Gospel Story Finder

One day there was a conference in our city. My parents were excited and grateful when they learned we would have Elder Marvin J. Ashton (1915–94) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles among us.
On the day of the conference, the chapel was overflowing. My mother could not get close to Elder Ashton. When my six-year-old brother saw my mother’s despair, he managed to get through the human barrier and reach him. He asked Elder Ashton to bless his brother who was very sick and insisted that he come to where we were. But Elder Ashton couldn’t come at that moment. We prayed for an opportunity to meet him at the end of the conference.
To our surprise, at the beginning of his talk Elder Ashton said, “When I got here, a little boy asked me to bless his brother who is gravely ill, and I would like to say to all within the sound of my voice that your brother will get well and fulfill his mission here on earth.”
For my parents, this was the balm they had prayed for, a relief from their days of pain and sadness. We began a new treatment, and with confidence in the power of Elder Ashton’s promise, I found my life changed completely.

A man I knew--one of the great men I have known--was in a bunch of roustabout boys. They were always where they should not be and never where they should be. Finally, a wise leader that was resourceful got them into a Sunday School class. There was this old man--just an ordinary, homely, old man. More than that, he was a convert from Europe, and he did not speak English very well. They giggled, "Our teacher? Him?" These boys, I suppose, had the reputation of running any teacher out.

Then my friend said that something happened. The teacher started to speak, and then it happened! They all began to listen. This friend said, "You could warm your hands by the fire of his faith." That meant that in that older, worn-out body that did not seem to be able to erase an accent, there was a powerful spirit.

A few weeks ago on a day when this area was experiencing one of its worst snowstorms, and that is saying quite a bit because we had plenty of severe weather this past winter, a handsome young serviceman and his beautiful bride-to-be encountered extreme difficulty in getting to the Salt Lake Temple for their marriage appointment. She was in one location in the Salt Lake Valley and he was to come from another nearby town. Heavy snows and winds had closed the highways during the night and early morning hours. After many hours of anxious waiting, some of us were able to help them get to the temple and complete their marriage plans before the day was over.
How grateful they, their families, and friends were for the assistance and concern in their keeping this most important appointment. My friend—we will call him Bill—expressed his deep gratitude with, “Thank you very much for all you did to make our wedding possible. I don’t understand why you went to all this trouble to help me. Really, I’m nobody.”
I am sure Bill meant his comment to be a most sincere compliment, but I responded to it firmly, but I hope kindly, with, “Bill, I have never helped a ‘nobody’ in my life. In the kingdom of our Heavenly Father no man is a ‘nobody.’”

Lakhran Surjdeen, known as Michael, moved to Barbados at age 21, just before the COVID-19 pandemic. Spending an extended period indoors during the pandemic prompted him to embark on a cruise. Each day when he awoke, the thought came to him, “When you go back to Barbados, get baptized.”
Upon his return, Michael turned to Facebook to search for a church where he could be baptized. The church he decided to call was The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Soon, missionaries reached out to him to arrange an appointment, but before he met with them, he decided to walk to the church to see what it was like. While standing outside the property’s fence and looking at the building, Michael felt the quiet peace that he had been searching for.
The missionaries asked Michael to meet them at the church for his first lesson. He was so eager to be baptized that he asked if he could have that done right away. However, the missionaries helped him understand that he needed to have a few more lessons to strengthen his faith in and commitment to Jesus Christ before he could be baptized. Finally, the day came that he had been waiting for: Michael was going to be baptized. Even though this was his wish, he was very nervous; he could feel his heart beating quickly. He walked to the font, all dressed in white, and as soon as his toe touched the water, Michael felt completely calm; he felt as light as a white feather.
When Michael returned home, he felt happy inside. He felt like he was glowing, but as soon as he walked into his home, his tears began flowing. Michael knew that his Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were happy for the big decision he had made on his own.
These days, Michael looks forward to church each week to renew the covenant with Jesus Christ he made at baptism. He knows that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has the restored and living gospel. He still finds peace when he attends church and loves to share the message of the gospel so that others can feel the love that he feels.

