Gospel Story Finder

My search for worthy father figures also led me to others who helped to direct my decisions, such as caring drama, debate, and football coaches. A wonderful neighbor, Brother Beal, stepped in to help me by having his wife give me regular haircuts and waiting in front of my house with an apple on Sunday mornings before accompanying me to priesthood meeting.

Primary workers also help guide children. One Primary teacher, as a younger person, was on the Primary general board that helped create the CTR motto. She taught in the Primary of her ward until she was almost 90 years old. Little children could feel her love for them. Above all, because of her example they learned to feel and recognize the Holy Ghost.

Members in the stake find a variety of ways to serve, sometimes very close to home. Miriam García is first counselor in the Relief Society presidency of the Otavalo Ward, but attends the Latin Branch. In a shop behind her house, several electric looms weave stockings that are sold in Ecuador, Peru, and Colombia. Her profits go in part to support her brother, who introduced her to the gospel before he was called to serve a mission in Guayaquil.
“I believed in God before I became a member, and I believed that Christ would come again. But I didn’t know how to prepare myself,” she says. She is grateful now for her knowledge of the gospel plan and for the spiritual support of her Heavenly Father. She is grateful, too, for temporal blessings that make it possible for her to send money to her brother in Guayaquil.

From his early teens, Wilford Woodruff searched for the true church. Once he gained a testimony that Joseph Smith truly was a prophet of God, Wilford tried to do everything the Prophet asked. When Joseph counseled the Apostles to keep a history of their lives, Wilford wrote daily in his journal. “Whenever I heard Joseph Smith preach, teach, or prophesy,” Wilford said, “I always felt it my duty to write it.” In the Church Historian’s office are stored seven thousand pages of Wilford Woodruff’s journals. The record he kept was invaluable for himself, his family, and the Church.

William Wood’s teenage years ended while he was serving in the British navy. Now, after war experience in the Crimea and China, and a three-year voyage around the world aboard the (His Majesty’s Ship) Retribution, the sailor enjoyed being home again on the Isle of Sheppey, near the mouth of the Thames River. He relayed and became reacquainted with his relatives, none of whom had appreciated his joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints five years earlier.
After being home two weeks William looked up the local branch of the Church. His sister went along, thinking he was just going for a walk. They ended up at a Mormon meeting in Sheerness held in “a little upstairs room in a dirty back alley.” William received a hearty welcome from the branch president and the few Saints who had known him before.
They called on him to speak at the meeting and tell about his sea experiences. His sister was surprised, he noted, “at finding me still a Mormon and hearing me preach.”

I’ve had many jobs in my life. When I was seven, I sold rocks to the neighbors. Then there was the time I took care of a neighbor’s dog for three whole months. But the paychecks for those jobs were nothing compared to the joy I received from my special “job.”
I always went to church each Sunday, but I wasn’t really there. My mind always seemed to be on something else. I enjoyed going but only because I got to see my friends. Church had always been a place to hang out, but after my job it was completely different.
One Sunday morning, I woke up feeling the day was going to be out of the ordinary. My friends and I had plenty to talk about in Sunday School; sadly, none of it related to the Old Testament. Then, right before sacrament meeting, my mom said she had a job for me. I complained for a minute, and then she said, “It will be worth it.”
“A little money never hurt anyone,” I said. But Mom said it wasn’t that kind of pay. She asked if I would walk Sister Clove home from church. I couldn’t believe that she would ask me to do such a dumb job. I wanted to tell her no, but something inside of me made me agree.
After sacrament meeting I went to get Sister Clove, and I told her I wanted to walk her home from church. We both enjoyed it so much that my mom didn’t even have to ask me the next week. I volunteered. After that, Sister Clove and I became good friends. We would walk home together every week, and I loved to hear her stories. Once she even gave me a jar full of candy to let me know I was appreciated.
I know now why the job my mom gave me would be “worth it.” The pure joy of service was so much better than any reward my parents could ever have given me.

