Gospel Story Finder

A few years later, and in a different city, two missionaries were visiting in the next apartment. I was glad they hadn’t stopped to see me. I was just congratulating myself on my good fortune when there was a knock on the door. There they stood, and before they had a chance to say much of anything, I told them I wasn’t interested and shut the door.

Many teens in the South run to Florida beaches for spring break, but cousins Marty Craig, an elder in the Newnan Ward, Jonesboro Georgia Stake, and John ‘Mac’ Williams, a recent convert and priest in the Woodstock Ward, East Marietta Georgia Stake, headed to Honduras.
And it wasn’t for fun and games. They worked hard to help finish a dam for an 11-acre reservoir to power a generator for a boys’ school. Not only that, but they helped collect shirts, hats, candy, and machinery in Georgia to take down to the school. Oh, and of course they milked cows, helped build a new building, and shoveled and bagged rice. The school, “El Sembrador,” is almost self-sufficient now.
They also brought four copies of the Book of Mormon with them and personally presented them to some of the young men at the school. Marty is now continuing his missionary work full-time in the Dominican Republic. Mac will follow him into the mission field as soon as he graduates.

I remember when President Nelson invited the sisters and youth of the Church to do social media fasts. Since accepting that first invitation, I’ve fasted from social media multiple times when I’ve felt that it’s creating the “impression that everyone except [me] is leading a fun, adventurous, and exciting life.”2
Through taking much-needed breaks from social media, I’ve learned about the importance of real-life relationships and gained a greater appreciation for finding joy through hobbies and spiritual habits.
I’ve also been able to see others from a more Christlike view instead of judging them by the life highlights they post. As President Nelson added, “Social media … creates a false reality,”3 and if we take a break from it, we can better remember the things that matter most, overcome the world,4 and focus on the Spirit.

Filipe U., age 9, Tailevu Province, Fiji
I had a question during an exam that I didn’t know how to answer. I said a prayer in my head, and Heavenly Father helped me understand the question.

As the Bible declares, the true Church of Jesus Christ is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone” (Ephesians 2:20). I experienced an application of that fundamental principle of the restored gospel many years ago.
A member of the Church brought her neighbor to my office. The neighbor’s husband was a Protestant minister with a large congregation. For many years, this couple had served the Lord with great diligence in their Christian ministry. He had baptized many people into that church.
Now, through the influence of his Latter-day Saint neighbors, he had read the Book of Mormon and was converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was ready to resign his ministry and join the restored Church. But first, he and his wife needed an answer to their question regarding priesthood authority. Reminding me that her husband had baptized many people, his wife asked, “Are you telling me that my husband didn’t have any authority to baptize all the people that he baptized?”
The Spirit prompted my answer, as it will in these situations.
“No,” I said. “I’m sure your husband had authority to baptize all the people that he baptized. He had all the authority that his church could give him. He could perform marriages. He could make people members of the congregation. He could hire a contractor to put a new roof on your church. But that isn’t the kind of authority we’re discussing. The authority in your question is the authority that Jesus gave to Peter, that whatsoever he did on earth would be honored in heaven (see Matthew 16:19). And because that divine authority must be traceable to Apostles, it exists only in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

But, the critics ask, how do we explain the similarity of certain passages in both the Book of Mormon and the Bible? It is very simple. When I lived in England a few years ago I went to the British Museum in London and studied the history of the King James Version of the Bible. I learned that its translators fasted and prayed for inspiration in their work. I am convinced that they received it.

