Gospel Story Finder

In 1849, President Brigham Young called a small number of men to travel to various parts of the world to preach the gospel. A former Swedish sailor, John Forsgren, who had joined the Church in Massachusetts, USA, and traveled to the Salt Lake Valley, asked President Young to be sent to Sweden as a missionary. He was called to serve and arrived in Sweden in June 1850.
Elder Forsgren first visited his younger siblings in Gävle. His brother Peter was ill, and doctors said he was beyond help. Elder Forsgren explained the purpose of his mission to his siblings, then anointed and blessed Peter, who was restored to full health. On July 19, 1850, Elder Forsgren baptized his brother, who became the first convert in Sweden.
In 1850 Peter Forsgren, above, was baptized by his brother John.
Photograph courtesy of Susan Easton Black

Repeating the words of an Apostle, David said, “Fear is a chief weapon of Satan in making mankind unhappy.”1
David Ikegami, a deacon from Oahu, Hawaii, had an assignment to speak during a Sunday mission conference. Seven months ago he had lived through one of the worst Christmases ever—not just for his family, but for the whole country. He chose to speak out against fear.
He would know a thing or two about fear. The year was 1942. Months earlier, the scenic island where David’s family lived had been turned upside down with destruction as Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. The day after that devastating attack, the United States entered World War II.
Fear for the future still covered the land like a blanket. To make matters more difficult, Japanese-Americans, such as the Ikegami family, lived with serious racial prejudice after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Life was neither simple nor easy for this young man.
Seven months ago he had lived through one of the worst Christmases ever.
So how did he find peace? For one thing, he focused on serving. He joined a group who helped to build trails and clear thorny kiawe trees from trails for military camps. Meanwhile, his family joined fundraising efforts to help the U.S. soldiers. These funds were used for everything from buying books to movie screens and projectors to help raise morale.
David then said, again quoting the same Apostle, Elder John A Widtsoe, “There is safety wherever the people of the Lord live so worthily as to claim the sacred title of citizens of the Zion of our Lord.”2
David found peace by focusing on Jesus Christ.3

For my eighth birthday, my dad decided to take me to general conference. He tried really hard to get tickets, but he couldn’t find any. We decided to just try and get tickets the day of conference before it started. It was pouring rain. We were asking people if they had any extra tickets, but no one did. My dad asked a man if he had any extras. He said he didn’t, then he turned around and said, “Actually, I do have one extra ticket,” and he gave it to us. Then another kind woman gave us a ticket. During conference, I felt a good feeling inside. Afterward, my dad and I said a prayer thanking Heavenly Father for all the special things He did for us that day.

When my four sons were all at home, my husband, Joe, and I spent many summer days hiking with them. Our favorite places to hike were in the high mountains. We all loved the challenge of a tough climb up and then that exhilarating moment of standing at what seemed to be the top of the world. We would carefully scan the horizon, relishing the sight of other peaks and valleys.
One of the best adventures of my life was the day we climbed three adjacent mountain passes. Beginning early in the morning, we began our ascent, moving ever higher. The hike proved long and demanding, yet each view held its own majesty and perspective. My satisfaction at what I saw far exceeded any weariness I felt. I have never forgotten the awe and accomplishment I experienced when I stood at the top of a mountain and looked out on this wide and wonderful world.

One day, a few months after my baptism, I heard some members criticizing each other in church. I was very disappointed. I went home and told my father that maybe I should not go to church anymore. It was difficult to see members criticize others like that. After listening, my father taught me that the gospel had been restored and it is perfect but members are not yet, neither himself nor me. He firmly said, “Do not lose your faith because of the people around you, but build a strong relationship with Jesus Christ. Don’t look around, look up!”
Look up to Jesus Christ—the wise advice of my father—strengthens my faith whenever I face challenges in life. He taught me how to apply the teachings of Christ, as in these words: “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”

