Gospel Story Finder

Throughout his journey, Elder Walker has witnessed many faith-building experiences that have deepened his testimony of the gospel. One such experience with a humble family in Tonga profoundly strengthened his faith in the power of sacrifice and obedience to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.
Elder Walker was on assignment in Tonga when he met a couple whose lives exemplified faith and devotion. This couple was known for their unwavering obedience to the Lord, consistently prioritizing His work, even at the expense of their own health and personal needs.
As he got to know them, Elder Walker learned that the husband suffered from a heart condition that required surgery, an operation that would cost $24,000 and needed to be performed in Australia. The couple could not afford the procedure or the travel expenses, but thankfully, a family member in Australia offered financial help.
Soon after arriving in Australia for the surgery, however, the man felt a strong prompting to return home, even before the operation. Trusting this spiritual impression, he returned to Tonga, where he was soon called as the stake president. His sense of duty replaced any consideration for his own wellbeing, and he postponed addressing his health concerns to focus on serving the members of his stake.
Elder Walker counselled with the couple, urging them to prioritize the husband’s health so that the Lord could continue to bless him and use him to care for his family and his stake. Shortly after, the man was able to receive financial assistance and returned to Australia for health tests and medical advice.
Following some of these tests, Elder Walker received an intriguing message from a family member in Australia. The family member reported that during one scan, the technician noticed something unusual—something resembling a metal stent appeared exactly where the pain originated. When asked if the husband had undergone any surgery before, the family member assured the technician that he had not.
This unexpected finding was a sign of divine intervention, a miracle that allowed the husband to continue his service without needing the costly operation.
This experience left a lasting impression on Elder Walker, strengthening his testimony of the miracles that occur when we exercise faith and obey the promptings of the Holy Ghost. The humble couple’s willingness to sacrifice and trust in the Lord exemplifies the truth in 2 Nephi 27:23: “For behold, I am God; and I am a God of miracles; and I will show unto the world that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever; and I work not among the children of men save it be according to their faith.”

Annie’s father was a truck driver. He was a big, rugged man with broad shoulders that seemed to fill the doorway when he walked through it. He had wavy brown hair and twinkly blue eyes. When she was little, Annie thought he looked like a movie star. She still did. She also knew that he loved her with all his heart. So at his knock on her door, she happily called for him to come in.

“Guess what!” he exulted. “Remember that show you’ve been wanting to see? I have tickets for it tonight!”

Annie giggled as her father bowed deeply, adding, “Might I have the pleasure of your company tonight, mademoiselle?” He straightened up. “What do you think? Afterward we might even stop for greasy hamburgers at that place where the waitresses wear roller skates.”

“I’d love to, but”—she paused—“Rhonda’s having this big spur-of-the-moment slumber party tonight, and Mom just said I could go. It’ll be such fun—you understand, don’t you, Dad?”

“Sure, Annie,” he said with a rueful smile. “I understand. You go and have fun. We’ll make it another time.”

No matter how hard she tried not to, Annie couldn’t help feeling a little bit guilty. Her father seemed disappointed, even though he’d said he understood. She’d make it up to him somehow. She looked around her room at the clutter. I know! she thought. For starters, I’ll clean up this mess without even being asked.

She bustled around the room, dusting and putting things away. She saved her collection of stuffed animals for last. It had been a long time since she’d played with them. She picked up Rosie, her teddy bear, and twirled around with it in a make-believe waltz. Smiling to herself, she sank onto her bed. Rosie brought back a lot of memories . …

A sharp knock on the bedroom door shook her from her reverie. “Annie, are you in there?”

“Come in, Mom.” She grinned at her mother’s happy reaction to her tidy room. “I just felt like cleaning.” She held up her beloved teddy bear. “Mom, do you remember a long time ago when I lost Rosie, and Daddy came home from work with her in his pocket?”

Mom nodded.

