Gospel Story Finder

Nearly a hundred young women and men in the Toa Baja Puerto Rico District sang as they pulled their handcarts up and over the steep hills of Monagas Park in the morning sunshine one day in March. Reenacting the trek of the Latter-day Saint handcart pioneers, the youth sang first in Spanish—“Como os he amado, amad a otros”—and then in English—“As I have loved you, love one another” (Hymns, number 308).
Stopping along the way in small groups at predetermined spots, the youth read of the experiences of Latter-day Saint pioneers. Several were weeping by the time they finished. The group moved on, singing, “¡Grande eres tú!”—“How great thou art!” (Hymns, number 86).
“We want our seminary students to realize that our sacrifices, no matter how great, are little compared to those of the pioneers,” says Alberto Zayas, associate CES director for the Caribbean. “Seminary helps our youth develop testimonies, so every branch on this island has a class, and two universities each have a Latter-day Saint Student Association.”

Twelve years ago, in company with the mission president from Hong Kong, it was my opportunity to initiate the work in the Philippines. On April 28, 1961, we held a meeting that will never be forgotten by those of us who were present. We had no hall then in which to meet. We made a request of the United States Embassy for permission to meet on the beautiful porch of the marble memorial in the American military cemetery at Fort McKinley on the outskirts of Manila. We convened at 6:30 in the morning. In that hallowed and sacred place, where are remembered the tragedies of war, we commenced the work of teaching the gospel of peace.
We called upon the only native Filipino member we had been able to locate. He recounted a story which I have never forgotten.
When he was a boy he found in a garbage can an old tattered copy of the Reader’s Digest. It contained a condensation of a book giving the story of the Mormon people. It spoke of Joseph Smith and described him as a prophet. The word prophet did something to that boy. Could there actually be a prophet upon the earth? he wondered. The magazine was lost, but concern over the presence of a living prophet never left him during the long, dark years of war and oppression when the Philippines were occupied. Finally the forces of liberation came, and with them the reopening of Clark Air Base. David Lagman found employment there. His supervisor, he learned, was a Mormon, an Air Force officer. He wanted to ask him if he believed in a prophet, but was afraid to do so. Finally, after much inner turmoil, he mustered the courage to inquire.
“Are you a Mormon, sir?” the young man asked. “Yes, I am,” was the forthright reply. “Do you believe in a prophet, do you have a prophet in your church?” came the anxious question.
“We do have a prophet, a living prophet, who presides in this church and who teaches the will of the Lord.”
David asked the officer to tell him more, and out of that teaching came his baptism. He was the first native elder ordained in the Philippines and today serves as president of the Northern Luzon District of the Church, now knowing for himself that there is indeed a living prophet on the earth.

I recall an experience which I had two years ago, bearing witness to my soul of the reality of his death, of his crucifixion, and his resurrection, that I shall never forget. I bear it to you tonight, to you, young boys and girls; not with a spirit to glory over it, but with a grateful heart and with thanksgiving in my soul. I know that he lives, and I know that through him men must find their salvation, and that we cannot ignore this blessed offering that he has given us as the means of our spiritual growth to prepare us to come to him and be justified.

Away on the Fort Peck Reservation where I was doing missionary work with some of our brethren, laboring among the Indians, seeking the Lord for light to decide certain matters pertaining to our work there, and receiving a witness from him that we were doing things according to his will, I found myself one evening in the dreams of the night in that sacred building, the temple. After a season of prayer and rejoicing I was informed that I should have the privilege of entering into one of those rooms, to meet a glorious Personage, and, as I entered the door, I saw, seated on a raised platform, the most glorious Being my eyes have ever beheld or that I ever conceived existed in all the eternal worlds. As I approached to be introduced, he arose and stepped towards me with extended arms, and he smiled as he softly spoke my name. If I shall live to be a million years old, I shall never forget that smile. He took me into his arms and kissed me, pressed me to his bosom, and blessed me, until the marrow of my bones seemed to melt! When he had finished, I fell at his feet, and, as I bathed them with my tears and kisses, I saw the prints of the nails in the feet of the Redeemer of the world. The feeling that I had in the presence of him who hath all things in his hands, to have his love, his affection, and his blessing was such that if I can receive that of which I had but a foretaste, I would give all that I am, all that I ever hope to be, to feel what I then felt!