Isabelle squinted up at the deep blue sky. There were no clouds in sight. She licked her dry lips.
Her parents were talking quietly with President Santiago, the stake president. The motor of the boat was so loud that she couldn’t hear them. But she knew what they were talking about. There was no more drinking water.
Isabelle tried to focus on the reason for their journey. They were going to the temple to be sealed as a family! She remembered hearing her parents talk about the beautiful temple in São Paulo ever since she was a little girl. Going there almost seemed like a fairy tale. After all, Isabelle’s family lived in Manaus, deep in the Amazon rainforest, and the temple was more than 2,000 miles (3,219 km) away.
Then President Santiago had planned a six-day trip to get there. More than 100 members had decided to go. “It will be a sacrifice,” Mamãe had told her. “But sacrifice brings blessings.”
At first, the trip was exciting. They slept in hammocks on the deck of the boat, sang hymns, and read scriptures.
But then the drinking water had run out, and the river water was too dirty to drink.
Isabelle felt Mamãe touch her arm. “President Santiago is gathering us all together,” she said. “We’re going to pray for rain.”
Isabelle joined the group, and the prayer began. After the prayer ended, she felt cool air tickle her neck. She raced to the side of the boat and gasped. Gray storm clouds were moving toward them. Soon rain began to pour down! She opened her mouth to catch the raindrops on her tongue.
“Quick!” cried Mamãe. “Grab buckets, pans—anything!”
Isabelle grabbed a pan and held it out. She wanted to catch all the water she could. Everyone worked together, laughing and celebrating. Soon they were having a giant soaking party! The storm lasted for 15 minutes. It was long enough for them to get all the water they needed. It was a miracle.
Soon the boat reached land. But they still had 1,500 miles (2,414 km) to go. Everyone got on a bus for the rest of the trip. For days, the bus jolted over the rough roads. One time it bounced so hard that the windshield broke! Sometimes they rode through hot, crowded cities. But at least the roads there weren’t so bumpy!
Everyone was always grateful when they stopped at a village or town to eat. They ate at chapels or with Church members along the way. The first night, they arrived so late that Isabelle was afraid that no one would be waiting. “Don’t worry,” Mamãe said with a tired smile. “Look!”
The branch president and Church members were lined up across the road. They held a banner that read “Sacrifice brings blessings.” Isabelle smiled. Mamãe was right!
After three bumpy days, they finally reached São Paulo. Isabelle stood on her seat to get a better view as the bus drove around a curve. Suddenly everyone on the bus burst into cheers. “O templo! O templo!” They could see the tall, thin temple spire rising above rows of palm trees.
Everyone was exhausted, but no one wanted to rest. They wanted to be sealed right away. When it was time for her family to be sealed, Isabelle carefully dressed in white. As she walked into the sealing room, she saw her father beaming. Tears of joy streamed down Mamãe’s face. Their journey had been long and even dangerous. “But the sacrifice was worth it,” Isabelle thought. She smiled as she took her place to be sealed to her family forever.

When I first began coming to church, I felt really uncomfortable. It took a person who loved me to keep me going. The best advice is to love her, make her feel comfortable, and be a friend.
Crystal Huml, 18Rexburg, Idaho

