Gospel Story Finder

Over four years ago, Esther Ofosu of Aburi, Ghana, decided to attend meetings at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Accra, Ghana. After attending church on Sunday, Esther invited the missionaries to her home to meet her family and to teach them the gospel.
Elder Collins and Elder Morgan began to teach them about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The family began to come to church. Over time, they received testimonies. Even though it was not necessarily always easy to attend church or to do what their friends told them to do, they continued to come because they knew it was true. They felt something different when they came.
The elders invited the Ofosus to do something that would require great faith and might seem impossible at first. Elders Sanders and Morgan told them they must marry to follow the law of chastity in order to receive the blessing of baptism and confirmation. Marriage is no easy task in Ghana. The bride price involves serious money and at the time, the Ofosus had barely enough to provide for themselves and their two young boys. The missionaries told them to save one cedi in a jar every week, planting a seed of faith for the Ofosus to nourish and grow.
After four years of faithful church attendance and saving one cedi each week, the Ofosu family had finally saved up enough to have their traditional marriage. New elders were now serving in the area and met the Ofosu family. “You guys have picked up where they left off,” Samuel Ofosu exclaimed to Elder Olsen and Elder Linger.
On the Sunday following their baptism, Brother and Sister Ofosu shared, “Sometimes it would make me sad and discouraged when I would wake up Sunday morning and know that I wasn’t a member of the Church. But we are now free! We are now members of the Church!”
On March 27, 2022, the Ofosus were confirmed members of the Church. One month after the Ofosus were baptized, Brother Ofosu was given the priesthood and had the opportunity to baptize their oldest son, Kofie.

“Our Primary has foster children, adopted children, and children who live with grandparents or single parents. One Mother’s Day, I made a page for everyone to color and told the kids to pick a woman in their lives who had helped them, someone they looked up to, and to color the card for her. It seemed to go over really well!” —Rachel R.

It was the 1970s, and my father, Horacio Lacayo, was a poor 13-year-old boy. One day his mother was angry with him and told him he would never amount to anything. He was upset and knew he had to do better. He decided he would make some changes.
Not long after that he met two missionaries, and they began telling him about the true gospel of Jesus Christ. Horacio had a great desire to learn more and to be baptized, but when he told his father, his father was angry. He said they already had a religion and he would never allow him to be a member of another church.
So Horacio asked his sister Maria to talk to their father for him. He often listened to her advice. After Horacio told Maria about the Church and explained that he wanted to be baptized, she agreed to help. She took the permission form to their father and told him firmly, “Signing this paper is the best thing you can do for your son.”
His father eventually gave his permission, and Horacio was baptized. But soon his father began to regret his decision and forbade Horacio to go to church. When Horacio begged him to reconsider, his father angrily told him to leave their home and never come back. So Horacio went to live with his aunt.
One night about a year later, Horacio dreamed that his father was very sick and was calling for him. The next morning before going to church, he told his aunt about his dream. She assured him it was just a dream and he should not worry about it.
When he returned home from church, his aunt was upset. She said, “I don’t know how you knew, but your dad has been hurt in an accident. He is calling for you.” When Horacio went to see his father, his father apologized for what he had done and said he would no longer oppose Horacio’s Church activity.
Eventually many of Horacio’s family members and friends joined the Church. Today Horacio, his wife, Aida, and their four sons are active Church members. Two sons are serving missions, and one just returned from a mission.
How was Horacio able to keep his faith as a boy? He never forgot that the Lord was at his side and that He would not let him down. My father never gave up.
I know the Lord will strengthen us in our spiritual battles, just as He did my father, Horacio Lacayo.

I once asked a couple to do this. They predicted that it would be impossible to list more than two or three positive feelings. The list started with just a few obvious items such as “good cook” or “sense of humor,” but it expanded quickly to include characteristics that were present in each other’s behavior but often overlooked. After working at it for some time, both came up with long lists that frankly surprised them.

