Gospel Story Finder

The next stop was in Trinidad and Tobago, where both sisters comforted families in their homes and also trained the leaders of that country.

Devrani Barrios, a Church member from Trinidad and Tobago, remarked: “It was good, I enjoyed it. Their sense of humor and their interactions with the kids was amazing. The prayer they left with my family is unforgettable.”

Taramatie Kotiah, another sister from Trinidad manifested: “I truly enjoyed the home visits. The sisters were very friendly with us all, as if we knew each other. They have such a welcoming spirit. They taught me what ministering truly is.”

While serving as a mission president, I came home once to general conference. It’s always very dangerous for a mission president to leave his mission—I don’t recommend that. While I was away, four of my missionaries had decided that a sister was too good for her husband, and they had counseled her to divorce him and leave him. That’s right. A missionary, you see, is called to preach the gospel by the Spirit, and he has great responsibility with respect to nonmembers. But when it comes to membership in the Church, we have branch presidents and bishops who are called, ordained, and set apart by the Lord to give this kind of direction and guidance. I would even be concerned about a bishop who would counsel a wife to leave her husband. I transferred those missionaries, got them as far from this situation as I could as quickly as I could. Then it took a month before I was able to get the husband and wife back together again! It worked out all right. They are still corresponding with me even now, so I think it’s going to work out pretty well. But when we get out of our areas of assignment, we get into trouble. It makes no difference who you are.

There’s a great story told to me by the father of the young woman who was involved in it. I promised I’d share it with women across the Church when it was appropriate.
A three-year-old had wandered off on an adventure, shedding his clothing as he went. When he realized he was lost as well as cold, he knocked at the home of this young woman. She saw a little boy standing on the step; he was wearing only soiled underwear and was crying his heart out. She took him in, and while they waited for the police to find his mother, she wrapped him in a blanket and held him on her lap and sang songs to him. She made him clown faces on home-dipped ice cream cones and drew pictures with him so he could surprise his mother. She made him feel marvelous.
When at last the boy’s mother arrived, he started for the front door. Then suddenly he stopped, maybe remembering what a special time he had had with the young woman.
“Hey!” he asked, “Are you Heavenly Father’s wife?”
The young woman was startled—and sobered. At last she replied, “No, but I am his daughter.”

Akoni is 12 years old. He lives in New Mexico, USA, in the Navajo Nation. This is an area of the United States governed by the Navajo people. More than 250,000 people live there.
When Akoni was younger, he watched his older siblings go to Young Women and Young Men.
He also saw how happy they were when they went to the temple. Akoni was excited to visit the temple too.
Akoni prepared for Young Men by going to church and talking with his family.
He asked questions about the temple so he would be ready to go inside.
“I was nervous to go to the temple for the first time,” says Akoni. “But when I’m in the temple, I feel safe.”
The closest temple to Akoni is the Albuquerque New Mexico Temple. It is a four-hour drive away. Akoni is excited that soon a new temple will be built closer.
Akoni hopes to serve a mission one day, just like his older siblings.
He has started sharing the gospel by inviting his friend to church. He wants to be an example to his younger brother and others too!

Michelle and Julie were getting worried. Their adventure had begun just as they’d planned—leave campus right after Julie’s last class and take turns driving her sports car home where they would surprise Michelle’s brother on his birthday. But now it was 1:00 A.M. and they were stranded in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire. Few cars were passing (and who knew how safe they would be if someone did stop), and to top it off, they couldn’t figure out how to work their jack.

Michelle prayed, but they still couldn’t get the jack to work. Soon after, however, a truck pulled alongside and the girls held their breath as the man inside asked, “Need some help?”

Both girls started at once, “Yes, we do! Our jack won’t work and we have a flat tire.” The man didn’t reply but backed his truck behind them, his headlights lighting up the offending tire.

“The tire was awfully hot. Have we been driving too fast?” asked Julie.

“Can you figure out how to use this jack?” Michelle inquired.

The man was dressed in jeans, old cowboy boots, and a western shirt. He seemed unhappy and a bit gruff. “Probably a farmer from near here,” thought Michelle. He put a hand on the flat tire, then removed it quickly because it was still hot. He nodded in response to their questions, then walked around the little car touching the other tires.

