Gospel Story Finder

I love to read! Reading is one of my favorite hobbies. When I was in second grade, I began reading bigger chapter books of all different genres. Now I read every spare moment that I can! I read in the morning, when I finish my work at school early, and on the way to violin lessons. Sometimes I even sneak a book under my covers to read after bedtime.

Elaine Jennings, a Laurel in the Worthington Ward, Crawley England Stake, is excited about missionary work. While attending an international student conference in Italy (where this picture was taken) Elaine shared her standards and beliefs with the girls she roomed with at the conference.
Elaine also knows that the temple is a powerful missionary tool. She recently invited five of her school teachers to tour the London Temple prior to its rededication. Of the four who attended, one asked to meet with the missionaries.
Although none of those teachers has joined the Church, Elaine knows that what she did was important.
“I did what I could,” says Elaine. “I invited them to feel the Spirit, but it’s up to them to make the choice and act on it.”

I wish I could get in touch with the person whose letter was published in the September 1986 feedback section under the title “I wish I had a friend.” I had a very similar experience in my lifetime. When I was nine years old we moved from a ward where I had wonderful friends to a ward 30 miles away from my old one. I never fit in with the large crowd of kids my age in my new ward. I struggled along for nine years, never really quitting, but sometimes attending Mutual and Sunday School only half of the time.

But I consider myself a survivor. When I moved away to attend college I made a new beginning, and I did my best to be the “Marcy” in my student ward. I sought out those who sat alone or seemed shy, and I tried to be a friend to them. By doing this, I built up my own confidence and again found myself confident around anyone in our ward.

My story has a happy ending. I have since married in the temple and have had three children. If I could make contact with the writer of “I wish I had a friend,” maybe we could compare experiences and learn from each other and perhaps bring about a happy ending for this story, too.

Still, when she and her husband moved to South America to lead the Peru Arequipa Mission from 2016 to 2019, she longed for words. Having never studied Spanish, she prayed for the ability to communicate with her missionaries and the people so they would feel her love for them and her testimony of the Book of Mormon.
“I trusted in the Lord and relied upon the Spirit to communicate my love and testimony when words failed me. What a sweet and poignant lesson I learned to ‘lean not unto [my] own understanding’ [Proverbs 3:5] but to give it all over to my Savior.”
Along the way she relearned a simple truth of the gospel: “It is about loving the Savior, loving like the Savior, and letting the love and Atonement of Jesus Christ work in our lives.”
Sister Johnson was blessed with love for the mission’s 552 missionaries and now feels her heart expand to love the one million children for whom she has stewardship.
“I relish this opportunity to learn from the children who are a reflection of the pure love of Jesus Christ,” she said.

Olivio Gomes Manuel grew up in a small Angolan village. He and his seven brothers and sisters lived in a two-room mud hut with a dirt floor and thatched roof. Plumbing and electricity were unheard of.
When Olivio was nine years old, his country was thrust into an extremely violent civil war in which thousands were murdered or just disappeared. Then, when most of the fighting was over, famine swept through Angola, and thousands more died of starvation. “It was not a good life,” Olivio says, in his very deep, soft voice. Understatement is typical of him.
But Olivio was saved from starvation by his incredible height and agility. He was able to play basketball for food. “God blessed me,” he says.
By the age of eleven, Olivio was six-foot-three. He had been playing professional ball for about two years. “Professional” meant that the company that sponsored his team would sometimes feed him on game days. Some weeks, those were the only full meals Olivio ate.
And the road trips were the best of all—his meals were all taken care of. Olivio played in Nigeria, Algeria, Zaire, and even in Czechoslovakia. “I was there for ten days, and they gave us money for food,” says Olivio. “With this money I bought clothes and shoes for my family. It was difficult to buy clothes in Angola. They were so expensive.”
Olivio had been raised by his parents to be a good Christian, but at times his faith was tried. “If there is a God, how can he let so many people die—so many people suffer?” he asked. Still, Olivio could not deny that God had had a hand in his survival. He felt that he was being prepared for something.

Sherman and Austin are two of many chimpanzees living at the Yerkes Regional Primate Research Center in Georgia. They, too, have learned to communicate with humans by means of sign language. Taking it one step further, however, they have now begun to converse with each other by this means. Located in separate rooms with a small opening between them, Sherman will use his computer keyboard to ask Austin for a certain food. Austin will read his request and then proceed to fill his order, choosing from among as many as fifteen different delicacies, such as orange drink, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and candies. These chimpanzees are now at the point where they are asking each other for specific tools to help them reach food in hard-to-get-at places.

Here is another trial. There have always been a few who want to discredit the Church and to destroy faith. Today they use the Internet.
Some of the information about the Church, no matter how convincing, is just not true. In 1985, I remember a colleague walking into my business office in Florida. He had a Time magazine article entitled “Challenging Mormonism’s Roots.” It spoke of a recently discovered letter, supposedly written by Martin Harris, that conflicted with Joseph Smith’s account of finding the Book of Mormon plates.19
My colleague asked if this new information would destroy the Mormon Church. The article quoted a man who said he was leaving the Church over the document. Later, others reportedly left the Church.20 I’m sure it was a trial of their faith.
A few months later, experts discovered (and the forger confessed) that the letter was a complete fraud. I remember really hoping that those who had left the Church because of this deception would find their way back.

