Gospel Story Finder

As I was walking back from a Preach My Gospel activity with my group at Especially for Youth (EFY), I saw a man at a picnic table all by himself. I was walking back to my room, and I felt prompted to go talk to him. Shyly I went over there with my friends. We talked to him for just five minutes. It was such an amazing missionary experience to share a little bit about the gospel with someone.
The rest of the week we saw him every day! We just talked to him and shared whatever we had talked about that day in our classes with him. We ended up giving him a Book of Mormon that we had all written our testimonies in. A year later I learned that the man was baptized! I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to teach the gospel to him with the help of my friends.

After church, Kirill’s mother welcomed their new American friends to their home. She played the piano and sang some Ukrainian songs. The adults ate breads, drank herbal tea, and chatted. Sister Wein from East Germany and Sister Norton translated for them. The two children ate bread and played.
Tanya’s and Kirill’s mothers were thrilled to be able to invite Americans into their homes and allow them to take photos without worrying about getting in trouble with the police. Under Communism, friendly visits with foreigners were not allowed.

On 4 February 1846, the Latter-day Saints began leaving Nauvoo. They had planned to leave in April, but threats from the mobs forced their early departure. Loading their wagons onto the ferry, they crossed the Mississippi River, leaving their homes behind—again! Traveling west about 14 kilometers, they made camp at Sugar Creek, Iowa.
The first days of February were mild, but by the middle of the month snow began to fall. Brigham Young had instructed the Saints to bring a year’s supply of food as well as shelter and other supplies, but many didn’t have the necessary provisions. Some had no tents, and others had unfinished tents that did little to protect them from the cold. After the snowstorms, the temperatures dropped and the Mississippi River froze. This was a blessing for those waiting for the ferry, because they could cross on the ice. But it was a trial for those in Sugar Creek. Many fell ill, and several babies were born in the damp and cold.
The main body of Saints waited in Sugar Creek until 1 March. During this time, additional wagons joined them daily, and Brigham Young organized the Camp of Israel into groups of hundreds, fifties, and tens, with leaders appointed over each group.

The basketball slipped through my fingertips and rolled down the driveway. “Nooooo!” I cried as it bounced across the street—right into Mrs. Clark’s yard!
I remembered Mrs. Clark’s angry words to Mason when his ball had bounced into her yard. “Look at this flowerbed,” she had shrieked. “It’s completely destroyed! If you come into my yard, I’ll call the police!” With that, she’d picked up his basketball, and it was gone. Now I was too afraid to even cross the street to get mine.
I worried all night about my ball. Sure enough, in the morning it was gone. Mom talked to Mrs. Clark the next day, but she wouldn’t give it back. She was one grumpy neighbor.
Mason and Andrew and I thought of ways to get even—like letting her dog out of her backyard at night. But we decided not to.
A few days later my friends and I were outside playing basketball when Mom came out with a cardboard box. Inside was a spaghetti dinner. “Is this for us?” Andrew asked, licking his lips.
“No, it’s for Mrs. Clark,” Mom replied. “She was in a car accident.”
We all frowned. “Why would you do that for Mrs. Clark?” Mason asked. “She’s the meanest person I know!”
“Mrs. Clark needs our help,” Mom answered. “It’s what Jesus would want us to do. Will you boys please take this dinner over to her?”
We walked to Mrs. Clark’s door with shaky knees, rang the doorbell, and waited. And waited. Finally, a cranky voice asked, “What do you want?”
“We, uh, have some food,” I said.
“Food? Why are you bringing me food?” she asked.
“Mom told us to. It’s spaghetti,” I said.
“Oh, spaghetti,” she said softly as she opened the door. Slowly a smile crept across her face. It was the first time I’d ever seen Mrs. Clark smile. She fumbled around in her purse. “Here,” she said, handing me some money. “Take this to your mother and thank her for me.”
“Oh, she won’t want the money,” I answered.
But Mrs. Clark wouldn’t take no for an answer. She dropped the dollar bills into my hand and quickly closed the door.
The next day Mom had another box, this time with beef stew. I placed the money from last time under the bowl of beef stew. Mrs. Clark smiled again when we brought her the food, and again she tried to pay me. But this time we got away without taking it.
“Mom doesn’t want the money,” I called back as we scurried away. “She wants you to have the food.”
The next Saturday we were playing basketball again, and this time Andrew’s ball got away! It bounced down the driveway, across the street, and landed smack in the middle of Mrs. Clark’s flowerbed. As usual, she picked up the ball and disappeared into her house. But this time something different happened. Mrs. Clark came back out carrying a box. She walked across the street, up the driveway, right to where we were standing. We were all about to run.
“Here,” she said, handing me the box. Inside were all three of our basketballs!
“Thanks!” I said with a big smile on my face.
On Sunday in sharing time, Sister Jones asked, “How can we love our enemies?”
I raised my hand high in the air. “By doing something nice for them,” I answered.
Sister Jones beamed. “That’s a great answer.”
When I looked at Mason and Andrew, they were smiling too.

