Gospel Story Finder

I conclude with a testimony I heard this past week from three recent converts who bore their testimonies with tears in their eyes for the knowledge they have gained in just a few short months. They testified that Heavenly Father does live, that he cares, that Jesus is the Christ and that, yes, they have a road map and a pattern to follow, and it is contained in the Book of Mormon—that blueprint given to bring them safely home. They testified that Joseph Smith is the Prophet of this dispensation and that today, standing as the mouthpiece of the Lord, is President Ezra Taft Benson. I join with them in this testimony, for I know it all to be true with all my heart because of the life and the blessings that I have been granted. I bear you this testimony in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Because the branch is small, Masha has a chance to bear her testimony in nearly every testimony meeting. And for two years, since she was six years old, she has played the piano or directed the singing for nearly every Church meeting. (She and her 13-year-old cousin, Katya, take turns.) At first Masha could play only the melody. Now she plays with both hands. Her favorite hymns to play are “God Be with You Till We Meet Again,” “Silent Night,” and “Count Your Many Blessings.”

My uncle Keith has been really sick. I decided that I should fast for him on fast Sunday. On that Sunday he had the strength to go to church. On the next fast Sunday, I fasted for him again. I know that fasting can help the person that you fast for.
Isaac E., age 11, Colorado, USA

The first day of my senior year, I felt lucky to discover that Alyce Pringle was in two of my classes. I say lucky because a class with Alyce meant a class with pizzazz. No one ever knew what to expect from her. Alyce was Hollenda High’s school clown, a true comedienne who, with the raise of an eyebrow, could create hysteria. The teachers, therefore, weren’t particularly wild about her, but we, her classmates, loved her.
It was Alyce who was chosen to play the part of the domineering mother in our school play Goodbye Birdie and who brought down the house just by walking out on the stage wearing a gray wig and big sloppy shoes. It was Alyce who ran for cheerleader in her dad’s old army uniform. It was Alyce who outwitted all the candidates for secretary of the school by using portions of all their speeches for her speech. “Did you hear what Alyce did (or said) today?” people would ask each other in the halls. No one asked which Alyce. Everyone knew it was the Alyce.
Why Alyce began picking on me, I’m not sure. Perhaps it was because I was shy and blushed easily. She always mentioned my blushing, which made me blush more. Maybe it was because I was too stoic and serious for my own good. “Here’s Bill,” she’d say, mimicking the way I pushed my glasses back, my nose in a book. Maybe it was because she had found out that I am a Mormon.
One day when Mr. Jackson asked me to work out a problem on the blackboard, I unthinkingly put the chalk in my mouth for a moment. Alyce noticed it right away. “Bill!” she said loudly. “What will people think!” I took the chalk out quickly and blushed as 25 students giggled. When I got back to my seat, I surprised Alyce by joking back. I faked a cough. Alyce liked that.
I didn’t really mind Alyce’s teasing. I’d never been in the limelight before, and it was fun and exciting. If Alyce had been malicious in her teasing, it might have been a different story, but she was never cruel. She never teased behind anyone’s back. Being teased by Alyce, I felt, was a compliment. Because we sat next to each other in one of our classes—algebra—we began talking once in a while before class. At first Alyce only joked, no matter what I said. But then in time she let her mask slip once in a while, and I saw that Alyce wasn’t all clown. I doubted that many people knew that. It was just when I thought Alyce and I might become fairly good friends, however, that I did something that almost ruined our friendship.
Mr. Thorndike had thrown a surprise Spanish vocabulary test at us. It had surprised even me. Usually I was one step ahead of Thorndike and anticipated his tests, but this time he had fooled me. I had only read over the words once and had worked on my physics project the night before instead.
After the test was over, I knew I’d flunked it royally. I’d missed at least 14 of the words. Then, to my humiliation, Mr. Thorndike had us correct the tests in class. He gathered them up and then passed them around haphazardly. I wondered self-consciously who would get mine and think I was a real dunce.
The next day after he had recorded the grades, Mr. Thorndike passed the tests back to us. “Congratulations, Bill. You got the only 100,” he said, as he handed my test back.
“I couldn’t have.”
“Well, you did.”
“No, I …” I looked at the test. It definitely had my name on it, and it also had a big underlined 100 percent in the corner. I controlled a gasp. All the spaces I had left blank had been carefully filled in. Someone had cheated for me. But why? I looked around the room and saw that the students sitting around Alyce were looking at me and giggling. Alyce had her head down but was grinning widely. I realized what I should have known. Somehow Alyce had managed to get my test paper and had corrected it. As a prank she had filled in the right answers. Now what do I do, I wondered. Alyce, why did you have to do that? I thought unhappily. I looked back down at the test. I couldn’t accept an A, and the grades were already recorded in Mr. Thorndike’s roll book. Yet, I couldn’t tell on Alyce either.
“Thought you said you flunked it.” Ralph, my buddy, walked out of class with me. I still had the test paper in my hand, my fingers covering the 100 percent.
