Gospel Story Finder

Let me share one other reality that is of great concern to me. I had a sobering experience in Jerusalem in 2016 at the Children’s Memorial, which is part of the World Holocaust Remembrance Center. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and I, together with two American Jewish leaders, laid a remembrance wreath. It is believed that more than one million Jewish children were killed during the Holocaust.18
As I experienced the museum, I was overcome with emotion. Standing outside to regain my composure, I reflected on the horror of the experience and suddenly realized that in the United States alone, there are as many abortions every two years as the number of Jewish children killed in the Holocaust during the Second World War.19
The Jewish children were killed because they were Jews, and there is no analogue to this in all history, but the intensity of my feeling was about the loss of children. Bringing children into the world is a sacred part of our Father in Heaven’s plan of happiness. We are so numbed and intimidated by the immensity of the practice of abortion that many of us have pushed it to the back of our minds and try to keep it out of our consciousness. Clearly the adversary is attacking the value of children on many levels.

Another blessing in my life has been working so closely with President Gordon B. Hinckley. Over the past nine years the Church has gone from having 51 temples to 124 temples. This miracle has strengthened my faith and helped me understand the importance of temples.
In 1998 we had 51 temples operating and 17 being built. Then in general conference, President Hinckley said that we needed to have 100 temples by the end of the year 2000.1 It meant 32 new temples would be built in addition to the 17 already in process. We thought it was an impossible task. But nothing is impossible when blessed by the Lord. It took many miracles to make it happen in that short time. Time and time again, things came together at just the right moment—miracles such as finding enough sod to lay on a temple property just hours before the dedication took place.
In the year 2000 there were 34 temples dedicated. That’s the most that have ever been dedicated in one year in the history of this world. President Hinckley was inspired to build more temples. Then the Lord magnificently blessed us and helped that happen because He honors His prophets. I hope you honor the prophets too. And I hope you will always value and prepare for temple blessings.

11 One week before Hitler invaded Poland, the First Presidency ordered LDS missionaries to evacuate Germany, France, and England. When Japanese expansionism created dangers in Asia and the Pacific areas, missionaries left there too. By the end of 1940, full-time mission work ceased everywhere except in North and South America and in Hawaii. The Church officially advocated noninvolvement by the United States, but after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the Church supported the nation’s declaration of war. Many Church activities were curtailed because of war-caused gasoline and tire rationing and travel restrictions. General Conference in April 1942 was open only to 500 leaders, not to the general membership. Paper shortages meant smaller and fewer lesson manuals. By the end of the war, 100,000 LDS men and women had served in the U.S. military. To help them, the Church secured government approval for appointing LDS chaplains for all branches of the armed forces. LDS service people were told to keep a spirit of humanity, love, and peacemaking, and to view themselves as ministers of life rather than death, fighting not to destroy enemies but to defend freedom. Saints in lands at war with each other were counseled:
“On each side they believe they are fighting for home, and country, and freedom. On each side, our brethren pray to the same God, in the same name, for victory. Both sides cannot be wholly right; perhaps neither is without wrong. God will work out in His own due time and in His own sovereign way the justice and right of the conflict, but He will not hold the innocent instrumentalities of the war, our brethren in arms, responsible for the conflict.”

Willian M., age 15, shared: “The missionaries were the first to bring me to church. Then what kept me going was everyone’s reception. I thought that coming to this Church would be just to hear something about the gospel and then go back home, but I realized that it wasn’t just that—it was something very welcoming. When Bishop Gil Santos was called as our bishop, he invited young people to work, with the aim of bringing more young people to the Church. He knew that young people are the future of the Church. That’s why I’m here!”

