Gospel Story Finder

When the elders were introduced to us, I was very excited. The sister missionaries had told us about the priesthood, and I was in awe of the elders when they came. I felt the greatest respect for someone who held the priesthood of God. It was such a new thing for me. The children loved them instantly.
Yes, we were baptized. We had knelt in prayer and for the first time, self-consciously and timidly, and prayed together vocally. In simplicity and humility we asked our Heavenly Father if these things were true, and, in answer, received the warm, sweet assurances that only the Holy Ghost can bring.

If someone came to you right now and said that if you did everything in your power to live the gospel for the next ten years and then, your brother or sister would give up bad habits, repent, and return to all the blessings available in the Church, would you be willing to do that for them? Yes, you would. Just assume that’s what you are doing. You are setting an example, being loving and respectful, and learning all you can about the Savior for your own salvation as well as that of your family. How long it will take is really not important. Would you put a time limit on your efforts?

(From letters the Prophet wrote while in prison): God grant that I may have the privilege of seeing once more my lovely family in the enjoyment of the sweets of liberty and social life; to press them to my bosom and kiss their lovely cheeks would fill my heart with unspeakable gratitude. … Tell little Joseph he must be a good boy. Father loves him with a perfect love; he is the eldest—must not hurt those that are smaller than he, but care for them. … I think of all of them and pray for them all.

May–June 1834 Joseph marches with Zion’s Camp from Ohio to Jackson County, Missouri, to try to reclaim the Saints’ land from which they had been driven.

My husband Kevin and I were baptized last May. Soon afterward he was called to the position of branch magazine representative. The New Era is a wonderful, uplifting, “good read.” The stories and addresses build our testimonies. Our first child is expected soon, and sometimes when I’m low or moody, I reach for the New Era and my sad heart or dampened spirit finds something inspiring to give it new courage.
Linda GrayFawley, Southampton, England

(97) A young bishop counsels troubled ward members to engage in basic practices of faith.

President Harold B. Lee was the kind of person who so knew the Savior and had been a servant for such a long period of time that he knew instinctively what the Savior would say or do in any given situation.
For example, shortly after becoming President of the Church, President Lee held his first press conference as the new prophet of the Church. The reporters posed for President Lee what could have been a difficult question: “What is your position with regard to the Vietnam war?” You recall that at that time the war was underway, and there were those who supported it and those who were against our involvement.
If President Lee said, “I am in favor of our government’s position,” the reporters could say, “How strange—a spiritual leader in favor of war?” If he answered, “I am against our government’s involvement,” the reporters could also raise doubts by saying, “How unusual—a religious leader who pretends to support his government, but does not?”
When the people of the press presented the question, President Lee responded as a servant of the Savior would, knowing how to use the very words of the Lord in an inspired manner. His answer disarmed them, impressed them. As I remember, he said, “We, together with the entire Christian world, abhor war.” And he went on, “The Savior said, ‘In the world ye shall have tribulations.’ But He also said, ‘In me ye might have peace’.” (See John 16:33.) Continuing, President Lee quoted from John 14: “‘Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I [peace] unto you.’” (Verse 27.)
And then President Lee taught a great principle. And he said to them: “The Savior was not speaking of the kind of peace which is won with armies or navies or force; nor was He speaking of the kind of peace which can be negotiated in the halls of congresses. He was speaking of the kind of peace we each can have in our hearts only when we live His commandments to such a degree that we know He is pleased with us.” President Lee, speaking as a true servant of the Prince of Peace, had answered them with inspiration.

