Gospel Story Finder

It was only a few days ago that a great stake president told of his distress when his son got a C- on his report card. He took the boy into the study and showed him the card. “What do you see on this card?” he said sternly. “Well, Dad, I see three A’s,” the boy said. I suppose a father has to be aware of the C’s and that it is in the nature of the boy to see the A’s. In understanding this, both will be additionally blessed.

In one stake they made sure that 100+ children seeking asylum received a Christmas gift. Sisters were busy crocheting, quilting, sewing, making handmade blankets, papooses for babies, teddy bears and knitted premature baby cocoons, and vegetable decorations. Other members participated in sponsored runs for foreign children in need. Sisters made baby blankets and hats and gave nappies and baby clothes to a local maternity clinic. In the Edinburgh Scotland Stake, over 100 members teamed up with Save the Children and Amazon to help organise the delivery of essentials and comfort packs for 2,000 children.

We met that Christmas day in Portugal with the other missionaries in our zone, exchanging gifts and enjoying the holiday together. Although the rain outside the Porto chapel hadn’t dampened our spirits, something did seem to be missing. My companion and I decided to visit our investigators and sing Christmas songs. Everyone else liked the idea, too, and soon we were all gathering our raincoats, umbrellas, scriptures, and hymnbooks.
The first group we visited lived close to the city center in an abandoned monastery. They were Portuguese families who had lived in Africa, but the civil wars had forced them to flee to Portugal. They had been wealthy in Africa but now had almost nothing.
We climbed the creaky stairs of the monastery as the roof leaked big drops of water on our heads. As we began to sing, the children, with bright eyes, came out first, followed shortly by their parents. Soon all the inhabitants of the monastery were listening to our Christmas songs. Some tried to sing along but didn’t know all the words. The rain seemed to accompany the songs as background music, and then our tears began mingling with the rain as the Spirit bore witness to us that we were all truly brothers and sisters.
We left some church pamphlets, encouraged our investigators to continue with the discussions, and invited all to attend our church meetings.

What he was and had accomplished excited in me the desire to emulate him. For example, his fireside talks and frequent references to his mission in Hawaii and the beloved Hawaiian people created in me a singular desire to serve a mission in Hawaii. I even purchased a ukulele with a Hawaiian songbook and taught myself to play some songs. Hawaii, its people and music, are still a part of me.

The teaching of Mary Bommeli touched more than those women around the loom and the judge. My father, her grandson, talked to me during the nights as he approached death. He spoke of joyous reunions that were coming soon in the spirit world. I could almost see the bright sunlight and the smiles in that place of paradise as he talked about it with such assurance.

At one point, I asked him if he had some repenting to do. He smiled. He chuckled softly as he said, “No, Hal, I’ve been repenting as I went along.” The doctrine of paradise that Mary Bommeli taught those women was real to her grandson. And even the doctrine Mary taught the judge had shaped my father’s life for good. That will not be the end of Mary Bommeli’s teaching. The record of her words will send true doctrine to generations of her family yet unborn. Because she believed that even a new convert knew enough doctrine to teach it, the minds and hearts of her descendants will be opened, and they will be strengthened in the battle.

While none of those people have started seriously investigating the Church yet, when I would talk to them about the gospel, the conversation would lead to more questions. When I gave a girl in my English class a card, she got excited about it, so I gave her a Joseph Smith pamphlet, too. I later found out that she gave the pamphlet to a friend at the same time that her friend received a Book of Mormon from another seminary student.

Earlier, while waiting for his race, David explained that he has been riding for several years in bush league races in the Intermountain West. He used to receive $10 a race. Last spring he won his first race on a recognized track and began his apprenticeship. By June he will be a journeyman jockey.
During the years on the small tracks, he watched his weight carefully, never exceeding by much the 98-pound limit that is the requirement for a jockey.

