Gospel Story Finder

Brother and Sister Harvey’s first mission to the Minnesota Minneapolis Mission in 1992 was a wonderful experience, especially for Sister Harvey, who had wanted to serve a full-time mission since the time her children had prepared to go on their own missions. She and her husband found joy in reactivating members and seeing a branch organized.

Among many unsigned letters I have received was one of particular interest. It contained a $20 bill and a brief note which stated that the writer had come to my home many years ago. When there was no response to the bell, he had tried the door and, finding it unlocked, had entered and walked about. On the dresser he saw a $20 bill, took it, and left. Through the years his conscience had bothered him and he was now returning the money.
He did not include anything for interest for the period during which he had used my money. But as I read his pathetic letter I thought of the usury to which he had subjected himself for a quarter of a century with the unceasing nagging of his conscience. For him there had been no peace until he had made restitution.

I’ve been a competitive swimmer for about five years. During one season, my coach and I realized I was progressing enough to swim on the varsity (advanced) team. But I knew that varsity practice times conflicted with in-person seminary, one of my favorite places to start my mornings and a key way I was coming closer to Christ.
I really struggled with this decision. As I prayed about it, I felt impressed that joining the varsity team was something God wanted me to do. I took a leap of faith and prepared myself to begin both varsity swimming and online seminary.
Waking up for early morning seminary had rarely been difficult for me. Though I was tired, I knew I was headed to a place of peace and learning. But waking up around 4:45 for swim practice was isolating and dark. And the practices were more difficult than any I had experienced.
In this time, I remembered a talk I loved by President Russell M. Nelson. A quote from the talk stood out to me:
“When you reach up for the Lord’s power in your life with the same intensity that a drowning person has when grasping and gasping for air, power from Jesus Christ will be yours. When the Savior knows you truly want to reach up to Him—when He can feel that the greatest desire of your heart is to draw His power into your life—you will be led by the Holy Ghost to know exactly what you should do.
“When you spiritually stretch beyond anything you have ever done before, then His power will flow into you.”
As I reflected on this quote, I came to understand on a deeper level what it felt like to be drowning. On the one hand, I sometimes felt like I was literally drowning. My body was being pushed to its max in the water, and I was often literally gasping for air. I also felt like I was drowning in darkness and isolation. I desperately needed air and saving.
To show Heavenly Father and the Savior that I wanted to reach up to Them, I focused on taking action. I attended the temple, studied the scriptures daily, participated in online seminary, and prayed for help and a positive attitude.
As I look back on this immensely difficult time, I can testify that “His power [did] flow into [me]!” Jesus Christ strengthened and enabled me. Sometimes it was hard to see in the moment, but when I look back and pray to see how I have grown, I see the Savior’s hand in my life. I know that He lives and loves me! Because of Him, all things are possible when we believe.

One of the most beautiful modern-day examples of meekness that I am aware of is that of Brother Moses Mahlangu. His conversion began in 1964, when he received a copy of the Book of Mormon. He was fascinated as he read this book, but it was not until the early ’70s that he saw an LDS Church sign on a building in Johannesburg, South Africa, as he was walking down a street. Brother Mahlangu was intrigued and entered the building to learn more about the Church. He was kindly told that he could not attend the services or be baptized because the country’s laws did not allow it at that time.

Brother Mahlangu accepted that decision with meekness, humility, and without resentment, but he continued to have a strong desire to learn more about the Church. He asked the Church leaders if they could leave one of the meetinghouse windows open during the Sunday meetings so he could sit outside and listen to the services. For several years, Brother Mahlangu’s family and friends attended church regularly “through the window.” One day in 1980 they were told that they could attend church and also be baptized. What a glorious day it was for Brother Mahlangu.

Later the Church organized a branch in his neighborhood in Soweto. This was possible only because of the determination, courage, and faithfulness of people like Brother Mahlangu who remained faithful for so many years under difficult circumstances.

