Gospel Story Finder

I am a 24-year-old young man who has gained a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ by following the prophetic admonition to hold family home evening. Although I am the only member of the Church in my family, after I was baptized, I realized that family home evening could strengthen us, and I decided to introduce it at home.
The whole family now knows that Mondays are special days when we gather as a family to learn gospel truths. Sometimes we resolve problems in the family or discuss challenges, needs, or interests of individual family members. I have learned how to really commune with my Heavenly Father and to counsel with my family members in love. As a result, we have been more united, which is a great blessing.
In addition, family home evening has laid a strong foundation for my family in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and they are now investigating the Church. In fact, the full-time missionaries join us for family home evening once in a while.
I know that when I get married, my family will be blessed through family home evening, but I am also grateful that I’ve been able to make family home evening an important part of my life now. I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true and that the family home evening program is inspired of God.
Lebani Butawo, Zimbabwe

I know this promise is true. The Sunday before my first official day as dean of Harvard Business School, I learned that then-Elder Henry B. Eyring would arrive in Boston that evening to visit his son John who was a student at the school. Nudged by the Spirit, I suggested to John that his father should stay on campus at the dean’s house so that John, his wife, Jenny, and Elder Eyring could have breakfast with me the next morning.
After breakfast, Elder Eyring and I went outside and walked toward my office. He stopped, put his hand on my shoulder, and told me that my appointment was a calling, and that I should treat it like a calling. What he said was spiritually powerful, and I took it to heart and never forgot it in my 10 years as dean. On my first official day, the Lord put an Apostle in my life at that moment to give me a message that guided my service there and prepared me to go to BYU-Idaho.

My third example is more modern. In Tongan Saints: Legacy of Faith, Brigham Young University—Hawaii president Eric B. Shumway shares something he experienced as a young missionary in Tonga. He was invited to the evening meal of a faithful Tongan family who were living in extreme poverty. Brother Shumway writes:

“Now the Kinikini family had no plantation and no animals on Tongatapu, except for a small flock of ducks that eventually dwindled to one little duckling. When I sat down on the floor in the family circle that night, four young children watched their mother put pieces of boiled breadfruit before each one of us. Then, before me, she put a freshly boiled duckling. The sight and the aroma of this delicacy made a visible impression on the children who were sitting quietly with their hands clasped in their lap. It was clear that the duckling was for me.

“‘I’ll not eat this by myself,’ I said to [Brother] Tevita Muli. ‘We will all share.’

“Before I could start dividing it, Tevita Muli quickly interrupted, ‘No, you will eat it by yourself. It is yours!’

“‘But your children?’ I protested.

“‘They do not want to touch it,’ he continued. ‘You honor them by eating it yourself. Some day they will be proud to tell their children they went without kiki (meat), so that a servant of the Lord might eat and be filled’” ([1991], 10).

When I was 12 years old, me and my older siblings decided to find another church to help us better live the teaching of Jesus Christ as we understood in the Bible. We became like the Wise Men at the Savior’s Birth, seeking for Christ.

My mother, Dorothy, is the oldest of twelve children. My mother’s sister, Katherine Warren, we call her Aunt Rene, was the first member of our family to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She lived in New Orleans, Louisiana and was baptized on Christmas Day 1976. [1]

Aunt Rene shared the gospel with our family by holding a Family Bible Study. [2] She would travel from New Orleans to Baton Rouge often to hold Bible Study with her 11 siblings and their children, all at my mom’s house in Baton Rouge under a huge oak tree. Aunt Rene would teach us the gospel of Jesus Christ using the Bible and the Book of Mormon. Aunt Rene was guided by the Lord on how to teach us. She was shown in a vision that some members of her family would be baptized.

As a result of her teachings and lessons with the missionaries, 13 members of my family were baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on January 21, 1979. We found Christ! It was a large baptism in the South and Church News recorded it. [3]

I used to watch my father during the time he served as a bishop; he carried that responsibility during the Great Depression, when he had an added welfare burden. How often I remember going out with him, night after night, to deliver a sack of flour, a sack of sugar, or some other commodity to someone in need. We always had difficulty managing an uninterrupted vacation. I remember particularly one time when we had had an exciting day fishing on Lake Yellowstone. As I passed the lodge at Fishing Bridge, I saw a sign in the window: “A telegram for L. Tom Perry.” Without reading it, I knew what that meant. I was right—a widow had passed away, and we had to leave our vacation early and return home so that Dad could conduct the funeral. I saw him also during tithing settlement, interviewing hour after hour, day after day, until he completed his assignment.

