Gospel Story Finder

As a boy, my father had a similar experience the day he was baptized. He related, “When the bishop laid his hands upon my head and … said, ‘Receive the Holy Ghost,’ … I had a peculiar feeling … something that I had never experienced before … [that] came to my soul [and] gave me … a feeling of happiness, a feeling that filled my soul.”

From that moment on and throughout his life, he always knew that Jesus Christ lived and directed His Church through a living prophet.

“I found that even when I felt strongly inspired to do something, I gained reassurance when I talked it through with my counselors,” says a former branch Relief Society president. “Sometimes they would simply confirm that they felt the same way, and we would go forward in unity. But sometimes they helped me to see things I hadn’t seen, and we could either modify what we were doing or be more sensitive in how we did it. Then we would still go forward in unity.”

In May 1921, President David O. McKay (1873–1970), then of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, visited Sauniatu. He was so beloved that his departure brought great sorrow to the people, who wept and kissed his hands as they sang their farewells. The scene was so tender and heart-wrenching that Elder McKay dismounted his horse, hung his umbrella on a tree branch, and raised his hands to leave an apostolic blessing upon the land and the people of Sauniatu.
Today, a monument stands where that event took place. A portion of the apostolic blessing is shared on its plaque. President McKay blessed the people that their hands would be able to produce the necessities and comforts of life. He prayed that the plantations would be fruitful, and the leaders would be wise. He asked for a special blessing on the mothers, fathers, young men and women, and especially the little children. Above all, he prayed that they might have a ‘clear understanding of the truth’ and make rapid progress in gaining a knowledge of God and His work. ‘May thy peace abide here in the village of Sauniatu.’

But Rigmor does not see her willingness to speak up as especially courageous. “I don’t really need courage,” says Sister Heistø. “I just think, ‘Oh, here is something I can do.’” One day, for example, she picked up the newspaper and read an interesting article in which Georg Fredrik Rieber-Mohn, the attorney general of Norway, lamented the state of family life and cultural values in Norway. He warned that the pursuit of materialism could destroy the country and called for the state church to teach values with authority.
Sister Heistø thought the attorney general needed to know that a church is already doing the very things he advocated and that its name is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. So she wrote a letter to him.
A week later, the attorney general himself called, asking Sister Heistø to meet with him. As a result, she spent several hours explaining the Church to Mr. Rieber-Mohn. “I think the Lord knows two things about me,” says Sister Heistø. “He knows I am not afraid of other people. Why should I be? … And,” she adds, smiling, “he knows I can talk.”

About twelve years ago I had a call early in the morning from a beloved friend who is a physician. He asked me to come to the hospital to administer with him to his infant son, just born and fighting for his life. We reached our hands into the incubator and laid them on this tiny boy and prayed, and then sat and waited with Larry’s mother while he took a turn for the better. We were there when the pediatrician came to announce that he was going to make it. He came through that difficult ordeal with a fine mind and a strong, indomitable spirit. Only a pair of legs that were not quite as strong as they one day will be remain to remind Larry how blessed he is to be alive. Recently this little boy’s big brother returned from having served an honorable mission for the Lord abroad. A perceptive uncle, observing the reunion at the airport, wrote a letter to Larry that I had the privilege of reading. I asked if I might have permission to quote it and have been given that permission. I would like you to know about a Latter-day Saint boy just ordained a deacon who tries to practice what we preach.
“Dear Larry,” the letter said, “Yesterday I got a lump in my throat without even swallowing a frog. … More than that, I got a picture tatooed on my memory that I’ll never forget.
“It’s only right that I thank you for the lump, the tears, and the picture, for a handsome boy named Larry Ellsworth gave me all three of them … and he didn’t even know it or ask me for a receipt.
“It started when he stood waiting for his brother to return from serving our Heavenly Father as a missionary for two years in a far-off land named Chile. You could see that the two years had been longer for the boy than for anyone else. He was so intense, so pale, so absorbed with just watching and waiting.
“Then to see his face light up when he saw his brother again! It was like a flashlight in a dark room.
“Someone whispered that this wonderful boy had been saving his nickels, dimes and quarters for two years to buy his big brother a basketball … a more than $30 ‘best there is’ basketball because he loved him! He wouldn’t let anyone else contribute. It was his idea and his gift … the best way, out of money he would have spent for himself but chose not to because he loved someone else so much!
“Then I watched this fine boy stand, without saying a word, at the side of his brother, happy just to look way up to his face, hold on to his leg, and see him home again.
“I have a special love and admiration for both of those boys; the giant who went far away all alone to do what was right and the little brother who waited and planned and remembered.
“Larry, you’re a fine boy. I’m sure that you’ll be a great man … for you have a big heart and a tender conscience. Some can run faster, jump higher, walk farther, play longer just because they had an easier time getting born into this world. That’s no credit to them. But you have more than most to be thankful for, because Heavenly Father sent one of his favorite sons to live in your body … and it’s who lives in the house that makes all the difference. Thanks, Larry, for the lesson an old dumb uncle learned yesterday just by watching. Love, Uncle Dick.”
Marion D. HanksConference Report, April 1971, pp. 129–30.

