Gospel Story Finder

A group of individuals in Mexico who had embraced the Book of Mormon published their own religious newspaper, La voz del desierto.

Mexico gained its independence from the Spanish Empire in 1821, but the new government maintained old limits on religious freedom and freedom of the press. The Catholic Church remained the official religion and had control over education, marriage, and other parts of public life. Similar conditions across Latin America limited people’s ability to learn about the restored gospel: the attempt by Elder Parley P. Pratt (1807–57) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles to open a mission in Chile in 1851 ended not only because of his struggle with Spanish but also because he couldn’t preach openly or print religious materials without restrictions.5

Through laws in 1855 and a new constitution in 1857, however, reformers in Mexico expanded citizens’ rights. They guaranteed freedom to share and print ideas. They separated church and state and decreed religious freedom. But these reforms encountered resistance and led to years of armed conflict. In 1862, anti-reform groups even encouraged foreign nations to invade Mexico and establish an emperor. For years, Benito Juárez headed a government in exile that continued to fight for constitutional principles. That government was finally victorious in the late 1860s.

The rights to publish and share information allowed Mexico’s citizens to consider new ideas and beliefs. In 1874, President Brigham Young called missionaries to prepare to preach in Mexico. These missionaries began by translating selections from the Book of Mormon, which they were now permitted to share by mail with Mexico’s leading intellectuals. Even before the first missionaries arrived in the capital, a small group of individuals embraced the Book of Mormon message. Thanks to press and religious freedoms, they were able to print their own religious newspaper, La voz del desierto, to celebrate the Restoration’s promises for native peoples in the Americas and its potential to bless their country.6

Latter-day Saints in Mexico today owe a debt of gratitude to these early Saints in Mexico City who exercised their freedom and to the inspired reformers who dreamed of greater freedom, drafted a constitution, and defended its principles.

Going into my senior year of high school, I had to make the decision whether or not I would play football. The previous year I’d decided not to play because of the rough environment on the football team. But I felt that in my senior year I could have some sort of influence on my teammates. So after a lot of prayer and a lot of thought, I decided to play.
As the season began, the same doubts I’d had about playing the year before returned. The conversations among teammates were often inappropriate, and I felt alone a lot of the time. I kept praying that I could be an influence for good, but I couldn’t see how I was making any difference to my teammates. This continued until the last game of the season. Our team played hard, but we lost and finished the season with a losing record.
I walked into the locker room, packed up my stuff, and headed for the bus, feeling like a failure. As I walked, one of my teammates ran up beside me. We started talking about the game and the season and then he said something I didn’t expect. He told me that he appreciated my kindness to him and the rest of the team throughout the season. He said that no matter what, he knew I would be kind to him and the others on the team.
As we rode the bus back to our school, I looked with a new perspective on the past few months. I realized that the feelings of failure I’d felt had been worth the feelings of success that I was having now. I knew that even if it was for only one person on my team, I had made a difference.

You may have had the experience of being made stronger by the people you were called to serve. I was once called as a bishop of young single adults. I am not sure whether the Lord’s purposes were more for what changes I could help Him make in them or the changes He knew they would make in me.

To a degree I do not understand, most of those young people in that ward acted as if I was called of God especially for them. They saw my weaknesses but looked past them.

I remember one young man who asked for counsel about his educational choices. He was a freshman at a very good university. A week after I had given the advice, he scheduled an appointment with me.

When he came into the office, he surprised me by asking, “Bishop, could we pray before we talk? And could we kneel? And may I pray?”

His requests surprised me. But his prayer surprised me even more. It went something like this: “Heavenly Father, You know that Bishop Eyring gave me advice last week, and it didn’t work. Please inspire him to know what I am to do now.”

Now you might smile at that, but I didn’t. He already knew what the Lord wanted him to do. But he honored the office of a bishop in the Lord’s Church and perhaps wanted me to have the chance to gain greater confidence to receive revelation in that calling.

It worked. As soon as we stood up and then sat down, the revelation came to me. I told him what I felt the Lord would have him do. He was only 18 years old then, but he was mature in spiritual years.

He already knew he didn’t need to go to a bishop on such a problem. But he had learned to sustain the Lord’s servant even in his mortal weaknesses. He eventually became a stake president. He carried with him the lesson we learned together: if you have faith that the Lord leads His Church through revelation to those imperfect servants He calls, the Lord will open the windows of heaven to them, as He will to you.

From that experience, I carried away the lesson that the faith of the people we serve, sometimes more than our own faith, brings us revelation in the Lord’s service.

