Gospel Story Finder

On March 30, just one year ago, little two-year-old Ethan Carnesecca, from American Fork, Utah, was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia and fluid around his lungs. Two days later, his condition had become so serious that he needed to be flown by helicopter to Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. His worried mother, Michele, was allowed to ride in the front seat and accompany her son. She was given a headset so she could communicate with the others in the helicopter. She could hear the medics working on her sick little boy, and being a pediatric nurse herself, Michele knew enough to understand that Ethan was in serious trouble.
In this critical moment, Michele noticed they were flying directly over the Draper Utah Temple. From the air, she looked out across the valley and could also see the Jordan River Temple, the Oquirrh Mountain Temple, and even the Salt Lake Temple in the distance. The thought came into her mind: “Do you believe it or not?”
She says of this experience:
“I had learned about the blessings of the temple and [that] ‘families are forever’ in Primary and in Young Women. I shared the message on families to the good people of Mexico on my mission. I was sealed to my eternal companion for time and all eternity in the temple. I taught lessons about families as a Young Women leader, and I shared stories about forever families with my children in family home evening. I KNEW it, but did I BELIEVE it? My answer came as quickly as the question popped into my head: the Spirit confirmed to my heart and mind the answer I already knew—I DID believe it!
“At that moment I poured out my heart in prayer to my Heavenly Father, thanking Him for the knowledge and belief I had that families truly are forever. I thanked Him for His Son, Jesus Christ, who made it all possible. I thanked Him for my son, and I let my Heavenly Father know if He needed to bring my little Ethan to His heavenly home, it was OK. I trusted in my Heavenly Father completely, and I knew I would see Ethan again. I was so grateful that in a crisis moment, I had the knowledge AND the belief that the gospel was true. I had peace.”
Ethan spent many weeks in the hospital, receiving expert medical care. The prayers, fasting, and faith of loved ones, combined with that care, allowed him to leave the hospital and return home to be with his family. He is healthy and well today.
This defining moment for Michele confirmed to her that what she had been taught all of her life was more than just words; it is true.
As members of the Lord’s true Church, we are already in the boat. We don’t have to go searching through the philosophies of the world for truth that will give us comfort, help, and direction to get us safely through the trials of life—we already have it! Just as Ethan’s mother could examine her long-held beliefs and declare confidently in a moment of crisis, “I do believe it,” so can we!

Courage counts. This truth came to me in a most vivid and dramatic manner many years ago. I was serving as a bishop at the time. The general session of our stake conference was being held in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. Our stake presidency was to be reorganized. The Aaronic Priesthood, including members of bishoprics, were providing the music for the conference. As we concluded singing our first selection, President Joseph Fielding Smith, our conference visitor, stepped to the pulpit and read for sustaining approval the names of the new stake presidency. He then mentioned that Percy Fetzer, who became our new stake president, and John Burt, who became the first counselor—each of whom had been counselors in the previous presidency—had been made aware of their new callings before the conference began. However, he indicated that I, who had been called to be second counselor in the new presidency, had no previous knowledge of the calling and was hearing of it for the first time as my name was read for sustaining vote. He then announced, “If Brother Monson is willing to respond to this call, we will be pleased to hear from him now.”

As I stood at the pulpit and gazed out on that sea of faces, I remembered the song we had just sung. It pertained to the Word of Wisdom and was titled “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say No.” That day I selected as my acceptance theme “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say Yes.” The call for courage comes constantly to each of us—the courage to stand firm for our convictions, the courage to fulfill our responsibilities, the courage to honor our priesthood.

