Gospel Story Finder

In Nauvoo, Illinois, in 1843, the Prophet saw a young boy, Jesse N. Smith, walk by his home. He called the boy to his side and asked him what book he was reading in school. When Jesse replied, “The Book of Mormon,” Joseph was very happy and took him into the house and gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon for his very own. The boy treasured that gift the rest of his life.

These activities culminated in a big event during Interfaith Week in November 2019. (The organisation of this was personally stressful, due to the chair having resigned just three weeks earlier.) The choir sang at our chapel in Cardiff at the end of a wonderful torchlit walk between three other places of worship, supported by around 150 people of different faiths and including an MP, a Welsh Assembly member and its deputy minister. I had spent a lot of time praying for the success of the event and was powerfully reminded that this was His Church and work, and not mine—and I should not worry quite as much.

President Thomas S. Monson tells of a Robert Blatchford who, 100 years ago “in his book God and My Neighbor, attacked with vigor accepted Christian beliefs, such as God, Christ, prayer, and immortality. He boldly asserted, ‘I claim to have proved everything I set out to prove so fully and decisively that no Christian, however great or able he may be, can answer my arguments or shake my case.’ He surrounded himself with a wall of skepticism. Then a surprising thing happened. His wall suddenly crumbled to dust. … Slowly he began to feel his way back to the faith he had scorned and ridiculed. What had caused this profound change in his outlook? His wife [had] died. With a broken heart, he went into the room where lay all that was mortal of her. He looked again at the face he loved so well. Coming out, he said to a friend: ‘It is she, and yet it is not she. Everything is changed. Something that was there before is taken away. She is not the same. What can be gone if it be not the soul?’”

Many years ago, I got a phone call from a good friend who had been hired to play Santa Claus at a local mall. He wasn’t the real Santa Claus but was just one of his helpers. He explained that he needed someone to take his shift. He asked if I would substitute for him for just one night. I have to admit that this job was perfect for me. I always enjoy making children smile, so I gladly agreed.
The evening arrived, and I soon found myself in a small back room at the Eastview Mall. I changed into that familiar red suit, those polished black boots, and that white beard. I needed quite a bit of extra padding to make everything fit. But with a little effort, the Santa makeover was complete.
As I walked through the mall to get to my place, I was delighted to see how excited the young children were to see Santa. Even adults couldn’t help but smile and wave.
Once I sat down, the gate to the workshop opened. A long line of parents and children kept coming in. All but the very shyest children climbed up on my knee, and I listened patiently while they told me their Christmas wishes.
I was having a terrific time. It was great to interact with all the young children who looked at Santa with such wide-eyed wonder. I am proud to say that I really played up the role. I perfected my “Ho, ho, ho!” and even managed a laugh or two that made my belly shake like a bowl full of jelly.
A woman brought a small boy to me. “Excuse me,” she said. “He just wanted to come and say hello.”
I invited him to sit on my lap, but she declined, explaining that he didn’t speak English.
“He’s from Belgium,” she said. “He speaks French.”
My first reaction was, “Oh, this is going to be fun!” Nine years earlier, I had served a French-speaking mission in Quebec, Canada. Although I was no longer fluent in French, I could still have a conversation with a four-year-old. So I turned to the boy and, in French, invited him to come sit with me. The woman’s eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped, but the boy beamed and jumped onto my lap!
After several delightful minutes, it was time to say goodbye because the line had steadily grown while we were talking. Still, I congratulated myself on what felt like a real Christmas miracle—just like the one in Miracle on 34th Street.
But then I did something out of character for Santa. I felt impressed to tell the boy, “Always remember that Santa loves you.” I recall instantly thinking, “What a strange thing for Santa to say!” But the boy hugged me. And then he smiled and waved and ran back to the woman.
She led him a few steps away and then stopped. She asked him to wait there and turned back to me. “I don’t know what just happened,” she told me with tears in her eyes. “But I need to tell you something.”
She explained that she was the little boy’s aunt. She had returned with him from Belgium only a few days earlier. “His mother and father were killed in a car crash,” she said. “I’m his only living relative. I have just brought him to the United States to live with me.”
Her tears began to fall more freely. “But it’s Christmas, and I simply had no idea how we were going to make it through this season. It’s supposed to be joyful and magical, but all I could feel was sorrow. I kept praying, ‘God, help us both get through this.’”
She decided to bring him to the mall. “I know it seems silly,” she continued, “but I thought that if we walked around and just looked at the stores and the holiday decorations, it would at least give us a little distraction.”
“But my nephew saw you and said that he had to come see you. I told him, ‘No, honey, Santa won’t be able to understand you.’ But he said, ‘Yes, he will. I need to talk to him.’ And he literally pulled me to you.”
She looked at me again and said, “I don’t know how this happened, but thank you.”
I had been enjoying playing the coolest Santa ever. But in that instant, I knew that my being at the mall that evening was not about me at all. Instead, it was about one child who needed his own Christmas miracle.
I have no idea how many children climbed onto Santa’s lap for the rest of that night. But I’m sure their loved ones were wondering why Santa seemed to be crying!
Every Christmas, I still think about that boy. I wonder if he even remembers that night he met me and brought tears to my eyes. I’ll never forget how God led me to be just where He needed me to be one winter’s night to bless one of His precious children.
That experience continues to be a strong reminder to me that God knows and loves each of us. He knows our desires—even those expressed through the pure faith of a small child who simply wanted to talk with Santa.

