Gospel Story Finder

During this moment of unbridled job, Moises Marzan Mabunga, Sr., who first saw the light of day in Naguilian, La Union February 13, 1917, and Vicenta Mercado of Manila, silently shared with each other their testimony of finding the gospel of truth and live after many years of searching, radiantly recalling the day, 13 years before, when two missionary sisters (Sisters Garrison and Smithen) knocked on the door of their home at Molave Street, Project 3 in Quezon City, to bring the message of the restoration.
The events that followed after this meeting with the missionary sisters were as varied as they were interesting. At first, Bro. Mabunga was obstinate and unmoved by the assuring words of the missionary sisters. He had to rationalize for more than four months, and later to ask and pray in the presence of no one but God for divine guidance. On July 11, 1964, at Brother Grimm’s residence at Sta. Mesa, he was baptized with his wife and children.

When I returned home to Chile after my mission, I felt confident. In fact, my next decisions seemed clear because I felt so connected to Heavenly Father. However, as I started attending college, meeting friends, and even dating someone, I found that listening to the Spirit and feeling the joy of the gospel grew increasingly difficult.
I prayed every night to the Father to feel again what I had felt on my mission. But I didn’t get an immediate response.
The answer came later when I read Alma’s words to his son Helaman: "I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6).
I thought to myself, “What are the small and simple things that I’m not doing?”
I realized there were a lot of spiritual habits I hadn’t been prioritizing since my mission, and I needed to make a change.

The Holy Ghost and Me
Before going to stay at the hospital, I wanted to have the gift of the Holy Ghost. I didn’t know if I could get baptized while I was going through treatments. But it worked out. I was baptized and received the Holy Ghost when I turned eight!

Inspired by Sister Elaine S. Dalton’s talk “Guardians of Virtue” from the general Young Women meeting last year (see Ensign, May 2011, 121–24), youth of the Eastern Cape province in South Africa decided to carry out a similar activity to demonstrate their commitment to “lay aside the things of this world, and seek for the things of a better” (D&C 25:10). On a windy morning 45 youth and leaders met outside a dance club, symbolizing the world and its values, and walked 22.6 km (14 miles) to the chapel, symbolizing Zion and their commitment to the Lord and His standards.
These young men and women happily marched their way up and down hills, across highways and the town. The youth relied on each other to keep walking despite fatigue and aching muscles. They sang songs, talked about their challenges, and even held onto each other as they crossed roads and climbed steep hills.
“This is very exhausting,” said Zukhanye M., a Laurel, during the walk. “But it is very enjoyable as it helps us bond with our fellow brothers and sisters. This has definitely taught me to try exercise more!”
Whilst their goal was achieved to walk to Zion symbolically, the ultimate goal is to all hold firm to the gospel standards and obtain exaltation, not alone, but together as a ward family.

When Elder David A. Bednar was growing up, his father was not a member of the Church. His dad was a good man. He went to church with his family and helped them with their activities and goals.
Even though his family did not have family home evening or family prayer together, Elder Bednar prayed and read scriptures with his mother.
Elder Bednar loved his dad and consistently tried to be a good boy and a good example to him. Many years later, his father decided to become a member of the Church, and Elder Bednar was able to baptize him!

My mother, Margaret, moved from Switzerland to the United States as a young woman. Not long after that, she had an appointment to receive her patriarchal blessing. But when she went to meet with the patriarch, he wasn’t there. For whatever reason, my mother felt like that was confirmation the Lord didn’t have anything to tell her, and she never rescheduled her appointment.
From time to time over the years, I would suggest to my mother that she reconsider receiving her blessing. She was one of the most faithful women I ever knew. However, she was so humble that she replied that she didn’t merit anything special from the Lord. She didn’t need a blessing, she said, because she was just a simple girl. And she was OK with that.
Finally, when she was 90, we convinced her to schedule an appointment with her patriarch. Ironically, there was a miscommunication with this patriarch as well, and when Mother showed up, the patriarch was out of town. “See?” she said. “I told you the Lord has nothing special to tell me.”
Fortunately, she and the patriarch were able to meet the next week. When the blessing was given, it was filled with gifts, promises, and details about her life that were so personal they could have come only from the Lord’s knowledge of her.
“I guess the Lord did have something to say to me, after all,” she said.