Some time passed; I had my first opportunity to come to Salt Lake. I was finally going to see all the things you had been talking about, or should I say, bragging about. That’s another word of vocabulary that I learned from you. Would you believe me if I told you that I was not surprised when I saw the city? You revealed so much and with such an enthusiasm about the valley, the Tabernacle, the temple, and the members that I already had a vision in my mind of what to expect. I had envisaged even Brigham Young entering the valley and saying, “This is the place.” Now the vision became reality in the same way that you explained the first vision of Joseph Smith and what it meant for the world and for myself.
Of course, we wanted to visit with you. We still had a vision of you, Elder, smiling and testifying with tears in your eyes: “I know what I say is true because I asked my Heavenly Father and I received a personal answer. There are no doubts any more. I have peace in my mind. I know that Jesus is the Christ, that Joseph Smith is a Prophet, and that this Church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, is the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth.”
I could not resist or deny your testimony because of the Book of Mormon. You spoke to my heart by the power of the Holy Ghost. I did not tell you how I felt that day. These are things we sometimes do not like to talk about because of the sacredness of our feelings, but it was the beginning of a new life for me, with new objectives, and a sure knowledge of the Church and of the truth.
Yes, that day we arrived in Salt Lake we wanted to tell you, the same way you told us, that we also knew. We wanted to say: “Thank you, Elder. Thank you for what has happened in our lives because of your testimony. You prepared the way of the Lord. You made his paths straight. Now, listen, the gospel rolls forth into the cities of your old mission. Zions are established in Europe. Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Let us share this joy together.”
We first met one of your former companions; we asked after you. There was a kind of hesitation in his voice, and he seemed embarrassed but finally he admitted that you were working in a gas station and that you would probably not be coming to general conference or even listening to it. You were not, as we say in the Church, “very active,” meaning that you were no longer living the principles that you preached to us some years ago. We decided immediately to see you. We drove in front of the gas station and stopped.
We were looking for you, and as you saw us and realized who we were, there was a kind of hesitation. I could detect panic on your face, and I smiled as you were trying desperately to hide a cigarette that started to burn your fingers. We shook hands, asked about your wife, your children, your life, your future. Something was missing. You knew it and we knew it. We left. A last look through the window, a last wave of the hand.
Today I am in Salt Lake again, and I am writing this letter with the hope of reaching you. I do not know where you are. I drove in front of the gas station, but you were not there anymore. Where are you, my brother?

That is why things like visiting teaching are so important. Just before Mallory left for college, her mom asked her if she wanted to go visiting teaching. Mallory brushed off the offer by rolling her eyes and asking, “How hard could it be?” She admits that she didn’t take it very seriously, but now she understands what a wonderful support system it is. “It is so important for women to check up on each other and to support each other,” she says.

To illustrate, may I share with you an experience which took place several years ago when Sister Monson had been hospitalized because of a fall. She asked me to go to the supermarket and purchase a few items. This was something I had not done before. I had a shopping list which included potatoes. I promptly found a grocery cart and placed a number of potatoes in it. I knew nothing of the plastic bags in which purchases are normally placed. As I moved the cart along, the potatoes fell out and onto the floor, exiting through two rather small openings in the back of the cart. A dutiful clerk hurried to my aid and called out, “Let me help you!” I tried to explain to her that my cart was defective. It was only then that I was told that all the carts had those two holes in the back and that they were meant for the legs of children.
Next the clerk took my list and helped me find each item. Then she said, “You are Bishop Monson, aren’t you?”
I answered that many years earlier I had indeed been a bishop. She continued: “At that time I lived on Gale Street in your ward and was not a member of the Church. You made certain the girls who were members contacted me each week and took me with them to Mutual and other activities. They were fine young women whose friendship and kindness touched my heart. I want to let you know that the fellowshipping you arranged for me led to my being baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. What a blessing this has been in my life,” she said, “and I thank you for your kindness.”

In 2021, my parents were called as mission leaders over the France Lyon Mission. In 2022, Elder Soares came to visit. In his talk to the missionaries, he mentioned that his luggage got lost on one of his flights.
This was kind of a wake-up call for me. It’s easy to see apostles and prophets on our screens and think that life is easy for them. But our leaders don’t ask to do this—they are called to do it. They choose to follow the Lord, and that means leaving behind their plans for the future.
Elder Soares taught me what it means to be a disciple of Christ. Even though he was busy and had his own struggles, he tried to talk to as many members as possible. I realized that the General Authorities are people like you and me who have chosen Christ and work to show His love.
Lydie L.

“It took six months for the judge to make the adoption final, and we went to the temple as soon as we could,” Mom said.
In the second picture Malia was wearing a delicate pink dress, sitting on her parents’ laps and laughing. Mom and Dad were smiling down at her and the temple shone in the background.
“After the sealing ceremony, the temple sealer told us that if we chose to keep the commandments, we would be a family forever,” Mom said.
Malia wanted to live righteously so she could be with her family forever.

Rita Jeppeson and her visiting teacher have become good friends as they meet and share gospel conversations. But their visits also include playing word games together, which helps Rita’s aging mind stay sharp. Because her visiting teacher has learned what Rita needs and enjoys, they both look forward to each visit. Rita knows that they are friends and that the visit is not just an obligation. There are so many things sisters can do during a visit, such as taking a walk together or helping a sister with her chores.