“How did he end up with her? I mean, I know now, of course, that she didn’t really get up off the shelf and go jump into his pocket.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Mom said as she sat down on the bed beside Annie. “I felt terrible when I realized just how upset you were about losing Rosie that day. I called your father at work and told him the whole story. Do you know,” she said, laughing softly, “that he went to five different stores that night before he finally found that bear! He loves you, Annie. He’d do just about anything to make you happy.”

Annie was quiet for a minute as the significance of her mother’s words began to sink in. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she jumped up off the bed and raced down the stairs.

Her father was in his favorite chair, reading the paper.

“There you are,” Annie said, a little out of breath.

“And here I’ve been,” he said with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Well, is your invitation for tonight still good?”

“Sure,” he said with a glance at his watch, “if we hurry. But what about the slumber party?”

“I just decided that I’d rather spend the evening with you than with my friends.”

The joy on her father’s face made her happier than going to the slumber party ever could.

The poet Robert Frost, in the poem “The Road Not Taken,” gives us a vivid, visual image of standing at the crossroads of life, having to make a decision:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both …
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

A girl and I did not get along. We fought and gossiped about each other. I did not have a good feeling inside, so I told her I was sorry and forgave her. She did the same for me, and now we are friends.Aubrey Hatch, age 9

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Mandy: You come to me with a sword and a spear and a shield.
Matt: But I’m going to knock your big ugly head off, Goliath!
Mandy: Oh no! That’s Mrs. Zeigler’s window!
Matt: Let’s get out of here!
Matt: No, that’s wrong. I’ve got to go tell her what I’ve done.
Mandy: We’ll both go. I was playing the game too.
Matt: Mrs. Zeigler, we were playing David and Goliath, and I broke your window.
Mandy: We both did.
Mrs. Zeigler: I know you did. And you were afraid of me. Your fear was as big as Goliath. But you stood up to that fear and told me the truth.
Mandy: We’ll pay for your window.
Mrs. Zeigler: Of course you will. I would expect no less from giant-slayers.

In preparation for my first trip to the temple, my mother and experienced Relief Society sisters helped me select the items I would need, including beautiful ceremonial clothing. But the most important preparation came even before knowing what to wear. After interviewing me to determine if I was worthy, my bishop explained the covenants I would make. His careful explanation gave me the chance to think about and be prepared to make those covenants.
When the day came, I participated with a feeling of gratitude and peace. Even though I did not understand the full significance of the covenants I made, I did know that I was bound to God through those covenants and was promised blessings I could scarcely comprehend if I kept them. Since that first experience, I have been continually assured that keeping the covenants we make with God allows us to draw upon the Savior’s power, which strengthens us in our inevitable trials, provides protection from the adversary’s influence, and prepares us for eternal glory.

The next day at the dedication, I could not sing the first verse of “The Spirit of God” for tears of joy. I knew then and there that President Hinckley is a prophet appointed by our Heavenly Father to help and guide us. I will be better able to share the gospel with my friends because I know with all my heart that this is the true gospel of Jesus Christ.Tasha H., age 12, Texas

Remember that Christ’s life was one of service to others. This Christmas season would be an ideal time to serve others in ways that shows our love for others as He showed His love for us. Imagine the excitement generated and the lessons learned as a child becomes a secret Santa to friends and neighbors. I can still hear the squeals of delight as my young children showed acts of secret service by placing cookies, fruit, or homemade cards at the door of someone in need of love.

We have family living in Tonga and were sad when a cyclone hit there. We decided to send water purifiers so that they could have clean drinking water. We worked to earn money to send three boxes of purifiers. Our family in Tonga had enough to share with their community.
Christopher and Kalea L., both age 8, Saskatchewan, Canada

Three of her four children joined the Church with her, and all of them are still active Latter-day Saints. “When I was first being taught, the children would laugh behind the door. After I received my own testimony of the gospel, I got them to promise that they would listen to one discussion. I told the missionaries that they had better be good, because the children had promised to listen just this once. The elders prepared a very fine flannel-board presentation, after which the children promised that they would also join the Church. It is true, though, that the youngest son, Eikki, later said the reason he joined the Church was that his mother told him to,” Sister Rinne says, laughing.

