Gospel Story Finder

The beautiful limestone temple was a dramatic sight, standing on the brow of a hill, its tower rising 48.2 meters. But the beauty was not to last. In 1848 an arsonist started a fire that destroyed the interior, and two years later a tornado knocked down three of the walls. The remaining wall was purposely leveled in 1856 because of the danger of its falling.

Howard exemplified the words, “Don’t wait to be a great man; be a great boy.” Howard accomplished things, not to be noticed by the world, but to better himself. He completed all the requirements for his Eagle Scout Award yet never bothered to turn in the necessary papers. The recognition just wasn’t important to him.

Thank you for printing the article “Be Prayerful” (April 2002). I hadn’t been praying correctly, but after I read this article, I fell on my knees and communed with my Heavenly Father. I felt that I got this prayer thing correct. Thank you especially for the “Righteous desires of the heart” part of the article.Julie ChristiansenIdaho Falls, Idaho

The story is told that toward the end of World War II an allied general came to the front lines one night to inspect his troops. As he walked along he would point out into no-man’s-land and say “Can you see them? Can you see them?”

Finally, someone said, “General, we can see nothing. What do you mean?” He said, “Can’t you see them? They’re your buddies; they are the ones who gave their lives today, yesterday, and the day before. They’re out there alright, watching you, wondering what you are going to do; wondering if they have died in vain.”

For example, one segment shares Sister Pond’s approaches to dealing with a disruptive student. Sister Pond learns that teaching Primary means becoming an example to the children as well as teaching lessons. Viewers watch as Sister Pond obeys promptings from the Spirit to enhance preparation for her lesson and prayers for her students. The online training pauses several times to ask viewers how they would respond in Sister Pond’s situation.

May I bear humble testimony to that fact? I was once in a situation where I needed help. The Lord knew I needed help, as I was on an important mission. I was awakened in the early hours of the morning and was corrected on something that I had planned to do in a contrary way, and the way was clearly defined before me as I lay there that morning, just as surely as though someone had sat on the edge of my bed and told me what to do.

If it seems unusual to use the word practice in this way, consider this: In a reverent setting, a father might help his children prepare for the ordinance of baptism by showing them how they will stand together in the water and by sharing the words of the baptismal prayer. He doesn’t perform the ordinance in that setting. In a sense, he helps his children practice. That way, they will not worry about what will happen when they enter the waters of baptism. I believe that mothers and fathers can also help children practice making and keeping the baptismal covenant. Each sacrament meeting can be a sacred practice session for little children as they partake of the emblems of the Savior’s Atonement.

After serving as a full-time missionary, I came home and was fortunate to find the Church’s inspired Perpetual Education Fund program which allowed me to achieve my goals in completing my law studies through this program instituted by President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008).
Today, I am a lawyer. My wife, Mireille, and I are parents of four children: Ross Power Kongo Kongo, Ron Cross Kongo Munemeka, Blacke Prestones Kongo Ibula, and Brian Lesser Congo. I accepted adversity by relying on my faith without knowing what was going to happen to me when I was abandoned for having chosen the restored Church.

Another Tabernacle organist was Alexander Schreiner. He became famous all over the world for his organ playing. He played his first recital on the Tabernacle organ when he was a teenager, and he wrote music for many Primary songs, including “Jesus Is Our Loving Friend” (Children’s Songbook, page 58).

I had the good fortune of having good friends when I got home from my mission. A friend I had met in the missionary training center introduced me to the woman who would later become my wife. I’ve never discounted the fact that your friends often determine your success or failure in life. Your friends and mentors can help you make decisions that will lead you either closer to or farther from God.

I recently moved from West Reading, Pennsylvania, to Tustin, California, to live with my sister, and even though I love her very much, it gets lonely without my parents. So I considered it an answer to my prayers when I received five back issues of the New Era in the mail and finished reading all five in five hours. It is truly an inspiring and testimony-building magazine. I especially enjoyed “The Way to a Missionary’s Mailbox,” “Gena, My Challenge,” and “What’s a Brother For?” in the December issue and “No Greater Honor: The Woman’s Role” in the January issue. I always find myself rereading all the articles and find pleasure in Feedback most of all. The Mormonisms are always good too. If some readers are reading only parts of the New Era, I hope they will take the time to read it all the way through for more spiritual food.
Donna Marie DestasloTustin, California

We went on a boat. A money machine there was stuck. A woman said, “Why did the machine give me one euro (about 88¢) when I was supposed to get 20 marks (about $2.96)?” A man told her to look for the code on the left, but the woman couldn’t find it.
I looked for it and found it. The woman didn’t tell me thank you. I thought, “What a silly woman!” But then I thought about what I was thinking and was sorry. I prayed and said, “Heavenly Father, I am sorry for what I was thinking, so I am apologizing. I am very, very sorry about it.”

