Gospel Story Finder

In 1966, Church President David O. McKay (1873–1970) prophesied scientific discoveries that would “stagger the imagination” and make possible the preaching of the gospel to every kindred, tongue, and people (Conference Report, Oct. 1966).
Then years later, in 1981, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) taught: “We are confident that as the work of the Lord expands, He will inspire men to develop the means whereby the membership of the Church, wherever they may be, can be counseled in an intimate and personal way by His chosen prophet. Communication is the sinew that binds the Church as one great family.” (“Faith: The Essence of True Religion,” Ensign, Nov. 1981).
These and other similar prophetic declarations were made well before the invention of the personal computer, the smartphone, and the internet. Decades later, we now benefit from these prophesied technologies, devices, and services—and who knows what the future holds? To partially quote the ninth Article of Faith, “we believe that [God] will yet reveal many great and important things.”

Thank you so much for the article on studying in the September 1984 issue. My grades improved.
No nameSalem, Oregon

Little by little the Lord was showing that he had prepared the way for me. However, I felt that I would need his help a lot more when I talked to my father. My father is a good man, but his hard life had made him tough and materialistic. Such an outlook would prevent him from accepting my decision.
On a Sunday afternoon, when we were alone in our backyard, I decided to tell my father. He listened until I finished and then asked very dryly, “Is this your will?” I nodded. “Very well, now listen! When you took this course you destroyed the love that existed within me for you. I am not going to drive you out of the house but from my heart. Those medical school stickers that I proudly exhibit on the windshield of my car will be removed, and you will have to do much to put them back on. You tore down a great dream of my life, and as far as I am concerned you fell down with it.”
I tried to answer him and express my great love for him, but my words stopped in my throat. I wished that the whole world would fall upon me for bringing such great suffering to my father, whom I loved so much.
Time went by. My father went to stake leaders to try to stop me. In a last and desperate attempt he went to the stake president. When he returned home that night, he had only harsh words for me.
While I prayed to the Lord to give my father understanding, the Spirit dictated to me that I should listen to him without saying a word. The night before he was to talk to the stake president again, he was sitting alone in the backyard. He said the moonlight made the night clear. He took the opportunity to pray to the Lord in the way he knows and said, “Father, I know that you have given me everything, but do you need to collect all at once? You know I cannot bear it.” In that very moment the backyard became filled with shadows that started to move towards him. My father became stricken with fear and ran to his room like a frightened child. He spent the whole night talking to my strong and sweet mother. That long talk with my mother and his interview with the stake president, when both cried, were enough to change his thinking.
And then came the night that I will never forget. I was in the kitchen peeling a pineapple for our dessert when my father came home. He stopped behind me, placed his briefcase on the floor, and said, “May I talk to you?”
I was already getting used to his aggressive talking. I answered yes and continued to peel the pineapple. “Listen, young man, when I talk to someone I like him to look into my eyes.” I stopped, turned to him, and heard him say with a calm and tender voice, “My son, go and do what you have decided to do because the Lord has told me that it is right. You can count on me for help because I love you very much.” We embraced each other, and the Lord bound the heart of the father to the son and of the son to the father. Tears of joy rolled down our cheeks.

President Ezra Taft Benson, a man whose life demonstrated closeness to the Master, died of heart failure Monday, 30 May 1994, at the age of ninety-four. He passed away at 2:35 P.M. in his apartment in Salt Lake City. Family members had visited him during the days before his passing, singing hymns and favorite songs to him. His funeral was held Saturday, 4 June 1994, at 10:00 A.M. in the Tabernacle on Temple Square. He was buried in Whitney, Idaho, the small farming community where he was born.