Aunt Jennie sent me a scrapbook for my birthday. The cover is red with “My Book of Remembrance” written on the front in big blue letters. Inside, the pages are thick and gray.
I decided to put the supplies I needed to work on my scrapbook in a shoe box. I soon had the box filled with markers, crayons, stickers, scissors, glue, and tape.
Mom is going to help me fill my book with things about me. She said that when I have filled this book, she will buy me another one!
For the first page I glued a photo of me and signed my name below it. Then I wrote, “My eyes are green. My hair is brown. I am six years old.”
On the next page, I glued a special letter from Grandma. It is the first letter that I have ever received.
Last month I wrote my dad a poem for Father’s Day. Then I colored purple flowers all around it. Dad said it was OK to glue it in my book.
On another page, I drew pictures of my mom, dad, brother, cat, and me. I added a photo of the whole family and wrote, “We are a family.”
Mom helped me find a picture of the Portland Oregon Temple to glue in my book. I want everyone to know that we are a forever family.
I drew a picture of my house and my favorite climbing tree. I also wrote my address and phone number on the page.
If you read my book of remembrance, you will learn lots of things about me. You can fill a scrapbook with things about you, too. When people read it, they will learn about your history!

The story is told of a 14-year-old boy who had come to Nauvoo in search of his brother who lived near there. The young boy had arrived in winter with no money and no friends. When he inquired about his brother, the boy was taken to a large house that looked like a hotel. There he met a man who said, “Come in, son, we’ll take care of you.”
The boy accepted and was brought into the house, where he was fed, warmed, and given a bed to sleep in.
The next day it was bitter cold, but in spite of that, the boy prepared himself to walk the eight miles to where his brother was staying.
When the man of the house saw this, he told the young boy to stay for a while. He said there would be a team coming soon and that he could ride back with them.
When the boy protested, saying that he had no money, the man told him not to worry about that, that they would take care of him.
Later the boy learned that the man of the house was none other than Joseph Smith, the Mormon prophet. This boy remembered this act of charity for the rest of his life.2

Living with increased faith can bring more of Christ’s power into your life. When Razafimalaza from Madagascar was finishing up a difficult year of school, his aunt died. He was devastated. It became nearly impossible to concentrate during school. He was preparing to take the year’s final exams. He prayed, “Please take away my sadness and give me the strength to attend the exam tomorrow.” After praying, Razafimalaza felt strengthened. “I felt like I forgot my sadness,” he said. “God gives me the strength to do anything.”

Tom Bown has learned to let his voice be heard. He took first place in the Voice of Democracy speech contest for the state of Ohio. He went on to compete on the national level in Washington, D.C., where he delivered his speech at a Congressional banquet.

Of his victory on the state level, Tom said, “This speechmaker is left speechless. I’ve learned a lot of things in competitive speaking, and I use a lot of the things I’ve learned.”

Tom is a priest in the Centerville Ward, Dayton Ohio Stake.