Brother and Sister Alip are grateful for the ways Heavenly Father has blessed them to have what they need to continue serving others. When they first came to Kona, Brother Alip says, “We had no place to stay except for a small shack in the hills built for a worker in the coffee fields.” They lived there for months until they were able to rent a small cottage.
A number of years later, they had enough savings and income to consider a nicer home, but nothing they looked at felt right to them. One day while Brother Alip was working on the Kona temple grounds, an elderly sister came by. She was crying. Brother Alip shakes his head. “She was being evicted from her home and had no place to go. For some reason, I told her to go visit her grandchildren, and when she returned, she could move in with us.” The problem was, the Alips’ home was big enough for only Brother and Sister Alip. So they started praying—and looking earnestly for ways to obtain the blessing they sought.
Shortly, a real-estate agent invited them to consider a two-story home with six bedrooms. They loved it, but they assumed the house would cost more than they could afford. Reluctantly, they turned the offer down.
But a way opened up. Within a few weeks, the price of the home dropped, and the Alips learned they had sufficient credit to buy the house. As a result, the sister in need had a place with Brother and Sister Alip when she returned to Kona, and three of the Alips’ children, in need themselves, found a home for their families at the house.
“The Lord has taken good care of us,” Brother Alip says. “When we show that we are willing to sacrifice our time, talents, and means for Him, He showers us with His tender mercies.”

At the solemn assembly during general conference when President Hinckley was sustained as the prophet by the Church membership, all the grandchildren stood at the appropriate times and raised their hands to sustain the new prophet.

“It was an amazing experience,” says Ada Hinckley, 16, “to raise your hand to the square and sustain the prophet, the President of the Church, who is also your grandpa. When they sing, ‘We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,’ you are just kind of taken aback because they are singing about your grandfather.”

But Ada found that the very thing that helped a lot of young women in the Church also helped her gain a testimony of the prophet. She attended the general Young Women meeting before April conference where the theme was gaining a testimony of the prophet. “It helped me a lot to gain a testimony that he is a prophet and that he leads the Church. I know he does.”

The gift of the Holy Ghost is so important to our faith that a prophet gave it unique emphasis in a conversation with the president of the United States. Joseph Smith had journeyed to Washington to seek help in recovering compensation for injuries and losses the Saints had suffered in the Missouri persecutions. In his meeting with the president, Joseph was asked how this Church differed from the other religions of the day. The Prophet replied that “we differed in mode of baptism, and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands” (History of the Church, 4:42). He later explained that this answer was given because “all other considerations were contained in the gift of the Holy Ghost” (History of the Church, 4:42).

