Gospel Story Finder

A few weeks ago, some members of my family visited the Winter Quarters cemetery at Florence, Nebraska. There they saw Avard T. Fairbanks’s marvelous statue of the pioneer parents looking down at the body of their baby, soon to be left in its grave at the side of the trail. Those pioneers received some of their toughest tests at graveside. Some modern pioneers receive their tests at bedside. One sister wrote:

“My mother cared for her mother until [Grandma] was ninety-eight. My dad now has Alzheimer’s disease, and my mother patiently cares for him. … The amazing part of this is the attitude of my mother. She always thought she would travel after she retired. She has always kept a beautiful home, loving to entertain others. She maintains her home as best she can, but has had to put aside many things that bring her joy. The amazing part is the joy my mother radiates. Her attitude is so beautiful. She finds real joy in the simple things of life. She is the pillar of strength to the whole family as she uplifts us all with her positive attitude.”

In the past I’ve always had very negative feelings about myself. I would always complain to my friends about how ugly I looked that day, how fat I was, how messy my hair was, and so on. One day this began to change.
I had a wonderful friend named Holly. She was a great listener and just fun to be around. She gave me a note after school one day, and on the envelope it said, “Don’t open until you get home!” Of course, my curiosity grew, and I wanted to open it very badly. But I decided to wait until I got home so that I could really read it.
I wondered what this letter contained. I thought of the worst things she could have written. I got home and opened the letter. It said that I was a good person and that I should always remember I am someone special. She had written out a list of all the good things she saw in me. I read this letter and wondered how I had let these qualities go unnoticed. By giving me that list in her letter, Holly helped me develop a better opinion of myself. She helped me remember that I am a child of God and that he loves me.
I think Satan would like us to believe that we are not worthwhile. When we don’t value ourselves, we end up doing things we will later regret.
The Lord loves us and always will. I now know that he doesn’t just look at our weaknesses. He also sees our strengths. I know, thanks to a letter from Holly, that I am someone special and that Heavenly Father loves me.

Most of her neighbors belong to other churches, but that doesn’t stop Julianne from being their friend. She does all she can to make certain that she doesn’t have conflicts with her neighbors, like some of the early Saints did. One of her best friends is a sixty-year-old widow named Mrs. Troyer. Julianne loves to work in the garden or go for walks with her. They’ve been great friends for two or three years. “We talk about all kinds of stuff on our walks. She’s one of the nicest people I know,” said Julianne.

Living in Pennsylvania puts Andrew’s family close to many of the Church history sites. A few years ago, the family visited the Palmyra New York Temple. While there, the family also visited the Sacred Grove. Andrew says, “I remember walking around and looking at the trees. I wondered where Joseph was praying when he saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.” His family has also visited the Nauvoo area where he saw Carthage Jail and learned about how the Prophet Joseph was martyred. “It was sad,” he says softly.

I went to summer camp for six weeks, and at first I was really bored. But then I decided to read my scriptures. When my brother came to camp, he brought up the 1997 April New Era. I borrowed it from him and read every article. I have never really sat down and enjoyed a magazine so much. It helped strengthen my testimony. I especially liked “Clean Again.” It made me realize what I have to work on. Keep up the good work.
Joseph BreeCrescent City, California

When he was a teenager, the Saints in Boise, Idaho, met with Church officials to talk about building a new tabernacle. The Boise members were asked to donate money to build the tabernacle, and Howard was the first to raise his hand. He pledged twenty-five dollars—a lot of money for a teenager in those days—as his offering. “I worked and saved until I was able to pay my commitment in full,” he said.

President Benson’s testimony made a deep and lasting impression on a minister of that church, Father Alexander. A few years later, this minister told a Finnish member of our church, Sister Irma Airto, that of all the notable people who visited the Baptist church and signed the guest register, Ezra Taft Benson was the greatest. President Benson was visiting Russia as a high official in the United States government, but Father Alexander recognized him as a great spiritual leader. Father Alexander told Sister Airto, “When you meet Mr. Benson, tell him … that we know he is a man of God and I pray for him.” Sister Airto never expected to meet President Benson in person to convey this message. However, when he visited Finland and created the Helsinki Finland Stake in October 1977, she was able to deliver the message, strengthening her testimony that the Lord guides our affairs.

