Gospel Story Finder

Everyone in the family loved the house we lived in on East Franklin Street, everyone that is except me. My father called it “the Castle,” and from a distance (it was on a hill) it did look a little like a castle. The Castle was a dream come true for my parents. They’d had it built after nearly ten years of careful saving and planning, and even though it’s been years since we lived there my father still tells of my mother supervising the construction.
“Mama,” he says grinning. “She put her nose into everything. She made sure all of the carpenters put their nails in right and of course she knew more about bricklaying than any mason we hired. Everything had to be just so for her. If anyone did something she didn’t like, boy, did he hear about it.”
He tells that part of the story when my mother is listening. When she isn’t, he tells of how all the workers threatened to quit if she didn’t leave them alone and of how he saved the day by sending her to buy carpets and furniture.

As I’ve continued to practice rejoicing, I’ve found a greater sense of strength in the face of difficulties. I recently faced a disappointment that left me with a sad pit in my stomach. But as I reflected on how I was feeling, I could see how much I had grown since my time as a missionary.
My sadness didn’t feel derailing, because I’ve come to realize that true happiness is living the gospel of Jesus Christ. It doesn’t mean we’ll never experience hardships or that we’ll face every challenge with perfect grace.

Another son was primarily a visual learner. He loved to read and would feel the Spirit best while reading the scriptures or gospel-centered books. We provided many books for him to read that helped him feel the Spirit and gain a testimony. We also placed pictures of gospel scenes and sayings on our walls so that our house became a feast of visual learning.

I would like to share an experience of faith. Being the only child, Elder Hermelindo Coy said good-bye to his mother and left for the first time in his life his small village in the mountains of Senahú, Guatemala. He entered the Missionary Training Center the fourteenth of March, 1991. Although he had been a member of the Church for only two years and also very timid about talking to people, his determination to serve was great. His formal education was less than five years of elementary school in his native language of Kekchi. Spanish, the official language of Guatemala, was foreign to him.

During his mission he learned to live with pain in his leg. He rarely complained. In August 1992 he noticed that in addition to the increase in the pain, something was abnormal about his knee. He had a medical exam—the diagnosis: bone cancer. A more careful exam revealed cancer in the liver, lungs, and lymphatic system; in other words, his illness was terminal. He did not understand the nature of the illness nor its seriousness. With the help of a translator and using examples from the farm life with which he was familiar, he understood that he had little time to live.

He never asked, Why is this happening to me? He did not lament or express negative feelings. He was obedient to all that was required of him. He was asked if he would like to return home, but he asked to remain in the mission and serve as long as possible, even until his death. By October of the same year, he walked with difficulty, requiring the use of a cane. He could work only a few hours each day. By December he was unable to walk. For the first time he was discouraged because he could not proselyte. His worry was always who would take care of his mother after he died.

In one of his visits, the mission president asked him to teach more of the basic doctrine to his mother, who, along with mission nurses, was providing twenty-four-hour care. When he taught the plan of salvation to his mother in his native tongue, his face radiated assurance and light. Elder Coy was understanding with power and conviction what he was teaching.

As his strength declined, he placed his complete trust in the Lord. On one occasion when the pain was very strong, he expressed in prayer, “Heavenly Father, I do not know the day or the hour that I will die, but I want to know soon from thee about my new assignment.” He died in February 1993. His death blessed all the missionaries, leaders, members, and even nonmembers who learned of his courage to serve and endure to the end. His faith was so simple that it was contagious. He never feared death. He strengthened all who knew him.

Did you see Torah Bright tearing it up at the 2006 Torino Winter Olympics? At 19, she’s one of the world’s leading snowboarders. She’s so well known in the sport that you can actually choose to be Torah in several major snowboarding video games. She’s also a member of the Canberra Australia Stake.

During 2005, Torah took overall women’s first place in the Arctic Challenge in Tromso, Norway. The challenge is one of the most prestigious international snowboarding competitions. She also placed first in four other competitions, second in three others, and third in two more.

The pressures of being an international sports star don’t seem to bother her much. She says that as the people around her have come to know what she stands for and the standards she keeps, they’ve come to respect her.

“I can’t live without the gospel,” says Torah. “It’s the truth. You know who you are, and you know that you are individually important. It gives me purpose in everything I do.”

When our son Matthew was five, he fell from the top of the high diving board at our neighborhood pool. He hit the concrete deck and suffered a fractured skull and a brain concussion. He was rushed by a Life Flight helicopter to the Houston Medical Center for emergency treatment. I needed priesthood assistance immediately. Our home teacher and our priesthood leader were both worthy and prepared at that moment. They helped give Matthew a blessing, and he completely recovered.

