Gospel Story Finder

“That old man’s a regular puzzlement, isn’t he?” Nathan blurted out to his six-year-old brother, B.J., who walked beside him down the dirt road toward home.
“What old man?” B. J. asked without looking up as he stomped his already muddy feet in the December rain puddles along the wagon-rutted road.
“You know,” Nathan returned, “the one who moved into the Kelsay place six months back. Josiah Potts. It’s less than three weeks until Christmas, and he’s just as bad tempered as ever.”
“You mean because he never smiles?” B. J. asked, jumping like a frog over a dirty puddle.
Nathan stopped to stare at the sod [turf] house nestled in a tangle of dogwood trees just off the road. He leaned against the rickety fence that bordered the little yard. “I guess so,” he said barely loud enough to hear. Thunder boomed and jagged flashes of lightning cut through the damp air like the sights and sounds of the war his father had gone to fight and had never come home from.
A very cold wind tugged at B.J., and he squinted up impatiently at his twelve-year-old brother. “Don’t worry about it, Nathan. Mr. Potts is just an irritable old man.”
Nathan nodded, still gazing intently at the house. “Maybe Mr. Potts lost somebody in the Civil War, too, B. J. Maybe that’s why—”
Nathan stopped abruptly as Josiah Potts appeared on the little warped porch in front of his house. His long, ghostly white beard whipped every which way in the stiff wind, and his deep-set eyes seemed every bit as dark and foreboding as the sky above. Nathan jumped back from the fence, his sleeve catching on a rotting picket and breaking it loose.
“Well,” the old man yelled, “just what are you staring at?”
Nathan swallowed hard. “Nothing in particular, sir.”
“Since when am I ‘nothing in particular,’ boy?”
“Didn’t mean to be rude, sir,” Nathan uttered meekly.
“Then get away from my fence,” Mr. Potts growled. “I lost enough during the war without some young mischief-maker coming by here and breaking my fence.”
Nathan couldn’t keep from asking, “Did you lose anything besides property, Mr. Potts? Family, maybe?”
Gray, wiry brows came together over Josiah’s eyes in tired pain. “My wife and boy, if it’s any of your business—which it isn’t!”
Nathan fidgeted uneasily. “My brother and I lost our father in the war.”
“You two had best get on home before you get caught in the rain,” Mr. Potts muttered, adding, “The heavens have a way of dropping a heavy load on a fellow’s shoulders without warning and of leaving him staggering.”
Nathan sensed the old man’s despair. Maybe Mr. Potts doesn’t know what B. J. and I know, Nathan speculated, about how families can be forever. He doesn’t know about—
“Well?” Josiah’s voice interrupted Nathan’s thoughts. “What are you loitering for?”
As soon as Nathan had hauled wood and taken the lids off the rain barrels back under the roof to catch the runoff so his mother would have water for the next washday, he hurried into the house. He hid something under his arm and was on his way out the door when his mother stopped him. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Son?” she asked.
“I just want to give something to Mr. Potts.” Nathan revealed a little worn Bible under his arm.
“Your Bible? What on earth for?” his mother asked.
“I’ve read it twice,” Nathan explained. “Maybe it will help Mr. Potts as much as it did me. Besides, I still have the Book of Mormon father gave me when he got home from his mission before the war, and we have our family Bible that I can use.” Nathan eyed the scriptures in his hands. “There’s something in here I want Mr. Potts to read. See, I marked the pages.”
B. J. looked skeptical. “He’ll probably just throw it away.”
Nathan sighed. “Maybe. But it’ll give me some peace of mind. I’ll be able to walk by that old man’s place and say that at least I tried to mend his hurt, and it won’t bother me so much any more.”
His mother looked at him a long moment, her eyes misting. “I’m seeing more and more of your father in you every day, Nathan. We could use another good Mormon missionary right here in our own town.”
When Nathan reached Mr. Potts’ house, he paused, talked himself into going up the steps, and almost knocked on the door. Instead he decided to write a note on the inside of the Bible’s cover. When he had finished, he placed the book on a chair on the porch and left as quietly as he had come.
Two days later, as Nathan was passing Josiah’s house, he heard Mr. Potts call, “Hey, boy!” The old man was standing just behind the screen door. “Why did you give me the Bible, boy?” He stepped out onto the porch for an answer.
Nathan took a deep breath. “It’s … it’s almost Christmas, Mr. Potts. It’s … a gift.”
The old man stared at Nathan, a ragged smile starting to push at the edges of his sadness. “Why would you want to give me a gift?”
“I thought you could use one,” Nathan answered.
Josiah’s knotty, leathery hand brushed a wad of unshorn hair from his unblinking gaze. “You marked a place in it that says, ‘He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.’
“‘And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.’
“I take it that means that a body’s loved ones who have passed on are waiting somewhere for those still alive in the flesh?”
Nathan nodded. “That’s right, Mr. Potts.”
Tears spilled down the old man’s face. “I’d give anything in the world to believe like you do, boy. Anything.”
Nathan thought he would burst inside as he said, “Well, for starters, Mr. Potts, how about an hour of your time this Sunday? Would you come to church with us—with mother, B.J., and me?”
“I think I’d like that,” Josiah answered slowly. “Yes, I do believe I would.”
A few minutes later as Nathan continued on his way, rain started to fall. Unusual, Nathan thought as he walked along, it sure feels warm.
That year, on Christmas day, Josiah Potts was baptized in Cold Water Creek by Bishop Nephi Cole. When he came up out of the water, Nathan saw him gaze toward the heavens in a way he never had before.