When our only daughter, Lindsay, was young, she and I enjoyed watching movies together. One that we enjoyed and watched together many times was an animated film called Finding Nemo. In the movie, Nemo is caught by a scuba diver and ends up in a fish tank in a dentist’s office. His father, Marlin, is determined to find Nemo. Marlin meets a fish named Dory during his journey. They face obstacle after obstacle as they try to find Nemo. Whether the obstacle is big or small, Dory’s message to Marlin is the same: “Just keep swimming.”
Several years later Lindsay served a mission in Santiago, Chile. Missions are hard. Disappointments are many. Each week at the end of my email I wrote, “Just keep swimming. Love, Dad.”
When Lindsay was expecting her second child, she found out that her unborn baby had a hole in his heart and that he had Down syndrome. As I wrote to her during this very difficult time, I closed my emails, “Just keep swimming.”
Obstacles come into each of our lives, but to get through them and to get where we want to go, we must keep swimming.

Many years ago, our family had an experience which left an indelible impression as to the importance and value and power of a father’s blessing. The lessons learned may be of interest to you.
When our oldest children were ready to begin formal schooling, Sister Bateman and I decided that a father’s blessing would be given to each child at the beginning of the school year. The family home evening preceding the start of school would be the occasion. The year our oldest son, Michael, entered the third grade holds special memories for us. During the preceding summer he had participated in Little League baseball. He loved the sport. When we gathered for family home evening just before the start of school, Michael announced that he did not need a blessing. He had completed his first season in Little League, and blessings were for younger children.
Sister Bateman and I were stunned. We encouraged him, suggesting that a blessing would help him with his schoolwork. It would be a protection to him. It would help him in his relations with his brothers, sisters, and friends. Our encouragement, along with some coaxing, failed. He was too old. Believing in the principle of agency, we were not about to force a blessing on an eight-year-old. All of the children except Michael received a blessing that year.
The school year proceeded normally. Michael and the other children did well in school, and the family enjoyed their associations together. Then the following May arrived, and it was time for Little League baseball to begin. Following the last day of school, Michael’s coach called a team practice. Michael’s anticipation could not have been greater. His dream was about to be realized. He was to be the starting catcher. The baseball diamond was only a few blocks from our home. The boys and the coach walked to the baseball field, crossing a busy highway. Following the practice, the boys and coach started for home. Michael and a friend ran on ahead of the coach and the other boys. As the two boys approached the busy highway, Michael failed to look and darted in front of a car driven by a 16-year-old young man out for his first drive. Can you imagine the fear that must have struck the young man’s heart? He slammed on the brakes and swerved in an attempt to miss the boy. Unfortunately, the side of the front fender and bumper hit Michael and threw him down the highway.
A short time later, Sister Bateman and I received a telephone call from the police. Michael, in critical condition, was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital. It was important that we hurry. Before leaving, I called a friend and asked him to meet us at the hospital and assist in giving a blessing. The 20-minute drive was the longest of our lives. We prayed fervently for the life of our son and to know the will of the Lord.
As we parked the car by the door of the emergency room, we saw a policeman exiting with a young man who was crying. The policeman recognized us and introduced the young man as the driver of the car. We knew enough of the story to put our arms around him and tell him that we knew it was not his fault. We then entered the hospital to find Michael. As we entered his room, the doctors and nurses were working feverishly, attending to his needs. My friend had arrived, and we asked if it would be possible to have two or three minutes alone with him. My priesthood brother anointed, and I sealed. As I laid my hands upon Michael’s head, a feeling of comfort and peace came over me, words flowed, and promises were made. He was then rushed to the operating room.
For the next four weeks, Michael lay in a hospital bed with his head bandaged and his leg in traction. Each Wednesday, his Little League teammates would visit him after the game and give him a report. Each Wednesday, tears would well up in Michael’s eyes and run down his cheeks as the boys relived the game. After four weeks in traction, Michael was put in a body cast from his chest to his toes. On two or three occasions we took him to a game to watch his friends play. Another four weeks passed, and the body cast was replaced with a cast from his hip to his toes. Two days before school was to begin, the final cast was removed. As the family gathered the next night for school blessings, is there any wonder as to who wanted the first blessing? A nine-year-old boy, a little older and a lot wiser, was first in line.
Over the years our children have come to understand that accidents are not always prevented by priesthood blessings, but they also know that more than one type of protection is available through the priesthood. Today, our grandchildren are the recipients of priesthood blessings. The tradition is in the second and third generations. We believe that this practice, like the family, will prevail through the eternities.