We expect a lot from our Aaronic Priesthood brethren, and, properly trained, they seldom disappoint us. I remember when Dr. Harold Hulme served as bishopric adviser to a deacons quorum. They were invited to tour a hospital. As he introduced his quorum to the nurses, one of them said, “How unusual. The deacons in our church are older men.” Dr. Hulme replied, “Well, our deacons are outstanding young men. They can handle it when they are twelve years old!”

Dear Amanda,
We had so many interesting visitors at church last Sunday that I thought you would like to hear about them. Grandpa and I went to church in a little town called Itakyrú (ee-tahk-ee-roo). We are building a nice new meetinghouse there, but for now the members come to the home of the Ugarte (oo-gar-teh) family for church. There are two rooms in the house: a bedroom, where the whole family sleeps, and a kitchen, where Sister Ugarte cooks over an open fire. Between the two rooms is a covered area for the animals. There is a big box of corn there, and the dogs and pigs and chickens and ducks go in and out whenever they wish. The Ugarte family also has a little brown burro, a calf, and a pretty gray cat.
On Sunday, however, all the animals have to go out into the yard, and Brother Ugarte sets up benches for our meetings in the area between the two rooms. It is a very cool and pretty place to have a meeting.
Sacrament meeting last Sunday started out as usual. Then, after the announcements and opening song, we heard a strange munching noise. It was the little black calf. He had come in to listen and to eat some of his corn!
A little later, during the first talk, Grandpa leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Grandma, there is a little pig between my feet!”
“I know,” I whispered back, “and there is a little spotted dog under me.”
Just at that moment the little dog under me playfully nipped the little pig under Grandpa.
“Ooee! Ooee! Ooee!” squealed the pig, and it ran into the yard.
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” barked the dog, following the pig into the yard.
“Amen,” said the speaker as he finished his talk.
Everyone stood up to sing a rest song. The little brown burro, which had been very reverent in the yard the whole time, decided he would like to sing. Have you ever heard a burro sing? They don’t stay with the music very well, and they always forget the words!
The second half of the meeting was much quieter. The pretty gray cat fell asleep outside near the burro, and the only new visitors to church were some ducks and a mother hen that came to eat the corn that the calf had spilled on the floor.
Soon the new meetinghouse in Itakyru will be finished. Then the animals won’t be able to come to church anymore, which is really too bad, because they seemed to enjoy being there with us.
Grandpa and I are very glad that we can be missionaries in Paraguay. Maybe someday you can be a missionary too. Don’t forget to be a good girl for your mommy and daddy.
Love,
Grandma

I emphasize the word shared. My introduction to the board of trustees came as I left the faculty at Stanford to be the president of Ricks College. I attended my first board meeting soon thereafter. My work at Stanford and elsewhere had exposed me to the ways boards of directors and groups of people in business made decisions. But nothing I had seen prepared me for what I saw in that meeting.

President Harold B. Lee, also one of the authors of our foundation documents, was serving as chair. I have now forgotten the issue, but the discussion was lively. I had never seen such frankness without rancor before, but neither had I seen people listen to each other as carefully. In a few minutes, what had seemed to me widely divergent views began to move—I thought so rapidly as to be miraculous—toward a consensus. Just as I began to think I had seen an example of joint revelation beyond what I thought possible among strong leaders, I was surprised by a statement from the chair, President Lee. He said something like this: “I sense that there is someone here still not settled on this matter. I suggest that we hold it for further thought. We can discuss it again in a later meeting.” President Lee had seen or felt, I don’t know which, that there was not yet complete unity. And so an important matter was held off.

That story is not about one day but represents a pattern. Not only does the board of trustees give consistent direction, based on a deep understanding of universities as they have been and of this one as it is, but it gives direction out of unity far beyond a product of counting votes and far above a process of coalition bargaining.