How often do we, as modern-day pioneers, honor the sacrifice of the pioneers of the early days? Brother David George, the ward mission leader, announced that there will be a pioneer activity for all ward members on July 24, 2018. Every member of the ward was really excited and eagerly waited for the big day to arrive.
Finally, the day arrived!
Just like the early-day pioneers who travelled across the plains and deserts to reach their destination, the volunteers of the Indiranagar Ward put great effort in decorating the venue. They made an arch out of bamboo with many colorful balloons tied onto it. The handcrafts made by the volunteers were displayed at the entrance. The ward looked so beautiful, and it was decorated very creatively. A collage of early-day pioneers was made and displayed as a source of information for the members. It was a perfect moment to cherish beyond what any words could describe.
On July 24th at 5:30 p.m., all members were seated in the sacrament hall, and they all looked very elegant in their costumes and bonnets, which resembled the clothes worn during the 19th century. This gesture reflected their determination to follow the footsteps of the early pioneers. It demonstrated the pioneering values of ingenuity and commitment and a vision for living their lives to benefit the present and future generations.
The meeting was started with an opening prayer and a hymn. Later on, two ward members, who had dressed like Joseph Smith and Emma Smith, volunteered to showcase their attire, and the crowd cheered for them. One of the senior members was invited to share the testimony of the Church and his personal experience as a follower of Jesus Christ. After this, one of the members concluded the meeting with a closing prayer.
After a few announcements, coupons were distributed to members in every family in order to participate in the games. A handcart, buffalo chips, a basket, a candle, and the golden plates were displayed for the members. Members also had the opportunity to see the covered wagon, which was the mode of transportation during the days of the early pioneers. Two ward missionaries volunteered to describe life during the period, and everyone witnessed the history and spiritual teachings of the gospel on the golden plates.
Two activities were organized for the members to understand the hardships suffered by the pioneers for the Lord’s work. The activities planned were games, namely a stick-pull activity and walking on two wooden boards through the mud. These games showed how each one’s faith could conquer their fear. It helped the members to marvel at the determination of the early-day pioneers who were undeterred by their blistered feet and hands, the sore muscles, or the dust and grit. Such activities help members to realize the painstaking effort put in by the pioneers.
Another activity organized was the food and fun time with family. In addition to this, carnival games were also organized. Members were overjoyed to win prizes by utilizing their talents and to achieve small victories by putting in their efforts, and others cheered for the participants.
It was a wonderful evening, and all the members who had volunteered to cook for the activity presented their dishes. It showed how a successful group effort could work wonders. Every member seemed to have enjoyed the delicious food and hospitality of those who served the food. Everyone enjoyed the activities and the meeting, which had transformed into a unified space by creating an atmosphere of trust. Members were delighted to hear from others about pioneers’ ways of life and their lifetime.
What an amazing evening it was! It made every member realize that being a pioneer is about paving the way for others and also building a lasting heritage of faithfulness for future generations by claiming the legacies of today’s modern-day Church pioneers.

In an effort to create replicas of the golden plates for the Museum of Church History and Art, historians have studied and compiled all the accounts from those who saw or felt the plates and then used that knowledge—and some educated guesses—to create three sets of golden plates for display. Each set varies a little in color, weight, and dimensions. The plates were created as part of the celebration of the 200th anniversary of Joseph Smith’s birth.

With all these descriptions, historians have little more than a general idea of what the plates look like. But they’ve done the best they can with the information they have.

