Gospel Story Finder

Several years later a friend of mine, Cleiton Lima, was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He did not mention this to me even though we were good friends, but as time went by, I began to see changes in him. On Sundays I usually went to his house in the morning so we could play soccer, but I could never find him at home. This happened two or three Sundays in a row. Finally Cleiton told me that he could no longer play soccer on Sundays because he was honoring the Lord’s day. I told him, “This church is making you crazy.”

Then Cleiton invited me to attend church. I gave him an excuse because I was still disenchanted with religion. For 10 months, Cleiton brought over missionaries to teach me, but I always excused myself or told them I was too busy. But he never gave up.

One day in June, he invited me to attend a Church dance. I teased him, “Is there going to be free food and a lot of girls?” Laughing, he said yes!

I have to admit that I was defeated by my stomach. I visited the church and loved it. I was welcomed by everyone, I ate a lot, and I became interested in attending a meeting. When I arrived at church on Sunday, I met many people and heard their testimonies. I was not familiar with the Book of Mormon, but I felt the Spirit of the Lord when various Church members testified that they know the Book of Mormon is true, that this is the Church of Jesus Christ, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet called by God. I had never felt so good. I still did not want to meet with the missionaries, but that testimony meeting touched me.

The next week, Cleiton again invited me to go to church. I couldn’t because I had another obligation. I could see the sadness in his face when I told him I didn’t know if I could go.

However, on Sunday morning I awoke with a desire to go to church. I got up at 6:50, which was difficult for me, and I got ready and waited for Cleiton to walk by. He was surprised when he saw me dressed and waiting. That Sunday the bishop taught about the priesthood. I felt the Spirit strongly and had the impression that I should take the missionary lessons. By the end of the Aaronic Priesthood meeting, I knew that I was going to be baptized.

When church ended, I told Cleiton, “I want to be baptized!”

He thought I was joking. But then he said, “If I call the elders, will you meet with them?” I answered yes.

I was taught by great elders. When I heard the message of the Restoration, I had an even greater confirmation that I should be baptized. But I wanted to know for myself the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. The elders marked Moroni 10:3–5 in my Book of Mormon and invited me to pray and ask God if it is true.

The next evening I remembered that I had not yet read the Book of Mormon. As I began to read, I felt a very strong spirit. I prayed, and before I was finished, I knew that the Book of Mormon is true. I am grateful to God for having answered my prayer. I was baptized in July 2006.

I later served as a missionary in the Brazil Cuiabá Mission, and my friend Cleiton served in the Brazil Santa Maria Mission. We did what Cleiton did for me: invite people to come unto Christ and help them receive the restored gospel through exercising faith in Jesus Christ, repenting, being baptized, and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost. This truly is the way to salvation.

Let us always invite our friends and relatives to learn of this gospel, for the Savior invited everyone when He said, “Come unto me” (Matthew 11:28). I know that this is the Church of Jesus Christ and that now is the time to invite everyone to come unto Him.

My father-in-law crossed a strip of desert on horseback as a young man—sixty miles with no water. He planned to meet a wagon train midway to replenish his water, but they were delayed two days in starting and he met no one else. His tongue swelled up, his throat was parched, his dog died, and the horse keeled over. He thought he was going to die. He finally made it, but, in listening to the story, I can feel the intense, agonizing, thirsting desperation for moisture, just like a man held under water gasps for air.

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Matt: I don’t want to go back to school!
Mandy: I like school.
Matt: Be quiet!
Mandy: Mom, Matt told me to be quiet!
Matt: Tattletale!
Mandy: Mom!
Mom: Matt, did you say something unkind to your sister?
Matt: I don’t like school.
Mom: I guess at your age I didn’t like school much either.
Mandy: You didn’t? How come?
Mom: First, I think Matt has something to say to his sister.
Matt: I’m sorry I got mad at you, Mandy. I’m just grumpy because school’s starting.
Mom: Now come here, both of you. I’ll tell you about how I learned to enjoy school. Then we’ll see what we can do to help Matt feel better.
Matt: Thanks, Mom.

I saw his face again about 10 years later. This time he was an old man, excommunicated from the Church for nearly 20 years. In his youth, Paul had been a stalwart Saint and a civic leader. He helped build the local LDS chapel with his own hands and served in it as bishop for 10 years. Then later he deliberately stepped off the path, let go of the rod, and closed his eyes. He was blind, by his own account, as Isaiah chided, “We grope for the wall like the blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes: we stumble at noonday as in the night” (Isaiah 59:10).