“Don’t worry, Gordy,” Benny told his friend. “I’ll get us back to the cabin safely.”
The boys had left the cabin about an hour earlier to explore the area on snowshoes. Benny had been in the woods many times before, but this was the first time for Gordy and he was frightened. A snowstorm had come up so quickly even Benny had been taken by surprise. It was snowing and blowing so hard that the boys could hardly see each other, and there was nothing to mark the way they should go.
Benny was almost as worried as his friend, but aloud he said, “All we need to do, Gordy, is walk straight ahead, and we’ll come to the cabin.”
“Then let’s get going!” Gordy insisted. “I can’t see anything—and it’s scary. What if we get separated?”
“Here,” Benny said as he took a long scarf from around his neck. He tied one end to his own wrist and the other end securely to Gordy’s belt.
“Now we’ll be okay,” he declared, sounding more cheerful than he felt. “Let’s go.”
Benny started out slowly, sliding one foot after the other without lifting his snowshoes off the ground. He felt a slight tug on the scarf as Gordy followed behind.
Suddenly Benny stopped. Gordy nearly collided into him but stopped just in time. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I just remembered something,” Benny said. “Let me think a minute.”
Benny’s mind raced back to the day of Charlie Roger’s birthday party when they played Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Benny remembered how he had walked in what seemed to be a straight line toward the donkey, but when he pinned the tail on, it was far to the right. Most of the other boys and girls walked far to the right too.
That night Benny had asked his father, “Why do we turn to the right when we think we’re going straight?”
“When we can’t see,” his father told him, “we move to the right or left because our bodies are not perfectly balanced. Most right-handed people tend to turn to the right because the muscles on that side of their bodies are better developed and slightly heavier.
“When we can see, we compensate for this imbalance without thinking. But in a fog, for instance, people often walk in circles when they think they are going straight.”
What’s true of fog must be true of a snowstorm, thought Benny. I’ll have to concentrate on moving to the left and hope we’ll end up at the cabin.
“Come on,” he said to Gordy. “Let’s go on now.”
Benny started out again, moving slightly to his left. After traveling for a while, he felt a tug on the scarf. He realized that Gordy was signaling for him to stop.
“What’s the matter?” Benny called above the noise of the wind.
“You keep going too far to the left!” Gordy exclaimed. “We should have gone straight. Now we’re lost and we’ll never find the cabin.”
“We’ll find it, Gordy,” Benny promised him. “Just trust me, and we’ll be there soon.”
When they started out again, Benny felt Gordy following reluctantly. The snow continued to swirl around them in thick clouds, and all Benny could see was a heavy mist of white. Even when he turned back to encourage Gordy, he could barely see his friend through the whirling snowflakes.
Before long Benny felt a tug on the scarf and turned to hear Gordy call, “We’re lost. What will we do?”
“No, we’re not lost,” Benny answered. “We’re almost there.”
Benny’s voice was strong against the wind and sounded full of confidence, but inside he was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t made a mistake. Yet he knew they had to keep moving.
Benny quickly moved one snowshoe ahead of the other, giving a little tug on the scarf. Gordy followed silently.
Suddenly Benny stopped. “There’s the cabin!” he shouted. “I see a little light over to the right.”
He felt the tension on the scarf relax as Gordy called, “Oh, Benny, I see it too!”
The boys hurried in the direction of the light, stumbling a little from fatigue and cold.
“We were right on top of it!” Benny said as the boys circled around to the front porch.
Benny could hear his father’s voice calling through the storm.
“We’re here on the porch, Dad!” Benny answered.
Swinging a lantern, Benny’s father came around from the back of the cabin.
“I’m certainly glad to see both of you,” he said, holding up the light to see the boys. “I’ve been calling and calling for you ever since the storm started. I didn’t dare move out of sight of the cabin, for I knew it wouldn’t help if I got lost too.”
“Well, I thought we were lost,” said Gordy, “but Benny knew just where to go.”
“You can tell me all about it when you’ve changed your clothes and had some hot chocolate,” Benny’s father said. “The important thing is that you’re here.”
As the boys hurried into the warm cabin, they looked at each other and smiled. “You’re right, Dad,” Benny said. “The important thing is that we’re here.”

In most cases, how you express your feelings will greatly influence how they are received. Once when President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) was in the hospital, “he was being wheeled down the hall and into the operating room by a young orderly. The young man accidentally smashed his finger between the metal door frame and the metal frame of the bed on which lay the already-sedated prophet. When this mishap occurred, the young man, in pain, … took in vain the name of the Savior. The prophet stirred, opened his eyes, and gently rebuked the orderly, saying, ‘Young man, don’t say that; He’s my best friend!’” (Robert E. Wells, “Be a Friend, a Servant, a Son of the Savior,” Ensign, November 1982, 69). How could anyone feel offended by such a rebuke?

