Gospel Story Finder

Through their tellings, I experienced that defining time when each received a sure witness and consecrated his life to the Lord.

LeGrand was fourteen when he heard two returned missionaries bear testimony in his ward. The Lord touched his heart with such power that, returning home, he knelt beside his bed and asked God to help him live worthy to be a missionary when old enough to go.

When the time came, he was on crutches and in pain. At Church headquarters he was told to go home until well. He said, “You book me and I’ll be ready!”

His father blessed him and he went—ailing in body, strong in spirit, but yet having to battle the Dutch language.

During my professional career, I helped the heirs of a noble couple settle their estate. The estate was not large, but it was the fruit of many years of hard work and sacrifice. Their children were all decent, God-fearing people who had been taught to live the saving principles of the Savior. But when it came to dividing up the property, a dispute developed about who should get what. Even though there was nothing of great value to fight about, feelings of selfishness and greed caused a rift among some of the family members that never healed and continued into the next generation. How tragic that the legacy offered by these wonderful parents turned out to be so destructive of family unity and love among their children. I learned from this that selfishness and greed bring bitterness and contention; on the other hand sacrifice and giving bring peace and contentment.

One of my best friends in high school was very rowdy and wild. He was into all the wrong stuff. I tried encouraging him to come to church and to change his ways, but he didn’t listen to me and his problems multiplied. I didn’t hear from him for a long time. Then one day he came over to my house unexpectedly. He had been in jail and said while he was there he thought, why can’t I be more like Tom and stay out of trouble.
I think the best way we can help people is by being a good example to them and not worrying about being a little self-righteous. Just be yourself.

Some years ago, while visiting the members and missionaries in Australia, I witnessed a sublime example depicting how a treasury of testimony can bless and sanctify a home. The mission president, Horace D. Ensign, and I were traveling by plane the long distance from Sydney to Darwin, where I was to break ground for our first chapel in that city. En route we had a scheduled fueling stop at a remote mining community named Mt. Isa. As we entered the small airport, a woman and her two young children approached. She said, “I am Judith Louden, a member of the Church, and these are my children. We thought you might be on this flight, so we have come to visit with you during your brief stopover.” She explained that her husband was not a member of the Church and that she and the children were indeed the only members in the entire area. We shared experiences and bore testimony.
Time passed. As we prepared to reboard, Sister Louden looked so forlorn, so alone. She pleaded, “You can’t go yet; I have so missed the Church.” Suddenly, over the loudspeaker there was announced a 30-minute mechanical delay of our flight. Sister Louden whispered, “My prayer has been answered.” She then asked how she might influence her husband to show an interest in the gospel. We counseled her to include him in their home Primary lesson each week and be to him a living testimony of the gospel. I mentioned we would send to her a subscription to the Children’s Friend and additional helps for her family teaching. We urged that she never give up on her husband.
We departed Mt. Isa, a city to which I have never returned. I shall, however, always hold dear in memory that sweet mother and those precious children extending a tear-filled expression and a fond wave of gratitude and good-bye.
Several years later, while speaking at a priesthood leadership meeting in Brisbane, Australia, I emphasized the significance of gospel scholarship in the home and the importance of living the gospel and being examples of the truth. I shared with the men assembled the account of Sister Louden and the impact her faith and determination had had on me. As I concluded, I said, “I suppose I’ll never know if Sister Louden’s husband ever joined the Church, but he couldn’t have found a better model to follow than his wife.”
One of the leaders raised his hand, then stood and declared, “Brother Monson, I am Richard Louden. The woman of whom you speak is my wife. The children [his voice quavered] are our children. We are a forever family now, thanks in part to the persistence and the patience of my dear wife. She did it all.” Not a word was spoken. The silence was broken only by sniffles and marked by the sight of tears.

I started reading the Book of Mormon for the first time when I became a Beehive. I read it from cover to cover and thought that would be the end. But I was so wrong. My life seemed to be missing something. So I decided to start reading it again, this time paying closer attention. As I did, my life was filled with the light that had dimmed since I had finished it. I understood more and came to really love it. Read it all the time, and you are ensuring yourself a life of goodness and light.
Kellie M., age 15, Utah, USA

Elder Kimball called on another occasion. “Bishop Monson,” he said, “I have learned that there are two Samoan boys living in a downtown hotel. They’re going to get in trouble. Will you make them members of your ward?”

