Gospel Story Finder

After graduating from high school, I felt impressed to visit all four of my grandparents. I had some free time, and I realized that I might not have this opportunity again, so I spent one week with each set of my grandparents.
I spent my time going through old boxes, reading old letters, and looking at old pictures. I recorded my grandparents’ life stories, walked around cemeteries, and visited where my grandparents and their relatives had lived and worked. It was fun! I learned so much about my ancestors, my grandparents, my parents, and myself. I realized that I wouldn’t have the life that I have if it weren’t for my ancestors.
After my trip, I came back with about 1,000 of my ancestors’ names and have been able to do the temple work for many of them. Following the promptings of the Holy Ghost and visiting with my grandparents was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
Shenley P., California, USA

Photograph courtesy of the author
After general conference a few years ago, my wife, Yenifer, and I felt that we needed to make some changes in our discipleship. We felt prompted to do more than we were doing. We didn’t just need oil in our lamps—we needed more oil.
One of the related goals I set for myself was to do more service. I decided to do family history work, including indexing.
When I started, I quickly learned that the oldest records, which are the most difficult to read and understand, are the hardest to index. But I like challenges, so I decided to start with old records.
It didn’t take long, however, before I was wondering why I was indexing difficult records when I could index more batches of names if I indexed more recent, easier-to-read records. While I was trying to read and understand some difficult marriage records, I got a headache.
“Why am I doing the hardest records?” I asked myself.
Almost immediately, I felt a soft voice say, “Thank you.”
A few seconds later, Yenifer called me on my cell phone to see how my indexing was going.
“What are you indexing now?” she asked.
“I’m doing the oldest records,” I replied.
“You know those are the most difficult ones,” she said. “Why are you doing those?”
At that moment, I again experienced a feeling of gratitude. The people whose names I was indexing had waited over a thousand years for their temple work to be done. Just as I am happy because I have received my saving ordinances in the temple, they also want to be happy by receiving theirs. Indexing names makes that possible because it helps people to search for their ancestors online. Indexing is a first step in preparing names for the temple.
I began to weep as I came to understand the eternal importance of the work I was doing. Many people have waited a long time for their temple blessings. I know that we need to help them no matter how difficult the work is.

I think we need more pillows.
And blankets! It has to be extra cozy.
There! We’ve made the perfect conference fort.
And we’ve made the perfect conference snacks!
Yay!
I can’t wait to hear the prophet!
Me too. I wonder what he’ll talk about.
OK, it’s about to start!
This is the 195th semiannual general conference …

From a very early age, I became appreciative of cultures and people. On my first day as a fourth grader in Niles, I was told that our school had religious instruction for all students. Everyone went to either the Protestant section or the Catholic section. I didn’t think I was either one, but I went with the Protestants and enjoyed singing those old hymns. Later, I had a good Jewish friend all through high school. I liked athletics and became very close friends with many black and Hispanic boys through sports.

It was in the late 1960s when I first heard about Relief Society, and I was not yet a member of the Church.
I was excited to hear about this women’s organisation, and the missionaries had arranged for one of the sisters to pick me up for the evening homemaking meeting. It seemed like a beautiful thing to go to.
I was conscious that this was the first time to meet these women. So, with an emphasis on it being a Church meeting, my apparel was important. I was brought up in Ireland, but with the Anglican tradition that you don’t go to church without a hat. I had a hat I thought would be suitable. It happened to be quite flamboyant, with its navy and pink petals—rather like a bouquet on top of your head, but pretty. I had a matching navy coat and dress. So, well-manicured, with make-up on, and in my hat and outfit (including gloves), I was ready.
At the last minute, I thought I’d better take some food, because of the charity aspect of the organisation. So, I gathered some tins and placed them in a wicker picnic basket.
When the lovely lady arrived to pick me up, she was casually dressed in jeans and a nice sweater. I can’t remember if she had a look of shock on her face when she saw me, but it still didn’t dawn on me that I was way overdressed. Only when I went into the room did I realise they were all casually dressed — and there I was looking like the Queen Mother! I never did ask them what they thought, but they were wonderful sisters, wonderfully warm.
I’ve learned to be good at laughing at myself, but it was a serious moment for me—it was perhaps my first spiritual moment. I felt their genuine warmth, and I wanted to be connected with these sisters. I truly felt the sisterhood of which we talk and read.
I am grateful for the stability of the gospel that has helped me to ride many waves in my life. And since that first meeting I have always had an affinity with my sisters in the Church.

