Gospel Story Finder

Of her first experience in the temple, Natalia Lorena Figueroa from Argentina said, “In the temple baptistry, I watched a brother be baptized for my grandfather and my uncles. Then I was baptized for my grandmother and aunts. The joy I felt was incredible. Tears fell from my eyes, and I felt the burning in my breast as never before.” Similar blessings await those who qualify for and use limited-use temple recommends.

In 1885, two missionaries went to Budapest, Hungary, but after a month with little success they left the country. Two years later, Hungarian Mischa Markow was converted near Constantinople (Istanbul) and returned to preach in his native land the following year, but he was banished from Hungary after being imprisoned. In 1900, Elder Markow and his companion preached in Temesvar, Hungary, until the government forced them to leave. The day before they left, they baptized 12 people and appointed leaders for a congregation of 31 members. Prior to World War I, a total of 106 people were baptized.

I have wanted to serve a mission since I was 8 years old. I am now 15 years old, and I want to serve the Lord. When I read “The Hope of a Missionary” in the July 2005 Liahona, I was inspired to begin preparing to serve. The young man in the story made many sacrifices to be able to serve, and I can do the same.
I want to express my gratitude for those who are involved in distributing the good news of the Liahona all over the world. It inspires us and can help us obtain great blessings.Julius J. Andrada Jr., Philippines

Some 30 years ago, while working in the corporate world, some business associates and I were passing through O’Hare Airport in Chicago, Illinois. One of these men had just sold his company for tens of millions of dollars—in other words, he was not poor.
As we were passing a newspaper vending machine, this individual put a quarter in the machine, opened the door to the stack of papers inside the machine, and began dispensing unpaid-for newspapers to each of us. When he handed me a newspaper, I put a quarter in the machine and, trying not to offend but to make a point, jokingly said, “Jim, for 25 cents I can maintain my integrity. A dollar, questionable, but 25 cents—no, not for 25 cents.” You see, I remembered well the experience of three towels and a broken-down 1941 Hudson.
A few minutes later we passed the same newspaper vending machine. I noticed that Jim had broken away from our group and was stuffing quarters in the vending machine. I tell you this incident not to portray myself as an unusual example of honesty, but only to emphasize the lessons of three towels and a 25-cent newspaper.

Church meetings were held in a grove of trees where often thousands of people would gather to hear the Prophet and others speak. The speakers sat on a portable platform; the audience rested on split logs, on bricks, or on the grass.
Once Chief Keokuk and about one hundred chiefs and braves and their families of the Sac and Fox Indian Tribes crossed the Mississippi on ferries and two flatboards to call on the Prophet. Joseph escorted them, while a marching band played, to the grove, and then he preached to them about the Book of Mormon and its promises.
After the Prophet spoke, Chief Keokuk said, “I believe you are a great and good man. … We intend to quit fighting, and follow the good talk you have given us.”*

I distinctly remember my mother telling me in those early years that everything I said or thought or did was in some almost magical way recorded—that someday I would have to be judged according to what I had said, thought, and done. This did not frighten me, but it gave me a growing sense of responsibility for my actions.

