Gospel Story Finder

Marikina (pop. 120,000), a bustling town nestled between the heights of Quezon City and the foothills of the Sierra Madre mountain range in Rizal Province, had a bleak daybreak on August 9, 1975, a Saturday, as thick and dark clouds hung like a heavy pall over the valley and torrents of rain fell without let-up.
The dismal atmosphere dampened the will to start the day’s activities and kept many people indoors. At the far end of the main thoroughfare of Provident Village where a group was gathered under an improvised shelter, the situation was more appalling than elsewhere in the valley. That morning, at ten to be precise, groundbreaking for the third chapel of the Manila Philippines Stake was to take place—a predicament that made the guests and Marikina Ward members led by Bishop Roberto Cuizon restless as the appointed hour fast approached.
There were long breaks of silence as the group of Latter-day Saints kept track of time. Among them were Elder Smith Griffin (Regional Representative), Philippines Manila Mission President Raymond L. Goodson, former Philippines Manila Mission President Paul S. Rose and Sister Rose, Brother Frederick Samsel (Church building construction supervisor), President Ruben M. Lacanienta (2nd Counselor, Stake Presidency), and myself.
The rain kept falling without any indication of stopping for this very important Church affair, and it was decided that the symbolic groundbreaking be performed under the improvised shelter. The program, therefore, proceeded as scheduled.
Suddenly, after the speakers had finished and the shovels were about to be given, the rain stopped. An opening in the dark sky showed the face of the sun, and the morning became almost as bright as any sunny day. The ground-breaking ceremony started and was finished on schedule—and the rain started falling again immediately thereafter!—Augusto A. Lim

One day I sat on the school bus near two brothers. They started singing a song I hadn’t heard before. A few of the words were about the Holy Ghost, but they weren’t very nice. I started to feel sick. Later, just thinking about the song made my stomach hurt. After school, I told my mom about it. She thought it was possible that I had misunderstood what the boys were singing about. She told my dad, and we decided to talk to the bus driver about it.
The next morning, the three of us talked to the bus driver. We explained that the boys were singing a song that made me feel bad. My mom said that maybe I had not heard exactly right. The driver seemed concerned and said that he would ask the boys about it.
That afternoon, when I came home, my parents were waiting at the bus stop. The driver got out after me. He told my parents that he had talked to the boys. They said that they had heard the song on a CD but they hadn’t been using the words that were bad. Then they admitted that they really had been singing the bad words. The bus driver said that he felt that the song’s words really were bad and that the boys could not sing it on the bus anymore. They haven’t, and I’m very glad. Now I don’t feel awful inside every time I ride the bus.Aubrey Fitzgerald, age 6West Linn, Oregon

“Elder Scott stressed four things: pray, study the word of God, have weekly FHE, and go to the temple. We should give up things to do them. This will be hard, but I’m challenging myself to do as he said and come closer to God.”
Amelia S., 15, Arizona, USA

It seemed that Rosella wasn’t ever afraid of things. Once she rescued a nonpoisonous snake from some boys who were being mean to it. She carried the snake all the way home so it could live in some bushes in her backyard. I kept watching the snake and its beady, black eyes and wondering if it was going to reach around and bite her. But Rosella didn’t seem worried at all.