Annelise Scott had just moved into her new ward in Irvine, California. So had several other new senior widows. Nobody really knew each other. Then two sisters in the ward planned a luncheon for others, and from that day on, these sisters have been friends, sitting together in Church meetings, celebrating birthdays, carpooling to activities, and helping each other as needed.
“We watch for new senior sisters when they first come to Relief Society, then get their names and phone numbers so we can keep them active and enjoying our little group,” says Sister Scott.

In 1998 my family moved to the Netherlands. My siblings and I attended the American School of The Hague. My mom couldn’t drive us in the mornings, so we rode the bus and train to get to school. My older sisters attended early-morning seminary and left an hour earlier than my younger brother, Shaun, and I. We made it to school easily for the first half of the year, but then the bus routes changed because of construction.
One day we were waiting for our bus when I saw one with a different number but the same destination. I thought the number didn’t matter much, so we got on the bus. After about 20 minutes, I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Shaun and I noticed we were nowhere near our school, and we both felt very lost and afraid.
We got off the bus, and I said a prayer in my heart, asking Heavenly Father for comfort and help. I had been learning Dutch in school and realized I could ask someone for help. I asked around until I found a lady who spoke a little English. She gave us directions to catch the right bus to school. Soon we were headed in the right direction and feeling much better.
I will never forget the lost feeling I felt when I realized I was on the wrong bus. I know that the Lord helped me get back on track as He does constantly in our lives—not only physically, but spiritually. We all will feel lost in life’s decisions if we are not on the right track, but the Lord will always give direction and a way for us to get back on the path toward the right destination.

It was a stormy winter night. At the airport in Chicago, Illinois, many people were stranded due to delayed or canceled flights. A young pregnant woman stood in the long check-in line, nudging her two-year-old daughter forward with her foot.
Many people made disapproving comments, but no one offered to help.
Man: Why doesn’t she pick up that screaming child?
Woman: What a terrible mother.
With a kind smile, Elder Kimball walked up to the woman.
Elder Kimball: Can I help you?
Mother: Thank you.I’ve had four previous miscarriages. My doctor told me I can’t lift anything—not even my own child.
Elder Kimball picked up the crying child, rubbed her back, and gave her a piece of candy. When the girl was comforted, he informed the other passengers and the airport workers of the woman’s condition.
Airport worker: We’ll have you on the next available flight.
Supervisor: Come and sit and rest until your departure.
The woman’s stress was lessened. Later, she saw a picture of Elder Spencer W. Kimball of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Mother: That’s him! That’s the man who helped me.
A few months after that, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.
Twenty-one years later, President Kimball received a letter. It was from the son of that young mother.
Student: I served a faithful mission and am now a student at Brigham Young University. Thank you for helping my mother that terrible night!
President Kimball was happy that his small act of service had resulted in so much good.

When the weather got warmer, there was time for some mountain climbing with Wallace and LeRoi, the three young men striking out for the “highest point” in the mountains above Brigham City:
“We climbed up some of the roughest places I had ever been over. I took the lead after half of the way had been traveled. LeRoi shot a snake over five feet long. There were large, deep banks of snow, some over five feet deep. Large towering masses of stone began to get very common. I walked over one large bed of rock, jumped from one stone to another. Large, deep holes, many over 25 feet to the bottom, were a common thing amongst this immense mass or field of rock. We rolled large boulders over many precipices, and they seemed to shake the earth on their destructive path, tearing up trees by the roots. I arrived at the top first, 25 minutes ahead of the others. … We could see Logan City and the beautiful white Logan temple from our lofty view. We also saw the small towns in all directions around. I left the top for home 2:10 after writing a few notes down. I ran down a path, flying homeward, arriving one hour ahead of the boys. I enjoyed it very much; wore out my shoes.”

Months later, while Ivan was serving his mission, I had the opportunity to plan a vacation with some schoolmates. We wanted to celebrate the end of our high school years and spend a few days at the beach.

