Gospel Story Finder

The young men and young women of the Loomis First Ward, Loomis California Stake, noticed that several members of their ward were military veterans whose service had never been acknowledged. They decided to correct that. The priests and Laurels planned a special program on a day set aside to honor those who have served their countries. The day is known by several different names: Veterans Day, (US); Armed Forces Day (UK); Remembrance Day (Commonwealth nations); Armistice Day (other countries).
The Laurels and priests gathered photos and information from the veterans ahead of time and then put together books complete with photos, descriptions of military service, and letters of appreciation from the youth in the ward. Jennifer Beddes said, “The Veterans Day program opened my eyes to how much the veterans have given to us and how much they continue to support the community.”
During the program, the youth presented the veterans their books. Mikaela Kester, Laurel class president, said, “The event turned out even nicer than expected. It made me appreciate even more what these men have done, and I loved being able to show my gratitude through this program.”
Colin Fluckiger summed up the feelings of the young men and young women who participated: “It was a great time to honor the veterans from our ward and give them the respect and honor they deserved.”

“One time my mother told me that I could have a birthday party and invite anyone I wanted. We decided that eight children would be about right. But when I got to school and looked at all the children in my class, I couldn’t decide whom not to invite, so I invited all of them without saying anything to Mother. Instead of eight children at the party, there were forty-four! She just laughed about it and put some cupcakes into the oven. By the time we had played our games, she was able to serve them all something. A lot of mothers would have been upset over the situation, but not mine.

In another instance, a Laurel class president determined that she was going to fulfill her responsibility to activate a girl even though her leaders felt the situation was almost hopeless. Her bishop told her that because of some problems in the home and for other reasons, there was very little chance this girl would ever come to church. The other class members laughed when they learned helping this girl come back to church was to be one of the goals of their class president.

Nevertheless, she was determined to befriend this girl and enlisted the help of a neighbor girl as well. They began by saying “Hi” whenever they saw her and always stopping to visit for a minute. Then they started finding reasons to visit her. She was selected to be a member of the Booster Club for her high school wrestling team. The Laurel class president took her a flower and a note expressing congratulations. This process went on for three or four months. Finally, one Sunday the girl accepted an invitation to come to Sunday School. The next week she was there again, and that week she also attended Mutual. Because of her courage and faith, a young Laurel influenced one of her peers to take the first step toward activity in the Church.

From the time of his youth, Joseph understood that a great key to cultivating humility is to seek our Heavenly Father through sincere, heartfelt prayer. Daniel Tyler, an early Church member, recalled a time in Kirtland when many had turned against the Prophet. Brother Tyler, present in a meeting where the Prophet prayed with the congregation for the Lord’s help, described the experience in these words:
“I had heard men and women pray … , but never until then had I heard a man address his Maker as though He was present listening as a kind father would listen to the sorrows of a dutiful child. Joseph was at that time unlearned, but that prayer, which was to a considerable extent in behalf of those who accused him of having gone astray … , partook of the learning and eloquence of heaven. … It appeared to me as though, in case the vail were taken away, I could see the Lord standing facing His humblest of all servants I had ever seen.”9

See Dad take us on bicycle rides.
Ride, ride, ride.
See Dad play games with us,
Ball, ball, ball,
Chess, Chess, Chess,
Scrabble, Scrabble, Scrabble,
Battleship, Battleship, Battleship,
Sorry, Sorry, Sorry (that’s a game).
Dad cannot play very well.
We always win.
Is this on purpose?
Hmm, Hmm, Hmm.

I would like to relate to you an experience which I had with President Henry B. Eyring several years ago when he was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. Elder Eyring was assigning missionaries to their fields of labor, and I was invited to observe.
First, we knelt together in prayer. I remember Elder Eyring using very sincere words, asking the Lord to bless him to know “perfectly” where the missionaries should be assigned. The word “perfectly” said much about the faith that Elder Eyring exhibited that day.
Then as each missionary’s picture appeared on a computer screen, to me it was as if the missionary were in the room with us. Elder Eyring would then greet the missionary with his kind and endearing voice: “Good morning, Elder Reier or Sister Yang. How are you today?”
After assigning a few missionaries, Elder Eyring turned to me as he pondered one particular missionary and said, “So, Brother Rasband, where do you think this missionary should go?” I was startled! I quietly suggested to Elder Eyring that I did not know and that I did not know I could know! He looked at me directly and simply said, “Brother Rasband, pay closer attention and you too can know!” With that, I pulled my chair a little closer to Elder Eyring and the computer screen, and I did pay much closer attention!
A couple of other times as the process moved along, Elder Eyring would turn to me and say, “Well, Brother Rasband, where do you feel this missionary should go?” I would name a particular mission, and Elder Eyring would look at me thoughtfully and say, “No, that’s not it!” He would then continue to assign the missionaries where he had felt prompted.
As we were nearing the completion of that assignment meeting, a picture of a certain missionary appeared on the screen. I had the strongest prompting that the missionary we had before us was to be assigned to Japan. I did not know that Elder Eyring was going to ask me on this one, but amazingly he did. I rather tentatively and humbly said to him, “Japan?” Elder Eyring responded immediately, “Yes, let’s go there.” And up on the computer screen the missions of Japan appeared. I instantly knew that the missionary was to go to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
Elder Eyring did not ask me the exact name of the mission, but he did assign that missionary to the Japan Sapporo Mission.
At the end of the meeting Elder Eyring bore his witness to me of the love of the Savior, which He has for each missionary assigned to go out into the world and preach the restored gospel. He said that it is by the great love of the Savior that His servants know where these wonderful young men and women, senior missionaries, and senior couple missionaries are to serve. I had a further witness that morning that every missionary called in this Church, and assigned or reassigned to a particular mission, is called by revelation from the Lord God Almighty through one of these, His servants.

