Gospel Story Finder

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Matt: I don’t want to go back to school!
Mandy: I like school.
Matt: Be quiet!
Mandy: Mom, Matt told me to be quiet!
Matt: Tattletale!
Mandy: Mom!
Mom: Matt, did you say something unkind to your sister?
Matt: I don’t like school.
Mom: I guess at your age I didn’t like school much either.
Mandy: You didn’t? How come?
Mom: First, I think Matt has something to say to his sister.
Matt: I’m sorry I got mad at you, Mandy. I’m just grumpy because school’s starting.
Mom: Now come here, both of you. I’ll tell you about how I learned to enjoy school. Then we’ll see what we can do to help Matt feel better.
Matt: Thanks, Mom.

During that same Saturday afternoon leadership meeting, I noticed some youth slip into the meeting and reverently and attentively listen to the teachings and discussion. I was surprised to see them, as those invited to the leadership meeting were adult district and branch council members, and typically youth are not anxious to sit through long additional Church meetings, especially when not directed at them. After the meeting, we went to meet these fine young people and to learn more about them. I was astonished to learn that they had just arrived on a public transportation bus from seven hours away. They had come straight to the meetinghouse with the desire to feel the Spirit during this weekend district conference. It was obvious that they were full of joy at being in the midst of fellow members of the Church far from their homes in the north of Namibia. Several were new converts, and several were actively preparing to serve missions despite living in a town where there was no organized unit of the Church. They were led by a wonderful returned missionary who radiates the joy of the gospel and is appropriately named Happy. Immediately following the Sunday session of the conference, this impressive group of young people would once again get on a bus for the seven-hour return journey so they could be home in time for school and work on Monday. I marveled at their willingness to journey from so far at great personal sacrifice to hear the word of the Lord and am delighted to know that now in their own town of Ongwediva, we have since organized a branch of the Church.

Brother Cox’s cultural understanding has been an essential part of his ethnobotanical research. When his mother died of cancer in 1984, he decided to study how plants can be used to cure diseases. Later that year, he moved to Western Samoa to study the traditional medicine of Samoan healers. Brother Cox believed that by listening to the healers, who use plants to treat all types of illnesses, he could be guided to plants with medicinal value. He wanted to preserve the healers’ knowledge before the profession died out and the rain forest plants were all destroyed.
Many of the plant species Brother Cox has identified have been proven to fight diseases. One is a tree bark Samoan healers have been using for centuries to treat viruses. From it, researchers have extracted prostatin—which the National Cancer Institute has found slows the growth of the HIV virus in healthy cells. The tree from which prostatin is extracted grows only in an isolated area of Samoa—an area that was nearly logged.
If prostatin is marketed, Samoan people will receive half of the profits. This agreement to protect the rights and property of an indigenous people is the first of its kind.

I thought about you a lot on Christmas Day. I imagined you and your mom and dad around the Christmas tree, opening presents and later eating turkey and pumpkin pie. Our Christmas in Paraguay was very different, and I thought you might like to hear about it.
We had decided to visit the Ugarte family for Christmas. They live 80 kilometers (50 miles) through the jungle, in a little village called Itakyry. There is a small chapel there, where we could spend the night. In the Ugarte family are a grandmother, a mother and father, and eleven children. Their house has only two rooms and two beds, so we couldn’t stay with them. We packed some small gifts in the back of the car and left early in the morning of the day before Christmas. Two young elders went with us.
In Itakyry, Sister Ugarte was very sad. It was the day before Christmas, and she had no presents to give her children. It took all their money and time just to provide the essential things that such a large family needed. Nothing was left for gifts or even a special treat for Christmas dinner.
All that morning she worked. She washed clothes in the stream and spread them on the bushes to dry. She tended the garden and cooked black beans and rice for their midday meal. After they ate, she rocked the baby and mended clothes. As she worked, she prayed, “Heavenly Father, please send our good friends, the missionaries, here for Christmas. I know it is a long way for them to come, but it would make this day special. Please, Heavenly Father.”
We didn’t know that she wanted us to come. The Spirit just told us that it would be good if we did. A bridge was washed away, so we had to walk the last few miles through the jungle. My goodness, how happy the Ugarte family was when they saw us coming through the trees!
That night we had a very special family home evening in the little wood chapel. The beautiful story of the birth of Christ was told, and testimonies were shared. Then for a long time we sat, watching the silent tropical stars and singing the sacred hymns of Christmas.
The Ugarte children didn’t understand when Grandpa tried to act like Santa Claus the next morning. They did enjoy the simple gifts we passed out, though. There was a small doll for each little girl, sweet-smelling soap for the older girls, and windup toys for the boys. Grandpa had to show the boys how to wind them up, because they had never seen toys like that before.
We missed our own dear grandchildren, but this Christmas in Paraguay was a very special one for us. The best gifts that we can give or receive at Christmastime are love and service.

