Gospel Story Finder

Priests who are 16 years old can also assist in missionary work, something that Reuben, Randy, and Ethan recently had the opportunity to do.

Ethan says that going out with the missionaries taught him the importance of being a hard worker. “We would be walking down the street, and the missionaries would talk to perfect strangers. They would say, ‘Hello,’ or, ‘Would you like to hear this message we have?’” Ethan says. “A lot of people would ignore the missionaries or say, ‘No, thank you,’ but the missionaries would keep on trying. It was a real lesson to me that I need to be persistent when I serve a mission.”

Helping with missionary work was also an eye-opener after visiting less-active members in the ward. “It’s nice to know that there are people who come to church every week, but there are many people who don’t come. And knowing they’re out there really makes me want to try to help them come back to church. It’s increased my awareness,” Ethan says.

Let me give you an example of the principle of reaching out from the childhood of Thomas S. Monson, the president of the Church:
Again Christmastime had come. We were preparing for the oven a gigantic turkey and anticipating the savory feast that awaited. A neighborhood pal of mine asked a startling question: “What does turkey taste like?”
I responded, “Oh, about like chicken tastes.”
Again a question: “What does chicken taste like?”
It was then that I realized my friend had never eaten chicken or turkey. I asked what his family was going to have for Christmas dinner. There was no prompt response, just a downcast glance and the comment, “I dunno. There’s nothing in the house.”
I pondered a solution. There was none. I had no turkeys, no chickens, no money. Then I remembered I did have two pet rabbits. Immediately I took them to my friend and handed the box to him with the comment, “Here, take these two rabbits. They’re good to eat—just like chicken.”
He took the box, climbed the fence, and headed for home—a Christmas dinner safely assured. Tears came easily to me as I closed the door to the empty rabbit hutch. But I was not sad. A warmth, a feeling of indescribable joy, filled my heart. It was a memorable Christmas. 34

Mia was sad. It was time for bed, and she couldn’t find her stuffed cat, Tinkerbell. Everybody helped her look—Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, and Dad. No Tinkerbell.
They searched all over. They looked under the bed. They looked behind the couch. They even looked under the sink. Still no Tinkerbell.
“We’re not having much luck, are we?” Mom said.
“No,” Mia said with a frown.
“I don’t know where Tinkerbell is,” Mom said. “But there’s someone who does know.”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “Who?”
“Heavenly Father knows. Should we say a prayer and ask Him for help?”
Mia nodded and knelt down. Everyone stopped searching and knelt down too.
“Heavenly Father, I miss Tinkerbell. Please help us find her. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen,” Mia prayed.
“Now we need to listen and think so the Holy Ghost can help us find Tinkerbell,” Dad said. They were all quiet for a little while.
Mom looked at Mia. “Where do you think Tinkerbell is?”
“In the closet,” Mia said.
Everybody checked a closet. But there was still no Tinkerbell. Suddenly Mom had an idea. “This morning I put your backpack in the upstairs closet. We didn’t check there yet. Maybe Tinkerbell is there.”
Mia and Mom ran upstairs to check. They opened the closet. Tinkerbell was in the backpack!
Mia gave Tinkerbell a great big hug. Mia and Mom knelt down right there and thanked Heavenly Father.

