Gospel Story Finder

At the birth of each of my children, during those precious, solemn moments when I held them for the first time, I felt the whisperings of the Spirit teaching me of their unique qualities. When these impressions first came, I doubted. But as my children grew, the truths suggested at their births were verified. I feel wonder for a God who would thus offer counsel to me as he, our Heavenly Father, transferred his precious children to a new father’s earthly care.

The pressure. That’s something else these boys are forced to deal with, and at a very young age they’re learning some amazing things. Steven was ecstatic about landing the lead role in a professional production of Amahl and the Night Visitors, until he heard his understudy sing. His voice was like silver. “Oh Mom!” Steven said, with tears in his eyes, “He’s so much better than I am! He should have my part.” It was then explained to Steven that the boy who was singing had grown too big for the lead, and Steven’s part was secure.

Steven decided right then and there that he would be very nice to his understudy and treat him without jealousy or malice. Steven knew how that felt, because he’d been treated poorly as an understudy before. This decision turned out to be better than Steven ever expected. His understudy in Amahl was Andrew, and now they’re the closest of friends.

The Young Women of the Ventura California Stake met the year-long challenge to finish their four-generation sheets, get to know one ancestor better through research, and write in their journals regularly.
To kick off the challenge, a gathering was held with covered wagons and Mormon memorabilia. Each girl listed the name of a special ancestor on her name tag, and she became that woman for the day. After lunch, the girls reenacted a pioneer trek through a rural area following an “emigrant’s guide” that gave directions and interesting information as they traveled.

One type of handicraft is making Samoan baskets.
First I go out and cut some long green leaves from a type of palm tree called laupaono. With a long bush knife I cut off the sharp edges from the leaves. Then I take them out in the sun and leave them for two weeks. The sun dries them out and they turn a brown colour.
Next I roll each leaf into a bundle and tie these bundles with a piece from the leaf. These bundles are left in the sun again for about a week until they are light brown in colour.
I then take them into the house and cut the leaves into long narrow strips. If I want two or more colours for my basket, I dye the leaves different colours.
I decide on the size, design, and shape of the basket. With some heavy wire or pieces of bamboo tied together, I make the shape I want. Then I weave the leaves around that shape. When I am finished, I have a nice basket.
Tagaloa Burgess, Age 11Pesega, Upolu, Western Samoa

One person who would have loved to watch this young woman develop her skill on the ice is Holly’s grandfather. He knew the lure of speed and grace on the slippery surface. He himself was a speed skater, and he taught his little girl, Holly’s mother, to skate. But he did not live to see his granddaughter follow in his blade marks.
Still Holly is influenced by him and the stories of him her mother has told her. “I hope that he has seen me skate. I think of him even though I didn’t know him. I think of how he used to skate, then my mom skated, and now I skate. And I wonder if my children and grandchildren will skate too. Sometimes I skate remembering my grandfather, and that encourages me.”

Sometimes that love comes in unexpected ways. Kristen was finishing a graduate degree and had recently given birth to her second child. She felt the other graduates had accomplished so much more and was reluctant to attend the graduation dinner. Her fears were confirmed when, at the dinner, the students were asked to list their professional accomplishments. Kristen recalled: “I suddenly felt embarrassed and ashamed. I had nothing to call myself, no lofty position, no impressive job title.” To make matters worse, the professor read the lists as he presented a diploma to each student. The woman ahead of Kristen had many accomplishments: she already had a PhD, was receiving a second master’s degree, and she’d even been a mayor! The woman received grand applause.

