Gospel Story Finder

They recognized that their challenges were not at an end. Juan, a priest, was about to enter the army. “It will not be easy to maintain Church standards in the military,” he said, “but I believe that through many prayers I can do it. I do not intend to isolate myself from others who do not share my standards or to try to appear better than they are. But when one of them offers me a cigarette, I will ask for a stick of chewing gum instead. I want to teach the gospel to them.” He felt that the priesthood he bears will be a real help in difficult circumstances. “I don’t believe that anyone who holds the priesthood could possibly ask for anything more. We must be faithful and steadfast in this great calling in order to carry the work forward.”

She takes her schoolwork seriously. With her dad’s help, she worked hard to perform a science experiment for school. Her project was chosen to be entered in the science fair.

I used to have difficulty identifying revelation, but through my patriarchal blessing, Heavenly Father revealed to me His promised blessings and His love for me. It strengthened me and helped me focus on the things that matter most. My faith grew and my love for my Savior and Heavenly Father deepened.

Bree-Ell R., age 16, Auckland, New Zealand

Years ago, as a young missionary, I was assigned to a group of 17 small islands in the South Pacific. One day a member told me that if I would be at a certain harbor on a particular island at sunset the next day, a family would meet me there and listen to the discussions.
What joy that news brought! I was working alone at the time but quickly found four members who were experienced sailors and who agreed to take me to this island.
Early the next morning the five of us started out. A nice breeze moved us swiftly along the coast, through the opening in the reef, and out into the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean.
We made good progress for a few hours, but then the wind began to slow and soon quit, leaving us bobbing aimlessly on a smooth ocean. I suggested that we pray. We pleaded with the Lord three times to send some wind, but still the sails hung limp and listless.
I thought, All that stands between us and the family is a little wind. Why won’t the Lord send it? It’s a righteous desire.
A faithful older brother unlashed the tiny lifeboat and softly said, “Get in. I am going to row you to shore.”
I was astonished. It was miles to shore. The sun was hot, and this man was old. He said, “We have an assignment from the Lord. Before the sun sets this day, you will be teaching the gospel and bearing testimony to a family who wants to listen. Get in the boat.”
We got into the boat; the old man bent his back and began to row. He did not look up, rest, or talk. Hour after hour he rowed and rowed and rowed, fulfilling the calling he had from the Lord—to get a missionary to a family who wanted to hear the gospel. He was the Lord’s wind that day.
Just as the sun slipped below the horizon, the lifeboat touched shore. A family was waiting. I went to their home and taught them the gospel. The family believed and eventually was baptized.
How often do we quit because we pray for wind and none comes? Instead, we need to listen for the Lord’s answer when we pray and then act upon his answer. On the boat, five men prayed, but only one heard and acted. God gave him the strength to be His wind that day, and He will give us the strength to be His wind when we do what He asks.

McKenzie, age eight, has recently been baptized and confirmed. She said, “The best part of being baptized was when I went into the water. I felt pure, comfortable, excited, and happy.” Matthew, age seven, is looking forward to his baptism and confirmation. He said, “Men with the priesthood will put their hands on top of my head.”

President J. Scott Dorius of the Peru Lima West Mission told me their story. He said:
“Becky and I were married for 25 years without being able to have [or adopt] children. We moved several times. Introducing ourselves in each new setting was awkward and sometimes painful. Ward members wondered why we [didn’t have] children. They weren’t the only ones wondering.
“When I was called as a bishop, ward members [expressed] concern that I did not have any experience with children and teenagers. I thanked them for their sustaining vote and asked them to allow me to practice my child-raising skills on their children. They lovingly obliged.
“We waited, gained perspective, and learned patience. After 25 years of marriage, a miracle baby came into our lives. We adopted two-year-old Nicole and then newborn Nikolai. Strangers now compliment us on our beautiful grandchildren. We laugh and say, ‘They are our children. We have lived our lives backwards.’”

When my wife, Christiane, and I were young, these were the words of our living prophet, and we trusted and followed his advice. We knelt across the altar of the Bern Switzerland Temple, being only 20 and 22 years of age, respectively. We were worthy of the covenant, we had no real clue of what to expect, we had no work experience or finished education, and we were quite poor.
All we had in abundance was our love for each other and a lot of naïve enthusiasm. But we began building our world together. We did not postpone having children, and we needed to support each other in getting our education. We strongly believed in the Lord’s promise that “if ye do keep his commandments he doth bless you and prosper you” (Mosiah 2:22).
And He did. When we married, Christiane was in nursing school. Our vision included having her finish her degree, but at the same time we also made a conscious decision to begin fulfilling our dream of having a family. As a result, our first child was born about two weeks before Christiane passed her final exam as a certified nurse.
Now, nearly 40 years later, we are grateful that we could build our family together. Our faith in God and our relationship with each other have become unshaken as we have seen the hand of the Lord guiding us through the process of building our kingdom in mortality. This kingdom will continue to grow forever and ever.