“She is the type of child any parent would want to have,” Uncle Isaac says. “She likes being honest. If she does something wrong, she tells the truth about it.” He shares other examples of her honesty. When a schoolteacher gave her too high a mark by mistake, she took the paper back to the teacher and corrected the error. Another time, she came home from buying yams and realized that she still had all the money. She immediately returned to the yam vendor and paid for her purchase. The lady was so pleased that she gave Adjoa a free piece of meat.

The story is told of two outdoor enthusiasts who hired a bush plane to fly them to a remote lake for their annual fishing trip. Following a successful outing, the pilot returned to retrieve them. However, he quickly informed the fishermen that his small plane would not support them, their equipment, and the added weight of the fish they had caught. A second flight would be required.
Now, the sportsmen were not interested in paying for a second round-trip. So after a promise to pack tightly and a small bonus payment, the pilot reluctantly agreed to attempt the flight.
The fishermen grinned knowingly as the pilot forced the aircraft into the air. However, seconds later the plane stalled and crashed into a large, flat swampy area at the end of the lake.
The plane had stalled as it flew because of a well-known phenomenon called “ground effect.” Ground effect creates added lift on an airplane when air is compressed between the aircraft’s wings and the earth’s surface—when they are in close proximity. In this case, as the bush plane inched its way upward out of ground effect, it was required to fly on its own lift and power, which it simply could not do.
Fortunately there were no serious injuries, and after regaining their senses, one of the fishermen asked the other, “What happened?” The second replied, “We crashed on takeoff—about a hundred yards (91 m) from where we ended up last year!”

Years ago, a woman named Jacqueline Langey-Johnson moved into our neighborhood. She is a caretaker for two young women with developmental disabilities. As a couple, we wondered if Jacqueline might have a difficult time taking care of her property while caring for these young women. We decided to introduce ourselves and see how we could help.
We had a wonderful conversation during which we told Jacqueline we would be delighted to help her with some yard work. She gratefully accepted our offer and told us how difficult it was for her to get outside and do yard work since she couldn’t leave the young women alone in the house.
The Lord was very aware of Jacqueline’s situation and used us to help her find joy in her new home and feel welcomed in the neighborhood. We were thrilled at the chance to serve her and develop a forever friendship.
We soon discovered that Jacqueline was a devout Christian who loved reading about the Savior. So during one of our conversations, we gave her a Come, Follow Me—For Individuals and Families: New Testament manual. Jacqueline absolutely loved the material in the manual and the creative way it was presented—it made reading the New Testament enjoyable and easy to understand.
One day about two years ago, Jacqueline asked if the full-time missionaries could come to her home and teach her more about the Church using the Come, Follow Me manual. Alongside the full-time missionaries, we started having weekly discussions with her. After four months, she wanted to be baptized. She asked me (Bob) to perform the ordinance and my wife (Judy) to be a witness.
Since her baptism in September 2020, Jacqueline has served as a sacrament meeting greeter, assisted the full-time missionaries in teaching others, counseled young adults in our ward with developmental disabilities, met with the full-time missionaries weekly to learn more about the Church, and identified several of her ancestors who need temple ordinance work performed for them. She also currently serves in the Denver Colorado Temple.

Religious persecution in England continued under James’s son Charles, and many were prompted to seek freedom in new lands. Among them were the Pilgrims, who landed in the Americas in 1620, the very part of the world Columbus had explored over 100 years earlier. Other colonists soon followed, including those like Roger Williams, founder and later governor of Rhode Island, who continued to search for Christ’s true Church. Williams said that there was no regularly constituted church of Christ on earth, nor any person authorized to administer any church ordinance, nor could there be until new Apostles were sent by the great Head of the church, for whose coming he was seeking.

