Gospel Story Finder

On June 23, 2009, the Philippines experienced a typhoon. That afternoon, our area was placed under a severe storm warning. The rest of that day and into the night, we heard something banging on our rooftop. When my son asked what it was, I told him it was our santol tree being whipped by the wind.
I regretted not picking the santol’s sweet fruit a day earlier, as I had planned. But my mother had told me the fruit wasn’t ripe yet and to leave it alone.
At 5:00 a.m. I went outside to look at the tree, fearing to see all the fruit on the ground. I couldn’t see into the tree—it was still dark outside—but I did see four small fruits scattered around our backyard.
An hour later I again inspected the tree. To my delight I saw many big, yellow-green fruit still clinging to the branches. Collecting those that had fallen, I noted that two of them had brownish lesions at the bottom. Black speckles discolored the other one, and the last was misshapen and warty in appearance.
I had expected the bigger, heavier fruit to have fallen; they were twice as big as the ones I collected. But there they were: still securely hanging on to the tree.

Kristen Gilbraith can be counted on to go the distance. She is an excellent long-distance runner and has won three straight 3,200-meter Idaho state titles.
Kristen’s goal is to win the title a fourth time, a feat that has never been done.
To accomplish her goals, Kristen runs regularly all year long. But, in addition, she takes time to be on the honor roll at her high school and serve as president of her Laurel class. Kristen is a member of the Sugar City Third Ward, Sugar City Idaho Stake.

He was worried when he started college and thought about giving up, but Sister Holland told him to have faith.

When I was eight years old, I had a very hard time understanding the scriptures. I tried to be more focused, but it didn’t help. The scriptures had become a big cluster of words that did not mean anything. I began to doubt that the scriptures were true. I made it a goal to understand the scriptures, and I prayed about it. When I started to read again, they made sense. I know that the Lord helped me understand them. If you believe, anything is possible.Allyson Austin, age 9Tallahassee, Florida

A businessman who was in the process of closing down his business suddenly conceived a way to improve his product. He immediately began to work on it, soon went into full production, and reported a sales volume higher than ever before.

There was a young woman who had had a child while unwed. She had traded the child for care, hospital fees, and anonymity. Years passed, and she tried to recover her child but without success. Finally she married, and after a year or two with no children, her fears were confirmed by her doctor, and she came to weep. She would remain childless. Oh, how cheaply she had sold her one chance for motherhood.

When Gordon was ordained a deacon and eligible to attend stake priesthood meeting, his father took the somewhat unwilling boy to his first meeting and, as a member of the stake presidency, went to the stand. Gordon stayed on the back row.
The congregation of men sang as the opening hymn “Praise to the Man.”
Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah
Jesus anointed that prophet and seer. …
Something happened! “There welled up in me an overwhelming conviction!” President Hinckley said later. A spirit of confirmation flowed into his heart, and a spirit of testimony affirmed to that boy deacon that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. He knew it! He knew it! He knew it as firmly as he knew that he lived! From that moment on he was armed with that “residual of faith.”
Later, when the faith of this bright university student was challenged by doubts (always a part of the education of the young members of the Church), the memory of that moment sustained him. Even today, more than sixty years later, he cannot tell of that experience without putting a finger under his glasses to prevent a tear from rolling down his cheek.

As my eighth birthday got closer, I was excited about being baptized. But on the day of the baptism, it was raining and very cold. My mom said that maybe I shouldn’t be baptized that day because of the cold weather. But it was my birthday, and I wanted to be baptized on that day.
I remember putting on my white clothes and getting into the pool to be baptized. I knew that the water would be cold, but I did not feel cold. I knew that I was doing the right thing, and I had a warm feeling.

Following the martyrdom of Joseph Smith, his successor as prophet was the practical, able Brigham Young. Of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young said:
“When I first heard him preach, he brought heaven and earth together; and all the priests of the day could not tell me anything correct about heaven, hell, God, angels, or devils; they were as blind as Egyptian darkness. When I saw Joseph Smith, he took heaven, figuratively speaking, and brought it down to earth; and he took the earth, brought it up, and opened up, in plainness and simplicity, the things of God; and that is the beauty of his mission.” (Discourses of Brigham Young, sel. John A. Widtsoe, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1954, p. 458.)

Participate in worthy community projects, including compassionate and other volunteer services. Often our own problems seem to diminish when we become aware of the challenges faced by others. When my wife was volunteering as a pink lady at one of our local hospitals, she noticed that some of the doctors in the area would encourage their patients who were depressed, sad, or emotionally ill to join the volunteer organization. That prescription often worked better than medicine to build self-image and restore health to those who found joy in helping others.