“Alyce has really done it,” I said.
“Oh, no.” Ralph began to laugh.
“What can I do? What would you do?”
“I don’t know. Just forget it, I guess.”
“Ralph, I can’t accept an A. I told you, I flunked it.”
“Sneak up and change the grade when Thorndike isn’t looking?”
“Sure.”
“Then just forget about it. You get Alyce in trouble and the whole school will be down on you.”
“But most people know what you and I stand for. They know who all the Latter-day Saints are. Even if I didn’t mind being dishonest personally, and I do, I still can’t cheat because it would put the Church in a bad light.”
“Having everyone in the school hate you wouldn’t help the Church much either, would it?”
“No.”
“Just forget it.”
“You’re probably right.” Sure, I thought, Ralph is right. I won’t make waves. I’ll just forget it. But by the end of the day, by algebra, I still hadn’t been able to forget it. I knew I’d have to talk to Alyce about it.
“Got a 100 on the Spanish test, huh?” Alyce said grinning. Her dark eyes crinkled mischievously. When she wasn’t pulling faces, Alyce was a pretty girl.
“Yes,” I said. “Amazing isn’t it, since I didn’t study?” She could sense my misery.
“You don’t sound very happy for someone who just got an A on a test he didn’t even study for.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Alyce, you’ve put me in a spot. I’ve thought about it, and I can’t accept that A. Now what do I do?”
“Oh, brother! I should have known better. You’re such a bore, Bill, so predictable.” She tried to laugh it off. “Well, go ahead and tell. I don’t care.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I said I don’t care. Do what you feel you have to do.” I could tell she did care. Talking to her hadn’t made the situation any easier. Then, in the middle of one of the algebra problems, I thought of something. Mr. Thorndike would have no way of knowing that Alyce had corrected my test unless I told him. I could simply tell him that someone had changed my answers and that I deserved an F, not an A. He wouldn’t ask me if I knew who had corrected the test because he wouldn’t think I knew. How would I know? Even if he suspected Alyce, he had no proof. And, if he asked me if I knew who had done it, I’d just tell him outright that I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. After algebra, I smiled at Alyce and touched her arm.
“Don’t worry,” I said.
After school I went right into Spanish and told Mr. Thorndike what had happened. He seemed angry, but he didn’t ask me if I knew who had done it. I stood and watched as he crossed out the A and put an F in its place.
“Next time maybe I’d better be prepared,” I said sheepishly.
“Yes,” he said.
I thought that was the end of it, but it wasn’t. The next day I could tell by the way Thorndike stood up that he was wearing war paint. I held my breath.
“Day before yesterday someone corrected Bill McKinley’s vocabulary test,” Mr. Thorndike said slowly. “That person filled in some right answers and gave Bill a grade he didn’t deserve. Now I want to know who that person is.” The color must have drained from my face. I didn’t dare look to see what Alyce was doing for fear I’d give her away. “Let me continue,” Mr. Thorndike said. “If that person does not identify himself, this whole class will be punished. I don’t know how right now, but I’m sure I’ll think of something. Now who did it?”
I put my head in my hands and began moaning inwardly. Why did this have to be happening. Tension increased in the room as no one spoke. My chest felt thick inside. Then I surprised myself. “Look,” I spoke out. “I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble.”
“Quiet, Bill,” Mr. Thorndike said sternly. “Once again, I ask, who did it?” he said dramatically.
“I said I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble,” I repeated, once again surprising myself and Mr. Thorndike who still had his mouth open and was staring at me.
Before he had a chance to rebuke me, a clear voice said, “I corrected it.”
“Who said that?” Mr. Thorndike looked around the room.
“Me. I did it,” Alyce said bravely. “It was just a joke.”
Mr. Thorndike, who had never liked Alyce much, nodded. Anger flared in his eyes. “I should have known. Yes, I should have known. Well, I’m tired of this kind of thing, young lady, and we’ll have no more of it.” He was speaking loudly. “You’re seniors now, and I’m tired of this kind of business. It’s thoroughly immature. Next year you’ll be going out into the world, and you are still acting like children. Alyce, you’ll see me after class. I’ll have to take measures. I’m sick of it, and I’ll have no more of it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
The rest of the day I was miserable. I should have listened to Ralph, I thought. It was such a small thing, one lousy test. Such a stupid thing to make such a big deal about, to have been such a stickler over. Why hadn’t I just kept my mouth shut?
I didn’t know what to say to Alyce later when I sat next to her in algebra, and she wouldn’t look at me. She had her head down, and her hair had draped down in front of her face. “Alyce,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d do that. It makes me sick. What did he say after class?”
“Oh, he said it would affect my citizenship for the semester. He was mad.”
“You know I didn’t want anything like that to happen.”
“I know,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” But it did matter, for my relationship with Alyce changed. Although she still joked with others, she quit teasing me, and though we still spoke, she seemed aloof. At the time I thought it was because Alyce was angry, but now I realize she was probably just embarrassed. It saddened me to have a barrier between us, but I figured that in time, maybe before the end of the school year, our friendship would be back to normal.