The clouds hung low and white over the small town of Liberty Bell that twenty-sixth day of December 1908. Sarah Moseley made her way from her family’s house at the end of the street toward the boardwalk, where her new dress would get a brief respite from mud-spraying wagon wheels.
Sarah’s family had been laboring under the stressful effects of no income in recent months, but her mother had managed to rummage up sufficient materials from an old attic chest to fashion a beautiful patchwork dress for Sarah. It was the only gift she had received for Christmas the day before, and she was fitly grateful for and proud of it.
As she continued along the street, she turned the collar of her frayed wrap up around her neck to ward off the biting chill of wind and lightly-driven snow. Suddenly someone wearing a tattered sheepskin coat stepped out in front of her. He had a tangle of red hair, and a crooked scowl on his face. Toby Wilder! Last week he had asked Sarah for some answers to a test in Miss Cornaby’s class, and Sarah had refused. Now he looked ready for revenge. “I would have passed that test if you had slipped me those answers,” he growled.
“There’s a right and a wrong to everything, Toby Wilder,” Sarah said, swallowing hard, “and cheating is wrong.”
Toby glared at her with a look that could have bent an iron poker, then pushed her back toward the edge of the boardwalk. “‘There’s a right and a wrong to everything, Toby Wilder,’” he mimicked. “You think you know all there is to know about what is and what isn’t, don’t you little Miss High-and-Mighty?”
“No,” Sarah told him, her body stiffening with growing fear, “but God does. And He’s told us in the scriptures about honesty.”
Toby glowered at Sarah. He glanced up and down the street through the haze of falling snow. No one was in sight. “Since you’re such good friends with God,” he said mockingly to Sarah, “why don’t you ask Him to keep you from falling down and getting mud all over your new dress?”
Shoving her roughly off the boardwalk, he laughed derisively and swaggered away as she pulled herself up from the street mire. Her eyes welled up with tears as she wiped at the icy ooze on her new Christmas dress and headed for the store.
The bell above the door jangled as Sarah stepped into John Walton’s Mercantile Store. The man behind the counter regarded her solicitously. “What happened, Sarah?” he queried.
“Toby Wilder,” she sighed.
Mr. Walton nodded. “That boy ought to be over somebody’s knee, getting redder than a near-set sun, if you ask me.”
“Yes sir!” Sarah heartily agreed.
“Warm yourself by the stove there.” When Sarah hesitated, he added kindly, “Go on child. There’s no sense in all that warmth going to waste, now, is there?”
“I guess not,” Sarah responded submissively. “It’s just that you’ve given us so much these past few months, all our food and such, that I just don’t feel right about hogging the only spot in front of your stove.” She motioned toward a customer who was stamping the snow from her high-button shoes just outside. “You have paying customers, Mr. Walton. They should be able to warm themselves before someone who—”
“Sarah Moseley,” Mr. Walton declared, “since when did I ever charge a body a cent for warming himself at my potbellied stove?”
Sarah smiled in gratitude and stepped in front of the stove. Mr. Walton came out from behind the counter, nodded to the woman who was making her way to a far corner, and pulled up a chair in front of Sarah. He sat down and spoke privately. “After that boxcar explosion at the depot last September, it’s a wonder your father is still alive. It’ll be a little while yet before he’s up and about.” He pushed a wisp of damp hair from Sarah’s eye. “Your father is a good man,” Mr. Walton continued. “He’ll pay me back when he’s able. Now give me that shopping list I know you have.” Sarah obliged him. “Besides,” he added as he stood with a little grunt, “it’s Christmastime, isn’t it? A time for giving? It would be a shame to deny a man the right to earn a celestial reward in the world to come.”
Sarah’s face wrinkled with curiosity. “What do you mean, Mr. Walton?”
“Christ gave His life for you and me, Sarah, not to mention for those that crucified Him. It seems the least I can do is give a can of beans and”—he checked Sarah’s list—“a box of baking soda and the like to people I love. Of course, that’s easy. The trick is giving to, or doing something for, someone you don’t like. Now there’s the real test. The problem is that I like everybody.” He laughed. “Well, almost everybody.”
Sarah watched Mr. Walton climb the ladder behind the counter. A ray of winter sun made his face radiant. “Why is it so important to be nice to people who are mean to you?” she asked.
Mr. Walton reached for a box of baking soda on a high shelf, then looked down at the girl below him. “Maybe because the Savior was. Maybe because it’s part of forgiving. It’s the same thing, wouldn’t you say?” He climbed down the ladder and began placing the few gathered items in a sack on the counter. “And maybe it’s because of a revelation the Prophet Joseph Smith received once that said, ‘For if you will that I give unto you a place in the celestial world, you must prepare yourselves by doing the things which I have commanded you and required of you.’”* He pushed the groceries across the counter to Sarah. “I have a sneaking notion that charity is one of those things, honey. And that forgiveness is another. What do you think, Sarah?”
“I guess you’re right, Mr. Walton,” Sarah answered, thoughtful.
It wasn’t until Sarah was outside again that she noticed something extra in her sack. A large candy stick. She puzzled over it a moment, then smiled at Mr. Walton’s kindness.
No sooner had Sarah started down the boardwalk in the direction of home than she spied Toby Wilder just ahead, leaning against a pole. His back was to her, and he was looking toward the sun as if he were aching for a little warmth on an otherwise bleak, unfriendly day.
Bracing herself, Sarah stepped up to him. “Toby?”
Toby whirled around. When he saw who it was, he growled, “What’s the matter, Sarah. Didn’t you get wet enough the first time?”
Sarah handed him the candy stick. “Merry Christmas,” she said.
Toby didn’t answer. He just stood there gaping.
Sarah glanced back in the direction of the mercantile store, where she could see Mr. Walton looking out the window, waving. She waved back, then turned and continued down the boardwalk toward home.

