Gospel Story Finder

While watching a Mormon Message for Youth, I witnessed another bedroom that had become a holy place. The video shows Ingrid Delgado, a young woman from El Salvador, sharing her feelings about the temple. She says, “It is good to know we have a place where we can get away from the things of the world and receive sacred ordinances and help those who couldn’t receive them in this life.” As she speaks, the video shows Ingrid reading her scriptures, surrounded by Mormonads, quotations, a Personal Progress book, pictures of her family and the temple, and yes, her favorite stuffed animals.5 Perhaps without even realizing it, she has created her holy place away from the things of the world. I wonder how many times Ingrid has read her scriptures, felt the Spirit, and received answers to her prayers in her holy place.

Recently I went sailing with my sailing club. My sister, Bella, was on the water with a boy, Liam. Alone, I followed in another dinghy. I soon noticed that the others were getting further and further away. The wind had grown strong, and the waves were getting bigger.
Then a gust of wind capsized my boat, and Bella and Liam’s, at the same time. The tide was going out, the wind had picked up, and now there were three sailors in the water with only one safety boat.
Liam panicked. He tangled himself in the ropes, and when freed he kept floating away from the boat. Bella had to keep rescuing him by swimming to him and dragging him back to the boat to hold on to a rope. It took a long time for them to get Liam onto the safety boat.
In the meantime, I had righted my boat, but because the waves and the wind were very strong, I could not get back in. With the tide and the wind against me, and the safety boat and the shore getting further and further away, I was all alone in the freezing cold sea. I was upset and scared.
As soon as I knew I was in a dangerous situation, and that no one was able to help me, I prayed. I said to Heavenly Father, “I feel cold and scared, and I’m all alone, and the safety boat is saving Liam and Bella so it can’t get to me. Please send someone else to help me.”
When I finished my prayer, a fishing boat pulled up next to me. It stayed with me and my boat and made sure I was safe until the safety boat was able to collect me and my boat a little while later.
Although Heavenly Father planned for us to have the right people around us to help us progress towards exaltation, sometimes it doesn’t go to plan. Sometimes the people we should be able to rely on are not there. Sometimes they are busy helping others, sometimes they don’t know we need rescuing.
However, God always knows, and just like the safety boat was not there for me, a stranger was sent to my aid instead. Sometimes in life, we also need to make sure we can reach out and help others to safety.

