Gospel Story Finder

Beehives from the Vacaville Third Ward, Vacaville California Stake, decided to do something about the environment in their area, and started their own ward recycling program, calling it “BEE-A-RECYCLER.”
The Beehives sent a sign-up sheet around the ward for those who wanted to participate, and twice a month the girls went to those homes, picking up the plastic, newspapers, glass, and aluminum that were set out for them. They then placed thank-you notes on each door. Everyone who participated felt they were making a real contribution toward helping the environment.

When I reflect on my life there has never been a moment when I doubted that the Church was true. In my youth, raised in a Mormon community, testimony was never a question among my peers because virtually all of our activities centered on the Church. Belief was automatic. Without seminary there was almost no dialogue about our knowledge or our understanding of the gospel. The Church was just there and we were a part of it. Then I was called to serve a full-time mission in the Spanish-American Mission, working with the Mexican people.
My companion and I entered the mission field at the same time and for some reason, unknown to us, we were assigned to begin our missionary labors together. Neither one of us knew the Spanish language, and both of us were virtually illiterate in the gospel. (This was before there were any Missionary Training Centers.) We were timid, untrained, and a little frightened, but eager to start to work.
In those days there were very few member referrals. We knocked on doors from morning to night and did our best to communicate with the Mexican people, using a few words of Spanish and a lot of English. For the first time in my life I was required to bear my testimony to nonmembers who had little knowledge or respect for the Church. It was a challenging and humbling experience.
One day, to our surprise, we met a couple who brought out a Book of Mormon, saying that in their church they also used this sacred book as scripture. We were overjoyed until they began to criticize us and mock the doctrines of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We discovered that they were missionaries from another religion who had been serving for 11 years. They were very knowledgeable and skilled in using the scriptures. My companion and I were no match for them. We were just boys fresh off the farm. They totally intimidated us, demeaned us, and tried to destroy our faith. In my heart I prayed for divine help.
Then, as I looked at that couple, a remarkable feeling came over me. For the first time in my life I felt the power of the Spirit rest upon me. Although I was somewhat ignorant, unlearned in the things of the gospel and the world, there was an absolute assurance that I held the holy priesthood of God and that they did not! That I was His minister of truth and they were not! With all the power of my soul I told them that I knew we were just boys and that we were not experts in the doctrine of our religion, but I knew that what we were doing was correct, that the Church was true, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. They were silenced. They could not refute my testimony.
The testimony I bore that day was different than any other I had ever given. It was not a passive thing, nor simply an accepted thing. It was real. I knew it. And my testimony which began at that moment has grown stronger and stronger every day of my life. There is no doubt, you see, for it is true!

At school she would often sing “I Am a Child of God” out loud. Soon all of the teachers in her school learned the words. Sometimes they would even sing along.
When schools closed because of COVID-19, her teachers remembered Victoria’s song. They asked if she would send a video of herself singing “I Am a Child of God” to help cheer them up. Victoria and her little sister decided to sing the song together for the video. They wanted to surprise their teachers and help them smile, so they learned to sing it in Arabic too!
Victoria followed Jesus by cheering up her teachers. Turn the page to read a story about how Jesus helped others.

My first examples are our Mormon pioneers. Their epic sacrifices of lives, family relationships, homes, and comforts are at the foundation of the restored gospel. Sarah Rich spoke for what motivated these pioneers when she described her husband, Charles, being called away on a mission: “This truly was a trying time for me as well as for my husband; but duty called us to part for a season and knowing that we [were] obeying the will of the Lord, we felt to sacrifice our own feelings in order to help establish the work … of helping to build up the Kingdom of God on earth.”

Growing up in a small village in Côte d’Ivoire, Elder D. Martin Goury dreamed of becoming a clergyman and serving others.
In October 1992, while in London, England, learning English and getting an education, he met Latter-day Saint missionaries. The missionaries, one of whom was the only native French-speaking missionary in London, gave Elder Goury a copy of the Book of Mormon in French.
He started reading the book and soon received a witness of its truthfulness. When a new pair of missionaries came to his apartment a few months later, he joined the Church. “I remember being very happy,” he said.
His joy increased as the missionaries taught him about the priesthood. “They explained the meaning of the priesthood and how I could use that to serve other people. For me, that was my dream coming true,” Elder Goury said. “I was delighted.”

