Gospel Story Finder

A few days later Dr. Barnardo spoke at a meeting and told those who attended about the shameful condition of children in the city’s slum areas—children for whom no one cared.
The newspapers reported Dr. Barnardo’s words and many wealthy and important people accused him of making statements that were either untrue or greatly exaggerated. No one seemed interested in helping to change this sad situation. At a time when the doctor was most discouraged, the Earl of Shaftesbury, who was a great lover of children, came to his aid. Someone finally believed Dr. Barnardo!
The Earl organized a private dinner party and invited many of the people who had disputed Dr. Barnardo’s words. At the end of the meal the Earl arranged it so that Dr. Barnardo could take his critics by lantern light on a night tour of the lays and prove his claims.
At the very first lay visited, in Billingsgate Fish Market, were seventy-three homeless, hungry, and uncared-for boys huddled together under tarpaulins stretched over piles of fish boxes. Many more were sleeping in empty barrels. Long before the tour was over Dr. Barnardo had convinced the doubters.
Shortly after this experience, the Earl of Shaftesbury suggested that Dr. Barnardo give up the idea of becoming a medical missionary in China and help the slum children instead. It was a difficult decision for the doctor to make and he prayed for guidance.
Shortly afterward he received a letter from a wealthy Member of Parliament offering to provide £ 1,000 (about $2,000) toward a home for destitute children if, instead of going to China, Dr. Barnardo would remain in London to run it.
He believed this to be an answer to prayer, and opened his first home for boys in Stepney Causeway. Three years later he married and used a wedding gift of a large house to set up a home for girls. His work was blessed and other homes followed.
Today the Barnardo homes house the largest family in the world. At least 8,000 children are being cared for in 100 homes. During the past 100 years, more than 200,000 children have been given a temporary home.
One day, shortly after the first Barnardo Home was opened, a pale and ragged boy asked Dr. Barnardo to take him in. Regretfully, Barnardo had to refuse, for the house was already full. He gave the lad, known as Carrots, some money and asked him to come back later. Carrots never returned, for during that week he died from cold and hunger.
Barnardo vowed that he would never let such a thing happen again. Without delay he had erected over the door of the home a signboard that read, “No Destitute Child Ever Refused Admission.” From that day to this, no matter what the hour of day or night, that pledge has been honored.
Barnardo’s doors are always open and no deserving child is ever turned away.
“Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not …” (Luke 18:16.)

“My grandfather on my father’s side is Melvin J. Ballard. He died when I was ten, so I didn’t really appreciate what it meant for him to be an apostle. However, I do remember that he was very interested in me. On my eighth birthday he picked me up at my home and took me to see a movie. As I recall, he slept through most of it, but it was evident that he cared enough about me to spend some time with me. I am grateful that I have such special memories of Grandfather, and I would encourage children to take advantage of any experience with their grandfathers or grandmothers that can become a happy memory for them.”

Photographs from Getty Images
Wilma Rudolph: 2-time Olympian, 3 gold medals, polio survivor.
In 1960 Wilma Rudolph became a track and field legend. She was running for the United States in the Olympics, which were being televised for the first time. In spite of the intense pressure, Wilma ran so quickly she was proclaimed “the fastest woman in the world.” By the end of the Olympics, she had won not just one gold medal but three—the first American woman ever to do so.
Wilma’s incredible victory teaches us a powerful lesson about our true potential and identity. But her story is even more inspiring when you know how it began.
Wilma was born in Tennessee in 1940. She was the 20th of 22 children in her family. She was born prematurely and weighed under five pounds. In her early childhood she suffered from a slew of illnesses—pneumonia, scarlet fever, and then polio, which left her with limited use of her left leg. She required leg braces to stand. “My doctor told me I would never walk again. My mother told me I would,” Wilma said. “I believed my mother.”1
When she was nine years old, Wilma determined to prove the doctors wrong. She took off her leg braces and began to walk, one slow step at a time. She fell, she got up and tried again, and again, and again. With grit, determination, and faith, Wilma continued to practice. Eventually, she even started to run. She ran a lot. And, after years of work, she ran fast—very fast. Fast enough to run in the 1956 Olympics and win a bronze medal at age 16. Then, four years later, she ran again to win those amazing three gold medals.
Winners of the women’s 100-meter race at the 1960 Rome, Italy, Olympics. Wilma Rudolph (center) is awarded the gold medal.
Photograph from Getty Images

