me down.”
“Hard problems take time to solve,” said Mom. “Don’t give up yet.”
“I don’t want to give Ricky all my things!” said Aaron desperately.
“Maybe what will get rid of your enemy is not an object that you give him,” Mom said, hugging Aaron. “Keep trying.”
That afternoon Ricky was digging in a vacant lot. Aaron approached, whistling cheerfully. “Hi!” he said with a big smile. “What’re you making?”
“What do you care, crazy?” asked Ricky.
“It looks like fun,” Aaron answered. He smiled again. “See you later.” He walked on, whistling again.
Ricky stared after him, puzzled.
“I just talked to Ricky this time, Mom. I didn’t give him anything,” Aaron said when he got home.
“What happened?”
“Not much, but he didn’t hurt me.”
“You’re catching on,” said Mom. “Keep it up!”
The next day Aaron invited Ricky to climb his big tree.
Ricky cocked his head and looked at Aaron, hands on his hips. Finally he nodded and followed Aaron into the backyard. He was a good tree climber. He showed Aaron how to drop from a high branch without getting hurt.
“I’m making cookies with my mom tomorrow,” said Aaron as Ricky was leaving. “Want to help?”
Ricky looked hesitant. “She wouldn’t mind?”
“Oh, no!” Aaron replied, shaking his head. “She’d be glad if you came.”
Ricky looked relieved. “Great!” he said. “I like cookies. See you tomorrow.”
Aaron ran inside, calling, “Mom! Can Ricky make cookies with us tomorrow?”
“Of course, Aaron,” she agreed. “What a good idea!”
Ricky and Aaron did a lot together after that. One day, as they worked on a fort in the vacant lot, Ricky said, “Let’s go to my house. I have something to show you.”
Aaron was glad. It was his first invitation from Ricky. When they walked into Ricky’s backyard, Aaron’s eyes widened in surprise. “Rabbits!” he exclaimed.
“My dad and I raise them,” Ricky said.
“Can I hold one?” asked Aaron eagerly.
“Sure,” Ricky said, handing him one. Aaron cuddled the silky body against his chest. The rabbit’s nose twitched busily as it sniffed him.
“This one is my special pet,” said Ricky, lifting a reddish brown rabbit from its cage. “He comes when I call him, and he follows me just like a dog.”
“Wow!” said Aaron. “I wish I had a pet like that!”
They played with the rabbits all afternoon. Once Aaron caught a glimpse of some tiny pink babies in a nesting box.
“We can’t touch them, or the mother might kill them,” explained Ricky. “But you can feed the mother these carrot tops.”
“She really loves them!” cried Aaron, as the rabbit greedily nibbled the greens right up to his fingertips.
The boys spent every afternoon that week cleaning cages and watering and feeding the rabbits.
“You’re coming to my birthday party tomorrow, aren’t you?” Aaron asked.
“I wouldn’t miss it!” exclaimed Ricky.
When Ricky arrived, he hadn’t brought a present, and he left when Aaron started to open the ones his mom and dad had given him. But when Aaron ran to answer the doorbell a few minutes later, there stood Ricky, grinning broadly. In his hands was a beautiful little reddish brown rabbit. “Happy birthday, Aaron!” he said.
Aaron whooped with joy. “Thanks, Ricky!”
“I’m glad that you like him,” Ricky said with a big grin. Then he was serious. “Aaron, I’m sorry for all the times that I was mean to you.”
“That’s OK. I’m glad that we’re friends now.”
As Aaron got into bed that night, he said, “You told me a great secret formula, Mom.”
Mom smiled as she hugged him. “It’s a very old secret formula. Do you want to know where it came from?”
“I sure do—it’s really a good one!”
Mom opened the Bible and said, “It was Jesus who gave us the formula in the Sermon on the Mount. Here is how He put it: ‘Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.
“‘But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.’” [Matt. 5:43–44.]
Aaron was amazed. “I did just what Jesus said, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. What do you think of Jesus’ formula?”
“It really works! I got rid of my enemy by turning him into my friend!”

