Gospel Story Finder

Choir practice was every Wednesday night in the chapel at 7:30 P.M. By that time I was also a forward on the ward M Men basketball team, athletic manager, and captain of the team. Choir rehearsals and league games were often scheduled on the same Wednesday night. This produced conflicts. One night father insisted I attend choir practice and miss a game. Usually, in such cases, I was excused from choir practice. As I look back, the bitter taste I felt during that particular rehearsal has long since vanished. The glorious sounds of Handel resonate through my soul while my basketball prowess has somewhat diminished!

A few weeks ago I listened to a stake president exhort his people to build strong families and to enjoy them. It was a great sermon, and the high point of it for me was his account of the family skiing trip when a four-year-old wanted to go to the top with the rest of the family and ski down. When they arrived it was discovered that he had to snowplow all the way down because it was just a bit too tough a run for his age and experience. The mother started to accompany her four-year-old son down the hill, but her teenage son voluntarily took over and lovingly shepherded his little brother down instead of swooping down himself as he could have done. He cheerfully sacrificed one swift run down the mountain and blessed a whole family with a sweet spirit of love and concern and appreciation.

As a young girl I saw commitment in my grandmother, who helped Grandpa homestead our farm on the Kansas prairie. Somehow they outlasted the Dust Bowl, the Depression, and the tornadoes that terrorize the Great Plains. I’ve often wondered how Grandma put up with years of meager income and hard work and how she went on when her oldest son died in a tragic accident. Grandma’s life wasn’t easy. But do you know what I remember most about her? Her total joy in the gospel. She was never happier than when she was working on family history or teaching with her scriptures in hand. Grandma had laid aside the things of this world to seek for the things of a better.
To the world, my grandma was ordinary. But to me, she represents the unsung heroines of this century who lived up to their premortal promises and left a foundation of faith upon which we may build. Grandma wasn’t perfect, but she was a woman of God. Now it is for you and for me to carry forward the banner into the next century. We are not women of the world. We are women of God. And women of God will be among the greatest heroines of the 21st century. As President Joseph F. Smith proclaimed, it is not for us “to be led by the women of the world; it is for [us] to lead … the women of the world, in everything that is praise-worthy” (Teachings, 184).

When you first meet Simone Millo, 10, of Florence, Italy, he seems to be shy. His dark brown eyes sparkle with friendship, but his manner is very quiet. But give him his bicycle, put a helmet on his head, let him dress in his brightly-colored bicycle racing outfit, and he becomes all smiles and full of excitement. Almost all children have favorite things that they like to do, and Simone loves cycling! He belongs to a cycling club called Itala. The club meets three times a week; and because Florence is such a large city with a lot of traffic, they usually ride on the cycling circuit in the park.
Simone has other favorites, too. He loves animals and had always wanted to have a pet of his own. Not long ago, his dream came true! “My brother and I got two dogs!” Simone said with a smile. “We named them Birba and Quinzia.” Birba (which means “naughty”) is a small basset hound, and Quinzia is a boxer. Simone and his brother, Emanuele, love to play with the dogs and take them for walks around their neighborhood. Of course, having pets also means taking care of them. But Simone’s mother, Christina, says that he is very willing to do that. “He also helps me with other chores around the house,” she adds, “and because I work outside the home, that is very important to me.”
The Millo family lives quite a distance from the church—it takes them about twenty minutes to drive there. Simone looks forward to Sundays and going to his Primary class. He loves to learn about the scriptures, and his favorite scripture story is about Nephi’s journey in the desert. There are three children in his Valiant class—two boys and one girl. But in his school, none of his friends are members of the Church. Simone tries to set a good example for them by remembering the things he learns at church and by doing the things he should.
Simone’s eighth birthday was a very special day—he was baptized on his birthday! His family were members of the Church when he was born, so he had looked forward to this day for a long time.
Simone’s father, Daniel, works with the Boy Scout troop in the Florence Branch, and his brother, Emanuele, belongs to that troop. Simone looks forward to the time when he can participate in Scouting activities with them. At this time, there is not a Cub Scout program in this branch for the younger boys, but Simone hopes that will happen soon.
“I want to go on a mission when I am old enough,” says Simone. When asked if he had a place in mind where he would like to serve his mission, he replied, “My grandmother is German, so maybe it would be nice to go to Germany.” But Simone knows he will be happy to go wherever he is called. And wherever that is—just maybe he can ride a bicycle there, too.