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
I’ll be a missionary, and you be the person I’m teaching, OK?
OK.
I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God.
So do I.
No, you don’t get a testimony until after you’ve prayed about it.
I’ve already prayed about it.
But pretend you haven’t, so I can practice.
I won’t pretend I don’t have a testimony!
It’s just make-believe!
I’m not going to make-believe that I don’t believe what I believe, and you’d better believe that you can’t make me!
No success today, Elder?
Too much.

“There was a deeply motivating, unspoiled spirit of brotherhood, and besides, Marion D. Hanks was there.” That’s the way Frank Stevens, Crawley District, England South Mission summed up the Student Association Conference in Edinburgh, Scotland. Students from Scotland, England, Wales, Denmark, and Germany attended the conference for a weekend of enjoyment and learning.
Participants stayed in Edinburgh University housing and attended classes through the day. Classes, labeled “refreshing and illuminating” by Anthony Moore of Norwich Ward, East Anglia Stake, treated such subjects as ecology, birth control, general morality, and missionary attitude. Many good things, said Dave Cook, Leeds Ward, Leeds Stake, came “after hours in private discussion groups.”
Tho Roll Glumann and Karl Heinz Scherer, both of Germany, recommended that the Student Association program be established on campuses in Germany.
Jim Moss, director and organizer of the conference and seminary and institute director of Great Britain, led the group on a trip to the top of Arthur’s Seat. The site is known as Pratt’s Hill by the Saints. There Brother Moss told of Orson Pratt and other missionaries to Great Britain and recounted some of their experiences and accomplishments.
Special guests at the conference were Elder Marion D. Hanks and Sister Hanks, President and Sister Dennis Livesey of the Scotland Mission, and Regional Representative Joseph Hamstead and Sister Hamstead.

Herman lives next door to me. Sometimes he’s a pest, but most of the time we’re buddies. Right now he’s learning to ride a two-wheeler, and I’m helping him. He’s not very good yet, though.
Tonight Herman’s going to sleep over at my house. He’s never done that before. All day he’s been asking, “Is it time yet?”
“Not yet,” I say. “Not till suppertime.”
Herman stands on his head by a tree, and his glasses fall off. “What’s your mother making for supper?”
“Spinach soufflé.”
Down come Herman’s feet. “Spinach what? I’m not coming!”
“Only kidding,” I tell Herman while he sits up and puts his glasses back on. Quickly I stand on my head and put my feet against the tree. Upside down I say, “We’re having macaroni and cheese and hot dogs.”
“OK!” He pushes his bike to the driveway and tries to get on. I hold it for him and give him a little push. The bike falls over. Herman gets up, rubbing his hands together, and says, “Ouch!”
I take the bike and buzz down the driveway and up the sidewalk. On the way back I fold my arms and yell, “Look, Hermie, no hands!”
After a while Herman goes into his house and comes out with a bowl of goldfish. “They’re coming over, too,” he says. “They’re used to being with me.”
We take the fish up to my room and find a place for them on the bookshelf.
Later Herman brings over the velvet snake he likes to sleep with. Any other kid would have a teddy bear, but not Herman. The snake is green and has a thin spot in the middle where Herman bends it around his neck. He takes the snake up to my room and hangs it on the back of a chair.
Then he brings three books. One is about creatures from outer space, one is about farm animals, and the other is about spiders. I know I’ll have to read them to him before he goes to sleep.
He also brings a jar with a caterpillar in it.
My mother sees the jar. “Hermie,” she says, “wouldn’t your caterpillar be happier at home?”
“No,” answers Herman, “he likes to be by the fish.”
My mother raises her eyebrows and shrugs her shoulders. “Be sure that lid’s on tight,” she says to me.
I move some of my stuff off the shelf to make room for the jar.
Just before supper Herman comes over carrying his pajamas and toothbrush. His face is shiny from a good scrubbing, and his hair is still wet. He stands in the doorway and asks, “Please, Mrs. Ashton, can Moses come too?” Moses is Herman’s dog.
My mother looks first at my father, then at me, then back at Herman. “Why not?” she says. “After supper, OK?”
“Oh, boy!” says Herman. “Thanks, Mrs. Ashton.”
Finally it’s time to go to bed. Moses is curled up by the bed. Herman says good night to him. Then he says good night to the fish and to the caterpillar. He climbs into bed with the snake around his neck. The first book he chooses is the space one.
I start to read, but Herman doesn’t listen. He squirms. “I need my own pillow,” he explains. “I’ll be back in just a minute.” Herman’s pillow looks like a giant cheeseburger.
While I wait for him, I finish reading the space book and pick up the spider one. There’s lots of stuff in there I don’t know. When Herman’s not back by the time I finish the farm animal book, I go to check on him.
His mother is surprised to see me. She hadn’t heard Herman come in. We go up to his room, and there’s Hermie, sound asleep on his giant cheese-burger!
“Maybe another time,” his mother says, covering Herman with a blanket.
“Sure,” I say. I’m disappointed. Hermie’s a neat kid. Tomorrow I’ll really help him with his bike, and I won’t even show off.