Frog and Toad are best friends. They learn a lot about life and each other from their adventures together with dragons and giants, cookies, a list, a garden, and a dream.

Modesty is very important and can send a strong message about who you are. I am involved in ballet and dance, and when I’ve talked to my coach about my modesty standards, the costumes have been modified for me. I don’t wear costumes and other clothing where my belly would show, and this is very important to me and my dancing. Certain clothing is required for each sport, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have standards.
Meghan Z., 16, California, USA

There are moments in our lives that can shape our core selves. We usually don’t perceive at the time that these experiences will prove pivotal. We tend to regard them as fairly routine or mundane. It is only in the process of time that we come to sense something of their importance for us personally. Nor do these events have to involve spectacular happenings - some very “small and simple things” can imprint themselves on our minds and hearts and influence the pattern of our lives. I had one such experience as a six-year-old child.
The year was 1979, the location - Dublin, Ireland. The event was the building of the Finglas Chapel (now Dublin Ireland Stake centre). In those days members were expected to help with the manual labour of constructing a chapel. My Mother, brothers and I, went along to help. I was six. Nowadays young children would not be permitted on building sites and, obviously, there were limits to what we could do. So, we carried bricks from one portion of the site to another so that they could be used to construct the building and the carpark.
I don’t recall all that happened, but I do recall carrying what seemed like very heavy bricks. No doubt I was slow. I am sure that sometimes I wanted to play more than I wanted to work. I am confident that I contributed little to that great endeavour. But I look back upon that work with happiness. It helped to bring me to God and His Church - represented not just by bricks and mortar - but more crucially by God’s covenant cause.

