Gospel Story Finder

One summer when I was a teenager, I became very discouraged. It seemed that all my friends were taller and better at sports than I. I thought that growing taller would solve my problems, naively thinking being bigger would somehow make me better at whatever I wanted to do.
Worried about my lack of height, I went to my tallest brother and asked him what I could do to grow taller. I figured he would know the answer to my question. What he said surprised me: “Obey your mother. Whatever she asks you to do, do it without waiting.”
My confidence in my brother was so strong that I went to a storage room, stood against the wall, and made a pencil mark to record my height.
For the remainder of the summer days, my mother’s wish or slightest hint was my command. Almost immediately the feelings of growth began to fill me with satisfaction. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of this before. My mother may have spent the summer in shock, but it didn’t matter. I was growing. Anticipation of the results that awaited me at the conclusion of my vacation brought me happiness all summer long.
When fall came I returned to my measuring spot near the storage room. Quickly I located the mark on the wall. Standing next to it, pencil in hand, I made a second mark, turned and looked to see how much I had grown. You can imagine my disappointment when only one slightly darker mark could be found.
I went to my brother to get an explanation about what had happened. After hearing my concern, he asked me an important question: “How do you feel inside?” My inward feelings of growth were undeniable. This I explained to him. He then reminded me that Heavenly Father looks on the heart, not the outward appearance (see 1 Sam. 16:7).
It was really true; I had grown. The willing and obedient service rendered had increased my ability to understand that the true measure of our success or growth becomes apparent to us when we do our best to willingly serve others.

We also took many visiting leaders to BYU and to the Missionary Training Center. When they saw the missionaries, who all looked so sharp in their white shirts and ties or dresses, they were impressed. Often they had tears in their eyes as they looked out over the missionaries going to their countries. Once, a leader of another religion asked Elder Dallin H. Oaks, “Tell me, how do you do it? How do you get your young people to leave their goals behind for two years, go out into the world at their own expense, and suffer rejection and hardship as they preach your religion? How do you do it?”
Elder Oaks’s answer was, “It’s a miracle, isn’t it?”

As a little boy, Harold B. Lee started to climb a fence. He heard a voice saying, “Harold, don’t go over there.” He could see no one. He realized the Spirit was warning him of danger, so he didn’t go. That experience taught him the Lord was watching over him.

I thought I would have a great time during my first day at a new school, but I didn’t. Things were really different. I went home and told my mom and dad about it. My dad asked me if I would like to have a priesthood blessing. I said I would, and he gave me a blessing. The next day, I had a great day at school.

I started studying the gospel very carefully. After four months of intense investigation, I decided to be baptized.
My life soon turned upside down. I lost my job and had to end my medical residency. As my interests and values started to change, my old friends started to disappear. But hardest of all for me to accept was that my parents were against my baptism.
I loved my parents dearly. They had given everything they had to provide me with the best education and environment. They were proud of my accomplishments. But when they heard my decision, they were shocked. It was the first time I had wanted to do something they did not agree with, and it was very difficult for all of us. But I knew that God wanted me to be baptized. So even if my family would deny me, I couldn’t deny my Heavenly Father.
My family did not accept the invitation to my baptism, so on my baptism day I went alone to the church. There were many people at the baptism, but I felt my only “family members” were the two missionaries. Then as I turned to go to the baptismal font, I saw my mother and brother. It was the happiest day of my life. The presence of my family was like a beam of sunshine that brought me the hope of a brighter tomorrow.

Now, as Elder Chitalu, in the mission office he met Sister Stacie Sturt, mission leader for Kenya Nairobi West Mission. She captured this beautiful photo of Elder Kennedy Chitalu standing in front of the picture of his much younger self, cradled in the arms of his Savior. Now he wears a name tag as a representative of Jesus Christ. It is his turn to wrap his arms around others and help bring them to Christ. He testifies: “I know and stand as a solemn witness that Jesus Christ is our Savior, and I know that His Atonement has healing power for all kinds of afflictions”.

In 1926, LeGrand responded to a call from President Heber J. Grant for short-term missionaries. Elder Richards left his business and family to serve six months in another part of the country. In 1929 he responded again, when President Grant asked him to sell his home and business and move to California, where he served first as a bishop of the Glendale Ward and then as president of the Hollywood Stake. Such a call was quite unusual by this point in Church history, but Elder Richards said when the call was delivered to him by a messenger: “Tell the President that I think enough of the Lord, the Church, and him that if this is what he wants, I will go.”