My parents joined the Church when I was young. We were in a small branch in Australia. My mother played the piano at church. But she could play only a few of the hymns. I was learning the piano too. When I was seven, the branch president asked me to play at church.
When I played the piano, I made mistakes. And when I made a mistake, I used to cry. I was very shy and nervous. But I kept practicing. I wanted to play the hymns well. Now I love to play the piano! I can play all the hymns. On my mission in New Zealand, I served in another small branch. They didn’t have anyone to play the piano. So I played the organ and the piano for a year. Working through my fear was a blessing for me. It allowed me to bless others.

Trisha woke up feeling that something was different. She looked out the window and saw that the ground was covered with a thick blanket of new snow. Quickly she dressed and crossed the hall to wake up Janis. Though her sister was four years older, they were close friends. “Hurry up and get dressed,” she urged Janis. “It snowed during the night, and I can’t wait to build a snowman.”
Janis rubbed her eyes. “It’s too early to get up. Anyway, the snow will be there all day.” She started to turn over to go back to sleep.
“No, some of it will melt.” Trisha pulled on her sister’s arm. “Come on. Get up.”
Slowly Janis sat up in bed. She looked at Trisha and tried to frown but smiled instead. “I can tell you’re not going to let me alone,” she said. “And building a snowman is always a lot of fun.”
Trisha tried to skip breakfast, but Mother insisted they have warm food in their stomachs before going outdoors, so Trisha ate her oatmeal as fast as she could. Then she had to wait for Janis to finish. What if most of the snow is melted by the time we get outside? she worried. But when they left the house, there was still a lot of snow on the ground. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked around.
“Where do you want to build the snowman?” Janis asked.
“Right here in the middle of the front yard. I want everyone in the whole neighborhood to see it.”
They began to scoop up armfuls of snow and heap it in the center of the front yard.
A half hour later, when they paused to rest, their snowman was beginning to take shape.
Trisha glanced toward the house next door. She was a little surprised to see her friend Marny standing at her bedroom window watching them.
She waved to Marny, and her friend waved back. Marny looked very unhappy. Ever since she’d become sick a month ago, she’d been cooped up in the house. Trisha knew that Marny wished she could be outside playing in the snow too. Trisha went over to visit her almost every day, but it wasn’t much fun for either of them—not the kind of fun they had when they played outdoors together.
Trisha wasn’t as happy while she and Janis built the rest of their snowman, because she kept thinking of Marny.
“He’s done,” Janis said after a while. “Of course he’ll need some finishing touches. I’ll go get what we need.”
“Wait!” Trisha burst out. “I know Marny would like to help us make this snowman. She can put on the finishing touches.”
Janis looked surprised. “But Marny’s sick. She can’t come out here.”
“No, but she can still help. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Trisha ran to Marny’s house and knocked on the front door. Marny’s mother opened it and smiled at Trisha.
“Marny’s upstairs,” she said. “She was wondering if you were coming over for a visit today.”
Trisha smiled back, then ran up to Marny’s room. When she left Marny’s house ten minutes later, she had all the things she needed to finish the snowman. There were blue buttons for his eyes, a big black button for his nose, a string of cranberries for his mouth, an old felt hat for his head, and a scarf for his neck.
“He looks almost alive,” said Janis.
“I think so, too,” Trisha agreed. She looked over at Marny’s bedroom window. Marny, of course, had been watching everything that they did, but now she wore a happy smile.

One day when I was 17 years of age, I came across a former neighbor of mine. He invited me to attend his church the next Sunday because he was to be a speaker in the meeting. It was there he gave his two-and-one-half minute talk, and I met the missionaries for the first time. One year later, I was baptized in the swimming pool of the Hong Kong mission home and became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Let me tell you of one of the goals that I made when I was still but a lad. When I heard a Church leader from Salt Lake City tell us at conference that we should read the scriptures, and I recognized that I had never read the Bible, that very night at the conclusion of that very sermon I walked to my home a block away and climbed up in my little attic room in the top of the house and lighted a little coal-oil lamp that was on the little table, and I read the first chapters of Genesis. A year later I closed the Bible, having read every chapter in that big and glorious book.
I found that this Bible that I was reading had in it 66 books, and then I was nearly dissuaded when I found that it had in it 1,189 chapters, and then I also found that it had 1,519 pages. It was formidable, but I knew if others did it that I could do it.
I found that there were certain parts that were hard for a 14-year-old boy to understand. There were some pages that were not especially interesting to me, but when I had read the 66 books and 1,189 chapters and 1,519 pages, I had a glowing satisfaction that I had made a goal and that I had achieved it.
Now I am not telling you this story to boast; I am merely using this as an example to say that if I could do it by coal-oil light, you can do it by electric light. I have always been glad I read the Bible from cover to cover.

