Gospel Story Finder

I recently met a sister in Mexico who understands what it means to magnify her calling with faith. Marffissa Maldonado was called to teach a youth Sunday School class three years ago. She had 7 students attending when she was called, but she now has 20 who attend regularly. I asked her, in amazement, what she had done to bring about such an increase in numbers. She modestly said, “Oh, it wasn’t just me. All the class members helped.” Together, they saw the names of the less-actives on the roll and began to go out together and invite them to come back to church. They have also had a baptism because of their efforts.

Sister Maldonado set up a social media site just for her class members called “I Am a Child of God,” and she posts inspirational thoughts and scriptures several times a week. She regularly texts her students with assignments and encouragement. She feels it is important to communicate in the ways they best relate to, and it is working. She told me simply, “I love my students.” I could feel that love as she told me of their efforts, and her example reminded me of what one person of faith and action can accomplish in this work with the help of the Lord.

One of our young single adults mentioned that “This weekend has helped me increase in confidence when speaking with others. I was thrown into situations where I had to think on my feet and all I could do was trust in what I had learned, studied, and most especially in Christ. We can trust in him no matter what and it will always work out.”

My family recently moved to a branch in a neighboring stake. Being the only branch member who can play the piano, I was called as pianist for sacrament meetings. Up to this time, I’ve only played classical and popular tunes. The challenge to learn hymns quickly has been a struggle. Now, rather than hearing applause for my playing, I hear the beautiful voices of the branch members as they sing the hymns in praise of our Heavenly Father.
Robyn P., 18, Tennessee, USA

On the Go with Pirate Pete and Pirate Joe, by A. E. Cannon, illustrated by Elwood H. Smith. Pete and Joe are always ready for swashbuckling action. Join them on their pirate adventures as they look for a ship, have a seafood dinner, and find the perfect pet.

One night, my family was playing a game about geography. My sister and I were playing against our two brothers. There was an outline of the United States on the game board. The person whose turn it was had to name the state my dad pointed to. If that person couldn’t answer the question, his or her partner could help. There was a U.S. map on the wall, but we weren’t supposed to look at it during our turn. Once while my sister was trying to remember her state, I glanced at the map and saw the name of the state next to hers.
Soon Dad pointed at the state that I had seen, and I named it. I felt bad. I knew that I shouldn’t have looked. After we named all the states we could, my dad added up the points. We got eleven points, and my dad was about to write it down, but I said, “No, ten points! I looked at the map.”
My dad said, “Wow, thanks for being honest.”
We still lost the game, but I was happy that I told the truth.

Here is an inspiring story that demonstrates how one family made peacemaking a family affair, putting these principles into practice.
Children in this family were struggling in their relationship with an adult whose demeanor was often grumpy, condescending, and curt. The children, hurt and frustrated, began to wonder if the only way forward was to mirror that same mean-spirited behavior.
One evening the family spoke openly together about the tension and the toll it was taking. And then an idea emerged—not just a solution but an experiment.
Instead of responding with silence or retaliation, the children would do something unexpected: they would respond with kindness. Not just polite restraint but a deliberate, heartfelt outpouring of kind words and thoughtful deeds, no matter how they were treated in return. All agreed to try it for a set time, after which they’d regroup and reflect.
Though some were hesitant at first, they committed to the plan with genuine hearts.
What happened next was nothing short of remarkable.
The cold exchanges began to thaw. Smiles replaced scowls. The adult, once distant and harsh, began to change. The children, empowered by their choice to lead with love, found joy in the transformation. The change was so profound that the planned follow-up meeting was never needed. Kindness had done its quiet work.
In time, true bonds of friendship were formed, lifting everyone. To be peacemakers, we forgive others and deliberately build others up instead of tearing them down.

