Gospel Story Finder

Today is Friday the 13th. I’ve never been superstitious before, but oh brother! You wouldn’t believe the events of the day. So much has happened that I thought I should keep my journal up-to-date for as long as I’m able—literally. Today I found out I have a rare form of cancer. I’m pretty scared. It’s hard thinking of the possibility of me dying.
As hard as it is for me, I think it is even harder for my parents, especially my father. They’re not members, and they don’t understand that dying isn’t all that bad. It’s hard for me to explain it to them. I’ve only been a member for a little over a year now, and there is so much I need to learn.
On the Sunday I went into the hospital, several members from my ward (Albany, Georgia), including Bishop Golden and his wife, came to my room and held a worship service. It was great. I love them all. Some of the members visit me almost every day. The Relief Society sisters even made me a get-well quilt. …
I found out that tomorrow I have to go to Emory Hospital in Atlanta. Tomorrow! They are going to do a bone marrow biopsy and a kidney test on me. I’m not too excited. Understandable! But, Emory is well known for its cancer research. The doctors there are among the best in the field, so I guess I should be glad I’m able to go there.
I don’t understand why this is happening to me. I live the Word of Wisdom. I’ve always tried to eat right. I exercise. I don’t blame anyone. I just don’t understand. …
I talked with Bishop Golden today. We talked about the plan of salvation. He told me I should trust in my Father in Heaven. Bishop Golden always knows what to say. He’s just about my best friend. Since I’ve been a member of the Church, I’ve been able to go to him at any time and feel welcome. “You’re better than you think you are,” he always tells me. It really helps, especially now. I can tell him anything. That’s such a relief. I have trouble letting my feelings show. I’m all smiles at church. They think I’m so strong. I wish they knew how scared I am. Sometimes I even try to kid myself about the whole thing. …

“Congratulations, José,” Bishop García said. He handed me my new temple recommend.
“Thank you!” I said. I shook his hand and walked out of the office, staring down at the white paper. I could go to the temple to do baptisms!
My abuelos (grandparents) were waiting in the hall. My parents didn’t come to church very often, so I usually went to church with Abuela and Abuelo. They both gave me a hug.
“Are you excited for your first temple trip next week?” Abuelo asked as we walked out of the building.
“Yes!” I said. But I couldn’t help noticing a funny, fluttery feeling in my stomach.
“It will be so nice to go together as a family,” Abuela said with a big smile.
I smiled back, but the funny feeling didn’t go away.
As the day of the temple trip got closer, I got more nervous. I finally talked to Abuela about it.
She was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, but she stopped when I came in. “What’s wrong?” she asked, wiping her hands on a towel. “You look worried.”
I sighed and sat down at the table. “I’m really excited to go to the temple. But I’m also nervous.”
Abuela nodded, like she understood how I felt. “You don’t need to worry. People will be there to help you every step of the way.”
As she spoke, I felt a warm, comforting feeling from my head to my toes. I knew it would be a special day.
Soon the day of our temple trip came. I put on my Sunday clothes and combed my hair. Abuela came into my room.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Excited! I can’t wait to go to the temple.”
Abuela sat on the end of my bed and pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.
“This is a temple ordinance card,” she said. “It’s for my brother. He was very special to me. But he died before he could be baptized. Would you be baptized for him in the temple today?”
Abuela held out the paper to me. I read the name: Ramon Rodriguez. I could tell Abuela loved her brother, and I was glad she trusted me to get baptized for him.
“Of course, Abuela. Thanks!” I carefully put the card in my pocket.
While riding the bus to the Santo Domingo Temple, Abuela told about when she went to the temple for the first time with Abuelo. Back then, they had to go all the way to Peru because there wasn’t a temple in the Dominican Republic.
An hour later, we arrived at the temple. Bishop García was there too. My eyes widened as we walked up to the building. It was so beautiful! I paused to read the words above the doors: Holiness to the Lord: The House of the Lord.
As I walked through the doors, I knew I was entering a special space. All my worries seemed to melt away. Everything was quiet and calm.
After changing into white clothes, I stood in the baptismal font with Bishop García. I listened carefully as he said the words of the baptismal prayer. When he said Ramon’s name, a peaceful feeling filled my body.
Bishop García lowered me into the water. When I came up, I was smiling. I couldn’t wait to do this again!