Laney was ready for the beach! She had her sandals on. She had her bucket to make sandcastles.
Laney’s whole family was going. But Aunt Amy was still on the couch. She wasn’t feeling well.
“I’ll stay home with you!” Laney said.
Aunt Amy smiled. “Thank you, Laney. But I want you to have fun.”
At the beach, Laney built a sandcastle and jumped in the waves. But she kept thinking about Aunt Amy. What could she do to help her feel better?
Laney had an idea. She could surprise Aunt Amy with the prettiest rock on the beach!
Laney looked and looked. Then she saw a sparkle. She picked up the rock. It had lines of blue and green and gold in it. It was perfect!
At home Laney ran inside. “Aunt Amy, look what I found for you!”
“Wow!” Aunt Amy said. She gave Laney a big hug. “What a beautiful present! Thank you.”
Laney was glad she could make Aunt Amy smile.

His mother left him alone, and he unpacked his things. His high school letterman’s jacket was pushed to the back of his closet, replaced by his navy and brown suits. He was putting a sweater in the bottom drawer when he saw the Shell family, tucked in the corner where he’d put them four years ago.

Tessie had made them out of seashells collected at the beach, Mr. and Mrs. Shell and their four children. Their faces were painted carefully and had tiny pebbles glued on as eyes and yarn for hair. She had given them to David on his 17th birthday.

“This is a good family,” Tessie had said. “Mr. Shell works hard, and he doesn’t live far away like my dad. Mrs. Shell stays home and takes care of the house, and the four kids go to school all day.”

“What are their names?” David had touched each one carefully, feeling the ridges with his fingertips.

“I don’t know their names. I didn’t get that far.”

“This one is Butch.” He’d picked up the boy with the biggest grin. “He looks like a ballplayer, and ballplayers are always named Butch.”

She’d nodded in agreement, then lifted the oldest girl.

“I think this is Annabelle. That’s my aunt’s name. She’s a stewardess and flies all over.”

“Annabelle Shell.” He’d grinned. “It has a snappy ring to it.”

“And this is Rachel, the baby of the family.” It had short, navy blue hair and large pebble eyes. “This boy … umm … his name is Tony, like the boy at school who doesn’t know English.”

They looked old now, Annabelle’s hair falling off and Mr. Shell without one foot.

A personal act of kindness or reconciliation also has an impact for peace. Lincoln’s biographer described such an act. A Union officer applied to his commander-in-chief for permission to leave his regiment to attend to the burial of his wife. Lincoln gruffly refused. Another battle was imminent, and every officer was needed. The next morning President Lincoln reconsidered and granted the request. He went to the room of the grieving man, took his hand, and said:
“My dear Colonel, I was a brute last night. I have no excuse to offer. I was weary to the last extent; but I had no right to treat a man with rudeness who had offered his life for his country, much more a man who came to me in great affliction. I have had a regretful night, and come now to beg your forgiveness” (Carl Sandburg, Abraham Lincoln, The War Years, 4 vols. [New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1939], 1:514).

During this time I met Kelly, who would become my wife. When I met her, my depression lifted and I was able to see myself as a child of God. Kelly was not a member of the Church when we started dating. We were eventually married, and after some time I baptized her. It was a special and sacred moment for me.
After our first child, Rafael, was born, we brought him to church to receive a blessing. My parents attended the blessing. It was the first time they ever went to church. From then on they started to hear the missionary lessons in their home. I eventually had the privilege to baptize my brothers and my parents.
It is funny because my father was very systematic about it. He said, “My son, when are you going to baptize me?” When he was baptized, I raised him out of the water and he hugged me. It was such an extraordinary moment in my life!