One day at the hotel restaurant, another cook, for inappropriate reasons, tried to get dates with some of the waitresses there. He was mad because the waitresses, who were Latter-day Saints, refused to go out with him.
Remembering the missionaries I had met in Milan, I told the cook that the waitresses had a right to turn him down.
“So, are you a Mormon too?” he asked.
Because I liked the principles the missionaries had taught me and because I felt justified in defending the waitresses, I replied, “Yes.”
The next time the cook saw the waitresses, he told them I was a Latter-day Saint. They were excited. When we gathered for lunch, they began asking me questions about the Church in Milan. I told them about the city and that I had met the missionaries there. When our lunch arrived, I reached for a glass of wine on the table.
“What are you doing drinking wine?” one of the waitresses asked.
“Is there something wrong with that?” I said.
“Are you even active?” another one asked.
“In what sense?” I said.
“How were you dressed the day you were baptized?” they asked.
“I don’t remember,” I told them. “I was only a month old.”
They were extremely mad because they thought I was making fun of them. I assured them I wasn’t. I admitted that I wasn’t a member of the Church, but I told them that I liked the Book of Mormon and the gospel principles I had learned. Then I asked how I could learn more about their church.
The waitresses soon introduced me to the missionaries. They could hardly believe it when I finished the discussions and got baptized.

Like Nephi, I was born to parents who taught me the gospel. My family had scripture study and family prayer daily. I listened as my parents testified of Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and each principle of the gospel. Because of these experiences, I never doubted that the Church was true.
But at a certain point, despite being taught the gospel and learning from the good examples of my parents, I realized that while I did not doubt the Church was true, I also did not have a burning testimony of its truthfulness. And although I had dreamed of going on a mission my whole life, I knew I would need to know for sure that the gospel was true.
Shortly before turning 18, I started to attend a ward missionary preparation class. I also started to keep a journal.
One day in the missionary preparation class, we had a lesson I will never forget. The subject was “The Book of Mormon—the Heart of Missionary Work.” The teacher showed us a video with young people throughout the world bearing their testimonies of the Book of Mormon and the experience of one young man who was undecided about going on a mission until he asked of God.
The teacher then asked us to bear our testimonies. The Spirit could not be restrained. I realized that the Book of Mormon had blessed my life. However, I also realized I had never prayed and asked God about the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon or about Joseph Smith’s First Vision.
Several days later I was reading the Book of Mormon and decided to put Moroni’s promise to the test (see Moroni 10:3–5). I knelt down and poured out my soul to God. I didn’t know how the answer would come or when I would receive it, but I trusted that He would make these things known unto me in His own time.
When I stood up, I felt a desire to write in my journal. I opened my journal and read the last entry, which was from the previous Sunday after my missionary preparation class. When I read my own words, which described how I had felt, a peaceful feeling came over me that took possession of my whole body. With great certainty I felt in my heart the words, “You already know; you already know.”
I knelt down again and thanked Heavenly Father for answering my prayer. I had received an answer that confirmed what I had believed my whole life.
Now I can boldly testify that Joseph Smith saw the Father and the Son and that the Book of Mormon is true. Knowing that I knew, I was able to serve full-time in the Peru Piura Mission. On my mission, I saw how the Lord answers the prayers of all those who humbly seek the truth. And for this I will always be grateful.

John Sonnenberg, a great Regional Representative, related this experience as a young dentist. They had seven children, all young, and only one car. When his wife went to town she had to take the bus. One day she and the seven children were waiting for the bus. When the bus stopped, the children and Sister Sonnenberg boarded. She put her token in and then stood and put one token in the box for each of her seven children. The bus driver was amazed, and he said, “Lady, are these all your children, or is this a picnic?”
She responded, “They are all my children, and it’s no picnic!”