Doesn’t he realize he’s making us late for an appointment with the best family I’ve ever taught? my mind screamed as I turned my bike around. I was a missionary in the Taiwan Taipei Mission, and my new companion, Elder Loo, was lagging behind as usual.
I found him talking to a woman who was angrily holding a thick stick in one hand and clenching the arm of a small, whimpering boy with the other. I listened as Elder Loo tried to talk her out of beating the boy. She left without the stick.
When we finally arrived at our destination, my companion taught the family about “the first and great commandment,” to love the Lord. “And the second is like unto it,” he read, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matt. 22:38–39).
I flinched. Although I had taught this discussion many times, it was as if I were hearing the scripture for the first time. I would have helped that little boy if we hadn’t been late, I rationalized. But I couldn’t convince myself.
Following a beautiful discussion on sacrifice and service, we made our way to our next appointment. But before we got far, I realized I was again alone. Elder Loo was helping a drunken man who had wrecked his motorcycle.
As we peddled slowly through the crowded market, my companion stopped again. I watched as he knelt by a crying child who appeared to be lost. The child’s eyes were red and puffy, and his face was streaked with tears. We didn’t leave until Elder Loo had assurances from people who said they would locate the boy’s parents.
I followed in silence, my mind racing. Why hadn’t I noticed the crying child? Or the motorcyclist? Why did he see things I missed?
Then it dawned on me. He saw opportunities to serve because he looked for them. He didn’t trail behind because he was just enjoying the scenery; he was looking for people in need.
I wondered what I would see if I really looked.
The next morning I didn’t race ahead of my companion. We rode side by side, looking, listening, and ready to serve.
Since then, whenever I think no one needs my help, I slow down and take another look. It’s amazing what I see.

oh mommy look the
sidewalk is
leaking
she says rain but
I say
drippery
slippery
sidewalk goo
and my yellow boots
with the
button on the side
say
skwirk skwirk
and my
cabbage patch lunchbox
says
klinkety-plink
when it bumps against
my legs
as I waddle
through the black
blobs of
licorice-sticky
puddles

After I received my bachelor’s degree I worked for eight months as a statistician for a government agency. They knew I was going to graduate school, so it was a temporary job. While there, I learned a lot about myself. I found working with numbers and doing detail work very tedious and uninteresting for me. I determined to avoid that kind of job in the future.

At his Blue and Gold Banquet for Cub Scouts, David, a Bear Scout, learned a valuable lesson. He was happy when he won a table centerpiece from the banquet, complete with a gold star that had a number one written on it. But another boy at the banquet took David’s star when he lost his own. The other boy’s father made him give it back. “I was really mad at first,” David says. But then he realized, “It wasn’t worth fighting over.” David set an example by giving the other Cub Scout the star since he wanted it so badly.

My husband and I were traveling to his parents’ home after a camping trip. With little cell service, we decided to use our GPS. We turned it on and set it on the shortest route to their home.
With just an hour or so to go, the GPS directed us to turn left onto a dirt road off the main highway. Though we were a bit confused by the directions, we trusted in the GPS and continued along this route. Before long, we were navigating some muddy sections on the road due to the scattered rain showers. At each puddle we encountered, we considered turning around, but we pushed forward. We felt we’d gone too far to turn back.
We reached a puddle that was so large, we got stuck.
We were alone in the mountains (besides wild animals). We hadn’t seen more than a couple vehicles since we’d left the main highway.
One thing was certain: there was no way we could get our car out of the mud on our own. In that moment, I was terrified. And in hindsight, there were some important parallels about trust that I drew from this experience.
When we prayed to God for help after getting stuck, He brought peace to our hearts, and we trusted His prompting. Then we acted in faith. We walked a quarter of a mile to find a spot where we had cell service and could call our family. We told them what had happened and were able to give them a good idea of our location. Then we waited.
Near midnight, after being stuck for more than six hours, our family arrived to help. I felt an intense measure of relief and joy as we made gradual progress down the mountain toward their home, where dinner was waiting for us.

