Gospel Story Finder

When I was a schoolgirl in Russia, I read a scary story about two boys who encountered a bear in a forest. Years later, after I had become a teacher, some friends asked me to join them on a trip to collect mushrooms. The forest still scared me, but I agreed to go with them.
Entering the forest, I grabbed a wooden stick so I could defend myself in case I ran into a bear. My friends soon found the brown mushrooms they were looking for. I, on the other hand, was looking for mushrooms with bright red tops, so I started off in a different direction. Before I knew it, I was alone.
While I was searching, I slipped and fell. My mushroom basket flew into the air, but I held tight to my stick. When I tried to get up, I noticed that the ground was muddy and sticky. To my horror, I realized that I had wandered into a swamp! My rubber boots quickly filled with water, and I began to sink. I tried to move my legs, but instead of freeing myself, I was pulled deeper. When the mud reached my waist, deep fear engulfed me.
I cried out to my friends, but the only answer I heard came from buzzing dragonflies and croaking frogs. As I began to weep, I suddenly remembered my mother. Whenever she was in a bad situation, she prayed. She often invited me to pray, but I always refused, answering, “There is no God.”
But in my watery soon-to-be grave, there was nothing else I could do but pray and call upon God for help. “If You live, please help me!” I cried.
Almost immediately I heard a kind voice tell me, “Believe and be not afraid. Grab the strong tree root.”
As I looked around, I saw a big tree root behind me. Using my stick, I was able to latch onto it. Something then gave me the power to pull myself out of the swamp.
Covered with mud, I fell to the ground and thanked God for answering my prayer. I now believed that He lived. I had felt His presence and heard His voice, and He had given me power to pull myself free.
A short time later, when the full-time missionaries taught me that the Prophet Joseph Smith had received an answer to his prayer in the Sacred Grove, I believed them. After all, God had answered my prayer in a forest. I latched onto the strong roots of the gospel, was baptized soon thereafter, and serve today in the Gyumri Branch in Armenia.
I know Heavenly Father loves all of His children, and I’m grateful to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I’m also grateful for the many other blessings I have received from Heavenly Father, especially for His answer to an atheist’s prayer in the forest many years ago.

I was the first member of my family to join the Church. As an eight-year-old, I waited to feel somehow different because of my baptism. To be honest, the only thing I felt when I was brought out of the water was … well, dripping wet. I thought something more profound would happen when I was confirmed. However, after receiving the Holy Ghost, again I felt happy but certainly no different than I had just a few minutes before.
It wasn’t until the following day at fast and testimony meeting that I experienced what I now recognize as the influence of the Holy Ghost. A brother stood to bear his testimony and tell about the blessings of his membership in the Church. I felt a flood of warmth sweep over me. Even as an eight-year-old, I recognized that this was something different. I felt a peace descend on me, and I had the distinct feeling that Heavenly Father was pleased with me. …

My mom and I decided to attend counseling, but she soon stopped coming. Once again, I was left alone, wondering if she even cared about me. But once again, Christ did not leave me alone.
As I continued to attend, He helped me change my expectations for my mom. I knew that I couldn’t change her, but I could forgive her while establishing boundaries to protect myself from further harm.

The year we were baptized a friend bought a building lot for his family and ours by loaning us part of the money. We began to dream of having our own house. Eventually the Spirit prompted us, and we started calculating the cost of labor and materials. We felt that we would somehow manage to build a house where we could raise our children in the gospel, do missionary work, and receive visits from members.
After some time I got better acquainted with Brother Joel, a recently baptized member of our ward. His faith was amazing. Once when we were doing a service project, Brother Joel said to me, “José Luis, we can build your house.” I was on the verge of tears, but I contained myself until I told my wife. It was the answer to our prayers.
A few days later the friend who had purchased the land for his family and ours told me I could have the entire plot and pay for it later. Still I did not have the kind of job that would allow me to buy building materials, but I knew the Lord would provide a way. Several weeks later I was invited to work for a large company. Thus, our goal to begin building a house soon became a reality.
What a labor of love was Brother Joel’s. He did more than build a house for my family. He was ready to help us in any way. We worked only on Saturdays. It took 10 months, and it did not interfere with our Church work. Other Church members also helped us. My father came to help several times, which allowed him to get to know members of the Church better. He especially got to know Brother Joel, who had become our home teacher.
One Saturday my father praised Brother Joel for the way he worked.
I said, “Dad, do you know how much I have paid for his services?”
He said, “No.”
“I haven’t paid him a cent,” I said. “He has done this service because he loves my family. He is a good man.”
I realized my father was choked up, and he didn’t say anything. I felt he was probably remembering how he had treated the bishop and the missionaries and was embarrassed. He saw that the members of the Church had always treated us well.
On the day we finished the house, 16 men, most of them members of the Church, were there. My relatives and friends who were not members certainly learned a lot that day.