Several biblical sites are within walking distance from Hebrew University in Jerusalem where I’m currently living as a student. I can visit the temple steps where Jesus may have taught or the Garden Tomb where some feel that His body was laid before His Resurrection. Living in the Holy Land is a blessing, and I’m grateful for every day I get to spend in this amazing place. But being here as a member of His Church isn’t easy.
Because of the non-proselyting policy in Israel, I’m not allowed to share my faith. I didn’t realize how hard this would be until one of my friends asked me for a copy of the Book of Mormon and I couldn’t give him one. It can feel a bit lonely and isolating to be a disciple of Christ at times.
But I’m also learning some strong lessons here; I can still share the light and love of Jesus Christ with anybody, and I can connect with the Spirit.
Although my education program is very secular, almost all the other students in my classes are believing Christians. We often sit after class and share opinions and insights on the lessons. These conversations have allowed me space where I can bear testimony of Jesus Christ.
As we speak with one another, I’m often reminded of Matthew 18:20: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
Although I can’t actively share the gospel in these conversations, this experience has taught me how talking with fellow disciples about Christ can invite the Spirit into our relationships and keep Him at the center of all we do.
I’ve realized that the only way I can really share the gospel of Jesus Christ here is through who I am. I can’t give people a Book of Mormon here, but I can pray with them, I can help them feel God’s love, and I can bear testimony that God does love them. As I simply strive to keep my covenants and follow the Lord’s commandments, I am testifying of my faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Think you can’t live without television? Youth in the Penasquitos First Ward in San Diego, California, went on a television “fast” for a month. Here’s what three of the young women said about the experience:
“During the time I didn’t watch television, I was trying to decide where to go to college and found the peace of mind to be able to pray and receive the answer I needed.”—Carrie David, 18

Thank you so much for the June 1995 special issue. I really enjoyed reading it, and I especially enjoyed the poem “I Hold His Book” by Julie Batty. The poem reminded me of my own situation. I never really used to read the scriptures unless I had to. But now I read them every night. The article “The Scriptures—Written for You” made me appreciate the scriptures, particularly the Book of Mormon. Thank you again.
Sue-Anne DixonEast London, South Africa

How Many Seeds in a Pumpkin? by Margaret McNamara, illustrated by G. Brian Karas. The biggest pumpkin always has the most seeds, right? Maybe not. Find out what Mr. Tiffin’s class discovers in their messy experiment.

• It looks like a typical professor’s office—windowless, with piles of books and papers. But its occupant, John A. Green, a Brigham Young University professor of French, is anything but typical. In 1981, at a relatively young age, he suffered a stroke that wiped out his memory of both French and English and left him basically paralyzed. Unable to teach, it was assumed he would never return to university life.
But John Green is an extraordinary man. Painstakingly, he began the process of relearning how to read, to walk, and to talk. Within months, he was back in his office, going over his notes, first reviewing, then resuming his research.
In the past few years, Brother Green has completed several carefully-researched volumes on French writer Marcel Schwob. Two of the volumes, part of a planned set of seven, are in print already.
Perhaps most amazing of all, Professor Green has typed every letter of every word of these books with one finger of his left hand. Every weekday, from eight A.M. to five P.M., he works quietly in his office, completing the task he has given himself—a task for which he receives no compensation beyond the disability pay he would still receive if he chose to relax at home.

Many years ago when I was practicing law in California, a friend and client who was not a member of our faith came in to see me and with great enthusiasm showed me a letter he had received from an LDS bishop of a nearby ward. The bishop wrote that a member of his congregation, a former employee of my client, had taken materials from my client’s work site and had rationalized that they were surplus. But after becoming a committed Latter-day Saint and attempting to follow Jesus Christ, this employee recognized that what he had done was dishonest. Enclosed in the letter was a sum of money from the man to cover not only the cost of the materials but also interest. My client was impressed that the Church through lay leadership would assist this man in his effort to be reconciled to God.
Think about the light and truth that the shared value of honesty has in the Judeo-Christian world. Think about the impact on society if youth didn’t cheat in school, if adults were honest in the workplace and were faithful to their marriage vows. For us the concept of basic honesty is grounded in the life and teachings of the Savior. Honesty is also a valued attribute in many other faiths and in historic literature. The poet Robert Burns said, “An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”21 In almost every instance, people of faith feel accountable to God for being honest. This was the reason the man in California was repenting from his earlier act of dishonesty.

One week, I chose Luke 1:37 for my lock screen: “For with God nothing shall be impossible.” I chose it because I had been stressed out about school for several weeks, and I wanted to keep in mind that we can do anything if we have hope and faith. That week, I was doing a math packet for class that was very hard. I started to feel really discouraged. I wanted to give up, and I almost did—until I saw that scripture on my phone: “For with God nothing shall be impossible.” I knew that I could do my math because it was not impossible. I just needed to believe in myself and in God. I said a prayer to help me focus and give me hope. I felt that God was with me, and I was able to focus and get it done.

