Gospel Story Finder

There have been so many people who have come to me and expressed their remorse for having cheated themselves. There was a young man who had postponed marriage for many reasons: to devote himself unhindered to advanced education, to accumulate material goods, and other reasons. After he finally married, he said, “My life is now so beautiful. Why did I waste so many years without these blessings? I have traded dollars for pennies.”

“Rob,” Mrs. McGinnis said unevenly, “I want to tell you why that tree was so special. This isn’t the first time it has been broken off. The very same thing happened four years ago, when my son Bill was still alive.”
Rob and his dad exchanged surprised looks. They hadn’t known that there were any McGinnis children.
“Bill and a friend broke it off, wrestling in the yard,” she continued. “They worked for weeks collecting newspapers so that they could replace it. That was a year before Bill was killed in an automobile accident. Rob, you remind me of Bill. You’re a lot like him.”

During the Mexican Revolution, Catherine left her home on fifteen minutes notice. She buried her silver and dishes and left a cake baking in the oven and chickens frying on the stove. Taking only one roll of bedding and one trunk of necessities, Catherine quietly closed the door on the fourth home she had been driven from because of her religious beliefs. As they drove away, two daughters stood up in the back of the wagon and began singing “Count Your Many Blessings.” (Hymns, no. 202.) Lula saw her mother, tears rolling down her cheeks, take one last look towards her husband’s grave, then smile at the children.

Members were also blessed with dedicated leaders such as Rey L. Pratt. Called as president of the Mexico Mission in 1907, he served in that calling until his passing in 1931. He loved the history, culture, and people of Mexico and gained their love and trust as they worked together to strengthen the Church’s foundation there. President Pratt’s efforts to build up native Mexican Church leaders proved especially important in 1926 when the Mexican government began enforcing the law that prohibited nonnatives from presiding over congregations in Mexico.6 During this time a group of members formed what was called the Third Convention and began calling their own leaders and building meetinghouses.

I was the youngest child, and my mother decided that she and I would walk across a mountain range separating the two countries. I remember that she packed a lunch as if we were going for a hike or a picnic in the mountains.
We took a train as far as we could and then walked for long hours, getting ever closer to the West German border. The borders were tightly controlled, but we had a map and knew of a time and a place where it might be safe to cross. I could sense my mother’s anxiety. She observed the area intensely to see if we were being followed. With each step, her legs and knees seemed to become weaker. I helped carry her heavy bag filled with food, vital documents, and family photos as we climbed up one last, long hill. Surely, she thought, we had passed the border by now. When she finally felt safe, we sat down and started to eat our picnic lunch. For the first time that day, I’m sure, she breathed more easily.
It was only then that we noticed the border sign. It was still far ahead of us! We were having our picnic on the wrong side of the border. We were still in East Germany!
Border guards could show up any moment!
My mother frantically packed up our lunch, and we hurried up the hillside as quickly as we could. This time we didn’t dare stop until we knew with certainty that we had reached the other side of the border.
Even though each member of our family had taken very different routes and experienced very different hardships along the way, eventually all of us made it to safety. We were finally reunited as a family. What a glorious day that was!

I have a friend whose mom doesn’t go to church anymore. I take my friend to activity days with me. The other day, on the way home from activity day, my friend said she wants to start going to church!

My family and I were roasting hot dogs around a campfire when I fell out of my chair and burned my arm. I got a third-degree burn on my elbow. It hurt so bad. My sisters hugged me and tried to make me laugh while my brother went to get my dad’s consecrated oil. My dad gave me a priesthood blessing. He blessed me to heal quickly and feel no more pain. The pain went away. When we went to the hospital, the doctors and nurses were surprised that I was cheerful and talkative. I made them all laugh. I know the blessing helped me to heal quickly. I am thankful my dad has the faith to use the power of the Lord to bless me.

A few years ago we were standing in a large crowd of people gathered early in the morning along the waterfront of Apia Harbor in Samoa. It was the occasion of the National Holidays, when hundreds of people came to watch the Fautasi, or long-boat, races that sweep in from the ocean to the calmer waters of the harbor to cross the finish line.
The crowd was restless, and most eyes were turned toward the sea, watching for the first glimpse of the fautasis. Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd as the boats came into sight in the distance. Each of them had a crew of fifty powerful oarsmen dipping and pulling the oars with a rhythm that forced the crafts through the waves and foaming water—a beautiful sight.
The boats and men were soon in full view as they raced toward the finish. Even though these powerful men pulled with their might, the weight of a boat with fifty men moved against a powerful adverse force—the resistance of the water.
The cheering of the crowd reached a crescendo when the first long-boat crossed the finish line. We walked over to the place where the boats docked after the race had concluded. One of the oarsmen explained to us that the prow of the fautasi is so constructed that it cuts through and divides the water to help overcome the resistance that retards the speed of the boat. He further explained that the pulling of the oars against the resistance of the water creates the force that causes the boat to move forward. Resistance creates both the opposition and the forward movement.

Ahh! Real shade at last. This is my favorite tree. I call it my remembering tree.
Why is that?
Last summer I was under this tree reading the Book of Mormon and praying about it. And I got this peaceful feeling. I really felt it was true.
I still read and pray. And when I remember what the Holy Ghost has already taught me, my faith gets stronger.

