Gospel Story Finder

For instance, Olalekan Babatunde from Osun, Nigeria, practices law. His stake participated in early testing for Children and Youth. When he heard that it had inspired one young man in his ward to become a lawyer, Olalekan reached out to him to offer support. Olalekan is helping him learn what to do to prepare for law school.

The first Latter-day Saint missionaries in New Zealand arrived in Auckland in October 1854 from Australia. The first 10 converts in New Zealand were baptized five months later.

One Saturday afternoon in September 1985, our family was enjoying a restful afternoon under the shade of a tree after a late lunch at our new home in Gigiri, Nairobi. We had moved there earlier that year and found that the garden needed much work. We did not have the money to hire a professional landscaping contractor, and so we made it a family project to do the work ourselves. As we had done on most Saturdays for several months, we spent much of the morning and early afternoon digging up the lawn to level it in preparation for planting new grass and flowers.
It was in this situation that, without prior appointment, two gentlemen walked in through the gate. One was an extended family member whom we knew well. He introduced his companion as an engineer who had recently returned from the US where he had gone to study.
That engineer and his family became new family friends. We learned that he was a member of a church which was not yet established in Kenya at that time. A short while later, Sister Sitati and I felt the desire to check on him after visiting a relative who lived in his neighborhood. Soon after we arrived at his home, the senior couple missionary—who later baptized us into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—walked in. After answering our curious questions, the couple invited us to attend church in their home the following Sunday. We accepted the invitation. The rest is history—we have attended church every Sunday since then.
Out of the normal and natural interactions of our lives, our family came to learn about and join the Church.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit at the back of a chapel during a sharing time session of Primary and watch a lively group of youngsters keep a music teacher very busy. For a final song the director asked the children to sing “I Am a Child of God.” They quieted down, and for the first song of the entire session the voices unified in quality instead of quantity. The words rang throughout the chapel with an angel-like resonance:
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday.
[Hymns, 1985, no. 301]
These pleading words sank deep into my heart that day and stirred my soul. What a great burden of responsibility the Lord has placed upon us as parents: to take these children and lead them in the ways of holiness, to guide them through the perils of mortality, and to walk beside them on the straight and narrow path which leads to eternity. Yes, the responsibility is ours to teach them all they must do so that someday, as the mortal is changed to immortal, they will be prepared to return to the presence of the Father and dwell with him and their Elder Brother, Jesus Christ.
As I sat there in the back of the chapel, I silently asked myself, “Am I doing all the things which I must do? Can my wife and daughter walk alongside me with confidence that I will lead them into the celestial kingdom? ‘Lead me, guide me, walk beside me. …’” Stop. Stop for one minute and ask the same question of yourself: “Can my spouse and children walk alongside me with confidence that I will lead them into the celestial kingdom?” The Savior said, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God” (Matt. 6:33).

One day my grandma was cleaning the kitchen. She asked me to empty the dishwasher, which I did. Then she thanked me and said I was done. I noticed that my grandma was still washing a few dishes. I offered to dry them and put them away. She was very grateful. I felt much better after helping my grandma clean the rest of the kitchen.

I’m so grateful that I know the truth. I’m also thankful for the Tambuli (English), which is an interesting magazine.
Because being a member of the Church is so wonderful, I share my gospel knowledge using the magazine. I know this is a way people can know about the Church and can apply its principles in their lives. One of my best friends in school wanted to look at the magazine, and now she enjoys reading it from cover to cover.
Thank you for helping me know the truth. I know that I am truly a child of God and that I’m a very blessed young woman.
Sally H. ValencianoMilaor Ward, Naga Philippines Stake

In American history, one famous couple was John and Abigail Adams. Because John was involved in the politics of a newly formed country, sometimes requiring him to live abroad, they were often separated for months and even years at a time. Abigail remained at home in charge of their farm and wrote beautiful letters of support to her husband.