More than 2,500 Mexican Latter-day Saints gathered on 25 June 1989 for the creation of the Tecalco Mexico Stake, about thirty miles south of Mexico City. It was the one-hundredth stake organized in that country. Among the members of the new stake was Fidencia García de Rojas—at age 106 the oldest Church member in Mexico. The Church in Mexico had passed yet another historic milestone during the eighty-eight years that Fidencia had been a member.
When Sister Fidencia died a month and a half later, President Felipe Hernández Luis of the Tecalco stake commented that those attending the funeral were part of another historic moment—the death of a Mexican pioneer.
Sister Fidencia began attending Latter-day Saint church meetings sometime between 1889 and 1901. During that period, the Church had closed the Mexican Mission. As a result, Church leaders in Mexico had little direction from Church headquarters, and many units deviated from standard doctrines and practices. During this time, Sister Fidencia and her family—not yet members of the Church—attended the Tecalco Branch.
When President Ammon M. Tenney came to Tecalco in 1901 to reestablish the branch after the mission reopened, the leader of the branch, Julian Rojas, was initially unwilling to relinquish control. Brother Rojas finally relented, and President Tenney rebaptized him and seventy-five others on August 18. One month later, President Tenney baptized Fidencia, her parents, and her grandparents. From that day on, Sister Fidencia dedicated her life to serving the Lord.
She recalled that after the Tecalco Branch was again in contact with Church headquarters, people began joining the Church. The first full-time missionaries soon arrived, and Fidencia’s parents built an extra room onto their house for the missionaries to live in. As membership grew, Sister Fidencia was among the group of members and missionaries who worked hard to buy a building lot for a Latter-day Saint chapel. She also helped missionaries in nearby Ozumba with their room, clothes, and food, and she worked at the Mexican mission home.
During her time at the mission home, the American missionaries taught Sister Fidencia to sing hymns in Spanish and English. She later joined the legendary Tecalco Choir and sang with the choir until just a few years before her death.
In 1910, Mexico entered a civil war that lasted, off and on, through the 1930s. In August 1913, American missionaries had to leave the country, and Mexican leaders were once again left to themselves. But the Church was well established by then, and the civil war did not seriously impede Mexican Saints from administering the Church. They did so for more than four years.
Sister Fidencia witnessed an even greater disruption of the Church in Mexico in 1936, when a large body of members known as the Third Convention broke away from the main body of Mexican Saints.
By 1942, however, Arwell L. Pierce, newly called president of the Mexican Mission, had begun working to resolve misunderstandings. And in 1946, President George Albert Smith, eighth President of the Church, presided over a reunification conference in Mexico City. During the conference, more than twelve hundred Third Conventionists returned to the Church. Sister Fidencia attended the conference and visited with President Smith in her home. Hers was the first home President Smith visited when the traveled to Tecalco.
Other milestones for the Church in Mexico began to occur more rapidly as Sister Fidencia grew older. Together with family and other Church members, she made several trips to the Arizona Temple over the years to do temple work for herself and her family. In 1972 she attended the Mexico City area conference. And in 1983 she attended the dedication of the Mexico City Temple. During these years she remained dedicated to her family, to missionary work, and to her Church callings, two of which were particularly important to her.
As a Primary teacher, Sister Fidencia loved to teach children the gospel through stories, especially Old Testament stories. She gave her students a love of the scriptures, which she read daily. And she often recited from memory facts and stories from the lives of all of the latter-day prophets. She taught many of her own grandchildren in that calling.
As a visiting teacher, Sister Fidencia completed forty consecutive years of 100-percent visiting teaching. In February 1978, she received commendation for this accomplishment from Relief Society and mission leaders, who expressed appreciation for her service and compassion.
Sister Fidencia’s posterity remembers her for an even greater accomplishment: bringing five generations of their family into the Church. She and her first husband, Aniceto Rojas, the son of Julian Rojas of the early Tecalco Branch, had six children, two of whom survived to have children and grandchildren of their own. She and her second husband, Manuel Rosas, had three children.
Sister Fidencia survived both of her husbands and lived to see many grandchildren and great-grandchildren serve missions. Many of her descendants have served and continue to serve faithfully as leaders among the Mexican Saints.
To her family, the most precious gift Grandmother Fidencia left was the gospel of Jesus Christ. For her fellow Saints, Sister Fidencia’s many years of humble service left a legacy that spanned almost an entire century—a century during which Church members in Mexico struggled, overcame, and finally flourished.

Samantha Mellors was saddened, along with her classmates, when a popular teacher at her school died of cancer. Many of the students were deeply affected by the death of their teacher. Even grief counseling didn’t seem to help. So a school adviser asked Samantha, a Mia Maid in the Penrith Ward, Sydney Australia Hebersham Stake, to share her beliefs about life after death with small groups of students.
“Some of the questions that were asked were really hard to answer, but after some thought I was able to answer the questions with ease. A number of girls came up to me after the discussions and told me how happy they were to know they could see other family members and our teacher again,” says Samantha.

