Gospel Story Finder

Wilma Nautu, 19, grew up in Apia, Western Samoa, and arrived in Hawaii to attend BYU—Hawaii in 1998. One of the benefits of attending school there is the opportunity she has to work at the Polynesian Cultural Center (PCC), a Church-owned facility in Laie that celebrates the cultures and traditions of the people of the South Pacific. "I’ve always been dancing. I love it. I love smiling at the people, and it makes me feel good," she says. Wilma does native Samoan dances, as well as Maori dances from New Zealand.

"I always have people waiting to talk to me after a performance, and it’s fun to answer their questions," Wilma adds. "I might be able to help others, but I know my gospel knowledge has increased so much."

But the adversary has never stopped trying. Ninety years ago, in the October conference of 1896, President Wilford Woodruff, then an aged man, standing where I stand in this Tabernacle, said:

“There are two powers on the earth and in the midst of the inhabitants of the earth—the power of God and the power of the devil. In our history we have had some very peculiar experiences. When God has had a people on the earth, it matters not in what age, Lucifer, the son of the morning, and the millions of fallen spirits that were cast out of heaven, have warred against God, against Christ, against the work of God, and against the people of God. And they are not backward in doing it in our day and generation. Whenever the Lord set His hand to perform any work, those powers labored to overthrow it” (Deseret Evening News, 17 Oct. 1896, p. 9).

President Woodruff knew whereof he spoke. He had then only recently passed through those difficult and perilous days when the government of the nation had come against our people, determined to destroy them. The buildings on this Temple Square, this tabernacle in which we meet tonight and the temple then under construction, were escheated to the federal government. Many citizens were disfranchised. But in faith they moved forward. They kept going. They put their trust in the Almighty, and He revealed unto them the path they should follow. In faith they accepted that revelation and walked in obedience.

In September 2021, before the general conference, I visited the holy temple. I felt truly happy, telling my Heavenly Father about the joy and progress in my life, work, Church, and with my children. Having been divorced for nearly five years, I was content and hoped to remain that way.
The following week, a gentleman named José, that I knew somewhat through his daughter, sent me a friend request on Facebook. I was surprised, but nevertheless, we began chatting. During that time, my grandmother was very ill in the hospital. The night before she passed, I reached out to him for comfort, and he was there for me, even at 5:00 in the morning. His support meant a lot during that difficult time.
After my grandmother’s funeral on October 16, 2021, I asked José to meet and talk. I remember arriving at the restaurant, and he was waiting for me outside; we greeted each other with a hug and talked for several hours. On that first date, he told me, “I want to get married, and if it were with you, even better.”
From then on, we felt an incredible bond, as if we had known each other forever. Just days later, we knew we wanted to be together for life and decided to get married six months later.
Despite some challenges, we married civilly on April 8, 2022, in a small but joyful ceremony. We were sealed for eternity on December 17, 2022, in the Monterrey Mexico Temple.

“All my life, from the time I have been a young boy and as far back as I can remember, I have had experiences feeling of the Holy Ghost. … But I’ve never felt what I have felt as I have … participated in the assigning of missionaries. …
“We go into a room, and … it will be a two- or three-hour session and sometimes longer. Because of technology, it is possible for us to have your picture and the information about you displayed. And then quickly, on that same screen, all the missions of the Church with all of their needs are displayed. Within minutes, and sometimes less than a minute, the impression comes so powerfully that it would be, if it were a single instance, something that you would never forget. Can you imagine sitting there for hours at a time, having that happen time after time without interruption? I testify to you that it is real. …
“… In a world so large, the Creator … somehow not only knows you but loves you enough to ensure that your call is where He needs you to go to teach the children of our Heavenly Father.”Elder Henry B. Eyring of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “Called of God” (devotional address delivered at the Provo Missionary Training Center, Aug. 26, 1997).