Over the course of a semester in college, as I sat in a small lecture hall learning about religions around the world, I always found something relatable to my personal journey as a disciple of Jesus Christ, be it a ritual, a guiding principle, or a verse of sacred text.
The biggest takeaway I gained from the class was the knowledge that God inspires His children everywhere. I love what Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said:
“We honor and respect sincere souls from all religions, no matter where or when they lived, who have loved God, even without having the fulness of the gospel. … We embrace them as brothers and sisters, children of our Heavenly Father. …
“He hears the prayers of the humble and sincere of every nation, tongue, and people. He grants light to those who seek and honor Him and are willing to obey His commandments.”1

Isabel said of the experience from her point of view, “It is a great blessing to know the truth of the gospel of our Father in Heaven. We children, my parents, and the whole family have changed greatly. Before we joined the Church we were almost destroyed as a family. Since we joined the Church, all that has changed. We are more united than before. Being the oldest of the children, I can see that there is more love and tenderness in our family. I want to bear my testimony that I know this church is true and the Book of Mormon too, and that there are prophets today. I am very happy that I know Mary Carmen and her mother. They are very good people, very good friends. I love them very much. Mary Carmen is another sister to me.”

Let me give you an example. The present Gospel Doctrine Teacher’s Supplement, which was prepared to help teachers teach the New Testament, was written by a committee of faithful and knowledgeable Church-service writers, who were called and set apart for that service by one of the General Authorities. Their work commenced in the spring of 1980, following General Authority approval of the outline. Writing committee members spent thousands of hours researching, writing, and attending biweekly committee meetings, where the entire committee critiqued each lesson carefully and suggested improvements. The work of the writing committee then was reviewed by General Authority Managing Directors of the Priesthood and Curriculum departments, the General Presidency and the General Board of the Sunday School, Church Editing, and Church Correlation Review. This manual received careful scrutiny at many levels before it was approved for use in Sunday School this year. All teaching materials for the Church follow this same basic procedure in their preparation.

Looking around at the girls, the stake camp director was able to point out some real success stories. One junior counselor had been reactivated into the Church because of camp. She had been so shy that she wouldn’t participate in most Church activities. But as she learned the camping and leadership skills taught in the Campcrafter program, she gained the confidence and know-how to be a junior counselor in charge of teaching skills classes and conducting camp activities. She started attending her other Church meetings as well.

President Hinckley was called by President David O. McKay to find a way to hasten the work of redemption of the dead. The films which now guide us through the endowment sessions in the temple were the result. And, beginning with the dedication of the Swiss Temple, where this system of instruction was introduced, he has participated in the dedication or rededication of thirty-one temples. In recent years, when both President Kimball and President Romney have been unable to travel, Brother Hinckley has been assigned the sacred duty of presiding at the dedication of eighteen temples and pronouncing the dedicatory prayers.

Farmington Utah South Stake
The activity day girls of the Farmington Utah South Stake participated in a day camp where they learned about President Hinckley’s nine “B’s” and worked on their Faith in God goals. They rotated through classes where they sewed a pillow, made thank-you cards, learned how to play volleyball, learned about keeping their bodies clean inside and out, and learned how to be a positive influence in their families. They discussed the importance of being humble and prayerful and sang a song about the nine “B’s.”

I remember once in 1957, while I was acting as a new president of a branch in Argentina, I decided to interview the members with respect to the importance of paying tithing. I found myself talking with one good brother of the branch whose name was Jose, who had difficulty paying his tithing. I asked him bluntly, “Brother Jose, why don’t you pay your tithing?” I’m sure Jose didn’t expect me to be so direct.
After a moment of silence he responded: “As you know, President, I have two children. The wage of a laborer is very low. This month I have to buy my children shoes to go to school; and, mathematically, I just don’t have enough money.”
In an instant response, I said, “Jose, I promise you that if you pay your tithing faithfully, your children will have their shoes to go to school, and you will be able to pay for all the needs of your home. I don’t know how he will do it, but the Lord always keeps his promises. Besides that,” I added, “If you still find that you don’t have enough money, I will give you back what you paid in tithing from my own pocket.”
On the way home, I wondered if what I had done was the right thing. Here I was, recently married, just getting started in my career, and faced with my own economic problems. I began to worry about my own shoes, let alone those of Jose’s family! Even though when I got home my dear wife wholeheartedly supported me and reassured me that everything would be all right, I must say that that night nobody prayed harder for Brother Jose’s economic welfare than I did.
One month later, I once again sat down with Jose. Though the tears in his eyes almost made it impossible for him to speak, he said: “President, it is incredible. I paid my tithing; I was able to meet all of my obligations, and I even purchased the new shoes for my children, all without an increase in my wage. I know that the Lord keeps his promises!”
Jose remains to this day a faithful tithe payer.