A few years ago I received an anonymous letter from a kindhearted dentist who demonstrated brotherly love and goodwill. I’d like to share it with you:
“Dear President Monson:
“I feel remiss in that I should have sent you a thank-you note sooner. Last December I listened to your talk given during the Christmas devotional. You spoke of an older woman who could not afford to pay for the registration for an automobile she had recently purchased. Others came to her aid. All involved were touched.
“I am a dentist by profession. Not long after the devotional, my receptionist informed me that an acquaintance of hers was coming into my office. She had problems with two of her teeth. She knew this woman and told me of her circumstances. The woman carried many burdens. The family business, which she ran, was doing poorly, and the family was three months behind in paying rent. They had five children, many grown into adulthood, but all had moved back home because of difficult personal circumstances. By sheer force of will, she had kept her family together for some time. Now two teeth were broken.
“The woman arrived for her appointment and explained about her dental problem. She asked if I would allow her to pay her bill over time. She explained to me that her family had experienced several financial reversals and were just recently starting to pay some overdue bills.
“I assured her that her credit was good with me. She asked if I could repair just one of the two broken teeth at that time. I assured her that I could, and we began.
“Since I had the time, I repaired both teeth, for which she was grateful. When the work was completed, thinking of your talk, I told her that if she would not be offended, I should like to make a Christmas present of the dental work, for which there would be no bill. She was astonished. I could sense the depth of the stress and strain she had carried, as uncontrollable tears of gratitude gushed forth due to a small, simple act of kindness. It must have been years since someone showed her some little favor. Not able to speak, she made her way out.
“Both my assistant and receptionist were so moved by her reaction that they also [shed] tears and could hardly speak. I, on the other hand, was doubly glad. One part, in seeing such a simple act have such a happy effect on another. And the second part, for once in my life having a patient in my office crying for joy and not for pain!
“To you, my very best wishes.
“Sincerely,
“A brother in the gospel.”

Religious observance in the home blesses our families. Example is particularly important. What we are speaks so loudly that our children may not hear what we say. When I was nearly five years old, my mother received word that her younger brother had been killed when the battleship on which he was serving was bombed off the coast of Japan near the end of World War II. This news was devastating to her. She was very emotional and went into the bedroom. After a while I peeked into the room to see if she was OK. She was kneeling by the bed in prayer. A great peace came over me because she had taught me to pray and love the Savior. This was typical of the example she always set for me. Mothers and fathers praying with children may be more important than any other example.

The General Authority who married Brother and Sister Hunter gave them some advice they took very seriously: Stay out of debt; never buy anything until you have the money to pay for it. They followed that counsel, sticking with it throughout their married life and teaching it to their children.
That counsel proved to be extremely valuable when the bank where Howard was employed failed during the Great Depression of the early 1930s. Out of work, but also out of debt, Brother Hunter quickly found other employment.

A missionary and his companion knocked on the door of an investigator to whom they had given a Book of Mormon. As the elderly woman answered the door, the missionary felt a powerful feeling flood over him. The woman welcomed the missionaries and explained that she had read and believed what they had taught her. The young missionary was so affected by the feeling he felt that he prayed, “Dear Father, please let me never forget the feeling I have felt today.”

One cold winter morning in Wisconsin, as I was running late to early morning seminary, I came across a car that was stopped in the middle of the road. In a rush, I waited impatiently for the car to move. With the car only a few yards from the stop sign, I assumed that the driver had stopped prematurely. When the car continued not to move I passed the car and went on to the church building a few blocks away.
As I drove I wondered why the car stopped in such a strange place. I thought that perhaps the person was lost, but that didn’t feel right. It occurred to me that maybe they were having car troubles. I was running late and rationalized that someone else would surely help them. To this day I could not tell you why I was so anxious not to be late, but I can tell you, that in the moment I felt so rushed, I failed to recognize the promptings of the Spirit to stop and help that driver. It was small, nothing more than a brief thought. Seminary was a good place to be going. However, there was a choice that would have been better.
On my way home from seminary I once again was confronted by the same car sitting exactly where I had left it. This time I stopped. I got out of my car, and I looked at the driver. I was shocked and disappointed in myself for not listening to inspiration. In the driver’s seat of that car was an elderly woman. My heart ached like it never had before as I realized the severity of that one missed moment. I could have offered to help her push her car to the side, helped her find a tow truck, or offered to let her sit in the warmth of the church building while we figured our what to do with her car. In the end someone else had already helped her find a tow truck that was due to be there any moment.
There are often times I reflect on the moment that I was too rushed to recognize that opportunity to help one of my fellow sisters. The lesson was clear and as vivid today as it was on that early winter morning.