“My Young Women leaders had challenged me to finish reading the Book of Mormon by November,” says Sierra Hoffman, a Mia Maid from Albany, Oregon. “I was in the middle of it when President Hinckley gave the challenge to all members to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year.”
She could have simply finished from where she was. And she did. Then, after completing her leaders’ challenge, Sierra turned back to 1 Nephi in late November and started reading again—this time to meet President Hinckley’s reading challenge. She read each night, sometimes for several hours.
“The spirit that filled my room and my heart as I read was amazing!” she says. “Passages that I had never noticed before stood out and touched me deeply. Verses that had confused me before made sense. Tears would fill my eyes as I read about the Savior visiting the Americas.”
Sierra also noticed a change in her 10-year-old brother as he, too, began reading from the Book of Mormon daily. He became more loving, kind, and respectful. Just as President Hinckley promised when he made the challenge, there was a greater feeling of the Spirit of the Lord in the Hoffman family’s home.

“As I was growing up in Provo, there was another boy my age in my grade at school. His name was Walt Hansen. He and I were great friends; there was a great bond between us. His family did not attend Church, but Walt came because of the influence of his friends who reached out to him. Years later he became a bishop in the Provo Sunset Ward, and I’ve often heard people say that Walt Hansen was the most kind and helpful bishop that they had ever known. I hope that you children will realize that you may be a good influence in the lives of your friends and help someone else discover the gospel.

Sunitha, Santosh, and Sanjay Murala welcome the increased membership. The three siblings were the only Latter-day Saint youths in Hyderabad for most of the 1980s after being introduced to the Church in 1978 by their aunt and uncle, Elsie and Edwin Dharmaraju, who had been baptized in Samoa. Sunitha, Santosh, and Sanjay say that study habits developed over years of Church service and teaching, coupled with prayer, helped them all to pass stringent entrance examinations required by India’s highly competitive medical colleges.
Sunitha, who attended medical school in Hyderabad, generated curiosity and discussion among fellow medical students because of her Word of Wisdom observance. Her brothers Santosh and Sanjay, the only Latter-day Saints attending an exclusive Christian medical college near Madras in southeast India, worked hard to clear up misconceptions about the Church. Santosh became so popular that he was elected student body president. “We learned the importance of being an example,” Sanjay says. “It is more effective than preaching and arguing.”

Rafael Mateo and his son, Whalincon (known as “Whally”), paused in the darkness of a stormy afternoon and eyed the rushing waters of the rain-swollen river. Rafael, first counselor in the branch presidency, and Whally, the branch elders quorum president, were returning home after a Sunday full of meetings at their chapel in San José de Ocoa in the Dominican Republic.
They were already drenched from trudging through the downpour and crossing the flooded Río Ocoa that created a dangerous barrier between the chapel and their home. During the dry season, the 6-kilometer (4-mile) hike descending from the chapel on one side of the valley then up to their home on the heights of the other side usually takes an hour. But when the river floods during the rainy season, Rafael and his family have to take a three-hour, 15-kilometer (9-mile) detour to find a place where they can ford the river with some degree of safety.
Rafael had completed the journey countless times before. He had crossed the river every day for 12 years to get to work. Being called two months after his baptism to serve as branch president, a calling he held for six years, only increased the number of trips. After that it was a call as elders quorum president. Then he was called back into the branch presidency.
But familiarity with the river didn’t diminish its danger, and the swift water of the flooded rivers could be as deadly as the wide river they fed. Not long before, an overflowing river had swept a neighbor off his feet, killing him in a mad rush down its narrow course.
Father and son hesitated at the water’s edge; then Rafael stepped in. The river was not wide, but because it channeled so much water, it was cut surprisingly deep. The cold, swift water first pulled at his knees, then his waist, and soon swirled about his chest.
Rafael knew he was in trouble. The streambed was slippery and uneven, and the powerful current threatened to steal his footing. Halfway across, he used all his strength to stay upright, and he found himself powerless to move forward or backward.
Just when he thought he was too weak to fight the flood any longer, he felt a push from behind that thrust him toward the opposite bank. It wasn’t until after he had reached the other side that he realized his savior hadn’t been Whally, who was still on the opposite side.
He attributes his rescue to the power of the same Savior who has helped him survive the threatening pull of other trials, both physical and spiritual.
“I’ve had to throw myself many times into the river up to my chest in the service of the Lord,” says Brother Mateo. “But I feel a great debt to the Lord. He has given me not only the opportunity to serve Him but the endurance.”
Like King David, Brother Mateo knows the Savior “took me, he drew me out of many waters. He delivered me from my strong enemy” (Psalm 18:16–17).
That testimony has carried him through trials more subtle than, but just as real as, crossing the river that stormy afternoon with Whally.