In her English class Melanie must speak slowly and distinctly, with a heavy British accent, or she might be misunderstood. “They teach British English here, not American English,” she chuckles. “They tell me Americans speak too fast and swallow their words.”
Kirsten Rhau, 16, one of Melanie’s friends, chats with her following the class. “Melanie is just like any other student,” Kirsten says. “She understands well, and if she makes a mistake in grammar, we correct her nicely. She does the same for us in English. We’ve formed a ‘mutual aid society.’” The two friends often meet between classes and usually spend lunch together.

Sean’s older sister, Amanda, is in fifth grade. She likes ice skating and practices at the same rink as the New York Rangers hockey team. There are no other members of the Church in Amanda’s grade, and she has many opportunities to set an example of what a Latter-day Saint child is like. She remembers one party at which several girls were choosing a video. They wanted to watch a PG-13 movie. Amanda said, “I’m not allowed to watch PG-13 movies.”
One of her friends said, “But your mom will never know.” Her friends went ahead and watched the movie, but Amanda didn’t. She left the room. Soon her friend Kaitlyn joined her, and the two of them found something else to do. Sean is glad that he has an older sister and brother who set a good example.

By the time they arrived at the home of Sister Beverly Gillis, a Reading Pennsylvania Stake youth leader, they were ready for movement. They were ready for sounds louder than lapping water. They were ready to dance!
Sister Gillis’s yard had been lit by white lights strung through the trees. A few chairs had been set up around the edges of the deck that would serve as the dance floor. Then the music started. In many ways it was a typical youth conference dance. The music was too loud for the leaders, and not loud enough for the youth.
But then something unusual started happening. The chairs around the edges of the dance area were empty. There were no wallflowers. Instead of pairing up, the teens were dancing in circles with five or ten other friends. Everyone was drawn in. The gap that must be crossed when asking someone to dance was nonexistent. No one was allowed to sit out unless they absolutely insisted that they needed a break. At this dance, youth from eastern Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland were united. There was only one “in” group, and everyone belonged.

I knew of a man who never looked up; consequently, he never lived—he just existed. Over a period of years this man became a slave to alcohol. Drink by drink he accumulated all the miserable habits and characteristics of a drunkard. He walked the streets in a stupor of mind and with an unsteady step. When greeted by friends passing by, his response was a feeble wave of the hand or an almost inaudible grunt. Physically, he was a wreck.
To avoid people and conversation, this alcoholic would stagger off the path or into the gutter, for that was the direction of his look. He seemed oblivious to the people, the things, and the events around him.
Many pitied this man who had lost health, pride, purpose, family love, and other blessings. They observed his shackled condition but did little or nothing to remove or help him remove the shackles. Others, without compassion ridiculed him.
After many years of suffering, some unselfish people helped this man work a miracle. These friends invested countless hours of loving care, much kindly persuasion, many fervent prayers, and all else required to reform the man. In the process of repentance, (1) he allowed the written word of God to nourish his impoverished soul; (2) he fixed his eyes upon a living prophet and tuned his ears to the prophet’s teachings; and (3) he also rekindled faith in himself by exercising faith in Christ.
In time he gained the confidence and strength to walk with steady stride on the sidewalk. He was successful in breaking Satan’s bonds. He straightened his shoulders, looked people in the eye, and began to converse with others.
More important, he assumed his rightful role as a loved husband and respected father. I’m told that when this man—this new man—stood in church and bore his testimony, he expressed these thoughts:
“You’ll never know how wonderful it is to recognize people by the smiles on their faces rather than the dust on their shoes.”
“You’ll never know how wonderful it is to gaze upward at a blue sky rather than downward at darkened ground.”
“You’ll never know how wonderful it is to return home from work and have your children run toward you with love, rather than away from you with fear.”

