Gospel Story Finder

Peter had always heard in Primary and read in the scriptures that prophets feel a great love for Heavenly Father’s children. One hot summer day, he discovered for himself that it was true.
Peter and his family, who lived in Iowa, were spending the summer of 1999 in Salt Lake City, Utah, at the condominium of their grandparents, who were away serving a mission. On the afternoon of August 11, Peter and his sister, Robbin, stood on the balcony, looking across at the Church Office Building and the valley beyond.
As they watched, a huge windstorm engulfed the Delta Center (a downtown sports arena) in a towering gray-black cloud. They could hear angry pops as power transformers exploded and hail rattled down. Electrical wires snapped, sparking and wriggling like brilliant glowing snakes.
“Mom!” Peter called. “Come quickly! The Delta Center is coming apart!”
His mother appeared at the window, and they all watched as giant pieces of the Delta Center roof spiraled into the air. The day had turned nearly as dark as night as the swirling storm sucked up dirt and debris, growing ever larger. Something felt familiar about the spinning, funnel-shaped cloud that came churning straight toward them.
“That’s a tornado!” Peter’s mother exclaimed. “Quick, come inside away from those windows!”
Peter grabbed his sister’s hand, and they rushed inside. The condominium was on the corner of the building’s top floor, and the room where they stood had two walls of glass. Peter knew from tornado drills at school that flying glass could be deadly. They had to get out of there, but where could they go?
A deep rumbling shook the building, growing louder every second. The wind howled. Dirt, rocks, bits of cement and wood, and who-knew-what-else pelted the windows like fierce rain.
Could they make it to the hallway? What if the glass shattered first? “The bathroom!” Mother and Peter shouted at the same moment.
Grabbing each other’s hands, the three rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door. They clung together near the bathtub, waiting and listening. The wind’s shrieking grew so loud that it hurt their ears. There was a loud bang, and the electricity went out. The walls and floors trembled. It sounded as if a jet plane was trying to land on their heads. Peter wondered if the roof might be sucked off. He closed his eyes and prayed silently. In the darkness, noise filled the room, their ears, and their minds.
Suddenly it was gone. The winds died. The banging stopped. Peter breathed a huge sigh of relief and tried to stop trembling. They were safe.
Together they walked back out onto the balcony. Miraculously, none of their windows were broken. But across the street, huge trees lay on the ground as if toppled by a massive hand. Cars had been smashed. A gigantic yellow crane had fallen against the unfinished Conference Center. Some windows of the Church Office Building had been broken.
Robbin glanced at a nearby apartment building. “Look! Look!” she cried, pointing. “There’s President Hinckley!”
Peter turned and looked. There stood President Hinckley on his own balcony, gazing out over the damage. Peter forgot the chaos below and stood watching the prophet for a long moment. At last, rather slowly, President Hinckley turned away and went back inside.
Peter smiled and leaned against his mother. “Wow,” he said softly.
Mother nodded. “That was some storm. I mean, how often does Salt Lake City have a tornado?”
“No.” Peter quickly shook his head. “Not that. I mean President Hinckley. He came to see what had happened. And you know what?”
“What?”
“I could feel his love and concern from here.”
Mother slipped her arm around his shoulder. “Makes you feel good, doesn’t it?”
Peter gave her a quick hug. “I think he loves us just as much as we love him.”
Mother smiled. “I’m sure he does.”
Fire engines, police sirens, and helicopters drew Peter’s attention back to the destruction. But he felt only peace. He would never forget the day he saw a prophet watching over his flock.

Sarah also serves Church members in her local area by teaching an English class twice a week as part of their self-reliance curriculum. She became involved in this on her mission and started it in Ireland on her return. She hopes to extend the programme throughout Scotland and Ireland this summer.

Nicholas Ofosu-Hene was a young policeman assigned to guard an LDS meetinghouse during the freeze. His duty was to watch over the building at night. When Nicholas first arrived at the meetinghouse, he saw that things had been scattered around, with papers, books, and furniture in disarray. In the midst of this disorder, he saw a copy of the Book of Mormon. He tried ignoring the book because he had been told that it was evil. But he felt strangely attracted to it. Finally, Nicholas could ignore the book no longer. He picked it up. He felt impelled to start reading it. He read through the night, tears running down his cheeks as he read.

