Gospel Story Finder

After my childhood challenges, I am confident that Heavenly Father knew exactly what I needed to enable me to trust my eternal companion. He placed many steadfast examples of fatherhood in my life. These included my righteous grandfather, who loved the Lord, and a diligent home teacher who—understanding my family’s financial limitations—took me on as a student at his art studio and inspired me to follow in his footsteps professionally. In my young adult life, heavenly healing was also delivered through the unexpected blessing of gaining a righteous stepfather, who was patient with my hesitancy to trust a father figure and who continually showed me kindness.

One time I was watching baseball on TV and it was a commercial break. I saw an inappropriate thing and looked away.
Henry V., age 8, Maryland, USA

On a cold November day, a question from an American missionary asking for directions to the local postal office caught Takashi Wada off guard.
The 15-year-old had been warned by his father to avoid Mormons, who had been visiting with people on the streets of Nagano, Japan, just three minutes from their home. But Takashi was impressed with the American elder’s Japanese.
A few days later, another missionary stopped Takashi. He had not been in Japan long. In broken Japanese, he tried to share the story of Joseph Smith.
Takashi did not understand everything, “but I felt that I should listen,” he recalled.
The missionaries taught him the steps to prayer and the lessons. He attended Church meetings and was touched by the testimonies of local members. Feeling constrained by the expectations of his Buddhist family, Takashi kept telling the missionaries, “I can’t join the Church, but I would like to learn more.”
Two years later, before Takashi left to study in the United States at age 17, his parents consented, and he joined the Church.

Thank you for “Preparing for My Endowment” by Rachel Barton Morris in the October New Era. This article has excited me for a temple marriage and given me strength to find an eternal companion with whom I can be sealed for time and all eternity. I will continue to live by my standards and date young men who have a strong testimony of the gospel as well. Thank you, Rachel, for your inspiring words!Liberty Nelson, Clifton First Ward, Preston Idaho North Stake

To those of you who are struggling and losing ground, you who have been lured into that building through one of its many doors and now find no doors going out, you who feel trapped and defeated, we assure you there is hope, and all is not lost. Through his atonement, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has provided a way for you to escape that awful place. He knows you intimately. He knows your name, and he knows your pain. If you will approach your Father in Heaven with a broken heart and contrite spirit, you will find yourself miraculously lifted out of that great and spacious building and into the loving and comforting arms of the Savior of mankind.
At your earthly home, you will find your father’s arms have always been open for you and that during your absence your mother never stopped setting your place at the table in front of your empty chair. You will see clearly the difference between telestial happiness and celestial happiness, and you will experience and savor celestial joy through this life and throughout all eternity.

We invited our neighbors and the missionaries to help with our family nativity. We dressed up as shepherds and angels, and our neighbors got to be Mary and Joseph because they have a baby. The sister missionaries were the Wise Men, and the couple missionaries read the story from Luke 2 while we acted it out.
Rose, Jack, Elijah, and Ellen S., ages 9, 11, 8, and 13, Texas, USA

One evening, I met with my boss to discuss my situation and the goal I wanted to achieve (i.e. serving a full-time mission). After listening to me, he set a condition: If I would forgo my dream and stay with him, he would do everything for me. I knew he could do that. He had good intentions when he set this condition. He was very close to me, and I had become like a son to him. He trusted me more than some of his brothers. For me, the Savior‘s call was the most important thing. I, therefore, declined the offer. He even sent people to plead with me, but it was all in vain because I was determined to serve a mission.

For example, Dora can smile. Her smile makes those around her smile. Total strangers have stopped us in the airport to ask if they can take a picture with Dora simply because they have been overwhelmed by the light of her radiant smile.

Some years ago one of the kindest and most loved men to live on the earth died. I speak of Louis C. Jacobsen. He ministered to those in need, he helped the immigrant to find employment, and he delivered more sermons at more funeral services than any other person I have known.
One day while in a reflective mood, Louis Jacobsen told me of his boyhood. He was the son of a poor Danish widow. He was small in stature, not particularly handsome—easily the object of his classmates’ thoughtless jokes. In Sunday School one Sabbath morning, the children made fun of his patched trousers and his worn shirt. Too proud to cry, tiny Louis ran from the chapel, stopping at last, out of breath, to sit and rest on the curb that ran along one of the main streets of Salt Lake City. Clear water flowed along the gutter next to the curb where Louis sat. From his pocket he took a piece of paper that contained the outlined Sunday School lesson and skillfully shaped a paper boat, which he launched on the flowing water. From his hurt boyish heart came the determined words, “I’ll never go back.”
Suddenly, through his tears Louis saw reflected in the water the image of a large and well-dressed man. Louis turned his face upward and recognized George Burbidge, the Sunday School superintendent. “May I sit down with you?” asked the kind leader. Louis nodded affirmatively. There on the curb sat a good Samaritan ministering to one who surely was in need. Several paper boats were made and launched while the conversation continued. At last the leader stood and, with a boy’s hand tightly clutching his, they returned to Sunday School. Later Louis himself presided over that same Sunday School. Throughout his long life of service, he never failed to acknowledge the traveler who rescued him along a Jericho Road.

