Gospel Story Finder

I’m not even a Mormon, and yet I look forward to and enjoy my monthly edition of the New Era. Your magazine helps me to see and reinforce values, standards, and morals that I never learned in my years of growing up as an orphan. My good friends the Wilsons, who live on a beautiful little ranch in John Day, Oregon, were kind enough to give me a subscription to the New Era and also show me the wealth of a strong family unit in a society where everyone is struggling for an identity. Before I met the Wilsons, I had a very stereotyped misconception of Mormon people. But the Wilsons showed me with their generosity, care, and sincerity what wonderful people Mormons are, and my monthly edition of the New Era only helps to enhance these impressions.
Yvonne Mary PepinJohn Day, Oregon

Ten-year-old Alexandra and her family are grateful that the missionaries were able to come to their country. Several years ago, the missionaries knocked on their door, and her grandmother invited them in. Because of that contact, Alexandra, her parents (Rosa and Arnaldo), and her brother (Victor), as well as her grandmother joined the Church. When Alexandra attended a Latter-day Saint meeting for the first time, she felt more comfortable there than she had at any other church. Later, when she was baptized, she knew that it was the right thing to do. Alexandra knew that she could gain exaltation and return someday to Heavenly Father and Jesus.

Actually, Hugo is working very hard right now to prepare for a mission. Bishop Sergio Lohrmann, of the Palermo Ward, says: “Hugo has a great knowledge of the gospel. He bears his testimony every month—and when he does, it strengthens the testimonies of the members of our ward as he tells of his love for Jesus Christ and for the gospel.”

The McReynolds saw quiet miracles take place in the mission. During one transfer, a missionary from South Africa who spoke Zulu, was sent to an area in the mission where a family of five from Africa would be taught the gospel. “It wasn’t that the family couldn’t speak English, but they saw it as a miracle—getting their very own Zulu-speaking missionary,” President McReynolds said.

Even with all of the articles you have printed about preparing rather than repairing, I am one who dated a nonmember against the counsel of Church leaders. I’ve been dating a wonderful young man for a year who is devoted to his own Christian church. Now that we’re graduating from high school, questions of “our” future are arising. What was so nice and fun a year ago is now very emotional and serious. I have realized in recent weeks that this relationship has to come to an end. It is terribly painful as I contemplate how hurt he is going to be and how I’ve made him a victim by allowing this relationship to progress. I write this for the benefit of those who are making important decisions in their lives. Remember who you choose to date is vitally important.
Name Withheld

For my February Cultural Refinement lesson in Relief Society, I used the Mormonad from the March issue. How great it would have been if it had been poster size.

Bay Roberts, Newfoundland—
A testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ is not something you should take for granted. You may think you have it one day, and before you know what’s happened it could be gone. At least that’s what happened to me. When I was younger, I knew that I had a Heavenly Father who loved me, and I loved him too. But as I got older, things began to change. I became a little less concerned with maintaining my testimony. I figured it wasn’t going anywhere, so why worry?
I started to focus less on spiritual things, and little by little doubts began to enter my mind. As time progressed, my concerns grew bigger and bigger until I wasn’t sure if the Book of Mormon was true. Soon I found it almost impossible to read it without finding something that I would disagree with or have trouble believing. The strong testimony I had as a little child was almost gone.
I continued to go to church all the time I was doubting, hoping that I could find something to give me the least bit of hope. It’s a good thing I did.
In Sunday School one day my teacher told us that in order to gain a testimony, you had to desire it. I sincerely wanted my testimony back, so I decided to try again, but with a different attitude. I started reading my scriptures again, but instead of looking for what was wrong with them, I looked for what was right. I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to help me believe in them and to know whether or not the gospel is true. Then, after the hardest and most lonely time in my life, something clicked and I knew it was true. I had my testimony back!
I now know that I must continue to work to keep my testimony growing and strong. I know that the Book of Mormon is true and that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me. It’s good to be back.