“I ran a 5K last Saturday with some of the most wonderful women and men at the Utah YSA conference ‘Together in Christ.’ I was touched by the Spirit of that evening. We had so much fun and felt energized as we gathered together and talked of Christ and ran near His holy house. Several analogies stood out to me that I wanted to share with you.
“First, we were meant to run at our own pace.
“My goal for this 5K was to keep running, don’t stop, and finish (keeping the pressure low!). As I prepared, I realized I could go much farther if I ran at my pace and was consistent. In this beautiful run, some people ran fast, some ran slow, some walked, and some pushed friends or family in wheelchairs. It was not about who came in first or last, but it was about encouraging each other to keep going, doing it together, and finishing.
“Your pace and progress is between you and the Lord. And I think He’s not so much concerned about your placement in comparison to the person ahead of you or behind you. Rather, I think He’s focused on helping you to keep going wherever you are in your personal journey back home to Him. So find and enjoy the pace that works for you, and let Heavenly Father and the Savior strengthen and enlighten your steps!
“Second, we run better together!
“I loved meeting and running with so many incredible disciples of the Savior! With others beside me, I felt motivated to keep going, and the distance didn’t feel as long. One sister said to me, ‘I can run so much better with you!’ I loved that we cheered each other on. Helping others along the way actually gave us the motivation to keep going. I somehow had the breath to visit while running and felt as though I could’ve kept on going. I think that was because of who I was running with and Who we were really running for. We were gathering together in Christ.
“And just as we lifted and encouraged each other in this 5K run, the Savior often works through others in this mortal run to lift our burdens and give us strength, encouragement, safety, comfort, and increased joy. He gives us relief through those that run beside us.
“The last leg was long and uphill and directly toward the Saratoga Springs Utah Temple, which was glowing in the night. I won’t soon forget the comradery and love offered and received as we pressed our way to the finish. May we strengthen each other and feel increased joy as we run this journey together in Christ.”
Sister Kristin M. Yee, Facebook, Aug. 18, 2023, facebook.com/RS2ndCounselor.

Whenever Robert Norton got on a bike, he was a whole new person.
“Robert would go outside at eight in the morning and ride his bike in our driveway until ten at night. He got so good at it that he was the fastest Special Olympics cyclist in Connecticut,” says his younger brother Lee. “Before he got involved in Special Olympics, Robert was a loner. But when he came to Special Olympics, he opened up. He made friends, and kids at school started talking to him, though they hadn’t before.”
For nearly 30 years, the Special Olympics has been helping athletes with disabilities compete with one another on local, national, and international levels. Robert, who was mentally disabled, competed in many Special Olympics before he died in 1992. “I miss my brother, and I never put him out of my mind,” explains Lee. “The Special Olympics really fulfilled Robert’s life and was a great thing for him.”

Home teaching requires energy. I remember times when I was so exhausted from the demands of difficult days in the surgical operating room (in addition to duties relating to family needs and to Church responsibilities) that the prospects of spending evening hours in home teaching were not always anticipated eagerly. Almost without exception, however, I can say that I returned home more invigorated and happy than when I left. I often told Sister Nelson that rewards for a home teacher were not remote; they were immediate, at least for me.

During the years she lived in my parents’ home, she told us Church history and scripture stories at bedtime. The way Grandmother spoke of Jesus Christ, I knew she loved Him. One afternoon my cousin and I went into Grandmother’s room for a visit. She looked at us thoughtfully.
“Now, children, I’m going to die pretty soon,” she said. “And when I’m gone, I know you will feel sad. But I don’t want you to cry too much. I will be with Jesus and with your Grandpa Amacher, you know.” Grandma’s faith helped me come to know Jesus Christ.