I urge you young people to develop the habit of always showing respect, courtesy, and deference to your parents and others, especially those who are older than you. My father taught me that every person in and out of the Church has a title, such as Mr., Mrs., Brother, Sister, Bishop, Elder, or President, and that they should be addressed with respect. When I was six years old, my father reinforced this principle when I made the horrid mistake of calling our local grocer by his first name. Upon leaving the grocery store, my father taught me with firmness that I had shown a lack of respect by being so casual to an older person. I have never forgotten that experience, nor have I after 60 years forgotten the name of the grocer. I even remember his first name.

Max’s family visited the temple grounds every week. He always brought his video game with him. Otherwise it would be too boring to just walk around. On the way home, Max’s sisters joked and giggled beside him in the car, but he didn’t hear them. He was too focused on his game.
When they all got home, Max walked inside. He was so proud of himself. He didn’t even have to look up to make it to the living room. So much gaming must have made his brain bigger.
“Max, how did you like the temple?” Mom asked. He didn’t answer.
“Max!” she said a little louder. He jumped. He hadn’t seen her sit down next to him.
“Did you like the temple?” Mom asked again.
“It was nice,” he said. His eyes moved back to the game.
“Did you feel anything special?” she asked.
Max sighed and paused the game. Couldn’t she see he was busy?
“I don’t know, Mom. I guess it was all pretty special,” he said with a grin.
Mom didn’t smile back. “Max, I’m a little worried. It seems like you’re playing that thing more and more.”
“Mom, I’m fine,” Max said. “I’m just having fun. I can stop anytime.”
“Oh, really?” Mom said. Now she was smiling. “How about you stop playing your games for a week? And maybe when we go to the temple you’ll be surprised.”
A whole week! What would he do? He worried about giving up his games, but he loved Mom and thought he could give it a try.
Max sighed. “OK. I’ll do it.”
Mom gave Max a big hug. Max looked at his game and frowned. What had he gotten himself into?
The first two days were the worst because all he could think about was his game. He was so bored that even cleaning sounded good. So he did all his chores, and since he had more time before dinner, he did his sisters’ chores too.
After dinner, Max helped with the dishes. Then he thought of something else to do.
“Hey, Dad, wanna play catch?”
Dad smiled. “I’d love to! It’s been too long. Grab your mitt.”
Max went to bed feeling happy. He usually played video games until he fell asleep, but tonight he didn’t even want to. He thought of what he was going to do tomorrow. It seemed like he had so much more time now.
The week raced by. Max spent time with his family, helped his sisters, read the scriptures, and even started learning how to crochet! He had to admit that using his time differently felt pretty good.
Soon the day of the temple trip came. Max had totally forgotten what Mom had said about a surprise. He was just excited to spend time with his family.
The sun was setting as Max’s family walked around the temple grounds. The sky was red, orange, and yellow. Max felt something special as he watched the light shine on the temple windows. This is what it must feel like to live with Heavenly Father, he thought.
Max knew he was feeling the Spirit. He thought about how serving and spending time with other people made him feel happier than always playing his games did. He felt closer to Heavenly Father too.
Mom walked up beside him. “What are you thinking?”
Max looked up at the Angel Moroni glowing gold in the sunset. “That this is even better than video games.”
Mom wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Surprise,” she said.
Max just smiled.

There’s an 89-year-old lady in my ward. She’s like the granny of the ward, you could say. So everybody calls her Granny.
One day she told me that the monkeys were coming into her garden and eating all her good fruit because her net had fallen down. In our area of South Africa there are monkeys everywhere, and they make a really big impact on the community.
I said, “Oh, Granny, I would love to come and help you. I’m free this Saturday. I have nothing to do anyway, so I’ll come over and help you build a net.”
Granny and Neo
When I arrived on Saturday, she was sitting patiently on her chair waiting for me. We went out to the garden, and I helped her build the net. I don’t know how I did it, because they’re so complicated, but to this day it still stands up right.
Neo with Granny’s monkey net
For me, it didn’t seem like a big deal to help Granny—I wasn’t doing anything that day. But it was a big deal for her. It taught me that service might be the smallest thing for me, but to the other person, it can be the biggest thing.

