Gospel Story Finder

For example, the witness of the truth of the Book of Mormon came to me as a young man because I developed the desire to be protected from evil by a shield of goodness. It was during World War II. I was a young sailor assigned to the Anacostia Naval Airbase in Washington, D.C.

One of my jobs was to help make training films identifying shapes and outlines of enemy ships and airplanes. These films were made in a large, barnlike structure containing a big flat stage and filled with models and outlines and forms and other devices.

Most of the time we were very busy, but there came a time toward the end of the war when we went for weeks without an assignment. Eventually, all the other personnel on this job were assigned to other tasks, but for some reason, I was left alone in the building, I guess to guard the equipment.

At first, I enjoyed my freedom. It was great to have nothing to do. All the electricity in the building was turned off with the exception of one outlet into which was plugged a small lamp, which sat on the corner of a table. There was a hard wooden chair where I could sit if I cared to. All the rest of the great building was in darkness. So for a few days I opened the door to the outside light and sat in the doorway on the old chair and thoroughly enjoyed myself. But before long I became immensely bored.

I had been raised in the Church by careful parents who had taught me the gospel, but I had never read the Book of Mormon completely through for myself. One day as I sat idle, I decided that this was an opportune time for me to read it. So that afternoon I brought my small serviceman’s Book of Mormon from my room and, desiring privacy, went inside the building and turned on the little light by the table and began to read. I remember how I was struck by those first words, “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents. …” (1 Ne. 1:1.)

As the days went by, I read every word. My soul, programmed as it was to goodness and truth, began to respond to the testimonies of the prophets. I had never had such an experience! I read slowly, prayerfully, savoring every word, wishing that it would never end. I had feelings in my heart that I had never been conscious of before. And when at last I read the admonition of Moroni at the end of the book, I felt a great desire in my heart to test his words, to ask for spiritual verification even greater than what I was then feeling. I remember shutting the doors of that vast building and locking myself in, then kneeling in the darkness on the cold cement floor, my forehead resting against the hard wooden seat of the old chair, and telling the Lord that I believed the words of Moroni, and asking him to strengthen my belief into knowledge.

I shall never forget what happened; I have felt it many times since. I became aware that I was surrounded by a power beyond myself, which came over me and through me. It was all around me, calm, clear, and indescribably powerful. It seemed white and delicious to me, like the fruit of the Tree of Life which Nephi told of. (See 1 Ne. 8:15.) It filled me completely and did not leave me for days after. It was not shocking or disturbing in any way, as is the power of evil, but was sweet and assuring to my soul. I knew that the book was true.

My mind has been much on this topic because of an experience our family has had in the last few months. Our daughter and her husband took a while to find each other, and then, though they wanted children with all their hearts, for a number of years they had difficulty realizing that dream. They prayed and they sought priesthood blessings and medical help and eventually were thrilled to learn they were expecting twins.

Things did not go smoothly, however, and three and a half months before the babies were due to arrive, the mother-to-be found herself in the labor and delivery section of the hospital. The doctors at first were hopeful that they could stop the labor for a few more weeks. Quickly, however, the question became, would they even have the 48 hours necessary for medication to prepare the babies’ immature lungs to function?

A nurse came in from the newborn intensive care unit to show the couple pictures of the machines the babies would be hooked up to if they were born alive. She explained the risks for eye damage, for lung collapse, for physical impairment, for brain damage. The couple listened, humbled yet hopeful, and then, despite all the doctors could do, it was obvious that these babies were coming.

They were born alive. First the baby girl and then the baby boy—weighing less than four pounds together—were rushed to the intensive care unit and put on ventilators, with umbilical tubes and intravenous lines and constant attention. They can’t have too much light, they can’t have too much noise, their chemical balances need constant monitoring, as the hospital, with millions of dollars of equipment and many wonderful doctors and nurses, attempted to replicate the miracle of a mother’s womb.

There are multitudes of little miracles every day: a collapsed lung heals and then, despite the odds, continues to function properly; pneumonia is beaten back; more deadly infections invade and are overcome; IV lines go bad and are replaced. After two and a half months, the baby boy has gained two pounds and can breathe with an oxygen supplement. His ventilator is gone, he learns to eat, and his grateful parents take him home with monitors attached.

The baby girl keeps pulling her ventilator tube out, setting off alarms across the nursery. Maybe she wants to keep up with her brother, we think, but her throat closes off each time, and she just can’t breathe on her own. Her throat is so inflamed that at times the respiratory therapists have great difficulty reinserting the tube, and she almost dies. Her normal progress is stymied by her continued dependence on the ventilator.