My name is William Paul McCallister, but everyone calls me Willy. I’m ten years old, and last year my parents decided that our family would go to general conference in Salt Lake City.
We live in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, so it was a long drive for us. Then we had to stand in line a long time—more than two hours—so that we could sit in the Tabernacle for the Saturday morning session. But it was all worth it. When I saw President Benson, I got a swelling in my chest, and my eyes got all watery, and I knew that he really was a prophet of God. I knew, too, that I should listen and do what he said because he spoke for Heavenly Father.
President Benson looked all around, then started to speak. He said that it was time for the earth to be flooded with the Book of Mormon and that it was the responsibility of every member to help.
Later, as we were driving home, our family talked about what we could do to follow the prophet. Mom suggested that we give copies of the Book of Mormon to the missionaries, with our pictures and testimonies inside. We did that the year before, and it was fun, but we didn’t hear from any of the people that got them.
Dad suggested that we give copies of it to some of our friends so that we would know the people who got them.
I thought about it a lot. There are so many people in the world! If I gave a Book of Mormon to someone, it would be like adding one little drop in a whole ocean of people. But I decided that lots of drops added together could flood the earth.
When we got home, I told Mom that I wanted to give a Book of Mormon to someone. She got me one, and I put my picture and my testimony inside it. I wrote that I knew that the Book of Mormon was true because Joseph Smith was a real prophet of God. I said that anyone who read the Book of Mormon and really wanted to know if it was true could pray and ask God, and the Spirit would let him know that it is true. Finally I signed my name. After I finished, I felt kind of scared because I really didn’t know who I was going to give it to.
The next day I put the Book of Mormon in my backpack and took it to school. I guess I expected somebody to just come up and ask me for it, but nobody did.
When I got home, Mom knew that I was discouraged. She said that if I prayed about it, Heavenly Father would help me to know whom to give the Book of Mormon to. So I prayed really hard. I told Heavenly Father that I would do whatever He wanted me to if He would just show me what to do. After I finished, I still didn’t know who to give the Book of Mormon to, but I knew that Heavenly Father was going to help me. I sure didn’t expect things to turn out like they did, though!
In the morning I put the book in my backpack again. During recess, I took it out and set it on my knees. I looked at it for a while, then opened it to my favorite scripture: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” [1 Ne. 3:7]. Right then I surely needed the Lord to provide a way for me to give that Book of Mormon to someone.
Suddenly a shadow fell across my book, and I looked up at a kid standing there. I had seen him lots of times before, but I didn’t know his name.
“What’re you reading?” he asked.
“The Book of Mormon.”
“Oh. You must be a Mormon,” he said. “My mother says that Mormons are pretty OK people, although she doesn’t believe that any church is the true church.”
“Well”—I hesitated, hoping that the Holy Ghost would help me know what to say—“that’s just because she doesn’t know about our church. We have a real prophet, and Jesus Christ is the head of the Church. He tells the prophet what to say to us.”
“Really? My mother says that even if there is a God, no one can really know for sure, because He doesn’t talk to people anymore.”
I took a deep breath and prayed for more help. “Don’t you think that God would want you to know that He exists and to know what He wants you to do?”
“I guess so.”
“A prophet tells people what God wants them to do,” I said.
“So what does your prophet tell you?” he asked.
I could tell that he didn’t believe me. I prayed really hard for help. “He says that we should study the Book of Mormon because it’s an inspired book of scripture and that a person can get close to God by reading it.”
“Is that what you’re reading?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Do you want to see it?”
“Sure.”
I handed him my Book of Mormon.
“I have one question,” he said. “How do you know that someone isn’t just trying to fool you with all that stuff about God and real prophets, like my mother says?”
“I’ll show you.” I was getting really excited. I reached over and turned to Moroni 10:4. When I found it, I read out loud:
“‘And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.’ See,” I said, “you don’t have to take my word for it. If you pray about it, you can find out for yourself if it’s true, because God will tell you. But you have to read it first.”
The boy looked at the scripture again and read it himself. Then he looked at me. “I wonder what my mother would say about this.”
“Well,” I said, “maybe you could ask her. You can have this Book of Mormon. Then she can read it, too, and find out if it’s true.”
Just then the bell rang, and he left with my Book of Mormon under his arm. I was feeling pretty happy as I went back inside the school. Then I realized that I still didn’t know his name and that if they asked me, I would have to tell Mom and Dad that I didn’t know who had gotten my Book of Mormon.
Then a couple of weeks later, the boy found me during recess and said that his name was Chris Brown and that his mother wanted to know more about the Church. That was six weeks ago. Now we’re friends, and tomorrow he and his whole family are being baptized.
I have another Book of Mormon in my backpack now.