Then the time came for his release after serving as bishop for eighteen years. That day I caught a little of the vision of true service and the joy it brings. It had been indicated to him that he was going to be called to the high council, but as stake conference approached no one issued a call to him. As we sat in stake conference that day my father’s heart was heavy; he realized that his great service as a bishop was about over, and he had not received a new call to replace it. Then, without any previous warning, the visiting General Authority, in reorganizing our stake presidency, called my father into that presidency. He served in it as a counselor or as stake president for the next twenty years, all of that time filled with joy at the opportunity of service.

Early one Saturday morning, as the sun began to rise over Nsit Ubium, a group of young single adults gathered for a special institute class unlike any other. We called it “Breakfast with President Nelson.” Our course material was Teachings of the Living Prophets, and our next topic was “Succession in the Presidency.”
After the class, we met with our stake president, President Williams, and the YSA representative. I felt impressed to make the next lesson one that would not only be heard but also experienced. In our discussion, the Spirit reminded us of King Benjamin’s powerful counsel: “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).
We prayerfully selected some elderly members of the stake who needed support with household chores or farm work. Then, without revealing our full plan to the students, we asked each to bring a small, affordable token—perhaps a bar of soap, a sachet of milk, or any household item they could easily offer.
When the day arrived, our class began as usual at 6:30 a.m. As we studied the inspired order of succession in the First Presidency, we came to a beautiful realization together: in the Church, every calling—from the newest convert to the prophet of God—is an invitation to serve.
At the end of the lesson, I shared our plan. The refreshments we had prepared for class would be divided—half to be enjoyed and half to be given to those we would visit. I could see the excitement on the students’ faces as they realized that today’s gospel learning would be lived out in action.
Our first stop was the humble home of Sister Rosemary Abraham, an elderly sister who had been unable to attend church for years due to health and age constraints. Together, we cleared her lawn, swept her backyard, and presented her with the small gifts we brought. Her smile and tears spoke louder than any words.
Next, we visited Brother Harrison Ekanem, a long-time member, and his wife, a kind friend of the Church. Their home needed much care. We washed their clothes, cleared the bushes, and helped crack palm kernels she sold to support the family. Watching the young people labour joyfully touched her deeply. She promised to come to church to learn more about “these good people.”
Our final stop was at the home of a former patriarch who had suffered a serious accident and could no longer walk properly. This visit became the most emotional of all. As we helped peel cassava, clear his yard, and sweep around, he was moved to tears of gratitude—and so were we.
On our walk back to the stake centre, about a mile away, the students broke into hymns of praise. Their voices filled the quiet morning air as they expressed gratitude for the opportunity to serve. They spoke of how they had felt the Savior’s love and how their understanding of service had deepened.
Before we parted, one of them said, “Brother Ibok, can we do this every week? And maybe extend this same gesture to friends who aren’t members?”
That simple question felt like the echo of King Benjamin’s legacy—a reminder that true discipleship is found not just in what we learn but in what we do with that learning.
That day, we didn’t just study about prophets—we lived their teachings.

When President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) was a young man, he and his family lived on a farm during the summer. He had this experience there:
“There was a dead tree I wished to pull. I fastened one end of a chain to the tractor and the other end to the tree. As the tractor began to move, the tree shook a little, and then the chain broke.
“I looked at that broken link and wondered how it could have given way. I went to the hardware store and bought a repair link. I put it together again, but it was an awkward and ugly connection. The chain was never, never the same.”1

