Gospel Story Finder

Several years ago my daughter, who was only seven years old, had a large swollen bump on the front of her neck. The pediatrician who was treating Jeanette explained that she had a goiter and that it was growing internally and externally and was quite serious. He sent her to the hospital for some tests and said she would probably have to have an operation.
Our family immediately began to fast and pray for Jeanette’s recovery. We prayed that everything would turn out all right. Jeanette had great faith and would often say, “Mama, I know that God is going to heal me and they won’t have to operate.”
The days went by, and the time came to take her to the children’s hospital in San José, the capital of Costa Rica. Before we went, my husband and my two brothers gave her a priesthood blessing. During the blessing, Jeanette felt within herself that a great miracle was being worked. She felt a sweet and tender hand pass over her throat. “Mama,” she said later, “I know I’m fine. They’re not going to put me in the hospital or operate on me.”
While we were in the hospital waiting room, I asked Jeanette how she felt.
“Just fine,” she told me, and she said again that there was not anything wrong with her.
My husband and I prayed constantly and tried to exercise faith that all would be well. We also understood that it might not be the Lord’s will for Jeanette to be healed; we prayed for the courage and faith to accept that answer as well.
Eventually the doctor called my daughter into his office and began to examine her. Then, very surprised, he said, “I’m sorry, but you will have to wait here for a moment. I have some concerns, and I need to call some of my colleagues.”
He left and returned with five other pediatricians. I was so nervous I was shaking, but my daughter was happy and calm. The doctors examined her, and then our pediatrician said, “She’s fine. There’s not a thing wrong with her. I don’t know what happened, but she’s fine. Go home and don’t worry about her.”
My daughter is 14 years old now, and she is very healthy and active and has a strong testimony. My own testimony has been strengthened because of her example. We are grateful that Heavenly Father heard and answered our prayers. And while the doctors may have been confused by these events, we understand what happened and are grateful for the Lord’s healing blessings in our lives.

Sitting on the stand of the St. George (Utah) Tabernacle, waiting for her performance to begin, Sheena Rosander couldn’t help remembering the year before when she had been waiting to perform at a high school talent show.
“It was one of the only times I really had the jitters before a performance,” says Sheena. “I followed a rock group and knew immediately that the classical song I loved to play on the piano wasn’t really what kids wanted to hear. I depend so much on the Spirit to help me play, and that Spirit just wasn’t there.”
But this night, things were different. Thankfully, the Spirit was in abundance as her six functioning fingers flew over the keyboard of the grand piano creating music, the kind that brings a lump to the throat.
Sheena Rosander, 18, from Hurricane, Utah, was born with what some people consider a disability. But to Sheena, having only a partial thumb and no fingers on her left hand is a gift. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have all 10 fingers, like how much easier keyboarding would be,” says Sheena. “But I usually just find a way to go around it. My mom wanted me to peel potatoes, and I was really struggling with that potato peeler. So I decided when I have my own family I’ll just have baked potatoes. There’s always a way to do things.”
And that’s pretty much how Sheena has been able to enjoy her favorite activities, like playing and teaching tennis, playing the violin, teaching piano lessons, and competing at performing-arts festivals.
In fact, she’s used her good attitude as a springboard to propel her into positive social situations. On her first day of kindergarten, when Sheena proudly displayed her hand at “show and tell,” one child told her it looked like a Cabbage Patch doll’s hand. Delighted, she added several Cabbage Patch dolls to her already thriving collection. Her favorite had red hair and blue eyes, just like Sheena.
That kind of confidence comes naturally. Even before she was born, her mother, Toni, decided all her children would learn to play piano. Sheena began lessons at age five.
“She was determined to play the piano,” recalls her teacher, Tammy Drake. “Her hand was never an obstacle. She would compensate with her right hand to achieve a full sound. Then one day, she began playing with her left hand, using her thumb and pinky stub. Sheena has shown all of us a new kind of courage and determination. Some listeners never even know about her hand. She plays beautifully.”

Grandmother Jo reached in and pulled out a small velvet box. She opened it to reveal a medal. “This is the Purple Heart medal awarded to your Grandfather Thomas, who fought in World War II,” she explained. “He was wounded on D-Day.”
Christopher proudly held the medal in his hands. Grandfather must have been very brave, he thought. Grandmother Jo took a picture from the chest and showed it to Christopher. It was Grandfather Thomas. He looked handsome and brave dressed in his soldier uniform.