There was another lesson for me. If that boy had judged me for my failure to give him good advice the first time, he never would have come back to ask again. And so, by choosing not to judge me, he received the confirmation he desired.

Yet another lesson from that experience has served me well. As far as I know, he never told anyone in the ward that I had not given good counsel at first. Had he done that, it might have reduced the faith of others in the ward to trust the bishop’s inspiration.

Most high school track stars have large teams to run and hang out with, but Jenny West, 17, runs alone. Even though the cross-country team at St. Helena High School in Napa Valley, California, was terminated last year, Jenny is still chasing her dreams. This teen from the St. Helena Branch in the Napa Valley Stake trains and runs on her own every day for three to five miles. By herself she has developed an individual program that has led her to the regional and state cross-country meets this year. It’s hard not to have a team, she says, but she knows that many people are cheering for her. Jenny also knows that she really hasn’t done this by herself. Her Heavenly Father and family have helped along the way. “My mom and I pray before every single meet,” Jenny says. “I pray that He will help me to do my best.”

After he left, we looked around the street again and saw a woman walking slowly toward us in the cold night. A glimmer of happiness shone in her eyes when we presented her with a Book of Mormon. She told us that she had become a widow recently and was happy that we were concerned about her. She said she was extremely grateful to us. As she walked away, we saw her hold the book against her heart.

I will never forget the family home evening lesson we had during a power outage. Without power we could not read anything, and I thought that family home evening was going to be a disaster.
“How will we have family home evening without being able to read a message from the Church magazines, or how will we be able to sing from the hymnbooks without light?” I thought to myself.
Fortunately my sister came to the rescue. She had the great idea for us to sing the hymns we knew by heart and then share what we had learned the Sunday before. We all shared a principle and learned from one another. In my opinion, learning together is the purpose of family home evening. I am certain that the Lord was very pleased that we kept the commandment to have family home evening, even without lights.

A memorial service was held for Stephen at the Vancouver stake center in British Columbia. Instead of sending flowers, friends contributed to a fund in his name set up at his former high school. Each year a graduating student who has “shown outstanding contributions in the area of helping other young people—one who has gone above and beyond the call of duty in the spirit of a true humanitarian”—will receive $100 bursary and the “Super Steve Humanitarian Award.”
The Vancouver British Columbia Stake has inaugurated a “Stephen Farrance Memorial Sportsmanship Award” to be presented to the seminary team that shows the most concern for each other, attention to rules, sincere effort, and good sportsmanship during the annual scripture chase.
At the memorial services, members and nonmembers gathered to remember Stephen. A School friend spoke on Stephen’s contributions to the school and to his fellow students. He spoke of his many talents, his desire to serve, and his example to the student body. His priests adviser talked about Stephen’s Church accomplishments, his enthusiasm for any outing, even if he knew he couldn’t participate, and his concern for the priesthood brethren. And the bishop spoke about Stephen’s spiritual achievements. He reminded those gathered of the great, strong testimony he had, and how he had made use of every opportunity to bear it. He talked of Stephen’s desire to serve the Lord in any capacity he could. For the first time members and nonmembers, brought together through love of Stephen, became aware of many sides of Stephen’s remarkable character.

I was baptised on the 14th in May 1955 in Liverpool, when the branch was meeting in Summerfield, a grand old house which stood on Mill Bank where the stake centre now stands. The following year, Spencer W. Kimball (1895-1985), then an Apostle, visited Summerfield because he was in the area.
Even as a very young teenager, I could tell that there was something special about him. He did a wonderful presentation on tithing. We had been in the Church for less than a year and I was part of the choir along with my mother. I was seated at the front and had the advantage of watching him come down the aisle towards the stand.
He stopped and stood in front of the pulpit. He said that he wanted someone to help him.
He had taken the trouble to find ten pieces of three pence (a small gold-coloured coin with many sides resembling our 50-pence piece) before coming to the meeting. He then called a young primary boy named Geoffrey Nugent to come to the front and said, “I want you to help me. Hold out your hand.”
Geoff held out his open hand as Elder Kimball counted the ten coins, one by one, into his hand. Then he asked him, “What have you got there?” “I have ten threepenny pieces” Geoff replied and Elder Kimball said “Yes, now will you do something for me, will you give me one coin back?”
Geoffrey gave him one back, and Elder Kimball said, “Now see this one which you have given back to me? How many have you got left?” Geoffrey counted them and said, “Nine.”
“You’ve got nine and I’ve got one. That’s all the Lord wants from you. He wants one out of every ten of the pennies you have. Would you do that for the Lord? We call it tithing. Would you pay your tithing?”
Geoffrey said he would, and Elder Kimball said, “Well, I am giving you this one back. I am trusting you to pay it in tithing.” He then gave the coin he was holding back to Geoffrey.
I have never forgotten that lesson. Geoffrey went on to do that same lesson with one of his friends, Roy. Elder Kimball taught him, and the rest of us, about tithing, in a simple yet profound way. I was just a young teenager then, but that experience has stayed in my mind and heart all these years.