I thought at first that my wife, Eva, had nudged me. But as I turned over, I could see that she was still asleep. As I sat up, I had the distinct impression that I needed to go to the living room. I slipped out of bed and headed down the hallway. Checking the children as I passed their bedrooms, I could see that they were sleeping soundly.
In the living room, a comforting warmth radiated from our coal-burning stove, which was burning the evening’s load of coal. The damper was set correctly, and the furnace seemed to be working properly. Everything looked normal. Even our dog was sleeping, oblivious to my presence. Outside, I saw only motionless shadows lying across a snow-covered yard.
As I again looked around the room, I was perplexed. The impression I had was real. So why was I standing alone in the living room at 3:00 a.m.? I lingered for a few minutes but finally decided to return to bed.
Just as I started for the bedroom, I heard a metallic swoosh sound behind me. I quickly turned around to see smoke and hot cinders billowing from the back of the stove! A rivet on the stovepipe had suddenly snapped, and a section of the pipe had slid down into another section, leaving a gaping hole in the pipe.
I called to Eva for help. Then I quickly donned a pair of heavy leather gloves that I kept near the stove and squeezed the stovepipe seam back together. After reconnecting the pipe piece, I joined Eva in clearing the smoke from the living room. We then surveyed the damage.
Cinders and soot had burned only a small section of carpet. Had I not been there when the pipe rivet snapped, the whole living room would have been quickly engulfed in flames. The likely destruction of our home and the possible loss of our lives had been averted—thanks to a gentle but indelible impression from the Holy Ghost.
Returning to bed, I was grateful that a loving Heavenly Father, who is over all things, would warn me about a small metal rivet that would fail on that cold winter night.

Shortly after the Pacinis moved their growing family to New York, Rosalene went into preterm labor. The doctors considered surgery to deliver the baby because his heart rate kept dropping. But when his heartbeat normalized, the family went home relieved.
At a follow-up appointment a few days later, the doctor couldn’t find a heartbeat. Their baby boy was delivered a few hours later—stillborn.
“Losing my baby was heart-wrenching,” Rosalene says. “I have never felt as empty as I did after they took his little body from my arms.”
The family flew to Utah to bury him next to Rosalene’s mother. For weeks after, Rosalene couldn’t bear to leave and move on with life.
“I think I understand a little how Elizabeth wondered if she could go on,” Rosalene says. “But she did. We may all find ourselves in that place at some point in our lives. But we can’t stop. We move forward by relying on our Savior more than we did before, and eventually we recognize the miracles that have surrounded us all along.”

Snowshoe Thompson Danny was sad. His letter asking his dad to come home for Christmas would not get to him because of the snow. People in Placerville, California, in those days didn’t know about skis. No one there knew about skis—except John Thompson. … An easy-to-read biography.Nancy Smiler Levinson6–8 years

Minnie Petersen, in Kamas Valley, was just a small child when she was asked to weed a neighbor’s flower bed. Not receiving proper instruction, she simply went out and pulled up all the plants that didn’t have blossoms on them. One day her father sent her over to Brother Olsen, the blacksmith, to borrow a monkey wrench. To help her remember the name of the tool, her father told her to think of a little animal. When she asked for the wrench, she asked for a “mouse wrench.” From that time forward, she was Mouse Wrench Minnie. When she was a little older, she and other young people were instructed to clear some land for cultivation. They chopped down willows and sagebrush, picked up rocks and hauled them off, and in the evening had a big bonfire of all the brush. All the young people in the village were there. They roasted potatoes to eat with salt and hung over the fire pieces of fresh meat. They played games and exchanged ghost stories. When they went out to gather wild strawberries, currants, and gooseberries that grew along the streams, they combined it with swimming in the creeks. In most groups there was nearly always one person who played the concertina, harmonica, or violin, and so they often had accompaniment for group singing and dancing.

