Gospel Story Finder

In the face of frightening danger, a young pioneer boy takes his old grandmother and injured dog for an unforgettable river ride on his homemade log raft.

For April Page, 17, from the Highland Utah East Stake, the temple has become a symbol of her goals. “Every time I talk with my parents about having the goal to go to the temple, they just become so emotional. They are so happy that is a definite goal of mine.”
April accompanied Michelle Bone. April said, “Michelle’s spirit completely overwhelmed me. The smile never left her face through the entire tour. Michelle taught me about being happy and having faith in what the gospel has taught me. I felt honored to be by her side in the Lord’s holy temple.”

The Jeffrey family, from Illinois, USA, recognizes the freedom that comes from managing their finances with a budget. When the Jeffrey children were very young, the family realized that three of them would be serving missions at the same time. Recognizing the financial strain this would place on the family, their mother, Olga, implemented a strict budget. Along with paying 10 percent of the family’s income to tithing, Sister Jeffrey set aside an additional 10 percent to save for her future missionaries. “I realized that finances could become a stumbling block and that we needed to be prepared to provide the means for our children to serve the Lord,” Sister Jeffrey says.
As the Jeffrey children began leaving on missions, their parents were financially prepared, and the Lord blessed them.

When temple visits for my branch were announced, I attended. Even though I could not yet enter the temple, I often walked the temple grounds. I prayed to Heavenly Father expressing my deepest desires to one day enter the temple. Some of these visits were only 10 minutes, but they had a profound impact on my spirit.
On one particularly cold and rainy evening, I arrived at the temple late. Although the grounds were closed, temple security allowed me a few moments on the grounds. I had with me a copy of the temple’s dedicatory prayer. I was impressed to read it.
I was filled with emotions as I read the following words: “Wilt Thou whisper peace to Thy people by the power of Thy Spirit when they come here with burdened hearts to seek direction in their perplexities. Wilt Thou comfort and sustain them when they come in times of sorrow. Wilt Thou give them courage, direction, and faith, when they gather, as to a refuge, from the turmoil of the world. Wilt Thou reassure them of Thy reality and divinity, and of the reality and divinity of Thy resurrected Son.”1
I knew then that my visits to the temple grounds meant something to the Lord, even though I was not inside the temple.

My younger sister faced the same situation in her life. She continued her friendship with him and showed him the standards of the Church. She invited him to meetings and prayed for the guidance of the Holy Ghost.
Elder Ramnie D. Benes, 23Philippines Cabanatuan Mission

Monday, November 1
Dear Vera,
Yes, Nigeria is far away from where you live, but we are so glad we’re here. The people are so warm and loving, and Heavenly Father has blessed us so much.
On Sunday, four children were confirmed. We met in a tiny chapel with a concrete floor, and the Spirit was so strong. It was beautiful!
Love,Elder and Sister Wall
P.S. We love the Primary children so much that we want to give them a special Christmas present. Do you have any ideas?
Monday, November 22
Dear Elder and Sister Wall, (See? I remembered!)
I’ve got a great Christmas present idea! And I’ve even talked to Mom and the Primary president about it. But I’m not going to tell you what it is because I know how much you like surprises. (Remember the surprise birthday party Mom gave you, Grandma? You were so funny!)
I will give you a hint. It starts with the letter P, and we’ll be sending it in a couple of weeks.
Love,Vera
P.S. Can you guess what it is?
Friday, December 3
Dear Vera,
What could it be? Grandpa and I have been thinking about what you might be sending for the Primary children. We can hardly wait to find out!
There are lots of things that start with P in Africa—like pigs, parrots, and potholes! But I don’t think that’s the surprise you’re talking about.
Love,Sister Wall
Monday, December 13
Dear Vera,
Dalu and Merry Christmas! Dalu means “thank you” in Igbo (a language spoken in Nigeria). P stands for “pictures,” doesn’t it?
All the children here in our Primary liked the Christmas pictures you and your friends drew for them at the Primary activity.
We wish you could have seen them! All the children were smiling and laughing and saying how wonderful it was to hear from faraway Primary friends who love Jesus just like they do.
Thanks so much for your Christmas present. It was perfect! (That starts with P too!)
Love,Elder and Sister Wall
P.S. The Nigerian Primary children like to send surprises too!
Friday, December 31
Dear Elder and Sister Wall,
Please tell the Primary children in Nigeria dalu for their pictures! All the kids in my Primary liked them! We especially enjoyed the pictures with the palm trees, fans, and baskets.
Love,Vera
P.S. Even though I still miss you, ever since we sent you the special present for your Primary children, Nigeria doesn’t seem far away at all!