When I was growing up, my parents never took my siblings and me to church. We were not a religious family. For me, Sunday was just a day off from school when we could play. I thought my life was complete. It wasn’t until a friend showed me what I was missing that I realized how empty my life had been.
When I was 11 or 12, my mother was baptized into the Church. She would often ask me if I wanted to go to church with her, and I always said no. When we moved to Texas the summer before my junior year in high school, I still didn’t go to church with her.
At the beginning of the school year I had no friends. After a few weeks, I became friends with Brad. He was in some of my classes. We would talk in class but never did anything outside of school.
One day my mom took me and my four siblings to church with her. I went, hoping to leave as soon as possible. When we sat down, I looked up and saw Brad preparing to bless the sacrament. Brad saw me as well.
The next day at school, Brad came to me and said, “I didn’t know you were a Latter-day Saint.”
I replied, “I’m not.”
Pretty soon Brad was taking me to Mutual, youth conference, and I was even coming to church every Sunday.
Having never read the Bible, I didn’t know much about Jesus Christ. Brad gave me a Book of Mormon, and I started to read it. From that time, there was a visible change in my life for the better. I knew what I was reading was true. The Holy Ghost bore witness of it. It was through the Book of Mormon that I came to know Jesus Christ and all He has done for me. I changed the way I acted. I started living the way the Bible and Book of Mormon told me I should live.
One day Brad finally asked me, “Donny, what do we have to do to get you baptized?” I had never thought about it before, but it felt like the right thing to do. On June 26, 2000, Brad baptized me into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Three months later, I baptized my older brother, Dan. We are both currently serving missions.
Looking back at how I felt about religion before, I have gained so much. Now I know my Savior Jesus Christ. I have the scriptures to guide me. And I have the gift of the Holy Ghost, who bears witness of the truth.