Thanks for the article “A True Champion” in the March 1991 issue. I was impressed that a starting basketball player would give up her playing time for another girl. She was selfless because she knew the other girl’s father might not live much longer.
I learned that being kind because you want to overshadows being nice for some reward.
Peter NielsonBluewater, New Mexico

In the worn pages of an pioneer’s old journal, we read: “We bowed ourselves down in humble prayer to Almighty God with hearts full of thanksgiving to Him, and dedicated this land unto Him for the dwelling place of His people.”

In a touching letter I received just this week, a mother wrote of her Marine son who is serving for the second time in a Middle Eastern war. She says that at the time of his first deployment, “he came home on leave and asked me to go for a walk. … He had his arm around me and he told me about going to war. He … said, ‘Mom, I have to go so you and the family can be free, free to worship as you please. … And if it costs me my life, … then giving my life is worth it.’” He is now there again and has written to his family recently, saying, “I am proud to be here serving my nation and our way of life. … I feel a lot safer knowing our Heavenly Father is with me.”

When I opened my mission call, I was excited that I was going to the Ghana Accra Mission. I would be serving the Lord by teaching the gospel in English. I am from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, so my native language is French.
When I arrived in the mission field, I could greet people in English but not say much else. I knew that was not enough for me to fulfill my duty as a missionary.
I thought of the Prophet Joseph Smith, who translated the Book of Mormon “by the gift and power of God.”1 I also thought of the Apostle Paul’s teachings about “diversities of gifts,” including “divers kinds of tongues” and “the interpretation of tongues” (1 Corinthians 12:4, 10; see also Mormon 9:7, 24).
A motivational feeling came over me that made me feel that I could seek the gift of tongues and receive it. To receive that gift, I decided to set several daily goals:
Pray for the gift of tongues.
Diligently study the scriptures and gospel doctrine and principles.
Seek guidance from the Spirit.
Listen to general conference talks in English.
Study English grammar and key missionary vocabulary.
Always speak English.
Sing hymns in English.
I worked hard on my goals. The gift of tongues, however, did not come right away. But after a few months, while my companion and I were teaching one of our friends, I felt confident in the words I spoke. Our first meeting with our friend had been challenging. I hadn’t felt any confidence in my ability to speak English, but this day our friend acted surprised.
“Elder Lono, where are you from?” he asked me
“I am from DR Congo,” I replied.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes!” I replied.
I hadn’t realized it, but I had become fluent enough in English that our friend thought it was my native language. I am grateful that the Lord blessed me with the gift of tongues so that I could speak English well.
I know that God loves His children and will bless us with gifts of the Spirit as we seek them diligently with faith in Jesus Christ.

When we noticed that many of the hymnbooks at church were tattered, we set up a family Hymnal Hospital. In the church library, we use a hymnal repair kit with rubber cement and tape to carefully mend each hymnal “patient.” We then return the hymnals to the chapel. We love helping put the hymnals back together!
Caleb, Calvin, Sadie, and Liberty H., ages 8, 10, 11, and 2, Georgia, USA

Elder Richards continues:
“The Priesthood is not static and a man’s ordination to it is not a static investiture. There may be some men, however, who so regard it, for they seem to be so smug and content with their ordinations.
“I can well imagine such a man going into the presence of the great Eternal Judge and saying in substance, ‘While I was on earth I was a High Priest. I come now to claim the reward of a High Priest.’ I think it is not difficult to suppose what may be his answer. He will likely be met with such questions as these, ‘What did you do when you were a High Priest? How did you use this great power which you held? Whom did you bless with it?’ Upon his reply to such interrogatories as these will his reward be predicated.” (In Conference Report, Apr. 1937, pp. 46–47.)