The Lord gave me more success than I expected. He renewed my strength and healed my broken heart. I could run again, and after 16 years of not being able to have children, I was blessed to give birth to a son and a daughter (within 21 months of each other). I’m so grateful I held on to God’s guidance I had received in the scriptures.
I pressed forward through the illness with faith in Christ and with my husband and children as my cheerleaders. Now our children are old enough to run with us.

The Come, Follow Me for Primary videos within the lessons have become a vital tool in helping us to teach our children to love learning truths taught in the Book of Mormon—truths like priesthood power. My husband has also discovered he enjoys Primary songs and learns more truths from them. Even family quality time has improved exponentially. Game has become part of a daily routine, not just for the kids but for the kids at heart, too. Storytelling is on its way to becoming a family tradition, especially stories of our childhood, childhood games, and even stories about how our parents taught us and even chastised us. All these new norms have developed a very special culture for us.

Doris was one of the names on our list of inactive members. It had been so long since she’d been to church that no one could remember who she was. As ward Primary president, I’d repeatedly sent invitations to her four children to come to Primary, but it all seemed to just be wasted postage.
Her location was part of the problem. She lived 72 kilometers away from our small ward in upstate New York—the only member of the Church in her community. In fact, she was so isolated geographically that it had been years since she’d had a visit from the home teachers or Relief Society visiting teachers.
But we continued to invite her children to Primary, to send a card on their birthdays, and to carry a prayer in our hearts that they somehow might be reached.
Then Doris was assigned a new visiting teacher. This sister was unable to travel the 145 kilometer round trip that was required to visit Doris, but she thought she could at least write Doris a note each month and send her the ward newspaper.
And finally the notes and cards began to work: Doris wrote back to her new visiting teacher! “I’m so grateful to know that you still consider me a member of the Church,” she wrote. “I haven’t been able to attend for over five years, but I’m still very proud to be a Mormon.” Thus the correspondence began. Every month the visiting teacher would send Doris a note and the ward newspaper; nearly every month Doris would respond.
Then, one cold and wintry day, there were two new faces in Relief Society: Doris and her neighbor. Doris couldn’t drive, so she’d talked her nonmember neighbor into taking her to Relief Society, a 145 kilometer round trip.
It seemed like we’d always known her. She shared her testimony with us; she expressed great faith in the love of our Savior and in the truthfulness of the Church. After the meeting I made an appointment to finally visit with her in her home. With the permission of the bishop, I hoped to be able to organize a home Primary, with Doris as the teacher.
It was a snowy New England day when my counselor and I climbed into my chilly small car and drove through unfamiliar countryside. The roads were difficult in spots, and we both inwardly wished we had chosen a nicer day for the trip. But Doris had waited long enough. We were going to keep our appointment.
We were well repaid. As we sat in Doris’s cozy home, she told her story to us. The missionaries had knocked on her door five years before. She had rejoiced in the gospel message from the start, and even though her husband had not been interested, he had allowed her to be baptized.
Then came the hard part: she lived 72 kilometers from the church. There were no other members nearby and she could not drive. Her husband had no desire to take her. She lived too far away for home teachers or visiting teachers to come visit her. She had a testimony of her new church; she felt it was an unmatched blessing in her life. But she felt she had no way to develop that testimony.
It wasn’t long, though, before an understanding bishop recognized her need. Her twins had just turned three—Junior Sunday School age—so the bishop brought her a Course Three Sunday School manual. If circumstances were such that she couldn’t make the long trip to church, she could have church in her own home. She could teach her children the good news of the gospel that she herself had learned.
And she did teach them. Every Sunday morning for five years she gathered her four children together and taught them out of that same Course Three manual—five times they went completely through that same course of study.
Imagine how thrilled she was when a visiting teacher showed her that the ward still cared about her! Imagine her joy when she received the new lesson material I had taken with me, along with Targeteer banners and CTR rings!
Doris’s situation has changed now. A branch of the church has been established nearer her home, and other members of the church now live in her village. She can take her children to attend the true church every Sunday of the year now.
Because of the new branch, the records of Doris and her family have been transferred out of our ward. We seldom see her anymore, but as I look through the list of inactive children in our ward, I wonder how many Dorises are waiting for someone to bring them into activity. I wonder how many brothers and sisters and children will be touched and moved to action by our efforts. Like Doris, many won’t require much to strengthen them in the fold. After all, how much does a postage stamp cost?

