Gospel Story Finder

“Sister Amy A. Wright, Sister Tracy Y. Browning, and I had the sacred privilege of being set apart by the First Presidency a few weeks ago. When we walked into the room, President Nelson shook each person’s hand and took a moment to look deeply into our eyes. My son, who was with me, told me later how he felt deep love and warmth as he shook President Nelson’s hand.
“I know that President Nelson feels that love for each member of the Church! It is an extension of the love our Heavenly Father feels for us. This weekend at general conference, we will hear messages of love and hope from our dear prophet, as well as so many other inspired and dedicated leaders who love you and love the Lord. Will you please join me in listening?”

The next day when Barry and I were looking for arrowheads in Baker’s Canyon up behind the yellow field, I told him I still loved my dad. When he asked me why, I said, “Remember when your brother didn’t tie up the chain that was hanging way down from the siren on his bike?”
“Yes,” Barry said, “and I told him it could cause an accident if it got caught in the spokes, but did he listen to me? No!”
Last month Barry borrowed that bike. He was flying down a hill when, sure enough, the chain got caught in the spokes of his front wheel. All of a sudden the bike stopped, but Barry kept going, right over the handlebars. He banged himself up pretty badly. In fact, his arm was still in a cast.
“Do you still love your brother?” I asked.
“Of course I do.”
“Why?”
“Well, because … because he’s my brother. He didn’t want me to get hurt. He was just being careless.”
“I’m sure your brother feels bad about it,” I said. “My dad feels awful, too, after he sobers up.”

A fortnight ago I received an interesting letter from a member of the Church who grew up in a country located high in the Himalaya Mountains of southern Asia. He wrote: “I was brought up in a royal, aristocratic, Hindu priest family. I was taught to work but not to hope for a reward. I thought, Why should I work if there is no reward? Am I following the right way? I was offended with polytheistic and pantheistic philosophy. I wanted to know the real truth and the [right] way.” He told how he had found the truth and the only right way through the Mormon missionaries in Seoul, Korea. He bore a powerful testimony of the divinity of Jesus Christ that brought tears to my eyes.
My friend from the Himalayas will have his trials and tribulations as he returns to his homeland to share this important message with his people: that Jesus Christ is our Redeemer and our Savior and our Exemplar who will direct them along the right path that leads to exaltation; that there is a reward, but it must be earned; and that the reward is glorious beyond description. He tasted of that reward when he asked the Lord, “Is it true?” and the Holy Spirit bore witness to him that truly it is.

It had been a rough freshman year of high school. Jenica B., 17, of Illinois, USA, had ballet training, demanding high school courses, and Church and family responsibilities that were all competing for her attention. She was running on four to five hours of sleep, and it was exhausting. Jenica and her parents all knew something needed to change.
“I would love to have a professional career in ballet,” Jenica says, “but ballet, as many dancers know, is a very fragile world, and it’s very difficult.”
Jenica wanted to keep training her hardest, but she also knew she wanted to make her education a priority. “We’d heard of other dancers who had done online school,” she says. “I knew that we had to find a program that would be perfect for me.”
So her mom found an accredited online school program that would allow Jenica to participate in extracurricular activities, and prepare for college while maintaining a rigorous ballet training schedule. And she’d have time for homework, scripture study, and rest. They jumped on the opportunity.
“That was truly a blessing,” Jenica explained. “That was when I started training [in ballet] in Chicago, and I was still able to attend seminary. And I got so much more time to be with my dad because he also works in the city. I was even blessed with incredible opportunities to share the gospel with friends who were curious. It was a really good experience.”
Jenica and her dad spend time together traveling to the city, sometimes even eating dinner together there.

Again, I choose to approach it with faith. I have created a little box on a shelf in my mind—like a beautiful treasure chest. Written on it are the words “To Be Answered at a Later Date.”
Whenever I have a question or concern I cannot resolve, I write it on an imaginary piece of paper, fold it neatly, and put it in the box. Then I put it back on the shelf.
By doing so, I am acting in faith that one day the Lord will answer it. Maybe He will, maybe He won’t. That is up to Him in His infinite wisdom.
By the way, some of my questions have been answered. But many are still in the box. And I’m OK with that.

