Gospel Story Finder

Among those who Joseph, 15, and his 19-year-old sister, Alexandra, helped bring to the gospel are their mother and father.
“Our parents came to our baptism,” Joseph said. “It was outside, in a swimming pool. The birds and crickets were singing in the background. The spirit was so strong, and our parents became more interested. The next day, in sacrament meeting, we were asked to bear our testimonies. Dad had to work, but Mom was there, and she recorded us so he could hear us too.”
Joseph and Alexandra quickly became active and energetic members. They both play musical instruments, the recorder and the guitar, and they love to sing, both hymns and folk music. In the ward, their love of music is infectious. So is their love of the gospel. They frequently help the missionaries and are great aids in integrating investigators, especially their parents.
“We would share our Church activities with our parents at dinner,” says Joseph. “We would invite them to come to church with us, and they often came.”
It was really only a matter of time before the senior Szamosfalvis were baptized—by their son, Joseph, of course. And once they joined, Church membership drastically changed their lives. Not only did Joseph Sr. change jobs so he could attend church on Sundays, but he sold the family vineyard and the family bar. They feel the Lord has opened all sorts of doors for them and look forward to a bright future.

Such a great lesson it was, and he taught it not by word but by example, as a true disciple of Christ should. He set the example for us in many ways. One evening, after a long tiring day, President Lee was so bothered by an ailment that it was difficult for him to go to sleep. He called upon Elder Hinckley and President Cannon to give him a blessing, which resulted in great relief. Here indeed is a man who takes the priesthood for what it truly is—a blessing from God to be put to use and not merely hidden away until Sunday morning.

Andy Walburger is a returned missionary who plays on the Stanford water polo team. Being able to play for the team was a big factor in his decision to go to Stanford, but it wasn’t the only one.
“I love the LDS community here at Stanford,” he says. “I think relationships are a very important part of a college education. In fact, a big part of what you learn at college happens outside the classroom, so you want to make sure that it will be a good atmosphere. Having LDS friends here has made all the difference for me. After all, staying at home by yourself every Friday night isn’t a lot of fun.”

Adriana wears a long skirt that has been altered by the insertion of a panel in the side seam to close up what would have been a high slit. Her mother, Lydia (Enrique’s wife), and her aunt Mercedes point out that it is often difficult for Paraguayan women to find modest clothing in stores, so the Sanchez descendants have done what others are often forced to do—make their own alterations or sew their own clothing. Lina, Mercedes’ mother and Lydia’s mother-in-law, has served as family seamstress, but now the younger women are also learning sewing skills.

Total attendance at the priesthood leadership conference and the member and investigator meeting was 9,693, which included 619 investigators. Many members sacrificed greatly to attend. Virginie Oulai Tongo of the Meagui Branch, Cote d’Ivoire Abidjan Mission, said her family saved their money to come and see an Apostle. “We traveled for 12 hours, but I am happy,” she said.

Another memory from my boyhood was learning how to work. We had a big yard because my dad wanted to teach us how to work in it. So we all had assignments—mowing the lawn, weeding the vegetable and flower gardens, trimming the hedges, and so forth. My favorite job was working in our strawberry patch, because I’d eat the strawberries almost as fast as I picked them!
One job I had was mowing the lawn with our old push mower. My dad wouldn’t make me do it when I didn’t want to, but he would warn me, “It’s your job, and if you don’t do it today, the grass will only be longer tomorrow, and it’ll be harder to push the mower.” I remember procrastinating three or four days past the time when I should have mowed the lawn. Trying to push that mower through the long grass was really hard. I learned never to put off what you’re supposed to do, because it just gets harder the longer you wait. One of the happiest days of my youth was when my dad finally bought a power lawn mower!

A friend of mine recently said to me, “Do you know what you and Steve Young, the quarterback of the 49ers, have in common?”
And I said, “I can think of a number of things—on either side of the fence.” Then I said, “You tell me what we have in common.”
And he said, “What you have in common is that we’re wondering if you’ll be back for the next season.”

