Gospel Story Finder

When a big storm called Hurricane Harvey hit Houston, Texas, USA, many people’s homes were flooded or destroyed. President M. Russell Ballard flew there to help!
As soon as his plane landed, he went straight to the command center where the Church collected supplies and sent out Helping Hands volunteers.
Then he visited neighborhoods where many homes were flooded. Some of the streets were blocked, so he walked from house to house. He listened to people and shared Heavenly Father’s love with them.
He met missionaries and other Church members who were helping.
He spoke in a devotional and three sacrament meetings so he could share Heavenly Father’s love with lots of people!
When he met an elderly man whose home was damaged, President Ballard said:
I’m one of the Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. … We want you to know we love you. And we’re here because Jesus Christ would want us to be here.
Ministering means serving and loving. Jesus Christ ministered to others, and so do His Apostles. How are the people below ministering?
How can you help someone today?

Duffie and Victor Hurtado’s friendship developed through their acquaintance in the choir, and they eventually married. Singing together in the choir is a “beautiful experience” although it does create some hardships on the family with both parents being away. However, the Hurtados have largely solved that problem as Victor’s mother, who, like Victor, joined the Church in Peru, lives with them. She cares for the two children when Victor and Duffie are rehearsing or performing with the choir.

Many years ago in Boise, Idaho, I attended a testimony meeting with Emily. We were young and newly married and I remember a somewhat shriveled old man, a revered and respected long-time member of the ward, got up to speak. He was hunched over the podium, but he spoke slowly and clearly. He said, “Brothers and sisters, when I was young I used to think I knew quite a bit. I thought that by the time I got to be the age I am now, I’d probably know pretty much everything. Well, now I’m old, and I feel like I know even less. But one thing I do know, more than I ever have, is that God loves us and we cannot be separated from that love.”

He sat down, and I remember feeling kind of strange. A little uneasy. Looking back now, I think it was the feeling of paradox. How could this old man who had seen so much claim to know so little? Wasn’t a benefit of growing old becoming more confident in your knowledge, more certain of everything? Nowadays, I am beginning to understand more what this old man meant. In the days of our probation, as we seek to answer life’s questions, often what we find on the other side of those answers are more questions. Some questions seem to have no answers. Some questions we get wrong when we’re sure we’re right. And sometimes other people are right when we’re sure they’re wrong. At times like this, when answers seem to be missing or beyond reach, it is worth remembering that life is not only a test, but a gift. And the most important thing about a gift is that it is given with love.

When I decided to go to the temple, it meant that I committed to following the Ten Commandments and the rules and regulations of the Church. But I also knew that I would get lot of blessings if I went to the temple. My goal in life is to return to live with Heavenly Father.
Nepali people can’t afford to go to the temple again and again, but with help from the Temple Patron Assistance Fund, I was able to go at least once.
I had to arrange time off of work and arrange things financially at home to be able to go. My wife is not a member of the Church, so she could not go. It was difficult for me to leave her alone at home.
Getting a passport was not a problem, but there were concerns about getting needed visas for travel. (No visa was needed to enter the Philippines, but depending on the route of travel and airlines, visas might be needed. The group ended up traveling through Malaysia. It was not the direct route, but no visa was needed.)
Getting an airline ticket proved difficult. The less expensive flights didn’t have enough seats available for our group of ten. But we finally made it to the temple.
When I saw the angel Moroni on the top of the temple, I felt peace, happiness and comfort. There were several housekeeping things we had to do before we entered the temple. We had to check into patron housing and go to the distribution center to buy garments. We had to eat meals and dress in our best clothes. At last we were ready to go inside the temple. I was so excited and felt more and more happiness as we did all we needed to do to be ready to go inside. Once there, we all changed into white clothing. I saw many people from different countries, but we were all dressed in white. I felt like I was I heaven. I felt so peaceful inside.
I want to go to the temple again.