Backstage at the Chicago Heights Stake roadshows, the halls hummed with oversized insects and giant barnyard animals. Bananas, grapes, and apples giggled and whispered, waiting to perform their well-rehearsed numbers. On stage, lively skits entertained the audience with clever scripts, rousing music and dance, and colorful sets and props. One unit, the Hyde Park Branch, had no special costumes, no dance numbers, and only one modestly painted screen. Yet, this humble production, where the players sat on folding chairs pulled in from adjoining rooms, thrilled the souls of those who saw it.
Until recent years, the Hyde Park Branch in Chicago served primarily the Latter-day Saint students and faculty members at the University of Chicago. Not long ago, however, successful missionary efforts in Chicago’s predominantly black South Side have brought new black families into branch membership.
From a brainstorming session with the teenagers and the branch roadshow specialist, Shirley Munson, came the idea to tell a simple story about a black family’s conversion to the gospel. Greg Porter, 15, was essentially responsible for the script called “A New Day Dawns on Chicago’s South Side.” It was in keeping with the stake theme, “Catch the Sunshine.” With the inclusion of some simple songs, a touch of editing to the script, and several rousing rehearsals, the cast was ready for opening and, as is the nature of roadshows, closing night.
The story was that of a fictional black family, the Hendersons. The parents and their lively teenagers are a righteous family searching to know more of God’s truth. Two missionaries, “Elder Elder and Elder Younger,” come to their home. The Hendersons welcome the missionaries warmly, receive their message, and agree to come to church. The concluding scene shows the family walking to the front of the stage with many other branch members coming from the wings of the stage behind them, welcoming them and including them in the fellowship of the branch.
Eyes glistened in both the audience and the cast as the curtain closed. Everyone sensed, even amidst the laughter and liveliness of stake roadshows, that a new day has dawned.

Miriam Vasquez, who facilitated the self-reliance course on personal finances attended by Gabriela Yoshida, agrees. When her husband was unable to attend her class, she brought the class and its principles home to him and their children.

“Before the class, my husband and I had different ideas about how to manage money,” she says. But once he grasped the principles she shared at home, they harmonized their financial goals as a couple and family.

“We asked the Lord for inspiration so that each week we could focus on what the program was asking us to do and so we could reach our goals,” Sister Vasquez says. “Our differences regarding how to manage money disappeared, and we grew spiritually because we were able to rid ourselves of some financial stress in our home.”

One of the principles that blesses all who take a self-reliance course is learning the importance of saving money and spending it wisely.

“I’ve been married 25 years, and I always thought I was supposed to pay my tithing, then my mortgage, and then my other expenses. If I had any money left over, I would save,” says Sister Vasquez. “When I facilitated the class, I realized that first you pay your tithing, then you save some, and then you pay for everything else. In less than a year, my husband and I were able to save for a dream vacation.”

I knew the Joseph Smith story was true the first time I heard it. I was 15 then and living with my aunt’s family in Montélimar, France. Three of the children in the family were already members of the Church. The youngest daughter, my cousin, was not.
She and I went to the closest branch at Valence. There the missionaries told us the story of the young latter-day prophet, and it touched me profoundly. I had heard my cousin’s family discuss the restoration of the gospel at home before, but as I heard it in detail for the first time from these young men, it reached my soul.
They told me of the promise in Moroni 10:4–5 [Moro. 10:4–5] in the Book of Mormon and said that I could know the truthfulness of what was written there if I would ask God sincerely. They also said I could know if their message was true. That same evening, brimming over with a desire to know, I knelt and prayed. I was elated by the warm and wonderful feeling that flooded my soul. I knew this was a response from the Lord and that the gospel had indeed been restored by Jesus Christ, as the missionaries said.
My cousins had shown me a good example of love and concern for each other. I hadn’t been much interested in their church’s doctrine, but I had admired their ideals for family life. Now, however, I wanted to know more about the Church. I went with my cousins to a youth conference in Vaumarcus, Switzerland, and made many LDS friends there. During the testimony meeting, I stood and told them about my experience when I had prayed about Moroni’s promise.
My understanding grew rapidly, but soon my father intervened. He didn’t like the idea of me investigating a “new” church. My parents were separated, and no one knew where my mother was, but I felt obligated to honor my father’s wishes, at least until I was no longer a minor. My contact with the Saints as a group dropped off somewhat, but I knew in my heart that someday I would be baptized.
My oldest cousin went into the army, and then he left on a mission. During the two years he was gone, I kept thinking about the feelings I had felt. I always had a testimony of Joseph Smith, right from the start. His story seemed so logical, and the confirmation of the Spirit came so quickly that I couldn’t ignore it. When my cousin returned from his mission, I met him in Montélimar, and we rode together back to Antibes (near Nice), which is my hometown. All the way there we talked about the Church, and I accepted many new ideas.
The Lord also had something else in mind to help me. I was in agricultural school in Lyons at the time, and when I returned to my studies, I arranged to do some field study for three months in Aix-en-Provence. There, with my cousin, I heard all of the missionary discussions thoroughly, and the small testimony inside me became a big one. I was baptized on July 26, 1975, and I still feel as strongly today as I did then that Joseph Smith was and is a prophet of God.
I am thankful that I was able to see the gospel in action in my aunt’s home. Their example combined with the witness of the Spirit to let me know that the Lord has built a program for families that I want to follow.
Editor’s note: Since this story was written, José has served honorably in the France Paris Mission.

