Gospel Story Finder

Becky Brewster, the Mia Maid adviser in the Spokane Ninth Ward, Spokane Washington Stake, was preparing a lesson on fellowshipping, and to aid in her presentation, she composed a poem. Entitled “In Search,” it is told from the point of view of a girl who goes searching for identity and love and instead finds herself becoming more and more lost and confused. Eventually a friend comes along who helps her to both find her way home and to understand that she is a daughter of God. One of those who listened to the poem, 14-year-old Lori Nibarger, was especially touched by the message and spent the following two weeks putting it to music. The result was a song that Lori has since performed in her ward and at several stake functions. Lori, who recently recorded an album of 12 songs for family and friends, is an honor student, cheerleader, and one of six sophomore senators at Mead High School in Spokane.

In 1977, major emphasis was given to the redemption of the dead. Speaking to a meeting of Regional Representatives, Elder Boyd K. Packer spoke of the marvelous capacity of the computer and of how this new technology would hasten the work. He further assured us that the Lord would continue to assist the Church along the way:
“When the servants of the Lord determine to do as He commands, we move ahead. As we proceed, we are joined at the crossroads by those who have been prepared to help us.
“They come with skills and abilities precisely suited to our needs. And, we find provisions; information, inventions, help of various kinds, set along the way waiting for us to take them up.
“It is as though someone knew we would be traveling that way. We see the invisible hand of the Almighty providing for us” (That They May Be Redeemed [address delivered at regional representatives’ seminar, 1 Apr. 1977], p 2).
Brothers and sisters, the Lord has met His servants at the crossroads. Many of these tools and skills are now in our hands. Our failure to now do this work cannot be lightly passed over.
The most prominent of the new tools which we now have in many of our fifteen hundred family history centers is the computer-aided resource entitled FamilySearch™, which has the following features:
First, the Ancestral File™ provides over seven million names linked into family relationships. The identity of the submitting party is also provided, thus facilitating cooperative research.
Second, the Family History Library Catalog™ provides easy access to the Church’s Family History Library and its resources.
Third, the International Genealogical Index™ provides data on over 147 million deceased individuals. Many millions of additional names are being added to this index.
And fourth, a new Personal Ancestral File™ computer program will permit members, in their homes, to easily organize their family history records.
In addition, over eight hundred stakes are now participating in the new Family Records Extraction Program.
This vital effort, involving over seventy-five thousand volunteers who serve primarily in their homes, will soon allow members to go to their meetinghouses to clear names for temple work rather than waiting for headquarters approval.
Yes, the invisible hand of the Almighty is providing for us, and we should live and act to merit a continuation of His help and blessings.

Our daughter Leah taught me a valuable lesson when she was just three years old. As a family, we’ve prayed together morning and evening, and we’ve encouraged our four children to take turns giving the prayer.
One morning I was running late and needed to leave quickly, but the family pleaded with me to have prayer before I left. As we knelt in a circle, I thought I would offer the prayer so I could make it quick. But Leah spoke up and said, “I want to say the prayer.”
I was a little surprised, because it would be her first time saying the prayer for the family.
I thought Leah’s prayer would be short and simple, so I asked her to begin. Her prayer started to get longer and longer. Realizing that I needed to go, my wife waited until Leah took a breath and then gently encouraged, “In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Undeterred, Leah said, “No, I haven’t finished yet,” and she continued praying to Heavenly Father as if she were visiting with a friend. I was reminded of Abraham talking “with the Lord, face to face, as one man talketh with another” (Abraham 3:11) and how he was called a “Friend of God” (James 2:23). Somehow, Leah already knew that praying to God could be like talking to a loved one in the same room. I felt humbled by the reminder.
I learned a good lesson that day, and so did all our family. Leah taught us that family prayer can be a time for our family to draw closer to God in our daily lives and that it’s always worth our time to speak with Heavenly Father as one person speaks with another.

It was a wonderful news, and I was very happy to listen to the announcement about the temple in India. The rumour was already in the air even before the conference. A friend of mine informed me about the announcement. So, overall it was not surprising, but it was really a glad and happy news to everyone. —Sister Sabitha Isaac (Chennai 2nd Branch)

I know a brother in Brazil who joined the Church as a 16-year-old, the only member in his family. When it was time for his mission, his parents objected. He heard nothing from them during his mission and returned home to his bishop’s house. The story, however, has a happy ending, as he now has a beautiful family and works as a dental surgeon, and his parents wish he could interest his brothers in the Church.