Giovanni closed the front door softly so that he wouldn’t wake his family. Though early in the morning, it was already warm in Sicily, the large island at the “toe” of the Italy “boot.” The air felt heavy and moist like a damp blanket. The street was quiet except for the sound of the boy’s footsteps as thoughts of last night’s family home evening swirled in his head.
Mama had read from her new Book of Mormon that was already showing signs of wear, “‘Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in my house; and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it.’”* She’d stopped reading and stared blankly at the page.
Giovanni had looked down at his hands and said quietly, “Ever since we were baptized and started paying tithing, it seems like we’ve just gotten more problems.” His mother turned toward him, a look of surprise in her eyes, but he could not keep the words inside any longer. “Paying tithing didn’t keep Papa from losing his job, and it hasn’t given us the money we need. What good is paying tithing?”
The room was silent for a long time. Finally Papa spoke. “Giovanni, what if every time you obeyed a commandment, someone gave you a reward?”
“It would be easy to choose the right.”
“Too easy,” Papa added.
“But Heavenly Father wants us to choose the right so we can live with Him again.”
“Yes, He does,” Papa said. “But we must want to live with Him again, too—enough to choose the right even if we aren’t rewarded right away. And enough to avoid evil, even if it seems profitable. Heavenly Father won’t solve all our problems for us. But He will help us as we work to solve them.”
A dog barked from behind a wood fence, startling Giovanni as he walked, interrupting his thoughts. “I wish this problem would have been solved before I had to spend my summer looking for work,” he muttered to himself.
Jobs were scarce, especially for a boy. Everyone he asked had answered the same: “No.” Only one person would hire him—Tomaso. He had a reputation for never smiling—and for never keeping a worker more than one day.
Giovanni heard the bell tower’s deep bong. It was six o’clock, and Tomaso had been very clear that he was to arrive by six o’clock. Giovanni ran the last block to the Mercato Aperto (open air market). He found Tomaso already setting up under the dusty canvas canopy. He was a short, wiry man, though what he lacked in height, he made up for in his hands. Giovanni had never seen bigger hands. Tomaso easily hefted two full crates onto the rickety table.
“Finish these,” he said, motioning with his head.
Giovanni unloaded the crate of sanguinelle (blood oranges). They looked like any other orange on the outside, but on the inside, the fruit was a beautiful ruby red. Giovanni took a deep breath. The sweet, tangy odor mingled with the aroma of pollo allo spiedo (roast chickens) across the street and the pungent smell of olives floating in vinegar in the booth next door. Already people were milling about and vendors were shouting their wares in noisy competition for customers.
“Arancie, mille lire (oranges, a thousand lira),” Giovanni joined in.
“Due chili” (two kilos), answered a woman.
Giovanni placed a bag on the scale and began to fill it. Suddenly his eye caught the glint of something shiny among the oranges. He picked it up. It was a 500-lire coin, with silver edges around a brass center. He glanced around quickly. The woman was searching her purse for money. Tomaso was busy helping another customer. Giovanni slipped the coin into his pocket. He finished filling the bag and handed it to the woman.
The customers came one after another all morning long. Giovanni forgot about the coin until another gleam caught his eye. This time it was two 500-lire coins! That made 1,500 lire, half of what Tomaso had promised to pay him for a day’s work! Giovanni remembered what his father had said at family night, “Heavenly Father will help us as we work to solve our problems.” This must beHeavenly Father’s way of blessing us for paying tithing, he thought. But as he slipped the coins into his pocket, he felt that something was not right.
“That’s all for today,” Tomaso said shortly. “Let’s clean up.”
Giovanni tried to ignore the knot in his stomach as he boxed the remaining oranges and helped collapse the tables. He wished Tomaso would pay him so that he could get away.
“Three thousand lire,” Tomaso said gruffly, holding out three bills in his hand.
Giovanni reached for the money, then stopped. His father’s words echoed in his mind, “… avoid evil, even if it seems profitable.”
He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the three coins. “I found these today among the oranges. I don’t know who they belong to, but they do not belong to me.”
Tomaso stared at the coins for a moment. Then a smile began to turn up the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, Giovanni,” he said, taking the coins from the boy’s small hand with his large one. “I thought I had lost them. They are part of my brother’s coin collection. They are not worth much beyond their face value, but they give my brother much pleasure. He is ill and has few pleasures, so I was distressed at losing them.”
Tomaso turned and put some oranges into a sack. He handed it to Giovanni with the lire bills. “You are not only a hard worker but honest. All the other boys I hired stole oranges from me. You not only returned my brother’s coins, but you also did not steal any fruit. I cannot afford to pay you more money, but I can give you this.”
Now it was Giovanni’s turn to smile. The terrible knot in his stomach had disappeared. He took the three bills and the sack Tomaso held out, and turned to go.
“Giovanni,” Tomaso said, “come again tomorrow—six o’clock sharp.”

My great-great grandfather’s name is Pinemua Soliai of Nu‘uuli, American Samoa. His father, High Chief Muliufi Soliai, died when he was six years old, and so he was raised by his mother and maternal grandparents in Pago Pago, where they joined the Church in 1893 and did many things to build the Church there. As an adult, he was given the chiefly title Soliai and moved back to his father’s home village of Nu‘uuli in 1926. At the time, a village rule allowed only the London Missionary Society church to operate, which caused some conflict when Papa Soliai invited the missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints into his home.

