Gospel Story Finder

When you think of doing family history, you might think of someone with white hair, glasses, and wrinkles. But Seth Hill, a member of the Highland Second Ward, Pocatello Idaho Highland Stake, is working to change that stereotype. Seth is 15 years old and has the largest file of family names in the Idaho Falls Temple. But Seth doesn’t just gather names for temple work; he also constructs histories of the people he researches.
“I love learning about the lives of these people and the way they lived. It’s fun to read their wills and put their histories together,” says Seth.
Seth says that learning about the lives of people who lived a long time ago makes him grateful for the conveniences of living today, but most of all, it has strengthened his testimony of temple work.
“Often, when I’m working on genealogy, I can feel the urgency and the desire of these people to have the work done.”

When I first read the Book of Mormon, the section of the Book of Mormon that I liked the most was in Mosiah when Alma’s son was renouncing the Church and trying to destroy it. But there was a huge change in him—he felt the Holy Ghost and he was transformed into a believer. I really loved that because the opportunity to change should be given to everyone.
Maria Gracia Henrique Gonzalez, Maule, Chile

With utter trust but completely out of money, Elder Millett arrived by train in Portland, Maine, and went to the dock to find out how the Lord would provide him a way on the steamer to New Brunswick. A stranger asked Joseph to watch his baggage for him and, upon learning of the young elder’s situation, offered to pay his way.

Many years ago two colleagues of mine—a nurse and her doctor husband—asked me why I lived the way I did. I answered, “Because I know the Book of Mormon is true.” I let them borrow my copy of the book, inviting them to read it. A week later they returned my book with a polite “Thanks a lot.”

I responded, “What do you mean, ‘Thanks a lot’? That’s a totally inappropriate response for one who has read this book. You didn’t read it, did you! Please take it back and read it; then I would like my book back.”

Admitting that they had only turned its pages, they accepted my invitation. When they returned, they said tearfully, “We have read the Book of Mormon. We know it is true! We want to know more.” They learned more, and it was my privilege to baptize both of them.

In my childhood, my family went through some very troubled times. My parents divorced when I was five. My mother remarried, but divorced again. My three younger siblings and I all lived with our mother in one room in one of the worst parts of Glasgow, Scotland. Home life was quite dark, challenging, and poor.
When I was about 10, I went to a little Christian Sunday School group that met at the end of the street. We sang songs, and a teacher taught us Bible stories. One Sunday, our teacher told us the story of Zacchaeus.
Jesus was passing through the city of Jericho, and there was a great crowd of people surrounding him. A man named Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus pass by, but Zacchaeus was not very tall. He ran ahead and climbed a tree so he could see Jesus in the midst of the crowd.
Jesus looked up and called him by name: “Zacchaeus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house.”
Zacchaeus was not a popular man. He was a tax collector. Many people, seeing with whom Jesus was going to spend the day, murmured because they didn’t think Zacchaeus was worthy. Yet Jesus chose to spend time with him.
We don’t read much in the scriptures about what happened while Jesus was in Zacchaeus’s home, but we do know what the result was. Zacchaeus repented and became converted. Jesus said that salvation had come to the house of Zacchaeus. (See Luke 19:1–10.)
I wondered, if Jesus knew the name of Zacchaeus, did He know my name? If this thing called salvation could come to the home of Zacchaeus, could it come to my family? If Zacchaeus could be saved, could I? I know now that the Holy Ghost prompted me to think those thoughts.
Within two years, I discovered that the Lord did know my name and that salvation could come to my family. The Lord sent missionaries from His Church to find us. My mother was not very interested in religion, but the missionaries knocked on our door on a very rainy, wet day. They had been out working all day long, and they were soaked to the skin. My mother invited them in to get warm. When I came home from school, the missionaries were sitting by our electric heater, steam rising from their clothes. That began our teaching experience. A few weeks later, we were baptized and confirmed members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Being members of the Church has been a great blessing in our lives. We found peace, direction, and hope. I grew up to serve a mission, marry in the temple, and become the father of four children. I became the first person in all the generations of my family to attend university, and I enjoyed a successful career.