Sylus B., age 6, Texas, USA
I helped put the candy in the piñata for my sister’s birthday. I felt happy because I could help.

I first found delight in the Sabbath many years ago when, as a busy surgeon, I knew that the Sabbath became a day for personal healing. By the end of each week, my hands were sore from repeatedly scrubbing them with soap, water, and a bristle brush. I also needed a breather from the burden of a demanding profession. Sunday provided much-needed relief.

Welcome! Before we start the hike, let’s go over some rules.
Rules? Ugh. No fun.
Why do we even need a guide? We’ve hiked lots of times without one.
Drink water. Watch where you step. And stay with the group. OK, follow me!
You know what? The rules weren’t so bad. They helped us stay safe on our path.
Kind of like the commandments, huh? And Jesus Christ is our guide.
Right! If we follow Him, He will lead us on a beautiful path.

When Etienne Marakavi arrived in South Africa at the age of 25, he had no family, no home, and very little money.
Having lost his parents and survived many civil war atrocities in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, he left the country by himself on foot. At 19 years old, he began an epic journey, travelling from country to country in pursuit of a new home. He stayed in refugee camps along the way, relying on donated food and shelter to survive.
Eventually, Etienne found himself in Norway. There, he had the life-changing experience of meeting the missionaries and joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But a fruitless attempt to gain asylum status meant that after some time, he was forced to leave. “I went to Rwanda, Uganda, and then Kenya,” said Etienne, “where I was advised to leave the country. Then I moved to Tanzania, where I was told the country does not accept asylum seekers. I moved to Malawi, where I unsuccessfully tried to apply for asylum, and I had to leave due to the harsh conditions of life. I managed to slip through Mozambique, where I got mugged and robbed.” He made it to Tongogara, a refugee camp in Zimbabwe. But the conditions in the camp were extremely harsh and “hopeless,” said Etienne, so he left again—this time bound for South African shores.
Because he had found the Church, he had something he didn’t previously: a testimony. But his temporal circumstances were dire.
“I had every expectation of being homeless for several years,” says Etienne.
And in the beginning, he was. He joined a group of homeless people on the streets of a small border town called Musina and lived on discarded food to stay alive.
But some months later he managed to travel to Johannesburg. There, he gradually started finding menial jobs. Now, a few years later, he pays his own rent, has completed his high-school certificate, recently finished the Church-sponsored distance-learning “Pathway” programme, and is now registered with BYU–Idaho to earn a degree in computer science. He has also remained active and faithful in the Church, currently serving as the ward assistant clerk.
Etienne shares the three biggest things he learned about self-reliance in this extraordinary journey, and his answers show an understanding that self-reliance permeates every part of our lives. “People should not confuse the topic of self-reliance with self-sufficiency,” he says. “I firmly believe that self-reliance involves both spiritual and temporal aspects of people’s lives.”
His three personal lessons are:
“What I first learned about the principle of self-reliance is to always rely on the Lord through the basic routines such as morning prayers and daily scripture studies while I am trying to achieve the goals that I set out,” says Etienne. “Self-reliance in this case means to have faith in the Lord and at that time I am exercising the free agency that the Lord bestowed upon me”.
“The second thing I learned is the ability to seek help that will impact your life positively in the long run both temporally and spiritually,” says Etienne. “In other words, you better learn to ask people to teach you how to fish, rather than constantly asking people to give you the fish.”