“When a tire gets soft, it gets hot. The other tires are okay, though, so if you have a spare, you’ll soon be on your way,” he told them.

The girls had the spare out already. Michelle handed him the jack. “We can’t figure out how this thing works; it’s supposed to be the newest thing.”

The man illuminated the jack in the headlights, puzzled with it for a moment, then abruptly put it down and headed for his own truck.

“I’ll get my jack,” he called.

The two girls chattered in relief as he put his jack under the car and started to jack it up. They talked about school, how they were going to surprise Michelle’s brother, and how much farther they had to drive. The man grunted occasionally, listening but not saying much.

After they quieted down, they asked him where he was going so late at night. He grinned, “You know, I almost didn’t stop to help you because I’ve got to drive another 200 miles tonight to pick up five Boy Scouts and their driver. Their car broke down on their way to our campout.”

Finally the job was done; the man tightened the nuts on the spare tire and stood up, brushing his hands. “There, you’re all set.”

Both girls thanked him repeatedly. The man was silent, hesitated a moment, and then drew a deep breath. Finally he spoke: “If a pair of Mormon missionaries knock on your door someday, would you listen to them for me?”

Michelle squealed. “Are you a Mormon, too? So am I!”

“Well, I guess now I know what made me stop. God bless you and have a good trip.” He shook their hands, got in the truck, and was soon gone.

“I’ll drive,” said Julie as she headed for the driver’s seat.

“Fine,” said Michelle. As she got in on her side, she took a deep breath, then slowly began: “Julie, have you ever wanted to know anything about the Mormon church?”

As a 17-year-old teenager in Arizona, USA, Kathy R. often had to explain to members of her extended family certain things that as a Latter-day Saint she did—or did not do.
“I remember talking with my aunt one time,” Kathy says. “She said, ‘Your church doesn’t let you smoke or drink, right?’ I told her that the Church teaches that drinking and smoking are not good but that Heavenly Father allows me the freedom to choose, and knowing what I know, I choose not to smoke or drink.”
Kathy says that in her case this was a better reply than saying, “Smoking and drinking are against my standards,” although sometimes that might be a perfectly appropriate response.
“My aunt thinks churches force people to be obedient, so when I explained that we have agency, she was really interested in what I had to say,” Kathy says. “When I explained I had set personal goals for myself not to smoke or drink, she was willing to support me.”

Years ago, in search of adventure, my two sons and I accompanied a Young Men group to the Moaning Cavern, so named for a sound that at one time echoed out of its mouth. The cavern is a chimney cave which opens into a 180-foot-deep (55 m) vertical chamber, the largest single-cave chamber in California.
There are only two ways down: the safe circular staircase or rappelling to the cavern’s floor; my sons and I chose to rappel. My older son went first, while my younger son and I purposely went last so that we would descend together.
After our guides instructed and secured us with harness and belay gear to a strong rope, we inched backward until we stood on a small ledge and gathered our confidence, as this was the last place to turn around and the last place we could see any sunlight from the mouth of the cave.
Our next step backwards plunged us into a cathedral cavern so tall and wide that it could swallow the Statue of Liberty. There we dangled in a slow spin as our eyes adjusted to the relative darkness. As we continued our descent, the glow of electric lights illuminated an amazing wall of glistening stalagmites and stalactites.
Without warning, the lights suddenly went completely out. Suspended above the abyss, we were engulfed in a darkness so profound that we could not even see our hands on the ropes in front of us. A voice instantly called out, “Dad, Dad, are you there?”
“I’m here, Son; I’m right here,” I responded.
The unexpected loss of light was designed to show that without electricity, the darkness of the cavern was impenetrable. It succeeded; we “felt” the darkness. When the lights did return, the darkness instantly surrendered, as darkness must always surrender, to even the faintest light. My sons and I have been left with a memory of a darkness we had never known, a greater appreciation for light we will never forget, and the assurance that we are never all alone in the dark.

“I had been given the assignment to give a family home evening lesson, and as I was thumbing through the manual looking for a lesson, I noticed that there was one special lesson for husbands and wives only. I decided that next Monday would be a special family night for Mom and Dad. My sister and I fixed them a candlelight dinner, and then we quietly went downstairs for our own family night while leaving the manual with Mom and Dad with a bookmark in the appropriate spot.”