Another of the great blessings of my life has been to feel the closeness of heaven during those moments when I sit at the bedside of people as they pass away. Early one morning some years ago, I entered the hospital room of a faithful Latter-day Saint widow who had cancer. Two of her daughters were sitting with her. As I went to her bedside, I quickly discovered that she was no longer suffering, because she had just died.

In that moment of death, the room was filled with peace. Her daughters had a sweet sadness, but their hearts were filled with faith. They knew that their mother was not gone but had returned home. Even in our moments of deepest grief, in the moments when time stands still and life seems so unfair, we can find comfort in our Savior because He suffered as well. It was a privilege for me to be in that room.

You probably have not seen too many photos of General Authorities in their young adult years with facial hair that would disqualify them from enrolling at BYU. Well, I was not then a member of the Church. I was a university student working part-time at McDonald’s, where I met a young woman who was sufficiently alert to see some potential in me and to encourage our relationship, for which I am most grateful. She would often arrange with the manager—unbeknownst to me—for us to be assigned the closing shift together. As she had no transport home, I would give her a lift, and we quickly fell in love. It was she who introduced me to the true gospel of Jesus Christ.
So I recommend McDonald’s! And I recommend finding an eternal companion who will always love the Lord first.

In 1982, we moved to Hemel Hempstead (Hertfordshire). The meetings were now consolidated, and I stayed for the whole three hours. I was called as the elders quorum president. An elderly missionary couple were assigned to visit my home, and for the first time Rajinder said a prayer and felt the Spirit. I subsequently baptised her. We were later sealed in the London England Temple with our children.

Illustrations by Maryn Roos
Here’s the new Friend maga …
… zine.
Hey, I’ll bet my friend Franco would love this magazine. I could give it to him when we’re finished reading it.
I think Audrey would love it too. I want to give it to her.
Mommm!
Relax kids. I’ll buy another copy. In the meantime, find a fair way to decide who gets this one.
I guess the question is, who wants it more? I want it so much that I would be willing to …
… let me paint your fingernails?
Ewwww!
Do you want it badly enough that you would wear my stinky old sneakers to school for a day?
I’m afraid they’d set off the fire alarm.
Hey, Audrey. Here’s a copy of my favorite magazine. I thought you might like it.
Thanks, Mandy. Um, what happened to the cute shoes you usually wear?

Carl and his friend Spencer liked to play with toy race cars and soldiers. One day, Spencer had to go home before they were finished playing.
“What a mess you boys made!” Mommy said. “You’d better clean your room before dinner.”
Carl frowned. He didn’t think he could ever put away all the toys that he and Spencer had accidentally spilled. He started to pick them up one by one, but there were so many! He went to the kitchen, where Mommy was cooking. “It’s too hard to clean my room.”
His sister, Kimberly, was setting the table. “Cleaning is easy,” she said.
Mommy kept slicing vegetables. “Try a little harder,” she said.
Carl went back to his room and picked up a few race cars, but there were many more still on the floor. “I’ll be cleaning forever!” he thought. He went back to the kitchen and said, “It’s too hard to clean my room.”
“Cleaning is easy,” Kimberly said again. She finished setting the table and disappeared down the hall.
Daddy was stirring juice. “You can do it,” he said. “You made the mess, so cleaning it up is your special job.”
Carl went back to his room and picked up several soldiers. But there were still many more on the floor, and he was getting tired. “Spencer helped make this mess, and he went home and no one is helping me clean it up,” he thought. “It isn’t fair!”
He ran back to the kitchen. “The mess is too big to clean up by myself,” he wailed.
Mommy’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe you have too many toys,” she teased. “Would it be easier to clean your room if we gave some of them away?”
“No!” Carl stomped back to his room in tears.
When he opened the door, he could hardly believe his eyes! There were no more toys on the floor. He wiped away his tears and peeked into the toy box. Like magic, race cars and soldiers were stacked neatly inside. Then he saw Kimberly hiding in the corner.
“Surprise!” she yelled.
“How did you clean my room so fast?” He was so happy!
“Cleaning is easy,” Kimberly said. “I’m older than you are, so some chores are easier for me. Next time I’ll show you a game I learned that helps me to clean faster.”
“But why did you clean my room?” Carl asked. “Daddy said it was my special job.”
“Jesus helps us to do things that are hard. This time, I think He wanted me to help you with your special job.” She hugged Carl. “Jesus wants us to make other people happy.”
Carl was happy because Kimberly had helped him. He was so happy that he wanted to please Jesus by making others happy, too. He started by squeezing Kimberly tight and saying, “Thank you!”