I first heard of Paul from one of his close friends, a man who had also left the Church, but who had been loved and taught and had reached decisions that were bringing him back home. He told me that Paul had promised to come when he was rebaptized. When the day arrived, it was easy to pick out Paul as he slipped surreptitiously into the back of the room. He was neat and well groomed, acted with great reverence, and tried to be as inconspicuous and anonymous as possible. He sat right at the side, just inside the door, with his eyes fixed on the floor, his hands twisted together in his lap.

As the service progressed and the baptism was performed, with everyone’s attention fixed on that sacred ordinance, I stole a quick glance at Paul and was astonished to recognize him now so clearly. It was the same face I remembered, the same yearning and helplessness I had seen before, imprinted on my mind by a young boy in a crowded crush of uncaring humanity in Naples. Paul didn’t speak as he watched his friend go down into the water, but I’ve never heard a plea for mercy more clearly. I remember thinking as I looked at Paul, “What can I do?”

Well, the service ended, and Paul was out the door, sprinting for the exit. Could I once again watch him move off into the distance? I found myself bolting down the hallway behind him, calling his name. And he stopped to talk. Over the next year we became friends, and later, surrounded by friends new and old, and armed with a remembered testimony, he himself was rebaptized in a small, quiet ceremony in that same room. Today he travels three hours each way to the temple once a week, wondering how he could have been blind for so long, struggling to find the words to thank his Heavenly Father for allowing him to see once again.

Another little miracle occurred two months earlier, when Evonne received a strong impression that they needed to insure their property. This troubled David, as none of the 15 providers he had contacted would insure them. He prayed, “Heavenly Father, if we are meant to insure the house, please help me find an insurer.” The very next company he called agreed to insure the property for a portion of its value.

“Have any of you ever broken a bone?” Blake asked members of his priests quorum. He gave each person a chance to respond. Then he told the story about breaking his leg during the state high school cross-country championships and how his teammate Sean picked him up and carried him to the finish line.
“Just like Sean helped me to do something I couldn’t do for myself,” Blake explained, “the Savior has done something for each of us that we could not do for ourselves.”
Then he showed a video, “Mountains to Climb,” where President Henry B. Eyring of the First Presidency bears testimony of the Savior’s Atonement.

Here is an example of caring for those in need. One day a stake president in the Cúcuta stake in Colombia accompanied the stake Young Women president to visit two young women—and their older teenage brother—who were going through some terrible struggles. Recently their father had passed away, and their mother had passed away a year before. The three siblings were now left all alone in their small, humble shelter. The walls were made of crude wood lined with plastic bags, and the corrugated tin roof covered only the area where they slept.

Following their visit, these leaders knew they needed to help. Through the ward council, a plan to help them began to emerge. Ward and stake leaders—Relief Society, elders quorum, Young Men, Young Women—and many families all set themselves to the task of blessing this family.

The ward organizations contacted several ward members who work in construction. Some helped with design, others donated time and labor, others made meals, and still others donated needed materials.

When the little house was finished, it was a joyful day for those who helped and for the three young ward members. These orphaned children felt warm and reassuring bonds of their ward family to know that they are not alone and that God is always there for them. Those who reached out felt the love of the Savior for this family and acted as His hands in serving them.