The week I stayed with Uncle Alex and Aunt Cindy was the week their garden cranked out a year’s supply of zucchini. Uncle Alex called it the “Zucchini Explosion.”
Uncle Alex is a lot like me, only grown up. We even have the same name, sort of. You see, my name is Elliot Alexander Cranton. His name is Alexander Elliot Cranton. Aunt Cindy says we’re quite a pair.
We ate supper on the patio the first night, and there it was on my plate—zucchini. Uncle Alex is a lot of fun, and I like Aunt Cindy too. But zucchini and I don’t get along at all. They look like giant cucumbers, and they just mush around in your mouth.
I ate as much as I could stand, then spread the rest around on my plate. I didn’t want to hurt Aunt Cindy’s feelings, but I didn’t want to eat the zucchini, either.
After supper three of Aunt Cindy’s friends stopped by to visit.
“Would you like to take home some zucchini?” she asked them.
“My family won’t eat them,” said the tall one.
“My family won’t touch them,” said the short one.
“My family won’t even look at them,” said the one in between.
I wasn’t surprised.
Uncle Alex and I excused ourselves and went to catch lightning bugs.
We caught about twenty-five and put them into a jar. I thought the breathing holes in the lid were small enough when I took the jar into the kitchen, but I guess they weren’t.
I don’t know why Aunt Cindy was so upset. Only one got on her foot. The rest were on the ceiling. And the walls. And the floor.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” she shouted, “get these bugs out of my kitchen!”
“If you insist, but we sure could have saved on the electric bill,” Uncle Alex joked.
The next night we ate in the kitchen. We had a zucchini casserole. I offered to scrape the dishes so that Aunt Cindy wouldn’t see how much I’d left on my plate.
After dinner, Uncle Alex and I hunted for fishing worms. We put them into a paper cup with some dirt, then put the cup into the refrigerator to keep the worms fresh.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” shouted Aunt Cindy when she looked in the refrigerator, “what’s this next to the zucchini?”
She looked into the cup. “Get these worms out of my kitchen!”
Aunt Cindy did not even want to understand about keeping worms fresh.
We ate in the dining room the next night. We had zucchini with some kind of sauce on them. I’d swallowed more zucchini that week than I’d eaten before in my whole life. But it wasn’t enough for Aunt Cindy.
She looked at our plates and shook her head. “I’ve already put away more zucchini than we’ll need for the winter.”
“Leave the zucchini to us,” said Uncle Alex.
“Sure,” said Aunt Cindy, smiling a little. “You two are just like those zucchini. I don’t know what to do with them, and I don’t know what to do with you!”
After supper I helped Uncle Alex move the picnic table out by the road. We put the zucchini on the table. I made a sign that said ZUCCHINI—20¢ EACH.
Eight cars went by. I changed the price to ten cents.
Fourteen more cars went by. No luck.
I made a new sign that said ZUCCHINI—FREE TO A GOODHOME. Sixteen cars later, we gave up.
“Let’s look in Aunt Cindy’s cookbook,” I suggested. “Maybe we can find a recipe for chocolate-covered zucchini.”
“I’ll try anything,” said Uncle Alex.
We went into the kitchen and got out the cookbook.
“Uncle Alex,” I asked, “why doesn’t Aunt Cindy ever make zucchini bread? It sounds kind of good.”
“It is,” Uncle Alex said. “You don’t even know you’re eating zucchini. Aunt Cindy says it’s fattening.”
“Let’s make some.”
That was when I found out that Uncle Alex is not very handy in the kitchen, especially with messy things like flour and eggs. After we put the bread in the oven and were just starting to clean up, Aunt Cindy came in with her three friends.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” she shouted, “what have you done to my kitchen?”
I don’t know why she was so upset. There was just a little flour on the counter. And on the floor. And on Uncle Alex.
“What is that wonderful smell?” asked Aunt Cindy’s tall friend.
“It’s zucchini bread,” I told her.
“How delightful!” said the short one.
“It does smell delicious,” said the one in between.
When the bread was done, Uncle Alex cut a slice for each of us, even Aunt Cindy.
It was really good, and it didn’t mush around in my mouth.
Uncle Alex gave each lady the recipe and a big sack full of zucchini.
“Oh, thank you,” said the tall one.
“How thoughtful of you,” said the short one.
“Are you sure you don’t want to keep some for yourselves?” asked the one in between.
The next day, Uncle Alex and I picked three zucchini from the garden. We took them in to Aunt Cindy.
“Alexander Elliot and Elliot Alexander,” she shouted, “get those zucchini out of my kitchen!”