The Prophet Joseph Smith was a tall, strong man. He grew up on a farm and spent many hours clearing the land and planting crops with his father and brothers.
The Prophet loved spending time with young people. One of his favorite activities was wrestling. In those days, wrestling consisted mostly of trying to throw your opponent off balance.
One day Joseph noticed a crowd of enthusiastic young men and boys. When he got closer, he saw that they were wrestling. He decided to join them.
There was one especially large fellow who seemed to be the champion. He was proud of the fact that no one had thrown him, and he was eager to wrestle the Prophet.
The match had scarcely begun when the champion found himself being carried by his collar and the seat of his pants to a nearby ditch, where Joseph dropped him.
As the crowd yelled and cheered, Joseph helped the young man to his feet, patted him on his back, and said, “You must not mind this. When I am with the boys, I make all the fun I can for them.”
Although he was the first President of the Church and a very busy man, Joseph Smith knew that taking time to be friendly with others was important.

For the Days of ’47, my family and I went to Cascade Springs, a beautiful nature walk in Utah. We wanted to appreciate the beauty of the world and to be able to reflect on our heritage.
Libbie H.

The last barrel was rushing toward me.
“Your horse isn’t on the right lead, Susan,” shouted Grandma from the fence.
I know, Grandma. You don’t need to tell me, I thought.
Leaning low over Ginger’s withers, I shifted a little to the left and tapped my horse emphatically with my right boot. Underneath me, I could feel Ginger’s long stride switch left—but not in time. Ginger went so wide around the barrel she nearly knocked me against the corral fence.
As I urged her toward the imaginary finish line, I could see Grandma shaking her head.
“That’s no way to win a rodeo prize. Those other barrel racers will whip you good.”
“Grandma, you know Ginger isn’t usually this bad!”
“That’s just the point! You’ve been working her too hard. She’ll go sour on you before she ever makes it to her first contest.”
I stuck out my lower jaw. “I can train my own horse, Grandma.”
She didn’t seem to hear me and went right on. “The way I see it …”
The trouble with Grandma living across the road is that she usually isn’t across the road. She’s at our house giving advice to everyone. Last week it was my hair for the school dance. The week before it was my “mediocre” A minus in journalism class.
“There isn’t any excuse for it,” she said. “You can write 10 times better than those other youngsters.” But Grandma’s favorite hangout was on the corral fence watching me train Ginger.
Grandma reached to scratch behind Ginger’s ears. “That sassy little blonde down in Glenville who won rodeo queen last year, she can hardly rein left or right. You better not let her beat you at the barrels.”
I leaned down and yanked the wire latch off the corral gate.
“Just push open the gate for me, Grandma,” I asked.
“You better let that horse cool down before putting her away.”
“I know, Grandma,” I sighed impatiently.
She opened the gate for me. “If you’re going to win,” she said, “you better shorten your stirrups a notch and hang more with your horse.”
I exploded. “Grandma, I’m riding, not you.”
Grandma looked up at me in surprise. Ginger danced underneath me.
I was heating up. “What do you know about horses, anyway! Have you even been on one in the last 50 years?”
I was staring right at her. I could see the hurt come into her gray eyes. But I didn’t stop. “Just leave me alone. Don’t come watch me anymore.”
I jerked Ginger toward the hay field and galloped away. My face was hot with anger. I knew Grandma was standing stiff and hurt behind me. I fumed, gritting my teeth. But as the breeze cooled my face, I knew I would apologize. I’d never seen Grandma look so hurt. I fingered Ginger’s black mane. Tomorrow would be a good day. I’d apologize tomorrow.
“Dead? Dead!” My voice started to squeak, and I felt the tears coming. I didn’t want Mother to see. “But Grandma is too young to die.”
“I’m sorry,” said Mother, putting her hands on my shoulders. “The doctor said her heart just gave out in the night.”
“But, but—not today! Grandma can’t die today! I was going to make things right.”
At the funeral I sat hunched on the bench beside my two brothers. I kept looking down, but the only thing I could see was Grandma’s hurt gray eyes. In my head pounded the words, “What do you know about horses? Don’t come watch me anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” I murmured. But I knew it was too late.