The week after Christmas, my mom and dad talked to me about fasting for the first time. My dad explained that we fast to ask Heavenly Father for extra help or to tell Him that we are extra grateful. I decided to fast for my baby brother to feel better because he was teething and didn’t feel very good.
The night before fast Sunday, my dad helped me start my fast. At first I was nervous, but he helped me know what to say when I prayed. My dad said to pay attention to how I felt throughout my fast. I felt really good before I went to bed.
The next morning, I started getting hungry. But I had promised not to eat, so I kept my promise the best I could. I tried really hard not to complain. And I did activities to help me learn about Jesus so I wouldn’t just think about food. My dad fasted with me, and that helped a lot.
Later, I was really hungry and needed to end my fast earlier than I planned. I felt sad, but my parents said Heavenly Father just wants us to try. I know He loves us and is happy when I try.

Having been born in Hawaii, I enjoy reading the history of those islands and their people. One of the things that I find most intriguing about the ancient Hawaiian men and their form of battle was the method used in training for spear warfare.
The Hawaiian warriors used, among other weapons, a long spear made from very hard wood. They did not have metal from which to make tips, but otherwise they were about the size and weight of the javelin used in modern track-and-field events. As preparatory exercises for war, the men would engage in sham battles. Now while a sham battle was, as the name implies, a mock combat, it could become training of a very deadly sort. After dividing the warriors into two groups, arrayed on opposite sides of an open meadow, the sham battle began with each group hurling their spears at each other. The object of the game was not just to keep from getting killed, but rather, after having hurled one’s spear at the “enemy,” to catch the incoming spears bare-handed and throw them back as well. For, you see, once you had thrown your spear you were unarmed. You rearmed yourself by catching those coming toward you.
You can well imagine the scene that such a melee would produce. King Kamehameha was observed in one such battle to catch three spears in his right hand, fend off a fourth with the spear in his left hand and dodge a fifth, all in one continuous motion.

Elliott was excited to be in second grade. He had a new box of crayons and a new friend named George. Last year Elliott had felt lonely at recess. But then George moved in. Now the two boys played together every day. They liked pretending to be secret agents. But today they were playing soccer.
“Hey, kick the ball to me!” George yelled. Elliott kicked the soccer ball as hard as he could. Then George kicked the ball right into the net. “Score!” Elliott shouted.
Everything was great. But then Oni showed up.
Oni and his family had to move from another country to escape danger. He was pretty quiet and didn’t have many friends. Now he sat down at the edge of the grass and just watched.
The other boys didn’t like Oni following them around. “Oni is the enemy,” one of the boys shouted. “Let’s go play on the slide.”
Elliott got a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew it wasn’t right to run away from Oni. But if he stood up for Oni, maybe the other boys wouldn’t want to play with him either. Maybe George wouldn’t.
Elliott thought about what he should do. He remembered how lonely he’d felt last year and how hard he’d prayed for friends. Maybe Oni was feeling that way now. Elliott thought about how Jesus helped people others didn’t like. Elliott wanted to choose the right.
After school, Elliott told Mom all about his problem. “That does sound tough,” Mom said. “Have you prayed to ask Heavenly Father for help?”
“How could He help?” Elliott asked.
“Well, maybe He’ll help us come up with a good solution,” Mom said. “It’s always good to have Heavenly Father on your team.”
Elliott and Mom bowed their heads as Elliott said a prayer. Then he and Mom talked about some ideas for solving the problem.
The next morning Mom took Elliott to school early. They wanted to tell their ideas to Elliott’s teacher. Mrs. Williams really liked their ideas, especially one.
Later on, just before recess, Mrs. Williams asked Elliott and a few of the other boys to come up to her desk. “Boys,” she said, “I have a special assignment, and I know I can trust you with it.” The boys looked up at their teacher.
“I know a boy in the other class who could really use a friend. His name is Oni.” Some of the boys looked down at the floor.
“Now, I don’t want just any friend for Oni,” Mrs. Williams continued. “He needs some really good friends, which is why I thought of you boys. Can you boys find Oni at recess and help him feel included, and then come back and tell me how it went?” The boys stood up a little straighter. Elliott and George smiled at each other. They were on the case!
When Mom picked Elliott up from school, she asked him how the day went. “It was great, Mom!” Elliott said. “Oni was so surprised that we all wanted to play with him. He had a big smile on his face all recess!”
“You know, Elliott,” Mom said, “maybe Oni has been praying for a friend, just like you did last year. Maybe you are the answer to his prayers.”
Elliott felt good to know that Heavenly Father had helped Oni. And now Elliott had another new friend too. Mission accomplished!
Go to Family Night Fun for an activity to go with this story.