I am 11 and in the sixth grade. In the May issue of the New Era I read a story about a girl who was over six feet tall. I am pretty tall for my age, but not that tall. Sometimes people call me names too, like “toothpick” and “too tall,” but I have never really cared. But after I read that story, I am happy that I am tall!
Pam DavisOgden, Utah

I used to work at a customer service call center where it was impossible for co-workers to socialize much with each other. Our supervisor decided to organize a lunch one Saturday with the entire group to give us a chance to get acquainted. She instructed each of us to bring some object that was valuable to us and explain why it was significant.
As I thought about her request, I realized that this would be an opportunity to teach my co-workers about the gospel. Because religion is a sensitive topic, I knew I had to be careful regarding the object I took and how I explained its value to me.
When the lunch day arrived, we all enjoyed getting to know each other better. After lunch our supervisor began our activity by presenting her valued object—a family photo album. She told us of the difficulties she had gone through while separating from her husband, becoming a single mother, and starting a new life.
Following several other presentations, it was my turn. I told my co-workers that my object was something I brought with me every day: my CTR ring. I told them that the letters stood for “Choose the Right” and that the ring reminded me to always obey the commandments of God. Several people asked questions about the Church and Latter-day Saint beliefs, which gave me an opportunity to tell them about the importance of families in our Heavenly Father’s plan for His children, that families can be eternal, and that we have a Savior who gave His life for us. I also shared some experiences from my mission. As I spoke, I felt the Spirit, as did my co-workers.
After that day some asked other questions about the gospel, and I invited several of them to church. I later changed jobs and never found out if any of them became interested in knowing more, but I felt good knowing that I had told them that the true Church of Jesus Christ is upon the earth and that Heavenly Father has a plan of happiness for His children.

Rather than watch TV all the time, we like to read! And after all of our chores are done and the house is clean, we can use the Internet. We use a timer to keep track of the time we get to spend on the computer.
Ellie, Jared, Ethan, and Abby H.; ages 8, 11, 2, and 6; California

Once I did something terrible to him without meaning to. He was coming up the stairs, steadying himself with his hand on the wall. When he got to the door at the top, his hand poked through where the door hinge is. I didn’t see him, and I slammed the door on his finger. He screamed and screamed. Mom and Dad rushed him to the hospital because the end of his finger was badly cut and he needed stitches. I felt awful. But when he came back home, he gave me a hug, so I knew that he still loved me. He was really brave and hardly ever cried about his finger, and he wasn’t even two years old! I felt awfully proud of him.