Percy Peacock and his friends lived in the garden of the finest castle in the land. On sunny days people loved to stand outside the castle gate and watch the peacocks.
Percy and his friends held their heads high and strutted around the garden. Sometimes they spread their tail feathers to make colorful fans of orange, gold, green, and blue.
The people clapped their hands. “How lovely!” they cried. “What beautiful colors!”
“It’s true,” Percy said to his friends. “We peacocks are the finest, most beautiful of all birds. Just to prove that’s true,” he added, “let’s have a contest to show which bird is the finest of all. We are sure to win.”
The other peacocks all agreed that it was a splendid idea.
“Each bird must bring seeds, nuts, and berries for the prize,” said Percy. “I’m tired of eating the same old castle food.”
Percy and his friends practiced their proudest walks. They spread their tail feathers, walked down to the lake, and admired their reflections in the water.
On the day of the contest, birds came from many lands. There were small ones and large ones. Some birds squawked and others sang. There were yellow birds, red birds, blue birds, and birds of many colors.
Percy had never seen so many birds.
“There is still no bird as fine as we are,” he told his friends. “Look how fat that one is.”
“Yes, and those others are so plain,” ridiculed another peacock.
All day birds flew into the garden. Soon prize baskets were full of corn, wheat, rice, and nuts. Others were overflowing with plums, cherries, and berries.
“What a feast!” declared the peacocks.
When the robin came, she asked, “Who is the judge?”
“Oh, dear!” said Percy. “I forgot about that.”
An old owl sat nearby. “I will be the judge,” he offered.
That was fine with Percy. “I have heard that owls are very wise,” he said. To himself Percy muttered, “Owls are drab and brown and not beautiful at all.”
So all the birds flew before the judge. They flapped their wings and sang their best songs. A white swan glided on the silver lake. Parrots flashed their bright wings. Eagles soared high above the oak tree.
Last of all were the peacocks. They walked proudly and turned all around so that the judge could admire their colorful tails.
Percy anxiously clicked his beak as he passed the prize baskets. Then he shouted, “Now announce who the winner is!”
All the birds stood around the owl. The owl looked at Percy. He cleared his throat. “It is true that you peacocks have beautiful tail feathers,” he said. “But you are not modest like the robin or sensible like the sparrow. You don’t have the nightingale’s sweet song or the swan’s fine manners. You are not as fast as the hummingbird or as friendly as the canary.”
“Then who won?” asked the parrot.
“No one and everyone,” the owl said wisely. “Each of you is special. Each can learn from the other.”
For once Percy had nothing to say.
Then all the birds asked one another, “If no one won, who gets the prize?”
“All of us,” said the sparrow. “We will share.”
And that is what they did.

Illustrations by Maryn Roos
Matt and Mandy’s family is moving to a different city because of Dad’s job.
I’m leaving all of my friends behind!
Don’t worry, Matt. You make friends a lot easier than I do.
Yeah, I guess. But I still don’t know where my new school is. Or where my class will be. I’m sure I’ll get lost.
It’s scary right now because the future is foggy—like that day last winter when we got lost driving home from the movies.
That was actually kind of a fun adventure …
But we have each other, and we have the gospel. And if we hold on tight to those things, everything will work out.
Hmm. Fog? Holding on tight? Hey! It’s like Lehi’s dream in the Book of Mormon—holding on to the iron rod.
I guess it is.
And guess what else. Mandy, you know you’ve been looking forward to being old enough to go to the temple to do baptisms for the dead?
Mandy: Yes?
Well, our new home will be much closer to a temple.
Cool!
(To be continued.)