In line with the Africa West Area vision for 2024, the Port Harcourt/Uyo communication council jointly organized a training program on 25 February 2024 in the just completed Port Harcourt Choba Stake center. The purpose of the meeting was to train members to keep the facility clean and conducive for worship and for the positive portrayal of the Church.
In his opening remark, Chukwu Sacho Nwobuisi, stake president, expressed gratitude for the meetinghouse and implored all to do their best to maintain the facility. He reminded all that cleanliness is next to godliness and that God does not dwell in an unclean place and that keeping the meetinghouse clean should be the responsibility of all.
In his training, the facility manager, Brother Enyiesor Otikor, thanked the stake members for being found worthy to have a Church building and requested their steadfastness in doing all that is required of them to keep and maintain it for the purpose for which it is built. He warned that members shouldn’t litter, touch the walls, leave the lights on when leaving the facility, and should always stack the chairs after use, clean the floor, and maintain the grounds.
A video training presentation was shown highlighting the care and maintenance of a meetinghouse. In her remarks, Sister Winifred Pratt Wonodi, the Port Harcourt/Uyo communication council director, pointed out that it is part of the Africa West Area vision for 2024 that “leaders and members, including youth, have a responsibility to help keep each building clean and in good condition.”
She said, “therefore let’s heed the call to serve the Lord by serving ourselves.”
Members were happy to have the building and promised to do their best to keep the building and environment clean. To make the occasion memorable, a baptismal service was held and the first baptism in the meetinghouse was recorded. The first Primary activity was also held.

