Gospel Story Finder

Jaslyn Simpson took a leap of faith in a Beehive class of only two young women. The Beehive adviser in the Crofton Downs Ward, Wellington New Zealand Stake, challenged the Beehives, as part of a lesson on missionary work, to invite a friend to church. And Jaslyn decided she would do it.
“I knew there was something missing in Amy’s life,” Jaslyn says, “so I knew I should introduce her to the gospel.” Jaslyn’s small act of love triggered a major change in the life of her best friend, Amy Valentine. Amy came to church with Jaslyn at the first invitation. She kept coming to Sunday meetings and weeknight activities for the next two months, until Jaslyn and her family moved to Sydney, Australia.
“I had never really had a Christian background. I had no idea how to pray or anything,” Amy says. “But before Jaslyn and her family moved, I decided I was going to keep going to church without them. By then, I knew some other people at church.”
One of those people was Michelle Broczek, the other Beehive in the Crofton Downs Ward. Michelle invited Amy to take the missionary discussions in her home and, with her parents’ approval, Amy was baptized when she was 13. That was five years ago.

Nellie Middleton, a fifty-five-year-old Latter-day Saint, lived in Cheltenham with her six-year-old daughter, Jennifer. To prepare her home against air strikes, she had used her modest wage as a dressmaker to furnish an area in her basement as a shelter, complete with food, water, oil lamps, and a small iron bed for Jennifer. Following instructions from the government, Nellie had also covered her windows with netting to catch flying shards of glass in the event of an attack.1
Now, all over Cheltenham, bombs were whistling through the air and crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar. The terrifying noise grew ever closer to Nellie’s home until a tremendous explosion on a nearby street rattled her walls, shattering the windows and filling the netting with razor-sharp glass.
In the morning, the city streets were filled with rubble. The bombs had killed twenty-three people and left more than six hundred homeless.2

President Smith visited many sites important to Church _______________ and bought some of them for the Church—including the farm in Palmyra, New York, where the Prophet Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. There is now a beautiful temple in Palmyra.

In 1978, Isaac was eight years old. He lived in a small village in Cross River State, Nigeria. His house was made of bamboo poles packed with mud and had a roof made of palm leaves. Isaac loved his village and all the people who lived there.
The village was surrounded by a lush, green forest. There were palm trees, banana trees, ferns, and bamboo. To get to the next village, Isaac walked down the dirt road through the forest or rode his cousin’s old bike.
His family had a small farm on which they grew their own food. They ate soup and gari, a dish that looks like oatmeal and is made of boiled roots. One of Isaac’s chores was to walk down to the river and get water for his mother.
On Sundays, Isaac and his family went to church. Their meetinghouse was also made of bamboo and mud, and it had a neat, white sign: THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER-DAY SAINTS. There was a big brass bell in front.
At church, Brother Ekong taught them about Jesus Christ. He read to them from the few books they had received from Salt Lake City. They sang hymns. Isaac’s favorite hymn was “Come, Come, Ye Saints.”
Isaac and many other people in his village had strong testimonies that the Church is true. They were waiting for missionaries to help them learn more about the restored gospel. Brother Ekong did not have the priesthood. He could not baptize them. More than anything, Isaac wanted to be baptized and become a member of the Church. His father told him, “The time will come when we can be baptized.”
When Isaac and his sisters went into the forest to cut sticks for firewood, he prayed for missionaries to come. While he sat on the bank of the river and watched the colorful fish swim back and forth, he sang hymns. He often pretended that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was singing with him.
One day his father told the family that they were going to have a special meeting on Saturday. Before the meeting, they would fast for twenty-four hours. The meeting was to pray for missionaries to come.
On Saturday, Isaac and his family put on their best clothes. Isaac’s stomach growled with hunger, but he didn’t notice because he was so excited.
Soon the bell rang and the people of the village gathered at the small meetinghouse. It was very crowded. Brother Ekong led them in a hymn and then prayed that the Lord would send missionaries. Many other people took turns praying. Isaac’s mother had tears on her cheeks. They sang again; then it was time to go home.
As the people were leaving, they heard a motor. A car pulled up in front of the building and stopped. Two men and two women got out. Isaac had never seen anyone with skin so pale. Brother Ekong talked excitedly to them. Then he went to the bell and rang it loudly. Everyone quickly returned to the meetinghouse.
Brother Ekong welcomed the four strangers and sat them at the front of the building, facing the people. He told them that the village had been waiting for this glad day for many years. One of the men, Elder Rendell Mabey, stood and told them he was a missionary sent to them by the prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball.
Elder Mabey bore his testimony of the restored gospel. Then Elder Cannon bore his testimony, and their wives also bore theirs. The day was very hot, but no one wanted to leave. The people asked many questions. Elder Mabey promised to return and teach them more. He said that their time had come and that they soon could be baptized.
On the last day of December, 1978, Isaac’s family and many others gathered on the riverbank. They found a spot in the river that had a deep pool. When it was Isaac’s turn, he waded into the gentle river. Elder Mabey took him by the wrist, said the baptismal prayer, and lowered him into the water. The sunlight sparkled on the surface as Isaac waded back to shore. His heart felt warm and sparkly, too.
Twenty-one years later, Isaac stood in the pool of water with his eight-year-old son, Raymond. Isaac now held the priesthood and could baptize his son. His heart was filled with joy as he remembered the beautiful day he had been baptized in that same river. He was very grateful that his time had finally come.