As a serviceman stationed in one of the more remote areas of Vietnam, I want to thank you for the confidence, knowledge, and small touch of home your magazine brings to me and the members here in Phu Bai. Before arriving here, I was scared of the possibility of spending a year here away from family and Church, and I could imagine all types of long days ahead as a result. However, the anxiety was needless. Within a day I saw the chaplain and he referred me to other Latter-day Saints. On Sunday when we met, it was like coming home after a long trip. In the truest sense, members of the Church are one family, and I am always pleasantly surprised at the warm response given to all who seek them out. It is like an oasis in the desert. The gospel is truly a beautiful companion and guide; and here, away from all that is familiar to me, I’ve come to recognize that God is over all and that as long as we are faithful and do his will, we have a constant strength. Since I’ve come to know this, it has been much easier to forget myself and the time and to concentrate on what God would like to use me for here. Thank you for your magazine. We are all more fully aware of our responsibilities, our callings, and our obligations, especially in a place like this, because of it. Our branch is growing. We baptized two new converts last week. A group of us flew to the China Sea for the baptism, ferried by an all-Mormon helicopter crew.
SP4 Jerry D. WilliamsVietnam

Last February my stake went on a winter trek. It was very cold at the beginning of the day, so none of us worried about putting on sunscreen. But by the end of the day, I had very, very severe burns on my face. My dad, who is a doctor, told me that I had gotten third-degree burns on my face and that I wouldn’t be able to continue on the trek the second day. I was devastated. I had been looking forward to this trek for months now. I knew I was going to miss out on spiritual experiences. I couldn’t just stay in my tent, but I didn’t know what else to do.
So the next morning my dad gave me a priesthood blessing, asking that my face would heal and that it wouldn’t get burned again. I wrapped a piece of nylon around my face and borrowed one of my brother’s hats. I went out that day looking very strange, but I was able to go out and have spiritual experiences that I wouldn’t have been able to have if I hadn’t gone.
After the trek, my family and I were all worried about my face healing and how badly it was going to scar. But as the next couple of weeks came, the burns healed like a normal sunburn. I healed completely and have no scars on my face. I know that because of the Lord’s power through the priesthood, I was able to be healed. I’m so grateful for the priesthood, and I know Heavenly Father was watching over me.
Darity T., Arizona, USA

Sweat trickled down Nathan’s back. He fingered the candy bar in his pocket—it would melt if he didn’t eat it soon. But his craving for the chocolate and nuts had disappeared as soon as he walked out of the store with it—a candy bar he hadn’t paid for—in his pocket.
Now it was growing warm and very sticky. Nathan pulled it out and looked at it. Chocolate oozed from under the wrapping onto his fingers. Spotting a trash can, he dropped it inside. I’ll feel better now, he thought. The candy bar is gone.
But the guilt wasn’t! As he trudged home, Nathan wondered why he had stolen the candy bar.
Later that afternoon Mother asked, “Nathan, will you go to the store for me, please? I need a gallon of milk.”
“From Brother Milligan’s store?”
“Of course.”
“Uh … I’m sort of busy right now. Couldn’t it wait until later?”
“No, I need the milk for dinner tonight.” Taking her wallet from her purse, his mother gave Nathan some money. “Get a gallon of milk, a dozen eggs, and a loaf of bread.” She smiled. “There should be enough left over for you to have a candy bar.”
Nathan winced at the mention of a candy bar and stared at the money in his hand.
In Milligan’s Market, he muttered a greeting to Brother Milligan. When Nathan paid for his groceries, the storekeeper put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “Nathan, you look like you just lost your best friend.”
Nathan turned and tried to smile but couldn’t. How could I have stolen from Brother Milligan? How could I have stolen from anyone? he asked himself. Aloud, he said only, “Uh … I have to get home,” not meeting the storekeeper’s eyes.
Brother Milligan looked disappointed. “Come by when you can stay a while” was all that he said.
Nathan barely tasted his dinner that evening, even though his mother had fixed his favorite meal, spaghetti and meatballs.
When Nathan knelt beside his bed to pray that night, the words caught in his throat and formed a huge lump. All he could think about was Brother Milligan, who had been his CTR B teacher two years ago. Nathan remembered one lesson in particular, about the Saints building the Salt Lake Temple. His thoughts turned to the temple. He planned to go on a mission when he turned nineteen years old and, later, to be married in the temple. How can I do any of those things when I’ve stolen something? He imagined the hurt looks on his parents’ faces if they ever learned what he had done.
The next morning Nathan skipped breakfast. He had asked for Heavenly Father’s help and had decided to fast at least one meal until he could do what needed to be done. Milligan’s Market opened at eight o’clock, and he intended to be the first one there.
Inside the store, Nathan glanced around, glad that there were no other customers yet. He found his old Primary teacher in the back. Nervously, the boy cleared his throat. “Uh, Brother Milligan, I have something to tell you.”
“Could you help me lift this box of apples?” Brother Milligan asked. “When a body gets older, he can’t do all the things he once did.”
Nathan helped the storekeeper lift the crate of apples and set it on a shelf. “I stole a candy bar from you yesterday,” he blurted out.
“I know.”
“You know? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I figured that you’d get around to telling me when you were ready.” He stooped to lift another box. Automatically Nathan bent down to help.
“As I was saying, a body needs some help when he gets older.” Brother Milligan sat on a crate and pushed his glasses on top of his forehead.
“Maybe I could help you,” Nathan offered. “After school and on Saturday. To make up for taking the candy bar.”
“Well, now, that’s a good idea. A very good idea.” He patted Nathan’s shoulder. “Did the candy bar taste good?” Nathan shook his head. “I threw it away.”
“I sort of figured you might.” The storekeeper looked at his watch and said, “You’d best be going. You don’t want to be late for school.”
“I’ll be here at 3:30.”
“I know you will, son.”
That evening Nathan told his parents what he’d done. They didn’t yell at him. In fact, they said that they were proud that he’d done the right thing in the end.
As he knelt beside his bed that night, Nathan didn’t have any trouble telling Heavenly Father what was in his heart.

