Gospel Story Finder

Among those first Saints to arrive in Utah was Jane Manning James—the daughter of a freed slave, a convert to the restored Church, and a most remarkable disciple who faced difficult challenges. Sister James remained a faithful Latter-day Saint until her death in 1908.
She wrote: “I want to say right here, that my faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ as taught by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, is as strong today, nay, it is if possible stronger than it was the day I was first baptized. I pay my tithes and offerings, keep the word of wisdom, I go to bed early and rise early, I try in my feeble way to set a good example to all.”
Sister James, like so many other Latter-day Saints, not only built Zion with blood, sweat, and tears but also sought the Lord’s blessings through living gospel principles as best she could while holding on in faith to Jesus Christ—the great healer to all who sincerely seek Him.

We are blessed to live in a day when the Lord has called living prophets, seers, and revelators to warn us and guide us to prepare for today’s challenges. In 1998, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) gave inspired instruction and warning to Church members:
“The time has come to get our houses in order.
“So many of our people are living on the very edge of their incomes. In fact, some are living on borrowings. …
“The economy is a fragile thing. … There is a portent of stormy weather ahead to which we had better give heed.”2
Recently I spoke with a man who heard the words of President Hinckley and the promptings of the Spirit. He and his wife decided to liquidate their investments, pay off their home, and get out of debt.
Today that man is self-reliant. The economic downturn that followed had minimum impact on his family. In fact, his self-reliance made it possible for him and his wife to serve a mission.

One day when President Hinckley was about five years old, he was sitting on his front porch with some friends. A family of another race walked down the street. Young Gordon and his friends made some unkind remarks. His mother talked with them and told them that all people are sons and daughters of God. That day he learned we must respect and help one another, regardless of race, religion, wealth, or anything else.

We are an Argentine family, members of the Church, who have lived in Switzerland for the past three years. Every month we receive L’Etoile (French) and also the Liahona (Spanish), complete with local news.
In 1963 I served a two-year mission in Argentina. My last area was the Mar del Plata Branch, where I met many good brothers and sisters.
Since I literally devour the magazines by reading them cover to cover, I found the name of a sister I know from that branch among the Church Public Relations representatives in stakes and districts. I hadn’t heard anything about this sister for twenty-six years.
I told my wife, “I must get in touch with Sister Marta Macri.” So I sent a letter to the address I had for that branch (today there is a stake there) and—here’s the miracle—I received a letter from 16,000 kilometers away.
This sister told me she had been inactive for almost eighteen years before she returned to the Church. She told me about people I knew who were good friends. What a blessing the Liahona is! This was a testimony to me of how we can keep friends in spite of time and distance. Thank you for this special publication.
Miguel Angel MatteazziGeneva Lac Ward, Geneva Switzerland Stake

When I was a child, fast Sunday was something of a burden. My little tummy rumbled all day long, and I could hardly wait for dinnertime when I could break my fast. By the summer before my sixth-grade year, I had started to gain a greater understanding of the principle of fasting, and just as I did, it happened—I got sick.
This wasn’t your average cold and flu, either. My body was acting very strangely, and no one seemed to know why. After four months and visits to countless specialists, I finally got an answer. I was diagnosed with a rare disease that makes me thirsty all the time and very sensitive to dehydration. Because the disease is rare, the doctors couldn’t tell me much about what day-to-day life was going to be like. I was simply given medicine in the hope that it would help.
So when the next fast Sunday came, I tried to fast from food and water, just as I had always done. Big mistake. Because of my disease, fasting from water even for a few hours makes me very ill, as I quickly found out.
I was very upset by this. “If I drink when I’m fasting,” I thought to myself, “it won’t be a full fast! I won’t be doing enough!” This thought troubled me for months. I studied scriptures about fasting and prayed about this problem a great deal. I also talked to my parents and Young Women leaders about it, but still I felt uneasy.
The answer came to me one fast Sunday morning as I read the story of the widow’s mite in the New Testament (see Mark 12:41–44). The widow’s offering was small in the eyes of the world, but the Savior accepted it lovingly because He knew that it was all she had. I knew then that my fast was sufficient because it was the very best I could do. The Lord wasn’t measuring my sacrifice against what others were giving, but against what I was capable of giving.
Since that day I have developed a firm testimony of fasting. I have learned that I must also study and pray while I fast so the Spirit can be with me. But most important, I have learned to always give my best, and that is enough. The Lord doesn’t ask us to give more than we have strength for (see Mosiah 4:27).