Surfing. Sunbathing. Luaus. Hula dancing.
All these things might be what pop into someone’s mind when they think of Hawaii. But, consider this instead: ho‘ike (ho-ee-kay), a word that means “to show or exhibit.” To learn more about their heritage, the youth of the Honolulu Hawaii West Stake put on a ho’ike to tell the stories of how the Church came to the Polynesian islands.
The ho‘ike depicted a journey through Polynesia that honored their ancestors through song and dance and taught of the work of the gospel of Jesus Christ among the people of Polynesia. Through this performance the youth not only connected with their past, but they also grew closer to each other and the Lord.
“Through this experience, our young people have learned to respect and celebrate other heritages, strengthen relationships with one another, and develop talents many did not know they possessed,” said Harry Murray, the emcee for the event. “This labor of love was both challenging and fun, both educational and spiritual for all involved. The greatest lesson has been the realization that the gospel of Jesus Christ brings us all together despite our varied backgrounds and fosters attributes within us that are universal.”
For some youth this meant learning about their own ancestors, but for many it meant learning about another culture and its history.
“It was really fun to get together with other youth from other wards and learn about a whole new culture. It was great to help some of my friends honor their ancestors,” said Devon Tenney, 15, of the Aiea Ward. “We were also able to look to the past for strength. It was really inspirational.”
Devon was part of the group that represented Aotearoa, or New Zealand. Other islands represented that night were Tahiti, Tonga, Samoa, Hawaii, and Fiji.
“We learned the cultures’ songs and also their stories,” said Robert Landgraf, from the Nuuanu Ward. “It’s important that our ancestors were strong in the gospel, so we can follow their example.”
The ho‘ike helped youth learn about other cultures and customs and also strengthened their testimonies.
“The best part of the ho‘ike was that we learned that no matter where the gospel is, whether it is in Aotearoa, Samoa, or Tahiti, the gospel is the same and the Spirit is just as strong,” said Talia Fermantez of the Pearlridge Ward.
While the performance night was fun, the hours of rehearsal were what really brought these youth together.
“My favorite part was the practices because it really helped the youth get closer. We practiced with other wards, and we are closer now,” said Kalima Watson from the Kalihi Ward. “This experience shows the unification of our youth. We can all come together and do something amazing despite our diversities.”
Elder Yoshihiko Kikuchi of the Seventy was in attendance that night and shared his thoughts on the event. “We see today these faithful, young, wholesome, beautiful people demonstrating the Spirit of our Heavenly Father. It is pleasing unto Him today and is a glorious inspiration to us.”

It had all begun under the stars and the moon one night in Wyoming in a mad flight of spinning wheels and flying shadows known forever after as the “midnight ride of the Orem 15th.” The quorum was on a camping trip and a few priests brought along their motorcycles. One night about bedtime their adviser, Dave Anderson, jumped into the saddle, called his cohorts to horse, and they flew away over mountains and moonlit meadows like so many Paul Reveres. The night seemed to be alive. More animals than they had ever seen stood watching them pass as if hypnotized by the string of moving lights.
They got back to camp about 2:00 A.M., feeling that they were much more than just a few people assigned to the same quorum. They were friends.
Fired by the enthusiasm of the midnight riders, the whole quorum joined in, and in the weeks that followed they framed a lot of territory between handlebars.