I received a lovely surprise today. When I came out of Relief Society, a brown envelope containing the New Era was handed to me. I asked who it was from and was told that it was a secret. But I have a very sneaky suspicion that it was from the elder who recently baptized me. He had given me two New Eras before he left, obviously knowing how much I enjoyed them. It is a truly wonderful gift!
Gwen NapierSalisbury, Rhodesia

One summer when I was 16, I remember sitting down and writing in my journal all the qualities I wanted in a future husband—testimony, good looks, sense of humor, money, education. I thought these were all good qualities. But when my oldest daughter, Becky, was 16, she came to me and asked, “What is the most important quality to look for in a husband?” By then I had been married for many years. I knew the answer to that question. I believe the most important quality we can possess is integrity. How I love the value of integrity!

If you can imagine this situation, you can understand a little of what Gina Paulino, of the Hingham Massachusetts Stake, went through before joining the Church.
Years before she was taught the gospel, 11-year-old Gina told her mother she believed that “there has to be just one church that is Jesus Christ’s. All these churches can’t be true, because they all teach different things.”
And she believed that “there must be an existence in heaven before we came here.”
And that “there must be different levels in heaven because not everyone has the same amount of goodness.”
And that “people who have died and weren’t able to hear the gospel message—someone must be able to stand in for them so they can be baptized.”
Young Gina believed all these truths before she had read the Book of Mormon or met with the missionaries or even attended a Latter-day Saint meeting. Gina’s mother had learned a little about the gospel more than 20 years ago from her sister. But Gina’s mother didn’t join the Church then because her husband wasn’t ready to do so. So when Gina told her mother about these beliefs, her mom would cry and say, “You’re right. There is a church that believes that.”
Gina’s mother was baptized in 1998, when Gina was 13. Gina knew then the Church is true, but her dad wanted her to wait until she was 18 to be baptized.
At age 15, Gina asked her dad again if she could join the Church. They talked for several hours. She told him how much she wanted to get baptized and that she knew the Church is true. He agreed to let her attend church and Young Women. At that time, only two other teenage girls attended Gina’s branch.
Seven months later, Gina’s father said she could be baptized.
With that good news, Gina began taking the discussions, which were held at the meetinghouse. Gina’s mother was there, as were a couple of other members of the branch. Gina’s talks with her mother in the past few years had given Gina a basic understanding of the gospel, but the missionary lessons strengthened her testimony of the Atonement and taught her the importance of baptismal covenants. She learned to abide by Church standards like dressing modestly to show respect for her body.

I have always loved horses. I grew up riding them. My family owned a dairy ranch where we had a few horses. When I was seven years old we moved to the city. Because we didn’t have horses there, I rode them whenever I had the chance.
When I was young, my father would take me to church. He and I were the only ones in my family who went to church. But my father died when I was just 13 years old. I continued to go to church after his death, but I didn’t have a lot of friends to go to church with, so I usually walked alone.
I was walking to church one Sunday morning soon after my father died. I passed the house of my friend whose family owned some horses. I had been riding with them before, and we had so much fun. My friend came outside to tell me that her family was about to go ride their horses and wondered if I would like to come along.
Time seemed to stand still as I tried to decide what to do. I loved riding and wanted to go with them. But I could see the church building from where I stood. As I looked at that building, a voice seemed to say to me, “Marlene, if you choose to go horseback riding this day, you will be making a wrong choice. You can go to church even if your father is not here to take you.”
I knew in my heart that going riding would not be the right choice. At that moment I said to my friend, “Thanks for the offer, but I am going to church instead.”
I have never regretted that choice. It has turned out to be one of the most significant decisions I have made in my life. It’s the good choices we make that keep us on the straight and narrow path. From that moment until this day, I can count on one hand the number of times I have missed church.
Diligent church attendance is important to me, so important that wild horses can’t keep me away. I love to associate with my ward family and find joy in serving in my calling. I am so thankful for the blessings I have received from attending my meetings and from having the gospel in my life. I am grateful to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and for the guidance of the Holy Ghost.

