Gospel Story Finder

David heard a horse trotting into the yard. He knew that sound—Father was home! The door opened, and Father walked in.
“I have some good news,” Father said. “The glass for the tabernacle has arrived in California!”
David felt like cheering. Everyone in their town of St. George knew about the tabernacle windows. The tabernacle was being built so the Church members in Southern Utah could have a place to worship. But the tabernacle didn’t have glass for the windows yet. They had to order it all the way from New York.
New York was a long way from Utah. Father had drawn out a map with charcoal to show David. David had traced the long line the glass had to travel by boat from New York all the way to San Bernadino, California. That’s where it was now. From there it still had to be brought the last 300 miles by wagon to St. George.
Father was in charge of leading the wagon team to California and back. “The glass is waiting for us, but we still need $800 to pick it up.”
David eyes got wide. He had never even heard of that much money!
“Do you think we can raise the money?” Father asked, ruffling David’s hair.
“Of course we can!” David answered. He ran to his room. In minutes he came back and handed a two-cent piece to his father. It was all he had.
Over the next few days, David’s family pulled together $3.87. They knew it wasn’t very much. But they also knew that if Heavenly Father wanted the Saints to build a tabernacle to worship in, then He would provide a way. They prayed for His help.
News soon spread throughout the pioneer community, and everyone gave all they could to the window fund. But when Father counted up the money on the last night before the trip, it was only $200.
“Maybe you should wait till spring,” Mother suggested. “Perhaps we could have the money by then.”
Father shook his head. “No, we have to go now. Otherwise the building will be unprotected from the rain and snow all winter. We can’t let it be damaged.”
That night they prayed for help again. They had done all they could. But it wasn’t enough. David’s father decided to start the journey to California anyway. He had faith that somehow things would work out.
Before first light, the wagon team pulled up outside David’s house. The other travelers joined David’s family inside for a prayer. Father pleaded with Heavenly Father for help.
A knock at the door startled them. When Mother opened it, a man walked in. He said his name was Peter Nielsen, and he was from a nearby town called Washington.
“Hello, Brother Cannon,” he said to Father. “You’re the man I need to see. I had a dream that I should bring you the money I’ve been saving to work on my home. I know that for some reason you need it, and God wants you to have it. Here.”
Brother Nielsen untied a red handkerchief and poured gold pieces onto the table until a big pile lay there. Father counted the coins one by one. $600! With the $200, it made $800. That was exactly the amount they needed to go and get the glass for the Tabernacle! Right away they prayed to thank Heavenly Father.
Within minutes the team was heading west. As they left, David knew without a doubt that Heavenly Father had provided a way for them.

Christmas is a giving time of year for the young people of the Mt. Pleasant Second Ward, Mt. Pleasant Utah Stake. The youth were involved in service projects that helped emphasize the true spirit of giving.
In a combined effort to include the entire ward in their Christmas service projects, the Young Men and Young Women supplied 12 small Christmas trees to special members of the ward, some elderly and unable to get a tree for themselves and some who simply deserved a little extra cheer. The Young Men cut the trees, attached stands, and arranged to deliver the trees. The Young Women procured lights and decorations. The highlight of the evening was the surprised looks on the recipients’ faces as the youth went caroling to deliver the trees. One brother commented, “Why, no one has ever brought me a Christmas tree before!”

Everybody Cooks Rice Carrie follows her little brother’s trail to neighbors from Barbados, Puerto Rico, Vietnam, India, China, and Haiti. All are fixing rice, and Carrie gets to taste each delicious dish. Her mother’s rise e bisi, an Italian rice dish, is wonderful too. Recipes for all the rice dishes are at the end of the story.Norah Dooley5–8 years

We had an older woman in our ward who could not come in person to sacrament meeting because of health concerns. My father and I asked the bishop if we could take the sacrament to her house every week. Her husband, who was less active, started to take the sacrament too. Gathering Israel means we need to invite others to come closer to Jesus Christ. Ministering is a big part of it.
Shion, Utah, USA

“I got started in eighth grade in Tucson, Arizona,” Richard said. “I was in a math class with four friends. One day one of them brought a maze he had made and started a contest to see who could make the best maze. After a while the other four stopped making them, but I haven’t yet.
“I would make mazes at home and take them to school. Some of my friends got excited about them and started copying them, and that kept me excited about them. One of my favorites is a maze that’s a map of the United States. It begins in Maine and ends in Washington State.” He said he also likes a maze designed to look like wood grain and another modeled after Uncle Sam.

