Gospel Story Finder

A call to his high school principal’s office did not mean trouble for Kelter Stenzel Fittipaldi, of the Curitiba Brazil São Lourenço Stake. Kelter did not have the best grades in school, but his principal said he exhibited good behavior and good fellowship. He had been selected to represent his school. He would be going to Chile with the possibility of meeting the president of that country.

Besides the gifts the school had prepared for the Chilean president, Kelter and his mother wrapped a special gift in gold paper for him—a Book of Mormon. But only four out of the fifty high school delegates from various countries would actually get to meet the president. Kelter prayed he would be able to give his gift, and his prayers were answered. He was one of the four. “Of the gifts I presented to the President of Chile, the golden gift was the most precious of all,” he said.

Weeks went by, and in our history class, with the same teacher, Mrs. Protschka, we began to study the ancient civilizations of America.
One night while doing my homework I felt the strongest desire to speak in class again about the Book of Mormon. For a moment I tried to put the thought aside, because I saw no way to do this. Then I knelt in prayer and asked Heavenly Father to grant me an opportunity to do so. After praying, I felt I should again prepare a discourse on the Book of Mormon.
The next day as Mrs. Protschka began class I raised my hand, planning to ask her if I could share some further comments on the Book of Mormon.
But before I could say anything, she looked at me and said, “Yes, Robert. Last night when I was preparing my lesson for today, I suddenly thought of you, and wondered if you wouldn’t have anything else to tell us about the Book of Mormon?”
I presented my speech, this time focusing mainly on Christ’s visit to the ancient Americas. I quoted from a book called Gods,Graves, and Scholars, which relates the legend of the Great White God Quetzalcoatl. The similarity between Christ and this Indian God was obvious. Again, I told my friends and teacher that Christ had indeed visited the people in the Americas; he had indeed taught them the gospel.
At the conclusion of my speech, Mrs. Protschka wrote on the blackboard: “The Book of Mormon is the best theory of how the ancient civilizations of America came to be,” and asked us to write it down in our notebooks. What a triumph! I felt like jumping for joy. God hears and answers prayers. He is indeed a God of miracles. And he knows how to soften the hearts of men for his purposes.

I believe most of us are familiar with the sad account of Thomas B. Marsh and his wife, Elizabeth. Brother Marsh was one of the first modern-day Apostles called after the Church was restored to the earth. He eventually became President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
While the Saints were in Far West, Missouri, Elizabeth Marsh, Thomas’s wife, and her friend Sister Harris decided they would exchange milk in order to make more cheese than they otherwise could. To be certain all was done fairly, they agreed that they should not save what were called the strippings, but that the milk and strippings should all go together. Strippings came at the end of the milking and were richer in cream.
Sister Harris was faithful to the agreement, but Sister Marsh, desiring to make some especially delicious cheese, saved a pint of strippings from each cow and sent Sister Harris the milk without the strippings. This caused the two women to quarrel. When they could not settle their differences, the matter was referred to the home teachers to settle. They found Elizabeth Marsh guilty of failure to keep her agreement. She and her husband were upset with the decision, and the matter was then referred to the bishop for a Church trial. The bishop’s court decided that the strippings were wrongfully saved and that Sister Marsh had violated her covenant with Sister Harris.
Thomas Marsh appealed to the high council, and the men comprising this council confirmed the bishop’s decision. He then appealed to the First Presidency of the Church. Joseph Smith and his counselors considered the case and upheld the decision of the high council.
Elder Thomas B. Marsh, who sided with his wife through all of this, became angrier with each successive decision—so angry, in fact, that he went before a magistrate and swore that the Mormons were hostile toward the state of Missouri. His affidavit led to—or at least was a factor in—Governor Lilburn Boggs’s cruel extermination order, which resulted in over 15,000 Saints being driven from their homes, with all the terrible suffering and consequent death that followed. All of this occurred because of a disagreement over the exchange of milk and cream.5
After 19 years of rancor and loss, Thomas B. Marsh made his way to the Salt Lake Valley and asked President Brigham Young for forgiveness. Brother Marsh also wrote to Heber C. Kimball, First Counselor in the First Presidency, of the lesson he had learned. Said Brother Marsh: “The Lord could get along very well without me and He … lost nothing by my falling out of the ranks; But O what have I lost?! Riches, greater riches than all this world or many planets like this could afford.”6
Apropos are the words of the poet John Greenleaf Whittier: “Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: ‘It might have been!’”7