Learning to set priorities helps us have time for everything we need to do, mainly for the things of the Lord. One of my main priorities was to attend seminary every day. If I attended seminary in the morning and then went to school, the day seemed to have more than 24 hours. Schoolwork was easier, and reading the scriptures personally and as a family became a delight. Remembering to put the Lord first in our lives helps us see everything else with a new perspective and helps us set priorities and reach our goals.
Bianca S., 19, Paysandú, Uruguay

We have one child, a son. We got such a good one the first time we were not blessed with any more. I have seen him grow through the covenants of the Lord. I walked with him through the temple. I saw him serve a mission. I watched as he took his chosen companion to the temple. The way he has lived has invited me to come unto Christ.

Suddenly, the cars arrived, and the hall of the stake house was crowded with boys in straw hats covered with cookies, and girls in neon yellow, green, and orange skirts with big bows holding giant candy bars as hats. And just as quickly, they gathered in a classroom for one more run-through of their song—“Buy Me Chocolate,” which helps explain the cookies and candy bars.
Then another group walked by, all dressed in black and white with red-checkered napkins. They were humming something that sounded vaguely operatic but had tongue-twisting lyrics. Another group had swatches of cloth with an African print. They were going over some steps in a dance.
The cultural hall of the Salt Lake Hunter Stake was filled wall to wall with families from nine wards, all waiting to see each ward’s performance in the Young Women and Young Men Choral Festival. Every ward had two songs to perform: one serious song and one fun song from another country that could include some dance steps. The wards chose from religious songs that have been printed in the New Era.
As each well-rehearsed ward came on stage, the energy began to build. Everyone was ready to sing with volume and enthusiasm. But when the Mapusaga (Samoan) Ward came on (they were the ones with the chocolate song), the Caribbean rhythm had everyone moving. After that, there was no stopping them. Each ward put everything they had into their performances before an appreciative audience.
Why have a choral festival? The youth in the Hunter stake now know it means some fun times at practices and an even better time at the performance. And the audience agreed.

Just as a simple picture allowed Christ to enter into one family’s Christmas traditions, a few notes of music have strengthened another family’s feelings about Christmas.
The Pikes, of Holladay, Utah, have made music an integral part of their lives, and of their Christmases, by producing an annual concert for friends and families in the East Millcreek (Utah) Eleventh Ward.
“Music has a very strong part in my life,” says 18-year-old Emily Pike, who has been helping her family put on the concert for two years. “We think of the Christmas program as a gift that shows the people in the ward how much we love them.”
Emily has found that singing and listening to the words of a hymn or choral music invite the Spirit to dwell inside her. She says that her family tries to bring this feeling into everyone’s heart as they prepare their Christmas program.
“I have always felt the Spirit more strongly when I sing,” Emily says. “I’m able to get into the music more when I’m thinking of the words and what they mean to me. It brings out the life of Christ and helps me to remember what Christmas is really about.”
“You learn to love the music, and you just feel so much happiness, and you feel Christ’s love with you [when you sing].”
As Emily joins her family this season to sing hymns about our Savior, she knows she will be blessed. She also knows that her Christmas will be more meaningful. Most of all, she knows that a short verse in the Doctrine and Covenants is true in her own life. “The song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads” (D&C 25:12).

Make-a-Difference Day
The girls gathered a thousand pounds of food from their families, neighbors, and schools. When they took it to the food bank, they gave a copy of the Book of Mormon with their testimonies written inside to the food bank director.

Some choices present good opportunities no matter which road we take—for example, when deciding which career path to follow or which school to attend. I know one bright and able young man who wanted to become a doctor, but the opportunity did not open up for him; so he chose to follow the law. He has become a very successful lawyer, but I am satisfied he would have been equally successful as a doctor.

President Gordon B. Hinckley recounted this childhood experience: “When I was a boy I raised a question with my father … concerning the expenditure of Church funds. He reminded me that mine is the God-given obligation to pay my tithes and offerings. When I do so, [my father said,] that which I give is no longer mine. It belongs to the Lord to whom I consecrate it.”
His father added: “What the authorities of the Church do with it need not concern [you, Gordon]. They are answerable to the Lord, who will require an accounting at their hands.”