On Sunday I couldn’t wait until Primary to talk to Sister Brimley, so I met her at the chapel door. “Sister Brimley, you won’t believe this! I found six people to give of myself to this week.” I told her about each of them. “But I can’t think of anyone for today.”
Sister Brimley stooped and put her arm around me and spoke in a tiny, low voice. “You’ve already given of yourself, Sara—to me. You see, I was very, very discouraged. I felt as though I wasn’t doing a good job as a teacher. You showed me that I can make a difference. Sometimes we may need things, but often we just need people to just give of themselves, as Jesus did and as you have. I think that He must be very pleased with you.”
Both Sara and Sister Brimley felt good about themselves as they went into the chapel together.

Hearing the editions of the Liahona has been an extremely edifying experience for me. I have shared the audio download with a member with vision problems, another who is a professional driver, and with other friends with reading difficulties.
I am currently taking a post-graduate class 200 km (130 miles) from my home, and listening to the magazine has made the bus trip more rapid and pleasant. When I heard the general conference issue I felt as though I were living in the days of Jacob, having “been nourished by the good word of God all the day long” (Jacob 6:7).
Francisco Flavio Dias Carneiro, Brazil

Later he went to Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania, where he led the football team to great victories over all the big teams in the country at that time—Yale, Harvard, Pittsburgh, Chicago, West Point, and many others. No one could run as fast, dodge as well, hit as hard, kick as high, or think as fast on the field as Jim.

Spiritual healing is illustrated in the story of Warren M. Johnson, pioneer ferryman at Lee’s Ferry, Arizona. As a young man, Warren Johnson came west seeking his fortune in gold in the summer of 1866. He became very ill, and his companions left him under a tree in the yard of a family in Bountiful. One of the daughters found him and reported there was a dead man out in the yard. Although he was a complete stranger, this kind family took him in and nursed him back to health. They taught him the gospel, and he was baptized. He eventually ended up as the ferryman at Lee’s Ferry.
In 1891 the Warren Johnson family suffered a great tragedy. Within a period of a short time, they lost four children to diphtheria. All four were buried in a row next to each other. In a letter to President Wilford Woodruff, dated July 29, 1891, Warren told the story:
“Dear Brother …
“In May 1891 a family residing in Tuba City, came here from Richfield Utah, where they … spent the winter visiting friends. At Panguitch they buried a child, … without disinfecting the wagon or themselves, [and] not even stopping to wash the dead child’s clothes, they came to our house, and remained overnight, mingling with my little children. …
“We knew nothing of the nature of the disease, but had faith in God, as we were here on a very hard mission, and had tried as hard as we knew how to obey the word of Wisdom, [to] attend to the other duties of our religion, such as paying [our] tithing, family prayers, etc. etc., that our children would be spared. But alas, in four and a half days [the oldest boy] choked to death in my arms. Two more were taken down with the disease and we fasted and prayed as much as we thought it wisdom as we had many duties to perform here. We fasted [for] twenty-four hours and once I fasted [for] forty hours, but [to] no avail for both my little girls died also. About a week after their death my fifteen year old daughter Melinda was [also] stricken down and we did all we could for her but she [soon] followed the others. … Three of my dear girls and one boy [have] been taken from us, and the end is not yet. My oldest girl nineteen years old is now prostrate [from] the disease, and we are fasting and praying in her behalf today. … I would ask for your faith and prayers in our behalf however. What have we done that the Lord has left us, and what can we do to gain his favor again[?]
“Yours in the gospel
“Warren M. Johnson” (in P. T. Riely, “Warren Marshall Johnson, Forgotten Saint,” Utah Historical Quarterly, Winter 1971, p. 19; spelling modernized).
In a subsequent letter dated August 16, 1891, to his friend Warren Foote, Brother Johnson testified that he had found a spiritual peace:
“I can assure you, however, that it is the hardest trial of my life, but I set out for salvation and am determined that … through the help of Heavenly Father that I [would] hold fast to the iron rod no matter what troubles [came] upon me. I have not slackened in the performance of my duties, and hope and trust that I shall have the faith and prayers of my brethren, that I can live so as to receive the blessings you having authority … placed on my head” (“Autobiography of Warren Foote of Glendale, Kane County, Utah,” vol. 2, 16 Aug. 1891; in LDS Church archives).