Shelly loved to skip. She skipped to the park. She skipped to school and home from school. She skipped next door to visit Sister Jones. She skipped so much that her friends and family called her “Skipper.”
One day, though, she trudged home from school. She didn’t feel like skipping. Her legs felt heavy as she climbed the porch steps and opened the front door. She found Mother sitting at the kitchen table, paying bills.
“Hi, Skipper! How was school today?” Mother asked, pausing to lick an envelope.
Shelly didn’t say anything. She felt tears pressing her eyes. Oh, no, she thought, I’m going to cry again.
Mother licked some stamps and pressed them on the envelopes. Then she turned to Shelly. “Skipper, what’s wrong?”
As Mother hugged her, Shelly felt tears roll down her cheeks. “Oh, Mom! Some of the kids at school say I’m stupid! Am I?”
Mother hugged Shelly tighter. “No, Skipper! You’re not stupid.”
Shelly leaned back and looked at Mother. Mother had a way of looking into Shelly’s eyes that made her feel understood. She knew that Mother loved her. “Then why is everything so hard for me? I’m always the last one finished with math or spelling, and I still get more wrong than everybody else.” Mother handed her a tissue. Shelly sniffed. “I really try, Mom! I really try! And you help me study every night. So why is it so hard for me?”
Mother pulled Shelly close again and answered her with a question. “Skipper, what is the greatest talent anyone can have?”
Shelly thought. She remembered how well her teenage brothers played their violins. They played with the high school orchestra. “Is it to play the violin?”
“No,” said Mother. “Playing the violin is not the greatest talent. Think again.”
Shelly thought about how well Dad did woodworking. Shelly liked to watch him as he built beautiful furniture. “Is it to build things with wood?” she asked.
Mother shook her head. “No, woodworking is not the greatest talent. Think again.”
Then Shelly remembered how she loved to have Mother sing Primary songs to her at bedtime.
Sometimes, if Shelly wasn’t too tired after studying, they sang together. Mother led the singing in Primary. Shelly liked learning the new songs with her mother. “Is singing the greatest talent anyone can have?” Shelly asked.
“No, Shelly. Talent in music is a wonderful talent, but it isn’t the greatest talent.”
Shelly thought about her friend Aubree. Aubree usually finished her math and spelling before anyone else in the class. Aubree didn’t have to study after school, so she took dancing lessons several afternoons a week. She could do ballet and tap dance. On Saturdays, Shelly liked to visit Aubree. Aubree would let Shelly wear one of her beautiful costumes and would teach her some dancing steps.
“Is the greatest talent dancing?” Shelly asked.
“No, Shelly, it isn’t dancing. Think very hard.”
Shelly thought. Then she remembered how hard it was for her to read. Sometimes the letters seemed to flip over or even disappear. “Oh, Mom,” she gasped, “it isn’t reading, is it?”
Mother gave her a squeeze. “No, Skipper, it isn’t reading. Dancing, singing, woodworking, reading, and playing instruments are all great talents, but they aren’t anything compared to the best talent. And, Skipper, you have the best talent.”
Shelly was surprised. “No, Mom. I don’t do anything really well.”
“Oh yes you do, Skipper. You try to make people happy. You stop to visit Sister Jones on your way home from school. She’s lonely living alone, and you cheer her up. She’s often told me how much she looks forward to your visits.”
Shelly smiled. She liked Sister Jones. Sometimes she played her harp for Shelly. Sister Jones even said that she’d teach Shelly to play one when Shelly’s arms grew a little longer.
Mother gave Shelly another squeeze. “And, Skipper, when our doorbell rings, you’re the first one there. You greet everyone with a smile. Even when my friends come, you want them to leave with a cookie, and you always tell them to come again. That makes them very happy.”
Mother is right, Shelly thought. I do like to make people happy.
“Skipper,” Mother said, “your talent is the best talent of all. Can you guess what it is now?”
Shelly still shook her head.
“Skipper, your talent is love. You know how to love others, and that is the best talent. That’s what Jesus taught. All those other talents—singing, dancing, woodworking, playing instruments, even reading—don’t mean very much if you don’t know how to love.”
Shelly thought some more and nodded her head. She gave her mother a kiss and a big hug. Then she skipped down the hallway to change into her play clothes.
The next day just before the bell rang at the end of school, a boy in Shelly’s class started teasing her again. “Shelly, you’re so dumb!” he said. “You read slower than my pet turtle walks.”
Shelly smiled at him. “I might not be as smart as you,” she answered, “but I can love you anyway. Jesus said that loving is the best thing of all, and that means I’m not so dumb.”
Then Shelly put her math and spelling books in her book bag and skipped all the way home.