The process to create the replicas of the plates was long and a little complicated. First, thin copper plates were created and coated in black acid-resistant paint. More than 150 volunteers, many of them youth, then used sharp metal tools to scratch characters into the black surface, exposing the copper beneath. The museum provided examples of what the characters might have looked like.

“This isn’t as much work as the ancient prophets did,” said April Rowbury, 15, of the Provo Eighth Ward, Provo Utah East Stake. “It was hard, but it wasn’t as hard as it was for them, because they had to engrave on the actual metal.”

“This is all very speculative,” says Kirk Henrichsen, a senior exhibit designer for the Church museum. “We’ve made them as accurately as we could with the information that we have, but I’m sure if Mormon came to look at them he would just laugh!”

After the volunteers engraved the characters in the black paint, the next step was to soak the plates in a copper etching solution. The solution ate away at the exposed copper, leaving the surfaces beneath the black paint intact. The solution was then rinsed off, and kerosene was used to clean off the remaining black acid-resistant paint. Soapy water cleaned off the kerosene, and then the clean copper plates were electroplated.

Electroplating coats the plates in a thin layer of a golden colored alloy of gold and silver, called electrum. Electrum is not as heavy or as precious as gold. Black ink will then be rubbed into the etched characters to make them more visible.

I received my mission call a week before the civil war that broke out on 18 December 1998, in Congo-Brazzaville, my home country. I was 28 years old. I had to answer the Lord’s call which was extended to me through His servant, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910-2008). I walked for 224 miles to get to the neighboring Democratic Republic of the Congo—the country in which I was called to serve my mission.
As we serve our fellow men, challenges can be turned into opportunities to grow. As I read the Book of Mormon and pondered over the scriptures, I came to discover that the Lord helped Nephi at all times. That gave me hope that the Lord would also help me if I made righteous decisions to serve Him through a full-time mission. In this experience, I moved forward freely, in spite of obstacles, with my mission call letter from President Hinckley, our then prophet. I felt the presence of Lord’s Spirit throughout my journey into the mission field.

Sister Winder: I was in Europe when it was announced that women with nonmember husbands would be able to go to the temple to receive their own endowments. There were many whose eyes were moist.

Pray for your friends. “Amber zeroes in on feelings,” said Cami Smith. “She has a way of dealing with her friends’ distress that works every time. She prays for them. When Amber prays, she prays for us individually. She asks Heavenly Father to help us be happy again. And while she’s praying, she touches the person she’s praying for, tapping her on the head or on the shoulder. Sometimes she ends her prayers with a hug.”

Abraham has another memory of Church music. Missionaries have lived in their home all of his life. One mission president made a rule that all the missionaries should sing “I Hope They Call Me on a Mission” when they got out of bed in the morning. The missionaries living with the Lopezes were very obedient. They’d get up every single day and sing it—loudly and with a lot of enthusiasm. The boys liked hearing the song coming from the missionaries’ room. It is still one of their favorite Primary songs.

The thought of skipping mechanical maintenance on an airplane has never crossed Andrei’s mind. Skipping isn’t an option. “There are laws about that,” he says. But if he did skip maintenance—just once—he admits that “probably nothing would happen.”
Perhaps the biggest problem with skipping is not that the plane will immediately crash but that it won’t. “If nothing bad happens when I skip today, I will be more easily tempted to skip tomorrow,” he says.
When maintenance is skipped regularly, the forces and stresses exerted upon the plane—or on us—will cause something to fail sooner or later. “Eventually we will crash,” he says.

As a young man, Brigham Young struggled for two years to know if the gospel was true. His search was finally resolved by the simple testimony of a missionary—a “man without eloquence … who could only say, ‘I know, by the power of the Holy Ghost, that the Book of Mormon is true, that Joseph Smith is a Prophet of the Lord.’” President Young later said, “The Holy Ghost proceeding from that individual illuminated my understanding, and light, glory, and immortality were before me” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young [1997], 315). When the Holy Ghost assures heart and mind of truth, darkness and doubt flee.

Carlos was a 10-year-old who liked to run, jump, and play. He also liked to ask lots of questions. His Primary teacher loved him. She would often say to him, “It is very important for you to learn the things we are teaching in Primary. Someday you will grow up to be a priesthood holder, a father, and a leader in the Church, and you will need to know these things.” Carlos thought that his teacher was telling him that just so he would be reverent. However, he began to listen and learn. When Carlos grew up, he did receive the priesthood, he became a father, and he was called to be a leader in the Church. He remembered what his Primary teacher had said to him, and he was glad that he had listened and learned.