Then it was Kristen’s turn. She handed the professor her blank sheet, trying to hold back the tears. The professor had been one of her teachers and had praised her performance. He looked at her blank paper. Without missing a beat he announced, “Kristen holds the most critical role in all of society.” He was quiet for a few seconds, then declared in a powerful voice, “She is the mother of her children.” Instead of a few courteous claps, people rose to their feet. There was just one standing ovation that night; it was for the mother in the room.

by Louise Coupar and Nicola Henry
The Young Women of the Maidstone England Stake planned an all-day activity called “It’s Fun to Be Feminine.” When the day began, the floor of the stake house cultural hall was dotted with young women dressed in different coloured leotards doing a physical fitness routine to music. Screams and shrieks filled the hall as they performed all kinds of agonizing exercises. Despite the aches and pains, it was all good fun.
Soon it was lunchtime, and everyone helped to lay the tables as the meal was served. After lunch we all watched a film showing us the correct way to apply makeup and how to look after our skin. One of the Young Adults, who is a hairdresser, talked to us about hair care, which we all tried out on each other.
A discussion followed, and a member of the stake Young Women presidency talked to us on how to mix and match our clothes. This brought us to the final part of the day. We were all seated in the chapel to listen to a few words from the Young Women presidency. Two girls were asked to bear their testimonies, and the meeting was closed with a hymn and a prayer. The activity was enjoyable, and we all learned and benefited from it.

Brother Rivera was born 17 December 1899 in Arequipa, Peru. He eventually settled in Cuzco, a city about 600 kilometers southeast of Lima located in the peaks of the Andes Mountains. It was there he met the missionaries. The story of his conversion and subsequent dedication to the Church shows the faith and good works that characterize this Peruvian pioneer of the Church.
“Like Joseph Smith and so many others, I was searching for the truth in all the religious sects,” says Brother Rivera, “but I never joined any of them.” His search came to an end when he was sixty-seven years old.
“I was in my store, busily working,” he says. “It was a Sunday. My son Héctor came in and told me, ‘Papá, I know you’ve investigated many churches, but there’s a new one in town.’
“I told him, ‘It doesn’t matter—they’re all the same.’
“‘Come on,’ Héctor said. ‘This may be the one you’re looking for.’
“Perhaps the Spirit of the Lord was with him to get me to go. So I put on my hat and went with Héctor to the meeting place. There I found two elders. I greeted them and they welcomed me. It was 9:30 or 10:00 in the morning when the meetings began, and I was there until noon. At first I didn’t understand much of what I heard, since I was more used to the religious customs I had grown up with. But by my second visit a week later, I realized that I had found the true church of Jesus Christ, especially when the elders spoke of the Word of Wisdom.”
Now, twenty-four years later, Brother Rivera still gives much of the credit for his good health and energy to living the Word of Wisdom.
“After my baptism, I felt something change inside,” he says. “It’s my secret for having lived so long.”
“As long as I can remember,” says his son Héctor, “I have never seen my father break the Word of Wisdom. Never. I am sure it is because of this he is strong and the Lord blesses him.”

I knew of a man who never looked up; consequently, he never lived—he just existed. Over a period of years this man became a slave to alcohol. Drink by drink he accumulated all the miserable habits and characteristics of a drunkard. He walked the streets in a stupor of mind and with an unsteady step. When greeted by friends passing by, his response was a feeble wave of the hand or an almost inaudible grunt. Physically, he was a wreck.
To avoid people and conversation, this alcoholic would stagger off the path or into the gutter, for that was the direction of his look. He seemed oblivious to the people, the things, and the events around him.
Many pitied this man who had lost health, pride, purpose, family love, and other blessings. They observed his shackled condition but did little or nothing to remove or help him remove the shackles. Others, without compassion ridiculed him.
After many years of suffering, some unselfish people helped this man work a miracle. These friends invested countless hours of loving care, much kindly persuasion, many fervent prayers, and all else required to reform the man. In the process of repentance, (1) he allowed the written word of God to nourish his impoverished soul; (2) he fixed his eyes upon a living prophet and tuned his ears to the prophet’s teachings; and (3) he also rekindled faith in himself by exercising faith in Christ.
In time he gained the confidence and strength to walk with steady stride on the sidewalk. He was successful in breaking Satan’s bonds. He straightened his shoulders, looked people in the eye, and began to converse with others.
More important, he assumed his rightful role as a loved husband and respected father. I’m told that when this man—this new man—stood in church and bore his testimony, he expressed these thoughts:
“You’ll never know how wonderful it is to recognize people by the smiles on their faces rather than the dust on their shoes.”
“You’ll never know how wonderful it is to gaze upward at a blue sky rather than downward at darkened ground.”
“You’ll never know how wonderful it is to return home from work and have your children run toward you with love, rather than away from you with fear.”