I come from a small village in Sicily, Italy, where the lemons bloom and the boundaries between the fields are marked by green rows of prickly pears bristling with thorns bearing the sweetest of fruits. I remember with pleasure the years I spent there preparing to become a Catholic priest. After entering seminary at age ten, I completed my high school and advanced theological studies in various cities in Sicily. I was a good student and seminarian.
But my story, now told in old age, is one of sorrow as well as joy. After having spent a lifetime in anguished searching, I dedicate this brief account of my conversion to all believers of good faith, Christian or non-Christian, and especially to those who are searching for the restored Christian church.
After I was ordained a priest in 1950, my faith in the Catholic Church started to waiver. At a certain point, I thought I had lost my faith altogether. This was the first of many crises of belief to follow. However, I spoke of this to no one; I don’t know whether any of my colleagues or superiors were ever aware of my internal anguish. Externally, I continued to carry on as before: I said mass, prayed in public, and administered the sacrament regularly. My superiors conferred positions of trust upon me. Among other things, I was appointed Dean of the Seminary and became a preacher much in demand.
But I was deeply unhappy, because my old faith had collapsed inside me. I requested the opportunity to pursue further theological studies at the Pontifical University in Rome, hoping to dispel my doubts. My request was granted, and I spent four years obtaining my doctorate in the Department of Dogmatic Theology.
But instead of dispelling my doubts and strengthening my faith, the experience had the opposite effect. Thus, I returned to Sicily with another doctorate—but with a faith that was literally in pieces.
I no long viewed my situation as a passing crisis, but as a permanent reality. Deeply unhappy, I envied those uneducated believers who maintained their simple faith. Not only was I enduring the internal anguish of religious doubt, but I was also facing a moral and professional quandary: How could I remain in the service of a church whose teachings I did not believe?
When someone advised me to use caution and to prayerfully continue my studies, I enrolled in the Department of Letters and Philosophy at the state university. For four more years I analyzed my questions. But my faith only continued to deteriorate.
I could find no answers to my major problem: As a result of my historical research on my church, I was certain that an apostasy had occurred as early as the end of the first century after Christ. But how could I reconcile that fact with the never-changing nature of God? Surely, I reasoned, when God established his church, he wouldn’t have let it vanish forever after lasting only one century; it must endure eternally. But where was the solution to the apostasy? Surely there must be another Christian church that had inherited the doctrine of the true church of Christ.
After achieving yet another degree, I arrived at a crossroads. Only two possibilities existed: continue on as a priest of a church that clashed with my conscience, or leave my church and my profession in order to remain consistent with my religious convictions.
I knew very well that the first option was ethically immoral, but it certainly would be the most convenient. And I knew that the second option would create enormous difficulties. But at that point, I did not hesitate. On 25 September 1965, I gave my official and final adieu to my church and my profession.
As I expected, my decision created an enormous void around me; even close relatives ostracized me. Alone and without money, I left for northern Italy, where I began a new life. There, I quickly found a job as a teacher of letters in a technical institute in Bologna.
In my free time, I continued my research, first embarking on a study of Protestantism that left me even more disillusioned and bitter than before. Not one church seemed to possess the requirements of the true church of Jesus Christ. If the Book of Mormon had come into my hands at that time, or if someone had told me about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, perhaps my journey would have ended there.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. I went on to study other religions besides Christianity—Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism—eventually neglecting my search for the true church of Jesus Christ. Instead, I became an expert in Oriental philosophy and came to believe that perhaps one religion was as good as another. As a result of all my study, I seemed to have fallen into religious indifference.
But, thanks to the grace of the Lord, I still believed in God and in his divinity. And I never completely lost my faith in the divinity of Jesus Christ. For this reason, I continued to search for Him.
In the meantime, I had married. My wife, Ines, had been reared in a Catholic home but was not a practicing church member. We decided not to instruct our two children in any religion, leaving the choice to them.
With the passing of years, I had grown closer to Christ. I had started praying regularly and reading the Bible again. I was a Christian without a church—but still engaged in the search for the true church of Jesus Christ.
By this time I was old, past sixty. It was at this time that the good Lord took pity on me, sending me premonitions, in the form of dreams, that my chance would soon arrive.
On a clear September morning, I had just left my car when I saw two boys at a distance. They watched me as though they recognized me and were waiting for me. Strangely enough, I didn’t assume the defensive stance that I normally used in order to shun the annoying approaches of sellers or missionaries. Much to my surprise, I felt drawn to them, as though I, too, had been waiting to meet them for a long time. Although they were strangers, I was open and friendly to these clean, sincere young men.
They were two Mormon missionaries. When I found this out, it hit me like a thunderbolt, and I listened to them with great joy in my heart. I felt that God had finally answered my questions. I willingly took a Book of Mormon from them and started reading it with anticipation later that evening.
Sitting alone at my desk with that book, I felt overcome with joy and tenderness. Sweet feelings that I had never known before made me feel almost lightheaded in a semi-conscious state that lasted for perhaps an hour.
God gave me the inner assurance that I would find in that book the truth I had been seeking for so many years. The reading of the Book of Mormon bound me immediately. The Book of Mormon and the Bible both pointed me toward a single divine revelation: the Christian church, which had fallen into apostasy, had been restored! Christ had not abandoned his church after all—it was man who had been the author of the Apostasy, and now the Lord had again placed his church upon the earth! Even I, in my small way, felt that I had been restored. My long night, which had lasted for many years, was finally at an end!
Thanks to God, I was finally happy. My testimony grew every day as I continued to study the scriptures and to discuss the doctrine with the missionaries and the branch president, Ezio Caramia. A few months after meeting the missionaries, I was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Adding to my happiness, my wife also decided to be baptized a few months later.
I later received the Aaronic Priesthood and then the Melchizedek Priesthood. And I testify today, with absolute certainty, that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true and only church of Jesus Christ. I am also grateful for my testimony of a living prophet and of the modern-day Twelve Apostles.
This is my joyful testimony, molded from much suffering, which I offer humbly to all those whom it may help. The Church is eternal, as are all the works of God. It is his masterpiece.