When the villagers found out, they wanted to kill the missionaries. Papa Soliai protected them with his own body, telling the villagers that if they wanted the missionaries, they would have to kill him first. After this intervention and many discussions within the village matai council, the Church was established in Nu‘uuli. It started as a small Sunday school in Papa Soliai’s home consisting mostly of his own family members, and later grew into a branch and then a ward whose first bishop was his grandson, William “Bill” Cravens, who also happens to be my grandfather. Today, Nu‘uuli has three wards.

Derek, 11, recalled: “Once when our Primary was preparing for the Children’s Sacrament Meeting Presentation, the Primary president talked to us for a few minutes. She told us that we were children of god. She explained how Primary teaches us that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us and how we can learn to love them. She talked about how Primary helps us to know and live the gospel. As she was speaking, a sensation came over me—a really warm, good feeling—and I knew that what she was saying is true.”

Long years ago, when I served as a bishop, I learned that Mary Watson, a member of my ward, was a patient in the county hospital. When I went to visit her, I discovered her in a large room with so many beds that it was difficult to single her out. As I identified her bed and approached her, I said, “Hello, Mary.”
She replied, “Hello, Bishop.”
I noticed that a patient in the bed next to Mary Watson covered her face with the bedsheet.
I gave Mary a blessing, shook her hand, and said good-bye, but I could not leave her side. It was as though an unseen hand were resting on my shoulder, and I felt within my soul that I was hearing these words: “Go over to the next bed, where the little lady covered her face when you came in.” I did so. I have learned in my life never to postpone responding to a prompting.
I gently tapped the other patient on her shoulder and carefully pulled back the sheet that had covered her face. Lo and behold, she, too, was a member of my ward. I had not known that she was a patient there. Her name was Kathleen McKee. When her eyes met mine, she exclaimed through her tears, “Oh, Bishop, when you entered that door, I felt you had come to see me and bless me in response to my prayers. I was rejoicing inside to think that you knew I was here. When you stopped at the other bed, my heart sank, and I knew that you had not come to see me.”
I said to Kathleen McKee: “It does not matter that I didn’t know that you were here. It is important, however, that our Heavenly Father knew and that you had prayed for a priesthood blessing. It was He who prompted me to come to you now.”
A blessing was given, a prayer was answered. I bestowed a kiss on her forehead and left the hospital with gratitude in my heart for the promptings of the Spirit. It was the last time I saw Kathleen McKee alive.

Some years ago while our family was eating dinner with another couple from our ward, we received a phone call from the emergency department of our local hospital. An official asked my husband, who was serving as stake president at the time, if someone from our Church could come see a 17-year-old youth who had suffered a serious head injury.
Upon arriving, my husband learned that the young man had fallen from a balcony onto a cement sidewalk 30 feet (9 m) below. He was unconscious and not expected to live.
My husband and the brother who ate dinner with us gave the young man a blessing. His family, who lived a thousand miles (1,610 km) away, was contacted and apprised of his condition.
Miraculously, after a few days of intensive care, the young man regained consciousness and began to heal. For four weeks his parents visited him daily in the hospital. Then they flew him home to Arizona, USA, so he could complete his recovery.
How marvelous it was to witness the healing power of the priesthood work in a way to give this young man a second chance at a healthy future. And how grateful I was for a husband and other ward members who are prepared to perform priesthood service and act with divine authority.
I felt deeply for the young man’s parents, who were so far from their son during his crisis. I was glad, however, to know that they felt somewhat reassured when they learned that their son had received a priesthood blessing and that Church members were glad to help.

