Gospel Story Finder

Sometimes, too, family prayer time helps establish an atmosphere in which we can do things together that don’t seem to happen at other times. Ann Banks wrote, “Our teenage son was tense and sullen whenever we tried to discuss any problem with him. We decided it was important to plan the discussion when he would be most receptive, and that seemed to be at family prayer time in the mornings. It was then that the house was quiet and we shared a humble, sincere feeling. We found the tenseness eased when prayer preceded our discussions.” (Ensign, January 1976, page 37.)

Some of the Relief Society sisters from Ghana are among those who have found joy in keeping covenants, even under stressful circumstances. In 1989 the government of Ghana padlocked the doors of the churches and forbade Latter-day Saints to meet together to practice their religion. Persecution against Church members was great. Sisters like Faustina Otoo, however, expressed increased devotion, “I am happy to live in this time when all these things are happening. We were always told we were the pioneers here.”

Church members found ways to show their commitment. They held family devotionals; they studied the scriptures and read Church history. Sister Emma Twereboa-Kodua, a branch Relief Society president in Nsawam, Ghana, wrote, “I keep visiting the active sisters and they are all in good spirits. … I have tried to fast and pray more and better than I have ever done in all my life. My faith has increased greatly. Now things that usually irritate me no longer do, anger and frustrations no longer have the same effect on me. These are some of the blessings that I have gained during these trying times.” The restrictions on church meetings were lifted in December 1990.

Karen and Emily, still doing things together, had baby girls within a week of each other. I took a pink dress to Emily’s little Julie and absolutely fell in love with her. Karen’s mother told me in church one day that Karen, David, and their little Melissa would be coming in March to show off the baby and get her blessed where Grandpa and all three of Karen’s adoring older brothers could stand in the circle.
As I made my way down the stairs and into the chapel, I met Emily and her baby in the foyer. It was her first time back to church since Julie’s birth. We talked for a minute and then entered the chapel. Emily and her mother sat in the row in front of me, and just before the meeting, Emily leaned back guiltily and whispered to me, “I forgot this was fast Sunday until I looked at the program. We just finished eating a turkey dinner at Ted’s, so I guess I’ll have to fast twice next month.” I smiled and just then my stomach growled uncomfortably, testifying to the fact that I had remembered.
Through the rows of heads and shoulders that I saw from my position on the fourth row from the back, I caught a glimpse of Karen and the rest of her family taking up an entire center bench. I was glad that she had made it but sorry I’d missed her before the meeting. I’d have to hurry to the front after the closing prayer to talk to her.
After the songs and announcements were over and after we had taken the sacrament, Bishop Edwards stood behind the pulpit and said, “This afternoon we have a special treat. I know many of you have known Karen Evans since she was a little girl.” Emily looked back at me and winked knowingly, but then turned her head sharply forward as the bishop went on. “Well, this afternoon Karen, now Karen Sanders, has brought her own little girl to receive a name and a blessing from her husband. Assisting in the circle will be her father and brothers.”
As I watched David take his little girl from Karen and carry her almost reverently to the front, I could see a side view of Emily. Tears were rapidly filling her deep blue eyes and streaming down her face onto Julie’s downy head. Her shoulders shook violently as she buried her head in her baby’s neck. Emily’s mother tenderly put her arm around her daughter’s throbbing shoulders, and I could see that she, too, was crying. Emily looked up, and I heard her gasp in a desperate whisper, “Oh Mama! Who is going to bless my baby?”
“I bless you, Melissa, with a sound mind and body,” I heard David Sanders say at the front of the room, “and that you will live a righteous life, that when the time comes, you will meet a choice son of our Father in heaven, one who honors his priesthood and who will take you to the temple of the Lord to be sealed to him for eternity.” Through the entire blessing and for the rest of the meeting, Julie’s baby shawl absorbed her tears.
And now, even though a year has passed, and even though the dark-haired women in this once strange country contrast vividly with blonde Emily, whenever my companion and I are out tracting, or we go to a branch meeting and I see a mother and baby alone, something grabs at my heart. For I keep seeing Emily.