When I was about six years old, I had an adventure I’ll never forget. Mom and Dad decided to raise chickens and sell the eggs to earn money. Every day Mom or Dad would take me to the chicken coop to gather eggs. One day Mom needed my help.
“Bobby, I need two eggs for a cake I’m making,” Mom said. “I know we already gathered the eggs today, but do you think you could go and find two more for me?”
“I will, Mom,” I said. “I’ll find those eggs for you.”
This was the first time I had searched for eggs by myself. It made me feel important. Off I went to begin my search. I went inside the chicken coop, first looking in all the corners because that’s where Dad usually found eggs. But there weren’t any. I peered into a nesting box—there was an egg! I was reaching for it when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rooster enter the chicken coop. My throat went dry. In my excitement to gather eggs, I had forgotten about the roosters.
We had big white roosters that didn’t like people. They would chase us and peck us with their sharp beaks. Usually Dad or Mom was with me and would chase them away. But now no one was there to help me.
“Stay there, rooster. Just stay there,” I muttered under my breath as I backed toward the door, keeping my eyes on the rooster. I carefully moved past the rooster until I got to the doorway. The rooster’s bright eyes watched me, but I thought I could get away by backing out and running to the house.
I turned, and outside I saw two other roosters facing me. I was surrounded! If I went back in, the two would follow me. If I tried to run, they would all chase and attack me. I didn’t know what to do. Tears filled my eyes. No one was around to help me—except Heavenly Father.
Mom always said if I needed help, I should kneel and pray and Heavenly Father would be there. Even though the roosters were surrounding me, even though they were coming closer, I dropped to my knees. Trembling, I began to pray.
“Heavenly Father, please help me get away from these roosters. Don’t let them peck me. Please make the roosters go away.”
I ended my prayer, wiped my tears, and slowly got to my feet. As soon as I stood up, a sound came from my mouth: “Putt putt putt … putt putt putt,” like the sound a tractor makes. It surprised me. The roosters stopped, looked startled, and suddenly turned their tails toward me and ran away.
I hadn’t thought to make the sound myself. I knew the Holy Ghost had put the idea into my mind. Heavenly Father had answered my prayer. I was safe. I quickly gathered two eggs and then hurried to the house to tell Mom what had happened. She was proud of me for remembering to pray when I needed help.
I was happy that I could help Mom with an important job, and I was even happier to know that Heavenly Father is always near and will always hear and answer our prayers.

Now, may I give one example of both basic and master planning.

Some of you may recall a brief report I gave last October on the Church branch in Bermejillo, Mexico. With the help of welfare services missionaries, the branch president and his welfare services committee undertook some basic planning to apply the very basic welfare services program of the Church in their branch. Their work resulted in significant changes in the lives of Church members. They painted their homes, penned their livestock, and taught the essentials of personal and family preparedness, emphasizing good health practices.

The results today are that a chapel is under construction with most of the work being done by the members, including making their own bricks. President Rodolfo William Mortensen, the mission president, indicates that the branch is now a ward. Nearly every family has a garden; some even produce honey from bees. Most families have started a year’s supply of food. Convert baptisms have increased sharply in the past year. All this has happened because Bishop Castaneda, a convert of eight years, had the vision of how to lead his people in living the gospel in Bermejillo. Basic planning, starting with the welfare of his members and reaching out to touch every facet of their lives, has lifted this ward to heights previously not thought possible.

“A Blessing in My Life”
Blessing Nwakaego Okoronkwo felt drawn to the Gathering Place in her stake in Nigeria because she wanted to learn a skill—in particular, catering—that would benefit her financially.
“In the class, we learned amazing things,” she says. “I tried to take the class very seriously. I tried not to miss even once, and I always had my notebook and my pen.”
During one class in her Port Harcourt Nigeria North Stake, she and other students learned to make chin chin, a crunchy deep-fried snack popular in Nigeria, Ghana, and other West African nations. Blessing also learned to make peanut snacks.
“I decided to buy my ingredients and practice in my house what I had been taught,” she says. When she took her finished product to the school where she teaches, “Everybody was like, ‘Wow!’”
That prompted her to begin selling her snacks—in small quantities at first and then in larger quantities. Her little business quickly proved successful.
“It’s been amazing!” she says. “I’ve been really blessed by the Gathering Place.”
Blessing encourages others to take advantage of the opportunities that have blessed her. “Just put in your best effort,” she says.

