Gospel Story Finder

Heber served in Japan for two years but saw very few people baptized and never learned the language very well. One day when he was discouraged, he went into the woods to pray.
Heber: If it is Thy will, when my mission in Japan is finished, I would like to serve a mission in Europe.
Three days later, Heber was called home to Utah by President Joseph F. Smith.
President Smith: Welcome home, Elder Grant. But you won’t be here long—your next call is to serve as president of the European Mission.

Te Awhina’s childhood was rough. She was raised by her grandmother until she was eight, and then she moved from home to home, where drugs and violence were easier to find than food or faith. “There was no talk of a God,” she says, “No talk of finding healing and forgiveness, I grew up with a poison of hatred and bitterness because I was not taught any better.”
As a teen, she was lost. “I had no guidance, no safety, and no role model. I was confused and had nowhere to find peace,” she remembers. She only knew one kind of life back then, and eventually, it led her to a rehabilitation facility for her own alcohol addiction.

An 81-year-old lady working on the grammar school climbed up and down a ladder, pasting each red cardboard brick on individually.

Later I learned that this saying had once motivated the prophet David O. McKay while he was serving as a young missionary in Scotland. He had seen it on a stone on a building at a discouraging time in his life and on his mission, and the words lifted him. Years later as the building was being torn down, he made arrangements to obtain the stone and had it placed in the garden at the mission home.

I am reminded of the grandfather who got on the airplane. As he went down the aisle looking for a seat, he came to an attractive woman, and he said, “Are you a grandmother?” And she said, “Yes, I am.” So he passed her up. He went on and repeated it again. Finally he asked a lady, “Are you a grandmother?” And she said, “No, I am not.” He said, “May I sit down? I want to talk about my grandchildren.”

One of his favorite blessings in disguise was only possible because seminary was held virtually. Due to different start times, he was actually able to attend his current seminary class in Alabama as well as his old one back in Mississippi! “That’s been kind of cool because I can stay in touch with my friends!”

Golden Colorado Stake
The activity day girls and their dads in the Golden Colorado Stake enjoyed a fun evening together ’50s style! There was dancing, a hula-hoop contest, a bubblegum-blowing contest, and yummy food.

This advice was found and followed by Joe, who had been asked to get up at six in the morning and drive a crippled child 50 miles (80 km) to a hospital. He didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t know how to say no. A woman carried the child out to the car and set him next to the driver’s seat, mumbling thanks through her tears. Joe said everything would be all right and drove off quickly.

After a mile or so, the child inquired shyly, “You’re God, aren’t you?”

“I’m afraid not, little fellow,” replied Joe.

“I thought you must be God,” said the child. “I heard Mother praying next to my bed and asking God to help me get to the hospital, so I could get well and play with the other boys. Do you work for God?”

“Sometimes, I guess,” said Joe, “but not regularly. I think I’m going to work for Him a lot more from now on.”

Arthur, for the Very First Time, written by Patricia MacLachlan and illustrated by Lloyd Bloom, tells of Arthur’s stay with his great-uncle and great-aunt, who have a chicken that understands French, a pig that likes to be sung to, and a neighbor named Moira. All of them help Arthur discover the joy of doing. (Harper & Row)

At our wedding shower, she gave me the strings she had cut from her kitchen apron, symbolizing that she would let him go. And she did. She didn’t bring pots of hot soup regularly to our house to make sure that he had a good, nutritious meal. She didn’t arrange his dental appointments for him.
She didn’t always remember my birthday, but she did better than that: She remembered me kindly and gave me the most precious gift of all—her confidence that I could handle my life with her son and her grandchildren.

Early one morning my wife and I were commenting on the fact that our parents had passed away—we were both orphans. We concluded that since we were both in our 60s, it did not have the same effect it would have had if we were in our infancy or youth. We had outgrown our orphan status. It simply was no longer limiting to our growth.