I had an interesting experience many years ago as my family and I returned from our mission in Brazil. We had nine children, and the ship we traveled on carried about forty passengers, so we were very conspicuous. It turned out that there were three other ministers on board, and within a few days each of the three approached me and inquired if we could talk about what the Mormons believe. They didn’t seem to be much interested in what each other believed, but they all wanted to know what we believed.
With some hesitation, because I had little experience with ministers of other faiths, I arranged an interview when all four of us could sit down together. It turned out to be very congenial and consisted primarily of them asking questions and me giving the answers. I had supposed that they would come out with strong arguments supported by scriptures that would make it difficult for me to maintain my position. But in their friendly, congenial way they just asked questions, and it turned out that I knew the answer to each question. I hadn’t realized that I was that well informed.
Within a few minutes, as we talked, they began to turn to each other and make comments like, “Isn’t it interesting? He has an answer for any question you can ask.” They repeated that comment over and over again, and we ended our discussion on a very friendly basis.
Two or three days later, however, one of these men engaged me in conversation and said, “I have been thinking of what you told us the other day and I wonder if it is right to know everything. I think maybe you know too much. I don’t believe the Lord wants us to know it all.” I could tell that he was offended. A day or two later he spoke to me again. He said, “I’ve been considering what you told me, and I have come to the conclusion that what you teach is a very dangerous heresy.”
I wasn’t prepared, as I ought to have been, for that kind of comment, and with hurt feelings I asked him why it was that other religions didn’t seem willing to place the Latter-day Saints in the same fellowship with themselves. He turned on me almost in anger and said, “Because I want you to know it is a two-way street.” Then I understood. We do not fellowship them. We do not recognize them as the true church of Jesus Christ, and therefore we offend them in some things we teach. I don’t think it should be otherwise, but he had reason for the feelings that he had. I wasn’t in a position, being unprepared, to smooth his feelings.

One of President Smith’s sons gave this poignant insight into his father’s character and to the source of President Smith’s great inner strength:
“As children, so frequently we would hear him say, ‘If only the people in the world would understand the trials, the tribulations, the sins our Lord took upon himself for our benefit.’ Whenever he would refer to this, tears would come into his eyes.
“A few years ago, as I sat alone with my father in his study, I observed that he had been in deep meditation. I hesitated to break the silence, but finally he spoke. ‘Oh, my son, I wish you could have been with me last Thursday as I met with my Brethren in the temple. Oh, if you could have heard them testify of their love for their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.’ And then he lowered his head, and tears streamed from his face and dropped to his shirt. Then, after many seconds, without as much as raising his head, but moving his head back and forth, he said, ‘Oh, how I love my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!’”

In October 1835 he was called to the bedside of his sister-in-law, Mary Bailey Smith, who was confined in childbirth “in a very dangerous situation.” After sending his brother, Don Carlos, for the doctor, Joseph “went out into the field and bowed before the Lord and called upon him in mighty prayer in her behalf.” Whereupon, “the word of the Lord came unto me saying, ‘my servant Frederick [the doctor] shall come and shall have wisdom given him to deal prudently, and my handmaiden shall be delivered of a living child and be spared.’” The doctor did arrive and within a short time the child was safely delivered. “And thus what God had manifested to me was fulfilled every whit.”28

As I grew older, I continued to be taught that same important lesson in different contexts. When I was 14 or 15, my older brother thought I should learn to drive. Without any training at all, he threw me the keys and told me I needed to drive him to the store. Everything was going fine until we started heading home and needed to make a right turn at a main intersection. Unfortunately, a police officer was turning left from the opposite direction at the same time and I ran him out of the single lane we were in. I learned quickly that just because you can drive without training or a license doesn’t mean you should. I also learned about the principle of mercy that day when the police officer let me off the hook.