Many years ago, in 1899, there was a terrible drought in southern Utah. For more than two years there was no rain. The streams, and even the wells, around the town of St. George had dried up. There was no water for the crops, so they withered up and died. Thousands of cattle died of thirst. Many people began moving away because of the lack of food and water.
Nell was a little girl living in St. George at that time. Her father told her that things were so bad that they would also have to move away soon.
In June, Nell and her mother went to a Church conference in St. George. The prophet, President Lorenzo Snow, was going to speak. Nell’s father stayed home to pack the family’s things for their move. Nell listened carefully to what the prophet said. After the conference, she could hardly wait to tell her father about it. As soon as she arrived home, she ran to find him. She told him that President Snow had promised that if the people would pay their tithing and plant their crops, it would rain and they would have food for the coming year.
At first, Nell’s father was reluctant. He explained that their family couldn’t survive another year if the crops didn’t grow. Nell reminded him that her grandfather had told her about how the people in his day were blessed by doing exactly what President Young asked them to do. Nell had wished that she could have lived then and followed President Young. Grandfather had smiled at her and had reminded her that President Snow was the prophet now and he was the one Nell needed to follow. Her grandfather said that if she followed the living prophet, she would be blessed. She believed her grandfather, and she believed that President Snow’s promises would all be fulfilled. She even offered to give her father the money she had saved to help pay their family’s tithing.
The next morning, Nell saw her father out plowing, getting ready to plant their fields. Her family stayed in St. George and did exactly what the prophet asked them to do. During the hot, dry weeks that followed, the people of St. George paid their tithing, planted their fields, prayed, and watched the cloudless sky for rain. Neither Nell nor her father was surprised when two months after the conference, it began to rain. The crops grew in abundance that year!

It was my father who showed me the way out of my loneliness. He was a Christian with a strong belief in God. One day he was paralyzed by an illness, and doctors told him he would never walk again. But he forced himself to start walking one week later by using a wall for support. “You see,” he told me, “I believe in God, and I know that with His help I can overcome my problems.” His words impressed me, but it would be some time before I realized how strongly rooted in my heart they had become.

One-hundred-and-fifty youth from the New Orleans and Baton Rouge stakes in Louisiana volunteered for three days at a youth program for a national spina bifida conference in New Orleans. While their parents were in classes, the children and teens with spina bifida were entertained by the Louisiana youth. They played games, read, did puppet shows, danced, and just chatted. Spending one-on-one time with the children and teenagers was challenging for the LDS youth at first, but by the end of their youth conference the youth realized that although they were setting a good example by serving, those they served were the real shining examples.

Life is not always easy for the three boys. Sometimes bad things do happen, and the boys have learned to depend on Heavenly Father to help them.
One morning a few years ago, Sister Lopez was taking her children and four of their cousins to school. On the way, they were in a very serious accident. The children weren’t hurt, but Sister Lopez broke her neck.
The doctors in Guatemala City did what they could for her, but eight months later she became very ill. The doctors said that she needed neck surgery and that afterward she would be in a wheelchair the rest of her life. The family prayed, and Sister Lopez decided to call some of the young men in the United States who had lived in their home as missionaries. One of them was studying to become an orthopedic surgeon! He said, “Come to Provo, and let us do the surgery here.” One of his teachers agreed to perform the surgery, and a family offered to care for Sister Lopez until she was well enough to return to Guatemala.
On the day of the surgery, it was hard for the rest of the family to not know how the surgery was going. They all prayed a lot on that day. Benjamin in particular prayed that his mother would feel good again and would still be able to walk. When they called her that night, she said that the operation had gone well and that she still had the use of her legs!
“I was recovering in Utah for three months,” Sister Lopez said. “Everyone helped me a lot, but it was hard to be so far away from my family.”
Isaac remembers well the one time the family got to see her before she came home. “We drove for five days to get to Provo to see Mommy. It was a very long drive, but it was worth it!” Sister Lopez recovered and returned home. The family is grateful to Heavenly Father for taking care of her and making it so she could walk.

It was summertime, right in the middle of haying season. A lot of hay was down, and my neighbor Frank Rees waited eagerly for the dew to come so he could get started. It was a Saturday night when the conditions were finally right, so Frank drove to his field and started baling his hay.
As he baled he noticed the headlights of his friend and neighbor across several fields. He too was taking advantage of the favorable conditions and was baling his hay. Several years before, Frank had made the decision not to work on the Sabbath, and he knew he would stop on this night just before midnight to honor that commitment. He wondered what his neighbor would do. It would be such a temptation to continue baling under these favorable conditions with so much hay down and ready.
As the hours passed he continued to notice his neighbor’s headlights and knew he was still baling. A few minutes before midnight Frank shut off the baler and drove the tractor to his truck. In the quiet darkness he noticed that his neighbor had also chosen to honor the Sabbath and had quit baling.
After telling this story in sacrament meeting, Frank looked over his shoulder to his neighbor, now the bishop of their ward.
“Do you remember that?” he asked.
Bishop Munns nodded and said, “I didn’t have a watch. I was watching you.”