I was a little curious when my mission president announced we were going to have a white Christmas. In Chile, December is the hottest time of year. President Wilcox explained that some families of missionaries in our mission had donated enough money that every missionary companionship could give a set of white temple clothes to a worthy, but needy, member for Christmas.
My companion and I immediately thought of the same person. This brother came from a tough background. He had made some big changes to be able to be baptized and later receive his own endowment. He remained faithful and active even when most of his family had not.
The day we visited him and entered his humble home we could feel hopelessness and despair. A recent death in the family, along with the usual economic problems that filled their lives, had left the home void of the Christmas spirit. We had brought the temple clothes with us but didn’t want to give them to him in front of the rest of his family. I silently prayed for a chance to give him our gift in private. Almost instantly the family began to disperse, leaving us alone.
I said, “Hermano, we have a special gift for you.”
He said, “Elders, you are kind, but I do not need charity.”
I explained how some families of missionaries had donated funds so that we could give him his own set of temple clothing. My companion held out the package. The brother didn’t say a word. His breathing became a little louder, and tears began to fall from his eyes.
After a while he lifted his head and said, “How can anyone tell me the Church is not true? I’ve been saving a little money for quite a while so I could buy my own temple clothes. When I finally had enough, my cousin told me he was going to the temple, and he is even poorer than I am. I decided he needed temple clothing more than I did, so I recently gave him a set. Now here are you two missionaries giving me the very gift I just sacrificed to give to my cousin. How can anyone tell me the Church is not true?”
He stood and gave my companion and me heartfelt hugs. What an amazing feeling. I think we floated home that evening. We also floated off our seats the following Sunday when this brother came to church with five of his inactive family members.
December 25 was a hot summer day in Chile, but we had a white Christmas I will never forget.
Treagan White served in the Chile Santiago East Mission; he is a member of the Dillingham Alaska Branch, Anchorage Alaska Bush District.

This past January our family suffered the tragic loss of our grandson Nathan in an airplane crash. Nathan had served in the Russian-speaking Baltic Mission. He loved the people and knew it was a privilege to serve the Lord. Three months after I officiated at his eternal marriage to his sweetheart, Jennifer, this accident took his life. Nathan’s being taken so suddenly from our mortal presence has turned each of our hearts and minds to the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. While it is impossible for me to put into words the full meaning of the Atonement of Christ, I pray that I can explain what His Atonement means to me and our family and what it might also mean to you and yours.
The Savior’s precious birth, life, Atonement in the Garden of Gethsemane, suffering on the cross, burial in Joseph’s tomb, and glorious Resurrection all became a renewed reality for us. The Savior’s Resurrection assures all of us that someday we too will follow Him and experience our own resurrection. What peace, what comfort this great gift is which comes through the loving grace of Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of all mankind. Because of Him we know we can be with Nathan again.
When I think of Nathan and how precious he is to us, I can see and feel more clearly how our Heavenly Father must feel about all of His children. We do not want God to weep because we did not do all we could to share with His children the revealed truths of the gospel. I pray that every one of our youth will seek to know the blessings of the Atonement and that they will strive to be worthy to serve the Lord in the mission field. Surely many more senior couples and others whose health will permit would eagerly desire to serve the Lord as missionaries if they would ponder over the meaning of the atoning sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. It was Jesus who said, “If … you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!” (D&C 18:15; emphasis added). Not only that, but great shall be the Lord’s joy in the soul that repenteth, for precious unto Him is the one.
In our sorrow over the separation from our dear Nathan has come the peace that only the Savior and Redeemer can give. Our family has turned to Him one by one, and we now sing with greater appreciation and understanding:
Oh, it is wonderful that he should care for me
Enough to die for me!
Oh, it is wonderful, wonderful to me!
[“I Stand All Amazed,” Hymns, no. 193]

Yes, the possibilities are almost unlimited—and growing bigger minute by minute. For example, with the proper “connections,” you may soon be able to send instantaneous messages to anyone else in the world who has a computer like yours. Your first step would be to type in some key word, such as SPECIAL DELIVERY, after which the computer would ask you for the person’s “address,” probably some code number. Then, after typing out your message, you would instruct the computer to send it on its way with another key word such as RUSH. Before you could blink, the message would be at its destination. But what if the person you were writing to weren’t home? Just like a letter, your message would be stored in an electric “mailbox” in a large central computer somewhere, awaiting your friend’s return so he could instruct his computer to OPEN MAIL.

I attended a funeral today
for the two best friends
I ever had.
We worked together
and played together.
They were there when
I hit home runs
and climbed trees.
But now their soles
are laid to rest.
And in my mind
A dirge resounds
as the garbage truck
pulls away.