One of Brother Mahlangu’s friends, who had joined the Church at the same time, recounted this story to me when I visited the Soweto stake. At the end of our conversation, he gave me a hug. At that moment, brothers and sisters, I felt as if I was encircled in the Savior’s loving arms. Meekness emanated from this good brother’s eyes. With a heart full of goodness and deep gratitude, he asked if I could just tell President Thomas S. Monson how grateful and blessed he and many others were for having the true gospel in their lives. Brother Mahlangu and his friend’s example of meekness truly influenced many lives for good—especially mine.

One day it finally happened. Two young men stood at the front door of our little apartment.
“What is it?” I asked. After taking a quick look at them, I was ready to defend myself. No matter what it was, I wanted them to understand that I did not need anything and that I wanted to be left alone.
Then I took a second look at the two young men in front of me and found reason to question my first judgment. They were dressed with care. They were clean but not shiny or wealthy. Their eyes radiated dignity and peace. Their gestures were humble but not cheap. Their appearance represented politeness and readiness to listen, self-esteem, and willingness to respect my own right of privacy.
“We have an important message for you,” one of them said.
When I have tried to describe the appearance of the first missionaries at my door, I cannot help but say what they didn’t look like. They didn’t look like salesmen. Instead, they radiated something very different, something powerfully strong—the Spirit of the Lord. It became impossible for me to send them away.
Little did I know that from then on my life would never be the same—that I had already set my foot on a path that would eventually lead me toward becoming a member of the Lord’s Church.
I felt power and authority radiating from the missionaries during their visit to our home some thirty years ago. As I watch young members of the Church today, I think we have much reason to rejoice as we see many of them embracing this gift from Heavenly Father and standing firm in these days of challenge. I pray that we may all place our lives on the foundation of Christ through living close to the Spirit and following it always.

Nate was walking home from school on Monday. He saw something shiny. It was a yellow truck in a sandbox. Yellow was his favorite color! He put the truck in his pocket.
At home, Nate took out the truck to play. But when he looked at it, he didn’t feel so good.
On Tuesday, Nate passed the sandbox again. This time he saw an orange truck.
This will go great with the yellow truck, Nate thought. He put it in his pocket. But when Nate got home, he felt bad inside.
The same thing happened Wednesday, when Nate took a purple truck.
On Thursday he took a green truck.
Each time he took a truck, Nate felt worse. But he still wanted to collect more.
On Friday, as Nate reached to grab a white truck from the sandbox, he heard a voice above him.
“I see you like trucks.”
Nate jumped back. A woman was smiling at him.
“My son, Cayden, is about your age,” the woman said. “He has been losing a lot of trucks lately. Do you know where they are?”
Nate gulped. He knew he was in trouble. But he also knew that telling the truth was the right thing.
“I have them at my house,” Nate said. “I’ll go get them!”
Nate ran home. He told Mom what had happened. They said a prayer. Nate told Heavenly Father he was sorry. He asked for the bad feelings to go away. Then they took the trucks back to the sandbox.
“Sorry I took your trucks,” Nate said to Cayden.
“Thanks for bringing them back,” Cayden said. “Want to play?”
Nate smiled and nodded. Playing with trucks had never been so fun. And next week, he would make better choices!

It is surprisingly easy to take what should be our first devotion and subordinate it to other priorities. Fifty years ago, the Christian philosopher C. S. Lewis illustrated that tendency with an example that is distressingly applicable in our own day. In his book The Screwtape Letters, a senior devil explains how to corrupt Christians and frustrate the work of Jesus Christ. One letter explains how any “extreme devotion” can lead Christians away from the Lord and the practice of Christianity. Lewis gives two examples, extreme patriotism or extreme pacifism, and explains how either “extreme devotion” can corrupt its adherent:
“Let him begin by treating the Patriotism or the Pacifism as a part of his religion. Then let him, under the influence of partisan spirit, come to regard it as the most important part. Then quietly and gradually nurse him on to the stage at which the religion becomes merely part of the ‘Cause,’ in which Christianity is valued chiefly because of the excellent arguments it can produce in favour of the British war effort or of pacifism. … Once you have made the World an end, and faith a means, you have almost won your man, and it makes very little difference what kind of worldly end he is pursuing” (C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, rev. ed. [New York: Macmillan, 1982], p. 35).