I recently became employed in Bengaluru, India, a city that is far from my hometown of Chennai. I enjoyed my new job; however, going to a new branch was a different feeling. I felt like a stranger, and I missed my home branch. Then I read the article “Making Any Ward ‘Home’” in the January 2008 Liahona. I felt comforted, and I started introducing myself to many members. I received a calling and made new friends. Most importantly, I know better why I come to church. Now I look for new faces and reach out to them. Thank you for the article.
Joseph Isaac, India

One Christmas Eve, I stayed up late into the night finishing a short story for my father. The story was about a young girl who wanted to be an angel in her community’s Christmas nativity. I named the girl Cosette after my father’s sister, who had passed away earlier in the year.
The next morning I got to watch the soft expression on my father’s face and see the tears shine in his eyes as he read what I had written. I can still remember the feeling when he finished and looked up at me. His quiet and simple “thank you” was the best gift I received that Christmas morning. It helped me see how our Heavenly Father and our Savior must feel when we gratefully receive the blessings They send us every day.
—Julia Woodbury

While in Oklahoma, I had the opportunity to meet with a few of the families devastated by the mighty twisters. As I visited with the Sorrels family, I was particularly touched by the experience of their daughter, Tori, then a fifth grader at Plaza Towers Elementary School. She and her mother are here with us today.
Tori and a handful of her friends huddled in a restroom for shelter as the tornado roared through the school. Listen as I read, in Tori’s own words, the account of that day:
“I heard something hit the roof. I thought it was just hailing. The sound got louder and louder. I said a prayer that Heavenly Father would protect us all and keep us safe. All of a sudden we heard a loud vacuum sound, and the roof disappeared right above our heads. There was lots of wind and debris flying around and hitting every part of my body. It was darker outside and it looked like the sky was black, but it wasn’t—it was the inside of the tornado. I just closed my eyes, hoping and praying that it would be over soon.
“All of a sudden it got quiet.
“When I opened my eyes, I saw a stop sign right in front of my eyes! It was almost touching my nose.”
Tori, her mother, three of her siblings, and numerous friends who were also in the school with her miraculously survived that tornado; seven of their schoolmates did not.
That weekend the priesthood brethren gave many blessings to members who had suffered in the storm. I was humbled to give Tori a blessing. As I laid my hands on her head, a favorite scripture came to mind: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”
I counseled Tori to remember the day when a servant of the Lord laid his hands on her head and pronounced that she had been protected by angels in the storm.

“We knew quite early that Shawn would be good in basketball,” says Reiner. “I played ball with some men in the ward early mornings at the stake center. I asked Shawn if he would be interested in coming along. He went with me many mornings to the stake center and played with the adults when he was only eleven or twelve years old.”
Some time in his early teenage years, Shawn first beat his Dad in one-on-one basketball competition. “I don’t remember when it happened. When Dad would win, it would make me feel bad, so the next time, he’d let me beat him. I never really knew when I actually could beat him.”

I had an experience like yours. I wanted so much to be able to tell the bishop, but I thought he would have little respect for me as a member of his ward. I prayed about it for a long time. I was finally comforted enough by the Spirit to be able to tell the bishop about my problem. After I told him what I had done, he let me know that what I had done was wrong but that he still loved me and so does my Heavenly Father. He let me know that there is a way back and that is by repentance. Repentance is such a wonderful process. I beg you to give it a try. The Lord is waiting for you!
Name withheld

I am very much aware that you and some of your peers are living that way now. For instance, a fifteen-year-old Korean boy took his weekly allowance and bought newspapers with it. Then he and some friends sold these on the streets of Seoul, Korea, to raise money to help a fellow student who did not have sufficient funds to stay in school. This young man also gave part of his lunch to this boy each day so that he would not go hungry. Why did he do these things? Because he had been studying the story of the Good Samaritan and didn’t just want to learn about the Good Samaritan but wanted to know what it felt like to be one by doing what a Good Samaritan would do. (See Luke 10:25–37.) He related these things to his father only after careful questioning by his father about his activities. He had done them without any thought of recognition.

I doubt very much that the bishop of this young man would have to worry about how he looked when he came to participate at the sacrament table or whether his heart and hands were clean and pure. I don’t think his father would have to worry about whether or not he was honest in his relationships with others, or whether or not he cheated at school.

Until her junior year of high school, Brittany R. of New Mexico, USA, seemed to have the life of a typical teenager—playing in the high school band, surviving classes, and planning life after graduation. But things didn’t work out the way she imagined.
During her junior year of high school, Brittany came down with flu-like symptoms that—after many hospital stays and tests—eventually led doctors to diagnose her with a rare disease that paralyzed her digestive tract. Eating normal food was no longer an option. Ever since, she’s had to stay in the hospital for months at a time for various surgeries and procedures, and now she eats through specially prepared tubes she keeps in a backpack.
Brittany has chosen to reach outward instead of focusing on her problems. “The more that you [focus] on yourself, the more likely you are to fall into a rut and feel sorry for yourself,” Brittany says. “Reaching out to others, you really forget your own problems.” She adds, “I’m able to see the joy on the faces of those I’m helping, along with the confirmation of the Spirit letting me know that what I’m doing is good.”