Teri leaned close to the windowpane and blew on it. She watched the steam spread out on the glass in front of her face. Then she wiped the steam away and looked at the swirling snow outside the window. Snowflakes were falling everywhere. Teri could barely see the green tips of the evergreens peeking out of their white covering. Even the fence had a coating of snow.
Suddenly Teri saw two sparrows flutter down and land on the porch rail.
“Mother,” she called. “Come quickly. There are some sparrows on the porch. Can we throw a few bread crumbs to them?”
Mother walked across the room and stood next to Teri at the window. Together they watched as the birds flew from the rail onto the porch.
“Can we?” Teri asked again.
“We can do better than that,” Mother answered. “Today is a perfect day for bird pie.”
“Bird pie? May I help make it?” Teri asked excitedly.
“You certainly may, and you can begin by bringing me that wire basket I hung my flowers in last summer. We’ll hang our bird pie in a basket in the apple tree.”
Teri brought the basket and put it on the kitchen counter. “What does bird pie have in it?” she asked.
“Just three things,” Mother answered. “First all the bacon drippings I’ve been saving.”
Teri spooned the drippings into a big yellow bowl.
“Next we need enough flour to make a paste,” Mother said.
Teri stirred in the flour.
“And last we’ll add sunflower seeds,” Teri guessed, picking up the seeds that were lying on the counter.
“Right,” Mother smiled.
Mother held the basket while Teri spooned the bird pie into the wire container. Then Mother took the bird pie out into the yard and hung the basket in the apple tree.
Teri looked at the wire basket blowing gently back and forth on the limb of the apple tree.
“Do you think the birds will find our pie?” she asked Mother.
“I’m sure they will,” Mother answered. “Birds always seem to know when food is nearby.”
It was quiet while they waited and watched. Teri could hear the wind blowing around the house, picking up puffs of snow as it blew.
Then she saw a sparrow land on the branch above the pie. She held her breath. The bird bobbed along the branch closer and closer to the basket. Finally it fluttered into the air and landed on the basket.
Teri hugged her mother. “The sparrow found it!” she exclaimed. “He found our bird pie!”
Mother smiled. “Look again,” she said.
Teri looked out the window. Her eyes opened wide.
“One, two, three, four, five birds,” Teri counted. Then she smiled. “You were right. It is a perfect day for bird pie!”

I served in the Hungary Budapest Mission. When I returned home early, it was hard because all my companions were still out on their missions and I missed being a missionary. I also feared that other Church members would judge me, but fortunately, everyone treated me with love and understood my situation.
As time passed, I felt better. I read an article in the Liahona about early-returned missionaries that helped me feel better because I didn’t feel I was the only one anymore (see Destiny Yarbro, “Home Earlier Than Planned,” Liahona, Jan. 2018, 44–47). And I also took to heart what my aunt said: “Missionary work continues wherever we are.”
Lucas Ludwig Saito, São Paulo, Brazil

Young Eldon was blessed with a keen mind and insatiable hunger to learn. His schooling was interrupted by grain harvests and other farm work, but he managed to get through high school in Cardston and Raymond by helping in a butcher shop to pay for his board and through Calgary Normal School by working in a grocery store. On graduating from normal school, he was offered two jobs, one at Hill Spring and one at Rocky Ford, Alberta. Although the latter paid a higher salary, he chose the Hill Spring job because there was no LDS church at Rocky Ford. At 20 years of age he became a principal of a three-room school.

The students at Hill Spring had a reputation as rowdies, but Eldon was equal to the challenge. He was a firm disciplinarian, and he had the ability to make academic subjects fascinating. He also introduced boxing, wrestling, basketball, and other extracurricular activities; formed a Scout troop; and trained cadets. One young man later reported that President Tanner had been his schoolteacher, Scoutmaster, and cadet instructor as well as his boxing, wrestling, and basketball coach, all at the same time! His coaching produced several provincial wrestling championships.

