Gospel Story Finder

There are many other opportunities to share the gospel. For example, just this summer I received a happy letter from a new member who learned about the restored gospel when an old classmate phoned her to inquire about an illness she was experiencing. She wrote: “I was enlightened by the way he presented himself to me. After [a] few months of learning from the missionaries, I was baptized. My life has improved since then.”10 We all know many whose lives would be improved by the restored gospel. Are we reaching out to them?

I was sitting on a crowded bus one morning, on the way to my typing class at our local education center, when suddenly I heard a voice within me say, There is no typing class today; it’s the half-term holiday. Get off the bus and go see Sister Benson.
I looked about in amazement. Slowly I realized that it really was the half-term holiday, and that the bus was fast approaching the stop near Sister Benson’s home. The voice had been quiet yet clear and unmistakable, so just before the bus pulled away from the stop, I arose and stepped off.
Feeling rather bewildered, I stood on the street corner in front of a grocery store. “What now?” I wondered. Then the impression came: Buy some groceries and take them to Sister Benson.
I looked into my purse. There wasn’t much there. Then I looked up and down the road, wondering if I should just catch the next bus home. But the spiritual direction I had received urged me on: I entered the shop, considered the fact that I was short on money that week and couldn’t do the impossible, and decided that I could buy small amounts of the basic foods—a packet of sugar, a pot of honey, bread, butter, cheese, and one or two other things. These would do. “Do for what?” I wondered. I paid at the cash desk and once again stood outside on the street corner.
Looking in my purse again, I found I had just enough money to get home on the bus. I also remembered that my own kitchen wasn’t too well stocked with food at the moment. “Maybe I’ll just go straight home and have these things for myself,” I thought. But again the Spirit whispered: Take those groceries to Sister Benson. So I walked up the street to her house.
Sister Benson smiled wearily as she opened the door for me. When I told her that I had brought her a few groceries, her eyes filled with tears. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said. But as we talked, I learned that after paying her tithing that week, she had no money left for food at all. How humble I felt!
The experience taught me once again that the Lord is very much aware of our needs. I also learned that he is continually working through his children to provide assistance to those in need, and we never know the moment when he may call on us to do just that.

Jean B. Bingham, former Relief Society General President, describes Elder Kearon as calm under pressure. She recalls a time when she, Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Kearon, and others found themselves stranded abroad during a political uprising. Under Elder Bednar’s direction, Elder Kearon spent hours on a satellite phone working with local officials and Church representatives to create a path for their removal.
“His calm nature, focused efforts, and inspired insights produced a solution that allowed for our safe departure,” says Sister Bingham.

At 12 years old, Elder Ronald M. Barcellos read the Book of Mormon for the first time. When he finished reading, he approached the seminary teacher in his ward and asked if he could start attending seminary classes.
“I attended seminary from age 12 to 18 because I just loved being there and listening to the stories of the Bible and the Book of Mormon,” he said. “I have always felt this love for the gospel, and I just always felt it was true.”
Serving a mission later solidified his faith, and he vowed to always prioritize the gospel in his life.