Rachael Schneider of the Paducah Ward, Hopkinsville Kentucky Stake, was featured in a 45-minute video on fashion made by J.C. Penney Company for distribution in the state of Illinois and nationwide.
Rachael is an outstanding athlete. She plays center and forward for her high school basketball team, which was runner-up in the state championship the past two years.
Rachel is an excellent student. She is in the National Honor Society. In her ward, she is very active in the Young Women program.

Keeping a Christmas Secret
“Don’t tell,” Betsy and Tim remind their little brother. But when Dad asks questions, Michael accidentally gives the children’s secret away. He sets things right, though, with his very own Christmas surprise.Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

At times, I become weary. In those moments, I stop and look at a picture of the Savior. I think of Him in Gethsemane, and then, suddenly, I am no longer tired. I know in my heart that because He overcame the world, “darkness is past, and the true light now shineth” (1 John 2:8).

When President Nelson invited the women of the Church in October 2018 general conference to read the Book of Mormon before the end of the year, Matthew, Andrew, and Isaac, along with their father and younger brothers, decided to offer Mom their support. “We’ll read it with you!” they said. Every morning before seminary, they woke up to read together.
“When we took on this challenge, I thought it was going to take a lot of time,” Andrew says. “I worried that I wouldn’t have enough time to do everything I wanted to do, like play the guitar or hang out with my friends. But I realized that it just doesn’t work like that. The more I was into reading the Book of Mormon, the more time I actually seemed to have. I realized that if I keep up on reading the scriptures as much as possible, my life is balanced. I have more time in the day.”

I think that a vital example of his faith is found in his experience with the book of Genesis in the Bible. Any reader of that book runs into problems. For example, the biblical record indicates that Adam and Eve had three sons, Cain, Abel, and Seth. Cain killed Abel and that left Cain and Seth to perpetuate the human race. Anyone reading the Bible knows that is impossible.

Joseph Smith exercised great faith when he prayed to the Lord to reveal to him the original context of this book of Moses. The original writings had been lost to the world, but Joseph prayed to the Lord to reveal them to him. That revealed text we have today is the book of Moses in the Pearl of Great Price. It constitutes one of the greatest additions to biblical scholarship that has ever been given to the world.

In Chicago, Illinois, USA, Elder Oaks counseled young married Church members that, “Conversion to the Lord precedes conversion to the Church. And conversion to the Lord comes through prayer and study and service.” And in Arizona with President Russell M. Nelson, President Oaks reminded youth and young adults that, “Our single best quality to characterize ourselves is that we are a son or daughter of God.”

