Gospel Story Finder

The tree had been young when Olivia Tucker McCoy joined the Church. In her diary she wrote: “We were baptized Oct. 3, 1897. My husband’s father had given him the place he settled on with the understanding that he would help him work and pay for that place and the one his father bought, but as it was his father’s he never got the deed. So, after we joined the Mormons his father told him he would have to move.”
Their little daughter had been burned in a fire in December, and they asked for time before moving the child but were ordered out. On January 3, 1898, “We put her in the wagon on a bed, moved to what they called the Coates place, and rented the same from Jim Smyly.
“The Christmas of 1898 I spent with my sister, a Mrs. Guinn, the one I lived with when I was married. But the folks didn’t seem just the same. You see, I had joined the Mormons and I was reminded of it.”

The temple is the literal house of God for members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is the place where sacred ordinances are performed. It is a place all Latter-day Saints strive to attend on a regular basis. Unfortunately for some, a temple may not be walking distance away or even driving distance. In fact, for some, temples are not even in their country. This is the situation for Jamaicans. The closest temple to Jamaica is the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple. With the view and the goal to attend the temple, 152 members from the different congregations across Jamaica went to the Santo Domingo Temple on July 20th–25th, 2015. Making that trip was one of great effort and tremendous sacrifice for those who attended.
The flight heading to the Dominican Republic left Jamaica at 11:00 in the morning on July 20, 2015. The 152 members were all aboard the flight. For some it would be their first time attending the temple. The flight’s departure from the Jamaican shores represented a moment of great joy as they knew that they would be just hours away from entering the house of the Lord—a place where they could make sacred covenants and receive personal revelation.
The feedback from those that attended proved that the sacrifices made so that they could attend the temple were indeed worth it.
When asked to give an account of his experience, Michael Robinson from the Boulevard Ward stated, “It’s the most beautiful experience I’ve ever had.” Michael was baptized on October 6, 2013. He said that having the opportunity to attend the temple helped him see that he can do more to serve the Lord. He also stated, referring to God that, “His love for us is more than we can have here in this life.”
Similarly, Christine Collins from the Boulevard Ward felt equally as blessed with her temple trip experience. She had the opportunity to attend with some of her family members. Her response when asked about her trip was, “It was absolutely amazing!”
Her brother Carlton Collins, from the Junction Branch, one of the few youth who went on the trip, explained that a week before he knew that he was attending, he faced a lot of discouragement from friends. Carlton explained that he realized that the devil wanted to rob him of the experience he would have at the temple. He said that at the end of the trip, his testimony and resolve to serve the Lord had been strengthened.
The question that can be asked to the members who attended is: “What is your story?” For Rohan and Tracy Francis from the Ocho Rios Branch, their story began with Elder Beck and Elder Martin, two missionaries who introduced the gospel to them. Elder Martin, who is from Alberta, Canada, and now home from his mission, along with Elder Beck, who is also off his mission, were able to join the members on the trip. It was a quite a privilege for them to be able to meet up with their converts at the temple.
The story of Rohan and Tracy Francis did not stop there. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is well-known for promoting traditional families as the fundamental unit of all societies. The Church promotes families, and family history is a major drive for its members. At the temple, Tracy Francis was able to meet Ruth-Ann and Shirlette Brown, two members of the Portmore Ward, who she found out are her great-great-grand-aunt’s children. It was an absolutely wonderful experience for the Brown sisters, who did not know that there were other members of their family who were members of the Church.
The story of Antoinette and Christopher Peart, members of the Constant Spring Ward, and Sister Norma Grant from the Kingston Branch is something to be featured. Being able to attend the temple was a great blessing as their previous attendance at the temple was in 1999. Antoinette explained that it was quite an emotional time for her.
We cannot record all the stories and everything that happened, however, the story of Calvin Dodd from the Hopeton Branch is worth the mention. Calvin Dodd was the oldest member to attend. He is 87 years old and had been baptized on June 15, 1994. Due to health difficulties, previous recent attempts to attend the temple were unfruitful. This trip was indeed a significant milestone for Calvin.
For President Piper, a Church leader for the Mandeville area, his experience was just as significant. He was able to see two sisters from the Negril congregation, whom he had baptized when he was a missionary.
Overall, the trip can be seen as a success. The members were able to perform over 2,000 ordinances during the week they were there. To sum up the whole temple experience for those who attended, in the words of Lacey-Ann Dennis, one of the members, “it was just a reminder that God is real.”