Boys were mean. By the time I was in fifth grade, I knew that for sure. One time some boys stole my favorite umbrella and smashed the handle. Another time they chased me across the playground with spiders. They even made fun of the way I kicked and threw a ball. I did not like boys.
One rainy day, my class had to stay inside for recess. So I found a board game for my friends and me to play. As we set up the game, a boy named David walked over to us.
“Can I play too?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. My friends stared at him. I didn’t remember David being mean to me before, but that didn’t matter. He was still a boy.
“Don’t talk to us,” I said. I glanced at my friends. They nodded. So I called David a mean name.
My friends laughed. “This is a girls-only game,” one of them said.
“OK,” David mumbled. He frowned and walked away.
My friends finished setting up the game, still laughing. I looked over my shoulder and saw David sitting alone, reading a book. He looked like he might cry.
I felt awful. I’d made David feel bad. For no reason. Just like those boys had made me feel with the umbrella and the spiders. Maybe boys weren’t the only ones who could be mean. And girls weren’t the only ones who got hurt.
“I don’t feel like playing anymore,” I told my friends.
I went back to my desk and put my head down. Why had I been so mean? Maybe I’d been afraid David would be like those boys who’d been mean to me before. But he wasn’t. And now I felt terrible. It would’ve been much better to be kind, like Jesus.
I closed my eyes and prayed. Heavenly Father, please forgive me. I don’t want to be mean like that again.
Over the next few days, I tried to remember that not all boys were mean. In fact, some of them were really nice. One boy in P.E. class even made sure the girls got as many turns with the soccer ball as the boys.
It took me a couple of days to get the courage to talk to David. I still felt so bad about everything! It wasn’t easy, but I finally talked to him during art time. I took a deep breath. “Nice drawing, David. I really like that horse.”
“Uh, thanks.” David barely looked up from his drawing. He probably thought I’d say something mean again.
So I smiled my nicest smile and kept talking as we worked. I hoped my friendliness showed I wasn’t really mean and that I was sorry for what I’d said before. By the end of art time, David was talking too. He even told some great jokes.
When I accidentally spilled paint on our table, he helped me clean it up. He didn’t get mad, even though some of it got on his paper.
When we mess up, we can repent. Go to “Family Fun Time” for an activity to learn more.
David could have gotten mad or said something mean, like I’d done. But he didn’t. Being nice really was better.

There sits in this hall a man known to many of you. Some years ago he received a missionary call to the Western States Mission with headquarters in Denver. He had been to Denver a number of times as a member of the university debate team. It was only over the mountain. He and his parents had dreamed of a more exotic field, of one of those “faraway places with the strange-sounding names.” His friends smiled. Some dear to him doubted the wisdom, the inspiration of his call. Why should so choice a young man be called on a mission from Salt Lake City to Denver? But he went. He became a powerful missionary. There are those today who thank the Lord for his coming. He was named counselor to his mission president and experienced marvelous opportunities for training in leadership. He met there a beautiful girl whom he later married. Out of the remarkable and peculiar opportunities of that mission, there emerged within him qualities that have made him preeminent in his chosen vocation. Today he sits here as one of the Regional Representatives of the Twelve.
I think I should add that a man who sits here behind me, President Harold B. Lee, went to the same field, under similar circumstances, and out of that obedience came some of those great and marvelous qualities which we have witnessed in his life, and for which we dearly love him.

Among the thousands of servicemen killed in the attack on Pearl Harbor was a sailor by the name of William Ball, from Fredericksburg, Iowa. What distinguished him from so many others who died on that day in 1941 was not any special act of heroism, but the tragic chain of events his death set in motion at home.
When William’s boyhood buddies, the five Sullivan brothers from the nearby town of Waterloo, received word of his death, they marched out together to enlist in the navy. The Sullivans, who wished to avenge their friend, insisted that they remain together, and the navy granted their wish. On November 14, 1942, the cruiser on which the brothers served, the U.S.S. Juneau, was hit and sunk in a battle off Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands.
Almost two months went by before Mrs. Thomas Sullivan received the news, which arrived not by the usual telegram, but by special envoy: all five of her sons were reported missing in action in the South Pacific and presumed dead. Their bodies were never recovered.
One sentence only, spoken by one person only, provides a fitting epitaph: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13.)

I consider June 2, 1940, to be a very important day in the history of my family. On this day my father was baptized into this Church.
Writing to his father, Elder Jack McDonald, one of the missionaries who baptized my father, described the day with these words:
“Last Sunday was an especially beautiful day. We missionaries went out to a secluded spot on the river’s edge, out in the country, and there Elder Jones and I [Elder McDonald] made our first baptism. Antony Aidukaitis entered into the icy waters and became a member of the Church. … Everything was perfect. The sky so blue, the countryside so still, so green, so lovely that none of us could help feeling the presence of some great influence.
“[As we walked] with our new member, he said that he just couldn’t explain how wonderful this day had been for him, how he actually felt like a new man. … That was our first baptism—no credit to me or anybody. He converted himself.”
This event changed the history of my life. I am not sure my father was able to foresee the wisdom of his act, but I love him for what he did that day. He passed away more than 30 years ago, but I will honor and bless his name forever.
I admire the courage my father had to be baptized into the Church in spite of the circumstances he faced at the time. It was not easy for him. His wife did not get baptized with him. The vices of drinking alcohol and smoking were strong temptations for him. He was poor. His mother was against his joining the Church, and she told him that if he were baptized, she would no longer consider him her son. With fewer than 300 members in Brazil, the Church did not have a single chapel there. I am truly astonished by my father’s determination and courage.
How could he make such a decision in the face of so many unfavorable circumstances? The answer is simple: it was because my father read the Book of Mormon. When he read it, he came to know of the truthfulness of the message of the Restoration. The Book of Mormon is a proof that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. Preach My Gospel teaches that “the Book of Mormon, combined with the Spirit, is [the] most powerful resource in conversion” ([2004], 104).