As I discussed this scripture with members of our family, they recalled that “men are, that they might have joy” (2 Ne. 2:25), but they had not pondered the intriguing concept that “joy cometh in the morning.”
One of our family said, “News reports appear almost daily concerning people who have problems with drugs, drinking, and emotional distress. How can they, and we, attain the joy spoken of in the scriptures?”
“The gospel of Jesus Christ offers hope,” I answered. “It declares joy to be part of our divine destiny. And to experience joy in the morning becomes our special challenge. The true test,” I continued, “is to be able to look in the mirror, first thing in the morning, and feel real joy.”
One of our daughters, who had recently announced that she was expecting a new addition to the family, said, “But Dad, that’s the hardest time of the day for me!”
“My dear ones,” I replied, “in order to experience true joy in the morning, or at any time, at least three factors are needed. You need to feel good about the people with whom you live and work—your companions in life. You must feel good about yourself—not in any sense of conceit, but simply a proper esteem for yourself, well deserved. And possibly most important, you must feel good about your relation to God and sincerely love him.”
As I so counseled my family in that conversation, we all might consider those three steps to achieve real joy in life.

Thelma Taylor was happy with her calling at her local family history center in Mesa, Arizona, USA. For 17 years she assisted, guided, and supported men and women in their quests to find their ancestors. A move to Coolidge, Arizona, in 2005, however, put 40 miles (64 km) between her and the family history center whose patrons she had faithfully served.

Nearly blind and unable to drive, the 83-year-old woman feared her inability to travel to Mesa would mean the end of her family history service. Then a thoughtful leader offered a solution to this problem in the form of a Church-service mission Sister Taylor could perform from home. Since 2006 she has served as a FamilySearch Support missionary for the Church, using her home computer to help people do their family history work.

“It has blessed me beyond my ability to count all the blessings,” she says of her experience. “I’ve grown so much in that area in family history and in my ability to serve.”

Though her eyesight is poor, Sister Taylor—who now supports six fellow missionaries—can increase the font size on her computer enough to read patrons’ e-mails and respond to their questions.

Sister Taylor didn’t learn how to operate a computer until she was 66 years old, but she says it is a beneficial, useful skill. “Your age doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re not too old to learn how to use a computer.”

“This is an ideal situation for me because I can continue to learn and serve,” Sister Taylor said. She said her Church-service mission has helped her to feel useful at an age when her options are limited.

The work is fulfilling and contagious. “The spirit of this work gets into you and doesn’t turn you loose,” Sister Taylor said. “No matter your age, you can be of real service as a FamilySearch Support missionary.”

Gordon’s mother told him if he would finish his chores, she would make him a pie. His favorite kind. Just for him. Gordon went to work on getting those chores done, and his mother rolled out the pie. His older sister Kathy came into the house with a friend. She saw the pie and asked if she and her friend could have a slice.
“No,” said Gordon, “it’s my pie. Mom baked it for me, and I had to earn it.”
Kathy snapped at her little brother. He was so self-centered and ungenerous. How could he keep this all to himself?
Hours later when Kathy opened the car door to take her friend home, there on the seat were two napkins folded nicely, two forks set on top, and two wide pieces of pie on plates. Kathy told this story at Gordon’s funeral to show how he was willing to change and show kindness to those who didn’t always deserve it.

The team effort of these friends was tested in their last month of school when, with only a week’s notice, their club adviser asked them to organize a food drive, which they carried out with success.