The Anchorage Stake holds early-morning seminary at the stake center. It isn’t always easy to get there. With the deep snow and bitter temperatures plus the dark, many have to be truly dedicated to make the effort to get to seminary. One girl and her brother paddle a canoe across the lake in front of their home. When the lake is frozen, they take a snowmobile. After seminary, all the Mormon students catch the school bus at the same stop. They sometimes get teased about always being together, but it causes their friends to ask why they all are in the same place at the same time early in the morning. Several friends have become interested and started attending seminary too. Michelle Warner says, “Everyone at school knows you’re a Mormon. Even though they sometimes make fun of our standards, you can tell that deep down they respect you.”

Some years ago, President Thomas S. Monson came to a regional conference in Hamburg, Germany, and it was my honor to accompany him.
President Monson asked about Brother Michael Panitsch, a former stake president who had been one of the stalwart pioneers of the Church in Germany. I told him that Brother Panitsch was seriously ill, that he was bedridden and unable to attend our meetings.
President Monson asked if we could pay him a visit.
I knew that shortly before his trip to Hamburg, President Monson had undergone foot surgery and that he could not walk without pain. I explained that Brother Panitsch lived on the fifth floor of a building with no elevators. We would have to climb the stairs to see him.
But President Monson insisted. And so we went.
I remember how difficult it was for President Monson to climb those stairs. He could take only a few at a time before needing to stop and rest. He never uttered a word of complaint, and he would not turn back. Because the building had high ceilings, the stairs seemed to go on forever, but President Monson cheerfully persevered until we arrived at the apartment of Brother Panitsch on the fifth floor.
Once there, we had a wonderful visit. President Monson thanked him for his life of dedicated service and cheered him with a smile. Before we left, he gave him a wonderful priesthood blessing.
President Monson could have chosen to rest between our long meetings. He could have asked to see some of the beautiful sights of Hamburg. I have often thought of how remarkable it was that of all the sights in that city, the one he wanted to see more than any other was a feeble and ailing member of the Church.
President Monson came to Hamburg to teach and bless the people of a country. But at the same time, he focused on the one.

Parañaque City, near Manila, was hit by Tropical Storm Ketsana in late September. At the height of the storm, the bishop of one of the four local wards floated across neck-deep floodwaters on a Styrofoam cooler lid to help evacuate three families. The next day sacrament meeting was canceled; however, many members of the affected ward, though dealing with the effects of the storm themselves, met at the meetinghouse in pajamas, shorts, and jackets, carrying food and clothes to be given to those in need. In about two hours, all the families in the ward were visited, checked on, and helped.
Then, only two nights after many of them had been wading through the wreckage of their own villages, members from the Parañaque area gathered at their local meetinghouse and assembled 26 bags of clothing, which they had donated, all sorted and individually packaged.
“It was one of the most memorable home evenings for many families in our ward,” said Bishop Franco Advincula.
A sister from a family in need called the bishop to ask when they could give their contributions. “I was stunned, and I couldn’t find the right words,” said Bishop Advincula. “However, I was inspired that I should not deny this good sister the opportunity to help.”

Kendra liked her new home. She liked her new bedroom. And she liked her new Primary.
She liked everything about her new house except for one thing. She missed living near her grandma. Visiting Grandma didn’t happen very often now.
One day after lunch, Mommy brought in the mail.
Here’s a letter for you, Kendra.
Who sent me a letter?
She had never received a letter before.
It’s from your grandma. Let’s sit down and I’ll help you read it.
Dear Kendra,You are a good big sister to your baby brother. I love you very much, and I miss you. Remember that there is someone else who loves you and always watches over you.Love, Grandma
Grandma’s talking about Heavenly Father!
That’s right, Heavenly Father loves you.
I want to write a letter to Grandma.
Mommy found a piece of paper and a pencil. Kendra sat at the table and did her very best printing. Mommy helped her spell the words.
Dear Grandma,Thank you for the letter. I miss you too. I know Heavenly Father is watching over you.Love, Kendra
Kendra put the letter into an envelope and licked the flap. Mommy helped her write Grandma’s address on the envelope. Then Kendra put a stamp on it and put it in the mailbox.
I’m glad Grandma loves me even though we live far away now.
Grandma will always love you, no matter how far away you are.
Just like Heavenly Father will always love me!
Kendra felt warm and happy.