An acquaintance of mine grew up not far from here. By the time he was 14 years old, he was over six feet tall and very uncoordinated. He said, “One afternoon when I was in a 10th-grade seminary class, the Spirit really touched me. I came to know that the gospel literally was true. I made up my mind that day that I wanted to serve the Lord in any way I could.”
By his senior year, he was well over six feet tall and much more coordinated. Many universities offered him scholarships to play basketball. After his first year playing at a university, he told his coach that he would like to be excused for two years to go on a mission. The coach said, “If you leave, you can be sure of one thing: you will never again wear one of our basketball uniforms!” Many thought that his “mission” ought to be playing basketball. Even some family members, including his parents, tried to convince him not to serve a mission. But he was totally committed. He was willing to give everything to the Lord—the scholarship, the applause of the fans, and the excitement of playing. He knew what the Lord was counting on him to do. He was called, and he served an honorable mission.
When he returned two years later, he was even taller and about 35 pounds heavier. His coach decided to repent. He was permitted to wear one of those basketball uniforms again, and in his senior year, his team not only won the conference championship but went on to the finals in national competition.

Third, sleep. Even this basic desire can be temporarily overridden by an even more important desire. As a young soldier in the Utah National Guard, I learned an example of this from a combat-seasoned officer.

In the early months of the Korean War, a Richfield Utah National Guard field artillery battery was called into active service. This battery, commanded by Captain Ray Cox, consisted of about 40 Mormon men. After additional training and reinforcement by reservists from elsewhere, they were sent to Korea, where they experienced some of the fiercest combat of that war. In one battle they had to repel a direct assault by hundreds of enemy infantry, the kind of attack that overran and destroyed other field artillery batteries.

What does this have to do with overcoming the desire for sleep? During one critical night, when enemy infantry had poured through the front lines and into the rear areas occupied by the artillery, the captain had the field telephone lines wired into his tent and ordered his numerous perimeter guards to phone him personally each hour on the hour all night long. This kept the guards awake, but it also meant that Captain Cox had scores of interruptions to his sleep. “How could you do that?” I asked him. His answer shows the power of an overriding desire.

“I knew that if we ever got home, I would be meeting the parents of those boys on the streets in our small town, and I didn’t want to face any of them if their son didn’t make it home because of anything I failed to do as his commander.”1

What an example of the power of an overriding desire on priorities and on actions! What a powerful example for all of us who are responsible for the welfare of others—parents, Church leaders, and teachers!

As a conclusion to that illustration, early in the morning following his nearly sleepless night, Captain Cox led his men in a counterattack on the enemy infantry. They took over 800 prisoners and suffered only two wounded. Cox was decorated for bravery, and his battery received a Presidential Unit Citation for its extraordinary heroism. And, like Helaman’s stripling warriors (see Alma 57:25–26), they all made it home.2

The blessings of my calling as Primary music leader were not limited to the Primary room, though. With the calling came the need to practice and play the music at home so I would be prepared each Sunday. As a result, my own children’s love for Primary music increased. The words of these songs brought a peaceful, calm spirit, comforting our children when they were hurt and lulling them to sleep each night. They insisted on listening to the Children’s Songbook CDs in the car—even if the ride was just a short one—and consequently began to memorize many of the songs.