Other experiences may not be so dramatic but are nevertheless real and heartwarming. I recall an elderly couple whose frame home, situated at the end of a dirt lane, had not seen a coat of paint for too many years. These were neat and tidy people; they were concerned about the appearance of their small house. In a moment of inspiration I called, not upon the elders quorum or upon volunteers to wield paint brushes, but rather, following the welfare handbook, upon the family members who lived in other areas. Four sons-in-law and four daughters took brushes in hand and participated in the project. The paint had been provided by a dealer located in our area. The result was a transformation not only of the house but of the family. The children determined how they might best help mother and dad in their old age. They did so voluntarily and with gladness of heart. A house was painted, a family united, and respect preserved.

I was riding my bike to school as usual, but this day was different! I saw something on the ground. It was black and rectangular, and I realized that it was a wallet. I was tempted to take the money, but I decided to choose the right and return it to the owner. After I gave it to the main office at school, they said they were proud of me. I felt good that I had done the right thing.

When I was a freshman in college, I had a part-time job at a convenience store in a small town. I had the closing shift, which ended at 11:00 p.m. Despite the relative safety of the community, I would frequently get nervous while closing the store all alone.
One night I felt particularly anxious. As I finished cleaning the store and made my way to the cash register to shut it down, a feeling of dread came over me. I did not have any logical reason for being so afraid, but I could not shake my nervousness. I did not want to overreact by calling the police, but I also wanted to be protected if there was any real danger.
Finally, I knelt to pray. I told Heavenly Father that I was afraid and didn’t know what to do. It was the most sincere prayer I had ever given.
As I stood up, I immediately noticed a vehicle pulling up to the fuel pump nearest to the building. To my surprise and relief, it was a police officer. As he pulled out his credit card to fill his patrol car with fuel, I quickly started my final closing responsibilities. I wanted to take advantage of his protective presence and get as much done as I could before he finished at the pump. When he had finished fueling, he made a call on his cell phone and sat in his car as he talked. He was still there when I locked up and got in my car. Both of us pulled away from the convenience store at the same time.
As I drove home, I was amazed at how quickly my prayer had been answered. I humbly thanked Heavenly Father for listening to me. I had been taught that I was a daughter of God, but until that night I had never felt His love for me so near or so tangibly. Words cannot describe the peace I felt in my heart. I know that the Lord will bless me if I have faith and ask for His help.

Re-exploring the scriptures for yourself can be as rewarding as helping someone else discover them for the first time. Todd Rich, who served in the Thailand Bangkok Mission, said, “There were some aspects of faith that I just didn’t understand. I had been pondering on it quite a bit, and in my personal scripture study one day I read Alma 32 [Alma 32]. Beginning in verse 19 [Alma 32:19] was the answer. It helped me understand faith and cleared up my questions.”

Years of practicing the piano paid off for Stephen Beus when he took home first prize in the Gina Bachauer International Artists Piano Competition last September. His performance of Prokofiev’s Third Piano Concerto secured him the first-place award.

Stephen, who grew up in Othello, Washington, had to compete against people from all over the world, including Japan, Russia, and Germany, in this international competition, which is held in Salt Lake City.

However, this was not the first time Stephen has competed in the Bachauer competition. When he was 11, he took part in the junior division and placed fifth. Three years later, in 1996, Stephen competed again in the junior division and took first place. A few years later, Stephen put his piano career on hold for two years to serve a full-time mission in Finland. Read about why he did it in “Playing a Different Tune” from the August 2001 New Era.

There was something more than their love of writing that made the sisters want to publish their work. It was a fear of having to go out in the world to make a living. It had been hard enough on them to leave home for some schooling, but it was unbearable to stay away after that.
Each served as a governess to wealthy families for a short time, but they could not stand the cold indifference shown them. They longed for the warmth and love of their own home and family. At different times each one of them gave a quick notice to either school or employer and returned to the family.