My parents taught me gospel truths and helped me understand that commandments are given by a loving Heavenly Father to make us happy. I felt a greater desire to live the commandments because of my trust in and love for my parents. Because of their example of goodness and love for me, it was easy for me to trust them and, in turn, to trust in my Heavenly Father. I learned there is wisdom in following the Lord’s commandment to honor our father and our mother (see Exodus 20:12).
I, like Nephi, was blessed with good parents, and I trusted in what they taught me. Because of their faith and teachings, the small seed of faith began to grow in me. As a result, I have always believed in Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, and that the Church is true. At some point, through my own study of the scriptures, my own prayer, and my own experience in receiving powerful impressions of the Spirit, my testimony has become strong and independent of my parents. Today it affects every aspect of what I do and what I strive to be. For that, I honor my parents.

In May 1833, my fourth-great-grandfather Asahel Perry and some friends traveled from northern New York to Kirtland, Ohio. They weren’t members of the newly restored Church, but they wanted to meet the Prophet Joseph Smith. They arrived just in time to attend the first council held to discuss the building of the Kirtland Temple.
After beginning the council, the Prophet presented the business of building the temple. Then he called upon those present to express their feelings related to such a large undertaking. Most responded that the Church was too poor to tackle such a task. They proposed construction of a smaller, less-expensive building.
During the ensuing discussion, Grandpa Perry and his friends huddled, took out their money, and added it up. Did they have enough to pay for their return trip and contribute to the temple’s construction? A few minutes later, my grandfather approached Joseph Smith, pulled out a five-dollar gold coin, and presented it to the Prophet. (Such a coin today would be worth hundreds of dollars!)
Joseph stood before the council and held up the coin. Then, speaking energetically, he said that “the work had commenced and the House [of the Lord] would be built according to the pattern presented” by the Lord Jesus Christ.
The Perry family soon joined the Church in Kirtland, received their temple blessings a few years later in the Nauvoo Temple, and later crossed the plains to Utah.

Another experience I’ve had of receiving personal revelation was when I served as a stake patriarch. I was amazed and so humbled to receive revelation from the Holy Ghost each time I laid my hands upon the heads of those members who came to receive their patriarchal blessing. On every occasion, the clear inspiration I received was profoundly instilled in my mind and I was able to bestow upon each person the blessings that God, their Father, wanted them to receive. My task was to listen carefully . . . and to verbalize that which I had received.

Perhaps a personal experience will help to illustrate the point. When I was a young resident physician at Boston Children’s Hospital, I worked long hours and traveled between the hospital and our home in Watertown, Massachusetts, mostly by bicycle since my wife and young family needed our car. One evening I was riding home after a long period in the hospital, feeling tired and hungry and at least a bit discouraged. I knew I needed to give my wife and four small children not only my time and energy when I got home but also a cheery attitude. I was, frankly, finding it hard to just keep pedaling.
My route would take me past a fried chicken shop, and I felt like I would be a lot less hungry and tired if I could pause for a piece of chicken on my way home. I knew they were running a sale on thighs or drumsticks for 29 cents each, but when I checked my wallet, all I had was one nickel. As I rode along, I told the Lord my situation and asked if, in His mercy, He could let me find a quarter on the side of the road. I told Him that I didn’t need this as a sign but that I would be really grateful if He felt to grant me this kind blessing.
I began watching the ground more intently but saw nothing. Trying to maintain a faith-filled but submissive attitude as I rode, I approached the store. Then, almost exactly across the street from the chicken place, I saw a quarter on the ground. With gratitude and relief, I picked it up, bought the chicken, savored every morsel, and rode happily home.
In His mercy, the God of heaven, the Creator and Ruler of all things everywhere, had heard a prayer about a very minor thing. One might well ask why He would concern Himself with something so small. I am led to believe that our Heavenly Father loves us so much that the things that are important to us become important to Him, just because He loves us. How much more would He want to help us with the big things that we ask which are right? (see 3 Nephi 18:20).