When my oldest son, Eric, was a senior in high school, he wanted to give his family gifts for Christmas. He had little income, so he decided on a gift of the heart.
For each family member Eric made a list of the 10 things he would miss most about him or her while he was at college and on his mission. His lists were rolled up like scrolls and tied with ribbon.
At Christmas we opened our gifts with great enthusiasm and curiosity. My list included things like “Watching her try to use the computer” and “Her hugs.” It must have taken him a long time to think of 10 things for each of us. I cried, his brothers laughed, and his only sister cherished her list. It still hangs on the door of her room today, three years later.
Now as Eric serves a mission in Guatemala, we wanted to send him something different for his last Christmas before returning home. Each of us wrote our own version of the present he gave us three years ago. We titled them “Ten Things I Have Missed Most about Eric While He’s Been on His Mission.”
For some of us it was easy. Eric’s brothers had a hard time but finally finished. It was a great project for family home evening, and we all laughed and cried as we thought of our 10 things. What a great family tradition we’ve started and hope to continue as our other children leave for college and missions.
I will never forget this gift from a busy son who thought to make a gift that would make a difference. We are grateful we were able to receive this from him.

As a young boy, I went on a family outing to a park where an entrance fee was required for each person in the car. The amount of the fee was dependent on the age of each occupant. I was about 13 years old. I noticed that if I said I was 12, then my father could pay less for a ticket. So, I said something like, “Dad, why don’t you tell them that I am 12?” thinking I was doing him a favor. His response is one I have never forgotten as he said, “Why would I do that? You are 13!” The message was clear. In no way would my father call into question his honesty or integrity by saying something that was not true to save money. I am grateful for that example of my father shown to me 52 years ago. It is one that I will never forget.

It happens almost every Sunday evening. Nine-year-old Xinia (ZEE-nyah) Muñoz gets out a pencil and several sheets of lined paper and starts writing letters.
She sits at the kitchen table, absorbed with her writing. Sometimes she’ll look up to ask someone how to spell a word, but during most of her letter-writing time, she is “in her own world”—or in the world of the person who is lucky enough to get her letter.
To whom is she writing? “The missionaries,” she answers with a smile. The letter she is working on in the picture here is for Elder Ed McCoy, a close friend of the family, who is serving a mission in California. He is the only member of his family who belongs to the Church, and Xinia makes sure that he gets at least one letter every week—hers!
“He used to come here for Sunday dinner,” she says. After he left for his mission, Sunday evening just didn’t seem complete without a visit with Elder McCoy—even if only through a letter.
Before long, Xinia started writing letters to the other missionaries from Belize City too. Now she writes a letter nearly every Sunday evening to all six of them. Sometimes she writes to missionaries who served in Belize and have returned to their homes. Every Monday morning, her mother mails a stack of her letters to places such as Honduras, England, Canada, and the United States.

