Gospel Story Finder

Latter-day Saint missionaries first came to Guatemala in 1947, after John F. O’Donnal, a North American living there, visited Church headquarters in Salt Lake City and reported that there were people in the country ready to hear the gospel. His wife, Carmen, was the first Guatemalan baptized. Brother O’Donnal later served as a mission president and temple president in Guatemala.

During a visiting teaching visit, Martha, a member of our ward, told my wife and her companion never to come back again. She had decided to stop coming to church. One of the visiting teachers asked Martha if they could sing a hymn together this one last time, and she agreed. As they sang, something special happened. Little by little, the Spirit began to fill the room. Each of them felt it. Martha’s heart began to soften. With her eyes filled with tears, she expressed to her visiting teachers the feelings of her heart. At that moment, she realized that she knew that the gospel was true. She now thanked her visiting teachers and expressed a desire for them to return. From that day forward, she received them with joy.

Martha began to attend church with her young daughter. For years they attended regularly, with Martha never losing hope that her husband might eventually choose to join them. At last the day came when the Lord touched his heart, and he began to attend with them, as did their other daughter soon thereafter. This family began to feel the true joy that comes from having gospel blessings in their home. Martha has since served faithfully as our ward Relief Society president, and her husband has served well in several callings within the stake. All this began with the singing of a hymn, a small and simple thing that touched Martha’s heart.

A young mother knelt beside her three-year-old and listened to his heartfelt bedtime prayer. As he gave thanks for his big brother, for snow, for clouds, and for pizza, she tried to remember the last time she had thanked the Lord for such things. She realized that, although she always thanked our Heavenly Father for health, family, and the gospel, she had forgotten to remember the plain, the ordinary, the simple blessings of her own life. When she began expressing daily gratitude for all these blessings, she saw the world with new eyes. She found that grief and hardship became easier to bear and that she was spiritually nourished (see Lisa Ray Turner, Ensign, July 1992, pages 51–52).

In Denmark, on May 22, 2004, the simple words of a powerful solo, “Come light, come truth,” opened the production A Bridge of Faith for 4,000 people on the eve of the dedication of the Copenhagen Denmark Temple. Latter-day Saints from Denmark, Sweden, and Iceland, dressed in medieval costumes, sang original music as if it were a plea from those who lived in the Middle Ages. Their performance dramatized how the restored gospel and the building of a temple became the “bridge of faith” that led them to light and truth.

José sat straight and solemn in his seat as he looked around at his classmates. He was lonely and homesick for the beloved land of his heart—South America. It seemed to him he could almost smell the fragrant air and see the colors of the dazzling tropical flowers around the Jesuit mission (now part of Argentina) where he had been born. He longed again for the sunny days of play with his brothers and sister and their Guarani Indian friends in the rich fruit orchards that bordered the banks of the great Uruguay River.
He remembered the friendliness of the boys in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where he had gone to school briefly. But now his father had been transferred to Madrid, Spain, and he had been enrolled in a school attended by boys from rich and influential families. Every day he felt more an outsider, more the disliked Creole son of a poor family.
None of his classmates, nor José himself, could have known that this shy, silent boy from South America would one day become one of its greatest leaders! Even though he was only seven years old, José vowed that someday he would return to the land of his birth. Twenty-six years later he did. Between that promise he made to himself and its fulfillment, José prepared well for all he had to do.

Mom put a comforting hand on Raina’s back. “Do you know how many stories I send to different magazines?” she asked. “And how many are rejected? But I can’t give up if I want to see my work published. Writing is important to me, so I keep trying.”

But in spite of the harsh treatment baptisms continued. A number of converts to the Church went to America to be with the Saints there. It was not until 1974 that the Church of Jesus Christ was recognized as a Christian religion by the Danish government.

Scandinavia’s first stake was organized in Copenhagen in June, 1974. In August of the same year a Scandinavian area general conference was held in Stockholm, Sweden, where 4,500 Saints—many of them Danes—met to hear the prophet of the Lord speak. It was a highlight of the Church’s 125 years in the area.

It was wonderful to hear the conference messages, particularly that of the living prophet, President Monson, despite the fact that I am halfway across the world in a land where the gospel still cannot be preached. But through technology I was still able to participate and feel of the Spirit and be edified. Hearing the counsels given and the testimonies borne, however, made me wish even more that all our brothers and sisters could partake of the bounteous blessings of the gospel. I pray this happens soon.
Janryll F.