Finally, after her baby brother has been home for two months, the doctors feel they are forced to suggest surgery for her—a surgery that will allow her to breathe by opening a hole in her throat, a surgery that might solve the stomach problems by opening a hole in her side, but a surgery that will impact her little body for many more months and maybe for the rest of her life. As the parents wrestled with this decision, a beloved aunt sent a message to all the family. She explained the situation—the critical issue of timing, the importance of getting off the ventilator—and suggested that we join our faith once again, and in prayer and fasting ask for one more miracle—if it was the Lord’s will. We would culminate our fast with a prayer the evening of December 3.

Let me read from a letter that was sent to the family the morning of December 4. “Dearest Family, Wonderful news! Blessings from the Lord. Our heartfelt thanks for your prayers and fasting in behalf of our little girl. Yesterday morning she came off the ventilator and has been off for 24 hours at this writing. To us, it is a miracle. The medical staff are still guarded about predicting the future, but we are so grateful to the Lord and to you. We are praying that this will mark the beginning of the end of her hospital stay. And we even dare to hope that she’ll be home for Christmas.”

She did make it home for Christmas, and both babies are currently doing just fine. Our family has had its own “parting of the Red Sea,” and we are prepared to testify that there is today, as there was yesterday and will be forever, a “God of miracles” who loves His children and desires to bless them.

One group of friends found an unusual way to reach out to each other. They came from different family situations and backgrounds, but they all cared about each other and wanted to strengthen their friendship.

One of their friends was having a particularly hard time at home. She told them she sometimes wished she could disappear but kept her feelings hidden behind a smile because she was worried that others would judge her.

Her friends wanted her to know that she was safe with them and that the world was a better place because she was in it. So they came up with a plan: they would wear safety pins. Each of them wore a safety pin on their clothes each day to remind her, and each other, that they were committed to creating a safe, secure, trustworthy friendship—and that they wanted each other to stick around.

Years later, this young woman still remembers her safety-pin friends and is grateful for the security she felt knowing that they cared about her.

Thank you for doing an article on a deaf person (”Good Vibrations,” Oct. 1993). I really enjoyed it. I’m not deaf myself, but I do know sign language. That article helped me understand the challenges faced by those living in a hearing world.
Nicole MitchellTaylor, British Columbia, Canada

At school my friend asked me to hold his comic book. I opened it and looked at the pictures. I saw violent pictures that made me feel uncomfortable, so I closed the book and gave it back to my friend. It made me feel good to not look at the pictures. I know that I listened to the Holy Ghost.

Hi, I’m Blanch, and I love the piano! Right now, my calling is the pianist of our ward. At home, I play hymns and classical pieces for my family. I have a strong testimony of seminary. When I started going to seminary, I felt like the burdens on my shoulders were lifted. My love for the gospel grows because of the principles I learn in every lesson, and I love how it teaches me how to be a better person.
Blanch T., 15, Cavite, Philippines

At this conference we have seen the release of some faithful brothers, and we have sustained the callings of others. In this rotation—so familiar in the Church—we do not “step down” when we are released, and we do not “step up” when we are called. There is no “up or down” in the service of the Lord. There is only “forward or backward,” and that difference depends on how we accept and act upon our releases and our callings. I once presided at the release of a young stake president who had given fine service for nine years and was now rejoicing in his release and in the new calling he and his wife had just received. They were called to be the nursery leaders in their ward. Only in this Church would that be seen as equally honorable!

The story is told that in ancient Rome a group of women were, with vanity, showing their jewels one to another. Among them was Cornelia, the mother of two boys. One of the women said to her, “And where are your jewels?” To which Cornelia responded, pointing to her sons, “These are my jewels.” Under her tutelage and walking after the virtues of her life, they grew to become Gaius and Tiberius Gracchus—the Gracchi, as they were called—two of the most persuasive and effective reformers in Roman history. For as long as they are remembered and spoken of, the mother who reared them after the manner of her own life will be remembered and spoken of with praise also.

… [When I spoke in other lands,] I could feel the Spirit carrying my words to their hearts, and I could feel “the fruit of the Spirit” bringing back to me their love, their joy, and their faith. I could feel the Spirit making us one.

My next door neighbour Barbara Hall received the message with gladness when missionaries found her door; soon afterwards she invited me to hear that message which I also received with gladness. A short while later our little core of strength increased as Colin and Suzanne Winters and others joined the Church.

