Gospel Story Finder

Brethren, this evening I would like to share an experience that has great meaning to me. During the Sunday afternoon session of general conference, April 6, 1986, a solemn assembly took place, the purpose of which was to sustain Ezra Taft Benson as prophet, seer, and revelator and 13th President of the Church. All Church members were invited to participate either by being in the Tabernacle or by means of radio or TV. As a family, we accepted the invitation to participate in our home. Except for one son then serving a mission, all were present—one high priest, one priest, one deacon, an 11-year-old son, and my wife, LeAnn. By direction and in turn, each of us who held the priesthood stood; then all of us together as a family stood to sustain President Benson.
Now returning to my family’s experience with the solemn assembly. At the completion of the voting, President Hinckley, who was conducting, said: “Thank you, brothers and sisters, for your sustaining vote. We feel that you have sustained us not only with your hands but also with your hearts and your faith and prayers, which we so urgently need, and pray that you will continue to do so.” Brethren, our sustaining support of prophets, seers, and revelators is not in the upraised hand alone, but more so in our courage, testimony, and faith to listen to, heed, and follow them.

When he accepted a scholarship to play at BYU, he had not planned to serve a full-time mission.
"But I found myself around young men who were deeply committed to living the gospel, and I wanted to be more like them," Elder Sikahema said.
In 1982 he stepped away from college football to serve in the South Dakota Rapid City Mission.

Princess Jewel V. and her sister Princess Jazmine Miraede N. V. had a “remarkable experience” at the Giving Machines in the Philippines.
“Walking through the Giving Machines together was a profound moment for both of us,” Princess Jewel said. “It was heartening to select gifts for those in need, from essentials to educational supplies and medical care. Sharing this experience with my sister strengthened our bond and taught us the power of compassion and generosity, even at our age. It was a meaningful reminder of the impact we can make by simply giving.”

My own faith had its beginnings following a time of sorrow.
My father and mother were sheep farmers in New Zealand. They enjoyed their life. As a young married couple, they were blessed with three little girls. The youngest of these was named Ann. One day while they were on holiday together at a lake, 17-month-old Ann toddled off. After minutes of desperate searching, she was found lifeless in the water.
This nightmare caused unspeakable sorrow. Dad wrote years later that some of the laughter went out of their lives forever. It also caused a yearning for answers to life’s most important questions: What will become of our precious Ann? Will we ever see her again? How can our family ever be happy again?
Some years after this tragedy, two young missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came to our farm. They began teaching the truths found in the Book of Mormon and the Bible. These truths include the assurance that Ann now lives in the spirit world. Because of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, she too will be resurrected. They taught that the Church of Jesus Christ has once again been restored on earth with a living prophet and twelve Apostles. And they taught the unique and remarkable doctrine that families can be bound together forever by the same priesthood authority Jesus Christ gave His chief Apostle, Peter.
Mum instantly recognized truth and received a witness of the Spirit. Dad, however, wrestled for the next year between doubts and spiritual nudges. Also, he was reluctant to change his way of life. One morning following a sleepless night, while pacing the floor, he turned to Mum and said, “I will be baptized today or never.”
Mum told the missionaries what had happened, and they immediately recognized the flicker of faith in my father that would now be either lit or extinguished.
That very morning our family traveled to the nearest beach. Unaware of what was happening, we children had a picnic on the sand dunes while Elders Boyd Green and Gary Sheffield led my parents into the ocean and baptized them. In a further act of faith, Dad privately committed to the Lord that come what may, he would be true all his life to the promises he was making.
One year later a temple was dedicated in Hamilton, New Zealand. Shortly thereafter our family, with someone representing Ann, knelt around the altar in that sacred house of the Lord. There, by the authority of the priesthood, we were united as an eternal family in a simple and beautiful ordinance. This brought great peace and joy.
Many years later Dad told me that if not for Ann’s tragic death, he would never have been humble enough to accept the restored gospel. Yet the Spirit of the Lord instilled hope that what the missionaries taught was true. My parents’ faith continued to grow until they each burned with the fire of testimony that quietly and humbly guided their every decision in life.
I will always be thankful for my parents’ example to future generations. It is impossible to measure the number of lives forever changed because of their acts of faith in response to profound sorrow.

As a young seminary student, I learned a valuable lesson: just as one cannot fully understand the taste of salt without tasting it, one cannot fully grasp the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon without reading, pondering, and praying about it. When I completed the Book of Mormon for the first time, I was struck by the cycle of righteousness and wickedness among the people and the eventual destruction of the Nephites. I resolved then to strive for righteousness and to practice repentance in my youth.

We arrange time to be together: having family home evening, playing games, going to the beach, having lunch together. All of this helps to keep the flame of a good relationship alive. When we disagree, we avoid criticizing. I know that sometimes I ask not to do housework, but this contributes to disharmony in the home. Since I began this experiment—complaining less, lowering my voice, helping more with housework, and talking more with my mother—a sweet spirit has developed in our home and we cooperate more.
Glenda C., age 18, Bahia, Brazil

Elder Donald L. Hallstrom
(78) Young couple turns away from the Lord and the Church after their first child dies at birth.