I wrote a letter to my missionary brother, mentioning my summer vacation plans. He wrote back that the town he was serving in was on the way to my destination. I decided it would be a good idea to stop by and visit him. It was not until later that I learned that missionaries are not supposed to be visited by family.

I made all the arrangements. I remember sitting on the bus thinking of all the fun Ivan and I would have together on this beautiful sunny day. We would have breakfast, chat, play in the sand, sunbathe—what a great time we were going to have!

As the bus arrived at the terminal, I saw Ivan standing next to another young man, both in white shirts and ties. I got off the bus, we hugged each other, and he introduced his companion. Without wasting another minute, I told my brother my plans for the day, but little did I know what Ivan had scheduled. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Sure! However, we need to do some errands first. Would you come with us?” I agreed, thinking that we would have enough time to enjoy the beach afterward.

That day, for more than 10 hours, I walked through the streets of that town with my brother and his companion. I smiled at people all day. I greeted people I had never seen in my life. We talked to everyone, knocked on the doors of strangers, and visited people my brother and his companion were teaching.

During one such visit, my brother and his companion were teaching about Jesus Christ and the plan of salvation. Suddenly, Ivan paused and looked at me. To my surprise, he politely asked me to share my opinion about what was being taught. The room fell silent, and all eyes were on me. With some difficulty, I finally found the words and shared my feelings about the Savior. I did not know if what I shared was right or wrong. My brother never corrected me; to the contrary, he thanked me for sharing my thoughts and feelings.

During those hours together, my brother and his companion did not spend a single minute teaching a lesson exclusively to me, yet I gained more knowledge than in all my previous conversations with him. I witnessed how countenances were changed as people received spiritual light in their lives. I saw how some of them found hope in the messages, and I learned how to serve others and forget about myself and my own desires. I was doing what the Savior taught: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself.”

Looking back, I realize that my faith grew that day because my brother gave me the opportunity to put it in action. I exercised it as we read from the scriptures, looked for people to teach, bore testimony, served others, and so on. We never got around to sunbathing that day, but my heart was bathed in light from heaven. I did not see even one small grain of sand at the beach, but I felt my faith grow like a small grain of mustard seed. I did not spend the sunny day as a tourist, but I gained wonderful experiences, and without realizing it, I was a missionary—without even being a member of the Church!

I am grateful for my brother Ivan, who not only shared the gospel with me but also indirectly invited me to live it and recognize my weaknesses. He helped me to accept the invitation of the Master: “Come, follow me”—to walk as the Savior walked, seek as the Savior sought, and love as the Savior loves us. Months later, after my missionary experience, I decided to get baptized and to serve my own mission.

On August 15, 1991, another important experience happened. Crystal; her sister, Dawn; her mother, Melodie; and her father were sealed together as an eternal family in the temple. They had traveled eleven hours by bus with twenty-nine other members of their South Royalton Ward to the Toronto Ontario Temple. Mother said, “The ward gave us so much support that it seems like a big family now.” Both girls remember seeing only individual reflections of themselves in the mirrors when they first entered the sealing room, but after they were sealed to their parents, they saw a reflection of their entire family going on forever. Later that night, Crystal had a dream that assured her that Heavenly Father loved her and would never leave her.

My friend and I got into an argument about religion. She thought that since our Church believes that Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost are separate beings, we are not Christians. I explained that Christians are people who believe in Jesus Christ as our Savior. I gave her an Articles of Faith card with a picture of Jesus with the children on it and told her that I knew in my heart that I was a Christian. She did not accept it and told me that I was not going to heaven. We argued about it for a week and two days. Finally I wrote her a note saying that I was sorry for arguing and that I wanted our friendship back. I knew that if I tried to act like Christ, she would know that I was Christian. We decided to respect each other’s beliefs. We are still the best of friends.