Amanda Higbee was frightened. Papa had warned her about the wicked men who hated Mormons. The previous May Papa had baptized her, and it had been the happiest day of her life. Today was the worst, or so Amanda thought. Papa should have come home last night, but he hadn’t. Mama said not to worry, but Amanda was afraid some of the wicked men had caught him.
In the next room a door slammed, and Amanda rushed out. But instead of it being Papa, it was her brother Josiah, yelling, “Ma! The mill’s on fire! Walker’s barn is burning, and they’re heading toward the Robison’s!”
“Who are ‘they’?” asked Ma as Josiah tried to catch his breath.
“A mob of Missourians. They had guns and torches and everything! I heard them say that they were going to burn all the Mormons out of Jackson County.”
If Ma was frightened, she didn’t show it. Instead, she gathered her children about her and said, “Children, your father warned us that this might happen. I’m afraid it won’t be long before they’ll be here. Listen carefully. This is what you must do …”
After listening to Ma’s instructions, the children quickly obeyed. Mary gathered up the bedding, while Josiah brought the wagon around. After handing Joseph a bag of grain, Amanda helped Hannah with the cooking gear. In the distance, a reddish glow lit up the sky, and Amanda could hear men shouting. A few pieces of furniture were loaded into the wagon, and then the Higbees were off, with Josiah driving.
On the road ahead they saw several of their friends and neighbors. The Robisons and Walkers had escaped in time, as well as the Stones and Ewells. Amanda waved to Elizabeth Robison, but Elizabeth just stared past her. Wondering why, Amanda turned around and saw wagonloads of people coming from every direction. Behind them were burning farms and houses. Amanda started to cry. It was too much: Papa was lost, their home was gone, and now they were fleeing for their lives!
“What’s this?” Ma said, turning around. “Tears, Amanda? Hannah, you too? What you need is a good story.”
Amanda didn’t think a story would help, but Ma continued anyway. “Did you know that we are just like the Nephites in the Book of Mormon?” she asked.
“We are?” Josiah asked, “I don’t remember anything like this happening to them.”
“Oh, yes, Josiah,” Ma replied. “The Nephites were driven from their homes many times. Like us, they believed in a prophet of God, and because of their belief, they were often persecuted and sometimes put to death.”
“Did they have a prophet named Joseph Smith, too?” sniffled Hannah, wiping away her tears.
“No, Hannah. But there were many other prophets. Let me tell you about a prophet named Abinadi. When he preached to a certain king by the name of Noah, the wicked king refused to believe Abinadi’s words. He ordered his men to bind Abinadi and kill him by setting him afire.”
“Did they really burn him?” asked Amanda.
“Yes. But one of the king’s men, Alma, believed what Abinadi had taught. When Alma tried to save him, King Noah became even angrier, and he ordered his men to kill Alma too. Luckily Alma escaped from the king’s guards and hid.
“Alma repented of his sins and preached privately among the people the things that Abinadi had taught. Every day more and more people came to listen to Alma. In time over two hundred believers were baptized.
“One day,” continued Ma, “King Noah heard about Alma’s success and sent out an army to destroy Alma and his followers. However, when King Noah’s army reached the forest near the Waters of Mormon where Alma and his people had been gathered, no one was there. Heavenly Father had warned Alma, and everyone had escaped.
“After traveling in the wilderness for eight days, Alma found another beautiful place for his people to live. There they built houses, planted crops, and were very happy. They lived in peace for several years. Then a group of Lamanites and apostate Nephites found them. They were as bad as King Noah. They made Alma and his people slaves; they beat them for believing in Jesus Christ, and if any of Alma’s people were discovered praying to the Lord, they were to be put to death.”
“You mean the Nephites were killed just for praying?” gasped Mary.
“How would the Lamanites know if they were praying—did they have spies?” asked Josiah.
“I don’t know, Josiah,” Ma replied. “But the Nephites were brave people. They outsmarted the Lamanites by praying in their hearts. Heavenly Father heard their prayers and said to Alma, “Thou shalt go before this people, and I will go with thee and deliver this people out of bondage’ (Mosiah 24:17). Then He caused the Lamanites to fall into a deep sleep. While the Lamanites were asleep, the Nephites escaped. Soon they found a country with a good king, Mosiah, and they lived there in peace and prosperity.”
“I liked that story, Ma,” said Amanda. “Please tell us another.”
Everyone agreed, and soon their mother was telling them about Alma and his adventures in the city of Ammonihah. While her mother explained how Alma and Amulek escaped from prison, Amanda realized that she had forgotten all about her own problems.
When nightfall came, the Higbees looked for a place to spend the night. Rain had started to fall, so they decided to camp in the shelter of an overhanging bluff. Some of their friends camped near them, and for a while everyone felt safe. Then, about two o’clock in the morning, the rain turned into a raging storm, and a small stream near the camp became a roaring river. Amanda watched in horror as trees and bushes were swept away. Grabbing her belongings, she joined the rest of the family as they raced for shelter. Earlier, Josiah had spotted a cave near the top of the bluff, so they headed toward it.
Because Ma had become very ill during the night, Brother Carr offered to carry her to the cave. Walking next to them, Amanda felt like crying again. And when she saw that the cave was filled with wild hogs, she was terrified. But she, Mary, and Josiah decided that the family needed the cave more than the hogs did. So, grabbing sticks, the children attacked. The hogs fled.
Ma was carried in as soon as the cave was cleaned out as well as it could be. Too sick to lie down, Ma spent the rest of the night sitting in her chair. Amanda curled up between Mary and Hannah. Sharing a wet blanket, they tried to sleep as lightning crackled, thunder boomed, and babies cried.
Morning came, and with it the sunshine. A familiar voice awakened them. “Hello! Anybody up there?”
Amanda ran from the cave, shouting, “Papa! Papa! You’re safe! You found us!”
Behind her came the rest of the family. Soon everyone had been hugged and kissed. Then Papa explained how he had found them. After hiding for several days, he had returned home to find it burned and his family gone.
“Did you cry, Papa?” asked Amanda, snuggling closer to him.
“Yes, Amanda. I cried, and I prayed. Then this morning I rode into camp and heard about some crazy kids who had chased wild hogs out of a cave so that their mother could get in out of the rain.” The children smiled proudly, and father finished by saying, “Do you realize you probably saved your mother’s life?” He picked up Ma, and they all worked their way down the hill, a complete family once more.
Later that day the Higbees stood near the bank of the mighty Missouri River, where many of the Saints were lined up, waiting to cross over. These people had just fled fire, flood, and mobs. However, hope was in their hearts, for ahead of them was a new land. Like the Nephites, they would again plant crops, build houses, and live in peace for a few years. Their hard times were not over, but for now they were safe and happy to be alive.
The Higbees’ turn on the ferryboat came, and they began the crossing. Looking at the brown waves slapping against the sides of the boat, Amanda felt sick. Oh, Heavenly Father, she silently prayed, help us.
Heavenly Father did help them. They made the trip safely—all except Ma. She was nearly unconscious when Papa carried her up the bank. Some women, seeing her condition, rushed over to help. Within minutes a tent was put up, and Ma was carried inside.
“Is Ma going to die?” asked Hannah fearfully, trying to peek into the tent.
“No,” replied Papa. “Your mother’s baby is ready to be born.”
And sure enough, at that very moment they heard the cry of a newborn baby.
“Yippee!” yelled Josiah. “We just got us a brother.”
“It could be a girl,” Amanda reminded him.
But Josiah was right. Cradled in Ma’s arms was a beautiful baby boy.
“Look at his little fingers and toes,” Hannah whispered.
“Hello, baby!” said Joseph.
“His eyes are so big,” sighed Amanda.
“What’s his name?” asked Josiah.
“Let’s call him Alma,” Ma suggested, and everyone agreed.