My love for the standard works increases greatly in every year of seminary. This love helped me feel a greater desire to fulfill what Heavenly Father wants us to do. He helped me to feel a sincere love for my neighbor. I had the opportunity to share the gospel with each person around me. Through seminary, a program inspired by God, I was able to get out of the difficulties presented to me by the world. Heavenly Father helped me know what kind of daughter He wants me to be, what things I should focus on, and how I should act.
Mirian C., age 18, Guatemala, Guatemala

As time passed, I inclined more towards God. I was diligent in reading the scriptures, attending church, and doing prayers. However, my fiancé, who was a recent convert, requested that I visit the Mormon Church. With lots of struggles in my life as well as being a longtime investigator, I finally became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Later, we got married in the Hong Kong China Temple. Today, I am blessed with a happy family with a wife and two beautiful children.
We always try our best to follow the teachings of the Church. My parents used to observe us. After a while, I invited my parents to come to church with us. Following many discussions, my mother became a member of the Church.

Elder Maxwell recalled a time when his father served as a ward clerk: “After the meeting each fast Sunday, my father would count and stack the tithing and fast offering money on the round dining-room table at home. I remember his devotion and the carefulness with which he accounted for all of the contributions turned in.”

Not all battles are waged on foreign soil. Nor do the participants always bear arms, throw grenades, or drop bombs. I witnessed such a conflict on the fourth floor of a California hospital. There were no shrill sounds of mortar fire to be heard, no fields of men or equipment to be seen. Yet a life or death struggle was in progress. Happy, handsome Paul Van Dusen, age fifteen, had just lost the first fight with the feared enemy called cancer.

Paul loved life. He excelled in sports. He and his parents hoped, then prayed that the doctors” fears would not be confirmed—that his precious right leg would not be amputated. Devastated, they accepted the sad news. To save his life, he must lose his leg.

The surgery completed, Paul rested.

Entering the room after Paul’s surgery, I was attracted immediately by his cheerful smile. He radiated a spirit of hope and goodness.

The crisp, white sheet lay noticeably flat where once there had been a leg. Flowers from friends surrounded his bedside. Parents, grateful for his life, stood close by.

Paul invited me to read the get well cards he had received. One carried the message: “We love you, Paul. We’re praying for you.” It was signed by members of his Sunday School class. From his classmates at school, “May you get well soon. We think you’re great.” Still another from home teachers had the inscription, “May god bless you. Tomorrow we’ll visit you again.”

What did the Carpenter from Nazareth say of such people? “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” (Matt. 25:40.)

The spirit of prayer came easily that day. A perfect peace filled the room. Smiles of confidence crept across lips moist with tears. From distant Capernaum we seemed to hear the echo, “Be not afraid, only believe.” Then Paul said, “I’ll be all right.”

We beheld a faith-filled heart and a countenance that reflected gratitude. Faith in whom? Gratitude for what?

Gavin looked out the window. Big white snowflakes were falling softly to the ground. He grinned as he thought about all the fun he could have skiing and building snowmen. Gavin loved winter in Canada.
“Gavin?” Mom said.
Gavin blinked and turned back to the living room. It was family home evening, and the lesson was on service. But it was hard to pay attention!
Mom smiled. “I know you’re excited about the snow, but what are ways our family could help someone?”
Gavin looked out the window again. Snow was piling up on the driveways on his street. “Hey! What if we shoveled the Ramseys’ driveway?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Gavin’s big brother, Jensen, said. “They’d really like that.”
“That’s a great idea,” Dad said. “The Ramseys are getting older, and shoveling snow is hard for them.”
The next morning, Gavin’s family shoveled the Ramseys’ driveway. Gavin was glad they were doing it together. Even Gavin’s little sisters, Chloé and Kenzie, helped. The path Kenzie shoveled looked like a giant snake had slithered through the snow.
After scraping together the last pile of snow, Gavin gave his brother a high five. “We make a great team!” Jensen said.
“Yeah!” said Gavin. “We’re the Snow-Shovel Squad!”
After the next two snowstorms, the Snow-Shovel Squad happily shoveled both their driveway and the Ramseys’. One time, Mrs. Ramsey tried to pay them, but they politely said no.
“The Snow-Shovel Squad is a not-for-profit team,” Gavin explained.
That made Mrs. Ramsey laugh.
The snow kept coming. Shoveling two driveways got harder and harder. After a while, Mom and Dad had to remind the Snow-Shovel Squad how much they were needed.
One morning Gavin woke up especially excited. They were going skiing today! He looked outside and grinned. The snow looked perfect. He ran to find his skis. Soon everyone was packing the van for their trip.
Just as they buckled their seatbelts, Mom turned to look at them. “What about the Ramseys’ driveway?”
Gavin looked at Jensen. They had forgotten all about it.
“Can we do it later?” Jensen said. “We want to get to the mountain before it gets too busy!”
“OK,” Mom said, and Dad started the van.
But then Gavin glanced out his window. He could see Mr. Ramsey trying to clear his driveway. It looked like he could hardly lift his shovel.
“Wait, Dad,” Gavin said. “Mr. Ramsey needs the Snow-Shovel Squad right away!”
Everyone got out and grabbed their shovels.
“Sorry we’re late!” Gavin called out.
Mr. Ramsey smiled. “Thank you so much,” he said. “It would’ve taken me hours to shovel this driveway alone.” With the help of the Snow-Shovel Squad, the Ramseys’ driveway was snow-free in just a few minutes. After that, nobody had to remind Gavin about the Ramseys’ driveway. If it snowed, the Snow-Shovel Squad was out shoveling, sometimes even before breakfast. Sometimes it snowed so much they had to shovel two times in one day!
As the weeks went by, shoveling the driveways didn’t seem so hard. In fact, Gavin thought that helping the Ramseys was one of the best parts of winter. Then one day, he woke up and saw that the sun was warm and bright. The snow was melting down the driveway. How could he help others now that it was spring?

