Gospel Story Finder

Following Irene’s death, my father, Joe, had to decide on his children’s care. My two oldest siblings (Gwen and Peter) were placed into an orphanage called Spurgeons, located in Reigate, Surrey (now the headquarters of the Surrey Fire Service). My immediately older sister, Sue, was taken in by Grandmother Ada, Irene’s mother. In my case, my father made an unusual arrangement by letting a young married couple, the Tappins, move into our house and become my foster parents. They cared for me while my father went to work in Nigeria for the next six years. (In later years I tried to find the Tappins, unfortunately without success.)

I’ve had many blessings in my life—spiritual blessings. I had good parents, a good education, material blessings like a good home. I always had enough to eat, always a bed to sleep in, and many, many other blessings. I had the opportunity of working in business capacities, and in this capacity, of seeing the world, seeing many people. I have had many opportunities, but the greatest blessing that has come to me came through humble missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I want to express gratitude for all that I have to these young men that came to our home—not only that they came, but that they had love enough not to give up. I was a very hard case. I had thought that through my education, and through my background, and my history, and my family that I would be superior. I felt pity for the missionaries. I said, “Well, this fine young man, with such a poor message!” They didn’t give up. They came again and again and again. And I felt an authority radiating through them that was stronger and more than all the knowledge that I had in my previous life—the authority of the true love of Christ. I want to give thanks to this generation of missionaries who did not give up and to the mission president who had concern enough not to withdraw the missionaries from me. It was Elder Theodore M. Burton. I will never forget that.
I will tell you that I’m deeply convinced that this is in my life the most important blessing I have ever received. It changed my life totally. I began to realize that a man can know nothing important in this world unless he has knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ restored by his prophet, Joseph Smith, and follow-through by a living prophet, Spencer W. Kimball. Without this message I would not have a family like I have now. I would not have the love for my lovely wife that I have now, and I would not be able to be so proud of my children.

“What’s wrong, Bryan? You look pretty disgusted,” Grandpa said, coming out of his house next door.
“I am disgusted, Grandpa,” Bryan grumbled. “Today we were assigned a subject for our reports, and Mrs. Hall gave me leaves. Who cares about leaves? And how can a teacher expect me to find any of them in the winter? I counted twenty-seven trees and shrubs in your yard and ours, and every one of them is bare! The only green things I found were some needles on pines and other evergreens. But no leaves!”
“You aren’t trying, Bryan,” the pleasant gray-haired man said. Reaching down, Grandpa plucked a three-leaf clover from a tiny patch of grass between Bryan’s feet.
“The best place to look for leaves in the right season is on trees, because they have so many of them. But look at this tiny leaf. It’s a bit of green, but each leaf is a miraculous little factory gathering sunlight to make a chemical called chlorophyll.
“A leaf can be any size, but because of its distinctive shape, you can tell whether it once grew on a towering oak, an elm, or a maple tree. No two leaves are ever exactly the same.”
Bryan examined the clover leaf with new interest as his grandfather talked.
“All most people know about a tree is that it is pretty, makes property more valuable, gives birds a nesting place, and has leaves that make cool shade,” Grandpa continued. “But one single well-watered tree does a lot more than that. The daily evaporation from one tree can produce the cooling effect of hundreds of air-conditioners.”
“Wow!” Bryan said with new interest. “Then trees should be preserved instead of being bulldozed down. No wonder the ladies from the garden club worked to save those big trees in front of the library!”
“Those trees were large even when I was a boy,” Grandpa told Bryan. “Did you know that leaves protect the soil from raindrop impact that erodes the soil away? Leaves also stabilize water tables in the ground so wells don’t go dry, and they have the ability to absorb polluted air and throw off air rich in oxygen,” he added.
“Leaves are essential to life. They help muffle noise and moderate temperature, wind, and water. Some maple leaves will turn upside down, exposing their lighter sides, to warn of approaching rain!”
“I wonder if the people interested in ecology know all that,” Bryan said thoughtfully. “All I knew was that we find millions of leaves on the ground in autumn. I knew that leaves hang onto trees until fall, when they turn many beautiful colors and then fall off.”
“Dead leaves can still serve man,” Grandpa explained. “Plants can be covered with them to survive in the winter. When ground up or shredded, leaves make a good mulch to fertilize the lawn, or they can be turned into rich compost for the garden.
“Certain leaves also represent different things. The laurel leaf is a symbol of victory. Olive leaves have been symbols of peace and hope ever since the time of Noah when a dove brought an olive leaf back to the ark to show that the flood was over. Oak leaves stand for strength, glory, and honor.”
Bryan stared at the three tiny leaves wilting in his hand. “My report on leaves will be much more exciting than I thought. But I wish I had some leaves to tape into my notebook.”
“What do you see filling all of Grandma’s windows over there?” Grandpa asked.
“Plants! Her house plants,” Bryan answered. “Grandma must have lots of different kinds of leaves! Thanks, Grandpa.”
I’ll bet no one else was given a subject as important as mine, Bryan thought as he started across the yard to ask Grandma for some leaves for his notebook. Now he could hardly wait to get started on his report!