Having been quite well-acquainted with Heber Valley and the surrounding mountains, I was interested in “His Father’s Sheep” in the May New Era. I was very disappointed, however, when I saw a photo of Doug Clyde carving some graffiti into the trunk of a beautiful white aspen tree. I was even more dismayed to read a caption that seemed to justify the act. Carving on trees is not only illegal on government land but is also condemned by the U.S. Forest Service and all conservation organizations for obvious reasons. That a Church magazine noted for its beautiful nature photography should encourage such behavior is outrageous! I would like to see a printed apology.
Neil F. AndersenCambelltown, New South Wales, Australia
We gladly apologize if we have seemed to encourage the defacement of trees. Editor

After playing in a mud hole as a boy, Allen D. Haynie is not allowed into the house until after his grandmother sprays him clean with a hose.

Do you remember being afraid of the dark when you were a child? When you became frightened, you probably turned on the lights—all the lights in the house! When your parents came home later in the evening, they would ask, “Why is every light in the house on?” Then they would proceed to lecture you about the family budget and the cost of electricity.
You had learned, however, that by turning on an electric light or by lighting a candle, there was no more darkness, no more fear. You learned a simple law of nature, which is also a spiritual law: Light and darkness cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Satan and his disciples cannot tolerate the spiritual light of the gospel; they must immediately depart.

As most of you are aware, I am a convert to the Church, having been baptized in Tokyo, Japan, back in 1952 while serving in the U.S. Navy during the Korean conflict. I was born and reared in Missouri, where much of the early history of this church took place. But I had never heard anything about the Mormon church. I was looking for the truth, and although I had read the Bible and believed that Jesus Christ had lived on the earth and had been resurrected, yet I had so many unanswered questions—questions such as: Why doesn’t God speak to man today as he did anciently when the Bible was being written? How can Jesus be his own father and the Holy Ghost too? Why did Jesus have to be baptized when he had no sin? Where was I before I was born, and where do I go when I die? How can just believing in Christ save me when I haven’t kept God’s Ten Commandments?

I knew there must be answers that I had not heard. The answers came when Elders Ted Raban and Ronald Flygare knocked on my door in San Diego, California, in July 1951. My wife, Connie, let them in and accepted a copy of the Book of Mormon from them. I was in Hawaii at the time, attending a fourteen-week training course preparatory to deployment to Korea.

When I returned home, Connie gave me a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I began to read. I knew the book was true before I had finished 2 Nephi—Nephi had converted one more—and began to attend church in the old Valencia Park Ward in San Diego. Because of my preparation for deployment, I was not able to study and attend church as I wanted to and longed for the time when I could. The time came aboard the aircraft carrier Philippine Seas, where I read fourteen of the best books that have ever been written. They included the standard works of the Church, plus the writings of each of the Presidents of the Church from Joseph Smith, Jr., to David O. McKay, plus Parley P. and Orson Pratt and a few others. I was like a starving man who had found food and drink for the first time. I loved it. When we arrived in Japan, the LDS group aboard ship decided I should be baptized. So we traveled to the Tokyo mission home, where I requested baptism. I was informed that I had not been an investigator for the required one-year time period; therefore, I could not be baptized. However, I persisted. I asked to be interviewed. The interview took an hour and a half, but in the end I received a recommend for baptism and confirmation. McDonald B. Johnson, the LDS group leader on the Philippine Seas, baptized me, and Fred Gaylord Peterson confirmed me, and I became a member of the Church on February 26, 1952. I was ordained a deacon that day and subsequently to another office in the priesthood each time the ship returned to Japan, until on July 26, 1952, I was ordained an elder and returned to San Diego in August, where my wife had been baptized on March 1 of that same year. We were a united family in the gospel of Jesus Christ and were looking forward with much anticipation to being sealed together with our three children in the Mesa Arizona Temple, which happened in May 1953.

