Gospel Story Finder

He smiled as he reminded his daughter of one of her favorite rides at the amusement park when she was younger. “Remember how much time you used to spend on that large spinning turntable in the fun house? You and all the other children would scramble toward the center and try to hold your places as the huge wheel spun.”
“Oh, yes,” the daughter replied. “Once that wheel started spinning, the kids closest to the edge went sliding off just like that cotton ball, and the ones who managed to hold their position near the center stayed on.”
Her eyes sparkled as she remembered how she would slip and slide on the big wheel. “I tried my best to work my way from the edge toward the center, but it was a real struggle. I had to crawl and apply great traction with my hands to pull myself up toward the center. And if that weren’t hard enough, I always had to be on guard for those who didn’t make it, because they usually grabbed someone else as they spun off and tried to take them with them.”

At the end-of-the-year basketball banquet, Frankie, Mark, and Jason, seized another opportunity to share their religion. They presented their coach with a gift, a Book of Mormon.
“We hope you’ll hold on to this book like you would hold on to a basketball,” read the inscription from the three boys.
The coach did more than that. Not only did he hold on to the book; he read it and believed it. Not long after he received his gift, he and his family were baptized.

Elder Michael A. Dunn’s parents divorced when he was a small child, but as his mother raised him, she instilled in him strong faith and values. After attending a private Episcopal school in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, he transferred to a public high school, where he met members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As his new friends and their parents welcomed him with open arms, Michael desired to learn about the Church. Eventually he decided to meet with the missionaries. Their teachings about the Godhead and Joseph Smith’s First Vision “landed in me with real power,” he said.
Through prayer he knew the gospel was true and was baptized during his senior year of high school. Since then, Elder Dunn has been “nurtured by a string of incredible leaders.”

We’ve come a long way since then. Shortly after my mom’s reactivation, we focused on converting my father. I know that missionaries in the field work in pairs, but in our home we formed a threesome: Mom, my brother Stephen, and myself. Dad didn’t have a chance! We used to talk about the children’s hymn we were going to sing in the car, and we kept reminding each other to bless our food and hold family prayer and set a good example. My dad did join the Church and is very active now. In March 1987, we were sealed as a family in the Arizona Temple in one of the greatest events of our lives. We are working hard on becoming an eternal family.

Listen to a letter received by a bishop from one in such a circumstance. There had been a beautiful interview in which the young lady poured out her heart to the bishop. He had given her the assurance that all was not lost and that there is forgiveness for sin, providing there is complete repentance. After a few days she wrote:
“Somehow you don’t realize how bad it has been until the weight begins to be lifted. I know it takes time to make up for wrong done, and maybe the best way I can express my thanks to you and my Father in heaven is to become the person you think I am and the person God knows I can become. In kind of a funny way, I’m scared inside—not scared exactly, just a feeling of how important what we do in this life is. Life has always had so much to offer me, like being able to see and touch and taste and enjoy; like seeing a sunset, hearing a baby’s laugh, watching two children playing, or seeing someone overcome an obstacle in his life. But there is always the baby’s cry, the children arguing, and someone not quite making it. I don’t know where I got this thought, but it seems to be just right.
“‘I ask no dream, no prophet’s ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay,
No angel visitant—no opening skies,
But take the dimness of my soul away.’”
(Author unknown)

I began to see the good in people and be optimistic. When I made this attitude change, people began to feel uplifted around me. This made them want to associate with me more often.