In general conference those long years ago, as I related this account, I mentioned that I had lost track of Mrs. Patton but that I wanted to once more answer her question “Will Arthur live again?”
And now, my brothers and sisters, I share with you the rest of this account. I delivered my message on April 6, 1969. Again, I had little or no hope that Mrs. Patton would actually hear the talk. I had no reason to think she would listen to general conference. As I have mentioned, she was not a member of the Church. And then I learned that something akin to a miracle had taken place. Having no idea whatsoever who would be speaking at conference or what subjects they might speak about, Latter-day Saint neighbors of Mrs. Terese Patton in California, where she had moved, invited her to their home to listen to a session of conference with them. She accepted their invitation and thus was listening to the very session where I directed my remarks to her personally.
During the first week of May 1969, to my astonishment and joy, I received a letter postmarked Pomona, California, and dated April 29, 1969. It was from Mrs. Terese Patton. I share with you a part of that letter:
“Dear Tommy,
“I hope you don’t mind my calling you Tommy, as I always think of you that way. I don’t know how to thank you for the comforting talk you gave.
“Arthur was 15 years old when he enlisted in the navy. He was killed one month before his 19th birthday on July 5, 1944.
“It was wonderful of you to think of us. I don’t know how to thank you for your comforting words, both when Arthur died and again in your talk. I have had many questions over the years, and you have answered them. I am now at peace concerning Arthur. … God bless and keep you always.
“Love,
“Terese Patton”15
My brothers and sisters, I do not believe it was a coincidence that I was impressed to give that particular message at the April 1969 general conference. Nor do I believe it was a coincidence that Mrs. Terese Patton was invited by neighbors to join them in their home for that particular session of conference. I am certain our Heavenly Father was mindful of her needs and wanted her to hear the comforting truths of the gospel.

I remember having a particularly difficult time at one point during my mission to Cleveland, Ohio. I wondered why I wasn’t seeing the same tangible success other missionaries in my area seemed to be having. My own weakness was foremost in my mind as I pondered the dilemma. I couldn’t help but think that I was doing something wrong, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. I counseled with the Lord many times about the situation and also turned to the scriptures. One morning in my study of the Book of Mormon, I came across a verse that was the answer to my prayers and added strength to my testimony.
“Wherefore, I, Nephi, did strive to keep the commandments of the Lord, and I did exhort my brethren to faithfulness and diligence” (1 Nephi 17:15).
I had always thought of Nephi as a great prophet who never made any mistakes. I admired Nephi, but I felt I would never be as great as he was. However, when I read this verse written by Nephi, I realized that he was mortal and imperfect also. He didn’t write, “I, Nephi, kept all the commandments perfectly all the time.” Rather, he wrote that he “did strive to keep the commandments of the Lord.”
That simple verse touched me. Suddenly I realized that I am no different from Nephi or any other great prophet or missionary. We’ve been given the same commandments, and they will be judged on how well they improved their time on earth just as I will be. I don’t have to be perfect; I only have to strive to keep the commandments and do the very best I can with the abilities I have been given. In the end, when I come up short of perfection, it will be the Lord’s grace that will make up for the rest. Through this otherwise simple verse, I gained a greater testimony of the scriptures as communication from Heavenly Father.

As we moved along the line exchanging handshakes and greetings, one slight young woman shyly extended her arm. As I took it, I realized that she had no hand on it or on her other arm. We exchanged smiles and moved along.
I next encountered this young sister after she and her husband were invited to speak as a young couple married within the last eighteen months in the Manila Temple. When she arose to speak, I noticed that in addition to being born without hands, this young woman had an artificial leg. As first she and then her husband spoke, there unfolded a most remarkable story about their lives.
The stake president was her father. Despite what to others may have been a handicap, but what to her must have been only a difficulty, this young sister had completed a full-term proselyting mission. She described in beautiful terms her feelings about going to the Manila Temple to be married. Hers was a talk of such maturity in gospel understanding and humility that it would have been difficult to equal anywhere in the Church. Then her husband stood and told of how he had written to his girlfriend after being in the mission field two months and later toward the end, of how he wanted to marry her in the Manila Temple when he returned home. There were no second thoughts, no change of heart when far removed, but instead, a growing understanding of the meaning and blessing of temple marriage for them both.
As they proudly showed us their baby after conference, and when we considered the splendid achievements of this young husband and wife, we recalled the Savior’s words, “Blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it” (Luke 11:28).