he came upon the meeting in the grove
among the leaning
green and golden oaks.
without a cloudless vision of the why
he came, and waited
in a thinning dawn—
and others like himself, he reckoned, came
and listened, taut,
beside him in the oaks,
while dawn began to thin like parting fog
among the leaves
and in the way of sky.
along the warming ground the sound arose
of waiting, like
arousing bees—young wind
sang on the warm as lark calls, thinned and drawn.
the panes of sky
went soft, and then the sun
fell dappled on the words the elder said
among the leaning
green and golden oaks

My missionary companion, Paul, was someone who always radiated good cheer. As a young father, he was stricken with multiple sclerosis. Yet despite the adversity that followed, he continued serving others with joy and good humor. He once entered my office seated in his first wheelchair and declared, “Life begins with a motorized wheelchair!” I will always remember him, a few years before he died, holding high the Olympic torch while riding in his wheelchair as hundreds cheered. Like that ever-burning flame, Paul’s faith never dimmed in the storm of life.

Even Maricar Mendoza, who admits she’s somewhat shy, didn’t hesitate to raise her hand when her teacher asked who in the class wasn’t Catholic. Maricar felt she had to speak up. “I said, ‘Ma’am, I’m a Mormon.’ I explained to her what our church is, and I was able to discuss a lot of things, such as latter-day prophets, Joseph Smith, and the plan of salvation.”

Maricar still considers herself shy. But she’s glad she spoke up.

I have heard touching testimonials by young women who have worked on the third value experience in the divine nature section of Personal Progress, where young women are asked to make a special effort to strengthen their family relationships for two weeks (young men can find a similar plan in Fulfilling My Duty to God [2010], 80–81). One young woman shares, “I’ve experienced a miracle. I love my sister, and it happened in just two weeks! I’ve made it a goal to repeat this experience for each member of my family every single year. Why? Because it has made me so happy!”

My wife Kirsty and I took part in the 2022 international FSY in Germany. One FSY song from that year has stuck with me the most. It’s called “Healer”. These are the words of the refrain: “He’s the healer, The deliv’rer From all pains, from all burdens and scars. When you’re hurting, Find His mercy, And He will fix ev’ry piece of your heart.” I find it hard to sing along without getting emotional and shedding tears. Oh, how I need the Saviour to abide with me and make me whole! As we walk the covenant path with faith together, the Saviour walks with us. His invitation is the same for all of us: “Come unto Me”. He knows your heart. He knows the burdens you carry. And He alone can make you truly whole.

