Gospel Story Finder

Tom’s family had exercised faith in the face of illness before and had seen miracles as a result. Tom’s younger brother Ailama was sick some years earlier. Their father, Elisala, had a dream in which he was given specific directions on what to do to care for Ailama: find a wili-wili tree, remove some bark, and pound out the juice. Elisala did this and brought the juice to Ailama, who drank it and soon recovered. So Tom had seen how acting in faith can help overcome sickness.
During the 1918 influenza epidemic, Tom exercised faith as he worked hard to care for the people of the village. “Every morning I went from house to house to feed and clean the people and to find out who had died,” he said.
He fetched buckets of water from a spring and brought water to every house. He climbed coconut trees, picked coconuts, husked them, and opened them to collect the juice to bring it to the sick. He also killed all of the chickens in the village to make soup for each family.
The 12-year-old Tom Fanene helped nurse his village to health during a pandemic.
Illustration by James Madsen
During this pandemic, around one-fourth of all of the people in Samoa died of influenza. Some of the people in Tom’s village died as well. Tom helped dig graves and bury more than 20 of them, including his own father, Elisala.
But thanks to Tom’s hard work and loving care, many people in his village survived. He made a big difference to those people and to the building up of the Lord’s kingdom in Samoa. He was “laying the foundation of a great work.”
And in your own way, so are you.
You may not be called upon to do the kinds of things Tom did, but you are, in fact, exercising faith in various ways that will make a great difference to you, to others, and to the work of building God’s kingdom.
You’re setting an example for your family, friends, and others by showing virtue, patience, kindness, and love. You’re serving others. You’re engaging in scripture study and prayer. You’re sharing the truths of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.
During this past year, many of you have even been doing these things while enduring the effects of a pandemic. Maybe you haven’t fetched water and coconuts and nursed 400 people back to health, but you have brought people comfort, hope, joy, and peace in many other ways.
Your age matters less than your faith and your willingness to work and serve others. Examples from the past, such as Tom Fanene’s, can help you see that you are needed in laying the foundation of God’s great work.

Soon after Angela told the missionaries about her feelings, she received the missionary discussions and was baptized. A few weeks later, Angela’s younger sister, Annette, was also baptized. Together, the two of them help each other learn more about the gospel and share it with the rest of their family and friends.

“Some of my friends are confused,” says Annette. “When they look at the Book of Mormon and see 1 Nephi, they say, ‘Oh, so this is Genesis for you?’ And I explain that Genesis is Genesis and Nephi is Nephi, and that I believe in both.”

Misunderstandings about the Book of Mormon aren’t the only challenges Angela and Annette face. Unfortunately, since the Church is still so small in the Bahamas, there are many misunderstandings about the Church’s beliefs and religious practices. In fact, because of the social pressure brought on by those misunderstandings, Annette wasn’t sure it was a good idea for her sister to join the Church. But Angela persuaded her sister to read the Book of Mormon and find out for herself.

“In the book of Mosiah, it talks about being a witness of God in all times and in all places. I like that,” says Annette. “Then it goes on to talk about desire, and I knew deep down inside that joining the Church was the desire of my heart. It was then that I knew I had to join the Church.”

Bernard Lewis, 16, received a few invitations from the Boston First Ward. The first was from the Young Men president, Rob Smith. Brother Smith, Bernard’s neighbor, saw him outside playing basketball one day and invited him and his brother to come play at the church—after they helped clean the chapel.
Bernard was happy to come, and when he got there the other young men immediately welcomed him. “They were like family to me. I really liked it there,” he says.
Brother Smith invited him to church, and as Bernard started to attend church, youth conference, and other activities, he decided to stay because it all made him feel so good. He says that during this time Jonathan was a good example to him. “I look up to him,” he says. “He’s like my big brother.”
Jonathan agrees. “We became really close. I call him my little brother now.”
And when Bernard’s mother allowed him to join the Church, Jonathan was able to baptize him.
Besides the invitation to come to church and be baptized, the young men in the ward also invited Bernard to read his scriptures. His testimony of the scriptures led him to join the Church, and he continues to study them regularly.
“The scriptures lead you to the right place,” Bernard testifies. “You need to read the scriptures to know what you believe in and ask the Lord if they are true. The scriptures are important. They are the word of the Lord.”

