Gospel Story Finder

The final story comes from President Boyd K. Packer (1924–2015), President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, about the impact of an aged teacher on William E. Berrett. The teacher, a convert from Norway, had imperfect English-language skills. Despite the teacher’s limitations, President Packer recalled, Brother Berrett testified of his teacher, “We could warm our hands by the fire of his faith.”5

Later, William became the head of seminaries, institutes, and Church schools.

On a snowy Friday night, I was driving home from a friend’s house. As I was driving, I was prompted to pull over to the side of the road, and without much thought, I did. But after a moment, I began to wonder why—I didn’t see any danger ahead.
At church I had been taught about recognizing promptings from the Holy Ghost, and I never felt a prompting as strong as this, but I still wasn’t sure if the feeling came from me or from the Spirit.
After sitting in my car for about 10 seconds, I decided to continue home. The streets looked clear. Then, out of nowhere, a group of deer jumped into the road ahead of me—about 10 seconds away at my previous speed. If I had not stopped when prompted, I believe I would have hit the deer, totaled my car, and probably been hurt.
After this experience, I realized what a blessing it is to have the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. I am grateful that the Holy Ghost not only warns us but also comforts and teaches us.

Because the Lord is kind, He calls servants to warn people of danger. I can still remember my mother speaking softly to me one Saturday afternoon when, as a little boy, I asked her for permission to do something I thought was perfectly reasonable but which she knew was dangerous.
She said, “Oh, I suppose you could do that. But the choice is yours.” The only warning was in the emphasis she put on the words could and choice. Yet that was enough for me.
Her power to warn with so few words sprang from three things I knew about her. First, I knew she loved me. Second, I knew she had already done what she wanted me to do and had been blessed by it. And third, she had conveyed her testimony that the Lord would tell me what to do if I asked Him. Love, example, testimony: Those were the keys.

For many years, I owned a handsome pocket watch that once belonged to my grandfather Andrew C. Nelson, whom I never met. He died when my father was only 16 years old.
My father inherited Grandfather Nelson’s watch. When I got older, he gave the watch to me. I treasured that watch as a tangible link to one of my faithful ancestors.
Grandfather Nelson’s parents, like all of my great-grandparents, joined the Church in their native Europe. I will be forever grateful for these pioneer predecessors. Because of their faith and sacrifice to gather with the Saints, my posterity and I have enjoyed the blessings of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
Grandfather Nelson’s watch reminded me of our solemn obligation as Latter-day Saints to gather our Father’s children on both sides of the veil. His watch also reminded me that our ancestors watch and wait for us to identify them and see that their temple ordinances are performed so that they have the opportunity to be gathered eternally into the Father’s fold.
What happened to Grandfather Nelson’s pocket watch? A few years ago, I passed it on to my son. As it did for me, that watch now links him to his progenitors and reminds him of his duty to his posterity.
And so it goes. Each covenant generation carries on the work of the Lord, doing its part in preparing the world for the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

Some time ago, I felt impressed to embark on a road trip to visit family in Salt Lake City, an eight-hour drive from our home in Colorado. With little planning, I loaded up our three young daughters and began the trek. We left later in the day than was wise. My husband stayed behind due to prior commitments. It was an unseasonably warm October day both in Denver, where we lived, and in Salt Lake, so I grossly underestimated the wintry roads ahead as Interstate 80 crosses Wyoming.
We started our journey uneventfully, but temperatures dropped quickly as we gained elevation. I became nervous and full of doubt. Our van had new tires but no four-wheel drive. I hadn’t packed warm clothes or blankets. I was terribly unprepared for something to go wrong. I pulled over to check road conditions and decided to press forward, but a few hours later I was white-knuckle driving in the worst snowstorm of my life.
I laughed and sang with my kids so they wouldn’t sense my unease. I knew this stretch of interstate was no stranger to terrible weather-related accidents. Large snowflakes streaked past the windshield in heavy sheets and blurred my vision. I could hardly make out a landmark anywhere on the road.
I dreaded the occasional 18-wheeler throwing snow and slush across the windshield as it passed. I watched several vehicles slide off the road into ever-deepening snowbanks. I knew I was in trouble. The pressure I felt to keep my girls warm and safe weighed on me as we crept slowly along in the dark.
Suddenly, I felt my phone buzz with a notification.
I had been ignoring my messages to focus on the road but glanced down and saw that my brother, who I thought was home in Texas, had texted me: “We are passing through a bad blizzard in the middle of Wyoming.” I was surprised to learn that my brother and his wife were just a few miles ahead in the storm. They were en route to Idaho in a vehicle much safer than mine and well prepared for cold weather. Our intersection was no coincidence. The storm persisted, but I was not alone.
I called them. Relief washed over me as they talked me through the blizzard. At times, they didn’t have good news. At one point, fatigued from the tedious driving, I asked if the roads ahead had cleared up. “It’s pretty bad around mile marker 280,” my brother responded. “Take your time.”
Soon, I completely lost visibility and resorted to keeping my right front tire along the rumble strip on the side of the road. For many long minutes I continued forward, trusting only the sound of those vibrations to keep us safe on the road. Finally, the skies cleared, and I stopped for the night at a hotel, too exhausted to go on.
I never saw my brother and his wife, but I knew they were there. I didn’t realize how panicked I would have felt without their guidance until my kids were safe and warm in our hotel room. My brother’s knowledge of the specific path ahead gave me the perspective I needed to keep moving forward. Without him, my fear of the next snowy mountain pass might have left me highly reactive, and one anxious tap of the brakes could have sent us off the road.
Here I was, trying to make it to the safety and familiarity of my parents’ home, and my older brother showed up to trudge the path before me. How sad it would have been if I had driven this road never knowing that he was ahead and never accessing the peace available to me. Just as our Savior is there for us, my brother was there even when I couldn’t see him.