Rookies Kenny, Jacob, and Harlan may have made the Little League Angel Park Dodgers team, but they still have problems. In Making the Team, even though they ace the tryouts, they still have to prove to the older guys that they, the rookies, really are good. In Big Base Hit, Harlan is going to be kicked off the team if he doesn’t come through for it. Find out how the team got out of its awful slump in Winning Streak. In What a Catch! veteran player Brian will have to quit the team unless he can show his dad that he can play well. Jacob and Harlan are convinced that Kenny thinks that he is too good for them in Rookie Star.Dean Hughes7–11 years

Seven of the East German Mission’s eight districts lay within the Russian zone. President Stover launched a series of district conferences into this zone, gathering together the remnants of the Saints. Many branches had almost disappeared. Some had only women and children. The men were dead or in prison camps. The people were reduced to eating weeds to supplement their meager ration of black bread. The members thronged to the conferences, as hungry for spiritual nourishment as they were for food. Time after time President Stover crossed into the Russian zone in his green Pontiac, taking both spiritual and temporal aid, a shepherd to a scattered and ravaged flock.
There was some danger in these travels. He was arrested several times, and once he was taken at gun point to be tried by a Russian military court as an American spy. He was released unhurt. He had been promised by President George Albert Smith that the adversary would have no power over him as long as he was doing his duty, and this promise was honored many times.

I had known for months that something was going on, but it wasn’t until this moment that my friend admitted the truth to me out loud: she had been struggling with pornography for years, basically the entire time I had known her.
While sitting in the car listening to her confession, I was grateful. Don’t get me wrong—it hurt deeply to know she had been struggling so long without me knowing—but I was glad I was at a place where I could respond with love instead of judgment.
Sometimes the knowledge that pornography is evil can bleed into our perceptions of others. I know it did mine at one point. When I was younger, I would hear about people who struggled with pornography and my internal reaction would be anger and even disgust. But when my friend told me about her struggles, I was in a better place to comfort her because I had grown more aware of my own sins and weaknesses over the years.
I know now that being unkind is never justified. Jesus Christ, who is our perfect example, sought after the people who were despised by others. He spoke with Samaritans and sinners. Christ, who can’t “look upon sin with the least degree of allowance” (Doctrine and Covenants 1:31), looks “at us, imperfect as we are, without recoiling in horror and disgust.”1 So having that deep conversation with my friend, I tried to think of how Jesus would react. The story of the woman caught in adultery helped me know how to respond.
I loved my friend already, but I loved her even more after she told her secret. No matter what you or someone you love has done, “It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”2

I know a man, a dear friend, whose mortal service in the vineyard ended last night at 11:00. He had been treated for cancer for years. During those years of treatment and of terrible pain and difficulty, he accepted a call to hold meetings with and be responsible for members in his ward whose children were gone from their homes; some were widows. His calling was to help them find comfort in sociality and gospel learning.

When he got the final sobering prognosis that he had only a short time to live, his bishop was away for a business trip. Two days later, he sent a message to his bishop through his high priests group leader. He said this about his assignment: “I understand the bishop is out of town, so I’m in action. I’m thinking of a meeting for our group next Monday. Two members can take us for a tour of the Conference Center. We could use some members to drive them and some Scouts to push wheelchairs. Depending upon who signs up, we may have enough oldsters to do it ourselves, but it would be good to know we have backup if needed. It could also be a good family night for the helpers to bring their families as well. Anyway let me know before I post the plan. … Thanks.”

And then he surprised the bishop with a phone call. Without reference to his own condition or his valiant efforts in his assignment, he asked, “Bishop, is there anything I could do for you?” Only the Holy Ghost could have allowed him to feel the bishop’s load when his own load was so crushing. And only the Spirit could have made it possible for him to create a plan to serve his brothers and sisters with the same precision he used in planning Scouting events when he was young.

Some years ago, I found an article in a local newspaper so intriguing that I saved it. The front-page headline read, “Determined Dog Won’t Abandon Lost Sheep.” This article describes a small number of sheep belonging to an operation not far from my friend’s property that were somehow left behind in their summer range. Two or three months later, they became stranded and snowbound in the mountains. When the sheep were left behind, the sheepdog stayed with them, for it was his duty to look after and protect the sheep. He would not go off watch! There he remained—circling about the lost sheep for months in the cold and snowy weather, serving as a protection against coyotes, mountain lions, or any other predator that would harm the sheep. He stayed there until he was able to lead or herd the sheep back to the safety of the shepherd and the flock. The image captured on the front page of this article allows one to see character in the eyes and demeanor of this sheepdog.