Last summer when I was going to school in Manchester, England, I had to ride the bus into town every day. Then I had to walk several blocks through the worst part of the city to get to my college. I remember that the most corrupt street of all was right next to my bus stop. The walls of the street shops were covered with obscenities, pornographic posters, graffiti, and vulgar swear words. There were several bars, where open doors sent out loud, suggestive music. People inside called out crude things to me as I walked. The first time I went into town for classes, I got off the bus and walked right down this street. About halfway down, I was so sick, offended, and afraid, that I didn’t think I could make it the rest of the way. I did, with my eyes shut as much as possible, but I decided at that moment that I would never walk down that street again.
Being far away from our home and family, I had plenty of things to worry about and more temptations than I could ever list. I certainly didn’t need to add this street to my worries. So, everyday when I got off the bus to go to school, I would walk an entire block out of my way to avoid that street. Sometimes on rainy mornings when I was late to an eight o’clock class I would want to forget what I had resolved and take the shorter route. But I knew I would feel sick inside if I let myself be exposed to unclean things.
Crossing that street to take the long way around every morning just became a habit. After a while, I didn’t even think of why I was doing it. Then one afternoon a friend of mine, Bob, offered to show me a new music store close to my bus stop. As we left the college together, I automatically crossed the street.
“What are you doing?” Bob asked.
Without thinking, I answered, “I can’t walk on that street.”
“Why not?” he laughed.
Suddenly I heard myself blurting out the whole story. I was far from home and didn’t want to return to my family with a lot of junk in my mind that didn’t belong there. I was uncomfortable on that street.
Bob was several years older than I and much more worldly-wise. I fully expected him to laugh again, and I felt foolish for even telling him about my feelings.
Waiting for his laughter, I looked up to find a very subdued expression on his face. After a few minutes of silence (very uncomfortable ones for me), he told me he wished he’d had a commitment like mine when he first came to school. “I wish I had crossed a few streets, Viv,” he said. “I’m ashamed to go home and see my family. I can’t look Mom in the face after some of the things I’ve seen and done.” We stood in silence for a few more minutes, but it was a comfortable one now. Then he took my arm, and we crossed the street together. We found our music store in no time at all, and had a chance for a wonderful conversation because of our roundabout route. He is now a friend I will always treasure.
I didn’t have to preach a sermon on moral and mental cleanliness. All I did was cross a street when there was something I wasn’t supposed to be exposed to on the other side. He didn’t sneer or criticize or think I was weird. By doing what I knew to be right, I actually earned his respect and friendship.

Can the Master touch others’ lives through you and me? Oh yes, he can, and he will if we will just do our part. A home teacher in Florida let the Savior’s touch be felt in this way. I quote excerpts from a letter to me dated July 8, 1980.
“When I joined the Church in 1973, my husband did not join. He didn’t want to come to meetings, and he wasn’t sure there was a God anyway.
“In 1975 our home teacher became my husband’s best friend. For more than three years he missed coming only once. My husband found in our home teacher someone to talk to. He unburdened his years of bitterness and unhappiness. He had never had a real friend before in his entire life.
“In August 1978, our home teacher told us he was moving. We were heartbroken. On his last visit, our home teacher, with my husband’s permission, talked about how one can gain a testimony.
“In November, Elder Ballard, you came to our stake and taught the gospel at a special fireside. My husband and I attended and at the conclusion of the meeting, you put your arm around my husband and the Lord spoke through you. You told my husband that our Heavenly Father loved him and wanted him to be baptized and that the Church needed him.
“That night my husband made a decision to be baptized. We called our former home teacher, now living in Louisiana, to see when he could come to baptize my husband. He came and baptized him. One year later he was with us and our family when we were sealed for time and eternity in the Washington Temple.
“Although you may not remember us—for we know you meet many people every year—our lives were touched in an unforgettable way. We are especially grateful to our faithful home teacher.”

When my dad passed away, the thing that helped me the most was my faith in Jesus. Before my family joined the church, we were Catholics. I didn’t like to go to church, but my mom was super faithful. After my dad passed away, I remember my mom saying she didn’t want to believe anymore.
My mom had a friend who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and he brought the missionaries into our home. We had lessons together and started going to church. I started to believe in Jesus and God and my faith started to grow. Even though my father had died, I had faith that we will someday see him again. We can live together in heaven because of Jesus Christ.

