Gospel Story Finder

A friend of mine once asked me this question, and I asked her where she had gotten this idea. She told me that a man had shown it to her in the Bible. I then remembered John 1:18, where he says that no man can see the Lord. With the help of seminary, I remembered other scriptures in the Bible that say men like Moses and Jacob, being full of the Holy Ghost, saw God. And so I was able to answer my friend confidently and bear my testimony.
Luis M., 17, Mato Grosso, Brazil

There weren’t many Latter-day Saints in the small town of Princeton, New Jersey, where I spent my childhood. Mine was the only Latter-day Saint family in the town when I was growing up. As a result, my friends didn’t know much about the Church. Most of my classmates were Christians, however, and each morning our teacher would have us take turns reading out loud from the Bible—something that isn’t done in public schools in the United States today.
When my turn came, I always chose to read the 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians [1 Cor. 13], which is about charity, the pure love of Christ. I had had a special experience as a little boy that impressed me that the scripture was true and was for me. Every time I read it, I had a strong feeling about my future, including my future family. It was a feeling of kindness and love for them. That seemed like a strange thing for a little boy to feel, so I didn’t tell anyone about it. I didn’t tell my brothers; they probably would have laughed at me. I didn’t tell my parents, either.
When I was 11, I received a special blessing from my uncle, a patriarch, whom I had never met. In the blessing, I was promised the very things I’d hoped for but had kept hidden in my heart—that I would have the home and family I had always dreamed about. The promises in that blessing have since been fulfilled. I have an absolute testimony of priesthood blessings, and I know that those who are worthy to give blessings are inspired by God.

Eric Victor, a priest in the Buhl Second Ward, Filer Idaho Stake, ran to a first-place victory in the regional junior Olympic TAC Cross-country competition. This win earned him a chance to compete in the national meet, where he took ninth out of 200 runners.
But Eric doesn’t run away from responsibilities outside of track. He is seminary class president, an Eagle Scout, and an honor student. He also runs at least four miles a day.

I am so grateful that I was born to a family that knows about the true gospel of Jesus Christ. My eighth birthday fell on Easter Sunday, and I felt great joy to be baptized on the day we celebrate the Resurrection of the Savior. I was a little nervous, but my father was there, and I knew that I could trust him. During the baptism I had a warm, happy feeling in my heart, and then I knew that I could trust Heavenly Father the same way I trust my father.
I am 11 now, and I am looking forward to going to the temple to be baptized for the dead. I know that only through baptism can we return to our Heavenly Father.
Mirjam S., age 11, Switzerland

On 8 October 2024, 31 young single adults from Papua New Guinea arrived in Tonga to attend the Nuku‘alofa Tonga Temple for the first time. The group included two full-time missionaries serving in the Papua New Guinea Lae Mission and most of the others have received or are waiting to receive mission calls.
They were warmly welcomed at the airport with traditional candy leis by former Lae mission leaders, Sitiveni and Kilisitina Fehoko (2016–2019), as well as several returned missionaries who served in Papua New Guinea.
After receiving their own endowments, the young adults lovingly performed proxy baptisms, initiatory, and endowments for their grandparents and other ancestors. They finished their temple service with a final sealing session, linking and uniting generations with eternal sealing power.
The young single adults had researched family names in anticipation of doing temple work for their deceased relatives.
In the evenings, they were met by Elder Sione Tuione, an Area Seventy as well as former mission leaders in New Guinea including Isileli and Milika Fatani, (Papua New Guinea Lae Mission 2019–2022), Mosese and Akanesi Naeata (Papua New Guinea Port Moresby Mission 1997–2000), and the Fehokos who offered powerful messages of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and eternal families.
The Fatanis and Fehokos provided delicious Tongan feasts and local wards hosted dances each evening, which the young adults loved.
The young adults also enjoyed an afternoon of sightseeing and shopping. Several of them received dental care at the Church’s dental clinic at Liahona High School.

Whenever it is our ward’s turn to clean the ward meetinghouse, I always go with my dad. Usually we are the only ones there. As soon as I finish, I have a good feeling inside. I know that if you help out when you get the chance, you will be blessed.

Take responsibility for mistakes. I used to argue with my brother or attack his beliefs. When I was finally mature enough to realize I was in the wrong, I apologized, and my relationship with my brother has never been better. You never need to apologize for your beliefs, just for actions that are not in keeping with the gospel.

“When I was six years old, my parents had me start taking piano lessons. My father never said if you go on a mission, but always reminded me that when I became a missionary, I could serve the Saints well if I could accompany their singing and thus contribute to their music. As I grew older, I became the stake organist and played for stake meetings and activities. When I went on my mission, I was able to accompany the Saints on the piano whenever it was necessary. Even today, when we meet in our Quorum meeting or in the temple, I occasionally accompany the Brethren as they sing. I encourage boys as well as girls to learn to play the piano.

