Gospel Story Finder

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
I won’t say I’m sorry and that’s that, so leave me alone!Don’t take that attitude with me, young lady. You can just go to your room until you’re ready to apologize to Matt.
You’re mean! You always favor Matt, and you treat me like a baby. I will go to my room because I don’t want to be near you!
a little later. … May I come in, sweetheart?
Mandy, do you remember the time in the Bible when Jesus commanded a terrible storm to be still, and it was?Yes.
You and I have had a terrible storm inside us, Mandy, and so have Mommy and Matt. Shall we ask Heavenly Father in Jesus’ name to help the storm be still?OK. Maybe then I’ll feel like apologizing to Matt.

Helena C., age 9, from Costa Rica, felt immediately like she was a member of the Church after she was baptized by her father. She enjoys family home evening lessons about Jesus Christ. She also likes to go to school and play with her friends.

One important reason for her eagerness to serve is the spiritual motivation she has felt since joining the Church. She cites, for example, the manifestation that came to her in January of 1985, the day before she began her work in the temple. As she lay on her bed immediately after retiring, she saw the skeletons of many dead, and then saw an Indian woman, plainly from an earlier era, praying before a distinctive door. She lay awake for a time puzzling about what her experience might mean. But when she reported to the temple the following day, Sister Tintí was assigned to the baptistry where—she found that door!
“I believe I saw that woman so I would know who the people were who needed me,” says the 57-year-old temple worker.

Aron C., age 10, Colombia
I help my father clean our house, and I receive money every month for helping. Instead of spending all my money, I set aside 10 percent for tithing and give it to the bishop. I feel good after I pay my tithing because I know the money goes to take care of the chapel and to buy books and many other things. I know that Jesus Christ gave us everything, and when we pay tithing, we give back to Him. I feel happy when I pay my tithing.

He was relieved and almost 40 when my brother
was born. On John’s seventh birthday he
bought two BB guns, yet I never wondered
why he didn’t buy himself a doll on my
birthday.

When I moved into a college dormitory in Khon Kaen, Thailand, I noticed a blue book in the corner of the room. I never picked it up, and the book was still there when I moved out of the dorm many months later.
After graduating from college, I returned to my hometown of Kalasin. One day when I was visiting a friend, I saw a blue book on top of his TV—a book that reminded me of the one in my dorm room. “Where did you get that book?” I asked my friend. He said missionaries had given it to him. I said I had seen a similar book but that I didn’t know anything about it. My friend had not read it either.
Picking up the book, I finally read the words on the cover—“The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” Then, opening the book randomly and finding Jacob chapter 5, I began reading about a tame olive tree and a wild olive tree. Although I did not really understand the meaning of the allegory, reading it gave me a happy feeling.
As the days went by, I found that I wanted to read more of the book, so I returned to my friend’s house to borrow it. When I arrived, my friend was talking to two missionaries. They introduced themselves as Elder Reid and Elder Haroldsen and made an appointment to visit me. They came as promised and shared with me their belief in Heavenly Father’s plan. As they spoke, I could feel the love of the Father.
At their invitation, I attended church on Sunday. Although there were only 10 people in attendance, I felt a love for the Kalasin Branch, and I agreed to come again.
I was baptized on 21 March 1999 and soon began working with the missionaries. As I watched the missionaries trying to spread the gospel, I could feel God’s love for His children.

The basket of notes inspired another idea. The young women decided to write letters of appreciation to each other. “Each of us is writing a beautiful letter to each of the others,” explains Monisha Kalai Selvam, 13.

That’s when I remember the family’s love and romance expert, my Grandpa John, who courted my grandma via the postman while he was in Europe during World War II and she was in Casper, Wyoming. Grandpa and Grandma passed away when I was little, but Mom still tells the stories about how they fell and stayed in love. Mom has all of Grandpa’s letters to Grandma. I will make it a survey. Grandpa is source number three.
The letters are in Mom’s closet on the high shelf, so I have to lug a chair to reach them. I create a clunking racket as I rummage through journals and baby books and photo albums. Mom comes in to ask me what I’m doing.
“I’m just looking for Grandpa’s letters.”
“Marie, is something bothering you?” Mom raises an eyebrow, but I’ve found the letter box. I pull the chair back to Dad’s desk and retreat to my room with the letters from the expert.
“Dear Emma,” reads the first one I open. It smells like smoky dust. “Hello beautiful. I miss the glow of your pretty face. …”
I quit there and tally the score: three to zero.

Another time, my uncle, who was only three years older than I was, put me in a baby carriage and took me for a walk around the house. In front of the house was a road, and on the other side of the road was an irrigation canal. When he took me across the road, the carriage slid into the canal. It was empty at that time, but my uncle couldn’t get us out. My mother felt concern for me and began to call me. Then she looked for me in the house but couldn’t find me. She felt prompted to look on the road and in the canal. She found us and got us out of the canal just before the water started to come through the canal. Had she not listened to the Spirit, my uncle and I would have drowned.