At a certain point in my activation, I loved going to church, but I still didn’t feel perfectly comfortable there. I had to decide if I really had a testimony of what I was doing. Was I going back for my children? For my parents? Because I wanted to feel better about myself? What exactly did it mean to have a testimony of the gospel?
I listened intently to members bearing their testimonies in sacrament meeting, wondering if my testimony was real. One Sunday my Gospel Essentials teacher told us that the only thing a person needs to do to begin gaining a testimony is have faith that Jesus Christ lives and presides over the Church.
These words hit me so strongly that tears started streaming down my face. I knew that I knew that much. I knew that Jesus Christ lives, that he loves me, and that he presides over the Church. I also knew I had a testimony of disciplinary councils, prayer, the Word of Wisdom, tithing, and leaders who are called of God. I went home from church that day knowing that I had a testimony.

Recently I watched as a 13-year-old young man was set apart as deacons quorum president. Afterward the bishop shook his hand and addressed him as “president,” explaining to the quorum members that he “addressed him as president to emphasize the sacredness of his calling. The deacons quorum president is one of only four people in the ward who hold keys of presidency. With those keys, he, with his counselors, will lead the quorum under the inspiration of the Lord.” This bishop understood the power of a presidency led by a president who holds and exercises sacred priesthood keys. (See D&C 124:142–43.)
Later I asked this young man if he was ready to preside over this great quorum. His response was: “I’m nervous. I don’t know what a deacons quorum president does. Can you tell me?”
I told him he had a wonderful bishopric and advisers who would help him become a successful and powerful priesthood leader. I knew they would respect the sacred keys of presidency he held.
I then posed this question: “Do you suppose the Lord would call you to this important calling without giving you direction?”
He thought, then responded, “Where do I find it?”
After some discussion, he realized that he would find direction from the scriptures, the words of the living prophets, and answers to prayer. We determined to find a scripture that would be a starting place for his search to learn the responsibilities of his new calling.
We turned to the 107th section of the Doctrine and Covenants, verse 85. It mentions that a deacons quorum president is to sit in council with his quorum members and teach them their duties. We noted that his quorum is not only a class but also a council of young men, and they are to strengthen and edify one another under the president’s direction. I expressed confidence that he would be an outstanding president who would rely on the inspiration from the Lord and magnify his sacred calling as he taught his fellow deacons their duties.
Then I asked, “Knowing you are to teach the deacons their duties, do you know what those duties are?”
Again we turned to the scriptures and found:
A deacon is appointed to watch over and be a standing minister in the Church (see D&C 84:111).
Because the family is the basic unit of the Church, the most important setting in which an Aaronic Priesthood holder can fulfill this duty is in his own home. He provides priesthood service to his father and mother as they lead the family. He also watches over his brothers and sisters, the young men of his quorum, and the other members of the ward.
A deacon assists the teacher in all his duties in the Church if occasion requires (see D&C 20:57).
We determined that if a deacon is to assist with the teachers’ duties, he needs to know their duties. We looked in the scriptures and quickly identified over a dozen duties for the office of teacher (see D&C 20:53–59; 84:111). What a powerful experience it would be for every young man—and his father, advisers, and all of us—to do exactly what this young man did: go to the scriptures and discover for ourselves what our duties are. I suspect that many of us will be surprised—and inspired—by what we find. Duty to God contains helpful summaries of Aaronic Priesthood duties and is a great resource for spiritual development. I urge you to consistently use it.
Deacons and teachers are also to “warn, expound, exhort, and teach, and invite all to come unto Christ” (D&C 20:59; see verses 46 and 68 for priests).
Many young men think that their missionary experience starts when they turn 19 and enter the missionary training center. We learn from the scriptures that it starts long before that. The Lord wants every Aaronic Priesthood holder to invite all to come unto Christ—beginning with his own family.
Next, to help this young president understand that he and he alone was the presiding officer in the quorum, I suggested he read three times the first duty listed in Doctrine and Covenants 107:85. He read, “Preside over twelve deacons.” I asked, “What is the Lord telling you personally about your duty as president?”
“Well,” he said, “several things have popped into my head as we have been talking. I think Heavenly Father wants me to be president of twelve deacons. There are only five of us who come, and one comes only sometimes. So how do we get twelve?”
Now, I had never interpreted this scripture the way he did, but then, he held sacred keys that I did not have. I was being taught by a 13-year-old deacons quorum president about the revelatory power that comes to those with the sacred keys of presidency regardless of their intellect, stature, or age.
I answered, “I don’t know. What do you think?”
And he said, “We need to figure out how to keep him coming. I know there are two others who should be in our quorum, but they don’t come, and I don’t know them. Maybe I can become close friends with one and have my counselors work with the others. If they all came, we would have seven, but where do we get five more?”
“I don’t know,” was my answer, “but if Heavenly Father wants them there, He knows.”
“Then we need to pray as a presidency and quorum to find out what to do.” He then asked, “Am I responsible for all deacon-age boys in our ward, even those who are not members?”
In awe, I said, “In the Lord’s view, does your bishop have responsibility for only the members of the ward or for all who live within its boundaries?”
This young “standing minister” got it. He recognized the role of every deacon, teacher, and priest in watching over the Church and inviting all to come unto Christ.
My thoughts turn to a scripture as I think of our wonderful young men and women of the Church—a scripture that Moroni quoted to Joseph Smith, saying that it had “not yet [been] fulfilled, but was soon to be” (Joseph Smith—History 1:41)—“And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, … your young men shall see visions” (Joel 2:28).
What “popped into” this young president’s head was a vision of what Heavenly Father wants his quorum to be. It was the revelation he needed to strengthen the active members of his quorum, to rescue those who were struggling, and to invite all to come unto Christ. Thus inspired, he made plans to carry out the Lord’s will.
The Lord taught this young president that priesthood means reaching out to serve others. As our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, explains: “The priesthood is not really so much a gift as it is a commission to serve, a privilege to lift, and an opportunity to bless the lives of others” (in Conference Report, Apr. 2006, 60; or Ensign, May 2006, 57).