I wish to express my deepest heartfelt thanks to the New Era, the members of my ward, and my best friend, Shirley Beo, for showing me the way to Heavenly Father.
I live in Myrtle Creek, Oregon, and met Shirley in the seventh grade. Neither of us really fit in at school. She had just moved to Oregon from England, and I was a social outcast. My life up to then had been rough, but Shirley seemed to turn me around. It wasn’t until five years later that I asked Shirley to pick me up for church.
I must tell you how shocked I was to feel Heavenly Father’s Spirit so strong. The members of the Myrtle Creek Ward accepted me as one of their family, and I have never met a bishop as terrific as the bishop of our ward, David Antis, Sr. Two months later my parents, both of whom are nonmembers, allowed me to be baptized. My life was turned around from then on.
I am now assistant to the president in our priests quorum, and the oldest and one of the most active youth in our ward. I play Church basketball and volleyball and am in top form for school. Last quarter I pulled my first 4.00 report card.
I wish to thank all the people who have helped me, and also the New Era for all the encouraging articles.
Robert RussellMyrtle Creek, Oregon

A couple of weeks ago, my friend’s 12-year-old sister passed away. Mili had suffered brain damage at birth. She never spoke or walked or did things for herself.
I helped care for Mili for a long time. When I was notified of her death, I couldn’t be comforted. Then I remembered learning that when we are resurrected and return to the presence of the Lord, we enjoy perfect health and have a perfect understanding. This knowledge comforted me greatly.
I wanted to console her family, but I didn’t know how to share the peace I felt with them—especially since they are not members of the Church. Then it came to me to look in the Liahona. I randomly chose an issue, and the First Presidency Message was “The Faith of a Child,” by President Thomas S. Monson (see Liahona, August 1998, 2–6). He told of the death of a 10-year-old girl. He spoke of Jesus Christ’s beautiful message: “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:14). It was exactly what I needed. I found a way to express consolation to her family.
I’m extremely grateful and happy to be a Latter-day Saint and to be able to read the Liahona (Spanish).

A translator in the Philippines discovered another problem. He completed his translation of the Gospel of John, printed it, and gave some copies to the tribe he was with. Nobody liked it, and nobody read it. After some investigation, he found that the native language had two forms for stories, one for fiction and one for true stories. In his translation, he had used the fictional form. He redid the translation in the other form, and the new version was a success.

Remember that Heavenly Father answers our prayers in the way that is best for us. It may not be the answer that we want, but it is always the right answer. I remember my Primary graduation. Back then, we wore bandalos (felt bands worn around the neck and that emblems and awards were attached to), and my Primary teacher told me that I needed to wear mine. I couldn’t find it! My mother told me to pray about it, so I knelt and asked Heavenly Father for help. I soon received my answer. The Spirit told me to look underneath my dresser drawer. When I reached up under it, I found my bandalo caught on a sliver of wood. I never would have looked there if I hadn’t prayed for help. We need to always remember that if we ask, we shall receive (see Matt. 7:7–8). If we ask Heavenly Father for guidance, the Spirit will whisper to us what we should do.

Because of physical health problems, when I was about a year into my mission, I had to go home for a little bit. But before I left, one of the other sisters told me, “Be home for Christmas. This is your home.”

I made that a goal. I knew the mission field was where God wanted me to be, and I really wanted to do what He asked, feel the joy I’d felt before, and spend my Christmas experiencing miracles as a missionary.

I returned to my original assignment in the first week of December. God helped me jump back into the work, and it was such a good Christmas season. It was service-oriented and Christ-centered, just how it’s supposed to be. Sometimes we get caught up in the material aspects of Christmas, but that’s not the point. The point is that Jesus Christ was born for us, lived for us, and died for us because He loves us.

I loved having Him be the center of my life during my mission because it helped me feel closer to Him, and I got to share that gift with other people too. We were teaching a woman who really wanted her family to come over for Christmas because she hadn’t seen them in a while. We cleaned up her house, set up her Christmas tree, and watched the Church video “The Christ Child” with her.

Later she told us, “I got to have Christmas because of you sisters. I wouldn’t have had my family over if you hadn’t helped me.” It really touched my heart. I was so grateful that God let me experience that.

In the future, I want to make my Christmases more about Christ and be more involved in Light the World. That’s how we can be more like Him: by serving more and being outward-focused.

Mary M., from Colorado, USA; served in the Arizona Mesa Mission

As Brother Nakamura gained experience in the Church, the idea of being sealed in the temple and of serving the Lord in that sacred building grew in his heart. Then, in 1973 (about seven years before the Tokyo Temple was dedicated), the Nakamura family had the opportunity to travel to California to be sealed in the Los Angeles Temple.

While traveling to the temple, they almost missed some airline flights and even wondered whether their airplane would arrive safely. But their prayers for a safe journey were answered. Brother Nakamura says he realizes now how important that trip was. “My main goal after that was to spend time in the temple, especially serving with my wife.”