But despite the challenges, the youth are growing in unity, not just as a ward youth group but as citizens of the world. This was brought home forcibly to the young women when they participated in an activity that was conducted worldwide. They tied their written testimonies to balloons and released them into the Italian skies.
“I thought of all my friends in Arizona,” Donna said, “and I felt close to them, even though we are far away.”

I recently saw a photo of a very unusual building. In front of the building, there was a large tree that had clearly been growing for much longer than the building had existed. On the side of the building, there were two levels of balconies with holes cut in them to allow the tree branches to go through. The tree continued to grow next to the building, with its trunk growing right through a hole in the roof.
Let’s talk about this pretty building and the tree that continued to grow right through it. The architect could have said that the tree was in the way—“It’s preventing the project I want to carry out.” Or the owner of the building could have said, “But I have money—just cut down this tree so that there is space to build the building.” But they didn’t. Instead, they chose to adjust their building design to accommodate the existing tree.
As this building and the tree illustrate, we can choose to respect the principles of the gospel that existed before us, just as the architect of the building chose to respect the nature that existed before him. We do this by adapting our lives to the gospel of Jesus Christ and not the other way around, which could lead us to painful consequences, like Uzzah so unfortunately experienced.

One Sunday morning in early spring, nine-year-old Emily sat with her family in sacrament meeting. The bishop looked sad as he got up to make the announcements.
“The Schwartz family found out this week that Brother Schwartz has cancer,” the bishop said.
Emily saw that both her parents had tears in their eyes. Emily knew that cancer was a serious illness. She was sad for the Schwartz family too.
After church Emily was reading in the living room when she heard her parents talking about Brother Schwartz’s illness.
“He’s so young,” Mom said.
“I know.” Dad spoke softly. “His medicine and treatment will cost a lot of money. I wish there was something we could do to help.”
Emily looked out the window. The spring rains had made the neighborhood beautiful and green. The grass and flowers were growing fast. Seeing the yards all along the street gave Emily an idea. She ran to the kitchen to tell her parents.
“I want to help Brother Schwartz!” Emily said with a smile.
“What do you want to do, honey?” Mom asked.
Emily pointed out the window. “I want to mow our neighbors’ lawns and give the money to the Schwartzes.”
Dad smiled. “That’s a great idea, Em.”
That week Emily talked to lots of neighbors about mowing their lawns. By Saturday she had a full day of grass cutting lined up.
On Saturday, Emily pushed the mower up and down the yards in her neighborhood. All day. As she mowed, her arms and legs seemed to get heavier and heavier. But she was determined to keep going. She wanted to finish all the lawns.
It’s for Brother Schwartz, she kept telling herself. Her arms were sore from pushing, and her legs were tired and wobbly. But she kept mowing—only a few more lawns to go.
It was time for dinner when Emily finally finished. She walked home slowly. I’ve never been so tired in my whole life! she thought.
After dinner Emily walked to Brother Schwartz’s house. She was excited as she rang the doorbell.
Sister Schwartz opened the door.
“Hi, Sister Schwartz,” Emily said. “I mowed a bunch of lawns in the neighborhood and wanted to give you the money to help your family.”
Emily handed an envelope stuffed with money to Sister Schwartz.
Sister Schwartz started to cry. “Thank you, Emily,” she said.
“You’re welcome! I hope Brother Schwartz gets better.” Emily turned with a big smile and headed home.
She was tired from her hard work, but she felt warm and happy because she knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus are happy when we help others. And now she just couldn’t stop grinning.