“Raúl,” Mother called, “will you stir the frijoles (beans), please?”
“Yes, Mamá.” Raúl stirred the beans, then joined his mother in the cool front room, where she ironed. Silently he watched as she used the iron to lovingly smooth the wrinkles from the white temple clothes.
“There,” she said happily as she finished the last piece. “I’m through.” Carefully she folded the clean clothes and placed them in an old suitcase before going to the kitchen to make tortillas.
Smells of chili verde (green chili peppers) cooking drifted through the little house. Raúl followed the aroma. “Mamá, could I have just a little of that? It smells so good!”
Mamá laughed and dished up a small bowl of the chili verde, added some beans, and placed a still-warm tortilla on top. “Here. I’m sure there’s enough for you to have some.”
Using the tortilla as a scoop, he dipped the spicy food out of the bowl and into his mouth. It tasted so good! When it was gone, he washed his bowl and put it away. “Mamá, may I go with you today?”
“I’m going there to work. What would you do?”
“I could help.”
“Do you know what I do there?”
Raúl knew that his mother had been called to help Saints coming from Mexico to attend the Arizona Temple. It cost so much to travel that sometimes people sold everything they had in order to get there. When they arrived, they were hungry, they needed a place to stay, and sometimes they even needed clothes to wear. Since his mother spoke Spanish, she helped them feel comfortable in their new surroundings. Sometimes she also went to the temple with them. “You’re going to help those who want to go to the temple,” he answered now. “I want to help them too.”
Mama wrapped the still-warm tortillas in a towel and placed them in a cardboard box. “I will be gone a very long time. Are you sure you want to come?”
He nodded.
“If you promise to help, I will take you with me.”
“I promise.”
His mother put on her Sunday blouse and skirt. Then she packed a bag with another skirt and blouse to wear when she served the supper. Raúl put on his shoes and socks. Soon they were both ready to go.
At the stake center, people scurried everywhere like ants. They wanted to be ready when the Saints from Mexico arrived. Raúl was drawn into the activity. He set tables and poured glasses of water. He cut cake into squares and put the pieces on plates. When the bus pulled into the parking lot, food was steaming in the kitchen, and the tables in the dining hall were ready for the visitors.
Raúl watched as the people climbed down from the bus. They were tired and hot after having traveled for three days and nights. As Mamá walked forward and greeted them in her soft Spanish, the tired faces broke into smiles. Soon she was surrounded by happy, chattering people.
Following her directions, the Saints from Mexico entered the building. Watching for someone his age, Raúl spied a boy carrying a small baby and waved at him.
The boy walked towards Raúl. “Me llamo Nefi. Cómo estás? (My name’s Nephi. How are you?)”
“Is your name really Nefi?” Raúl asked. “Wow! My name’s Raúl Samuel Rodriguez. I’m named after Samuel the Lamanite.”
The boys chattered happily as they walked into the building. Suddenly the baby began to cry.
“This is Lupita, my little sister. I think she’s frightened and maybe a little thirsty.”
Raúl ran to get water for the baby. When he returned, Nefi’s mother was comforting Lupita. Gratefully she took the glass and let her drink. “Gracias (Thank you),” she said. Then she turned to Nefi, “I’ll take care of her now if you want to eat. Don’t go far, because after lunch we are going to the temple.”
Raúl talked to his new friend while he ate. “I brought a puzzle my abuelo (grandpa) gave me. We can put it together if you want.”
“That would be great. First, though, I need to get cleaned up. I must be clean to go into the temple.”
Raúl showed Nefi where the showers were, then waited for him in the hall. When Nefi came out, his hair was wet and slicked back. He was wearing the same clothes as before, but he had brushed them clean.
“I’m ready now,” he said happily. “Let’s put the puzzle together.”
“Where are your shoes?” Raúl asked. Then, realizing that Nefi didn’t have any shoes, his face got very red.
“Won’t they let me in without them?” Nefi asked fearfully. “I told Mama they wouldn’t.”
Raúl felt awful. What should he do? “Of course they’ll let you in. No one will mind.” He looked down at his own feet. His shoes were not new, but they had just been polished. “You could go without them—but would you like to wear mine?”
Nefi began to smile. “You’d let me wear your shoes? I’d like that.” Quickly he sat down and pulled on Raúl’s shoes. As he walked around, his feet slid around in them. “They’re a bit too big!” he said, disappointed.
“I know just what to do,” Raúl said. He hurried to the washroom, grabbed some paper toweling, and hurried back to his friend. “Put this in the toes.”
“Nefi,” his mother called. “Apúrate (Hurry)! It’s time to go.”
Quickly the boys stuffed the toweling into the shoes. Nefi put them on and tested the fit. “It worked!” He hurried after his mother.
“You look good, Nefi,” Raúl called.
“Thanks, Raúl. We’ll put the puzzle together when I get back, OK?”
It was late that evening when Raúl wearily helped his mother carry the empty pots out to their car. “I’m glad I came,” he said.
“I’m glad that you came, too,” she answered. “You were a big help.” She glanced down at his feet. “Are you sorry now that you gave Nefi your shoes?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Oh no, Mamá. I’m glad you let me do it. He was happy to wear them to the temple. It helped make this day even more special for him. He’ll grow into them soon, too, and I still have a pair at home.”
Raúl noticed that his mother was in her old skirt and blouse, even though she’d just got back from the temple. “Where are your Sunday clothes?” he asked.
“Oh,” she said quietly, “someone else needed them more than I do.”
Raúl remembered a young mother whose dress had hung in tatters. She was just about his mother’s size. It made him happy that Mamá had helped her.
“I remember when we went to be sealed,” he said softly. “I loved being in the temple. It was so peaceful. I’m glad we were able to help others feel comfortable there. Going to the temple is important.”
“Yes, mi hijo (my son), it is.”