Every spring, the mother hen on the farm by Aaron’s house hatches new baby chicks. Aaron enjoys watching the mother hen take care of her chicks.
There are a lot of animals like snakes, foxes, and hawks near the farm that are dangerous to the baby chicks.
The mother hen watches for danger. When she sees an animal that could hurt her chicks, she clucks to warn her babies.
Some of the baby chicks quickly run under the wings of their mother for safety.
The mother hen keeps her chicks under her wings until the danger has passed.
Other chicks do not go to their mother quickly. Not listening to their mother’s calls for them is dangerous because the chicks cannot protect themselves from the animals.
In Primary, Aaron learned that Jesus said He is like a mother hen and we are like baby chicks. When we follow Jesus’s commandments, He will protect us like the mother hen protects her babies.
Watching the mother hen and chicks makes Aaron happy because it reminds him of how much Jesus loves us.

Orson Pratt, Parley’s brother, was the second youngest of the Apostles. Ordained at 23, he was only a few weeks older than Lyman Johnson. The service that Orson had already rendered to the Church provides an excellent example of how young adults can be a force for good.
Orson was baptized on September 19, 1830—his 19th birthday. Shortly after, Joseph Smith received a revelation for him that said that Orson was God’s son, that he was blessed because he believed, and that his responsibility was to preach the gospel (see D&C 34:3–6). Accordingly, Orson served numerous missions, including one with Lyman Johnson in 1832 in which they baptized nearly 100 individuals and ordained several elders.
When Orson was called as an Apostle, he was not in Kirtland. On April 23, 1835, in the city of Columbus, he learned that his presence was required at a meeting in Kirtland on April 26th.
Not knowing the purpose of the meeting, he immediately made his way there. Unaware that he had been called as an Apostle, he walked in while the congregation was “praying, and wishing for his arrival.”9 Feeling the support of the Saints, Orson accepted his call.
As an Apostle, he prepared a pamphlet that contained the earliest printed account of Joseph Smith’s First Vision. As a pioneer in 1847, he kept a detailed record of the trek west. He also wrote many missionary pamphlets and was a strong defender of the Book of Mormon.

Priesthood service is something Seth and Tyler enjoy. When Tyler became a deacon, he was happy to able to pass the sacrament by adding an attachment to his wheelchair so that people could take the trays from him. Seth says, “Priesthood service means a lot to me—preparing, blessing, and passing the sacrament to everyone, including taking it to people who can’t make it to church because they’re not able to get out of the house.”

Speaking of Brigham Young has reminded me of the Perpetual Education Fund which we have established. It was only a year ago that I first spoke of this in our general conference. The contributions of generous Latter-day Saints have come in to assure us that this endeavor is now on a solid foundation. We will need more yet, but already it has been demonstrated that vast good will come of this undertaking. Young men and women in the underprivileged areas of the world, young men and women who for the most part are returned missionaries, will be enabled to get good educations that will lift them out of the slough of poverty in which their forebears for generations have struggled. They will marry and go forward with skills that will qualify them to earn well and take their places in society where they can make a substantial contribution. They will likewise grow in the Church, filling positions of responsibility and rearing families who will continue in the faith.

I have time to read only one testimonial. It comes from a young man who has been blessed by this program.

He says: “It is so wonderful that I do not have to just dream anymore about my education or my future. The Lord has cleared the way, and I am doing it!
“I am currently attending a great technical institute in our country, where I am studying to become a computer technician. … By going to school, I am discovering my abilities. The discipline I developed on my mission helps me to succeed. … Never before has any young man felt more blessed than I do. The PEF has strengthened my faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Now, more than ever, I feel the responsibility the gospel places upon me to prepare myself to be a better member, a better leader, and a better father. …
“My dear mother, who has sacrificed so much, gets so emotional that she cries when she prays at night because of her gratitude to the Lord. …
“Now, I envision my town being blessed because of me. I envision the Church with leaders who have financial stability and who can support the Lord’s work with all their might, mind, and strength. I see the Church prospering. I am excited to start my own family and teach them that we can be self-sufficient. So I must finish my education. I will then repay the loan quickly to help my fellowmen. … I am grateful for the Savior’s mercy. He truly sustains us with His love.”