For the next several years, I enjoyed all the blessings Latter-day Saint youth have. I attended seminary and Young Men activities, blessed and passed the sacrament, and eventually received the Melchizedek Priesthood. Unfortunately, my mother opposed my Church activity, protesting that I spent too much time at church. When I turned 19 and began to fill out my mission papers, my mother asked me to stop. I decided to respect her wishes and to serve the Lord in whatever other ways I could.
For the next four years, I served as stake clerk, giving my might, mind, and strength to my duties. And I often worked with the full-time missionaries. I dreamed of someday becoming a full-time missionary.
In time, I was called to teach seminary. This opportunity, along with my stake calling, kept me busy enough to feel that at least I was serving the Lord—even though I was not on a mission.

Renee Holloway, a member of the Bonifay Ward, Panama City Florida Stake, is a goal setter.
At the beginning of her senior year she set several goals that helped her throughout the year. She decided she would read her scriptures every night and devote time to seminary study. She also achieved a goal to complete her Young Womanhood Recognition.
Renee received an award as the outstanding senior band member at her high school. She also received an award for being the most outstanding senior in her graduating class, an accomplishment she believes she couldn’t have achieved without setting goals. Renee said she was often inspired by the many faithful Latter-day Saint teenagers she read about in the New Era.

This stamp “encourages the world to have hearts full of love and peace for everyone. Our world is so full of wars and hate that to encourage love, peace, and harmony seems to be a great message.”
These were the words of an essay by 12-year-old Lance Howard, deacons quorum president in the Clinch River Ward, Knoxville Tennessee Cumberland Stake. Lance’s essay about his favorite postage stamp won him first place in the U.S. Postal Service’s “Celebrate the Century” essay contest for east Tennessee.
The postmaster in Powell, Tennessee, was especially moved by Lance’s words: “Not often do we see the powerful message coming from this age group as there is in his essay.”

As the father of seven sons, I have always wanted them to love, honor, and respect their mother. As the older ones have gone through their teen years and beyond, it has been gratifying to watch them do special things for their mother.
My wife, Nicki, loves flowers. Over the years, it has not been uncommon for one of the boys to bring his mother a special bouquet of a dozen roses. These floral gifts haven’t necessarily come on Mother’s Day, her birthday, or some other special occasion, although they have come then too. More often than not, these timely gifts come spontaneously and unexpectedly just to say, “Thanks, Mom, for everything you do and for putting up with me.”
Such was the case when Jarom, our mission-bound son, surprised his mother. Over the years Jarom had found words and gestures of love and appreciation difficult to come by. He was a big, handsome, muscular young man who could bench-press 300 pounds but still struggled to refine the delicate art of telling his mother he loved her.
Of course, Nicki knew Jarom loved her, and she had accepted the fact that he would probably communicate his love and appreciation to her in other ways not associated with flowers, cards, or even spoken words.
But one afternoon he walked into the house and handed her a bouquet of yellow long-stemmed roses. Somewhat taken aback, Nicki caught her breath and exclaimed, “Jarom, how beautiful!” She instinctively breathed in their rich fragrance. “I love them. One dozen yellow roses!”
Jarom shrugged sheepishly and shook his head. “Actually, there are only 11,” he confessed. He cleared his throat and smiled bashfully. “I gave one of them away.”
He paused and then explained. “I picked up the roses and was on my way home when I passed this girl from our neighborhood. She was about nine or ten, just kind of dragging down the sidewalk, looking really sad.” He shrugged and grinned. “So I figured, why not. I stopped, took a rose from your bouquet and handed it to her. I told her to have a great day.”
“What did she do?” Nicki asked, curious.
Jarom laughed. “Well, she wasn’t sad anymore.” He took a deep breath and added, “So that’s why you’ve only got 11 roses.”
Nicki smiled for a moment and tried to picture in her mind that girl walking down the street, discouraged and perhaps crushed by some adolescent tragedy. In the midst of her sorrow she looks up and sees this big, handsome neighbor approach her with a single yellow rose, perhaps the first she has ever received in her life. He smiles at her, hands her the rose, and tells her to have a great day. She is probably flattered beyond words, and suddenly her gray day is brightened by the unexpected light from Jarom’s yellow rose.

Someone told me in every fight there’s a mule and a peacemaker. A mule never gives in or apologizes, but the peacemaker always tries to be nice and make peace. I was very inspired by this and from then on tried to be the peacemaker.
Anna LieberHinterkappelen, Switzerland

How important is a letter? At a testimony meeting far from home, a young man said: “The devil had me convinced that I was a forgotten soul. Why not sin a little? Then a letter from Mom, one from my bishop, and a letter from our ward’s executive secretary finally caught up with me—one, two, three. I’d prayed for reassurance, but never had I felt such a sense of being important! Three letters to prove it. All in one mail call! I thank God for those few who care.”