In the western part of the state of New York near Palmyra is a prominent hill known as the “hill Cumorah.” (Morm. 6:6.) On July twenty-fifth of this year, as I stood on the crest of that hill admiring with awe the breathtaking panorama which stretched out before me on every hand, my mind reverted to the events which occurred in that vicinity some twenty-five centuries ago—events which brought to an end the great Jaredite nation.
As I contemplated this tragic scene from the crest of Cumorah and viewed the beautiful land of the Restoration as it appears today, I cried in my soul, “How could it have happened?”
The answer came immediately as I remembered that some fifteen to twenty centuries before their destruction, as the small group of their ancestors was being divinely led from the tower of Babel, the Lord “would that they should come forth even unto [this] land of promise, which was choice above all other lands, which the Lord God had preserved for a righteous people.
“And he had sworn in his wrath unto the brother of Jared [their prophet-leader], that whoso should possess this land … from that time henceforth and forever, should serve him, the true and only God, or they should be swept off when the fulness of his wrath should come upon them.
“And now, we can behold the decrees of God concerning this land,” wrote the ancient prophet-historian, “that it is a land of promise; and whatsoever nation shall possess it shall serve God, or they shall be swept off when the fulness of his wrath shall come upon them. And the fulness of his wrath cometh upon them when they are ripened in iniquity.
“For behold, this is a land which is choice above all other lands; wherefore he that doth possess it shall serve God or shall be swept off; for it is the everlasting decree of God.” (Ether 2:7–10.)

Certainly Sister Sylvia Rosen has learned the power of faithful patience. Sylvia is a young single mother from Utah with four children, one of whom is affected by a severe developmental disorder resembling autism. At a time of already great challenge in her life, she was diagnosed with advanced cancer. With renewed faith in our Heavenly Father, she let go of some activities and devoted herself to her top priorities: taking care of her family and pursuing medical treatment for her condition.

Today she continues to struggle with life’s challenges, but all her activities are mediated by a beautiful spirit of waiting on the Lord. As her health permits, she makes gifts for friends and delivers meals to neighbors in need of comfort. The more she gives to others, the more peaceful becomes her countenance. “I need all my faith and patience,” she says. “I am fighting for my life.”

Sister Rosen has learned the truth of Isaiah’s promise: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles” (Isa. 40:31).

(23) M. Joseph Brough’s father hears wise guidance from his mother.

One of the reasons why Cooper loves his brother so much is because Coleman is often able to talk to him more easily than he is able to talk to others. Coleman has a condition called autism, which sometimes makes it difficult for him to communicate with other people.
Some children with autism cannot speak at all. Although Coleman can speak, he has had to work hard to learn how to share his feelings with others.
He likes to do many of the same things other kids do. He especially likes to draw. He first started drawing happy and sad faces when he was two years old. This helped him share his feelings before he was able to do so with words. Coleman also likes to play baseball and practice karate.

For nine years Professor Marvin Hill and I had worked on the book Carthage Conspiracy, which concerns the 1845 court trial of the murderers of Joseph Smith. We had several different sources of minutes on the trial, some bearing their author’s name and others unsigned. The fullest set of minutes was unsigned, but because we had located them in the Church Historian’s Office, we were sure they were the minutes kept by George Watt, the Church’s official scribe who was sent to record the proceedings of the trial. We so stated in seven drafts of our manuscript and analyzed all of our sources on that assumption.

Finally, the book was completed, and within a few weeks the final manuscript would be sent to the publisher. As I sat in my office one Saturday afternoon, I felt impelled to go through the pile of unexamined books and pamphlets accumulated on the table behind my desk. At the very bottom of a pile of 50 or 60 publications, I found a printed catalog of the contents of the Wilford C. Wood Museum, which Professor LaMar Berrett, the author, had sent to me a year and a half earlier. As I quickly flipped through the pages of this catalog of Church history manuscripts, my eyes fell on a page describing the manuscript of the trial minutes we had attributed to George Watt. This catalog page told how Wilford Wood had purchased the original of that set of minutes in Illinois and had given the Church the typewritten version we had obtained from the Church Historian.