I think of what occurred 141 years ago in the old Tabernacle, which stood where Temple Square is now located. And I take you back to the general conference of October 1856. On Saturday of that conference, Elder Franklin D. Richards and a handful of associates arrived in the valley. They had traveled from Winter Quarters with strong teams and light wagons and had been able to make good time.
Brother Richards immediately sought out President Brigham Young. He reported that there were hundreds of men, women, and children scattered over the long trail from Scottsbluff to this valley. Most of them were pulling handcarts. They were accompanied by two wagon trains which had been assigned to assist them. They had reached the area of the last crossing of the North Platte River. Ahead of them lay a trail that was uphill all the way to the Continental Divide with many, many miles beyond that. They were in desperate trouble.
Winter had come early. Snow-laden winds were howling across the highlands of what is now western Nebraska and Wyoming. Our people were hungry, their carts and their wagons were breaking down, their oxen dying. The people themselves were dying. All of them would perish unless they were rescued.
I think President Young did not sleep that night. I think visions of those destitute, freezing, dying people paraded through his mind.
The next morning he came to the old Tabernacle. He said to the people:
“I will now give this people the subject and the text for the Elders who may speak. … It is this. … Many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with handcarts, and probably many are now seven hundred miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. The text will be, ‘to get them here.’
“That is my religion; that is the dictation of the Holy Ghost that I possess. It is to save the people.
“I shall call upon the Bishops this day. I shall not wait until tomorrow, nor until the next day, for 60 good mule teams and 12 or 15 wagons. I do not want to send oxen. I want good horses and mules. They are in this Territory, and we must have them. Also 12 tons of flour and 40 good teamsters, besides those that drive the teams.
“I will tell you all that your faith, religion, and profession of religion, will never save one soul of you in the Celestial Kingdom of our God, unless you carry out just such principles as I am now teaching you. Go and bring in those people now on the plains” (in LeRoy R. Hafen and Ann W. Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, 1960, 120–21).
That afternoon food, bedding, and clothing in great quantities were assembled by the women.
The next morning, horses were shod and wagons were repaired and loaded.
The following morning, Tuesday, 16 mule teams pulled out and headed eastward. By the end of October there were 250 teams on the road to give relief.

Brothers and sisters, I invite you to seek opportunities to bear your testimony in word and in deed. Such an opportunity came to me recently, at the end of a meeting with the mayor of a capital city in South America, in his chambers with a number of his cabinet officials. As we concluded with very cordial feelings, I hesitantly thought I should share my testimony. Following the prompting, I offered a witness that Jesus Christ is the Son of the living God and the Savior of the world. Everything changed at that moment. The Spirit in the room was undeniable. It seemed everyone was touched. “The Comforter … beareth record of the Father and of the Son.” I am so grateful I summoned the courage to bear my testimony.