President Kasue immediately obtained a copy of the registration document and took it to the assistant chief of Chyulu Village to assure the rights of the Church to operate legally. The Saints could now meet without fear, and their membership soon increased to about 40. They needed a place to meet, but a mission had not yet been established and no meetinghouse was provided. The members built a small bower on President Kasue’s land.
In July 1991 the Kenya Nairobi Mission was organized with Larry Brown as president. Soon he and Sister Brown made a visit to Chyulu. “Although the trip was grueling, it was worth it!” says President Brown. “I remember that the sacrament meeting was held in the bower, but it was raining and the ground inside was wet. Before the priesthood holders knelt down to bless the sacrament, they threw an old sack on the mud. The next time we went, I happened to look in the sacrament trays, and there were only two small pieces of crackers. … They broke those crackers up. There were 63 people there, and I didn’t think those crackers would ever go around, but they did. It was like feeding the 5,000.”7

My Uncle Mons Andersen had said to us that we must go to his folks in Lehi. That same evening a fisherman was going past Lehi and said he could take two of us. So Mother and my brother Mathias went with him. Then someone would come after the rest of us. The train could not take us there for the track was then only laid to the Point of the Mountain. So the rest of us stayed in the tithing yard till the next day. All that day no one came. But the next day, July 20, 1872, a man by the name of Mathias Petersen from Lehi came for us in a brand-new wagon. Happy were we. We came as far as this of Sandy and stopped overnight. The next day, this being Sunday morning, July 21, 1872, we arrived in Lehi.
Now I must say a little about Sunday, July 21, 1872. As I said before, we camped overnight on the state road this side of Sandy. It was a beautiful morning, and time came for us to have something to eat before starting. There were five of us in all, and we had some baked wheat bread. There was a farmhouse some distance away, so Mathias Petersen, our driver, went over there to see if he could get some milk to go with the bread. He soon came back and a lady with him with a pan full of sweet milk. It was my first night camping out and my first meal of wheat bread and sweet milk. I shall never forget how good it tasted to me. I was overjoyed. Oh, how good I thought that lady was to bring us that good milk! I don’t know if she was a Mormon or not. But at that time I thought all the people in Utah were Mormons so, of course, I thought she was. So it was another step to me to gain a little better feeling for Mormonism.

George and Hine Chase of New Zealand found that their mission call was just right for them; they were pleasantly surprised when so many of their vocational and family talents helped them do humanitarian work in Papua New Guinea.
Elder Chase had been a carpenter and could help assess and organize projects such as establishing water wells. Sister Chase had worked for 18 years in office management. “My administration and computer skills were invaluable,” she says. She and Elder Chase used their combined abilities to run a career workshop program, helping locals learn skills like time management, organization, leadership, hygiene, and communication.
Together the Chases used the experience they’d gained from their Church callings and—most of all—from being parents. As the Chases worked to distribute school supplies and improve infant child care, their parenting experience helped them appreciate the difficulties local families and schools faced.

Last year I was baptized. I felt that I was being born again and starting a new life. Now I want to keep the commandments and the covenants I made with my Father in Heaven, even though it is not always easy.

I don’t know what to say! I was pleasantly surprised and happily shocked when I found the August 1987 contest issue of the New Era in my mailbox. I guess it came at the perfect time for me.
My older sister and I are both interested in drama. She is a wonderful actress and sister, but it seemed as though we were always competing against each other. I was beginning to think perhaps drama wasn’t really for me because of it, but your issue helped me to understand that we can share the drama field while at the same time we each have our own talents. For instance, she sings and I play the piano. She writes and I decorate. Even now the Lord is waiting for the right time in our lives to bless us with even more. Thank you for a wonderful magazine that adds so much to my life.
Name withheld

President Howard W. Hunter retold this historic story that helps me answer that question.
The final and decisive battle of the Napoleonic Wars was fought on June 18, 1815, near Brussels, Belgium, in the village of Waterloo. What is now known as the Battle of Waterloo ranks as a great turning point in modern history and brought about drastic changes in political boundaries and the power balance in Europe. At a critical moment in this great battle between the forces of the French emperor, Napoleon, and the allied forces under the command of the British general Arthur Wellesley, better known as the Duke of Wellington, an anxious officer dashed into the office of the duke with the message that unless the troops were immediately withdrawn, they must yield before the larger French army.
The duke ordered, “Stand firm!”
“But we shall all perish,” replied the officer.
“Stand firm!” again was the answer of the duke.
(See Howard W. Hunter, That We Might Have Joy [1994], 148).
“Stand firm!” was the duke’s order; victory was the result. In these two words of direction—stand firm—I take courage and counsel. Today, sisters, we are engaged in a fierce battle for the minds, hearts, and even the souls of our children, grandchildren, and other family members. But in this fight we have much more powerful weaponry and armor than did the Duke of Wellington’s troops. For we have available to us the strength that comes from faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and the power of the gospel’s ordinances. To be victorious we must arm ourselves with faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and stand firm in our convictions.