Something was different about nine-year-old Heidi after school that cold afternoon. Instead of flinging her jacket when she walked in the door, she carefully hung it on the hook. Rather than pouncing at the refrigerator like a hungry tiger, she stared quietly out the window as if she were looking at something far beyond the border of the yard.
“Well, hi there!” Mom said, trying to get her attention.
Like a person awakened from a dream, Heidi looked at her mom and smiled. “Oh, how was your day, Mom?”
Mom wiped her hands on her apron and studied Heidi’s face. “My day was fine. How was yours?”
“Well … ,” Heidi began slowly, “it was … different.”
“I believe you. You seem to be light years away.”
“Well, maybe not that far. But as least as far as Arkansas.”
“Arkansas is a long way from California. What started you thinking about Arkansas?”
Mom cut an apple into four pieces and offered one to Heidi, who cradled it in her hand.
“There’s a new boy named Billy coming from Arkansas to join our class tomorrow. My teacher told us his parents were both in a car accident. His mother died, and his father is in a hospital and probably won’t survive, either. Billy was sent here to California to live with an uncle.” Heidi looked down at the apple she was holding. “Can you imagine being that boy, Mom?”
“No, but you’re really trying to, aren’t you?”
Heidi nodded. “I just wish there was something I could do for him. He’s going to feel really alone tomorrow.”
“I’m sure there are some things you can do to help. Let’s think of some.”
“I can smile at him.”
“Good idea.”
“I can show him around the school and tell him about our classroom routine.” Heidi put her chin on her hand and looked up at her mother. “But it isn’t enough. Isn’t there something special I can do?”
“Well, there is something special we can do for Billy. Something that just might be enough.”
“What?”
“You and I can fast and pray for him. We can ask Heavenly Father to bless him to feel at peace in his new home and at his new school. We can also pray for his father. What do you think about that?”
Heidi thought for a moment about fast Sundays. She had been taught that fasting would help her feel the Spirit, but she usually just felt hungry and grumpy. She hesitated, but then something inside let her know she would be OK. She smiled at her mother. “Let’s do it.”
Just then, Heidi’s 13-year-old brother, Chris, entered the kitchen. Hearing Heidi’s last sentence, he asked, “Do what?”
Mom briefly told Chris about Billy and explained their plan. Chris said, “I’ll fast with you.”
“Wow! Really?” Heidi asked.
“Yeah, sure,” he answered, reaching for some cookies. Stopping his hand just above the cookie jar, he asked, “When do we start?”
“After dinner,” Mom answered.
The next day, Heidi came home looking a little pale—but happy.
“Wow! I thought fasting on Sundays was hard! Try playing kick ball and watching everyone else eat lunch! But I think our fasting and prayers helped Billy.”
“Good! Tell me about it.”
“Well, when I smiled at him, he smiled back at me. The other kids were nice to him, and he made friends with a couple of boys by the end of the day.”
“That’s great,” Mom said.
“And then—it was weird,” Heidi added. “You know how some of the kids’ bad language has been bothering me lately?” Mom nodded, and Heidi continued, “Well, it was amazing, because I heard those same swear words, but for some reason, they couldn’t get inside my mind. It was as if my brain was protected all day from getting dirty! Neat, huh?”
“That’s wonderful, Heidi,” Mom said, smiling.
“I’m really tired, but I feel happy. I hope Billy feels as peaceful as I do right now.”
Mom gave her a little hug. “I have a feeling he does.”
When Chris came home, he flopped into the nearest chair and let his heavy backpack thud to the floor. He leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. “When do we eat?”
“Let’s finish our fast with a prayer. We’ll have dinner soon,” Mom suggested. “But first, tell me how your day went.”
“My body felt pretty weak, but I kept thinking of Billy, and that helped,” Chris said. “Missing a couple of meals isn’t so much if it helps him feel better.”
As the three of them knelt to say one more prayer for Billy, Mom put her arms around her children’s shoulders. Was it her imagination, or had her children both grown a little taller that day?

After two years of custodial work, another ward was added to our building, making a total of four. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday we had Relief Society, with the officers arriving as early as 8:30 A.M. The Relief Society room, foyer, kitchen, south steps, nursery, and rest rooms had to be ready. While Relief Society was in session, we cleaned the rest of the classrooms, the chapel and the cultural hall.

Then at 3:00 the Primary officers began to arrive. The relief society room, nurseries, kitchen and rest rooms had to be checked and cleaned if needed. When Primary was over we picked up, swept, straightened chairs, and cleaned backboards to get ready for activity night. This went for about a year; then two wards moved out of the building. It seemed like we were on vacation!