The place we chose to visit was the Gulf of California near Puerto Peñasco, Mexico. Our family had vacationed there before, and it was only about a six-hour drive from our home. In addition, at times of new and full moon the tides at Puerto Penasco are so extreme that the water surface fluctuates over 20 feet up and down twice daily, alternately exposing and covering a rocky reef several hundred yards out from shore. At low tide it is actually possible to wade out to this reef, where one can find a number of creatures usually not seen on the beach.
Our first trip was a two-nighter, and we had the good fortune to collect a wide variety of life forms and get most of them back alive. Included in our catch were about a dozen different species of fish, several different types of sea star, a diverse assortment of crabs, shrimp, clams, snails and barnacles, and some sea hares.
We brought our collection home in ordinary Styrofoam ice chests. To help the creatures survive the trip, we turned the car air conditioner on full blast to keep the water as cool as possible. Low temperatures reduce animals’ activity rates and decrease their need for oxygen. But we still added some oxygen to the water by means of battery-operated bubblers.
In addition to collecting specimens to add to our pond, we also collected data on sea surface and beach temperatures, so as to increase our knowledge of the best method of operating the pond’s temperature control system. To do this, we used an infrared thermometer that gave us the temperature measurements we sought by merely pointing the instrument’s heat radiation sensor at either the land or the water.
As soon as we arrived home, we added our catch to the pond. Normally, we would have taken an hour or two to get the creatures used to their new water; but after traveling so long with such a small volume of water, we felt it best to get them into the “fresh” salt water as soon as possible.
Much to our delight, everything survived and has continued to prosper to this day—except for those creatures that have served as food for others. Our bullseye puffers, for instance, ate the barnacles and sea hares, and our larger crabs devoured a lot of clams and snails as well as each other! Now, however, even they are beginning to disappear; for on our last trip, we brought home an octopus, and crab meat is a temptation he just can’t resist.

We may experience hunger, for instance, but if so, we can still respond as did the widow who used the last of her meal to feed Elijah (see 1 Kings 17:8–16). Such sharing amid real deprivation and poverty is always touching. Earlier in his life, a wonderful bishop of my youth, M. Thirl Marsh, repeatedly tried to be hired at the mines during the Depression. Being underage but large of stature, he persisted and was hired, but several friends were not. Apparently, on more than one occasion after his hard day’s work, generous young Thirl shared his earnings equally with these friends until they too were hired. No wonder he was such a caring shepherd of the flock later on.

When John was seventeen, he began work as an apprentice blacksmith to Captain Benjamin Lawrence of Middlebury, Vermont. During the next four years the tall youth became a skilled craftsman.
By the time John was thirty years old, he was married and owned his own blacksmith shop. Twice his shop was destroyed by fire, but each time he quickly rebuilt it, and he worked longer hours to make up for his losses.
Besides his regular work, John designed pitchforks, hay and manure forks, hoes, and shovels. The tools he made were sturdier and easier to handle than the ones the farmers had been using.

One day when I was tired and wondering if I really had the energy to kneel and pray, it dawned on me that there are good reasons why the Lord commands us to do certain things over and over again, such as praying and reading our scriptures. When we pray repeatedly—not repetitiously, but with real intent—our prayers become more and more natural, more and more meaningful. We gain confidence in calling upon our Heavenly Father.

Lisa stood with her elbows on the window sill watching for Grandmother’s little car. Her big eyes sparkled as she pressed her nose against the cool glass trying to get a better look.
“I wish she would hurry,” Lisa said out loud, leaving a large steamy spot on the window.
With her finger she drew squiggly lines through the steam as she thought about the pretty blue dress Grandmother brought her the last time she came. “I know she’ll bring me something as nice this time,” she said confidently.
Just then Grandmother’s car turned into the driveway. “Grandma’s here! Grandma’s here!” Lisa cried as she opened the door in welcome and ran to Grandmother’s open arms.
“What did you bring me?” she asked.
Grandmother smiled her usual happy smile and gave Lisa a big hug. “I didn’t bring you anything this time, dear,” she said.
Lisa pouted. Her shoulders drooped with disappointment. She wouldn’t even look at Grandmother.
“I’m sorry you’re so sad, Lisa,” said Grandmother. “Sometimes I bring you something and sometimes I don’t—but I love you all the time.”
Suddenly Lisa’s face broke into a smile. “I love you too,” she said, flinging her arms around Grandmother’s neck.
That afternoon when Lisa went upstairs to her room, she opened the drawer where she kept all her treasures. There were beads, pretty rocks, ribbons, bright bits of colored yarn, a little ball, and a small plastic turtle. And there in the corner of the drawer was Lisa’s favorite treasure—a sparkling earring.
Lisa picked up each of the treasures, and then she carefully put them down again as she thought and thought. It was hard to decide what to choose. She picked up the sparkling earring. It was especially beautiful. She was sure Grandmother would like it. But Lisa liked to wear it when she played house, so she placed it back in the drawer.
She picked up the little ball, the small plastic turtle, and one pretty rock and walked toward the bedroom door.
Grandma would like that sparkling earring better, Lisa thought again as she stopped and looked back at the drawer. Then she walked over to the drawer and exchanged the pretty rock for the sparkling earring.
Lisa hurried to find her grandmother.
“See, Grandma,” she said, smiling. “I have some presents for you. Now you’ll have toys in your purse for all your grandchildren to play with, and here’s a pretty earring for yourself.”
“Thank you,” said Grandmother, examining the sparkling earring. “It’s beautiful!”
Grandmother gave Lisa a special smile and a warm hug. Lisa smiled back with happiness as she said, “I won’t always give you presents when you come to see me, Grandma. But I love you all the time!”