Not only did Joseph Smith have that temperament, but he found it difficult to abide opposite attitudes, especially when they arose from false traditions. On one occasion ministers came to him intent on tying him up in scriptural analysis, as they had bragged they would do. They kept trying to push him into a corner, but each time he not only had answers but also questions for them that they couldn’t handle. Finally they became convinced it would be better if they left. As they went to the door, the Prophet preceded them. He went out, made a mark on the ground, and jumped. “Now gentlemen,” he said, “you haven’t bested me at the scriptures. See if you can best me at that.” They went away much incensed.31

“I remember more than 30 years ago when I was first called to be a visiting teacher, I was assigned a young woman who never came to church,” recalls Catherine Carr Humphrey of the Hillside Ward, Rancho Cucamonga California Stake. “She impressed me in those early 1970s as a hippie type. I faithfully went every month and knocked on her door. She would open the inside door but leave the screen door shut. I was never really sure what she looked like. She would not say anything. She would just stand there. I would look cheerful and say, ‘Hi, I’m Cathie, your visiting teacher.’ And as she would say nothing, I would say, ‘Well, our lesson today is on …’ and try briefly to say something uplifting and friendly. When I was through, she would say, ‘Thank you,’ and shut the door.
“I did not like going there. I felt embarrassed. But I went because I wanted to be obedient. After about seven or eight months of this, I got a phone call from the bishop.
“‘Cathie,’ he said, ‘the young woman you visit teach just had a baby who lived only a few days. She and her husband are going to have a graveside service, and she asked me to see if you would come and be there with her. She said you are her only friend.’
“I went to the cemetery. The young woman, her husband, the bishop, and I were at the graveside. That was all. I had seen her only once a month for a few minutes at a time. I hadn’t even been able to tell through the screen door that she was expecting a baby, yet even my inept but hopeful visiting had blessed us both.”

I hold in my hand a copy of the Book of Mormon. This is my 1970 vintage edition, and it is precious to me. By its appearance it is tired and worn, but no other book is as important to my life and my testimony as this one. Reading it, I gained a witness by the Spirit that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, that He is my Savior, that these scriptures are the word of God, and that the gospel is restored. Those truths rest deep within me. As the prophet Nephi said, “My soul delighteth in the things of the Lord.”
Left to right: Elder Ronald A. Rasband, young missionary; President Harold Wilkinson, president of the Eastern States Mission; and Elder Marion D. Hanks, General Authority Seventy.
Here is the back story. As a young missionary, I took the counsel of Elder Marion D. Hanks, who visited us in the Eastern States Mission. He was the former president of the British Mission, and two of his missionaries are on the stand this day: my dear Brethren Elder Jeffrey R. Holland and Elder Quentin L. Cook. Just as with his missionaries in England, he challenged us to read an unmarked copy of the Book of Mormon at least two times. I took up the task. The first reading I was to mark or underline everything that pointed to or testified of Jesus Christ. I used a red pencil, and I underlined many passages. The second time, Elder Hanks said to highlight principles and doctrine of the gospel, and this time I used blue to mark the scriptures. I read the Book of Mormon twice, as suggested, and then two more times, using yellow and black to mark passages that stood out to me. As you can see, I made many notations.
There was much more to my reading than just marking scriptures. With each reading of the Book of Mormon, front to back, I was filled with a profound love for the Lord. I felt a deeply rooted witness of the truth of His teachings and how they apply to “this day.” This book fits its title, “Another Testament of Jesus Christ.” With that study and the spiritual witness that was received, I became a Book of Mormon missionary and a disciple of Jesus Christ.