On the morning of Thursday, July 20, 1837, the merchant ship Garrick slipped quietly into the River Mersey and anchored opposite the bustling English seaport of Liverpool. To the uninformed bystander, the vessel, newly arrived from New York, was no different from any other. It was the dawn of the Victorian age, and Liverpool was already establishing an ascendancy as the greatest English port, which it retained for half a century.
But among the weary passengers were seven men whose presence made the Garrick far from insignificant—men whose simple but provocative message was soon to send thousands of English men, women, and children to the United States. The seven Americans were Mormons—the first missionaries to preach the restored gospel in this dispensation outside North America. Their unheralded arrival and the dramatic events of the next few months came to form a fascinating chapter in the history of northwest England and left an indelible stamp on The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Today their names stand boldly among the spiritual giants of the Church: Heber C. Kimball, grandfather of President Spencer W. Kimball; Joseph Fielding; Orson Hyde; Willard Richards; John Snyder; John Goodson; and Isaac Russell.

Two days after David got home from his mission, he went to the fitness center his family had joined while he’d been away. An hour later, after working out and taking a shower, he stood with a towel wrapped around him, in front of a mirror. He began to blow-dry his hair. A guy his age approached the mirror, spread shaving cream on himself and began to shave his chest with a razor.

David had never seen anyone shave their chest before—he couldn’t help but stare.

The guy noticed David in the mirror. “How’s it going?” he asked. He turned around and stuck out his hand. “Brad Eppley here. Commodity trading.”

They shook hands. “I’m David Warner.”

“David, great to meet you. I notice you’ve got hair on your chest. The only reason I mention it is because most of the guys in the club shave their chests.”

“I didn’t have hair on my chest when I was 12. So why is a hairless chest such a big advantage now?”

Brad flexed and glanced at his reflection. “Shows muscle definition. And girls love it. With girls, appearance is everything. You know, like the kind of car you have. By the way, what do you drive?”

“A ’78 Pontiac.”

“That ugly green bomb that’s dripping oil all over the parking lot is yours? What do you do, wear a mask when you get into it so nobody will know who you are?”

“It’s not so bad. It gets me around.”

“Yeah, like that’s really the purpose of a car. You seem so out of it. When’s the last time you went out with a girl?”

“It’s been two years.”

Brad threw up his hands. “Well, there you have it! I’m not surprised.”

“The reason I haven’t dated for two years is because I’ve been on a mission for my church.”

“Are you a Mormon?”

“Yes, I am.”

“How much do they pay you to do that?”

“I paid my own way.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You want to know what I’ve accomplished in the last two years? Plenty, I’ll tell you. Right now I drive a BMW, I live in the best condo in town, I’ve got the best sound system they make, I go out with the best looking girls. And what have you got to show for your two years?”

“I’m grateful for the experiences I had.”

“What kind of experiences?”

“Having my prayers answered, knowing that Heavenly Father loved the people we were working with.”

“Well, that’s all fine and good, but tell me this, can you deposit experiences like that in a bank?”

“No, but I wouldn’t trade my mission for any amount of money.”

“Look, no offense intended, but maybe you’re not really right for this club. I mean, there’s plenty of other places to work out where you’d feel more comfortable. Like outside, for example, where all those biblical things are—you know, like animals and flowers, things like that. I mean it’s just a thought.”

“You may be right. Is everyone here like you?”

“No, not everybody. For me, though, this club is perfect. They’re open every day of the year, even Christmas. Okay, I admit it, I’m a little on the compulsive side. I come here every day. I have a routine—Monday, abs; Tuesdays, pects …”

“Abs?”

“Abdominal muscles. Pects is pectoral muscles. You don’t get around much, do you? By the way, do Mormons have monasteries? I mean, if they do, you’d be perfect. Well, anyway, I come here every day. If I miss one day I really feel it. Like the time my aunt died. They made me go to the funeral. Yeah, this is a great place. Cheyenne and I come every day. You might have noticed her. You can’t help noticing her. But don’t get any ideas. I’m the man of her dreams, the key to her heart and, really, if you think about it, the hope of her future.”

“Well, good for her. Excuse me.” David went into the locker room to get dressed.

Brad finished shaving his chest, wiped off the excess shaving cream with a towel, and then smeared a white cream on his chest. He came out to talk to David. “You want to know why I’m doing this now?” he asked.