Allie looked around Grandfather Snow’s office in the Salt Lake Temple. “It’s late! We’re the only ones here.”
“Sorry, my dear,” her grandpa said with a smile. “I’ve been telling you too many stories.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’ve always loved your stories.” Allie hugged her grandfather, Lorenzo Snow, the fifth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“I’ll walk you to the front entrance and let you out,” he said. “The night watchmen haven’t arrived yet, and the doors are all locked.” They walked out of his office into the hall.
Allie had married Noah Pond in a nearby room in the temple just three years ago. Now Noah was away in Sweden serving a mission. Allie missed him. But she knew he was serving the Lord, just as she and her family had done in Hawaii.
“Wait a moment, Allie,” Grandpa said. “I want to tell you something. Do you remember when President Wilford Woodruff died?”
Allie remembered well. It had only been a year ago, and Grandpa Snow had been worried about the responsibility of being the next President of the Church. He had prayed that President Woodruff would not die. When President Woodruff passed away, Grandpa had come to the Salt Lake Temple as soon as he heard the news.
To succeed means to be the next in line to fill a position. Ever since the deaths of the Prophet Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, the Lord has chosen the man who has been an Apostle for the longest time to become the next President of the Church.
“It was right here that the Lord Jesus Christ appeared to me. He told me to go right ahead and reorganize the First Presidency at once and not wait as had been done after the death of the previous presidents, and that I was to succeed President Woodruff,” Grandpa said.
Grandpa held out his hand. “He stood right here, about three feet above the floor. It looked as though He stood on a plate of solid gold.”
Allie stood very still as she felt the Spirit confirm the truth of these words. The Savior had appeared in this very spot in the temple and told her grandpa about his calling as President of the Church! Grandpa continued to describe the Savior’s hands, feet, face, and beautiful white robes. He said they were so white and bright that he could hardly look at the Savior.
Then Grandpa put his hand on her head. “Now, Granddaughter, I want you to remember that this is the testimony of your grandfather, that he told you with his own lips that he actually saw the Savior, here in the temple, and talked with Him face to face.”
Allie hugged Grandpa at the door and quietly made her way home. Her heart felt warm, and she knew that Jesus Christ really had appeared to Grandpa. The Savior lived, and He was the head of His Church. This was truly a night to remember.

Phoebe Carter was similarly led 750 miles (1,200 km) from Scarboro, Maine, to Kirtland, Ohio, in 1835. Phoebe was 28 years old when she determined to gather with Church members, even though she had to make her trek alone. As she later reported: “My friends marvelled at my course, as did I, but something within impelled me on. My mother’s grief at my leaving home was almost more than I could bear; and had it not been for the spirit within I should have faltered at the last. My mother told me she would rather see me buried than going thus alone into the heartless world. … ‘Phoebe,’ she said, impressively, ‘will you come back to me if you find Mormonism false?’ I answered thrice, ‘Yes, mother, I will.’ … When the time came for my departure I dared not trust myself to say farewell, so I wrote my good-bye to each, and leaving them on my table, ran down stairs and jumped into the carriage. Thus I left my beloved home of childhood to link my life with the Saints of God.”6

At that point Phoebe had no idea that her footsteps of faith would lead her on a journey much longer than the 750 miles (1,200 km) to Kirtland. She would marry Wilford Woodruff and join with him in journeying through Missouri to Nauvoo and then on the 1,350-mile (2,170-km) trek through wilderness lands to the Great Salt Lake Valley.

A small note on the keyboard read, “This computer is reserved for Samuel at 5:00 a.m.” In response to his stake president’s challenge for the stake to index one million names, 14-year-old Samuel B. of Utah started getting up at 5:00 a.m. so that he could index before school. With one computer in the home and seven siblings with homework to do, Samuel had to sacrifice some sleep in order to get time on the computer.
But Samuel’s enthusiasm spread to the rest of his family. Soon his brother Nathan sacrificed basketball time and his sister Ivyllyn sacrificed reading time in order to index. “I’ve never been challenged as much by my children,” Samuel’s father says. “Until they got involved, I thought indexing was hard. They taught me that it could be easy and fun.” The following New Year’s Eve, the children were rushing to finish their yearly indexing goals before midnight.