In his October 2022 general conference talk, President Russell M. Nelson described a tour group coming through a temple open house. A young boy was there. President Nelson taught:
“When the tour group entered an endowment room, the boy pointed to the altar, where people kneel to make covenants with God, and said, ‘Oh, that’s nice. Here is a place for people to rest on their temple journey.’
“… He likely had no idea about the direct connection between making a covenant with God in the temple and the Savior’s stunning promise:
“‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest?.
“‘Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; … and ye shall find rest unto your souls.
“‘For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light’ [Matthew 11:28–30; emphasis added].”

The ancient moralist Aesop used to illustrate the strength of synergism by holding up one stick and asking for a volunteer among his listeners who thought he could break it. Of course, the volunteer was able to break one stick easily. Then Aesop would put more sticks together until the volunteer was unable to break them. The moral to Aesop’s demonstration was simple: Together we generate synergism, which makes us much stronger than when we stand alone.

Now go back again with me in your thoughts to the church building about which we spoke earlier with its sign of “Spiritual Fuel Available—No Rationing—No Stamps—No Quotas—Come and Prepare.” Each one of us undoubtedly has a different building in mind. Perhaps yours is the one you attend most frequently—your own ward or branch.
The one I have in mind today is the Masterton Ward in the Wellington New Zealand Stake. We had the opportunity of dedicating this choice house of worship in February. Never have I been in a building so immaculately clean. It looked new. It smelled new. It was beautiful in its appropriate simplicity. It was worthy in appearance to be dedicated to the Lord. It was built by our people.
It was paid for by our people. It was polished to a fine finish by hands that took pride. It was tastefully landscaped and structurally sound. According to the town mayor, a nonmember, it was built by people who are happy. Three weeks before our arrival it was predicted by some that it couldn’t possibly be ready for dedication. Those so inclined to doubt didn’t know this good bishop and his ward family—people of humble circumstances but powerfully committed. Walls were painted, floors waxed, and so on by parents when their children had been put to sleep for the night. Young boys, appropriately encouraged, carried buckets of water to make the lawns green and the flowers bloom around the chapel, because New Zealand had been long without rain. It was not only completed, it was shining! Here was a group of people accumulating oil for their lamps a drop at a time through sacrifice, preparation, cooperation, faith, and works. As these ward members worked together to meet the midnight hour, their love for each other was nurtured. They, too, shined in their triumph.

While in South America, I was touched by the sacrifices made by many of our Saints to have their families sealed to them for eternity. I shed tears of gratitude as I heard some of the experiences recounted.
One of our stake presidents brought his family to the São Paulo Temple from Lima, Peru. It is normally a nine-day bus ride, but, because of bus strikes and other problems, the journey took them fourteen days of travel.
Upon their arrival at São Paulo, the family went to the first session they could, and the sealing ceremony was performed. Then they immediately prepared to leave. The temple president asked them if they were staying the night. The father replied that the family had to leave immediately since they did not have sufficient money for lodging and food. He said that they would have to travel several days without food as it was. That represents the spirit of sacrifice of many of our Saints worldwide.

The Holy Ghost brings comfort and strength to the grieving parents of a little boy who died in an accident.

The other night I sat in my little study in my apartment and began reminiscing, and I counted ten families that I’d been instrumental in bringing into the Church, and I’ve lived long enough to see their sons go on missions. I checked with just one of those families here just a few years back when I had to give a talk at a Brigham Young University banquet for the Indians. At that time there were 153 direct descendants of that one family alone. Thirty-five of them had filled full-term missions, and four had done stake missionary work. If you gave them two years apiece, that would be seventy years of missionary service out of that one family, without counting all the converts that their converts had made. And then one family kept two Indian children in their home—one boy they kept for eight years; he was then in the mission field, and they were paying for his mission. When my companion and I brought that family into the Church, we couldn’t look ahead seventy years and see what would become of them.