The revelation in Doctrine and Covenants 71 tells Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon to go and preach in an effort to ease unfriendly feelings that had arisen against the Church due to criticisms from members who had lost their faith. Over 100 years later, Elder Spencer W. Kimball of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles had a similar experience preaching in defense of the Church.
During a visit to Otavalo, Ecuador, in 1965, Elder Kimball told the missionaries to present the Book of Mormon to the native Otavalans. However, the missionaries met resistance when Otavalans began spreading lies about them in the nearby villages, and the missionaries struggled to overcome the falsehoods.
Two years later, Elder Kimball joined a few members and missionaries in a meeting near a local bus stop. As local residents got off buses, missionaries invited them to hear from a living Apostle of Jesus Christ. Soon, about 20 people gathered. As the missionaries started their meeting, the crowd grew to more than 100.
Then Elder Kimball spoke. He told of the coming of Jesus Christ in the Americas. He pointed to the sky and spoke of the still, small voice from the heavens that announced the appearance of the Son of God, as found in the Book of Mormon. Elder Kimball recalled, “Every eye followed my motion to the sky as though the Savior were actually there coming through the thin clouds.”1
After this, missionaries kept trying to teach Otavalans. Sister missionaries taught a man named Rafael Tabango, who was baptized on July 14, 1968—the first native Otavalo Latter-day Saint. His wife, Teresa, also joined the Church. Less than 15 years later, a stake was organized in Otavalo, with Brother Tabango called as its first patriarch.

During the 150th anniversary of the pioneers’ arrival in the Salt Lake Valley, Brother Myron Richins was serving as a stake president in Henefer, Utah. The celebration included a reenactment of the pioneers’ passage through his town.
President Richins was heavily involved with the plans for the celebration, and he attended many meetings with General Authorities and others to discuss the events. He was fully engaged.
Just before the actual celebration, President Richins’s stake was reorganized, and he was released as president. On a subsequent Sunday, he was attending his ward priesthood meeting when the leaders asked for volunteers to help with the celebration. President Richins, along with others, raised his hand and was given instructions to dress in work clothes and to bring his truck and a shovel.
Finally, the morning of the big event came, and President Richins reported to volunteer duty.
Only a few weeks before, he had been an influential contributor to the planning and supervision of this major event. On that day, however, his job was to follow the horses in the parade and clean up after them.
President Richins did so gladly and joyfully.
He understood that one kind of service is not above another.
He knew and put into practice the words of the Savior: “He that is greatest among you shall be your servant.”9

When I turned eight, I was finally old enough to have my own FamilySearch account! At first I was nervous, but my parents and siblings taught me how to index and create my family tree so I could help my ancestors. After that, I no longer felt nervous. I felt supported and prepared.
Then I felt the desire to become a family history reviewer like my parents and siblings. I chose that to be one of my goals for the Children and Youth program. To reach this goal, I had to index 1,000 records.
Sometimes I felt overwhelmed. But my parents reminded me that I wouldn’t do it all in one day. Instead, I should focus on doing just three records a day, and before a year I would meet my goal. They said if I had a hard time understanding the images, they would help me.
I prayed to Heavenly Father so that He could help me meet my goal. I felt much better after my prayer.
I didn’t give up and continued to index day after day. After a year, before I turned nine, I had already indexed over 1,000 records and had been given the reviewer status. I was very excited!
Now I always go with my parents to the Trujillo Peru Temple. I help print the ordinance cards, cut them out, and give them to each family member so they can perform the ordinances while I wait in the temple gardens. Soon I will be able to go inside to do baptisms.
I am 10 years old now and already have 15,100 records indexed! I am very happy and excited to continue to reach my goals to be more like Jesus Christ.