The Explorer of Barkham Street The ex-Bully of Barkham Street is not an explorer—he’s nothing but a not-by-choice loner, a nobody. Then slowly he takes command of his life, starting with a diet and a baby-sitting job.Mary Stolz9–11 years

Back in grandma and grandpa’s days they had an incredibly delicious way of cooling off on hot summer afternoons. During the hottest months of the year on those long, lazy Saturdays, the old horse was hitched to the buggy and the whole family would climb in and ride off to a cool mountain or shady glen. Everyone had his favorite out-of-the-way place to go, maybe a meadow by a cold stream or the shade of a willow tree down by the river.
Once there, fresh fruit, fresh milk, eggs, and cream were poured into a crank ice-cream maker. Ice, frozen in the winter and kept buried in sawdust, was chipped into chunks and placed with rock salt into the bucket of the ice-cream maker. (The salt lowers the melting temperature of the ice and aids in freezing the ice cream.) The ingredients had to be cranked for over an hour while ice and salt were added to the bucket to replace the melting ice. The ice cream was ready when the handle became very hard to turn. Maybe it was the fresh ingredients, the effort of turning the crank, or maybe it was the cold, sweet taste on a hot, hot day, but it was great.

On June 20, 1856, the anchor of the Mormon charter ship Horizon had barely plopped into Boston Harbor when a small sailboat tied up next to her. Barnard, hoping to welcome his family to America, climbed aboard from the sailboat. Mother White spotted her son, started to rejoice, but gulped when she saw his clothes. Eighteen-year-old sister Elizabeth was shocked too and broke into tears: “My poor brother Barnard!” she sobbed. “What have they done to you?” No broadcloth suit. No silk hat. Common laborer’s pants and shirt. Ugly work boots. However, the reunion soon showed the Whites that their teenager had become a man during his 11 months in America, and they liked his maturity.

“Six years ago my wife, Sachiko, died from cancer. Others worried that our family of seven children might fall apart without a mother, but that is the way the world thinks. We knew there is great strength in the gospel, so we continued to have family home evening and family prayer and scripture study. These have been very helpful in strengthening our family bonds.
“Because we had the gospel in our home, our children knew where their mother was. The gospel blessed their lives, and they felt that they needed to share those blessings with others. The children have gone on missions, one after another.”—Masahiro Yonamine, Japan

During their early years in the Church, Jorge and Zorka faced serious economic challenges. On one occasion they desperately needed money to buy shoes and other essentials for their four children. But the only money they had was what they had set aside as tithing. Should they “borrow” that money temporarily to buy the shoes? Sister Leaño expressed her deep feelings that the money was not theirs to borrow and that they should quickly pay their tithing rather than be tempted to use the money for something else.

Brother Leaño immediately sought out branch leaders and gave them the tithing. On the way home, he wondered, Now what will we do? Where will we get the money we need? Arriving home, Jorge learned to his surprise and gratitude that his children had discovered a 100-boliviano bill inside a small plastic flower vase they had found. The money was sufficient to buy the much-needed shoes. Since that day, Brother Leaño has eagerly borne his testimony of the law of tithing.

Elder Russell M. Nelson: “When I was working at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, two professional colleagues, a husband and wife, asked me about the Mormons. I gave them a preliminary overview and lent them my Book of Mormon. After about a week they returned the book to me and said, ‘Thanks a lot.’

“I said, ‘What do you mean, “Thanks a lot?”’ As one who deeply loves this book, I felt that was an inadequate response. ‘Perhaps you didn’t really read the book,’ I said. ‘Please take it back and read it. When you have read it, I would very much appreciate knowing of your feelings and insight.’

“They retrieved the book, acknowledging that they had only thumbed the pages. About three weeks later they came back with tears in their eyes and said, ‘We know this book is true. How can we learn more?’

“Then I said, ‘Now I know you’ve read the book. Now we can proceed.’ In due course, they were baptized.

“The Book of Mormon has great convincing power as another witness for Jesus Christ. There is no other explanation for its existence than that which the Prophet Joseph Smith gave.”

Membership records for the Salisbury Branch do not appear to have survived, but these are some of the other individuals associated with the town who were also early members of the Church.
Three siblings from the Blake family: Emma who was baptised in 1850 and emigrated in 1851; Elizabeth, her sister, who emigrated in 1873 with husband Richard and three daughters; their brother Benjamin, baptised in 1851 with his wife Harriet. They emigrated in 1853 with their five children. Benjamin and Harriet had lived on the High Street in Salisbury.