The first time he picked it up, he read all of 1 Nephi. The second time, he read all of 2 Nephi. When he got to 2 Nephi chapter 25, he read the following: “And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.”2

At that point, Nicholas felt the Spirit so strongly that he started sobbing. He realized that in the course of his reading he had received several spiritual promptings that this book was scripture, the most correct he had ever read. He realized that the Latter-day Saints, contrary to what he had heard, strongly believe in Jesus Christ. After the freeze ended and missionaries returned to Ghana, Nicholas, his wife, and his children joined the Church. When I saw him last year, he was a police commander and was serving as the president of the Tamale Ghana District of the Church. He says: “The Church has transformed my life. … I thank the Almighty God for leading me into this gospel.”3

Perhaps the most tender expressions and examples of Joseph’s love for Emma and their children were those that came when he, because of Church work, persecution, or illegal imprisonments, was separated from his loved ones. His mind and heart were always with them, and he longed to be close to them. Even while he was doing the work of the Lord that he loved so dearly, Joseph’s constant concern was for his family and their welfare. While on a mission to New York and Canada in October 1833, he wrote: “I feel very well in my mind. The Lord is with us, but have much anxiety about my family” (History of the Church, 1:419). Joseph and Sidney Rigdon took their deep concern for their families to the Lord in earnest prayer and received the revelation contained in section 100 of the Doctrine and Covenants, where the Lord promised: “Your families are well; they are in mine hands, …
“Therefore, follow me. …
“Let your hearts be comforted” (D&C 100:1–2, 15).

That same day, the Martin company was still 325 miles (523 km) back on the trail, continuing to suffer from cold and inadequate food. A few days earlier, they had crossed the Sweetwater River to reach what is now called Martin’s Cove, where they hoped to find protection from the elements. One of the pioneers said, “It was the worst river crossing of the expedition.” Some of the rescuers—like my great-grandfather David Patten Kimball, who was just 17 years old, along with his young friends “George W. Grant, Allen Huntington, Stephen Taylor, and Ira Nebeker—spent hours in the frigid water,” heroically helping the company make the Sweetwater crossing.

Out by the dance floor, Emily Chai, one of the volunteers, sits with Connor Morris, her cha-cha partner. Like other athletes and volunteers, they’ve become good friends while learning to dance together. “After practices we all would stay and get involved in an impromptu dance party. I think we all just loved the interaction,” Emily says.
Interaction was one of Allie’s biggest goals for the athletes. Over the course of a few months, she taught six weekly workshops where the athletes were matched with a volunteer partner and learned to dance. “I hoped that the experience would give the athletes a chance to interact with people they really look up to and admire,” Allie explains.
For Emily, these workshops were one of the best parts of the experience. “It has been fun to watch the participants get really excited. I think that excitement became the whole reason I wanted to do this.”

There are various names by which reference is made to the Lord Jesus Christ. These names give us insight into different aspects of the Lord’s atoning mission. Take, for example, the title “Savior.” We all have a sense of what it means to be saved because each of us has been saved at some time from something. As children, my sister and I were playing in a river in a small boat when we unwisely left the safe area of play and found ourselves being propelled by the current to unknown perils downstream. In response to our cries, our father ran to the rescue, saving us from the dangers of the river. When I think of saving, I think of that experience.

Our recent Gong family reunion included a fun talent show, complete with a dad jokes contest.
But this contest was unusual. On one team was Grandpa (me) and two of the grandchildren, ages 12 and 11. On the other team was an artificial intelligence (AI) program prompted by a cousin to tell dad jokes in the style of Gerrit W. Gong. Grandpa Gerrit Gong versus AI Gerrit Gong.
The grandchildren and I went first.
What do you call a dinosaur who crashes his car? Tyrannosaurus Wrecks.
AI Gerrit Gong was instructed—think like Gerrit W. Gong. Talk like him.
AI Gerrit Gong—“Here is a dad joke as if spoken by Gerrit W. Gong, embracing his warm, thoughtful, and uplifting style: Why did the humble tree make people smile? Because it was rooted in love and reached out with branches of kindness. Like that tree, we too can find strength in our roots and joy in extending kindness to others.”
Well, what do you think? That’s why they’re called dad jokes.