OK, we’re only down one point with seven seconds left. Tanya, I want you to pass to Joyce and set a screen for Cathlyn on the left wing. Cathlyn, all you have to do is lose your man, catch the pass from Joyce, and bury the shot.
You did it, Cathlyn! We won!
Great game, Champ. That last play was awesome!
I just did what the coach told me, Dad.
Did he come out on the floor and make you do it?
Of course not!
Are you glad you chose to follow his plan anyway?
I guess so. Hey, this isn’t just about basketball, is it?
It isn’t?
Do they teach this stuff in dad school, or are you just a natural?

During my service as mission president, I met many young people who also demonstrated this kind of pliability. I first met Olivier Pecqueux on a visit to New Caledonia. He was 24 years old and in the military service. He was not active in the Church, pursuing instead a life of worldliness. But the Lord had other plans for him. At his request we met and discussed his patriarchal blessing. He decided to humble himself, repent, and let the Lord mold his life. Soon he was called on a full-time mission, and he became one of my most capable elders. He is now attending college and was recently married in the Tahiti temple.

Will and Anna are best friends. At recess, they play tag. Anna pushes Will’s wheelchair. They chase the other kids. Will reaches his hand out to tag them. Recess is lots of fun!
Sometimes it takes Will a long time to say his words. But Anna listens. She wants to hear what Will says.
Will listens to Anna’s silly jokes.
“What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?” Anna asks.
Will smiles and shakes his head.
“Arrr!” Anna says.
Will laughs. He makes a pirate hook with his finger.
“What music are balloons scared of?” Anna asks.
“What?” says Will.
“Pop music!”
Anna and Will laugh and laugh.
At lunch, Anna and Will eat together. Will has a helper. She helps him eat his lunch. Anna likes to talk with her too. Will’s favorite food is peanut butter. Anna’s favorite food is apples. The best food is peanut butter and apples together!
Sometimes Will and Anna play after school. They like to build with blocks. Will builds tall towers. Anna builds castles. Together they build lots of fun things!
Will has a hard time stacking the blocks. But he keeps trying. Anna finds red blocks for him. Red is Will’s favorite color.
Sometimes Will’s arms move funny. But it’s OK. Anna doesn’t mind. Sometimes she knocks a tower over. Whoops! But Will doesn’t mind.
Will and Anna are best friends. They help each other. Will likes to make Anna smile. Anna likes to make Will smile. They are happy to be friends.
Will is a child of God, and Anna is a child of God. God loves them. He is happy they are friends too.

As a 12-year-old boy, I had the privilege to serve as the secretary of my deacons quorum. I recall with joy the many assignments we members of that quorum had the opportunity to fill. Passing the sacred sacrament, collecting the monthly fast offerings, and looking after one another come readily to mind. The most frightening one, however, happened at the leadership session of our ward conference. The member of our stake presidency presiding was William F. Perschon. He called on a number of the ward officers to speak. Then, without the slightest warning, President Perschon stood and said, “We will now hear from Thomas S. Monson, secretary of the deacons quorum, to give us an accounting of his service and bear his testimony.” I don’t recall a thing I said, but I have never forgotten the experience.