“The challenge,” announced Brother Anderson to our institute class, “is to carry a copy of the Book of Mormon with you at all times while on campus. And hiding them in your purses and backpacks doesn’t count,” he added with a chuckle.
Piece of cake, I thought. How hard can it be to carry around a Book of Mormon?
Faithfully, I stacked the Book of Mormon on top of my books, hoping it would attract attention. It did. One look at the trumpeting angel sent most people running for cover. No one wanted to hear about my book or my religion. Not until Lifesaving 101, that is.
My lifesaving class was a small one, mostly competitive swimmers and divers. It was there that Chris*—tan, blond, and built like Mr. Atlas—asked to see my Book of Mormon. My heart thumped wildly as I handed him the book.
“Do you know what it says in this book?” he shouted, waving it over his head. Instantly, all eyes were on him. “It says that there are eight-foot-tall men on the moon who wear long black coats and stovepipe hats. And they all have 20 wives!”
Some missionary tool this is, I thought, as I considered trying to squeeze my 5-foot, 8-inch frame into the two-foot space beneath my desk. What would my teammates think of me? No sooner had that thought appeared when a scripture from the Bible forced it out:
“For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth” (Rom. 1:16).
I met Chris’s haughty stare with a challenge of my own. “If you can show me where in the Book of Mormon it says anything like that,” I said, “I will leave the LDS church.”
A united gasp rose from the class, followed by a deafening silence. Chris shuffled furiously back and forth through the pages of the Book of Mormon. Finally, thrusting the book back at me, he retreated to his seat, defeated.
I then bore fervent testimony of the Book of Mormon and of the prophet Joseph Smith to Chris and to the rest of the class. No one talked to me much that afternoon during swim practice, except for a quiet guy named Dorian. “May I see your book?” he asked.
Three years later, as Dorian and I knelt at the altar in the Washington D.C. Temple and were sealed for time and all eternity, I was grateful for the challenge of an inspired institute director, grateful too for a prophet of the Lord who challenged us to read daily from the Book of Mormon.

Linda Kemple, 13-year-old Latter-day Saint from Las Vegas, Nevada, has been named first place winner in this year’s regional California State Automobile Association School Traffic Safety Contest. Linda’s winning entry was selected from over 2,600 eligible entries from throughout California and Nevada.
The primary purpose of the contest was to promote interest in safety through artistic means among young people from kindergarten through high school. The winning entries now go on to national competition.
Linda, an honor student, serves as second counselor in her Beehive class in the Las Vegas 25th Ward.

Sanford Ward
The Sanford Ward, Fayetteville North Carolina West Stake, held an activity called “Getting to Know Your Friend.” The Primary children rotated through six stations where they did activities from that month’s Friend, including Kitchen Krafts, Come Listen to a Prophet’s Voice, Funstuf, Our Creative Friends, and some of the stories. They love the Friend and the wonderful and fun things to learn and do.