I practice baseball almost every day. I’m getting a lot better. Dad practiced with me twice, but most of the time I practice with Sam.
I have a big problem, Reed. Coach said that we’ll have final tryouts for positions on Sunday. I want to be catcher. Sam wants to be catcher too. We’re both good catchers. I think that I could beat him, but I can’t because I don’t play baseball on Sunday. Did you ever play it on Sunday?
I’ve never played baseball on Sunday, and I’m proud of your decision to keep the Sabbath Day holy. But since you don’t play on Sunday, you’ll have to work harder to show the coach how important baseball really is to you. I know that you’ll be blessed for doing what you know is right.
I’m sad about me too. I won’t be the Indian catcher this year because I didn’t go to the final tryouts on Sunday. Sam will be the catcher, and I’ll just play in the outfield. I don’t want to be an outfielder. I want to be a catcher like you. Maybe we only get blessings some of the time when we do what’s right.
I’m proud of you for doing what you know is right and for working hard on your goals. You be the best outfielder that you can be, and you’ll enjoy it. You have many years ahead of you, and you can try again for catcher another time.
Guess what! Coach says that I can be backup catcher! Sam is happy to be the regular catcher, but he told me a secret. He said that I’m a better catcher than he is! He knows how much I love baseball, and he asked me why Primary is better than baseball. I told him to come with me and find out, and he said OK!
Mom says that I’m being a missionary by example. Am I, Reed? You were right about getting blessings when we do what’s right.
I know that I just wrote to you yesterday, but two exciting things happened at church today. One was that Sam went to Primary with me! He liked it. Sister Johnson taught a good lesson about how we got the Book of Mormon, but he liked Sharing Time best because we played chalkboard baseball. We got hits when we correctly answered questions about the prophets. We could help Sam because he was a visitor, and he got a grand-slam home run. He never did that in real baseball. He wants to come again.

James Peter Fugal was an honest man! He herded sheep much of his life in the rolling hills of Idaho. On one bitterly cold winter night, he was herding sheep for another man when a blizzard set in. The sheep bunched together, as sheep do, in the corner of a fenced area, and many died.
Though the death of the sheep was no fault of his, James Fugal felt responsible and spent the next several years working and saving to repay the owner for his lost sheep.
I thought of James Fugal, the humble sheepherder, and how wonderful it was that these children were being taught the same values that made him a man of such noble character.

I was born into a poor family, and early in my life I had to work. This has been a great blessing to me. When I was twelve years old, I had to go to evening school because I worked ten hours during the day. Many times on the way to school I would sleep on the bus or train. Sometimes I would even fall asleep during class. However, upon arriving home late at night, I would always find my loving parents waiting for me.

WELCOME!I’m Sister Simon.Hi! I’m Ramón.Hello. I’m Cathlyn.I’m Mei Lin.Hi! I’m David.And I’m Joshua.
Thanks for coming with me, Mei Lin. I really needed to visit Timmy’s grave, but it makes me so sad.I don’t know how it feels to lose a little brother, Marcia, but it must be awful. I’m glad I can help a little.
Oh, Mei Lin, he’s gone forever! How will I stand it?
He is not gone forever—he’s with Heavenly Father. He’s safe and happy, and he still loves you.You’re just saying that to make me feel better. You don’t really believe it.
I do! I know that Jesus died for us and was resurrected. Timmy’s spirit is still alive, and someday it will be joined with his body again. It’s the truth! I feel it in my heart.
I—I think I feel something, too, Mei Lin. Something peaceful. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.Not wishful—hopeful. Because of Jesus we can all have hope.