When he first arrived in South Africa, Etienne remembers the struggle of meeting basic financial obligations. “It was really very difficult,” he said. But as he battled through these challenges and asked for help when he needed it, he always kept in mind his end goal: “finding a job so that I could take care of myself.”
“The third thing that I learned about self-reliance is the ability to help others to become in their turn self-reliant,” says Etienne. “We all are gifted in one way or another, and we can use our gifts to help and bless others so that they too, in their turn, can even help many more. By empowering our fellow beings, we learn and enrich our lives in the process.”
Above all, Etienne’s faith in the Lord helps him maintain perspective through the tough times. “I think my trials are small compared to what Joseph Smith and the early Church pioneers went through,” he says. “In the trying moments, I always try to remember the words that God told the Prophet Joseph Smith while he was in Liberty Jail, as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 122:
“If thou art called to pass through tribulation; if thou art in perils among false brethren; if thou art in perils among robbers; if thou art in perils by land or by sea; . . .
“. . . And above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. . . .
“. . . Therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever” (verses 5, 7, 9).

I Love to See the Temple
My family likes to visit the temple in Curitiba and walk through the gardens together. I was only four when the temple was built, but I remember going on the tour at the open house. It is a special memory for me.

Gabe spent a lot of time with his friend Jeff. They were in the same fourth-grade class at school and in the same Primary class at church. Both played on the same little league team.
After baseball practice one afternoon, Jeff invited Gabe to his house to play. Gabe noticed a special feeling in his friend’s room. He looked around to see what made it different from his own. On his walls, Jeff had put up pictures of the Denver Colorado Temple, Jesus with a group of children, and Nephi building a boat.
When Gabe got home, he looked around his own room and saw the posters of hockey, baseball, and football players that covered the walls. Books about sports figures filled many of the shelves in his bookcase. Gabe had always thought of sports stars as heroes. He wanted to be like them when he grew up. Now he thought of the heroes Jeff had chosen.
On Monday, Gabe’s family gathered in the living room for family home evening. Dad gave the lesson. “Tonight we’re going to talk about heroes,” he said. “We can find heroes in all kinds of places. What different kinds of heroes are there?”
“Movie stars,” Gabe’s sister said.
“Dinosaurs,” his little brother added, and everyone smiled.
“Heroes of the Book of Mormon,” Gabe said.
“That’s an interesting answer, Gabe,” his father said. “Why don’t you tell us about a Book of Mormon hero?”
Gabe told the story of his favorite Book of Mormon hero, Captain Moroni. “Amalickiah had turned the people against the righteous Nephites. Moroni tore his coat, wrote on it, and called it the title of liberty. Moroni taught the Nephites about defending their freedom and protecting their families.”*
After family home evening, Gabe told his parents, “There’s a special feeling in Jeff’s room. I want that feeling too.” He paused. “Could I get some new pictures for my room?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Mom said.
Gabe and his parents looked through a catalog of church pictures. He chose a picture of Jesus and one of Captain Moroni. Then he picked out a picture of Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove.
Gabe left a few of his sports posters on one wall, and put up his new pictures on the other. Gabe smiled as he looked around his room and felt the peace that his new heroes brought.