Not all subliminal messages are negative. Chad Hawkins, of the Fruit Heights Fourth Ward, Fruit Heights Stake, uses them in his temple drawings to give them an extra, spiritual dimension. He’ll add a nebulous drawing of Moroni to the clouds, or perhaps a heavenly hand among the trees surrounding the temple.
Chad started drawing when he was six, and now his temple drawings have become popular enough to make into prints to sell and help him earn money for his mission.
Chad doesn’t spend all his time drawing, however. He also likes running, skiing, and playing goalie on his high school soccer team.

One of the touching stories from my time as a corrections officer is when I saw a mother reunite with her children. She hadn’t seen her children for four or five years. You could see in the eyes of the children the tears and the hurt from the years of being apart. The reunion was overwhelming, but as a corrections officer, you don’t show emotion. I found that really hard. I had to actually look away to compose myself and get myself together. Being a mother myself, I couldn’t imagine being away from my children for years and not be able to see them, talk to them, or even share how I’m feeling with them.

Elder Robert L. Simpson was impressed by the faith of an old Maori brother in New Zealand.
As the missionaries came to his humble little fishing shack located off the beaten track, he hurried to find an envelope in which he had stuffed a sizable sum of hard-earned money. He promptly handed the envelope containing the money to the missionaries.
Inside the envelope was a letter from the mission office addressed to the man. He could not read English, but he could recognize the figures contained in the letter. He thought the mission needed the cash amount mentioned for some special purpose, and he had it all ready.
After the missionaries translated the letter for him, he was surprised to learn that the letter was a receipt for last year’s tithing. His faith was so strong that he was ready and willing to pay the same amount all over again if the Lord’s servants needed it for His work.

After high school graduation, I worked with a young man who was a recently returned missionary. One day we began talking about religion, and I was amazed by how much he knew about the Savior. “Where did you learn all that?” I asked. A few days later, he presented me with a copy of Jesus the Christ by Elder James E. Talmage of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Not long after that, he changed jobs and I didn’t see him again.
I was almost finished reading the book when I heard that an LDS friend of mine was going on a mission. I called him and told him what I was reading. He was the one who had invited me to church on that Sunday when I showed up in a T-shirt.

I was born and raised in a small city in Chile. When I was 12 years old, I saw the missionaries for the first time, and I was curious. Then one day a classmate at school told me that he and his family had become members of the Church. He invited me, and I attended all Sunday meetings and Tuesday activities for several months.

Our branch was new, and because I attended practically from the beginning, everyone thought I was a member. After six months I told one of the missionaries I was not, because I thought the missionaries were interested only in families.

The missionaries tried to involve my family, but my parents and siblings were not interested. They invited me to be baptized, but since I was 12, I needed my parents’ permission. I thought my father would say I needed to wait until I was 18, but he said, “I have seen my son wake up every Sunday morning while his brothers and sisters keep sleeping, dress up in his best clothes, and walk to the chapel. If my son will be responsible with this decision, you have my permission.” I couldn’t believe it. I was in heaven in that moment. So I was baptized the following day.

Eternal perspective and temple covenants have also strengthened Knud and Bodil Christensen’s marriage. Knud manages an electronics and appliance store, and Bodil teaches school. Health problems brought one trial after another, recalls Bodil, now Relief Society president of the Herning Branch.

“There have been many mountains for us to climb, but we could always count on each other for support,” says Bodil. This understanding alludes to her difficulty with childbirth, Knud’s struggle with cancer and subsequent chemotherapy and recovery, their infant daughter Katharine’s meningitis, and the faith and gratitude these have all brought to the Christensen household.

“Going to the temple for strength has provided a spiritual core to our marriage,” adds Knud. He is a man of quiet strength, yet he and his outgoing wife are equally yoked.