Marie: It’s surprising how easily others will be influenced by a positive example. At my high school graduation some of my friends were trying to talk me into going to a party where there would be a lot of drinking. I told them, “No, I’ve made a commitment in my life,” and explained to them why I wouldn’t go. Afterwards, their response surprised me. They said, “You know, you’re right; let’s do something else instead.”
Through this experience I learned that it is important that we don’t give the impression to others that we think we are better than they are, but that we convey to them instead, “We accept you as you are, even though we don’t agree with everything you do. We love and respect you and would like you to love and respect us also.”

It has already been more than 30 years since I came in contact with the missionaries. What a thrill, what an example they have been in my life! I was 16, I remember, when I met with them for the first time. During the summers we children had the habit of sitting at the front window with our mother and greeting our neighbors and friends as they walked up the hill in front of our house. That day we noticed two young men pushing their bicycles. They were different from the usual young people. In spite of the heat, they wore suit jackets, white shirts, and ties. We deduced that they were Americans from the way they looked. We were intrigued. What were they doing here in our city?
The next day they came and knocked on our door. We rushed, the four of us, to satisfy our curiosity. We let them in, and we learned quickly who they were and what they were doing. It was the beginning of an eternal story. Their smiles, love, enthusiasm, desire to help and to serve, obedience to the commandments, and love for the Lord impressed us greatly. We looked forward more and more to their presence, their spirit. They were not only teaching us about Indians and the Book of Mormon but also sharing their talents in the arts and sports. We started an eternal friendship.
Here I am 30 years later. Because of the example of these fine young men my life has changed, my perspective of life has changed. I have gained a testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ; I have learned to live according to the commandments of a living God; I love to follow a modern-day prophet and know his words come from God. Now I am responsible to see that the chain does not get broken, an eternal chain that was once started by Jesus Christ himself: “This is my gospel; and ye know the things that ye must do in my church; for the works which ye have seen me do that shall ye also do; for that which ye have seen me do even that shall ye do.” (3 Ne. 27:21.)

When I was in high school, many of my friends started smoking. I was the only member of the Church who belonged to that group of friends. They knew that I am a member of the Church. One time they asked me why I didn’t smoke. I just smiled and humbly answered, “We know that the Bible says our body is a temple, and it is a special gift given to us. Therefore, we need to love and care for the gift given to us because it comes from God.” They responded by saying that maybe I was right and that we need to care for our bodies. I shared my testimony about the Word of Wisdom with them. If we show care for our bodies, we will be blessed with good health and knowledge. I knew because of the expressions on their faces that they believed what I had shared with them. Since that day I have seen an improvement in them. Sharing your testimony with those who struggle with smoking can help them to choose the right.
Michael T., 18, Palawan, Philippines

Thirteen-year-old Jody Earnshaw climbs over the chute and with trembling knees carefully lowers herself onto the back of a holstein calf. Her hands, in green garden gloves, are wrapped in the rigging of the stamping animal. With a cry from her comrades and a shout from the stands, Jody explodes from the chute. Down the arena she goes—one second, two seconds—her hands still in the rigging as she fights to keep her balance on the twisting animal.
Not until eight seconds later does Jody slip from the holstein’s back, dodge its flying hooves, and roll into the dirt. She lies on the ground for only a moment before standing up. The crowd cheers wildly: “You did it! Jody, you did it!” A spectacular ride, her very first in rodeo competition.

One weekend I had the opportunity of attending a stake quarterly conference in Idaho. As a group of Primary children stood before the congregation and sang “I Am a Child of God,” I noticed three young Primary members on the front row singing but saying nothing vocally. They were deaf; they sang with their hands. No one heard them audibly, but we received their message. They touched my spirit deeply, and it was my privilege to tell them in front of the members of that stake that our Heavenly Father heard them. Even though vocally they had said nothing, they transmitted a memorable message. In moving silence they taught of the spirit, they taught of the mind, and they taught of the heart. They had not given up singing just because they had no voice. They had been taught to carry on.