(32) The mother of Ben Carson turns his life around.

by Kathryn S. Packer
When you see a handicapped person on the street, what do you do?
Do you look away to avoid embarrassing them?
Do you smile and say hello?
These were some of the questions presented to the youth of the Silver Spring Maryland Stake, and a whole youth conference was devoted to answering them.
The theme of the conference was “Reach Out and Help Someone,” and it focused on sensitivity and awareness of others’ needs. It was divided into two parts.
To start things out, the youth organized a party at the stake center for 31 residents of three nearby nursing homes. The youth planned carnival games, displayed and shared their hobbies, put on a talent show, and had a sing-along complete with kazoos. A roving photographer was on hand with an instant camera, providing immediate mementos for the guests.
Next on the youth conference agenda were handicapped awareness workshops. By imagining they had some of the handicaps themselves, the youth found out what it’s like to move around the stake center in a wheelchair, and how difficult it is to count money, pour milk, and eat, without the use of their eyes.
And there were workshops based on working with people who have less obvious handicaps, such as low self-esteem, depression, or suicidal tendencies.
The final awareness activity of the conference was a bit of a shock to most of the youth. As they were seated for a beautiful, all-you-can-eat brunch, blindfolds and ropes were distributed. The teens were divided into partners to help each other: one was blindfolded, the other had his “good” arm tied to his side. They were then invited to go to the buffet and help themselves.
Cary Shelton of the College Park Ward summed up, “This youth conference showed me not only that each of us has handicaps, but that we each have strengths too.”

Supported by one elbow, tired and weak,
Signs of sickness written on his face;
Gazing on the valley, he tried to speak,
And with much effort said, “This is the place.”
With unbelieving eyes the Saints looked down
And thought of far-off, beautiful Nauvoo.
The picture of their pleasant, thriving town
Was far beyond compare with this sad view.
Surely Zion cannot be built here!
They looked once more, their eyes filled with despair.
“His words are born in fever,” said one near.
“He sees a land that is not really there.”
He spoke more close to truth than they could see;
For Brigham had a vision he held dear
Of a land not there but soon to be;
Yes, for a season Zion would dwell here.

We were to have heard at this time from Elder LeGrand Richards. He is not able to be with us. We talked with him on the telephone just prior to this meeting. He had hoped that he might be here to give, as it were, his valedictory testimony of this great and sacred work, which has been so much a part of his life during the ninety-six years that he has lived. As most of you know, he recently underwent very serious surgery which has had a traumatic effect upon his health. I am sure that each of you here today is disappointed and will miss his great voice in speaking out in defense of the restored gospel and in testimony of Him who was the Restorer.

My heart leapt on 7 November 1981 as I received my mission call to serve in the Chile Concepción Mission. When I opened that letter, my world froze in place, and all I could think of was my mission.
I had almost everything ready. Again and again I reviewed the list of things I needed. I made a little mark on the list as I put each item in my suitcase. But even with my careful planning, I completely forgot one essential thing.
It wasn’t until two hours before I was to depart that I realized I needed some money to travel from my home in Quilpué to the Missionary Training Center in Santiago, Chile, which was about two hours away. I had already used all my savings and the funds my parents had given me.
My bishop wasn’t home when I ran to see if he could lend me the money. I didn’t need very much, but at that moment it seemed like a fortune.
I knelt down in my room in anguish and told my Heavenly Father what was happening, although I knew He already knew. When I got up from my knees, I was confident that He was going to help me solve my problem. I was a faithful tithe payer, and I knew the Lord would open the windows of heaven and pour out blessings upon me until there was no room to receive them (see Mal. 3:10).
My mother called to me and asked me to go through my closet and decide which things I wanted to leave there and which my sister could use. While I was sorting my clothes, I found a little purse so small it fit in the palm of my hand. I remembered that I had received it many years ago and that in it I had hidden my first savings.
I opened it and—what a blessing! Tucked neatly inside was some money I had put there many years earlier. It would be enough to pay for two fares to Santiago. I invited my father, who is not a member of the Church, to accompany me to the Missionary Training Center.
The years have passed, but I still remember this answer to my prayer. It has helped me remember how great are the power and mercy of our Father in Heaven.