Moses’s son Lewis stepped into those boots, although he was not a left-footer. He played for the East Ardsley High School team and later played soccer, rugby, and cricket for the West Riding Auto Company. In 1940 he was called into the army. Serving in the Duke of Wellington Regiment, he rose to the rank of master sergeant in the infantry. He fought in France and Germany and along the way played on army soccer teams. He won’t talk much now about the fighting, but he speaks with relish about the soccer. He rose from his company team to the division team and then to the regiment team, the top of the heap. After the war his team toured Germany playing other army teams. They beat the Grenadier Guards in Dusseldorf Stadium in the semifinals of the army-wide championship and finally lost to the Royal Engineers in overtime in the championship match. Most of England’s finest young soccer players were in the military, so Lewis, an amateur, held his own with the elite of professional soccer until being demobbed (discharged) in 1946.

My name is Orlando José Macho Núñez, and I was born in Caracas, Venezuela, on December 16, 1970. From a young age, I have seen the miracles of the Lord and felt His help in every challenge I faced. One of those miracles happened in 1986 when I learned about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. A neighbor introduced my mother to the Church, and she was baptized. She promised the Lord that she would also teach me about the Church. I felt the importance of her promise and went with her to a meeting the following Sunday. Two weeks later, I was baptized. My mother was the Lord’s instrument in making this happen.

I had an experience that influenced my feelings about the importance of choosing what is right. Several years ago, the young daughter of a friend of mine died in a tragic accident. Hopes and dreams were shattered. My friend felt unbearable sorrow. He began to question what he believed.

The mother of my friend asked if I would talk to him and give him a blessing. As I laid my hands upon his head, I felt to tell him something I had not thought about in the same way before. The impression that came to me was this: “Faith is not only a feeling; it is also a decision.” He would need to choose faith.

My friend chose the road of faith and obedience. He got on his knees. His spiritual balance returned. The ability to seek within ourselves the gift of faith is an enormous spiritual blessing.

“We would go down,” Elder Hockett said, “usually on a very cold Saturday morning, and work all day picking pecans in an elderly couple’s 12-acre orchard near Atlanta, Georgia. We’d pick all the pecans we could, sell them, then donate the money to the welfare program. And I remember as a priest, working in the regional welfare cannery, cooking chili for eight or nine hours. And I always remember the father-and-son campouts. My brother and I didn’t have a father, and some of the brethren would always say, ‘Can I be your father?’ or ‘I’ll be your father again this year if you want me to.’ We never felt left out in our ward.”

Stephen Norris (here with his dad, Kim) almost backed out of the opportunity of a lifetime. After being chosen as one of three students to live in Germany for a year, a former student casually mentioned that Germany had two religions, Catholic and Protestant.
“If you’re anything else,” she said, “you’re pretty much out of luck.”
Not wanting to miss church attendance for a year, Stephen was ready to decline the honor of being chosen, until the former student told him something else.
“Latter-day Saint kids are different, though. They always seem to find their church by bike or bus or whatever.”
That was the green light Stephen needed. This priest from Birmingham, Alabama, will spend the school year living with a German family and learning about German culture.
He will also have some new gospel experiences, like participating in the German Scouting program and doing a year of home-study seminary. And, of course, he’ll attend church. Even if it means riding his bike.

Lealand and John were hot and tired. A large feedbox stood near the corral where they had been playing all morning and the boys climbed up on it to rest a few minutes. When they slid down to go back to their play, they decided to lift up the heavy lid and see what was inside.
The boys were fascinated when they saw some crickets hopping in a handful of feed in the bottom of the box.
“Let’s catch them,” one of the boys suggested.
The feedbox had been carefully lined with tin to keep out storm and moisture and was barely large enough for the two little boys to squeeze inside. But it didn’t take them long to slip off their shoes, put them side by side on the ground, and then help each other into the box.
Just at that moment a cow eating from a nearby trough, tossed her head and flipped the lid back over the box. A lock on the outside caught, and Lealand and John were prisoners!
Except for a thread-like crack where the lid fit over the top, the box was airtight. The boys tried to keep their noses as close to the crack as possible while they frantically called for help.
Not even a faint breeze stirred the hot air outside, and no one heard the cries for help. Every minute the box became more uncomfortable.
Then eight-year-old John said, “Oh, Lealand, let’s pray. No one else can hear us, but our Heavenly Father can.”
The boys took turns whispering desperate prayers. Afterward, in spite of the heat and lack of oxygen, they felt better.
A few minutes later Lealand’s four-year-old brother, Wesley, noticed the shoes on the ground outside the feedbox. He stopped and looked at them. Then he climbed up on his little wagon to see if the older boys were hiding from him inside the box. Somehow he managed to undo the lock.
John and Lealand were then able to push the lid all the way up. They were almost too weak to climb out, but when the fresh air rushed in, they felt a new surge of strength. Wet with perspiration, they got out of the box and staggered gratefully toward home.