A true story from the USA.
Alex stomped down the stairs and let out a loud sigh.
Mom looked up from her book. “What’s wrong?”
“Nobody will share with me!” Alex said. “I hate being a middle kid.” Alex’s brothers always got what they wanted. It just wasn’t fair.
“I’m sure if you asked nicely, your brothers would share with you,” Mom said.
Alex frowned. “I did ask nicely!”
“How about you try setting a timer? That way each of you gets the same amount of time to play.”
“I did set a timer!” Alex said. “But maybe I’ll set two timers to be extra sure.” He grabbed the extra timer from the kitchen counter and marched up the stairs. His younger brother, David, was playing a game on the TV.
“Mom says you have to share,” Alex said. He set the timer for five minutes. “When this goes off, it’s my turn.”
The next day, when Alex and his older brother, Jake, both wanted to play a game, they set a timer for exactly 30 minutes each. When David and Jake were both playing with blocks, they counted out exactly the same number for each person. And when David and Alex both wanted the last chocolate chip cookie, they carefully split it exactly in half. Things were finally starting to feel fair.
But then came dinner …
That night, they were having spaghetti and meatballs! Jake started piling pasta on his plate before Alex could even grab the spoon.
“Hey, no fair,” Alex said. “I’m hungry too!”
Dad put a hand on his shoulder. “Alex, there’s plenty of food for everyone. Look, I’ll get you the same amount that Jake has.” Dad put some pasta on Alex’s plate.
After they blessed the food, everyone started eating. When Alex had finished his food, he was still hungry. He peeked into the pot in the middle of the table. There was one last meatball on top of the pile of pasta. He spooned it onto his plate.
“No fair!” David said. “That’s the last one.”
Jake pointed at the meatball with his fork. “I want some too. Let’s split it.”
“Split it?” Alex said. “For three of us? But it’s so small.”
Jake and David nodded. “It would be fair.”
Jake took Alex’s plate and began carefully dividing the meatball into three parts. Alex watched as the meatball got smaller and smaller.
Mom laughed. “Those are pretty small pieces!”
Dad laughed too. “It doesn’t always have to be exactly fair,” he said. “Maybe we could try to be better at sharing our things instead of splitting everything up.”
Alex looked down at the small pieces of meatball. It was a little silly. Did he actually care that much about a meatball? Maybe he did need to learn to share more.
The next day, when Jake and Alex both wanted to play with blocks, they decided to build something together. When David and Jake were outside, Alex let them take turns riding his bike. And when everyone wanted to play a game on the TV, Alex didn’t set any timers. Sharing and being kind actually felt better than being perfectly fair.
That night, when Jake and Alex both wanted the last roll at dinner, Alex told Jake he could have the whole thing.
“Thanks!” Jake winked. “Are you sure you don’t want to split it in three?”
David and Alex laughed. “Definitely not!”