Christmas used to be the best time of the year. Tasha’s grandma would take her shopping for a new dress. And Dad read “The Night before Christmas” to her every Christmas Eve.
But two years ago, Grandma had died. And then the next year, Dad died, and Tasha and Mom moved to a smaller house. Now there was no fireplace to hang stockings, and reading Dad’s Christmas poem was too sad.
One night about two weeks before Christmas, the doorbell rang. When Tasha opened the door, there was a mug full of candy canes with a little note signed, “Secret Santa.” Tasha’s face lit up. She loved candy canes!
“Who do you think it’s from?” she asked, peeling open one of the wrappers.
“I don’t know,” said Mom. She smiled and pulled out a candy cane. “But what a nice surprise!”
The next night, their Secret Santa left hot cocoa mix. The night after that it was a box of cute soaps. Every night, Tasha was excited to see what showed up next. And every night she got more and more curious. Who was dropping off the gifts?
Tonight there was a plate of cookies with reindeer faces. They had chocolate-chip eyes and antlers made from melted caramel. “They’re so cute,” Tasha said. “I wish we knew who was bringing these so we could say thank you.”
Mom got out some milk to go with their cookies. “It seems like whoever’s doing it wants to stay anonymous.”
“What’s a … anonymous?” Tasha asked.
“It means they don’t want other people to know who they are. Maybe the best thing we can do to thank them is to pass their kindness on to other people.”
Tasha was quiet as she ate her cookie. What kind things could she do? She didn’t have money to buy cute little gifts. And even if she did, Mom didn’t have time to take her to the store.
Tasha sighed. “I want to do something nice, but I don’t know what to do. And I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Being kind doesn’t take money,” Mom said. “All it takes is thinking about others. Smiling at a friend who looks sad, sitting at lunch with someone who’s alone, saying ‘thank you’—those are nice and free.”
Tasha nodded slowly. She could do that.
On Monday morning at school, her teacher was wearing a new sweater.
“Mrs. Hennessy,” Tasha said, “that’s a really pretty red sweater.”
Mrs. Hennessy looked happy. “Thank you!”
For the rest of the day, Mrs. Hennessy seemed to be smiling a lot.
That afternoon after school, Tasha volunteered to walk her neighbor’s dog.
“Thank you, Tasha,” Mrs. Oliver said. “My hip was hurting so much that I wondered how I was going to take Penny for her walk. You’re an answer to prayer.”
“You’re welcome,” Tasha said. She was glad she’d come to help.
After dinner she helped Mom fold laundry and clean the kitchen. Tomorrow she was going to surprise Mom and vacuum!
That night their Secret Santa struck again, this time leaving a bag of chocolate candies.
“Mom,” Tasha said, “can I take some of these to school to share? I think that would make my class really happy.”
Mom took a chocolate and handed the bag to Tasha. “Of course!”
Tasha grinned. She would always miss Dad and Grandma, but she was glad she had discovered this Christmas secret: helping others made her happy!