At a special conference held in Great Salt Lake City on August 28 and 29, 1852, Richard was called to serve a mission in Hindoostan (Hindustan), India. For four years the Ballantynes had been hungry. Their clothing was inadequate to protect them against the harsh winters; they had no money and little food. With Richard gone, life would be even harder. Yet Huldah did not hesitate in supporting her husband in this call. She immediately began to prepare clothing for Richard, darning his socks and scrubbing and mending his white shirts. When she discovered that his one suit was totally threadbare, she ripped out the seams of her best homespun skirt, made from material that she had woven and dyed herself. She took Richard’s measurements and carefully tailored a suit for him. That suit was to last him throughout his mission.
Richard was gone for three years. By herself, Huldah cared for their three small children, tilled the land, and made all of the family’s daily necessities. She carded wool and extracted dyes from roots, leaves, bark, vegetable peelings, and cochineal bugs. From beef and mutton tallow, she fashioned her own candles. Scraps of fat, rind, and meat trimmings were saved to make into soap. After soaking and drying potatoes, she grated them to use as starch.

In February 2013, I met a young man named Kurt at a dinner party. He was scruffy, unshaven, and hungover. I didn’t give him much thought. Four months later, I saw a handsome young man who instantly took my breath away. Our paths crossed for all of five minutes, but in that time, I realized that it was Kurt—the same scruffy guy I had met before. I wondered about the change in his appearance.
Two weeks later, I was surprised to receive a text message from Kurt to join his friends to watch a movie. I debated in my head whether I should go. How did he even get my number? I barely knew this guy, my first impressions of him were not the greatest, and it didn’t seem like we didn’t have much in common. Reluctantly I made my mind up to go anyway.
After the movie, Kurt invited me to dinner, and I only said yes because I was starving, but that dinner changed everything. My first impression of him changed as I found out he was someone who genuinely made me smile and laugh. He was so easy to talk with, and we became instant friends.
As time passed, our friendship grew and so did our feelings. Before a romantic relationship could develop, I had this internal battle; he wasn’t a member of the Church. I knew that I wanted to be married in the temple and raise my children in the gospel. I wanted an eternal family. So what was I doing developing a relationship with him?
I knew I needed to do something. One evening we were driving back to my house, and I asked, “What are we doing?” I told him that we needed to take a step back and not let our friendship develop into something more. I said that I didn’t want to break my heart or his heart if we got into a relationship only to have to part ways because I wanted a temple marriage. I told him that life isn’t just about me, or us, but about our futures and future children. I admitted that I knew this was crazy and that I was jumping ahead but that I was just trying to be realistic and spare us future heartache.
He listened and then, to my surprise, replied, “I will take you to the temple.” I doubted him—how could he promise that? He reassured me by promising to take me and asking me to trust him.
I didn’t really know what to do, but it was probably the first time in my life that I had been praying with so much real intent. As I was fasting and praying throughout the whole journey, I always had a reassuring feeling that it was right and to keep going along this path. My previous relationships had felt good, but being with Kurt, for the first time in my life, things felt right—not just good but right, and I felt at home.
With that reassurance from the Spirit, I agreed to trust Kurt and continue our relationship. I knew that things still might not work out, but I also knew that I would stick to my commitment to a temple marriage.
Kurt started meeting with the missionaries. During the lessons, I found out that he had been investigating the Church for over a year before we met. I also discovered that he had purposely not been asking me any religious questions because he wanted to find out the truth for himself and not allow his feelings for me to sway him.
He was baptized, and we were married and sealed in the Hamilton New Zealand Temple a year later. He kept his promise to me to take me to the temple, and he still holds his covenants close to his heart. Six and a half years of marriage later, and we still have an amazing thing going. We have a son whom we cherish, and we strive every day to teach him the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I’m glad that I didn’t let my first impressions of Kurt become my last. He’s not the same person I first met. I’m glad that I trusted him and the Spirit’s guidance in our relationship. And I’m grateful that I stood up for what I believed in, for myself and my future family. I knew I wanted to be sealed in the temple, not just because it’s the “right thing to do,” but because the covenants we make, especially in the temple, put us on a path that allows our family to grow, progress, and become eternal. As President Russell M. Nelson stated so eloquently, “Salvation is an individual matter; exaltation is a family matter” (“Salvation and Exaltation,” Liahona, May 2008, 10).