Another LDS woman named Sarah Sellers also had a remarkable experience that day. She heretofore, has had no big name in the running world, but on that day of the worst possible conditions she placed 2nd in the race. Her brother wrote this about her:
“When you ask God for help with doing something great, He answers. His answer, however, doesn’t usually involve instant supernatural empowerment to swift victory. More often it consists of setting you on a long, hard course of training, building, and learning. He quietly walks beside you, sustaining and encouraging each step, but letting you push through storms and doubts and heartbreaking setbacks. Why? Because He knows it is the only way to prepare you to accomplish the triumph you have asked of Him.
“Since middle school I have watched my sister strive and strain, stretch and stumble, struggle and stay the course in pursuit of running greatness. I have seen her fiercely stubborn commitment. More than once she dragged our dad out into a rainy night in the middle of a family hiking vacation just to get in her daily run. She relished running on cold, snowy Utah days, because while she hated being cold she knew plenty of other runners would stay home. But I have also seen her moments of doubt. She burned with frustration when injuries knocked one season after another off course. She gave her absolute all in pinnacle races and came just cruelly short of her cherished goals and dreams.
“Why? We all asked, and I know she did too. Today we got one answer, because I believe nothing else could have prepared her for this day. Nothing else could have built up the strength, patience, endurance, and granite-solid mental toughness to pound through 26.2 miles of freezing wind and rain and then stand all amazed at an unfathomable 2nd place finish. God didn’t give her golden wings to fly upon today, instead He sent a nightmare storm that He had built her up to break through.” (by Marcus Neil Callister)
She felt God’s love for her even in the storm. She was able to capitalize on the physical stamina and spiritual faith she had gained through years of challenges.

Another friend served an outstanding mission, followed by rigorous academic training. He hoped to have a family. His trial of faith: feelings of same-sex attraction. He wrote me recently: “I am promised in my patriarchal blessing that I will have my own family someday. Whether that will occur in this life or the next, I do not know. But what I do know is that I don’t want to do anything that will jeopardize the blessings God has promised both me and my future posterity. … Living [the law of chastity] is a challenge, but did we not come to earth to confront challenges and to show God our love and respect for Him by keeping His commandments? I am blessed with good health, the gospel, a loving family, and loyal friends. I am grateful for my many blessings.”

When you say the name Lilia Carasciuc, you are speaking of two people: a mother and her daughter. Both Lilias are from the Republic of Moldova, a small country next to Romania. And both Lilias are pioneers. They can both claim to be the first Moldovan members of the Church.
Lilia, the mother, was baptized in the United States while she was visiting on a grant from the U.S. government, making her the first Moldovan baptized. That was in May 1997.
Then just six months later in November, her daughter, Lilia, became the first person baptized actually in Moldova. Since she was the first of several to be baptized that day, she treasures the honor of being allowed to be the first to join the Church in her country. Today both Lilias have been members for more than six years.
At first the only Church members in Moldova were three Latter-day Saint Americans: John Nielson and Paul and Betty Morris. They met in the Morrises’ home for sacrament meeting. Two elders from the România Bucharest Mission were sent to Moldova, and then the sheep began to recognize the voice of the Shepherd. Lilia and her mother began attending meetings after Lilia’s mother returned from the United States.
The younger Lilia tells the story of her conversion: “I started attending Church meetings six months before my baptism. I had my mother’s example this entire time. She introduced me to the Church by giving me a hymnbook. I came to love the first hymn I looked at, ‘Love One Another.’ I knew then that God wanted me to feel special and loved.”

Several weeks ago, I visited with Liriel Domiciano, a young woman from Brazil who has an extraordinary voice. Her talent has made her famous in Brazil. She insists on performing in modest attire, always wearing her Young Womanhood Medallion as a symbol of her values. When I asked her what kept her strong, she replied, “My mother is my protector.” As mothers, we simply must be our daughter’s protector. We must start early. We must set the example as we dress to easily meet temple standards. We can teach these standards to our daughters and help them as they anticipate and prepare for their own temple attendance. We must never compromise those standards in order that our daughters might be popular or accepted by those with not only worldly standards but worldly intentions. We must not only be their example but their protector.

“We knew quite early that Shawn would be good in basketball,” says Reiner. “I played ball with some men in the ward early mornings at the stake center. I asked Shawn if he would be interested in coming along. He went with me many mornings to the stake center and played with the adults when he was only eleven or twelve years old.”
Some time in his early teenage years, Shawn first beat his Dad in one-on-one basketball competition. “I don’t remember when it happened. When Dad would win, it would make me feel bad, so the next time, he’d let me beat him. I never really knew when I actually could beat him.”