I grew up in a very loving family, and my whole life was centered around the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was first assistant in the priests quorum, and I served a mission. Shortly after returning home from my mission, I was arrested for a very serious crime. I was sentenced to 15 years in prison and excommunicated from the Church. As I sit here thinking of the many mistakes I made in life, I am now getting my life back together. Each month I receive the New Era, and I learn from each article I read. I use them in my daily walk in life, and they help me and lift me in times of despair.
Name Withheld

One day in July 1989, I was sitting in my office in Tarawa, Kiribati, pondering my ministering responsibilities when a strong impression came to my mind telling me to go to the hospital. It was strange, but I knew the peaceful voice was from the Spirit. I decided to act upon the prompting without delay.
As I was preparing to leave, a former missionary companion, Founuku Kitiona, came by just as I needed him. I asked if he would accompany me to the hospital.
“Someone sick?” he asked. I told him, “I don’t know, I just had this strong feeling that we should go there.”
As we drove up to the hospital, fifteen minutes away, I didn’t know what to expect. It reminded me of the words of Nephi when the Lord told him to return to Jerusalem to obtain the brass plates, “And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do.”8
We arrived at the hospital and noticed a white van parked in front of the emergency room. It belonged to Elder and Sister Trethowan, a wonderful and faithful senior missionary couple from Australia. We wondered why it was there!
As we walked into the emergency room, we saw Elder Trethowan on a bed, half conscious and perspiring! His wife was kneeling on the floor beside him, praying.
They had been there for almost an hour waiting for assistance. She was desperate, but never gave up hope for heavenly intervention. You can imagine her relief, at least, when she saw us. “Thank you, brethren. God answered my prayers,” she said.
At that moment, I knew why the Lord sent us there. We laid our hands on Elder Trethowan’s head and gave him a priesthood blessing.
A moment later, several nurses and a doctor arrived. After examining him, the doctor told us that the missionary had a serious heart condition and needed to be admitted.
Knowing the limited medical facilities on the island, I immediately returned to my office and called the area office for advice. The immediate response was to get Elder Trethowan on the next flight out of the country. The problem was, there was only one international flight a week, and the flight for that week had already gone.
As I wrestled further with the issue, the Spirit whispered to my mind again to “go to the travel office.” I left immediately and got there just before the office closed.
I enquired about flights and was surprised to learn about a special flight leaving for Honolulu the very next day. I immediately booked the couple on that flight.
The next morning the couple left Tarawa and landed in Honolulu a few hours later. Elder Trethowan was taken directly to a hospital where he received medical procedures which miraculously saved his life.
A few years later, I was thrilled to see Brother Trethowan at the Sydney Australia Temple. He was in excellent health and he and his wife continued to serve the Lord there as temple ordinance workers. He told me that if he had not left the island on that flight, his mortal life would have ended there.

My family has made Christmas a memorable occasion for as long as I can remember. When I left for the Brazil Porto Alegre South Mission, I didn’t realize how hard it would be for me to spend Christmas away from them for the first time.
During my first Christmas in the mission field, I longed to be with my family, but my companion and I were alone. A sense of self-pity and sadness seized me.
On Christmas Eve, a dear family invited my companion and me to dinner. We had a nice evening, but this family’s happiness just reminded me that I was away from my own family. That night we went home, and I tried to sleep and forget that the next day was Christmas. For the first time in my life, I was relieved when Christmas was over.

The best opportunity I had defending the Church was when I became involved with the Junior Miss Pageant as a contestant for Capitol City’s Junior Miss. Many of the senior girls were trying out, and I decided to go for it, too.
Once I was picked as one of the 20 contestants, there were dances to learn, a short course on modeling, a talent number to prepare, and studying to do for a personal interview with the judges. It was great. Twenty girls from different schools learning together and having fun and not a Mormon except me in the bunch. Excitement began to mount as the pageant drew near. Our interviews were scheduled the afternoon of the pageant.
Finally, it was my turn, and I nervously walked up the long flight of stairs to the room where the five judges awaited. At first they just visited with me. Then an older, quiet man began asking questions about my religion—tough questions. It took me back for a moment. Then I got hold of myself and answered the best way I knew how. The words flowed freely, and I felt as if my eyes were relaying the message as well as my words. I knew I received lots of extra help from above that day. What I said must have satisfied the judges because that night number 10 was crowned Capitol City’s Junior Miss—I was number 10!
As friends and mom and dad crowded around and hugged me, my mind reflected back to the hateful feelings I had felt at first after reading “the call.” Now in my heart I thanked Heavenly Father for giving me the chance. I felt so happy—happy for wonderful friends who accepted me with all kinds of southern hospitality and for friends at home who kept reassuring and encouraging me with their love. I was happy for a wonderful family like my sisters who received calls from a bawling baby sister and always ended up making her laugh. Most of all I was happy for a dad and mom who stood by through it all and guided me with all their love.