Eight weeks ago Elder William Walker of the Seventy and I held a zone conference in Naha for 44 missionaries on the island of Okinawa. President Mills of the Japan Fukuoka Mission was prevented from attending by an approaching ferocious typhoon. The young zone leaders conducted that meeting with as much inspiration and dignity as their mission president might have done. We left the next morning in gale-force winds, content to leave the missionaries in their care.

I’m the only member of the Church in my family, and I show them how I love the Church by attending every Church activity we have. I share with them how the Church and the members help and encourage me to stand strong. I know that it’s worth it to show your good example and how happy you are as a person because you have the gospel in your life. You can feel that happiness when you obey what the Lord wants you to do, and He will bless you and also your whole family.
Lyca E., 21, Philippines

A few weeks ago, I asked my 86-year-old mother to join me in working on the virtue value. It has been a sweet blessing for both of us. As we’ve worked on the value experiences, she’s shared with me her decision as a young woman in the 1930s to strive to live more virtuously. We’ve studied scriptures on virtue, “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” and even For the Strength of Youth—together. We’ve independently written in our journals the blessings we’ve received as we have strived to live a virtuous life. One key blessing we both identified was being worthy to go to the temple. Young women, this is your next step.

One of the trials that our family endured was when my oldest brother got sick and, after a while, died. It was really hard for us at first, but our family was able to overcome that trial. Because our family was sealed in the temple, we know that we will be with my brother again and with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ when the right time comes.
I know that this trial was one of the ways the Lord prepared us for other trials—to help us become stronger. Everyone has trials to endure, and our Heavenly Father knows we can overcome them. So we shouldn’t lose hope.
Carmila R., age 18, Southern Tagalog, Philippines

President Dickie says that Church members in Beira, which is about halfway up the coast of Mozambique, have made sacrifices to attend the temple. Last year, they began flying to the Durban South Africa Temple but before then, members would travel to the Johannesburg temple on bus trips that took 36–40 hours.
“We would leave early Monday morning and arrive in Johannesburg early Wednesday morning,” says President Dickie. “We would worship in the temple for two days, then depart again for Beira on Friday morning and arrive at home on Saturday night.”
Many members believe that this sacrifice helped to prepare them for a temple to be built in their area. “I was just thinking about all the efforts the members had made; those long hours on the road to reach Johannesburg temple,” says Brother Paulino. “Now the news that we will have it nearby gave us the sense that the Lord knows our efforts. He knows that we really need those temple blessings.”

“The month of December in my family represents unity. We love to live by following the example of Christ, and we always try to remind ourselves of the acts that He did for us and the many blessings that we have received. In our living room we have a picture of the Savior, surrounded by about 20 red hearts.
“When we get ready to open our presents at midnight, I look first at my family and then at the picture of Christ. I am proud to have His image in that room, and I am proud to be able to say to myself that what He wanted so much for my family is happening.
“I am planning on serving a full-time mission. These moments shared at Christmas give me even more desire to share the gospel with other people. With the gospel, Christmas has a whole different feeling. With the gospel, everything about Christmas is centered on Christ and on the family, and that brings me an even greater comfort.”
Myrium G., Paris, France

Thank you so much for printing the article “Is It True?” (Feb. 1999). I, too, have often wondered if the Book of Mormon is true, and I’m also a good member of the Church. This article touched me with my own knowledge of not asking for what I already know. Testimonies are important, but if we just look instead of continually asking, I think we will find that we know. Again, thank you for the inspired magazine you publish.
Jane BitnerGrantsville, Utah