And so it goes, my brothers and sisters. As this great work moves across the earth, we are blessing now some 2,400 young people. Others will be blessed.

Keith slammed his books onto the kitchen table and sat down heavily with a sigh. His mother looked up from the letter she was writing. “Tell me about it, Keith.”
“Some boys dumped over Mrs. Peters’s trash can.”
“That’s terrible!”
“I didn’t do it. I was a block away when it happened. But by the time she came outside, the boys who did it had run away, and she yelled at me!”
“Did you tell her what happened?”
“She didn’t give me a chance. She said, ‘Aren’t you that Johnson boy? I certainly expected more of you!’ And then she slammed the door! She’s so mean—no wonder nobody likes her.”
“Jason likes her,” Mother reminded him. “I bet she really misses him now that he’s on his mission. He did so much for her.”
Keith looked sad. “I miss him too. I think about him all the time. Couldn’t he come back just for my baptism?”
“No, Keith. But do you know what helps me feel closer to him?”
“What?”
“Doing something that I know would make Jason happy, something that he might do if he were here. What do you think that he’d do for Mrs. Peters right now?”
Keith spoke quickly. “Clean up her trash.”
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
They found Mrs. Peters in her front yard. She was very happy when they offered their help.
“Thank you so much. I just can’t do as much as I used to since I broke my hip. And I didn’t really think Keith would have done it, since he’s a Johnson boy.”
Keith exchanged glances with Mother. “Mrs. Peters,” he said, “I could bring in your trash can when it’s empty and put it out again next Friday. In fact, I could do it for you every week.”
Mrs. Peters hesitated, “But, Jason—”
“I’m Keith.”
“I’m sorry—you remind me so much of your brother. Keith, I’m afraid I can’t afford to pay you.”
“That’s OK, Mrs. Peters. You can pay me the same way you paid Jason.”
Mrs. Peters was smiling now. “Don’t tell me that you like oatmeal cookies too!”
“Of course! I’m a Johnson boy!”

My father taught me courage.
When I wished to walk away
And leave a disliked task undone,
He gave me strength to stay.

My sister Heidi loves the sacrament. That always impresses me because she doesn’t like to eat bread or drink water. Heidi was born with a serious physical problem called cerebral palsy. She can’t hear or talk. She can’t sit up alone or walk. She can only use her hands very awkwardly.
Her mouth and stomach muscles are so tight that eating hurts, and she has hated it every since I can remember. She gets fed through a tube in her stomach while she sleeps at night.
We offer her food when we’re eating, but nine times out of ten she will shake her head no and tightly shut her mouth. Even on her birthdays, when we have her favorite—cheesecake—she usually refuses to eat it. Mom will help her hold a spoon and scoop up some of the cheesecake. Heidi smiles the whole time. But when Mom tries to get it to her mouth, Heidi frowns and pushes the spoon toward Mom’s mouth and feeds her the cheesecake instead.
But in Heidi’s twelve years of life, I have never once seen her frown or close her mouth to the sacrament. We’ve tried giving her little pieces of bread and sips of water at other times, but she’ll never take them.
It has taken me a while to figure out this mystery, but I think I finally have. Heidi likes the sacrament because it isn’t just food. Since she can’t talk, it’s hard for me to know how much she knows about Jesus Christ. I don’t know if she understands that He was born in a stable or that He died on the cross. I guess for Heidi that really doesn’t matter. What is important for her to know about Jesus Christ, Heidi understands. She knows she needs this bread and water in her life. I wish you could see her smile when she takes the sacrament.
I don’t take the sacrament for granted, thanks to my sister Heidi. I know I need it too.
Note: Shortly after this story was written, Heidi died from complications due to her cerebral palsy. The way she attempted to take the sacrament was a miracle to all around her, and we wanted to share it with you.