I’ve gotten lots of great birthday presents in my life, but what I got from my dad on my eighth birthday takes the cake. And it all started when he asked me a single question in a room full of people.
That room was in our church building, and the people filling it were my family members. I had never seen so many of them in church at one time! We were all there to see my cousin Bre get baptized.
As I watched Bre’s parents take pictures of her in her white dress, I started feeling really excited about my own baptism.
I went over to look at the font, thinking about what my special day would be like. Would the water be warm? Would all my family be there? I hoped I would feel the peaceful, clean feeling that I had heard other people tell about. All of these thoughts were tumbling around in my mind when Dad walked over and asked the question that changed everything.
“Chris, who do you want to baptize you?”
Here’s the thing: my dad couldn’t baptize me because he wasn’t a member of the Church.
My mom is a convert, which means she got baptized later in life. But my dad never seemed to want to be baptized, and that made me sad sometimes. I didn’t talk about it very much because I didn’t want to make him feel bad. But this time, I decided to tell him.
“I want you to baptize me. You’re my dad!”
I still remember the look on his face. First he was surprised. Then he looked kind of sad. Then his expression turned thoughtful, as if he were thinking about something important.
“C’mon, buddy. We’ll talk about it later,” he said, wrapping his arm around me as we headed to our seats.
The next day, I stood with my dad again—this time in front of the bishop’s office. It was time for me to meet with the bishop for my baptismal interview. I was pretty nervous, and it seemed like Dad was too. He kept pacing back and forth in front of the office door. After I had my interview, Dad walked right up to the bishop.
“What do I have to do to be able to baptize my son?” he asked.
The bishop froze, right in the middle of his handshake. You should’ve seen the smile that came across his face! He told my dad that he needed to be baptized and receive the Aaronic Priesthood. My dad said that he was finally ready to make these special promises with Heavenly Father.
You can probably guess how this story ends. A month later, I stood in the baptismal font dressed in white. The water was warm. My family was there. Best of all, my dad was standing next to me, ready to baptize me.
I know that lots of kids are still waiting and praying for a family member to get baptized. It’s hard to wait, but we can keep being good examples and never give up hope. Knowing this makes me feel even more grateful for the decision my dad finally made—the decision that gave me the best birthday of my life.

The members of the Hyderabad Stake today picture themselves as latter-day pioneers. Their stake Pioneer Day celebrations have commemorated the trek of the early pioneers as well as modern pioneer journeys. Their celebrations have included square dancing, commemorative hikes, and even handcart rides.

Members of the Hyderabad stake commemorate Pioneer Day through song, dance, and even handcart rides.

In their 2014 Pioneer Day celebration, they placed blocks of ice in a row behind the church and invited members to remove their shoes and walk across the ice, thinking about how the early pioneers crossed icy rivers. At the conclusion of their celebration, the members of the Hyderabad stake were encouraged to remember the spirit of early pioneers and that “all of them are pioneers for their families.”7

They also listened to John Santosh Murala, then serving in the mission presidency, talk about how his aunt Elsie and uncle Edwin Dharmaraju came to Hyderabad to teach their family the gospel. John was the youngest of the 22 pioneer members to be baptized in 1978.

I subscribe to the Ensign, but I read the New Era regularly before I pass it on to my granddaughter, Shelly Mitchell-Baker. I am 76 years of age, but I enjoy this magazine, partly because it is refreshing to know that there is such a paper for youth to read in a world where there is so much to tempt youth to take the wrong road in life. Shelly is not a member of the Church, but she tells me that she reads the New Era from cover to cover.
Unfortunately, I learned about the Church too late in life to influence my children and grandchildren. One of my sons came under the influence of the missionaries six or seven years ago and joined the Church. He sent me a book called “Spencer W. Kimball.” I had never even heard that name, but I read the book and learned a lot about the Church and the wonderful man our prophet is. It was his example which induced my wife and me to allow the missionaries to talk to us. My son baptized me at 74 years of age! My wife and I are full of regrets that we learned so late in life what the Church stands for. I will continue to try to persuade Shelly to let the missionaries talk to her.
Robert A. BowenPrestbury, Pietermaritzburg, South Africa