It was about that time Bob began talking again about going on his mission. We hadn’t mentioned it much, but then one day he said, “Well, I guess when we get home I’ll start getting ready for my mission.” From then on, he talked about a mission more and more. One night, about 1:00 A.M., after a long, hard day, he rolled over in his sleeping bag and said, “Dad, tell me about eternal life.” We talked for about two hours. Then, with his last effort, he said, “That’s for me,” and fell asleep. For me that made the whole trip worthwhile.
We slowly made up time, and by the end of the trip, arrived in the small eskimo village at the mouth of the river right on schedule. We had one half of a meal left. Our canoe was so badly damaged we had to abandon it (after notifying Canadian officials). We had run every set of rapids on the river but one (whether we were tired or afraid of the one we portaged around I’m not sure), so we didn’t claim any records. But Bob had been lost and now was found. The day after we returned home, he went to see the bishop and expressed his desire to serve the Lord. He is now serving in the Illinois Chicago Mission.

JOHN R. WINDER (Born 1820, Biddenden, England; died 1910, Salt Lake City; second counselor in Presiding Bishopric; first counselor in First Presidency.) When 28, eavesdropped on a sermon by Elder Orson Spencer in Liverpool and was converted; wife joined also. Caught smallpox on ship to America; overheard sailors say his body would be next one cast into sea. Recovered, crossed plains. Prominent in civic, military offices. Supervised completion of Salt Lake Temple.

I might have continued to enjoy Relief Society without being aware of the many ways it has helped me, had it not been for a dreary spring morning and a perceptive comment from my small daughter.
While washing my dishes in a hurry that morning I looked out the kitchen window at dark clouds and blowing snow. Ordinarily, the weather would have made me feel gloomy, but the words of a favorite hymn, “The Wintry Day, Descending to Its Close,” kept going through my mind and I began humming.
From the breakfast table my little daughter called, “I bet it is Relief Society day!”
“How did you know?” I inquired. “Did you see me reading my lesson book?”
“No, mama,” she giggled. “You were singing!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “What has my singing got to do with its being Relief Society day?”
Watching for my reaction she answered slowly, “Every other morning you’re grouchy!”
I admit morning is not my favorite time of day, but I hope she was exaggerating my reaction to it. However, in her own way she had perceived that going to Relief Society made me happy. And I started thinking then about why I was so enthusiastic about Relief Society.

I was sixteen when my six-year-old sister, Marcia, contracted polio during the epidemic of the early 1950s. Our family was devastated—she had an acute case, and it was feared that she would be severely paralyzed. When people came down with polio, they had a very high temperature. Until the temperature went down, the degree of paralysis increased. Doctors, family members, and the patient watched and waited by the hour for that temperature to drop.
When she became ill, Marcia was sent from Preston to Pocatello, Idaho, a larger city with better medical facilities. The rest of us decided to have a family fast, and we started it immediately. I was a junior in high school. That particular day, my school was playing a very important football game. I thought fasting might make me too weak to play well, but I chose to fast anyway. I played the best game I had ever played.
Marcia’s temperature went down that day, and the paralysis stopped progressing. She spent a lot of time at a rehabilitation center in Boise, Idaho, and was away from the family for several months. She received many priesthood administrations for her health, and a lot of prayers were offered in her behalf throughout her ordeal. She recovered from the polio and the paralysis. Medical authorities said that she would never have children, but she has three children and has lived a very normal life. We know that she has been blessed by the Lord.

1. I’m much too young to go abroad
To teach and preach the word of God,
But I can show I know it’s true,
Quite simply, by the things I do.
2. The people in my neighborhood
Will judge the gospel bad or good
By how I act at work and play,
And not just on the Sabbath day.
3. I’ll take my friends to church with me,
Where I will act with dignity.
My rev’rence and my happy face
Will tell them it’s a sacred place.
4. In ev’rything I do they’ll see
I am what I profess to be.
Then when the elders find their door,
They’ll say, “Come in and tell us more.”