One Sunday my dad brought home copies of the Book of Mormon. I told my mom that we needed to give one to the family next door. The next day I gave our neighbors a Book of Mormon. I had a big smile on my face because I felt so good inside. I was happy to share the gospel with our friends and be a good example to my family. I also invited my neighbor friends to watch general conference with our family. I was so excited when three of them came!

I’m serving in the Venezuela Barcelona Mission, and I find that the articles in the Liahona (Spanish) help my companion and me teach investigators. For example, a young mother listening to the discussion on the restoration of the gospel bore testimony that President Gordon B. Hinckley is a prophet of God. She said this testimony came to her as she read a First Presidency Message by President Hinckley in the Liahona.
Sister Lenna Chirino,Venezuela Barcelona Mission

Not long ago I went to school early on my bike as usual, because I am a crossing guard (skolepatrulje) at my school in Copenhagen, Denmark. We have to start at 7:45 A.M., and at 8:00 we go to our class. This particular day I took off my equipment in the basement when we finished and was the first to enter my classroom.
One of the boys from my class tried to block my way, and I fell. He fell on top of me, and my bike keys, which I usually carry on a chain around my neck, fell off.
Unfortunately, I didn’t notice that they came off. A girl from my class found the keys, took them, and put them in another girl’s bag. But she forgot to tell me. When the teacher came in, everybody forgot everything about the incident.
School ended at noon that day because my German teacher was ill. When I went to my bike, I found out my keys were not around my neck. I emptied my bag, but no keys. I tried to think when I could have lost my keys but didn’t remember anything. I felt sick, and it seemed as if my brain stopped.
I had to go back and ask one of the teachers to let me call my dad. He came and took me and my locked bike home. He wasn’t very happy that I had lost my keys.
When I went to bed that night, I was wondering if I would ever find my keys again. I was very worried, because if I didn’t find them, I would have to walk to school, and a new key was very expensive for me. Suddenly the thought came to me that I always could pray to Heavenly Father because He could help me and He knew where the keys were.
I got up, fell on my knees, and asked Him to help me find my keys.
The next day in school my math teacher asked me why I was so silent. I told him I had lost my bike keys.
Right then the girl who took the keys suddenly remembered that she had picked them up, so she asked the girl next to her to look in one of the small pockets in her bag. My keys were there.
I know to some people losing a set of keys may not seem very important. But to me it was very important, and I also think it was important to Heavenly Father. I know we can always ask Him for help when we need it.

For the Negrido family, helping 13-year-old Yushin prepare for his mission is a family affair. We talked to the young man from Quezon City, and he recounted how his family helps him with the various aspects of mission preparation.
““I go biking at least once a week so if I am assigned to an area where missionaries ride bikes, I won’t have to adjust anymore. My parents also enrolled me in a basketball academy where my agility and strength will be developed, and I will learn teamwork and collaboration with my teammates. We are also a family of divers and mountaineers so we climb and swim, a survival skill that might come in handy since our country is composed of many islands.””

These sixty-seven words can be read in less than thirty seconds, and yet if they were followed, they would quickly transform our earth into God’s paradise. But we not only disobey these important laws; many people don’t even know what they are. One man once said to his friend, “I will give you five dollars if you can repeat any one of the Ten Commandments.” His friend accepted the challenge and proceeded to demonstrate his knowledge by saying, “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” His friend said, “Here’s the money. I didn’t think that you could do it.”

The second truth reemphasized in my missionary life is that the Lord communicates in a miraculous way his purposes to achieve. A new elder in Italy by the name of Gary D. Shaw, in following the promptings of the Spirit, discovered this reality. Elder Shaw had been in the mission field only two weeks when his senior companion became ill. The elders, as a consequence, had to remain in their apartment all day. Elder Shaw was moved by the Spirit and had a great desire to talk to someone about the gospel, so he picked up the phone book in which more than three million names were listed. He chose three. There was no response to the first call. To the second, a woman answered and informed Elder Shaw that she wasn’t at all interested, and to make matters worse, declared that she couldn’t understand his poor Italian and atrocious mode of speech. On the third try, a man answered. Elder Shaw introduced himself and received a warm response. The man said his name was Mabiglia and that he would gladly receive the elders. This he did. The appointment, made so miraculously, turned into a spiritually uplifting and inspiring occasion. After the first lesson, Mr. Mabiglia said, “How wonderful! I’ve worked for two years in a bank located on the street where the missionaries have done street-board tracting. Again and again I have practically brushed them as I passed them on the street, but I was too shy to respond to them. Now, in this miraculous way, I have met you.” At this point we should change the “Mister” to “Brother,” for after receiving the lessons, the man contacted by telephone was baptized, and Brother Mabiglia is now serving in the presidency of the Naples Branch.