Elder Anthony Duane Perkins spent much of his childhood with his legs in “all kinds of contraptions” because one of his legs stopped growing when he was 7. At age 10 he was the “guinea pig” in an inventive but successful operation performed by a Chinese doctor.
Elder Perkins notes that the event was the first of many interactions with the Chinese. “My whole life has been wrapped up with the Chinese people.”

By the time Buzz Burbidge of the Bountiful 34th Ward, Bountiful Heights Utah Stake, turned 13 and thereby became eligible to receive the Eagle Award, he had already earned 31 merit badges. He received 22 of these, plus the World Conservation Award and his Star advancement, during a three-month period last summer.

Even before I found the Church, the Lord watched over me. As a lone parent of two young boys and studying full time for a law degree (having been allowed a mandatory grant at that time), I could not find a summer job in my second year. I had no idea how I was going to buy food or pay my bills. Our social worker informed me that the grant given in September the previous year was supposed to last until the following September. With two growing boys that was not possible. I was at my wit’s end.

In desperation, I took the boys to the social worker’s office and told her she could look after them till the next grant cheque came. I cannot begin to understand the effect doing so on the boys, but I felt wretched. She brought them back later the same day. The following week I returned from a revision day at college. It had gone well, and I was feeling more positive. As I turned into my road, I saw the boys waiting at the open door looking frightened. I ran to them and took them into our flat. My older son said the nanny had dropped them off, watched them open the front door and go in before driving to her evening job.

I asked, “So why are you looking so scared?” They each took a hand and led me into the bedroom. Every drawer and wardrobe had been emptied, and the contents laid all over the floor. I looked where I kept the gold jewellery I had received at my marriage and at the births of my boys: all gone, even my junk jewellery. I sat down heavily on the bed, trying to think. I phoned my mother and spoke with my stepdad. He asked whether I had contents insurance. I replied, “Yes.” He told me to ring them after reporting the theft to the police and getting a crime number.

Suffice it to say, while I could only reclaim one-third of my financial loss because the jewellery had not been individually insured, the £2,500 I received kept the children and me going until the next grant cheque arrived.

Buffalo-Child-Long-Lance, a Blackfoot Indian Chief, told of his tribe trailing a band of five hundred horses led by the great stallion for ten days. At dawn on the eleventh day, on a plateau between the Rockies and Cascades, the Indian braves finally drove the herd into a log corral they had built between two sides of a rocky gulch.

After a day of futile attempts to rope the imprisoned stallion and near-fatal injuries to four braves, Indians carrying firebrands forced the horse into a corner against the rocks and partitioned off that part of the corral with a seven-foot fence. When they returned the next morning, they were amazed to find he had cleared the high fence, rammed through the heavy log corral, and vanished.

The Indians believed the wild stallion was supernatural, and after his escape, they called him the Ghost Horse of the Prairies. They claimed they often saw him standing on a butte, his majestic body silhouetted against the moon, his silvery mane and tail shining in the moonlight with a phosphorescent glow—a truly ghostly effect.

Shane Aldous steps to the front of his karate class.
“Taegeuk Seven Jang,” he shouts and begins leading students through a complex series of smooth flowing movements called a kata. Shane’s hands move into positions, palms up, fingers together. His eyes wide, alert, he steps into a low stance. Then with practiced precision, a hand moves in a graceful circle, stops, pulls in, and punches upward. A fast high kick follows.
A karate class might seem an unlikely place for missionary work, but for Shane Aldous, 15, and his family, almost any place can present an opportunity.
“Two years ago I was the biggest boy in my class,” Shane explains. “All of the boys who thought they were tough wanted to fight me. But I didn’t want to fight. My mother saw an advertisement in the paper for karate classes and asked if I wanted to take lessons.”
Chol H. Kim, the instructor of the class, teaches TaeKwon Do, a Korean style of karate, which emphasizes both physical and mental discipline. “In TaeKwon Do, character development is as important as physical development. It’s a class rule,” Shane says, “to show respect to your teachers and your parents.”
Shane’s parents and his brother Brad, 14, were so impressed with what Master Kim was teaching that they also signed up for his classes. “We do things as a family whenever we can,” Shane says.
Because they worked together and could help each other learn, the Aldous family progressed rapidly.
Brad and Shane began entering karate tournaments, and at the United States National Junior Olympics they took top honors in their divisions. Shane brought home a silver medal, and Brad won two gold medals.