President Nelson told about how he operated on a baby patient who died. He went home and cried and said he would never do another heart operation. His wife helped him go back to work and keep learning. Eventually he was able to save President Kimball’s life because he had learned enough about heart surgery. The moral of this true story is, “Don’t give up!” Sometimes I want to give up, but I’m going to keep trying, like President Nelson.
Thomas T., age 8, Washington, D.C., USA

It occurred when this most treasured, little son was nearly three years old. One day, suddenly and without warning, he stopped breathing and fell to the floor, apparently lifeless. My husband was not home, and I called my ten-year-old daughter, Nancy, to get help as I carried him to the bedroom. As I worked to revive him, I literally, cried out unto the Lord. I begged him to spare our only son. I promised that I would dedicate myself to training him up to be an instrument in the hands of God if he would be spared. The police arrived with their emergency equipment. I continued in fervent, vocal prayer to the Lord, petitioning him to restore our little boy. The doctor arrived. Just as a stimulant was to be injected directly into his heart as a final emergency measure, he cried. My prayers had been answered, but I was to receive further testimony of this in a most unexpected way.
The next morning, our son climbed on his daddy’s knee. “I was sitting on the lap of Jesus,” he said. Then he went on, “He looked into my eyes. I was so happy. I wanted to stay there with him, but he told me I had to go back home to you.” Even now, twenty-four years later, our son remembers vividly the reciprocal love he experienced during his brief “step out of time.” He is vigorous and well, living with his lovely wife and a little son of his own as he continues to serve the Lord.

The Book of Mormon was not the only holy writ that Emma protected; she also secured the manuscript of Joseph’s inspired Bible translation. The Smiths moved to Missouri in 1838, intending to publish the revisions, but trouble mounted and Joseph was imprisoned. A friend, Ann Scott, sewed two cotton bags attached to a waistband to hide the papers under a skirt.11 Emma carried her two infants with two other young children clinging to her skirts, loaded with precious papers underneath, as they walked across the frozen Mississippi River to safety in Illinois.12

Many years ago, when I was engaged in the private practice of the law, a lawyer in Texas engaged me to take care of a legal problem for him in Utah.
This legal matter was satisfactorily adjusted by the payment of a sum of money, in the form of a check to our office. I forwarded the check to my friend in Texas without first cashing it, with the understanding that a portion of it would be returned to settle part of the obligation through our office.
After I sent the check, I heard nothing more from my friend. Letters, telegrams, and telephone calls went unanswered for many months. I became concerned because it was not my money and if he did not keep his word I was honor bound to make good the loss. The obvious solution was to file a complaint against him. There lurked in my mind, however, the possibility of a far more subtle approach.
I recalled how, as a boy, I had been taught by my mother the words of the Savior, as recorded by Matthew, that tell us that true Christians are supposed to pray for those who despitefully use them (see Matt. 5:44). I certainly felt that I had been despitefully used. I happened to be serving as a bishop in the Church at that time, and I chastised myself because I was something less of a Christian than I ought to be. I had not first considered the direction of the Master. At an appropriate place and time, I went to my knees and uttered a simple but sincere prayer for the well-being of this man in Texas. I am ashamed to say that this was the first time in my life when the sole and only purpose of a prayer was in the interest of one who, in my opinion, had not done well by me. The prayer seemed to have been almost instantaneously heard and brought dramatic results. In the time that it takes for an airmail letter to come from Texas, there arrived a communication from this man containing the promised money. In the letter was an explanation that he had been seriously ill, had been in the hospital, and had had to close his office but now was doing better. He asked our pardon and apologized for the inconvenience that this caused.
I relate this experience without apology to anyone who might think that I was weak, inadequate, or foolish for having humbly sought to follow a commandment of the Savior for a solution to a practical problem. The price of discipleship is obedience. In many languages, the word disciple has the same root as the word discipline. Self-discipline and self-control are consistent and permanent characteristics of the followers of Jesus.

The day my brother told me that he hated me because I believed in the gospel was one of my hardest days. We might have family members who can’t love us. But we can take comfort in Peter’s words that “if ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye; for the spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you” (1 Peter 4:14).

It took a long time, but as I trusted in God and patiently showed my brother love, he began to see past his hatred of the Church. Our relationship isn’t perfect, but my prayers are being answered one step at a time as I put love first.