Larry trudged home from school and tried to imagine how the family cabin must look buried beneath the snow. School was out for Christmas vacation, and he and his family were going to the mountains for the holidays. He couldn’t wait to go sleigh riding with them on the hill near their cabin.
As Larry turned the corner, he could see his dad and his brother, Jonathan, already packing the car.
“You’re just in time to help carry out the heavy stuff,” Dad called to him.
Soon they were packed and on their way. The little dirt road that led from the highway to their cabin was covered with snow, and Larry and Jonathan had to help clear the way with snow shovels. It seemed like forever before they finally reached the cabin.
Larry gazed fondly at the cabin. It was a beautiful sight with the snow piled high everywhere. Now Larry realized why he and his father had worked so hard strengthening the ceiling beams inside and patching the roof outside last summer. It would never have held all this snow if they hadn’t.
Everyone, even Julia and little April, helped take the things in from the car, and Dad made a fire in the fireplace. They heated the stew and rolls Mother had made before they left home, and ate their meal in front of the warm, crackling fire.
“Tomorrow we’ll go to the meadow and cut down a Christmas tree,” Dad announced.
“Yippee!” whooped four young voices.
“But now we’d better get a good night’s sleep,” Mom said with a yawn.
Larry woke up early and looked out the small attic window. The trees sparkled with silver ice crystals. Everything was still and quiet outside. Inside, everyone was bustling around, trying to keep warm while Dad stoked the fire. The morning was spent in decorating the cabin and making tree ornaments. In the afternoon Dad and the four children set out to find a perfect Christmas tree. The sled left deep tracks in the snow as they took turns pulling each other to the meadow.
“Sky’s clouding up,” Dad said. “We’d better hurry and find the tree we want.”
A tree was finally chosen, and while Dad chopped it down, the children made a snowman. They hardly noticed that snow had started falling.
“Let’s get moving,” urged Dad as he piled the tree onto the sled. The children came running, eager to get the tree to the cabin.
“Where’s April?” Dad asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Julia. “She was here with me just a minute ago.”
Dad called, but there was no answer. The snow was falling faster.
“You three pull the tree back to the cabin. Just follow the tracks we made coming.”
“I know the way back,” said Larry. “We’ll be OK.”
Dad walked in the opposite direction, calling for little April. Her tracks were quickly being covered by the falling snow, and the sun was starting to go down beyond the mountain.
Larry and Jonathan took turns pulling the sled, and Julia pushed from the back when they went up the hill. At the top they could barely see the lights of the cabin through the blowing snow, which had become a blizzard. When they reached the cabin, Mother opened the door.
“I thought you’d never get here. I have some hot chocolate with marshmallows ready for you.” Then Mother sensed something was wrong. “What’s the matter? Where are your father and April?” she asked.
Julia spoke first. “April’s lost, Mom. Dad’s out looking for her.”
Mother turned and sat down in the rocker by the hearth. In the light of the fire her face looked pale.
It was Larry who broke the silence. “I’m going back to the meadow, Mom.”
“No, Larry. We don’t want anybody else lost in the storm.”
“I have to go, Mom. Dad might need some help. I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
Mom looked into Larry’s eyes, and instead of her little boy, she saw a young man who would soon receive the priesthood. “All right, Larry. But drink a cup of hot chocolate and get warm before you go out again.”
As Larry stood drinking the hot chocolate by the fire, he glanced at his somber brother and sister. He set his cup down, and after putting two blankets into a plastic bag, he bundled up, put some matches from the cupboard into his pocket, and said good-bye.
Outside, he took the tree off the sled, placed the blankets on it, and piled on some dry wood from the shed. He gathered some chips of wood and some small twigs that were stored by the woodpile and put them into his jacket pockets. He covered the wood with a piece of plastic from the shed and began to pull the sled toward the hill.
In the cabin everyone sat staring at the fire.
“I want to do something, too,” Jonathan said.
Julia looked at her mom and nodded her head in agreement.
“There is something we can all do,” said Mother, kneeling by her chair. Julia and Jonathan knelt beside her.
Out in the meadow Dad called and called, but the howling wind outshouted him, threw snow into his face, and obliterated those tracks that had been faintly visible in the fading light. Suddenly something inside of him told him to stand still and listen. This is silly, he thought as he stood still. But the impression wouldn’t leave him, and during a brief lull in the raging blizzard he heard a soft, whimpering sound. Following the sound just a few yards, he came upon a little mound half-buried in the snow.
“April!” he cried.
Two little eyes peeked out from under a snow-covered hood. Dad grabbed her and quickly brushed the snow from her jacket. He unzipped his parka, pressed her against the warmth of his own body, then began immediately to retrace his own tracks before they, too, were covered by the snow.
Meanwhile, when Larry reached the meadow, he pulled the sled over by the snowman. He hoped that the snowman would help block the wind while he tried to make a fire. But the wind kept changing directions. By using the snowman and his own body as shields against the wind, however, he was able to get some of the chips and twigs to light.
Almost immediately a gust of wind blew the little fire out! Larry took the remaining wood off the sled and wrapped the plastic around it. Then he took the sled and tipped it sideways. It helped to block the wind a little, and he was finally able to get the kindling burning enough to catch onto the larger wood. Soon he had a good fire going, its light a beacon in the meadow. Larry sat on the sled by the fire and waited.
Dad’s arms were getting weary, and it was almost impossible to see any tracks now. After a while the blizzard slowed down, and he came across a few tracks in a sheltered place. His excitement turned to despair when he realized that the tracks were fresh! They were his own tracks. He had been walking in a circle!
Dad sank to the ground and began to pray harder than he had ever prayed before. When he stood up again, he looked around carefully in each direction. There, off to his right, was a faint glow. He began to walk toward it, never taking his eyes off it. He couldn’t figure out where the light was coming from. He was sure it couldn’t be the cabin, but he moved gratefully toward it as fast as he could. He reached a clearing and saw the meadow. And there by the snowman was the best fire he had ever seen!
“Hey!” he yelled.
“Dad! Is that you?” Larry called. He ran to his father and threw his arms around him. Together they stood for a moment, shedding tears of joy.
They removed April’s jacket and wrapped her in one of the blankets warmed by the fire and sat her on the sled by the blaze. Dad took off his coat and wrapped up in the other blanket and rested near the fire too.
When they had warmed up a bit, and Dad and April had their parkas on again, he and Larry doused the fire, put April onto the sled, and walked side by side, pulling the sled between them. As they neared the cabin, they saw three worried faces peering through the window.
“There they are! I see them coming!” yelled Jonathan. The cabin door flew open. There were squeals of joy and tears of gratitude as everyone hugged everyone else. Soon they were sipping hot chocolate around the fireplace.
“Dad, you saved April’s life,” said Julia.
“I tried, Julia, I found April, but we were both saved by Larry. It was the light from his fire that saved us.”
“And I know someone else who helped, too,” said Mother.
“Yes,” said Dad. “And I think it’s time to thank Him.”