You may remember a story about a ship’s captain who had a problem with his pride. One night at sea, this captain saw what looked like the light of another ship heading toward him. He had his signalman blink to the other ship: “Change your course 10 degrees south.” The reply came back, “Change your course 10 degrees north.” The ship’s captain answered, “I am a captain. Change your course south.” To which the reply came, “Well, I am a seaman first class. Change your course north.” This so infuriated the captain, he signaled back, “I say change your course south. I am on a battleship!” To which the reply came back, “And I say change your course north. I am in a lighthouse” (adapted from Hope Health Letter [Kalamazoo, Mich.: Hope Health Institute], Oct. 1993, p. 1).

One Sunday the missionaries brought a family to church. They had a son my age, and my dad suggested that I go to church with him. They went to a different ward, so I stayed for three more hours to go to classes with him. And basically from then on, I went to two wards every Sunday.
I love church, so it’s pretty good to go for six hours. It’s easier when I can help someone else. When you don’t focus on yourself and you focus on someone else, it feels less tedious, more like service. Really focus on reaching out to the people around you. There are a lot of people who need your help who are never going to call out. And just being their friend can help them a lot. The more you reach out and serve others, the more you learn about yourself.
Benson O., 16, British Columbia, Canada.

At the finish line Paula Hurtado, 14, helped her special friend, Jamie, to hold the crepe paper ribbon across the road. Jamie has cerebral palsy, is retarded, and has always been confined to a wheelchair. She was unable to enter any of the races, but cheered her brother on to a gold medal.
“She is really special,” said Paula. “I think she is having a lot of fun. I brought her cookies last week. I was kind of scared, but this is fun,” she added.
The other end of the ribbon was held by Amber. Her three buddies for the day were Cindy Hunt, 12, Nicole Hardin, 17, and Jennifer Hurtado, 15. Amber, too, has cerebral palsy. Although she has no use of her limbs, she is learning to walk with a special walker which surrounds her. She understands those who talk to her, but cannot respond without the aid of a special communications board.
“She points to pictures on the board to talk to us. Sometimes we answer, but sometimes we point back to her board,” said Cindy Hunt.
Amber is so handicapped that she will never qualify to enter the real Special Olympics. But on this day she was helped into her walker and heard a hundred kids cheer as she made her way, alone, down the race track after the others had finished. It is the only race she will ever run, the only medal she will ever earn.

A few months ago, my beloved Ruth, Elder Holland and his sweet Patty, and I accompanied a group into the fascinating old city of Jerusalem to look for the door with the name of Hyde carved on it. The enchanting smells of the open containers of spices and the sounds of men selling their wares were exhilarating. As we entered St. Saviour’s Monastery, looking for the door, we entered into old passageways surrounded by stone walls. We were told that some parts of the walls went back to the time of the Crusaders. On one wall hung an assortment of ancient rusted keys. Some of these keys were huge. All were larger than the keys we use today. Many of them were very ornate. Many of the doors the keys were made to open no longer exist, or if they do, the keys and the locks would be too rusty to open them.

I didn’t do much schooling, so I couldn’t read or write well. The only thing I could do was write my name. A friend I worked with gave me a phone number and said I should call. I called and it was a lady who was a teacher at the high school. She invited me to a reading class. After a while, she invited me to church and activities.
I went to church one day and met the missionaries. They said they wanted to teach me the gospel. One thing that drew my attention was the plan of salvation. There was this emptiness inside of me because I always said to myself that there has to be more to life than what I was seeing.
I had questions. “Where did all of this start?” “Where did I come from?” The missionaries said to me, “You existed before this life. You lived with your Father in Heaven. You came here as a test to do what is required for you to go back to live with Him.” This answered my questions!
The missionaries also taught me that the gospel of Jesus Christ was restored. I didn’t know anything about that. The only thing I knew was that Jesus Christ died for me. After a month, I was baptized at age 25.

While we were at lunch, we sat with a man who is now a grandfather who said that his little four-year-old grandson came to him the other day and said, “Grandpa, why do the hummingbirds hum?” Grandpa said, “I don’t know. Why?” The little boy said, “Because they don’t know the words.”
It is unlikely that we will remember very many of the words that we’ve heard during the meetings of this conference. But I hope that we shall be able to “hum” the spirit of this conference and that we shall carry with us a great feeling of uplift because of our participation together. It has been a glorious time. The Spirit of the Lord has been with us. We have every reason to be grateful. We have been refreshed in our testimonies and strengthened in our faith.