READER 6: How do we know that God really cares?
READER 1: Mrs. Houstalis, I’m sorry, but the examination shows that your baby has no vision in one eye and just partial vision in the other.
READER 4: How much vision? How much?
READER 1: Well, very little.
READER 4: No, it can’t be. Surely there’s enough to see. He’s got to see.
READER 1: Now, Mrs. Houstalis, I’m going to tell you something. It doesn’t matter whether your son can see or not as to what kind of a person he’s going to be. If he is going to be a healthy human being, it will be your doing. And if he is going to be an emotional cripple, it will be your doing. The fact that he can see or not has nothing to do with it.
READER 4: We took Steve home, and it was something to adjust to … frightening. We were very grateful for the tiny bit of vision—something like 3 percent—that Steve had in his right eye. Not much, but next to total blindness it meant everything. One afternoon when Steve was seven, he came home from school, and I gave him a plateful of his favorite cookies that I had just finished baking.
READER 3: Mommy, there must be something wrong with the lights in the classroom because they kept flashing off and on today.
READER 4: I absolutely froze. My heart started pounding. I had refused to face the possibility that Steve might lose the little vision he did have—although the doctors warned me that he might. And now the doctor confirmed. There was no hope. The retina had detached. He had no sight now. But I will never forget a most beautiful experience at the end of a Church meeting. I had been deeply moved, and I turned to Steve and said that anything he would ask in prayer would be granted.
READER 3: Anything? Anything, Mom?
READER 4: Immediately I realized what a foolish thing it was to have said. But I had to stand behind my words. “Anything, Steve.” After the service Steve wanted to tell me what he had asked for. I didn’t really want to hear. I was nearly afraid to. “What did you ask for, Steve?”
READER 3: Well (pause), do you think God would help me get some music in braille for my flute?
(Music interlude.)

At the Whitmer farm, Joseph translated rapidly, but some days were challenging. His mind would wander to other matters, and he could not focus on spiritual things.23 The Whitmers’ small house was always busy and full of distractions. Moving there had meant giving up the relative privacy he and Emma had enjoyed in Harmony.
One morning, as he was getting ready to translate, Joseph became upset with Emma. Later, when he joined Oliver and David in the upstairs room where they worked, he could not translate a syllable.
He left the room and walked outside to the orchard. He stayed away for about an hour, praying. When he came back, he apologized to Emma and asked for forgiveness. He then went back to translating as usual.24

There are so many great young people. One who comes to mind was a well-dressed, good-looking young man, sharp, well-spoken, and contemporary in every constructive way, but he was obviously deeply distressed as he rose to offer a greeting in behalf of the university student body of which he was president. His audience was made up of regents and trustees of institutions of higher education meeting in conference at his school. The group had listened to a series of speeches from educators, noting with approval the abandonment on college and university campuses of the doctrine of in loco parentis, a term that means, as you may know, “standing in the place of a parent.” The schools, the speakers said, no longer accept the responsibility of standing in the place of a parent to the students who attend them. Knowledge, intellect, reason—these are the goods with which these institutions deal; the private life of the individual is not their proper concern.
The young student president said what many of us were thinking:
“I’ve listened to your announcement of the abandonment of the principle of in loco parentis,” he said, “and feel there is something you should know. If in fact the school is no longer interested in or willing to fill that role—if it doesn’t care about us as persons, as good parents would care—then that leaves a great many of us with no parents at all anyplace.”
No further explanation was made, and none was needed.