In late 2020, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints announced plans to build 36 new houses in the New Zealand Hamilton suburb of Temple View. This new residential subdivision, called ‘Hapori Park at Temple View’, will feature 2, 3 and 4-bedroom homes, some single-story and some double.
On 2 November 2020, leaders from the Ngaati Maahanga iwi, whose ancestral lands include Tuhikaramea (Temple View), joined with representatives of the Church and the construction company, Classic Builders, for an early morning service where a blessing was offered in te reo M?ori to mark the commencement of the Hapori Park at Temple View residential subdivision development.
Before the blessing, Atutahi Riki, from Ngaati Maahanga, shared in remarks, “We are one. On the earth, in the earth, and for the earth. We are one.”
Sod was turned on the site for the first 22 houses, which will be built close by to the Church’s Mendenhall Library and David O. McKay Stake and Cultural Events Centre, then Atutahi Riki offered a blessing. He gave thanks to God and asked that the work would be done thoughtfully and respectfully. He also prayed that the community would be benefited by the new homes.
Atutahi Riki was accompanied by Paratai Tai Rakena, Rangiuia Riki and Raiha Gray.
In his remarks, Steven Peterson, director for temporal affairs for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Pacific Area, expressed gratitude to the iwi representatives and all others who have supported the Church and the Temple View community over many years.
“I acknowledge everyone of all languages and ancestry gathered today. I also greet and acknowledge Ngaati Maahanga the people of this land,” Peterson said in Maori.
“We are delighted to be with you all today,” Peterson continued. “Members and missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have been part of the fabric of New Zealand communities since the mid-1800s. We are happy to be so, and look to the past with deep gratitude, and to the future, with faith and hope.
“As a Church, we place great emphasis on doing what we can to strengthen faith in God and His beloved Son Jesus Christ. In fortifying families, and in contributing to cohesive and compassionate communities. We strive to obey the two great commandments as taught and exemplified by Jesus Christ—to love and obey God; and to love and lift our neighbours.”
He concluded, “We see this project as an opportunity to enhance this beautiful community. To make it an even more wonderful place to live. To raise a family, or to retire, in the glow of the temple—which we see as a house of the Lord—and in close proximity to friendly neighbours.
“We are grateful to work with others, such as our friends from Classic, and with the support and blessing of our Ngaati Maahanga brothers and sisters. Thank you, again, for your interest, support and kindness.”
Classic Builder’s Group representative, Scott Keene, also expressed gratitude for iwi support for the project and to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for its work to strengthen the Temple View community.

My little brother, gently prompted by my intuitive mother, convinced me to start indexing. Initially I did batches of names to appease him, but one day a registry of Hungarian names popped up on my screen. The Spirit swept over me and taught me that I was still able to help bring Hungarian souls to Christ—just on the other side of the veil!

After several unsuccessful visits and discussions with the missionaries, I came to recognize the fact that the Church was true, but I had a problem: The Book of Mormon. I did not accept the idea that there was another scripture besides the Bible that would testify of Christ. I had a keen interest in reading and my supposed broad knowledge of the Bible and other philosophical books did not facilitate my discussions with missionaries.
Finally, I began to read the Book of Mormon. At first, I read it just out of curiosity, but once I started, I could not find the strength to stop. After a full reading in a month, I began to feel something deep inside me, a warm feeling in my heart, a light in my mind, a transformation, a voice.
At night, I could not close my eyes because my mind was revealed about the sacredness of the Book of Mormon. I was baptized in February 2010. As a result, I served a full-time mission and married Prisca Ebi, a lovely daughter of our Heavenly Father!

As I have pondered how we might best provide such examples, I have thought of an experience I had some years ago while attending a stake conference. During the general session, I observed a young boy sitting with his family on the front row of the stake center. I was seated on the stand. As the meeting progressed, I began to notice that if I crossed one leg over the other, the young boy would do the same thing. If I reversed the motion and crossed the other leg, he would follow suit. I would put my hands in my lap, and he would do the same. I rested my chin in my hand, and he also did so. Whatever I did, he would imitate my actions. This continued until the time approached for me to address the congregation. I decided to put him to the test. I looked squarely at him, certain I had his attention, and then I wiggled my ears. He made a vain attempt to do the same, but I had him! He just couldn’t quite get his ears to wiggle. He turned to his father, who was sitting next to him, and whispered something to him. He pointed to his ears and then to me. As his father looked in my direction, obviously to see my ears wiggle, I sat solemnly with my arms folded, not moving a muscle. The father glanced back skeptically at his son, who looked slightly defeated. He finally gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders.
I have thought about that experience over the years as I’ve contemplated how, particularly when we’re young, we tend to imitate the example of our parents, our leaders, our peers. The prophet Brigham Young said: “We should never permit ourselves to do anything that we are not willing to see our children do. We should set them an example that we wish them to imitate.”