Elder Paul Christianson came from snowy Chicago to our home in Slidell, Louisiana. He grinned a lot as he taught my husband gospel discussions, but one day he revealed that he missed his mom. She’d been dead for two years, he said. He’d gone on a mission because of her.
Paul’s dad had died when he and his little sister were young. His mom went to work at a small factory across town, working the evening shift. Despite her meager salary, she managed to set aside a few dollars every week for Paul’s mission.
Paul said he didn’t worry much about being poor. Sure, he and his sister wore hand-me-downs, and they didn’t often have the money to go to movies, but his mom always made sure they had enough to eat. “The Lord will provide,” she always said, and Paul believed her.
Everything was fine until seventh grade, when Paul decided to try out for the track team. At the meeting, the coach announced that everyone had to wear a track suit to the tryouts, which would be held in two weeks. No suit, no tryout. Paul’s heart sank. He didn’t have a track suit, and he knew his mom didn’t have the money to buy one. Hesitantly, he asked her if they could borrow from his mission fund.
She smiled and shook her head. “Son, we’ve put that money away for a special purpose. If we remember the Lord first, He’ll take care of everything we really need.” Paul wondered if the Lord took care of track suits.
Since she was so insistent that he exercise faith, he ran track in a pair of cutoff jeans every day after school. He worried about what he’d wear when the big day arrived.
His mom worried, too. She mentioned the problem to her supervisor at work, who managed to scrounge up some fabric from home. Every night as Paul’s mom rode the bus across the long miles to their apartment, she hand-sewed a track suit to surprise her son.
The tryouts approached, and Paul ran and ran. His mom sewed and sewed. On the night before the tryouts she sat in the bus, putting the last few stitches into the track suit. It began to snow, and the bus grew cold. The tired woman fell asleep with the track suit cradled in her lap.
She woke up when the bus pulled into the terminal. It was one o’clock in the morning. The bus driver hadn’t noticed her in the back of the bus. He said he was sorry she’d missed her stop because no more buses would run that night. She got off and began to walk home through the snow.
She walked all night, and finally arrived at the apartment at 7:00 A.M. Her children were getting ready for school. With a weary smile, she drew Paul into her arms and kissed him.
“Tryouts are today, aren’t they, son?” she asked.
He nodded and looked at his feet. “I decided not to try out,” he said.
“Not try out? After all the running you’ve done?”
He told us he didn’t have the heart to remind her that he couldn’t try out without a track suit. She’d feel bad that she hadn’t been able to afford one. Maybe she’d feel bad that the Lord hadn’t provided, after all.
“Shut your eyes and hold out your hands,” she said.
His heart leaped in sudden hope. Had she been able to get him a suit after all? Holding his breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and held out his hands. He felt her place something soft and flimsy in them. He opened his eyes.
There in his hands was a polyester track suit. A bright-orange polyester track suit. The orangest, brightest, most electrifying track suit he’d ever seen in his life. The school colors were red and silver. No way would anyone believe this suit was red.
He gulped. His mom looked at him out of shining, worried eyes. “Do you like it, son?” she whispered.
“I … like it more than anything,” he said, and then he hugged her tight. He kissed her cold cheek and then went to try on his orange track suit.
Paul told us everyone laughed at him when he walked onto the track that afternoon. He almost fled back to the locker room, but then he remembered his mother’s small, cold hands and the anxious look in her eyes. He pictured her walking across town through the snow, clutching the suit she’d made on the bus.
His cheeks bright red, he put his head down, toed the chalk line, and when the starting pistol cracked he ran like the wind. He didn’t pay attention to the other runners—all he could think of was getting off that track as fast as he could.
Someone in the crowd yelled, “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a jet-powered jack-o-lantern!” Everyone laughed again. Paul said he felt as if he’d been shot.
He leaned into the final turn, knees pumping, elbows like pistons. He heard someone coming up behind him. In a final burst of speed he lunged over the finish line and kept running straight to the locker room.
Later he learned that he’d set the fastest time in the 440 in school history. He’d not only made the track team; he would soon become one of its star runners. The coach provided him a red and silver track suit emblazoned with the school name. He wore it with pride for three years.
But folded into the bottom of the battered old suitcase he carried on his mission was a bright orange track suit. Every time he touched it, he felt his mom’s small, cold hands again and knew she’d given him a gift much greater than a track suit. She’d given him the gift of faith in the Lord’s ability to provide what he really needed. She’d given him the faith to eventually serve a mission.
And maybe, just maybe, she’d given him a little extra speed.

Our journey to the temple started by sacrificing a lot of things. We knew that the Church was going to pay for many of our expenses, but we still needed to come up with money to pay for our visas, and for food, housing, and garments.
To raise all these funds, we had to sell our wedding rings and some other gold pieces that we had. It did not yield much money, maybe about almost $500 Eastern Caribbean Dollars. That still wasn’t sufficient. We still didn’t have enough money. A missionary couple gave us $400 US that covered the cost of our lodging on the temple grounds and our visas. The $500 EC had to be changed to US dollars for us to change to pesos to buy food when we arrived in Santo Domingo.