Cardboard replaced paper as the young artist’s favorite surface when he was nine years old. The family was reading about putting on the whole armor of God (see Eph. 6:13–17). There were cardboard boxes lying around because the Stewarts were sending packages to Sam’s brothers who were on missions. The boxes and the armor collided in Sam’s mind, and he began constructing a cardboard “shield of faith.” After he finished it, he shaped a “sword of the Spirit” out of wood.

As a young man having just finished my first year of college and needing to earn money for a desired mission, I spent the summer working at the new Jackson Lake Lodge in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
One co-worker was Jill, a young woman from San Francisco, California. Feeling that a young woman from a big city might be a little bit naive about her new environment, a few friends and I felt it our obligation to teach her about the ways of the real West. We decided to take her on a “snipe hunt.” For those of you who may not be familiar with a snipe hunt, it is a practical joke. The tools necessary for a snipe hunt are a stick and a cloth bag. The “hunter” is told to go through the brush, beating the bushes with a stick while calling the snipe in a high-pitched, ridiculous voice. The nonexistent snipes are thus to be driven into the cloth bag.
We gave Jill her cloth bag and a stick and an area to hunt across the hill. The plan was to return to our starting point in about 15 minutes, at which time we would supposedly count our snipes.
When she did not return at the appointed time, we gloated and took delight in the seriousness with which she took her hunt. After about 30 minutes, we felt it was time to rescue her, explain the joke, have a good laugh, and all go to dinner. However, it became apparent that she had taken her snipe hunt more seriously than we had expected—she was not to be found in her assigned area. After searching rather extensively and still finding no evidence of her, we began moving into the woods, calling for her at the top of our voices, but to no avail.
Hoping she might have gone back to her dormitory, we returned and asked some young women to search for her there, but this also was to no avail. It was now turning dark, and our concern heightened. We enlisted all the young men we could from the boys’ dormitory, and with flashlights continued the search deep into the woods. Well into the darkness of night—frightened, concerned, and hoarse from calling—we decided it was now time to report our ridiculous deed to the park rangers. While we were standing in front of the dorms, trying to determine which brave soul would have the privilege of reporting her disappearance, Jill suddenly appeared—not from her dormitory, but rather from that of a friend, with whom she had enjoyed dinner (which we incidentally missed) and a comfortable evening with her friends. Her first words to us as she approached said it all: “How do you fellows like hunting snipe hunters?”
The joke was on us, and I have never had a desire for any more snipe hunting.

When the Latter-day Saints first moved to the place that would become Nauvoo, it was swampy and full of mosquitoes. Many members became sick and died. Joseph and Emma took sick people into their log home and even gave up their bed. They slept outside in a tent.

When my husband, Mick, died suddenly, I was devastated. He had been a constant source of inspiration, goodness, and patience. I wondered how I could raise our five children without him.
Shauna was one of my visiting teachers at the time. Occasionally she and her husband, Jim, who was also my home teacher, would take me out to a movie or to the temple.
Fall came, and as the weather turned cold I pulled my coat out of the closet. It was about 15 years old and looked very worn. I was embarrassed to wear it on my outings with Shauna and Jim; the lining was torn, and each time Jim helped me put on the coat, my hand got caught in the lining.
As Christmas drew near, I began to feel lonely. This would be my first Christmas without Mick, and I missed him very much. I tried to act happy for the children’s sake, but it was difficult.
Just a few days before Christmas, Jim, Shauna, and their oldest daughter came to visit me. They handed me a beautifully wrapped package with a card attached. The card read: “To Cheryl. Love, Mick.” Tears began to stream down my face. Inside the box was the most beautiful coat I had ever seen. It fit perfectly. “We knew that if Mick were here, he would have bought it for you,” they said.
Whenever I wear my coat, someone always compliments me on how beautiful I look. I know it is because I am glowing—remembering the love of my home teacher, my visiting teacher, and my husband each time I put it on.