The train threaded its way through the mountains that walled Feather River Canyon, carrying its load of passengers eastward from San Francisco. Although snow lay deep in some of the higher passes, a bright March sun had caused streams to cascade over the rocks and a soft green to begin to color the oak brush and grass.
Some of those on the train pressed their faces against the windows to see the beauty of the canyon; others slept. A man in one of the cars did neither. His thoughts were of a talk he had been asked to give the following week at Primary General Conference. He wondered what he might say to express his love for children.
This man was Marion G. Romney. He picked up his Bible and turned to the New Testament, to the tenth chapter of Mark, which tells how the Savior took the children in his arms and blessed them. As Elder Romney read, he leaned forward in front of the window of the train, the New Testament in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He read and reread the words until it almost seemed as if he could see the Savior with the children in his arms. The picture was so beautiful that Elder Romney closed the book, leaned back as far as he could, and pressed his body hard against the seat as he shut his eyes in prayerful thought.
Just then a great boulder, crashing down the mountainside, burst through the window of the train where he sat. It grazed his face and bruised his right side but did not seriously hurt him.
A week later as Elder Romney stood in the Salt Lake Tabernacle, he said, “Had I been leaning forward, I am sure I would not be here today.”

I grew up in beautiful Jamaica; it was fun and wonderful. However, when I started high school, some classmates and friends could not understand my decision to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. “How could you join that church?” they would ask. “How could you believe that story?”—referring to the First Vision. “How could you read that book?”—referring to the Book of Mormon. “Do you really believe all that?” And “Why are you wasting your life away?”
It was painful, especially when it came from people I cared about.
But what they didn’t know was this: I had an experience with the Holy Ghost. As that testimony filled my heart, it dulled the pain of days, and “for one brief moment, heaven’s view [appeared] before my gaze.”
Jamaica is to me like Palmyra was to Joseph Smith. It is my Sacred Grove. I do not know the exact spot where Joseph knelt to pray in the Sacred Grove, but I know exactly where I was when my Sacred Grove became a reality. It happened at Four Grove Road, Mandeville, Jamaica, in my bathroom, at 6:00 a.m. on a Wednesday three years after my baptism. This sacred experience happened because two weeks earlier an inspired sister missionary invited me to read the Book of Mormon. Sister Audrey Krauss is attending this conference today with her family, and I forever love her.
That experience changed me.

“My earliest recollection of my mother is of her teaching me to pray. She always made sure I got to church on time, and she started me off in life with good habits. I remember a precious teaching moment between the two of us. A neighbor lady had passed away. She had been a very dear friend of mine, even though I was but a little boy. I could not understand why Heavenly Father had taken my friend away. I was peering out through the curtains as the mortician placed her body in his big car. My mother took me on her knee and talked to me about the Resurrection and life eternal, things I needed to know right then. Even though I was only five years old, the message really got through because it was a teaching moment that satisfied my need.

Romeo and I have been friends since childhood. He became very unhappy with me when he discovered that I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in October of 2013. He criticized me for joining the Church, and often said to me, “I just do not understand why in the world you chose to join a cult.”
I tried very hard to convince my friend that the Church is not a cult or a devilish movement as he perceived. I encouraged him to investigate the Church and invited him to meet with the full-time missionaries. But my friend forcefully insisted that under no condition could he accept the Book of Mormon as a second Bible. Under no condition could he accept the Prophet Joseph Smith as a true prophet of God. And under no condition could he become a member of the Church.
After much effort to speak with him about the restored Church and gospel of Jesus Christ, I decided not to talk to my friend anymore about the Church, the Book of Mormon and the Prophet Joseph Smith. Rather, I decided to just be a good friend to him.
Not long after, I enrolled in the PathwayConnect online program in 2019. I thought my good friend would also be interested in pursuing his education, so I introduced the PathwayConnect program to him and invited him to enroll. He enrolled and found that it was rewarding. He enjoyed his affiliation with the Church through the PathwayConnect online program as he interacted with members of the Church throughout the world. They shared gospel thoughts related to the weekly academic lessons.
One evening in December of 2020, my friend called me on the phone to inform me that he had finally made up his mind to join the Church. He explained to me how a feeling of peace, joy and belonging filled his mind and soul whenever he attended a PathwayConnect gathering and participated in group charts online.
I then asked my friend, “What about the Book of Mormon and the Prophet Joseph Smith?” To this he responded, “Because you and other members have shown me and believe the Book of Mormon to be the word of God, and Joseph Smith to be a true prophet of God, I too believe!” He later invited the full-time missionaries of the Church to teach him and was baptized in early 2021.