Once there were two brothers, Hasty and Swigley, who lived near the sea. Hasty was a pleasant fellow but very poor. Swigley was cranky and stingy but very rich.
When a holiday feast day came Hasty had nothing to eat so he went to his brother’s house. “Please give me some food for me and my wife, Brother Swigley,” he said. “You have plenty and I will repay you in work when harvesttime comes.”
Swigley didn’t really want to give Hasty anything, but he was afraid the neighbors would scorn him if he didn’t, so he gave Hasty a piece of ham. “Take it and be off with you. When harvesttime comes I’ll expect a good day’s labor in payment,” he said ill-naturedly.
Hasty took the ham and started for home. Because he was anxious to get there he took a shortcut through the woods. As he hurried along, the woods began to look unfamiliar to him. Hasty finally decided he had lost his way. While he was deciding what he must do, Hasty heard the sound of a woodcutter’s axe in the distance. Following the sound of the chopping, he soon came upon a large house where an old man was cutting wood.
“Can you tell me the way to—” he began. But before Hasty could finish the sentence, the axe flew from the old man’s hand and would have cut the woodcutter’s leg had Hasty not jumped quickly and knocked it to the ground.
“You are a good man,” said the old woodcutter, “and you have saved me from being hurt. Now go into the house where there are those who will want your ham. Be sure to take nothing in exchange except the old mill that stands behind the door. Then come back and I’ll teach you how to use it. That mill can grind anything.”
Hasty thought this was strange but he did as the old man directed. Inside the house were several dwarfs. When they smelled the ham they began clamoring and asked Hasty what they could give him for it.
Hasty said, “I’ll take the old mill behind the door and nothing else.”
They offered several other things in exchange but Hasty refused. Finally the dwarfs agreed to the trade of the ham for the mill.
The old woodcutter smiled when he saw Hasty coming with the mill under his arm. Quickly he told Hasty how to start the mill and then how to stop it. Hasty thanked the old man and soon found himself on the right path for home.
When he reached home Hasty put the mill on the table. “Grind a good dinner,” he said. To his wife’s delight the mill began to turn and out came the best dinner she and Hasty had ever eaten.
After that Hasty had the mill grind many good things—food, clothing, silver, gold, and anything else he and his wife needed. They invited all their friends and neighbors to come and share their good fortune. Swigley was invited, too, but when he saw how much Hasty had to enjoy he was jealous and angry. “Where did you get so much wealth?” he demanded.
When Hasty explained about the mill, Swigley was determined to have it. He begged so hard that Hasty finally agreed to give it to him. However, before he did, Hasty and his wife had the mill grind enough good things to last them for several years. Then he took the mill to his brother.
Swigley could hardly wait to be alone with his new treasure. He was so anxious to use it that he didn’t listen when Hasty explained how to stop the mill. As soon as he was alone with the mill Swigley commanded, “Mill, grind out porridge! I am hungry for good porridge.”
At once the mill began to grind. First it ground a bowlful, then a tubful, a tableful, and soon the room was half full. Porridge was running out the door into the yard. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” cried Swigley, but the mill did not stop and the flood of porridge kept coming from the mill.
Finally, Swigley decided to go see his brother. He slogged through the porridge until he was outside and then ran to Hasty’s house. “Take the mill back,” he cried. “Take it quickly! If it grinds more porridge we’ll all soon be smothered in it! Take it back! I’ll give you anything you ask if you’ll only take it back!”
Hasty took the mill back, stopped the porridge flow in the way the old woodcutter had told him, and for a long time continued to use the mill to get the things they wanted. Soon he became a rich man, living in a fine home that shone with splendor near the seashore. Many who sailed by stopped to see the wonderful mill.
One day a skipper of a ship asked, “Can the mill grind salt? I have to travel a long way to fill my ship with a cargo of salt to sell. I’d like a mill that could grind out salt.”
“Of course it can grind salt,” Hasty answered.
“I’ll give you a thousand coins for it,” the skipper offered.
“No,” Hasty answered. “I don’t want to part with my wonderful mill.”
But the skipper kept begging until Hasty finally decided to sell it. The man hurried off with the mill, boarded his ship, and sailed for deep water.
When he stopped the ship he set the mill down and commanded, “Grind salt! Grind salt and grind it fast!”
Immediately the mill began to grind. And just as had been the case with Swigley and the porridge, it didn’t stop. The ship’s hull was soon full. Salt filled every crack and the skipper shouted, and begged, and whimpered, and cried for the mill to stop. However, the salt continued to pour out, piling up on the deck while the boat began sinking lower and lower into the water.
At last the boat sank completely out of sight and came to rest on the ocean floor. And there it is to this very day, endlessly grinding salt into the sea.

The time had come. I was finally in college! I thought I’d be able to handle anything that life had to offer.
I had just moved into my college dorm, and the excitement of the first few days had died down. I sat on my bed, contemplating my future. I wasn’t excited or happy, like I thought I should be. I was scared and homesick, even though my family wasn’t very far away.
Just then my roommate, Liz, called over to me.
“Tam,” she said, “can we talk?”
“Sure,” I replied.
“Have you ever felt like no one is there for you? Like you know God is there and everything, but you don’t feel him comforting you?”
I couldn’t believe it. Liz was feeling the exact same way I was. We discussed it for a few minutes and then decided to look in our scriptures for some comforting passages. Liz read from the Doctrine and Covenants:
“But behold, verily, verily, I say unto you that mine eyes are upon you. I am in your midst and ye cannot see me; But the day soon cometh that ye shall see me, and know that I am; for the veil of darkness shall soon be rent” (D&C 38:7–8).
Never before had I felt the Spirit so strongly. I knew at that moment that I was not alone. I knew that the Lord was aware of me, and that he was there for me. I knew that, although I was still unsure of my future, I wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Perhaps the hardest lesson I have had to learn is trusting Heavenly Father’s timing more than mine.
One day as I was reading the blessings He promised to me in my patriarchal blessing, I was overwhelmed with the idea that because of my OCD, the blessings described would be impossible for me. I was promised that I would feel peace, but how could I with so much anxiety?
How would I ever learn to love the temple when I always felt unworthy to attend?
I pled for God to remove my OCD from me. But as I did, a single thought came to my mind: “Would I continue to follow the Savior if He didn’t take my OCD away?”
The thought that Heavenly Father wouldn’t take my mental disorder away was devastating. In the days since, I’ve pondered that question a lot: “Will you follow me if not?”
I’ve learned that although OCD might always be present in my life, God will help me to handle its symptoms and continue to grow. My healing still includes crying, bouts of guilt and anxiety, therapy, and pleading on my knees.
But more and more, my healing involves reclaiming joy in my life, offering myself love and grace, and connecting with the Savior. As I turn to Him, He helps me have the strength to carry on. He is by my side as I weep. I have felt His presence more than ever as I plead for His help in dealing with OCD. I now understand how “he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people” (Alma 7:11). I am learning that He truly does know how I feel and will provide me with what I need as I keep moving forward.