As you look in the first file you’ll see Adam’s plan. It’s simple: “For every five dollars I get, I give two to my mission fund,” he says. He also always makes sure to pay his tithing before he sets aside the 40 percent for his mission.
Adam started saving while trying to fulfill his goals in the Duty to God program. One of the goals is to start saving money for a mission. “I just opened a bag, stuck some money in, and started,” he says. He plans on opening a bank account right away.
Starting at 12 might seem early, but Adam’s really excited that he has seven years to save for his mission. He’s not old enough to have a part-time job, but he does jobs for people in his neighborhood, such as emptying recycling bins, shoveling walks, and putting newspapers on the front doorsteps of a few elderly widows. He’s up early in the morning to get his jobs done, and he counts his jobs as small blessings that will one day help his mission fund add up.
“A mission is one of the most important parts of your life. Save up now, and go for two years to help people come to the gospel, and you will be blessed,” Adam says.
Along with his financial preparation, Adam has also set a goal to finish reading the Book of Mormon by the time he’s 13. He reads every day. He’s also trying to magnify his calling as a deacon, so he will be prepared to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood when the time comes. His dad went on a mission, as did his grandpa and great-grandpa Sessions. He’s looking forward to following in their footsteps.

My mom told me that I could not go to my friend’s house until my brother Mark got home. Then she left. After finishing my homework, I got bored and started skipping over to my friend’s house. Then I felt the Holy Ghost, and I knew I shouldn’t go. I went home and waited until Mark came home.Jacob Carroll, age 9

I even had social workers insist that I place one of my children in a semipermanent facility, with contact only once every two years, because they believed I’d never be able to raise two children with autism and ADHD as a single mother. However, having personally experienced the pains of a difficult childhood—my parents divorced when I was a toddler and for various reasons weren’t able to care for me—I was determined to do my best to give my sons the deep love that every child deserves.

