Gospel Story Finder

When I was 14 or 15 years old, I worked for my father in the family dry cleaning business during what free time I had. That summer, business was slow. So I said, “Okay, I want to read the entire Book of Mormon—from the first page to the last.” And I did. The reading excited me.
In the edition of the Book of Mormon I had, Moroni’s promise was printed on one of the opening pages. That promise struck me. If someone read the book and then asked God, He would answer (see Moro. 10:3–5). I had heard the promise before, but in that moment the Holy Ghost impressed it upon my heart.
After finishing the last page of the book, I knelt in a small private room at work and prayed to Heavenly Father. And through the Holy Ghost I received the testimony I sought. From the tip of my toes to the last hair on my head, I felt that the Book of Mormon was the word of God and that Joseph Smith was a prophet.

If these old walls could talk, they would remind us of the bleak, dark days of the Great Depression. They would recall the April 1936 general conference, when President Heber J. Grant announced the Church would inaugurate a Church security plan, later known as the Church welfare plan. Six months later he explained: “Our primary purpose was to set up … a system under which the curse of idleness would be done away with, the evils of a dole abolished, and in-dependence, industry, thrift and self respect be once more established amongst our people. The aim of the Church is to help the people to help themselves. Work is to be re-enthroned as the ruling principle of the lives of our Church membership.”4

My family and I were watching President Nelson on TV when he said something that caught my attention. He said that there was going to be a worldwide fast!
I wanted to fast, but I had never done it before. Recently the COVID-19 pandemic had started, and we were stuck at home. I knew that I had to do my part. My mom couldn’t fast because she had a baby a few months ago. My little sister and brothers were too young to fast. It would be just me and my dad.
I decided I was only going to skip breakfast because this was my very first time fasting, and I didn’t know how long I would last. On Saturday night I had a good dinner, and then my family said a prayer for my dad and me to start our fast.
The next day we had home church, which is what we had been doing since the pandemic started. I was trying to distract myself from the fact that my sister was eating and that I was really hungry. After church, I played hymns on the piano. Later I looked at the clock, and it was almost lunchtime! I had no idea how fast time had gone. I had completely forgotten that I was fasting!
I decided to say a prayer to break my fast. During the prayer, I felt the Spirit more strongly than I ever had before. I felt that everything was going to be OK. It was a great experience.
Ever since that first fast, I have done every fast that the prophet has asked us to do, and I have felt the Spirit strongly every time.

Thanks for being a wonderful magazine, New Era. I’ve only been a member of the LDS church for a month now, but you helped me out many a time during my 22 months as an investigator. I’ve had lots of ups and downs the past two years, and the New Era has always been an UP. I am grateful to the many members of the Church who helped me during my investigation and to all those who contribute to this excellent magazine, as it often helped and uplifted me. I am so happy to have a testimony of the gospel and to be a member of the Lord’s church. You’re great. Thanks again.
Theresa RafteryCalgary, Alberta, Canada

Brayden listened to Mom read from the Bible and looked at the picture she showed them. It showed Jesus after He was resurrected. He was talking to some of His disciples who were on a fishing boat.
The disciples had fished all night without catching anything. When Jesus came, He told them where to put their net to catch fish. They tossed the net into the water. This time it caught so many fish they couldn’t pull the net back up!
“They caught that many fish?” Brayden’s brother, Christian, asked, eyes wide. Mom nodded, and kept reading.
She read how the disciples dragged the net to shore. It had caught 153 large fish. But even though it was so full, the net hadn’t broken! (See John 21:2–11).
This time, it was Brayden who had a question.
“What do you think they did with all of the fish?”
Mom set her scriptures down on her lap. “You know, I’ve read these verses many times, but I guess I never really thought about that. But I love your question! Let’s keep reading and see what it says.”
Soon they found a verse that said Jesus cooked fish for Peter and the other disciples.
“So they ate some of the fish?” Brayden asked.
Mom nodded, but before she could read more, Christian jumped up and down.
“I know! I know!” he said. “The fish were like money back then, right? Because fishing was Peter’s job. Like our dad has a job building walls with cement.”
Mom smiled. “That’s right! So the fish were probably a blessing to Peter’s family, just like the money Dad earns is a blessing to us.”
This time, Brayden’s sister, Victoria, spoke up.
“Maybe they traded fish with a carpenter to get some furniture,” she said. “Joseph was a carpenter, right?”
Mom put her arm around Victoria and squeezed her shoulders. “Wow! You guys have some great ideas about this story. Let’s think of some of the blessings our family has. We already talked about one—that Dad has a job. What are some others?”
Making this list was easy.
“Our house!”
“Clothes!”
“Food!”
Brayden and Christian and Victoria were still calling out answers when they heard Dad open the door.
“You’re home!” Victoria said as she jumped into his arms.
Dad kissed the top of her head. “What are you kids up to?”
“We’re talking about blessing fish!” Brayden said.
Dad raised his eyebrows. “Sounds exciting! I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Go to “Family Night Fun” for an activity to go with this story!
That night Brayden and his family decided to start a new tradition. Every night after dinner, they would tell each other about new blessings they had noticed. Tonight, Mom even brought out a bowl of fish-shaped candy to eat while they shared.
Brayden smiled as he took a bite. Who knew that blessings could be so sweet?

