Gospel Story Finder

“I used to go hunting sometimes with my father. After he died I went alone, but quickly realized that I hadn’t enjoyed hunting much—what I had really enjoyed was being with him. Dad was the kind of father, who, when his two sons were hoeing weeds and knew they were going to die if they didn’t stop to get a drink, would say, ‘One more row, boys.’ And when we made ice cream he’d encourage, ‘Only ten more cranks, son.’ He taught me self-discipline and to go to bed early and get up early. He always helped me ‘stretch’ my efforts.
“I recall that when I was eleven years old my father told me that I had to earn all the money for my own clothes and that I should also start saving for my mission. When my mission call came, I told my father that we needed to go down to the bank and make necessary arrangements for my mission money to be withdrawn monthly and sent to me. I will never forget my father saying, ‘You didn’t think I was really going to make you pay for your mission, did you? I just wanted you to learn to work. I wouldn’t want to miss the blessing of supporting you in the mission field. You save your money, son, you’ll need it when you return.’
“My older brother, Ron, has always been an inspiration to me. I recall one evening when he came home from a Church youth meeting and announced to the family that his teacher had told him that he had to gain his own testimony and receive his own witness and to not rely on that of others. He said—almost prophetically—‘I’m going to gain that personal witness and testimony, no matter how long it takes or what the cost.’
“Ron began reading and studying the scriptures and fasting and praying. One morning a short time later, he was suddenly stricken by a paralysis. He could not move his body and his right side was in terrible pain. He was barely able to whisper to Dad that he wanted a blessing. No sooner had Dad finished blessing his son than Ron was miraculously cured! My brother uncoiled his tense body, straightened up, and was free of pain.
“When he was later examined by a doctor, the diagnosis was that he had had what appeared to be a ruptured appendix but that no trace of damaged tissue was found in his body. Later, my brother told me that during this experience he received his special witness that the Book of Mormon and the gospel were true. He wanted me to know, however, that he had received this knowledge before Dad had blessed him before his healing. He truly had shown faith before the miracle.
“This experience really influenced my life and at age twelve I began a fervent study of the Book of Mormon. I, too, received a personal witness and confirmation of the truthfulness of the gospel. I knew then, and have never doubted since, that the Book of Mormon is the word of God and that the gospel is true.
“My message to the children of the world is this: study and pray while you are young so that you, too, might receive this same witness.”

Jude Okekearu was baptised on 28 September 2024. He is from the Ibo tribe in southeastern Nigeria, who are renowned for being educated and hard-working. Jude worked in a bank, but was made redundant when it downsized its workforce. He then gained employment as a hotel manager, but at greatly reduced wages. The opportunity presented itself to come to the United Kingdom doing care work. It was a chance for a new start. He now lives in Kirkcaldy, Scotland, sharing a flat with other Nigerians.

It wasn’t always smooth. I took my first semester with my smartphone only while I was working a low-income job. It was very challenging, especially during the second semester. I couldn’t do it all with my phone anymore so I shared a laptop with a friend named Loveth Ngumah, but I could only use it at the chapel. I would go there every evening after work, wait for her to finish studying, and then I would take over. Sometimes it meant I get home at 11 PM, and some nights were spent at the chapel, but I never gave up. I knew it was going to change my life anyway, so it was worth it. Soon, I was blessed with a laptop scholarship.

On another occasion, near the Christmas season, I had the opportunity to meet in the Church Office Building with a group of handicapped children. There were about sixty in the group. My heart literally melted as I met with them. They sang for me “I Am a Child of God,” “Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer,” and “As I Have Loved You, Love One Another.” There was such an angelic expression on their faces and such a simple trust expressed in their comments that I felt I was on sacred ground. They presented to me a beautiful booklet where each one had prepared a special page illustrating those blessings for which he or she was most thankful at Christmastime. I commend the many teachers and families who work behind the scenes in bringing a measure of comfort, purpose, and joy to these special children. They brightened my entire day.

When the flooding started, their parents told the boys that they were all going sandbagging. Jimmy and Paul moaned and groaned all day. But after their parents explained to them why they were doing it—to save people’s homes and businesses—the boys were anxious every morning to get to work. Each day for two weeks, they went sandbagging with their mom from 10:30 A.M. until 3:30 P.M., when they’d go home to eat. When their dad got home from work, they all went again from 5 P.M. until about 9 P.M. They were very grateful to the Red Cross, who brought food and water so that they could stay on the job.