We immediately visited the Wilford Wood Museum in Woods Cross, Utah, and obtained additional information which enabled us to determine that the minutes we had thought were the official Church source had been prepared by one of the lawyers for the defense. With this knowledge we returned to the Church Historian’s Office and were able to locate for the first time George Watt’s official and highly authentic set of minutes on the trial. This discovery saved us from a grievous error in the identification of one of our major sources and also permitted us to enrich the contents of our book significantly. The impression I received that day in my office is a cherished example of the way the Lord will help us in our righteous professional pursuits when we qualify for the impressions of his Spirit.

Just five years ago, in August 1975, thousands of Japanese Saints assembled in Tokyo for the first area conference in Asia of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The meetings were held in the Budokan, a large public assembly hall centrally located in the heart of the metropolis and capable of seating thousands of people. On this memorable date, President Spencer W. Kimball opened the conference with the building filled to capacity and announced that a temple of the Lord would be built in Japan. As President Kimball made this announcement, the audience gasped and an excited murmur filled the air. Many of the Saints wept as they were filled with the spirit. They were witnessing the culmination of prayer, faith and hope. They envisioned where instructions from the Most High will be received, and will be so constructed as to enable all of the functions of the Priesthood to be fully exercised. They were witnessing the development of events which are unfolding in these latter days of fulfillment of prophecy.
With President Kimball’s announcement, the necessary steps were taken for the temple construction. Servants of the Lord were sent out to find a plot of land to build the temple. Several sites were considered and after much deliberation and prayer, it was decided that the temple would be located on the site of the old Tokyo Mission Home. This building and land had been purchased by the Church shortly after the end of World War II and had since been used by thousands of missionaries. For many of these missionaries, the old home was the first place they stayed upon arrival in Japan. Most would testify that many sacred and spiritual experiences were manifested here.
Seemingly this sacred and hallowed ground was divinely chosen for the construction of the House of the Lord. The site borders a beautifully landscaped Arisugawa Memorial Park along the eastern frontage separated only by a road leading from the Hiroo Subway Station which is just a few minutes walking distance away.
With the construction site selected and approved, design drawings were prepared under the direction of the church architect, Brother Emil B. Fetzer. As these were being drawn, people in Tokyo were busy gearing up for the months and years of difficult negotiations which would be necessary to obtain construction permits to build the temple in the Minami Azabu district, which is an affluent area of Tokyo with neighboring foreign diplomatic missions and embassies. Negotiations with area residents to gain approval for building the temple went slowly. Many of the local people worried about the effects the new building would have on life in the area. One big problem was conforming to the “Sunshine Law” in Tokyo, which requires a certain amount of compensation for any amount of sunlight which is lost due to the shadow cast by multi-story construction.
The months passed following President Kimball’s announcement. Months turned to years and two of the close neighbors continued to put up road blocks to impede the construction of the temple. Time and again word was passed among the Saints that everything was cleared and construction would soon begin. But new problems would arise which prevented the work from commencing. As an example, the church architects learned that the Japanese construction requirements were much more stringent in many respects than anticipated. This was mainly due to the frequency of earthquakes and typhoons in the islands of Japan. These building codes were found to be quite different from the customary standard codes and considerable additional study and architectural review were necessary to make sure that their plans did not conflict with the building codes of Japan.
In the spring of 1978, the decision was made to commence with the construction of the Tokyo Temple, though there were still many problems to be resolved. There were pockets of resistance among some of the neighbors, but it was mandatory to have on record a “commencement of construction”. This phase of work though not fully designed was the only assurance that the temple could be constructed as designed by the Church architect. The structure included a full basement, four floors above ground and a 25 meter symbol tower built into the penthouse structure located on the temple roof to house the mechanical controls. The currently approved construction permit would expire if the design did not conform with any of the newly promulgated sunshine laws. We were concerned that all of our design plans would have to be abandoned and a completely new design of less stature would have to be drawn up. To realize benefits of time and effort expended in the past in planning and design, the decision of Brother McPhie, Director of Temples and Special Projects, to proceed was an answer to our prayers. Missionaries were vacated from the mission home to start preparation for the demolition work. Kajima Corporation was awarded the Tokyo Temple construction contract and the church issued a notice to proceed commencing March 10, 1978.