Teachers by profession, President and Sister Khanakam used family prayer and their training to help their son overcome what appeared to be a learning disability. “His teachers said he was very slow intellectually, and so we first thought of providing him with a tutor at home. But then we prayed about the problem, and we realized that the best teachers for our son were his mother and father. Our decision, based on the answer to our prayers, is turning out well. Ben is happy that his mother and father understand his needs and want to help him. As we help him with his school work, he is improving and learning faster. And it gives us the opportunity to grow closer together.”

When the boys were ordained as priests and Nathan started to bless the sacrament, Brad wanted to do that, too. With special permission from the bishop, his dad, Steve, helped Brad find a way to say the prayers intelligibly by using computer software.

As one in the last large group of missionaries called before demands of the Korean War diverted our young men into military service, I participated in about five days of training in the Salt Lake Mission Home on State Street. One of our trainers was Bryant S. Hinckley, a Church leader of stature and a stimulating teacher. He invited those missionaries assembled to share reasons they believed the Book of Mormon to be true. I was impressed with the variety of reasons shared by the missionaries. On that occasion, I suggested that in addition to the witness of the Holy Ghost, the number of new names identifying people, places, animals, and things in the Book of Mormon had impressed me.
Now, 50 years later, I am still impressed by these new names. When researchers reported that they have discovered stones in the southern Arabian Desert with the name Nahom inscribed on them, I paid attention. These inscriptions appear to be dated about 700 B.C. Ishmael, we read, was buried in a place called Nahom. Nahom is one of those names that impressed me.

For many years we have been conducting a home Relief Society once a week in our small town in Spain. Since the majority who attend are women of other faiths, at first we avoided teaching the doctrinal lessons in the Relief Society manuals. But gradually we began including Spiritual Living lessons.
One morning I prayerfully searched for a topic that would inspire the women. “What should the women hear this week, Father?” I prayed.
Then I came across a lesson on prayer and fasting. I felt inspired that this one should be given, but I also wondered how the idea of fasting would come across to those who were not members of the Church. I decided to follow the inspiration, having learned long ago not to question the promptings of the Spirit.
The class went well, and many mistaken ideas and doubts were cleared up. The women began to understand that fasting, used together with prayer, is a powerful tool anyone can use. As I was leaving, a woman who rarely attended our meetings came up to me and asked, “Can I fast, too?”
“Why of course you can, Manoli,” I replied. “Anyone can fast, Heavenly Father makes no distinctions among his children.”
Manoli was visibly upset as she continued. “You see, my mother has been in a mental hospital for two years. She has become worse lately and doesn’t even recognize me or my sister. We feel so helpless going to see her. It hurts me so much to see her like that.”
I told Manoli I would begin a fast with her. We started with a prayer. As we got up from our knees, I explained that Heavenly Father always answers prayers and fasting, but in his time and in his way.
The next day Manoli’s sister told Manoli that the hospital staff had stopped giving their mother her regular sedatives because her condition had markedly improved. She was free from the agony she had experienced previously and was peacefully lying in bed. She died the following day, but Manoli was comforted by the assurance that her mother was still enjoying peace and freedom from pain.
I learned a great deal from this experience. I know that Heavenly Father had Manoli in mind when he inspired me to give a lesson that prepared two sisters for their mother’s death.

When I feel like I’m losing my faith, I talk to my mom and dad, and we figure things out together. Sometimes we sing an uplifting song afterward so that we can feel the Spirit.
Emmalie C., 15, Colorado, USA