When heavy rains in southern Germany caused flooding so severe that many homes were underwater up to their rooftops, the Latter-day Saint youth in the area knew exactly what to do: they rolled up their sleeves and got to work. There certainly was plenty of work to go around.
Some youth helped directly with the aftermath of the flood. They swept away mud and helped clean out homes and gardens. Others worked to sort and distribute toys that had been donated for children affected by the flood.
The youth worked side-by-side with members of other faiths throughout the cleanup. “I felt the Spirit’s presence as we were serving,” says Nathaniel S., a young man who participated. “I know the reason the Spirit was there was because we were all unified as children of God helping each other.”

by Cass Montgomery
“Come join the fun at Cousin Camp,” said the letter that six of my cousins, ages 6–10, received in the mail. I’d invited them to spend a week at my house where I’d prepared camp-like activities.
We all slept outside in tents, and every morning when we woke someone would give an inspirational thought. Every day we did crafts like painting wooden hearts and making pop-up cards. We also had classes on manners, baby-sitting, first aid, etc. At all the classes I gave out cards and handouts. My cousins liked that. And of course, at every good camp you swim, so we had a good, long swim every day. At night we closed with “family night.”
I had a really fun time doing “Cousin Camp” for my little cousins, and I think they liked it too. We can hardly wait for next year.
Cass is a Mia Maid in the Redlands Third Ward, Redlands California stake.

A remarkable example of President Monson’s kindness occurred in 2012. As the beautiful Brigham City Utah Temple was nearing completion, I met with the First Presidency to discuss plans for its dedication. With Brigham City being only one hour north of Salt Lake City, it would have been very easy for President Monson to travel there for the dedication.
Instead, President Monson said, “Brigham City is the hometown of President Boyd K. Packer, this great Apostle who has sat beside me for so many years in the Twelve. I want him to have the honor and blessing of dedicating the temple in his hometown. I will stay away, and I’ll assign President Packer to dedicate the Brigham City Temple. I want it to be his day.”
It was a wonderful day for President Packer and for Sister Packer, who also grew up in Brigham City. I was very touched by President Monson’s kind and magnanimous gesture to his fellow Apostle. We can all be that way. We can share and be kind and think more of those around us.

My husband and I were living in a second-story apartment with our small son and daughter. We looked forward to Christmas that year with our two children. Our son was growing fast, and as any normal toddler, he liked to move a lot. He often ran around the apartment just for fun. We enjoyed his antics, but our neighbor downstairs was rather impatient. He often turned up his music in retaliation and came upstairs to complain to us.
It was a frustrating situation for us. What is a little boy supposed to do all day if he is not able to move freely? It broke my heart to keep him quiet when he was so full of gleeful energy. We met with our apartment manager and our neighbor to try to resolve the conflict. As we talked I noticed that our neighbor was especially defensive in his words and attitude. During the discussion, the Savior’s words from Matthew 5:44 came to my mind: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” I did not necessarily consider him an enemy, but we certainly didn’t see eye to eye.
He was in the military, and his wife had not been able to join him yet, so he was alone in a strange town. And when he came home from work, he had to deal with this noise above his apartment. I began to see how difficult it might be for him, but I still did not have a fair solution. I started to pray for him, and my heart was touched to be a little more sympathetic.
We welcomed my husband’s parents to spend the holidays with us that year. On Christmas Eve we were enjoying each other’s company and the special spirit of the season. Soon we heard and felt the vibration of loud music coming from the apartment below. It seemed very loud this time, but I remember feeling sorry for him rather than impatient. Thinking about the verse in Matthew 5, I made up a plate of homemade Christmas cookies for our neighbor.
My husband and I went down to deliver them. When our neighbor opened the door, he scowled at us and said, “WHAT?” I could tell he was expecting an unpleasant confrontation. Instead, we ignored the loud music and wished him a heartfelt merry Christmas. We smiled, and I could see his face soften as he accepted the cookies. He smiled back and thanked us, wishing us a merry Christmas also. It wasn’t long before the music was turned down.
We saw our neighbor outside a few days later, and he thanked us again for the cookies. He was smiling at us again, and we found it easy to smile back at him. We asked him if he had a church to go to, because he was new in town. He said he hadn’t found one yet, so we invited him to our church, and he accepted our invitation. He began visiting with the missionaries and soon wanted to be baptized. He and our son had their picture taken together on the day of his baptism.
I don’t remember any more problems with loud music, but I do recall the special blessings of following the scriptures in our lives. It still warms my heart to remember how the simple gift of Christmas cookies quickly changed an unpleasant relationship into a wonderful friendship.