Imagine squeezing all the toothpaste out of the tube. (If you have younger siblings or were a curious toddler yourself, maybe you don’t have to imagine.) You might gently roll up the tube, or maybe grab and squeeze with abandon. But once the toothpaste is out, it’s extremely difficult (maybe impossible) to get it back in.
That sticky toothpaste mess is like the information you share from your technological devices. Once you send it, post it, or share it, your words or pictures are out there, and there’s no way to get them back.
That’s why it’s so important to be wise and thoughtful about everything you put out there. Sexting, cyberbullying, or thoughtlessly oversharing can have monstrous consequences on our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. But that doesn’t mean all technology is bad or that we need to fear it. Squeezing toothpaste all over the bathroom is a bad idea. But that doesn’t mean you should throw out all toothpaste and swear off brushing your teeth forever. With toothpaste and technology, it’s all about how you use it.
Remember the toothpaste? Once you post or send something, it’s out there. You no longer have control over who else might see or share it. Everything you post is permanent (even if you delete it). It can be copied and is searchable. Remember, there’s always a chance that future employers, family, friends, enemies, and strangers will see it. That might not matter to you now, but what about 5 or 10 years from now? Would a future employer get a good impression of you from your social media pages? Would you want your future spouse or children to see your posts or messages?

A friend and I were discussing questions we had about our faith while snowshoeing in the mountains. After listening to her, I asked why she decided to remain an active member of the Church. Her response was profound: “I don’t know the truth about everything, but I know that Christ is the source of all truth. He is the reason I continue to believe.”

I felt the Spirit when she said those words. I believed in my heart that Christ was “all truth,” but logically I still didn’t quite understand everything about His gospel. So I decided to search the scriptures to better articulate what I believed in my heart.

When I was first called as a bishop, I discovered that our record for subscriptions to the Relief Society Magazine in the Sixth-Seventh Ward had been at a low ebb. Prayerfully we analyzed the names of individuals whom we could call to be magazine representative. The inspiration dictated that Elizabeth Keachie should be given the assignment. As her bishop, I approached her with the task. She responded, “Bishop Monson, I’ll do it.”

Elizabeth Keachie was of Scottish descent, and when she replied, “I’ll do it,” one knew she indeed would. She and her sister-in-law, Helen Ivory—neither more than five feet tall—commenced to walk the ward, house by house, street by street, and block by block. The result was phenomenal. We had more subscriptions to the Relief Society Magazine than had been recorded by all the other units of the stake combined.

I congratulated Elizabeth Keachie one Sunday evening and said to her, “Your task is done.”

She replied, “Not yet, Bishop. There are two square blocks we have not yet covered.”

When she told me which blocks they were, I said, “Oh, Sister Keachie, no one lives on those blocks. They are totally industrial.”

“Just the same,” she said, “I’ll feel better if Nell and I go and check them ourselves.”

On a rainy day she and Nell covered those final two blocks. On the first one she found no home, nor did she on the second. She and Sister Ivory paused, however, at a driveway which was muddy from a recent storm. Sister Keachie gazed about 100 feet (30 m) down the driveway, which was adjacent to a machine shop, and there noticed a garage. This was not a normal garage, however, in that there was a curtain at the window.

She turned to her companion and said, “Nell, shall we go and investigate?”

The two sweet sisters then walked down the muddy driveway 40 feet (12 m) to a point where the entire view of the garage could be seen. Now they noticed a door which had been cut into the side of the garage, which door was unseen from the street. They also noticed that there was a chimney with smoke rising from it.

Elizabeth Keachie knocked at the door. A man 68 years of age, William Ringwood, answered. They then presented their story concerning the need of every home having the Relief Society Magazine. William Ringwood replied, “You’d better ask my father.”

Ninety-four-year-old Charles W. Ringwood then came to the door and also listened to the message. He subscribed.