Two mornings after Christmas,
I walked while my brother
Pedaled circles in front of me
With his new bike.
It was four miles of time to
Talk about the small mysteries of
Our sunny dome seen by his curious eyes.
The clouds were a tangle of
Shifting cotton that day.
He watched the commotion attentively
When the path was straight and smooth,
Commenting that the little clouds
Flew faster than the big ones
Because they were scared of being eaten.
I smiled and, becoming the
Intelligent older sister, decided to
Describe the formation of water vapor.
Articulating my words for tinier ears,
I explained evaporation, condensation,
And why raindrops come tumbling down.
“Oh!” he exclaimed excitedly,
Understanding lighting his pink face,
“So we really drink clouds!”
I love that morning memory.

Although it was Joseph Smith’s First Vision, in a sense it belongs to all of us. I came to understand that as a missionary. Because the First Vision is part of the first lesson missionaries share, I had the opportunity to teach and testify of it often. The more I shared the First Vision, the more I realized how profound and powerful it really is. The people I taught came to know God better through the First Vision, and so did I.8 I began to see the First Vision as not just a revelation for Joseph Smith but a revelation for all of us. It is the great introductory revelation of God and Christ to all the world in the latter days.

I had some lovely spiritual experiences that will stay with me forever! The first being how Heavenly Father showed me how powerful prayer can be, and how our prayers can benefit others. The second was when I was sitting in the celestial room and my nan entered my thoughts. That then made me think of her son, and the next day I sealed her son to her and my grandad. That will be a special moment I will always remember. The third was realising how blessed I am as a child of God, having Him protect me once from a falling tree!

In 1842 a small group of women in Nauvoo, Illinois, gathered to form a sewing society to provide clothes for the temple workers. However, as the Prophet Joseph Smith counseled them, their responsibilities would be “not only to relieve the poor, but to save souls.”1 Thus Relief Society was born.
Joseph Smith formally organized the Relief Society on March 17, 1842. His wife, Emma, was its first president.
The sisters quickly set to work helping the needy. New settlers, including immigrants, often needed food, shelter, and clothing when they arrived. Many also suffered physical hardships, illness, and the deaths of family members.
By the summer of 1842, the Relief Society organization had grown so large that no building in Nauvoo could accommodate its numbers. The sisters chose instead to meet in a grove near the temple site. During the winter of 1842–43, they postponed their meetings, but sisters of the “necessity committee,” a forerunner of visiting teaching, still visited one another.

When I was growing up in Guatemala, my family owned a factory that made uniforms for sports teams.
My dad wanted the children in our family to learn to work hard. We helped him in the factory. I got in trouble a lot when I was little. I always seemed to break things! But when I was older, my dad let me take care of the knitting machines.
My dad paid us for the work we did. Then he would ask, “What are you going to do with your money?” I knew what the right answer was: “Pay my tithing and save for my mission.”
When I was about 13, our business lost a lot of money. We had to get rid of a lot of our sewing machines. Instead of having two hundred workers, we had fewer than five. They worked in our garage at home.
I had always paid my tithing, but I never really understood how important it was. Then I learned an amazing lesson. One Saturday morning I heard my parents talking quietly. My dad told my mom that there was enough money to either pay tithing or buy food. There wasn’t enough for both. I was worried. What would my dad do?
On Sunday I saw my dad hand an envelope to our branch president. He chose to pay tithing! I was glad he did, but I was also worried. What would we eat?
The next morning some people knocked on our door. They told my dad that they needed uniforms right away. Usually people paid us after the order was finished. But these people paid my dad that day, even before we had made the uniforms!
In one weekend, I learned a beautiful lesson that has lasted me a lifetime. The law of tithing helps us build our faith and show our gratitude to Heavenly Father. Paying tithing is a blessing!