My little brother and sister, Michael and Abbie, are a handful. You just can’t get them to sit still. I should know—I’ve tried. Mom says I’m old enough to watch them when she goes out for errands. I’m glad Mom thinks I’m responsible, but I’m not sure I want to watch them on my own.
So today, when Mom went to the store and put me in charge, I was ready. I decided that in order to watch Michael and Abbie, I would need to get them to behave, and I knew just the way to do it.
“Who wants to play a game?” I asked.
They jumped up and down. “Ooh! Me! Me!”
“It’s a game I just invented. It’s called Baby Caterpillar. Do you want to pretend to be baby caterpillars?”
“Yes!” Michael yelled.
“Yay!” Abbie shouted.
I grinned. My brother and sister can never quietly agree to anything.
“To play this game, I need both of you to get a blanket,” I said.
They both ran to their bedrooms as fast as they could and brought back two blankets.
“OK, now just watch.”
They stood quietly and watched, which was a first for them.
First I laid down both blankets and had Abbie lie right in the middle of one and Michael in the middle of the other. Then I wrapped them each in a blanket cocoon up to their chins.
“Ta da!” I said. “You are now baby caterpillars!”
“Yay!” they shouted.
They wiggled around for a bit, and after a while they started talking to each other in their “caterpillar language.” Their smiling faces peeked over their blankets. I sat on the couch with a good book while they chattered to each other.
When I looked at my brother and sister, nestled in their little cocoons, I realized they weren’t so bad after all. In fact, now that I was spending time with them, I kind of liked them. I thought about how much fun we could have playing a board game together after they were done being baby caterpillars. I put my book down and started to think of other games we could all play the next time Mom left me in charge.

As I pondered my family’s current lack of support, I remembered that miracle of peace I’d felt before I was baptized. I recalled that all things are possible to Heavenly Father (see Matthew 19:26) and that as I turn to Him in faith through fasting and prayer, He can make seemingly impossible things possible through faith in Christ.
As we learn in Helaman 3:35, “Nevertheless they did fast and pray oft, and did wax stronger and stronger in their humility, and firmer and firmer in the faith of Christ, unto the filling their souls with joy and consolation.”
I wanted to deepen my trust in Heavenly Father, fill my heart with joy, and do what I could to soften the hearts of those who didn’t support me. So I consistently fasted and prayed for relief from the loneliness I was facing.
Nothing changed immediately. I was told that I was causing challenges in our family because of my Church membership. I felt so alone. But I trusted that Heavenly Father was listening to my prayers and that my fasting would bring blessings. Eventually, I saw a miracle—my parents’ hearts gradually softened toward the gospel.
I also felt my faith in Heavenly Father and my Savior become empowered. My stronger faith helped me know how to respond to others when they were unkind and how to deepen my relationship with loved ones and with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
After a lot of fasting and prayer, I received the answer to serve a mission. Miraculously, my parents ended up getting baptized before I left to serve, and I was also able to be sealed to them in the Manila Philippines Temple a few months before I finished my service.

Several times during the trip, the pioneers talked with mountain men. Jim Bridger discouraged them from moving all the Saints to the Salt Lake Valley until they knew if grain could be grown there. He was so convinced that grain could not be grown that he offered (US) $1,000 for their first bushel of corn. But God was leading the Saints. President Young told Bridger, “Wait a little, and we will show you.”

1. Show GAK 517 (Spencer W. Kimball), and explain that when President Kimball was called to be an Apostle he turned to the scriptures for comfort and support. Recount President Kimball’s experience from “Gospel Classics: The Breaking of the Day Has Found Me on My Knees” (Ensign, Feb. 2004, 50–53). In the section “Comfort in the Scriptures,” President Kimball says that 1 Nephi 3:7 gave him comfort. Have the children look up the scripture and read the words of Nephi. Sing “Nephi’s Courage” (pp. 120–21).

In addition to my parents and teachers, I can think of many Church leaders who are or have been Good Samaritans. A former bishop of mine, Les Goates, and a stake mission president I served with, Franklin D. Richards, are two such leaders who exemplified the traits of the Good Samaritan. Bishop Goates impressed me with his outstanding leadership ability. His example was one of unconditional love for the people he worked with and served. He knew that unselfish giving was the way to reach people and touch their hearts.
A number of years ago I was called to be a counselor to Elder Richards in a stake mission presidency in the Salt Lake East Mill Creek Stake. During that time Elder Richards was particularly instrumental in helping me to better learn the gospel and to see the importance of scripture study. He also helped me to realize what a great opportunity it is to serve.

But the experience I think about most frequently is my adoption.
When I was a baby, I lived in an orphanage in Cambodia. I got very sick with pneumonia, and the orphanage couldn’t afford my medical care.
At the same time, my future mother was visiting Cambodia from Finland for a work trip. She had a spiritual experience that guided her to visit my specific orphanage.
When we met, she felt an instant spiritual connection to me.
She took me to the hospital and paid for my medical expenses. She felt that she had been guided to Cambodia to help me get better—nothing more. But over the phone one night, her dad said to her, “Maybe this little girl is supposed to stay in your life.”
She prayed and felt her own spiritual confirmation that I was meant to be her child. So she started the adoption process. It took a long time, but eventually she returned home to Finland with me.
Whenever I’m feeling unsure if Heavenly Father is aware of me, pondering my unique origin story and the miracles involved always reminds me of this truth: He is intimately aware of and involved in my life.
My experience as a child reassures me that even among His billions of children, Heavenly Father knew me—a tiny child in an orphanage—and provided the inspiration that connected me to the gospel and to my family.