When an administrator in Africa rode out to inspect land that had been devastated in a storm, he came to a place where giant cedars had been uprooted and destroyed. He said to his official in charge, “You will have to plant some cedars here.” The official replied, “It takes 2,000 years to grow cedars of the size these were. They don’t even bear cones until they’re 50 years old.”
“Then,” said the administrator, “we must plant them at once.” And this is the admonition to you.

Subject: Lisa
Age: 17 years
Event: Discussion with Kara in art class
“The face you’re painting is so beautiful,” Lisa said, admiring Kara’s oil portrait.
“Thanks.”
“But she looks a little lonely to me,” Lisa remarked.
“Oh no, she’s not lonely at all. With her looks, she’s always got boys around her.”
“I suppose so,” Lisa replied. “Still, there’s something sad about her.”
“No, she’s happy, just like me.”
“Well, you certainly have boys around you; that’s for sure.”
“You could, too,” Kara suggested.
“How?”
“Just be a little more like other girls. Being a genius in mathematics doesn’t help your chances.”
“I’m no genius. I just like it.”
“Sometimes it’s smart to play dumb around boys,” Kara advised.
“Somewhere there’s a boy who won’t be put down just because I have goals to improve.”
“Where is he?” Kara asked.
“I don’t know,” Lisa said glumly.
“He isn’t here in this school. Boys are afraid of you here.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“Face it, he doesn’t exist. Boys have to be superior. That’s how I get along so well with Larry, our football hero. He needs me to feed his ego.”
“It isn’t honest to pretend that you’re not smart.”
“Maybe not, but it gets dates. There are plenty of girls who’d love to go out with the great Larry Hill. But he’s all mine.”
The class bell rang, and they put away their paintings.
“Kara, maybe you’re seeing too much of Larry.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Once I heard him talking about you with some other boys in the hall.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got things under control. Say, let me ask Larry to get one of his friends to ask you out. There’s a party Friday night.”
Lisa thought for a moment and then said, “You know I’m a Mormon. Do you really think I’d fit in at one of your parties?”
“Do you always have to be so strict? Can’t you ever have any fun?”
“We have fun, Kara. It’s just a different kind of fun. Thanks for thinking of me, but I’d better not.”__________

The following week I found myself thinking again and again about what had happened. Everytime I recited the poem to myself I felt renewed strength and happiness. The things I had read about God were more than just words. He really did know each individual on the earth and cared about everyone of us. This experience made my scripture reading alive and meaningful. I knew it would have an effect on the church meetings I attended. It had even more of an effect, however, than I had anticipated.
Sunday arrived, and I sat in our branch sacrament room. The meeting started, and all joined in singing the opening hymn. I carefully followed the words as we sang a piece I had never heard or sung before. It was a strong and pretty melody. Finishing the second verse, the conductor cut us off and gave us the upbeat for the third verse. I started in with the rest of the congregation but suddenly stopped singing. My heart beat faster as I read the words. I looked away from the hymnbook and silently repeated the verse to myself: “Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed …”
Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt God speaking to me once again. Not only was his message poetic, but musical as well—a song of the spirit. I joined in with the rest, praising our Heavenly Father with this meaningful hymn. I knew I would never sing it again without being reminded of God’s concern for me.