But these realizations and friendships did not happen instantly. They took time and effort as I consistently attended my Church meetings, served in callings, and looked for opportunities to help. When my bishop asked me to teach the six-year-olds, I felt inadequate. However, after my first month, several parents thanked me, saying how much their children enjoyed coming to class. To this day some of my closest friends in the ward are family members of those children.

For many years I had a less than enthusiastic view of school. Not until my junior year of high school did I begin to realize the power which knowledge could have on my life. Learning now became exciting to me. It started to influence my whole life. School became enjoyable, and I studied to learn. I started reading for fun. I read mostly about scientific topics. I began to see the world and religion in a new light.
The core of this internal change was revealed in my advanced-placement chemistry class, along with a few other influences in my life at that time.
During one discussion about the molecular orbital theory and the particle wave theory of electrons, I asked my chemistry teacher how scientists knew what they claimed. I wanted proof. Mr. Steed, my teacher, finally admitted that he didn’t know, and neither did anyone else. He explained that scientists only knew that the theory fit their current understanding.
I began to realize that much of what I had been taught in science could not be proven. I had relied on science to be pure and free from opinions, but I came to realize that it was not. Science involved studies and theories based on a limited knowledge.

I read the story “The Opposite of Fear” in the January 2007 Friend (pages 18–19). It was about a girl who did not want to go to bed. I was also scared to go to bed because I had been having bad dreams. I put a picture of Jesus in my room and thought about Him just like the girl in the story. I have felt happier since then. I love Jesus Christ.

I found that my procrastination began when I started saying, “I’ve got enough time to do that.” Then I didn’t start right away and ran out of time. So now, whenever this phrase comes to mind, I just go ahead and start preparing whatever was assigned or promised. Plan out the things you have committed to do and just do them.
Elder Sanders, 20Arkansas Little Rock Mission

Illustrations by Clare MS Liao
McKay dressed in his church clothes. He put on his favorite yellow tie. McKay liked going to Primary. He liked his teacher. He liked his Sunbeam class.
But McKay also felt a little sad. Daddy, McKay, and Ryan went to church. But Mommy didn’t go to church.
When McKay was in Primary, he kept thinking about Mommy. He didn’t want her to be lonely. Then he heard his teacher say that it was time to sing “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.”
“That’s my favorite song!” McKay said. McKay loved how happy he felt singing. He sang in his loudest voice.
A sunbeam, a sunbeam,
Jesus wants me for a sunbeam.
A sunbeam, a sunbeam,
I’ll be a sunbeam for Him.
After the song, McKay’s teacher helped everyone make a sun necklace with paper and yarn. McKay colored his bright yellow and drew a happy face. He wanted Mommy to feel as happy as he did.
Daddy came to pick him up after class. McKay showed Daddy the sun necklace. “I want to be like Jesus. I’m going to give this to Mommy.”
Daddy smiled. “That’s a great idea.”
At home, McKay gave Mommy the necklace. “I made this for you! You can wear it when I’m at church.”
Mommy hugged McKay. “Thank you!” She put it around her neck. “I’ll think of you whenever I wear it.”

When Elder and Sister Bednar were married, they consistently had family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening with their three sons. Sometimes things did not go well, and Elder and Sister Bednar wondered if their efforts were worthwhile. Now and then during scripture study there were outbursts such as, “He’s touching me!” “Make him stop looking at me!” and “Mom, he’s breathing my air!” Family prayers were sometimes interrupted with giggling and poking. And family home evening lessons were not always calm with three active, noisy boys.
But they kept trying.
Because they were consistent and kept trying, Elder and Sister Bednar’s family and their love for one another grew stronger. Their family learned together and felt the Spirit in their home because of the small things they did that matter so much.

Today, my wife and I simply request that visitors in our home observe the Word of Wisdom. We have no ash trays, and serve no coffee or alcohol. I even ask friends not to smoke in the car I drive and the small planes I fly. None are offended. But it wasn’t always that easy.
I remember a tough time when we were just married. I was barely back from my mission and had accepted a position with one of the most important international banks in the world. They sent us to South America, where we were expected to entertain friends of the bank and many dignitaries. I learned something fundamental about different cultures during those years. Every culture devises social forms and rituals to communicate hospitality, friendliness, and acceptance. Some of these rituals fit comfortably with the Word of Wisdom, but others do not. We found, however, in nearly every situation, as both hosts and guests, that we could modify the content of these social rituals and come up with something that would still let us participate warmly and sincerely in the friendliness implied in the ritual.