After the Dortmund conference, while most of the group returned to the United States, President Kimball, President Tanner, and their wives, and a few others traveled to Bern, Switzerland. Here the two members of the First Presidency were busy for an additional day and a half in the Swiss Temple. They had been traveling now for 14 days while participating in the five area conferences. They had been going unceasingly when we boarded a bus at Bern to go to Zurich where we were to catch our flight to New York and then on to Salt Lake. I saw President Kimball’s exceptional enthusiasm in action again.
There had been 14 days of going, going, going, and in the 30 hours ahead there would be no opportunity for the prophet to go to bed or really relax. On the bus most of us leaned back in our seats and began to nap. I was seated behind President Kimball and expected that he would use the next hour for some well-deserved rest. We had not quite reached the autobahn when President Kimball stood up and made his way up the aisle to a jump seat next to the bus driver. As I sat in my seat feeling almost exhausted, our prophet, who had reason to be more tired than anyone else, couldn’t rest because there was a person on that bus who hadn’t been taught the gospel of Jesus Christ.
As I watched what happened, I had a feeling of guilt—I had been content to sit back and relax, but the prophet, realizing the transcending importance of missionary work, didn’t let weariness dampen his burning desire to share the gospel with others.
I wondered how he was going to talk with the bus driver who seemed to speak little English. President Kimball doesn’t speak German. Initially there was some difficulty as they tried to speak to one another. After only a few minutes, however, the two of them were obviously quite able to understand each other. Now my worry was transferred from how they would communicate with each other to whether the bus driver, while glancing frequently at President Kimball, would be able to keep the bus on the road. It was clear that he understood and was interested in President Kimball’s sincere message. Their conversation continued until we reached the outskirts of Zurich when President Kimball returned to his seat.
When the bus pulled up at the Zurich airport, President Gary E. O’Brian, president of the Zurich Switzerland Mission, was waiting on the curb. President Kimball went to the door of the bus as it opened. He asked President O’Brian to step on the bus, and while shaking hands with him, said, “President O’Brian, this is Mr. __________. Will you promise me you will teach him the gospel?” President O’Brian said, “Yes, President.” And then President Kimball said, “Mr. __________, this is one of our mission presidents. Will you let him teach you the gospel of Jesus Christ?” The bus driver nodded his head and said he would.
This experience really taught me the importance of sharing the gospel. Our prophet is in close communication with our Heavenly Father and sees beyond the veil much more clearly than I do. He puts this degree of urgency on missionary work. Even when he has every reason to be tired, when sitting back and resting would seem to be a valid excuse for passing up a missionary opportunity, President Kimball continues to be a vigorous missionary. How can you or I do less than share the gospel with our families, our neighbors, our friends, and everyone else we meet?

Teresa and Reiner met in a hospital. She was visiting a friend, and he was working his way through college as an orderly. When he walked into her friend’s hospital room, Teresa remembers thinking, “Boy, this guy is tall.” Standing six feet herself, she was aware of height. Reiner is six-foot-eight. “He remembered my phone number when I gave it to my friend and called me,” said Teresa. They were married a year later. It was while the couple was stationed in Germany, fulfilling an ROTC obligation in the army, that Shawn was born. After finishing his schooling as a medical technologist, Reiner moved his young family back to Teresa’s hometown of Castle Dale, Utah. They wanted a small-town atmosphere for their children.