“Over here!” Miss Karen, the cheerleading camp director, waved Cricket over. “Girls eight and under are in this group.”
“Not again,” Cricket whispered to her best friend, Lauren. She turned to Miss Karen and said, “Actually, I’m 10. I’m just small.”
“Oh,” Miss Karen said. “Well, we need you to cheer with the younger girls for the performance. You’re so much shorter and you wouldn’t blend in with the older girls. Besides, their uniforms would be too big on you.”
“But—” Cricket started to say.
“Of course you can do all the other camp activities with your friends.” Miss Karen patted Cricket’s shoulder. “I know you won’t mind.”
Cricket didn’t say anything. But back in their room, Cricket told Lauren, “But I do mind. I’m always the smallest one at camp.”
“It will be OK,” Lauren said. “We’ll have fun doing everything else together.”
And they did have fun. They learned to do flips and back walkovers on the bar in their gymnastics class. Miss Karen even complimented Cricket on her landings.
They watched every day as the high school cheerleaders practiced their pyramids. Cricket was already good at pyramids, and she couldn’t wait until she was old enough to join a cheer team too.
But none of it quite made up for having to cheer with the little kids. Cricket felt out of place practicing with them. They were so much younger! She wished she were taller so she could cheer with her friends.
“Why don’t you pretend to be sick on Saturday?” Lauren said. “Then you won’t have to be in the show.”
Cricket thought for a moment. “No, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be honest. And besides, Miss Karen and the kids are counting on me. I’ll just tough it out.”
The next day, Cricket had just performed with her group and left the stage when Miss Karen came running up to her.
“We need you,” Miss Karen whispered. “The girl for the top of the high school team’s pyramid is sick. You’re small enough for the girls to lift easily, and your landing is perfect. Are you willing to try it?”
Cricket nodded slowly. They needed her help because she was small. “I’ll do my best,” she said.
When the high school girls finished their routine and started their pyramids, Miss Karen gave Cricket the signal to join them. Cricket said a silent prayer asking Heavenly Father to help her do her best.
She walked on stage. The girls lifted her up and she grinned, holding her hands high in the air. Cricket flipped down into the girls’ arms and landed perfectly. The crowd cheered.
The rest of the cheerleaders came down from the pyramid smoothly. Cricket couldn’t stop smiling as she listened to the crowd cheering.
At the end of the show, all the cheerleaders came onto the stage for one last bow. Miss Karen walked to the microphone.
If you don’t think faith and attitude are more important than size … just ask Goliath about David!
“Every year we give an award to the most inspirational camper,” she said. “This year we’ve chosen a girl who cared more about the group than about herself. The most inspirational camper award goes to a little girl with a big heart. Cricket Newton, please come forward!”
Cricket hugged the trophy tight. She smiled as she stood on her tiptoes to say “thank you” into the microphone.

The first principle that I will share is to enthusiastically and righteously continue your quest for knowledge. One of my heroes in this category is Paul Cox, an active member of the Church. He received a bachelor of science degree from Brigham Young University in botany and earned other post-graduate degrees. He served a mission in Samoa and later lived with his family in Savai‘i, Samoa, for many years. One of his focuses was ethnomedicine, in which he studied some of the plants that had been used by generations of Samoan mothers to treat health issues. With a coauthor, he wrote Plants, People, and Culture: The Science of Ethnobotany.3

He has made several breakthroughs in treating diseases. While he has done many things in his exceptional career, the one I wish to mention occurred many years ago. Paul and a Samoan chief, Fuiono Senio, conducted ethnobotanical research in the village of Falealupo, Western Samoa.

An account in BYU Magazine reported: “The village had reluctantly licensed its forest to a logging company to raise funds to build a school, because, says Cox, ‘They felt they had to choose between their children and their forest, which was a terrible, terrible decision for them.’ When he learned of the transaction with the logging company, Cox told the chiefs he would personally pay to build the school if they could stop the logging” of the rain forest.4

He did build the school with the help of businessmen who had connections with Samoa.5 Brother Cox has received many honors and awards, including the Goldman Environmental Prize for grassroots environmental heroes. He represents a continuing quest for knowledge to bless mankind. This account exemplifies the love of learning and the synergism of knowledge.

At the dairy, Spencer became friends with a returned missionary. While on long walks in the Arizona hills, they discussed missionary work and gospel subjects.
Friend: We have so much to be grateful for. Let’s get down on our knees and thank the Lord.
Spencer: Here?
Friend: You can pray anywhere.

We have mourned in recent days the passing of our beloved friend and leader, Howard William Hunter, the fourteenth President of the Church and prophet to the people. His tenure in office was brief, but the impression for good that he left was tremendous. Mild of manner, quiet in his ways, he was nonetheless the man whose strong convictions of the truth of this work made him powerfully persuasive in his advocacy of the Christlike life.
He suffered much in his body before he was finally taken from us on the morning of March 3, 1995. More than twenty-five thousand men, women, and children passed by his bier as his body lay in state in the beautiful rotunda of the Church Administration Building. With measured step they came one by one, reverently and with love for the man they had sustained only a few months before.
On Wednesday, March 8, 1995, his funeral services were held in this historic tabernacle and broadcast far and wide. Those services were a fitting memorial to a man of goodness and greatness who now belongs to the ages. Our hearts reach out with love and sympathy to his bereaved widow and to his sons and their families, now spanning three generations. May they be comforted, sustained, and blessed by Him who declared, “I, even I, am he that comforteth you” (Isa. 51:12).