During a recent trip, Julie and I attended church and saw this verse in action. A young man, soon to leave for his mission, spoke in sacrament meeting.

He said, “You all think my dad is such a good man at church, but …” He paused, and I anxiously wondered what he might say next. He continued and said, “He’s a better man at home.”

I thanked this young man afterward for the inspiring tribute he had paid his father. I then found out that his father was the bishop of the ward. Even though this bishop was serving his ward faithfully, his son felt that his best work was done at home.

It is this last point I would like to enlarge upon. I had the honor recently of being assigned to visit the Samoa Apia Mission and attend some stake conferences in that country. I found the missionaries all well and the work progressing. One afternoon following our meeting, the mission president, Patrick Peters—who is a native Samoan—said, “Elder Dunn, there is something I’d like to show you.” We drove a few miles from the mission home and climbed the brow of a small hill to a place that was isolated by palm trees and other tropical vegetation. I suddenly realized that we were in a very old graveyard. At the center of this graveyard was a plot that was surrounded by a cement wall low enough to step over. President and Sister Peters told me this was where some of the first missionaries in Samoa were buried. There were eight graves.

The thing that struck my interest was that out of the eight graves, four represented children under the age of two and one was a twenty-one-year-old wife and mother. What role could these have possibly played in missionary work in Samoa?

During the next two days, when time would permit, I searched the history of the mission for an answer. While I was unable to gather information on all of the eight, I did discover the following.

A friend of ours was hospitalized following an accident. A neighbor remarked, “I’ve got to bake something for Sally’s family,” but she didn’t. Then she said, “I’ve got to visit Sally while she is still in bed.” But she didn’t. On another occasion she told us, “I’ve just got to get a card off to Sally,” but she never did. These are examples of wanting to be a good neighbor but kind of faking it, though there probably were extenuating circumstances and good excuses.

“I’m afraid to share my testimony with nonmembers because:
“They might not be prepared to hear it.”
“They might reject it, and then I would feel rejected.”
“I’m not sure what to say or how to express my testimony.”
During the second week of our member-missionary class, I recognized a marvelous opportunity to share my testimony of the plan of salvation with a nonmember friend who had just had her first baby. By putting my trust in the Lord, I was able to express my testimony of God’s love. It was a wonderful experience that led to tears of joy and an undeniable feeling that God does love us. I followed up later by sharing a copy of the Book of Mormon with her, which she welcomed and agreed to read.

Nothing prepared me for the day when my wife of 10 years said she wanted to leave the Church and our marriage. True, each of us had lacked maturity, kindness, forgiveness, and love, but I wanted to keep trying to improve our marriage. She, however, did not.
I felt that I was honoring my covenants, studying the scriptures enthusiastically, and serving dutifully in my ward bishopric. But after my wife left, I became so bewildered, angry, and confused that I would wake up in the middle of the night in agony. Tears flowed, and I would do the only thing I could do—pray for hours.
I felt like the driver of a car who was driving safely but was then suddenly struck by another car careening out of control. Wasn’t my obedience supposed to shield me from calamity?
I wondered if ward members thought I was a fraud. I was a ward leader whose family was contrary to the image of a model family. How could I face ward members when my life felt broken? Because I felt inadequate, I concluded that I should ask to be released from my calling.
“If you struggle with feelings of inadequacy, you shouldn’t,” my bishop said. “We are all human and make mistakes.”
Five difficult years later, I noticed I had changed. I was more loving and forgiving. My soul was calmer. I saw my weaknesses as opportunities to be refined by the Holy Ghost (see Ether 12:27).
In time, I met a wonderful woman with two children from a previous marriage. She became my wife in 2020. I’ve been happy ever since. My nightly tears of anguish now flow as tears of gratitude. The Lord is pouring out so many blessings.