In the work of the Lord we don’t seek positions, nor should we refuse the opportunity to serve when called. The story is told of one good brother, obviously quite new in the Church. He was most eager to serve in the front ranks. Between conference sessions, he had the good fortune of shaking hands with President Hugh B. Brown and immediately asked, “President Brown, how does someone get to be a bishop in the Church?”
“Well,” answered President Brown, “the process is very simple. You just have to be invited by the Lord.” What a tremendous goal for every Latter-day Saint—to qualify in every way to be worthy of an invitation from the Lord, no matter what that calling may be.

The Bravest Dog Ever It was 30° below 0° F (-34° C) in Alaska, and a blizzard was raging. But if the sled dogs couldn’t get needed medicine to Nome, the people there would die. This beginning-to-read story is true.Natalie Standiford6–8 years

One of my favorite stories is the story of Lambert the Sheepish Lion. It became famous in a cartoon some years ago.
Lambert was a lion cub that had lived with a flock of sheep from the time he was born. Because of that, he thought he was a sheep. One spring night Lambert and the flock were sleeping peacefully. Suddenly Lambert heard the scary howl of a wolf in the distance. Because Lambert thought he was a sheep, he began to tremble.
The howl grew louder, and the wolf came closer and began dragging one of the sheep away. Suddenly Lambert felt a strong feeling inside that he had never felt before. Like lightning, he ran toward the wolf to save the sheep!
Just then Lambert realized something. “I am not a sheep. I am not the son of a sheep. I am the son of a lion!” Lambert thought. When he chased off the wolf and protected the sheep, he knew his true nature.

Let me teach you from another experience of my life:
In January of 1982, I spoke in a devotional on the BYU campus in Provo, Utah. I invited the students to imagine that the Church was on one side of the podium, right here, and the world was just a foot or two away on the other side. This represented the “very short distance between where the world was and where the Church standards were” when I was in college. Then, standing before the students 30 years later, I held up my hands in the same manner and explained, “The world has gone far afield; [it has traveled; it is nowhere to be seen;] it has proceeded way, way out, all the way out of this [building and around the world]. … What we and our children and our grandchildren have to remember is that the Church will remain constant, [it’s still right here; yet] the world will keep moving—that gap is [becoming] wider and wider. … Therefore, be very careful. If you judge your actions and the standards of the Church on the basis of where the world is and where it’s going, you will find that you are not where you should be.”4

Near here stands a tall building twenty-six stories high. In it are two banks of elevators, one an express, one that moves a little more normally.
Not long ago I got on the express elevator. Some of the workers there say it could qualify as a ride at Disneyland. A little boy and his father got on with me. Suddenly the elevator took off, and the little boy, not expecting the thrill, lost his breath and looked up at his dad with great faith and trust and said, “Daddy, does Heavenly Father know we’re coming?”
There is a great lesson in that experience.