When I was eight, my two cousins and I were sent to a nearby town to get groceries. Looking back, I am amazed how much confidence my grandmother and my aunt and uncle had in us. The morning skies were bright and clear as we left on our three horses.
In the middle of the prairie, we decided to get off our horses and play marbles. We were so interested in our game that we did not look up to see the dark clouds covering the sky. By the time we realized that a storm was coming, we didn’t even have time to get on our horses. Heavy rain and hail hit us so hard that all we could do was unsaddle the horses and take cover under the saddle blankets. Then our horses ran away.
Horseless, wet, and cold, we started walking as fast as we could toward a nearby town. It was late when we found a home and knocked on the door. The family there dried us off, fed us delicious bean burritos, and then put us to bed in a room with a dirt floor.
My cousins and I woke up in the morning to a bright sun and beautiful sky. A man knocked on the door looking for three lost boys. I will never forget what we saw on our way home—a crowd of people who had been looking for us all night. In front of them all were my loving grandmother and my uncle and aunt. They hugged us and cried, happy they had found their lost children.

Ben stood with his friends after school in the hot sun as they waited for the bus home. He wished for the thousandth time that there was some shade at the bus stop!
“Hey, here comes Frankie,” one of his friends said. Frankie was part of their group.
“Dude, your shoes are so old they must’ve been made out of dinosaur skin!” Vince said once Frankie got closer.
Ben laughed at the joke as he glanced down at Frankie’s feet. Yup, his friend had on the same pair of tennis shoes he’d worn all school year. It was almost summer vacation. By now, the ratty shoes had holes in them and were falling apart.
They liked to give him a hard time about it, but Frankie always laughed it off.
Sure enough, Frankie was chuckling along with everybody else. But then Ben noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Frankie’s smile seemed different somehow. Like he was trying to cover up that he really was upset.
Something cold turned in Ben’s stomach.
His friends teased Frankie about the old shoes until the bus rolled up. This time, though, Ben didn’t laugh with them. He couldn’t help but feel like they’d hurt Frankie’s feelings.
As Ben plopped down onto the hot green vinyl seat of the school bus, he kept remembering the look on Frankie’s face from a few minutes earlier. Frankie walked to the back of the bus and chose a seat by himself.
Ben looked down at his lap. Had they gone too far? He knew Frankie’s family didn’t have a lot of money. In fact, now he wondered if those old scuffed shoes were his only pair besides church shoes.
Even though Ben had snagged a window seat on the bus, he couldn’t enjoy the ride home.
The next day Ben’s bad feeling grew worse. He thought about how he would feel if his friends made fun of what he wore. How often had they done that to Frankie?
And then he saw his friend at school. Ben’s eyes widened. Frankie was wearing new shoes! Not just new shoes, but cool new shoes. Ben felt another stab of guilt as he wondered if Frankie’s family could afford them.
At recess he grabbed a basketball and went over to shoot some hoops with Frankie. “So, where’d you buy those shoes?” Ben asked. “They’re awesome!”
Frankie shook his head and said quietly, “I didn’t. DJ bought them for me.”
Ben nearly dropped the basketball. DJ was one of the kids they hung out with at school. A kid who, now that Ben thought about it, never teased Frankie.
While the rest of them had made fun of Frankie, DJ did something nice instead.
I’m supposed to be Frankie’s friend, Ben thought. Why hadn’t I been nice too?
Ben cleared his throat and stopped bouncing the ball. “Hey. So, um, I’m really sorry about yesterday. You know. At the bus stop. That wasn’t nice of us.”
Frankie just shrugged. “It’s OK.”
“Hey, wanna play a game of one-on-one?” He passed the ball to Frankie. “You can start!”
Frankie’s face lit up in a smile, and Ben knew how he wanted to act from then on. He wanted to help make his friends happy every chance he could.