Mattie’s Little Possum Pet by Ida Luttrell The possum was a troublemaker who saw to it that Howler (Mattie’s dog) and Prowler (her cat) got blamed for all the mischief. Mattie finally learns the truth—and that wild animals do not make good pets.

When I was about seven years old, my Primary president wanted to help the children be more reverent in our Primary. She made a large bulletin board shaped like a lamb. Whenever a child was reverent, she put a lamb-shaped sticker on the bulletin board next to his or her name. I really wanted one of those lamb stickers. So one day in Primary, I sat quietly with my arms folded and stared at the Primary president so she would notice me being reverent. A taller boy sat in front of me, so I slid down the bench so she could see me.
Then, as I sat there being reverent, the pianist started playing a sweet, quiet Primary song. As I listened, a peaceful feeling came over me, and tears started to come down my cheeks. I didn’t know why I felt so happy and peaceful inside.
After Primary I told my mom about what I had felt, and she told me that it was the Spirit. That day, I learned what the Spirit feels like. Whenever I need to make important decisions and need guidance from the Spirit, I remember how peaceful I felt that day, and I can recognize how the Spirit speaks to me.

Toshi just moved from Japan to the Philippines. He planned a fun activity for his Primary class.
Are you excited, Toshi?
Yes, but I’m a little scared too. I don’t speak the same language as the other kids.
That’s OK! I’ll tell them what you say.
We have lots of games and treats. I hope they like it.
Of course they will. And it sounds like they’re here!
Thanks for inviting us, Toshi! We’re so happy to be here.
Toshi will speak Japanese, and I’ll tell you what he says.
Your activity was so fun! Thank you!
Thank you for coming!
This story took place in the Philippines.

One time when I was young, I needed to know that Heavenly Father knew me and understood the troubles I faced. I asked Him to guide me to find a scripture that would help me feel better. I opened the scriptures and read, “We glory in tribulations … knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts” (Romans 5:3–5). This scripture taught me that my hard experiences could help me feel God’s love for me and gain patience, experience, and hope. I knew Heavenly Father heard my prayer and answered me through the scriptures. I had faith that things would get better.