The second month that we went home teaching, Brother Johnson had just bought a new horse. And so we walked out to the corral and took a look.
“Mort, how much you pay for that mare?”
“About a thousand dollars. Why?”
“She’s a fine horse. How come you spent so much money for her?”
“She’s got a good line.” Then he stopped and looked at the old man. “Why are you asking me a question like that? You been around horses most of your life.”
“I never had a horse worth a thousand bucks. What will you do with her, sell her to the glue factory?”
“You know I’m not going to do that.”
“Yep, I know that.” He looked at the mare for a while and then turned to Brother Johnson and said, “Mort, how long did your dad serve as a bishop?”
“About ten years, I guess. Why?”
“You come from a good line, Mort. As far as the Lord is concerned, you’re registered stock. But you’re no good to the Lord the way you are now. It’d be less of a waste to sell that horse to the rendering plant as for you to keep away from church any longer. The Lord wants you back in harness, Mort.”
Brother Johnson took the toothpick out of his mouth and dropped it on the ground. “You may be right,” he said simply.

This year, Elder Monte Schofield and his wife Sister Kathy Schofield will be completing their service as a couple missionary assigned to the Manila Philippines Temple. This is the couple’s third call to serve in the country, and the fourth for Elder Schofield.
The Schofields were married in the Idaho Falls Temple in 1974 and raised a family of two boys and three girls. After retiring from working in the retail clothing business, Brother Schofield responded positively to the invitation to serve the Lord again full-time.
“I have always told my wife I wanted to come back to the Philippines and serve as a senior couple,” Elder Schofield reveals, “I love this country, and most of all the kind hearted people.” Together, the Schofields served in the Cebu City Philippines Temple (2015–2017), Philippines Olongapo Mission (2019), and lastly in the Manila Philippines Temple (2024–2025).

“When Evan Stephens was conductor of the Tabernacle Choir he was thrilled on one occasion by a sermon delivered by the late President Joseph F. Smith” on the subject of the faith of Latter-day Saint youth.
“At the close of the service Professor Stephens strolled alone up City Creek Canyon pondering the inspired words of the President. Suddenly the [inspiration of heaven] came upon him and seated upon a rock which was standing firm under the pressure of the rushing water … , he wrote with a pencil”1 these words:
Shall the youth of Zion falter
In defending truth and right?
While the enemy assaileth,
Shall we shrink or shun the fight? No!
True to the faith that our parents have cherished,
True to the truth for which martyrs have perished,
To God’s command, Soul, heart, and hand,
Faithful and true we will ever stand.2

Ryan and his family were so happy to arrive at their new home. They had been traveling for three days and were tired of being in the car. The moving van was soon unloaded, and the family worked hard together to get all of their things unpacked.
Ryan and his brother, Anthony, would be sharing a room. They carefully put away all of their clothes and toys. Ryan hung his favorite picture of Jesus over his dresser, where he could see it. The house was starting to feel like home.
A few days later, Ryan heard a strange sound coming from the kitchen. The old refrigerator they had brought with them was making a strange grinding noise. It smelled funny too.
“What’s the matter with our fridge, Mom?” Anthony asked.
“I think the motor is burning out,” Mom said.
By the time Dad got home from work that evening, the food in the freezer was starting to thaw.
Ryan could tell from the look on Dad’s face that he was worried.
“Dad, let’s just buy a new fridge,” Ryan suggested.
“That’s a great idea, but refrigerators are expensive,” Dad said. “We don’t have the money right now to buy a new one.”
“We could ask Heavenly Father to buy us a new one,” Ryan said.
Dad smiled and hugged Ryan.
“Ryan, why don’t we say a prayer and ask Heavenly Father for His help?” Mom said.
The family bowed their heads, and Ryan thanked Heavenly Father for their new home. He told Heavenly Father that their refrigerator was broken and asked Him for help to fix the problem.
In the morning, the refrigerator was not making strange noises or smelling funny anymore.
“Maybe Heavenly Father fixed our fridge,” Anthony said.
“Heavenly Father answers our prayers in different ways,” Mom said. “Maybe this is His answer.”
But by Friday the refrigerator sounded like it was about to stop working completely. Mom and Dad were worried, but Ryan said, “Heavenly Father always answers prayers.”
On Saturday the family was busy getting ready for Sunday. Mom folded clothes as the boys cleaned their room. Suddenly Dad announced that he was going to take the children for a walk. The children put on their shoes and left with Dad.
Fifteen minutes later, the children burst through the front door. “Mom!” Ryan shouted, “Dad bought a new fridge.”
Dad walked through the door with a big smile on his face. He explained to Mom that the neighbors up the street were having a yard sale and they were selling a nearly brand-new refrigerator—at a price Dad could afford. Dad had bought the refrigerator.
The neighbor helped Dad move the old refrigerator out and the new one in.
“Ryan, Heavenly Father answered our prayers,” Dad said. “He helped our old fridge run for a few more days. Then He helped us find a new refrigerator nearby. And He helped me earn just enough money to pay for it.”
“I know, Dad,” Ryan said. “Heavenly Father always answers our prayers.”
Ryan asked Dad if he could say another prayer. This time he wanted to thank Heavenly Father for the new refrigerator.