During the final months of our mission last year, we experienced an event that taught once again this profound principle that each of us is known and loved by God.
Elder Neal A. Maxwell was coming to New York City for some Church business, and we were informed that he would also like to have a mission conference. We were so pleased to have this opportunity to hear from one of the Lord’s chosen servants. I was asked to select one of our missionaries to provide the opening prayer for the meeting. I might have randomly picked one of the missionaries to pray, but felt to ponder and prayerfully select one whom the Lord would have me ask. In going through the missionary roster, a name boldly stood out to me: Elder Joseph Appiah of Accra, Ghana. He was the one I felt the Lord wanted to pray at the meeting.
Prior to the mission conference, I was having a regularly scheduled interview with Elder Appiah and told him of the prompting that I had received for him to pray. With amazement and humility in his eyes, he began to weep deeply. Somewhat surprised by his reaction, I started to tell him that it was all right and he wouldn’t have to pray, when he informed me he would love to offer the prayer, that his emotion was caused by the love he has for Elder Maxwell. He told me that this Apostle is very special to the Saints in Ghana and to his own family. Elder Maxwell had called his father to be the district president in Accra and had sealed his mother and father in the Salt Lake Temple.
Now, I didn’t know any of what I just related about this missionary or his family, but the Lord did and inspired a mission president on behalf of one missionary to provide a lifelong memory and testimony-building experience.
At the meeting, Elder Appiah offered a wonderful prayer and made a humble contribution to a meeting where Elder Maxwell taught the missionaries of the attributes of Jesus Christ. All who were there will never forget the feelings of love they experienced for their Savior.

Years ago, when I was a stake president in Paris, France, I was told that President Gordon B. Hinckley was coming to Paris for a couple of days and I was going to be his driver. I would pick him up at the airport and take him to his hotel so he could rest. The next day I would take him to do a number of visits. One visit he wanted to make was to a U.S. military cemetery, where his brother, who died of influenza during World War I, is buried.
But when I picked up President Hinckley, he didn’t look very tired. He held his cane up and said, “President Caussé! Let’s go to work!”
He wanted to go to the cemetery right away. Unfortunately, I had arranged with the director to go there the next day, so when we arrived, it was closed and nobody was there.
The next day, we were so busy that we didn’t have time to go back to the cemetery. That evening, President Hinckley handed me a $10 (US) bill and said, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to go to the cemetery. I would be very grateful if you could buy flowers and put them on my brother’s grave.”
I bought flowers, but I didn’t use that bill. The following Sunday afternoon, I went with my family and put the flowers on the grave. We took a picture of our family in front of the grave with all the flowers and sent it to President Hinckley.
I still have that $10 bill. It’s in my scriptures. If I were to ask, “What is the value of this bill?” most people would say, “Ten dollars.” But for me, it’s worth far more. This bill was worth ten dollars, but for me, it’s priceless now. It’s a memory of a moment I had with a prophet of God.

During the Vietnam War, we held a series of special meetings for members of the Church called into military service. After such a meeting in Chicago, I was standing next to President Harold B. Lee when a fine young Latter-day Saint told President Lee that he was on leave to visit his home and then had orders to Vietnam. He asked President Lee to give him a blessing.

Much to my surprise, President Lee said, “Your father should give you the blessing.”

Very disappointed, the boy said, “My father wouldn’t know how to give a blessing.”

President Lee answered, “Go home, my boy, and tell your father that you are going away to war and want to receive a father’s blessing from him. If he does not know how, tell him that you will sit on a chair. He can stand behind you and put his hands on your head and say whatever comes.”

This young soldier went away sorrowing.

About two years later I met him again. I do not recall where. He reminded me of that experience and said, “I did as I was told to do. I explained to my father that I would sit on the chair and that he should put his hands on my head. The power of the priesthood filled both of us. That was a strength and protection in those perilous months of battle.”