Walking home from school is usually not very exciting. Sometimes I think about my math homework, sometimes I think about what we did in gym class, and sometimes I walk without thinking about much at all.
But this day was different. My mind was racing. Ahead of me I could see two of the guys I sometimes played with—Josh and Marcus—making snowballs and pointing at me.
“Hey, David, come here!” Josh yelled, laughing. “We want to show you something.”
Marcus laughed too.
Josh and Marcus were both a year older than me, and they could throw hard. I knew it was only a matter of time before they would start hurling snowballs my way. Even though they were usually nice to me, I thought maybe they had even packed ice into the snowballs.
I started to think of ways I could stop their attack.
Run across the street to avoid them? No, they would make fun of me and call me names.
Run as fast as I could past them? No, they were faster than me and would catch up to me in no time.
Mount a snowball attack of my own? Not a good idea, considering there were two of them and only one of me. They also had the advantage of being at the top of the hill, and I had no place where I could take cover at the bottom.
I decided to do the only thing that made sense—walk calmly past them and wait for the snowballs to fly.
As I neared the hill, a thought came to my mind. I remembered Samuel the Lamanite, who preached the gospel while standing on a wall. When the people didn’t like what he was saying, they threw rocks and shot arrows at him.
I knew the Lord protected Samuel from the rocks and arrows. Perhaps He could make the snowballs miss me.
I said a prayer in my mind, asking Heavenly Father that the snowballs would not hit me. I knew I needed to be brave and not doubt—just like Samuel. As I reached the hill, I felt confident that I wouldn’t get hurt.
Just as I expected, the snowballs began to fly. A couple of snowballs whizzed past my head so close that I could feel the breeze as they zoomed by. Some of the snowballs flew past my arms, and a few landed right at my feet, but none of them hit me. Not one!
The boys kept throwing until I was out of range, but I knew I was safe. The rest of my walk home was not very exciting—and I couldn’t have been happier about it. I had been protected like Samuel the Lamanite. I knew that praying and exercising faith in the Lord had blessed me.

It’s a bit quieter in the early mornings at the Dunlop household in Capalaba, Australia, these days. Oldest brother, Craig, is serving his mission in the Australia Perth Mission.

“He would come out of his bedroom about 5:30 and, bang, he would shut the door. He would bang down the hall,” said his mother, Kathryn. “We miss that, the big bang of the morning.”

The other seven Dunlop children feel there’s a big hole now that Craig is away from home. Nathan, 14, said, “Craig used to mug me and wrestle me to the floor.”

“He would keep us in line and tell us what we should be doing. Have we practiced our sport? Have we done our homework? Have we read our scriptures? Now he does it long distance,” said Melissa, 17.

This is love at home?

Yes, you feel it when each child grins, as they try to tell their favorite story about their brother.

Maybe the Dunlops learned to love each other from the example of their parents, particularly their father, Robert. Right while they’re talking about their family, Dad arrives home after having been away from home all week because of his work. Everyone is so glad to see him.

Leanne explains, “We miss him. When he gets home, we all bolt for the car when he drives up.”

Robert Dunlop tells of a sad experience in his past. “The last time I saw my dad was when I was going to boarding school. He was ill, and he wanted me to give him a kiss good-bye at the station. I was embarrassed and didn’t give him a kiss in front of all the other kids going away to school. It was the last time I ever saw him. I keep telling my own children of that.”

“So we give him kisses all the time,” said Leanne quickly.

But how does a parent let his children know he loves them when things don’t always go smoothly? “After we have an argument, Dad always says, ‘But I still love you,’” Melissa explains. “He always comes back and gives you a hug—always. Even if I am so angry that I think I don’t like him any more, then he comes back with that. He tells us all the time that he loves us.”

And the Dunlops make happy family memories. One of their favorite things to do together is bike riding—their Maleny bike ride. Sarah explains, “Mom and Dad take the older kids right to the top of the hill. Mom will usually drive down with the babies in the car, and the rest of us coast all the way down the mountain. We love that.”

Then the family all starts talking at once about who had bumped into whom and the funny things that happened, like when Sarah ran over a snake and they didn’t tell her because she would freak out.

Love at home? For the Dunlops it is.