Their prophet did not make that journey with the fleeing exiles. During the bitter winter of 1838–39 he was imprisoned in the cold, miserable basement cell of a Missouri jail, the victim of a false arrest.
Bereft, destitute, lonely, he cried out in those circumstances, “O God, where art thou?” (D&C 121:1).
In the revealed response to that prayer came these remarkable words of prophecy:
“The ends of the earth shall inquire after thy name, and fools shall have thee in derision, and hell shall rage against thee;
“While the pure in heart, and the wise, and the noble, and the virtuous, shall seek counsel, and authority, and blessings constantly from under thy hand” (D&C 122:1–2).
My brethren and sisters, all of us who are a part of this great kingdom established among the nations of the earth are the fulfillment of that prophecy, as is the institution of the Church itself.

When I served with my husband as he presided over a mission, we went to the airport to pick up a large group of missionaries one morning. One particular young man caught our eye. He seemed sad, weighed down, almost distraught. We watched him carefully that afternoon. By evening, this young man made a belated confession, and his leaders determined that he needed to return home. Although we were very sad that he had been dishonest and had not repented before coming on his mission, on the way to the airport we sincerely and lovingly praised him for having the courage to come forward, and we pledged to stay in close contact with him.

This great young man was blessed to have wonderful parents, great priesthood leaders, and a supportive, loving ward. After a year of working hard to fully repent and partake of the Savior’s Atonement, he was able to return to our mission. It is difficult for me to describe the feelings of joy we felt as we picked up this young man from the airport. He was full of the Spirit, happy, confident before the Lord, and anxious to fulfill a faithful mission. He became an outstanding missionary, and later my husband and I had the privilege of attending his temple sealing.

I sent a copy of the December 2006 Liahona to a friend, and after reading it, he felt great. He said, “I thank you for such a great offer. My life has changed, and I am ready to join this wonderful Church.” And I was happy for helping bring a soul unto Christ.Kwame Asante, Ghana

When I was young, my parents planted within me the pure love from my Father in Heaven. I began to know Him as my mom sang “I Am a Child of God” (Hymns, no. 301) to me, and over time my parents’ examples have been my greatest inspiration to come to know and love my Father in Heaven through service and by faithfully attending Church meetings and activities.

After reviewing the report from a recent physical examination, I learned that I needed to make some lifestyle adjustments. To help me, my doctor prescribed a nutrition and exercise plan, which, if I chose to follow it, would transform me into a healthier person.

Growing up, I loved sports. When I was a teenager, I played basketball and baseball and ran track. But I always knew that I would never play or practice on Sunday. When you know that you are on the Lord’s side, decisions like this are clear. So when my team was scheduled to practice or play on Sunday, I never begged my parents to let me play. I simply told the coach that I wouldn’t be able to participate. My decision was easy to make because I knew I wanted to be on the Lord’s side.

Let’s just cite one more example where the Lord watched over and protected his Saints in the Church. This is found in the History of the Church: There were threats of a mob on June 19, 1834. As the Mormons were making camp, five men rode up and told them that they would “see hell before morning.” They stated that an armed force from Richmond, Ray, and Clay counties was to join a Jackson County force at the Fishing River ford, bent on the utter destruction of the camp.
While these five men were in the camp, cursing and swearing vengeance, signs of an approaching storm were seen. No sooner had these men left the camp than the storm burst forth in all its fury. Hailstones struck, so large that they cut limbs from the trees, and the limbs fell all around the camp while the trees were twisted from their roots by the force of the wind. The earth trembled and quaked, and the streams became raging torrents, and the mobbers dispersed, seeking shelter that could not be found. One mobber was killed by lightning and another had his hand torn off by a fractious horse, and in fear they dispersed, saying that if that was the way God fought for the “Mormons” they would go about their business.
On the morning of June 21 (just two days later) Colonel Sconce, with two companions, visited the camp to learn what the intentions of the members were. He said: “I see there is an almighty power that protects this people, for I started from Richmond, Ray County, with a company of armed men, having a fixed determination to destroy you, but was kept back by the storm.”
The Prophet then related to these men the sufferings of the Saints, and they left the camp offering to use their influence. (See History of the Church, 2:103–6.)
During all this storm the members of the camp were protected from its fury. Why were they protected? Because of their collective obedience to the Lord.