Gospel Story Finder

Eight years after his baptism, Luciano was called as president of the Lingayen stake. Like most Philippine Church leaders, President de Guzmán has no car, no phone, and limited money for public transportation. He does have a bicycle. And at age fifty-nine, he rides it to his meetings and assignments—up to three hours round-trip. He carries a sack lunch with him because, he says, “I don’t want to impose on members for lunch.”

Pedaling on congested Philippine highways can be dangerous. But, says President de Guzmán, “As I am working in the Lord’s service, he protects me.” One time, a bus was overtaking a jeepney, and the president—on his bicycle—was caught in the middle. “Everyone thought I was going to be killed,” he says. “But then, it was as if a great wind lifted me up and swept me out of the way of the bus. The bicycle was not destroyed, and I was not hurt. The people were surprised when they saw me alive. I was surprised, too!”

Such a family was Oskar and Albertina Andersson, who became members of the Church in 1915. After World War II, Oskar, Albertina, and seven of their children who had married members made the heart-rending decision to sell all they owned and “travel to Zion.” From 1949 to 1950, 29 members of the Andersson family left Sweden. Oskar and Albertina left their home, three children, and four grandchildren, whom they would never see again. They arrived in a desert and a city where the people spoke a language they did not understand. But for these faithful members, being close to the temple was more important than anything else.
Members of the Andersson family have since served as missionaries and Church leaders in all parts of the world, including as an Area President in Africa and a temple president in Sweden.

The incident at the pond was just one of many times that Elder Wirthlin and his father learned from each other. He related the following incident too.
“Once, when I was about seven, Father gave me five dollars to buy some items at the hardware store about a mile away. When I came back, we accounted for the money and found that they had given me a dollar too much in change. Father said, ‘Whenever you purchase anything, make sure that you get the correct change back, and be especially careful that they do not give you too much change.’ He insisted that I immediately walk back and return the dollar, which I did. This was a great lesson in honesty and in promptness in correcting an error.

During his early youth, however, ill health and ill fortune seemed to pursue the family. The good father tried farming in several localities but couldn’t quite succeed in any of them. When young Joseph was seven years old, he and his brothers and sisters were stricken with typhus fever. The others recovered readily, but Joseph was left with a painful sore on his leg, a sore which would not heal. The doctors, doing the best they could under the conditions of the time, treated him—and yet the sore persisted. Finally the doctors were afraid they were going to have to amputate his leg.
We can imagine the grief and the sorrow that would come to parents who were told that the leg of their young son must be removed. Thankfully, however, one day the doctors came unexpectedly to the home, and they told the family that they were going to try a new operation to remove a piece of the bone, hoping that this would permit the sore to heal. They had brought with them some cord and planned to tie Joseph to the bed because they had no anesthetic, nothing to dull the pain, when they cut into his leg to remove the piece of bone.
Young Joseph, however, responded, “I will not be bound, for I can bear the operation much better if I have my liberty.”
The doctors then said, “Will you take some wine? … You must take something, or you can never endure the severe operation.”
Again the boy prophet said, “No, … but I will tell you what I will do—I will have my father sit on the bed and hold me in his arms, and then I will do whatever is necessary in order to have the bone taken out.”
So Joseph Smith, Sr., held the boy in his arms, and the doctors opened the leg and removed the diseased piece of bone. Although he was lame for some time afterward, Joseph was healed.4 At seven years of age, the Prophet Joseph Smith taught us courage—by example.

“My mother opened a little country store to help keep our family financially afloat. I worked with her in the store quite a bit. She taught me about respecting and serving people. Once, when I was fourteen, my mom and dad went to Salt Lake City for a conference and left me to mind the store. The Hutterites in our area wouldn’t go to the bank to cash their huge grain checks, so Mom was a bonded payor, and we would sometimes have thousands of dollars in the store safe. I knew the combination to the safe, and I knew that my parents trusted me, so I opened and closed the store on time and took care of customers.”

During World War II, in the early part of 1944, an experience involving the priesthood took place as United States marines were taking Kwajalein Atoll, part of the Marshall Islands and located in the Pacific Ocean about midway between Australia and Hawaii. What took place in this regard was related by a correspondent—not a member of the Church—who worked for a newspaper in Hawaii. In the 1944 newspaper article he wrote following the experience, he explained that he and other correspondents were in the second wave behind the marines at Kwajalein Atoll. As they advanced, they noticed a young marine floating facedown in the water, obviously badly wounded. The shallow water around him was red with his blood. And then they noticed another marine moving toward his wounded comrade. The second marine was also wounded, with his left arm hanging helplessly by his side. He lifted up the head of the one who was floating in the water in order to keep him from drowning. In a panicky voice he called for help. The correspondents looked again at the boy he was supporting and called back, “Son, there is nothing we can do for this boy.”