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to try to read a restaurant menu when you’re blind? How about going through a buffet line in a wheelchair? Joel Williams of the Carrollwood Second Ward did, and decided to do something about it for his Eagle Scout project.
He arranged a special day when teams would visit restaurants in the Tampa, Florida, area, and use a checklist to see how disability-friendly they were. He’d already gotten permission from the participating restaurant managers, of course.
Before the teams went out, however, he set up an “Insight Cafe” in the meetinghouse and assigned each team member a disability with which they would attempt to enjoy a restaurant meal.
When the project was complete, Joel compiled a “Guide to Dining Accessibility,” which is available to the public. It lists restaurants and the handicaps they can accommodate. This was one Eagle project that not only helped the community, but gave tremendous insight to those who participated.

In Germany, football is the most popular sport. My dad signed me up for a football club when I was five. We practiced three or four times a week. Games were mostly on Saturdays and Sundays. When I wasn’t playing football for the club team, I played football with my friends. We played football almost every day until the sun went down.
When I was 15, I started playing for a team in a bigger city. Football became more serious. We practiced more often. We traveled to more places. We played against more teams. Football was my life.
Then, when I was almost 18, I was at a concert. I saw a boy about my age. He stuck out. He wasn’t drinking, smoking, or swearing. I wanted to know why. I found out he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His example made me want to learn more. Later I joined the Church.
After I was baptized, I learned two things. First, I shouldn’t be playing football on the Sabbath. I should go to church. Second, Heavenly Father expected me to serve a mission. But I was pretty good at football. I had a friend I had played football with when we were younger. We each got an offer to play on a professional team. My friend took the offer. I chose to leave football behind and go on a mission instead. It was not a hard choice because I knew the Church was true.
But my choice was difficult for my family and friends. They didn’t understand what I was doing. My parents sent me newspaper clippings of my friend playing football. That was not easy for me. But I never ever regretted serving a mission.
Heavenly Father has blessed me every day because I chose to serve a mission. He has blessed me with peace. I felt the good feeling that comes from making the right choice.