Winston Churchill spoke of the sharp agate points upon which the ponderous balance of destiny turns. Every one of us has in our own lives those sharp agate points upon which the ponderous balance of our destinies turn. Thirteen years ago, my stake president, John K. Edmunds, called me to meet him for lunch in a downtown Chicago restaurant. (We were both practicing law in that city at the time.) I was then a counselor in the Sunday School superintendency of one of the wards in his stake. He called me to a stake mission and to serve as a counselor in the stake mission presidency. At that time, I was working all day and every evening of the week and all day Saturday—excluding Sunday, as has always been my practice. I was working morning, noon, and night six days a week on some very taxing assignments for the law firm that employed me. He called me on a stake mission and told me—as was his wont, perfectly unyielding, without any compromise—that I would be expected to give forty hours of proselyting time per month in addition to attending meetings, bringing investigators to church, and doing the gospel study I would need to qualify myself as a stake missionary. I said to myself at that time that this was a turning point in my life; this was a test of my faith. Would I have the faith necessary to accept that position in view of the requirements of my employment? Even at that time, but more surely as I have looked back on it, I could recognize this as one of those sharp agate points that Churchill identified. Fortunately for me I mustered the faith, accepted the call, and said to my president, “If the Lord wants me to serve in that position—and I do honor the calling as coming from the Lord through his servant—he will make it possible for me to do it. When do you want me to start?”

He said, “I have an appointment I’d like you to keep tonight.”

I got my affairs in order and began that evening. Effective with that calling to a stake mission, I rarely ever worked after five o’clock again in the remaining course of my law practice, and still I realized greater success than I had ever realized by any measure that a young man could choose for success in his chosen profession. The Lord made it up to me in countless ways that I have no time and indeed no ability to particularize for you, but I can simply tell you that my faith was rewarded in every possible way.

More important to me, as I look back, is the certainty with which I can see that this calling to a stake mission changed the direction of my life and set me on a course that brought me here in measurable, deliberate, and direct steps to stand before you today. As I began to do the work of that missionary calling, I began to reevaluate the course on which I had set myself professionally, and I began to think about whether I wanted to spend the rest of my life in that particular law practice. Six months later, when I received a renewed offer of a position in law teaching, I accepted it. I would never have accepted that position if it had not been for my calling to a stake mission. That calling also offered me an opportunity to grow in faith and devotion and loyalty to the leadership of the Church. In every way I can measure it was a turning point in my life.

My new friend Jonah wrote: “I often feel nervous on my way to school in the morning. I worry about things like being late, forgetting something, and taking tests. When I was 10, I started saying prayers on my drive to school with my mom. I ask for the help I need, and I pray for my family too. I also think of the things I’m grateful for. [Praying to Heavenly Father has] helped me. Sometimes I don’t feel the relief right as I get out of the car, but by the time I’m at my classroom, I feel peaceful.”

Jonah’s faith is growing as he prays every day and then moves forward.

During my growing-up years in the small farming community of Spring City, Utah, an opportunity afforded itself each summer to be with my father alone for two weeks herding sheep in the mountain range of the Manti-La Sal. On one occasion the fog rested heavily in the area to the extent that you could not see your outstretched hand in front of you, and the evening was drawing nigh.
My father suggested that I return to camp, and he would soon follow. I remember questioning how I would be able to find the camp amidst the fog. My father simply said to me, “Give the horse the reins, and he will get you to camp.” Following this counsel, I loosened my grip on the reins, and with encouragement to the horse, the journey began. At times I would be struck in the face by a low-hanging limb I couldn’t see or have my leg brush close to a tree. Eventually, the horse came to a complete stop, and the silhouette of the camp was in view.
Sometimes we may not always be able to immediately find the desired way before us, but the wisdom of those who have gone before, coupled with the wisdom of those who are with us still, will be our guide if we let them have the reins.