I felt similar friendship and service one Sunday when I was sitting in sacrament meeting alone without my daughter during a holiday weekend. My recently widowed friend left her adult children and came to sit by me. My own faith was strengthened as I thought about the faith she has shown in the difficult experience of suddenly losing her husband this past year. The sisterhood we share through Relief Society has helped us gain strength.

During summer break, I took a robotics engineering class at the high school near my home. I was one of the youngest ones in the class. On the first day our teachers put us into groups. In these groups we learned how to code robots. Coding allowed us to invent ways for robots to complete mazes. It was very hard to learn, and it took our group several days to do. Some days, people didn’t come to class, so it was just me and one other person working on our project.
On the last day, the teachers decided to do a fun game with the entire class. They gave each group 20 dried noodles and 10 marshmallows. They told us to make the tallest tower. My group only had two people that day, so a member from another group came over to help us.
Illustration by Macky Pamintuan
We worked on the tower for a long time and tried our best. The tower we made turned out a little too wide and not very tall. We felt like we could have done better. My teammates wanted to quit, but I said, “Let’s not give up.” We took all the noodle pieces from the side and placed them at the top. Little by little our tower grew!
Because we didn’t give up, we tied another group for first place. I learned that no matter how hard things get, we should never give up!

For Easter we decided to follow the directions on how to make your own Easter kite (April 2014). Everyone had a great time making and flying them. Thanks for the fun idea!

A seminary group planned a service in the mountains on Sunday. They felt justified in the excursion since they had planned a testimony meeting as part of the day’s activities. They did have their meeting and enjoyed a spiritual hour together, but after that hour the day became a day for picnicking, games, hiking, and climbing, with no further thought of the Sabbath. The one hour of devotion did not make of that day a holy day.

While I was serving as a missionary in Durango, Mexico, our mission president challenged our mission to try a “week of sacrifice.” He asked us to put forth more effort than usual by working hard and setting specific goals during the week. My companion and I had faith that if we sacrificed this way, the Lord would bless us and we would find many people to teach.
However, during the week of sacrifice, we didn’t have much success. We did not find any families to teach, and we were disappointed.
One morning following that week, my companion and I looked at a map of our area. Our area was very large, but we felt we needed to go to the part that was farthest away.
After we got there, we prayed and asked Heavenly Father which street and which house to go to. When we finished, we turned around to look at all the streets. We saw a railing nearby and peeked over the top. We saw a woman sitting with her eyes closed, with a broom in her hands.
My companion said, “Hello!” and when the woman heard us, she stood up and went on sweeping as if nothing had happened. Then we told her that we were missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ and that we had a message for her. She let us into her home, and we had a very spiritual discussion. We told her about Joseph Smith and how he went into a grove of trees to pray to find the truth, and in answer to his prayer, he was visited by God the Father and Jesus Christ.
She interrupted us and said, “That is true. I know that God answers our prayers. When you spoke to me, I was praying and asking the Lord to send someone who could lead me to His path, and you came immediately.”
We felt the Spirit, and we testified that God had sent us to her and that we too had been praying right then to know which of His children needed our help. Soon Sister Rufina was baptized. In the weeks following, her children, grandchildren, and even some of her neighbors were baptized—a total of 20 converts in that part of our area. The Lord guided us to Sister Rufina, and she was the door to sharing the gospel with her family and neighbors.
I know that Heavenly Father blesses us if we ask Him, but not until after He has tried our faith. I am grateful that my companion and I could be instruments in the Lord’s hands and find people who were ready to listen to the gospel message. I know that God loves us and will guide us if we ask.

Moving can be a scary thing, especially when you go from sixth grade in an elementary school to sixth grade in a middle school, as I did.
My mom took me to school on my first day to get me enrolled. After a quick tour of the school with the school counselor, we were taken to my classroom. My teacher wasn’t there when we arrived, so the counselor said he would find her and let her know I was new in the class. Then he left us with a class full of kids busy with schoolwork.
I was becoming nervous when one boy turned around and said, “Are you new?”
I said, “Yes.”
He stood up, walked over, stuck out his hand, and said, “Hi, I’m Chase.”
“I’m Zack,” I said, shaking his hand. To my surprise, several other boys lined up with outstretched hands and introduced themselves. I didn’t dare look at my mom because I thought she might be crying because these boys made me feel so welcome. I felt good the rest of the day because a group of boys noticed someone who needed a handshake.
After school, my mom asked me how it felt to have a welcome like that. “It felt good!” I said. She told me that if I ever noticed a new person, I would know what to do to make them feel good, too.

In this journey called mortality, clouds of gloom may appear on the horizon of our personal destiny. The way ahead may be uncertain, foreboding. We may be prompted to ask, as did another:
“I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
“‘Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.’ And he replied: ‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.’” (M. Louise Haskins, in The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, second edition, London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1953, page 239.)
As we place our hand in the hand of God, we will avoid the pitfalls of life and arrive safely at our heavenly home.