I remember once, while on a break from high school, a friend and I decided to go hiking through the slot canyons in southern Utah. We drove for several hours to our destination and then hiked to a nice campsite by the river and spent the night.
When we got up in the morning, all my excitement for our hiking trip was gone. Instead, I had a feeling that we ought to return home. For more than two hours this feeling kept bothering me; then suddenly, it went away. I felt so relieved because, frankly, I was afraid to share my feelings with my friend. We’d spent so many hours driving and hiking to our campsite and planned to spend several more days hiking and camping. I was afraid of what my friend would think of me if I said, “I think we ought to go home.”
After lunch, my friend left the campsite to be alone for a few minutes. When he returned, he said, “I think we’d better go home.”
“I do, too,” I said. We cut our trip short and went home.
Today I still think about that experience. I didn’t listen to the Spirit—or at least I didn’t act on the promptings I felt—and the Spirit left me. I am grateful that my friend had the courage to listen and follow.

A few years ago, when Elder Merrill J. Bateman of the Presidency of the Seventy was in Japan, the missionaries introduced him to a young Japanese brother who had just joined the Church. He was from a non-Christian background. When he met the missionaries, he was interested in the message, but he could not understand or feel the need for a Savior, and he didn’t have a witness regarding the gospel. One day the missionaries decided to show him a film about the Atonement. The young man saw the film, but still he didn’t have a witness.

“The next morning he went to work. He worked in an optician’s shop making eyeglasses. … An elderly woman came in. He remembered her coming in a few weeks before. She had broken her glasses. She needed a new pair. When she had come in earlier, she didn’t have enough money and had gone away to save more in order to purchase the new glasses. As she came in that day, she again showed him her spectacles and showed him the money that she now had. He realized that she didn’t have enough yet. Then a thought came to him: I have some money. I don’t need to tell her. I can make up the difference. So he told her the money she had was adequate, took her glasses, [and] made an appointment for her to return when he had finished making the spectacles. …

“She returned later. He had the glasses ready for her. He handed them to her, and she put them on [and exclaimed] ‘… I see. I see.’ Then she began to cry. At that point, a burning sensation began to grow within his bosom and swelled within him. He said, ‘… I understand. I understand.’ He began to cry. Out the door he ran, looking for the missionaries. When he found them, he said, ‘I see! My eyes have been opened! I know that Jesus is the Son of God. I know the stone was rolled away from the tomb and on that glorious Easter morning He arose from the dead. He can make up the difference in my life when I fall short.’”2

As the months passed and the difficulties increased, apparently he came to feel by the Spirit that he would not live to see the Nauvoo Temple finished. In anticipation of that, he made several important decisions.
On May 4, 1842, he called to his side nine of the most faithful of his brethren—Hyrum Smith, Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, Willard Richards, Newell K. Whitney, and others—and later their wives came with them.
“If it should be the will of God that I might live,” he had said. Now, he continued and said in effect, “It is not the will of the Lord that I should live, and I must give you, here in this upper room, all those glorious plans and principles whereby men are entitled to the fulness of the priesthood.” He proceeded in an improvised and makeshift way to do so.
How did Joseph Smith know all these ordinances, and how were they transmitted to us today? The promise is recorded in section 124 of the Doctrine and Covenants, given in 1841, that the Lord would reveal to Joseph “all things pertaining to this house, and the priesthood thereof, and the place whereon it shall be built.” We have a further glimpse in the occasion already referred to—May 4, 1842—when a few faithful men received their endowments. We have from Brigham Young this testimony, that after they had received these glorious blessings the Prophet said: “Brother Brigham, this is not arranged right. But we have done the best we could under the circumstances in which we are placed, and I wish you to take this matter in hand and organize and systematize all these ceremonies.” Then, Brigham Young later said, “I did so. And each time I got something more [meaning that each time he worked on systematizing he had not only his memory and the records kept by Wilford Woodruff and others but also the light of revelation], so that when we went through the temple at Nauvoo [and without Joseph] I understood and knew how to place them there. We had our ceremonies pretty correct.”