Elizabeth Keachie reported to me the presence of these two men in our ward. When I requested their membership certificates from Church headquarters, I received a call from the Membership Department at the Presiding Bishopric’s Office. The clerk said, “Are you sure you have living in your ward Charles W. Ringwood?”

I replied that I did, whereupon she reported that the membership certificate for him had remained in the “lost and unknown” file of the Presiding Bishopric’s Office for the previous 16 years.

On Sunday morning Elizabeth Keachie and Nell Ivory brought to our priesthood meeting Charles and William Ringwood. This was the first time they had been inside a chapel for many years. Charles Ringwood was the oldest deacon I had ever met. His son was the oldest male member holding no priesthood I had ever met.

It became my opportunity to ordain Brother Charles Ringwood a teacher and then a priest and finally an elder. I shall never forget his interview with respect to seeking a temple recommend. He handed me a silver dollar, which he took from an old, worn leather coin purse, and said, “This is my fast offering.”

I said, “Brother Ringwood, you owe no fast offering. You need it yourself.”

“I want to receive the blessings, not retain the money,” he responded.

It was my opportunity to take Charles Ringwood to the Salt Lake Temple and to attend with him the endowment session.

Within a few months, Charles W. Ringwood passed away. At his funeral service I noticed his family sitting on the front rows in the mortuary chapel, but I noticed also two sweet women sitting near the rear of the chapel, Elizabeth Keachie and Helen Ivory.

As I gazed upon those two faithful and dedicated women and contemplated their personal influence for good, the promise of the Lord filled my very soul: “I, the Lord, am merciful and gracious unto those who fear me, and delight to honor those who serve me in righteousness and in truth unto the end. Great shall be their reward and eternal shall be their glory.”

Each of us remembers with affection the teachers of our youth. I think it amusing that my elementary school music teacher was a Miss Sharp. She had the capacity to infuse within her pupils a love for music and taught us to identify musical instruments and their sounds. I well recall the influence of a Miss Ruth Crow who taught the subject of health. Though these were depression times, she ensured that each sixth-grade student had a dental health chart. She personally checked each pupil for dental health and made certain that through public or private resources, no child went without proper dental care. As Miss Burkhaus, who taught geography, rolled down the maps of the world and with her pointer marked the capital cities of nations and the distinctive features of each country, language, and culture, little did I anticipate or dream that one day I would visit these lands and peoples.

As the youth and their leaders completed the trek, other stake members gathered at a local park for a “Welcome to the Valley” celebration. McKenna Gustafson, 14, remembers feeling “so happy” when she was greeted by the cheering of more than 900 people.
“I saw my younger brothers and sisters running toward us, and I started crying,” she remembers. “I thought about what it will be like in heaven when we see our family and friends who have gone before us and what an awesome reunion that will be.”

A letter Joseph wrote in 1842. A journalist named John Wentworth asked Joseph to explain how The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came about. Joseph responded in a letter and included information about the First Vision.

Thankfully, many of our members understand this doctrine and live it during the course of their daily lives. I recently read a news account of a tragic death in a community here in Utah. A grieving young widow was quoted: “We’ve been overwhelmed by support. We’re not Mormon, but the local ward here has been all over us with meals and help and words of comfort. It’s been a total outpouring of love, and we appreciate it” (quoted in Dick Harmon, “Former Ute’s Death Leaves Wife Coping, Wondering,” Daily Herald [Provo, Utah], 11 Aug. 2001, A3).

When my wife and I visited Sister Choi, she ushered us through a gate toward her backyard. Hundreds of carefully cultivated plants—fruits, flowers, and vegetables—spread across a narrow space.

“She hath done what she could”! What a succinct formula! A journalist once questioned Mother Teresa of Calcutta about her hopeless task of rescuing the destitute in that city. He said that, statistically speaking, she was accomplishing absolutely nothing. This remarkable little woman shot back that her work was about love, not statistics. Notwithstanding the staggering number beyond her reach, she said she could keep the commandment to love God and her neighbor by serving those within her reach with whatever resources she had. “What we do is nothing but a drop in the ocean,” she would say on another occasion. “But if we didn’t do it, the ocean would be one drop less [than it is].”9 Soberly, the journalist concluded that Christianity is obviously not a statistical endeavor. He reasoned that if there would be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over the ninety and nine who need no repentance, then apparently God is not overly preoccupied with percentages.10

Ben Lomond 11th Ward
The Primary children of the Ben Lomond 11th Ward, North Ogden Utah Ben Lomond Stake, filled 50 bags with school supplies and toys to send to children and orphanages in Ecuador. The project was a huge success because of the children’s enthusiasm and the donations from ward members.