Mabel Ann Morse Hakes, president of the Mesa Ward Relief Society for five years and counselor and then president of the Maricopa Stake Relief Society, was the Mesa representative to the Woman’s Suffrage Convention in Chicago in 1893. When one irate gentleman speaker said that “women have no business in public affairs; they should be home sewing buttons on shirts and darning their husband’s socks,” Ann arose and informed him, “Sir, you will be pleased to know that all of my husband’s buttons were on and the socks darned before I left home.”17

When I was a new missionary serving in Kobe, Japan, I noticed an unusual box hanging in the middle of the Church bulletin board.
“What is that?” I asked my companion.
“It’s a mailbox,” she explained. “Our Sunday School teacher Brother Nakatani* has an eight-year-old daughter named Misaki. She was hospitalized a few months ago with cancer.”
We began writing letters every week. Writing in Japanese was difficult for me. But as I wrote, I thought of what I would say to my own little sister, and somehow the words came easily.
One Sunday, Brother Nakatani pulled us aside and told us that Misaki loved our letters and wanted to meet us. He gave us the address of the hospital and told us when to be there. We stood behind a glass wall and spoke to Misaki through a telephone. She wore a little hat to cover her bald head. She looked frail but laughed and talked with us.
Not long afterward I was transferred to another area. I continued to write to Misaki. Sometimes I worried about my Japanese and wondered if the letters were difficult for her to read.
On the last month of my mission I was transferred to a ward in Misaki’s stake. I ran in to the stake president and immediately asked about Misaki.
“A few months ago we almost lost her,” he said. “But now she can go to school again. Her hair is growing back, and she is doing just fine.”
A few days later my companion and I went to church to help with a stake Primary activity. While we were there I saw Brother Nakatani.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She’s here,” he said. “Do you want to see her?”
I recognized her right away. A hat covered her head, but this time I could see dark tufts of newly grown hair underneath.
“Misaki Chan!” I called.
She looked up and smiled as I knelt beside her.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked.
She looked puzzled. I pointed to my nametag.
Misaki’s face brightened, and she clapped her hands with joy. Then, she pulled out the missionary packet that all Primary children had received and asked for my autograph. At that moment, I knew that every letter I had sent to her had been worth it. Each of my letters, imperfect as they were because of grammar and spelling errors, had brought her happiness.
Whenever I hesitate and fear that my kindness to others will be misunderstood, I remember the letters to Misaki. No matter how small or imperfect, kindness is always worth it.

I have been the recipient of his bearing up others’ burdens. There came a time when he could see the weight of the responsibility of his biography weighing me down. He invited me into his office and with the gentlest and kindest voice said, “How can I help?”
My heart could not resist his overture, and I poured out my feelings of inadequacy, the intimidating nature of the task, and the volume of material to capture, organize, and synthesize. I wanted so desperately to get it right—for him. Our exchange was one of my most precious mortal experiences. I felt like I was at the Pool of Bethesda and the Savior had lifted the drape and reached down to bear me up. President Monson understands the saving power of the Atonement and counts it a privilege to be sent by the Lord to bear up another.

One of Michael’s scenes is in a schoolroom with other boys his age. These boys are extras, called in to dress in costume and fill up the rest of the desks in the background. Erika Anderson, 18, is working as extras’ coordinator for the film, and it is her job to see that the boys are where they should be when they should be. Erika is rather young to have such an important position, but she’s been working in films for several years. Her father, David, is a film distributor and producer, and Erika has had a chance to work in different ways on films since she was 10.

“The first thing I ever did,” says Erika, “was be an extra. Then I worked on a commercial shoot in New York. I was a production assistant. My dad was in charge, and I helped run errands and time the shots.” Erika was recommended for the BYU film job, and Peter Johnson, the producer of the film and director of the Motion Picture Studio has been pleased with her work. “She shows such integrity in her work. She’s always there, always on time. We give her instructions, and she does what we ask. We never have to follow up with her.”

Erika has learned a lot about the importance of doing a good job. “What I’ve known all along is whenever a job is given to me, I have to get it done because someone is expecting me to do it. If you don’t hold your end up, everything can fall apart. I learned that at 13, so I’ve been practicing for a while.”

As extras’ coordinator, Erika describes her job this way, “When there are kids, I’m in charge of the kids. When there are adults, I’m in charge of telling them where to go and getting them all there and getting them committed to do it. It’s really hard, but it’s rewarding to see it all come together.”