Buried in the sock drawer of my dresser is a baseball. Sometimes while looking for an elusive missing sock, I’ll pull that baseball out, roll it around in my hand, and examine it. At first glance, it’s a normal, slightly used baseball, but it’s actually much more.
In the 1960s my family was living in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. We lived in a diverse neighborhood. My friends were all of different ethnic and religious backgrounds, which led to some pretty deep discussions even as grade schoolers. But the one thing we all agreed on was baseball and the Pittsburgh Pirates.
In 1960, the Pirates won the World Series, beating the Yankees in a close series. One pitcher for the Pirates was Vernon Law. The media had dubbed him “The Deacon,” because he was Mormon. He went to the same meetinghouse as I did, and I was friends with his kids. After the Pirates won the World Series, “The Deacon” brought a bunch of signed baseballs to hand out at church. The balls had been signed by most of the team including Roberto Clemente, Smoky Burgess, Bob Skinner, Bill Mazeroski, Dick Groat, and, of course, Vernon Law. I was lucky enough to get one of the balls. On the ride home from church, I couldn’t wait to show my friends. That ball became my pride and joy. I placed it on the dresser in my bedroom, where I could admire it every day.
Summer meant playing baseball. Games would go on for hours with no limit on innings. Sometimes the scores would run into the hundreds! We would play in empty lots, someone’s backyard, or in the street. One thing that always seemed to present a challenge for us was actually finding a ball to play with. Pittsburgh is very hilly and wooded. A wild throw or foul tip could land deep in the trees, never to be found. We lost lots of balls.
On one muggy afternoon, we were trying to get a game up, and as usual we couldn’t find a ball anywhere. One of my friends suggested that we use my prized, signed ball. I resisted but eventually gave in to the pressure and ran home to get my 1960 Pirates World Series ball.
After the game, I took the ball home, examining it carefully. It had a few scrapes and grass stains on it, but I thought it wasn’t too bad. Still, I felt sick to my stomach. I put it back on the dresser where it sat until the next time we needed a ball. This time it was a little easier to use it. It already had a few scrapes on it; a few more wouldn’t do a lot of harm.
Each time it became easier and easier to justify using the ball. After a while, the names were totally covered in grass stains. It was pretty scuffed up. I tried to clean it with some soap and water, but that made it worse. I didn’t want to see the ball anymore, so I put it in a drawer, out of sight. I was embarrassed and ashamed of what I’d done and didn’t want to be reminded every day. I’d taken one of my prized possessions and ruined it for a stupid game. I’ve kept that ball all these years, still in my dresser drawer.
As I roll it around in my hand, I can still visualize the names written on the clean, white leather. The names are almost invisible now, covered with stains, or rubbed off by use. I suppose I keep the ball as a reminder of the foolishness of youth or the consequences of bad choices. The lessons are there to be learned. How easily we sacrifice our most valuable possession for fleeting enjoyment. How easily we give in to peer pressure. My baseball can never be restored to its original condition. But if we sin, the Lord Jesus Christ, through His Atonement, gives us the opportunity to repent and have Him clean the grass stains and scuff marks off our souls and restore them to a spotless condition.

My great-great-aunt Laura Clark Phelps was the first member of the Clark family who joined the Church. She was a woman who uniquely demonstrated a faith in the Lord that stands fast, nothing wavering.
Laura’s legacy teaches much about the doctrine of faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” She received her patriarchal blessing from Joseph Smith Sr. In it she was counseled to be faithful and she would have an inheritance in Zion. She was further told to “call upon God in faith, and if thou wilt thou shall have all of the desires of thine heart.”
Laura and her husband knew the Prophet Joseph Smith. On one occasion, the Prophet and his brother Hyrum came running to their farm outside Far West, Missouri, where Laura hid them behind the clothes curtain. She calmly faced the mob leaders who rushed in shortly afterwards in search of the Prophet.
Laura experienced the joys and privations of the early Church members in this dispensation. Her faith deepened as she was driven from her homes and separated from her husband on various occasions. As an efficient midwife, she worked and traveled day and night in all kinds of weather to help provide for her family. This overexertion and exposure took their toll. She died at the young age of 34, leaving behind her husband and five children. She did not live to see her children, her grandchildren, or her great-grandchildren following her in faith. She did not experience the blessings of receiving her own temple endowment in this earth life, blessings I believe she would have cherished.
Laura’s faithful life bears witness of this verse from Hebrews: “These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.” Faith lived in Laura, and Laura lived her faith.

It happens almost every Sunday evening. Nine-year-old Xinia (ZEE-nyah) Muñoz gets out a pencil and several sheets of lined paper and starts writing letters.
She sits at the kitchen table, absorbed with her writing. Sometimes she’ll look up to ask someone how to spell a word, but during most of her letter-writing time, she is “in her own world”—or in the world of the person who is lucky enough to get her letter.
To whom is she writing? “The missionaries,” she answers with a smile. The letter she is working on in the picture here is for Elder Ed McCoy, a close friend of the family, who is serving a mission in California. He is the only member of his family who belongs to the Church, and Xinia makes sure that he gets at least one letter every week—hers!
“He used to come here for Sunday dinner,” she says. After he left for his mission, Sunday evening just didn’t seem complete without a visit with Elder McCoy—even if only through a letter.
Before long, Xinia started writing letters to the other missionaries from Belize City too. Now she writes a letter nearly every Sunday evening to all six of them. Sometimes she writes to missionaries who served in Belize and have returned to their homes. Every Monday morning, her mother mails a stack of her letters to places such as Honduras, England, Canada, and the United States.