“By the time I was 12,” says Taiana, “my desire for a temple marriage became more and more firm. It was more than just an objective I had to achieve. I wanted to become a person worthy to marry in the temple. So I worked toward it, especially through Personal Progress. And there were lots of people helping me—my parents, my Young Women leaders—and many Church activities to help keep me on track.”

Tururarii, on the other hand, has not been a member for most of his life. He joined the Church at the age of 25. “But having received the gospel,” says Tururarii, “and learning more and more about the blessings, I immediately set a goal to be married in the temple.”

Tururarii and Taiana met during choir rehearsals for an Easter concert fireside put on by the Church. They performed with the choir, became better acquainted, and began dating. But it was at a young single adult conference on a neighboring island that they decided they should be married. When they returned from the conference, they talked to their bishops and began making plans to be married in the Papeete Tahiti Temple.

Tururarii explains the closeness that working toward a temple marriage brought into their lives: “Since I joined the Church, it has always been my goal and my desire to be married in the temple. Then when I met Taiana, it became our goal and our desire, together.”

One day Julie Ann Christensen, 12, of Arcadia, California, went to visit her friend Lori Bontempo who had just moved across the street. The Bontempo family were sitting around the kitchen table talking about different religions, so Julie told them about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When everyone began to question her about the doctrines of the Church, Julie recited the Articles of Faith and explained something about each one. Everyone was amazed that such a young girl knew so much.
Julie later took them a copy of the Book of Mormon, and she explained that the missionaries would be glad to come and tell them more about the Church. On February 9, 1974, Paul, Carol, Lori, David, and their father and mother were baptized.
“Julie seemed to radiate something beautiful when she was talking to us about the Church,” Mr. Bontempo said. “She really has a special spirit about her.”

He was deeply concerned about the well-being of others and praised the good he saw around him. He trusted others and encouraged them to strive to be disciples of Christ. Addressing a “stir in the Church” involving a young woman who had emigrated from England and was living in the home of Heber and Vilate Kimball, Joseph wrote a letter to Vilate. With grace and understanding, the Prophet encouraged Vilate: “I do not desire that you should turn the young woman out of doors; far be it from me to advise any such course. I think it would be well for her to remain with you … because I think that your advice may be a blessing to her, and your counsel and advice such as will tend to her future welfare and happiness.”8 Joseph trusted Vilate; she had chosen faith and continued in her belief that Joseph Smith was a prophet.9 Joseph’s trust in Vilate paid dividends as Vilate’s influence and counsel helped the young woman weather the storm and commit to her faith.

Once when Enrique López, 16, of Caracas, and four of his friends had a free period during school, they went to a friend’s house. “Someone took out some beer. I didn’t think they would try to get me to drink, because they all know about my religion—but they did. I said, ‘No, I don’t drink that stuff.’ They started criticizing me and saying there was nothing wrong with drinking and a little bit wouldn’t hurt. But even a little bit does hurt you in the end. I said no. After a while they said, ‘Oh, this is a waste of time.’ So they stopped, and we went back to class. I think they respected me.”

Many years ago I attended a stake conference in Star Valley, Wyoming, where the stake presidency was reorganized. The stake president who was being released, E. Francis Winters, had served faithfully for the lengthy term of 23 years. Though modest by nature and circumstance, he had been a perpetual pillar of strength to everyone in the valley. On the day of the stake conference, the building was filled to overflowing. Each heart seemed to be saying a silent thank-you to this noble leader who had given so unselfishly of his life for the benefit of others.

As I stood to speak, I was prompted to do something I had not done before, nor have I done so since. I stated how long Francis Winters had presided in the stake; then I asked all whom he had blessed or confirmed as children to stand and remain standing. Then I asked all those persons whom President Winters had ordained, set apart, personally counseled, or blessed to please stand. The outcome was electrifying. Every person in the audience rose to his or her feet. Tears flowed freely—tears which communicated better than could words the gratitude of tender hearts. I turned to President and Sister Winters and said, “We are witnesses today of the prompting of the Spirit. This vast throng reflects not only individual feelings but also the gratitude of God for a life well lived.” No person who was in the congregation that day will forget how he or she felt when we witnessed the language of the Spirit of the Lord.

