Gospel Story Finder

When Gina Randall joined the Church in Johannesburg, South Africa in 1969, she was recently divorced with two young children. She had no family support and no friends in the Church. Her new branch was a large one. Coming to church was a daunting experience.
“At first I was very dependent on the missionary who had introduced me to the Church, but as he neared the end of his mission, he realised I needed another friend,” she says. “He introduced me to another, older sister who had been baptised at a similar time as I was.
“We clung together like monkeys!” says Sister Randall. “Just having somebody around when everything seemed new and strange gave me a lot of comfort. She really was my lifeline.”
Now, still an active member 52 years later, “I often wonder if I would have made it if it wasn’t for her,” she says.

My wife and I recently attended a high school reunion. How grateful I was for the dates I had in high school! Meeting these good friends many years later, I was very grateful I had no sad memories of dates that were not what they should have been.

Following a high school football game you are invited to join a party with some of the players. The young man who ran the kickoff back for the winning touchdown is there. He is handsome and very friendly. He is eager that you be fully included.
Suddenly someone produces a pack of cigarettes, another pulls out several cans of beer, one fellow has some “hard stuff.” One of your friends surprises you by accepting a can of beer. The boy who made the winning touchdown offers you a beer. Suddenly the grizzly bear is staring you in the face, as big as life. Will you cast your principles aside, or will you utter a silent prayer and remain loyal to the principles you know are true?

One elder who was transferred from another mission wanted to go home. He knew his parents and bishop wanted him to stay and complete his mission. In one of the many interviews we had, he said that five previous elders in his ward had abandoned their missions and had returned home early. I thought what a great disservice the first elder did to the other young men who followed his poor example. I made a solemn vow that this elder would not go home until his mission was completed successfully. Every week for thirteen to fifteen weeks he would write in his letter to the president all the reasons he should be released from his mission. Each week I wrote a letter of response.
After all these weeks I received a letter which appeared the same as the others—until I got to the P.S. He said, “President, you are winning and you know it.” I sat in my office, and tears filled my eyes.
Vince Lombardi said, “The harder you fight for something, the harder it is to surrender.” This elder completed his mission as a great presiding zone leader. He has a great warmth and a great talent to teach; he loves and cares for people; and he is extremely spiritual. He returned home with an honorable release from a very successful mission, married a beautiful girl in the temple, and now they live near the temple where they visit regularly. This elder set a great example for all prospective missionaries from his ward.

Carlomagno Aguilar from Angeles, Philippines, provides just one example. When he learned that his area would be going into quarantine because of the COVID-19 pandemic, he hurried to buy supplies—although his list was different from those around him. He had a plan to be prepared, buying seeds and fertilizer for his home garden.
Carlomagno Aguilar started an online channel to teach about urban farming.
To be more self-reliant, Carlomagno has been an urban farmer for years. He also ministers to his neighbors, both by giving them produce from his garden and by teaching them to grow their own food. He also created an online channel where his tips and tutorials are available to everyone, helping his brothers and sisters become more self-reliant and prepared for the future.

On June 5, 1994, the Quorum of the Twelve, of which President Hunter was then President, collectively holding all of the keys of the kingdom, convened in the Salt Lake Temple. President Howard W. Hunter was then ordained and set apart by the Twelve, with President Gordon B. Hinckley as voice for the Twelve. President Hunter thus became the President and legal administrator of the Church and the only man authorized to dispense, oversee, and exercise all of the keys of the kingdom of God on earth. He also became the successor to the keys held by Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, John Taylor, Wilford Woodruff, Lorenzo Snow, Joseph F. Smith, Heber J. Grant, George Albert Smith, David O. McKay, Joseph Fielding Smith, Harold B. Lee, Spencer W. Kimball, and Ezra Taft Benson.

When he sees the size of a mustard seed in Jerusalem, M. Russell Ballard recalls the Savior’s teachings on faith.

Our Neighborhood Grandma’s children live far away. We check on her every day. We head straight for her “jungle” room. There, potted plants with great, long arms and fingers beckon. The Neighborhood Grandma’s great, long arms and fingers answer with touches here and there as she sprinkles and splashes and sloshes each plant. Pools of water form on the floor.

We yank off our shoes and sprinkle and splash. We slosh and splat and make the puddles fly. Our Neighborhood Grandma kicks off her boots. Her practiced feet make the water sloosh and slop higher still.