Perry was riding his bicycle past the old Bennett place when he saw a sign that read: RANGEVIEW KENNELS.
On a small board underneath it he read: SUMMER HELP WANTED. Parking his bike beside the driveway, Perry walked past the white frame house and down a dirt path to the kennel.
All the dogs were golden retrievers. They had long, silky hair that ranged from cream color to honey blond. They raced up and down their pens, wagging their tails.
“Good morning,” a man greeted Perry. The man was on his knees, brushing a dog’s wavy coat. “I’m Roy Luther.”
“I’m Perry Marshall. I’d like to help you this summer, sir.”
“You’re kind of young, aren’t you?”
“I’m ten.” Perry stood up straighter. “I can clean the runs, groom and exercise the dogs, or do whatever you need done.”
The man seemed to be thinking it over. “Why do you want to help me? I can’t hire you as a regular worker, you know, because you’re too young.”
“Yes sir, I understand. But I’m going to be a veterinarian when I grow up,” Perry explained, “so I’d like to learn as much as I can now.”
“I see.” Mr. Luther stopped brushing the dog and stood up. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a little test to see how you do with one of our dogs.”
“That sounds fair,” said Perry. “What’s the test?”
Mr. Luther lifted a pup from one of the pens and placed it at Perry’s feet. “This is Amber. She hasn’t had any training. Take her over there behind the kennels and see what you can teach her. Here’s a leash.”
“Thanks, Mr. Luther.” Perry snapped the leash onto Amber’s collar. The pup began to jump up and down against his knees like a yoyo.
“Take it easy, girl.” Perry led her into the field and up a hill behind the kennels’ buildings. For a while he just stroked Amber and played with her. The books that he had read explained that a trainer must win the dog’s trust and affection before he could begin to teach it obedience.
When Amber had calmed down, Perry unhooked the leash and said, “Sit.” He spoke firmly, pushing at the same time on the puppy’s hindquarters. “Sit.”
Over and over Perry repeated the word as he gently pushed. Amber sniffed the grass and then sniffed the boy. “Sit.” Amber cocked her head and stared at Perry. Suddenly she lunged at his face, licking it all over.
“No,” Perry said sternly. “Sit.”
Amber soon grew bored with the “game” and trotted off across the field to explore. Perry let her go. When he finally called, she came bounding back to him like a tumbleweed propelled by the wind.
“Sit.” Amber just wagged her tail. So Perry decided to try a different command. “Shake.” Taking Amber’s right paw in his right hand, he slowly moved it up and down. “Shake.” Again and again he repeated the word and the motion.
Once, when Perry held her paw too long, Amber lost her balance and toppled over. Perry collapsed in the tall grass and laughed. When he sat up, he saw Mr. Luther watching from a distance. It was time to teach this pup something. Anything.
“Shake.”
It was no use. Each time Perry lifted her paw, Amber licked his hand. He went back to “Sit.”
The sun was straight overhead when Mr. Luther strode up the hill. “How’s it coming, son?”
“Fine, sir. Just fine.”
As soon as Mr. Luther had gone away, Perry said, “Let’s take a break, Amber.” This was hard work, much harder than he had expected.
After a short rest, Perry moved to a spot farther from the other dogs. Perhaps their barking was distracting the puppy.
“Amber! Come here, girl! Let’s get back to work.”
Perry’s shirt was starting to cling to his back in the heat. Still, he persisted. “Sit,” he said, pushing gently but firmly on Amber’s hindquarters.
The pup rolled over in the grass, waving her paws in the air. When she got up and started to chase her tail, Perry knew that it was time to end the lesson. Sighing, he stood up and hooked the leash back onto her collar. “Come on, girl.”
While the dog frisked about him, Perry walked slowly toward the kennel office, trying to figure out what to say to Mr. Luther. It had seemed like such a simple test. How could he ever hope to be a vet if he couldn’t even teach a dog to sit?
“How’d you do, Perry?”
“I didn’t have any luck at all, Mr. Luther. I tried, but I couldn’t teach this pup anything. Not one thing.”
“You know, Perry, some dogs learn fast, but others need more time. I can show you a few pointers that might help with Amber. Can you come tomorrow morning at nine?”
“Sure I can! But I don’t understand, sir. I failed the test.”
Mr. Luther smiled. “You didn’t fail the test, Perry. I saw how you handled Amber. You never hit her. You never even raised your voice. That shows a lot of patience, and patience always wins in the end. I reckon you’ll be a big help to me this summer.”

The Visit of the Angel Moroni, 1823. “He called me by name, and said unto me that he was a messenger sent from the presence of God to me, and that his name was Moroni; that God had a work for me to do; and that my name should be had for good and evil among all nations, kindreds, and tongues. …
“He said there was a book deposited, written upon gold plates. … He also said that the fulness of the everlasting Gospel was contained in it, as delivered by the Savior” (JS—H 1:33–34).

When I was 23, my grandmother passed away. Though she had lived a beautiful life, she was still relatively young, and her death came sooner than expected. I knew that many had lost much more than I had and that my grandma was at peace, but I still felt pain knowing I would never see her again in this life.
Through this sadness, however, I felt Heavenly Father and the Savior reaching out to me. Kind visiting teachers and friends brought sweet notes and treats, and a dear neighbor stopped by my family’s house with a book she said she felt inspired to purchase for us. The book contained quotes from apostles and prophets on the plan of salvation and the reality of life after death.
As I read the words of the prophets out loud with my sister that evening, I felt the sweetest peace settle on my heart. I knew that because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, all of us could be made clean and able to dwell with Him in the next life. I knew that “he bringeth to pass the resurrection of the dead” and that all things—and people—would be restored to their proper place (Alma 40:3; see also Alma 41:2). I knew that because of the Atonement, all the members of my family, including those who have passed on, can be together forever, and for that I will be forever grateful.
Amanda Seeley, Utah, USA