I went to see my bishop for a temple recommend interview with no special expectations. Temple recommend interviews are generally all the same. I was excited to have a chance to do baptisms in the Arizona Temple, and this was simply a mandatory part. I sat quietly in the bishop’s office and answered everything he asked. I could tell by his silence when I had answered the last question and looked up to watch him fill out my recommend.
After handing me my temple recommend, the bishop looked at me intently with a smile on his face and said, “Lynn, will you bear your testimony for me?” I was completely taken aback. No one had ever asked me to do that before, and I hadn’t volunteered in about six years. I didn’t like giving my testimony. The only things I knew to say were those words I had been taught in Primary. I took a breath. I began to say aloud all the things that I knew and believed. My words were simple and Primary-like, but as I said them I knew they were true and that was all that mattered. It felt so good.
As I finished and looked at the bishop’s smiling face, I smiled too. I realized how silly I had been not to bear my testimony. I had been missing out on the simple pleasure that bearing a testimony brings because I felt I didn’t have anything important to say and was fearful of what the congregation would think. When I left the bishop’s office, the calm that I had received from bearing my testimony was still with me. I remembered how strongly I had felt the truthfulness of the words as I said them. The experience had actually strengthened my beliefs. I had gone to see the bishop for a temple recommend, but I had left with much more than that.

Gwen lived in sunny South Africa with her parents and four younger sisters. Each week she and her family traveled a long distance to attend their meetings. They rode part of the way on a double-decker bus until they reached the Mowbray station. Then they walked several blocks up Grove Road to the chapel.
Gwen especially enjoyed the beautiful scenery on Sunday mornings as the family walked along together under the shade of the huge gum trees. Towering above the road like a big giant lifting his head to the blue sky was Devil’s Peak. In September when it was spring, the hills were alive with thousands of colorful proteas, daisies, crassulas, and other wild flowers.
Gwen was grateful for the beautiful world in which she lived. And because she was always happy, everyone enjoyed her special smile.
One day Gwen did not feel like smiling. That day she could not help but cry because she had severe pains in her head, her back continually ached, and she had a high fever. Her parents immediately called their family doctor.
After his examination, the doctor reported that all of Gwen’s symptoms—especially the rigid condition developing in her back—indicated she had meningitis. He suggested that a specialist be called in to consult with him.
Her parents agreed to have the specialist come, but as soon as the family doctor left, they called “Cumorah,” the mission home, and asked LeRoy H. Duncan, who was mission president at the time, to come with another elder and administer to Gwen.
When these brethren arrived, Gwen was so ill that she could not smile. President Duncan and his companion placed their hands on the girl’s feverish forehead and gave her a blessing, praying that she would be made well if it were according to Heavenly Father’s will.
Even before the elders left, Gwen began to feel better. By the time their family doctor returned with the specialist, she seemed almost well. After another examination, the specialist turned to the family doctor and said, “Sir, you must have been unduly alarmed. This child has no symptom whatever of meningitis. All she needs is a few days of rest.”
Although neither doctor could understand the great change in Gwen, she and her family knew they had all been blessed through the power of the priesthood. And once again Gwen’s face was radiant with the happy smile that everyone loved!

I was recently told of a woman in Idaho Falls, a widow. Over a period of 15 years she acted as proxy in giving the temple endowment to 20,000 individuals in the Idaho Falls Idaho Temple. She completed her 20,000th endowment on a Friday and returned on Saturday to do five more. She passed away the following week.

Just think of what this one little woman did. She performed these vicarious endowments for as many people as are assembled in this Conference Center this morning. Think of the reception she must have received on the other side.

One of my grandsons filled a mission in Australia. I copied a paragraph from one of his letters: “Things are really tremendous down here—I can honestly say I have never been so thrilled and excited and happy in all my life! The Lord is really blessing me.” Such a testimony is more meaningful when you realize that before he went on his mission he was the junior high school boy of the month; was student body president of his junior high school; was selected as Mr. Football and as best athlete in his class at the high school; was captain of the football and basketball team; and was a member of a championship all-Church basketball team.

The Spinner’s Gift by Gail Radley As white as the snow, as gold as the midday sun, as red as roses, the threads the spinner spins for the queen are magnificent in color and texture. When the thread is carefully woven into fabric, its beauty delights everyone who sees it and who eventually has possession of it, including the queen, the princess, her maid, the jeweler’s wife, a peddler, even a thief!