My mind goes back in memory to a general priesthood meeting held in 1956. At that time I was serving in the stake presidency of the Temple View Stake here in Salt Lake City. Percy K. Fetzer, John R. Burt, and I, the stake presidency, had come to the Tabernacle early, that hopefully we might find a place to sit. We were among the first to enter the Tabernacle and had almost two hours to wait before the meeting would begin.
President Fetzer related to President Burt and me an experience from his missionary days in Germany. He described how one rainy night he and his companion were to present a gospel message to a group assembled in a schoolhouse. A protester had broadcast falsehoods concerning the Church, and a number of people threatened violence against the two missionaries. At a critical moment, a woman who was a widow stepped between the elders and the angry group and said, “These young men are my guests and are coming to my home now. Please make way for us to leave.”
The crowd parted, and the missionaries walked through the rainy night with their benefactress, arriving at length at her modest home. She placed their wet coats over the kitchen chairs and invited the missionaries to sit at the table while she prepared food for them. After eating, the elders presented a message to the kind lady who had befriended them. A young son of the woman was invited to come to the table, but he refused, preferring his position of solitude and warmth directly behind the kitchen stove.
President Fetzer concluded the account with the comment, “While I don’t know if that woman ever joined the Church, I’ll forever be grateful to her for her kindness that rain-drenched night thirty-three years ago.”
The brethren sitting in front of us here in the Tabernacle had been speaking to one another also. After a while, we began listening to their conversation. One asked the friend sitting next to him, “Tell me how you came to be a member of the Church.”
The brother responded, “One rainy night in Germany, my mother brought to our house two drenched missionaries whom she had rescued from a mob. Mother fed the elders, and they presented to her a message concerning the work of the Lord. They invited me to join the discussion, but I was shy and fearful, so I remained secure in my seat behind the stove. Later, when I once more heard about the Church, I remembered the courage and faith, as well as the message, of those two humble missionaries, and this led to my conversion. I suppose I’ll never meet those two missionaries here in mortality, but I’ll be forever grateful to them. I know not where they were from. I think one was named Fetzer.”
At this point, President Burt and I looked at President Fetzer and noticed the great tears which coursed down his cheeks. Without saying a word to us, President Fetzer tapped on the shoulder of the man in front of us who had just related his conversion experience. To him he then said, “I’m Bruder Fetzer. I was one of the two missionaries whom you befriended that night. I’m grateful to meet the boy who sat behind the stove—the lad who listened and who learned.”
I do not remember the messages delivered during the priesthood meeting that night, but I shall never forget the faith-filled conversation which preceded the commencement of the meeting.