So far, the life of Fetauai Unasa Tautiaga Tuifalefa Tiatia has been a model of accomplishment.
He began his teaching career over 27 years ago, after gaining a diploma from Samoa Teachers Training College, and went on to earn a bachelor’s degree in education. In the early 2000s, Fetauai received postgraduate degrees from the renown Malua Theological College, where he also qualified as an ordained minister in one of Samoa’s most prominent Christian denominations.
Along the way, he met and married the beautiful Lili Laufiso, and they had children—three girls and a boy. When it was time to choose a high school for them, given Fetauai’s own background in education, the couple considered their options carefully.
“We chose to take our girls to Vaiola College,” Fetauai says, referring to a high school in Savaii, Samoa, that is run and owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was an interesting decision for a practicing minister of a different faith, but he was impressed by Vaiola’s high moral standards and church-based values.
Little did Fetauai know at the time, this decision would spark a fire that would change his life.
His daughters soon began investigating their high school’s church. They took seminary classes, and in their family’s evening devotionals, they would share what they learned about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
Fetauai and his wife grew fond of the missionaries who would visit their girls at home. Sisters Niutua and Laulu taught them Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation, and in April 2010, Fetauai’s daughters were baptised. Fetauai recalls that in their tear-filled farewell prayers, these sweet sister missionaries voiced their deepest desires that the rest of his family would also join the Church.
He also remembers an interesting family home evening lesson with a missionary couple from Utah. Elder and Sister Krogh brought over a tin of homemade cookies, which was wrapped up in a long piece of metal wiring. After the lesson, each person took a turn unwinding the metal wire off the tin until, finally, they were able to open it and enjoy the cookies inside. Elder Krogh then testified: it is only when we open (unwind) our hearts to the gospel that we can enjoy the sweetness of its blessings.
Little by little, these faith-building experiences worked a mighty miracle in Fetauai’s own heart, and soon, he could no longer withstand his yearning to join the Church. “[It was] like the feeling you have while in a long journey without water and . . . food in a desert,” he says.
Fetauai immediately called the local bishop to organise his own baptism, and less than a week later, this well-known educator and minister was now a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Fetauai was baptised in 2013, then sealed to his family for time and all eternity the year after. By 2016, he was a bishop, and in 2017 he was called to serve as president for the Savaii Samoa Pu’apu’a Stake.
On reflection, President Tiatia has one explanation for his eventful pathway to the true gospel of Christ. “Through all the challenges we faced and the decisions we made, we . . . review the beginning and finally say: ‘God is always at the helm of every soul.’”

Years ago I presided in a Church disciplinary council. The man whose sins were the subject of the council sat before us and related something of his history. His sins were indeed serious, but he had also been terribly sinned against. As we considered the matter, my soul was troubled, and I asked to be excused to think and pray about it alone before rejoining the council.
I was standing in front of a chair in my office pleading with the Lord to help me understand how such evil could have been perpetrated. I did not see but rather sensed an immense pit with a covering over it. One corner of the covering was lifted slightly for just an instant, and I perceived within the pit the depth and vastness of the evil that exists in this world. It was greater than I could really comprehend. I was overcome. I collapsed into the chair behind me. The experience seemed to take my breath away. I cried silently, “How can we ever hope to overcome such evil? How can we survive something so dark and overwhelming?”
In that moment there came to my mind this phrase: “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Seldom have I felt such peace juxtaposed with the reality of evil. I felt a deeper appreciation for the intensity of the Savior’s suffering and had a better, even frightening, appreciation for the depth of what He had to overcome. I felt peace for the man who was before us for judgment, knowing he had a Redeemer, whose grace was sufficient to cleanse him and also repair the injustices he had suffered. I knew better that good will triumph because of Jesus Christ, whereas without Him we would have no chance. I felt peace, and it was very sweet.

I helped with a project at school to make “bottles of love,” which are plastic bottles filled with single-use plastics. These are items that are used once and thrown away, like plastic bags. Each family made bottles of love and took them to school. The bottles were sent to an organization that made them into plastic bricks. The bricks could be used to build outdoor benches and houses for people in need.
I realized that my family uses a lot of plastic daily, which is a real environmental problem. I wanted to start caring for the environment. But I couldn’t do it alone. So I decided to ask people at church to help too. I spoke with my leaders and the bishop of the ward. He asked me to talk about the project in a meeting. Many people joined the project. After a few months, we collected more than 100 bottles of love!
The project continues today. When I collect a lot of bottles, I go with my family and Primary friends to the drop-off area. We leave the bottles there to be turned into building materials.
I like this project. It makes me feel that I can really help this world that God created for us. It helps me value and respect nature and animals. Taking care of nature is one way I can follow the Savior. I also like that it’s a way to help others.
Sometimes it’s not easy to take the time to make the bottles of love. But I feel that we can change and choose to do small, good acts daily. I also learned that to do something “big” we need the help of others. We can impact others and help them join the change. I believe this is an important part of the gospel of Jesus Christ: to change, help others, and do good in the world.