Without the ability to continue his education at that time, Enoch pursued other interests. From the time he had mastered the piano, he had wanted to teach it, so he began doing so. In addition, he resumed his service to the Lord by working for FamilySearch out of the offices of the Africa West Area in Accra, Ghana. While working there, he met a senior sister missionary who was teaching a ukulele class. He had become acquainted and enamoured with the ukulele on his mission where his general love of music had drawn him towards it, so he joined with the class. Through his association with members of the class, they became aware of his desire to continue his education, so they helped him find new sponsors for attending university. Again, his love of music and his service to, and trust in, the Lord had brought him to the next step in his personal progress. With his sponsorship now secure, Enoch applied to, and was accepted at, BYU-Idaho where he is now studying data science.

When we face serious challenges, sometimes we find it difficult to trust in the Lord. But trusting in Him brings us the hope we need in order to face our challenges.
That’s what happened with members of the Gatrell family, who live in Sister Jean A. Stevens’s ward. Sister Stevens, first counselor in the Primary general presidency, said the family held tight to the gospel and to their temple covenants after Brother Gatrell was diagnosed with cancer. Doing so gave them hope in God’s promises that they would be together again after this life.
Through the difficult days before her husband passed away, Sister Gatrell said, “I knew the Lord was watching over us. If you trust in the Lord, truly you can overcome any of life’s challenges.”5

I had a lovely exchange at the Saturday Review with, I guess, a sweet lady. I had rejected some of her poems. I have to reject a lot of them. I get about 500 a week, and I can only accept two. But she took my rejection personally, as many people do, and wrote me a hot letter. I had not remembered the poem, but she said, “I suppose you rejected my poem because it was about God.”
I had to reply. “Dear Madam: No, I did not reject your poem because it was about God. I rejected it because I could not conquer a feeling that you were not equal to your subject.”

About a year after my father’s baptism, he became very ill. Early one Sunday morning, he called my mother, my brothers, my sisters, and me to his bedside. There, he looked at me and said, “My son, I hope you will serve a mission.” After saying these words, he died.

My father’s dying words impressed me so deeply that I did wear the “uniform” of a full-time missionary. I served in the Philippines Quezon City Mission.

During World War II, I was in cadet training at Thunderbird Field near Scottsdale, Arizona. We would on occasion go into Phoenix on the weekend, and on Sunday afternoon, we would be finding a way back to our base. Scottsdale, Arizona, in those days was a rural suburb of Phoenix and consisted of not much more than two street crossings.
One Sunday, several of us were not able to get a ride, so we began the long walk back to the base. As we were hiking along, an old car drew up and a gentleman offered us a ride. There were more of us than could get in his old car, but there were small steps by the doors on which we could stand, and so he drove slowly along as we chatted. Several complained about the desert and how dry and dead and lifeless it was. Finally, he stopped the car and said he wanted to show us something.
He then told us he was a teacher of natural sciences, and we spent some time walking into the desert. He showed us plants and animals and living things and opened our eyes to a new world. He pointed out shriveled and supposedly dead plants.
Then he broke off a piece of a branch and held it up to us. “This,” he said, “is not dead. It is just dormant. There is life in it.” And then he explained that when the right conditions came, it would bud and bloom and become alive again.
That lesson made a deep impression on us. We had thought the desert was barren and lifeless, but he showed us that there was life there if we knew how to look for it. In the same way, the teacher must learn to see beyond the obvious and use familiar things to teach deeper truths.