Kelly smiled at the fields whizzing by outside her window. Hay bales stood in neat rows, soon to be stored in the barn. Dad whistled to the radio as he drove. Mom and the baby were sleeping. Soon they would all be at Aunt Lizzie’s farm, surrounded by cousins, aunts, and uncles.
All year, Kelly looked forward to the first weekend in September—the weekend of the family reunion. It was finally here! She couldn’t wait to see her favorite cousin, Angie. Every year they built hay forts, rode horses, and waded in the river.
Kelly jumped out of the car almost before the tires stopped rolling. “We’re here!” she bellowed. She found Angie jumping on the trampoline with a girl she didn’t recognize.
“Kelly!” Angie called.
“Angie!” Kelly called back. She leaped onto the trampoline and hugged her cousin.
“Kelly, this is my best friend, Tricia. My mom said I could bring a friend this year!” Angie bubbled.
Kelly eyed Tricia suspiciously, jealous that Angie had a best friend. Kelly knew it was silly to feel that way—she had friends at home, too. She made an effort to smile.
“Let’s go build a hay fort,” she said to both girls. “Want to?”
Tricia pulled a face. “I’m allergic to hay.”
“What about horseback riding?” Kelly suggested next. “I bet Uncle Jeff would saddle up horses for us.”
“Nah,” Angie said. She looked quickly in Tricia’s direction. “I think we’ll stay here for now.”
Kelly’s heart sank. She could already tell that this reunion would be much different than all the others.
That afternoon, after the hot dog roast, Kelly couldn’t find Angie and Tricia anywhere. “They probably went horseback riding without me!”
“What are you doing, Kelly?” Mom asked. She sat down next to Kelly on the grass, balancing baby Michael in one arm and a juicy slice of watermelon in her other hand.
“Nothing,” she said. “I think I’m going to walk down to the river and go wading.” The river had always been Kelly’s favorite place.
Mom’s smile disappeared. “That’s not such a good idea. Aunt Lizzie says that it’s been raining the past few weeks and that the water is so high you can touch it just by dipping your toes off the bridge.”
“Then I’ll sit on the bridge. I won’t get in the water.” Kelly wanted to be alone.
“I don’t think you should go near the river, not even to the bridge,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go get some watermelon and come back here? Michael and I will keep you company.”
“Oh, Mom.” Kelly pulled herself to her feet and headed for the backyard, even though she didn’t really want any watermelon.
“I’ll sneak off to the river, anyway,” she thought. “Mom will get talking with some aunt or uncle. She won’t notice if I don’t come back.”
Kelly decided to just keep going through the backyard and down to the river.
Don’t go to the river.
Kelly stopped in her tracks. Was the voice real or imagined? “But I want to!” she silently argued. “I’ll be careful.” She started walking again toward the dirt path that led to the bridge.
Mom said not to go.
Kelly frowned. She had been baptized a few months before, and she knew that the Holy Ghost could protect her from danger—if she listened to Him.
“I’m just feeling guilty because Mom would be worried,” Kelly reasoned to herself. “But she’ll never know. And I’ll be OK.”
Kelly passed a deserted picnic table with half-eaten watermelons and butcher knives on it. “Maybe I will have some watermelon. It’ll be nice to have a snack while I’m there.” Kelly swerved toward the table and grabbed a sticky knife. She jabbed the blade into the thick green rind.
“Ouch!”
The knife clattered onto the cutting board as blood seeped out of a cut on Kelly’s thumb. She felt dizzy. She knew the cut was deep.
“Are you OK?” Uncle Jeff ran to her side. Crying, Kelly showed him her bleeding thumb. “You might need stitches,” he said. He pulled a clean white handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped it around Kelly’s wound, and went to find her parents.
In Aunt Lizzie’s bathroom, Mom cleaned Kelly’s cut and bandaged it.
“Will I need stitches?” Kelly whimpered.
“I don’t think so.” Mom smoothed Kelly’s hair. “But you’d better stay inside and sit still for a while, so your thumb doesn’t start bleeding again.”
Angie and Tricia peeked through the bathroom doorway. “Kelly, we heard you got hurt,” Angie said.
Kelly nodded, holding up her thumb.
“Do you want to come play a board game with us?” Tricia asked.
Kelly smiled. “I’d like that.”
As the three girls made their way to Aunt Lizzie’s den, Angie and Tricia explained that Aunt Susan had made them take a nap after lunch. They hadn’t been hiding from Kelly after all!
The girls pulled a game off the bookshelf and settled onto the floor.
“I’m sorry about your thumb,” Angie said. “I heard your mom say that you can’t play outside—that means no wading or horseback riding or anything!”
“It’s OK,” Kelly said. She remembered the promptings she had received before picking up the knife. She imagined the roaring river, deep enough to cover her head. Perhaps some good had come from cutting her thumb after all.
She would never know what could have happened at the bridge. But she knew that the Holy Ghost would protect her if she listened to His promptings. A warm feeling of gratitude filled her heart. Even though she had wanted to disobey, Heavenly Father had protected her this time so that she could learn to listen. She remembered her Primary teacher saying that when you ignore the Holy Ghost, He leaves. Kelly never wanted that to happen.
“Heavenly Father,” she prayed silently, “I will listen to the Holy Ghost—the first time—from now on.”