My Aunt Debbie has always been one of my best friends. On my special birthday, when I turned 8, I was baptized. After my baptism, we had a great party and my family and friends came over. It was a big celebration! My Aunt Debbie and her family haven’t come to church for a long time, but I invited her to my baptism and party anyway, and they came.
At my party, I had two birthday cakes. One came from a bakery, but the other one was homemade and it was extra special. It had pure white frosting, and on the top was Captain Moroni. He is one of my favorites, and Mom knows I like him.
When we were serving Aunt Debbie her slice of cake, she asked for a piece of my Captain Moroni cake. I told her that if she ate a slice of that cake, she would have to promise to go to church with me on Sunday and sit beside me. She said, “Brian, I promise!” My branch president was sitting beside her, and he said, “I heard that!” Everyone laughed. I was so happy because I love Aunt Debbie, and I know she loves Heavenly Father. I want her to be happy, too.
My mom told me later that I am the best missionary in our family. My dad said that I am a good example, just like Captain Moroni. I hope I can always follow the Savior like he did.
I know that Heavenly Father has blessed my family and my branch. Since my birthday, Aunt Debbie and her family have been coming to church. As a matter of fact, Aunt Debbie is now my Primary teacher and everyone in her class loves her. I’m so glad she comes to church now and that we can all learn together how to follow Jesus Christ.

The enthusiasm the dogs have for pulling is obvious the minute Tawnya walks outside with harnesses in hand. The dogs prick up their ears and begin barking and jumping. They’re eager.
“I learn lots of things from these dogs,” Tawnya says. “Enthusiasm for what you’re doing is one of them. Another is obedience. You don’t use reins with them, just voice commands. If they didn’t listen to what I told them, I could have had some really bad accidents. Once, if the dogs had followed their instincts and kept running, rather than stopping right when I told them to, we would have gone right between a mother bear and her cub. I don’t think any of us would have survived that.”

Something else that helped me adjust to post-mission life was sharing my testimony whenever I got the chance. Sometimes I even had the opportunity to share my beliefs during presentations in my university classes.
After my philosophy professor assigned me to do a presentation on justice and freedom, I showed a Church video called “Be Still, My Soul.” The video is about a woman who is arrested for drug abuse. While she’s in jail, she misses her children. After she goes through rehabilitation, she returns home a new person.
I ended my presentation with my testimony. I said we all have our God-given agency, but that He has given us commandments to help us understand how to not harm ourselves or others. I also testified that He lives.
My professor and classmates didn’t protest against anything I said. And my testimony left them feeling thoughtful. I’ve learned that you never know when someone might need your insight in order to believe that God and Jesus Christ really do exist.

In the village where my wife grew up, her parents, who were good churchgoing people, embraced the gospel as a young married couple with my wife as their two-year-old daughter and only child at that time. Their decision to become members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had a great impact on their lives as they were shunned by the villagers and by their family. It took many years, loving notes to family members, and service to the community before they were finally accepted.
On one occasion when my wife’s father was serving as a bishop, he was falsely accused of something and was immediately released. My mother-in-law was so hurt that she asked her husband if they should continue to go to church. He answered that they of course would continue to go to church since this is not the church of men, but this is the Church of Jesus Christ.
It took some time before the truth came to light and apologies were made. What could have been their breaking point just added to their strength and conviction.

Micah serves as an ambassador at his school. An ambassador helps new students. They give school tours, show how the curriculum works, and help new students fit in.
“I helped one of my friends when he first came to our school,” Micah says. “During lunch, he asked me questions about school, and I answered them. I tried to make him feel comfortable. It’s nice to stand up for friends who might be feeling down, sad, or lonely. It makes me feel like I’m becoming more like Jesus Christ.”

President Hunter enjoyed camping. Many times the boys and their father camped in a grove of trees on an undeveloped piece of land near their home.
Howard also liked camping while they were traveling. John and Richard both recall the night the three of them were jolted from sleep by the noise and the headlight of a train coming straight at them! Just a short distance away, it changed direction, passing within six meters. In the dark, they had rolled out their sleeping bags at the base of a railroad track.

I was almost 13 when my family moved to Pendleton, Oregon, which was a big town to me with about 6,000 people in it. My dad ran the agricultural experimental station for Oregon State University. It was 168 acres in size, and it was fenced all the way around. I had a job hoeing the weeds from under the fence, and initially I hated that job.
One afternoon I was hoeing weeds with a friend named Arlen Jenkins. I was complaining and moaning and groaning about the hard work, but he looked at me and said, “You know, you really need to consider that if we weren’t doing this, we might be doing something worse.” That was his attitude. He was always happy doing any type of work because he knew he could be doing something worse. I have tried to reflect that attitude in every job I have had since that time.