As children living in Argentina, Andrea Veronica Muñoz and her older sister attended a Catholic school. They had never been exposed to other religious teachings until Andrea was nine years old. That’s when Latter-day Saint missionaries began teaching her family about the restored gospel.
Soon after the missionaries finished their lesson and left, Andrea’s mother explained that there was more than just one religion. Andrea asked her mother what church she thought best represented God. Her mother replied, “I think it is this one”—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, about which the missionaries had just taught them.
All her life, Andrea had always “wanted to please God,” so she worried about embracing a new faith. The feeling lasted only a few minutes, however, and was replaced by a desire to learn more about the Church.
The family was baptized, “and we started a new life,” Sister Spannaus said. “It was really wonderful the way our family life changed for all of us.”

Growing up in Ghana, my journey through high school was fraught with obstacles.
Most high schools at that time required tuition, and my family struggled financially. My uncle graciously offered to support my education, allowing me to move in with him and continue my studies. However, financial difficulties were common, and my uncle could not always cover my fees. Failing to pay led to me being sent home, which unfortunately became my reality multiple times, along with other punishments.
In the midst of my struggles, I often felt disheartened as I watched other children with better opportunities. Yet these challenges became the backdrop for a transformative experience in my life.
While living with my uncle and his family, they introduced me to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They devoted time each week to home evening, scripture study, and daily prayer. After a year of attending church and seminary with them, at the age of 17, I made the sacred decision to be baptized.

“Never before have I felt like I did while reading the Book of Mormon this time,” says Brandon Merchant, a priest from Green River, Wyoming. “Never have I been able to relate so much information to myself and the world. I can see Satan’s traps easier; I can more quickly and efficiently answer questions from people investigating the Church. I guess it is true what they say—if you study it, the information will be available at the time you need. I understand the meanings and teachings more than I ever have. It is almost impossible to describe the great feelings and understanding that I have received.”

I was raised in a wonderful but less-active family. I wasn’t accustomed to hearing testimonies borne of the truthfulness of the gospel within my home. So even though I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah, in a predominantly Latter-day Saint environment, I didn’t grow up in a typical Latter-day Saint family. We didn’t hold family home evening or gather for family prayer. Many of the Church practices that my friends were used to were a little foreign to me.
By virtue of this home environment, I was probably one of the least likely to stand and bear my testimony in front of a large seminary gathering. I was also a rather shy 15-year-old, so I was quite surprised when I found myself standing at a microphone in front of 300 seminary students. But I was comfortable because of what I felt deep inside. Even today, I still remember the overwhelming prompting by the Spirit to stand and bear my testimony in that seminary meeting.
I don’t remember the exact words I spoke, but I will never forget the burning in my heart, the sure witness I received that the Church is true. I remember well the feeling of the Spirit of the Holy Ghost that descended upon me as I bore witness to the truthfulness of this Church.
Before that day I believed the Church was true. I liked the Church. I thought it was good, and I participated in it. But at that defining moment in my life, I knew the Church was true. I couldn’t deny it, and no one could take that testimony away from me.
Since that day in seminary, I have shared my testimony thousands of times. I remember some of these other occasions, but none have been quite so dramatic for me or have been so influential in shaping my future as that first instance when I was a teenager. One of the reasons this event made such a lasting impression on me is because I was about the same age as the Prophet Joseph Smith when he saw Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, and learned that he would be instrumental in restoring the true Church to the earth.
The experience of bearing my testimony and gaining a sure witness was a turning point in my life in many ways. When instruction comes from the Lord to you, it is the greatest thing you will ever learn. Because of this testimony, I wanted to serve, to become a better student, and to develop better social and personal skills. My desire to learn more about the scriptures was greatly increased. I had more purpose in life. I knew that as I kept myself worthy, I would be permitted to preach the gospel.
I also realized that God knew who I was. That was one of the really important things that surprised me and changed me. I was His son! Once you know who you are, you want to be better. There comes a power in that knowledge—a power you can get only through the inspiration of our Heavenly Father.
As I look back on this experience, I believe that Heavenly Father wanted to give me an opportunity to develop some attributes and skills so He could work with me a little easier. I think He also wanted to get me thinking about serving a mission, which was not something that was encouraged in my home. As a young teen, I hadn’t thought much about a mission. But through my testimony experience, I knew for the first time that I wanted to serve a mission. Many other experiences reinforced that desire, but that was the first instance that I knew I wanted to go. I knew my Father in Heaven wanted me to serve a full-time mission to share what I now knew with His children.