“I’ve never had it easy,” says Dahvana Daneisha Shanika Providence from Saint Vincent.
After attending different schools due to constant changes in her earlier education and having health issues during her secondary education, she felt the need to achieve her dreams.
Having obtained second place on her first pageant, she decided to pursue her dreams in the textile world.
Being persistent in that dream has gotten Dahvana a scholarship in New York to study fashion after winning Miss Venus Model Caribbean 2018.

Q. So the gospel helps you with your composing?
A. Musicians don’t just write notes; we write feelings. And there aren’t any deeper or more spiritual feelings than what is inspired by the gospel. Since I joined the Church after my senior year in high school, everything has become more meaningful to me.
Plus the gospel gives me balance in my life. As important as music is, it’s not the most important thing. Once upon a time, the glitz and glamour of the business got to me, and I started worshipping the wrong things. I began to be depressed all the time and didn’t do a good job in my music. But I went through a reawakening and was able to put things back into perspective.
Q. What caused your reawakening?
A. A number of things, but part of it was my family. I have two daughters, and both were born with spina bifida, which basically means they’re paralyzed from the knees down. When Kristin was born nine years ago, she helped me realize some very important things. She was happy. I became aware that although she’d probably never perform great physical feats, she had everything she needed to be happy in this life and to return to our Heavenly Father. So I asked myself, “What are you doing, Brother Bestor? Why are you going for the fame and fortune of the world? You don’t need all that.”

All my life, missionary work has been stressed. But I thought, “I’m just a teenager. What can I do?”
I learned what I could do while on a visit to Temple Square with my sister. I wanted to leave and watch my favorite television show, but my sister wanted to stay a little longer. Then a feeling came over me that told me we should stay. While we were sitting on a bench, a young man came over and sat down beside us. The feeling came to me again urging me to talk to him.
What was I supposed to talk about? I looked over and saw that he had a pamphlet on genealogy. I asked him, “Do you understand what you’re reading?”
At first he said yes, then changed his mind. I explained a little about genealogy and started talking about eternal families. He talked about his family in England and started asking questions. He seemed genuinely interested in the answers I gave.
We walked into one of the visitors’ centers. I shared many of my own experiences, and he told me some of his. As we talked, the principles that I had been taught all my life in church suddenly began to have new meaning.
Toward the end of our visit, he asked me if I felt what he felt there on Temple Square. I asked him what he meant, and he said it was the same kind of feeling he had when he went to Jerusalem. He said it was the feeling he had felt that encouraged him to come to Salt Lake City. I told him that I did know what he was feeling.
This experience reminded me of a verse from the Doctrine and Covenants I had learned in seminary. “And now, if your joy will be great with one soul that you have brought unto me into the kingdom of my Father, how great will be your joy if you should bring many souls unto me!” (D&C 18:16).
I felt ready to burst with love and happiness that I could share the message of the gospel. I know that it doesn’t matter how old you are if you want to share the gospel. Opportunities for missionary work are all around, even if you are “just a teenager.”

After seeing the fine article in the November issue on exploring tips, we wanted other explorers to know that we just returned from a trip into Baja California. Four years ago, when Dr. C. R. Brown was called to be our post adviser from the high council, he asked us what we wanted to do. Everyone replied, “What difference does it make?” He said, “Try me.” We did. In the next four years we decided we wanted to go to Alaska, Guatemala, down the Baja trail, and to Europe. Well—after much work and planning, two years ago we went up the AI-Can Highway to Alaska and then down to the international Scout-Explorer Conference in Idaho. Last year we went to Guatemala, explored many ruins, and met some wonderful people. This year Brother Brown was released as our adviser, and in consultation with our new adviser, Frank Nelson, we decided to go down the Baja. Dune buggies and jeeps did the job. We cooked on the hot engines as we drove—venison steaks and fish fillets—by wrapping the meat in tinfoil and laying it on the engine for a couple of hours. As for going to Europe later this year, the request was made partly in jest, but our committee is considering it, and if sufficient funds can be raised, you can be sure that we’ll do it. We hope that other Explorer troops can take inspiration from what can be done if everyone starts to get excited.
Explorers of Post 440Covina (California) Second Ward