You can do this, you can do this, Sydney thought as she walked into the stake Primary activity. She saw the girls from her ward and thought about what Mom had said in the car. Maybe things would be easier once she got to know them better.
She took a deep breath and smiled. “Hi, guys!” One of the girls shot her that look—the look that screamed you don’t belong here.
Sydney’s smile wavered. Then she noticed what Libby, the leader of the group, was wearing. “Hey, we have the same hat!” Sydney exclaimed.
“It’s not a hat. It’s a beanie,” Libby said slowly, like Sydney wasn’t smart enough to understand. The girls giggled. “Or don’t you know that word? You were held back a grade, right?”
Sydney turned and walked away, trying not to cry.
Why were they always so mean to her? Ever since Sydney had moved here a few months ago, Libby and the other girls had made church and school miserable. They’d been especially horrible since finding out that Sydney had been so sick last year that she’d had to repeat a grade.
She glanced at the clock. Maybe she could call her mom and just go home.
“Want to sit in our row?” Sydney looked up to see a tall girl from another ward grinning and patting the chair beside her. Her nametag said Lauren.
“Sure.” Sydney sat down and kept her eyes glued to the ground. That was how she noticed the socks.
Cool socks. Crazy socks. Socks decorated with purple polka dots, pink stars, lime zigzags, blue smiley faces, and everything in between. Every girl in the row was wearing them.
Lauren noticed Sydney’s gaze and stuck out her foot. “Like them? They’re our mascot!”
“Mascot?” Sydney asked.
“Yup! We’re Sisters of Courage, Kindness, and Service—S.O.C.K.S.,” Lauren explained. “We made these at an activity and wear them to remind us who we should be.”
Being one of the S.O.C.K.S. sounded pretty amazing to Sydney. “Can I be one too?” she whispered.
“Of course! Anyone can join the S.O.C.K.S. That’s the best part!”
Sydney smiled and settled back in her chair as the stake Primary president started speaking.
From that day on, Sydney was a S.O.C.K.S., whether she was by herself or with the other S.O.C.K.S. girls. She made a pair of her own crazy socks, and they reminded her to be a Sister of Courage, Kindness, and Service, no matter what.
A few weeks later, she was put to the test. She and Libby were standing outside, waiting for rides home after a Primary activity, when Libby’s cell phone buzzed.
“Dad! I can’t wait to see you this weekend!” Pause. “Oh.” Longer pause. “Are you sure you can’t come?” Long pause. “OK. Bye.” Libby’s voice quavered.
Sydney knew that Libby’s parents had split up, but she never thought about how hard that must be. Libby, so cool and popular, had hard times too.
“So I guess now you’re going to tell everyone that my dad doesn’t want to see me, huh?” Libby scowled down at the sidewalk.
This is a perfect chance to get back at her! Sydney thought. What should I say?
Sydney glanced down at her socks and knew the answer.
“Of course not. I’m sorry you can’t see him this weekend.”
Libby looked up, surprised, just as both of their moms pulled up.
“I’ll see you at school,” Sydney said.
“OK. See you then.”
That night Sydney put her crazy socks away extra carefully. Today she had proved that she was a true S.O.C.K.S.—a sister of courage, kindness, and service—no matter what.

This is how President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) lived his life. Many years ago, I had an assignment with him. As part of the assignment, we were to be in a four-hour training meeting on a Saturday afternoon. However, he felt the prompting of the Holy Ghost to visit some people with great needs in order to lift their spirits and help them to be of good cheer. So for the first two hours, while I and other brethren were in the meeting, he was out doing good to others, ministering as the Lord did in His mortal life. President Monson joined us for the final two hours of the training meeting and did a marvelous job of teaching and training.
After the meeting, I commented on how well he taught in the meeting and then thanked him for the most powerful teaching: his example of going out and ministering to individuals, one by one. He smiled and said: “One thing about me, I am never confused about my priorities.” I thought about what he had said and after taking him to the airport and bidding him goodbye, I headed for home. Then I changed direction and went to visit a sister who was ill and needed some cheering up. Since that time, I have tried to live in my very imperfect way to be a light to others as the Savior commanded us to be and to do so in word, action, and deed.

As that first school year drew to a close, I again found myself without enough money to pay my tithing and my last month’s rent. I paid the tithing, hoping to find some extra work I could do somewhere to earn money. I was concerned because my already busy schedule did not provide much in the way of extra time, and I did not want to be late in paying Sister Knight. The day that my rent was due, there was a knock at my door. When I opened the door, Don Wood, a member of the BYU football team, was standing in the doorway. He handed me an envelope that he told me he had received earlier that evening from his father, President Charles W. Wood, then first counselor in the Union Oregon Stake presidency. President Wood had asked Don to deliver the envelope to me. Don had said he would be seeing me at school the following Monday or Tuesday, but President Wood had replied, “No, you take it to him tonight. As my plane was landing in Boise, I was impressed that Jim needed some help. I think he needs it now, and I want you to deliver this envelope to him tonight.”
I had never spoken to President Wood nor, to the best of my memory, to Sister Knight or any other person concerning my lack of funds. As the oldest of seven children from a very poor family, I had always been aware I could not expect any financial assistance from my family. The experiences I had already had my first year at BYU had greatly solidified my testimony of tithing.
Recalling all this in my mind, I thanked Don for delivering the message and envelope. Slowly I opened it; inside was $20.