Bishop Brown’s interest in and love for horses has continued throughout his life. “When I became a member of the Presiding Bishopric,” he said, “I bought a horse, even though I didn’t have a place in town to keep her. Over the years she has had several colts that I have given away. The last colt has been trained by a lovely fifteen-year-old girl and has become a prizewinner. I had not given him an official name, so she picked the name ‘Your Eminence the Bishop.’

When President Gordon B. Hinckley was small, he became severely ill with whooping cough. The doctor told his mother he needed good clean air to breathe. The family moved to a farm during the summer months. Young Gordon worked hard. He learned that we can harvest food only after planting and caring for it. He learned that Heavenly Father blesses us, but He expects us to do the work first.

Another awakening came when Heath was ten. He was already a great swimmer and he knew it. At one meet in particular, Heath had won several races and then proceeded to tell—even brag—to everybody about his accomplishments. “I had five or six blue ribbons and I was going around to everybody else saying, ‘I got these. What do you have?’ A friend of mine who was probably about 15 had been watching me and she just stopped me dead and said, ‘Why are you so arrogant? You’re the cockiest little boy. You need to grow up,’” Heath says, remembering the incident very well. “After she talked to me, I promised myself I would never do that anymore and I don’t think I have.”
Heath, much more humble now, still remembers the girl’s words: “You need to grow up.” Seven years later, anybody who knows Heath could pass along this message to that same girl: He has.

When my father passed away suddenly, I had a very difficult time dealing with my grief. I had been a member of the Church for 16 years and thought I was prepared for this experience, but I struggled greatly.
One evening about a month after my father’s death, I picked up the September 2004 Liahona and began to read. The article in Latter-day Saint Voices entitled “Death Is a New Beginning,” by Claudia Yolanda Ortíz Herrera, caught my attention immediately. The author’s experience was very much like my own, and after reading the article three times, I began to have a better understanding about many things and I felt greater peace. My testimony that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ live was strengthened, and I realized that, indeed, death is just a beginning. I am so grateful for the Liahona and for that wonderful article.Zullymar Rodríguez Castro, Costa Hermosa Ward, Barranquilla Colombia Hipodromo Stake

When our daughter Aris submitted her recommendation form to serve a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, my wife and I prayed fervently that she would be called to serve in a safe place. Every parent desires the safety of his or her children, even as we strive to trust in the Lord’s will. We never imagined the series of tender mercies that would soon be manifested.
Over the years, our family has been blessed through temple covenants, and our children have been raised in the light of the gospel. As my oldest daughter prepared to serve a mission, my wife and I were nervous and excited, wondering where she might serve.
The long-awaited day came for my daughter to open her mission call.
“Dear Sister Ledesma,” she read, “you are called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Your assignment is to work in the Hawaii Laie Mission. It is anticipated that you will serve for 18 months. …”
At first, we wondered: Hawaii? We had never heard of someone from the Dominican Republic going to serve on a mission in Hawaii. But then a wave of excitement and relief came over us. Our prayers had been answered. Hawaii seemed like a safe and quiet place for our daughter to serve, especially given the turmoil in various parts of the world. We were immensely grateful. However, as we took in the news, we began to realize this calling involved more than just physical safety: It was a deep, personal testimony of the Lord’s hand in our lives.
Whether by coincidence or divine design, the missionary who shared the gospel with me many years ago is from Hawaii and resides in the Laie Mission. The missionary who taught my wife the gospel was also from Hawaii and still lives there. Either way, it was a blessing for us.
I contacted Brother Underwood, the missionary who taught me, and told him about what had happened. Days later, we talked on the phone. He said, “I have been thinking about this more over the last two weeks and thinking what a blessing it will be to meet her and have her bring the gospel to my home island as I brought it to your island. What a blessing. She’ll be like a little girl of mine as long as she’s here.”
Last September, my daughter was serving in the Laie Third Ward, where Brother Underwood was baptized and grew up. He was very happy to visit his old ward and see my daughter, Sister Ledesma. When he saw her, Brother Underwood was filled with joy, realizing that the opportunity to share the gospel with me over 25 years ago had paid off—generations had been changed.
What were the possibilities? It became clear that this was no ordinary mission call. The Lord had prepared our daughter to serve in a place that had special meaning for our family—where missionaries who had changed her parents’ lives lived. It was a tender mercy, a beautiful manifestation that the Lord was aware of our family and His involvement in our lives.