A few years later, I was shaving one morning when my second child, who was about four years old, came in the bathroom with a stick and some soap and began to imitate me. When I saw him, I remembered what my uncle said. His advice came back to me in a profound way.

In December 2020, Church services resumed, and the missionary force started growing, but so did political unrest, and President Russell M. Nelson ultimately decided the missionaries needed to move out of the country.
Miraculously, some of the missionaries serving in remote areas were able to fly to the nation’s capital before access to Addis Ababa was cut off. “On our mission, we learned that you’re never alone. The Lord is at the helm” recalled Darice. Missionaries who had been tested for COVID-19 were put on a plane to Kenya, where the Ethiopia mission was relocated.
They operated from Kenya, although most of their missionaries were reassigned temporarily to the Kenya Nairobi Mission. Those who remained in the Ethiopia mission used telephones and limited technology to connect with members and friends of the Church in Ethiopia, where local leaders took over the responsibility of missionary work.
Of the Kenya experience, senior missionaries, Elder and Sister Moyers said, “We experienced that unexpected and drastic change presses on our emotions, intellect, and especially our faith in our purpose . . . Being relocated is either a blessing or a challenge, and each missionary has the agency to choose which it will be for him or her.”
The Moyers served as member-leader support missionaries and helped to build the Church from within. President Dudfield said, “We learned the significant value of missionary service and the great value of senior couples. This is a call for those willing and able to serve. It changes your life.”

“I found myself in basically the same situation a year ago after I joined the Church. I had quite a time convincing my family that I was still interested in them. When I came home from school, they too wanted me to do things with them on Sundays. They wanted me, for instance, to attend their church. I went to my bishop for advice. He stressed the importance of the family and said that I might have to sacrifice some for their sakes.

“I did just that. I attended whatever meeting I could, whether it was priesthood, Sunday School, or sacrament meeting, and I attended their meeting also, which meant I missed some of mine.

“It was finally my father who told me it wasn’t necessary to attend their meetings any longer. Missing a few meetings didn’t hinder my testimony or give me guilt feelings. My situation at home is a lot better because of my going their way.”

“Once I met a successful businessman who smiled slowly when our introductions were over.
“‘You don’t remember me,’ he said.
“‘I’m sorry. No. Should I?’ I regretted the oversight, however innocent.
“‘No problem. We were depression kids when our paths crossed before. I was poor folks from the shack at the top of the long wooden steps where the hill slopes into town. Remember the place?’
“I remembered.
“‘I lived there all during my high school years and didn’t have a friend in the world. No one would even dance with me. One winter’s night at a church function I mustered my nerve to ask you to dance with me. I knew I was in over my head, your being one of the “in” crowd and all, but I decided to go for broke.’
“‘What happened?’
“‘We danced! Not only that, but you were nice to me. Maybe this sounds crazy, but it’s true. That day hope came back into my life.’”

In conversation, just bring up one of your beliefs. Maybe not every person you talk to is ready to hear what you have to say, but someone will be. I know I was. Now I am being a missionary to my nonmember family, and what a great feeling that is. I am regularly bringing my mother to church, and my sister has attended some youth activities. My parents have supported my decisions in the Church all the way. But for now I am going to be a missionary just like that kid at school. I encourage you to do the same. You never know how many lives you can change by answering a couple of questions.

I was very touched to read “Primary—How Great Is Our Joy” in the June 1998 issue of L’Etoile (French). The publication of such an article in L’Etoile is very comforting. It allows members of the Church from the entire world to get to know their brothers and sisters in Madagascar.
I gave the magazine to several friends who are showing interest in the gospel. Some of them are beginning to listen to the missionary discussions.
I want you to know how much I appreciate this magazine. Each time I read it, something stirs within me. In my heart, I feel that Joseph Smith was truly a prophet of God.
Fleurette Ranaivojaona,Antananarivo Second Branch, Antananarivo Madagascar District

Faith in God is also a way to strengthen your family. Lindsey had just turned eight and received her copy of the Faith in God guidebook. Her parents reviewed the guidebook with her. Lindsey volunteered to give the lesson for family home evening. She chose one of the topics in her Faith in God guidebook. With the help of her family, Lindsey presented family home evening and also completed an activity.