On a stopover in Rome, President Hinckley gave Father Leonard Boyle, Prefect of the Vatican Library, a copy of the Encyclopedia of Mormonism. The two men greeted each other like longtime friends. Father Boyle was impressed with President Hinckley’s knowledge of books and the techniques used to deter their aging. At the end of the meeting, the prefect observed in his thick Irish brogue, “President Hinckley is truly a very remarkable man.”

Illustrations by Mark Robison
“Say cheese!” the photographer said.
The camera clicked, and a light flashed. It was class picture day for Mae’s sixth-grade class. And she was in the center of the back row—again. That was where the tallest person in the class always stood. And she was always the tallest.
Mae didn’t like how she had to look down when she talked to her friends. She didn’t like how the boys looked up at her like she was a skyscraper. She didn’t like how her friends wore size extra small and she wore size medium. Every TV show she watched made it seem like girls were supposed to be small.
Mae’s friends waited for her as she climbed down the bleachers.
Kayla waved for Mae to hurry. “It’s finally lunchtime! I’m starving!” she said.
Mae smiled and headed to lunch with her friends. After eating their deliciously warm, cheesy pizza, they went outside.
“Let’s go play kickball!” Kayla and Lexi said, running ahead.
Mae started to run after them when someone called, “Hey!”
She turned around. It was Demi and some of her friends.
“Good thing they put you in the back row for pictures,” Demi said. “Otherwise you’d cover everyone up with your big head!”
Demi’s friends laughed. Mae looked around for Kayla and Lexi. They were far away now.
“Leave me alone,” Mae said.
“What’s a giant like you going to do about it?” Demi smirked.
Mae felt tears roll down her cheeks as she ran past Demi and her friends. She ran until she got to the back corner of the field, where no one would see her crying.
Mae felt sick to her stomach, and her heart hurt. She thought of the words to her favorite Primary song: “Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer?”
Mae knew she could pray anytime, anywhere. She found a quiet spot behind a tree and knelt down to pray.
“Heavenly Father, what Demi said made me feel bad. Please help me feel better. I love Thee and thank Thee for the nice friends I do have.”
Mae ended her prayer and continued to kneel quietly. She could hear kids playing across the field. She felt like someone had wrapped a blanket around her. It was like a warm hug!
Then she thought she heard the quietest voice in her mind say, “I love you, Mae.”
She smiled. She knew that Heavenly Father was answering her prayer. Even though Demi’s words still made her feel sad, she felt better.
Mae knew she was a child of God. There was nothing wrong with the way she looked! God loved her and cared about her. Maybe Demi wouldn’t say mean things if she knew she was a child of God too, she thought.
Then Mae got an idea. She smiled and prayed again.
“Heavenly Father,” she said, “help me forgive Demi and be kind to her. Please help her know that she is a child of God too. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
When Mae stood up, she didn’t feel sad anymore. Sure, she was still the tallest and probably would be for a few years. But she knew that Heavenly Father loved her, and that was all that mattered.

Over time, I noticed that when I paid attention to the words of the covenants that the temple patrons were making, my own covenants started becoming more meaningful to me.
For one, I have always believed the truth that families can be eternal through the temple sealing. And helping patrons do work for their ancestors and seeing their deep love for their families inspired me to do my own family history work. I was able to do ordinances for my aunt and my grandmother who had passed away, and this made the blessings of those covenants become so precious to me.

There was a heightened feeling of excitement as members in the Bulawayo Zimbabwe Stake prepared to watch last April’s general conference live for the first time. Two satellite dishes were installed in two of the stake’s four chapels, and there was a big turnout, especially in the Nkulumane chapel.
Nolan Kumbirayi Chigede, a young man from the Nkulumane First Ward, said, “I am very happy to be here.” He later added that he came “with an open heart, because I knew the servants of the Lord would be speaking to me.”
Commenting on the success of this first satellite broadcast, and what it means for the stake to see general conference live, stake president Tasara Makasi said that members have been drawn closer to the Church leaders and hence feel more a part of this one big gospel family.