What possible effect can a 14-year-old have on home teaching? I’m just a kid. Who am I to be telling an elder to do his home teaching? Not just an elder, but an elder that I have never met or even seen at church. The only thing I knew about him was his name and that he was an ex-athlete.
I had been called to be a junior home teaching companion three months earlier and still had not visited anyone. It didn’t help that my two best friends were already active home teachers. One was assigned with his father and the other to a member of the elders quorum presidency. My own father was in the bishopric and at that time was not assigned as a home teacher. What could a 14-year-old companion do?
My feelings of guilt had to be Brother Jensen’s fault, I decided. He had been my deacons quorum adviser who taught us how important home teaching was. He also explained that as a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, it was our duty to be faithful home teachers. He had warned us that we might have to remind and encourage a senior companion to do home teaching.
Well, my options were really very simple. I could continue to wait for my senior companion to call and do my best not to feel guilty, or I could go to his house, introduce myself, and arrange to go home teaching.
On the one hand, he was the senior companion. He was supposed to take charge, not me. Wouldn’t I be assuming too much authority by contacting him? He might even get offended. Better to wait, I thought. Then Brother Jensen’s words would come back to me again.
“If your senior companion doesn’t contact you,” he said, “then you must contact him and let that brother know you are ready to go home teaching.” He explained that if the senior companion still didn’t go home teaching, the responsibility would rest on that senior companion. Until we made the effort to go, we had to share in that failure.
I finally committed to go to my companion and introduce myself.
As I went to church that Sunday, I began to feel more and more nervous. What would my companion think? Would he laugh at me? Maybe he would get mad and run me off. I didn’t feel I could do it, but I had promised to follow through and make the attempt. If he responded negatively, then I would have at least done my part.
I normally walked home from church, passing my companion’s house on the way. As I neared his house, I forced myself up the driveway and said a prayer, very simple, very direct. “Lord, please help me.” My fears left me for the moment, and I quickly climbed the steps to the front door and knocked. I knew someone would answer because I could hear what sounded like a party going on inside. The fear was coming back, but it was too late to run. I had already knocked.
The door opened, and a woman asked me what I wanted. She may have been polite, rude, sensitive, or even abrupt. I don’t know because I was trying hard to remember what it was I was there for.
“Is Brother Johnson here?” I finally asked, timidly.
“Just a minute, please.” I thought I could hear laughter but wasn’t sure. I didn’t have time to breathe before a very tall man stepped to the door. He seemed none too friendly.
“Yeah?” he asked.
My eyes must have been big enough to cover my face. I’m sure he noticed I was scared because he started to smile a little. I calmed down just enough to utter my little prayer in my mind one last, desperate time.
“My name is John,” I began in a voice that didn’t sound scared to me, “and I’m your home teaching companion. I was wondering when we could go home teaching?”
I don’t know if he was amused or surprised, but he didn’t throw me off the porch. Good start, I thought.
He just smiled and said, “Give me your phone number, and I’ll call you back.”
I went home feeling pretty good. I felt that I had made a good effort, and if he didn’t call back, I could say I had tried. When I arrived home, I told my parents what had happened. I don’t think they expected me to get a call.
Later that night, I received a call from Brother Johnson, my companion.
“Can you go home teaching Tuesday at seven?” he asked.
“Uh, sure,” I stammered.
“I’ll pick you up then. Bye.” He hung up.
Tuesday night we went home teaching. I found out later he had called the elders quorum president after I had left his house that Sunday to get the names and phone numbers of the families we were assigned. He then called the families and made appointments.
That became our routine. On the third Sunday I would stop by his house, and then he would set up appointments. We rarely, if ever, missed anyone in the two years we were companions. We also became pretty good friends. Brother Johnson even came to church a couple of times. He said he just wanted to see the quorum president faint.
I learned two very important lessons. First, an Aaronic Priesthood holder can have a positive influence on home teaching. Second, a less-active brother can be the most active home teacher.
As a home teacher, Brother Johnson taught me a lot.