In April 2009 former Presiding Bishopric counselor Richard C. Edgley told the story of an exemplary quorum that mobilized to assist a fellow member who had lost his job:
“Phil’s Auto of Centerville, Utah, is a testament of what priesthood leadership and a quorum can accomplish. Phil was a member of an elders quorum and worked as a mechanic at a local automobile repair shop. Unfortunately, the repair shop where Phil worked experienced economic trouble and had to let Phil go from his job. He was devastated by this turn of events.
“On hearing about Phil’s job loss, his bishop, Leon Olson, and his elders quorum presidency prayerfully considered ways they could help Phil get back on his feet. After all, he was a fellow quorum member, a brother, and he needed help. They concluded that Phil had the skills to run his own business. One of the quorum members offered that he had an old barn that perhaps could be used as a repair shop. Other quorum members could help gather needed tools and supplies to equip the new shop. Almost everyone in the quorum could at least help clean the old barn.
“They shared their ideas with Phil; then they shared their plan with the members of their quorum. The barn was cleaned and renovated, the tools gathered, and all was put in order. Phil’s Auto was a success and eventually moved to better and more permanent quarters—all because his quorum brothers offered help in a time of crisis.”

One day I bought a song I’d heard on the radio. After it downloaded, I realized it was an explicit version. I was so disappointed because I’d wanted to listen to the radio’s clean version. I deleted the song from my library, sad that I’d wasted my money on a bad song.
I decided to email the people at the music store, saying that I was unable to listen to the song I bought because it was against my standards. Surprisingly, the next day I got an email with an apology and a free song credit.
I didn’t end up buying that song at all, because I realized I didn’t even feel good about the clean version. It helped me realize that I need to focus on the music I listen to and that I can correct my mistakes, even something as simple as buying the wrong song. I also realized how much the prophet’s guidance really does help.

As a young man just nineteen years old, Joseph F. Smith was traveling from California to Utah with a small group of Latter-day Saints. As they set up camp one evening, a group of drunken men rode into their camp on horseback. The men had guns, and they threatened to kill any Mormons who came across their path. Some of the Saints hid in the bushes by the creek. Joseph F. Smith, who had been gathering wood, boldly approached the fire. One of the drunken men, pointing his pistol at Joseph, said that it was his duty to kill every Mormon he met. He then demanded, “Are you a ‘Mormon’?”

Without a pause, Joseph F. Smith looked the ruffian in the eye and answered, “Yes, siree; dyed in the wool; true blue, through and through.” The angry man was so surprised by Joseph’s honest answer that he grabbed Joseph’s hand and said, “Well, you are the … pleasantest man I ever met! Shake, young fellow. I am glad to see a man that stands up for his convictions.” The drunken men then rode off and did not bother the Saints again. (Life of Joseph F. Smith, Joseph Fielding Smith, pages 188–189.)

Before my call to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, I read many times in the Doctrine and Covenants about the council appointed to oversee and disburse sacred tithing funds. The Council on the Disposition of the Tithes was established by revelation and consists of the First Presidency, the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and the Presiding Bishopric (see D&C 120). As I prepared in December of 2004 to attend my first meeting of this council, I eagerly anticipated a most remarkable learning opportunity.
I still remember the things I experienced and felt in that council. I gained a greater appreciation and reverence for the Lord’s laws of finance for individuals, for families, and for His Church. The basic financial program of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—for both income and disbursement—is defined in sections 119 and 120 of the Doctrine and Covenants. Two statements found in these revelations provide the foundation for the fiscal affairs of the Church.
In that first council meeting I was impressed by the simplicity of the principles that guided our deliberations and decisions. In the financial operations of the Church, two basic and fixed principles are observed. First, the Church lives within its means and does not spend more than it receives. Second, a portion of the annual income is set aside as a reserve for contingencies and unanticipated needs. For decades the Church has taught its membership the principle of setting aside additional food, fuel, and money to take care of emergencies that might arise. The Church as an institution simply follows the same principles that are taught repeatedly to the members.
As the meeting progressed, I found myself wishing that all members of the Church could observe the simplicity, the clarity, the orderliness, the charity, and the power of the Lord’s own way (see D&C 104:16) for conducting the temporal affairs of His Church. I have now participated in the Council on the Disposition of the Tithes for many years. My gratitude and reverence for the Lord’s pattern has grown each year, and the lessons learned have become even more profound.
I know from firsthand experience that the Council on the Disposition of the Tithes is vigilant in caring for the widow’s mite. I express appreciation to President Thomas S. Monson and his counselors for their effective leadership in discharging this holy stewardship. And I acknowledge the voice (see D&C 120:1) and hand of the Lord that sustain His ordained servants in fulfilling the duty to represent Him.