The prophet Nephi saw Columbus in a vision: “I looked and beheld a man among the Gentiles, who was separated from the seed of my brethren by the many waters; and I beheld the Spirit of God, that it came down and wrought upon the man; and he went forth upon the many waters, even unto the seed of my brethren, who were in the promised land” (1 Ne. 13:12).
In his own journal and in letters to others, Columbus wrote of how inspired he felt on his journey to the Americas. He said: “Our Lord unlocked my mind, sent me upon the sea, and gave me fire for the deed. … Who can doubt but that the Holy Ghost inspired me?” (quoted in Mark E. Petersen, The Great Prologue [1975], 26).
After sailing for weeks, Columbus’s crew was tired of waiting to find land. Columbus told his crew that if they did not find land in two days, they would turn around and go home. He then prayed to the Lord. On the following day they saw land—they had found the Americas. And many others would begin to come to America, forming governments that created a land of freedom.

by Jeanne McInelly
The silent dignity of the Arkansas House of Representatives was pierced with shouts of “Contact! Contact!” A hundred Arkansas seminary students were clamoring for points in the final scripture chase contest of the year.
“Hold it down! Quiet, quiet! Let’s remember where we are,” cautioned the teacher. “Are you ready? Here’s the clue for scripture number seven.”
It all began the month before in seminary officers meeting where plans were being laid for the next Super Saturday.
“Hey, our lesson is on good government next month.”
“Wow, let’s all go to Washington!”
“No, we’ve got roadshow practice that morning.”
“Well, how about having our lesson at the state capitol building at Little Rock?”
“You’ve got to be important to get in there.”
“Well, so who’s more important than LDS seminary students from all over the state—in our Sunday best?”
“It’s worth trying for. At least after we ask they’ll know there are Mormons in Arkansas.”
Within a week officials were approached, permission was received, and the secretary of state had agreed to speak to the group. Bright picture postcards of the capitol building arrived at all 12 seminary classes around the state announcing the news.
“We’ve got the state capitol building for the next month’s Super Saturday! Be sure to dress up. Now we’re the VIPs.”
The morning of the activity, prior to the lesson, the seminary officers met in a plush committee room complete with microphones at each desk and swivel executive chairs.
“Such class! We ought to meet here every month.”
“So this is what my license plate fee pays for!”
For the lesson students climbed the white marble stairs leading to the assembly room where a seminary fife and drum corps brought in the flag. The Arkansas secretary of state, Kelly Bryant, was a special guest speaker. Some visitors touring the building paused to admire the group and to ask, “Are these kids some special committee for the governor?”
As part of the lesson students impersonating prominent Book of Mormon characters gave campaign speeches in an effort to win votes from the group and gain imaginary seats on the Zarahemla City Council. As this was in progress, one of the state representatives, returning with his wife for some papers, paused to listen and chuckle at King Noah as he confused his interrogators with evasive answers and political double talk. “He sounds like one of us at a press conference,” laughed the representative.
After the lesson students were treated to a tour of the governor’s conference room. Their enthusiasm and good deportment won them a rare peek at the chambers of the state supreme court. “Nobody gets to see these rooms except on court day, but for you I’ll make an exception,” said their guide.
Picnic lunches under the sweet Magnolia trees on the capitol grounds rounded out the impressive day. Between crunches of potato chips, conversations were overheard:
“You know, one of our seminary group just might be a state legislator here someday.”
“Yeah, that kid who played King Noah seemed like he had potential.”

Seminary students in the Capitol Ward, Annandale Virginia Stake, had the memorable experience of assisting at the prededication activities of the new Washington Temple. Their duties were varied. Some of the young people were ushers, elevator operators, parking attendants, and errand runners. Many helped tourists in wheelchairs.
It was a special, spiritual feeling to help in the house of the Lord, and it was a thrill to hear the comments of the visitors as they viewed the magnificent temple.

A couple of years ago my grandson Christian was turning eight and planning his baptismal service with great anticipation. He asked his mother if I could be one of the speakers and share my conversion story. When I asked him why he wanted me to do that, he replied, “Grandma, that is so important. Do you realize that if you hadn’t accepted the gospel, I wouldn’t be getting baptized? I wouldn’t even be who I am.”