“I think the Lord has a special purpose for us, and that’s why we are growing so fast,” says President Soulé. “We have learned that when we obey, the Lord will tell us what to do. We feel his love, and we will do his will.
Once I was at a business meeting, and I didn’t drink. One of our potential clients said, ‘If you don’t drink, we won’t do business with you.’ I thought a minute, and then I said to him, ‘Maybe I don’t want to do business with someone who thinks that what is in my glass is more important than what I can do.’ I thought he was angry, but the next day he called me and said they wanted to do business only with me because I wasn’t afraid to stand up for what I believed. When we know what is right, we should do it, no matter what.”

About 225 years later, the teens of the Wilmington Delaware Stake returned to Cooch’s Bridge and other Revolutionary War sites for their “Youth Conference 2002: Build upon the Rock.” For the conference, they worked on many different projects such as painting and cleaning historical sites.
The teens helped repaint battle monuments at Cooch’s Bridge, cleared brush away from 300-year-old barns and homes at the Elk River invasion site, and cleaned at nearby Dayette Mills, a commercial center in Delaware’s colonial era.
Dayette historian and curator, Ray Johnson, was thrilled to see hundreds of Latter-day Saint youth arrive to help wash the walls and restore the grounds of the old mill. “These Mormon kids have no idea how much good they’re doing. Not only are they helping fix things up, they are also drawing community attention to all this history we have in the area,” he said.
Kathy Sullican, 16, from Wilmington said it helped to know the history before they started working. “Before the work projects, the groups were given historical information on each work site, which really gave us a greater appreciation of the service we were providing,” she said.
The teens pulled together and worked hard. It was supposed to take them three days to fix up Elk Landing, but it took them only half a day. Some of the teens worked so hard they forgot to eat lunch—at least until the job was done.
In the evenings, they returned to the stake center in Newark for dinner, dances, and special “building block” classes where guest speakers gave classes on local history, the restored gospel, and Book of Mormon prophecies concerning America. The youth were treated to historic reenactments and to testimonies from modern members of the armed forces.
Marcus Strange, 15, from the Rising Sun Branch in Maryland, enjoyed learning about Nephi’s vision of the New World in 1 Nephi 13. “I knew Nephi was a prophet, but learning about his revelations about the American Revolution reinforced my testimony of him,” he said.
The classes helped Leslie Little, 14, from the Cambridge Branch appreciate her freedom more. “I am so grateful for the freedom that we enjoy. I was glad I got to help preserve the past,” she said.
Stake President Gary Hollingshaus reminded the teens that they face similar challenges today. “We’re all part of the same war against evil and temptation,” he said. “In our battle we will use different tools. Instead of cleaning our muskets or sharpening our bayonets, the armor we have is personal righteousness, daily prayers, and reading the scriptures.”
As the conference drew to a close, many of the teens expressed an appreciation for the challenges that confronted the early Americans as they settled the colonies and battled for independence.
Sarah Sturgell, 16, from the Wilmington Ward said, “Whoever thought that pulling trees and weeds in the hot sun with sweaty youth would be one of the most spiritual experiences I’ve had? What I’ve learned about the Revolutionary War has really strengthened me.”
The conference was more than a bunch of teens having a lot of fun fixing things up and pulling weeds. Now the Delaware teens have more courage to fight their own battles against sin. Their memories of youth conference will always remind them that they can be as valiant in their fight for right as the Revolutionary War soldiers were at Cooch’s Bridge.

While presiding over the Ukraine Kyiv Mission, I once asked one of my most faithful sisters why she was always so hard on herself, why she was always beating herself up over the smallest things. Her answer was a classic example of someone listening to the wrong voice as she replied, “So no one can beat me to it.”