Ariana Keith listens carefully at church. “I think many of our prayers are answered by speakers at church,” she said. “There was a time when I wanted my patriarchal blessing. Then the week before I was scheduled to get it, our stake patriarch actually came to our ward and spoke. I had been praying about it so hard, and hearing him was great.”

It did not help a lot when I read about the man who went to a doctor to find a cure for his inferiority complex. After a careful examination, the doctor told him, “You don’t have a complex. You really are inferior!”
With that for encouragement, I set about through life and determined to compensate in other ways.

Listen to the example of a young woman who wrote: “Right now in my family we are going through a tough time. I have been given the opportunity to fill my mother’s role. Sometimes I have to not participate in activities after school so I can care for my brother. Sometimes I have to not go out with my friends so that I can cook dinner or go grocery shopping.” Then she adds, “Because of this responsibility, I have learned a great deal about being a mother, growing up and taking responsibility, not only for myself but for others.”

For Donath Banamwana, his life’s path was very clear to him from an early age. His family was Catholic, the predominant religion in his home country of Rwanda. “Most Rwandan’s are very religious and over half of them are Catholic,” Donath noted.
It was a tradition in his village that every family would have at least one priest and he was very happy to take that responsibility for his family. “From the time that I was very young all I ever wanted was to be a priest,” he said, adding that all his education and life preparation was in anticipation of spending his life serving God in the priesthood.
During his late teenage years, he became confused by some of the things he heard and the feelings of doubt that continued to consume his thoughts. “I realized that I could not continue on this path, and I was devastated. I had spent my entire life preparing for this, and somehow God was preparing me for something else,” he said. But he did not know what path to take.
Donath struggled to determine what he would do with his life. Almost in desperation he decided that he would become a soldier in the Rwandan army. This was devastating for his family who were still disappointed that he had chosen not to enter the priesthood, and they were determined to do whatever it took to make sure he didn’t become a soldier.
They sent Donath to the Rwandan capital of Kigali where he had an uncle he could stay with. They hoped that he would take some time to think about his decisions. He got a job and settled into the area with his uncle’s family. One Sunday, his uncle asked him if he would like to attend church with him and his family. “I asked him what church and he said, ‘The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.’” He told his uncle he had never heard of this church but would like to attend.

Roberta Jensen sat on the airplane trying to feed her new baby and quiet her three other children—all under the age of four. She was exhausted and embarrassed and alone.
The passenger across the aisle was a tall, cheerful man in a dark suit who looked familiar. When she spoke to him, he introduced himself as Elder L. Tom Perry. “Oh!” she thought. “An Apostle right next to me! I wonder if he can feel the turmoil I’m in and read the feelings of my heart.”
As the plane took off, all four children started crying. Roberta’s embarrassment turned to panic. Suddenly Elder Perry put away his briefcase and asked gently, “May I hold the baby?” During the rest of the trip he cared for the baby, feeding him and rocking him to sleep, while the grateful mother calmed and fed the other children.
When dinner was served, she reached for the baby, but Elder Perry, still smiling, said the baby was sleeping peacefully and there was no need to disturb him.
“I survived the trip,” she says, “and retained a dear memory that will be a part of our family forever. Elder Perry saw someone in need of help and he set aside his own needs to give that help.”

Yesterday I had an interesting experience. There has been talk lately in some circles about ordaining women to the priesthood, and someone asked me how I felt about holding the priesthood. I said very stoutly, “I love holding the priesthood when he comes for dinner.” I know that isn’t very original, but that was my answer. Now with this release from sweet but demanding service, I have every intention of being there when my fine husband comes home and our precious family members gather.

In the Dominican Republic and Canada, Latter-day Saint women joined in commemorating International Women’s Day, an event sponsored by the United Nations. More than 1,200 women gathered in Church meetinghouses in several areas of the Dominican Republic to honor women for their many contributions in the world. Religious, civic, and military leaders participated in the event, which included a program of music and speeches. In Canada, Latter-day Saint women also marked the day by sharing information about the Relief Society, noting that it is a “tremendous vehicle for service around the globe.”