“Then,” wrote the correspondent, “I saw something that I had never seen before.” This boy, badly wounded himself, made his way to the shore with the seemingly lifeless body of his fellow marine. He “put the head of his companion on his knee. … What a picture that was—these two mortally wounded boys—both … clean, wonderful-looking young men, even in their distressing situation. And the one boy bowed his head over the other and said, ‘I command you, in the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the priesthood, to remain alive until I can get medical help.’” The correspondent concluded his article: “The three of us [the two marines and I] are here in the hospital. The doctors don’t know [how they made it alive], but I know.”

Thomas Kane returned to live in Pennsylvania, but he visited his Latter-day Saint friends often and remained interested in their welfare. After he died in 1883, his wife wrote a letter to the Saints telling them that Thomas asked her in his last hours before death to send “The sweetest message you can make up to my Mormon friends—to all, my dear Mormon friends.”

Spectators at Punahou High School football games may think they are seeing double. But the two players who make such a fine contribution to the team really do look alike. They are twins, the Harrington brothers. Alema and Tau have a good example to follow in their father, Al. Now a well-known Hawaiian entertainer, Al was an all-star football player in his youth. Although he never encouraged his sons to play football, when they made their decision, he was supportive.
Both boys attend early-morning seminary and maintain good grades. They say their parents are just as pleased by the A’s and B’s on the report cards as when they score a touchdown.

Shortly after my mission, while a student at Brigham Young University, I received a phone call from my dad. He told me that he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and that although his chances of survival were not good, he was determined to be healed and return to his normal life activities. That phone call was a sobering moment for me. My dad had been my bishop, my friend, and my adviser. As my mother, my siblings, and I contemplated the future, it appeared bleak. My younger brother, Dave, was serving a mission in New York and participated long-distance in these difficult family events.
The medical providers of the day suggested surgery to try and curtail the spread of the cancer. Our family earnestly fasted and prayed for a miracle. I felt that we had sufficient faith that my father could be healed. Just prior to the surgery, my older brother, Norm, and I gave my dad a blessing. With all the faith we could muster, we prayed that he would be healed.
The surgery was scheduled to last many hours, but after just a short time, the doctor came to the waiting room to meet with our family. He told us that as they began the surgery, they could see that the cancer had spread throughout my father’s body. Based upon what they observed, my father had just a few months to live. We were devastated.
As my father awakened from the surgery, he was anxious to learn if the procedure had been successful. We shared with him the grim news.
We continued to fast and pray for a miracle. As my father’s health quickly declined, we began to pray that he could be free of pain. Eventually, as his condition worsened, we asked the Lord to allow him to pass quickly. Just a few months after the surgery, as predicted by the surgeon, my father did pass away.
Much love and care were poured out upon our family by ward members and family friends. We had a beautiful funeral that honored the life of my father. As time passed, however, and we experienced the pain of my father’s absence, I began to wonder why my father had not been healed. I wondered if my faith was not strong enough. Why did some families receive a miracle, but our family did not? I had learned on my mission to turn to the scriptures for answers, so I began to search the scriptures.
Moroni brings additional understanding as he shares the words of his father, Mormon. After speaking of miracles, Mormon explains, “And Christ hath said: If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me.” I learned that the object of my faith must be Jesus Christ and that I needed to accept what was expedient to Him as I exercised faith in Him. I understand now that my father’s passing was expedient to God’s plan. Now, as I lay my hands upon the head of another to bless him or her, my faith is in Jesus Christ, and I understand that a person can and will be physically healed if it is expedient in Christ.
But here is the greater lesson I learned. I had mistakenly believed that the Savior’s healing power had not worked for my family. As I now look back with more mature eyes and experience, I see that the Savior’s healing power was evident in the lives of each of my family members. I was so focused on a physical healing that I failed to see the miracles that had occurred. The Lord strengthened and lifted my mother beyond her capacity through this difficult trial, and she led a long and productive life. She had a remarkable positive influence on her children and grandchildren. The Lord blessed me and my siblings with love, unity, faith, and resilience that became an important part of our lives and continues today.
But what about my dad? As with all who will repent, he was spiritually healed as he sought and received the blessings available because of the Savior’s Atonement. He received a remission of his sins and now awaits the miracle of the Resurrection. The Apostle Paul taught, “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” You see, I was saying to the Savior, “We brought my dad to You to be healed,” and it is now clear to me that the Savior did heal him. The balm of Gilead worked for the Nielson family—not in the way that we had supposed, but in an even more significant way that has blessed and continues to bless our lives.