I found these two boys at midnight sitting on the steps of the hotel playing ukuleles and singing. They became members of our ward. Eventually each of them married in the temple and served valiantly. Their influence for good was widespread.

City of Sydney Youth Band: “We were looking for a band that didn’t practice or perform on Sundays,” explains Karen Mauger, 17, a clarinet player from the Castle Hill Ward. “The Aleknas (another LDS family) told us about a band that had changed practices from Sundays to Fridays.”
Since then, thanks at least in part to seven young Latter-day Saints who joined, the band has grown from 18 to 57 members and won several awards.
More important, “the LDS kids have gained the respect of other band members and their parents,” says Marnie Alekna, 17, of the Baulkham Hills Ward. The band steadfastly refuses to practice or perform on Sundays.

Sometimes Eugene’s world got awful noisy. There was the rattle of Clancey Sawyer’s milk wagon and Hector Moore’s ice truck over the rutty dirt road in front of his house. The clatter of Mr. Gunnerson’s old Model T. His Aunt Althea’s loud laughter and nonstop talking whenever she came to visit. (Eugene loved Aunt Althea, but she could outtalk any salesperson he’d ever heard!) And all the other noises the world had to offer in 1932.
His four brothers and two sisters could cause a lot of racket, too, especially when they all wanted to listen to different radio shows at the same time. Or when their friends came over to play and they fought over the stereoscope. If that wasn’t enough, sometimes Widow Willowby’s hound dog howled and barked all night. All that noise was enough to drive any kid up a tree.
And that’s just where Eugene’s favorite quiet place was—in a tree. Not just any tree, but the big old fig tree in the field, a little way behind Eugene’s house. His father and older brother, Vern, had built him a tree house in its strong, leafy branches. And just last week, his father slept with him in the tree house.
They played the imagination game before sleep overtook them, his father telling him that the fireflies that danced in the night reminded him of children’s prayers on their way to heaven. Eugene said that the moon and stars were holes in a big black curtain in God’s window. On the other side, God was staying up late with a big lamp on, sitting in a rocking chair and making a list of all his children who had problems. And that the creaking they heard was not the fig tree limbs in the stiff night breeze but the creaking of His rocker.
Just as Nephi and other prophets of old at times had gone high into the mountains to be alone in order to pray, Eugene liked to climb up into his quiet place in the big fig tree. Sometimes it was to think out his thoughts, sometimes to read his scriptures, sometimes to just relax, and sometimes to pray about things. …
Like the time Grandpa got real sick and had to go to the hospital. Everyone fasted and prayed for him, including Eugene. He climbed up into his quiet place and prayed for a whole hour.
Two weeks later, Eugene’s father lay in the tree house and cried. Eugene heard him because he was there, too. Everyone was happy because although the doctor had said that Grandpa was going to die, he got better. Eugene climbed up into the tree and lay close to his father. Neither of them spoke. At least not out loud. They were busy thanking Heavenly Father in their hearts, warm tears trickling down their faces.
After a while, Eugene asked his father why he had come to the tree instead of staying at the house with everyone else. “Everyone needs a quiet place where they can go to be alone sometimes. Even grown-ups. I don’t have one,” he said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I came up here for a few minutes.”
Eugene was happy that his father thought having a quiet place was important.
“Besides,” his father added with a wink, “with Aunt Althea at the house to greet your grandpa coming home from the hospital, it’s a bit noisy there. I needed a moment alone to thank the Lord for your granddad’s recovery.”
A few moments later, Eugene walked back to the house with his father. The back screen door whined as they joined the others. Eugene paused to look back over his shoulder at the old tree. It was like an old friend—warm, inviting, peaceful. And always there when he needed it. He smiled, went inside, gave Aunt Althea a big hug, then hurried over to Grandpa’s bed.
“Now, some things are best prayed about in private. … Praying alone … helps us open our hearts and be totally honest and honorable in expressing all of our hopes and attitudes. …
“The Savior at times found it necessary to slip away into the mountains or desert to pray. …
“We, too, ought to find, where possible, a room, a corner, a closet … where we can [pray] in secret. …”President Spencer W. Kimball(Ensign, October 1981, pages 3–6.)