I once investigated an airplane accident where a young lieutenant was trying to practice the basic fighter maneuver called a pop-up attack. The plan called for him to approach the target at low level and high speed, acquire the target, then pull up abruptly, and, at the appropriate altitude, roll over and attack the target at a 20-degree dive angle—for more effective weapons effects. This particular lieutenant tunneled his vision solely on the target, not paying attention to anything else, and suddenly he found himself in the clouds. But if you’re in the clouds and your only reference is the ground, then you’ve lost the ability to effectively continue the attack.

Instead of discontinuing the attack and executing the appropriate escape maneuver as he’d been trained, the young pilot thought, “Well, I remember where the target is, so I’m going to keep going.” Because he’d had no real reference, he’d flown too high. So when he rolled over, he exited the clouds at a steep 45-degree angle and was flying much too fast to avoid hitting the ground. Realizing his mistake, he immediately pulled the ejection handle, just prior to the airplane impacting the ground. Because he failed to perform a single basic maneuver, he lost a valuable combat aircraft and came within about a half second of losing his life.

Andrei and Valentina Dudka of the Vynohradars’kyi Ward were introduced to the gospel by neighbors in 2003. After meeting for several weeks with missionaries, the couple decided to join the Church.
Although the Dudkas were excited to learn gospel truths such as the need for latter-day temples and the potential of having an eternal family, they gradually slipped into inactivity. “We just found reasons not to go to church,” Sister Dudka says. “We let things come up—like we were just too tired or there was a show on TV we wanted to watch.”
The Dudkas’ lack of activity adversely affected their happiness. “We started to see a real difference between Church life and worldly life after we left the Church,” Brother Dudka says. “We weren’t happy.”
After about four months of not attending church, Sister Dudka reached her breaking point. “A certain Sunday came, and I said, ‘If I don’t go today, I might not survive,’” she says. “I was like a person who had gone days without water. I needed that water.”
After returning to activity, Sister Dudka patiently prayed for and encouraged her husband to come back to church with her. About half a year after she returned to church, so did her husband.
“My wife’s prayers affected me,” Brother Dudka says. “I realized that as a Melchizedek Priesthood holder, I had the responsibility to be an active member. I recognized that without God, I could not do anything.”
After the Dudkas returned to the Church, their thoughts returned to the saving ordinances of the temple. The couple joined with other Ukrainian Latter-day Saints in rejoicing in the temple groundbreaking in 2007.
“After they started building the temple, we would often come by and just look at the work being done,” Brother Dudka says.
“I jumped so high when I saw them lay the first stone,” Sister Dudka adds.
When the angel Moroni figure was placed on top of the temple, there was a lot of hugging and tears among the Saints and particularly among the Dudkas.
“When they finally finished building the temple, there was such relief that we knew we were worthy to enter,” Brother Dudka says.
The Dudkas say being sealed in the temple has built in them a stronger eternal perspective on life. “You understand that your family is no longer just you and your husband—now the Lord is part of it too,” Sister Dudka says. “We now look at each other with eternal eyes.”

I was studying speech pathology at Mississippi University for Women five years ago. During the year I had looked for a church I could believe in. I had not found one.
One day some friends and I discussed the destination of the spirit after death. Theories were suggested. I had heard one thing about Mormons: they believed in three heavens, and they all went to one of them. As I laughingly related this knowledge a girl spoke up, “That isn’t exactly true.” Attention was directed to her, and I asked, “How do you know?” (I was surprised someone had spoken with conviction.) She answered, “I’m a Mormon.”
For a month I visited my new friend’s home and listened to the flannelboard discussions. The first vision of the Prophet Joseph was a little difficult to accept; also, I had a question about the day of the Sabbath. But the absolutely logical account of the apostasy and the restoration could not be disputed as far as I was concerned.
Still, I held back until one Sunday night after sacrament meeting when the missionaries suggested I be baptized at 9:00 A.M. the next day! The suggestion was made in front of several members. They were smiling encouragingly and I said, after a moment’s thought, “All right.” (How could I refuse with so many people caring?)
Having made the decision, I informed the Lord that Sunday night of my plans. I asked him to give me some indication that I was making the right move. Nevertheless, I told him if I received nothing, I would still be baptized.
Very quietly, instantly, definitely, two scriptures came to my mind: “Ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you” (Acts 1:8), and “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another” (John 13:35). I was satisfied and slept peacefully.
That Monday morning as I was brought from the water, I felt as if I had been on a long, wearisome journey and had at last come home. My own conviction of the authenticity of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has grown since that time. Now I add my testimony to those of faithful Saints throughout the world.