Jesse opened her eyes and lay quietly for a moment in the unfamiliar room. She closed them again and pictured the pleasant desert town where she used to live. I’ll miss the swimming pool most of all, she thought. This town at the foot of the mountains feels very different, but it must have a good pool somewhere.
And today she would find it. Her mother had promised her they would. Jesse threw back the covers. Placing her hands under her knees, she swung her limp legs off the bed and sat up.
She pulled her wheelchair close to the bed and shifted herself into it and maneuvered into the bathroom.
At breakfast in the large, sunny kitchen, she asked her mother about going swimming.
“You haven’t started on your math lessons,” her mother reminded her.
“I hate math, and you did say that we could go today.”
“We will. Anyway, doing the math at home is better than going to summer school, don’t you think?”
Jesse sighed. “Yes. I just wish I’d worked harder last year and didn’t have to do it now. Well, I’ll try to get something done.” She wheeled out onto the wide, pleasant front porch and set her books on a table.
A girl about Jesse’s age emerged from a white house directly across the street. She hopped lightly down the front steps and gave Jesse a casual wave. Jesse waved back and watched the girl disappear around the corner on her bicycle.
At that moment Jesse’s mother came out onto the porch. “How about inviting that girl to go swimming with us this afternoon?” she asked.
The girl’s name was Diana. She and Jesse found very little to talk about as they rode to the pool.
Once in the water, Jesse became like anyone else. If anyone stared, it was with admiration. In the water her useless legs were no problem as her strong arms took her smoothly to one end of the pool and back. After several laps, Jesse stopped at the deep end and looked around for Diana. She finally spotted her splashing around in the shallow end. “Come on down here!” Jesse called.
Diana struck out, splashing and thrashing. As she reached the center of the pool, the splashing increased, and Jesse could see that Diana was no longer making any real progress. Her wild strokes became more frantic. Jesse swam quickly to her, caught one hand in hers, and pulled her to the edge. Diana sputtered and coughed and rubbed her face with her hands.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t swim very well?”
“Was I supposed to shout across the pool, ‘I’m a terrible swimmer’?” She coughed again.
“Let’s get out a minute,” Jesse suggested. Diana climbed out and sat quietly beside Jesse on the edge of the pool.
“I don’t really like the water much,” Diana said, breaking a long silence.
“Well, I try to keep in condition,” Jesse said.
“Condition for what?”
“I want to be on the swim team at school, and I do wheelchair racing and stuff.
“You’re really an athlete, huh?”
“I have a lot of respect for my body, such as it is,” Jesse said quietly. “What do you like to do for exercise? I’ve seen you ride your bike.”
Diana answered, “I ride my bike to get places because it’s easier than walking. I’d rather read. I guess I’m the scholarly type.”
They rode home in silence. Diana climbed out quickly and called out her thanks.
“I don’t think I’ll be seeing much of her,” Jesse said to her mother. “We don’t seem to have much in common.”
“Having something in common helps, but it’s not absolutely necessary for friendship,” her mother commented.
The next morning Jesse again sat on the front porch with her math book. She opened the book and stared for a few minutes at the page. What could be more boring than math?
She saw Diana come out her front door. Diana waved to Jesse, hesitated for a moment, then crossed the street. Jesse smiled and motioned for Diana to sit down.
“What are you doing?” Diana asked, looking at the books.
“I did so poorly in math last year that I have to take the course at home and send the work sheets in.”
“Why did you do so badly?”
“I guess I was more interested in swimming and racing. The teacher gave us a lot of homework, and I didn’t do most of it. I think math is pretty hard—and boring.”
“I’ll help you. I like math.”
Jesse smiled up at her. “Will you?” she said. “That would be great.”
“Well, Jesse, we have to exercise our minds, too, you know,” Diana said, with a twinkle in her eye.
Jesse looked at Diana for a moment and then laughed. “Suppose you help me learn math, and I’ll help you with your swimming.”
“Sounds like a good summer,” Diana answered with a smile.

Properly handled, a balloon is a perfectly safe thing to “hang around” in, and it isn’t nearly as scary as it looks. “I’m sometimes afraid of heights, so I was worried about going up,” one priest says. “The day of the first flight I climbed into the basket and was checking everything to make sure it was shipshape and wondering when we were going to launch and what it would feel like, when all of a sudden I noticed that we were about a hundred feet up already. I looked down and I wasn’t even afraid.”