“Three. Two. One. Blastoff!” Kimber Gabryszak was thrust back into her seat as the space shuttle simulator took off. As mission specialist on this flight, she later “repaired” the Hubble telescope.
The space camp in Huntsville, Alabama, sponsored by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, is for students in the seventh through ninth grades. The camp is a long way from Kimber’s home on the banks of the Yentna River in Alaska. Kimber, 14, lives in a two-story wooden lodge, the Yentna River Station, built by her father and mother. The lodge is only 70 air miles from Anchorage, but there are no roads to be found here—only trees, water, moose, and bear. Visitors come by boat, plane, or snow machine—depending on the season and the height of the river. That’s why the Gabryszaks don’t leave their bush paradise very often. Kimber, who has lived here since she was 15 months old, manages to get to Willow, the closest “town,” about every two months. She visits with friends and goes to the movies.
So why and how did Kimber get in a space simulator? Kimber wants to be an astronaut. The oldest of six children, she is mostly self-taught through the state’s home-study curriculum. When the chance to go to space camp came, she worked hard, saving money and soliciting sponsors. “I needed to see if I really want to be an astronaut,” she says. “I love science. I want to work on a space station.” One of her prized possessions is the light blue space uniform she brought back from camp.
In Alaska, Kimber’s typical day starts at 7:30 A.M., with the family’s animals. “If they don’t eat, we don’t eat,” she says. So the 17 chickens, ten chicks, two cats, four dogs, goldfish, guinea pig, and goat are tended to. After breakfast, there is firewood to split, snow to shovel, the lodge to clean, and younger children to look after. When Kimber begins home-study seminary, her day will begin 90 minutes earlier.
At night, the Gabryszaks have prayer and scripture reading. They just finished the Book of Mormon and have started it again. On Sundays, the family gathers for a meeting where they sing hymns, accompanied by Kimber on the recorder. She’ll read and study her own lesson, and then help her two younger sisters and brother with Primary lessons.
One of the highlights of her summer is going to girls’ camp with members of the Wasilla Stake. “Sometimes it’s hard not to be part of a class,” she adds. “I went to seminary in town one morning. It was neat. Everyone was friends and they were doing neat things with the scriptures. Here, there’s no one my age to do that with.”
For now, Kimber is content to write to friends she’s met along the way. She has pen pals as far away as the British Isles, and writes regularly to a Jewish boy she met at space camp. He’s interested in the Young Men and Young Women programs, and often asks questions about the Church in his letters. Kimber also sent a Book of Mormon to another friend in Wyoming.
Life is good for Kimber. She is surrounded by a family she loves and by the great Alaskan outdoors. Although college, a mission, and temple marriage—and her dream of becoming an astronaut—may eventually pull her away, at the Yentna River Station, Kimber has already learned the most important thing of all: “I love Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father. They take care of me.”

Another time—it was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, about 1943—I went to priesthood meeting. There was a large framed board. It had the pictures of all the young men serving in the military. Priests who had been at the sacrament table a few months earlier were now in the war. Each week it would be updated. Those who were killed in action had a gold star by their picture; those who had been wounded, a red star; and those missing in action, a white star. Every week, as a 12-year-old deacon, I checked to see who had been killed or wounded.

In quorum meeting that morning, the member of the bishopric said, “This Thursday is Thanksgiving. We ought to all have family prayer in our homes.” Then he said, “Let’s put on the blackboard the things we are grateful for.” We did, and he said, “Include these things in your Thanksgiving prayer.” I got sick to my stomach, as we never had a prayer or blessing.

That night at 6:30 we went to sacrament meeting. At the end of the meeting, the bishop stood up and was very tender. He told about the young men from our ward who had been killed and wounded. He talked about our liberty, our freedom, our flag, and this great country, and our blessings. Then he said, “I’d hope every single family would kneel and have family prayer on Thanksgiving Day and thank God for His blessings.”