A new girl joined our school class in the middle of the year. She looked and spoke differently than the other students. She had moved around a lot and had a hard time making friends. She had sad things happening in her family and came to school crying on some days. I knew I wanted to try to help this girl, but I wasn’t exactly sure what I should do because she did not always like to talk with other children. I prayed about what I should do and could feel the Holy Ghost whisper that I should just try to be her friend.
I helped her with her schoolwork and told her that our Heavenly Father gave her special talents for her to use and share with others. I invited her to play with me and other students at recess. A few months later, she said I was the first friend she ever had.
She had to move again, and I felt really sad. I asked the school secretary to send a letter to her at her new address. In the letter, I told my friend I would miss her and that she would always be my friend. I drew pictures of us playing together and reminded her of some of her talents. I told her she should be brave and try to make a new friend because she could help someone else. I prayed that she would find a friend in her new school and that the other children would be nice to her.
I know that Heavenly Father loves all of His children, and I am thankful that He helps us to help each of them.

My friend, let’s call her Julie, adopted twin boys during the pandemic. Late last year one of her boys was diagnosed with cancer, and now spends long spells in hospital for treatment. Occasionally he is allowed home over a weekend, to be reunited with his twin brother. It’s been tough on this little family, especially taking into consideration all the COVID procedures and protocols needing to be observed. Julie and her family have stepped up to the challenges with determination and hope.
Julie, a member of Southport Ward, Liverpool England Stake, sent out a plea for help late one Friday afternoon. Her little boy was responding well to recent medication and a lull in procedures was going to mean a weekend out of hospital. They could go home to sleep in their own beds for a couple of nights. However, there was a problem; the little boy was bereft because his favourite hospital toy, a 16-inch dinosaur to which he had become attached, had to be left on the ward.
I quickly contacted our church community to see if anyone had a similar dinosaur. Having no luck, I thought I would ask our wider Southport community. I put together a short explanation of the situation, with a photo of the toy, and made a post on local web selling pages and freecycle sites. Within moments I had hints and suggestions as to where I may be able to purchase or order a similar toy. But it was already Friday evening!
Then, I got a message from a mother who had shared the story with her dinosaur-enthusiast son. He had immediately offered to donate one of his prized figures to the sick little boy. Julie and I were so touched. I arranged to collect it immediately.
On my way, a message arrived from another mother. Her child had seen her looking at my post and had recognised the dinosaur in the photograph as being the same as the one that he had. He was offering to give up his toy to someone he didn’t know but knew was in need. I was so moved and excited because Julie’s little son is a twin, so this would mean both little boys would have a toy dinosaur with which they could play together over this special weekend.
Julie was overcome with emotions when I arrived at her door with the two dinosaurs. She just couldn’t believe people’s generosity and the willingness of two boys who had heard of their plight and jumped at the opportunity to sacrifice their own treasured possessions to cheer a sick child. There are so many wonderfully kind-hearted people about, especially young mothers who are teaching, through example, selflessness and compassion.

I’ve had many blessings in my life—spiritual blessings. I had good parents, a good education, material blessings like a good home. I always had enough to eat, always a bed to sleep in, and many, many other blessings. I had the opportunity of working in business capacities, and in this capacity, of seeing the world, seeing many people. I have had many opportunities, but the greatest blessing that has come to me came through humble missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I want to express gratitude for all that I have to these young men that came to our home—not only that they came, but that they had love enough not to give up. I was a very hard case. I had thought that through my education, and through my background, and my history, and my family that I would be superior. I felt pity for the missionaries. I said, “Well, this fine young man, with such a poor message!” They didn’t give up. They came again and again and again. And I felt an authority radiating through them that was stronger and more than all the knowledge that I had in my previous life—the authority of the true love of Christ. I want to give thanks to this generation of missionaries who did not give up and to the mission president who had concern enough not to withdraw the missionaries from me. It was Elder Theodore M. Burton. I will never forget that.
I will tell you that I’m deeply convinced that this is in my life the most important blessing I have ever received. It changed my life totally. I began to realize that a man can know nothing important in this world unless he has knowledge of the gospel of Jesus Christ restored by his prophet, Joseph Smith, and follow-through by a living prophet, Spencer W. Kimball. Without this message I would not have a family like I have now. I would not have the love for my lovely wife that I have now, and I would not be able to be so proud of my children.

