Gospel Story Finder

As suggested earlier, the life of Joseph Smith in some degree followed the pattern set by his Master, Jesus Christ. That pattern holds true even when extended to its tragic conclusion. Like his Master, Joseph Smith also shed his blood in order that the final testament, the reestablishment of the new covenant, might be in full effect. (See Heb. 9:16.) Just prior to his death, the Prophet Joseph was reported to have remarked:
“I am tired, I have been mobbed, I have suffered so much. Some of the brethren think they can carry this work out better than I can, far better. I have asked the Lord to take me out of this world. I have stood all I can. I have to seal my testimony to this generation with my blood. I have to do it, for this work will never progress until I am gone, for the testimony is of no force until the testator is dead. People little know who I am when they talk about me, and they never will know until they see me weighed in the balance in the kingdom of God. Then they will know who I am, see me as I am” (Mary Elizabeth Rollins Lightner, in They Knew the Prophet, compiled by Hyrum and Helen Mae Andrus, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1974, pages 26–27).

On his forty-sixth birthday, Howard received one of the biggest surprises—and joys—of his life: His parents joined him at the Arizona Temple, and together they were sealed as an eternal family. Six weeks later, Dorothy was sealed to them in the just-completed Los Angeles Temple.

My precious wife, Jeanene, loved the Book of Mormon. In her youth, as a teenager, it became the foundation of her life. It was a source of testimony and teaching during her full-time missionary service in the northwest United States. When we served in the mission field in Córdoba, Argentina, she strongly encouraged the use of the Book of Mormon in our proselytizing efforts. Jeanene confirmed early in her life that those who consistently read the Book of Mormon are blessed with an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a greater resolve to obey His commandments, and a stronger testimony of the divinity of the Son of God.1 For I don’t know how many years, as the end of the year approached, I would see her sitting quietly, carefully finishing the entire Book of Mormon yet another time before year’s end.

The children of the Calderón family started a great transition for their family. Jared, age 15, was the first to join the Church, followed a year later by his sister, Angie, 13. Their parents joined the Church three years after Angie’s baptism.
At first this family from Costa Rica had no idea how much the gospel of Jesus Christ would change their lives. They were introduced to the Church by a family member in 2002, and for many months afterward the Calderóns regularly invited the missionaries to their home so they could learn more. As they did so, the family experienced a transformation—a true conversion.
Before the family joined the Church, the Calderóns were concerned that Jared and Angie were having a hard time getting a moral and spiritual education in a world that downplays religion.
The gospel, the Calderóns found, had answers to the problems they were facing. “When we came to understand the gospel and started applying its teachings, that knowledge changed the way we lived,” says Brother Calderón. “We learned who we are and how we can return to our Heavenly Father. Because of what we found, we have lived a richer spiritual life.”
It wasn’t always easy to accept readily what they were learning from the missionaries, but as they tested gospel principles, they gained a testimony of them. “As we learned about gospel standards,” says Sister Calderón, “we tried to stay within the boundaries of worthiness. I gave up drinking coffee. (And I drank plenty of coffee before then!) We made goals as a family to not swear, to speak kindly to each other, and to keep other good principles.
“The main sacrifice we made was our pride,” she continues. “We had to learn to be humble, but as we’ve tried to learn and live with humility, we’ve received many blessings and experienced great progress as individuals, as a couple, and as a family.”

In 1836, the Prophet Joseph Smith and a few companions went to Massachusetts to search for a rumored stash of unclaimed money to help the Church pay its debts.
But that money turned out not to exist. These faithful brethren might have felt a little embarrassed. But the Savior reassured them: “I, the Lord your God, am not displeased with your coming this journey, notwithstanding your follies” (Doctrine and Covenants 111:1).
As it happened, there was “treasure” in the form of potential converts in the area who were ready to hear the restored gospel (see Doctrine and Covenants 111:2–3). Joseph and his companions taught and baptized several converts. So it turned out not to be a wasted trip. In fact, what they ended up accomplishing was probably more important than finding money anyway.