Abbotsford First Ward
When Max B. got cancer, he couldn’t go to Primary, so his friends in the Abbotsford First Ward, Abbotsford British Columbia Stake, made him a quilt to let him know they support him and are praying for him. The squares in the quilt are made out of blue jeans, and each one has the name of one of the Primary children.

Through serving in callings, my brothers and I have grown spiritually. Each brother who has joined the Church has been sealed in the temple and is now raising a happy family. Mother was sealed in the Laie Hawaii Temple to our father and sister and those of us who have been converted. She was able to realize the fulness of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ as she received the blessings of the temple. She later visited relatives, diligently seeking for information that would help her with her family history work. My mother has served in the Relief Society and Young Women programs and as a seminary teacher.

From someplace I got the courage to make the start. I guess Shakespeare comes fairly close to the top of most people’s lists of great authors. So I got out Shakespeare’s 37 plays, his sonnets, and his poems and went to work. Reading them was pretty difficult at first. I read very slowly and perhaps not very comprehendingly. Shakespeare wrote a long time ago, and there were many things that I did not understand. I had to reread some things several times, look up their meanings, and ask people about them. But finally the clouds began to part, a little bit of the sunlight began to come through, and I had a tremendous experience with Shakespeare. Shakespeare looked with clearer insight into human life than do most men. He said his purpose in writing was to hold the mirror up to life, to show virtue her own image and scorn her own likeness. He said, “I your looking-glass will be and will modestly discover to yourself qualities which you yourself know not of.” I had a great uplift as I read his speeches and his arguments for success. And as he pictured life in miniature with his great characters acting and reacting upon each other, I was intellectually born again—a great many times. Each time we discover some inspiring thought, we can be changed, and changed for the better.

When he was 15, he got a radio operator’s license and soon had a job at a local station. He later broadcast basketball games on the radio.

When one young woman read this statement, she decided she didn’t want to walk even close to the line of immodesty. Immediately she removed anything in her wardrobe that wasn’t consistent with being a representative of the Savior. She said, “I would be smart if I didn’t even try on anything in stores that I knew I shouldn’t wear. Why be tempted?” The principle of representation helped her make that firm resolve.

As with Paul, many scorned Joseph Smith and scoffed at his teachings when he declared that he had received revelations from the Lord. Others loved him and felt as Willard Richards did when he said: “Brother Joseph you did not ask me to cross the river with you—you did not ask me to come to Carthage—you did not ask me to come to jail with you—and do you think I would forsake you now? But I will tell you what I will do; if you are condemned to be hung for treason, I will be hung in your stead, and you shall go free” (History of the Church, 6:616).

A week later, Jesus Christ visited Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery in the temple. Jesus said that He accepted the temple as His house.

I cannot promise what success will come, since every person is free to choose how he or she responds to a servant of God. But the deacon you speak to for the Lord will remember you came to him. I know of one boy, now a man still far away from Church activity, whom a deacon was sent to find, and he told his grandfather of that visit 20 years earlier. And it seemed to have no effect, and yet he even named the deacon who came. The grandfather asked me to find and thank the deacon who was called to invite, to exhort, and to teach. It had been only one day in the life of a boy, but a grandfather and the Lord remember the words the boy was inspired to speak and the boy’s name.

The sorrow Joseph felt at the deaths of these two beloved brothers was perhaps surpassed by another event involving another brother. After a seemingly trivial disagreement, Joseph’s brother William turned against him and became disaffected from the Church. Along with other apostates, he began publicly declaring Joseph a “fallen prophet.” The worst damage, however, was done within the family circle. Joseph describes William’s angry departure from the Church:
“He went home and spread the leaven of iniquity among my brothers, and especially prejudiced the mind of brother Samuel. I soon learned that he was in the street exclaiming against me, and no doubt our enemies rejoiced at it” (History of the Church, 2:297).
Despite the wound inflicted by a rebellious-yet-beloved brother, Joseph felt no vengeance, no hate, no bitterness—only patience and forgiveness. His actions toward William are a profound example of the Lord’s wise counsel to show “forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy; that he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death” (D&C 121:43–44).
Daniel Tyler, who attended a meeting with Joseph Smith shortly after William’s apostasy and bitter denunciations of his brother, the Prophet, left us this touching account of Joseph’s anguish over his wayward brother: “I perceived sadness in his countenance and tears trickling down his cheeks. A few moments later a hymn was sung and he opened the meeting by prayer. Instead of facing the audience, however, he turned his back and bowed upon his knees, facing the wall. This I suppose, was done to hide his sorrow and tears.
“That prayer, which was to a considerable extent in behalf of those who accused him of having gone astray and fallen into sin, that the Lord would forgive them and open their eyes that they might see aright—that prayer … partook of the learning and eloquence of heaven” (Juvenile Instructor, 15 February 1892, page 127).
It was a measure of the greatness of the Prophet that he regarded the spiritual unity of the family so highly; thus, forgiveness and love prevailed. He patiently and lovingly helped his brother William again into the fellowship of the family and the Church, despite the damage he had done to Joseph and the Church.