Then a Brother Vance rose from his seat in the congregation. A large, strong, grandfatherly man who worked well with his hands, he related his thankfulness to the Lord for the growth of some lilac bushes that were most precious to his wife.
The bushes had grown so tall they blocked the sunlight to the Vances’ tiny home. Brother Vance told his wife he had to cut the bushes back to ground level and move the roots to a new location. She vigorously protested his decision, afraid the bushes would not survive. But he felt it was necessary.
He told of the painful but loving task of pruning the bushes, preparing the soil in the new location, and, finally, digging up the roots and planting them.
He described how every day he weeded, watered, and looked for signs of new life. The lack of new growth, he said, made him worried and concerned that he had destroyed his wife’s lovely bushes. The more he thought of his love for his eternal companion, the more feeling he developed for the roots he had nurtured in the earth.
Finally, early one morning, he was relieved to find green evidence that the roots were alive and growing. He brought his wife to see her lilacs and offered a prayer of thankfulness for the growing results of his work.

It’s family home evening in the Rose household, and Emeline (9) and William (6) listen intently as their dad plays two notes on the piano. What song does it sound like? “I Hope They Call Me on a Mission”? No. The children listen again as Dad adds one more note to the tune. “‘I Love to See the Temple’!” Emeline exclaims. That’s it!
Emeline and William and their older brother, Michael (15), listen to the piano and guess a few more Primary songs during one of their favorite family home evening activities. Music is important to the whole family, and it blends into their lives every day.

On an evening in November 1999, when our family home evening was finished and we were going to bed, my mother said, “Don’t forget that next Sunday is fast Sunday, OK?”
I asked her if we were going to fast as a family for a specific purpose.
“I don’t know yet,” she replied.
Suddenly, I felt impressed to fast and pray to prepare to receive my patriarchal blessing.
At 10:00 P.M. I had not been able to go to sleep, so I went to my parents’ room. I felt there was something I had to do that night. My mother told me to read for a while and she would turn out my light later. I went back to my room, picked up a school textbook, and started to read. I found some information I needed for a school assignment that was due the next day, information I had not found in my other books.
When I finished the assignment, it was about 11:00 P.M. I placed the book and the assignment on the desk and went to bed. But even though my body and mind were tired, my spirit was uneasy. I lifted my head a little and noticed that the very wrinkled first page of a First Presidency Message was sticking out from a pile of books. I retrieved the November 1995 A Liahona (Portuguese) and started reading “Serving the Lord and Resisting the Devil” by President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First Presidency. The last section of the message was entitled “Fasting and Prayer.”
After finishing the article, I promised myself I would pray and fast about my patriarchal blessing. Then I placed the magazine on the desk and again tried to sleep—but to no avail. So I picked up A Liahona again and turned the page. “My Miracle” was the title of the very next article. I was touched when I realized this article was a young woman’s experience of receiving her patriarchal blessing. She said it is necessary to pray and fast in order to prepare ourselves spiritually for a patriarchal blessing.
I had spoken to my bishop before about receiving my blessing, and he felt I should wait. After I read the young woman’s message, I understood the reason for his reply. I had not fasted or even prayed about this matter. After finishing the article, I knelt and prayed fervently to my Heavenly Father. For the first time in my life, I felt the presence of the Holy Ghost. After this prayer, I put the magazine away and was able to sleep.
I prayed and waited anxiously all week. On Sunday I fasted, and I went to see the bishop. After hearing about my experience, he said, “I think you’re ready for your patriarchal blessing.” It made me very happy to know that the Lord wanted me to learn about fasting and prayer—and to prepare spiritually for my blessing.
I know the Lord loves us. He gives us patriarchal blessings to guide us.