When she was eight, Darla was baptized by Jordan and confirmed by her dad. “I felt good,” she recalls. “I felt clean.” At the baptism, Brother Miles demonstrated how not to pray for inspiration, using a telephone as a prop. He picked up the receiver. “Hello. Good-bye,” he said and hung up. He explained that it isn’t enough to ask for help. We must also listen for the answer.

In addition to his serious and studious nature, there was a lighter side to President Smith’s personality. He had a ready sense of humor that he exercised frequently and spontaneously.

For example, on one occasion President Smith returned from a conference assignment in California with his lunch sack filled with olives he had picked. Delighted with his treasure, and always eager to share, he asked one of his brethren if he had ever “tasted an olive right off the tree.” His unsuspecting victim had not, so he took a healthy bite into one of the fresh olives. This proved to be a rather bitter experience, and as the brother’s face puckered up, President Smith asked innocently, “What’s the matter? Did you get a bad one? Here, you had better try another one.”

My first brush with the priesthood was when I was baptized. I was baptized in an irrigation canal in the little town of Oakley, Idaho. I was with my friends on the bank of that irrigation canal. We had on our bib swimming suits, which consisted of bib overalls with the legs cut out so you wouldn’t sink and holes cut in the pockets. We had never seen a swimming suit made out of knit or of other fabric. My father came out from the First Ward meetinghouse with his counselors. He was carrying a chair, and he put the chair on the side of the irrigation ditch. My father said, “David, come on over here; we’re going to baptize you.”
I dove in the canal and swam over to the other side, shivering. It was in September and a little cold, and young boys get the shivers, you know, when you have only bib overalls on. My father got down into the canal. As I remember, he didn’t take his shoes off or change anything but was just in his regular clothes. He showed me how to hold my hands, and then he baptized me. After I came up out of the water, we both crawled up on the bank of the canal. I sat in the chair, and they put their hands on my head and confirmed me a member of the Church. After that I dove in the canal and went over on the other side and joined my friends.
This was my first experience, really, with the priesthood.

Thank you for the missionary clown story. For many years I’ve wanted to be a “home and community” clown. My family and friends have thought me off upstairs. But after reading that article I am going to follow through and become a clown. Maybe I too can become a missionary clown.
Avon BrooksMesa, Arizona

Maybe that’s because she knows she receives Heavenly Father’s help. When asked if she’s gotten answers to prayer, she nods excitedly. “Yes, because I’ve always wanted to play the flute and now I’m learning the pan flute, and I’ve always wanted a cat.” The Schlatters’ new pet is a white cat named Filou.

My great-grandparents, Orla and Roger, died in their 20s, leaving my grandfather and his brother in the care of Roger’s family. After Orla’s death, her father, Robert, died of appendicitis. A short time later, her mother fell, cracked her skull, and suffered several strokes, becoming bedridden. Orla’s oldest sisters, Thelma and Ena, then carried the full burden of supporting the family—a difficult task for two young, unmarried women in the late 1920s.

The big shiny coin sparkled in the sunlight. Alvin twisted the coin this way and that, just to see the way the sun shone off it. A real silver dollar!

Alvin had worked almost the whole day at his neighbor’s farm to earn that coin. His overalls were dirty, and he was hot and sweaty. But it was worth it. He couldn’t wait to show Mother his coin. He was going to add it to his box of important stuff.

The creaky screen door slammed shut behind him as he ran inside. He found Mother sitting in the rocking chair, folding a pile of clothes from the clothesline.

“Look what Mr. Jackson gave me for working for him today.” He held up the big coin for her to see. “A whole silver dollar!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Alvin! You must have worked hard.”

“I sure did!” said Alvin. “I’m going to keep this dollar forever.” He rubbed the coin with his shirt to get off any smudges.

“Well,” said Mother, “make sure to pay your tithing on what you earned.” She added another shirt to the stack. “That might mean you have to get smaller coins in exchange for your dollar.”

Alvin looked down at his beautiful coin. He didn’t want a bunch of little coins instead of his first silver dollar. “But … I just want to keep it!” Tears pricked his eyes, and he ran out of the kitchen and down the porch steps.

He stomped through the high grass. “I don’t have to pay tithing,” he muttered to himself. He picked up a stick and swung it back and forth across the tall, dry weeds.

Suddenly Alvin stopped in his tracks. He knew tithing was important. He wanted to give tithing. But how? He didn’t have any other coins. All he had was his one silver dollar. How could he pay the 10 cents for his tithing?