When it’s time for us to go, she pouts, “You always leave in the middle of the fun. Stay and slosh all day!” We love our Neighborhood Grandma.

A Million Miles
During the trip President Hinckley also met with small groups of members during brief stops in Delhi, India, and Nairobi, Kenya. He said he told the members during these visits to continue “keeping the faith, living the gospel, doing what they ought to do, taking care of their families, providing for them, giving them spiritual strength.”
To speak to countless members, President Hinckley has traveled more than one million miles since becoming fifteenth President of the Church in March 1995.
Church News contributed to this report.

Life was going to start at 16. No more having Mom drop me off at dance practice or chauffeur me on my nights out. No more watching older sophomores jingle their key chains as I stepped off a sputtering bus. I was going to get my driver’s permit!
Sure, I would have to drive with an adult in the car, but it was the first step toward freedom. Since age 12 I had been bugging my father to let me practice, but Dad always refused. I still remember the lecture he gave me on the eve of receiving my permit.
“The car is not a toy. Blah, blah, blah. Driving is a serious thing. Blah, blah, blah. People get in car wrecks. Blah, blah, blah.”
I sat in the living room, arms folded, listening quietly. But there was a gleam in my eye. I was ready to hit the road. When Dad put the keys in my hands, I felt a surge of power. Life had begun!
So think of my surprise when driving turned out to be infinitely more difficult than I’d imagined. The road looked so small from the driver’s seat. I could never shake the feeling I was overlapping into the next lane. Every time an oncoming car neared me, I swerved to get away. What’s more, I had lived in the same town all my life and never paid attention to how to get anywhere.
Now, if these had been the only crises of my driving career, I would have probably reached 17 unscarred. But I had to face another obstacle on a daily basis—our driveway.
Our driveway was five times as long as a normal one and had an uphill curve right at the end. It might have been manageable going forward, but Dad insisted we back in. He said he liked to pull out onto the road and see what was coming at him.
It was nearly impossible to negotiate the thing in reverse. To make matters worse, Dad always parked his truck right on the other side of the driveway. It was a big truck that left little room for error. And the truck was Dad’s pride and joy, a sitting duck in a bad location.
One fateful day, after I’d finished trying to find my way through town, I failed the driveway obstacle course. Dad was sitting in the passenger seat yelling his usual directions at me, “Okay, take it slowly. To the right. To the RIGHT! You need more gas. Turn it left now. LEFT! Straighten it out. Straighten it! Straightenstraightenstraighten! STOP!!!” Crunch.
My father leaped from the car and surveyed the damage. The truck had an ugly, ugly dent. He was furious.
“Why didn’t you straighten the car out? Why didn’t you stop?”
I had tried to stop, but I had pressed the gas instead of the brake. I didn’t tell him though. I went in my bedroom, and cried. Life had ended.
A while later, a knock came on the door. I opened it, and Dad stepped in.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “I’ve always believed people are more important than things, but that’s not how I acted just now. I’m sorry.”
I was too amazed to say much. I had just smashed his truck and he was apologizing to me. He was really sorry. It was a lesson I would remember long after the other driving sessions had faded from recall.
Three days later, my younger brother noticed the dent. We were about to get in the car to leave for his soccer game.
“Wow!” my brother gasped. “What happened to the truck?”
“It was a hit and run,” Dad said calmly. Which in the broadest sense was true. I had hit the truck and run to my room. My brother didn’t notice the half smile Dad slid to me. I smiled and got in on the driver’s side.
“Okay,” I said cheerfully. “How do we get to the soccer field?”

Also attending were two traditional chiefs from the village of Erakor in the southeast area of the main island of Efate—Chief Leo Kalomtak and Assistant Chief Peris Kalopang.
Chief Kalomtak said, “The teachings about the main beliefs were very clear and the answers to our questions during the question time in each booth were good. Today, we can say that we have a better understanding of the Church.”
Guests were invited to visit three areas in the Port Villa meetinghouse, each with a different topic: the Restoration of the Church of Jesus Christ; the plan of salvation; and the temple and family history.
The sessions in each area lasted about 35 minutes each with the help of four hosts who were full-time missionaries or local leaders of the Church. They answered questions and offered their personal feelings about the Church.