In 1856, Julia and Emily Hill, sisters who had joined the Church as teenagers in England and been disowned by their family, had finally earned passage for their way to America and had almost reached their longed-for Zion. They were crossing the American plains with the Willie handcart company when they and many others were stranded on the trail by an early October storm. Sister Deborah Christensen, a great-granddaughter of Julia Hill, experienced this touching dream about them. She said:

“I could see Julia and Emily stranded in the snow on the windy summit of Rocky Ridge with the rest of the Willie handcart company. They had no heavy clothing to keep them warm. Julia was sitting in the snow, shaking. She could not carry on. Emily, who was freezing as well, knew that if she did not help Julia stand up, Julia would die. As Emily wrapped her arms around her sister to help her up, Julia began to cry—but no tears came, only soft whimpering sounds. Together they walked slowly to their handcart. Thirteen died that terrible night. Julia and Emily survived.”

Sisters, without each other, these women probably would not have lived. In addition, they helped others survive this devastating portion of the journey, including a young mother and her children. It was Emily Hill Woodmansee who later wrote the beautiful words to the song “As Sisters in Zion.” The verse “We’ll comfort the weary and strengthen the weak” takes on new meaning when you imagine her experience on the snow-packed plains.

Grandmother Jo reached in and pulled out a small velvet box. She opened it to reveal a medal. “This is the Purple Heart medal awarded to your Grandfather Thomas, who fought in World War II,” she explained. “He was wounded on D-Day.”
Christopher proudly held the medal in his hands. Grandfather must have been very brave, he thought. Grandmother Jo took a picture from the chest and showed it to Christopher. It was Grandfather Thomas. He looked handsome and brave dressed in his soldier uniform.

Nearly one year ago, our daughter Alisa died. She had struggled with cancer for almost eight years, with several surgeries, many different treatments, exciting miracles, and deep disappointments. We watched her physical condition deteriorate as she came to the close of her mortal life. It was excruciating to see that happen to our precious daughter—that bright-eyed little baby who had grown up to be a talented, wonderful woman, wife, and mother. I thought my heart would break.
Last year at Easter time, a little over a month before she passed away, Alisa wrote: “Easter is a reminder of all that I hope for myself. That someday I will be healed and someday I will be whole. Someday I won’t have any metal or plastic inside of me. Someday my heart will be free of fear and my mind free of anxieties. I am not praying that this happens soon, but I am so glad I truly believe in a beautiful afterlife.”1
Each of us has physical, mental, and emotional limitations and weaknesses. These challenges, some of which seem so intractable now, will eventually be resolved. None of these problems will plague us after we are resurrected. Alisa researched survival rates for persons with the type of cancer she had, and the numbers were not encouraging. She wrote: “But there is a cure, so I’m not scared. Jesus has already cured my cancer, and yours. … I will be better. I’m glad I know this.”10
I long to see my mother again and feel her gentle touch and look into her loving eyes. I want to see my father’s smile and hear his laugh and see him as a resurrected, perfect being. With an eye of faith, I picture Alisa completely beyond the reach of any earthly troubles or any sting of death—a resurrected, perfected Alisa, victorious and with a fulness of joy.
A few Easters ago, she wrote simply: “Life through His name. So much hope. Always. Through everything. I love Easter to remind me.”23

As my baptism day approached, my mom and I talked about inviting a friend of mine to the service. We had been friends since preschool, but recently she had moved about 45 miles (72 km) away. I knew she didn’t go to our church, so I was nervous to ask her to come, thinking she might not want to. Finally I decided to invite her, so my mom called her mom. My friend and her mom were excited to come! My baptism day was stormy and rainy, so we thought they might not make it. They showed up right on time! They seemed to really enjoy the baptism, and asked a lot of questions. I felt good that they came and shared this special day. It was an easy and fun way to share the gospel.

One mother did her best to teach the steps of repentance in her home. Then came the day she helped her five-year-old son internalize the principles when she accompanied him to the store to account for a candy bar he had stolen. That experience is one the boy will never forget. He learned firsthand about taking responsibility for his actions. With fear in his heart, he returned the candy bar, offered an apology to the store manager, and promised never to steal again. I am pleased to report that he has kept that promise. I know—because I was the mother, and my son was the five-year-old.