Set tries to be kind to others, even though people aren’t always kind to him.
“There was a guy at school who had some health problems. Also, his glasses didn’t work very well, and he sometimes bumped into things. One day he fell down, and people made fun of him. I didn’t—I went and helped him up. Soon, he stopped coming to school. I saw him later at his birthday party, and he was in a wheelchair. I tried to help him have a good time at his party. He was my friend.”

One interesting tape of an elderly person tells of the day when the electric streetcar came to his town. It was a completely spontaneous response to a question the interviewer had asked about the first automobiles.
“A lot of people had come in on horses and buggies and wagons for the big day. We kids had run about a mile on foot so as not to miss it.
“We got a bigger surprise than we ever thought when that electricity sparked on the connectors and the car started. Some dignitaries were in the streetcar. The horses saw that car going, and they were scared to death. They had always seen streetcars pulled by horses. So now with that car going without horses, it was too much for their minds. They ran away with the wagons, and they stood up on their hind legs and almost turned the buggies over.”

Several years ago, I was invited to give an important lecture at a medical school in New York City. The night before the lecture, Sister Nelson and I were invited to dinner at the home of our host professor. There he proudly introduced us to an honor medical student—his beautiful daughter.

Some weeks later, that professor telephoned me in an obvious state of grief. I asked, “What is the matter?”

“Remember our daughter whom you met at our home?”

“Of course,” I replied. “I’ll never forget such a stunning young lady.”

Then her father sobbed and said, “Last night she was killed in an automobile accident!” Trying to gain composure, he continued: “She asked permission to go to a dance with a certain young man. I didn’t have a good feeling about it. I told her so and asked her not to go. She asked, ‘Why?’ I simply told her that I was uneasy. She had always been an obedient daughter, but she said that if I could not give her a good reason to decline, she wanted to go. And so she did. At the dance, alcoholic beverages were served. Her escort drank a bit—we don’t know how much. While returning home, he was driving too fast, missed a turn, and careened through a guardrail into a reservoir below. They were both submerged and taken to their death.”

As I shared my feeling of sadness, he concluded: “My grief is made worse because I had the distinct feeling that trouble lay ahead. Why couldn’t I have been more persuasive?”

A Thanksgiving story about the Laie Temple helps us see it.
After the temple was dedicated on Thanksgiving Day in 1919, Saints throughout the islands would plan Thanksgiving trips to the temple each year to commemorate its opening.
Saints on Molokai sacrificed much to save money to attend the temple. All year long they would sell vegetables and fruits and hold bake sales. One family went without electricity in their home to afford the trip to Oahu so they could be sealed in the temple.

My testimony recently got stronger when Heavenly Father answered one of my prayers. I asked Him if I could not be an only child anymore (my two older brothers had died as soon as they were born). Where I live, there aren’t many kids, and so I really wanted to have a sister or a brother. Two months ago, my mom had a baby! When I found out that I was going to have a little sister, I was very excited because I’d waited nine years. My mom and dad let me help pick the new baby’s name, and I chose to call her Anastasia. I know that praying is a good thing to do.
Alex Buchholz, age 9Spearfish, South Dakota

Over a year after his first meeting with the missionaries, with his parents in attendance to support him, Tyreece entered the waters of baptism and became a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He is currently preparing to serve a mission, but more importantly, Tyreece can confidently declare: “Even though I started this journey for someone else, my testimony of the gospel is now my own.”
Tyreece’s progress in the Church has not gone unnoticed. At the end of 2022, he was asked to speak at the Auckland Papatoetoe Stake conference, where he bore his testimony:
“I know this Church is true. I know that when your faith in Heavenly Father is strong, He will bless you and your family for all eternity. I know that when you follow Heavenly Father’s commandments, He will guide you and your family to the right path . . . I have seen it with my own eyes and through experience. Now I want to help guide families towards Heavenly Father, so they can be together forever for all eternity.”

Members of the Chico California Stake did so much to serve those affected by the fire. Every person who came to the stake center on evacuation day was housed within hours by other members of the stake. They brought us into their homes and helped us get the things that we needed. I was also amazed by the donations of every kind that we received from Saints all over the world. We’ve been blessed and supported, and we can feel their love. It’s so great to be a Latter-day Saint. I will shout that at the top of my lungs!