When I was a baby, I was baptized into the Orthodox Church of Ukraine. Growing up, the fact that I never made the choice to be baptized unsettled me. I started to think that religion didn’t allow me the freedom to choose for myself.
So I eventually stopped believing in God or anything spiritual.
One day, I was talking to my friend who was in Czechia doing a study program affiliated with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She invited me to do the program too. I wasn’t interested originally, but after a while, I decided to check it out.
I liked the school’s overall message of positivity, so I gave in and applied.
But I had no interest in the program’s focus on Jesus Christ.
Or so I thought.
This academy made me live differently than I was used to. First, I learned that I wasn’t allowed to drink coffee on campus!
My freedom was already slipping through my fingers.
Along with that, every morning started with a mandatory devotional. I would mostly sleep through them because I wasn’t interested. I was just there to learn and then live my life the way I wanted to.
But after a while, I noticed the people around me who were taking Jesus Christ’s teachings seriously. In Ukraine, many people only went to church a few times a year, but here, everyone was always talking about Christ. They were kind, good, and positive about life.
I started to wonder what my life would be like if I believed in Him too. Sometimes I even caught myself thinking, “What would Jesus’s perspective be?”
I felt confused. I told one of my friends at the academy about how I was feeling torn. He invited me to try praying about my feelings.
On one foggy morning, I decided to find a quiet place to meditate outside. I don’t know what came over me, but instead of meditating, I gave God the benefit of the doubt. I said, “OK, let’s talk.”
And I said the longest prayer of my life.
I just wanted to know if God and Jesus Christ were real.
As I was praying, the sun pierced through the fog. I felt its warmth on my skin and warmth in my heart. I felt like someone’s hand was on my shoulder, telling me They were right there with me.
The message was clear: They were real. They were aware of me.
I also realized something else.
Looking at those who were living the gospel of Jesus Christ, I didn’t see anybody being forced to do things they didn’t want to do or feeling restricted by their faith. I saw them choosing to live like Jesus Christ because they wanted to.
In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Moroni extends his promise through an invitation, not a command: “If ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost” (Moroni 10:4).
I realized I wanted to choose Him too.
From then on, I took learning about Jesus Christ seriously. I accepted missionary lessons. I studied the Book of Mormon. I prayed every day. I even got baptized! (My choice this time!) This was all so new to me, but I felt my heart changing.
I still have a lot to learn, and I am so imperfect, but I always say to myself, “Let’s just try to be like Christ today. Just keep trying.”
Elder Joaquin E. Costa of the Seventy beautifully taught: “At times, having faith in Jesus Christ may seem like something impossible, almost unattainable. We may think that coming unto Christ requires a strength, power, and perfection we don’t have, and we just can’t find the energy to do it all. But … faith in Jesus Christ is what gives us the energy to begin the journey.”
Jesus Christ can change us if we give Him the chance and keep trying. He doesn’t limit our freedom. Instead, He offers us even more through His Atonement: joy, healing, and hope.
We have the freedom to choose Him every day, and I’m grateful for the miracles my choice to follow Him brings into my life.
The author is from Kyiv, Ukraine.

When Cecilia Betancourt began meeting with the full-time missionaries in Tijuana, Mexico, she wasn’t really interested in their message. Rather, she wanted to prove them wrong.
“I was going to prove my point of view—that I knew what I believed and that whatever they were going to teach me was not correct,” Cecilia says. She was so intent on proving her point that she didn’t learn much from the first three discussions.
“But what I do remember is the fourth lesson,” she says. “That fourth lesson was the one that changed my heart.”
That discussion, which centered on keeping the commandments, introduced Cecilia to temples and the doctrine of eternal marriage and families. 1
“When they were showing me a picture of the Salt Lake Temple, the Spirit whispered and said, ‘Ask them about that dream you had when you were small.’” Remembering a room she had seen in her dream, Cecilia asked the missionaries, “Are there chairs in a certain order inside the temple?”
“Yes,” the sister missionaries answered.
“Is there a cushion or something that someone stands behind?” Cecilia asked.
The missionaries, wondering how much information they should share, looked at each other curiously and said, “Yes.”
“Do people dress in white in the temple?” Cecilia asked.
“Yes,” the missionaries said.
Then Cecilia asked, “Behind the person standing in the middle of the room, is there something bright and white that I cannot enter?”
“Yes,” the missionaries answered again.
“At that moment,” Cecilia said, “something told me, ‘This is the place you saw in your dream.’ Then I started crying. I couldn’t hold it in. One of the sisters said, ‘Cecilia, will you prepare to be baptized?’ The Spirit was so strong that I said yes.”

Some thirty-five years ago I was seated in the choir seats of the Assembly Hall situated on the southeast corner of Temple Square. The setting was stake conference. Elder Joseph Fielding Smith and Elder Alma Sonne had been assigned to reorganize our stake presidency. The Aaronic Priesthood, including members of bishoprics, were providing the music for the conference. Those of us who served as bishops were singing along with our young men. As we concluded singing our first selection, Elder Smith stepped to the pulpit and announced the names of the new stake presidency. I am confident the other members of the presidency had been made aware of their callings, but I had not. After reading my name, Elder Smith announced, “If Brother Monson is willing to respond to this call we shall be pleased to hear from him now.” As I stood at the pulpit and gazed out on that sea of faces, I remembered the song we had just sung. Its title was “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say No.” I selected as my acceptance theme “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say Yes.”