Sam tiptoed on stocking feet to the front door. Setting her ice skates gently on the floor so as not to make a sound, she reached for her heavy winter boots. She hadn’t bothered to clean them when she came in yesterday, and they were caked with grime.
No matter. Sam had something more important to think about—getting to the rink the moment it opened. That’s when the skating was best—before the crowds arrived and the ice was still like glass. Tugging on her boots over thick wool socks, she pretended to not notice the mess they’d left on the floor.
“Samantha, is that you?” Mom must have heard her, after all.
Sam stood with her hand on the doorknob, debating whether to answer or slip out quietly. She was tempted to pretend she hadn’t heard her mother’s voice. On the other hand, maybe she could persuade her mother to let her help with the housework later in the day. The dirty floor wasn’t going anywhere, was it?
“Coming, Mom,” she called before yanking off her boots and trudging to the kitchen.
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, her head cradled in her hands. When she glanced up, Sam noticed how pale her mother looked. “Mom,” she blurted before her mother could say a word, “would you mind if I clean the floor later? I promised Judy I’d meet her at the rink first thing this morning.”
Sam thought she detected a flicker of disappointment in her mother’s eyes, but she just smiled. “No, that’s fine, Sam. But would you mind picking up some orange juice and cold medicine at the market? I think I’ve come down with the flu, and I just don’t feel up to going out today.”
“Sure, Mom.” Sam tried to ignore the dark circles etched under her mother’s eyes. “Will it be OK, though, if I pick them up after I’m through skating? Otherwise, I’ll be late getting to the rink.”
“That’ll be fine,” her mother said agreeably.
Sam pocketed the money her mother gave her, then raced to put her boots back on. She’d have to run all the way to the rink if she didn’t want to be late.
Sam arrived at the rink just as it was opening. Judy stood at the door, waiting for her. “Guess what—we’re the only ones here!” she exclaimed gleefully. “We’ll have the whole place to ourselves for a while.”
As they laced up their skates in silence, Sam found herself reliving the moments with her mother in the kitchen. Suddenly it struck her—Mom always worked on Saturdays! Obviously, she wasn’t going in today. Sam knew how hard her mother tried to never miss work. She was paid by the hour, so every day missed, she said, meant a smaller paycheck that week.
“Hey, slowpoke,” Judy teased as she stood up on her skates and clomped over to the ice, “if you don’t hurry up, they’ll be closing this place for the night!”
Sam had grown so absorbed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t finished lacing up her first skate yet. Giving Judy a sheepish grin, she bent over her skates and tried to concentrate.
At last she made it onto the ice. Judy chattered gaily as they glided along. It was a perfect day for skating. The ice was smooth, with barely a nick in it, and there were still only a few other skaters. The subzero temperatures outdoors must have kept the usual crowd at home.
Still, Sam found herself straining to be cheerful. Her enthusiasm for skating seemed to have deserted her this morning. Images of her mother’s pale face kept floating before her eyes.
“Are you OK, Sam?” Judy was tugging at her sleeve.
“Mom’s sick, and I’m worried about her,” Sam confessed.
Judy looked at her in surprise. Sam wasn’t one to worry, and she seldom allowed anything to interfere with having fun. “Do you want to go home?”
“Maybe I’d better. Do you mind?”
“It’s OK with me,” her friend said, smiling at her. “I’m getting cold, anyhow.”
Sam suddenly felt closer to Judy than she’d ever felt before.
When she got home, Sam put the medicine on the table and the juice in the refrigerator. Then she peeked in at her mother, who lay sleeping in her bed, her tired-looking bedspread pulled up under her chin. Sam quietly got the puffy new comforter from her own bed and gently put it over her mother.
She tiptoed from the room, careful not to awaken her mother. If she hurried and worked quietly, maybe she could get the housework done before Mom woke up. Her mother had asked only that Sam tidy up her own room and sweep the floors, but why couldn’t she do all the cleaning today? Glancing at the kitchen clock, she set herself the task of getting as much accomplished as she could in an hour.
The minutes flew by as she dusted, swept, and scrubbed. The pungent scent of lemon oil polish announced the last task being done. Already the kitchen floor glistened and the countertop shone.
Mom walked in just as Sam was putting away the furniture polish. “I thought I heard feet padding down the hall.”
“Look, Mom,” Sam said, taking her mother by the hand and leading her through the apartment. As she showed off her handiwork, she stole a look at her mother’s face. She wasn’t sure which of them was happier.

The Day My Mom Almost Enrolled in Preschool! Who’s more worried about the first day of preschool, Jordan or his mom? And who feels better about it first?Dianne Dannhaus3–5 years

It’s fun to go out in the wintertime
And frolic to and fro.
I like to look for footprints
Of creatures in the snow.
Where bread was thrown, the birds have left
Their footprints everywhere.
And frisky squirrels have scampered around,
Leaving footprints here and there.
My neighbor’s dog has chased a cat—
I see their footprints too.
And all around my snow-filled yard
Are footprints that are new.
Do you know who belongs to them?
I do. It’s plain to see
Those footprints in the snow are mine!
They’ve followed after me.

The river is slow moving, so the girls had to paddle all the way. There’s no riding the current here. After a break for lunch and a few swampy portages, camp was in sight. The race was on to see who could be first on the beach. Those who had learned to paddle together had the advantage. Dawn Queen said, “Before we stopped for lunch, we were the last canoe, because we kept arguing with each other. But when we learned to work together, we passed everyone and finished first. It worked better when we encouraged each other.” A lesson about canoes and a lesson for life.