Four years ago George W. Ormsbee of the Klamath Falls Third Ward, Klamath Falls Oregon Stake, set the goal of having 100 percent attendance at seminary, even though it meant getting up at 5:00 A.M. to be at seminary by 6:00 A.M. He reached his goal, but it wasn’t easy. When the family traveled to Provo to take his brother to the Missionary Training Center, George arranged to attend seminary in Utah. George also participates in drama, football, and track and has received a number of citizenship awards.

While I was stationed at an air base in Wyoming during World War II, it was announced in our branch sacrament meeting that the following week a branch conference would be held and that there was a good possibility that the mission president would bring a visiting authority from Salt Lake City with him. As we came to branch conference the following Sunday morning, we were introduced to that visiting authority, a man whom none of us had ever seen before. It was Elder Spencer W. Kimball, the newest member of the Twelve out on one of his very first assignments. His manner was kindly, his testimony so sure, but he expressed concern that such a high calling should come to one such as he. Then with renewed confidence, he said in effect: “Brothers and Sisters: I don’t know exactly why the Lord has called me, but I do have one talent to offer. My father taught me how to work; and if the Lord can use a worker, I’m available.” Yes, the Lord could use a worker! In fact he needed a hard worker who might possibly be ready to assume prime responsibility at a most significant time.

Tasha, Patrick, and Zach sat on the couch, staring at the big wooden box. They had found it when they were cleaning out the closet. Mom said it was Dad’s special treasure box. But they weren’t allowed to open it until Dad got home.
“I wonder what kind of treasures are in there,” Patrick said. “Maybe gold.”
“Or jewels,” said Tasha. “Maybe Dad will share his treasures with us!”
“It’s old,” said Zach, rubbing a finger on the wood. “It was made a long time ago.” He stared at the box and mumbled something about X-ray vision.
Just then Dad came in the door. “My box!” he said with a big grin.
Zach jumped up. “Can we open it now?” he asked.
“Hmm. Let’s save it for family home evening,” Dad said. “We’ll have a special treasure box night.”
They tried not to look at the box while they were playing, but they couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Couldn’t we just peek a little?” Patrick whispered after dinner was over. He slid over to the box but jumped back when Mom and Dad came into the room. Finally it was time.
Mom said the prayer, and then Dad started family home evening.
“My father made this box for me one Christmas,” he told them. “I started keeping all my treasures in it.”
“Are the treasures worth a lot?” Zach asked.
“They are to me,” said Dad.
“Let’s see them!” said Tasha.
Dad opened the box wide so everyone could see.
The treasures weren’t what they were expecting, but they still had fun exploring. Instead of pirate gold and rubies, they found old school papers, a yo-yo, a microscope, letters, certificates, and lots of photos from when Dad was a kid. His baby pictures made them laugh. As they looked through the box, Zach held up an old airplane ticket.
“Why is this in your treasure box?” he asked.
Dad took the ticket. “During my first year of college, my family sent me this ticket so I could fly home for Thanksgiving. I got a ride from some friends, but they couldn’t take me all the way to the airport.”
“Where did they take you?” Zach asked.
“They dropped me off at a street corner,” said Dad. “I didn’t know how to get to the airport from there. I was worried I would miss the plane.”
“Did you call someone on your cell phone?” Tasha asked.
“Cell phones weren’t invented yet!” Mom said with a laugh.
“So what did you do?” Patrick asked.
“I started praying,” said Dad. “I prayed hard that Heavenly Father would help me. Then I saw a car coming. It was my old bishop! He gave me a ride to the airport. I saved the ticket and put it in my treasure box.”
“Now I get it!” Tasha said. “It’s a treasure because it helps you remember that Heavenly Father heard your prayers.”
“Yep!” said Dad. “It’s the best kind of treasure. And I’m glad I could share it with you.”
“We should write that story down and keep it with the ticket,” Zach said. “It could be a treasure for our whole family!”
“And this could be our family treasure box!” Patrick said, pointing to the box in excitement. “We could all put treasures like that in here.”
“Best idea ever!” said Dad.
Tasha grinned. “I can’t wait to put a treasure in the box!”

I love to feel the Spirit. It’s a feeling I can confidently say I recognize now.