Some years ago near the end of a plane trip that I was on on an assignment, the stewardess came along asking what we wanted as a refreshment, as a drink. And I told her that I would take a 7-Up or some lemon drink.
As she brought it to me and handed me the drink, she noticed my tie pin. And on my tie pin, which I have here in my hand—we were using these in the Scottish Mission years ago—there was the crest of the royal family of England. But in the center of that crest we had emblazed the London Temple. And so on this tie pin was the temple with that crest around it. As the stewardess handed me the 7-Up, she said, “My, that’s an unusual tie pin. What is on it?”
And I said, “That’s a temple.”
And this young lady said, “A temple? A temple of what?”
And I said, “A temple of the Lord.”
And she said, “A what?”
And I said, “It’s a temple of the Lord.”
And I could see some interest in her, and she said, ”What church do you belong to?”
I told her of our Church, and then I said to her, because I could see there was some interest, “If you will give me your name and address, I will have some young men come by and call on you, and they will tell you about this temple and about temples.”
She looked at me rather strangely and walked away. Then in a few moments she came back and handed me a little slip of paper with her name, Penny Harryman, with a Los Angeles address.
I called the mission president, and I told him, as we always do, “Send two of your best. I want you to go out and visit with this young lady,” because I had said to her, “I’ll have some young men come and see you, and if you do what they will ask you to do and listen to them, I promise you that you can have the greatest blessings that could come into your life.”
A little over a year later, a telephone call came into my office one day, and a girl’s voice said, “My name is Penny Harryman. Do you remember me?”
And I said, “Of course I do.”
She said, “Could you arrange to marry my fiancé and me in the Salt Lake Temple if we could arrange the time?”
I said, “Of course I would.”
And while I was sealing this young lady to this young man that she had met during that course of events, I found that her mother was walking around Temple Square in Salt Lake, wondering what we were doing to her daughter in the temple because she wasn’t permitted to be there.

When Miss Nonchello asked the class to bring a treat to share in honor of Thanksgiving, Ying was excited to ask her mother to bake bread.
“I will make a special bread for your class,” Mom said before Ying went to bed that night.
Ying spent the night wondering what kind of bread Mom would make. She pictured herself taking cinnamon bread to class. Everyone would like cinnamon bread. Or what if Mom made honey bread, like Emily’s mother made? Her classmates would like that too.
Thinking about it made Ying’s tummy rumble. The next morning, Ying imagined she could smell the aroma of baking bread. Then her eyes popped open. She really was smelling something!
Ying jumped out of bed and got ready for school. Hurrying to the kitchen, Ying saw Mom wrapping something in foil.
“What did you make, Mom?” Ying asked eagerly.
“Bread,” Mom replied as Ying peeked under the foil.
Ying jumped back, staring at the flat pieces of bread she saw. It wasn’t honey bread or cinnamon bread. She didn’t think it was bread at all!
“That isn’t bread,” Ying said, disappointed. “It’s like pancakes.”
“Well, in the Chinese culture, we consider it like bread,” Mom said.
“My classmates won’t want to eat it,” Ying said with a frown. She was worried about seeming different.
“You never know,” Mom said, smiling. “Different can be good, and this bread is part of our family’s heritage.”
With a grumble, Ying took the Chinese bread to school. She knew Mom wanted her to be proud of her family, but she could only imagine her classmates laughing when they saw her treat.
A few of the students brought pumpkin pie. Others brought popcorn and candy. Seeing how different her treat was, Ying tried to hide the bread behind the large punch bowl at the back of the classroom.
“What’s that?” Steve asked.
“Bread,” Ying murmured.
Before Ying could stop him, Steve opened the foil and took a sniff.
“Ooohh!” Steve said loudly.
A crowd of classmates gathered around to stare at the flat pieces of bread. A few tears formed in Ying’s eyes as she braced herself for laughter.
“That looks wonderful!” Miss Nonchello said. “Who made this?”
“My mom did,” Ying said, blushing.
“It smells delicious,” Miss Nonchello said. “Ying, why don’t you tell us about it?”
“My mom said it was Chinese bread,” Ying said quietly. “But it doesn’t look like bread to me.”
“I think everyone is excited to try some,” Miss Nonchello said.
And with that, the feast began. Ying’s classmates all took a piece of the bread. Afraid to try it herself, Ying nibbled on popcorn and pumpkin pie.
“This is good!” Steve called out.
“Yeah!” Emily said as she took another piece of bread. “It’s even better than my mom’s honey bread!”
“Really? You think so?” Ying asked.
“We all think it’s great,” Miss Nonchello said with a smile. “Come have some, Ying.”
Ying nervously lifted one piece of the flat bread from the pile and took a bite. It was delicious!
“I guess Mom was right,” Ying thought. “Different can be good.” She smiled as she took another bite, proud of her family and their delicious heritage.