Joseph Smith was born on December 23. Have you ever wondered what his life was like when he was very young? Some children went to the place where Joseph Smith’s home was in Vermont to find out.
They got to see stone fences that Joseph’s father and uncles built. These fences kept the cows on their land. In the meadow are some apple trees, like the ones the Smiths would have grown to make apple cider, applesauce, and pie.
The children helped archaeologists dig for clues! They uncovered what was left of the Smiths’ small log home. They sifted through the dirt and found plates, bowls, and even a fork!

“Stop right here!” barked the full-time missionary sitting next to me.
“What is it, Elder?” I replied.
“Somebody who lives there needs our help,” answered the short, stocky missionary sitting in the passenger seat.
I looked over at the dark, uninviting house he was talking about, and it was hard not to ridicule the young missionary for thinking something good could come from knocking on that door. But, because he had a sacred calling as a missionary in the Lord’s Church and I was only a 17-year-old convert, I obeyed his request and rolled my car to a stop.
It was a warm spring night in southern California. The only sound I heard as we walked up to the house was the symphony the crickets were performing. Though their music was pleasant, I still had an eerie feeling while knocking on the old door in front of us.
“Elder, I don’t think anybody’s home. We can try some other time.”
“Just wait,” the missionary pleaded.
Just as I was about to drag my temporary companion away from the dark doorstep, the door creaked open. In front of us stood a short, skinny man in his mid-30s. He wore a pair of tattered jeans and an off-white T-shirt decorated with small holes and grease stains.
“Who are you?” the man softly inquired.
“I am Elder Johnson, and this is my friend Gabe. We are here on behalf of the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Tears began to roll down the man’s face, and he started to sob uncontrollably. We stood in front of him, absolutely amazed at the scene that was unfolding before our eyes. Behind the tears he was shedding, the man’s eyes lit up with hope.
“Are you the angels I asked for?” the man questioned.
It turns out that Sam, the man we were speaking with, had been planning to end his life that night. In a final prayer to God, he pleaded that he would receive forgiveness for what he was about to do. Finally, his last hopeful request was for the Lord to send him an angel in this time of great need.
A fire burned in my chest as I realized the Lord was using this missionary and me as instruments in His hands. I felt so foolish for doubting the elder’s impression to stop.
This experience helped me realize I had something important to do with my life.
I didn’t know how many other people like Sam were across the world, but I imagined it was no small number. If I abandoned the opportunity to serve the Lord as a full-time missionary, would I miss other opportunities to make the Lord’s house calls in emergencies such as this? I dreaded the thought of leaving anybody stranded without the gospel. That’s one reason I decided to serve in the Lord’s royal army of missionaries.

For a long time, I had not been interested in family history. Why did I need to learn about people who lived so long ago? Yes, they endured a lot, but they did not go through the same challenges that today’s world presents. How could I learn from people whom I simply could not relate to since they lived in an entirely different world?
Then my dad gave a family home evening lesson about one of our ancestors. I expected to be bored, but it was one of the most interesting and informative family nights that we’d had for a long time.

“Did I tell you enough times how much I love you, my son?” I silently wondered. As my husband and I sat in the intensive-care unit at the hospital, we prayed for the life of our eldest child, Joel. I held his thin, cold hand in mine, listening to machines keeping him alive and weeping at the thought that perhaps I hadn’t done enough to let him know of my love. Most of all, I wanted to tell him once more, “I love you.”
I don’t know how many times I have expressed my love for Joel since his life was spared. Our family members now show love for one another more often and more easily—both in word and in deed. We try not to miss a chance to express our affection.
Joel’s brush with death reminded us that life is short and that we can’t let any opportunity pass to show our children how much we love them—especially given the great joy and security children experience in knowing they are loved.

My family prays to Heavenly Father to help us prepare for conference and be taught by the Spirit. We dress in our Sunday best. We watch conference together and sing along to all the songs.
Harriet O., age 9, Lagos State, Nigeria