We were living in a small town in Georgia, USA, when my father died at just 55 years old. Most of our family lived in another state. Never had the 2,000 miles (3,200 km) between us felt greater than at that time.
My husband was the bishop and I the organist of our small ward. With all the emotions and stress of helping with funeral plans, I was feeling especially weary that Sunday when it came time for our sacrament meeting closing hymn: “God Be with You Till We Meet Again” (Hymns, no. 152).
Halfway through the second verse, my grief overcame me. Somehow I played through the end of that verse, but my hands were shaking and my eyes so full of tears that I had to stop with an entire verse left. I couldn’t stop crying.
A brief pause followed as the congregation realized the organ had stopped. But then ward members started singing a cappella. The singing wasn’t perfect. We were few, after all. But the Spirit made up the difference. Through my tears and embarrassment, I could feel the love of many as they sang.
God be with you till we meet again;
Keep love’s banner floating o’er you;
Smite death’s threat’ning wave before you.
God be with you till we meet again.
When the hymn ended, the music leader held me as I sobbed through the closing prayer. Several people then came up to the organ with tears in their eyes to say how sorry they were about my father.
Later, I told the music leader I would be playing the piano at the funeral. It probably seemed like a bad idea after what had just happened, but my dad so enjoyed hearing me play the piano. I wanted to play for him. I realized then how close he had felt during the closing hymn.
I am so thankful for the hymns. I testify that music can teach and comfort us in ways that words often cannot. As the First Presidency wrote in the preface to the hymnbook, “Hymns … comfort the weary, console the mourning, and inspire us to endure to the end.” I am also thankful for the love of a good ward when I was so far away from my own family. I know that my father and I will indeed meet again.

For some, there will come the temptation to dishonor a personal standard of honesty. In a business law class at the university I attended, I remember that one particular classmate never prepared for the class discussions. I thought to myself, “How is he going to pass the final examination?”

I discovered the answer when he came to the classroom for the final examination, on a winter’s day, wearing on his bare feet only a pair of sandals. I was surprised and watched him as the class began. All of his books had been placed upon the floor. He slipped the sandals from his feet; and then, with toes that he had trained and had prepared with glycerine, he skillfully turned the pages of one of the books which he had placed on the floor, thereby viewing the answers to the examination questions.

He received one of the highest grades in that course on business law. But the day of reckoning came. Later, as he prepared to take his comprehensive examination, for the first time the dean of his particular discipline said, “This year I shall depart from tradition and shall conduct an oral, rather than a written, test.” Our favorite, trained-toe expert found that he had his foot in his mouth on that occasion and failed the examination.4

Tomorrow was Christmas!
Jacob helped Mom make sugar cookies. They made them in fun shapes. Stars. Candy canes. Snowmen. Christmas trees.
Mom made frosting. Jacob helped frost the cookies. Jacob and Mom put sprinkles on the frosting. Jacob was having fun.
But Jacob kept thinking. There were lots of presents under the Christmas tree. One of them was wrapped in red paper. It had Jacob’s name on it. He thought maybe it was a soccer ball. Jacob loved soccer.
Tomorrow was so far away. Jacob wiggled in his chair. He wanted Christmas now!
“Time for dinner,” Mom said. It was chicken noodle soup. That was Jacob’s favorite! But all through dinner Jacob wiggled. It was just too hard to wait for Christmas.
After dinner the family went to the living room. Jacob tried to sit still. But he kept wiggling. He wanted to open his presents.
Jacob’s family had a Christmas program. They sang “Silent Night.” Then Dad read about when Jesus was born.
Jacob stopped wiggling. He felt peaceful. He remembered that Christmas was about Jesus.
Mom prayed. Then Jacob hugged her.
“Jesus is the best part of Christmas!” he said.