I don’t like mushrooms. That smell and texture—I don’t like them at all! But my parents began cultivating mushrooms when I was a child, so we ate them at meals every day. During the harvest season, I would help my parents late into the night. I would measure 200 grams of mushrooms, pack them in a bag, and press the seal on the package. I remember having fun while talking with my family. It was almost like having a family home evening every day.
It also provided income for the family, so we had to help out. But there were two downsides: First, one of my favorite television programs was on at the time we had to work, so I couldn’t watch it. And second, by the time I finished work, my hands would be black from the mushrooms, and it was hard to get rid of the color and smell with soap. When I was a child, I sometimes complained about why I had to help so much every day.
The mushrooms provided a good income for a while, but eventually the prices fell as the number of mushroom farmers increased, and my parents stopped growing mushrooms. I thought that they had only stopped because the prices fell, but I learned a fact that surprised me when I graduated from college.
My parents had started cultivating mushrooms to save college funds for me and my brothers. They had only stopped because they’d reached their target amount. When I found out, I felt ashamed of ever complaining. I hadn’t known that I had been working for my future college expenses. And on top of that, my family had helped me!
I had complained over and over without knowing that we grew the mushrooms for my own scholarship. My complaining was like Laman and Lemuel’s in 1 Nephi 2:12: “And thus Laman and Lemuel … did murmur because they knew not the dealings of that God who had created them.” I’m so glad the Lord knows me well and blessed me, despite my complaining.
I don’t think I’ll ever like eating mushrooms. But if there were no mushrooms, I would actually be a little sad, because I wouldn’t have the opportunity to remember those experiences with my family. Because of them, I learned to value my blessings and trust in the Lord’s plan—and not to complain! So even though I dislike mushrooms, I now appreciate them. They are an important symbol for me to remember my family bonds.

Was it a church project or a school project? Allison Steiner, a Laurel in the Rosepine Second Ward, Alexandria Louisiana Stake, got credit for both, proving that she’s a good manager and worthy of her title of Louisiana’s Miss Future Business Leader of America.
At the state conference, Allison won first place for a community service project she chaired. It involved showing support for the families of servicemen stationed overseas at Christmas. She helped the families tape messages for their loved ones, and entertained the children. Allison also planned the event as a Young Women Value project focusing on “Good Works.”

One day after my doctor told me that I would have to receive physical therapy for months, I went home in tears and asked Heavenly Father, “How long will I have to endure this?” Immediately, it was as if a tender and clear voice told me, “You can’t progress without trials. You still need even more.”
I couldn’t believe that I had received an immediate response to my prayer. At that moment, I was determined to move forward in faith. I decided to resubmit my mission papers and serve God, despite my challenges. A few months later I received my mission call to the Guatemala Guatemala City South Mission! But getting to that point wasn’t easy either. It took a lot of bravery and courage to accept my circumstances, forget myself, and invite others to follow Christ.
My mission was wonderful. I learned to value the principles of the gospel even more, and I found confidence in myself to share my testimony and bring hope to many people who didn’t know where to find it. I felt my heart being changed by Heavenly Father. I had never experienced what it felt like to love total strangers and be willing to give everything I had for them without hesitation until now—walking day in and day out, rain or shine, my feet tired and sore.

As in Christ’s time, some people in our day are not blessed with the actual gift of sight. There was a blind man who, in an effort to sustain himself, sat day after day in his usual place at the edge of a busy sidewalk in a large city. In one hand he held an old felt hat filled with pencils. A tin cup was extended by the other hand. His simple appeal to the passer-by was brief and to the point. It had a certain finality to it, almost a tone of despair. The message was contained on the small sign held around his neck by a string. It read, “I am blind.”
Most did not stop to buy his pencils or to place a coin in the tin cup. They were too busy, too occupied by their own problems. That tin cup never had been filled, even half-filled. Then one beautiful spring day a man paused and added several new words to the shabby sign. No longer did it read, “I am blind.” Now the message read, “It is springtime, and I am blind.” The compassion of human feelings could not now be restrained. The cup was soon filled to overflowing. The coins, however, were a poor substitute for the desired ability to actually restore sight.

“We were so scared. We didn’t know if you’d like us,” said an anglo leader.
“I’ve never known a lot of Lamanites before, and I am proud to be one,” said a Lamanite participant.
The thoughts were being voiced at a testimony meeting concluding a five-day girls camp for Lamanite girls from the Southwest Indian Mission. Also participating were Anglo girls and leaders.
“Sometimes brownskins and whiteskins in our area don’t have the nicest of feelings toward each other,” said a participant, “so we looked forward to this camp so that we could make sure bad feelings didn’t happen in the Church, where we have a real commitment to respect and love each other.”
Besides spirits’ being lifted—many Lamanite girls thrilled at being among the tall fir trees, mountain peaks, and cold streams outside of Farmington, New Mexico—some conversions occurred, and friendships flowered all over the place. It was a worthy goal—elimination of prejudice—and in this instance, a superb way to accomplish it.