I had always just assumed that when you got into ninth grade, you went to seminary. So I was surprised when I received a call from the bishopric asking me if I wanted to enroll.
I thought, “Sure. Why not?”
The next thing I knew, it was the first day of ninth grade, and I was on my way to released-time seminary. I was pretty scared and not very excited. “Yeah,” I thought, “another church meeting to go to every day. What could my teacher possibly have to teach us every single day? And I was supposed to do this for four years? What if I didn’t know anyone in my class? What if I didn’t like my teacher? What if I just didn’t want to go?”
But I forced myself out the door of my high school and took that long trek to the seminary building. When I got there, I looked for my name to see which class I was in. I then waited for someone I knew so I wouldn’t have to be alone. Little did I know that in seminary you are never alone. I finally gave up waiting and went to class. As I walked into the classroom, I was greeted by a warm smile and a friendly handshake. That’s when things started to get better.
I took a seat, and as I looked around at all of the beautiful pictures on the walls, my friends started to come in. Friends! Now I could have fun.
Class finally started, and we all told a little about ourselves. Then the teacher, Brother Toma, introduced himself and told us about seminary—how important it was to come every day and how there would be gospel study, fun activities, and sometimes even treats!
I couldn’t believe how fast that class went by. It was so much fun; I didn’t want to leave. When the bell rang, I had to drag myself back to the school.
When I returned to school, I could instantly tell a difference. My school had never seemed so worldly before. I was amazed at how strong the Spirit had been in that seminary building, even on an orientation day.

Pélé, Brazil’s great team captain who also helped introduce professional soccer in New York, couldn’t afford a soccer ball as a child. Instead, he kicked around a pile of old socks tied together.

I was ecstatic when a man called me one day and said he’d seen my bodybuilding shows and wanted to sponsor me. He would pay for my clothes and protein and fly me to Europe to do shows there. He even said I could be in a magazine. Bodybuilding was my passion, and this was my dream! The only problem was that I’d sent in my mission papers a few days earlier. I told the man I would think about his offer and call him back.
I was faced with the hardest decision of my life. For my parents, accepting the sponsor wasn’t an option. They said, “Maybe you’ll have this opportunity after your mission.” But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I knew I should go on a mission and serve the Lord, but my dream was sitting right in front of me.
I asked a lot of my friends what they thought I should do. Some said I should take the sponsor, and others said it was Satan working against me because he didn’t want me to serve a mission.
One day, a great friend of mine shared with me a quote from President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994): “Men and women who turn their lives over to God will discover that He can make a lot more out of their lives than they can. He will deepen their joys, expand their vision, quicken their minds, strengthen their muscles, lift their spirits, multiply their blessings, increase their opportunities, comfort their souls, raise up friends, and pour out peace.”1
That quote hit me hard. So did a scripture I read in the Book of Mormon: “And if it so be that the children of men keep the commandments of God he doth nourish them, and strengthen them, and provide means whereby they can accomplish the thing which he has commanded them” (1 Nephi 17:3).
With the help of this quote and scripture and the support of my friends and family, I decided to serve a mission and was called to serve in the Bolivia Cochabamba Mission.
Serving a mission was the best choice I’ve ever made. I saw countless blessings while serving, including being blessed to learn Spanish quickly.

After recovering from serious health challenges, Elder Robert D. Hales shared the following in general conference: “On a few occasions, I told the Lord that I had surely learned the lessons to be taught and that it wouldn’t be necessary for me to endure any more suffering. Such entreaties seemed to be of no avail, for it was made clear to me that this purifying process of testing was to be endured in the Lord’s time and in the Lord’s own way. … I … learned that I would not be left alone to meet these trials and tribulations but that guardian angels would attend me. There were some that were near angels in the form of doctors, nurses, and most of all my sweet companion, Mary. And on occasion, when the Lord so desired, I was to be comforted with visitations of heavenly hosts that brought comfort and eternal reassurances in my time of need.”