My wife, Mary, and I have someone we love dearly who has struggled for much of her life with certain aspects of the Church. She loves the gospel, and she loves the Church but still has questions. She is sealed in the temple, is active in the Church, fulfills her callings, and is a wonderful mother and wife. Through the years she has tried to do those things that she knew to be right and refrain from doing those things that she knew to be wrong. She has kept her covenants and continued to search. At times she has been grateful to hold on to the faith of others.
Not long ago her bishop asked to see her and her husband. He asked them to accept a temple assignment to act as proxies for those who needed temple ordinances. This calling surprised them, but they accepted and began their service in the house of the Lord. Their teenage son had recently participated in family history research and found a family name for whom temple ordinances had not been completed. In time they acted as proxies and did the temple ordinances for this person and his family. As they knelt at the altar and the sealing ordinance was performed, this wonderful, patient woman who has searched for so long had a private spiritual experience by which she came to know that the temple and the ordinances performed therein are true and real. She called her mother and told her of her experience and said that while she still has some questions, she knows that the temple is true, that temple ordinances are true, and that the Church is true. Her mother wept with gratitude for a loving, patient Heavenly Father and for a daughter who patiently continues to search.
Patient covenant keeping brings the blessings of heaven into our lives.17

When 23-year-old Spencer Moroni Teuiau received his mission call, he couldn’t stop smiling. After four years of delays waiting for dental procedures to be completed, this young man from the island of Raiatea received his call on his birthday. He remembers reading aloud phrases from the letter: “minister of the restored gospel,” “advocate and effective messenger of the truth,” “ambassador of the Savior,” and thinking, “Wow! With all my weaknesses I’m going to have to trust in the Lord.”
But that is something he is used to doing. Moroni grew up in the Church. He is the third of six children to serve a full-time mission, and he recalls “dreaming about serving a mission ever since I was a little boy.” He remembers memorizing missionary scriptures during his four years of seminary and listening to returned missionaries talk about their missions. But he also remembers dental examinations, adjustments, and years of wearing an apparatus. “There were times when I almost gave up,” he says. However, with the encouragement of his family and his own perseverance, he kept hope alive. Today he is faithfully serving in the Tahiti Papeete Mission.

Joseph knew that his salary arrangement with the lumber company would not serve his goals, so he headed for Salt Lake City before he was sixteen. Salt Lake merchants were not accustomed to teenagers expert at shorthand, typing, and office work, but Joseph soon made his way as an employee of the Consolidated Wagon and Machine Company at $25 a month. He was given the most unpleasant job in the company—collecting money owed the company by some of its customers—but his modest and charitable character made him a success, and he became secretary to the general manager of the company. Meanwhile, his shorthand improved rapidly, as his gruff but kindly boss started dictating to him the moment he entered the office. The friendly give-and-take between employer and employee was better than all the shorthand practice in the world. After six years of work in Salt Lake City, Joseph was called to the Swiss-German mission and departed in October 1911. Upon arriving in Zurich, Switzerland, he was overwhelmed at the task that faced him. “I was really quite concerned when I saw those big German sentences across the tops of the shops and so forth,” he recalls. “I wondered how I would ever learn that language.” But he absorbed German rapidly, thanks to “the gift of tongues”—along with much prayer, hard work, tracting, and studying. His companion taught him to speak a new sentence every day: first he learned to say, “Bitte lesen Sie dieses” (Please read this) as he handed tracts to German families. “I had more investigators come out to meetings before I could learn the language than afterwards, I think,” he reflected.

Across campus, Jackie is talking to another close friend, Petra Bäcker, 15. Petra is German, but she was raised in Saudi Arabia and learned to speak fluent English by attending international schools in which English is the classroom language. She has lived in several countries and came to Kaiserslautern in 1976. “I was glad to make friends with Melanie and Jackie,” she says. “I was interested at first because they spoke English, and I wanted to keep in practice. But now they are my best friends.”
In fact, Petra spends so much time in the Howells’ home and with Jackie and Melanie at school and church that some people think all three are sisters and that Petra is LDS. “The Howells have been great friends and good examples to me,” Petra continues. “They are just like sisters to me. We go to Mutual together, we went to youth conference together, and we do something together almost every day.”