When I was investigating the Church, I remember the missionaries teaching me about the importance of partaking of the sacrament after being baptized. This helped me to remember the covenant I chose to enter. I was baptized on Dec. 6, 1988. I will always remember the Sunday that followed because I was then able to partake of the sacrament. I felt joy, simple and sweet joy, peace, and confidence. I felt that I was completely part of this special meeting. My Sundays became different because of being able to come to the table of the Lord. I felt empowered by the covenant and received the promised Spirit of the Lord to start and handle the coming week.
Thirty-five years have passed since then and I think that I rarely missed a sacrament, always making it a commitment to come to sacrament meeting and partake of this special supper.

Where Jane Manning lived, some people treated her poorly because of her skin color. One day, she heard a missionary teaching. Soon she was baptized.
Jane’s family was baptized too. They all wanted to be with the Saints in Nauvoo. So they began their journey.
Jane’s family wanted to travel by boat for part of the trip, but they did not have enough money. So they had to walk 800 miles (1,300 km).
They had to cross a deep stream and sleep outside in the cold. But they were determined to reach Nauvoo. They cheered themselves up by singing as they walked.
Jane’s family walked until their shoes wore out and their feet got hurt. But when they prayed to God for help, He healed their feet.
They helped people they met along the way. They even helped heal a sick child because of their faith.
Finally, Jane and her family reached Nauvoo! When Joseph Smith heard all they had been through, he told Jane, “God bless you. You are among friends now.”

Alma and his sons wanted to make some visits. There were four people in four places they wanted to visit on four days. Each family member could visit one person in one place on one day.
“And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.”
One person visited (and only one) has the same initial as the place they live.
Alma was available to visit only before Ammonihah was visited.
Helaman either visited Zarahemla or saw Omner, not both.
Zarahemla was visited by Helaman or Corianton.
Shiblon visited on Wednesday or Friday. He didn’t go to Jershon nor Gideon and didn’t see Amulek.
Hagoth was visited on Tuesday or Friday.
Gideon isn’t where Hagoth lives, and it wasn’t visited on Wednesday or Thursday.
Helaman went on his visit right after the person who visited Ammonihah.
Jershon was visited either on Friday or by Alma.
Amulek and Zeezrom were visited on consecutive days.
Use the chart to keep track of who saw whom when and where. Write your answers in the table below.
Alma visited Hagoth on Tuesday in Jershon; Shiblon visited Omner on Wednesday in Ammonihah; Helaman visited Zeezrom on Thursday in Zarahemla; Corianton visited Amulek on Friday in Gideon.

“Water for life” reads a large sign fastened to the side of Sataua Primary School on the Samoan island of Savai’i.
Those are words many Pacific Islanders understand all too well as they’re often faced with the reality of little to no fresh water for drinking, cooking, or bathing.
They are also words Elder Brian and Sister Lori Bott understand all too well. As a senior missionary couple serving in Samoa, they frequently encounter families, schools, and entire villages that struggle to find and have enough clean water.
With the Botts’ help, that all recently changed for a school and several villages on Savai’i.
It was there that the Vaisigano Second District, the Samoan Ministry of Health, and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came together to provide two 10,000-litre water tanks for Sataua Primary School, and an additional 206 2,000-litre water tanks for homes in the surrounding villages of Fagasa, Sataua, and Papa Sataua.
That means approximately 900 villagers and 1,000 students now have a reliable source of clean water.
“For a school, the ability to capture and store this water is the difference between staying open and closing down,” said Elder Bott.
“Water is part of it, but anything to do with the health or education of the Samoan people and to let them know of God’s love for them—that’s what we’re about,” said Sister Bott.
As humanitarian missionaries, that’s their objective every day and especially each time they take the one-hour ferry ride from the island of Upolu to Savai’i.
Sometimes that love means classroom desks so students can sit and have a surface to write on or shelves to make library books more accessible. At other times it means having floor tiles installed to make school rooms more sanitary and easier to clean.
This time it was the Botts joining with school and village leaders to cut a violet ribbon wrapped around 20,000 litres of water.
“We know how important it is to have clean water, and we feel so blessed to be just a small, small, little part of the Church’s efforts to bring water—to bring blessings to the people of Samoa,” said Elder Bott.