C. Ralph Taylor of the Richmond Second Ward, Richmond Virginia Stake, has excelled in many areas. He was a straight-A student in high school and graduated with honors.
He also has had perfect four-year attendance at seminary. He not only never missed, he was always on time and picked up two other students each morning as well.
His seminary teacher said of Ralph, “He is an exceptional student both in seminary and at Monacan High School. He knows how to set goals and priorities to lengthen his stride.”

Illustrations by Alyssa Tallent
“Estas son las mañanitas …”
The sound of Mamá’s singing woke Ingrid up. She opened her eyes and saw Mamá coming into her room. Mamá always sang her a special birthday song on her birthday.
“Feliz cumpleaños!” Mamá said. “Let’s get ready for your party.”
Ingrid could smell a chocolate cake baking in the oven. I wonder what presents I’ll get! she thought. She climbed out of bed and looked out the window. The jacaranda tree outside was full of purple flowers.
Ingrid helped push the sofa into Mamá’s room so there was lots of space in the living room. She helped frost the cake and stuck seven candles on top. Soon it was time for the party!
Ingrid’s friends from school and Primary came. They played games and ate cake. Then came Ingrid’s favorite part—presents! She got a new book, a stuffed tiger, and a charm bracelet.
After everyone left, Ingrid gave Mamá a hug. “Thank you, Mamá. That was the best birthday ever!”
“It’s not over yet,” Mamá said. “I have a special surprise for you.” She handed Ingrid a slip of paper. It said, “Time for bed!”
“It’s a clue,” Mamá explained. “You have to find the next one.”
Ingrid hurried to her bedroom. She found another slip of paper under her pillow. It said, “Laundry day.”
Ingrid ran to the kitchen and opened the washing machine. Another clue!
Ingrid found more clues behind the TV, inside her favorite book, and under the bathroom rug. The last clue led to her closet. Up on the shelf was a wrapped box. Ingrid wasn’t tall enough, so Mamá got it down for her.
Ingrid tore off the paper and lifted the lid. Inside the box was some folded white fabric and a big copy of the Book of Mormon.
“Next year, you can be baptized,” Mamá said. “This is a special gift to help you get ready.” Mamá touched the white fabric. “This is what I’ll use to make your baptism dress. And this”—she picked up the Book of Mormon—“is for you to read.”
Ingrid looked up at Mamá. “I’ve never read the whole Book of Mormon.”
“I know you can do it.” Mamá flipped the book open. “Look. The letters are extra big. I thought that might make it easier.”
Mamá closed the book again and handed it to Ingrid. Ingrid ran her fingers over the smooth cover.
“It’s important that you find out for yourself if the Book of Mormon is true,” Mamá said. “I promise that if you read and pray with all your heart, Heavenly Father will help you know.”
That night Ingrid read the first chapter of the Book of Mormon. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. She liked reading the scriptures.
She read her Book of Mormon again the next day. And the next. She read it every day. After a few weeks, she decided she didn’t want to wait till the end of the book to pray about it.
Ingrid knelt by her bed. She prayed with all her heart and asked Heavenly Father to help her know that the Book of Mormon was true. Then she waited. She thought she might hear a voice, but she didn’t. Instead, a happy feeling grew in her heart. She knew Heavenly Father was answering her prayer.
Almost a year later, Ingrid finished reading the Book of Mormon. She knew that no matter what she got for her eighth birthday, the Book of Mormon would always be one of her favorite gifts!
This story took place in Mexico. Go to page 14 to learn more about that country!

On my mission in New Zealand, I served in another small branch. They didn’t have anyone to play the piano. So I played the organ and the piano for a year. Working through my fear was a blessing for me. It allowed me to bless others.