“Papá, Alan’s hurt!” Nicole cried as she and her friend Nathalia quickly rode into our camp on their four-wheeled all-terrain vehicle.
We were camping in central Utah with two other families. While my son Alan and his friend Kurt were out riding, they hit a ditch and flipped their four-wheeler. It had landed on top of Alan, but somehow Kurt lifted it off of him.
When I arrived at the scene a few minutes later with two friends, Alan was lying in the ditch, surrounded by several men. He was having trouble breathing, and Kurt looked sick with worry. When Alan tried to get up, a man with a medical bag told him to stay down as he administered first aid and checked his vital signs.
“You’re the father, correct?” he asked as he looked up at me.
“Yes.”
“Stay with Alan a minute.”
To my friends Hector and Carlos, he said, “I need to speak with you.”
They went off by themselves, which raised a red flag in my mind. The man’s name was Mike Staheli. Mike, a medical nurse, was camping with some friends. They had planned to return home that morning but felt prompted to stay one more day. His son had seen the accident and immediately called his father for help.
I learned later that Mike had told Hector and Carlos that Alan was in serious condition. Mike feared that Alan might die in the ditch if he didn’t receive medical help soon. Alan’s left leg had swollen to twice its normal size, and Mike feared that Alan had suffered a hip or femoral fracture. Mike was convinced that Alan had broken his now Z-shaped left arm and perhaps some ribs. Mike also feared that Alan had injured some internal organs.
To get Alan to the hospital quickly, Mike said we should call for a medical helicopter, which we did.
“Luis,” Hector said for the second time, “we need to give Alan a blessing.”
I hadn’t really heard Hector the first time because I was too focused on Alan. Hector was right.
“We’re going to give you a blessing,” I said to Alan, who had recently been ordained a deacon. “You understand what that means?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“But you have to do something,” I said. “You have to have faith in Jesus Christ and the power of the priesthood. Do you have faith that the Lord can help you and heal you?”
“Yes, Papá,” he told me, “I do have faith.”
I anointed Alan, and then Hector, Carlos, and I gave him a blessing, with Hector sealing the anointing. Hector’s words were simple, but we all felt the powerful presence of the Holy Ghost.
Alan’s breathing slowed, and his vital signs stabilized almost immediately. The wind stopped, a calmness settled over us, and some of the men began to weep. It was a cold fall day, but afterward, Alan said he felt warmer as Hector pronounced the blessing.
Soon the helicopter arrived, and I joined Alan on the flight to the hospital. When we landed, he was rushed inside, where he underwent several examinations and tests, including an MRI. As I waited, I expected the worst. But the worst never came. Doctors found no internal injuries and no broken femur, hip, arm, or ribs—nothing.
“Alan,” one of the doctors told him, “it looks like you can go home tonight.”
Alan had difficulty walking, so he stayed overnight in the hospital for observation. When we brought him home the next morning, he wore only a brace on his left wrist. Six weeks later, he was preparing for soccer season.
A week after the accident, we went to Mike’s house to thank him for his help. He could hardly believe his eyes when Alan walked in and sat on his couch.
“I’ve taken care of a lot of people, and I’ve seen a lot of people pass away,” he told us. “Medically, Alan should not have made it. What I saw that day was truly miraculous. It was divine intervention.”

My second-to-last year of high school, I got in a serious car crash. Before that I just wasn’t doing the things I should. But after the wreck, my viewpoint really shifted. My life could’ve been taken right then and there, and I did not want it to end like that. My bishop helped get me on the right path: reading the Book of Mormon daily and preparing to serve a mission.

I returned from the mission field with many hopes regarding employment. Even though I had worked before, I had no qualifications, so I did what I could to find work, but I was never satisfied and could not see any progress in my future.
I always wanted to study, but I could not pay for schooling, and my family was not in a position to help me.
When the Perpetual Education Fund was started, I saw an opportunity to change my future. I relied upon my Heavenly Father to help me, and thus I chose a course of study with His inspiration.
I chose to study nursing. My schooling required a lot of study and dedication. But I became impassioned with nursing. Three months after graduating, I was able to find employment at one of the best hospitals in Alagoas, Brazil.
I have many plans for the future. I plan to take advanced studies in nursing, and I have started to pay back my loan so others can partake of the opportunity of receiving an education and the blessings that come with it.

After the Bible had been published and reviewed, it was determined that the Church would next concentrate its efforts on the three books of modern scripture which we commonly refer to as the triple combination. This, too, became a publishing miracle; but it came about so quietly that most hardly knew it had happened.