Once a young boy was trying to smooth out the dirt area behind his house so he could play there with his toy cars. There was a large rock blocking his work. The boy pushed and pulled with all his might. But no matter how hard he tried, the rock wouldn’t budge.
His father watched for a while. Then he came to his son and said, “You need to use all your strength to move a rock this large.”
The boy answered, “I have used all my strength!”
His father corrected him: “No, you haven’t. You haven’t had my help yet!”
They then bent down together and moved the rock easily.

September Roses, by Jeanette Winter. Based on a true story, this book tells about two sisters stranded in New York in the aftermath of September 11. The women, who are flying with thousands of roses for a flower show, land right after the Twin Towers are hit. A stranger offers them a place to stay. Wanting to repay this kindness, they take their flowers to Union Square and arrange them in the shape of the fallen towers.

That is how a legacy of testimony is created, preserved, and transmitted in a family. It isn’t easy, but ordinary people have done it. Like many of you, I had such ancestors. One was my great-grandfather John Bennion. We cannot duplicate what he did because the world has changed, but we can learn from it.

He was a convert to the Church from Wales. He, his wife, and his children came into the Salt Lake Valley in one of the early companies of pioneers. We know something of his life because after that time he kept a journal, making a short entry nearly every day. We have the journals from 1855 to 1877. They were published in one bound volume because his descendants hoped to transmit that legacy of testimony. My mother was one of them. Her last labor before she died was to transform the daybooks in which he’d written into a manuscript for publication.

His short entries don’t have much preaching in them. He doesn’t testify that he knew Brigham Young was a prophet. He just records having answered “yes” every time the prophet called him on a mission from “over Jordan” to the Muddy mission, then on to a mission back to Wales. He also answered “yes” to the call to ride into the canyons to track Johnston’s army and the call to take his family south when the army invaded the valley. There is even a family legend that the reason he died so close to the day when Brigham Young was buried was to follow the prophet one more time.

The fact that he wrote every day makes clear to me that he knew his ordinary life was historic because it was part of the building of Zion in the latter days. The few entries which record his testimony seem to appear when death took a child. His testimony is to me more powerful because he offered it when his soul was tried.

Here is his record of one of those times. His daughter Elizabeth died in his arms. He reported her burial and the location of her grave in a few lines. But then the next day, November 4, 1863, this is the entire entry:

“Wednesday. Repairing up the stable my little children pratling around me but I miss my dear Lizzy. I pray the Lord to help me to indure faithfull to his cause to the end of my days, that I may be worthy to receive my children back into the family circle, who have fallen asleep in Christ in the days of their innocence Ann, Moroni, Esther Ellen & Elizabeth, blessed & happy are they because of the atonement of Jesus Christ.”

All the elements are there. He taught the truth. He testified that it was true. He lived consistent with his testimony and prayed that he might endure faithful until he could be united with his dear family. I feel his love and a desire to be included in that circle.