Aside from providing a meetingplace for the little group of Saints, the new chapel has brought other blessings. Leonor Machua heard of the new meetinghouse just before leaving on a brief trip to Guayaquil, Ecuador. While in Ecuador she asked someone about the new building and the religion it represented. The stranger answered her questions and suggested she meet with missionaries once she returned home. A few days later she saw the missionaries on a street corner and accepted the invitation to be taught. Sister Machua was baptized immediately after the Saturday afternoon session of general conference in October 2009, the first person to be baptized in the new meetinghouse’s baptismal font.

2012: President Monson lowers the age requirement for missionaries to 18 for males and 19 for females.

Angelo Scarpulla started his theological studies in his native Italy when he was 10. He eventually became a priest and served his church with devotion. At a certain point his faith started to waver, and he sought and received opportunities for further study. The more he studied, however, the more concerned he became. What he read and felt convinced him that there had been a general apostasy from the true doctrine taught by Jesus and the early Apostles. Angelo searched for God’s true religion in various faiths but was left unsatisfied for many years.
One day he encountered two members of the Church who were helping the missionaries find more people to teach. He felt drawn to them and joyfully listened to their message. Angelo willingly accepted a copy of the Book of Mormon.
That evening he started reading the book. He felt overcome with joy. Through the Spirit, God gave Angelo an inner assurance that in the Book of Mormon he would find the truth for which he had been seeking for many years. Sweet feelings flooded through him. What he read and what he learned from the missionaries confirmed his conclusion that there had been a general apostasy, but he also learned that God’s true Church had been restored to the earth. A short while later, Angelo was baptized into the Church. When I first met him, he was the president of the Rimini Branch of our Church in Italy.

When Grandma Came by Jill Paton Walsh Grandma has seen a desert island, a whale in the ocean, polar bears playing, kangaroos hopping. She’s even sailed on the Nile River. But no matter where she’s been, she always comes back and tells Madeleine that nothing she’s seen is “as heaven-and-earthly as you!”

I was walking through a parking lot with my mom and two sisters when we saw a homeless man. I asked my mom if we could go into the store and buy him something to eat. My sister and I bought a candy bar and gave it to the man. It made us feel really good, because he was hungry.

Second, we came to know Jesus Christ, not just as a historical figure, but as the living Son of God. In high school and the years that followed I had made a special study of the New Testament. However, the Savior’s life and mortal ministry had no great impact on my life until the missionaries testified, as did Job of old, that our Redeemer lives (see Job 19:25).
I came to know him as my personal Savior, who gave his life for me and for each of us. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Everyone needs a friend and everyone has a friend beyond compare—Jesus Christ and him crucified and resurrected for us.

For instance, a Relief Society president may find that the counselor who is asked to conduct a meeting or supervise a project may do so in a different manner than she would. The counselor’s style may be equally effective and may even produce superior results if the president allows some freedom. But the counselor will never grow if the president exercises too much control, checking up so closely that the counselor is afraid to do anything.

Elder Kimball had more somber memories of that difficult period. He was the mission secretary, based at Chattanooga, at the time of the Cane Creek Massacre, which occurred on Sunday, August 10, 1884. In that incident, Elder Berry and Elder Thompson were killed in a mob action, along with a Brother Condor and a Brother Hudson. A Sister Condor was wounded in the hip.
Elder Kimball was in the vicinity of the tragedy at the time of its occurrence, and he sent a telegram from Columbia, Tennessee, informing President Roberts of the details of the incident.
Resolving to retrieve the bodies of the slain missionaries so they could be returned to their families in Utah, President Roberts set about making arrangements to do so. The bodies had been buried in an area known as Shady Grove. As their recovery involved considerable risk, Elder Kimball tried to dissuade President Roberts from personally undertaking the task and offered to go himself. However, the mission president’s will prevailed, and Roberts, effectively disguised as a farm laborer, went to the burial site with some local people, recovered the bodies, and supervised their return to Utah.