Gospel Story Finder

Moira hummed softly as she and Mamá walked out of the chapel. Church had just ended.
”Hi, Moira,” said President Scott. Richard G. Scott was the mission president in Argentina, where Moira lived. “Would you be willing to give a talk in district conference next month?”
Moira swallowed. She was just 12 years old, and she had never given a talk before! “I could try,” she said.
President Scott smiled. “Thank you! You will do great.”
On the way home from church, Moira’s heart was beating fast. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she said.
“Heavenly Father will help you,” said Mamá. “He has helped you do hard things before, hasn’t He?”
Moira would have to be brave to speak at district conference. But she knew she could do it with Heavenly Father’s help. For the next few weeks, Moira worked hard on her talk. She wrote down what she would say. Then she practiced saying it out loud.
Finally the day came for her talk. Moira sat in the front and looked out at all the people in the chapel. There were so many!
Then Moira spotted someone waving at her. It was Carmen! Moira waved back. Seeing her friend in the crowd made her feel a little better.
When it was her turn, Moira stepped up to the microphone. She took a deep breath. Then she gave her talk. Her voice was shaky at first. But she could feel the Holy Ghost helping her. At the end, she shared her testimony. “I know that Jesus lives and loves us. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
After the meeting, everyone went outside for a picnic lunch. Carmen found Moira and gave her a hug. “You did great!” she said.
“Thanks! I was scared, but Heavenly Father really helped me.” Moira smiled. She had done something she had never done before, and that made her a pioneer.

One cold winter morning he arose at 5:00 A.M. so that he could get in some early morning practice at the gym. Hearing him move about the house, I too arose.
While he showered, I cooked his breakfast. I put more slices of bacon in the frying pan than would have been allowed had his mother been there to supervise. Three eggs soon sizzled in the pan. Toast was in the toaster. I then blended some milk, ice cream, and protein powder (I had heard that such powder contained “rebounds”). He seemed most pleased when I placed such delicious food before him. As he ate, I sat and looked on.
Washing down the last piece of toast with the protein milkshake he said, “Got to go, pops.”
As we both stood, I said, “Could we just take a minute to kneel down and pray together?”
Without responding with words, he quickly knelt. Kneeling very near him, I spoke for the two of us. I thanked the Lord for such a son and expressed my gratitude for the love that bound the two of us together.
After many heartfelt words, we arose from our knees. Feeling so close to him, I embraced him. Then before he knew what was happening, I pulled his head down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
He stepped back and grinned and said, “Gee, pops, I wonder how many other Provo High players got a kiss from their father this morning.”
I struck him on the arm and said, “Get out of here or there will be at least one Provo High player who will get a kick in the pants this morning.”
I stood at the window and watched him until he had disappeared across the snow-covered landscape.

For the past three years I have been trying my hardest to make varsity cheerleader in my high school. I thought that I had everything going for me, and I thought that I would make it this time. I was absolutely crushed when I found out that I hadn’t. Then I happened to find a January 1973 New Era on my sister’s desk. It was opened to an article by Margie Christiansen called “Can a Loser Really Be a Winner?” As I read it I felt that it was speaking to me, and I was depressed no longer. That article really helped me to see the light and was the answer to a prayer. I’m a winner now, and always will be.
Kathy PorterSimi Valley, California

The war over, Alexandria planned to return to her parents. But she became ill, spent two weeks in a hospital, and missed her train. That was a blessing, she now realizes; returning Russians faced great struggles, and living conditions were much better in Germany than in Russia. While living in a displaced-persons camp in 1945, Alexandria met a handsome American soldier on a blind date. After months of courtship, they were married, and two years later Sergeant Ronnie Graybeal brought his young bride to the United States.

Several weeks after the experience with the apples I set out to join my friends in the wooded area close to home, anticipating that we would devise some activity or game to play. As I approached them, they were huddled together. I saw smoke rising in the air above them and recognized the aroma of burning tobacco. One of them had obtained a packet of cigarettes, and they were smoking. They invited me to join them, but I declined. They persisted, suggesting that my reluctance to participate was a sign of weakness. Their taunts turned to ridicule, combined with condescending remarks. But nothing they could say or do could persuade me to change my mind. I had not been raised with a knowledge of the restored gospel and knew nothing of the Word of Wisdom, but I was restrained by a feeling within that I should not participate with them.
As I walked home reflecting on the decision I had made, I felt good inside. Although my expectations for the day had not materialized and I would have to find a way to occupy my time without my friends, I had discovered something about myself—about the source of real happiness and the invigoration that results from making the right decision, whatever the circumstances or outcome may be.