Shortly after President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, was called as a General Authority, he went to Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) for counsel. President Packer recalled:
“He listened very carefully to my problem and suggested that I see President David O. McKay [1873–1970]. President McKay counseled me as to the direction I should go. I was very willing to be obedient but saw no way possible for me to do as he counseled me to do.
“I returned to Elder Lee and told him that I saw no way to move in the direction I was counseled to go. He said, ‘The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning.’ I replied that I would like to see at least a step or two ahead. Then came the lesson of a lifetime: ‘You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you.’”2

One day my missionary companion and I received a phone call from a ward mission leader. He told me there was a woman who was dying and wanted the elders to give her a blessing. I immediately felt uncomfortable but said we would do it. As I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but think, Bless someone who is dying? What kind of blessing do you give to someone who is about to die?
Before we left I knelt down and prayed. I asked Heavenly Father to help me exercise my priesthood.
We met the ward mission leader outside the house where the woman was staying. He told us they hadn’t expected her to live through the previous night.
The mother led us to the room where her daughter was. She knocked on the door and said, “Honey, the elders are here to give you a blessing.” As she opened the door, I caught my first glimpse of the woman.
My heart ached as I saw her lying on the bed. She was a woman in her mid-40s and completely bald due to medical treatment. She slowly opened her eyes, and I smiled as kindly as I could.
It was decided that my companion would anoint her and I would seal the anointing.
My mind raced as I tried to think of what to say, but nothing seemed right. My companion finished, and I looked at her, so frail looking, so weak. What am I going to do? I thought. Just bless her was the reply to my silent question.
I felt a great calm come over me as I laid my hands upon her head. I called her by name, stated my authority, and paused. Then the Spirit took over. Words flowed to my mind as I blessed her. Where was all this coming from? It was amazing. Never before had I given a blessing like this.
I closed in the name of Jesus Christ, took my hands off her head, and wiped my eyes. I had started crying almost as soon as I had begun. She took my hand in hers and whispered, “Thank you.”
“Thank you” was all I could say in return. Everyone in the room was crying. The mother said, “You can feel the Spirit so strongly.” The woman’s sister took me aside and said, “Thank you. She has been so scared. That was exactly what she needed to hear.” As I left I thought about what had happened. I should have remembered that blessings don’t come from men. They come from God through men. That blessing was exactly what she needed to hear because Heavenly Father knew what she needed.

When I was about six years old, I had an adventure I’ll never forget. Mom and Dad decided to raise chickens and sell the eggs to earn money. Every day Mom or Dad would take me to the chicken coop to gather eggs. One day Mom needed my help.
“Bobby, I need two eggs for a cake I’m making,” Mom said. “I know we already gathered the eggs today, but do you think you could go and find two more for me?”
“I will, Mom,” I said. “I’ll find those eggs for you.”
This was the first time I had searched for eggs by myself. It made me feel important. Off I went to begin my search. I went inside the chicken coop, first looking in all the corners because that’s where Dad usually found eggs. But there weren’t any. I peered into a nesting box—there was an egg! I was reaching for it when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rooster enter the chicken coop. My throat went dry. In my excitement to gather eggs, I had forgotten about the roosters.
We had big white roosters that didn’t like people. They would chase us and peck us with their sharp beaks. Usually Dad or Mom was with me and would chase them away. But now no one was there to help me.
“Stay there, rooster. Just stay there,” I muttered under my breath as I backed toward the door, keeping my eyes on the rooster. I carefully moved past the rooster until I got to the doorway. The rooster’s bright eyes watched me, but I thought I could get away by backing out and running to the house.
I turned, and outside I saw two other roosters facing me. I was surrounded! If I went back in, the two would follow me. If I tried to run, they would all chase and attack me. I didn’t know what to do. Tears filled my eyes. No one was around to help me—except Heavenly Father.
Mom always said if I needed help, I should kneel and pray and Heavenly Father would be there. Even though the roosters were surrounding me, even though they were coming closer, I dropped to my knees. Trembling, I began to pray.
“Heavenly Father, please help me get away from these roosters. Don’t let them peck me. Please make the roosters go away.”
I ended my prayer, wiped my tears, and slowly got to my feet. As soon as I stood up, a sound came from my mouth: “Putt putt putt … putt putt putt,” like the sound a tractor makes. It surprised me. The roosters stopped, looked startled, and suddenly turned their tails toward me and ran away.
I hadn’t thought to make the sound myself. I knew the Holy Ghost had put the idea into my mind. Heavenly Father had answered my prayer. I was safe. I quickly gathered two eggs and then hurried to the house to tell Mom what had happened. She was proud of me for remembering to pray when I needed help.
I was happy that I could help Mom with an important job, and I was even happier to know that Heavenly Father is always near and will always hear and answer our prayers.