In 1864, Joseph A. Young was called on a special mission to transact Church business in the East. His father, President Brigham Young, blessed him to go and return in safety. As he was returning, he was involved in a severe train wreck. “The whole train was smashed,” he reported, “including the car I was in to within one seat of where I sat, [but] I escaped without a scratch.”4

On the Ides of March, 44 B.C., because sixty members of the Roman senate had plotted to take his life, and after Cassius and Brutus stabbed him on the senate floor that day, Julius Caesar fell and bled to death at the foot of the marble statue of Pompey. This was ironic because it was Pompey whom Caesar fought and defeated. It was Pompey who began an initial monarchial control over the Roman government. Through him the seeds of dictatorship over the empire were sown. Although Pompey did not abandon the Roman republican government, he did in reality become the chief power in the state. Without him the senate had become helpless. And now on this fateful day, Caesar, who totally ended the Roman republican government by his overwhelming dictatorship, lay dead. The effects of his leadership were to be felt from then on in the Roman Empire.
After Caesar’s assassination it was inevitable that some form of monarchial government would continue. The republic itself had died and couldn’t be revived. It was Caesar’s successor, Octavian, who was later given the title Augustus, the name by which he is generally referred to, who was called “Princeps” or “first citizen of Rome.” He was named in an official senate memorial “The Father of His Country;” and it was with his reign that all subsequent history of the Roman imperial government for three hundred years was designated as the Principate (the tenure of office of the Princeps). Augustus was the so-called first emperor of Rome and was the reigning monarch when Jesus Christ was born. The following are the names of all the emperors from Augustus to Domitian, who was the emperor at the time of the writing of Revelation:

A classic account of judging by appearance was printed in a national magazine many years ago. It is a true account—one which you may have heard but which bears repeating.
A woman by the name of Mary Bartels had a home directly across the street from the entrance to a hospital clinic. Her family lived on the main floor and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at the clinic.
One evening a truly awful-looking old man came to the door asking if there was room for him to stay the night. He was stooped and shriveled, and his face was lopsided from swelling—red and raw. He said he’d been hunting for a room since noon but with no success. “I guess it’s my face,” he said. “I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says it could possibly improve after more treatments.” He indicated he’d be happy to sleep in the rocking chair on the porch. As she talked with him, Mary realized this little old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. Although her rooms were filled, she told him to wait in the chair and she’d find him a place to sleep.
At bedtime Mary’s husband set up a camp cot for the man. When she checked in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and he was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, he asked if he could return the next time he had a treatment. “I won’t put you out a bit,” he promised. “I can sleep fine in a chair.” Mary assured him he was welcome to come again.
In the several years he went for treatments and stayed in Mary’s home, the old man, who was a fisherman by trade, always had gifts of seafood or vegetables from his garden. Other times he sent packages in the mail.
When Mary received these thoughtful gifts, she often thought of a comment her next-door neighbor made after the disfigured, stooped old man had left Mary’s home that first morning. “Did you keep that awful-looking man last night? I turned him away. You can lose customers by putting up such people.”
Mary knew that maybe they had lost customers once or twice, but she thought, “Oh, if only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear.”
After the man passed away, Mary was visiting with a friend who had a greenhouse. As she looked at her friend’s flowers, she noticed a beautiful golden chrysanthemum but was puzzled that it was growing in a dented, old, rusty bucket. Her friend explained, “I ran short of pots, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, until I can put it out in the garden.”
Mary smiled as she imagined just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when He came to the soul of the little old man. “He won’t mind starting in this small, misshapen body.” But that was long ago, and in God’s garden how tall this lovely soul must stand!

A story is told of a woman who was upset that her son was eating too much candy. No matter how much she told him to stop, he continued to satisfy his sweet tooth. Totally frustrated, she decided to take her son to see a wise man whom he respected.
She approached him and said, “Sir, my son eats too much candy. Would you please tell him to stop eating it?”
He listened carefully then said to her son, “Go home and come back in two weeks.”
She took her son and went home, perplexed why he had not asked the boy to stop eating so much candy.
Two weeks later they returned. The wise man looked directly at the boy and said, “Boy, you should stop eating so much candy. It is not good for your health.”
The boy nodded and promised he would.
The boy’s mother asked, “Why didn’t you tell him that two weeks ago?”
The wise man smiled. “Two weeks ago I was still eating too much candy myself.”
This man lived with such integrity that he knew his advice would carry power only if he was following his own counsel.