It was while he was announcing high school basketball games as a college freshman that his wife first met him. June Dixon was still attending high school in nearby Spanish Fork when someone introduced her to him at a game.
They were married on 24 June 1952, while both were attending BYU. It was the height of the Korean War, and he was in the Utah National Guard, expecting his unit to be called to active duty at any time. But while other, closely related units went, his was never activated. At that time, a limited number of young men were being called on missions because of the war, and Dallin was not among them; the quota in his ward was filled.
“I think he’s always wished that he had enjoyed that opportunity. But later he was stake mission president in Chicago. And he was a good one,” his wife comments.

Wendy Feliz, 14, and her twin brother, Wellington, do not have the luxury of being able to talk with their mother. Wendy and Wellington are both deaf.
Wendy and Wellington both know that their mother loves them. She takes excellent care of them and kisses them every day. But they can’t really talk to her in any significant way because their mother only speaks Spanish. Both Wendy and Wellington know American sign language and can read and write only in English.
A few months ago, Vanessa Bruno came into their lives. Vanessa had returned from her mission and had just been called as the Young Women president in the Manhattan Deaf Branch. Vanessa is originally from Colombia and, of course, speaks Spanish. Having lived in the United States for half a dozen years, she also speaks English. And she has learned sign language, so she can talk with Wendy and Wellington. As a new YW president, Vanessa was visiting every girl in the deaf branch. When she came to Wendy’s house, it soon became clear to everyone that Vanessa was something of a miracle. For the first time, Wellington and Wendy could talk with their mother. Wellington wanted to know why they were born deaf.
Vanessa said, “He began to ask questions about the family. Why are they deaf? Why was he losing his vision? Their mother began to explain that her father’s family have people that are deaf and blind. She said she was so grateful I was there because I can let them know how much she loves them and how grateful she is that the missionaries came to their house.”
Through Vanessa, their mother was able to tell them stories about their great-grandfather from Puerto Rico, the one who had 43 children. Wendy explains, “My mother spoke it in Spanish to Vanessa. Vanessa interpreted and told me the story. She changed it from Spanish to English and helped me write it down and everything. That’s the first time I had heard that story. Wow, I couldn’t believe it. I was quite shocked. I really liked it a lot to have Vanessa talk to my mother and interpret for me.”
Wendy and Wellington were baptized more than two years ago after being taught the gospel by missionaries. Wendy says, “I felt wonderful. I felt proud to be a daughter of Heavenly Father. I didn’t know that I was a daughter of God until then. I felt chills. All the sins in my life were just washed away.”
Through the gospel, Wendy is learning more about her family here on earth and about being part of a great eternal family in the gospel.

Neal A. Maxwell said, “God does not begin by asking us about our ability, but only about our availability, and if we then prove our dependability, he will increase our capability!”1
When we were called to help start service missions in the UK and Ireland, in the middle of what became a year of lockdowns and self-isolation, the obstacles seemed overwhelming. But we embraced the new reality of virtual meetings. This increased our capacity to meet leaders and members without having to travel the long distances that this calling would have required. We have seen many blessings due to making ourselves available, giving all that we can to this exciting new chapter of the Church in the UK and Ireland.
Across the 47 stakes, and 333 wards and branches, we have been welcomed by ward councils, delivered youth firesides, presented fifth-Sunday lessons to Relief Society and priesthood, spoken in sacrament meetings, participated in lessons, and joined coordinating councils. We have had the pleasure of meeting with individual missionaries and their families, as we shared the good news about service missions.
Bishop Dann from the Nottingham 4th Ward wrote to us after one such meeting and said, “Thank you very much for joining us for our ward council meeting last night. Speaking personally, I felt the Spirit very strongly reinforce to me that service missions are a fantastic opportunity for those that are unable to serve teaching missions. I hope that the number of service missionaries can grow in the coming years. I can see it is good for those that serve, good for those that are served, and good for the Church in general.”

Sasha K., age 11, Moscow, Russia
Two years ago a new boy joined our class at school. He was unkind to others. Everyone started to dislike him and be unkind to him. It seemed to make him sad, so I didn’t do what the others did. Several of my friends noticed and followed my example. I believe that if I do what God wants me to do, I will be happier and safer. I believe that if I have courage and speak my mind, I will find friends who will like me just the way I am.