“On fast Sunday, Íngrid is the first in our family to get up and bear her testimony in sacrament meeting, and she bears her testimony like an adult,” says her dad. “Sometimes she’ll ask me, ‘Are you going to bear your testimony today?’ I’ll usually tell her I’m not sure, because it’s hard for me to speak in public. And she’ll tease me by saying, ‘If you don’t, I’ll call you from the pulpit to come up and do it.’ I’ll say, ‘Don’t you dare!’ She smiles happily if I do go up.”

I was 19 years old when my older sister, Jan, was baptized. I was absorbed in my own thoughts as I sat uncomfortably on a folding chair waiting for the baptism to begin. My sister introduced me to the missionaries who had taught her the gospel, and they attempted conversation. But since I was naturally shy and had a lot on my mind that day, I wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Despite my resistance to conversation with the missionaries, when the opening hymn was sung, a warm feeling began to stir inside me. I paused to think about the prayers I had offered as a young child, prayers to Heavenly Father to help me find the true church.
After the opening prayer, a man spoke quietly, but with conviction, about Jesus Christ. Tears flowed down my face, and even though I was embarrassed, I felt warm and comfortable inside.
Jan looked radiant when she came out of the water. I was happy for her, so why was I crying?
When the meeting was over, one of the missionaries asked me, “What do you know about the Mormon Church?”
“Not much,” I said.
The other missionary asked, “Would you like to know more?”
Up until the beginning of the baptism, I hadn’t had any real desire to know more about the church my sister was joining. But now that feeling of peace and calm prompted me to answer the missionary’s question, “Yes, I would.”
Arrangements were made for me to hear the first discussion, and just a few weeks later, I felt those same warm feelings as I was baptized. Now, as long as I am worthy, I have that same peaceful feeling with me at all times—the feeling that comes from the Holy Ghost.

“There had to be more. All I had faith in was money, and that had nothing to do with happiness at all,” he said. That realization started his search for the truth. He thought it might be a good idea to thank Heavenly Father for all the blessings he’d been given, so he went to pray in the only nearby church he knew of—San Juan Capistrano, the famous Catholic Mission, built centuries ago. It seemed logical that the Lord would hear his prayers from such a place.

The Lord did. In response, he sent a messenger to Jack’s door. But it wasn’t the type in a suit, white shirt, and tie. It was Randy Smith, an insulation salesman and a recent convert with a lot of enthusiasm. He started talking to Jack about insulation, and somehow the subject got around to the gospel. It didn’t take Randy long to invite Jack out to the missionary prep class that his brother Tom taught.

“But I didn’t join right off,” Jack said. “I kind of sat back and doubted for a while, but I wish I hadn’t.” His Las Vegas excursion helped him appreciate the truths they were teaching him. “I looked around at the people there and thought ‘Lots of these people have money, but they’re still looking for something to make them happy,’” Jack said. Maybe he really could find what he was looking for in the Church.

He’d previously been attending Sunday School with a lackadaisical attitude, but now he decided to take the gospel seriously and learn some more. He began the missionary lessons and discovered that it would take the gospel to make him happy—happier than banking billions from bubble gum ever could. “Once the missionaries started teaching me, it only took about a month and a half before I was baptized,” he said.

Jack’s choices didn’t end when he joined the Church, though. Other decisions were in store. “I decided to go on a mission right after I decided to get serious about the gospel,” Jack said. “I thought, if it’s true, it’s all true, and of course you want to tell other people about it. It would be wrong not to go.”