Illustrations by Jennifer Tolman
Dear Journal, Jarom wrote as he sat at the kitchen table, I’m getting really excited about going on a mission. Did you know I can now go when I turn 18? That’s only eight years away! I can’t wait!
Jarom kept writing about how much he looked forward to his mission. His younger sister Taran was also writing in her journal. Kelcey, Ben, and Alyssa drew pictures in their journals instead. They were still too young to write.
I used to be kind of nervous about the idea of leaving home to go on a mission, Jarom wrote. But now I know better. A mission is going to be great. I wonder where I’ll go.
He kept writing about his future mission. Every Sunday his whole family wrote in their journals for 15 minutes as part of Family MTC—their family’s own “missionary training center.”
They’d already done their 15 minutes of personal scripture study. Jarom knew that was important too, even if it wasn’t always easy. Sometimes the scriptures confused him. But he kept doing his very best. And Mom and Dad could always answer questions when he got really stuck.
Journal time, though, was always one of his favorite activities. He especially liked when they shared journal entries with each other.
“OK,” Dad said. “Time’s up. Ready for class time?”
Everybody cheered. Class time was fun. They each picked favorite articles from the Friend to teach the rest of the family. Jarom chose a baseball story he found—he loved baseball, after all. And his younger brother, Ben, couldn’t wait to tell about a boy who tried building the biggest block tower in the universe. Everybody had something to share.
The 15 minutes zoomed by with favorite stories. That meant only one thing was left.
“It’s time for family devotional,” Mom said.
Jarom grinned. Family devotional usually meant watching Church videos on the computer. The whole family loved those videos. They sometimes couldn’t decide which videos to watch for the 15 minutes. There were so many to choose from.
“Can we watch the one about the scorpion again?” Jarom asked before they even made it to the computer. “Please?” The video about the scorpion showed how Elder Patrick Kearon of the Seventy learned to obey his parents and avoid dangerous things.
“We just watched that last week,” Dad said with a laugh.
“I know, but it’s awesome!”
“I want to watch ‘The Coat,’” Kelcey said.
In no time at all, it seemed, Family MTC was over for another week. And yes, they’d gotten to watch Jarom’s favorite video again. Sooo awesome, Jarom wrote really fast in his journal.
Then it was time to get ready for church. Jarom grabbed his scriptures and headed for the door.
He remembered a couple months ago when they started Family MTC. At the time he didn’t really know what to think of it. Would it feel like one more hour of church? Sometimes three hours felt like a long time already.
But he was surprised by how much he loved Family MTC. Going on a mission was one of his big goals in life. He knew what he had to do to be ready. Learning as a family made it that much more fun.
Besides, if it meant he got to watch the scorpion video a few more times along the way, well that was just fine by Jarom.

Elder LeGrand R. Curtis Jr.
(35) Less-active members find redemption as they are invited to return to church.

During the pandemic, Newport Gwent ward offered a ray of light to their community by supporting three local charities and hundreds of people’s lives.
The ward also supports Sesame Counselling Services: a charity who specialise in providing discounted counselling services. Sesame Counselling was unable to use their regular meeting place so a member asked the Bishop if they could help, Bishop Hayes arranged a visit to the chapel to showcase their space. The head of the board of trustees was heard to say, “Isn’t there a restful atmosphere here,” “It’s peaceful here” and “There’s a nice atmosphere here, a feeling of safety.”

With the trusting nature of a child, four-year-old Chitalu Kennedy from Lusaka, Zambia ran into the open arms of Jesus! The moment was later captured on canvas by Latter-day Saint artist Liz Lemon Swindle in a heartwarming painting entitled Worth of a Soul. Since 2008, this painting has found a place in our hearts. We see the Savior draw this young, trusting child to Him. As we look into this young child’s eyes it may really be ourselves that we see. If we allow the Spirit in, it will testify that it is really each one of us that is cradled in His arms.
Two years after his parents’ passing, on a sunny day in Lusaka West, Zambia at the Mothers Without Borders Children’s Center, where Kennedy and some of his siblings were being cared for, a man portraying the Savior arrived with the artist and a photographer where an environment was created with the desire to photograph African children with the Savior so that a much-needed painting could be created.
Kennedy was then four years old. With the innocence of a child, and fully believing this man to be the Savior, he broke loose from the grip of his sister Bridget’s hand and ran toward him. He jumped into his outstretched arms. Throughout the day, Kennedy rarely left his side. Was the Spirit whispering to him that something here was familiar?

One young couple acknowledged that they should go to the temple, but they weren’t yet willing to attend the temple preparation seminars. They did allow their home teachers to come by weekly to teach them, however. Now the young man says, “I wasn’t rebellious. But I didn’t quite understand the gospel.” At one point he commented to his home teachers: “I know you have families and are busy. We appreciate your coming. We need your teaching.”