The four-wheel-drive pickup bumped carefully along the twisted mountain road leading into Chulac, a plantation built among the mountains of the Central Highlands in Guatemala. Rain suddenly spilled from the dark clouds and lashed the windshield as the truck arrived at the central house of the 23,000-acre plantation.
At the wheel was Cordell Andersen, president of the Guatemala Cobàn District. Seated next to him were two missionaries to the Kekchi Indians, Elder Bringhurst of California and Elder Rios-Lazo of Costa Rica. Riding under the canopy were President Andersen’s oldest daughter, Julie, 17, and her two Provo (Utah) High School friends, Leslie Ann Knight and Ann Gardner. The fourth occupant was Gustavo Ramirez, a 73-year-old convert to the Church. Brother Gustavo was an itinerant dentist.
The full-time and member missionaries had come because the cooperative manager, who lived five hours away in San Cristobal, had met the missionaries and become interested in their message about the book of his ancestors and the religion of his forefathers.
The missionaries in San Cristobal then met with the plantation’s board of directors, each of whom purchased a copy of the Book of Mormon, and invited the missionaries to visit the plantation. President Andersen arranged to take a set of missionaries on an overnight visit to Chulac.
It was at the end of a workday on Friday when they finally pulled into the large courtyard of the central house and sought shelter from the drenching rain. Several workers, holding torn pieces of plastic over their heads, raced across the courtyard to meet the visitors. They took President Andersen and the two missionaries to the plantation office where arrangements were made for meals and lodging.
Meanwhile Brother Gustavo, who’d been let off under an overhang by the plantation store, was telling a number of workers that he would be willing to pull any infected teeth. He also gave an introduction to the Book of Mormon and said there would be a meeting after dark for those interested.
By the time arrangements for lodging were made, the rain had let up. Two workers brought over a box and set it on edge for Brother Gustavo. The itinerant dentist pulled out his bag and arranged his tools along the hood of the truck as his first patient took a seat on the box. He took out a bottle of novocaine and filled a syringe.
After the tooth had been pulled, the visitors unloaded a portable generator and a slide projector. They carried the equipment and an extension cord with a light bulb into the warehouse where the meeting was to be held. Later, along with President Andersen, they visited several families nearby.
President Andersen explained that wages at the cooperative averaged $1.25 a day, with a two-week bonus at Christmas. From surplus profits the workers had purchased a marimba and several other musical instruments the previous year.
Many of the Indians lived in improved dwellings. Although these homes had no floors, they were larger than the unimproved dwelling and were usually sheeted with galvanized roofing rather than thatched.
“Under the cooperative rules no one who drinks can be a member,” President Andersen explained. “This was their own decision.”
That night 175 people assembled for the meeting. One of the cooperative leaders, who was also a lay leader in his own church, apologized for the lack of a crowd. “It is too bad you can’t stay tomorrow night,” he said. “There would be a much larger crowd.”
President Andersen started the generator. By the light of the single light bulb Julie, Leslie, Ann, and the other visitors sang an opening song.
Brother Gustavo followed the song with a prayer in the Indian dialect, and President Andersen, speaking in Spanish, explained the origin of the Book of Mormon. Brother Gustavo translated. Elder Bringhurst then talked in Kekchi to the 175 people. After he concluded, he and Elder Rios-Lazo sang “I Am a Child of God” in Kekchi.
When the meeting was concluded, few got up to go. Instead, they gathered into small groups. Those who spoke only Kekchi talked with Elder Bringhurst and Brother Ramirez. Those who understood Spanish asked Elder Rios-Lazo and President Andersen several questions.
The district president then explained that although they had to leave in the morning, Brother Gustavo was remaining for the rest of the day to extract teeth and to answer gospel questions. This member-missionary had only a one quetzal note (equivalent to $1) in his pocket from pulling the tooth earlier, but he was not worried about getting back home.
“Perhaps I’ll pull enough infected teeth to get a bus ticket and to buy some food,” he said with the confidence of the recently converted.
After breakfast the next morning, the visitors said good-bye and started home. As they drove along ridges and cliffs, past cattle, scattered Indian homes, and a mine, President Andersen explained that the secret in the Central Highlands, as in the rest of the world, is member-missionary work.
“It’s people like Brother Gustavo who really help the work go forth. There just aren’t enough full-time missionaries to go around,” he said, “especially here where the people live in a scattered condition.”
During the following weeks and months the missionaries and President Andersen continued visiting the people at the Chulac Plantation, telling them more about the book of their ancestors. This missionary work bore fruit when one Saturday 20 people entered the waters of baptism. Among them were seven couples, the ten-year-old daughter of one of the couples, and five teenage boys. One hundred and fifteen of their neighbors were on hand to witness the sacred event.
The next day the converts and 12 other adults bore testimony in their native Kekchi dialect to the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and the benefits of living gospel principles.
President Andersen later wrote, “Add to the adults their children who have been blessed and it comes to 37 new members of the Church.”
Less than a year after the people of Chulac first heard the gospel, serious plans were being made to organize a branch in that remote area of the Central Highlands of Guatemala.
For those people, the missionary adventure has just begun.

M. Russell Ballard
An eight-year-old boy invites his friend and his friend’s family to a ward open house in Buenos Aires.

Twelve-year-old Tim, ten-year-old Jake, and eight-year-old Jill closed their books for the day.
“Awesome history lesson, Mom,” Jake said.
“Totally!” Jill said. Mom made history so fun. It was Jill’s favorite subject.
“Thanks, kids,” Mom said as she gathered up her teaching supplies. “You’re all doing great. Your teachers next year are going to be so impressed with you, I just know it.”
Jill’s stomach did a little somersault. With the new baby coming, Mom had decided she would be too busy to teach homeschool next year.
“I’ll miss having you as my teacher,” Jill said.
Mom put a hand on Jill’s shoulder. “I’ll miss being your teacher too, sweetheart. But I’m still your mom.” She grinned. “And a mom is always a teacher!”
As Jill got ready for bed that night, she thought about what Mom had said. A mom is always a teacher.
Jill had never really thought much about it before. Mom had worked so hard. Right then and there Jill decided to somehow give Mom a gigantic “Thank you!” for being her teacher. It would have to be something special. But how should she do it? She prayed for help.
Several days later Jill still hadn’t thought of the perfect way to show thanks for Mom. She thanked her out loud all the time. But she wanted to do something more.
“You kids have done so well,” Mom said. “You’re definitely ready to graduate from homeschool.”
Jill’s hand froze in place, her pencil hovering above her paper. A fabulous idea popped into her head. Graduate! They could throw Mom a surprise graduation party! Mom would love it. It was the perfect way to say thank you.
Jill told Tim and Jake her plan. They soon began working to throw a great surprise party.
Jill had a hard time focusing on math the next day. She kept picturing Mom’s face when they surprised her.
Finally it was time to put their books away. When Mom turned around to wipe the chalkboard, Jill gave a thumbs-up to Tim and Jake to show that it was time. As quietly as possible they pulled out the secret party supplies they had hidden under their desks.
“Surprise!” they all yelled as Mom turned around. Jill ran over and gave Mom a rolled-up paper that she’d tied carefully with a ribbon. She’d worked hard on that homemade diploma.
“What’s all this?” Mom asked with a laugh. Tim put a graduation hat made of black construction paper on her head.
“It’s a graduation party!” said Jake. “From all of us.”
Jill gave Mom a big hug. “We wanted to thank you for being such a great teacher.”
“Happy graduation!” Jill and her brothers all shouted. Tim pulled out a party noisemaker and blew it loudly. “Come into the kitchen!” he said. “It’s time to get this party started.”
Mom laughed again and adjusted the graduation hat on her head. Then she followed Tim and Jake into the kitchen for the treats they’d planned.
Jill felt good inside. They had made Mom happy.
Next school year was going to be great, Jill decided. And if she ever had homework questions, she knew just who to ask for help. With a huge smile, Jill ran into the kitchen to join the party.