When Friederike started school, she didn’t like it and wanted to stay home! However, before first grade was over, her parents and her teacher decided that school was too easy for her. They promoted her to the second grade, in which Friederike found the challenge she needed. Now she is in the fourth grade and doing well. Her teacher said that even though this sweet child is two years younger than most of the children, she adds a great deal of sunshine and enthusiasm to the class.

In a California stake I heard a mother give this sermon: “I am grateful that I am a woman. I am grateful that I am a wife. I am grateful that I am a mother. I am grateful that I am a Latter-day Saint.” This I thought was a powerful sermon. Motherhood is the greatest vocation.

John and David, two nine-year-olds, are good friends. They are about the same size, but their actions on the soccer field illustrate a big difference between them. While John is eager to play, David seems content to watch from the side of the field. When John plays, he fully expects to score a goal. But when David does play, he doesn’t expect to score, and he never seems to find an opportunity.
The difference between the boys shows up in many situations. John approaches new experiences with enthusiasm, expecting to do well. Jason is usually pessimistic and often refuses to participate rather than exposing himself to possible failure.

I was in a meeting with one of the Brethren when he was requested to tell a story, one he had related on many occasions. And, knowing of man’s tendency to embellish when something is recounted over and over again, he smiled and asked: “Do you want me to tell it as I told it last time or as it actually happened?”

On December 22, 1841, less than a day before Joseph Smith’s 36th birthday, 13 wagonloads of merchandise, purchased in St. Louis, Missouri, arrived in Nauvoo, Illinois. The Prophet was pleased to receive the goods because he was preparing to stock the shelves in his new general store.
The store’s double doors were opened for business on January 5, 1842, and Joseph was delighted with the response of the public. He wrote: “The store has been filled to overflowing, and I have stood behind the counter all day, dealing out goods as steady as any clerk you ever saw, to oblige those who were compelled to go without their usual Christmas and New Year’s dinners, for the want of a little sugar, molasses, raisins, …
“Our assortment is tolerably good—very good, considering the different purchases made by different individuals at different times and … I rejoice that we have been enabled to do as well as we have, for the hearts of many of the poor brethren and sisters will be made glad with those comforts which are now within their reach” (History of the Church, 4:491–92).

Whenever I called home on preparation day, I shared details about mission successes and experiences. I focused on what I had in common with family members, and they shared their travels and things that were happening at home. They even told me how they fed the full-time missionaries pizza because they had heard stories of nice people in Salt Lake City taking care of my companion and me.

One night, my mom and I were at the store and a store employee was helping us. He said it was his last day at the store because he was moving. He said he was getting married in a month. Mom said she loved being married because “it’s being married to your best friend.” He said, “Everyone I talk to says don’t get married, so it’s good to hear that. Thank you.”
We walked past him again on our way out, and I gave him a pass-along card. Mom told him the things on the card have added a lot of joy to her marriage. He said thanks. I felt good, and I was so excited about being a missionary that it took me a long time to get to sleep that night. I felt so happy.

In 1898, President David O. McKay (1873–1970) was Elder McKay, and he was homesick while serving as a missionary in Scotland. He had been in the city of Stirling for a few weeks and was discouraged. One day, on their way into town, he and his companion noticed an unfinished building. “Over the front door,” President McKay later said, “was a stone arch, something unusual in a residence, and what was still more unusual, I could see from the sidewalk that there was an inscription chiseled in the arch.
“When I approached near enough, this message came to me, not only in stone, but as if it came from One in whose service we were engaged: ‘Whate’er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part’” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1956, 91).
Elder McKay took this message to heart, and he made his mind up to act his part well as a missionary and throughout his lifetime of service.
Today, the original stone from Scotland is in the Church Museum of History and Art in Salt Lake City, Utah, while a replica is in the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah.