David sighed. “Well, not really, but go ahead.”

“To rid myself of razor stubble. Let me tell you, it’s a big problem. You put on your shirt and it’s like having sandpaper on your chest. This cream is supposed to take care of that. It’s the first time I tried it. Wish me luck.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Just as David was about to leave, Brad suddenly yelled, “Aaaah!” He rushed into the locker room area. “I’m having some kind of allergic reaction! My whole chest is on fire. I’m going to take another shower to get this stuff off me. Look, can you go find Cheyenne and tell her what I’m going through. Tell her not to worry about me though. She’ll be in the snack bar drinking a large tomato juice. That’s all she ever drinks.”

It was easy for David to find Cheyenne. Brad was right—she was beautiful and she was drinking a large tomato juice.

“I have a message from the man of your dreams,” David said, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t dream much actually. Sometimes though, when I have a pepperoni pizza late at night, I have a recurring nightmare.”

“By any chance is your nightmare about a guy with an absolutely hairless chest?”

She laughed. “How did you know?”

“I met him. He told me to tell you he was having a reaction to the cream he put on his chest to get rid of razor stubble.”

“Poor baby,” she snickered. She pointed to a full glass of tomato juice on the other side of the table. “You want some tomato juice? I ordered one for Brad, but it looks like he’ll be a while.”

“You might not want to be seen with me.”

“Why’s that?”

“See that car out there? It’s mine.”

“You’ve been around Brad too much. Sit down and drink the tomato juice.”

He sat down and took a sip. “This is the first time I’ve been alone with a girl for two years.”

She looked worried. “What were you in for?”

“In for?”

“You don’t look like the armed robbery type. And with that car of yours it couldn’t have been auto theft.”

“I wasn’t in prison.”

“Sorry. What were you doing for two years?”

“I was a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

“The Mormons, right? That sounds like a nice thing to do. What was it like?”

He told her about his mission and then said, “I’m really grateful for the experiences I had.”

She looked up from her tomato juice. “You’re the first guy I’ve met who said he was grateful for anything. What are you grateful for? What did you get out of your mission?”

“I found out what’s really important in life?”

“Which is?”

“The people we meet every day are important.”

“Why?”

“Because every one of them is our brother or our sister.”

“That makes you my brother then, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a teasing smile, but then looked into his eyes, recognized something very deep and serious, became uncomfortable, and looked away.

They talked for another 20 minutes, until Brad came in and sat down. “You still here?” he asked David.

“I asked him to stay,” Cheyenne said. “I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

“Is that right? Well, you should see his chest. It’s an absolute hairy mess I’ll tell you.”

“Why do you think I care about things like that? It doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

“Well thanks a lot, after I slave all day. What’s this guy got that I don’t have?”

“Gratitude. You have everything a guy could want, but I’ve never heard you say you were grateful for any of it.”

“Hey, look, everything I’ve got is like teetering on the edge of a huge cliff and any moment it can all be swept away. I have to keep fighting just to stay where I am. There’s no time for gratitude in my life.”

“Are you grateful that I came into your life?”

He paused. “It’s not like you don’t get anything from our relationship. I’ve introduced you to some very influential people.”

“Are you grateful for anything?” Cheyenne asked.

“I’d be grateful if you’d quit talking about this.”

There was an uneasy silence. “I’d better go,” David said.

“Let me walk you to your car,” she said.

“Don’t even go near that car,” Brad said. “What if somebody sees you?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

David and Cheyenne walked out to his car. “Beautiful sunset,” he said.

They stopped to look at the sunset. “You find something every day to be grateful for, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Even when things are going bad?”

“There’s always something to be grateful for.” He opened his car door. “I’d better go.”

“What if sometime I decide I want a little more gratitude in my life? What would I have to do?”

“You could start by coming to church with me.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard.”

“I could come by for you this Sunday.”