Before I married, I worked as a teacher. One day, having no class scheduled for an hour, I closed my classroom door and started to read the Book of Mormon. Although I consider myself generally a happy person who tries to see the good side of situations, on that particular occasion I felt very depressed; I was tired of some of my struggles in life. I had never thought of suicide and did not consider it then, but I remember thinking, It might be nice to pass through the veil. If the Lord called me now into his presence, maybe things could be better.
Then I read the words in Alma 5:15: “Do you look forward with an eye of faith … to stand before God to be judged according to the deeds which have been done in the mortal body?” As I continued reading, each line penetrated my mind and my heart, especially part of verse 27: “Could ye say, if ye were called to die at this time, within yourselves, that ye have been sufficiently humble? That your garments have been cleansed and made white through the blood of Christ?” [Alma 5:27]
Immediately I was ashamed of my childish thought that my mission on this earth might already have been fulfilled. Since that occasion, I have received abundant blessings in this life, and I now know that I still have a lot to learn here.

Illustration by Dan Burr
Two weeks before my junior year of high school, my entire life was going to be uprooted. My family had always lived in North Carolina, USA, but had recently decided that my dad should take a job on the other side of the country, in Utah. I prayed about this decision, and I knew that this was going to be the best thing for my family, but I was still nervous.
Because of the timing of the move and the school schedule in my new town, I had to move one week before the rest of my family left North Carolina, and I would be starting school a week late. I was terrified. I was going to a brand new high school, I was starting after everyone else, and I had no friends.
On my first day at school, I was incredibly nervous and felt like no one wanted to talk to me. While I was waiting for all the other students to find their seats in French class so that I could take an empty one, a young woman invited me to sit next to her and began asking me questions about myself—why I was starting school a week late and where I was from. She helped me through the class, and then she asked me if I had anyone to sit with at lunch. I timidly replied that I didn’t, and she asked if I would sit with her and her friends. I gladly accepted.
Later that day, she invited me to a pool party that one of the school clubs was hosting and then to the football game. Both were very enjoyable, and I felt like I’d really made a friend. That night, I thanked my Father in Heaven for all the blessings I was receiving. I didn’t really know this young woman all that well, but I felt the love of Christ through her actions.
One day after school, my new friend asked me if I would be interested in coming with her and another friend to the temple to do baptisms for the dead before school the next day. I was excited about the invitation and said that I would go.
The next morning, I dressed in my Sunday best and went to the temple. After coming out of the temple, we took some time to walk around the grounds. I still wasn’t exactly sure how my new life in Utah would turn out, but as I looked over the valley, I knew that this is where my Father in Heaven wanted me to be.

“I’m the oldest child in our family. I have a sister who is two years younger and a brother who is eight years younger than I am. Mother was on the General Board of the YWMIA for thirty-four years. They met in board meeting every Wednesday, and Mother would leave dinner for us. She always took good care of us, even though she couldn’t be with us. When she traveled, she sent us postcards. We always knew that she loved us, and we always knew that we, too, could serve in the Church and still be good parents because she had done it.