Not long after she was released, she met missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She had seen them around, so they were familiar to her, but for some reason on this day, Te Awhina felt compelled to call them over.
“I had a question,” she recalls. “You might think this is a silly question, but when you grow up with no concept of God . . . I just didn’t know.” She said to the missionaries, “If you can answer me one question, I’ll listen to [your message].”
Then she asked: “Is God a man or a woman?”
One of the missionaries replied, “God is our loving Heavenly Father.”
This answer brought an unexpected sense of clarity and peace to Te Awhina. She wanted to learn more. “Okay,” she said to the missionaries. “I’ll listen to you.”
It has now been 10 years since Te Awhina was baptised a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She became a missionary herself, very soon after her baptism, when she served in the Australia Brisbane Mission. Then, in 2020, she married Josh, “the man of my dreams.” The couple looks forward to being sealed to each other—for time and all eternity—as soon as the New Zealand Hamilton Temple is reopened.
Reflecting on how her incredible journey began with a simple question, Te Awhina notes that the Prophet Joseph Smith also received his greatest revelation because he had the courage to ask of God, and like Joseph Smith, Te Awhina learned that sometimes the answer does not come easily.
When the missionaries first explained the Word of Wisdom to her, Te Awhina’s first reaction was, “No thanks.” But even as she struggled with the idea of giving up harmful substances, she surprised herself by how quickly she obeyed. Basically, “By end of that [missionary] lesson, I had given up coffee,” she laughs.
Not everything fell into place as effortlessly, but Te Awhina persevered and has been rewarded with healing and forgiveness through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Over the years, it has brought her strength and hope to know that young Joseph Smith also wrestled with a terrible darkness, just before he experienced the miraculous First Vision, which would usher in a new dispensation of the gospel on earth.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s words have helped Te Awhina understand this pattern:
“It is the plain and very sobering truth that before great moments, certainly before great spiritual moments, there can come adversity, opposition, and darkness. Life has some of those moments for us, and occasionally they come just as we are approaching an important decision or a significant step in our lives.”1
“As I celebrate my 10-year anniversary of coming into the fold, I have found healing that can only come as we look to Christ and repent,” Te Awhina says. “I am grateful for the missionaries, for the truths that they taught me—and for what the gospel has done in my life.”

Q. Tell us about your conversion and baptism.
A. I went to a dance one night with my miss. As we were dancing, I saw this girl. Later I danced with her and asked where she came from. She told me she was a Mormon from Salt Lake City, and I thought, “Oh, crumb, what have I got here?”
We talked on a while and she made a profound impression on me—it was just the way she talked. She didn’t talk about religion or she didn’t stuff it down my throat, but I could just tell by her words that she had very high standards, and I liked her. She was a student and was only passing through Belfast. She hadn’t even intended to come to Belfast, but for some reason she did and we met.
She went on to tour Europe, and we corresponded. On the way back she stopped in England, and I went over and saw her there for a week. She had a tremendous effect on me, and I started thinking about the Church. After I came back from England, about a month later, the missionaries called. It had nothing to do with her—it just happened that the missionaries called. At the time it seemed so fantastic, but looking back on it, I’m sure it was all meant to be—you know, the way it happened.
The missionaries must have called six times to find me at home. They kept coming back because my mother told them I might be interested in the Church. One missionary had a profound influence on me, too. He was a tremendous character and I really got to like him. Without the girl I wouldn’t have been interested, and if another missionary had contacted me, he might not have reached me. I joined the Church on December 4, 1969, and I was lucky that my missionaries stuck by me. Some get moved on and sort of lose contact with their investigators, and the people fall by. The missionaries stayed with me until I got my feet on the ground, and then I was lucky to make friends in the Church quite quickly and easily.

There are pioneers in the Church today just as strong and courageous. Recently, I interviewed a married couple three days after their release as full-time missionaries in a large metropolis. “We are converts,” they said. “We joined the Church ten years ago. Even though we just completed a mission, we want to go again! But this time, we would like to volunteer for a more difficult assignment. We want to teach and serve children of God who live in remote areas of the world!”
As I countered with the grim realities of their request, they continued their expression of commitment. “Our three children and their spouses will assist with our expenses. Two of those couples have joined the Church already, and the third is equally supportive. Please send us among humble people who love the Lord and desire to know that His Church has again been restored to the earth.” Needless to say, their petition was gratefully heard, and now they have received their second call to missionary service.

It was just another day of flooding after heavy rains hit southern Louisiana. But when Esther Cox’s two-year-old son, Matthew, fell into the deep, swift current of a nearby ditch, it became the worst day of her life. By the time Esther’s husband, George, found Matthew, he had been in the water for 15 minutes.
The waiting room at the hospital was overflowing with members supporting us. When our bishop came to the hospital and gave Matthew a blessing, all I could remember were the words that Matthew was “going to be fine”—but not in my time, in God’s time. I felt comfort. We prayed and we just knew everything would be OK. No matter what Matthew’s issues would be, we had faith that it would be fine.
They call Matthew’s condition “near drowning with hypoxia,” which means brain damage from lack of oxygen. It was the worst day of my life, but Heavenly Father gave him back to me. He’s still my baby. I’ve been taking care of him for 20 years. We have our ups and downs, but he’s a blessing. He’s great. And Heavenly Father has helped me through it all.
“No matter what Matthew’s issues would be, we had faith that it would be fine. And it has been,” says Esther. “Heavenly Father has helped me through it all.”