Harold B. Lee learned to recognize the Spirit at an early age. One day he started toward some rundown sheds, but a voice called his name and told him not to go there. Harold obeyed. He continued to follow the Spirit throughout his life, such as when he led the Church Welfare Program. He also led the Church department that developed learning materials to help members recognize the Spirit in their own lives.

When Primary general president Cheryl C. Lant was sent to visit with children in South Africa in 2005, she worried about whether she could emotionally handle the living conditions of some of the children. When she actually met with them, though, her reaction surprised her.
“I did see children in terrible conditions, and I knew I could do nothing to change it,” Sister Lant told students during a February 2006 devotional at Brigham Young University. “But I also felt an overwhelming love for them and a sense of God’s love for them.”

They’re brothers, on the road and off. They work together, play together, and eat together. But if that isn’t enough brotherhood, the Osmonds, of recording and concert fame, have formed a foundation to promote the brotherhood of man.
The Osmond Foundation was organized to aid the deaf and blind, to help combat drug abuse and alcoholism, and to promote a feeling of brotherhood and goodwill throughout the world.
Their experiences gave birth to the Osmond Foundation idea. It won enthusiastic support from the other members of the family and the Foundation was organized in late 1971.
The Foundation is organized and managed completely by the Osmond family. They’re all actively involved in it. The father of the clan, George V. Osmond, Sr., is president. Serving as secretary is his wife Olive, and son Alan is vice-president. Sons Virl and Tom act as managers of the Foundation, and the other Osmond children—Wayne, Merrill, Jay, Donny, Marie, and Jimmy—add their moral support, both instrumentally and vocally. The members of the singing group often spend their time at home in Provo, Utah, stuffing envelopes and licking stamps for the Foundation.

One father reported that he had asked his teenage son, “Why don’t you ever come to me to talk over your problems?”

The son had answered, “Did you ever talk things over with your dad?”

“No,” the man replied.

His son said: “Things aren’t so different now.”

“I was about eight or nine years old when I lost the sight in my right eye. But it wasn’t until I looked through binoculars that I realized I could see only through my left eye. I lost the use of that eye when I was about fourteen years old. Now I can see only the difference between light and dark.”

But having lost the ability to see with his eyes, Brother Juntratip has been able to develop the ability to see with the Spirit.

It’s mine! I saw it first.
Doesn’t matter who saw it first. It belongs to whoever lost it.
Lemme see if I can find a name in here.
Wow! That’s a lot of money!
I saw it first, so that money’s mine!
Like Franco said, it doesn’t belong to any of us.
Somebody’s going to be really happy to get this back.
Let’s ask your dad to help us find them.

When I found out that a little girl in my ward named Courtney had cancer, I wanted to help her. I have a little brother the same age as Courtney, and I knew I would be sad if my brother was going through what she is. So I found a way to raise some money for her treatments!
My Three Little Pigs
I had three pigs—Oreo, Lightning, and Rosie. I took care of them since they were babies. I loved giving them marshmallows, taking them for walks on leashes, and spending time with them. I was planning to sell one of my pigs at the county fair to help save up for my goal to become a veterinarian.
I Wanted to Help
Just before the county fair, I found out that Courtney was sick with cancer. My neighborhood decided to have a garage sale to raise money for her treatments. When I saw everyone else working so hard, I wanted to do my part, but I didn’t have any money to give.
The Day of the Fair
I decided to use the money from selling my pig at the fair to help Courtney. When the day of the fair came, I was a little sad because at first my pig wasn’t raising much money. But when people at the fair heard that the money was for Courtney, they wanted to pitch in.
We Helped
I got to give the money from my pig to the garage sale fundraiser. By the end of the fundraiser, we had helped raise a lot of money for Courtney’s treatments.
Courtney’s Courage
Courtney is done with cancer treatments, but she goes back for tests to make sure she’s still healthy. Her hair is growing back, and she loves having more energy. She always has a good attitude and a smile. Courtney and her family are grateful for how much Heavenly Father has blessed them.