Natasha, Ryan, Rachel, Sarah, and Samuel’s family has family home evening every Monday night. In fact, they plan around it and make it a priority so that nothing else takes its place. For one family home evening, they read “The Big Jar” from the March 2008 Friend. Afterward, they wrote down nice things about each family member on pieces of paper. They put them in a “kindness jar,” and their mom read them so that no one knew who had said what about each person. As their mom read the nice things, each person got a big smile on his or her face. “The Big Jar” and this activity helped the family be kinder to each other, and they won’t forget the wonderful compliments they gave and received.

Elder Francisco J. Viñas (Spain): I want to share with you an experience we had during my service as mission president in 1989. While we served in the Argentina Salta Mission, a few days before Christmas, we received instruction from the Missionary Department that the missionaries had to stay in their apartments until further notice because of the invasion of Panama by the United States.

On the morning of December 24th, we loaded the mission cars and divided the mission into two parts: the assistants went to the north part of the mission, and my eight-year-old son and I went to the south of the mission. The purpose was to visit each companionship in their apartment, deliver food, and share a Christmas message with them. This was a great experience for my son and me. Being in each apartment and sharing with the missionaries was a wonderful experience for both of us—one we always cherish as a great Christmas memory.

My wife and two daughters stayed in the mission home, and my son and I returned in the early morning of December 25th. That was the first time that we were not together as a family for Christmas Eve, but it was for us the most memorable of Christmases.

“As soon as I was old enough to milk a cow, that became one of my chores. I didn’t particularly enjoy that job, but it was a very good lesson in responsibility. We always had a cow, and I milked it every night and morning. I can remember milking it when the temperature was forty degrees below zero. When it was that cold, you could hear the crunch of the snow for a long distance when somebody walked on it. If you touched a piece of metal with your bare fingers, your skin would stick to the metal. You only did that once.”

Peni and Jieni Naivaluvou doubled the size of their family when they took in four girls from Vanuatu who were attending the Fiji LDS Church College. But the Naivaluvous do not see this as a sacrifice. They feel they have been amply blessed for doing it. One of those blessings, they believe, is the addition to their family of baby Hagoth, born in January 2009.
In early 2008 Bishop and Sister Naivaluvou of the Tamavua Ward, Suva Fiji North Stake, heard that two young students from Vanuatu needed a place to board, so the Naivaluvous took stock of their own situation. Their sons, Soane, 18, and Ross, 16, were away from home attending a Church school in Tonga, the land of their father’s ancestry. The two girls from Vanuatu were boarding, at high cost to their parents, with a non-LDS family in Suva. The two girls would be good company for then 13-year-old Andrea Naivaluvou; Andrea also attends the Church College and was arriving home in the afternoon before her parents were off work. So Brother and Sister Naivaluvou decided they would invite the two girls from Vanuatu to live in their home at no charge.
The girls insisted on helping with costs, but still their expenses were less than half of what they had been paying earlier—a blessing for their families.
In April two other Vanuatuan girls came for a visit and enjoyed the atmosphere of the Naivaluvou home. A short time later these two girls asked if they too might come there to live. The Naivaluvous gladly took them in.
How did it work to have four extra young people in the home? “We’ve built up such a bond it’s more like they are our daughters,” Bishop Naivaluvou says. The Naivaluvous made it clear from the beginning that the girls were to be considered part of the family. The four girls from Vanuatu actually are related to each other, but in the Naivaluvou home they treated each other like sisters born of the same parents. Andrea Naivaluvou also came to accept them “like my sisters,” she says; the older girls watched out for her and even helped her with homework when there was a need. The four girls began to call Bishop and Sister Naivaluvou Ta and Na—“Dad” and “Mom” in Fijian.
This may be the first time, Sister Naivaluvou says, that girls from Vanuatu who are attending the Church College have been able to board with member families. The father of one of the girls, when he came to visit, expressed his deep gratitude to the Naivaluvous for the love they have shown his daughter.
Sister Naivaluvou points out that one of the girls, the daughter of a district president on Vanuatu, was a great example to their family through her faith; Bishop Naivaluvou says her example helped his family be more consistent about scripture study and family prayer.
Both of the Naivaluvous say they have been blessed temporally because they have shared with others. Their resources have gone farther. And Sister Naivaluvou believes the blessing of being able to become pregnant again after 13 years is connected with their willingness to share love with others.
When the Naivaluvous’ two sons returned home at the end of their school year in Tonga, they too accepted the young women as part of the family. But perhaps Soane can be excused for not seeing the girls exactly as sisters. He found himself drafted as a prom date for one of the young women. He played his role like a gentleman.
When the four girls finished their school year and returned home to Vanuatu late in 2008, the farewells were heart tugging, Bishop Naivaluvou recalls. It was as though he and his wife were saying good-bye to four daughters. And when a new school year began in 2009, the Naivaluvous were glad to welcome their four “daughters” back—plus two more.
With only four sleeping rooms in their home, some would wonder how they could make room for six young women in addition to their own daughter and new baby. But the Naivaluvou family quickly worked it out without difficulty.
After all, it was not a matter of personal space. It was simply a matter of expanding their circle of love.