Even though I had the gospel in my life, life was hard. My father was still not working and had Parkinson’s so during a secondary school vacation, I would pick up any menial work I could find. My father, amidst the challenges of life, quit the Church but allowed me to continue. After secondary school, our stake started the Young Single Adult Gathering Place. I signed up for shoemaking class, but I was alone, so the stake president arranged for me to learn the craft with the instructor at his shop. I am passionate about fashion, especially footwear, because everyone needs footwear, and well-made shoes do not go out of fashion.
I worked long hours for very little pay. Attending church became difficult as I was often required to work on Sundays. I apprenticed for over two years and then was able to break out on my own by saving small amounts until I had enough to buy one tool. It would take me 2–3 months of saving to buy another hand tool, but I had a goal. I had examples of what I was going through in the scriptures, I knew that it would worth it. Sleeping on a bare floor, eating one meal a day, working literally day and night would all prove to help me in the future.
My stake president connected me with a couple who were able to help me get some machines to start my business, Kuatsikor Shoes. I named it after my father, to honor him since he never lived to see my business, having died in July 2019. My motto is “Walk Miles”. In August 2023, I was endowed in the house of the Lord in the Accra Ghana Temple. It was such a great experience. The moment I stepped into the temple, I felt a heavy burden had been lifted, it’s hard to explain. I felt a new peace and joy. The gospel of Jesus Christ has significantly impacted my life because I had the feeling that I was in the right place, my first Sunday at church. I will always be grateful for the self-reliance programs organized at the stake center that gave me insights and knowledge about how to grow my own business and to manage my finances. I believe if I continue to stick to these principles, my vision of becoming the best shoemaker in Africa shall come to pass. I know that God speaks to his servants, the prophets.

In another case, a young brother was reactivated as the result of the establishment of the outreach initiative to bring into activity young single adults ages 18 to 30. On the first night of activities in one of our Church buildings, this brother was the only nonmissionary attending, but within a few weeks, he had brought about 30 people to family home evening and other activities.
This brother is a Web site designer—he and a partner started their own Web design business. He currently lives with two nonmembers, both of whom work at his Web design company. He is very bold about sharing his testimony. One of his coworkers previously had studied Christian theology, and this brother referred him to the missionaries working in the young single adult program. Now his coworker is a regular attendee of the activities, and this reactivated brother assists the missionaries as they teach him by adding his testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel to theirs.

Amanda Smith grabbed her two daughters and escaped across the millpond on a walkway. When the mob finally entered the blacksmith shop, seven-year-old Alma Smith saw them murder his father and brother. He himself was severely shot in the hip. His mother later found him, and through prayer and by following the instructions of the Spirit, he was healed. At least seventeen people were killed at Haun’s Mill and thirteen others were wounded.

I met Bill Forrest and Debbie Hutchings when we were students at Brigham Young University. Bill had returned from his mission. He and Debbie fell in love and were married in the Oakland California Temple. They established their home in Mesa, Arizona, and were blessed with five sons and two daughters. Bill and Debbie taught their children to love the Lord Jesus Christ as they loved Him. Their son, Elder Daniel Forrest, currently serving in the Mexico Oaxaca Mission, said, “Every morning without fail we were there at the table before school reading and discussing the scriptures.”

Their daughter Kara, now married with two children of her own, still vividly remembers her father driving her to early morning activities in high school. She said, “My dad enjoyed committing quotes, scriptures, and poems to memory, [and during those early morning drives] we would practice reciting them.” One of his favorite scriptures was “Remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, … [he] shall have no power over you to drag you down … because of the rock upon which ye are built.”40

On the Friday before Easter Sunday in the year 2000, exactly 10 years ago, Bill Forrest was serving as bishop of the Estate Groves Ward in Arizona. On his drive to work, only a mile (1.6 km) from home, his car was struck by a large gravel truck. Debbie and the children left home shortly after Bill and unexpectedly came upon the tragic scene. Bill had not survived the accident. The immortal spirit of this beloved husband and father had suddenly been taken home to Him who overcame death, the Son of God, whose glorious Resurrection they were to have celebrated together that Easter Sunday.

How did Debbie and her seven children (the youngest only 5) find the strength they needed? Kara, 15 at the time of her father’s accident, recently told me: “I am grateful to my [mother and father] for the ways that they taught me [about the Savior]. They opened the scriptures with me, prayed with me, and were examples of [the Savior’s] charity, love, and patience. … Easter [is] a tender time in my life each year as I reflect on the life, mission, and Resurrection of our Savior and am reminded of the life of my earthly father.”

Elder Daniel Forrest said: “I was 10 years old when my father passed away. It was a tough time. … My mother has always been an example of the Savior’s teachings. I carry with me my father’s name badge from his mission to Spain. [Two] of my favorite quotes from my father [are]: ‘Two men can do anything as long as one of them is the Lord’ and ‘The Savior must be our foundation. Without that we flounder.’”

Faith in Jesus Christ has filled the hearts of the Forrest children. On this Easter weekend, 10 years since their father’s passing, they miss him deeply, but the sting of his death is “swallowed up in Christ.”41 They know, because of the incalculable gift of the Savior, they can be with their earthly father and their Heavenly Father again.