The second reason he listed was: The bishop would find out.
He’d find out because I’d end up telling him, he thought.
It was only a month ago since he had had an interview with the bishop.
“Are you morally clean?”
“I think so.”
The bishop didn’t leave it at that. “What does it mean to you to be morally clean?”
“Well, you know,” he stammered, “keeping your body clean, and things like that.”
“Okay—what kinds of things?”
Bit by bit Troy told what he understood. With each new addition to the definition, the bishop had asked, “And are you free from that problem?”
At that time the bishop was satisfied. But if he pushed the “C” button, the next interview would be different, because he knew he wouldn’t lie to the bishop.
The bishop would be disappointed in me, he thought, staring again at the “C” button.

As I interact with other young single adults, I’ve noticed that sometimes it can be easy to be so focused on our marital status that we don’t pay attention to those around us. For example, when I first started attending a family ward rather than a young adult ward, I believed I deserved extra attention, pity, and looking after because I was single. I have yet to find an instance when having such an attitude ever did me any good.
During the first year in my ward, I was surprised that many of my other ideas turned out to be myths. I learned that married people can be friends with single people and that I could make a difference in people’s lives. Some mothers are overjoyed to have a friend come over for a visit when their husbands are gone for work or Church callings. Parents are often grateful when an adult can provide some individual attention to their children, and most are quite willing to “lend out” their children for movies or other activities.
I also learned that I was not the only person who was single. Other ward members are empty nesters, divorced, or widowed and also struggle to deal with life’s issues on their own. And despite my belief that married people are happier, I met some who dealt with depression, job loss, or disabled or wayward children. Those with such struggles always appreciate a listening ear.
But these realizations and friendships did not happen instantly. They took time and effort as I consistently attended my Church meetings, served in callings, and looked for opportunities to help. When my bishop asked me to teach the six-year-olds, I felt inadequate. However, after my first month, several parents thanked me, saying how much their children enjoyed coming to class. To this day some of my closest friends in the ward are family members of those children.
I try to always be available to help others in my ward, but on occasion I have been the one in need of service. Once when I needed to paint a room in my home before moving, I was in the middle of final exams and also had to leave town for a wedding. When I mentioned these circumstances to a sister in my ward, she told me she would get some other sisters together to paint the room. Their service saved me lots of time and money.
The members of my ward seem not to define me by my marital status because I don’t define myself by it. In conversation I don’t bring up my lack of a spouse; instead, I talk about my job, studies, hobbies, and immediate family. By my focusing on these topics, people often see that there is more to me than what is lacking.
A wise friend once told me that friendship is a two-way road; you can’t give some without receiving some in return. I realize that all my friendships will never provide me with the same experiences that a spouse and children would, but I also know that Heavenly Father loves all His children. No matter our circumstances in life, it is possible to feel loved and accepted.

Lately our family had been praying to strengthen the family bond. The answer to our prayer really came in a shocking way. Can you imagine this? Three teenagers and a nine-year-old down with the chicken pox the last week of summer vacation. We had to live together 24 hours a day in the same house for a week and a half straight. That was a trial! We all learned to get along. Each day we compared our skin to see whose was worse. My oldest brother won. We made this awful experience fun. We talked about walking down the beach looking like this in our swimsuits and other crazy ideas that made the situation seem funny. Unfortunately it did not ease the itch. We decided to be more specific when we prayed. We are all involved with each others’ lives and feelings. We are now closer than ever.

I know of a widowed father who was reluctant to live with his daughter who resided in another state. She thanked him for the privilege of taking him into her home, insisting that she now would be able to demonstrate her love for all she had received from her parents. She felt selfish in finally having him to herself. Upon his death, she told me how blessed she was to have had those last precious years with her father.

Alma’s teachings were very instrumental in my intention to serve a mission. Although my grandmother ensured that I was baptized when I was eight years old, I seldom attended church in my youth. When missionaries crossed my path when I was a young adult and I began thinking about the Church, I started to study the scriptures. Alma’s discussion about being compelled to be humble versus choosing to be humble caught my attention (see Alma 32:13–15). I felt inadequate because of my shortcomings, but I gave it some serious thought—deciding to serve a mission would require significant change. I already had a career and my own business, and I wanted to marry my girlfriend (who, by the way, is now my wife). Could I give all of that up to serve the Lord?
I went to a private place and took time—real time—to pray and commune with my Heavenly Father. In humbling myself, I came to recognize that Heavenly Father did want me to serve. I decided to follow His word, and in doing so, I found the truth of Alma’s promise: “He that truly humbleth himself, and repenteth of his sins, and endureth to the end, the same shall be blessed—yea, much more blessed than they who are compelled to be humble” (Alma 32:15).
Even though I was well over age 26, I went to my bishop, who helped prepare me. I submitted my mission papers and waited for months. Finally, I received a call telling me I was not eligible to serve a full-time mission but that I could serve in public communications, the field I was already working in. It was an exciting time. I was trained and then appeared in media discussions soon after the Church in Mexico was officially recognized by the Mexican government. I helped stakes train their public affairs specialists and established relationships with government officials. This opportunity to serve blessed me in more ways than I can describe and in ways I never could have anticipated. It affected many aspects of my life for good.