Time dulls some memories. Others never die. As a missionary in Kentucky and Tennessee, I had experiences that will live brightly in my mind for many years to come. During the summer of 1972 I had the opportunity of working in the small southern town of McMinnville, Tennessee. Though my stay was relatively short, it was one of the most profoundly significant times of my life.
I vividly recall the night of my arrival in McMinnville. It was early evening, and the early summer heat was stifling. I was excited. I was humble. And I was soon to come to grips with the reality of the harsh world of proselyting. This was a world where great idealism and great hope had to be translated into great faith and hard work. It was a world where baptisms were earned with blood, sweat, toil, and tears, if even then. But the Church was true, and I was excited.
Missionary work in McMinnville was hard, and the first weeks presented us with some real difficulties. The town had been tracted out on a regular basis every six months for at least the past ten years, and we only had two contacts. Fortunately, I was too green and idealistic to be discouraged, and so we went forth. And as time went on, tracting seemed increasingly fruitless. The people for whom we had the most hope seemed to be the first to lose interest. Yet in my heart I had a burning desire to succeed. The funny thing was that I really didn’t know what it meant to succeed. I didn’t know exactly what I was expecting to find, but I did know whatever real success was, that’s what I wanted.
It was early June when we called back at the first house on the right side of Van Buren Street. We had left a Book of Mormon there earlier. The husband answered the door and invited us in. The TV was on, and he returned to his easy chair where an ash tray and a beer can sat on opposite arms of the chair. After he had readjusted himself, he turned slightly and said, “Well, boys, what can I do for you?” (Boys was the common term for a couple of Mormon missionaries in the South.) I remember as I answered him that I had to speak loudly because I was running close competition with the local broadcast of Hee Haw. I explained, as best I could, why we had come: we had left a copy of the Book of Mormon with his wife, and we would like to tell them more about it as it contained a message of beauty and great importance for himself and his family. He told us he and his wife were going out for the evening but that they would be glad to have us back next week. The next week we went back. After a few preliminary introductions we were ready to go. Unfortunately Uncle Fred and his family had decided to pay an unexpected visit and showed up in the middle of the opening prayer, so we were on the road again. The next week we returned and were able to give them the first discussion. It was a rough evening. I didn’t know too much about burning hell, and the fine points of polygamy still weren’t too clear; but we explained the gospel the best we could, promised to find some more scriptural references, and bore our testimonies. Afterwards I asked Mr. Hale how he felt about the things we had discussed. I think his answer was a classic. He said, “Boys, I don’t know whether what you’ve told me tonight is true or not, but I feel like Joseph Smith did when he went to the woods to pray. I want to know the truth. I want to know the truth.” And he meant it.
The next week as we walked in the door to give the second discussion, I noticed that a curious change had taken place. The room was spotless. There were no beer cans or cigarettes this time, and the Hales were waiting for us. And to add to our rejoicing, as we pulled out our lists of scriptures on hell, polygamy, and other subjects he’d asked about, he said, “Oh, let’s go on to something else. I already believe the Church’s teachings on all that now that I’ve had a chance to think about it.” As the discussion progressed, he began asking questions he’d wondered about all his life. What a thrill it was for us to be able to give him the answers he’d been waiting so long to hear. At the end of the discussion, he confided in us that when his fellow workers found out he was listening to the Mormon missionaries they had started giving him a bad time. I asked him if this bothered him. His answer was choice: “There’s always another neighborhood to move to. There’s always another town. But if this is the truth, then that’s all that really counts.” And it was.
We knew these people were special, and more than anything we wanted them to come into the Church. I believe I learned more during that month as I searched out answers to their questions than during any other month in my life. I remember calling my district leader several times to ask for help on some tough questions. This was a particularly desperate move considering those were long-distance calls.
The third discussion was the turning point. That night I bore my testimony with all the fervor of my heart. More than anything else I wanted to touch their lives. Then an amazing thing happened. After we bore our testimonies to them, they bore their testimonies to us. They told us that they knew the Book of Mormon was true because God wouldn’t leave us with just the Bible. They told us they knew we were servants of our Heavenly Father and that the things we told them were true. And the rest—the rest is history. On July 7, 1972, Arthur and Nancy Hale were baptized members of the true church of Jesus Christ.
During their conversion I learned to love those people. In fact I would have given anything I had to see them accept the truth. For one moment I was loving and serving as Christ would love and serve. This was my joy, and my heart was full. As President Harold B. Lee once said, “If you want to love God, you’ve got to learn to love and serve the people.” This was success—to be able to love and serve others with all your heart. To love and to care, to share and to bear, to reach out and experience rebirth—this was true success. This was the answer.
I cried when I left McMinnville. Maybe I’ll go back there someday. But whether I do or not, the lesson in love I learned there will be with me the rest of my life.

One of the highlights was a visit from President M. Russell Ballard, an Apostle. My husband, Matthew, who was working on the security team, had the privilege of ferrying President Ballard around the site in a golf cart! We also had visits from President and Sister Kieron, and President and Sister McReynolds of the Manchester England Mission.