After his mission, Ezra Taft returned to Whitney, purchased a farm with his brother Orval, and served on the Franklin Stake MIA board. By the time Flora returned from her mission to Hawaii, Ezra Taft had graduated from Brigham Young University and had received a scholarship to study agriculture at Iowa State College. On 10 September 1926, Flora Amussen and Ezra Taft Benson were married in the Salt Lake Temple and set off for Ames, Iowa, in a used Model-T pickup truck. There they lived on a meager income, enhancing their meals with vegetables gleaned from the college experimental garden.

Since his daughter had recently attended a lecture by a member of a team that tried to conquer Mt. Everest, the father could not resist another comparison. “If that’s the direction you want to go, let’s take some lessons from those expert mountain climbers you met. What do you remember most about their experiences?”
“Oh, I learned a lot, but the most important thing I remember is their advance planning. They anticipated everything that could possibly happen and were prepared with decisions made well in advance in response to whatever they might encounter.
“Their teamwork was really impressive to me too. As they had tremendous hardships to overcome and heights to climb, they linked themselves together with ropes. The ropes were attached to something solid above as they pulled themselves up. Occasionally even the other people to whom they were linked became their anchors. We saw photographs showing one person dangling in midair while being tethered to people he trusted both above and below. Yet he didn’t fall because of his ties to other people!
“They also maintained excellent communications. Even though they might have been temporarily separated, they were always in good communication. It seemed that the closer they were to potential danger, the more they leaned toward the center.”
After hearing his daughter’s report, the father responded, “Did anyone ever ask the question ‘How close to the edge can I come?’”
“No! Quite the contrary. Their emphasis always seemed to be ‘How close to the center can I stay!’” Then, with a look of enlightenment, she replied, “Dad, now I am beginning to understand.”

As a member of the Church, you can expect that the full-time or the stake missionaries will ask for the opportunity to visit with you in your home. They will help you make a list of people with whom you could share the gospel. They may suggest you think of relatives, neighbors, and acquaintances. They may ask you to set a date by which you will try to have the person or family prepared to be taught, perhaps even ready to invite the missionaries. I’ve had that experience. Because we in our family accepted that invitation from the missionaries, I was blessed to perform the baptism of a widow in her 80s, taught by sister missionaries.

When I placed my hands on her head to confirm her a member of the Church, I felt impressed to say that her choice to be baptized would bless generations of her family, after and before her. She’s dead now, but in a few weeks I will be in the temple with her son as he is sealed to her.

While they were all busy looking at the slope, Max took a minute to talk about his “boys.”
“We’re real proud of them,” he said. “They’ve all progressed at least two ranks this year. But it isn’t the ranks that count. It’s the boys.” Then he told a story about one young man who’d had a problem with littering.
“We were up here in the summer, and he threw a can in the lake after he’d promised not to. I made him wade out and bring it in. Later, we had a demonstration from the forest service about the effects of littering. People don’t usually think of littering as pollution, but it’s one of the most visible kinds.”
Caring enough to go beyond just saying no, to help young men understand why they need to be responsible for their actions—that’s what Max is all about. But he shrugs off such praise lightly.

On the northeast corner of South Temple and Main Streets, across the street from where you are standing, is the Hotel Utah (3). It replaced the 2 1/2-story building that housed the Deseret News Publishing Company and the Deseret Store. The Press began publication in 1850—printing the first newspaper in the West. The printing press itself was laboriously carted across the plains in a wagon with one of the first parties of immigrants. The press was first used in the valley in 1850, and even then a paper was not published regularly.