He served a mission in Japan. In 2004 he went back to Japan as a mission president. He considers Asia his second home.

One day in Italy I met a wonderful priesthood leader and his wife. In him I saw a man with great potential. But my language was foreign to them. Through an interpreter, I challenged them to study the English language. They listened obediently and studied diligently. Now six years later, ably sustained by his wife, Carolina, Vincenzo Conforte is faithfully serving his second assignment as a mission president, interviewing missionaries well in Italian or in English.

We visited the Dominican Sisters who cater for 100 families, with almost 500 people in total. They were out of food but with the help of Bellwether International, thankfully, we were able to bring enough food to help them for the next few days.

When I went on my first mission back in 1905, my cousin and I traveled together to Liverpool; he was sent up into Norway and I was sent to Holland. After we had been in the mission field a few months, I received a letter from him, addressing me by name, and he said: “I met a man the other day who knows more about religion than I ever dreamed of. I told him that if he had something better than I had, I would join his church.”
I wrote him back, addressing him by name, and I said: “You told him just the right thing. If he has something better than you have, you ought to join his church.” Then I quoted some of the experiences that Brother Fyans related to us this morning. I said: “Does he have something better than a personal visitation of God the Father, and his Son, Jesus Christ, in a pillar of light, after centuries of spiritual darkness, to open the dispensation of the fulness of times and to reveal the true personality of the Godhead—that they are glorified personages?”
I said: “Does he have something better than the coming of Moroni with the plates from which the Book of Mormon was translated? Does he have something better than the coming of John the Baptist with the Aaronic Priesthood, the power and authority to baptize by immersion for the remission of sins? Does he have something better than the coming of Peter, James, and John—Apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ—with the holy Melchizedek Priesthood, the holy Apostleship, the authority to organize the church and kingdom of God for the last time to prepare the way for the coming of the Son of Man and to convey the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands?
“Does he have something better than the coming of Moses with the keys of the latter-day gathering of Israel that has brought us here into these valleys of the mountains? Does he have something better than the coming of Elijah of whose coming Malachi bore testimony that if it were not for his coming, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord, the whole earth would be utterly wasted at his coming? Think of the consequences. Now,” I said, “if he has something better than that, you join his church.”

Karl G. Maeser was born in 1828 in Saxony, Germany, and joined the Church in his native land. In 1860, when Dr. Maeser and his family moved to Utah, he became the private tutor to Brigham Young’s family. Sixteen years later, President Young called him to become the principal of the Brigham Young Academy, forerunner to Brigham Young University.
Before Brother Maeser left for this new assignment, President Young told him: “I want you to remember that you ought not to teach even the alphabet or the multiplication tables without the Spirit of God. That is all. God bless you. Goodbye.” In the difficult years that followed, that admonition guided Brother Maeser’s efforts. (See Edwin Butterworth Jr., “Eight Presidents: A Century at BYU,” Ensign, October 1975, 23.)

One night at Mutual the missionaries gave us copies of the Book of Mormon to share. We had the option of giving it to a person we had in mind or giving it back to the missionaries to distribute. I had it set in my mind that I was going to give it to a friend in my math class. It was going to be great. As I went to school the next day excited about the start of my missionary work, I saw one of my friends, Brandon. He was going to class as well, but we stopped and spoke. Right then I had the strongest feeling that I had to give him the Book of Mormon. I thought about it as I kept going to class and came to the conclusion that the feeling was too strong to ignore and that I needed to place the book with him.
The next day I asked him to meet me after school so that I could give him something really important. He agreed, and we went on. When the time came for me to go downstairs to give it to him, I thought that I couldn’t do it. It kept going through my mind that he would think I was strange. What if he said no? I finally heard a still small voice tell me that if I didn’t do this, then I wouldn’t have the experience I need for the future. So, I went down and I spoke with him. I told him that the book was another testament of Jesus Christ, and that it has many important truths in it. I also told him that when I read it, it fills me with a comfort that I know I will be OK in the end. He took it, and I was relieved. Later that week he came to church with my family and met the missionaries.
I am extremely grateful for the Book of Mormon. I know that it is the true word of God. I also know that I was given the best opportunity to share the gospel because I listened and felt the Spirit.

The importance of choice may be illustrated by a homespun concept that came to mind one day when I was shopping in a large retail store. I call it “patterns of the shopper.” As shopping is part of our daily life, these patterns may be familiar.
Wise shoppers study their options thoroughly before they make a selection. They focus primarily on the quality and durability of a desired product. They want the very best. In contrast, some shoppers look for bargains, and others may splurge, only to learn later—much to their dismay—that their choice did not endure well. And sadly, there are those rare individuals who cast aside their personal integrity and steal what they want. We call them shoplifters.
The patterns of the shopper may be applied to the topic of marriage. A couple in love can choose a marriage of the highest quality or a lesser type that will not endure. Or they can choose neither and brazenly steal what they want as “marital shoplifters.”