My heart ached. I thought, “How can we have family prayer?” I wanted to be obedient. I hardly slept all Sunday night. I wanted to have a prayer for Thanksgiving. I even thought I would say it if someone asked me, but I was too shy to volunteer. I worried all day Monday, and all day Tuesday, and Wednesday at school.

Dad did not come home on Wednesday until early in the morning. Thursday we all got up. There were five boys and two sisters. We skipped breakfast so we would have a real appetite for Thanksgiving dinner. To work up an appetite, we went to a nearby field and dug a hole six feet deep and six feet wide. We made a trench to it as a hideout. I remember with every shovelful of dirt, I thought, “Please, Heavenly Father, let us have a prayer.”

Finally at 2:30, my mother called us to come and eat. We cleaned up and sat at the table. Somehow Mom had managed to have a turkey with all the trimmings. She put all the food on the table, including the turkey. I thought my heart would burst. Time was running out. I looked at my father, then my mother. I thought, “Please, now, someone, anyone, please can’t we have a prayer.” I was almost panicky; then all of a sudden everyone started to eat. I had worked hard all morning and afternoon to work up an appetite, but I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to eat. I wanted to pray more than anything else in this world, and it was too late.

When Young Women in the Cedar Mill Stake (Portland, Oregon) hear a bell, it reminds them that they’re not alone—that Heavenly Father is always there, eager to help. Mia Maid Erin Bowman explained it like this:
“I like to think of life on earth as a big soccer tournament. We’re all players, and every time we score a goal or achieve something, we feel really good inside and know Heavenly Father and Jesus are rooting for us. Even when we miss a goal and fail to score, they are still cheering for us and telling us to try again. When we win the game and go on to another team, or another aspect of life, we always know that there are those who love us and are there supporting us.”

When Kim was seven, she set off with her family on a month-long camping trip across the United States. Walking along the Freedom Trail in Boston, where she saw places she had studied about in school, such as Paul Revere’s home and the Old North Church, was the highlight of the trip for her. However, Kimberly was happy to come back home to Tempe and its surroundings, which offer many interesting things to see and do. Two places Kim likes to visit often are the Phoenix Zoo and the Phoenix Museum of Science and Technology, which is a hands-on science museum. The visitors’ center at the Mesa Temple grounds, with its talking figure of Moroni, is another favorite place.

In 1968 a marathon runner by the name of John Stephen Akhwari represented Tanzania in an international competition. “A little over an hour after [the winner] had crossed the finish line, John Stephen Akhwari … approached the stadium, the last man to complete the journey. [Though suffering from fatigue, leg cramps, dehydration, and disorientation,] a voice called from within to go on, and so he went on. Afterwards, it was written, ‘Today we have seen a young African runner who symbolizes the finest in human spirit, a performance that gives meaning to the word courage.’ For some, the only reward is a personal one. [There are no medals, only] the knowledge that they finished what they set out to do.” When asked why he would complete a race he could never win, Akhwari replied, “My country did not send me 5,000 miles to start the race; my country sent me to finish the race.” (The Last African Runner, Olympiad Series, written, directed, and produced by Bud Greenspan, Cappy Productions [videocassette, 1976].)

One day I went to a birthday party. The first part was watching a PG-13 movie, so I didn’t go to that part. I went in the middle of the party, and we ate pizza and cupcakes. After that we started watching another movie. It looked bad. I told my friend’s mom that I couldn’t watch it, so she turned it off and we played appropriate video games instead. I feel that I made the right choice. I will follow the prophet’s counsel to never watch bad movies in my life.