On the way to a Sunday meeting, the stake president and I saw a couple walking along the road with a baby and two small children. We stopped to offer them a ride. They were surprised and delighted. When I asked how far they needed to walk to the chapel, the father replied that it could take 45 minutes to an hour, depending on the children’s pace. They faced this journey back and forth, every Sunday, with no complaints—only smiling faces and grateful hearts.

Be careful; your blessings may come in unexpected ways.

Seven years ago, Kathy and I met Diego Gomez and his beautiful family in Salt Lake City. They attended a temple open house with us but graciously declined our invitation to learn more about the Church. This past May, I received a surprising telephone call from Diego. Events in his life had led him to his knees. He had found the missionaries on his own, taken the discussions, and was ready for baptism. This past June 11, I walked into the waters of baptism with my friend and fellow disciple Diego Gomez. His conversion had its own timetable and came with the help and support of many who reached out to him as “witnesses of God.”

1 In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”
2 I can’t do it, Sister Simon. Jason Edwards makes fun of me every day. How can I love him? I hate him!
3 Joshua, every commandment is given to us for our own good. Hate is a heavy burden to carry, and Jesus is inviting you to lay it down. But you’re trying to do the hardest part of the commandment first. Do you think you could start out by just praying for Jason?
I’ll try.
4 Please bless Jason, Heavenly Father. Help him stop being so mean. I mean, if he’s hurting somehow, please help him feel better.
5 Hey, Miller! Is it painful being that ugly?
Actually, I feel great, Jason. Thanks for asking, though.
6 What’s gotten into him?

When my wife and I were first married, President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) encouraged members of the Church to read the scriptures every day with their families. We wanted to follow the prophet, so we decided we would do that together as a couple and then with our future children.
Years later, our family had grown to five children, including our youngest, Spencer.
Once, when Spencer was six years old, my wife and I went away for just a few days and left the children with a babysitter. When we returned home, I sat down with Spencer and asked him how everything had gone while we were away.
He told me that he’d had a hard time sleeping. When I asked why he didn’t sleep well, he thought about it and said he did not know.
Later that evening our family began our nightly routine of reading the Book of Mormon together.
Suddenly Spencer exclaimed, “That’s it!” I asked what he was talking about. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep very well at night.”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” I asked.
“We didn’t read the scriptures at night while you were gone, and I like how the scriptures make me feel.”
Spencer had learned that reading the scriptures every day brings us the comfort, peace, and guidance of the Holy Ghost.

We had a wonderful priests quorum, and we were very close. On one of our Aaronic Priesthood summer camps, we camped on the North Fork of the Payette River. One night about 11:00, after our traditional campfire, we went swimming in the river. It was a clear night. The moon was overhead. We had a special swimming hole in the river where we swam during the day. You could dive off a rock into a deep hole and then the water current would sweep you down stream 30 or 40 yards. It was great. We swam for about half an hour. Then we got dressed, and somewhere near midnight all of my priests and I locked arms and walked back down the road to camp singing “Redeemer of Israel.” To this day, almost every time I sing that hymn I have a reflection in my mind from years past of a group of Aaronic Priesthood boys and their leader walking down a dirt canyon road, under a full moon, singing together.

When Janice found herself feeling guilty and frustrated at her inability to meet the expectations she had placed on herself and those she felt others placed on her, she sought Heavenly Father’s help. “Gradually as I drew closer to him,” she said, “I realized how superficial many of my expectations had been, and that I simply did not need to be perfect in every talent and every area that others excelled in. Drawing closer to him led me to an uncluttered perception of what was expected of me and an awareness of my intrinsic worth and potential as his daughter. My frustrations dissipated into a feeling of peace and harmony.”