But what about his business, and what about his car? “I sold the Corvette,” Jack says, with a surprising lack of remorse. “The insurance was costing me a fortune anyway.” The bubble gum business is still booming, however. His mother will manage it while he’s in the mission field, and the profits will help keep him afloat financially.

Jack feels he is well prepared for the mission field, but when his call came, he was stunned. He will be serving in the Japan Nagoya Mission. He was surprised that with his reading disability, he would be called to learn such a difficult language as Japanese.

“I was confident I would go to an English-speaking mission,” he said. “When I went to take the language aptitude test, I asked the girl who administered it which were the hardest languages, and she said both Chinese and Japanese were challenging. I thought, good—at least I won’t have to worry about them. Then when I got my mission call, I was surprised.”

But Jack doesn’t worry about the battle with the language. “When you’re doing the work of the Lord, he’s going to help you out. When I first got a Book of Mormon, I found it really hard to read, but since I started reading the scriptures, my reading has improved, and it’s the first time I can really see that improvement.”

Jack pulls out the scriptures, and reads, out loud, his favorite: Alma 32:28. It talks about the faith he needs to serve, and the faith the people need to receive his message: “Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when ye feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.”

As Jack reads that scripture, you notice that he reads clearly and precisely; he doesn’t stumble over a word.

Hey Jack—did you know you just read that scripture perfectly?

“I did? Wow, well thank you. I guess I’m getting a lot of help.”

The same Spirit that helped Jack choose to head home from Las Vegas is still helping him now. And it will continue to help him as he teaches the Japanese.

Editor’s note: Since this story was written, Elder Farley has completed training in the MTC. He is now serving in the Japan Nagoya Mission.

When I was in the 10th grade, I had a similar problem. I saw a group of people I thought were pretty interesting and decided I wanted to be friends with them. I began talking to them and spending time with them. I ignored the warnings of my friends and parents to stay away from this particular group.
Soon I began dressing like them, listening to the same music, going to the same places. Gradually my attitude began to change, my language became increasingly vulgar, and I made choices I would never have considered a few years earlier. I lost many of my old friends, my parents no longer trusted me, and I lost my good reputation. At the time, I pretended I was happy.
The time came when I realized I wasn’t happy at all. I had gained everything I thought was important and lost everything that really was: my family relationships, my true friends, my reputation, my self-respect, and my faith in God. I had choked on a chicken bone.
It has taken a long time to repair the damage done by that chicken bone. I still struggle with its influence at times. I realize now that my parents’ and friends’ warnings were given to me out of love. They weren’t trying to restrict me; they were trying to help me.

Counseling with my bishop. I came to appreciate my bishop’s guidance in helping me make a number of sound decisions. He checked on our family often and made sure I was all right and my family was well cared for. He was my support both temporally and spiritually.
One day the bishop called me into his office and discussed with me each of my children, one by one, to see how they were doing. We came up with a plan to make sure each of my boys received priesthood support through their quorum and auxiliary leaders. He also discussed my financial situation and made sure we had food in the house, and when Christmas came he checked again to be sure we had something to go under our tree.
Besides helping my children, he gave me priesthood blessings and helped me explore my new role as a single sister. What a comfort it was to know I had his backing.