An inspired decision is when individuals and families let God Prevail in their lives. I was a 10-year-old boy when we made the inspired decision to accept the Lord’s invitation to join His true Church. With my siblings Tomas, Nodel, and Victor, we followed our parents Francisco and Agripina into the waters of baptism on the morning of March 8, 1981.
My uncle Jacinto, my mother’s brother, was the first in our family to meet the missionaries and accept their message. After his baptism, he introduced us to the missionaries. My parents were members of a prominent faith, and going to church was a family matter and a priority to them. Growing up, I saw how they exemplified their faith by teaching us to pray daily as a family and attend church regularly. Though he had vices, my father taught us to believe in God.
Because I was very young, I did not fully understand the things the missionaries were teaching us. My siblings and I were so eager to join our parents every time the missionaries visited. My father was a chain smoker and it was hard for him to give up his habit but that changed when Elder Richard Irving and Elder Kurt Trotter taught them the Word of Wisdom.
“Your parents were seriously listening to the message, and when we extended the invitation to obey the Word of Wisdom, your father agreed and committed to obey the Lord’s Law of Health and refrain from smoking,” related Brother Irving when we met 43 years later. “As an expression of his faith in the Savior Jesus Christ and his desire to follow Him, your father handed and surrendered to us the pack of cigarettes he had in his possession,” added Brother Irving.

Giving by Shirley Hughes The little girl and her family give each other many things. Once in a while a bad thing is given, like when her little brother gives the big castle she made out of blocks a big swipe. But mostly they’re good things, like presents and hugs.

One day at lunchtime, some girls from my class were hiding another girl’s coat. They invited me to help them hide it. I knew it was wrong, so I said no and then I watched where they hid it. When I was sure my classmates were gone, I got the coat and took it back to our classroom. The owner of the coat was there, looking all over for it. I felt glad that I brought back her coat.

Last year Chantal auditioned for a prestigious “gala” concert where the press attends and reports on the best new talent in Montreal. Chantal passed the audition and was scheduled to perform. But when she found out that it was to be held on a Sunday, she withdrew from the concert.
“I fasted about it,” recalls Chantal. “Even though I really wanted to sing at the gala, if the Spirit says don’t go, you don’t go. So I didn’t. The important thing is to always follow what Heavenly Father wants us to do. But I know because I listened to the Spirit, other opportunities have come my way.”
One of these opportunities was to sing for a seminary film produced by the Church last year. Both sisters were asked to help with French translations for the film. Chantal told the producer she liked to sing, and was asked to record several songs for the project. She went to the studio, put on the earphones, and surprised everybody by doing an outstanding job in record time. A technician told her she had professional talent, which was encouraging.
“If I sing professionally, my commitment to God will always take first priority,” she says. “I look at my singing as missionary work.”

Karol Pipher, from Milford, Utah, has jumped more than 50 times. “Your logbook helps you remember how you felt,” says Karol. “Once I wrote: ‘Today I did a three point landing: feet, seat, and head. It hurt.’”
On a later jump, after more intensive instruction by the trainer, she wrote, “I finally did everything just like Bill said, and it felt good.”

President Russell M. Nelson once explained how he approached choices about keeping the Sabbath day holy:
“I learned from the scriptures that my conduct and my attitude on the Sabbath constituted a sign between me and my Heavenly Father. With that understanding, I no longer needed lists of dos and don’ts. When I had to make a decision whether or not an activity was appropriate for the Sabbath, I simply asked myself, ‘What sign do I want to give to God?’ That question made my choices about the Sabbath day crystal clear” (Apr. 2015 general conference [Ensign or Liahona, May 2015, 130]).

Another time a man came to work on our house. My wife thanked him when he was done. “We’d like to give you a gift,” she said. She gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon.

The man became upset. He didn’t understand what we believe. He thought we didn’t believe in Jesus Christ.

Chris was brave and shared his testimony with the man. Chris said he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He said he believed in Jesus.