The setting and accomplishing of daily goals lead you little by little to your destination. May I give you just a personal example of this? I had finished my qualifying exams and should have been writing my doctoral dissertation, but was not getting to it in a sufficiently serious fashion. One day my chairman called me into his office - hardly ever a pleasant experience - and asked me a very specific question: "Will you write your dissertation this year?" I tried to skirt the question with some very lame excuses. But he kept pressing me. Finally I realized that I had to answer with either a yes or a no. If my answer were "no," I knew that my formal education would be over and that I would never reach my goal, even if I had traversed much of the required road. If my answer were "yes," I knew that I would have to act differently than I had up to that point. I soon realized that he was doing to me what my mission presidents had done. He was trying to get me to make a personal commitment to a specific course of action. When I finally said yes with some conviction, his demeanor changed. He became my mentor instead of my tormentor. "Good," he said, "I will tell you how to do it." Then there came a series of questions: "How many months in a year?" I was a doctoral student and felt that I could answer that one. "Twelve," I answered. He then demanded that I set twelve goals. The next question was: "how many weeks in a month?" To which I answered four. He wanted me to write four goals for each one of the twelve. Then he had me set seven daily goals for each of the four weeks in each month. He knew that if I could complete my goal every single day, that I would complete my dissertation by the end of the year. He then gave me this counsel: "don't go to bed any night until you have completed your daily goal." He was right. I completed each of my daily goals, often without sleep. By the end of the year I was defending my dissertation. It is the constancy of your commitment and personal discipline that bring you to your destinations. The toll required of you is repaid many times over by the fruits of your accomplishment.

I would like to express my deep gratitude to you for your article on being a nanny. Hopefully it will open the eyes of many girls thinking about it.
My first three months as a nanny were spent being interrogated and degraded, being made to feel worthless in any task I tried. As the phone bill rose to over $200 a month I was told I was immature and needed to count on myself, not my family or friends. I had no other means of support or companionship and had to grow up or get out. I couldn’t be a “quitter,” so I promised myself I’d make it through my entire term.
I’ve been here over 11 months. It has taken its toll on me spiritually, emotionally, and physically. At times I didn’t know if I was going to explode or go crazy. I was ready to cry at any moment. I’ve put on over 20 pounds. My total self-image has been shaken.
K. Malaine MarolfStone Mountain, Georgia

Many faithful Latter-day Saints have been warned by the Spirit to prevent injury or death. Among these was President Wilford Woodruff, who said:
“When I got back to Winter Quarters from the pioneer journey [1847], President Young said to me, ‘Brother Woodruff, I want you to take your wife and children and go to Boston and stay there until you can gather every Saint of God in New England and Canada and send them up to Zion.’
“I did as he told me. It took me two years to gather up everybody, and I brought up the rear with a company (there were about one hundred of them). We arrived at Pittsburgh one day at sundown. We did not want to stay there, so I went to the first steamboat that was going to leave. I saw the captain and engaged passage for us on that steamer. I had only just done so when the spirit said to me, and that, too, very strongly, ‘Don’t go aboard that steamer, nor your company.’ Of course, I went and spoke to the captain, and told him I had made up my mind to wait.
“Well, that ship started, and had only got five miles down the river when it took fire, and three hundred persons were burned to death or drowned. If I had not obeyed that spirit, and had gone on that steamer with the rest of the company, you can see what the result would have been (Discourses of Wilford Woodruff, sel. G. Homer Durham, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1946, pp. 294–95).