At one time, people from local wards provided such ministering visits. Then the stake president felt prompted to encourage the branch presidency to ask the Lord which residents could serve and in what callings.
“When the branch president extended the calling to me to be the Relief Society president,” Sharon says, “I thought, I have received too many blessings to say no.” She, in turn, received inspiration about who her counselors should be. “Marlene came to mind first,” she says. “We had worked together on a stake level, preparing names for temple work. I knew her husband had passed away not long ago, and even though she was struggling with that, I knew she was faithful.”
Then, after a sacrament meeting, Sharon looked around the room, seeking inspiration. “I saw Dorothy. She smiled at me, and I knew she was the other counselor. The Lord guided me to both of them, and He didn’t make a mistake on either one.”
Sharon also says that she can see the advantage of having people from the facility serve others in the facility. “We’re closer to the situation,” she says. “We understand that we’re sometimes inept, sometimes we forget so much, and sometimes we just don’t feel well. And we know how to laugh about the problems we face together.”
“The people who live here are already kind of like a big family,” Marlene says. “We eat our meals together, so we see each other three times a day. Then sometimes we’re together at activities too. So I think the stake president was inspired when he felt there were people here who could serve each other.”
“We know what’s happening from day to day. We know if someone needs help or if someone gets sick,” Dorothy says.
In addition to ministering and helping others to minister, the members of the presidency organize Relief Society teaching. They suggest residents who might be called to teach, and they adjust assignments and schedules according to teachers’ individual needs.
“But our main job is to remind other residents that the Lord loves them,” Marlene says. “And as we do that, we feel His love too.”
“We all have struggles,” Sharon says. “I’ve got problems now I didn’t have five months ago. But when I get feeling sorry for myself, I think, ‘Hey, this is nothing compared to what the Savior went through.’ We are here to progress and grow. And even in old age, if you let your experiences teach you, you can keep learning forever.”
Because they have each lost loved ones, the presidency members have also learned a lot about compassion. They know how to succor those who stand in need of comfort. For example, in one year Marlene lost four family members and a best friend.
“Because we’ve been through tough things,” she says, “we can help others get through tough things too. If you’re struggling with something, lose yourself in service to others. That’s what this calling has helped me to do.”
The members of the presidency bring a wealth of experience and understanding to their callings. They have lived and worked in many places—California, Ohio, Wyoming, and Utah. They have served in the temple, in ward and stake callings, in Primary, Young Women, and humanitarian service. But Dorothy had never held a calling in Relief Society, until now.
“What is the motto of the Relief Society?” she says. “‘Charity Never Faileth.’ That’s true when you’re young, but it’s equally true when you’re older. As a presidency, we’re learning that every day.”
“I think we work really well together,” Sharon says, with a wink, “for a presidency that averages 90 years old.”

A friend related this experience her husband had while attending medical school. “Getting into medical school is pretty competitive, and the desire to do well and be successful puts a great deal of pressure on the new incoming freshmen. My husband had worked hard on his studies and went to attend his first examination. The honor system was expected behavior at the medical school. The professor passed out the examination and left the room. Within a short time, students started to pull little cheat papers out from under their papers or from their pockets. My husband recalled his heart beginning to pound as he realized it is pretty hard to compete against cheaters. About that time a tall, lanky student stood up in the back of the room and stated, ‘I left my hometown and put my wife and three little babies in an upstairs apartment and worked very hard to get into medical school. And I’ll turn in the first one of you who cheats, and you better believe it!’ They believed it. There were many sheepish expressions, and those cheat papers started to disappear as fast as they had appeared. He set a standard for the class which eventually graduated the largest group in the school’s history.”
The young, lanky medical student who challenged the cheaters was J Ballard Washburn, who became a respected physician and in later years received special recognition from the Utah Medical Association for his outstanding service as a medical doctor. He also served as a General Authority and is now the president of the Las Vegas Nevada Temple.

Due partly to the efforts of David Alan Carter, Dodge City, Kansas, is in the news again. But this time, it’s not because of cowboys and gunslingers. David, a member of the Dodge City Branch, Kansas Central District, Independence Missouri Mission, was the moderator of a panel of four that took third place nationally in a tape-recorded discussion. The topic was pornography, and although they touched on many areas of the problem, most of their 20-minute discussion concerned constitutional questions. The four panel members (of whom only David was a member of the Church) were all students at Dodge City Community College, one of just two community colleges in the nationwide competition. David serves as elders quorum secretary and Course 8 Sunday School teacher in the Dodge City Branch, attends school, and works part-time at several jobs (including a family-owned and operated drive-in movie theater) to earn money for his mission.