I wanted to do missionary work so I gave my schoolteacher a special Christmas DVD with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Her whole family loved it. They watched it on Christmas Day. She wrote me a lovely thank-you letter. I felt very happy.

Let me read to you from a letter I received from a man ashamed to sign his name. He writes:
“I am a 35-year-old male and am a convert to the Church of more than ten years. For most of my adult life I have been addicted to pornography. I am ashamed to admit this. My addiction is as real as that of an alcoholic or a drug addict.
“I was first introduced to this material as a child. I was molested by an older male cousin, and pornography was used to attract my interest. I am convinced that this exposure at an early age to sex and pornography is at the root of my addiction today. I think it is ironic that those who support the business of pornography say that it is a matter of freedom of expression. I have no freedom. I have lost my free agency because I have been unable to overcome this. It is a trap for me, and I can’t seem to get out of it. Please, please, please, plead with the brethren of the Church to not only avoid but eliminate the sources of pornographic material in their lives. …
“Finally, President Hinckley, please pray for me and others in the Church who may be like me to have the courage and strength to overcome this terrible affliction.”

I went to a bookstore with my mom, and she said I could pick out one book for myself. I found a book I liked in the kids’ section. My mom read the back of the book and decided that I could get it. When we got home, I couldn’t wait to start reading my new book. It was so good I couldn’t stop reading it. I was close to the middle when something unexpected happened. There was a bad word! I had a feeling I should tell my mom, but I didn’t think it was a big deal. So I kept reading. When I was on the next page, the feeling came to me again. This time it was stronger. I showed my mom the bad word. We returned the book to the bookstore. I found a different book that I really liked, and it had nothing bad in it. I had a great time reading it.
I am so glad I listened to the Holy Ghost. If I hadn’t, then I’d probably feel horrible right now. Sometimes one simple word can hurt you. My mom and dad are proud of me for telling them. I felt great that day!

Some people are reluctant to read the scriptures, but once they get a taste, they get excited. Henry said, “My companion and I were teaching a lady, and she never would do the reading in the Book of Mormon that we asked her to do for our next appointment. Finally, we decided we would spend a half-hour reading with her. We started in 3 Nephi, chapter 11 [3 Ne. 11], and read about the appearance of the Savior to the Nephites. After that she always read the Book of Mormon because she found out how great it was.”

As Remembrance Day 2022 approached, a young missionary serving in England Manchester Mission expressed honour at being able to attend Remembrance Day services, in memory of his great-grandfather.
William Inkley (pictured left), who served in the 91st division, U.S. Army, during World War I, witnessed the signing of the armistice. 19-year-old Taylor Inkley (pictured right) told his ancestors story.
“Great-grandad Bill, having spent the voyage on deck due to seasickness, arrived in Liverpool, England, July 17, 1918, with his regiment of mainly Utah boys. He was receiving training in France by July 29 and quickly saw action on September 29, in the Meuse-Argonne offensive. Recording the terror of the trenches, barbed wire and thick French forest undergrowth, the operation degraded Germany’s war efforts. William described being a sniper, hiding in trees to fire at the enemy, then spending hours up to his neck in mud, camouflaged, with only his head visible to breathe. He wondered if he would ever get out alive.”
William was born in 1890 in Salt Lake City. His patriarchal blessing said, “Be ye careful and wise and the missiles of death will pass you by and you will be able to return to your mountain home.” Taylor retells how this was fulfilled.
“While on guard patrol, William stopped to talk to soldiers at their post. They could hear the roar of battle from the front line. My great-grandfather felt a distinct impression to continue on his route. He heeded the prompting and immediately a shell flew overhead, exploding nearby, killing his two comrades. On Nov. 11, 1918, on duty in Belgium, he witnessed the signing of the armistice. In America, Nov. 11 is Veterans Day, but poppies aren’t worn, so I feel honoured to wear one at a service, for those who gave their lives so we could be free.”

It all started when her husband needed a new swimsuit. Back then, swimsuits soaked up water and became heavy when they were wet. But Rose Marie had an idea. She cut up fabric from an old jacket and used it to make her husband’s new swim trunks.
Her husband liked his swimsuit so much that he showed it to a local store. The store asked Rose Marie to make 200 suits to sell. And just like that, Rose Marie was in business!

During the battle to defend Rome, Garibaldi was wounded in his side. He hid the injury with his poncho and quietly told the surgeon to secretly visit him that night, for he didn’t want his men to know he had been wounded.