In 2012, I lost my brother with whom I had a very close relationship, and in 2024, shortly after she returned from her mission, I lost a daughter. Both deaths were very painful to me, and they challenged my belief in God’s love. I was consoled by messages from our prophets and apostles, which reminded me of God’s love for me. Many leaders have had similar or more challenging experiences and yet remain faithful and grateful to God’s love.

Avard Fairbanks was born into a family of artists in Provo, Utah, on 2 March 1897. As a boy of 12, Avard sculpted a model of his pet rabbit for the state fair and won first prize. When the judge discovered it was the work of a child and refused to award the prize, young Avard resolved to become an accomplished sculptor to prove his work. Of his work on the angel Moroni statue, he said: “I wanted the statue to conform to the spirit and architecture of the temple, that of aspiring upward. I wanted the feeling of that upward reach accomplished by the stress of vertical lines.”8

During lunchtime at school, I was talking to my friend, and he told me that he had never been to church or read the scriptures. I told him that I could give him the scriptures. So I went home and asked my mom if I could use the Book of Mormon that the missionaries had left us to give away. I wrote my testimony in the front and took it to school the next day. I gave it to my friend, and he said thank you. I felt good because I was being a missionary.
Brendan J., age 7, Nevada, USA

“I feel the Footprints have had a real missionary impact on the people around them,” said Jane Gardner. “After one show a boy who’d only been away from home a few months came up to me and told me our program had made him so proud it had brought tears to his eyes. He then said he’d met a Mormon once but had lost contact with him, and he asked me if I could please tell him a little about the Church.”
Jane bore her testimony and set up an appointment for the boy to receive the missionary lessons. “Any effort we put into that tour was worth it,” she added, “because we touched one person.”

Forty years ago, I gave my heart to Jesus Christ and began attending an evangelical church. I had a wonderful pastor and made many friends who helped me grow spiritually. But after many years of attending, I became troubled by some of the church’s new practices. I tried so hard to stay, but I just couldn’t abide by the changes.
When I began searching for a new church, my brother and his wife, who were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, invited me to come to their church. But I couldn’t wrap my heart and mind around Joseph Smith as a prophet. I respectfully told them, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I started going to another evangelical church, but the same thing happened there too. After a while, I felt that my spiritual needs weren’t being fulfilled there either. Once again, my brother and his wife invited me to come to their church, and again I politely refused.
I decided I couldn’t trust any church. I made a plan to practice my faith alone. But without church or the opportunity to share my faith with others, I felt myself slipping away from my commitment to Jesus Christ. I started doubting what I had believed in for 30 years! That was the turning point for me.
I looked to the only option I seemed to have left and finally told my brother and his wife that I wanted to go to church with them.
I was skeptical at first, but I will never forget that first Sunday I attended with them. My heart swelled throughout sacrament meeting, as we discussed the New Testament in Sunday School, and again when we sang beautiful music together in Relief Society. And I loved the way people interacted with such love and compassion.
I felt at home.
I continued going to church, but after praying and searching for almost two years, I still had many questions for the Lord and wasn’t ready to be baptized. Then, in October 2012, I decided to watch general conference to find my answers.
Both Saturday sessions greatly touched my heart, and I decided to watch the Sunday morning session in the church building. Even though there was hardly anyone there, I felt distinct peace about my decision to be in the chapel. I could feel my heart softening. I was so hungry for truth.
President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, shared a beautiful message that I will never forget. He spoke of Joseph Smith’s prayer in Liberty Jail, when he cried out: “O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?” (Doctrine and Covenants 121:1). President Eyring compared Joseph’s feeling to what I had felt:
“Many of us, in moments of personal anguish, feel that God is far from us. … God is never hidden, yet sometimes we are, covered by a pavilion of motivations that draw us away from God and make Him seem distant and inaccessible. …
“Our feelings of separation from God will diminish as we become more childlike before Him. … It will help us recognize this truth: God is close to us and aware of us and never hides from His faithful children.”1
As President Eyring shared this message about receiving God’s love and His will, I heard a message from the Spirit in my mind. It was two simple words: “Be baptized.”
When Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles spoke about conversion that same day,2 I felt my concerns about being baptized disappear. I realized I wasn’t giving up my core beliefs from my evangelical days by joining a new faith. I was building on the faith and truths that I already had. I was being further converted unto the Lord. And His prophets were helping me along the way.
The morning after conference, I called my brother and asked him if he would baptize me. It was a joyful moment that brought us both to tears.
As I reflect on my life journey, I’m grateful for the opportunities afforded me through Jesus Christ. And I’m grateful for general conference. During general conference, I felt that God had heard me. He answered my questions, addressed my fears, and loved me through the words of His prophets.
I know that each general conference has a message straight from the Lord that is personally tailored to you and what you’re going through. As we listen to the prophets with a willingness to accept God’s message for us, we will hear Him. We will receive answers to our prayers and answers to our questions. We will find that the Lord speaks, and we will become more and more converted unto Him.