One day Woody poked a hole in my pocket and Mom was cross.
“How did you get this hole in your pocket?” she asked.
“It just grew like that,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her Woody did it. “Did you have that stick in your pocket again?”
I just stared at my shoelaces. They were loose.
“You and that stick!” Mom exclaimed. “Why do you keep it?”
“He’s my friend, Mom.”
Then Mom smiled and told me it was good to have a friend.
I like Mom a lot and don’t want to upset her, so I had a talk with Woody. I told him not to make holes in my pocket again. He didn’t cry or anything. He just listened. Then I felt sorry for him, so I sailed him through the air. Woody liked to fly.
There is a field beside our house and we went for a walk. I saw a plant with pretty flowers. A butterfly was sitting on it. I held Woody very still and the butterfly landed on him. Then the butterfly landed on my hand. Its feet felt funny. When the butterfly flew away Woody and I dug the plant up. We took it home and planted it beside the garage. Morn was glad when she saw how pretty it was.
“I’m sorry about the hole in my pocket, Mom, it was my fault,” I admitted.
Mom hugged me and messed up my hair with her hand. I love my mom!

One day Daniel’s cousin Tyler came over to play …
Don’t go near the thorn patch!
OK!
Hey, Tyler! Let’s kick the soccer ball around.
Oh, no! We’re not supposed to go near there.
I think I can reach it.
Ouch!
Hang on! I’m going to get some help!
Are you OK?
Yeah, but I wish I didn’t fall into the thorn patch!
Mom warned you about the thorn patch because we care about you and want you to be safe.
I know. Thanks for helping me.
What do you want to do now?
Let’s play in the treehouse—and stay away from the thorns!

“I finished school in 1978 and still wanted to be a missionary. By then I had also met my future wife, Maii. We decided I would serve a mission; then we would meet in Hawaii and be married in the temple. But I wasn’t sure how I was going to get to Hawaii or finance a mission.”
Tune considers what happened to him over the next few years miraculous. After graduation he stayed in Tonga translating for the Church. A family from the high school helped him go to the New Zealand temple, where he received his endowment in 1979. Within a few months he was serving a mission in Kiribati. After his mission he was able to attend BYU—Hawaii to further his education (he was the first person from Kiribati to graduate from BYU), and it was there he and Maii were married (the first couple from Kiribati to be sealed in the temple). An impression to return to Kiribati instead of accepting a job in the United States led to an encounter at the airport in Fiji with the Area President, Elder John Sonnenberg. A few days later Elder Sonnenberg called Tune to be Kiribati’s district president. President Tune’s ecclesiastic duties took him to Salt Lake City, where he had hip-replacement surgery. Limping no longer, he now outwalks most of those who attempt to keep up with him.

“Shortly after we were married, we began looking for a church. We had promised each other we would have a Christian home. Our neighbors had a daughter who had just joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She asked us if we’d like to talk to the missionaries. As soon as they walked onto our porch, we knew these men were different. There was a spirit about them.”
Another homecoming, this one leading to serious study, fasting, prayer, and finally the realization that Heavenly Father was welcoming them into the only true church.
“All the pieces fit. Everything was right. And since then our love for God has grown, our faith has grown, and we’ve seen the truth in action in the lives of Latter-day Saints everywhere we’ve lived.”