So much for the days of old. Now as to modern times. Joseph Smith, to whom the Father and the Son revealed Themselves in the early decades of the 19th century, and through whom the everlasting gospel, with all its ancient gifts and blessings, was restored at the opening of this last and greatest of the gospel dispensations; Joseph Smith, who with Sidney Rigdon saw the Son of God sitting on the right hand of God and gazed upon the glories of eternity; Joseph Smith, who with Oliver Cowdery beheld Jehovah, even Jesus Christ, standing upon the breastwork of the pulpit in the Kirtland Temple; Joseph, the martyred prophet, who gave his life to lay the foundations of this work—he left upon record more than one mighty testimony to the divinity of Jesus Christ. And tens of thousands of faithful Saints have rejoiced and are rejoicing in those testimonies, confirmed to them by the all-convincing power of the Holy Ghost.

It was time to take the cows and goats to the high Alpine pastures for summer grazing. And Hansi had gotten up early to attend to his pet goat, Groffi. He remembered the summer before when the little goat was born with one leg shorter than the other. It had had a hard time even learning to hobble, and Hansi had taken care of her. Now the boy was shaking with excitement as he huddled in the dark stable with his little pet. Hansi was planning to do something that might be dangerous for both of them. But he felt it was the only way to show his father how much the little crippled animal meant to him and the only way to keep her for himself.
The goat had been no trouble during the winter when the animals were in the stable and out of the cold and snow. But his father had said, “You may keep the goat until spring. Then we must give her to old Simon up on the mountainside. He will take good care of Groffi. This little one would only be in the way during the steep climb to the meadows. I’m afraid she would never make it.”
Hansi was troubled and tried to convince his father that Groffi would be no trouble, but his father was firm about it. “Every animal must be worth its keep,” his father explained. “When you are a herdsman, you will understand.”
Hansi wanted very much to be a herdsman someday, to wear the velvet jacket with red designs on it, and to blow the long alpenhorn. But just now, what he wanted most was to keep Groffi with the other animals and not give her away. Old Simon must be a strange, gruff man, to live alone so far away from the people in the Village. How would such a man treat a goat that limps? Hansi wondered.
So on this festival day when all the villagers would travel in a procession partway up the mountain with the herdsmen and the animals, Hansi was going ahead of them alone with Groffi to the high pasture. If I do this, he thought, Father will see that Groffi can make the climb and will let me keep her.
He peeked out the stable door. His family and all the others in the village were dressing in their gay costumes, preparing to start. Dogs were barking and cowbells jangled. People would soon be busy putting garlands of flowers around the cows’ necks and loading milk pails in the cheese carts the little donkeys would pull. Maybe they’ll be too busy to notice I’m missing, he hoped.
With Groffi in his arms, Hansi stepped out of the stable and hurried behind it then over to the trail that led up the mountain. He started up the path carrying Groffi, but she soon became heavy.
Hansi put her down and she was able to climb along, but she was in no hurry. She stopped often to nibble daisies and forget-me-nots along with the grass. “Hurry, Groffi,” Hansi urged. “Wait until we get to the meadows, then you can eat. Oh, I wish you had some climbing shoes like mine!”
Hansi looked up the mountain and knew that he was doing a risky thing. Even the herdsmen who had been climbing for years were careful of every step and kept close watch on the animals. Goats have sure feet, but Groffi was not like other goats. And Hansi knew he should not be going alone with her. But he kept on, half pushing, half carrying his pet. After a while Hansi guessed they were about a mile from the village. It was a good head start from the others, who probably hadn’t left home yet.
Soon Hansi came to the place where he knew he must leave the path to circle around Simon’s hut. If the old man saw him, he would ask questions, and Hansi didn’t want to have to answer them. Off to the side it was rocky, and Hansi knew he must test every step. He put one foot on a smooth shale rock almost as big as a table. It ought to be solid, he reasoned. Then he picked up Groffi and tried his weight on the rock. But he had barely stood up on it when the rock slipped and started sliding rapidly down the mountain with Hansi and Groffi on top of it. They were thrown off when the rock hit a tree. Hansi grabbed his scraped leg and looked for Groffi. But his pet was nowhere to be seen.
Hansi knew he was in trouble and that he had acted foolishly. But for the moment he could only sit still and try to keep back the tears. After a while Hansi heard footsteps. He looked up and saw Simon coming toward him. At first Hansi was frightened, but then he saw Groffi hobbling along close to the old man. Simon’s hand was warm and his voice was soft as he helped Hansi to his feet and asked, “Are you hurt, my boy?”
“Only bruised,” Hansi replied, brushing himself off and wiping his tears with the soft handkerchief Simon handed him. And to his surprise he was soon telling Simon the whole story. At the end he admitted, “I was afraid you wouldn’t love Groffi as I do.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled. “Who should love a goat anyway? Only a little boy? I have lots of love, enough for goats as well as boys.” Groffi nuzzled Simon as he rubbed her head behind her ears.
Hansi smiled. He knew that Groffi would have a good home and that made it easier to give her up. “Can I come often to visit her?” he asked.
“Of course, come anytime. An old man needs more than animals to love.”
Hansi’s face clouded again as he remembered that he still had to go back down and face his father. “Father will be angry with me,” the boy explained.
“Yes, that’s true,” Simon agreed. “But he’ll forgive you, I’m sure. If a boy and an old man can love a goat so much, don’t you think a father can love a son even more?”