The courage of a military leader was recorded by a young infantryman wearing the gray uniform of the Confederacy during America’s Civil War. He describes the influence of General J. E. B. Stuart in these words:
“[At a critical point in the battle,] he waved his hand toward the enemy and shouted, ‘Forward men! Forward! Just follow me!’ …
“… With courage and resolution [they followed] after him like a wide raging torrent,” and the objective was seized and held.

Years ago, when our six children were young, we decided we wanted to make general conference more meaningful to us. We talked about how important it is to watch conference with clear minds and rested bodies. Conference is an important time to receive instruction from our current prophets. So we set a goal not to plan anything extra for a few days before conference or during conference weekend. We blocked out those days on our calendar, and each of us committed not to schedule extra activities on those days.
If you choose to take a similar approach, it will be unique to your family and your situation, but our family defined “extra activities” as attending school activities, having neighborhood children come over, doing things with friends away from the house, having parties or dinners with friends or relatives, doing projects or yard work in between or during conference sessions, saving school projects until the last minute, and accepting extra assignments at work.
When the week before general conference arrived, it was sometimes hard to say no to these activities, but most of the time our family members cheerfully made the right choices to meet our goal. We found that our younger children wanted to be part of general conference. I think it was because we talked about the importance of conference over and over throughout the week before.
I am happy to report that keeping our schedule simple the days before and during general conference completely changed our family’s experience. Our hearts and minds were prepared for conference. Our time was not cluttered with extra activities, so we could feel the Spirit as we sat and listened to the words of counsel from our leaders.
We have stuck to our goal conference after conference because it fills our home with peace. Though several of our children no longer live at home, we encourage them to still clear their calendar the few days before and during conference, as we do at home. We also try to schedule a time to watch a session of conference together as an entire family. I am hoping that as our children marry and have children of their own, they will continue to place a high importance on protecting their conference experience by clearing their calendars.

A few years later, while Patrick was at his second boarding school in England, a powerful storm blew in from the Irish Sea. The resulting storm surge flooded 5,000 homes in the surrounding area. Patrick and his classmates were called upon to help with the massive cleanup.
“I still remember the weight of the sodden carpets and the stench of it all,” he says. “But I remember digging in and getting the work done with my fellow school friends. And I remember the people and their gratitude.”
That experience was perhaps Patrick’s first glimpse into the mutual blessings of rendering and receiving service. Later, he realized that his teenage feelings of insecurity had left him “while I was involved in this great effort to assist our neighbors.”

Even before Sister Tintí became a Latter-day Saint, “she always tried to teach us moral principles,” recalls her twenty-year-old daughter Reyna. Sister Tintí had accepted the good she found in the religion of her ancestors, but she was dissatisfied. “I felt there must be something better, but I didn’t know what it was.”
Rosa de Tintí discovered that “something better” through the help of her eldest daughter, Melida (a child by her first husband), who had joined the Church while living in the United States. Melida sent the missionaries to her mother and her mother’s second family in Guatemala. The Tintí children were baptized in 1978, but because their father did not join the Church, Sister Tintí did not feel free to be baptized until after his death the following year. A year later, in 1980, she received her endowment in the Los Angeles Temple.

The children sang songs, danced, and even put on a skit of “Cinderella” for the girls. Although they couldn’t understand the children, that didn’t slow things down. Seventeen-year-old Elisabeth Farnsworth says, “The language barrier didn’t matter because we were able to communicate through our spirits.”
When the children finished their program, they asked the young women to sing for them. “As we stood to sing ‘I Am a Child of God’ to these children, who didn’t understand English, tears came to my eyes,” says Elisabeth. “I received the feeling that what we sang was true and that, even though we speak a different language and come from different countries, we all are children of the same Heavenly Father who knows what each of us needs. He does love each of his children. These children were away from their families, and they needed to know that they were loved.” The Lord had provided that love through the young women.