I never used to feel the Spirit in meetings, and I imagined there was something wrong with me. Then I had the opportunity to accompany one of the full-time missionaries serving in our branch. For me, the conditions were far from ideal. After my regular work in a bank, I bicycled in extreme heat to the investigator’s home.

On our first visit, I only listened as the missionary presented the lesson. But on the second visit, I became involved in the message, and I felt the Spirit as I had never felt it before. It was such a wonderful feeling that I had tears in my eyes.

When I got home, I began to analyze why I had felt the Spirit so strongly. I came to the conclusion that it was because I was interested in the lesson and the message taught. I now make the effort to become interested in what speakers have to say in church meetings. When I become involved in their message and concentrate on what they are saying, I have felt the Spirit with me.

Janilson Teixeira de Oliveira, 21Rondonopólis Aurora Branch, Brazil Brasília Mission

When I was five years old, my mother took me to Grandmother’s house to stay overnight. My grandmother lived on a farm, and it was always very exciting for me to play outside. But this time Grandmother warned me, “Be careful of that red hen with baby chickens. Don’t get too close or she might think you want to hurt her chicks.”
“I won’t, Grandma,” I promised. “I’ll be very careful.”
But when I saw the mother hen and yellow chicks, I forgot my promise. They looked so soft and fuzzy that I bent down and reached over to touch one of them. The tiny chick peeped and quickly ran away from me. Then the mother hen flew at me and pecked me on the hand until I ran into the house crying to my grandmother.
Grandmother held me close until I stopped crying. When I was able to talk, she asked me what had happened.
“I just wanted to see if the little chick was as soft as it looked,” I told her. “I wasn’t going to hurt it—I just wanted to touch it. Then that old mother hen pecked me!”
“But how was the mama hen to know you weren’t going to hurt her little baby chicks?” Grandmother asked. “You are much bigger than she is, and she didn’t want anyone to hurt her little chickens. That is why she pecked you—to make you go away.”
Then she told me to go out and play in the yard again, but to stay away from the mother hen with her babies. She also gave me another warning, “Now don’t go too close to that mother goose either. She has some babies too, and she is bigger than the mother hen. If you try to touch one of her babies, she might really hurt you.”
“I won’t touch them, Grandmother,” I promised.
When I went back outside, I stayed away from the mother hen. But I soon saw the mother goose and her train of baby geese following behind. I couldn’t see them very well, so I went closer to take a better look.
When I was close enough to see, the mother goose spread her big wings, stretched out her long neck, opened her beak, and hissed at me. I was so frightened that I ran back into the house and told Grandmother what had happened.
“Parents love their children,” Grandmother said, “and they want to protect them. That is what the mother hen and the mother goose were doing.”
Then my grandmother taught me a valuable lesson. “Not only do your father and mother and family love and want to protect you,” she said, “but our Heavenly Father loves you. He has placed a prophet here on earth to watch over us. This prophet has many assistants, such as the stake presidency, the bishopric, the home teachers, and your teachers in Primary and Sunday School. Many people love you and will protect you, so you never need to be afraid.”
I remember my grandmother’s lesson whenever I hear children sing “I Am a Child of God” or “My Heavenly Father Loves Me.”
This is a lesson all of us should remember, for we are His children and He loves each one of us!