I’m a Swedish reader of the New Era. It’s a super magazine, and I love to read every word of it. I got it from a friend in Provo, Utah, as a Christmas present, and now I can’t be without it for a single month. The Church has made me happier I’m feeling free. My life is much richer now. Even my mom says I’m always glad now and always help her when she needs help. Now I do my homework properly too. My English is getting much better now so I can write to my friends in Provo and read the New Era more easily! Right now I’m waiting for the August issue. I liked “There Is a Law” in the July issue. The message, “John and Mary, Beginning Life Together,” in the June issue has gone right into my heart, and I’ve read it over and over again! I’m still a nonmember, but I think I’ll soon be ready for baptism. May God bless you.
Marie JonssonSundbyberg, Sweden

Not long after receiving my blessing, I came home from Sunday School. Our lesson had been about Joseph Smith’s First Vision, and I was wondering if it was really true. My father was leaving for a Church meeting. I stopped him and asked, “Dad, how do we really know that Joseph Smith had that vision?” My father put his arm around me, and we sat on the sofa in our living room. There he shared with me the Prophet Joseph’s account, and my father bore his own testimony of its truthfulness. That experience with my father burns in my heart today. Since then I have never doubted the Prophet Joseph’s account of his First Vision.

After Todd and I got engaged, my mom suggested that we go to the temple a lot as a way to prepare for our marriage. Todd and I decided it was a good suggestion. Sometimes Todd performed baptisms with me, and sometimes he went to an endowment session while I participated in baptisms.

Todd and I were sometimes so busy we thought we wouldn’t have time to go to the temple. We had work and school and wedding preparations, but we wanted to go to the temple. Once we went to the temple instead of a football game that we had tickets to because we didn’t have any other time to go.

The blessings have been amazing. When I do baptisms for the dead, I learn how the Spirit speaks to me. Being able to forget worldly things and focus on the Savior has been really good. Todd and I haven’t had struggles or felt tempted because we’ve been going to the temple so often.

Sixteen-year-old Steven D. McKell of Salt Lake City, who was kidnapped at gunpoint but was able to free himself, received Scouting’s Medal of Merit for his bravery.
The FBI report of the incident reads:
“While alone at his home, Steven was confronted by a person who represented himself as a deliveryman. The man at the door had a truck-type dolly with a large cardboard box on it.
“The man indicated he had a document that Steven should sign as a receipt for the package. As the youth started to do this, the deliveryman pulled out a handgun, held it against Steven’s cheek, and forced him into the house.
“The man placed leg irons and handcuffs on Steven and forced him to lie on the floor. Steven’s mouth was then stuffed with a bandanna, and the bandanna was taped in place. Pads of cotton were placed over his eyes and taped closed. A nylon stocking was pulled over his head to keep the bandanna and pads in place.”
Steven was told to get inside the carton, which was then hauled out of the house on the dolly and lifted into the van, which was driven to a location about 10 minutes away.
The boy was led into an old rabbit hutch where boards were nailed over him. He was told by his captor not to try to escape since someone would be watching him.
“I didn’t believe him,” said Steven, “so when I heard him drive away, I began kicking my feet until I could get out of the frame. In my efforts to get free, I felt a nail against my nose and used that to pull the blindfold off.”
Steven was still gagged and cuffed hand and foot, but he could see and move. He made short jumps toward the road and attracted the attention of a jogger, who removed his gag and carried him over his shoulder to a nearby home. From there, Steven called his father, allowing enough time for the local police and the FBI to set a trap for the kidnapper, who was caught, convicted, and imprisoned.
Steven received the national Scouting office medal at a court of honor. He is a member of the Butler 12th Ward, Salt Lake Butler Stake.

Keslie B. loves a good story. When she’s not singing, swimming, or dancing ballet, she likes to read stories at her home in Brigham City, Utah. So when her grandma told her a story about an ancestor named Marie, Keslie wanted to go to the Family History Library to find out more.
Keslie was happy to learn how to do family history work and piece together the stories of some of her ancestors. But she won’t have to travel to Salt Lake City every time she wants to prepare an ancestor’s name for temple ordinances or do research—Keslie can do many things on her computer at home or at a nearby family history center. Now she can do family history work wherever she lives!
When Keslie walked into the library she saw a big painting called The Eternal Family through Christ. It shows Jesus Christ surrounded by prophets and people from different time periods. Everyone looks like one big family.
The service missionaries and library workers were happy to answer Keslie’s questions. There were so many neat things to see!
This big relationship chart was one of Keslie’s favorite things. She saw how many well-known people are related to each other.