The first I remember from my BYU freshman English class, where I had an excellent teacher. We wrote essays that were due every Friday, and, at that point, I hoped someday to be a writer. I had enjoyed some success with my writing during my 18 years. I had won a prize here and there, and my parents certainly thought I wrote well. So I welcomed writing that essay every week—at first.
Somehow my teacher was more critical than my parents were. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t seem to please him. Finally, one week I poured everything I had into three pages and handed it in, only to receive it back simply dripping with red ink and caustic comments about choosing something to write about that could be tackled in three pages. “Limit your subject,” he wrote, and “Write about something you understand!” There were exclamation points to help me see the fervor of his comments, and I was stunned to receive what I considered a failing grade. I had hoped to touch his heart with my stirring three-page treatise encompassing all anyone would need to know about democracy.

Samuel loved to watch television with Papá, especially on Saturdays. Papá worked hard all week. But on Saturday, Mamá cooked pastelitos de piña (pastries with pineapple filling) and they all watched TV together.
One Saturday night, they decided to watch a partido de fútbol (soccer game). But the game started late, and it would last for a long time. When the first half was over, the score was 0-0. Samuel wanted to keep watching. But he couldn’t stop yawning.
“Time for bed, Samuelito,” Mamá said gently. “You need to get some sleep so you can stay awake in church tomorrow.”
“But Mamá,” Samuel said, “it’s two of the best teams in Honduras!”
Papá looked at the clock. “All right. You can keep watching. But you need to get up on time tomorrow.”
The game got even more exciting in the second half. Samuel was wide awake now! He and Papá were both cheering. First there was a corner kick. Then the goalie made a great save. One team scored, and then the other. Before Samuel knew it, the game was over. It ended in a 1-1 tie.
The next morning, Samuel was so tired that he didn’t want to get out of bed. But he knew that going to church was important.
During sacrament meeting, Samuel started to fall asleep. His head kept nodding. Mamá poked him to help him stay awake. But he was so tired that he didn’t pay attention to the speakers.
“I think your Saturday is getting in the way of your Sunday,” Papá said.
In Primary, Samuel’s teacher talked about keeping the Sabbath day holy. She asked what the children could do to make Sunday special. Samuel thought for a minute. Then he said, “Go to bed on time on Saturday!”
When they got home after church, Samuel talked to Mamá and Papá. “I had fun watching the game last night,” Samuel said. “But I should have gone to bed earlier. I think we should use part of Saturday to get ready for Sunday.”
“I agree,” Papá said.
Mamá nodded. “Me too.”
The next Saturday, there was another game on TV.
“What should we do tonight?” Papá asked. “The game goes late again.”
“We could watch a movie instead,” Mamá said.
“Or we could go for a walk,” said Samuel.
“Is a walk OK with you?” Papá asked Mamá.
“Of course,” Mamá said. “It’s just nice to be together as a family.”
“And when we come home,” Samuel said, “we can all get a good night’s sleep. Then we’ll be ready for Sunday!”

Finally, I hope you will be joyful. My first international assignment as a counselor in the Young Women General Presidency came just a few weeks after my call. Ron and I traveled to the Caribbean Area. I admit to being quite nervous—I just didn’t want to mess anything up! Elder Jose L. Alonso, who was a counselor in the Caribbean Area Presidency, accompanied us as we visited six islands over a period of ten days. To say it was an incredible experience would be a vast understatement. At the end of our trip, I asked Elder Alonso what I could do differently as I moved forward in my new calling. I knew I had much to learn, and I hoped for some helpful, honest feedback. After some coaxing, he finally threw his hands up over his head and, with a big smile on his face and an animated voice, he said, “Enjoy! This is the gospel of Jesus Christ, and it is the gospel of joy.” He then suggested that as I meet with members of the Church throughout the world I remind them of this divine truth and to live and serve with joy!