I spent several days last year in the northeastern part of the United States visiting American and Church history sites, attending meetings with our missionaries and our members, and visiting government and business leaders.
On Sunday, October 20, I spoke to a large gathering near Boston, Massachusetts. As I was speaking, I was prompted to say, “I plead with you … to pray for this country, for our leaders, for our people, and for the families that live in this great nation founded by God.”
I also said that America and many of the nations of the earth, as in times past, are at another critical crossroads and need our prayers.
My plea was not in my prepared remarks. Those words came to me as I felt the Spirit prompt me to invite those present to pray for their country and their leaders.
Today I expand my call for prayer to all people from every country around the world. No matter how you pray or to whom you pray, please exercise your faith—whatever your faith may be—and pray for your country and for your national leaders. As I said last October in Massachusetts, we stand today at a major crossroads in history, and the nations of the earth are in desperate need of divine inspiration and guidance. This is not about politics or policy. This is about peace and the healing that can come to individual souls as well as to the soul of countries—their cities, towns, and villages—through the Prince of Peace and the source of all healing, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Dumb Old Casey Is a Fat Tree Barbara Bottner Casey does not get a lead in the ballet. She does get the respect of her classmates—and herself. A delightful, true-to-life story.6–9 years

In October 1833, only a few months after the laying of the cornerstone for the Kirtland Temple, the Prophet Joseph Smith went on a mission to Canada with Sidney Rigdon. In all, the Prophet served fourteen short missions. On the way to Canada, he received the following revelation:
“My friends Sidney and Joseph, your families are well; they are in mine hands, and I will do with them as seemeth me good. …
“Therefore, follow me, and listen to the counsel which I shall give unto you.
“… I have much people in this place, …
“Therefore, … lift up your voices unto this people; speak the thoughts that I shall put into your hearts, and you shall not be confounded before men;
“For it shall be given you in the very hour, yea, in the very moment, what ye shall say. …
“Therefore, continue your journey and let your hearts rejoice.” (D&C 100:1–3, 5–6, 12.)
According to the Prophet Joseph’s journal, once he and Sidney Rigdon arrived in Canada, they found the people eager to accept the gospel.
Friday, the 18th [October 1833], … we arrived … in Upper Canada.
Sunday, 20.—At 10 o’clock we met an attentive congregation at Brantford; and the same evening a large assembly at Mount Pleasant. … The people gave good heed to the things spoken.
Thursday, 24.— … Freeman A. Nickerson and his wife declared their belief in the work, and offered themselves for baptism. Great excitement prevailed in every place we visited.
Sunday, 27.—Preached to a large congregation … , after which I baptized twelve, and others were deeply impressed. …
Monday, 28.—In the evening, we broke bread, and laid on hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost, and for confirmation, having baptized two more. The Spirit was given in great power to some, and peace to others. May God carry on His work in this place till all shall know Him.
Tuesday, 29.—After preaching … , I baptized two, and confirmed them at the water’s side. … We took our departure from Mount Pleasant. …
Friday, November 1.—I left Buffalo, New York, … and arrived at my house in Kirtland on Monday, the 4th … and found my family well, according to the promise of the Lord … , for which I felt to thank my Heavenly Father.
The sacrifice made by many Saints to serve missions brought great blessings to their lives. The Church was also blessed by the strength and faithfulness of the new members. In Canada, for example, many joined the Church, including a future President of the Church, John Taylor, and the mother of future President Joseph F. Smith, Mary Fielding.

In the village where my wife grew up, her parents, who were good churchgoing people, embraced the gospel as a young married couple with my wife as their two-year-old daughter and only child at that time. Their decision to become members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had a great impact on their lives as they were shunned by the villagers and by their family. It took many years, loving notes to family members, and service to the community before they were finally accepted.
On one occasion when my wife’s father was serving as a bishop, he was falsely accused of something and was immediately released. My mother-in-law was so hurt that she asked her husband if they should continue to go to church. He answered that they of course would continue to go to church since this is not the church of men, but this is the Church of Jesus Christ.
It took some time before the truth came to light and apologies were made. What could have been their breaking point just added to their strength and conviction.

One Saturday when my little brother and I were watching cartoons, there was a bad show on. The girls in the show were not dressed modestly. I turned the TV off. I felt very good after I did. I knew I had followed Jesus Christ.