I know of a young widow who invested part of the proceeds of her husband’s life-insurance settlement with a close friend with the promise of a guaranteed high interest rate. Though the investment paid out for several years, one day the checks stopped coming. Soon thereafter, the company filed for bankruptcy, and the widow lost many tens of thousands of dollars. She felt betrayed that the sacred funds her late husband had provided were lost in this way.

I felt the Lord inspire my care decisions with one of my patients, a homeless woman with drug addictions who was working as a prostitute to survive. She had been raped and abused since she was a little child. She had been found on the streets after yet another rape and brought to the emergency room. As someone who had been marginalized for most of her life, she was anxious in the emergency room and distrustful of me and other first responders. She was most distraught about her feet. You see, she had been without shoes for two weeks, and her feet were caked with dirt and grime. I realized that the most important first act for me to do for this patient was to ­lovingly wash and lotion her feet. After this simple act of washing her feet, her countenance changed to trusting me and then receiving care. For many of my patients, I am with them ­during the worst time of their lives. Yet some of my patients have experienced a lifetime of trauma and abuses. In my work, there seems to be a never-ending amount of despair, brutality, and pain.

In January 1999 my father had a serious accident and was admitted to intensive care, where he was able to breathe only with the help of a respirator. He suffered hematomas, which caused swelling of the brain.
When the rest of the family learned of his condition, we immediately went to the hospital. As a physician, I knew the outlook was dim. Nevertheless, we fasted, prayed, and trusted in our Heavenly Father to restore my father so that soon, despite any aftereffects or the treatments he might need, he would come home again and be the wonderful guide and protector he had always been. As we fasted and prayed, I felt my faith grow stronger, and I anxiously waited for him to open his eyes and start to recover.
Visits from our inspired bishop were a constant strength during this trial. He gave my father a priesthood blessing, and we waited for a change.
Since my father did not improve, we began to wonder if our pleadings were really in accordance with Heavenly Father’s will. One night the bishop, after giving us blessings, talked to us about the plan of salvation and told us that when someone is blessed to recover, he or she will live if not appointed unto death (see D&C 42:48). He also gave us a copy of “Tragedy or Destiny” (see Improvement Era, Mar. 1966, 178–80, 210–17), a talk by President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985). The bishop urged us to ask God what plans He had. After we said good-bye to the bishop, I decided with much sorrow to follow his counsel. I was able to learn that my father’s time on earth had come to an end.
Complications arose, and my father’s condition deteriorated even more. His natural strength abated before our eyes, and we knew that this was a confirmation of what was going to happen. I worried that my pain at losing him would become so great I would lose my faith and vision and not be able to endure. But that isn’t what happened.
Never before had the wonderful plan of happiness had the meaning it now had in my life. I was able to feel a peace that tempered my emotions. It opened my eyes and mind and enabled me to understand to a limited extent the greatness, glory, and majesty of life and the importance of this brief time on earth.
The time came to tell my father, “Until we meet again.” Nine days after the accident, he died. I was with him as he reached the end of his earthly existence, but now I had a different understanding. I was able to feel how sweetly our Heavenly Father loves us and how He prepares the necessary opportunities for us to become as He is.
My confidence is complete that the day will come, if we endure to the end, when through the Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, we will rise clothed in glory, immortality, and eternal life. Death is just a new beginning.

When I was a newly called deacons quorum president, I wasn’t sure how to increase my spirituality. I started doing family history, usually each Sunday. I have been going to the temple every Saturday morning. My goal was to take male baptism and confirmation names as often as I could. After I went to the temple each week, I would feel a little more spiritual, and that way I was able to help my quorum better.
Josh B., 13, Utah, USA