The next step was to go to Ch’ungpoong to try to locate my father and brother. Ch’ungpoong is southwest of Jechon, in a secluded part of Korea. Many days later we took a country bus over dirt roads and rice fields to get there. When we arrived, we asked at the records office, but the officials had never heard of Kim Chin Ku. We also went to the school to check its records. The school had no record of the son, but we met a person there who knew of the family. He told us that they went by other names (not unusual for Koreans). We checked again and found a reference to a high school in Taegu, another city in southern Korea.
Back in Seoul, President Ch’oi consulted with some Church leaders in Taegu, and they were able to locate two addresses among the school records: one in Young Duk, where Kim Chin Ku had lived before his marriage to my mother, and one in Taegu. We decided to check them both. President Ch’oi’s son, who went with us, felt that we ought to go to Young Duk first. When we arrived at the village, we went to the police station. The men on duty knew of the family and offered to take us to meet them.
We rode into another secluded part of Korea through rice fields and mountains before we came to a little village at the foot of a canyon. We got out of the taxi, and Brother Ch’oi talked with one of the villagers. The man told us that Kim Chin Ku lived in the village and was working in the fields. The taxi driver offered to go find him and bring him back to us. As we waited, I felt panic. What if this man really was my father?
The taxi approached. In the back seat were two people—a little boy and an old man. We greeted each other. The elderly man was wrinkled and aged from the sun, but he had a sweet, sincere air. I felt confident that he was my father.
His real name was Kim Hong Suk, but he was also known as Kim Chin Ku. He invited us to his home. We walked up a dirt road and entered the yard, where an ox was tied to a tree. On the other side of his house was a barn. Inside the house, a straw mat was spread on the floor. We sat down, and this man—my father—sat next to me. He stared at me, and I at him. One by one, the villagers came to see us. We told him the story of our search, and he confirmed the account Mr. Ko had given.
Next we asked about the son—my brother. His name was Kim Do Yun, and he was attending a technical college in Taegu. My father indicated that he would telephone and arrange a time for us to meet. While he was telephoning, I asked the other family members if they had any family records. They brought out a huge published book of their lineage.
My father made arrangements for us to meet Kim Do Yun at a restaurant in Pohang that evening. When I met him, I had a sweet, peaceful feeling. I knew that this was the right family—my Korean family. My brother was very nervous. He trembled with emotion as we told him the story and showed him our papers. Up to now he had never known that the woman whom he had thought was his mother, was actually his stepmother. But after overcoming the initial shock, he seemed excited to be my big brother.

On a hot July day when Alma Elizabeth was ten years old, she went to a ward meeting. The people felt very discouraged because their crops needed rain. President Brigham Young came to the meeting, and she listened carefully when he rose to his feet and spoke. He promised the people that if they would listen to his words, the Lord would open the heavens and send the rains.
The words hardly left the prophet’s lips when Alma Elizabeth noticed the gathering clouds. Soon they filled the sky, and rain poured down in torrents. On that day she received a great testimony of the gospel that she remembered all her life.

At recess, I noticed that some of my friends were making fun of another girl named Chelsea. My friends were kicking her lunch box and smashing it. They called her names. I couldn’t believe that my friends were doing that. Later, I saw them doing it again, so I told them to stop it. Then I smiled at Chelsea, and we walked over to a bench and sat down. We talked and became good friends.
The other girls came back and started again. One girl said, “Let’s not be friends with Tambre anymore!” It made me so sad I started to cry. We all got called to the principal’s office to talk about the situation. The girls knew what they had done was wrong. After we got out of the office, the girls apologized to Chelsea and me. They all wrote us sorry notes. After that we all became friends!

For over 40 years, my great-grandfather, J. Hatten Carpenter, served as the recorder for the Manti Utah Temple. Each day he would walk from his home in Manti to the temple to fulfil his duties and responsibilities there. As the temple recorder, he was aware of sacred spiritual experiences that occurred in the temple.
One such experience he shared involved a patriarch watching vicarious baptisms being performed in the temple one day.
He recounts that the patriarch saw “the spirits of those for whom they were officiating in the font by proxy. There the spirits stood awaiting their turn, and, as the Recorder called out the name of a person to be baptized for, the patriarch noticed a pleasant smile come over the face of the spirit whose name had been called, and he would leave the group of fellow spirits and pass over to the side of the Recorder. There he would watch his own baptism performed by proxy, and then with a joyful countenance would pass away [to] make room for the next favored personage who was to enjoy the same privilege”1.
As time went on, the patriarch noticed that some of the spirits looked very sad. He realised that the people in the temple were finished with baptisms for the day. The unhappy spirits were those whose baptisms would not be performed that day.
My great-grandfather said, “‘I often think of this event … for I so often sit at the font, and call off the names for the ordinances to be performed which means so much to the dead.’”2