Before I was born, my family had four boys. My mom and dad thought their family was complete. Then my mom felt the Spirit tell her they needed to adopt a daughter.

My family had to wait almost two years before they could adopt a baby! So my grandparents, parents, and brothers were all very excited to meet me at the airport. Six months after I arrived, my family took me to the Spokane Washington Temple, where I was sealed to them forever. The gospel teaches me that I am a child of God. He knows me and loves me. Because of the temple, I can receive every blessing that my brothers, who were born to my parents, can receive. I can be part of an eternal family!

When our son Matthew was five, he fell from the top of the high diving board at our neighborhood pool. He hit the concrete deck and suffered a fractured skull and a brain concussion. He was rushed by a Life Flight helicopter to the Houston Medical Center for emergency treatment. I needed priesthood assistance immediately. Our home teacher and our priesthood leader were both worthy and prepared at that moment. They helped give Matthew a blessing, and he completely recovered.
We must be ready at any time. As we say in Scouting, “Be prepared.”

I was at one of my last mission conferences, and as he often did, my mission president shared a message he had received from a missionary. Sometimes the messages were funny, sometimes they were inspiring, and sometimes they proved a point. This message was probably meant to be inspiring, but instead it hit me hard. He shared how much this anonymous missionary appreciated her companion. He shared how much love and care this missionary felt from her companion and what an amazing example her companion was to this missionary. As I listened, I felt my soul stretch in such great longing to be like that companion. I desperately wished that I could be that caring and be that loving and do that much good. And then I felt myself collapse inside when I realized I wasn’t.

That wasn’t me, and it wouldn’t ever be me. There wasn’t even time for me to change, and if there was, I probably wouldn’t be able to anyway.

Later that day, after my companion and I were back in our apartment, she referred to the very part of our mission president’s address that had so thoroughly crushed me and confided that she had written that about me. Those were her words about me. I had been staring into an endless, dark void, wishing desperately to be the kind of person I wanted to be—and failing. But her words flipped on a light, and rather than an endless void, I was in front of a mirror looking at a reflection of myself as I already was. Her words meant so much to me. That she would even think I was half the kind of person she made me out to be in her letter filled me with joy.