As a young missionary in Germany, just a month or two in the field, I had two similar experiences that affected my testimony of the Book of Mormon in a profound way.
One morning as we were tracting, my companion and I knocked on the door of a minister of a prominent church. He invited us in, asked us to be seated at his table, and then immediately began to attack the Book of Mormon in a highly agitated and animated way. I understood most of what he was saying, and the contentious spirit in which he was saying it was unmistakable, but my lack of proficiency with the German language made it difficult for me to respond. My senior companion, a strong and outstanding missionary, simply bore a powerful testimony of the book, and we excused ourselves and left. My heart was pounding. I believe I was shaking a bit. I felt troubled.

The next morning, the daily newspaper, the Times and Seasons, was delivered to each family before breakfast. It reported on the events of the previous day and announced the schedule for the upcoming day. The most anticipated event was a meeting called by the Prophet Joseph Smith for the entire village to meet in the square.
The person playing the part of Joseph Smith recounted the persecution the Saints had suffered in Jackson County, Missouri. Then he called for young men to volunteer to leave the village and march to redeem Zion. Later, the volunteers followed their leaders down main street as young women gave them bottles of water and supplies for the journey.
While the young men were gone, the young women reenacted the organization of the Relief Society, where Emma Smith and her counselors and secretary were sustained.
The young men marched a good distance with meager rations of beef jerky, crackers, and dried apples. A heavy rain fell, and the young men had only tarps to sleep under, but no one complained that wet, weary night. Instead, their heads were filled with thoughts of those who walked the 1,000 miles on the real Zion’s Camp.

These friends decided to help their neighborhood by picking up trash at the park. The pathways show where the friends walked. Follow each path! Who picked up the most trash? Who saw the most squirrels? Answers below.
Answers: most trash—red; most squirrels—blue

I had been searching for an answer to a nagging problem in my life and was flipping through the July 1992 FYI section of the New Era. There my eyes chanced upon the scripture reference Doctrine and Covenants 121:7–8 [D&C 121:7–8]. I cannot tell you the amount of peace, love, and warmth that flowed through my heart at that moment. I now know prayers are always answered. I love your magazine and have read it since I was 11. That’s seven years now. Thank you for the excellent counsel and advice that comes with each issue.
Laurie BassMoline, Illinois

At times, the Lord needs a little help to assist some as to the validity of this truth. I recall when I served as chairman of the Church Missionary Committee that I received a telephone call from a member of the presidency of the Missionary Training Center at Provo, Utah. He advised that a particular young man called to a Spanish-speaking mission was having difficulty applying himself to his language study and had declared, “I never can learn Spanish!” The leader asked, “What do you recommend we do?”

I thought for a moment, then suggested, “Place him tomorrow as an observer in a class of missionaries struggling to learn Japanese, and then advise me of his reaction.”

My caller responded within 24 hours with the report, “The missionary was only in the Japanese language class one-half day when he called me and excitedly said, ‘Place me back in the Spanish class! I know I can learn that language.’” And he did.