Jean A. Stevens, first counselor in the Primary general presidency, told a story about a boy who had missed the last bus of the day and was walking home (page 81). With many miles left to go, he got scared and knelt to pray. Minutes later, Sister Stevens was prompted by the Spirit to stop and help him. Can you think of times when Heavenly Father answered your prayers? How have you helped answer someone else’s prayer?

Elsie Power is one such sister, who writes: “I knew nothing about Zoom or technology and was afraid I might, press the wrong button but our bishop was there at the end of the phone, whenever needed, to walk me through the process. He is always available, and that is reassuring. I am now confident in using Zoom and enjoy meeting with the ward and now know how to contact my family members all over the world. It is a wonderful blessing and a friend who I once thought was my enemy.”

Kristin: “The first time I felt totally alone—isolated by the fact that my husband is not a member of the Church—was the day our first baby was blessed. Shortly before the meeting began, the ward clerk handed me a small card to fill out. Most of the questions were routine, but one made my heart leap to my throat: Had my baby been ‘born in [the] covenant’?

“Suddenly all my faith, activity, and service in the Church seemed very inadequate. I had failed, it seemed—failed myself and my innocent child. I have never felt so empty as when I checked the small box that said ‘no.’”

Ellie walked into the room she shared with her sister, plopped down on the lower bunk, and started sketching on her notepad. She was in the middle of drawing a majestic mountain scene when Addie walked in. “Get off my bed!” Addie said.
Ellie looked up, startled. “Fine!” She jumped off the bed and stormed out of the room. “I wish I had my own room!”
She headed to the bathroom to finish getting ready for school. “What’s going on?” Mom asked.
“Oh, Addie is just mad because I was sitting on her bed,” Ellie said, handing Mom a hairbrush. “It’s so hard sharing a room with her.”
“I know. I used to feel that way with my sister,” Mom said as she started brushing Ellie’s hair. “Addie seems to be feeling a little grumpy lately.”
“I know! I don’t get it!”
“Hmm,” Mom said. “What do you think we can do to help her feel better?”
Ellie thought for a minute while Mom finished putting rubber bands in her hair. Then she smiled. “I have an idea!”
She ran back to her room and opened her desk drawer. There they were—two tiny turtle charms made of glass. Ellie remembered the story Grandma told her when she gave them to her.
Once there were two turtles. One turtle had somehow gotten flipped over. Try as it might, it couldn’t flip itself back over. The other turtle noticed that something was wrong. Using its nose, it flipped the first turtle over so it could stand on its feet again.
Ellie loved that story. She ran to find her sewing kit and pulled out enough string to make two necklaces. She strung one turtle on each strand and knotted the ends. She put one necklace over her head. She put the other one in a tiny box and ran to find her sister.
“Addie!” Ellie said. “I have something for you!”
“What is it?” Addie asked.
“Here. Open it!”
Addie lifted the lid and carefully pulled the turtle necklace out of the box. She looked at her sister. “Thank you, Ellie!”
“You’re welcome,” Ellie said. “Remember the story about the turtles?” Ellie helped Addie put on the necklace. Addie nodded. “Well, I always want to help you get on your feet again whenever you are sad or mad,” Ellie said. “Oh, and I really do like sharing a room with you. I’m sorry about what I said.”
Addie gave her sister a giant hug. “I love you, Ellie. You can sit on my bed any time you want!”
The girls ran to get their backpacks for school. As Ellie climbed into the car next to her sister, she felt warm inside. Sometimes having a sister could be hard. But most of the time it was just plain wonderful.