They started out with a block of wood, gold paint, Styrofoam, and lots of imagination. The results were numerous questions about Book of Mormon peoples and the gold plates.
The annual Bundaberg, Australia, show provides area citizens the opportunity to show talents, test skills, and renew old acquaintances. For Latter-day Saint members and missionaries it was a chance to share the gospel.
“Ancient America Speaks” displayed pictures of the Book of Mormon scenes as well as Joseph Smith translating. The missionaries even went so far as to reproduce an ancient calendar and replica of the golden plates.
The townspeople of Bundaberg were full of questions: “What was written on the plates?” “What language were they written in?” “Who were these ancient people, and where did they come from?” “Who translated the golden plates, and where are they today?” Many of the visitors to the show viewed the film “Ancient America Speaks,” which answered the majority of their questions.
The members and missionaries viewed the display as a big success. It had introduced the Church to many who had not been acquainted with Latter-day Saints, and it produced many referrals.
At the close of the show, the ancient calendar stone was given to a man who now explains its original purpose to everyone who sees the huge replica. He has also decided to find out more about the calendar so as to better tell others.

I was called to be a General Authority twenty-five years ago and had no idea at first what I would be asked to do. I was assigned to hold a stake conference the very next weekend and went for advice to my former stake president, Elder Harold B. Lee, who was then a member of the Council of the Twelve Apostles. I asked him to tell me what to do. His answer both shocked and frightened me. He said, “Theodore, you are a General Authority now. No one tells a General Authority how to act in his special calling. If you have questions, ask the Lord and He will instruct you.” I had prayed before, never expecting a direct answer, but now I prayed soberly and with real intent.
The Lord did answer my prayers—not in ways I expected, but by speaking things into my mind. But that only happened after I had studied the problem and prepared myself to receive an answer. I have been startled by some of the things that have come to me. Scriptures I had not understood before suddenly were made meaningful. Answers I had previously passed over in reading the scriptures took on new significance. I have truly learned over these years line upon line and precept on precept. I have learned to follow living prophets as well as those prophets who have passed on. Of necessity I have learned to live by faith.