Laney was trying very hard to be reverent in church. But she was tired, and her legs felt wiggly.
After the sacrament was over, Laney opened her book about Jesus. She found the picture of Jesus with the little children. It made her feel peaceful and happy inside.
After sacrament meeting was over, Laney asked Mommy, “Why is it easier to be reverent when I look at my book about Jesus?”
“I think it’s because it reminds you how much Jesus loves you,” Mommy said.
Laney smiled. “Do you think Jesus knows that I love Him too?” she asked.
Mommy gave Laney a hug. “Yes, I’m sure He does.”

One day, my Young Women leaders taught us about special moments when you really feel the Spirit and feel close to God. They called them “celestial moments,” a simple phrase that was easy to remember. For me, I knew exactly what a “celestial moment” was; I’d felt it before, such as when you feel a tiny glimmer or taste of what life in the celestial kingdom might be like. And I’ve had plenty of these moments!
After our leaders introduced the idea, we went outside. The sun was gleaming through the trees. We shut our eyes. I felt the sun on my face as a warm breeze blew. Birds sang and trees swished in the wind as we enjoyed God’s creations. That was a celestial moment.

Friends who don’t share your standards could actually weaken and tear your standards down. When I first moved to my new school, I tried to fit in by saying some of the things people around me would say. I almost forgot some of my standards while trying to be like everyone. I know now that in order to build your standards, you need friends who support and share your standards. I’m grateful I eventually found friends like that because they remind me of my standards.
Logan J., age 15, Utah, USA

Just this past month, a mammoth 747 jetliner, while flying over the Pacific, sustained a gigantic tear in its side, ejecting nine passengers to their deaths and threatening the lives of all. When the pilot, Captain David Cronin, was interviewed, having brought the craft back safely to Honolulu, he was asked, “What did you do when the plane ripped open? How did you cope?”

Captain Cronin replied, “I prayed, then went to work.”

It hadn’t been that way with Tessie. She was as awkward in her world as he was in his, new in California after being given to her mother in a messy divorce settlement. He remembered the first day she’d moved into the neighborhood, lost in the shuffle of refrigerators and dining room tables. She had sat in the branches of the birch tree between his house and hers, thin legs dangling, her big eyes solemn. His heart had gone out to her as he watched from beneath his car, where he’d given up on his drive shaft to watch the scene next door.

He had worked on his car a lot back then, where he could be alone and not worry about being the life of the party or what to say when the best-looking cheerleader in the school said hello to him. Tessie had watched him from high in the birch tree, never saying a word, just watching him work. It had bothered him at first, like having a shadow looking over his shoulder, and then he’d grown to like it. It was comforting to have her there, and lonely when she wasn’t.

It was almost Christmas when David had come home late one night from a date with Sherri Gilbert. Sherri was cute, and a lot of guys liked her, so when Hank had excitedly told him that she was looking his way, well, it had only seemed right to ask her out. He hadn’t known then that the movie would be boring, the hamburgers cold, and that she would talk about nothing but her summer in France with her cousin Louisa. He had been ready to swear off women forever when he’d turned the corner and seen Tessie sitting on her front porch, her head on her knees.

She’d heard the car and looked up as it turned into his driveway. He’d cut the engine and waited a few minutes before slowly climbing out.

“Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” He’d glanced at his watch and seen that it was almost midnight. “My name is David White.”

“Hello.” She’d lifted her head slightly and peered through her bangs. “How come your car’s always broken?”

“Broken?” He’d grinned. “I don’t know. Maybe I never fix it the right way.” He’d glanced at it in the driveway. It certainly didn’t look like much, one side stripped down to primer, waiting for its paint job. “Maybe if I had somebody to help me, I could talk it over and do a better job.”

She’d hesitated a minute. “Maybe I could help. I used to help my dad with his car.”

“Hey, I’d like that. I don’t suppose you have a name?”

“Tessie Tobin.” He’d thought he’d seen excitement in her eyes. “I’m only seven, and everybody tells me that I’m too little to do anything, because I’m the shortest girl in my class, but that doesn’t matter, does it?”

He’d hidden a smile. “I don’t think so. I like short people just as much as the tall ones.”

And that had been the beginning. She’d kept her promise and left the birch tree to become his first-class mate, always ready with a wrench or rag or sometimes just a glass of lemonade.

Last Halloween, members of the Redlands Second Ward Mutual in the San Bernardino California Stake were busy making cookies and marking scriptures instead of sewing costumes and painting faces. Their efforts culminated in a “trick or treat in reverse” the evening of October 27, their regular Mutual night, when they treated 27 nonmember families to homemade cookies and a Book of Mormon.