Mackenzie felt miserable. Her best friend, Bekah, had moved all the way to Texas with her family. Mackenzie tried to have fun without Bekah, but it just wasn’t the same. Playing by herself just wasn’t fun. Mackenzie missed having someone to giggle with and play superheroes and princesses together. She missed Bekah.
Without Bekah, Mackenzie had no one to show her drawings to or sit with in Primary. She liked the other kids in her class, but none of them were her best friend.
One night Mackenzie lay in her bed, hugging her favorite stuffed animal, Bunny. She counted all the days Bekah had been gone. “I’m lonely,” she told Bunny. “What am I going to do?” Tears filled her eyes.
Bunny didn’t have any answers for her. But Mackenzie knew someone who did.
She knelt down beside her bed. Then she folded her arms and bowed her head. “Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “please help me find a new best friend so I won’t be lonely. Please help me be brave enough to talk to people.”
A few weeks later, Mackenzie’s parents invited someone over for dinner. His name was Brother Bryce. He was new in the ward. During dinner, Brother Bryce turned to Mackenzie and said, “My family is still in Colorado while I look for a house here, but I have a daughter about your age. Would you like to talk to her on the phone?”
Mackenzie’s heart started pounding. What am I going to say? What if she thinks I’m boring? Then Mackenzie remembered her prayer. Heavenly Father can help me be brave.
“Sure,” Mackenzie said in a small voice.
Brother Bryce pulled out his phone and called his family. Then he handed the phone to Mackenzie. She bit her lip nervously.
“You can sit on the couch while you talk,” Dad suggested with a smile.
Mackenzie nodded and headed to the living room. She sat on the couch and hugged a pillow tightly. She took a deep breath and raised the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” Mackenzie asked.
A quiet voice answered, “Hi.”
Mackenzie took another deep breath. “My name’s Mackenzie. What’s yours?”
“Hannah,” the girl said after a short pause. “Do you like books?”
Mackenzie smiled. “I love books. Do you like superheroes?”
“Superheroes are my favorite!” Hannah’s voice sounded excited. “What about princesses?”
“Definitely!” Mackenzie said with a grin.
Before they knew it, Mackenzie and Hannah were talking about all kinds of things. They could have talked forever, but Brother Bryce had to leave. And his phone battery was about to die!
“I can’t wait for you to get here!” Mackenzie said.
“Me too!” Hannah said. “You’re really cool!”
That night, Mackenzie knelt beside her bed with a huge smile. “Thank you, Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “for helping me find a brand-new friend.”
Mackenzie and Hannah have been best friends for 15 years. They grew up and went to college together. They’re still best friends today!

The humbling experiences of the last year of my marriage were particularly difficult. Learning about my spouse’s infidelity, opening my private life to my bishop and stake president, dealing with my husband’s decision to leave, beginning divorce proceedings, and watching my children suffer because their father was no longer in the home were only the beginning of what seemed to be wave after wave of challenges. I also lost the close relationship I had enjoyed with my in-laws; had to seek financial assistance from my family, ward, and state; agonized over an injury to one of my daughters; endured a cancer scare of my own; recovered from a serious car accident; struggled to complete my bachelor’s degree; and suffered job-search disappointments. By the end of that year, I was stripped of pride. I felt unencumbered before the Lord—humbled by a “sense of [my] nothingness” (Mosiah 4:5) and by a complete dependence on Him as my only anchor in a sea of change.
Yet instead of feeling despondent, I saw my state as an opportunity for Heavenly Father to work His will in my life. I began to understand the relationship between adversity and spiritual refinement. During my troubles, I frequently asked myself, What would Heavenly Father want me to do in this situation? I sought specific answers through prayer, scripture study, pondering, and temple attendance. Through this process of seeking and receiving divine guidance, I acquired increased patience and deeper trust in Heavenly Father.