When I finished high school in the late 1970s, the Dutch economy was in turmoil. Unemployment rates were high. All in all, things looked pretty dismal. It was difficult for graduates to decide what to do next.
My father was serving as branch president. Now and then he discussed with me the possibility of serving a full-time mission. Of course, that would be a wonderful thing to do. I had been looking forward to that my whole life.
But I didn’t see how serving a mission could help me provide for my future family. Since childhood I had always had a great desire to one day find the love of my life and to build our family together.
I was 17 at the time, and not knowing what to do next, I started my next level of education. But after several weeks I found that this field of study was not going to make me happy. I had questions about whether it would even provide me with a stable job. I thought about quitting school.
My parents were not happy about this. They told me I could only quit school if I had a job. They probably thought that I would never find one because of the financial crisis. I spent all afternoon on my bicycle, going from one business to the next. Finally a company hired me to work in their warehouse.
Even though I took this temporary position, I had a plan. I was going to be a policeman. Working for the government would be a stable way to provide for my future family and everything would work out.
I remember the day that I went to take the exams to get into the police school. I took the train early in the morning and spent all day doing all kinds of tests. At the end of the day I was called into the office. They told me I passed all the exams and they would love to have me, but because I was 17, I was too young. They told me to try again in a year.
My world was shattered, and all the way home I was thinking, “What next?” At home my dad listened to my frustration and offered to give me a blessing. I expected that the Lord was going to tell me that everything would work out and I would be admitted to the police academy in a miraculous way. Instead the Lord told me that if I would choose to put Him first, I would always have bread on my table and the means to take care of my future family.
In response to my prayers, I received the answer that, for me, putting the Lord first meant serving a full-time mission. I had always intended to do that but had not seen how one step would lead to another. Now I knew that serving a mission was what I was going to do, and I wanted to do it as soon as possible.
Back then, the cost for a mission was 10,000 guilders in old Dutch currency, or about a year’s wages. I carried on working in the warehouse and by the summer of 1981, I had my 10,000 guilders. I had also turned 18. My father, the branch president, told me I was too young for a mission, as did the district president and mission president. At that time, you needed to be 19. But on my 18th birthday I went to the doctor and the dentist all by myself and had them fill in their parts of my missionary application.
Somehow, I managed to get my leaders to interview me and submit my application. Then we waited. I didn’t know that my father, as branch president, had received a letter. The application was returned to him with the notification that I was too young. But he hadn’t wanted to share that with me yet, so he carried it around in his suit pocket for weeks without letting me know. Fortunately, in the meantime he had received another notification. It said that in some situations the Brethren were willing to let young men go earlier when they were well prepared. Soon I was called to serve and was assigned to the England London East Mission. My mission became the blessing of a lifetime.
Three months after I returned from my mission, I did meet the love of my life. A year later we were married and sealed in the London England Temple. The economy was still not in good shape, but I have always been able to have a job and provide for my family. There has always been bread on the table and a roof over our head.

They became involved in this work in an unusual way.
“My friend and I were assigned to perform some vicarious ordinances in the Brisbane Australia Temple,” Michael said. “I had driven to the temple in my business van, and when I was returning to it after the completion of my assignment, a fellow approached me in the car park and said he was the facilities manager for the Church in the area.
“He asked if I would be interested in doing some work for the Church.”
Michael says, “We were asked if we would be willing to do some gilding (painting with special gold paint) on a statue of the angel Moroni. We told him that we were willing, submitted a bid, and we did that very interesting work and have since been fortunate enough to work on many other projects.”

I felt the same sweet spirit when my husband, Joe, was ordained a bishop and again when he gave our oldest son a father’s blessing before Dave left for the Persian Gulf. Then our son, in turn, blessed his wife and baby daughter. This brought such solace during a frightening time.