“Actually I think it’d be better if I drove myself. Brad gets kind of crazy with jealousy sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure. Church starts at nine. Do you know where it is?”

“I pass by it every day on my way to work.”

“I’ll wait for you at the door.”

Brad came running out. “We need to go now. Get in the car.”

“See you.” She turned and walked toward Brad’s BMW. “Brad, did you notice the sunset?”

“What about it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not like I’ve never seen a sunset before. I mean, it happens every day.”

“I think today I will choose to be grateful for a sunset.”

“How can you talk about sunsets when my chest is still on fire?” They got in the car and drove off. David stayed a minute more to look at the sunset, and then he drove home.

The happy home is one where the family lives together, works together, plays together, and prays together. … Love is expressed often through actions and by the spoken word. We should not be like the Scotsman who, at the death of his wife, was receiving expressions of sympathy from his friends. One neighbor commented on what a fine person she was. Jock replied, “Aye, she was a good woman, and I came near telling her so once or twice.”—President N. Eldon Tanner

We have 10 children. One unsettled Sunday morning when our family was young, my wife was in sacrament meeting. As usual, I was away on Sunday. Our children took up much of a row.
Sister Walker, a lovely, gray-haired grandmother who raised 12 children, quietly moved from several rows back and slid into the row among our restless children. After the meeting, my wife thanked her for the help.
Sister Walker said, “You have your hands full, don’t you?” My wife nodded. Sister Walker then patted her on the hand and said, “Your hands full now; your heart full later!” How prophetic was her quiet comment. That is what grandmothers do!

Let me share with you the true account of one sister, Ellen Yates from Grantsville, Utah. Early in October, 10 years ago, she kissed her husband, Leon, good-bye as he left to go to work in Salt Lake City. This would be the last time she would see Leon alive. He had a collision with a young man 20 years of age who was late for his first job and had tried to pass a slower vehicle, resulting in a head-on collision that killed them both instantly. Sister Yates said that after two compassionate highway patrolmen told her the news, she plunged into shock and grief.
She records, “As I tried to look ahead in life, all I could see was darkness and pain.” It turned out that her husband’s best friend was the bishop of the young man’s ward. The bishop called Sister Yates and told her that the young man’s mother, Jolayne Willmore, wanted to talk with her. She remembers “being shocked because I was so centered on my grief and pain that I had not even thought about the young man and his family. I suddenly realized that here was a mother who was in as much or more pain than I was. I quickly gave my permission … for a visit.”
When Brother and Sister Willmore arrived, they expressed their great sorrow that their son was responsible for Leon’s death and presented her with a picture of the Savior holding a little girl in His arms. Sister Yates says, “When times become too hard to bear, I look at this picture and remember that Christ knows me personally. He knows my loneliness and my trials.” One scripture that comforts Sister Yates is “Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you.”
Each October Sister Yates and Sister Willmore (both of whom are here together in the Conference Center today) go to the temple together and offer thanks for the Atonement of Jesus Christ, for the plan of salvation, for eternal families, and for the covenants that bind together husbands and wives and families on both sides of the veil. Sister Yates concludes, “Through this trial, I have felt the love of my Father in Heaven and my Savior in greater abundance than I had ever felt before.” She testifies that “there is no grief, no pain, no sickness so great that the Atonement of Christ and the love of Christ cannot heal.” What a wonderful example of love and forgiveness these two sisters have demonstrated. It has allowed the Atonement of Jesus Christ to be efficacious in their lives.

As the Church quickly became central to Frederick and Rebecca’s lives, the impact on their family was immediate. Frederick was ordained an elder right after his baptism and confirmation. The very next day, he enthusiastically accepted an assignment to leave within a few weeks to serve a mission with Oliver Cowdery. They anticipated the mission would last three weeks; in reality it became a 10-month trip to Missouri. His long absence from home was the first of many such periods for Rebecca. Because of Frederick’s missionary efforts and his calling into the First Presidency, he was frequently away. Rebecca, like many early Mormon women, spent long months tending their home and raising their children without the help of her husband.