On February 29, 1828, a baby girl was born in Petersham, Massachusetts. She was the seventh child of David and Diadama Woodward. Named Emmeline, the child soon showed a talent for writing and a desire to learn, so her parents enrolled her in grammar school. Even after Emmeline’s father died, her mother made sure that Emmeline attended school. Later Diadama remarried, and the family moved to nearby New Salem. This move benefited Emmeline greatly. There her mother was able to raise the money needed for tuition to send Emmeline to a good private school, the New Salem Academy.
While Emmeline was away at school, an elder from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came to New Salem and converted several people. Among them were Emmeline’s mother, her two younger sisters, and a half brother. When Emmeline returned home from school, her mother encouraged her to join the Church too. Despite the objections of Emmeline’s friends and her older brothers and sisters, she was baptized in the Old Morse Creek on March 1, 1842.
After finishing school, Emmeline began teaching in Orange, Massachusetts, for $1.50 a week. However, her teaching career was soon cut short. Fearing that her daughter, standing alone, might not be able to withstand the persecutions against the Church, Diadama arranged a quick marriage in July 1843 between Emmeline and James Harris, a son of the local branch president. The youngsters were both fifteen years old at the time.
In April 1844 Emmeline left Massachusetts with her husband and his family for Nauvoo, Illinois. Upon their arrival in Nauvoo, Emmeline had the privilege of meeting and shaking the hand of the Prophet Joseph Smith, who was cruelly martyred just a few months later.
Times were hard for the Saints, and James’s parents wanted to leave the Church. They entreated their son and his pregnant wife to join them, but the young couple refused. Emmeline and James’s child, a son, was born in September 1844, but he died several weeks later. After losing their child, James left to find work and never returned.
Grieving and alone at the age of sixteen, Emmeline decided to remain in Nauvoo and teach school. She became acquainted with Bishop Newel Whitney, and on February 14, 1845, they were married. In 1848, Emmeline traveled with Newel and his family to Salt Lake City, Utah. Within two weeks of their arrival in the Valley, Emmeline gave birth to a girl.
After living in Salt Lake Valley for two years, Newel died. Once again Emmeline was left alone, and again she turned to teaching. She taught sixty-five children in a log house without desks, blackboard, or books.
Emmeline’s teaching career ended in October 1852 when she married Daniel H. Wells, a prominent Church leader, who later served as a counselor to Brigham Young for twenty years. Daniel and Emmeline had three daughters, and Emmeline was a devoted wife and mother. Secure in her marriage, Emmeline was able to use many of her talents, especially her writing. She wrote letters and poems to friends and relatives. Writing had become for her a “solace in times of trouble and sorrow, something to turn to for relief, and in a way a pasttime.”
Emmeline’s talent for writing soon led her to contribute to the Woman’s Exponent. Later she became its assistant editor and then editor in 1877. She served as an editor for almost forty years. This nationally recognized publication was the second woman’s magazine to be created in the United States and the first one in the West.
While editor of the Woman’s Exponent, Emmeline felt that its major purpose was to educate women about all subjects and to encourage them to be active in public affairs, particularly politics. Women were encouraged to write their thoughts down and to submit them to the magazine.
Through her work Emmeline became known to the national leaders of the suffrage movement. In Utah she was elected vice president of the Women’s Suffrage Association. Emmeline became a personal friend of Susan B. Anthony and corresponded with her regularly. She attended several conventions in Washington, D.C., and met several presidents of the United States, never passing up an opportunity to speak out for women’s right to vote. In an interview with the associated press in Washington, D.C., she said, “For one, I am proud of Utah’s record in dealing with her female citizens. I look forward with eager hope to the day when woman suffrage shall become universal.”
President Brigham Young also knew the power of the written word and the importance of women in the Church. In September 1876 he met with Emmeline in his office and said to her: “I want to give you a mission, and it is to save grain. … I want the sisters to save the grain and I want. … you to begin by writing the strongest editorial that you can possibly write upon this subject.”
In 1876 Emmeline’s first editorial encouraging all women to save wheat appeared in the Woman’s Exponent. A central grain committee was established with Emmeline as chairman. Money was raised to buy wheat, fields were gleaned, and wheat was saved. Children helped the sisters too. During the first year of the program over 10,000 bushels of grain were saved! In subsequent years the wheat was given to the poor as well as to people in southern Utah who suffered from a drought. Flour was sent to San Francisco after the earthquake and fire in 1906, and a year later China received help from the Church during a famine. During World War I, the Relief Society sold more than one hundred thousand bushels of wheat to the United States government.
Emmeline wrote several songs, including “Our Mountain Home So Dear.” In 1896 she published a book of her poems entitled Musings and Memories. She also wrote for the Deseret News, Juvenile Instructor, Millennial Star, and national newspapers and magazines. Emmeline founded two literary societies in Utah.
No matter what Emmeline was doing in her life she always felt that she was serving the Church. At the age of eighty-two Emmeline was called to be the fifth general president of the Relief Society. She served faithfully in that capacity for eleven years. In 1921, three weeks after her release as president, Emmeline died. For the first time in Utah, flags were flown at half-staff to honor a woman—Emmeline B. Wells.