I’ve been feeling so depressed lately I can’t stand myself. I feel sloppy and grubby and not fit to be seen. For example, this evening was Mom’s Primary preparation meeting, and they had refreshments. Naturally I went upstairs to see if I could snitch some. Well, up in the kitchen there were punch and cake and Shane Dean and Mindy Lawrence, dressed in their good clothes with their great figures, talking about their fabulous summer of water skiing and dates. I felt like a big fat frump. They said “hi” and made a few comments of general interest, but they were off on something I wasn’t involved in, so I guzzled my punch and gobbled my cake, and as soon as they left I shambled downstairs again, feeling terrible. I’m not jealous of them or anything—I know how to dress to flatter my figure and I can sew better than either of them. It’s their positions in the world I envy.

The girls’ favorite scene to be in is the “Voyage to Ancient America.” When Tishna and Brittany went to the tryout, there were more children than parts. Three years earlier, Brittany had played a child on Nephi’s ship in the voyage scene. She’d had fun being tossed into the air on a blanket by other actors. She decided that it was someone else’s turn this year and tried out for another scene.

Bruce eased his paddle into the lake water, slicing the dark substance noiselessly, watching the droplets drip from the end of his wooden blade, interrupting the rhythm of his strokes to observe the shimmering return of water to water. Wet diamonds, Bruce thought, as he watched the droplets recombine with the lake.
For the moment, they were the richest and loveliest jewels he could know.
It was late September, and the predusk air was just beginning to acquire the distinctive and leafy mustiness of early autumn. The Connecticut evenings were chilly already, yet Bruce sensed the first morning of frost was still weeks away. When he was younger, the coming of the frost mattered little to him, for September meant only one horrible and inescapable event: the removal of freedom. He was not conscious of beginnings then, as he was today; he was aware only of endings. He smiled as he pushed the paddle deep into the water again, for he could still feel the horrible cringe in his mind that haunted him during the last weeks of summer every year. How he hated to relinquish the freedom of his summer to the walls of a school.
Again Bruce smiled, this time more to the familiar back that occupied the forward seat of his canoe than to the endless water. He had picked Bob up tonight at his gas station, both of them curious to try out the old fishing spots one more time before Bruce took off for Utah and then Germany. They had left the station at 4:30, and when they arrived at the lake, there still were a few hours of daylight left.
“You really think there’s fish left in this puddle?” Bob asked, as he and Bruce lifted the canoe off the roof of the Bug and carried it over their heads to the water’s edge. “Bet the acid rain has just about wiped this place out.”
“Sure there’s fish. How can you doubt it? You just have to find them.” But they had found none so far, Bruce had to acknowledge, though the reawakening of memories had been well worth the trip.
“Hey Bruce, can’t you remember those stars?” Bob said. The silent onset of dusk had begun to slip in over the lake. “Don’t you remember those nights?” He was silent for a moment, then continued. “It really isn’t that long ago—just two years since the last time we were up here, right? But man! Those stars. Sometimes when I work the pumps at night now, I remember those stars.”
How could anyone forget them, Bruce thought, checking his line for bass as Bob spoke. They had been trolling the lake for about a half hour now, but still no luck. Sometimes it was like that.
“Those stars, Bruce.” Bob laughed. “Man, I still can’t say what they make me feel.”
They stopped paddling, then floated freely, words stuck in the stuff of their memories. Suddenly it seemed to Bruce that he was 14 again, and he and Bob were lying on their backs on the seats of their old rowboat, their lines limp at the side of the boat.
“You caught any fish back there?” Bob asked, snapping Bruce back into the present.
Bruce looked at his line; it hung lifelessly in the dark.
“Maybe it’s time to head back,” Bob suggested.
Bruce said nothing. It was hard to stop fishing. He was always filled with the wild hope of just one more minute, just one more moment of patience, and then the tiniest movement of the line would come. If you weren’t careful, you would miss that gentle sign of interest, and the hope would be gone.
“Another 15 minutes, Bob. Let’s wait till it’s real dark. Then we’ll go back.”
Bruce reeled in his line, then pulled the pole back and cast out with one final hope for success. Setting the rod in the bottom of the canoe, he turned in the seat to get more comfortable and bumped his pole in the process. It jerked precariously, the line getting caught under the bow of the canoe. Impulsively, Bruce reached his hand into the black and unknowable water, the dark liquid now fused with the dimming horizon that was tentatively lit by a few of the earliest stars. Bruce tugged at the trapped line with his hand, freeing it, and then, for some reason, felt reluctant to let it go. Unexpectedly, the line raced through his enclosing fingers, pulled taut with certain promise.
“Hey Bob!” Bruce called softly, carefully pulling his hand in from the water, unwilling to disturb the pulse of the line. “I think I’ve got something, my friend.”