A new animal was coming to live in the zoo, and the other animals were excited. One morning a big truck backed up to an empty cage, and out stepped the new animal.
The other animals stared in amazement. The new animal did not look like any animal that they had ever seen before. He had a long neck and a long tail, and when he opened his mouth, he barked. One by one the other animals turned away from the cage. Because the new animal was so different, they were not sure how to treat him.
The new animal was very lonely. The other animals ignored him, so he had no one to talk to. He was so sad that he could not eat. The zookeeper began to worry. People stopped visiting the zoo because the new animal was sad and the other animals hid in the backs of their cages.
One day the elephant heard the new animal barking to himself. “The new animal does have a good trunk,” he told the giraffe. “It’s not as long as mine but is really quite nice.”
The giraffe stretched her neck to take a closer look. “Look at his strong neck. He can reach as high as I can.”
The lion was looking quietly at the new animal’s mane. “My goodness! He has an excellent mane—almost as thick as mine.”
Just then the zebra trotted by the cage. “His coat has a very nice pattern,” she said.
“And his horns are curved just right,” the mountain goat said, “just like mine.”
When the monkey came swinging from the trees, he said, “Look at that handsome tail. I wonder if the new animal would like to play tag?”
Finally the duck waddled by the cage.
“What fine feet you have. You probably can swim faster than I can,” she said.
The new animal stopped crying and thanked the duck for the compliment. Soon all the animals were talking together. They felt much happier. Even though the new animal looked different, the other animals had all found something about the new animal that they liked.

I converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints during the summer of 1980 at the age of 13. One of the things the missionaries who taught me did, besides bringing the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ into my life, was to give me a subscription to the New Era. For the next six years, this fantastic magazine served as a pillar in my life, many times providing me spiritual strength when I needed it most. I somehow lost touch with the New Era many years ago. Now I’m reading the New Era again, and it still has the Master’s touch—just as it did 14 years ago. Even though I’m now 27, the pages of your magazine still come alive for me with so much of our Savior’s love. Thank you so much for the wonderful job you do in providing such a powerful spiritual tool to the youth of the Church—even the “youth” who are a little bit older.
Scott L. GibsonSalt Lake City, Utah

Last year, just before school started, the priests of the Ketchikan Ward were having a lesson on fasting. They started discussing how much easier it was for them to fast with a purpose instead of feeling like they were just starving. Russell Youngberg said, “We realized that school was about to start and a fast Sunday was coming up, so we sort of put the two together. The entire ward youth would fast for each other to be able to resist temptations and have a good school year.”

Forrest Allred remembers how they came up with the idea. “We were talking about how to make the youth stronger and more righteous. We were confident that fasting would work.”

The bishop also thought it was a great idea. He invited the Young Women to join in. Amanda Youngberg said, “The bishopric came into the Young Women classes and asked if we wanted to participate in the fast. We all did it together.”

They planned for the first weekend of September. They started their fast individually on Saturday afternoon. For some, having a distinct reason helped. Kaitlyn Skinner said, “Our parents could join us in our fast, but since the youth were fasting together, it was easier for me.”

The next day, fast Sunday, all the youth met after fast and testimony meeting in the seminary room. Adam Fitzgerald, one of the priests who talked about the original idea, described what happened. “I remember feeling the Spirit really strong. We all knelt, which was hard to do because the room was very full. The bishop gave the prayer for us. I remember him talking about us having a good year and that we would become bonded to one another and resist temptations throughout the year and continue our growth and development. Personally, as he was saying those things, I knew that it was going to be that way.”

Ryan Gray was on the student council at Ketchikan High School and noticed that the LDS students were more connected after their fast. “In this school, we’re small in number. We all have our own friends, but we’re all friends at the ward. We’ve got strength. Fasting for each other was a good way to start the year.”

This unity, these friendships, these positive choices are the very things the teens were fasting for.

Russell says, “I think our fast made a difference, at least it has to me. It seems whenever any member sees another member at school, we stop and talk on the way to class. It feels like there is a stronger bond in the youth group. As for the fast, my stomach did the same stuff as always when I fast, but we all had a purpose for fasting, and that made it a lot different.”