I had been eagerly waiting for the New Era contest issue for many months. Finally it arrived. My main motive was to criticize the winners and examine their entries to find out what my entries lacked. You see, I had participated in the contest but hadn’t won anything. But as I read the magazine, a beautiful spirit touched me and I forgot my critical attitude. I no longer had the desire to tear apart the winners’ ideas. I felt like reading more and feeling the beautiful spirit that was illustrated so many times. I wish to say a big CONGRATULATIONS to all the winners of the 1980 contest. I read every New Era from cover to cover, and I thoroughly enjoy all the stories and information. All the articles are touching and really help strengthen my testimony. It is neat to read the views and feelings that other Mormons have. New Era, you’re a winner!
Shelley ScottPayette, Idaho

It may not look like Joseph Ahuna is getting ready to go on a mission, but that’s exactly what he’s doing. Joseph earns money for his mission fund performing Polynesian and Native American dances for tourists at Waikiki on the Hawaiian island of Oahu, where he and his family live. This 17-year-old has saved nearly half of what he needs to pay for his mission.
But Joseph knows that money is just a small part of being prepared for a mission. “You have to live the standards of the Church,” he says. Joseph keeps a “For the Strength of Youth” card in his wallet to remind him of those standards.

A few years ago I stood on the spot where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake in 1431. Young Joan of Arc, one of the great heroines in history, became the unlikely standard-bearer for the French army in the Dark Ages, long before the gospel was restored. Joan had the Light of Christ and also the courage to follow its promptings and make a difference. Joan was a peasant girl who could neither read nor write, but she was bright. Long years of war with the English had impoverished and divided her country. At 17, sensing her life had a purpose, she left home, determined to help liberate her oppressed country. Naturally, people scoffed at her ideas and thought she was a little crazy, but in the end she persuaded them to let her have a horse and an escort to go and see the king.

Young King Charles VII of France had heard about Joan and decided to test her. He slipped into the ranks of the army and let one of his trusted associates occupy the throne. When Joan came into the room, she barely acknowledged the man on the throne, but promptly walked up to Charles and curtsied to him as her king. This so impressed the king that he gave her command over his 12,000 troops. At first the French soldiers did not want to obey her, but when they saw that all who followed her succeeded and all who disregarded her failed, they came to look upon her as their leader.

Clad in a suit of white armor and flying her own standard, Joan of Arc liberated the besieged city of Orleans in 1429 and defeated the English in four other battles. Twice she was wounded, but each time she recovered and went on fighting. Her orders seemed to be those of a military genius. She marched into the city of Reims and stood with sword and banner in hand while Charles was crowned king. She fought in the Battle of Paris until she was captured at Compiègne by English allies, who sold her to the English for 16,000 francs. She was imprisoned, tried as a heretic, and then burned at the stake in 1431.

Although this is a sad ending, it does not take away from Joan’s greatness. She was courageous enough to follow the personal inspiration to which all of us are entitled. As the Lord said to the Prophet Joseph Smith, “I am the true light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world.”

Marie Andersen [the name has been changed] learned to trust in the Lord after her young daughter was abused by an adult friend. The family had to suffer an ordeal of lengthy court appearances, during which the little girl herself had to testify.
Marie’s family felt frustrated—their private life exposed to the public. “I found it hard to keep up with my normal family and Church responsibilities,” she said, “and sometimes I felt myself confused and depressed.”
The Lord blessed Marie’s family with friends to help them through that difficult period. He also blessed Marie in another way. During that time, her new baby kept waking up at night—something none of her other children had done. Later, she understood why the baby had been so restless. “I felt the Spirit whisper that the Lord had made my baby wakeful so that I would not lie awake night after night worrying and agonizing,” she said. “The baby gave a purpose to my wakefulness and took my mind off our family’s problems.”

Homemaking.
The word usually conjures up images of sewing, cooking, and home beautification techniques. But three future homemakers in the small town of Orderville, Utah, are using their homemaking and art skills in a rather unusual way.
Aurelia, Ellen, and Deborah Johnson, three sisters who are also members of their local chapter of Future Homemakers of America, painted over a graffiti-covered wall with a mural carrying the slogan: “PRIDE: A drug-free alternative.”
With the help of several classmates and friends, and the luck of two sunshine-filled weeks in the middle of winter, the sisters were able to send their message of hope.