Anna Matilda Anderson was a young girl who lived in Sweden in the 1880s. When she and her family joined the Church, they were ridiculed for their beliefs. Anna’s mother decided they should move to America and join the Saints in Utah. Anna was 11 years old when she and her sister, Ida, were sent ahead to earn money and bring the rest of the family. They sailed to the United States, then traveled by train to Ogden, Utah, where Ida left by covered wagon to work for her sponsors in Idaho. Anna was completely alone on that train as it continued to Salt Lake City. She spoke no English and knew no one. Can you imagine the loneliness and terror of her ride?
The train pulled into the darkened Rio Grande station just before midnight. The relative who was to meet Anna was not there. Anna stood watching with dread as the station slowly emptied. Finally, she was alone with a German family who also had no one to meet them. The darkness was thick and threatening, closing in around her. She later recalled: “I started to cry and thought about the last thing my mother told me: ‘If you come to a place where you can’t understand what the people are saying, don’t forget to pray to your Father in Heaven because He can understand you.’” Anna knelt by her suitcase and pleaded with all her might for heavenly help. Haven’t we all said prayers like that?
The German family motioned for Anna to follow them. Having no other choice, she walked behind them, crying. Arriving at Temple Square, they heard rapid footsteps. A woman was hurrying toward them, studying each person she passed. She looked at the German family, then pressed on. Anna caught the woman’s searching gaze. The woman stopped, unbelieving. She recognized the young girl! And with a shock, Anna recognized the woman. She was her Sunday School teacher who had left Sweden a year earlier! Pulling Anna tightly into her arms, the teacher wiped away her frightened tears. She told Anna: “I was awakened over and over again. … Images of the arriving immigrants raced through my mind. I could not go back to sleep. I was prompted to come to the temple to see if there was anyone I knew here” (journal of Anna Matilda Anderson, in author’s possession).
Can you believe it? A Sunday School teacher sent in a pitch-black night like an angel of light! “So you see,” Anna remembered, “my Heavenly Father more than answered my prayers. I only asked for someone who could understand me, and He sent someone I knew.”
Years later, Anna explained how she took that amazing journey alone: Her faith in the Lord assured her that something better was waiting just ahead. This gave her the courage to cross an ocean without her mother, pray to her Father in Heaven when she was lost, and walk toward the safe haven of the temple. Anna moved through the unknown and left a path for others to follow. One of those who followed Anna’s faith-filled footsteps was my husband. You see, Anna was his grandmother.

I share with you an account described in a mother’s letter to me relating to prayer. She wrote:
“Sometimes I wonder if I make a difference in my children’s lives. Especially as a single mother working two jobs to make ends meet, I sometimes come home to confusion, but I never give up hope.
“My children and I were watching a television broadcast of general conference, and you were speaking about prayer. My son made the statement, ‘Mother, you’ve already taught us that.’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ And he replied, ‘Well, you’ve taught us to pray and showed us how, but the other night I came to your room to ask something and found you on your knees praying to Heavenly Father. If He’s important to you, He’ll be important to me.’”
The letter concluded, “I guess you never know what kind of influence you’ll be until a child observes you doing yourself what you have tried to teach him to do.”

When I was a young adult, I began investigating the Church. At first I was drawn to the gospel by the examples of my Latter-day Saint friends, but eventually I was attracted to the unique doctrine. When I learned that faithful men and women could keep progressing and ultimately become like our heavenly parents, I was frankly amazed. I loved the concept; it rang true to me.
Soon after my baptism, I was studying the Sermon on the Mount, and I recognized that Jesus taught this same truth about eternal progression in the Bible. He said, “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.”