Maria Jasmine Juan, living in Manila, Philippines, away from her family, is among those who choose to come to Relief Society. “I was very lonely and missed my mother,” she says. “I knew that if I would go to Relief Society, I would be all right. As the sisters welcomed me to enrichment meeting, I realized there was a whole room full of ‘mothers.’”

Sometimes the wind is playful;
It blows away my hat
And makes me chase it down the street
Before I get it back.

Benjamin Juarez, 12, faces different challenges in Brooklyn. He was born in California, lived briefly in Mexico, and now, while his father is studying to be a doctor, Benjamin and his three younger brothers do what every successful Brooklyn child does: adapt.
“You can’t live here the same as you do other places,” Benjamin says. “For your own safety, you have to keep your eyes wide open.” Once, at school, some bigger boys jumped him. He’s never let that happen again. “You have to be a little tough, just for safety.”
That’s another lesson of city life: everyone takes care of himself, and that extends to the gospel. “My friends in the ward live a long way from me,” Benjamin says. “We only see each other on Mutual nights, Sundays, and for Scout activities. So everybody has to have his own testimony. He just can’t depend on anyone else for it.”

In one area where more than 300 homes burned, the residents honored the firemen and the missionaries. One resident said, “These missionaries worked longer and harder than anyone else.” Then the missionaries sang, “Because I Have Been Given Much,” (Hymns, no. 219). After the song, the missionaries and residents hugged one another with tears in their eyes.
Said one elder, “We showed others that though we are young, the gospel guides our lives whether we are teaching the gospel or digging out the remains of a home.”

It started in August 2006, when a little boy drowned during a family trip. After losing their son Ryan, Craig and Alisha Adams wanted to build a swing or maybe a seesaw, something for their other children to remember him by. Within a few weeks, the project grew into a full-fledged memorial park, complete with a rocket ship playground and a dragon slide. It became a community effort to build a monument to all children.
Volunteers from across Cache Valley (in northern Utah) donated time and money to design and build Ryan’s Place Park, but first someone needed to dig the foundations for the playground supports. That’s where the Providence stake youth came in.
The park looks a lot different now that it’s finished. The playground echoes with children’s laughter. In addition, there is a cobblestone path that bears the names of children who left this life all too soon. The bittersweet contrast reminds grieving families that they will be with their loved ones again.
“This park is a fun, happy place to remember our family,” Craig Adams says. “One of these days we’re all going to be reunited, and it’ll be such a happy day. When that day comes, all of our suffering will be worth it because we’ll be with Ryan again.”

At our multistake youth conference, we all received a Book of Mormon and were invited to give it to someone. I wanted to give mine to my favorite pop singer.
When I found out he was giving a concert in my city, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity. Each of his concerts has a lottery that selects 15 fans to go backstage and meet him. It’s nearly impossible to be selected, but I entered anyway.
A few weeks before the concert, I wrote my testimony in a Book of Mormon and prayed. I explained to Heavenly Father that the odds were against me and that I needed His help.
As soon as I said “amen,” my cell phone rang with a call from the singer’s office. I had been selected!
Backstage on the day of the concert, I presented the singer with the book. He opened it and read my testimony: “I spent a lot of time thinking of a valuable, useful present for you. I realized that I needed to give you something that was valuable because of what it contained and not because of its price. This is the Book of Mormon; it is the most precious thing I have. It will be for you too if you read it.”
He gave me a hug and said he would read it. I couldn’t hold back my tears!

Moisés swung open the gate and walked into the car parts shop. School was over, and it was time to help Papá at work. Moisés grabbed a broom and started to sweep. He liked to help Papá. He even got to earn some money.
Soon it was time for Moisés to leave. He said goodbye to Papá and started to walk home. He felt sad as he walked. It always felt strange to go home without Papá. Moisés’s parents were separated. He and his seven siblings lived with Mamá. Papá lived somewhere else. Mamá worked three jobs because they didn’t have much money. It was a hard time for all of them.
One day there was a knock at the door. It was two missionaries. They shared a message about Jesus Christ. They also taught about a prophet named Joseph Smith. Moisés felt something special inside as he listened.
The missionaries kept coming back to teach Moisés, Mamá, and some of his siblings. Moisés and his family started going to church. They read the Book of Mormon. They stopped drinking coffee. They even chose to be baptized!
Moisés learned that Heavenly Father loved him. And even though things were still hard for his family, he felt more comfort and peace.