But just under three months and several blood tests later, I miscarried again—this time only a week before Christmas. Another three months passed and my hopes soared after another positive pregnancy test, only to miscarry a week later—yet another stoplight.
I got pregnant again, and my next due date was going to land right around the following Christmas. I had a good feeling about this pregnancy. We had seen the heartbeat on an early ultrasound and knew that family members were praying for us. While we were sitting in an endowment session in the temple one day, I had a distinct stream of thoughts: “If I were to lose this pregnancy, would my faith hold up? Of course it would. But of course I won’t have another miscarriage because this time I am ready to accept the Lord’s will no matter what.”
Despite my positive attitude, several weeks later I saw the signs, went in for the ultrasounds, and began the painful process that I felt all too familiar with. My faith did not hold up quite like I had expected. The answers that had sustained me through my previous miscarriages no longer seemed adequate. A wave of depression set in. I felt broken, empty, and even slightly betrayed. My husband and I weren’t the only ones waiting on the Lord; our daughter frequently told us how much she wanted a baby brother or sister. Our hearts ached for her as well. As I turned my vulnerable emotions over to the Lord in fervent prayer, I again received a clear witness that Heavenly Father was very aware of my pain and circumstances and that He loved me. Although my circumstances remained the same, this sweet and simple experience miraculously lightened the burden I felt and gave me the ability to cope and even feel happy as I continued through my day-to-day life. Whatever the future held, I would be OK.
When genetic testing came back several months later with no answers, we again felt confused about the purpose of these setbacks in our lives. I tried my best to set my own desires aside and align my will with the Lord’s, but during the difficult moments my heart would cry out, “What am I supposed to learn from this? I’m trying to do something good! Where is the help I need?”

“The Award” is the story of several high school football stars who decide to reward the ugliest girl in their school with a corsage and a poem extolling her ugliness. They assign Kevin, the only Latter-day Saint on the team, to deliver the “award.” When Kevin reads the poem to his girl friend, Colleen, she begs him not to go through with the cruel joke, but he is afraid of losing his friends if he backs out. Before he can deliver the award, however, he has an opportunity to meet Mary Beth, the “ugly girl,” and discovers that she is really an outstanding person who donates much of her time to helping handicapped children.

Kevin and Colleen decide to go ahead and give Mary Beth an award, but they change it from a cruel put-down to a tribute for her acts of service. When the rest of the football team discovers the change, things become interesting.

Eventually, they too have a chance to meet the real Mary Beth. Some of them, led by the fullback, are unimpressed. “There are winners, and there are losers,” he says. “We’re the winners, and the girls we date are winners. The rest are all losers.”

But Craig, the quarterback, says, “We pick the person in school who everybody agrees is a loser, but then she turns out to be okay once we get to know her. … What if every one of them turns out to be special in some way?”

Emma Swenson Hansen, another woman of great strength and endurance, regularly helped her husband in the fields when her “condition” would permit it and had the reputation for loading hay better than anyone in the community. Once the hay she was stacking slipped, and her husband saw her slide and fall to the ground. “What are you doing down there?” he asked. “I came down for more hay,” she gamely replied. Her history shows that she kept bees, milked cows, fed the calves, cared for the chickens, cut alfalfa with a scythe to give to her pigs, cured their pork, half-soled the family shoes, and made all the family’s clothing.3

One day the Christian students had a special assembly. We were invited to share our testimonies. A hush fell over the room. No one went up to the stage. Everyone was too afraid! I am very shy, so I felt that way too.
Then a warm wave flowed over me, and I felt the Holy Ghost tell me, “Go, go.” I said a quick prayer in my heart. I walked up to the stage with butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
I told my classmates that Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to talk to Him often. I shared my experiences with prayer. I said I know Heavenly Father always listens to me and wants to help me. I was glad I had the courage to share my testimony. I felt like I had been a shining light in a quiet room.

When I think of progress, I tend to think of something tangible—something I can physically see or touch. In college, for example, I studied, took tests, and attended classes for four years until I was able to hold a diploma in my hands that represented all the progress I had made. You can also measure progress through other everyday things like checking off daily “to-do” tasks that make you feel productive.