A simple thing happened many years ago that I have always remembered because it caused me to think about the Savior’s mission. Although it was just a childish incident, it has some meaning. It happened when our twins were only about five years old. They were just learning to ride their bicycles. As I glanced out the window, I saw them speeding down the street on their bikes going very fast! Perhaps they were going a little too fast for their level of ability, because all of a sudden Adam had a terrible crash! He was tangled up in the wreck, and all I could see was a twist of handlebars and tires and arms and legs. His little twin brother, Aaron, saw the whole thing happen, and immediately he skidded to a stop and jumped off his bike. He threw it down and ran to the aid of his brother, whom he loved very much. These little twins truly were of one heart. If one hurt, so did the other. If one got tickled, they both laughed. If one started a sentence, the other could complete it. What one felt, the other did also. So it was painful for Aaron to see Adam crash! Adam was a mess. He had skinned knees, he was bleeding from a head wound, his pride was damaged, and he was crying. In a fairly gentle five-year-old way, Aaron helped his brother get untangled from the crash, he checked out the wounds, and then he did the dearest thing. He picked his brother up and carried him home. Or tried to. This wasn’t very easy because they were the same size, but he tried. And as he struggled and lifted and half-dragged, half-carried his brother along, they finally reached the front porch. By this time, Adam, the injured one, was no longer crying, but Aaron, the rescuer, was. When asked, “Why are you crying, Aaron?” he said simply, “Because Adam hurts.” And so he had brought him home to help, home to someone who knew what to do, to someone who could cleanse the wounds, bind them up, and make them better—home to love.

“I remember coming home from school one day, and I had picked up a little language of the wrong kind. I came into the house and used the Lord’s name in vain. My mother was shocked by it, and she washed my mouth out with soap. She then taught me about the Lord’s name and quoted to me the commandment against taking it in vain. In my imagination I can still taste the soap, but more importantly, I can still remember the lesson. I think that since then I have never used the Lord’s name in vain, and I hope that I never shall.”

In a hard-fought contest in the state football playoffs, the game was won when Steve, the quarterback, threw a pass to Mike. There was some question whether Mike caught or trapped the ball. The referee ruled that he caught it.
Since it was such a vital play, controversy raged. When Mike went to church the next Sunday several people asked him if he really caught the pass. Mike held his tongue until he saw his bishop. “Bishop, can I speak to you in private?” Mike asked. In the privacy of the bishop’s office, Mike said, “Bishop, I caught the pass. I wanted you to know!”

In 1965, Peter was living in his hometown of Boise, Idaho, and like many of his friends was preparing for a mission. The day of the accident changed all that. He was forced into an experience that would test him to the limit. And it was his triumph over adversity that changed his life.
As I arrived at the hospital, the young doctor who was attending me did what he could. But I had expanded so much, almost twice as big, like a blister, that it was very difficult to tell if I was lying on my back or my stomach. And with all that, he tried to find some life signs and couldn’t. He declared me legally dead. He covered me with a sheet and took me back down to the entrance to the emergency care center. And there I was left on a cot. A nurse walked by. She was beside the cot when my arm flinched under the sheet. She became quite alarmed. They marshaled all their resources and took me back up to intensive care.
Peter was given no chance to live. Teams of nurses and doctors had to spell each other off as he hovered between life and death. Gradually Peter approached the threshold of consciousness.
I could hear them talking. It was like a fantasy, a never-never land, because of all the pain. It was like a cloud around my mind. I heard the doctor say to my mother, “There is no chance that Peter will live.” When I heard him say this, I became so angry I wanted to get up and hit the doctor. I remember trying to get off the bed, but I was tied down. I’ll never forget that feeling when the doctor said, “I don’t know how he has made it this long. There’s no chance that he’ll live.”
I remember thinking as I was slipping into a coma that I felt like I was dying. That happened many, many times, only I couldn’t remember the other times. I could only remember the time I was going through. As I was slipping away, I was so mad at the doctor that I said, “I’ll prove to you I’m not going to die. I’ll hang on.
The pain was so severe that I made a commitment to myself that before I gave up I would count to ten. I would see if I could make it to ten before I died. I’d get to five or six and feel myself slipping, and I’d say, “I’ve got to get to ten.”