I had a period in my life when I felt disconnected from Heavenly Father. Even though I was going to the temple, praying, and reading scriptures, I still felt overwhelmed. I realized I had been doing important spiritual things, but I wasn’t allowing quiet time in my life to really ponder my connection with Heavenly Father. I decided to try meditation—to take a break from the world and to deepen my sensitivity to the Spirit.
After I started setting aside quiet time to meditate and tried to connect with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, I felt a huge difference in my ability to recognize Their guidance in my life. I also felt more peace and joy in my circumstances.

I was racing my sister on our bikes when I felt the urge to stop and pull over on the grass. Then a huge truck came speeding by. I’m grateful I listened to the promptings from the Holy Ghost.
John H., age 9, Suffolk, England

This story happened in Germany.
Emma put the last sleeping bag into the camper van. Her family was driving to Italy for a holiday weekend. They were all so excited!
She got into her seat with a blanket and some snacks. Her brother, Max, sat next to her.
“Everyone ready?” Dad asked.
“Yes!” Emma and Max said.
They drove past buildings and trees. The roads were very busy. After a few hours, it was so crowded that all the cars stopped.
Emma looked out the window at the people in the cars next to them. Some looked bored. Others looked upset.
A man behind them got out of his car. He walked over and knocked on Dad’s window.
Dad rolled down his window. “Hi. Can I help you?”
The man pointed to their van. “One of your tires is flat.”
“Oh no!” Dad said. He got out to look and talk to the man.
Dad got back in the van. “We have two choices. We can stop at the next rest area. Or we can drive carefully to the closest camper site. Let’s pray about it.”
Mom said the prayer. She asked Heavenly Father to help them know what they should do.
They were all quiet. Emma listened closely to hear the Holy Ghost. “I think we should drive to the campsite,” she said.
“Me too,” said Dad.
When they got there, Mom and Dad called someone for help. A few hours later, a worker came to look at the tire.
“It’ll be hard to find a tire that fits,” he said. “We’ll order a new one, but all the shops are closed for the holiday. We can’t get the tire until Tuesday.”
Emma frowned. Tuesday was far away—and what if the tire was late? She was excited to go to Italy. But now they might not get there!
“Let’s pray again,” Emma said.
“Great idea,” Mom said. “Just remember that even if we’re not blessed with a tire, Heavenly Father always hears our prayers. We can still have a great trip.”
Emma nodded. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “thank Thee for keeping us safe on our trip. If possible, please help us find the right tire for our camper.”
The next morning, the worker came back. He was rolling a big tire toward them.
“Looks like we’ll make it to Italy after all!” Dad said. Emma and Max cheered.
“How did you find a new tire so fast?” Max asked the worker.
“I asked some other people here if they had a spare tire that would fit,” the worker said. “And someone did!”
The worker put the new tire on. They were ready to go! Emma said a silent prayer of thanks. Their family trip hadn’t gone the way they planned, but Heavenly Father had heard their prayers.
How did Heavenly Father answer Emma’s prayer?
Illustrations by Greg Paprocki