In April of 1950, my wife, Frances, and I were in attendance at the Sunday afternoon session of general conference, held in this building. President George Albert Smith was the President of the Church, and in closing the conference, he delivered an inspiring and powerful message concerning the Resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Before he concluded his remarks, however, he sounded a prophetic warning. Said he: “It will not be long until calamities will overtake the human family unless there is speedy repentance. It will not be long before those who are scattered over the face of the earth by millions will die … because of what will come” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1950, 169). These were alarming words, for they came from a prophet of God.
Two and a half months after that general conference, on June 25, 1950, war broke out in Korea—a war which would eventually claim an estimated 2.5 million lives. This event prompted me to reflect on the statement President Smith made as we sat in this building that spring day.
I attended many general conference sessions in the Tabernacle, always being edified and inspired by the words of the Brethren. Then, in October of 1963, President David O. McKay invited me to his office and extended to me a call to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He asked that I keep this sacred call confidential, revealing it to no one except my wife, and that I be present for general conference in the Tabernacle the next day, when my name would be read aloud.
The following morning I came into the Tabernacle not knowing exactly where to sit. Being a member of the Priesthood Home Teaching Committee, I determined that I would be seated among the members of that committee. I noticed a friend of mine by the name of Hugh Smith, who was also a member of the Priesthood Home Teaching Committee. He motioned for me to sit by him. I couldn’t say a thing to him about my call, but I sat down.
During the session, the members of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles were sustained and, of course, my name was read. I believe the walk from the audience to the stand was the longest walk of my life.
It has been nearly 44 years since that conference. Until the year 2000, when the Conference Center was dedicated, it was my privilege to deliver 101 general conference messages from the pulpit in this building, not including those given at general auxiliary conferences and other meetings held here. My remarks today bring the total to 102. I have had many spiritual experiences over the years as I have stood here.
During the message I delivered at general conference in October 1975, I felt prompted to direct my remarks to a little girl with long blonde hair who was seated in the balcony of this building. I called the attention of the audience to her and felt a freedom of expression which testified to me that this small girl needed the message I had in mind concerning the faith of another young lady.
At the conclusion of the session, I returned to my office and found waiting for me a young child by the name of Misti White, together with her grandparents and an aunt. As I greeted them, I recognized Misti as the one in the balcony to whom I had directed my remarks. I learned that as her eighth birthday approached, she was in a quandary concerning whether or not to be baptized. She felt she would like to be baptized, and her grandparents, with whom she lived, wanted her to be baptized, but her less-active mother suggested she wait until she was 18 years of age to make the decision. Misti had told her grandparents, “If we go to conference in Salt Lake City, maybe Heavenly Father will let me know what I should do.”
Misti and her grandparents and her aunt had traveled from California to Salt Lake City for conference and were able to obtain seats in the Tabernacle for the Saturday afternoon session. This was where they were seated when my attention was drawn to Misti and my decision made to speak to her.
As we continued our visit after the session, Misti’s grandmother said to me, “I think Misti has something she would like to tell you.” This sweet young girl said, “Brother Monson, while you were speaking in conference, you answered my question. I want to be baptized!”
The family returned to California, and Misti was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Through all the years since, Misti has remained true and faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Fourteen years ago, it was my privilege to perform her temple marriage to a fine young man, and together they are rearing five beautiful children, with another one on the way.

Illustrations by Katie McDee
The grass is thirsty, Mom! It’s all yellow.
I know. It hasn’t rained in a long time.
Ready? We don’t want to be late for church!
Next week is fast Sunday. Please fast and pray for rain.
I want to pray for rain!
Missy prayed for rain every day.
The next Sunday …
I’m ready for church!
Why do you have your umbrella?
I think it will rain.
It doesn’t look like it.
But I know Heavenly Father heard my prayers.
That’s called faith!
Sometimes answers don’t come right away. Now we need to wait and trust God.
Days later …
It’s raining! Heavenly Father answered my prayers.

He returned with an assignment from his mission president to give a report to the First Presidency on the condition of the mission. He was scheduled to spend just a few minutes with President Heber J. Grant and his counselors, but the meeting lasted much longer. As it turned out in the months ahead, that report to the First Presidency was a job interview as well.
A new committee of the Twelve was organized to bring to missionary work the power of the latest means of communication. Gordon was to serve as producer and secretary for the Church Radio, Publicity, and Mission Literature Committee. This was, in fact, the beginning of the public communications office in the Church. His plans to go to the university would be put aside. His career as a seminary teacher, for he taught part-time when he returned from his mission, would be replaced. The committee included six members of the Twelve, with Elder Stephen L. Richards as chairman.
There was an empty office available, but no furniture at the moment. Being resourceful, he went to a former missionary companion whose father sold office furniture and came away with a shaky reject table. One leg was short; that could be fixed with a block of wood. The top was warped and split a little; that could be ignored. He brought his typewriter from home and began a career that would take him to the ordination of an Apostle and to the First Presidency of the Church.

The scriptures are a ready source of family home evening lessons. When Sister Fortunata Mandalari of the Reggio Calabria Branch, Calabria Italy District, took a vacation to visit her daughter’s family, she turned to the scriptures for a family home evening lesson.
“I prepared a piece of paper for each of the seven family members,” she says, “and I wrote on it: ‘For the next family home evening, come prepared with your favorite scripture and a comment. You will have five minutes.’
“On Monday, when we sat down at the table, there was already a peaceful feeling. I knew everything was going to go well. Each family member spoke of a different scripture, and everyone had a chance to speak up and learn from one another. We were so happy with this format that we used it for the remainder of my vacation.
“After I returned home, my daughter told me that her family still enjoys this approach for family home evening. Everyone studies, speaks, and listens. There is no time for boredom.”