It seemed an easy-enough project at first, and after mapping out a few ideas, they hurried to find Mr. Baker, who was still watching the Second World War movies. Finally persuading him out into the hall, they asked him for help. "We think it’d be nice if the band gave a Christmas Eve concert for the people stuck here by the storm."
He seemed to be in some sort of a trance. "What was that again?"
"We’d give a concert—just do the pieces we did last night. It’d be a real treat for the kids."
"Are you kidding? Dragging all the instruments and music from the bus? No, absolutely not. Now excuse me, I’ve got to get back."
He staggered back into the room where he entered the battle of Midway.
Their next stop was the sheriff.
"We’d like to organize a little Christmas party for the people stranded here."
The sheriff wiped his brow. "Look, don’t I have enough to worry about without that? How am I going to feed these people? Don’t bother me about Christmas parties. Now why don’t you go watch TV. I’m sure there’s plenty of good specials on."
Back at the vent at the end of the hall, they sat and glumly watched the storm.
"Well, we tried," Steve said.
"That’s all anyone can do."
"Sure."
"Do you want to watch TV now?"
"We didn’t pray about it, Steve."
"It’s too late now; we’ve already bombed out."
"You don’t want to pray about it?"
"No, Cathy, I don’t."
"Why not?"
"Because if we pray about it, and it still doesn’t work out, then it will cause your faith to waver. I never pray about things in front of somebody else unless there’s a pretty good chance for it to happen anyway."
She sat in silence and pouted.
"You can pray about it if you want," he finally suggested.
"I’d feel better with the priesthood saying the prayer."
He sighed, realizing he was going to have to open himself up a little more to her. "Cathy, let me tell you something. The priesthood’s no magic carpet. A lot of things I pray for never work out. Girls always think that guys who honor the priesthood are their tickets to happiness, but we’re stumbling around as much as anybody."
But she wouldn’t let it be. "I think Father in Heaven will honor somebody who holds the priesthood and tries to do the right thing."
They sat for several minutes in silence.
"Okay, I’ll pray with you, but don’t blame me if it doesn’t work out."
It was a simple prayer, offered by Steve. He tried to be as general as possible, not wanting to pin the Lord down to anything specific, but just before closing, she nudged him and whispered, "Ask him about the Christmas party, and the band playing, and the gifts."
And so he did, point blank, with no cop-out clauses that would let them or Father in Heaven off the hook.
A few minutes later they stood at the entrance of the gym and looked at the restless crowd.
"What’ll we do, Steve?" she asked him. He noticed the way she was looking at him. She thinks I know what I’m doing, he thought.
"We’ll just walk around and see if anything happens."
They walked slowly around the gym.
As they approached the trucker’s area, the one who had given Steve a bad time looked up, saw Cathy with him, and made some off-color joke about her.
"Why don’t you be quiet?" Steve snapped.
The guy stood up and started walking toward them. Massive shoulder muscles, a tattoo on both arms. I knew we never should’ve prayed about this, he thought.
Just before the guy was about to punch Steve, a booming voice behind him rang out, "Lay off the kid, Bert, or I’ll get mean!"
Steve looked around to see the biggest man he’d ever seen before in his life standing up. Middle-aged, bald, a little paunchy in the middle, but he must have weighed two hundred fifty pounds, and he spoke with authority.
Bert swore and said he was going to the bar.
The man who helped them said his name was Al and that he had a daughter about Cathy’s age who played in a band in Ohio.
"Al," Cathy said with a big smile, "we’ve got a little problem I think you could help us with."
Steve couldn’t believe the change in the sheriff when Al asked for permission to hold a Christmas party. And Mr. Baker, after he came out of the movie room and looked around to see Al’s figure entirely filling up the doorway, agreed it would be nice to have the band play a concert.
Then Al made a general announcement to everyone in the gym. "I want everybody here to get in the Christmas spirit. There’s no reason for us to sit around feeling sorry for ourselves. We’re going to have a party, and this is what we need. We need gifts for the children, we need some food for a supper, we need Christmas cookies for the children, we need a Santa Claus and somebody to lead us in Christmas carols, and we need enough blankets for everybody. Now get going!"
Within the hour, the preparations were done, including a Christmas tree provided by one over-eager trucker who merely chopped down the tree in front of the school. Some of the truckers went out to their rigs and brought in case lots of canned foods. The salesman from Mity Fine went to his station wagon and brought in his sample assortment of potato chips. Many of the parents went to their cars and brought in Christmas presents originally intended for family and friends at the end of their trip, and they put them under the tree. And the wives went into the school kitchen and began opening cans of ham and vegetables for the meal.
They ate their meal, and then the pep band played. Then Santa Claus arrived, wearing a red jump suit covered with grease from engines and a cotton beard. He passed out the presents from the tree, and they shared the cookies. There was more than enough for everyone.
A traveler who led a Protestant church choir in Abilene, Kansas, then led them in Christmas carols. By that time it was 10:00, and a minister from Polson, Montana, led them in scripture reading and a prayer.
There were blankets left over, even after everyone had taken what they needed.
In the morning they had more ham, and a driver from a bakery provided them with enough bread to make toast. The kids played with their toys, which as the morning passed, gradually self-destructed.
By noon the storm was over and the snow plows had cleared the roads. The truckers were the first to go. The band was delayed because of having to repack all the instruments into the bus.
Steve and Cathy were the last ones to leave.
"It was a miracle, wasn’t it?" she asked.
"Yes, a miracle. For a few hours, we all loved one another."
"Steve, it must be just a small part of the way Jesus feels about all of us all the time."
"How can he do it?"
"I don’t know, but he does."
"Cathy, for a while there, I even liked you."
"Did you?"
"Yes, for a while I did. Could I sit with you on the way back?"
"I’d like that, Steve."
"But look, I’m still going to try and beat you out of first-chair clarinet."
"And I’m still going to show you that I’m twice the musician you are."
"So that hasn’t changed," he said.
"No, I guess not."
They left together, the last ones to leave the now-deserted, paper-strewn gym. The Christmas tree, decorated with Mity Fine aluminum foil, leaned at a precarious angle, and then toppled to the floor with a crash.