Illustration by Anastasia Suvorova
While my husband and I attended college and for many years afterward, things were financially tight for us. Instead of buying gifts, I made them. One year I made Christmas tree skirts to give to my sisters and sisters-in-law.
I gathered material scraps and remnants that were green, red, white, or a combination of those colors. Most of the fabrics were not Christmas print. I cut them into simple squares and sewed them together to make the tree skirts. Each skirt had a variety of fabric types.
That year for Christmas, we traveled to my in-laws’ home. Sharon, my sister-in-law, lived nearby, so we went to visit her family and deliver our gifts.
To my dismay, under her tree I saw a beautifully pieced and quilted tree skirt made of Christmas-patterned materials and scalloped edges. Sharon was talented in sewing, quilting, appliquéing, tatting, weaving, and other skills. She had made the skirt earlier that year.
I could not help but compare her beautiful tree skirt to my simple one. I was embarrassed to give it to her. I told her I understood if she didn’t want to use it.
When we opened our gift from Sharon the following year, we were surprised that she had given us the tree skirt I had admired the year before. She had graciously accepted my simple gift and in turn had given us a much nicer gift.
After fighting a physical illness for 12 years, Sharon passed away when she was only 38. A few years ago, as I put her Christmas tree skirt around our tree and thought about her, the tree skirt became symbolic of the gift of the Atonement the Savior offers us. No matter how good we desire to be, we are all mortal, with flaws and weaknesses. We are imperfect, like the simple tree skirt I had given Sharon.
In comparison to the beauty of the Savior’s life, we will always fall short. But if we do our best to offer the Savior a broken heart and a contrite spirit, He in turn offers us the blessings of His beautiful Atonement. We receive something much greater than our gift to Him.
I am grateful for the special reminder of His Atonement the tree skirt has become for me.

Leola Chandler felt overwhelmed by caring for her ill husband and their four children. So she decided to set aside time each Tuesday to attend a nearby temple. It became a source of peace and power in her life.
One day she heard that a few elderly sisters in her ward desperately wanted to attend the temple, but they had no means of transportation. Leola offered to give them a ride. For the next 40 years, she rarely went to the temple alone.2
Leola was blessed, and she blessed others when she offered to take them with her to the temple.

Many years ago, I moved from the small market town of my birth in Yorkshire to London to become a student. It was a great cultural shock, even in Church terms; I was catapulted from a small branch into a thriving multinational ward. There was a particular sister I remember for all the very best reasons; she loved the Lord. The Lord has commanded us to attend church on the sabbath, and she was always there. When the bishop needed any help, this sister always volunteered, and when he announced that the ward choir needed more members, she joined.
This kind sister had a unique voice; it was loud and shrill and always a fraction off key. She sang with enthusiasm, despite her rather obvious lack of natural talent, and went to every practice. She also paid to have singing lessons.
I’ve never forgotten her because she taught me several important lessons. The choir leader was a professional opera singer and I marvelled at her patience and understanding, and how she didn’t let an obviously difficult situation dampen her enthusiasm. But most of all, I marvelled at the sister who couldn’t sing. She obviously loved the Lord with all her heart. Anything that was asked of her she willingly did. She did not use any excuse for not accomplishing what was asked. The choir needed members and she was going to do her bit. She worshipped God in song, though it was not one of her talents. She sang the same way that she loved the Lord—with all her heart.
She taught me to live the gospel as she did, happily doing whatever was asked. I may not do it as well as someone else could do it, I may not get through each day perfectly in tune with the Spirit, but I should keep trying and refuse to make excuses for not giving my best—even when my best falls short of perfection.
This sister has probably passed away by now, and joined the heavenly choir, and been gifted with the voice of an angel. To my mind, she has earned it.