Shortly after I was baptized at the age of 10 in Lappeenranta, Finland, I received my first Church calling. It was 1960, and our small branch desperately needed someone to accompany the hymns for sacrament meetings. I was asked to fulfill this assignment.
While my mother had always encouraged my brother and me to pursue artistic talents, I did not know how to play the piano, and we did not own a piano. But I wanted to fulfill my calling, so we made a plan.
In family home evening, we talked about what this calling meant to all of us. However, because my mother was a widow with two young children, we knew it would be a great challenge for us to purchase a piano and pay for lessons. We decided that we were all willing to make the needed sacrifices.
The first sacrifice my family made was financial. We decided that from spring to autumn we would ride our bicycles rather than the bus. My brother, Martti, was courageous and became especially good at biking—even on snow and ice. I gave up most of my clothing purchases and learned to sew. We also learned to live providently. We started a garden in the countryside near my grandparents’ house and preserved food for the winter. Our “vacations” became our mother’s trips to the temple in Switzerland or picnics and camps close to home.
The second sacrifice my family made was with time. We divided the chores and rescheduled our other activities and homework so I had enough time to practice the piano. Because of our sacrifices and hard work, Mother often remarked that we had no free time to get into trouble like others our age. In reality, my calling became a family calling long before I ever played a note.
I began taking lessons with a music teacher at the local school. I practiced using a paper keyboard and on a piano at the church. When my piano teacher moved away, we purchased his piano, and I was accepted to study with a renowned piano teacher in the area.
I learned the hymns on my own and practiced a lot with the branch music director. Everyone encouraged me—even if a “sour” note slipped in. My teacher was horrified after she found out that I played in front of people before I had thoroughly learned and memorized the pieces. But playing with one hand was better than having no music at all.
I rode my bike to my lessons, and when winter came, I tried to walk or ski if possible. On Sundays I walked alone to Church meetings so I could arrive an hour early and have time to practice. I resolved to ride the bus only when temperatures reached below -15ºC (5ºF). Rain and snow didn’t really bother me; time went by quickly as I walked because I had so many beautiful hymns to keep me company. As I walked, I was crossing the plains with the pioneers (see “Come, Come, Ye Saints,” Hymns, no. 30), walking high on the mountain top in Zion (see “High on the Mountain Top,” Hymns, no. 5), and standing with youth who would never falter (see “True to the Faith,” Hymns, no. 254). I could never falter with that support—even though my family and I were the only Latter-day Saints in our community in eastern Finland, in the shadows of the Russian border.
Over the years I became better at playing and could make music rather than just play the right notes. I learned to be prayerful in selecting the music so the Spirit would be in the meeting. And most important, my testimony of the gospel came to me through music. I could easily recall the feelings, words, and messages of the hymns if I ever questioned something. I knew that the gospel principles and ordinances were true, having learned them line upon line and note after note.

In January of 2016, our bishop told us to read the Book of Mormon as a family every night. Every time we read the Book of Mormon, I feel comfort and happiness and I build a stronger testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Mercy B., age 10, Arizona, USA

Will’s enthusiasm for service touches Cary Fleming as she, too, helps to clean up at this stop. “The house looked pretty bad when we got there,” Cary says. “I wondered how we were going to clean all this. But then Will started singing nonstop, and I kept on pulling weeds, and we had a blast.”
Cary found out that what her mom said last night was right. “I did not want to go, but she told me it would strengthen my testimony if I really prayed about going and asked to have a good time. So I knelt down and I prayed, and I’ve had the best time.”

A boy in my class at school has a hard time learning. I stick up for him when people tease him, and I help him in class when he needs it. My teacher said this is the only year he feels a part of his class.

Helping others is very important to Fabian, not just because it is a commandment, but because “it makes me feel good inside.”
“Once, when I was seriously ill,” Miguel said, “I had to stay in bed all the time. Fabian is the one who came and sat with me and kept me company and took care of me.”

A group of Piet’s most interested investigators asked if they could hold LDS services. They found an empty barracks in a far-off corner of the prison, put a blanket in front of the window for privacy, and set up an old soapbox for a pulpit. They had to do all this in secret because the guards didn’t allow extra meetings.

These services were filled with the Spirit, but they were a little unorthodox. The opening and closing songs were read, since the congregation didn’t dare sing out loud for fear of alerting their guards, and the worshipers had to sneak away afterwards one at a time.

But Church growth highlighted a challenge: a lack of experience by the members. This challenge, however, had a positive outcome: it required increased faith and spiritual guidance among the members. For instance, in November 1992 a stake was organized in Uruguaiana, on the western side of Brazil, far from established stakes of the Church. When a faithful and longtime member of the Church, José Candido Ferreira dos Santos, was called as the patriarch of the newly created stake, he was concerned. He explained to the General Authority: “I can’t be a patriarch. I have no idea what one is. I don’t recall ever meeting a patriarch and do not have my patriarchal blessing.” The General Authority suggested a solution. In the neighboring city of Alegrete, a new patriarch, Ruí Antônio Dávila, had also recently been called and was in a similar situation. The two patriarchs needed to give each other patriarchal blessings.
As Brother Santos was receiving his blessing from Brother Dávila, he was surprised as he heard blessings pronounced relating to his past and his personal desires that the patriarch had no way of knowing. When Brother Santos in turn pronounced a blessing on the head of Brother Dávila, again tears flowed as the same experience occurred. The two men embraced afterwards with a deep understanding of what had just happened.4 Just as the Spirit inspired them to give their first patriarchal blessings, the Spirit inspired them as they gave hundreds more. The Lord provided many such spiritual blessings in a country where Church experience was limited.