When I got back from my mission, I met a beautiful lady named Sandra Joelene Lyon at stake conference. We both attended Idaho State University in Pocatello but lived in Blackfoot. The best part about commuting was that Sandra and I carpooled in the same group. I could tell she was one of God’s precious daughters, and I knew she was the right one for me to marry. One day I sat next to her in the car and said, “You know, you really ought to write your missionary a ‘Dear John’ letter because you know you’re going to marry me anyway.” It wasn’t quite that simple, but after a couple of years we were married.
We got engaged in December, which makes Christmas especially meaningful. Being married for eternity is the greatest gift we could have given each other. My wife is a wonderful blessing as she provides gifts of love to me, our children, their spouses, and our grandchildren. Her love does much to keep our family united.

A few years ago I heard a story that has had a profound impact on my search for truth and understanding. I can’t even remember where I heard the story, but it has haunted me for years.
During World War II a young soldier became concerned for the safety of his wife and baby as the enemy armies pressed toward his village. He put them on a night train for a nearby neutral country to spend the remainder of the war with relatives. Traveling through the night, the young mother became very sleepy. As the conductor walked by her seat, she asked how long until the train arrived at her destination. Glancing at her ticket, he explained that hers was the next stop, but that she had plenty of time to rest. He promised to wake her before arriving. With that assurance, she fell asleep, and the train rumbled on through the night.
Sometime later, the train came to a stop. A man seated across the aisle who had overheard the conversation noticed that the conductor wasn’t in their car and that the young lady was sleeping heavily. Fearing that she would miss her stop, he kindly awakened her. She thanked the man, gathered her baby and her bag, and slipped off the train just as it pulled away.
When the conductor came back into the car and found that the young lady wasn’t there, he inquired about her. The man across the aisle spoke up. “You weren’t here, so I had her get off at the last stop.” The conductor became very upset and explained that the train merely stopped to take on water. There was no shelter available! After the train finally arrived at the next village a search party was sent. The freezing weather had taken its toll, and they found the young mother and her baby dead from exposure.

—In one troop, a Scout was unable to come to the encampment because he fell ill at the last moment. When the other troop members found out he was better, they chipped in $4 each to fly him down for the closing ceremonies.

On one occasion I was reading a general conference talk by Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Though I had heard and read this talk before, one phrase caught my attention and stayed in my thoughts.
A few hours later my son, who was living in an apartment with his friends, came by for a visit. He had served a full-time mission and had attended a few semesters of college. He was unsure what educational direction he should go and which career path he should pursue. Because he had been frustrated and felt that school, for now, was a waste of time and money, he put his studies on hold and began working full time.
He told me that one of his friends had suggested they go to an island in the Bahamas or the Caribbean, get jobs, and have fun for a few months. My son was excited about the prospect. I could easily see how enticing such a carefree experience could be to a young man.
Just then, Elder Scott’s impressive message came to my mind. I picked up the Ensign and read the following to my son: “You are here on earth for a divine purpose. It is not to be endlessly entertained or to be constantly in full pursuit of pleasure. You are here to be tried, to prove yourself so that you can receive the additional blessings God has for you. The tempering effect of patience is required” (“Finding Joy in Life,” Ensign, May 1996, 25).
Without a word, my son took the magazine, walked away, and read the whole talk. Later all he said was that he would not be embarking on his island adventure.
In time he entered the police academy, a path that led him to meet his future wife. They married in the Mesa Arizona Temple and today are raising three wonderful children. In 2010 my son finished his bachelor’s degree and is truly “finding joy in life.”
My son’s proposed adventure might have been a fine experience; on the other hand, it might have been spiritually dangerous. Each time I reflect on this experience, the Spirit touches my heart.
I am thankful for the words of the prophets and that I was prompted to recall a talk that helped me provide guidance. I am also thankful that my son listened to a messenger of the Lord and allowed the Spirit to influence him. I know that many blessings and tender mercies come when we listen to and follow the teachings of the Savior and His servants.

One day, Matilde’s mom told her the ward wanted to gather toys. The toys were for children who had to leave their own country quickly. Matilde’s mom asked if she had any soft toys to share with them. The toys would help them feel less scared on their journey.
At first Matilde didn’t want to share her toys. But then she thought about how happy the children would feel to get a toy. She thought about how Jesus Christ helped others. So the next day, she helped pick out some stuffed animals to share. She was happy in her heart because she could help the children feel better. She loves to follow Jesus!