“When I started the challenge to focus on the joy in my life for a month, I honestly wasn’t expecting much to change. However, when I actually studied the talk by President Nelson and tried doing as he instructed, I noticed something: focusing on the joy and good things in my life (even ‘worldly’ things) really helped put it in perspective.

“One Saturday I was stuck inside working on a big chemistry lab report that was due on Monday. I was annoyed that I had to do homework at all on the weekends, and I felt like I was wasting my Saturday. Then my mom came into my room and told me that we would be going to visit my older brother and sister at their college. I could have stayed upset at the chemistry report and let it overshadow the good thing that had just come into my life. But instead, because I had decided to focus on joy, the frustration I felt from my chemistry report seemed instantly insignificant next to the happiness I felt thinking about hugging my older siblings again.

“When I focused on joy, I started to notice the things that I have and should be grateful for. When I don’t focus on the bad, and I see all the good in my life, the bad things pale in comparison.”

Luke G., 17, Arizona, USA

During the 1980s, the balance of membership shifted from English-speaking to Spanish-speaking as Puerto Ricans began to join the Church in great numbers. Stakes were formed in the cities of San Juan (Puerto Rico’s capital), Carolina, Ponce, and Mayagüez. Membership grew so fast that in December 1993 Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles visited Puerto Rico and divided these four large stakes into eight districts of more manageable size. Now members have more opportunities to develop their leadership skills. They also enjoy a family feeling within their branches, resulting in a higher activity rate.
“Our salvation doesn’t depend on whether we are a stake or a district but on our individual work,” says William A. Burk, president of the San Juan Puerto Rico District.

President Kimball qualifies as a friend of the Savior. When he was in the hospital ready to undergo open-heart surgery a few years ago, 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, used an unfortunate expression in which he 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!”

After returning from my mission to Spain, I felt ready for my next step in life. I wanted to experience the Church in a bigger way, beyond the borders of my home in Vienna, Austria, where members are devoted but relatively few.
I felt that I needed to be among like-minded young people at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, USA, and I hoped to meet a young woman there whom I could marry and with whom I could start a family. I passed the English language test and was soon admitted. My parents offered to help pay my expenses.
One nagging thought, however, troubled me. I hadn’t consulted the Lord. “Why do I need to ask?” I reasoned. Was I not “engaged in a good cause,” not needing to be directed in all things? (see Doctrine and Covenants 58:26–27). How could heaven possibly object?
But the Holy Ghost kept prompting me, “You need to pray before deciding.” Fully expecting the Lord to approve, I thought, “OK.”
An answer came swift and strong—one of the clearest answers I have ever received. I heard in my heart, “I need you here in Austria to build up the kingdom.”
I put the BYU class schedule away and canceled my plans. I thought about my family, how the Lord had helped us immigrate to Austria from Uruguay when I was young. I realized that maybe the Lord did need me here. With a new spirit, I focused on building the kingdom in Austria, which is drenched in beauty, rich in history, and home to many great musical masters, like Beethoven and Mozart.

A young lady named Amalia reported that her first reaction when she heard the Mormon missionaries were coming was not favorable. “Those tall boys?” she had asked contemptuously. But after listening to the message and reading the pamphlets, she and her mother both found the doctrine convincing. But they still lacked a spiritual witness. “We were waiting for a voice or something,” she says, “and it just didn’t come.” But when they went to their first meeting something very special happened.

“When we entered the chapel, the meeting stopped while everyone welcomed us. They received us with so much love that we were touched. They cried and embraced us as if they had known us forever. We were accustomed to images and silence when we went to church, so we were overwhelmed that day by the bare walls and the love. After that I prayed every day, but I still wasn’t sure I had a testimony. Then one day the missionaries challenged us to be baptized, and it suddenly seemed as if I had always known that the Church was true without remembering exactly when I had come to know it.

“Since my baptism my testimony has grown every day. I have had many prayers answered. Whenever I pray, I always hear the answer inside myself. Many of the things I pray about might seem small and unimportant to others, but to me they are important. I remember one evening I was so discouraged that I was crying. I needed help from the Lord in understanding a problem, and so I prayed, and the answer came: ‘Everything will be all right.’ Then I could see the answer to my problem so clearly that I wondered why it wasn’t obvious from the start. My mind was at rest, and I dried my eyes and slept peacefully that night.