A little while ago my family and I moved to Kentucky. I was really upset because I was leaving all my friends and extended family behind. Kentucky was very different from what I was used to. The first time we went to church, I saw that there weren’t very many people there. When I realized how small my branch was, I decided that instead of thinking bad about it, I would do something about it.
The next day, my mom and I went to the store. Before we left the house, I grabbed a stack of pass-along cards. When we got to the store, I got a candy bar and went to check out. The cashier scanned the candy, then handed it to me. I handed it back. She looked confused and said, “You just paid for this, ma’am.”
I said, “I know, but I’m giving this to you as a gift.” Then I put a pass-along card with the candy. She smiled and thanked me. She looked at the back of the pass-along card, where I had written, “Everyone is a child of God.” I walked away with happiness, knowing that even if she didn’t join the Church, I still did something good.
Later that day, I remembered that I left the rest of the pass-along cards by the cash register! The next time we went to the store, I went to ask if they were still there. Then I saw something, and I stopped in my steps. About five of the cash registers had pass-along cards that said, “Everyone is a child of God.” The cashier had passed them out! I felt so happy because of what I did.

1) When I went on my mission to Switzerland in 1950, I had studied the German language in both high school and university for a total of three years. I thought I was well prepared to be a missionary, even though at that time I had not read all of the Book of Mormon. But when I heard the everyday language of the Swiss people and their dialect forms, I was overwhelmed. It became very difficult to apply what I had learned. My companion and I read aloud to each other for an hour each morning from the Max Zimmer German translation of the Book of Mormon, which was written in the old German script. It was difficult at first, but through that reading of the Book of Mormon in German, the rhythm and flow of the language came easier for me and I was soon able to better communicate with the people.
That early morning reading also helped me through the Isaiah chapters of Second Nephi, which can be difficult to understand. In the process, I was introduced to the intriguing and beautiful poetry of Isaiah, to the vision he had of the whole history of man, and to his strong concern for the poor and the widows. It began a life-long study of the whole book of Isaiah, which has been a blessing at many times of spiritual need or of spiritual high points. That reading also opened up to me the way the prophets have of placing things of our life into a perspective that gives them their true meaning in eternity. These openings and beginnings have continued to enrich my understanding of the gospel, of the plan of salvation, of my values and goals, of the meaning of my own life. This all began with that hour my companion and I spent together reading the Book of Mormon to each other in the early mornings in an attic room in Bern, Switzerland. It was not just the language, but also the beginnings of an understanding of the beauty and importance of all scripture that came to me through that experience.