Who can forget the devastating Australian bushfires of 2019-2020, known as Black Summer, that burnt over 24 million hectares of land, destroyed over 3,000 homes, killed 33 people and killed or displaced an estimated three billion animals?
For the residents of the Bega Shire in southeast New South Wales (NSW), Australia, the devastation can still be seen two years on. Fifty-eight percent of the Bega Valley was destroyed by fire, which also took 448 homes and four lives.
In mid-2020, the chairman of the Bega Shire Recovery Committee sent a request to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and after an evaluation of the situation, a partnership was formed.
The Bega Shire Council, Latter-day Saint Charities (which is the humanitarian arm of the Church) and the Pambula/Merimbula Rotary Club worked together to provide 66 water tanks to selected recipients in the Bega Shire community.
Water is essential for life and sanitation and is amongst the most important requirements for families in Bega Shire to begin rebuilding their lives. Landowners in remote areas are not on town water and previously relied on rainwater or local streams for their water supplies. After the fires took out almost everything they owned, including their water tanks, locals relied on costly 1000L water cubes that had to be refilled by water tankers. A thousand litres doesn’t go very far even when it is being used mainly for drinking, cooking and basic hygiene.
Mark and Denise Hamstead (humanitarian and emergency preparedness specialists for the Church in NSW and Canberra) coordinated the project with Lynne Koerbin, and Daryl and Angie Dobsons (Rotary Club’s community service directors) to identify families who were most in need.
The first tanks were ordered from local suppliers and delivered to the first of the recipients in early 2021. The last orders were placed in mid-2021 but due to COVID-19 restrictions, a number were not delivered until late 2021.
Brother and Sister Hamstead, assisted by Brother and Sister Cummins (representing the Canberra Stake presidency) and Area Seventy Elder Robert Simpson and his wife visited several water tank recipients in early December 2021.
There were many heartrending stories behind this project. Here are just three examples which also demonstrate the resilience of so many.

When I get the conference issue of the Liahona, I look at the pictures on every page. I love to see the faces of the people and all the different scenes of conference. They help me feel the spirit that exists all around the world at conference time. How beautiful all of Heavenly Father’s children are! The issue always brings a smile to my face. Thank you for your unseen efforts—thank you for the Liahona.
Jung YeJi, Korea

One summer I spent time in a foreign country working with children with special needs. When I first met the children, I was incredibly nervous. I did not speak their language, but I trusted that the Spirit would guide me in my interactions. As I got to know each child, I realized that language is not a barrier to love. I played, laughed, and did crafts with the children and could not help but feel complete love for them. I glimpsed the love that Heavenly Father has for His children, and the joy that filled my heart defied description.

My brother Henry and I were taking care of our neighbors’ pet chinchilla while they were away on vacation. We liked to feed him raisins and banana chips. One day while we were feeding him, he got out of his cage. We were having a hard time finding him. My brother finally found him under the couch, but every time we tried to grab him he ran away and hid again. I said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father to help us catch the chinchilla. We worked together and finally caught him. I am grateful that I can ask Heavenly Father for help when I need it.Emmett Lytle, age 5, with help from his mom, Middlebury, Connecticut

For several months the next summer, we stayed at our summer home in the mountains. Bimbo loved to go with us so he could run through the woods and chase chipmunks. One day he returned to the cabin with his tail between his legs. His entire face was filled with something that looked like long whiskers; they were porcupine quills. The quills were even inside his mouth. We lovingly wrapped him in a blanket and carried him to a neighboring cabin, where a doctor who treats people was staying. He carefully removed the quills. Again I prayed that our pet would recover without ill effects. We thought Bimbo had learned his lesson, but the very next day he found the porcupine again, and a second trip was made to our good neighbor, the doctor. After that, Bimbo stayed away from porcupines.