Last year in my fourth-grade class there was a boy whom nobody respected. At lunch our table always got really crowded, and no one would scoot over for him. I knew that this wasn’t right, so whenever he asked me to scoot over, I did. One day one of my friends asked, “Why do you always scoot over for him?” I answered, “That’s what I’d like someone to do for me.” I know that when I scooted over he appreciated it. I felt good inside too, because I believe that it was what Jesus would have done.

I made a list of 20 careers and the wages that went with them. I narrowed down my list by if the career was in demand, the years of schooling required, and if the college I wanted to attend offered that major. I even called different schools and asked them about their programs and spoke with several contacts.
Katrina A., 19, Washington

This story took place in Tonga in 1981.
Silioti walked home from school past trees of yellow papayas and rosy ripe mangoes. When she saw the fruit, she remembered how hungry she was. She also remembered that today was a special day. Today everyone in her stake in Tonga was fasting for the prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball. The prophet was sick and needed an operation. Tonight everyone in the stake would meet to pray and end their fast together.
When Silioti reached her house, she smelled food cooking in the ‘umu, the pit oven. Her stomach grumbled. Silioti was glad she was old enough to fast now, but fasting on a school day was so much harder than fasting on a Sunday.
Silioti tried to forget how hungry she was. She found firewood and cleaned up the leaves that had fallen from the tall breadfruit trees that shaded her yard.
Heavenly Father will understand if I take a tiny sip of water, Silioti thought as she washed her hands after chores. Then she thought of how much she loved President Kimball. She wanted him to be well again. She decided she would wait.
Silioti sat down on the porch and laid her head in her mother’s lap. She was so tired.
“You can end your fast if you need to,” Mother said.
“But I want to fast,” said Silioti. “I can do it.”
When Father came home from work, everyone in the family helped uncover the ‘umu. They took out the pork wrapped in leaves, the fish, and the breadfruit baked in coconut milk. Then they wrapped the food in cloth and carried it out to the road to wait for the bus.
They met other families on the road, all with their own bundles of food. They all smiled and talked as they climbed on the bus together. Silioti found a little space next to Mother. She smelled the good food as the bus bumped along.
It was dark when the bus reached the chapel. Inside, Silioti knelt with her parents, her brothers and sisters, and hundreds of other members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
During the prayer, Silioti prayed in her heart, Please let President Kimball get well again. She knew every person in the room was praying for the same thing. A calm feeling inside told her that President Kimball would be OK.
When she opened her eyes, she saw tears on the faces of the people around her. All of these people had fasted, and she had fasted with them. It had been hard, but she had done it!
President Kimball survived his operation and served as the prophet for four more years.

Laura Sanchez and Claudia Sosa, both 12, are members of the Los Angeles Third Ward. Both arrived in the U.S. just months ago, Laura from El Salvador and Claudia from Mexico. They would agree with Maryjoy that fellowship among the Saints is universal. “One of the reasons I know this is the true Church is because I always feel the same spirit,” Laura said. Their friend Maria de los Angeles Valenzuela, 17, from the same ward, expressed the same idea. Asked through an interpreter if there is a friendliness among Church members no matter what language they speak, she enthusiastically responded, “¡Sí, sí, sí!”