Thanks for the idea of sharing a subscription to the New Era. My friends were all delighted to have the subscription. One of my friends is even taking the missionary lessons now and is thinking of joining the Church. I can still remember when he received his first issue, which had a lot about the temples in it. After he had finished reading it, he came running over to my house, with his face glowing, and said “That’s where I want to be married—in the temple!” I’m not a member yet myself. It’s been a two-year wait for me, and I still have to wait another six months. Thanks for this wonderful missionary tool and especially for the article “Every Nonmember a Missionary.” I still remember my next door neighbor saying to me, “Here you are going around telling everybody about the Church, and you’re not even a member yet!” He is now planning to go on a mission when he’s 19. I have been fortunate to have been able to set a good example to many of my friends. As a matter of fact, I now have the opportunity to give a report in my California history class on the Mormon influence in California. It’s not going to be easy to limit myself to historical facts and not try to convert the whole class.
Adriana Lillian BrownMenlo Park, California

Because of the attacks on the United States on September 11, 2001, my grandma was stranded in Colorado. She was visiting my Uncle Bryan, and she could not get a flight home because they were all cancelled. She needed to get home so that she could take some medicine that would cost a lot of money to get in Colorado.
I asked my mom if I could fast for my grandma, even though it wasn’t fast Sunday. Mom thought that that was a good idea. My mom and dad and little sister all fasted and prayed with me, and my grandma was able to make it home safely and get back on her medicine that she needed to take.
I know that Heavenly Father answers prayers, and I know that He loves us and wants to help us.

In the early days of the Church, missionaries were sent into other states, into Canada, and in 1837 across the sea to England. It was in the Kirtland Temple that the Prophet Joseph Smith spoke to Elder Heber C. Kimball: “Brother Heber, the spirit of the Lord has whispered to me: ‘Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim my gospel and open the door of salvation to that nation.’”

Although a man of faith, Elder Kimball was afraid that he lacked the ability to preach. Humbly, he said:
“O, Lord, I am a man of stammering tongue, and altogether unfit for such a work; how can I go to preach in that land, which is so famed throughout Christendom for learning, knowledge and piety; the nursery of religion; and to a people whose intelligence is proverbial!” (Quoted by Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1945, p. 104.)

But he and his associates went to England. While the language they found was essentially the same as their own, many of the customs of the people were different. However, they paid little attention to these. Their message was the gospel of salvation. They spoke of little else. And history bears remarkable testimony of the success of their labors. In the years that quickly followed, the message of the restored gospel was taken to the isles of the sea where entirely new and unique cultures were encountered. It was so in the lands of Europe with new languages to be learned and new customs to be dealt with.

On Church assignment in Hawaii, Sister Wirthlin and I visited the island of Molokai. As we walked back to our car after laboring up a trail in the mountains, we came upon a young man headed toward the overlook. I offered a polite greeting. From his answer, I could tell he was from Germany.
His countenance bespoke a sincere heart and an approachable personality. I spoke his language and knew something of his culture, having served a German-speaking mission. The Spirit prompted me to introduce the gospel to him. However, other people around us interrupted our brief encounter without my having said a word about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I failed to be the missionary that every member of the Savior’s Church ought to be.
As we drove away, I had the disturbing feeling that I had failed in my duty to proclaim the gospel. I was troubled while we drove around the island to see Molokai’s beautiful waterfalls. As we got out of our car, another car drove up and stopped. The young man we had seen earlier stepped out, smiled, and gave me a warm handshake. As I grasped his outstretched hand, I thought to myself, This time I will do my duty.
We introduced ourselves, and I learned he was a university student in a small city south of Düsseldorf, Germany. We spoke of my fond memories of Germany and of my admiration for the German people. Speaking of my work in Europe gave me an ideal opportunity to explain some of the basics of the gospel. As we parted, I asked for his address and telephone number, which he gladly shared. I felt he was truly a newfound friend.
Upon my return to Salt Lake City, I wrote to the Germany Düsseldorf Mission and asked President John F. Charles to send missionaries to continue the gospel discussion. I don’t believe my wife and I met this young man twice by coincidence.
But the Lord doesn’t always give us a second chance to share the gospel. I failed to follow the Spirit the first time the still, small voice unmistakably spoke to my heart and mind. I may not have had another opportunity, but the Lord graciously gave it to me.
We must act when the Spirit speaks. When I did, the young man responded positively to my message. It wasn’t really my message. It was God’s, brought to my mind by the Spirit of the Lord. I was but an instrument in the Lord’s hands.