Our ward had just been divided, so when the bishop asked to see me, I was sure I would receive a calling in the new ward. I had been working with the young women and loved them. They were so receptive to the gospel and such a joy to teach. Surely the Lord would allow me to continue teaching them.
To my surprise, the bishop said the Lord wanted me to teach in Primary instead. Surely he was mistaken! He assured me, however, that he had fasted and prayed and felt strongly about my calling. I loved children, but what did I know about teaching them?
For 15 years of marriage the only sadness my husband and I shared was that the Lord had not blessed us with children. Our efforts to adopt had also been fruitless because of our medical challenges.
Trusting the bishop, I accepted the call to teach in the Primary, but in my heart I struggled. I was angry with the Lord for leaving me childless, and I resented this new calling.
“Why, Lord, art Thou asking this of me?” I wondered. “In Thy wisdom, I have been deprived of children of my own. Why should I be asked to teach other people’s children?”
I prayed and struggled and wrestled with the Lord, pleading through my tears for understanding. Finally I decided that since I had accepted the calling, I had better stop feeling sorry for myself and do the best I could.
That is when the blessings came. I quickly learned to love the children, and they learned to love me. I found that their love was great enough to help me fill the emptiness in my life. Soon I couldn’t go down the hall at church without at least two children holding onto my hands and others stopping for a hug as I passed by. In turn, my husband was called as a Scout leader. Before long our home was full of children and teens.

A woman in our community with cancer needed an operation but didn’t have enough money for it. Some of her friends sent out flyers reading, “Will you please help save a life?” to ask for donations. When my little brother, Ben, who is six, read one of the flyers, he got all the money he had and put it in an envelope to give to the woman.
I said, “Why don’t you give just part of your money? Then you would still have some for yourself.”
“Which is more important, keeping some of my money or helping to save a life?” he asked. That really impressed me, and I decided to donate some money, too.
My parents kept saying how good Benjamin was because he gave all the money he had. This made me a little jealous of him because, although I didn’t give all the money I had, I donated more money than Ben!
Then I remembered a scripture story about a poor woman who had only a little money. She gave it all to care for the poor. Some rich people came and gave lots of gold. They were proud of how much money they had given to the poor. But Jesus Christ said that the poor woman had given the most because she gave all she had. (See Mark 12:41–44.)
I was sorry for being jealous of my brother. I felt good knowing we could help raise the money for the operation. Most of all, I was glad my little brother helped me learn an important lesson about giving.

A few years ago, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland shared his feelings about the deep-rooted faith of pioneers who pushed toward the Salt Lake Valley even after the deaths of their children. He said, “They didn’t do that for a program, they didn’t do it for a social activity, they did it because the faith of the gospel of Jesus Christ was in their soul, it was in the marrow of their bones.”
He expressed, with tender emotion:
“That’s the only way those mothers could bury [their babies] in a breadbox and move on, saying, ‘The promised land is out there somewhere. We’re going to make it to the valley.’
“They could say that because of covenants and doctrine and faith and revelation and spirit.”
He concluded with these thought-provoking words: “If we can keep that in our families and in the Church, maybe a lot of other things start to take care of themselves. Maybe a lot of other less-needed things sort of fall out of the wagon. I’m told those handcarts could only hold so much. Just as our ancestors had to choose what they took, maybe the 21st century will drive us to decide, ‘What can we put on this handcart?’ It’s the substance of our soul; it’s the stuff right down in the marrow of our bones.” Or, to put it another way, it is what is written in our hearts!

But one day God helped me deepen my understanding. While studying my scriptures early one morning, the Spirit led me to a few verses found in Romans 8. Verses 16–17 state, “The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God.” I had heard that before. But I continued on and read the next verse which explains, “And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ”. As soon as I read these words, the Spirit bore testimony to me that I am a child of God with a divine purpose here on earth. That sunk in deeper than it ever had before. In that moment it felt as if I were carrying a torch that had just been lit. I could see clearly now that as children of God, we are on a path that not only leads us back to Heavenly Father but also helps us become more like Him. This new understanding began to warm me as well as enlighten my path.

Elder Oaks related an experience he had while visiting southeast Africa. During a crowded fireside in a Church building with only a dirt floor and tin roof, children sat quietly for the entire meeting. These children knew reverence, he said. During a three-year period as he traveled in 21 African nations, Elder Oaks said he never witnessed irreverent behavior.

In 1910 Emmeline was called to serve as the Relief Society’s fifth General President. She continued to inspire the sisters and all Saints to seek learning and to use it for good. In 1913 she selected the phrase “charity never faileth” as the Relief Society motto (see 1 Corinthians 13:8). Emmeline served as Relief Society General President for 10 years and lived to see women’s suffrage guaranteed by the US Constitution. Like Orson Pratt, she exemplified the disciple’s dedication of both heart and mind to God and God’s children.12