“I still have a long way to go, but with faith I will continue to grow. I have to study and learn more every day. I have so much still to learn! I want to share the happiness I have found with everyone. I invited all my friends to my baptism. At school I told my religion class about the Church. That didn’t go over too well with the priest who taught the class, but I wanted to share the gospel with everyone. I help the full-time missionaries every chance I get. I love everybody. I want to bring happiness to as many as I can. I visit the sick. I make presents for the branch members. I teach the children how to help their mothers at home. The gospel has simply turned my life upside down. I’m not the same person I was, and I’m not the same person I’m going to be. I’m never going to stop trying to become better.”

I experienced such spiritual gifts when I served as a missionary in Italy. After a few weeks of language practice in the missionary training center, I worried that I did not have the gift of tongues, but I learned to bear my testimony in Italian and understand what others were saying, and most importantly, I learned to love. At other times, I have experienced the gift of tongues through spiritual promptings to open my mouth and say things that I wasn’t necessarily planning to say. I have also been blessed and uplifted by the inspired words of other women.

I remember an occasion when I was hospitalized for an illness, and it was difficult for me to sleep. When I turned off the lights and the room became dark, I saw a reflective sign on the ceiling in front of me that said, “Call, don’t fall.” To my surprise, the next day I observed the same message repeated in several parts of the room.
Why was that message so important? When I asked the nurse about it, she said, “It is to prevent a blow that might increase the pain you already have.”

“Who knows what this is?” Sister Gonzales held up a picture of a white building with pointed steeples.
Samantha’s eyes sparkled. She knew. “That’s the temple.”
“Right!” the nursery leader said. “And I’m going to sing you a song about the temple.” Sister Gonzales began to sing:
“I love to see the temple.
I’m going there someday …”*
Samantha smiled. Yesterday, her family had gone inside that very temple to be sealed for time and all eternity. Samantha wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but Daddy had explained that now they could be together as a family forever.
Sister Gonzales continued singing:
“To feel the Holy Spirit,
To listen and to pray. …”
Just thinking about the temple gave Samantha that same warm feeling she had felt when she was inside it. It felt like being in heaven.
The two women dressed in white in the youth center had been very kind to her and her brothers. Samantha called them “her angels.” While the children were waiting to join their parents, Sister Ferguson read stories to Samantha, and Sister Moore gave her some cookies and juice. Then they had both watched as Samantha built a temple with blocks.
“For the temple is a house of God,
A place of love and beauty. …”
Sister Gonzales’s voice was sweet and clear.
Samantha already knew that the temple was Heavenly Father’s house. And it was a beautiful house! She thought about the sealing room with its crystal lights and mirrors. She remembered how her family had knelt around the altar as the temple sealer, dressed in a white suit, spoke the words of the sealing ordinance.
Afterward, they stood in front of the mirrors, and it seemed to Samantha that her family just kept going on and on and on. Maybe that’s what forever means, she thought.
By now, Sister Gonzales was finishing the second verse of the song:
“As a child of God,
I’ve learned this truth:
A family is forever.”
Samantha was glad that she belonged to a forever family.

One young woman decided after reading her patriarchal blessing that she wanted to do something grand to help the poor and needy. After unsuccessfully trying to give aid to some people she saw on the street, she thought she’d failed. Then she got home and found her brother crying because he’d been teased at school. After taking him out for ice cream and listening to his troubles, she learned a lesson. “The poor are just as likely to be in your home as on the streets,” she says. “There are all sorts of needy people in the world—those who need food and shelter, of course—but also those who need love, counsel, and encouragement.” (Read the rest of her story at lds.org/go/needyNE11.)

After I had been living in Fairfield, Ohio, for about a year, the Nielson family moved into our neighborhood. It wasn’t long until Brett Nielson and I became best friends. One day he asked me to go to his church for a dinner. My parents said it was OK.
When we arrived at the Church, he showed me around the building. Later we saw a movie called Meet the Mormons, and he asked if I’d like to join the Mormon Church. I said I might, and when I got home I told my mom that I wanted to be a Mormon when I grew up.
My mom thought she’d better see what her son was getting into. So she went to see Sister Nielson, and asked her if she had any books about the Mormons. Sister Nielson gave Mom some books and pamphlets to read.
Pretty soon the missionaries gave us the discussions and we were baptized. Dad was baptized a year later and this year we were sealed together as a family for time and all eternity.
Even though we have since moved to St. Clairsville, Ohio, Brett and I are just like brothers. We plan to go to Brigham Young University together. I know that when you bring the gospel to someone, you grow closer to that person.