Michael gazed at the tiny, soft bed of straw. “I am glad that baby Jesus will have a soft, warm bed for Christmas Eve,” he thought.
For the past week Michael had carefully tucked little pieces of straw into this tiny manger, one piece at a time. Michael thought that it just might be the best Christmas he ever had because now he was old enough to understand what Christmas was all about.
A week ago Mom had given a family home evening lesson about the true meaning of Christmas. She said that Jesus Christ was the greatest gift Heavenly Father gave to the world. Then she presented each child in the family with a small, empty manger and a tiny figure of the baby Jesus.
“For the next week you will each have a chance to give a present back to Heavenly Father,” Mom said.
“How can we do that?” Michael asked.
“Your gift to Heavenly Father will be to serve others,” she said. “Each time you do a good deed or help another person, you may add a piece of straw to your manger. The more kindness you show to others, the softer the manger will be on Christmas Eve.”
“I hope I can get more straw in my manger than anybody else!” Michael thought.
The next day Michael started working to collect straw.
“Mom, can I help you sweep the floor?” Michael asked, when he saw her cleaning the kitchen.
“I’ll help you find your teddy bear,” he told his little brother when he cried for his lost toy.
“I want to shovel some snow too,” he said when his dad went outside to shovel the driveway.
Within a few days Michael’s little manger looked very different. It was stuffed full of straw! But Michael noticed a change in himself too. He started to enjoy doing kind things for others because he knew it was what Heavenly Father wanted him to do. Sometimes he even forgot to add a piece of straw to the manger when he helped.
Michael decided that doing nice things made him feel good inside. On Christmas Eve, as he stood by the soft lights of the Christmas tree, Michael gently laid his tiny baby Jesus in the manger, which was now overflowing with straw.
Michael knew he had done the best he could to show his love for Heavenly Father and Jesus. This was the best Christmas ever.

In my country, most people are Catholic. I go to a Catholic school.
When I was in second grade, my teacher played music while we worked on our activities for the day. One afternoon, she asked if anyone wanted to pick a song to listen to. I was turning eight that year and was preparing for my baptism. The lyrics “I like to look for rainbows” came to my mind. I asked my teacher to play the song “When I Am Baptized” from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My teacher agreed and looked it up.
Soon the song played for everyone in my classroom to hear. At first some of my classmates looked at me strangely, but later I could feel the Holy Ghost in my heart. It filled me with peace.
That day when I left school, I felt very happy that I had shared the gospel with my classmates through my favorite Primary song. I think it was a good way to prepare me to invite my friends to my baptism.
Illustration by Simini Blocker

Janet was new in my class. I knew right away that she wasn’t someone I wanted for a friend because whenever Mrs. Shell said anything to her, she put her finger in her mouth and said, “Duuuuuh,” then laughed as if it were really funny. A lot of other kids laughed too. Mrs. Shell didn’t.
On the playground, Janet was a bully. One day she was pushing a little kid around until a teacher stopped her. When she called the teacher a name, she was sent to see the principal. From then on, it seemed that Janet spent almost as much time in the principal’s office as she did in our classroom.
I stayed away from her because she was always getting into trouble. She didn’t like me, anyway. She couldn’t call me by my name, Esther—she called me Redhead-Wet-the-Bed. I thought she enjoyed being mean.
In January I went into the Merrie Miss class in Primary. There were seven girls in my class, but only six of us came. Janet was the seventh. When Sister Card asked us about Janet, we told her what kind of a girl Janet was. She hadn’t been to church since her family had moved into the neighborhood, so we hadn’t even known that she was a member.
Sister Card went to Janet’s house several times to invite her to Primary, but she didn’t come. Nobody in her family came to church. Sister Card suggested that we try something as a class to see if we could get Janet to come to Primary. We weren’t very eager to do it, because we were all a little bit afraid of her. She was different from us, and we didn’t understand her. But Sister Card said she would help us, so we finally agreed.
We had a hard time deciding what to do. “Maybe we need to try to understand why Janet acts and talks the way she does,” said Sister Card. “That might help us come up with a good idea.”
I knew why she acted and talked like she did. I said, “Her whole family acts and talks like that, even her mother and father. I’ve heard them when I walk past their house.”
“Yes, I suppose they do,” said Sister Card sadly. “Do you think there are any other reasons for her behavior?”
“Maybe she’s lonely,” said Christina.
“Maybe she is,” said Sister Card. “What do you think we could do to help her realize that we like her?”
“Let’s be pixies to her for a week!” said Mandi excitedly.
“That’s a good idea,” Sister Card said, smiling.
Well, we planned to deliver something to Janet every day for a week, beginning on Sunday. It was kind of scary going up to her porch after dark to ring the doorbell and hope we could run and hide fast enough to not get caught. Each night it got to be more and more of a challenge because everyone in her family began watching for us. We decided to reveal ourselves on Saturday and take her a necklace with a little gold heart and a note telling her that we loved her and wanted her to come and be part of our Primary class.
Ringing the doorbell and hiding had been fun, but meeting Janet face-to-face was going to be different. We were all nervous, even Sister Card, because we didn’t know what Janet would do or say. As we stood on the porch, getting ready to ring the doorbell, the door flew open and Joel, Janet’s eight-year-old brother, yelled, “I caught you!”
We must have all jumped a foot in the air. Then we started laughing. Finally Sister Card asked if Janet was home. Joel left us standing on the porch while he went to look for her.
Just when we began to think they had forgotten us, Janet appeared at the door. She looked a little uncertain when she saw all of us standing there.
“Hello, Janet,” Sister Card said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I’m Sister Card, your Primary teacher. You remember me, don’t you? And I think you already know all of these girls from school.”
Janet barely nodded her head.
Sister Card then looked at us expectantly. We had decided earlier that we couldn’t let Sister Card do all the talking, or Janet might think it was only the teacher who wanted her to come to Primary. We looked at each other, and then Kelly said, “We wanted to do something special for you so that you would know that we like you.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling a bit more courageous. “We hope you got all the things we’ve been bringing you.”
Before I could go on, Janet said, “Oh, so it was you guys who were bringing that stuff. I guess you’re trying to bribe me into going to Primary. That’s kind of what they tried to do where we lived before, too, but it didn’t work. I just don’t like to go to church.”
We were all stunned. No one said anything. Janet looked triumphant, like she had just scored a crucial point.
Then Sister Card spoke. “No, Janet, we’re not here to bribe you. We brought you those gifts to let you know that we like you, just as Kelly said. We brought one more today.” She handed Janet the necklace, beautifully wrapped in a small box, accompanied by a card with the note we had all signed.
“Thanks,” Janet said, as she took the gift, “but don’t expect to see me at church.”
And she went inside and closed the door.