Mary had been a member of the Church for two years and was just starting to fill in her family tree. Her ward family history consultant helped her find ancestors the first few times she went to the temple. The next time she planned to attend the temple, she wanted to do some initiatory work and decided to see if she could obtain an ordinance card on her own.

Following the steps for Ordinances Ready outlined below, Mary logged on to the Family Tree mobile app to quickly find an ancestor who needed initiatory work, but she didn’t have a printer available. She saved the card to her cell phone photos, and a temple worker printed the card for her when she arrived.

Most birthday parties I am invited to are on Saturdays. However, one year I was invited to two of them on a Sunday. It was hard not to go as both parties were at the Canada Games Pool, and I knew they would be a lot of fun. But I also know that it is a commandment to keep the Sabbath day holy. I decided not to go. The next year when these girls’ birthdays came around, both of them held their parties on Saturday, and I was able to go.

Connor sat down at the family computer and typed in the website address his friend had given him. “You’ve got to check it out!” his friend had said.
But as soon as the website appeared, Connor felt awful. He quickly tried to close the page, but the more he clicked, the more bad pictures popped up. In a panic, Connor hit the off button on the computer and ran to his bedroom.
Connor felt sorry he had seen those pictures. Since his baptism a few months ago, he had started to feel the special peace of the Holy Ghost. But after seeing those pictures, Connor didn’t feel peace at all. He felt guilty and scared that someone would know what he had seen.
Connor was quiet during dinner. He tried to listen to his family’s conversation, but the pictures he had seen kept coming back into his mind. The sick feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away.
When he said his prayer that night, Connor told Heavenly Father about the pictures he had seen. He said he was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. After the prayer he felt a little more peace, but he also had a feeling that he should go talk to Mom. Connor really didn’t want to tell her what had happened. What if she got angry or was disappointed?
Finally, Connor decided to talk to her. He went to Mom’s room and sat on her bed, where she was reading.
“Mom, can I talk to you?” he asked.
“Sure, honey,” Mom said. “What is it?”
He blurted it all out. He told her about what his friend said, and he told her about what he saw when he visited the site. Mom watched him closely, but she didn’t seem angry.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Connor said. “So I just turned off the computer and ran away. I’m so sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have typed in that address in the first place, but I didn’t know it was bad.”
Mom gave Connor a hug. “Connor, I am so sorry you saw those pictures,” she said. “Some people try to trick children into seeing bad things. But you did the right thing. If you see bad pictures on the computer, you need to ‘crash and tell.’ That means push the power button to turn off the computer and then come and tell me right away. You did exactly the right thing.”
Connor felt so relieved!
“Connor, I want you to know it is not your fault,” Mom said. “It was a mistake, and you don’t need to feel guilty about what happened.”
“But, Mom, if I did the right thing, why did I feel so bad inside?”
“The Holy Ghost lets us know when something is dangerous,” Mom explained. “That feeling you got was the Holy Ghost telling you to get away. I will put a filter on our computer that will block bad sites, but sometimes bad things still might get through. So if something like this ever happens again, you know what to do, right?”
“Crash the computer and tell you,” Connor said.
“Exactly!” Mom said.
Before he got back in bed, Connor said a prayer to thank Heavenly Father for the relief he felt. As he prayed, he felt peace from the Holy Ghost. He knew things would be OK.