The lesson I learned from this experience became even more important many years later when I had five teenage children of my own. Like many families, we occasionally found our family relationships a little strained or uneven. On one such occasion I felt like the key to family harmony was for my children to see things my way and act in ways I thought were right. They were not doing anything bad, I just felt they should change their attitudes to conform more closely to mine. To me, that seemed like the answer, but as I pondered the solution, the Lord spoke to me through my feelings. In my heart and mind came the message, “It is better to be one than to be right.”
I wasn’t quite sure what that meant. But I heard and felt it. After a lot of thought and prayer, I began to understand that it was more important for our family to be one than it was for me to be right. That realization pierced me to the core, and I could see that even if I were right about how things ought to be done, that knowledge alone would not bless my family. I remembered that the Lord had said, “Be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine” (D&C 38:27). I realized that the only way to gain what we all really wanted was for us to be one and that if I insisted on holding to what I perceived as the moral high ground, we would not likely resolve our differences.
Most importantly, the message implied that I shouldn’t be expecting my children to change: I needed to change. Suddenly I could see that if I would change and do the things that would make us one as a family, everything would work out. The Lord truly helped me, and almost overnight I began to change. I focused on loving my children without conditions, without expecting them to change. I simply wanted to love them—and for them to love me.
That was not a dramatic change, but it was an important change of heart and mind. As my children became aware of the transformation taking place in their father, it was surprising how quickly we became one again. The strains we were experiencing just melted away. Harmony returned. Once again our home became a place of love.
Since those long-ago days my children have all married and now have their own families, and as parents my wife and I take such delight in them. We are all such good friends—best friends. My prayers were answered. Not the prayer to change my children, which is what I prayed for at first, but for the change that came over me as a result of my prayers. The Lord answered my prayers by helping me change.

I used to not like going to church because I felt I had no friends there. At school, I had friends I could laugh with. But I felt that the young women at church were different from me or might not like my personality. I started pretending to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to attend church.
Then the COVID-19 pandemic came, and we went through a time of losing things. I live with my mom and grandma. My mom lost her job, and we thought we would have to give up our home. I started looking for a cheaper place to live, but I didn’t find any. Instead, I found the Savior.
The Church started broadcasting church services online, and my mother would make me wake up and watch, which helped me to “fake it till I made it.” I felt like the Savior was reaching out to me, even if I wasn’t reaching out to Him. And when I started to reach out to Him, He made His hand more reachable. Losing things helped me find the Savior.
I felt like the Savior was reaching out to me, even if I wasn’t reaching out to Him.
Our bishop gave me a calling, and the other young women became my friends because I opened myself to them. Since I’d felt like I didn’t have friends, I realized others might experience this too. It made me think I should make the first move and reach out.
In the end, the Lord helped my mother find a new job. Thankfully, we still live in our home, and the Savior made it a holier place. I still laugh with my friends at school too. But nothing beats the joy the Savior offers.

In contrast, as I close, consider unselfish Melissa Howes, whose comparatively young father died of cancer several months ago. Just before, Melissa, who was then nine, was voice in family prayer, pleading, “Heavenly Father, bless my daddy, and if you need him more than us, you can have him. We want him, but Thy will be done. And please help us not to be mad at you” (letter from Christie Howes, 25 Feb. 1998).
What spiritual submissiveness for one so young! What an unselfish understanding of the plan of salvation! May unselfish submissiveness be our path too, in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen!

Jeremy John was a wiggler. When he sat on the front row in Primary, he wiggled. When it was singing time, he wiggled. Even when he listened to his Sunbeam teacher, Sister Cardon, give a lesson, he wiggled.
“Jeremy John,” his teacher would say, “please stop wiggling.”
He tried to sit still. He really did. But then his legs would start swinging back and forth, back and forth. And before he knew it, he was wiggling again.
Then one Sunday, Sister Cardon said, “Boys and girls, I have a special Book of Mormon story to tell you.”
Jeremy John liked stories. He scooted his chair a little closer to his teacher.
“This story is about Jesus Christ visiting the Nephites,” she said.
Jeremy John really loved stories about Jesus, so he scooted his chair even closer.
“Jesus Christ taught the Nephites many wonderful things,” Sister Cardon said. “The people loved to listen to Him. And they loved to be near Him.”
She held up a picture of the Savior blessing the children. “He had all the children come to Him,” she said. “He took them one by one, and He prayed for them and blessed them.” Jeremy John could see that his teacher’s eyes were shiny with tears as she said, “Jesus Christ loves every child. He loves you.”
Jeremy John felt cozy and warm inside just like he felt when he snuggled up in his fuzzy green blanket. How he wished he could have been there with Jesus!
He looked at the picture again. There, sitting beside Jesus, was a little boy about the same age as Jeremy John. The boy was sitting very, very still, looking up at Jesus.
I could do that, Jeremy John thought. I could sit still if I were sitting by Jesus. All of a sudden, he knew how to stop being a wiggler.
Now whenever he sits in Primary, he imagines that Jesus is sitting right beside him. And Jeremy John hardly wiggles at all.