There once was a young boy who had a very important question. He wanted to know which church was right so he could join it. He read a promise in the Bible in James 1:5: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” The boy believed that promise. He believed that if he sincerely asked Heavenly Father which church was right, he would get an answer.
You have probably guessed that the boy’s name was Joseph Smith. He studied the scriptures and believed in the promise. He prayed and was given a wonderful answer—Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared and told him not to join any of the churches. Joseph learned for himself that the promise in James is true, that a person who lacks wisdom can pray to Heavenly Father and receive an answer. Many answers will come not from a heavenly appearance but through the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

Photograph provided by the author
When President Russell M. Nelson described a home-centered Church during general conference in 2018, and when the Children and Youth program was announced in 2019, our family was excited.
As 2020 approached, however, we met a significant obstacle. Beginning in January, I had to leave home for a six-month deployment. I knew that my wife and I had a sacred responsibility to center gospel learning in our home for our five children, but I wondered how I could do my part while away from home.
Our children began brainstorming goals that would help them increase “in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man” (Luke 2:52), just as the Savior did. My eight-year-old daughter told me one of her goals was to learn to cook with Daddy. With a broken heart, I had to redirect her goal toward something she could do for a while without my help. My sons wanted to become better at basketball and running—two things we love to do together. I encouraged them in their goal, knowing I would miss opportunities to help them. As a family, we prepared the best we could.
Family separation is always a trial, but the combination of technology and the direction of a living prophet allowed me to take part in our family’s gospel learning after all.
We felt united, even when we were 10 time zones apart, as we studied Come, Follow Me. When time allowed, I would get on an early-morning video chat during my family’s evening scripture study and talk about the Book of Mormon chapters we had been studying. Over the phone, I would talk to my children about the Book of Mormon videos, and my wife and I would discuss ideas for family home evening.
Wanting to help my children with Children and Youth, I set my own goals and sent the children handwritten notes every week sharing my progress and asking them about their goals. Through regular phone calls, I could even join in family prayer at times.
During my separation from my family, I quickly saw the blessings of following the guidance of the prophet. I also found that creating a home of gospel learning is possible even when I was half a world away!

A man who frequently demeaned his wife and indulged in angry outbursts at his children focused on the joy of being worthy to have the Holy Ghost as his constant companion. That focus motivated him to put off the natural man, to which he had too often succumbed, and make needed changes.

A rancher interviewed a number of men in the process of trying to find a new ranch foreman. All one man said when asked if he could do the job was, “I can sleep through the storm.” Soon after he was hired, a torrential storm came with gale-force winds and pelting rain. The rancher went to the bunkhouse and banged on the door. He couldn’t believe that the new foreman was in there sleeping. He was angry with the foreman and let words fly. The foreman responded, “I told you when you hired me that I could sleep through a storm.”
Upon inspection of the ranch, the rancher found that the animals were all taken care of, tarps covered the equipment and the haystacks, buildings were secure, everything was tied down—everything was taken care of. After riding through the night inspecting the ranch, the ranch owner understood what it meant to be able to say, “I can sleep through the storm.”

Joseph Toronto woke up in a panic and looked around the ship’s dark cabin. Pulling the scratchy wool blanket up to his chin, he realized that it was just a dream that had awakened him. He’d been dreaming about how the missionaries who had recently baptized him counseled him to go to Nauvoo. But Joseph loved being on the sea in the sunshine and salty air. Even though he couldn’t swim—none of the sailors could—he planned on spending his whole life out on the water.
Joseph went back to sleep, listening to the gentle creaking of his small ship and the other ships in the harbor as they rocked in the ocean.
The next time he awoke it was morning, and Joseph heard his fellow sailors already at work. Joseph felt troubled about the dream. Pushing the feeling away, he got up and prepared for a long day of trading and selling fruits and vegetables.
It was 1845, and Boston Harbor was one of the busiest trading ports in the world. Ships large and small from many countries sailed to this harbor to trade their products for American goods. Joseph was the captain of his ship, and he had sailed from his home country of Italy to do the same.
On deck, Joseph secured the cargo as his men brought up the anchor. They were going to sail across the harbor to meet with other traders, but a flash of lightning on the horizon made Joseph uneasy. Dark storm clouds were gathering in the sky. Still, Joseph and his crew headed out, sure that they could make it before the storm hit. But they were only halfway across the harbor when the wind started churning up the water. All the ships in the harbor were being tossed around like toys.
Rain poured down, and the rumble of thunder mixed with the sound of Joseph yelling orders to his men to secure the sails and get below. They quickly tied the sails to the tall mast so the fabric wouldn’t rip in the wind, then ran to the lower decks for safety.
Joseph glanced around the top deck to make sure all his men were below, then looked up to see another ship being thrown straight at them by the wind. He jumped toward the door to the lower decks, but the two ships collided and everything went overboard, including Joseph.
To be continued …

I go to a small school where inappropriate language is used often. It’s hard to walk through the hallway and listen to it. I had a hard time with it at first, but when I was at a youth fireside, someone mentioned that having a playlist of Church music in your head would help you ignore the language. I tried it, and it works for me. You can also kindly ask them to avoid speaking like that around you. As you do this, you’ll need courage. Remember Joshua 1:9: “Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”

Emily A., 17, Missouri, USA