Sara couldn’t wait to play with Jami. She called for her twin sister Sadie to hurry. It was the first time Jami could play all week, and Sara didn’t want to waste a single moment. It was always fun to play with Jami.
Jami opened the door as soon as she knocked, and Sara could smell popcorn before they even got inside.
“Mmm, I love popcorn,” Sadie said.
“My mom made it so we could snack and watch TV.” Jami hurried them into the kitchen.
They each got a bowl of popcorn to take into the family room, and Jami picked up the remote. “You got here just in time,” she said.
“Just in time for what?” Sara asked, munching on a handful of popcorn. It was so buttery! Just how she liked it.
“My favorite show!”
As soon as the show came on, Sara started to feel uneasy. Her mom had told her she wasn’t supposed to watch this show. She looked at Sadie, and Sadie seemed worried too.
“What should we do?” Sadie whispered.
Sara didn’t want to hurt her friend’s feelings, but she was starting to feel uncomfortable. After a minute, she said, “Um, Jami? We aren’t supposed to watch this show.”
“Why not?”
“Our mom says it isn’t a good show,” Sadie said.
Jami shrugged. “I watch shows on this channel all the time. I think it’s fine.”
Sara wondered if Jami was right. Maybe the show really wasn’t that bad. She didn’t say anything for another minute, but then one of the characters said some bad words. I guess Mom was right about this show, Sara thought.
Sadie gave her another look. Sara could tell she wasn’t feeling good about this either. Sara bit her lip.
“Well, our mom says we can’t watch it, so we’d better change the channel,” Sadie said.
“Just don’t tell her you watched it. It’ll be fine,” Jami said, not even taking her eyes off the screen. “You can come to my house and watch it every day if you want. Your mom will never know.”
Sara thought about that, but watching this show didn’t feel right, and lying to their mom didn’t feel right either. Sadie shook her head. She’d barely touched her popcorn. Sara didn’t feel like she could eat any more either. Her stomach was tight with worry.
“But I don’t feel good about watching it,” Sara said.
“Me neither,” Sadie agreed.
Jami shrugged. “Well, I want to watch it. You can stay and watch with me, or you can go home.”
“Should we stay?” Sadie whispered.
Sara shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I guess we’re going home,” Sadie told Jami.
“OK. See you later,” Jami said.
Sara got up and followed Sadie out the front door. She felt better now that they weren’t watching the show anymore, but she was sad that playing with Jami hadn’t turned out like she’d hoped.
When they got home, Mom looked surprised. “What are you doing home so soon? Couldn’t Jami play?”
“She wanted to watch a show you told us not to watch. We didn’t feel good about it,” Sara said.
Mom nodded. “Thank you for being obedient. I’m glad you didn’t stay when it didn’t feel right.”
“Me too,” Sara said.
Sadie sighed. “Yeah, but what are we supposed to do now?”
“We could watch a different show, I guess. Or play a game?” Sara suggested.
“Yeah,” Sadie said, “let’s pick something we feel good about doing.” She ran to the cupboard to find a game. “And let’s see if Jami wants to play too!”

Jump in a cold swimming pool and suddenly all your senses will be aware of the water. You know water surrounds you.
But if you stand on the side and watch someone else jump in the water, does it mean that water has nothing to do with you? No, of course not. You still drink water, feel rain on your face, bathe, know that water is in every plant and animal around you, and even realize that your own body is made up mostly of water.
Sometimes, as a young woman, you might see young men and the priesthood as someone else doing the swimming and so think priesthood has nothing to do with you. In fact, the priesthood of God is as important to you spiritually as the water you drink is physically.

Church President Thomas S. Monson visited Elder Smith on the latter’s birthday, January 9, 2013. “Eldred Smith is my good friend,” said President Monson. “We have traveled many miles together. I love and respect this man.”

“I’d like to say that I grew up in the Church,” says Bert, “but I didn’t. I’m considered a convert by Church standards, because I wasn’t baptized until I was twelve, although I went to Primary. I came from a part-member family.”
Bert’s father, a tough, determined, highly-respected police officer, refused to give permission for his son’s baptism; then, “when I was twelve, I really got emphatic. He finally consented, and my brother and I were both baptized. I was ordained a deacon shortly after that.” Within a year, however, Bert was enrolled in a military boarding school, complete with its own non-denominational Protestant church. During the next five years, he recalls, the influence of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints “just started fading away.”

Entering the United States Navy in the closing months of World War II was a challenging experience for me. I learned of brave deeds, acts of valor, and examples of courage. One best remembered was the quiet courage of an eighteen-year-old seaman—not of our faith—who was not too proud to pray. Of 250 men in the company, he was the only one who each night knelt down by the side of his bunk, at times amidst the jeers of the curious and the jests of unbelievers, and, with bowed head, prayed to God. He never wavered. He never faltered. He had courage.