“Lowell, can you stay a few minutes after class? I’d like to talk to you,” Mr. Taylor, my tenth-grade history teacher, asked. He addressed me directly, which drew the attention of the other students, something I didn’t want, but I answered with a reluctant nod that I would stay.
My schoolwork had suffered in the past few weeks. My sense of self-worth had practically disappeared, and I had developed an inferiority complex. I had a bad case of acne and had become self-conscious because of the blemishes on my face. There was no way I could hide them. I imagined everyone was looking at me and saying, “Look at that ugly, pimple-faced kid.” I didn’t feel there was any place for me, in or out of school.
I tried not to associate with anyone. What did it matter if I didn’t get good grades in school or participate in the sports I used to enjoy? Even my church duties became unimportant.
I felt especially bad about letting my grades drop off in history because I liked Mr. Taylor. He wasn’t a trained philosopher or psychologist, just a good teacher who was genuinely concerned about his students.
I stayed in my seat when the others left the classroom. Mr. Taylor came and sat in a desk opposite me.
“Lowell, your schoolwork has fallen off lately. You have gone from a B student to a D. But I don’t care about that as much as I care about what’s happening to you.” He paused, waiting to hear a comment from me, then continued.
“Maybe we could find a solution to get you back on track. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you,” he said.
“Mr. Taylor, you see this acne on my face. I want to stay away from people. I don’t want anyone to see me. I really want to do as well as I can in school, but I don’t want to draw attention to my looks.” I stopped and waited for Mr. Taylor to speak.
“Do you think Coach Forsberg would say, ‘That kid has pimples, so he can’t play for me.’ No. If you can’t play for Coach Forsberg, it will be because you don’t put forth the effort. Do you think Coach Worthington is not going to let you high jump because your face doesn’t look just right? He doesn’t care if your nose is in the back of your head, as long as you are a good high jumper and can help the team,” said Mr. Taylor.
“Do you think if you work hard in my class and earn an A or a B, I’m going to say, ‘That kid has acne, so I’ll give him a D?’ Absolutely not, nor will any of your other teachers,” Mr. Taylor finished.
I gave what he told me a lot of thought. With my present self-conscious attitude, I wasn’t realizing any of my goals. I left the classroom with a determination to raise my head a little higher and test out his ideas.
I wasn’t a great football hero, but I made the team. I high jumped in track, and my grades improved. I even did my church duties again. I wasn’t a loner anymore. I had friends.
I was still conscious of my appearance, but I wasn’t letting it rule my life.
“Let what’s on the inside outshine what’s on the outside, and you’ll come out a winner,” Mr. Taylor used to say.
Thanks, Mr. Taylor.

I’m a convert, and the temptations were strong for me because I had different customs from those of the Church. Little by little, I began to understand that the communication I had with my Heavenly Father strengthened me and made it easier for me to overcome everything.
Pamela S., age 19, Llanquihue Province, Chile

When I was a young man, my wife would ask me to come and help her with the dishes, with making the beds, or with other household chores. Now, at this time in our lives, I ask her to come and help me wash the dishes, make the beds, and perform other household chores. The important thing is to work together and help each other.

In the meantime, they prayed constantly. And their answer came in a dream.

One night when Pedrito was almost ten months old, Nancy dreamed that she saw through her kitchen window—instead of the usual array of crowded buildings—a beautiful, spacious lawn extending as far as she could see. In the distance a man was digging in the earth. She approached him and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m planting herbs to cure the illnesses of man,” he replied.

Then Nancy saw an unusual tree nearby. “What is the purpose of that tree?” she asked.

“The tree holds the cure for Pedrito’s illness,” replied the stranger.

“Tell me,” she asked eagerly, “how can I give the tree’s medicine to my child?”

Before the stranger could answer, Nancy saw a man in the distance, standing at the window of a house, looking at her. Immediately he and another man, both dressed in white, left the house and approached her.

Frightened, Nancy ran trembling into her own house and bolted the door. They came to her barred window, looked in at her, and asked, “Why are you afraid?”

“Because—because I’m here alone with my sick child.”

“But do you not know that bolted doors and barred windows cannot keep us out?” they asked kindly. “We were sent by God to help you because of your faith and your diligence in studying the Bible and seeking the word of God.”

Instantly they were inside the house, and Nancy woke up.

The dream remained vivid in Nancy’s thoughts, yet she told no one.