1 One day Tanner got a picture of Jesus. He loved the picture. He wanted to share it with somebody. He knew that not everybody knows about Jesus.
2 “Mom, can I give my picture of Jesus to somebody?” Tanner asked.
“Sure,” Mom said. “Who will you give it to?”
“I’m going to give it to my teacher, Mrs. Young. I like her because she reads me lots of stories.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom said. “I’m proud of you.”
3 When Tanner got to preschool, he gave the picture to Mrs. Young. She was happy to get a picture of Jesus. Tanner was happy she liked it.
4 A few days later, Tanner and his family made a book that looked like the Book of Mormon golden plates. Then they wrote their testimonies in the book.
“Mom, can I take our book to school to show Mrs. Young?” Tanner asked.
“Yes, you can,” Mom said.
5 The next day at school, Tanner carried a backpack with his family’s golden plates inside. He told Mrs. Young about the book his family had made. Tanner’s teacher was very interested.
6 When Mom picked up Tanner from school that day, his teacher went to talk to Tanner’s mother.
“Tanner brought something very interesting today,” Mrs. Young said. “Can you tell me more?”
“How would you and your husband like to come to dinner at our house?” Mom asked. “We can talk more then.”
“That sounds great,” Mrs. Young said.
7 A few months later, Tanner and his mother went to Mr. and Mrs. Young’s baptism.
“I’m very happy I shared my picture of Jesus with my teacher,” Tanner said.
“I know that she is too,” Mom said. “You are a big reason why Mrs. Young and her husband are being baptized today.”
8 Tanner had a happy feeling as he watched Mrs. Young be baptized. He smiled as Mom leaned over and whispered, “Four-year-olds are great missionaries!”

I have been flying many kinds of aircraft for the last 30 years, both in the United States and in Latin American countries. Not too long ago when I had returned to the States after an absence of some years, a very dear friend offered me the use of his new, twin-engine Cessna. It just happened to be one of my favorite aircraft. It not only had the special, powerful engines with turbo-superchargers that could take it up to very high altitudes, but it had all the radios, all the electronic navigational aids, the transponder, the distance-measuring equipment, full instruments for all-weather flight, oxygen, and so on, just like the commercial airliners. I couldn’t think of a more enjoyable plane to fly, but with so much equipment (this was a very expensive, sophisticated bird), I reluctantly passed up the chance, saying, “Someday we’ll go to Mexico together.”
A few months passed, and every time I saw my friend he offered his plane again, but I never felt I should accept, even though the offer was very sincere. Then one day my friend brought to my office a set of keys and a pilot’s manual as evidence that he really would be pleased if I would use his beautiful aircraft sometime. The keys in my hand generated an overwhelming desire to go down to Mexico to my favorite spot for deep-sea fishing. Unfortunately Jack couldn’t go the days I had free but assured me that I should go alone. We discussed my qualifications of being covered under his insurance policy, and it turned out that I needed a check ride with a qualified inspector as it had been some time since I had flown that particular type of plane.
The arrangements were made, and I met the inspector at the side of the airplane at the appointed hour with my licenses from the USA, Argentina, Paraguay, and Ecuador, and logbooks showing flights in Cessna 310s across jungles, mountains, deserts, international boundaries, etc. He smiled calmly but was unimpressed and said, “I’ve heard about you, and I have no doubt about how much flying you have done, but I have to assume that those flights were when nothing went wrong. Now let’s fire up this bird and see how well you fly it when everything goes wrong!”
For the next hour he made everything go wrong! He simulated every emergency he could think of. He turned things off that should have been on. He turned things on that should have been off. He tried to create disorientation or panic. He really wanted to know how well I could fly when everything did go wrong! In the end he climbed out, signed my logbook, and announced, “You’re okay. I’d let my wife and kids fly with you.” I took that as being a great compliment.

One Christmas, my young son needed two dollars to make me a present. On Christmas morning, he was so excited about it that, in spite of the many brightly wrapped packages with his name on them, he insisted I open his present first. It was a pencil holder for my office—made from a jar covered with brightly colored macaroni shells. The two dollars bought pencils and erasers. I was pleased with his innocence and love. He then eagerly turned to his own presents.

A few years ago President Smith had a cabin in Mill Creek Canyon, where he often went to relax and to meditate. One day he wrote some little verses to express his feeling for some of God’s creations, and he drew an illustration to accompany each one. At this birthday time we are grateful that he has given us permission to share these verses and illustrations with his friends.