I leave you now, friends, with one final offering of glory. It involves a saintly sister and Brigham Young University (BYU) student who blessed me with words of gratitude from a place deep within. I repeat and reflect on her words often.
On the glorious Monday following general conference, I had the privilege of visiting Professor David Seely’s class on ancient Israel at BYU–Provo. After an opening prayer to help open our hearts to the heavenly, both above and within, we began class by sharing our thoughts on general conference and the nourishing gift it had been. After sharing some of my personal reflections on experiencing moments divine, our saintly Latter-day Saint sister responded with, “Thank you for reminding me of the beauty of my faith.” To this day, her words still echo within.
To you, dear sister, whose name is unknown to me, and to the entire Latter-day Saint community, let me also say thank you to you. Thank you for the beauty of your faith. Thank you for reminding me of the beauty of faith. Thank you for reminding and inspiring me to live and express my own faith more beautifully. Thank you for reminding me of the beautiful potential that faith can produce and blossom into. Your faith is truly a “light unto the nations” and a bright shining star in my heart.

Of course, some of the fun times they recall most revolve around their being triplets. At an early age, a favorite trick was to insist to Junior Sunday School teachers that all three of them were Dan. The next week they would all profess to be Dave and then Doug.

As a witness of the increasing faith of Manaus’s members, each year between 150 to 200 members in Manaus go on a multistake caravan to the temple in São Paulo, the most accessible temple in Brazil. Because of the dense forest that surrounds the city, the only way to travel from Manaus to São Paulo is by boat or plane. Plane tickets are very expensive, so eight years ago the stake presidencies in the city arranged a yearly temple caravan by chartering a boat and buses for those desiring to go to the temple. By sharing the costs, the members have enough money to travel to the temple with their families.
The caravan begins by traveling for four days by boat to Porto Velho, a Brazilian city near the border with Peru and Bolivia. From there, members board chartered buses to take them an additional three days and nights to São Paulo, where they stay in Church-owned apartments next to the São Paulo Brazil Temple. For four days they do temple work, then make the reverse journey homeward.

One day we were told they were going to have a youth conference in the Junior Sunday School room. The leaders asked if it could be fixed up a little special, so we really went to work. We washed all the windows and woodwork, scrubbed and polished the floor, and even sent the curtains out to be cleaned. Everything just sparkled. After the meeting was over I asked Ace if they were pleased. He said, “Well, one of the counselors in the bishopric asked if we couldn’t be a little more careful about dusting the chairs.” They had needed extra chairs for the large crowd, so someone had brought them from the construction area! We had a good laugh, realizing for the first time that it was not the things we did that were noticed but the things we didn’t do.

I fared much better at fast-pitch softball. My most memorable experience in softball was a thirteen-inning game I pitched in Salt Lake City on a hot Memorial Day. The game was scheduled for just seven innings, but the tied score could not be broken. In the last of the thirteenth, with two men out and a runner on third, the batter hit a high pop fly to left field. The catch was certain, I thought. And yet the ball fell through the hands of the left fielder. For thirty-eight years I have teased my friend who dropped the ball. I have promised myself I will never do so again. I’m not even going to mention his name. After all, he, too, remembers. It was only a game.

From that day my parents spoke of little else but plans for emigrating to America. My father went first, and about a year later he sent for my mother, my brother, and me. My mother was at first denied permission to leave Germany, because she had heart trouble, but she insisted my brother and I go; six months later she was permitted to join us.
Everything the missionary had predicted came to pass. My sister, who did not accept the gospel and who still lives in Germany, told us about the events there that transpired as the elder had prophesied.