“Let’s go to a movie!”
“No, let’s go to the park.”
Four-year-old Noah was sitting on the floor pretending that his two cars were talking to each other when Mom peeked into his bedroom. “Noah, when Dad gets home, he and I are going to the temple.”
Noah smiled up at her. “OK. Maybe my cars will go to the temple too.”
“Good idea!” Mom said. “If you need anything while we’re gone, ask one of your big brothers. OK?”
“All right, Mom.” Mom smiled and left. Noah sat thinking for a moment. He knew that Mom and Dad had been married in the temple so their family could be together forever. But there was something he didn’t understand.
He got up and went to find Mom. He found her lying on her bed, reading a book. “Mom, you and Dad already got married in the temple. So why do you keep going back?”
Mom patted the bed, and Noah climbed up beside her. “In the temple we make special promises to Heavenly Father,” Mom said. “He promises us wonderful blessings He can only give us in the temple. But a lot of people lived and died without a chance to go to the temple. Some of them never even knew about Jesus Christ. We go to the temple to do temple work for those people so they can have the same blessings our family has.”
“You mean so they can be a family forever too?”
“Right,” Mom said.
Noah yawned. “You look tired, Noah. Do you want to rest here for a while?” Mom asked. Noah snuggled close to her and closed his eyes. He thought of a beautiful temple and imagined himself as a grown-up going inside.
When Noah woke up, Mom was gone. He stretched and smiled. “Mom and Dad must have already gone to the temple,” he thought. He slid off the bed and ran to find his brothers.
They were in the living room watching a movie. “Hi, guys!” Noah called, running in to join them.
While Mom and Dad were gone, Noah had a safe, warm feeling inside. His brothers were even extra nice to him.
When Dad and Mom walked in the front door, Noah ran to meet them. Mom picked him up and hugged him. Dad put his big arms around both of them and gave them a giant squeeze.
Mom smiled at Noah. “Remember how Dad and I got married in the temple, Noah? Well, tonight we got married for some people who couldn’t get married in the temple when they were alive. Now those moms and dads can be with their families forever if they choose the right. While I was at the temple, I felt very happy that if I do what Heavenly Father and Jesus ask me to, I can be your mom forever!”
Noah smiled. Going to the temple didn’t just help people who were dead. It made his own family happy too!