My best friend Brad and I sat in his front yard, lost in conversation. He had just found out that his parents were getting a divorce, and we had spent the last several hours talking about the problems he was facing.
Then I looked down at my watch. It was past 1:00 A.M. “Oh no,” I said as I jumped to my feet, “I was supposed to be home by midnight. My dad’s gonna kill me.” I wished Brad luck in the coming days, said good-bye, and jogged the five blocks to my house.
The front porch light was still on—a bad sign. It meant Dad was waiting up for me.
I opened the front door cautiously and stepped inside. “Do you know what time it is?” boomed his voice from the living room.
“Dad, I’m really sorry. See, Brad just found out …”
“It’s after 1:00. Didn’t I tell you to be home by midnight?”
“Yeah, but …”
“There are no ‘buts’ about it. You’re more than an hour late.” He was shaking with anger. “You won’t be going out for a while, young man.”
I didn’t like being convicted without a trial. “That’s not fair. At least give me a chance to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” he snapped. “You’re late. That’s all there is to it. Now get to bed.”
“C’mon,” I argued, “it’s not fair.”
Our conversation deteriorated from there as Dad and I traded accusations. He never listened, I said. I had no respect, he said. And so it went.
By the time I finally did go to bed, I was too upset to sleep. I was worried about Brad, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t talk to my dad about it. I wished things were different, that I could have come home and told him about Brad’s parents. But instead of talking, we only argued about my curfew for the hundredth time.
I really wanted to be able to communicate with my dad, and sometimes I sensed that he felt the same way, but for some reason, we were never able to connect.
I wish now that I had handled that incident with my dad regarding my curfew a little differently. He was so angry at the time that it was fruitless for me to argue with him that night. But I could have approached him later, when we were both feeling less emotional, and tried to explain my feelings to him.

The story is told of two outdoor enthusiasts who hired a bush plane to fly them to a remote lake for their annual fishing trip. Following a successful outing, the pilot returned to retrieve them. However, he quickly informed the fishermen that his small plane would not support them, their equipment, and the added weight of the fish they had caught. A second flight would be required.
Now, the sportsmen were not interested in paying for a second round-trip. So after a promise to pack tightly and a small bonus payment, the pilot reluctantly agreed to attempt the flight.
The fishermen grinned knowingly as the pilot forced the aircraft into the air. However, seconds later the plane stalled and crashed into a large, flat swampy area at the end of the lake.
The plane had stalled as it flew because of a well-known phenomenon called “ground effect.” Ground effect is created when air is compressed between the aircraft’s wings and the earth’s surface—when they are in close proximity. In this case, as the bush plane inched its way upward out of ground effect, it was required to fly on its own power, which it simply could not do.
Fortunately there were no serious injuries, and after regaining their senses, one of the fishermen asked the other, “What happened?” The second replied, “We crashed on takeoff—about a hundred yards (91 m) from where we ended up last year!”

Such ward activities not only built positive relationships among members of the Church but also built positive relationships with everyone in the community.

“I remember one woman, not a member of the Church, who was new to the area,” David says. “She had been reduced to burning wood paneling from her home to keep warm. Once we learned about her plight, we made sure she had enough firewood to get through the winter. She was so thankful she could barely speak.”

Ministering efforts in Fredonia ensured that everyone stayed safe and warm through the winter.

Elder Steven Hanks and Sister Jean Hanks are serving in Liberia and are living in Kakata, a village outside of Monrovia. They recently had the joyous opportunity and privilege of helping two young men in their mid-20’s, John Gbakoya and Baby Ya, receive new wheelchairs.
Elder and Sister Hanks left their apartment one morning at seven and drove to Bong Mine, an old mining town 30 miles northwest of Kakata, out into the bush, to pick up the two men with medical conditions requiring wheelchairs. Their current chairs were running on the rims and falling apart.
The Teerlink family, in collaboration with LDS Charities, had recently shipped 350 new wheelchairs to JFK hospital in Monrovia. It was a 3-hour drive through country roads and snarled African city traffic jams to the hospital where John and Baby were measured and fitted with brand new chairs.
The Hanks disassembled the chairs, loaded them and the men back in their truck, drove back to Bong Mine and then reassembled the chairs. John’s wheelchair took a little work, but they got it done, thanks to some bicycle-repair experience.
John and Baby Ya were overjoyed and so thankful. Their community gathered to rejoice with them. Everyone in town knows them and everyone was thrilled they were given these beautiful new wheelchairs.
It was a beautiful, sweet day. Special thanks to LDS Charities, the Teerlink family for their generosity, and to the Hanks for serving in Liberia and being just the right people to bless these young men and assemble their chairs.