Erika’s first thoughts after being told that they needed 250 extras for the scene in the marketplace outside the temple at Bountiful was, “Where am I going to find 250 extras on a Tuesday?”

Erika and her supervisor, Kathy Bessinger, casting director, did find them. They sent the call out to wards in Salt Lake and Orem areas. Then buses were arranged, lunch and dinner ordered for the crowd, and makeup and wardrobe people alerted. On this Tuesday, they had the crowd of extras they needed to shoot the scene.

As a sophomore in high school, I felt like I was starting to understand who I was and who I wanted to be. I felt pretty good about myself. I had friends and participated in several activities. Even in gym—a class I usually dreaded—we were playing volleyball, something I wasn’t half bad at.
One day we were playing an intense game of volleyball. My team was doing OK, but sometimes my teammates would run into each other because no one called for the ball. I tried to encourage them by saying, “Call it!”
One girl on my team got annoyed and told me to stop. I told her I was just trying to help the team, but she still wasn’t happy. And she started finding ways to make me miserable.
She spent the next several months openly criticizing me, saying mean things, and bumping into me in the hallway. My emerging self-esteem quickly took a tumble. And because this young woman didn’t hang out with a good crowd, I was scared of what she and her friends might do to me. I didn’t know what to do except to avoid her when possible.
One night I was in my room alone, crying and praying about what to do. I felt like I should read my scriptures. I opened up to Matthew 5:44: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” That night I prayed for the strength to be kind and that her heart would be softened.
After my prayer, I noticed the Valentine’s Day candies I’d purchased to give to my friends. I immediately knew what to do.
The next day, I went to class with my bag of valentines. I handed a few to my friends and then walked over to the young woman, placed one on her desk, said, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” and walked away. My heart was racing as I sat down at my desk.
She never did say thank you, and we did not become best friends. But the teasing stopped. With the help of the scriptures, my prayer had been answered.
I know that as we strive to love, serve, and pray for our enemies, the Lord will bless us.

Illustrations by Katie McDee
I’m so happy that we’re going to be sealed together as a family!
Me too.
Did you hear that, Lucas? We’re going to be an eternal family!
And it’s our first time ever going inside the temple!
Yes, it’s a special day. Can you feel the peaceful feeling here?
Yes!
That’s because this is the Lord’s house.

While serving in Finland, I learned that my mission president’s wife, Sister Lea Mahoney, was a native of Finland. As a young girl she had grown up in the eastern portion of Finland in a city named Viipuri. As the ravages of war engulfed Finland and other countries during World War II, she and her family left their home, and Viipuri became part of the Soviet Union and was renamed Vyborg. In our zone conferences, Sister Mahoney would tell us of those left behind in Viipuri and of her desire that the gospel be taken to them. Following President Kimball’s challenge, we unitedly prayed that the hearts of the leaders of that nation would be softened so that the gospel could be taken by our missionaries into the Soviet Union.
We would go to the border between Finland and the Soviet Union and see the guard towers and the fences, and we would wonder who those brave young men and young women would be and when they would cross that border to take the gospel to the people there. I must admit, at that time it seemed like an impossible task.
Three years ago, our son Eric received a mission call to serve in the Russia St. Petersburg Mission. In his first letter home, he wrote something like this: “Dear Mom and Dad, I have been assigned to my first city in Russia. Dad, you may have heard of it before. It is called Vyborg, but it was previously a Finnish city named Viipuri.”
Tears came to my eyes as I understood that Eric was in the very city we had prayed about 32 years earlier. Eric found a chapel there and a branch of faithful Saints. He was living and serving in a place that to me as a young man had seemed impossible to enter.
I did not realize those many years ago, as we prayed for the borders to open and the missionaries to go in, that I was praying for our son. Most importantly for you of the rising generation, our son Eric did not realize that he and his companions were the answer to the prayers that had been offered by thousands of faithful Saints so many years ago. You of the rising generation are the fulfillment of prophecy that in our day “the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done” (Joseph Smith, in History of the Church, 4:540).