Mommy stopped at Austin’s bedroom door. She looked around the messy room. There were books, trucks, puzzles, blocks, and stuffed animals scattered all over. Mommy stepped over the clutter and into the room. “Austin, did you make this mess?”
Austin looked up from his stack of blocks. “Not me, Mommy.”
“Then who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She knelt down next to a large dump truck. “Dump truck, did you make this mess?”
“Mommy!” Austin giggled. “Dump trucks can’t make a mess. Trucks can’t even talk. But I can.” He snatched up his truck. “Brrrm. Brrrm.” Austin drove the truck into the toy box.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She scooped up a handful of puzzle pieces. “Puzzle, did you make this mess?”
Austin said, “Puzzles can’t make a mess. Puzzles don’t have fingers to use. But I do. I can pick the pieces up like this.” Austin dumped all the puzzle pieces into their box on the shelf.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She stood up and leaned over the bookcase. “Books, did you make this mess?”
Austin rolled his eyes. “Books can’t make a mess. Books can’t even jump from high places. But I can.” Austin climbed onto a chair and jumped into Mommy’s arms. She put him down. Austin bent over and picked up some books. He climbed back onto the chair and set the books on the shelf.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She gathered together three teddy bears. “Teddy bears, did you make this mess?”
“Teddy bears can’t make a mess,” Austin said. “Teddy bears can’t even turn somersaults. But I can.” Austin crouched low, tucked his head under, and flipped over. He stood up, gathered the bears in his arms, and laid them on the windowsill.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She picked up a stuffed lion. “Lion, did you make this mess?”
Austin said, “The lion can’t make a mess. The lion can’t even give hugs. But I can.” Austin gave Mommy a hug. He took the lion and gently placed it on the bed.
“Know what, Mommy?” Austin said. “Toys can’t make a mess, but I can. I made this mess.”
Mommy leaned over and gave Austin another hug. “Austin, you made this mess. But you cleaned it up, too. You are my big helper.”
Mommy’s face grew serious. “You did something besides making a mess, Austin. You told Mommy a lie. But you cleaned that up, too, by telling the truth. Toys can’t tell the truth. But you can.”
Austin smiled. Being a big helper felt good. Being a truth-teller felt even better.

4 On a small piece of brightly colored poster board, write a letter with pretty colored felt-tip pens or crayons. Decorate the edges with bees, butterflies, or anything that gives the poster board a cheerful feeling. Cut the letter into puzzle pieces and put into a heavy brown envelope. Address the outside. Decorate the edges with felt-tip pens. Send it to a good friend, who will have to put the puzzle together in order to read your letter!

I made a “get-along bucket.” I filled it with slips of paper that said things that me, my sister, and my brother can do together. On the back of the papers, I wrote Primary songs that we know. I felt the Holy Ghost while I was making the get-along bucket. I felt grateful for my family.
Avalyn G., age 7, Michigan, USA

This story is repeated by tens of thousands of faithful members each year. In July of last year, the Presiding Bishopric distributed a letter suggesting that any who wanted to contribute to the relief of the suffering for the refugees in Kosovo could make quilts and send them to the Latter-day Saint Humanitarian Center for distribution. Our intent was to collect and ship 30,000 quilts.

We have received more than 125,000 quilts. These quilts have been sent not only to those suffering in Kosovo, but to disaster victims in Turkey, Venezuela, Mexico, and other countries, including Mozambique and Zimbabwe.

During this past year I was privileged to travel to Kosovo, where I personally wrapped many of these quilts around babies and women grateful and teary-eyed. We have found that because of this great organization, we can create in our own homes, teaching family, friends, and neighbors to serve and assist others clear across the world. In the name of the Relief Society and humanitarian services of the Church, we can be creators. Isn’t that exciting?

The sun peeked in at the window. Anna and Josh jumped out of bed.
“Let’s be secret helpers today,” Anna said.
Anna and Josh made their beds.
They put on their clothes and put their pajamas away.
Josh got milk out of the fridge. He took bananas and apples out of the basket.
Anna put a loaf of bread and a jar of jam on the table.
Mommy and Daddy came into the kitchen.
“Surprise!” said Anna and Josh. “Breakfast is ready!”
“It looks delicious!” Mommy said.
Daddy gave Anna and Josh a big hug.

One Laurel, Tamara Smith, thought everything the bells represented was so important that she wore her bell to work at a fast-food restaurant, pinned to her uniform. “This bell is a wonderful missionary tool,” she said. “People ask me why I’m wearing it, and I explain the Church’s standards and some of the gospel to them.”

My wife, Ruby, after a fifty-year lapse, is back at the university taking Spanish 101. Hard work? Of course! Long hours of study to keep up? Many! Who does the cooking? Sometimes I do. Rewarding? I’m so proud of her when she bears a humble testimony that our members in Argentina or Mexico can understand.

I walk the fields, I walk the woods,
My boots have traveled far.
I cannot rest till I bring home
A fairy in a jar.
I’ve learned to move without a sound;
I’ve learned to watch and wait.
I’ve seen them in the purple wood
Beyond the garden gate.
When the moon, like a pale blue circle,
Slides into the sky,
The fairies all begin to dance
In the darkening woods nearby.
The trees are black and lavender,
The flowers ghostly white,
The fairy’s fluttering, flittering wings
Shine silver in the night.
I’ve watched them, and I’ve heard them sing
Underneath the moon.
I’ve reached and nearly touched them,
But they flit away too soon.
I walk the fields, I walk the woods,
My boots have traveled far.
I cannot rest till I bring home
A fairy in a jar.