Brothers and sisters, my counsel to this sister missionary is my counsel to you: acknowledge and face your weaknesses, but don’t be immobilized by them, because some of them will be your companions until you depart this earth life. No matter what your current status, the very moment you voluntarily choose honest, joyful, daily repentance by striving to simply do and be your very best, the Savior’s Atonement envelops and follows you, as it were, wherever you go. Living in this manner, you can truly “always retain a remission of your sins” (Mosiah 4:12) every hour of every day, every second of every minute, and thus be fully clean and acceptable before God all the time.

I’ll give you an example. Three little boys were flying a kite in a field away from their homes. It began to rain, and they wanted to save their kite. As they hastily pulled it from the sky, it caught on a tree limb high over their heads.

They found a long stick and tried to pull it down, but they couldn’t reach it. They tried everything they could think of to get it down, but the kite just turned and twisted in the storm. One of the boys finally said to the others, “I think we should pray.” The other two looked at him, then followed his lead, bowing their heads while he said the words. As they opened their eyes, they saw a car coming toward them down the road that let to the field. As it neared, the boys stood motionless and almost breathless, staring at the lady driving the car.

Their stares fascinated the lady, so she stopped and called to them, “Are you having trouble?”
“Yes,” they said. “Our kite is caught on the tree. Will you help us get it down?”
“I’ll try,” she said. “Stand away while I back up.”

She backed her car to position it under the kite, then she got out, climbed on top of the car, and, with the long stick retrieved the kite.

When the boy who had offered the prayer carried his kite into the kitchen, he told his mother about the kite’s getting caught in the tree. She asked, “Who helped you get your kite down?”
“Heavenly Father,” he replied. The boy, who had prayed with perfect trust, knew the answer to a prayer when he saw it.

As a young missionary serving in the Chile Concepción Mission, Sean Douglas began his service in the rural backcountry. His “wonderful first Chilean companion and trainer spoke Spanish at lighting speed.” After three months in the South American country, Elder Douglas still struggled with Spanish.
Discouragement and homesickness plunged him into doubt and drove him to his knees. “I am not doing any good,” he prayed. “I do not seem to be impacting anyone.”
His heart filled with a burning question from above: “Are you here for Me, or are you here for you?”
At this moment he resolved with God to forget himself and keep trying. “That very night I dreamt in Spanish,” he said.
The following day everything was easier. “I could speak a little better. I could understand a little more,” he said. “The mission catalyzed my testimony of the power of prayer and that when you go and do what the Lord commands, He always provides a way for you.”
That philosophy has guided the rest of his life.

This is more than a ceremony; it’s an occasion. The building is decorated with banners, crowded with students and their families. While a torrential rain fills the streets knee-deep, a group of mothers are in the kitchen, piling plates high with food to be enjoyed at the end of the evening. The delicious smell of empanadas, savory meat-filled turnovers, begins to waft through the building.
And the ceremony itself? It’s more than just walking up to the stand, having their names announced, receiving their graduation certificates. There’s genuine affection between the students, their teachers, and their leaders. The handshakes are lingering ones. There are quiet words exchanged. It makes for a longer evening, but even with all of that good food waiting, no one seems to mind. Seminary graduation here is a major event. And it should be.

Some who profess to be followers of Christ insist that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are not Christians. Indeed, there are those who make their living attacking our church and its doctrines. I wish all of them could have the experience I shared recently.

A friend who was making his first visit to Salt Lake City, called on me in my office. He is a well-educated man and a devout and sincere Christian. Although we have not discussed this with each other, we both know that some leaders of his denomination have taught that members of our church are not Christians.

After a short discussion on a matter of common interest, I told my friend I had something I would like him to see. We walked over to Temple Square and into the North Visitors’ Center. We viewed the pictures of Bible and Book of Mormon Apostles and prophets. Then we turned our steps up the inclined walkway to the second level. Here Thorvaldsen’s great statue of the risen Christ dominates a setting suggestive of the immensity of space and the grandeur of the creations of God.

As we emerged and beheld this majestic likeness of the Christus, arms outstretched and hands showing the wounds of his crucifixion, my friend drew a sharp breath. We stood quietly for a few minutes, enjoying a reverent communion of worshipful thoughts about our Savior. Then, without further conversation, we made our way down to the street level. On the way we walked past the small diorama showing the Prophet Joseph Smith kneeling in the Sacred Grove.

As we left Temple Square and took our leave of one another, my friend took me by the hand. “Thank you for showing me that,” he said. “Now I understand something about your faith that I have never understood before.” I hope that every person who has ever had doubts about whether we are Christians can achieve that same understanding.