When I was a child in Samoa, my friends and I never seemed to get tired of swimming. It was our favorite thing to do. I remember that as a four-year-old I even wanted to go swimming with my friends on Sunday after Sunday School—as if there weren’t enough hours for playing together in six days a week. But I was reared in a good Latter-day Saint home, and I recall vividly how my wonderful mother worked with me to keep the Sabbath day holy.
Mother solved the problem by directing me toward the scriptures. Knowing how much I liked to show off by reciting from books, she asked me how I would like to learn to read and recite passages from the scriptures. I jumped for joy at the opportunity, so she said to me, “All right, I’ll meet with you every Sunday after dinner to help you learn passages from these two books”—she held up the Bible and the Book of Mormon.
The first passages I learned to repeat from memory were the Ten Commandments and the first Psalm. Then I learned to recite the story of Lehi’s family from the Book of Mormon. Naturally, the more I learned, the more the principles contained in these scriptures became a part of my life—something that was strengthened by the example of my parents, who lived the gospel very faithfully in our home. By the time I left home for college in 1962, the teachings of my parents were well planted in me.

Thirteen years ago, as a mission president in Japan, I received a call from a young serviceman’s wife who needed to see me. Her husband, an air force pilot, had just been shot down and had died in combat over Vietnam. As she was ushered into my office, I saw her hugging a large picture. We sat down to talk and she showed me the picture of her husband, a handsome pilot with his helmet in his hands, standing proudly beside his jet fighter plane.
She sobbingly said how much she loved him and couldn’t believe that he was gone. She continued by saying that she was a convert of nearly two years. She had met her husband while in college, and it was he who had introduced her to the gospel. Later she was baptized, and they were sealed in the temple for time and all eternity.
Her life with him had been beautiful and everything a person could ask for. She had looked toward the future with great joy and anticipation. But now, all too soon, it had come to a sudden, crashing halt.
She had a great adjustment to make in her life and wanted assurance that all would be well. What would your counsel be to her?

Name: Seneca Francis
Age: 17
Location: Smithfield, Utah
Noteworthy experience: In October 2008 she participated in the Youth World Championship archery competition in Antalya, Turkey, where she helped the U.S. team win a gold medal. They defeated the Russian team 224 to 223 and set a world record in the 16–18-year-old compound bow category.
Seneca Francis is a straight shooter in more ways than one. Her archery skills have led to great accomplishments. And when it comes to her commitment to gospel standards, she’ll let you know that she’s aiming for eternity. Find out a little more about her.
You’re a relative newcomer to archery, yet you compete at a world-class level. How did it all start? I’ve been doing archery for about four years. My brother had a bow, and I started shooting and liked it more than he did. I would go into the backyard and shoot at the tree stump. I started competition about three years ago. At first I went to a youth league. Then they sent me to JOAD [Junior Olympic Archery Development] because it’s more advanced.
What was it like competing in the Youth World Championship in Turkey? It was fun. My mom went with me. It was my first time going anywhere outside of the states around us. It was a totally different culture. It was fun and interesting to see how other people live. I met some good friends on other teams, and we keep in touch.
Did you have any experiences that strengthened your testimony? We were about the only Church members at the competition, so that was kind of weird for me. But it makes you stronger. Others would ask, “Why don’t you want to go and drink with us?” or “Why don’t you want to wear the short shorts?” And I would say, “We don’t do that.” I’m glad for what we have. Also, my mom and I were happy that we were safe the whole time. We prayed a lot. My grandma prayed every day that we’d be OK. Prayer works.
How do you relate archery to the gospel? It takes a lot of hard work and sticking with it. You have to always believe you can do it, even if you think you can’t. You also need a lot of concentration. If you lose concentration, you miss the shot. A tiny jerk can throw it off. In the gospel, you need to be steadfast and sure.
Would you like to share a favorite scripture? 1 Nephi 3:7. You can go and do anything you’re supposed to. You can do whatever the Lord wants you to. If He wants you to do it, you can do it.