But that took work. Where I grew up in the north of England, it was often hard to place myself in an environment that allowed me to feel the Holy Ghost. There are so many great young adults there who grew up in the Church, yet it was sometimes difficult to align our behaviors with the doctrine and truths we knew in our hearts.

For a long time, I attended church on Sundays but felt frustrated and sad knowing that the things the Spirit was communicating to me were not getting through to others whom I love and care for.

However, I’m learning the importance of making room for the Spirit in all areas of my life and helping others do the same.

After graduating from secondary school, I faced a lot of difficulties. For example, there are lots of activities and conferences for young adult members of the Church where I live. But after these activities, some young adults would go to clubs or places that weren’t aligned with our values.

That shocked me!

Drinking alcohol and clubbing are common here, but I didn’t expect friends I sat by in church to do those things too.

I was confused.

Seeing friends make these decisions made it really hard to know who would help me stay spiritually strong. Eventually, because I saw others living the gospel casually, I was led away from the gospel too. I wasn’t going to church or praying, and I was doing things I shouldn’t have been doing.

But one day, when I was feeling particularly miserable, I prayed to Heavenly Father and told Him my feelings. I told Him I wanted the Church to be true and I wanted to understand His commandments, but it was so hard to even consider standing alone. But I told Him that if I could find reassurance of the truths of the gospel, I would listen and put my heart into living it again.

A few days later, I felt a distinct spiritual impression that I needed to serve a mission.

The thought really came out of nowhere. But I could feel the Spirit nudging me in that direction. I knew that preparing for a mission would enable me to remember my testimony, to rebuild my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and to rely on my own faith—not anyone else’s.

And that was my desire.

So, I started to change. It took a lot of spiritual work. I had to stop hanging out with certain friends, I broke up with the person I was dating, and I had to replace my bad habits with better ones. I worked with my bishop and relied on Jesus Christ’s enabling power to help me move forward.

Before my mission, I didn’t understand commandments and covenants. My friends were treating these blessings like burdens, and I had started seeing them that way too. But after serving a mission and rebuilding my faith, I now see covenants and commandments as blessed responsibilities that help me maintain divine, direct connection with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—every day.

Sometimes it makes me sad that others don’t see the exquisite blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ. At times, I just want to shake them by the shoulders and remind them of the miracle their covenants are! I want them to realize what the Savior can enable them to do and become!

But while I can’t control others, I can keep my testimony strong. I can know when to step away from some people’s influence and also know how to be a good influence on them.

I think that is what brought me back after I struggled with my faith: remembering the love of my Savior, Jesus Christ.

I know I wouldn’t have gone on a mission if I hadn’t asked Heavenly Father for divine direction in a time of deep confusion. As much as I wish I hadn’t had to go through those painful experiences, I learned so much about repentance, about Heavenly Father’s perfect love, and about the importance of prioritizing good relationships (especially with Him and our Savior) that keep us connected to the Spirit.

Despite the hard parts, rebuilding my faith in Him was worth everything.

Specializing in French cooking was quite a challenge for Peter. He relates many experiences, remembering especially the day one customer returned a plate of food with the complaint, “These frog’s legs are too bony.”

“There wasn’t much we could do,” Peter admits. “I’ve yet to find a frog’s leg that’s really meaty.”

Now I think it is folly for one to compare one President of the Church with another. No one takes the place of another President of the Church. Each President has his own place. I had a lesson taught me some years ago when, in company with one of the brethren, I had reorganized the presidency of the Ensign Stake. We had named the bishop of one of the wards as stake president. It was near the end of the year, and he elected to remain as bishop, along with his first counselor, who was a bishop, until they had closed the books at the end of the year.
Six weeks after they were sustained, the stake president suddenly passed away.
Then I began to receive a barrage of letters. Where in the world was the inspiration for you to call a man whom the Lord was going to let die in six weeks? They invited me to talk at his services, and some seemed to be expecting me to try to explain why I had appointed a man that the Lord was going to take home in six weeks.
President Joseph Fielding Smith sat on the stand and heard my attempt to satisfy these people, and he said to me, “Don’t you let that bother you. If you have called a man to a position in this church and he dies the next day, that position would have a bearing on what he will be called to do when he leaves this earth.”
I believe that. I believe that every President of this church, every apostle of this church, every bishop, every stake president, every presiding position will have a bearing on what one is called to do when he leaves this earth.

1. While taking a math test at school, Mark’s teacher called him up to her desk for a moment to speak with him. When he was returning to his seat, Mark happened to notice an answer to a test problem on Frank’s paper. Would it be right for Mark to copy Frank’s answer on his own paper?

When our children were very small, I started to write down a few things about what happened every day. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.