I recently had the opportunity to visit my home town, Maputo, where I received the Gospel of Jesus Christ as a single adult in 2000. My first calling in the church after a month of being a member was Primary President. At the time, I could not comprehend why I got that calling. Besides the fact that it was to look after the children during church hours, I knew nothing about Primary and the way that was supposed to be run. I was totally unsure what I was to do in this organization. I thought that the branch presidency was mistaken on their choice.
As I think about it today, it was not a choice of the branch president. It was a calling from Heavenly Father and His son Jesus Christ. In my human understanding, there were many sisters in the branch that I could point out as more prepared and capable of fulfilling that calling. Sisters that were mothers and were probably more experienced in dealing with children of different ages. Despite my feelings of inadequacy, I accepted the calling and learned line upon line and precept upon precept.
It was a great and humbling journey of learning and service. I remember many Sundays when I was the only teacher for the whole Primary. On those Sundays I had to teach music, run sharing time, and teach primary lessons. The best thing was that we always had a senior missionary sister that would play piano for our sharing time. I grew to love Primary music timewhere I could teach the gospel to the children through music. Almost every Sunday, we sang the primary songs “I hope they call me on a mission” and “Follow the Prophet” from the children’s songbook at the request of the Primary children. These were our Primary favourite songs. During my service in Primary, I learned the most basic and valuable principles that helped me grow and understand the fullness of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. I grew to love my Primary children. My Primary class varied from five to twenty and sometimes even more children on some Sundays. But I strived to know each child by name.
It felt overwhelming at times – trying to coordinate Sunday activities, music, lesson, assigning children for the following Sunday. But as I reflect upon the experience, it was a time that Heavenly Father helped me establish deep roots in the Gospel. I often felt loved and needed by the children. It was hectic, yet very rewarding calling.
I loved seeing them having the desire to come to Primary, and my favourite part was the big hugs that I would get from the children at the end of our time together. I often never knew how I was doing as a teacher, until I would hear from a parent or two that their child or their children speak about me at home. Thinking back, I realize that this was the most rewarding calling in the church – there were great needs and a huge opportunity for service.

In December 2024, Elder Stevenson, Elder Matthew S. Holland of the Seventy, and Relief Society General President Camille N. Johnson attended an unveiling ceremony for a Martha Hughes Cannon statue in the US Capitol, sculpted by Ben Hammond.
“She was determined. She was tenacious,” President Johnson said. “I hope that women—including my granddaughters, and my great-granddaughters—will learn of Martha Hughes Cannon and be inspired by her example.”
In December 2024, Relief Society General President Camille N. Johnson and other Church leaders attended an unveiling ceremony for a Martha Hughes Cannon statue in the US Capitol.

When temple visits for my branch were announced, I attended. Even though I could not yet enter the temple, I often walked the temple grounds. I prayed to Heavenly Father expressing my deepest desires to one day enter the temple. Some of these visits were only 10 minutes, but they had a profound impact on my spirit.
On one particularly cold and rainy evening, I arrived at the temple late. Although the grounds were closed, temple security allowed me a few moments on the grounds. I had with me a copy of the temple’s dedicatory prayer. I was impressed to read it.
I was filled with emotions as I read the following words: “Wilt Thou whisper peace to Thy people by the power of Thy Spirit when they come here with burdened hearts to seek direction in their perplexities. Wilt Thou comfort and sustain them when they come in times of sorrow. Wilt Thou give them courage, direction, and faith, when they gather, as to a refuge, from the turmoil of the world. Wilt Thou reassure them of Thy reality and divinity, and of the reality and divinity of Thy resurrected Son.”1
I knew then that my visits to the temple grounds meant something to the Lord, even though I was not inside the temple.

Recently, I had the unique opportunity to hold a page of the original manuscript of the Book of Mormon. On this particular page, for the first time in this dispensation, these bold words of Nephi were recorded: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”
As I held this page, I was filled with a profound appreciation for the efforts of the 23-year-old Joseph Smith, who translated the Book of Mormon by the “gift and power of God.” I also felt appreciation for the words of a young Nephi, who had been asked to perform a very difficult task in obtaining the plates of brass from Laban.