I’m grateful that our youth leaders planned a visit to the temple. As we were preparing for this trip to Apia, Samoa, we were happy for this rare opportunity. We joyfully went into the temple to do baptisms for the dead—for those who are in the spirit world waiting for us to find our family history and do work for them.
During baptisms, I saw a young man in our group baptized for Faataga Agavale, my grandfather. I felt tears of joy in my eyes, and I knew his spirit was there. I was very happy we were able to do work for him in the temple.
Saini Agavale, Samoa

A true story from the USA.
Ethan’s face got warm as he stared at the picture on the computer. He didn’t mean to see it. It had popped up randomly while he was doing homework. This is pornography, he thought. He should close the computer and go tell his parents.
“Ethan! Time for dinner,” Dad said from the kitchen. Ethan closed the computer. His heart raced.
He didn’t want to tell his parents. Not yet.
The next day, Ethan did his homework on the laptop again. He usually did homework in the living room. But Mom and Dad were busy. Nobody would notice if he took the laptop into his bedroom.
He closed the door and sat on his bed. The pictures he saw yesterday kept coming to his mind. They made him curious. He finished his homework quickly so he could find more.
His curiosity grew the more he looked. It also made him feel excited.
Footsteps sounded down the hall. Ethan quickly closed the laptop and pushed it under a blanket. A moment later, someone knocked on his door.
“Come in,” Ethan said.
Dad opened the door and peeked inside. “How’s your homework?”
Ethan nodded. “Good. I’m done.”
Can Dad tell I’m lying? he wondered.
But Dad didn’t say anything about it.
The next day after school, Ethan went to his room with his laptop and started looking online again.
“Ethan!” Mom called down the hall. “Time for dinner.”
Ethan looked at the time. It had been hours since he started looking at pornography on the computer!
At dinner, Ethan sat with his family but just stared down at the food on his plate. That night before bed, he didn’t even want to pray. He felt too guilty.
Ethan felt bad every time he looked at the pictures. He wanted to stop. But he didn’t know how.
One day after dinner, before he could go to his room, Dad stopped him. “Ethan, do you want some ice cream? Mom took your brother and sister to their soccer games.”
Ethan loved ice cream! He set down the laptop. “Sure.”
While they got out bowls and ice cream, Dad asked about school and friends. Ethan ate delicious mint chocolate ice cream and laughed when Dad told a story about his own friends.
Dad was almost finished with his ice cream when he asked, “Ethan, have you ever seen pornography?”
Ethan’s face got really hot. “I don’t know.”
“It’s OK to tell me if you have,” Dad said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed or ashamed. It’s normal to be curious about it. We can talk about it anytime.”
Dad didn’t sound mad. Ethan felt brave enough to talk to him. He knew the Holy Ghost was helping him.
“OK.” Ethan took a deep breath. “It was an accident at first. But I was curious and didn’t want to stop. Now it’s a bad habit. And I feel bad inside, like I don’t think I can pray.”
Dad put his spoon down and gave Ethan a hug. “I love you. Heavenly Father loves you too. He knows that sometimes we make wrong choices. That’s why He sent Jesus Christ to help us. And that’s why He sent me and Mom to help you too.”
Dad looked into Ethan’s eyes. “And He always wants you to pray. No matter what.”
Ethan felt hope in his heart. “Will you help me say a prayer now?”
“Of course.”
Ethan and Dad bowed their heads and folded their arms. “Dear Heavenly Father,” Ethan said. “Please forgive me for looking at pornography. Please give me strength to stop. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
When the prayer finished, Dad gave him another hug. “I’ll always be here for you, OK?”
Ethan smiled. “OK.” For the first time in days, he felt good inside. He knew that his parents, Heavenly Father, and Jesus Christ would help him.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve joins the choir entourage, enlarged this day by the hundred or more Utahns joining Brother Jon M. Huntsman in the dedication of a factory in Armenia that will produce high-tech concrete to house homeless Armenians suffering from a 1988 earthquake. In appreciation for the service the Church rendered to quake victims, a plot of land in the city of Yerevan is given to the Church by officials of the Armenian Soviet Socialist Republic. Elder Russell M. Nelson and Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve and Elder Hans B. Ringger of the Seventy express gratitude for the gift. The site will be used to construct a multipurpose building containing offices, a Church meetinghouse, and residences for Church volunteer workers helping to train Armenians in home construction.

I live in Canberra, Australia. My dad and mum gave me my first journal as a present when I was about eight years old. I wrote in it for a couple of months; then I gave it up. A few years later when I was 12, I got it back out and read it one day. I decided I’d better start writing again, because by then I had received three other journals as presents!
About this time, a seminary teacher in our branch challenged me to write in my journal every day for 20 days. She said if I did, it would become a habit. I decided to try it.
Writing was hard at first, but it got easier. I found that by writing my feelings and thoughts, spiritual things got included too. I made my record fun by trying to include information I thought my children might be interested in someday, like how much things cost. I figured it would be interesting for them to see what it was like for me when I was a kid.
I found that a journal is a good way to express your feelings. Things you may not want to share with anyone else you can write in your journal. For example, I find it hard to bear my testimony in sacrament meeting (even though I do it sometimes). But I bear it all the time in my journal.
I really like to write on Sundays, when I’m thinking about spiritual things. And I like to go back and read what I wrote before. I can see how much I have changed; I can see that parts of my journal are much more spiritual than others. It helps me analyze my life and see what the Lord does to help me. It relaxes me and gets my mind off the world.
I received my 20-day challenge five years ago. I’m still writing in my journal every night. I get it out before I go to bed. I read my scriptures; then I write in my journal. It’s automatic. I haven’t missed an entry in five years.