President Henry B. Eyring
While serving in New Mexico, USA, and in New England, USA, Henry B. Eyring sees God’s hand in building His kingdom.

Peter Burt was born in 1949 in Napier, New Zealand, and grew up in the nearby city of Gisborne. He was only 14—a student at Lytton High School—when his family suffered a devastating loss: Peter’s father died from a fall while painting their family home.
“Losing my dad at such an early age was absolutely tragic,” he recalls. What made the experience more heartbreaking is that, growing up atheist, he had no concept of an afterlife. Years later, Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s (1926–2004) general conference messages helped Peter understand how profound his grief was at the time. “A resurrection-less view of life produces only proximate hope.”1
With no knowledge of God or His plan, Peter remembers, “My philosophy of life was, eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Thankfully, I now know better—infinitely better!”

During COVID, with the uncertainty of the school year, I had to trust that the Lord knows what is best for everyone. My school actually got to return to campus, which was the best for me, because I’m not a great off-site learner.

“I grew up in a town outside Stockholm, Sweden. My mother was single,” wrote Britt-Marie. “I was almost 13 the year my mother and I were baptized. When Mom attended Relief Society night meetings, she brought me along so I wouldn’t be at home alone. When I finally turned 18, I knew and loved every sister.”

“Each of us has his own way of remembering. At Christmas time I take delight in visiting the widows and widowers from the ward where I served as bishop. There were 87 then—just nine today. On such visits, I never know what to expect; but this I do know: visits like these provide for me the Christmas spirit, which is, in reality, the Spirit of Christ” (Thomas S. Monson, Ensign, May 1981, 48).

In my English class we were having a debate about evolution. We easily wandered into the topic of religion. Some students started to ask what members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe. My teacher could not answer the questions.
So he said, “Aleesha, why don’t you tell us what you believe?” I knew that I could not turn this opportunity down. I stood up and told the class some of our basic beliefs. They asked a few questions, which I was able to answer. After class, one girl came up to me and asked me how to learn more. I gave her a Book of Mormon the next day.
The gospel has never made so much sense to me. Being able to share my beliefs with my peers at school strengthened my testimony so much.

She is eight-year-old Dorinelis Francisca, who was born in a home where the principles of the gospel are lived.
Neither Dorinelis nor her parents imagined the conditions of the world when they set the goal that she would be baptized on Saturday, May 16, 2020, after she turned eight.
“We set the date before the pandemic, but the work can’t be stopped even during a pandemic. We are very happy and grateful, and she is even happier because she knows how important baptism is,” says her father, Victor Cepeda, who baptized her.
“I know that this work is true, it is a work of miracles and, if we are loyal and faithful in keeping the commandments, God will not leave us alone in moments of difficulty,” said Dorinelis excitedly.

President Boyd K. Packer
President Packer invites a young man’s father to ordain his son an elder.

Effective teaching also happens outside of a formal or direct teaching setting. Indirect teaching occurs when you teach without using words. In fact, you might not even be present when the “teaching” occurs! For example, I hang pictures that represent characteristics I would like my children to think about, such as a picture of pioneers traveling in a snowstorm to represent not giving up when things get tough. We also have 29 individual photographs of our grandchildren along the mantle in our living room at home. Although there are no written words with these pictures, this visual presentation gets a lot of comments. People just can’t miss them. The pictures send the message that our grandchildren are an important part of our family.

Immersing ourselves regularly in the truths of the Book of Mormon can be a life-changing experience. One of our missionary granddaughters, Sister Olivia Nelson, promised an investigator that if he would read the Book of Mormon daily, his test scores on his university exams would improve. He did, and they did.

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.

Before I came on a mission, I struggled to know whether I should go. Eventually I decided to ask Heavenly Father, who truly knows everything we go through and knows if we need to serve a mission. Through prayer I received a confirmation that I needed to go. I know that Heavenly Father answers prayers. Go to Him with your questions, and He will answer you according to your faith and His will and timing.
Sister Terpend, 21, Jamaica Kingston Mission