Their tents were pitched, their marshmallows were roasting. It was almost time for Dracula’s grandson to make his move on the unsuspecting humans. ___________________________ __________________________

My testimony of God and love for the Book of Mormon deepened when I received my patriarchal blessing at age 15. Although I had only met the patriarch that day, I felt as if he knew me intimately. His inspired counsel gave me a clear path to follow and confirmed that God knew me personally. That path included letting the word of God dwell in me richly by loving the scriptures.

A few years ago, I was working full-time and finishing an evening program to earn my Master of Business Administration degree. When I finished my MBA, I wanted to use that “extra” time for something meaningful.
The advice from a trusted professor was simple and clear—I needed to find opportunities to serve. While he knew of my Church responsibilities, he suggested I look beyond my regular circle of influence.
I started a prayerful search to know where my skills and talents were needed and where I could do the most good. I was soon led to a community center that needed mentors for their teen program. I began mentoring a teenage girl whose family had left Somalia as refugees. Each week we practiced reading, writing, and math skills. But beyond that, we developed a friendship and learned about each other’s cultures and dreams for the future. When she moved, I was assigned another girl. Her family had fled Myanmar, and she had been raised in a refugee camp in Thailand. Along with studying, we also discussed the challenges of life and how to respond to them.
I’ve found many other opportunities to use my skills in different ways and serve in the community.
Get out of your comfort zone. With mentoring, at first I wasn’t comfortable working with teenagers or with tutoring in all subjects. But sometimes my main job was to provide motivation and encouragement. We don’t have to be the perfect fit to make a difference. Most of the time, our main impact could be being there, listening, and building a long-term relationship of trust and stability.

For Alvin Martinez, rising against the odds is just like turning swampland into skyscrapers. Despite having polio, which left his left arm and leg dislocated, the 17-year-old priest is an inspiration to his fellow youth.
Alvin was born healthy, and like other newborn Filipino babies he was given polio shots. But somehow, the vaccine attacked his nerves. His right leg and arm started turning immobile, while his left fingers curled up. The polio vaccine rendered his entire right side paralyzed.
Alvin often became the subject of jokes in school when classmates would see him limping his way to class.
“Hey, it’s Alvin,” somebody would shout.
“The way is straight,” another jeered, “but how come you walk crooked?”
“Alvin, Alvin pilay!”
Pilay means cripple; it was a jeer his straight-walking classmates loved to bestow on him.
The teasing wasn’t the only trial. His father suddenly died of a stroke. Struggling with his family’s loss and his classmates’ snide comments, Alvin drifted from school and church activity and found another barkada, or group of close friends.
In Manila, a barkada can consist of either buddies who can build you up or let you down. Alvin still tried to maintain his LDS standards even when friends coaxed him to smoke. “My older friends would invite me to smoke,” he remembers, “but I told them I was a Mormon.”
Alvin finally resolved to rise up despite his limitations and, like David of old, conquer his personal Goliaths. He made a firm resolve to continue schooling. His widowed mother, who now works as a seamstress, was delighted. She had patiently reminded him that his future was brighter if he had a good education.
At school, Alvin found a new barkada, classmates who treated him with respect. “All my classmates are so kind and friendly,” he beams.
But it was Alvin’s strong spirit within his rather frail frame that amazed many. After all, isn’t it the inside of a person that really counts?
A little bit shy at first but actually fun-loving and witty, Alvin also found the Church to be a home away from home. “I enjoy being in church,” Alvin says, “and I like being with my fellow young men.” And because of the influence of good Church friends and priesthood quorum members, Alvin’s testimony was strengthened and he found himself, with the help of his youth leaders, back in church. In visiting Alvin, they would often tell him not to be ashamed of his disability. “We wanted him to know that he was valued,” one youth leader recalls, “and he did feel appreciated eventually.” Alvin is grateful for the missionaries that taught his family, and he’s even more grateful for the youth leaders who helped him come back to church after going through some real struggles.
Today, Alvin is one of the most active Young Men in his ward. Being with his church friends is something he relishes. “They are not ashamed to be with me,” he brightens up, “and they don’t even joke about me.” Instead, it’s Alvin who cracks jokes with them.

Girls in the Walnut Creek California East Stake shared a faith-promoting experience when they were asked to participate in the search for a three-year-old boy lost not far from their stake girls’ camp.
The girls divided into teams and searched until dark, but the boy was not found. Searchers did fin his footprints, however, and the girls fasted and prayed throughout the night that the boy would be found. They felt their prayers were answered when the night remained warm and clear and searchers found the boy the next morning.
Afterward, 150 girls and leaders tied and signed a quilt for the boy and reflected on the test of faith they had endured. All agreed that they had learned a lot about relying on an already full reservoir of faith rather than trying to develop faith in a time of crisis. They won’t forget that girls’ camp or that lesson very soon.