The Altieri family was later sealed together in the Washington D.C. Temple. “When we were sealed, Mom and Dad had to go somewhere for about three hours,” Michael remembered. “We stayed in this nursery place. We picked out white clothes and put them on. A temple lady showed us a movie that explained what being sealed was all about. At first she put in the wrong film. It was in Spanish. I thought maybe we needed to learn to speak Spanish. But then she put in the film in English. After the film, we went into the sealing room. Some other people were there, even the stake president. Then we were sealed, and I was so happy!”
Chandler still has the white ribbon she wore in her hair that day in the temple. “We were sealed so that we can be together for all eternity.”

“I also talked to Alberto Salazar, the great road and track racer, in Rome last year when we were on the bus together. We got into a long discussion on the Church, and I called up my friend Wade Bell in Oregon, who was on the 1968 Olympic team and was seventies quorum president in Oregon. He gave Alberto a copy of the Book of Mormon.”

Ben stood with his friends after school in the hot sun as they waited for the bus home. He wished for the thousandth time that there was some shade at the bus stop!
“Hey, here comes Frankie,” one of his friends said. Frankie was part of their group.
“Dude, your shoes are so old they must’ve been made out of dinosaur skin!” Vince said once Frankie got closer.
Ben laughed at the joke as he glanced down at Frankie’s feet. Yup, his friend had on the same pair of tennis shoes he’d worn all school year. It was almost summer vacation. By now, the ratty shoes had holes in them and were falling apart.
They liked to give him a hard time about it, but Frankie always laughed it off.
Sure enough, Frankie was chuckling along with everybody else. But then Ben noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Frankie’s smile seemed different somehow. Like he was trying to cover up that he really was upset.
Something cold turned in Ben’s stomach.
His friends teased Frankie about the old shoes until the bus rolled up. This time, though, Ben didn’t laugh with them. He couldn’t help but feel like they’d hurt Frankie’s feelings.
As Ben plopped down onto the hot green vinyl seat of the school bus, he kept remembering the look on Frankie’s face from a few minutes earlier. Frankie walked to the back of the bus and chose a seat by himself.
Ben looked down at his lap. Had they gone too far? He knew Frankie’s family didn’t have a lot of money. In fact, now he wondered if those old scuffed shoes were his only pair besides church shoes.
Even though Ben had snagged a window seat on the bus, he couldn’t enjoy the ride home.
The next day Ben’s bad feeling grew worse. He thought about how he would feel if his friends made fun of what he wore. How often had they done that to Frankie?
And then he saw his friend at school. Ben’s eyes widened. Frankie was wearing new shoes! Not just new shoes, but cool new shoes. Ben felt another stab of guilt as he wondered if Frankie’s family could afford them.
At recess he grabbed a basketball and went over to shoot some hoops with Frankie. “So, where’d you buy those shoes?” Ben asked. “They’re awesome!”
Frankie shook his head and said quietly, “I didn’t. DJ bought them for me.”
Ben nearly dropped the basketball. DJ was one of the kids they hung out with at school. A kid who, now that Ben thought about it, never teased Frankie.
While the rest of them had made fun of Frankie, DJ did something nice instead.
I’m supposed to be Frankie’s friend, Ben thought. Why hadn’t I been nice too?
Ben cleared his throat and stopped bouncing the ball. “Hey. So, um, I’m really sorry about yesterday. You know. At the bus stop. That wasn’t nice of us.”
Frankie just shrugged. “It’s OK.”
“Hey, wanna play a game of one-on-one?” He passed the ball to Frankie. “You can start!”
Frankie’s face lit up in a smile, and Ben knew how he wanted to act from then on. He wanted to help make his friends happy every chance he could.