Adjei Kwame was guided into the Church by spiritual promptings he felt when he took a teaching position in Zimbabwe. “I had been searching for the true church,” he says. “I kept having dreams about a church building. When I went through Kwe Kwe, Zimbabwe, I saw it and wanted to go in to find out what kept coming into my dreams all the time.” When he visited the church one Sunday, he says, “I felt I was actually with some people that I knew a long time ago who had been good friends.”

As part of the service, members of the Kwe Kwe Branch bore their testimonies. Brother Kwame went to the pulpit. He said that he believed in God and wanted to be a member of the Church. He later met with Sister Hamstead, the wife of the mission president. “What actually descended upon the two of us I cannot explain. I became aware that I was weeping. I can’t explain the feeling. I was released of all burdens. I felt that I had gone to a place where I visited often, but now I was at home.”

On a bright Sunday in April 1975 in the war-torn country of Vietnam, Nguyen Van The (pronounced “Tay”), president of the Saigon Branch, entered the local meetinghouse. Right away, members of the branch surrounded him, their faces full of frustration and hope. “President The! President The!” they cried out. “What news do you have?”
“I will tell you everything I know after sacrament meeting,” he said. He urged everyone in the crowd to remain calm. “All of your questions will be answered.”
For decades, Vietnam had been a divided land. Conflict had erupted shortly after World War II. American forces had fought alongside the South Vietnamese against the communist rule of North Vietnam for nearly a decade, but the high casualties led to America’s withdrawal from the war. Now the North Vietnamese forces were closing in on the southern capital of Saigon.
As President The entered the chapel and took a seat at the front of the room, he could hear the rumble of artillery fire. The war that had brought so many Vietnamese Saints to the restored gospel was now tearing the branch apart.
After the meeting, President The informed the Saints that the United States embassy was willing to evacuate Church members. The branch members insisted that President The’s family evacuate immediately so he could give his full attention to evacuating everyone else.
His wife, Lien, and their three children, along with her mother and sisters, flew out of Saigon a few hours later.
The following day, President The and a fellow Saint, Tran Van Nghia, hopped onto a motorbike to seek help from the International Red Cross. But they soon met a tank with a large gun that was rolling rapidly toward them.
Nghia swerved off the road, and he and President The clambered into a ditch to hide. The tank rumbled by them.
Saigon was now in North Vietnamese hands.

“When I went on a mission a little over four years ago, my mission president said something that seemed, at first, totally anti-gospel until I saw it in action. He said, ‘Be true to principle, not to people.’ I have since seen the wisdom of this statement. The only way to be true to your friends is to stand up for your principles. How can this young man say that he values his friend when he is willing to let him lose his eternal salvation?

“I want to tell you about a couple of things that happened to me,” Mother began. “When your dad and I were first married, we went on a trip to Yellowstone National Park. Even though it was getting late in the day, your father wanted to push on to the next town before stopping for the night. But I had a strong feeling that we should stop right where we were. I couldn’t explain why I felt that way, but I did. I told your father, and he said, ‘If that’s what you feel we should do, we’ll do it.’ Now, to this day, I don’t know why I felt that way, but I’m glad that we didn’t drive any farther until the next morning.

As I was scrolling Facebook later, an ad popped up for a page called “Come unto Christ.” I didn’t think much of it. However, something drew me in, and I soon found myself putting my phone number into the site.
A few months later, I received a phone call from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I didn’t answer.
After a quick Google search, I decided to call the number back. The missionaries who answered explained that they’d gotten my information from the Come unto Christ website, and suddenly everything was clear. I’d unknowingly signed up for information from the very Church that I had been learning about.
I started meeting with missionaries and learning more. The spiritual hole inside of me started to be filled. Around the time I was deciding to get baptized, some Christian friends invited me to one of their church campouts.

In Leicester, England, there is an inscription on the outside wall of an old church which bears a remarkably fine thought. The inscription reads:
“In the year 1654 when all things were, throughout this nation, either demolished or profaned, Sir Robert Shirley, Baronet, founded and built this church. He it is whose singular praise it is to have done the best things in the worst times, and to have hoped them in the most calamitous.”