I often looked at the picture of the Oakland Temple hanging from the wall in my room, mostly because I loved to lie on my bed and dream of going there someday with my future companion.
My fiancé had already been through the temple before his mission. Now he and I were preparing to go through together a few days before our wedding.
I know the temple is a holy place, and only worthy members holding temple recommends can enter. I had made an appointment to see my bishop and would also have to see the stake president for a temple interview. I realized, however, that there’s more to an interview than just making the appointment and answering the questions. I had to be prepared and feel worthy. I wanted to be able to tell my bishop and stake president that without a doubt I felt worthy to attend the temple.
How does one go about getting a feeling of worthiness? I felt like I had been living a good life, and I was striving to keep the commandments and follow the counsel of my Church leaders. But I had to be sure I was forgiven of my sins and could therefore worthily enter the temple. In contemplating all these things I decided to set aside a day for fasting and prayer.
At my parents’ farm there are many places for privacy where I could fast and pray undisturbed. I chose a spot on the root cellar, shaded by a large pepper tree, where I would go to my Heavenly Father in study and prayer. I began my fast on Monday. Early Tuesday morning, with scriptures in hand, I went to the tree. I looked forward to some moments of quiet prayer, gospel study, and meditation as I sought an answer from my Father in Heaven. I began reading, and as I did, I would often stop to pray. I felt the Spirit very strongly a few times, but I had not yet approached Heavenly Father with my question of worthiness. I decided to get off the cellar and kneel on the ground.
The sun was coming up and the rays were filtering through the rows of crops. It was beautiful. The light seemed to warm my soul, and I felt the Spirit very strongly. Suddenly, the good feelings went away and I felt confused. I knew I had felt the Spirit, but I had not yet received an answer to my question: Am I worthy to attend the temple? I felt that I was, but I had to be sure.
I continued to pray, but that strong spiritual feeling I had before didn’t come again. I wanted to go back to the house, but I knew I couldn’t leave until I felt good. I decided to continue reading my scriptures. I turned to Doctrine and Covenants 50:34 [D&C 50:34], which says, “He that receiveth of God, let him account it of God; and let him rejoice that he is accounted of God worthy to receive.”
A beautiful and joyful feeling came over me, for I knew I had felt the Spirit, and in that verse it said that if you receive of God, rejoice that you are worthy to receive it! I felt so good as the tears streamed down my face. Finally, I knew I could answer before my Church leaders. But more important, I knew I could answer before my God that I was indeed worthy to enter into his holy house.

The night was very dark. The children cuddled close to their parents. The hand of tiny Thorvald squeezed his father’s and pretty little Astra clung to Ibine. Anthon looked down at Thor and remembered his own childhood. He remembered the cows he had herded, the wooden shoes he had worn in winter, his own sister who died in a terrible blizzard too far from home to get help. He remembered the worried look of his father who couldn’t support his family of nine during the mid-1800s war with Germany. He remembered working from 2:00 in the morning until 11:00 at night on a farm in order to help. He remembered crying in bed at night. “I wondered what I was sent on this earth for. I couldn’t see what good I was doing. All I could see ahead was endless work to no real worthwhile end.”

When I was invited to come here, President Wilkinson suggested that I might talk a little bit about miracles. Well, it will be a miracle if I do. I had a particular assignment or instruction from President George Albert Smith when I was called to this position. He called me into his office one day and took hold of my hand, and while he was holding my hand and looking at me he said, “I want to say something to you, Brother Cowley.” I said, “Well, I am willing to listen.” “This is just a particular suggestion to you. Not to all the brethren, but to you.” He said, “Never write a sermon. Never write down what you are going to say.” I said, “What on earth will I do?” He said, “You tell the people what the Lord wants you to tell them while you are standing on your feet.” I said, “That certainly is putting some responsibility on the Lord.”

But I’ve tried to live up to that instruction. And I’ve had some great experiences. There have been times when the Lord has forsaken me. But when he hasn’t, I’ve had some miraculous—well, I shouldn’t say miraculous—it is the normal experience of the priesthood to have the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. I can bear witness to you, my fellow students, here this morning, that God can work through his priesthood and that he does work through it. I know that without any question of doubt. I’ve had too many experiences. I’m an expert witness about these things.

I walked to school and to Primary with my closest friend, Ralph Frei, who was three or four months older than I. One day in spring we were walking along the gravel road in front of my uncle’s house. Ralph had just recently been baptized, and I sensed a difference in him. I felt as if he had changed. We began talking about his baptism and confirmation, and he explained about the Holy Ghost.

“When you receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, you’ll know you have it,” he said. “It’s just like someone is sitting on your shoulder, whispering in your ear, teaching you the things you need to know.” He said that if we invite the Holy Ghost into our lives, He will guide us.

I never forgot Ralph’s explanation. From that moment, I wanted to have the gift of the Holy Ghost. Four months later I received that special gift as my father confirmed me a member of the Church.

Lehi became very real to Nate Cleveland, 18, when he acted out the part of Lehi during his discussion group. “It was really hard for me to convince Laman and Lemuel to get the plates and yet still hold my family together,” he says, shaking his head. “I had never thought of Lehi as a dad before.”