President Gordon B. Hinckley was once asked by a minister why Latter-day Saints do not wear crosses or display them in their buildings.
President Hinckley said to him: “‘I do not wish to give offense to any of my Christian colleagues who use the cross on the steeples of their cathedrals and at the altars of their chapels, who wear it on their vestments, and imprint it on their books and other literature. But for us, the cross is the symbol of the dying Christ, while our message is a declaration of the Living Christ.’
“[The minister] then asked: ‘If you do not use the cross, what is the symbol of your religion?’
“I replied that the lives of our people must become the most meaningful expression of our faith.”President Gordon B. Hinckley, “The Symbol of our Faith,” Liahona, Apr. 2005, 2; see “The Symbol of Christ,” New Era, Apr. 1990, 4.

It follows that when Joseph Smith—sent to a martyr’s death by evil and murderous men—gasps his last breath, Brigham Young, being the next senior officer in the earthly kingdom, automatically becomes its presiding officer.

The next breath drawn by Brother Brigham is the breath of power filling the lungs of the Lord’s previously anointed servant. There is not so long a time as the twinkling of an eye when the Church is without a presiding officer.

In 1987, the presidency of the Lima temple received notice that a large group of members were coming by bus from Guayaquil, Ecuador. They had made great sacrifices in order to come, many having sold their belongings.
Warm-hearted members of the Lima stakes prepared to receive the Ecuadoreans in their homes. The visitors were planning to stay three days to receive their endowment, be sealed as families, and do temple work for their deceased ancestors. They were to arrive Tuesday and return home Friday.
But Tuesday night, word came that the group had been stopped at the Peruvian border because their bus did not have the correct papers to enter Peru. They were doing everything possible to be able to continue on to Lima.
They did not arrive on Wednesday or Thursday. And there was no further word from them. The workers at the Lima temple assumed that the group had been obligated to turn back and return home.
On Friday at 2:00 A.M., the security guard at the temple received word that the bus from Ecuador had arrived in Lima and that they needed someone to guide them to the temple. The guard called the temple president, Glen V. Holley, who dressed quickly and hurried to the temple. He sent someone to guide the visitors to the temple, and had the outdoor temple lights turned on. When the bus from Ecuador drove into the temple parking area, the temple—with its beautiful white marble and its statue of the Angel Moroni—was all aglow.
President Holley entered the bus and saw that “adults and children alike were crying. One brother sobbed, ‘We’ve arrived! We’ve arrived!’
“Tears were running down my cheeks, too,” said President Holley. “I stammered a welcome and invited them to the auxiliary building to clean up and shower, since they had been on the bus five days. I sent for ordinance workers to come to the temple immediately. By 5:00 A.M., unscheduled temple sessions were in progress. Everyone was happy. Before the end of the day, everyone was endowed, sealed, and had done some work for their ancestors.”
That evening, they departed—tired, but happy. They still had a two-and-a-half day return trip.

13. May 15, 1829 While translating the Book of Mormon, Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery desired to know more about baptism for the remission of sins. They walked to a nearby river and prayed. John the Baptist appeared.
May 1829
John the Baptist restored the Aaronic Priesthood. Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery ordained and baptized each other (see JS—H 1:68–73; see also D&C 13).

Finally, and perhaps most meaningfully, the Book of Mormon has guided my personal life. I remember turning to the scriptures when I was about to end a dating relationship. I felt a great deal of anguish. But a verse I read, 2 Nephi 10:20, spoke directly to my heart and gave me a calm feeling: “Now, my beloved brethren, seeing that our merciful God has given us so great knowledge concerning these things, let us remember him, and lay aside our sins, and not hang down our heads, for we are not cast off; nevertheless, we have been driven out of the land of our inheritance; but we have been led to a better land, for the Lord has made the sea our path, and we are upon an isle of the sea.”
Remembering the Lord, as that verse suggests, gave me courage and hope. I could rely on the “great knowledge” of the gospel that God had given me, and I could be assured that I was not “cast off.” There were good things ahead.

About two months before his children turned eight years old, one father would set aside time each week to prepare them for baptism. His daughter said that when it was her turn, he gave her a journal and they sat together, just the two of them, and discussed and shared feelings about gospel principles. He had her draw a visual aid as they went along. It showed the premortal existence, this earth life, and each step she needed to take to return to live with Heavenly Father. He bore his testimony about each step of the plan of salvation as he taught it to her.

When his daughter recalled this experience after she was grown, she said: “I will never forget the love I felt from my dad as he spent that time with me. … I believe that this experience was a major reason I had a testimony of the gospel when I was baptized.” (See Teaching, No Greater Call, 129.)

Some of those calls may seem unimportant, but my life, and my family, was changed for the better by my accepting a call to teach a deacons quorum. I felt the love of those deacons for the Savior and His love for them.