Mother brought the china with her
on the ship from Denmark.
It was part of her dowry
and had roses hand painted on the rims.
Her eyes were tight when she gave me the box.
“For the glory of the Lord,” she said,
And then shut herself in her room.
When we left and saw the temple burning,
Mother cried. Many women cried, but—
I don’t think it was for their china.

Jerry and Karen Johnson served in Hong Kong, teaching English as a second language. One day after class, near the end of their mission, a little second-grade girl, to whom Sister Johnson had become very attached, came up to her and, putting out her arms as though she were an airplane flying, asked, “Meiguo?” meaning “America?” Sister Johnson looked at her and said, “Yes, we are returning to America.” She buried her head in Sister Johnson’s chest and sobbed. “I held her tight and sobbed right along with her,” Sister Johnson said. “Fifty other students gathered around, sobbing right along with us. Our mission has placed us in the center of a whirlwind of love that seems to envelop us.”

The Spurs unit at the University of Utah cashed in with a singing valentine service. For fifty cents clients could select one of seven valentine songs, ranging from amorous to smart-aleck, which the Spurs girls would then sing on the telephone to whatever lucky person the client named. Collecting the money was only half the fun.

David also set an example for another friend at school. “I helped him to stop swearing. I told him it was a bad thing,” he says. Now he brings his friend to church sometimes. David tries to be a good example because he wants to be worthy to go to the temple someday.

At a meeting recently, a friend told of how, facing a particularly difficult problem, he asked Elder Boyd K. Packer for direction. In giving his counsel, Elder Packer asked, “Would it make any difference if you remember that this is truly the Church of Jesus Christ?” Set clearly against the reality of truth, the problem was easily confronted.

On my last attempt in 1981, I was with about twenty people, waiting at the Vung-Tau beach at night for a boat. The security guards saw us and gave chase. Two women and I began to climb a hill fearfully. After about an hour, we came to a small deserted enclosure and remained there until morning.
When the sun rose, we could see we were in a cave that had been converted into a shelter complete with doors that were still in good condition. The floor was concrete, and the cave contained some used cooking utensils and pieces of broken furniture. We felt hungry, so we went out to search for food. To our surprise, we found that we were in a large, deserted orchard with trees filled with mangoes, apples, and other fruits. It was a still, quiet place, with a small pagoda nearby.
In the evening, the two women prepared to leave, but I was so weary from the fears of the past years and so despairing that I didn’t want to move anymore. I chose to stay.
The first night alone, I became afraid of my lonely, deserted situation. I left the cave and knelt down on a rock to pray. Through my tears and my loneliness, I asked Father in Heaven to give me the courage and strength to survive this ordeal. A peace and calm came upon me, and I knew that I could remain there.
This is my testimony of prayer. Whenever I have been upset or have struggled with particular challenges, I have prayed. Heavenly Father always hears and answers my prayers. He always listens to his children.
My life as a hermit began. Shaving my head, I disguised myself as an old, poor Buddhist nun. Occasionally, I went to the market down the hill to exchange ripened fruit for things I needed. I learned that the cave was called the Tiger Den—because a tiger used to live there before the villagers drove it out and made the cave into a shelter.
Each day at sunset, I sat on a rock looking out over the Pacific Ocean. I often imagined that on the other side of the water was our Heavenly Father’s temple, near which many of my brothers and sisters were living in happiness. I couldn’t help but weep, remembering the wonderful times I had had with my fellow Saints in the Saigon chapel.
Four years passed by slowly. I pondered and prayed. I wrote songs, poems, and books and tended a garden. No one knew who I was. Two of my children were still in Viet Nam, and I was able to send them letters. But I could not receive any—I didn’t have an address. Besides, I could not visit or receive visits from anyone because I felt I would bring trouble to them.

Christmas is a giving time of year for the young people of the Mt. Pleasant Second Ward, Mt. Pleasant Utah Stake. The youth were involved in service projects that helped emphasize the true spirit of giving.
The Mia Maids of the ward spent weeks collecting pictures of all the children of the ward, which they used to make special Christmas tree decorations. The ornaments were presented to the parents after they were used to decorate the ward Christmas tree.