When my brother, Keb, was a teenager, he regularly helped the elderly in our neighborhood. At Christmastime he made three-dimensional Christmas tree cakes, the kind that take forever to decorate because each branch has to be frosted separately. His present to me came when he asked me to help him secretly deliver the gifts to our neighbors. We carefully placed each gift so it would be found, and then we ran. Boy, did we run! And we were never caught. His example of service is something I can never repay or replace.
—Anita Brady Bergman

“It sure takes a long time to wait a few minutes!” Daniel muttered to himself, glancing at the schoolroom clock. Just thinking about picking apples after school with Grandpa made him feel like jumping up and down and hollering. Even hard work with Grandpa was fun.
“Class!” Mrs. Webb waited until everyone was quiet. “Your assignment for language arts is to write a story about an ancestor. Remember that every story must have a dilemma—a problem to solve. Any questions?”
Daniel’s heart sank. I’m tired of hearing about ancestors, he thought. I don’t care a scrap about mine. How can I? I’m adopted! And I don’t even have to hunt for a dilemma—I am one!
It seemed lately that every talk in church and every Primary lesson was about ancestors. “I can’t write any names on this chart,” he had told his Primary teacher. “I don’t even know who my real parents are, let alone my grandparents.”
“But you’ve been sealed to your mom and dad and legally adopted,” she said. “In the eyes of the Lord, your mom and dad are your real parents, and their ancestors are yours.”
“I guess I just feel that that’s not fair or honest. I wish I knew who I really am.”
Daniel’s memories were interrupted by the final school bell, and he plodded sadly off to Grandpa’s house. Even the cookie-and-milk snack he got there didn’t cheer him up. When Grandpa asked, “Why the sad face?” Daniel burst into tears.
Grandpa sat on the rocking chair and pulled Daniel onto his lap. “Trouble at school? Hurtin’ someplace? Why not tell your old grandpap all about it?”
Never before had Daniel mentioned his worries about being adopted. Now he blurted out the whole sad story. Grandpa listened quietly. “Oh, Grandpa, I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “A big fourth-grade guy shouldn’t be bawling like this.”
“Well, he should if he needs to. Even old men sometimes do.”
“I bet you never did.”
“Oh yes I have! I’ve even shed happy tears.”
“How can anyone cry about being happy?”
“I can remember being pretty weepy when I first saw you. I was grateful that you were going to be part of my family. Your parents had been awfully sad because they had no children. You were an answer to all our prayers.”
Daniel and Grandpa walked to the orchard and began to pick apples. One happy idea led to others, and they were soon talking about family fun and activities. Then Daniel suddenly stopped working. He stood thoughtfully, holding an apple in each hand. “Hey, how did this happen? These were both growing on the same tree, but they aren’t alike at all. They’re even different colors.”
Grandpa explained about grafting—how a branch from one tree can be joined to another, how it can become so much a part of the tree that it’s hard to tell that it was ever separate. “The whole tree is supported and fed by the same roots,” Grandpa said. “It’s really quite a miracle.”
“Why, Grandpa, that’s just like me, isn’t it? And now I’m growing on your family tree. That would make a good story for me to write, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I surely do—a story with a very happy ending.”
“I’m glad I found out about grafting. And, Grandpa, you must be the very best root in the whole world.”
“And no family tree has a better branch than you,” Grandpa said, giving Daniel a grandpa-sized hug.

I am writing to thank you so much for the April 1979 song “Walk Tall, You’re a Daughter of God.” It came out at a time when I was having difficulties realizing who I am and what my mission on this earth is. It truly inspired me and brought light to my eyes. It taught me that I (along with every other young woman) am a special creation of our Father in Heaven. This song has become a favorite in the Kinston North Carolina Stake. It has brightened my days and strengthened my testimony.
Joanne HawesGoldsboro, North Carolina

In Nauvoo, the Prophet Joseph Smith received important revelations from Jesus Christ.
Joseph Smith also learned that people could be sealed to their families in the temple. Before this, people didn’t know that they could be with their families after they died.
The Saints were so happy. Now they knew that their families could be together forever!