When my son Joseph was 12 years old, he traveled with me to Kenya in east Africa. We flew into Nairobi, which is the capital city, then got into four-wheel-drive vehicles and journeyed out into the area inhabited by the Masai people.
The Masai live in huts encircled by what I call the original barbed wire fence. Actually, they cut down thorn trees and pile them up in a semicircle or an oblong circle. At night they herd their cattle inside and shut the gate by dragging a thorn bush across the opening. The people and the cattle live together.
Health, nutritional, and sanitary conditions being what they are, the average life span for a Masai today is about 38 years. But they are a friendly, happy, beautiful people.
When Joseph arrived in the village, he suddenly found himself surrounded by 30 or 40 Masai children his own age. As is their custom, they wore no clothing. I can guarantee that this was very disconcerting to my son. They were laughing, smiling, and talking to him, trying hard to transcend the enormous cultural and language barrier.
Our guide explained that we were in a pretty remote area, and that although these children had seen white men before, Joseph was probably the first white boy they had ever seen.
I could tell Joseph wanted to be friendly, so I handed him a chocolate bar.
“Give them a piece of candy,” I said.
He opened the package and broke off a square. He tried to hand it to a boy who seemed about 14. I will never forget the reaction of that boy. He looked at the chocolate and shrunk back. He didn’t want to have anything to do with it.
So I said, “Show them that you eat it.”
Joseph put a square of chocolate in his mouth, then handed another square to this same 14-year-old boy. The boy looked at it and held it. He was suspicious as he tried to understand it. Then he took the first, tiniest little nibble, then a larger nibble; then he put the whole piece in his mouth. You could see the joy come over his face as he tasted chocolate candy for the very first time.
Then we handed out squares to all the other children, and they weren’t afraid to try it because they’d seen someone they knew eat it and he had enjoyed it. There was something wonderful about that chocolate.
Later in our trip, we came back to that same village. As soon as we arrived we were mobbed by the same group of 30 or 40 children, and we didn’t need a translator to know what they wanted. They wanted more chocolate, more of something wonderful and sweet.

One day I was describing my experiences and new ideas about God to one of my uncles, who suggested I talk with some missionaries. Part of my family had been members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for my whole life, and I’d never thought about joining before, but now I was ready to meet with the missionaries.
I’d always admired my family who were members of the Church. They were always helping others and seemed to have a happiness I didn’t understand. I was finally humbled enough to be open to the idea of me not having all the answers and to think that I could maybe learn something from the missionaries.
They asked me to read the Book of Mormon and pray to find out if it was true. I was taken aback by this. I didn’t expect them to tell me to find out for myself. But I began reading and praying. As I did, I noticed the strangest feeling. In some strange way, I recognized what I was reading, as if I were remembering truths I’d once known. I now know that feeling was the Holy Ghost testifying of truth to me—it was the same burning feeling I’d experienced before. I continued the discussions with the missionaries, and shortly after, I was baptized.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles shared how Bishop Monson cared for the widows: “Many may know that young Bishop Monson took a week of his personal vacation time every Christmas season to visit all of those eighty-five widows in his ward. Many may not know that for the first several years the gift he would take them was one of the … hens raised and dressed out by him in his own poultry coops.”1

You have to understand. Chris and Jason are the kind of guys who, if you ask about diving and you’re close to the community pool, will show you the dives they do. Never mind that they didn’t bring their suits. They’ve been lifeguards here, and the caretaker, who knows them well, gives permission. They look at each other, accept the challenge, and even though they’re in jeans, jump on the board and plunge in the pool. You get the feeling that’s the same way they’ll plunge into missionary work—follow the rules, be dependable, work hard. But get with it—no wimpy excuses.

In response to counsel from Parley P. Pratt, Wilford Woodruff traveled to Kirtland, Ohio, in April 1834 to join Zion’s Camp. Brother Woodruff’s account of his first meeting with the Prophet Joseph Smith is instructive for all of us:
“Here for the first time in my life I met and had an interview with our beloved Prophet Joseph Smith, the man whom God had chosen to bring forth His revelations in these last days. My first introduction was not of a kind to satisfy the preconceived notions of the sectarian mind as to what a prophet ought to be, and how he should appear. It might have shocked the faith of some men. I found him and his brother Hyrum out shooting at a mark with a brace of pistols. When they stopped shooting, I was introduced to Brother Joseph, and he shook hands with me most heartily. He invited me to make his habitation my home while I tarried in Kirtland. This invitation I most eagerly accepted, and was greatly edified and blest during my stay with him.”9