Twelve-year-old Louisa Bishop gently rocked her baby sister, Emma, in the old, hand-carved rocker. Their mother lay in bed, her face almost as pale as the white pillows. A deadly illness called diphtheria had struck the children of the family, killing three of Louisa’s five siblings. Exhausted from overwork and grief, Louisa’s mother also became sick. Just when it seemed that happiness would never shine on their world again, little Emma had been born. Louisa, now recovered, lovingly cared for her baby sister so their mother could rest and get well. Emma adored her big sister in return.
As the years passed, Emma and Louisa became closer and closer friends. By the time Emma was 11 years old, Louisa had married, and her husband had left to serve a mission in England. Emma was delighted to go to Louisa’s cabin each day to help out.
One day Emma paused in her sweeping and watched quietly as Louisa emptied the butter out of her sparkling glass butter dish and into a jar. “I hope she isn’t doing what I’m afraid she’s doing,” Emma thought.
Louisa stepped to the washbasin and poured in some clean water from the pitcher. Then she carefully washed the butter dish and laid it on a dish towel to dry. Turning to Emma, she handed her the jar of butter. “Now, Emma dear, I need you to take this to the bishop and pay my tithing.”
Emma folded her arms and shook her head. “I won’t do it!” she exclaimed. “You need that butter more than the bishop does.”
Louisa’s mouth drew into a stern line, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Emma,” she softly scolded, “tithing is a law that must be kept. If I am willing to do a big thing like letting my husband serve a mission so far away, then surely I can do a small thing like giving up some butter.”
Emma wasn’t convinced. “But it’s a big thing when you have so little.”
“Don’t worry,” Louisa told her with a smile. “I have faith that the Lord will provide.”
Emma looked closely and saw that her sister’s eyes were glistening with tears. Louisa truly believed what she was saying! Emma took the jar of butter and walked out the door without another word, though she still had doubts.
When she returned to Louisa’s cabin, Emma stopped in the doorway and stared, her mouth wide open. The butter dish was back on the table, and inside was a pound of butter! Emma’s eyes asked the question her lips could not—where had the butter come from?
Louisa smiled. “I told you the Lord would provide,” she said. She took a clean dish from the cupboard and placed the butter in it. Then she stepped again to the washbasin and filled the bowl with clean water. She washed out the beautiful glass butter dish and lid. But instead of setting them on a dish towel to drip dry, she dried them and handed both to Emma.
“I want you to have these,” she said. “And whenever you look at them, I want you to remember that the Lord will always take care of us if we keep His commandments. Remember that, Emma. Tithing comes first.” Emma’s eyes misted with tears as she accepted the butter dish.
All her life Emma remembered the lesson she had learned. Each year as her family gathered on her birthday, she told the story again. After Emma’s death, the butter dish was passed down through the family. And everyone who saw the dish heard the story of how Emma learned to always pay her tithing.

“My brother drove an ox team for a widow and her little girl. The little girl was very sweet and amiable, the mother rather peculiar. He said that she would ask more questions in a day than ten men could answer in a week. He was a born joker and could no more help joking than he could help breathing. He could never tell her anything so absurd or ridiculous but what she believed it. He got so tired of her questions, such as ‘Riley, I wonder how far we have traveled today?’ and ‘I wonder how far we will travel tomorrow?’ ‘I wonder if we will get to water?’ ‘I wonder if we will see any Indians?’ and ‘I wonder what they will do?’ ‘Will they be friendly or savage?’ Her wondering got so monotonous he could hardly stand it.
“At last he had his revenge when we came in sight of Chimney Rock. Anybody who has crossed the plains either by wagon or rail will remember seeing this—a land mark—it is very tall and shaped something like a smokestack and probably centuries old. At the rate we traveled it could be seen several days before we reached it. [When] she began her speculations about the rock, he told her in a most confidential way that as soon as we got to it, he was going to push it down, that he was sick and tired of hearing so much about Chimney Rock, that it had stood there long enough anyway. As soon as he got his hands on it, over it would go. Well, she begged and implored him to let it stand that other emigrants might see it who came after us, but he was obdurate. She then threatened him to tell Brigham, when she got to the Valley. That was always her last resort. Well, he kept her anxiety at fever heat for two days until we were within about a half mile of it. He then gave in to her pleadings and said he would let it stand. She was so delighted that she gave him an extra good dinner and supper that day.”

The next day was fast Sunday. Brother Owen was the first one up to bear his testimony. He explained that he had lost his job and his family was struggling to get by. The night before, he was getting his three daughters ready for bed. They were crying because they were hungry and there was no food. His oldest daughter, still in Primary, explained that if they prayed, Heavenly Father would bring them food.
Brother Owen was overcome by the faith of his daughter. With tears in his eyes, he asked his daughter to pray. He explained that she had said a simple prayer, explaining to Heavenly Father that she and her family were hungry. Then she asked Heavenly Father to bring them food. As the prayer ended, the family was surprised by a knock on the door. They opened the door and found not one, but two large geese sitting on the doorstep. They thanked Heavenly Father for such a quick answer to their prayer. Brother Owen testified that God answers prayers and sat down. Rick and I had tears in our eyes.
As the prayer ended, the family was surprised by a knock on the door.

GEELONG—Anthony George, 17, lives in this seaside town southwest of Melbourne. “I actually got my testimony from attending the temple,” he says. “Before I started going to the temple, I didn’t really have much of a testimony. I just went along with everyone.” Then, a few weeks before his third trip to the temple, Anthony’s Sunday School teacher told the class that everyone needs a testimony. “So I started thinking about that.”
At the Sydney Temple a few weeks later, Anthony was in the font. “I had already been baptized a few times, and they said the baptismal prayer and I was baptized again. I just had this really good feeling like the person was grateful for what I had done for him. I just felt that this was the right thing, and that going to church was the right thing.” Everything just came together “like a jigsaw puzzle the Spirit put together for me.”