When I was growing up, my body struggled with gamma globulin anemia. I had a hard time fighting off germs, so I got sick a lot.
One night I woke up with painful earaches. They hurt so badly that I thought my head was going to explode! I remember my mother and father coming into my room. My mother sat on the side of the bed and cradled me in her arms. Then my father placed his hands on my head and gave me a priesthood blessing. In that blessing, He told me that my Father in Heaven knew me. He was aware of my pain. He would bless me to sleep through the rest of the night.
I soon relaxed, fell asleep, and slept through the night and late into the morning. When I woke up, my ears felt better. But it still took several years before I was completely healed from my illness.
Over the next several years, my father continued to give me priesthood blessings to give me strength. He taught me that those blessings were opportunities for Heavenly Father to speak to me. My sickness became a way for Heavenly Father to help my faith to grow.

A few years ago, when I was a young missionary, our mission key indicators showed areas for improvement. We adopted certain measures to help us become more effective (scripture study, fasting, and prayer).
We once had the experience of knocking on a door in London just when we were about to give up. This happened after a strong urge to try one last time. It turned out to be the right door. A young man, Chris Cook, opened the door and after we had introduced ourselves, he let us in and listened to our message. After this meeting and many others that followed, he became a member of the Church.
Years later, in 2010, he was able to reach me via social media and said: “I must say that when you met me, I had little prospects for the future, and I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. I am very grateful to Jesus Christ and for His Church in my life. I am a bishop now, and that’s even more challenging than serving a full-time mission, but I am grateful to have been called to serve. Following your missionary service here, I went on a mission to Birmingham, then I got married and was called as bishop of the Clapham Common Ward in London. My mother, grandmother, Tina and Cadie—my sisters, and Aaron joined the Church in 2007. I am so happy; you changed my life. As long as I live, I will never forget you. You saved my life.” Chris Cook also served as a stake president.
I saw in those words an expression of the lasting joy that comes from walking in the footsteps of the Lord Jesus Christ.

When I was a bishop, being obedient meant sacrificing to attend the temple. My wife and I were invited to attend general conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. We did not have enough money to make the trip, but we greatly desired to be sealed for eternity in the Lord’s house. We prayed to Heavenly Father and asked Him to provide a way for us to be obedient and answer His invitation to all Saints to go to the temple. We were blessed to find additional jobs. We earned enough to make the trip to Salt Lake City. Kneeling in the temple, all in white, with my wife, Cristina, was one of the most special experiences of my life. Our marriage was different after we had been to the temple and felt the Holy Spirit of the Lord seal us to each other for eternity.