Enter the apartment of Venkat and Lynda Dunna of the Hyderabad Fourth Branch, and there are plenty of clues that these newlyweds are crazy about each other. A handmade birthday banner from him to her is taped to the wall. An album with their wedding photos sits on the table near the sofa. As they talk, he puts his arm around her, and she smiles so often it’s contagious.
They describe how they met through Church-sponsored activities and how happy Lynda’s mother was when they got engaged because she knew Venkat from church. But there was a problem. Venkat had an older brother who was single, and in India some still hold to the tradition that older siblings should be married before younger siblings. His parents, who are friendly to the Church but are not members, were also building a house and didn’t want a wedding until the house was finished. “My parents didn’t want to say no, but they did want us to wait many months, maybe a year,” recalls Venkat.
“What helped us was the Spirit,” he continues. “I felt prompted to tell everyone that Lynda and I were both working, so we would help take care of everything but that it was important to get married as soon as possible and that it was important to start by going to the temple. We just kept thinking, ‘The Lord’s going to help us,’ and He did.”
A new Latter-day Saint chapel was opened just in time for them to have their wedding and reception there, and then they left immediately to be sealed in the Hong Kong China Temple. “Seven of us traveled to the temple together,” Lynda says. “On the same day Venkat and I were sealed, my mother, my sister, and I were able to be sealed to my deceased father. It was a wonderful day in every way.”
Venkat, who is now serving as branch president, says one of his greatest desires is to see a temple in India some day. “That will be a great blessing,” he says. “It will help us to build Zion where we are.”

Four years ago I made a personal commitment to write to my 94-year-old grandmother every week for the rest of her life. My mother has been caring for her for several years, and because my grandmother’s eyesight is failing, Mother reads my letters to her.
It hasn’t been easy to write every week, but as I have struggled to fulfill my commitment, two specific blessings have come into my life. The first blessing was one I expected—the joy of knowing that both my mother and my grandmother would come to know and love our five children as they read about our daily activities and experiences.
The second blessing came after I had written the letters for one year. Without my knowledge, my mother had kept each letter I sent. After accumulating a year’s worth of letters, she bundled up the stack and mailed the letters back to me.
As I reread my old letters, I discovered I had a detailed family journal in my hands Although I recorded major events in my personal journal, detailed accounts of our family’s day-to-day activities were kept alive in the pages of my letters. This unexpected family journal paints a vivid picture of our family life and will help our posterity know what we were like as a young, growing family.

Hi, I’m Matej! (It’s pronounced ma-tay.)
Burma is a country in Southeast Asia. It’s also called Myanmar!
Our Primary learned about some kids in our city whose families are refugees from a country called Burma. Being a refugee means they had to leave their homes very quickly because of problems in their country. Many of these kids couldn’t bring any of their things when they left. We wanted to help!
The Plan
We made a plan to help our new friends from Burma. First we would collect things these kids needed, like warm clothes. Then we would invite them to come to an activity where we could play together and give them what we had collected.
Working Together
Kids in our Primary donated extra coats and scarves. Our families got a jar to help us save chore money. Every time we brought our scriptures to Primary, we put a nickel in our Primary jar. School and neighborhood kids got involved too.
Collecting Supplies
My family used our chore money to buy hairbrushes, socks, and 40 shampoos! I liked shopping to get the supplies. It made me really excited. We also collected warm coats, gloves, and hats.
The Day of Our Activity
When our Primary and the Burmese branch Primary had an activity together, we played games and learned about how Jesus Christ is like a shepherd. We made yummy treats and talked about His resurrection. We made new friends, and we’re excited to play together again!
Finally!
My favorite part of the activity was giving everything to our new friends. They loved their coats so much they didn’t want to take them off! I was so happy to see how happy they were. Helping others is how I can show Heavenly Father that I love His children and I love Him.

Weeks later their farm sold, and her family joined several others in a small wagon train. With Brother Brigham leading the way, they started on their journey to Kirtland.
The wagons traveled slowly, and baby Anna got sick. Just when Mary Ann thought that they’d never get to Kirtland, Brother Reed ran alongside their wagon. “Kirtland’s just around the bend!”
The people urged their tired oxen on. Mary Ann bounced up and down on the wagon seat. Then she jumped down and ran ahead with the other children. As she turned the corner in the road, her heart sank. Where were all the beautiful buildings? Where was the temple Brother Reed had talked about? Kirtland was just a raw frontier town.
She plodded back to her parents. “I don’t like Kirtland,” she told them. “It’s ugly.”
Her mother smiled at her. “It’s just not finished yet. It’ll be beautiful some day. We’ll help to make it so.”
Brother Reed came and took Mary Ann by the hand. “Come with me.” He took her along a dirt road past a store and around the corner to the edge of a field. “This is where we will build the house of the Lord. When it is finished, it will be shiny and white and wonderful! It will be a fit place for the Lord.”
Mary Ann felt that sweet feeling she now recognized as the Holy Ghost. Maybe things weren’t what she expected, and maybe it would be hard to build a home again, but she knew that her family was doing what was right.
She looked at the field. It might be a long time before the temple was built, but it would be a temple of the Lord!