Sami was almost home. His mother had asked him to take some bread and cheese to his brothers, who were tending the sheep. It was a beautiful day, and Sami could see the tall date and coconut palms of El Shabar, one of the largest oases on the caravan route. It stretched for miles on the edge of the horizon, from the sand dunes to the west back toward the east like a black carpet.
There were no roads to his village, and Sami could walk where he pleased. Today as he walked, he tried to step on the stomach of the shadow moving ever out of reach in front of him. He looked up as he neared the small village.
The sun was already hot, and it was only midmorning. The dozen or so white clay homes reflected the glaring sun. A couple of dogs lazily scratched at fleas and moved with the shade to stay as cool as possible. And old Bashir’s camel was chewing and spitting under the trees. Why, that camel is almost as lazy as old Bashir! Sami thought, amused at the animal’s behavior.
The cluster of palms in the middle of the homes marked the well, and Sami could see some women bending over the square wash area, beating and wringing their wash. He could hear the women at the well talking and laughing as they drew water. Mother will be there now, he thought, and he listened for her familiar voice.
Sami turned toward his home, still listening for his mother’s voice. He hadn’t seen her at the well; maybe she was already home. She had promised to fix a lamb stew today in celebration of Sami’s birth. He was almost a man now—nine years old! Father had made him new sandals, and they were the softest and sturdiest of anyone’s. His brothers had given him his very own lamb to raise. A “seed,” they called it, for his own flock one day. Oh how he loved that lamb!
When Sami stepped inside his house, he saw that his mother wasn’t there. Where can she be? he wondered. Before leaving to look for her, Sami took a piece of bread to satisfy his hunger.
Outside again, he heard the distant ting-a-ling of caravan bells. As he looked toward El Shabar, Sami could see dust clouds rising up. There must be a million camels, he thought. What a wonderful thing to happen on my birthday! Someday I’ll join a caravan and go to Cairo, Philippi, Caesarea, and even across the Mediterranean Sea to Rome and Greece. I really will do it someday.
Sami hurried toward the caravan, hoping he’d find his mother there, trading for herbs and spices—after all it was to be a special lamb stew today. He also wanted to see the caravan for himself. His brothers had told him that a caravan’s camels had the finest of harnesses with silver and gold bells and brightly colored blankets. And his brothers had described all sorts of people, speaking all sorts of languages and carrying all sorts of wonderful things on caravans.
Sami was running in his haste to reach the caravan, when he saw his mother approaching. She was carrying a bundle in her arms and another one on her head.
“Mother,” he called, waving to her and running all the faster. “Mother, what did you get?”
His mother only smiled as she handed him a bundle to carry for her. “But don’t peek inside,” she told him.
Sami wanted to unwrap just a corner to see what was inside, but he made himself obey his mother instead. She was describing the caravan and where it had been and the people and things she had seen.
At home Mother took the bundle off her head and set it by the fire. She hung up the herbs and put the spices in pots. Finally she gestured toward the bundle Sami had carried. “Now you may unwrap it, Sami,” she said. “It’s for you.”
Sami’s fingers fumbled with the coarse cloth wrapped about the package. Then—“Oh, Mother, it’s beautiful!” Sami exclaimed as he held up a box. The box was made of sandalwood and inlaid with stars and beautiful, intricate designs. And it had a latch! When Sami lifted the lid, it smelled sweet inside. It was a magnificent box. And it was his!
In the middle of his joy, Sami suddenly sat down and looked from the box to his mother.
“What is it? Is something wrong with your gift?” Mother asked.
“No, Mother, but what shall I do with it? It is a very fine gift, indeed, but it can’t feed us or help us with our work. Father says that we should judge all things by that.”
Mother smiled. “Your father is right, Sami,” she agreed. “I’m glad that you remember his counsel. But remember, too, that there are times when we need to be alone with our thoughts and our memories. Most people store theirs in their hearts. But you’re a dreamer, Sami. You appreciate both our ancient, yet precious, customs and our glorious possibilities. And just as families, villages, and nations need dreamers to preserve the best from their past and lead them to great accomplishments in their future, dreamers need things that they can hold on to, to keep their dreams from fading. This box is to hold some of those things.”
Later that night Sami lay on his bed and thought of what a wonderful birthday it had been. The sandals, the lamb, and the stew were truly gifts of the heart from his family. But the box! The first thing in the morning Sami would start filling his box. He would put his old sandals into it to always remind him of the talents of his people. And he would put into the beautiful box a small tuft of wool from his new lamb as a symbol of his first step toward a future caravan.
It’s been a wonderful day, Sami thought as he drifted off to sleep, and tomorrow will be even better.

As a young boy I was out on a farm away from our home waiting for my father to finish his day’s work. I was playing about, manufacturing things to while away the time, when I saw over the fence in the neighbor’s yard some broken-down buildings with the sheds caving in and with rotting timbers. I imagined as a young boy that that might be a castle I should explore, so I went over to the fence and started to climb through.
Then I heard a voice as distinctly as you are hearing mine: “Harold, don’t go over there.” I looked in every direction to see where the speaker was. I wondered if it was my father, but he couldn’t see me; he was way up at the other end of the field. There was no one in sight. I realized that someone was warning me of an unseen danger—whether there was a nest of rattlesnakes, or whether the rotting timbers would fall on me and crush me, I don’t know. But from that time on, I accepted without question the fact that there are processes not known to man by which we can hear voices from the unseen world, by which we can have brought to us visions of eternity.

The youth of the Malta Second Ward, Declo Idaho Stake, challenged the adult members of the ward to read the Book of Mormon in three months. Many of the ward adults took the challenge. The youth established some rules for the challenge. Team members could only count what they read from that time on. They couldn’t just listen to records or tapes unless there was a special situation.
The youth team consisted of all young people in the ward over 12, including single Young Adults. Everyone married and in the adult classes made up the adult team. At the end of the three months, the losing team would prepare a dinner and dance for the winners.
It was interesting to see the enthusiasm build as the ward caught the spirit of the reading. The following comments from ward members were typical: “This has helped my family so much. We have the most wonderful spirit in our home now.” “I didn’t know the Book of Mormon was so interesting. I could hardly put it down.” “I understood the book better this time than I ever have before.”
As the final day arrived, it was announced that one-third of the adults finished within the deadline, and over half the youth. The youth were ecstatic about their success.
The celebration was held with a great dinner and a family dance.