I lived this exact experience while deciding whether to accept a job offer here at BYU–Hawaii.

BYU–Hawaii Job Offer
In 2006, I was invited to be the university budget director. Most people think that is a job only an accountant can do. But I am not an accountant! I had a few accounting classes and worked in the BYU Budget Office in Provo for six years, but I am not a trained accountant.

While I loved my experience at BYU in Provo, I had left BYU and the Church Educational System two years earlier to work in private industry as an international sales and marketing manager. Part of the reason I left BYU is because I was regularly being approached with job offers to be the “controller of this” or the “chief financial officer of that” – jobs that typically require accounting expertise. I realized the longer I stayed, the more I would be limited to accounting related roles.

When I received the invitation to work at BYU–Hawaii and return to the Church Educational System I was eager because I love the mission so much, but also concerned what this might do to my career path. Surely anyone looking at my resume would presume that my efforts in sales and marketing had been unsuccessful and I was back where I belonged – in “accounting.”

Laurie and I prayed fervently, fasted often, and went to the temple multiple times trying to receive guidance. None came. The heavens seemed completely sealed.

I agonized over this decision. I was invited to visit the campus with my wife so that we could “feel the spirit of the place” and help us make our decision. This only made things more confusing.

I did feel the spirit of BYU–Hawaii and loved the thought of being here, but I also realized how very far away it was from everyone and everything I was familiar with.

Upon returning home, I had an unusual experience at work and another one at a ward function that I interpreted as God directing me not to accept the job. Absent any other direction from heaven, I decided to decline the offer.

While I was typing the email to announce my decision, a clear message came into my mind: “Don’t worry about your career. Do what is best for your family.” I stopped typing. After some additional thought and discussion with Laurie about what would be best for our family, I deleted what I had typed and replaced it with a message accepting the position.

Our experience at BYU–Hawaii has been life changing and I am so grateful God directed us here. My career has been fulfilling and I have had opportunities and experiences both at work and outside of work that I could not possibly have anticipated. I am so very grateful that God allowed me to exercise my agency, but also provided guidance when I was about to make an unfortunate choice.

There is one important lesson beyond the one Elder Scott described so accurately. Notice the divine directive that came into my mind was not, “Accept the job at BYU–Hawaii.” It was “Don’t worry about your career. Do what is best for your family.” God did not tell me how to respond to the job offer. He required me to exercise my agency to decide what was best for our family. But He also provided additional perspective and the comfort I needed to make the right choice for our family.

On October 5, 2017, a year and two months into my mission was the day I received news from my mission president that my mom had passed on the day before. The pain I felt was beyond explanation, I was tempted to tell my mission president that I wanted to go home. My mission president and wife, being the loving parents they are, asked that I stay with them a few days at the mission home with hopes that I would be comforted.
In the course of my stay, my mission president gave me a priesthood blessing and I was prompted to revisit some of the scriptures my mission president had expounded during one of our zone conferences on the plan of salvation and so I did. I read Alma 42:6 that reminded me that death is inevitable and that “it was appointed unto man to die.” I also read Alma 40:11–12 where it teaches that a righteous soul who crosses the veil will be in a state of rest and peace.
As I read, I felt my pain waning gradually and I continued to read it repeatedly. I was reminded that my mom was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who had gone through the ordinances of baptism and receiving the Holy Ghost by my hand two years before her passing. That reminder kept me going and I left the mission home the next day to return to proselyting.
As I kept teaching the plan of salvation to my investigators from the Book of Mormon, my joy knew no bounds. Thanks to the Book of Mormon, I have moved on and am almost done with my mission. I am more than grateful for the principles taught in the Book of Mormon indeed, it contains the fullness of the gospel, for I have received a witness of its truthfulness.

We are also blessed by temple covenants and ordinances, where “the power of godliness is manifest.” I visited a woman who had lost a teenage daughter in a terrible accident, then later her husband to cancer. I asked how she could endure such loss and suffering. She replied that strength came from spiritual reassurances of an eternal family, received during regular temple worship. As promised, the ordinances of the Lord’s house had armed her with God’s power.