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, himself a supremely kind person, shared this story:
Elder James E. Talmage, a man who is remembered for his doctrinal teachings, showed great kindness to a neighbor family in distress. They were complete strangers to him. Before he was an Apostle, as a young father, he became aware of great suffering at a neighbor’s home whose large family was stricken with the dreaded diphtheria. He did not care that they were not members of the Church; his kindness and charity moved him to act. The Relief Society was desperately trying to find people to help, but no one would because of the contagious nature of the disease.
When he arrived, James found one toddler already dead and two others who were in agony from the disease. He immediately went to work, cleaning the untidy house, preparing the young body for burial, cleaning and providing for the other sick children, spending the entire day doing so. He came back the next morning to find that one more of the children had died during the night. A third child was still suffering terribly. He wrote in his journal: “She clung to my neck, ofttimes coughing on my face and clothing, . . . yet I could not put her from me. During the half hour immediately preceding her death, I walked the floor with the little creature in my arms. She died in agony at 10 A.M.” The three children had all departed within the space of 24 hours. He then assisted the family with the burial arrangements and spoke at their graveside services. This he did all for a family of strangers. What a great example of Christlike kindness!

Consider the lifesaving power in this story. A few years ago, twin girls Brielle and Kyrie were born prematurely to the Jackson family. They were placed in separate incubators to reduce the risk of infection. Kyrie, the larger sister at two pounds three ounces, quickly began gaining weight and calmly slept. But Brielle, who weighed only two pounds at birth, could not keep up with her. Suddenly one day Brielle’s condition became critical. The nurse tried everything she could think of to stabilize Brielle. Still Brielle squirmed and fussed as her oxygen intake plummeted and her heart rate soared. Then the nurse remembered a procedure she had heard about. She said to the worried parents, “Let me just try putting Brielle in with her sister to see if that helps.” The parents consented, and the nurse slipped the squirming baby into the incubator with the bigger sister. No sooner had the door of the incubator closed than Brielle snuggled up to Kyrie and calmed right down. Within minutes Brielle’s blood-oxygen readings were the best they had been since she was born. As she dozed, Kyrie wrapped her tiny arm around her smaller sibling (see Nancy Sheehan, “A Sister’s Helping Hand,” Reader’s Digest, May 1996, 155–56).

The youth of the Utah Weber Heights Stake were treated to an out-of-the-ordinary Mutual activity. You could say it was something special. They got to spend a food-and-fun-filled Saturday with a special-needs Mutual group in a neighboring stake. Each member of the special Mutual had two friends from the Weber Heights Stake to spend the day with them.
The youth admitted a little apprehension about the activity at first, but Ami Houston, 13, said that all it takes to get along is “being friends like you are to all your other friends.”

With funding approved by the Europe Central Area presidency, Church humanitarian resources, missionaries, and members in Romania provided immediate relief to flood victims. Members from 4 of the 22 branches in Romania, along with 18 full-time missionaries, lined up in a meetinghouse in Bucharest to assemble more than 3,000 hygiene kits and food packets. These packets, with blankets, bread, and bottled water, were delivered to the Spantov, Chiselet, and Manasterea villages along the Danube River.
This was believed to be the largest emergency relief project undertaken by the Church in Romania, said humanitarian country directors Steven and Kristine Johnston.
Many of the more than 3,000 flood victims expressed gratitude for the Church’s humanitarian donation. One woman told missionaries, “Another church brought us little crosses, but the Mormons brought us food.”
Another flood victim told President John Ashby of the Romania Bucharest Mission, “I didn’t know what I was going to eat tonight. All I have are the clothes on my back.”
“I think [members having the opportunity to serve] was the most gratifying aspect of this project. We hope all the members here know that their Church is truly concerned with the less fortunate and follows the Lord’s admonition to care for the poor and needy,” Elder Johnston said. “The comfort provided by Church members and missionaries made a big difference to many people, both to the recipients and to those providing the service.”