The ward seventies group leader and the young people themselves decided who to visit. The youth were then divided into groups of six, with one representative from each Mutual class in each group. After presenting the families with the Book of Mormon and the cookies, they asked them: “Do you have any questions for us? Representatives of our church would like to stop by in a few days and see what you think of the message of the book. Would that be all right with you?” A week after the event, a list of 18 families who had been visited was turned over to the seventies quorum. These families have been contacted by stake and full-time missionaries for teaching possibilities, and families in the ward are fellowshipping the contacts. At least one girl who was visited that evening has been baptized.

The spirit of the evening was summed up by Mia Maid Rachel Hansen, who said: “We who were giving and those friends who were receiving felt a special closeness. It was a beautiful experience to see one of our nonmember friends feel the joy of accepting the gospel.”

“Did you sing that song when you were in Primary?” Jessica asked.
“No, ‘Families Can Be Together Forever’ hadn’t been written yet when I was in Primary. Several years after Grandpa passed away, Grandma heard the Primary children sing it in sacrament meeting. She felt the Spirit so strongly that she was sure Heavenly Father was speaking right to her. Grandma loved the words because they gave her comfort in knowing that her family could be together forever.”

This summer four teenage nieces and I shared a tense Sunday evening when we set out walking from a downtown hotel in a city we were visiting to a nearby chapel where I was to speak. I had made that walk many times, but that evening we suddenly found ourselves engulfed by an enormous mob of drunken parade-goers. It was no place for four teenage girls, or their aunt, I might add. But with the streets closed to traffic, we had no choice but to keep walking. Over the din, I shouted to the girls, “Stay right with me.” As we maneuvered through the crush of humanity, the only thing on my mind was my nieces’ safety.
Thankfully, we finally made it to the chapel. But for one unnerving hour, I better understood how mothers who forgo their own safety to protect a child must feel. My siblings had entrusted me with their daughters, whom I love, and I would have done anything to lead them to safety. Likewise, our Father has entrusted us as women with His children, and He has asked us to love them and help lead them safely past the dangers of mortality back home.

I plead that we will not procrastinate and that we will heed our Lord’s commandment to live the law of the tithe. I know of two missionaries who visited a very poor family. The family’s home was made of pressboard and sticks, with a dirt floor and no electricity or beds. Each evening the father, a farm laborer, spent his entire day’s wages on groceries for dinner. Departing from the family’s humble home, the senior companion thought to himself, “The law of tithing will surely be a stumbling block to this family. Perhaps we shouldn’t bring it up for a while.” A few moments later, the junior companion, who had grown up in similar circumstances in his own country, voiced his own thoughts aloud: “I know the principle of tithing isn’t taught for four more discussions, but can we please teach it the next time we visit? They need to know about tithing now because they need the help and the blessing of the Lord so much.” This missionary understood that “there is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated.” The Lord wants to bless this family and anxiously awaits their obedience so He can.

A young adult woman had a gift for writing and some personal experience with depression. When her teenage sister was dealing with a difficult situation at school, she was able to recognize that her sister was slipping into despondency. Heeding the Spirit’s promptings, she wrote her sister a series of beautiful notes, expressing her love and confidence, one for each day of an especially trying two-week period. In that small choice to meet her sister’s need, this young woman was living her mission.

I did not appreciate fully memories and self until I, with the help of others, compiled my oral history. I gave my wife a rough copy of my life story and asked her to edit it. My instructions were: “You know me better than I know myself, so please read it carefully and polish the manuscript.” A half hour later, when I returned to see how she was doing, she was crying. I said, “My goodness, is it that bad?” “No,” she answered. “It is that good!” “Have you made any changes?” I asked. “No,” she replied. “It is you speaking, and I don’t want to erase or edit you out of the record.”

Later, we gave bound copies of my history to our children. Both of us knew that the thing would probably be placed on a shelf and read only sometime. A few weeks ago, however, one of our daughters said to me: “Dad, I love you so very much.” I wondered what was wrong and I asked: “What brought this on?” She explained, “It was your oral history; I have been reading about your life.” She added: “I did not realize that you had done. … I didn’t know that you had experiences such as. …”

What a pity it would be if your children and grandchildren were denied that part of you that really should be recorded. Make certain that you are transmitting to your posterity, along with other graces of life, your innermost thoughts, your poignant feelings, and your sincere testimonies. You owe the rising generation this blessing and more.