They all came to Utah and settled in Tooele County. They were just getting settled and making things go when they were called by President Brigham Young to St. George, and they went, like all good Latter-day Saints did in those days. But they had not been in St. George very long when they were called to settle in Meadow Valley. That is a place you folks probably have not heard about. It is now known as Panaca, in what they thought was southwestern Utah, but which actually later came to be Nevada. These people, obeying the call, again without question, were the first family to move to Meadow Valley, and they made a dugout house. Sister Young said that you may not know what a dugout house is. I replied that most of the folks would know: One digs a cubical hole in a hillside and covers it with a roof of wooden poles topped with clay.
Troubles of the few settlers with the Indians caused the authorities in St. George to give them permission to abandon the project, but Sister Jane Johnson Lee refused to leave. She said she was there to stay, and stay they did. Later two Indians came into her dugout home, and one of them, seeing a rifle in one corner of the room, demanded it. Sister Lee refused to give it to him. He started for the gun, but she struck him so hard with a piece of stove wood, it knocked him down. He staggered to his feet and drew his bow, aiming the arrow at her. She let him have another piece of wood, which smashed the bow and arrow. Both Indians departed.

Another missionary told me that when he graduated from high school he was offered $30,000 a year to play professional baseball. He refused the offer so he could go on a mission.

President Thomas S. Monson
A woman endures trials as she travels from East Prussia to Western Germany (89).

Brethren and sisters, I know Russell M. Nelson is a prophet of God, the Lord has preserved him to be an instrument in His hands at this time. In April 2018, the Lord revealed to the prophet the revelation on ministering, and in October 2018 two other revelations on Come, Follow Me and on the change in the duration of Sunday worship with a focus on home worship came. At that point we did not even know that this world would be devastated by a global pandemic, that the doors of our meetinghouses would be closed and that each father would be organizing Sacrament at home. We give thanks to the Lord for directing His Church today on earth through a living prophet, Russell M. Nelson.

I would tell them that I had some doubts at first, but I found out that all the bad things I’d heard were untrue and all the good things I’d heard were true. The more I spoke to the missionaries, the more this religion made sense to me. They answered all my questions. I feel very good about my decision to become a member of the Church.Cody D., 14, Texas

DeeAnn decided that not only was it important to express her thanks to friends, but also to her family. “I just wanted to call on the telephone and tell you I love you,” she said to her two brothers and sister on that day. Her eyes sparkled and her blonde hair bounced when she laughed, as she later recalled the event. “My brother just couldn’t believe it. He kept asking me, ‘What is the matter?’
“I knew that if I were going to try to live a perfect day, I needed to evaluate my own life. As I did so, I realized the many blessings I have. My gratitude grew and grew. And I realized how thankful I was for my family.
“Since I made that call my brother has called me a couple of times, for no particular reason, but just to make sure I was all right. He’d never done that before in all the years I’d been away from home.”

Lindsley: In the apartment complex where we lived, there was a military man and his wife. Often in the evening we would sit out on the patio and talk with him about the Church. We ended up baptizing both him and his wife, people who lived right next to us. He gave up a ten-year-old smoking habit in three days thanks to a priesthood blessing. He quit and never picked it up again.

My name is David Alvarez. I live in Rockville, Maryland, in the metropolitan area of Washington, D.C. I went to school in Potomac, Maryland, when I was younger. My siblings and I were the only members of the Church who attended that school. This meant I had to make very important decisions about what was right and what was wrong.
One day I was in gym class. We were playing volleyball. I was about to volley a ball over the net, when something green caught my eye—something on the floor. I went a little closer. It appeared to be a twenty-dollar bill. I felt a cold shiver down my spine. Nervously I pounded the ball to the other side of the net.
“Hey, look what I found!” I said to one of my classmates. He didn’t respond. “Hey, look what I found!” I repeated. He didn’t seem to hear me.
I looked up from the bill, and I realized that a volleyball was headed my way. I hit it to the other side and kept on playing for a few more minutes. After a while, I looked down at the floor, and to my astonishment, the money was still there.
I picked it up, realizing that no one else seemed to have noticed it. I stuffed the money into my pocket and thought of the reasons to keep it: If I kept it, I could pay for a couple of field trips without having to earn the money, enjoy snack times in the cafeteria, have a larger bank account, or have fun sharing it with my friends. On the other hand, someone might come up to me later and say, “Have you seen a twenty-dollar bill?” I would feel guilty if I had to say that I had spent it.
Even though I could think of more reasons to keep the money than to be honest and turn it in, I began to think to myself, What would Jesus want me to do? What would I do if He was leaning against the gym wall, looking at me?
Look at your ring, your CTR ring, I told myself. I looked at my ring. Then I could not bear it any longer. I walked over to the gym teacher and showed her the money. “I found this twenty-dollar bill on the floor.”
“Oh my!” the teacher responded. “That sure is a lot of money! I’ll turn it in to the office.”
As I went back to playing volleyball, I could feel some words inside me: Good choice, David. You did what was right. I thank Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost for giving me the courage to do what was right.