Anyone passing the cottage of Emrys Davis on that autumn evening would have stopped to smell the aroma that was coming from the chimney. It was different from the usual smell of coal smoke. If they could have looked inside they would have seen an incident almost beyond belief.
But first, let us get acquainted with Mr. Emrys Davis. He was born and still lived in a little Welsh village that has a name that only Welshmen can pronounce. His life was quite simple. He worked as a clerk at a nearby colliery (coal mine), and several evenings a week he would visit the local pub and indulge in a pint of beer and watch his fellow villagers play billiards or throw darts.
There were other evenings when he stayed home and read his Bible, for deep inside Emrys Davis was a religious man. He had been approached on one occasion by the minister of a local church and invited to become a member. He had refused and had embarrassed the minister by saying that his sermons were pure “posh” and did not agree with the scriptures. That was several years ago and there had been no further invitations.
A tragedy had come into his life when his beloved wife of just two years had died at childbirth. Somehow, he could not bring himself to believe that he and Gwyneth whom he loved so well were separated forever.
Then one evening, as he was sitting by his fireside reading his Bible, a knock came at his door. Upon answering he faced two young men. Before he could even ask what they wanted, one of them said, “We are missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We would like to tell you of our church and doctrines.”
Emrys Davis was about to close the door in their faces, thinking to himself that their teachings would probably be more “posh,” when he took a second look at these young men. There was something different about them that he could not quite understand. He saw in their faces truthfulness, sincerity and courage.
Going against his stubborn Welsh background, he heard himself say, “Come on in.” As the flames from the fire reflected on their faces, these two young men unfolded for him a story that made his Bible come to life. What he thought would be just more “posh” was something that touched the chords of his whole being. At midnight the young men left with a sincere invitation from Emrys to return.
A few evenings later they returned and continued the gospel discussions. Then came that magical evening when the prayer of his heart was answered. The missionaries explained to him the law of eternal marriage, that he and his departed wife could be reunited through accepting and following the teachings of the gospel and by being sealed in the temple of the Lord.
His very soul seemed to come alive, and he knew he had found the truth. However, there was one encumbrance before he could be baptized: he loved his tobacco. The beer at the pub would be no problem, but through the years he had collected a variety of pipes for smoking. There were briars, meerschaums, and pipes from many different lands. They were part of his life.
He had requested baptism, but now he wondered if he had the courage to overcome this part of his life. Over his mantle were those pipes in a glass case. They looked down on him like an idol seeking worship.
That night he kneeled by his bedside and prayed for an answer. When the morning light broke over the Welsh hills, his answer came. The Lord had said through his prophet that tobacco was not good for man and that the Spirit of God would not dwell in an unclean tabernacle.
The next Sunday after sacrament meeting, Emrys Davis invited the members of his branch to his cottage. He had made Welsh cakes and lemonade, and after the refreshments were served, he asked for the attention of his guests.
“For some time,” he said, “I have faced a difficult problem, but tonight as we sang the closing hymn, the solution came to me. We sang, ‘Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven.’” He then explained the problem of the pipes.
When he was through, he reached above the mantle and took down the case of pipes. One by one he dropped them into the fire and watched them being devoured by the flames.
On each side of him stood the missionaries and in back were the branch members. Outside the air was scented with briar and meerschaum, but inside was the Spirit of God.

It was an unforgettable family home evening with our two little girls, Angélique, age 6, and Béthanie, age 4. My husband and I had both collapsed into our chairs, tired and not knowing where to begin. So our daughters took initiative and turned the family home evening assignment wheel, giving us each a task. My husband’s job was to conduct, Béthanie had music, I had activities, and Angélique was to give the lesson.
Béthanie chose “I Love to See the Temple” (Children’s Songbook, 95), and we sang it together. Papa gave the opening prayer. Then Angélique took the most recent issue of the Liahona and chose an article in the children’s section. She is learning how to read in school, so she read the article to us. The feeling in our home was one of calm. The Spirit testified that what she was reading was true.
We played some games together, and I gave the closing prayer. While I was praying, I couldn’t keep from thanking our Heavenly Father for His Spirit and love and also for having blessed our home with these little spirits. My husband and I know that our responsibility is to care for them and to teach them the gospel. Holding family home evening is part of that sacred responsibility.
Sylvie Poussin, Réunion

This would be a fine place to end Kim and Neil’s story, but there’s more. The Kereszti’s son, Zsolt, was the only Latter-day Saint single adult in Hungary, so Dr. Davis invited him to come to Salt Lake City and live with his family for a while. Since Zsolt had medical training, he could help Dr. Davis in his research.
So now the Davis’s missionary efforts resulted in a new big brother for the family. What’s it like to suddenly have a friend from Hungary move in?
“I remember the first day he came,” says Kim. “We couldn’t even pronounce his name. But since then, we’ve become really close. I go to early-morning seminary, and he takes me. He’s come to our school and spoken, he’s cooked Hungarian dinners for us, he’s taught us a little of the Hungarian language, and we’ve done a lot of other special things together.”
“I was kind of shy at first,” says Neil, who was the oldest son in the house when Zsolt arrived. “We’d go out and play racquetball and Ping-Pong, and we all got used to each other. Considering he came from a family where he was the only child, he’s very patient with us.”
As for Zsolt, he was delighted to be accepted straight into the heart of a strong Latter-day Saint family. He’s fascinated by their unity, by family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening, and he’s amazed at their support of each other. The Davises are a musical family and play their various instruments together often. They’re also an athletic family and always attend each other’s games and sports activities.
“I’ve learned that I tremendously enjoy a big family,” Zsolt says. “It’s very educational for me to watch and learn how they handle everything. They set goals and motivate each other. I would like to have a family like this someday.”