Twelve-year-old Paul Packer, who also lives in Sugar City, had planned a bike ride to the river while his parents were shopping but something interfered. “If my ride hadn’t been delayed,” he said, “I wouldn’t have gotten out of there. My two sisters would have gone with the neighbors without me.”
One month later Steven, Douglas, Kevin, Kimball, and Paul went back to see their homes. (see photographs)—

Dear brothers and sisters, I join with you in expressing my love and sustaining support to President Eyring and his family. President Hinckley extended this call to serve in the Quorum of the Twelve late Thursday afternoon. I cannot possibly articulate the kaleidoscope of feelings I have experienced since then. There have been sleepless nights and much prayer. My spirits have been buoyed, however, by the knowledge that President Hinckley is the prophet and that the membership of the Church will be praying for me and my family.

The summer after I turned 16, I saw my mother trying on one of my father’s old coats. “Money is tight again this year,” she said, “and mine’s worn out.” Right then, I knew I needed to help her. But how?
My first thought was that I could save enough money to surprise her with a new coat. After all, I was the oldest. But the longer I thought about it, the more I sensed there was one thing missing from my plan—one thing that would make the surprise even better. I should invite my two teenage sisters and my 11-year-old brother to help me.
“How about we each donate 10 percent of whatever we earn?” I said, after explaining the problem to them.
“I don’t make much money,” my brother said.
“That’s okay. If you make $1.00 and put in 10 cents, then you’ll have done your part.”
“We’ll go together to buy the coat, right?” asked one of my sisters.
“Yes, at Christmas.”
They looked at each other. “Let’s do it.”
For the next several months, we worked and saved for Mom’s surprise. Sometimes we gave more than 10 percent, and sometimes 10 percent was almost more than we could give after already paying 10 percent for tithing. But no matter how hard it was, we stuck to our commitment. I particularly remember one hot afternoon when my brother, dirty and sweaty from several hours of lawn mowing, came into my bedroom and handed me a dollar. I felt like I had just received the widow’s mite (see Mark 12:41–44).
Finally, one week before Christmas, we counted our money and discovered we had more than enough for the coat, so much more, in fact, that we could buy gifts for everyone in our family. We could hardly wait to see their faces when they found their surprises.
On Christmas morning, we got up before our parents. When my youngest sisters saw the dresses we had bought for them, they twirled around the room with them, saying, “Thank you, thank you!”
“Wow, thanks for the toy cars, Mom and Dad!” my eight-year-old brother shouted as he examined his gift.
“What’s going on?” Dad called from the bedroom.
“We didn’t get you that!” Mom added.
Within moments, they were beside us, staring in disbelief.
Then Mom saw her coat. She picked it up. Tears slid down her cheeks. “Who did this?”
We didn’t answer. We wanted it to remain a secret. Besides, I don’t think we could have spoken if we’d tried.
That morning, my sisters, brother, and I felt the true spirit of Christmas, the one that comes from service and sacrifice. And we felt something else too—unity. We had worked together to reach a common goal. We had done it without complaint, and we had each given the best we had. For those few months, we had become one.
And that was the best surprise of all.

The writing on the plates was in an ancient language. Through inspiration and the power of the Holy Ghost, Heavenly Father helped Joseph Smith translate what the writing said.
Joseph used a special rock called a seer stone to translate the plates. He also used a tool called the Urim and Thummim, two clear rocks bound together with metal that looked like a pair of glasses. This tool had been buried in the Hill Cumorah with the plates.
Joseph didn’t have much schooling, so he wasn’t good at writing or spelling. But Heavenly Father helped him understand what the plates said.
Oliver Cowdery was one ofJoseph’s scribes. He wrote down the words as Joseph read them out loud. Martin Harris and Emma were also scribes for a short time.

A four-year-old Brazilian girl, Mayara Fernanda Dos Santos, suffering from leukemia with oxygen going into her nose from a tube, was blessed in 1996 by Elder Claudio Costa and myself in Curitiba, Brazil. After the blessing, little Mayara smilingly wiped a tear from her anxious mother’s cheek. Instinctively wise beyond her years, Mayara knows how to “comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:9), including her precious parents.