Alvin sighed. He would just have to give up his coin. It was the right thing to do.

Alvin kept walking. Soon he heard talking and singing coming from near the bank of the river. He put up his hand to block his eyes from the setting sun. A family was camped by the river. He had met them before. Sometimes they traded things with his mother.

He looked closer. The dad and grandpa had their fishing poles out. Then Alvin had an idea. He took his stick and started digging in the wet dirt along the riverbank. He dug up 11 worms and walked toward the camp by the river.

The men smiled and waved at Alvin.

“Hi,” said Alvin. “Do you need any more worms?”

“We sure do,” said the grandpa. He pulled his empty fishing hook out of the water. “We just ran out.”

Alvin held out the 11 squirming worms. “Would you like some?”

“How much?” asked the dad. He reached in his pocket to get some coins.

“Just a penny each,” said Alvin.

“Well, that’s a bargain.” The man counted out 11 pennies. “You stopped by just in time for us to catch our dinner.”

“Thank you!” said Alvin as he collected his pennies. “Good luck with the fish!”

Alvin hurried back home and showed Mother his coins. “Now I have enough money to pay tithing for my silver dollar and for the money I earned from selling the worms!”

Alvin was grateful he got to keep his coin. But he was also proud of himself for deciding to pay his tithing, no matter what.

May I share with you an example of Brother Clayton M. Christensen, a member of the Church who is a professor at Harvard University.

When he was 16 years old, Brother Christensen decided that he would not play sports on Sunday. Years later, when he attended Oxford University in England, he played center on the basketball team. That year they had an undefeated season and went to the championship tournament.

They won their games fairly easily in the tournament, making it to the finals. Then Brother Christensen looked at the schedule and saw that the final game was on a Sunday. He went to his coach with his dilemma. His coach told Brother Christensen he expected him to play in the game.

Brother Christensen went to his hotel room. He knelt down. He asked his Heavenly Father if it would be all right, just this once, if he played that game on Sunday. He said that before he had finished praying, he received the answer: “Clayton, what are you even asking me for? You know the answer.”

He went to his coach, telling him how sorry he was that he wouldn’t be playing in the final game. Then he went to his Sunday meetings.

Brother Christensen learned that it is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time.

Project Sock Box
People without homes get very cold in the winter! We decided to collect warm socks for homeless people in our area. The young men and young women helped, and soon our sock box was overflowing with hundreds of socks for the homeless!
Alberta, Canada

A 17-year-old girl, going through the trauma of having only one parent in the home as well as the normal problems of adolescence, was called to be president of her Laurel class. Her response to this responsibility was, “I have never been so excited and thrilled about the Church in my life. I love it with all my heart and love every minute I have the privilege of serving.” Then she made another statement equally impressive. She said, “Since having received this call and having felt the responsibility, I have wanted to purify and refine my life so that I would be worthy of the call.”

In the vicinity where I lived and served, we operated a poultry project. Most of the time it was an efficiently operated welfare project, supplying to the storehouse thousands of dozens of fresh eggs and hundreds of pounds of dressed poultry. On a few occasions, however, the experience of being volunteer city farmers provided not only blisters on the hands, but frustration of heart and mind. For instance, I shall ever remember the time we gathered together the teenaged Aaronic Priesthood young men to really give the poultry project a spring cleaning. Our enthusiastic and energetic throng gathered at the project and in a speedy fashion uprooted, gathered, and burned large quantities of weeds and debris. By the light of the glowing bonfires we ate hot dogs and congratulated ourselves on a job well done. The project was now neat and tidy. However, there was just one disastrous problem. The noise and the fires had so disturbed the fragile and temperamental population of several thousand laying hens that most of them went into a sudden molt and ceased laying. Thereafter we tolerated a few weeds, that we might produce more eggs.

A wise first step is to guide each deacon to a spiritual awareness of the sacredness of his ordained calling. In one ward, this lesson was effectively taught pertaining to the collection of fast offerings.

On fast day, the ward members were visited by deacons and teachers so that each family could make a contribution. The deacons were a bit disgruntled, having to arise earlier than usual to fulfill this assignment.

The inspiration came for the bishopric to take a busload of the deacons and teachers to Welfare Square here in Salt Lake City. Here they saw needy children receiving new shoes and other items of clothing. Here they witnessed empty baskets being filled with groceries. There was no money exchanged. One brief comment was made: “Young men, this is what the money you collect on fast day provides—even food, clothing, and shelter.” The Aaronic Priesthood young men smiled more, stepped higher, and served with a willing mind in the filling of their assignments.