Lydia’s birthday was coming.
“What do you want for your birthday, Lydia?” Mom asked.
Lydia thought for a few minutes. Did she want a new toy? Did she want a book to read? Then Lydia knew what she wanted the very most.
“I want to visit the temple,” Lydia said. She wanted to be with her family. She wanted to go somewhere happy. And what place was happier than the temple?
On Lydia’s birthday, Mom, Dad, Lydia, and her sisters got ready to drive to the temple. Lydia even got to invite her friend Grant.
It was a long drive. But that was OK. Lydia told jokes with Grant and her sister Lucy. She told a story to her little sisters, Eliza and Ellie.
And finally, Lydia could see the temple. They had made it!
“Look at the angel Moroni!” Lydia said. She pointed up at the temple.
As soon as she got out of the car, Lydia raced to the temple gates.
There were beautiful trees around the temple. The trees had bright orange and yellow leaves. The leaves on the ground crunched as Lydia and her family walked around the temple.
A big gust of wind blew through the trees. Lydia watched the leaves fly through the air. She ran to catch a leaf before it hit the ground. It was beautiful! She put it in her pocket.
Dad read the sign on the temple. It said, “Holiness to the Lord: The House of the Lord.”
“That means we can feel close to Jesus here,” Mom said.
Lydia felt peaceful. This was a very happy place!
As they drove away, Lydia pulled out her leaf. When she got home she would put it in her special box. That way she could always remember this wonderful day!

Sharon Plays It Cool What would it be like to be rich, then, suddenly, not rich? When it happened to her, Sharon told all sorts of lies to keep people from finding out.Diana Oliver8–11 years

Joy D. Jones and her husband develop a long-lasting friendship with a less-active family after learning to serve out of love for the Lord.

This comment, used by permission of one someone else helped, shows how the Lord gives healing through a priesthood leader when he acts as an inspired instrument: “I so appreciated your words of wisdom and kindness. I have felt such a strength from the Lord. My testimony is growing step by step each day.
“I still have heartache and pain, but now I realize that it is for my own good and that there is light at the end of the tunnel. The blessing you gave me under the direction of the Spirit truly changed me. I am finally able to have hope and know that I will work through this time. I am able to look forward to each new day.”

Our son Scott, who is disabled, has taught us love, understanding, compassion, and absolute dependency on the Savior as no one else could have. Many trainers (people who teach him to do things by himself), leaders, and friends have reached out along the way and provided him with a feeling of worth. One of those was a missionary we met in Brazil and who is now one of Scott’s trainers. Scott and his brothers and sister are especially close and share a wonderful loyalty. All who have blessed Scott’s life have been blessed in return as he touches their hearts and expands their vision. I really believe that you children today are more aware of handicaps and are kinder to disabled people than we adults were when we were children. You can be as loving and as gifted in teaching as anyone!

Meanwhile, President David O. McKay advised Wallace Toronto to apply again for a visa, saying, “[The members] have been carrying on underground long enough. They need the authority of their mission president.” Within a week the Torontos received visas. They visited members in Brno and Prague.

In July 1965 President Toronto returned to Prague, intent on reestablishing the Church. Although he was well received by many governmental officials, the secret police arrested him and evicted him from the country. Mission growth would be suppressed for another 25 years before reemerging in a new epoch of freedom.

Within my first few days of arriving in the Dominican Republic, my companions brought me to visit a man by the name of Amado. During that visit, we talked about the plan of salvation and the opportunity he will have to see his wife again, who had passed away. The Spirit was strong during that conversation. His daughter and a few of his grandchildren were there, testifying of the joy they had felt through living the gospel. They testified of temples and the ability to be with our loved ones after this life, through the sacred ordinances of the temple.
During the following months, we returned to visit Amado weekly. We talked about the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that this gospel has the power of God so that we can take the necessary steps and make promises that will help us return to live with God. We taught him about the priesthood, the power of God here on earth. We explained that God loves us so much, that He gave us another testament of His Son, Jesus Christ: The Book of Mormon. Little by little we taught him about the truths of Christ and His doctrine.
He questioned why we believe this Church is the only true Church on the earth. We invited him to come to church with us to experience it for himself. He enjoyed it but missed the comfort of his usual church. We invited him to pray and sincerely talk with God to ask Him which church is His. Amado prayed and received an answer in a way that he could not doubt that Jesus Christ had restored His Church on earth again. He continued attending church with us. We invited him to enter the waters of baptism and make a covenant with God through the proper authority. When we invited him to be baptized, he asked us if he would be able to see his wife again if he were to get baptized in a different church other than where the two were married. We testified of the perfect love of God and His plan that makes it possible for everyone that has passed on to be able to accept the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that being baptized is our responsibility. We have the opportunity to be baptized in the name of and for our ancestors, so that those people who no longer have their bodies can still enter into the kingdom of God.
Amado wanted this. He was baptized by his grandson, and it was a very special day. Everyone who attended the baptism felt the Holy Ghost testify that the step he took that day was correct and was ordained of God. In the following visits, Amado testified to us that he knows that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is God’s church, and that he knew we were called by God to help him understand this. He had told many previous missionaries to go and preach to the people who didn’t know God, because he already knew God and didn’t need the missionaries. I learned even more that God places us where He needs us and that we can be instruments in His hands through our obedience and the love we have for Him and His children.