When Young Women in the Cedar Mill Stake (Portland, Oregon) hear a bell, it reminds them that they’re not alone—that Heavenly Father is always there, eager to help. Mia Maid Erin Bowman explained it like this:
“I like to think of life on earth as a big soccer tournament. We’re all players, and every time we score a goal or achieve something, we feel really good inside and know Heavenly Father and Jesus are rooting for us. Even when we miss a goal and fail to score, they are still cheering for us and telling us to try again. When we win the game and go on to another team, or another aspect of life, we always know that there are those who love us and are there supporting us.”

There are a lot of fun things you could do for Mutual. The youth of the Plymouth First Ward (Plymouth England Stake) used their Mutual night as an opportunity to do missionary work.
Each of the eight young women and seven young men in the ward, which covers about 15 square miles, brought a less-active or nonmember friend to Mutual. At the activity they had a barbecue, played games, and just got to know each other better. The full-time missionaries were invited, too, and they joined in the fun.
“I was so overwhelmed at the success of the activity,” says Ruth Ng, one of the Young Women. “My testimony of missionary work was surely increased.”

I am so glad my father accepted a mission call, leaving mother at home with seven children and with the eighth being born while Father was in the mission field. His letters, which my faithful mother read to us children, brought a spirit of missionary work into that home that never left it. All the sons went on at least one mission, and eventually all the daughters served missions.

When I entered the Quetzaltenango Guatemala Temple, I felt immense peace. During the dedication I felt very happy. The talks penetrated the depths of my heart.
Juan G., age 11, Guatemala

Years ago I began having a persistent nagging feeling that I needed to put together a family cookbook, including recipes from my extended family. I dismissed the idea. I often thought to myself, “I don’t have time to make a silly cookbook! I have six busy children! Making cookbooks is for the bread-making, cinnamon-rolls-from-scratch type of moms. I don’t have time for that!”
The compelling feeling stayed with me for years until one day I finally decided to consider it seriously. But I wondered who in my family would even want to participate. I was the only member of the Church in my family, my parents had passed away, I had no siblings, and most of my extended family lived far away. However, I decided to listen to the prompting anyway.
I contacted my family, explaining that I was compiling a family cookbook and inviting them to send recipes. Over the next year, I received several recipes. Some relatives even sent family stories and photographs. This prompted me to interview my oldest living relatives and gather our family history, which I decided to include in the book also.
In putting the book together, I realized I did not even know many of the family members who had submitted recipes. For this reason I decided to include a family tree. I asked for everyone’s information, wrote out the family tree, and put it in the manuscript.
As I took one last look at the completed book, I turned to the family tree page and became overwhelmed with the Spirit. Tears ran down my cheeks as I became keenly aware of why I was to put this “silly” cookbook together. It had very little to do with recipes. I had gathered names and dates of generations of my ancestors. All these people could now have their temple work done. Additionally, I had preserved wonderful stories for future generations.
Today I am in contact with several of my cousins on a regular basis and enjoy a wonderful relationship with my extended family. When I look at my cookbook, I often think of the scripture, “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). I am still amazed when I stop and think of all the joyous and wonderful things that came out of heeding a prompting and putting together a simple cookbook.

This ward is composed of members of many ages, from a variety of countries, all with varying economic circumstances and Church experience. A number of those with the most Church experience are busy graduate-student couples with demanding schedules and young families.
What I saw was a young mother serving as a visiting teaching mentor to newer converts in the ward. While her husband cared for their baby, she enthusiastically modeled loving watchcare to two African sisters. This watchcare involved teaching these sisters not only how to function in a new country but also how to adapt to their new religion.
Through her example she taught these African sisters how the Lord would have us serve each other. The words of the Apostle Paul tenderly describe what I saw in this visiting teaching mentor’s actions toward these new converts: “We were gentle among you, … being affectionately desirous of you, … willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us.” With each visit, the young mentor brought good cheer, a gentle helping hand, and the visiting teaching message.
In time, together the sisters prepared the visiting teaching message to share in other sisters’ homes. Assessing needs, giving on-the-spot service as they went, they became true Relief Society sisters committed to lifting, comforting, and encouraging one another. I doubt I will ever hear the phrase “hearts knit together in unity and in love” that I won’t think of those three happy, loving women demonstrating through their determined service to others what it means “to grow up unto the Lord.”