Starting high school was scary. I felt lost in a massive student body, the big campus, and new classes. I tried to keep somewhat invisible so that I wouldn’t embarrass myself.
Slowly I adjusted to my new situation. I got involved in the theater department and made some great friends. By October, I was invited to a birthday party for one of the older, popular boys in our theater group.
I was ecstatic! It was a costume party, and I spent hours putting together an Egyptian dress. The night of the party, my heart was pounding as I walked into the house and saw all my new theater friends in fantastic costumes. Many of them were juniors and seniors, and I still couldn’t believe that they had invited me.
About an hour into the party, our host pulled out a movie and excitedly called all of us to go into the other room to watch it. My stomach clenched when I saw the movie’s case. It was not a movie I wanted to see. Ever!
We all herded into the next room. I tucked myself into a corner of a couch and felt sick. My mind raced over what I should do. Everyone in the room seemed so excited to watch the film. They were my theater group. They were my new friends. I didn’t want to ostracize myself so soon after finally feeling included.
As the title of the movie flickered onto the screen, I knew what I had to do. Without saying a word, I stood up from the couch and walked quietly to the kitchen and stood there in the dark for a minute. Then I turned on the light and considered my options.
I knew the movie would go on for about two hours. Should I call my mom to come get me? Should I wait around in the kitchen for two hours? I had no idea, but the sick feeling in my stomach had lessened, and I was surprised that I no longer felt afraid.
As I stood there in the kitchen trying to figure out what to do, the door from the other room opened and a pretty, popular junior girl walked through. She smiled sheepishly at me and then confessed, “I really didn’t want to see that movie, but I didn’t want to be the only one who left. When I saw you leave and you didn’t come back, I wondered if you felt the same way.”
I nodded, and we both laughed. We hadn’t said more than two sentences before the door opened and another girl came through.
“Did you want to see that movie?” she whispered timidly.
“No,” we both admitted to her.
Over the course of the next five minutes, people kept walking through the door, confessing that they didn’t actually want to see that movie. When at last our host came through the door, he announced, “I’ve turned off the movie. Does anyone want to play a game?”
Later that night, I thought about what had happened. Would we all have sat there watching that awful movie if no one had moved? How would I have felt now if I had stayed? I was struck by the thought that no one had really wanted to see the movie, but everyone had been too afraid to leave. I was surprised that I wasn’t alone in wanting to do the right thing.
That thought gave me a new courage that later helped me make many other decisions before high school was over. Sometimes my decisions left me standing alone. But far more often, my decisions created a chain reaction of good choices by people around me, just like it did at that birthday party.

As a student away from home, I have been unable to attend any Church meetings for two months. The September and October issues of the New Era, which my family forwarded to me, have truly helped satisfy my hunger for spiritual food and have strengthened me in my goal to set an example for those I associate with. My missionary zeal has increased as my confidence in my own testimony has grown, aided by the inspired articles in the New Era. Thank you from a student lonely for association with the Saints.
Vicki Ann BorrowmanLumby, British Columbia, Canada

I am one of those converts. I was converted at 17, when I was a high school student. The missionary who performed my baptism was an Elder Rupp from Idaho. He was recently released as a stake president in Idaho. I have not seen him since I was newly baptized, but I have exchanged e-mails with him and talked to him by telephone. I have never forgotten him. His kind, smiling face is etched into my memory. He was so happy when he learned that I was doing well.
When I was 17, I didn’t really have a good understanding of the messages that the missionaries had been teaching me. However, I had a special feeling about the missionaries, and I wanted to become like them. And I felt their deep and abiding love.
Let me tell you about the day I was baptized. It was July 15, and it was a very hot day. A woman was also baptized that day. The baptismal font had been handmade by the missionaries, and it wasn’t much to look at.
We were confirmed right after we were baptized. First, the sister was confirmed by Elder Lloyd. I sat down with the other members, closed my eyes, and quietly listened. Elder Lloyd confirmed her and then began to pronounce a blessing on her. However, Elder Lloyd stopped talking, so I opened my eyes and looked at him with an intent gaze.
Even today I can clearly remember that scene. Elder Lloyd’s eyes were overflowing with tears. And for the first time in my life, I experienced being enveloped in the Holy Spirit. And through the Holy Spirit I gained a sure knowledge that Elder Lloyd loved us and that God loved us.
Then it was my turn to be confirmed. Again it was Elder Lloyd. He placed his hands on top of my head and confirmed me a member of the Church, bestowed the gift of the Holy Ghost, and then began pronouncing a blessing. And again he stopped talking. However, I now understood what was happening. I truly knew through the Holy Ghost that the missionaries loved me and that God loved me.