Maria twirled in the pretty new Sunday dress that her grandmother had made for her. It was pink with white ribbons. It was the prettiest dress Maria had ever had, and she felt very beautiful in it. She smiled at herself in the mirror and twirled again to make the skirt fan out. Maria was excited to go to church on Sunday to show her friends her new dress.
At church Maria liked hearing all her friends say nice things about her dress. In Primary she played with the ribbons on her dress instead of listening to Sister Sánchez’s lesson.
Maria didn’t pay attention to the testimonies people gave in sacrament meeting either. She was busy untying and retying each of the bows on her dress over and over again.
When the meeting was over, she noticed that some people had tears in their eyes as they left the chapel.
“Why are those people crying, Mama?” Maria asked.
“They felt the Spirit today,” Mama said as she wiped away a tear of her own. “And sometimes that brings tears to our eyes. The testimonies were wonderful, weren’t they?”
Maria didn’t answer. She couldn’t remember anything anyone had said.
That night as Mama tucked Maria into bed, Maria asked, “Why didn’t I feel the Spirit in church today, Mama?”
“The Spirit speaks in a still, small voice,” Mama said. “We must pay attention to notice it. When we go to church, we need to think about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—then we can feel the Spirit.”
Maria thought about what she had been thinking about at church that day. She had been thinking about her new dress, not about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
The next week Maria wore her pretty pink dress to church again. But she listened to Sister Sánchez in Primary. In sacrament meeting she tried to think about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Maria left church feeling the Spirit in her heart. She was glad she had gone to church not just to show off her new dress.

Church was great, wasn’t it?
Now what should we do?
We could write letters to Grandpa or visit Sister Gomez. Or is there someone else we could help?
On the way to church, I saw people who looked like they didn’t have homes.
Can we give something to them?
Good idea!
I’ll find a list of donations the homeless shelter suggests. Let’s see what we have at home.
Can we make some muffins to give to them too?
You bet.
A little while later …
Hi! We wanted to give you these.
They have lots of good stuff in them—even muffins!
Thank you!
God bless you.
I’m glad we helped people today.
Me too!
Thanks to Cayden and Ammon G. for sharing their story with us. And sharing their great example!

My mom was driving the school bus one morning. When we drove up to one of the bus stops, a little boy named Adam was standing there crying. He didn’t want to get on the bus. His dad tried everything he could think of to help him be less afraid, and Adam finally got on. But he sat down and kept right on crying. I asked my mom if I could change seats, and she said yes. I sat by Adam and sang happy songs to him. He stopped crying. I felt very happy.

Not very many years ago in a Maori village in New Zealand, a baby boy was born. He soon received a blessing from his grandfather who said in the blessing that this boy would one day become an educational leader among his people. Some of the men in the village laughed at that blessing; it seemed so unrealistic. That boy, Barney Wihongi, earned his doctorate and is now president of the Church College of New Zealand. He became president of the Church College of New Zealand at age 35 and, increasingly, has influence among other educators in the country of New Zealand. The promises given to Brother Wihongi as a baby amused some. Today, Brother Barney Wihongi inspires many!

First, an experience that I had as a youth which helped to teach me an important lesson. It occurred when I was quite young—to be more specific, a boy of 10 or 11. I was herding our flock of sheep in the mountains of northern Utah to the east of East Garland. My grandfather had entrusted me with the sheep as we were moving them up the mountain to the summer range. I had just watered them in a small mountain stream and bedded them down for a short rest before going on.
While they were settled, I went about to explore the terrain and check the route ahead. I was a couple of hundred yards up the canyon when I heard a sound that chilled me to the bone. Once you have heard a rattlesnake, a very poisonous reptile, you’ll never forget the sound.
Cautiously I moved toward that sound. To my surprise I observed not one but three rattlers just a few yards away. They were on a rocky knoll that had been warmed by the spring sun. While the sight of three rattlers in a bunch intrigued me, because you seldom see more than one at a time, it also concerned me since the sheep would need to pass this way.
Before long the sheep roused and started moving up the canyon. As they came closer, the snakes seemed to sense the intruders and slithered down the incline toward the creek.
Fearing the danger, I immediately turned my sheep up the hill away from the direction the snakes were moving. I was successful for a time, but then a couple of sheep broke away from the flock. As they did so, the entire flock seemed determined to follow those two errant old ewes, and there was no stopping them. You may have heard the characterization “They all followed like a bunch of sheep.” Well, that’s what happened here. To make matters worse, they were moving directly toward the location of the rattlers.
I had hoped that the natural instinct of the sheep would keep them at a safe distance. But some of the flock were pushed directly into the path of the snakes. And there was no escape for the unfortunate ones that sustained the strikes of those disturbed reptiles.
It was a sad young shepherd who had to report to his grandfather a short time later the loss of two of his prized ewes. The experience of that day provided a very forceful illustration to me of what can happen when the sheep ignore their shepherd.
I was there as the shepherd. I perceived the danger and was trying my best to protect my sheep. But as a few started to go in the wrong direction, others were determined to follow. Though only two of the flock were lost, it was a loss that need not have been.