And on a summer’s eventide,
For what they did declare
He and his brother Hyrum died
When mob men stormed their stair.
They sealed their witness with their life
And glory in their afterlife.
We too have a purpose in our strife
Because of Joseph’s prayer.

Dumb Old Casey Is a Fat Tree Barbara Bottner Casey does not get a lead in the ballet. She does get the respect of her classmates—and herself. A delightful, true-to-life story.6–9 years

Back in my home city, I attended my new ward and was even given callings. I tried to remain active, but everything in life felt like it was against me, resulting in my dwindling church attendance.
I continued along on a crazy rollercoaster ride through life but never lost faith in what I believed in. I knew that the Church held the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ and everything I needed in life.
I had occasionally attended different wards during those years of being less active and saw the difference between being welcomed and being unnoticed. Fortunately, missionaries bridged the gap and ministered to my needs until I finally came back to church. My home ward truly welcomed me home. I felt like I belonged the moment I stepped through the doors. Because of those welcoming members, I continued to attend and enjoy all the blessings of the gospel.

I was nervous when I first started serving in the temple because I knew I would have to memorize the words to all the ordinances. I was worried I would mess up, so I spent hours studying the words to make sure I could get them right. And while I’ve heard stories of workers who felt like the Holy Ghost helped them memorize the words faster, that wasn’t my experience.
Sometimes I felt upset that I was struggling to memorize the words. Learning the words to the first ordinance took me almost a month. But looking back, I’ve realized that my struggle was an amazing blessing. I was able to sit in the Lord’s house and study the words of the ordinances for hours. And deepening my understanding of those words brought both peace and power into my life. I was able to recognize the voice of the Lord more clearly and more often when I was both inside and outside the temple.
This experience was a testament to me that Heavenly Father knows us personally and knows what experiences will be the most beneficial to us. The opportunity to contemplate the ordinances gave me a better understanding of what the ordinances say and strengthened my desire to keep the covenants I made in the temple.

The Holy Ghost guided me again when I was confused about what was really true. I spent my early years attending a Catholic school. When I learned the teachings of a different religion at school, I sometimes felt confused. I think maybe I felt a little like Joseph Smith did when he didn’t know which church was right. But as I got older, the more I read the scriptures, the more I was guided to the true light of the gospel. The teachings of the Church had logic and harmony, and the Holy Ghost confirmed to me that they were true.

A few years ago my husband was laid off. His employers, apparently sorry for what they had done, offered him a different job, but it would require a difficult move. Nevertheless, we foresaw many blessings, including continued employment.
After moving, however, we discovered that the job was no longer available. No one had a reasonable explanation. The only thing we knew was that we were in a new place, out of work, and nearly out of money because we had paid our debts before moving and had spent the last of our savings in making the move.
My husband tried every way possible to find a full-time job. In the meantime he did minor jobs, and I did handicraft work, which provided us just enough to support ourselves after paying our tithes to the Lord. We were frugal in everything, but it was not easy paying school expenses, buying food and clothing, and finding money my husband needed to go out and look for work.
We wept much, but we never quit trusting that the Lord would bless us. And we gave thanks for the blessings we already had: daughters who were healthy and faithful, a united marriage, and supportive relatives and ward members.
Many friends who were not members of the Church asked us, “If you are in such need, why do you still pay tithing?” The answer was always the same: because the Lord has commanded it, and we do not want to rob God (see Malachi 3:8–9).
We always knew that if we were obedient, the Lord would bless us—perhaps not in the way we had hoped but certainly with what He considered best for our family. We never used our financial problems as an excuse to quit serving the Lord; in fact, our desire to serve Him increased.
Today my husband has a job that helps us make headway against the debts we acquired while he was out of work. It will still be a long time before we can relax financially, but we know that if we “bring … all the tithes into the storehouse,” God will open the windows of heaven “and pour [us] out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it” (Malachi 3:10).

In May of 1974, I was with Brother John H. Groberg in the Tongan islands. We had an appointment to visit the king of Tonga, and we met with him in a formal session. We exchanged the normal pleasantries. However, before we left, John Groberg said something that was out of the ordinary. He said, “Your Majesty, you should really become a Mormon and your subjects as well, for then your problems and their problems would largely be solved.”
The king smiled broadly and answered, “John Groberg, perhaps you’re right.”
I thought of the Apostle Paul before Agrippa. I thought of Agrippa’s response to Paul’s testimony: “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” Brother Groberg had the courage to bear his testimony to a king.