Ulisses was called to the Brazil Rio de Janeiro Mission. He served the first part of his mission under President Helio da Rocha Camargo, who would later become the first General Authority called from Brazil. Ulisses began his mission in early 1978. The first temple in Latin America was dedicated later that year in São Paulo by President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985).

In January 1980, Ulisses and his companion, who also had not received his endowment, boarded a bus in Rio de Janeiro for an eight-hour ride to the São Paulo Brazil Temple. Ulisses’s parents and siblings met him there, and the Soares family was sealed for time and eternity. Ulisses has never forgotten those five hours together in the São Paulo Temple. Later that day, he and his companion returned to the mission field.

Work on the temple did not progress very rapidly at first. There were several delays, such as the time United States President James Buchanan sent federal troops to Utah with a new governor to replace Brigham Young. The Saints, remembering the mob violence of the East, were not going to allow their new homes and lands to be plundered again. They stripped their homes of valuables and filled them with straw to be set afire if and when hostile troops came. Even the foundation of the temple was covered with dirt, making it appear to be only a plowed field. Fortunately, a peaceful settlement was reached before the troops arrived in Salt Lake.

Five years after that war ended, the Korean War broke out. Our family had to leave our home in Seoul and move to the countryside. Things were hard for my parents—can you imagine trying to raise a family during a war? People were not properly fed because of the war conditions, and my mother became very sick from an unknown disease. Sometimes when the pain came, she would just be helpless. In my mind I can still hear her screaming because of the pain, and I still feel how awful it was not knowing how to help her.
One day an herb doctor told me that if I got a certain kind of herb for my mom, it would cure her. Another man told me where I could find this plant. So, because of the love I had for my mom, and my sympathy for her pain, I set out early one morning, without telling anybody, in search of this plant. My bicycle was very small and beat-up, with tires that didn’t fit; the road I had to travel was about twenty kilometers (over twelve miles) long. It included two steep hills, a creek, and a mountain. I had only the name of the plant and the general area in my mind.
To me the trip lasted almost forever—up and down, up and down on a dirt road. I found the general area, and when I explained to a man what I was looking for, he told me I needed to go to the home of one of the leaders in the community, who grew the plant in his garden for decoration.
It took me many more hours to get there, but finally I found the place and the plant, and I explained to the owner the purpose of my trip. He said, “Yes, it is true, that plant cures that kind of pain.” Even though I didn’t have any money, he gave the plant to me. I was so happy that I cried! I thanked him and very carefully tied the plant onto my little bicycle. I bowed many times to him for his kindness.
I started back home, down the mountain and across the little creek. About halfway up the first hill, my bike got two flat tires. I wasn’t a Christian then, and I didn’t know about the gospel, but I knew that there was a God who was the creator of all things. I said my own kind of prayer, as I had hundreds of times that day, and I know Heavenly Father heard me. He loves all His children, no matter what religion they are or what they believe. He answers our prayers if we are sincere and honest and say them with a righteous desire.
Heavenly Father answered my prayer that day, and I was able to make it home. When I arrived, exhausted and hungry, it was night; the trip had taken me the whole day. My parents had been terribly worried, even angry, especially because there was a war going on and it was dangerous. I quickly explained what I had done, and I showed them the plant. Then my dad cried, my mom cried, and I cried again. My mom was cured. She lived until 1991, the year I was called as a General Authority.
I don’t believe that it was only the plant that cured my mother. I believe it was mostly a blessing from Heavenly Father. That experience helped teach me the principle of prayer. It is my testimony that if we love God and do according to His teachings, nothing will be impossible if it is according to His will.