The sun was just going down behind the mountains when Annie and her two brothers set out for the sheep pasture. Since the sheep hadn’t been in for water that day, Dad was worried that something had happened and they were lost. Annie and her brothers were often asked to follow the fence along the pasture and check for any holes that would allow the sheep to escape. This time was the same as any other time, except that night would soon be upon them.
“I wonder if the sheep went through the same hole in the fence as last time,” Annie said.
“I doubt it,” Karl told her. “Dad fixed it really good. I know because I helped him.”
“Then did they make another hole?” Lewis asked.
“Probably,” Karl said. “Maybe they were chased through the fence by that pack of stray dogs that has been running loose.”
The threesome said nothing more as they hurried around the fence. Annie was sure that her two brothers were thinking the same thing she was: It would be dark soon, and if the sheep hadn’t gone through the familiar hole, it could take a long time to find where they had gone. Stray dogs could have chased them far away by now.
At the old hole in the fence, their fears were realized. It was patched well, and there were no tracks showing that the sheep had escaped that way.
“We won’t have time to find them tonight,” Lewis said. “We better go tell Daddy.”
“If we go back without having any idea where they are, it could take Dad a long time to find them. We better finish walking by the fence and see if we can find where they escaped,” Karl said.
As Annie walked near the fence behind her brother, a Primary lesson she once had came to her mind. It was about Jesus and His sheep. Her teacher said that Jesus would look for even one of His lost sheep. Maybe He would help them with theirs.
“Hey!” Annie exclaimed. Her two brothers jumped at her sudden outburst. “Why don’t we pray and ask Heavenly Father to help us find our lost sheep like Jesus finds His lost sheep?”
“Why would He want to find our sheep?” Karl asked.
“He looks for lost sheep all the time,” Annie told him. “He can help us find our sheep.”
“He looks for sheep?” Lewis asked with a confused look on his face.
Annie nodded. “My Primary teacher told me that He does. And if we pray, He will help us find our lost sheep.”
The two boys agreed, and the children made a tiny circle and bowed their heads in prayer. As soon as the prayer ended, the children heard the sound of a bleating sheep.
“It worked!” Annie cried happily. “Heavenly Father answered our prayer!” The children rushed toward the sound, barely finding their way in the growing darkness. Karl began calling for them, and soon the sheep crossed through a hole in the fence and hurried back to the water trough.
“How did you find the sheep?” Dad asked the children when they arrived home. Annie explained how she remembered her Primary lesson on Jesus being the Good Shepherd and that Heavenly Father helped them find their sheep, just like Jesus looks for His sheep.
“And do you know who His sheep are?” Dad asked.
Annie shrugged her shoulders.
Dad chuckled, but his eyes filled with tears. “All of Heavenly Father’s children are Jesus’s sheep,” he explained. “If there are any that are lost or hurt, He does all He can to bring them back to the flock where it’s safe.”
“You mean Jesus’s sheep aren’t really sheep?” Annie asked in surprise.
Dad nodded and a tear slid down his cheek. He sat in a chair and lifted Annie onto his lap. “Jesus used this parable about sheep to teach us about caring for others. You had great faith that Heavenly Father would help you find your sheep. And now you might know a little bit about how Jesus feels when one of His sheep is lost.”
Annie sat on Dad’s lap thinking about what she had just learned. After a while, she said, “Daddy, I want to help Jesus find His sheep too.”
“I know you do, sweetie,” Dad said. “We all want to.”
“How can I?” she asked.
Smiling, Dad explained, “Pretty much the same way you found our sheep today. You have to look for them and lead them to water.” At her questioning look, he continued, “Jesus is the Good Shepherd, but He is also called the Living Water because He feeds us spiritually. By sharing your testimony with your friends, and living as a good example, you can lead them to the Savior.”
Annie clapped her hands. “I get it now. That’s what my Primary teacher meant when she talked about the sheep following Jesus to green pastures and pure water.”
“Yes,” Dad agreed. “The scriptures say, “‘He shall feed his flock like a shepherd.’”*

When I was eight I invited a friend in my class at school to a Cub Scouts activity. He is still coming now that we’re in Boy Scouts. He has been to church a few times now too. When I invited him, I didn’t know that his grandparents are members of the Church and in our ward. They had been praying a lot that he would be able to have some connection to the Church, and my invitation came as an answer to their prayer.
Michael M., age 12, California, USA

Reference was made this morning to DaNang in South Vietnam. During the height of the war, shortly before Christmas several years ago, I sat in a meeting there with a great body of Latter-day Saint troops and some friends who had come with them, the conflict all around us. We sang the songs of Christmas and of our faith. There was much of testifying and of preaching and witnessing, and there was a solo sung by a nineteen-year-old boy in the uniform of his country. He sang without accompaniment in a high tenor voice, sweet and clear, “Silent Night,” and all wept. I went to my place of rest that night, thoughtfully considering the early morning meeting when we would again be together. At dawn the next morning there was a knock on the door of my quarters. The nineteen-year-old was there. He had on his full battle gear, the grenades hanging from his belt, his gun in hand, his helmet in the other hand, apologetic in his approach, so humble and so gentle. He said, “I am very sorry to disturb you this morning, Brother Hanks. I thought I would be able to attend the meeting, but I pulled a mission and I can’t be there. I just wondered if you would mind letting me shake your hand one more time.” We shook hands and reached out beyond that in a warm embrace. And then he went to his mission, and I to my knees.

The privilege of serving the Lord on a mission is felt and demonstrated in many ways. One missionary had struggled with family problems since he was a boy. While still young, he was expelled from his home and went to live with another family who introduced him to the Church. The gospel gave him direction in life where his natural parents had not. A few years later, after becoming one of the best players on a college football team, he decided to serve a mission. Before leaving on his mission, he gave copies of the Book of Mormon to his friends at school. This included his team coaches, fellow players, and teachers. He distributed more than 200 copies before entering the Missionary Training Center.