Gospel Story Finder

She understood her role in the family organization. She was anxious to fill that which God had intended for her and had confidence and trust that I would fulfill the one designed for me. My responsibility was to be the provider and protector and builder of the home. Hers was to put beauty and love within its walls. When I married her, she was already an expert in her field. I still needed training in mine. During those early years, I am certain, she could have returned a much larger paycheck to the family than I was able to provide. However, when I came home one evening and announced that I had qualified for graduation from college, without even making it a matter of discussion, she marched in to her boss the following morning and resigned. Homemaking, to her, was the greatest of all occupations. Being a mother was the noblest of all calls. Her love and attention and concern for her children were so evident in our homes.

But hidden somewhere in his brain was that pudgy, chinless, slouching character waiting to make an appearance. David started thinking about cartooning again when a friend encouraged him to do a couple of cartoons and take them to BYU’s student newspaper. The publisher liked the cartoons and began running them twice a week. David was kept busy coming up with new ones.

Rebecca had to contend not only with her father’s disbelief but also with problems in her husband’s commitment to the faith. During 1837 and 1838, her husband, Frederick, then a member of the First Presidency, was repeatedly at odds with other Church leaders. He even left the Church for a time and was excommunicated. However, not long after, Frederick humbled himself, rejoined the Church, and died in full fellowship. We do not have a record of Rebecca’s feelings at the time, but she would not regret her allegiance with the Saints and remained committed.
When rumors of Frederick’s dissent reached Rebecca’s father in New York, Isaac hoped that Rebecca would renounce the faith as well. However, Rebecca sent him a letter that demonstrated her continued fidelity. After reading her response, Isaac slowly shook his head and said, “Not one word of repentance.”12

I’m from Nigeria, an English-speaking country, so when I was called to serve in the Benin Cotonou Mission and realized I would be speaking French, I became nervous. How was I going to teach the gospel? As I expected, I struggled to learn French while in the missionary training center in Ghana. Many times I felt almost hopeless.
Then, in my first area, I was asked to bear my testimony to the branch in French! Everyone sat in silence as I slowly walked to the pulpit. I reached into my pocket for the short testimony I had written down. But I could not find it! Fear gripped me instantly!
When I looked out at the beautiful faces before me, my eyes filled with tears. I had so much I wanted to share, but I didn’t know how to say it. I said the only thing I could in French: “I know that God lives.”
I sat back down and during the rest of the meeting, I prayed in my heart. I told Heavenly Father that I really wanted to speak French, and that if He would help me, I would serve Him with all my heart.
Three months later a new missionary couple from the United States visited the branch. They were also asked to bear their testimonies. The sister walked to the pulpit, said a few words in French, and then stopped. Tears fell down her face. The chapel was silent. I walked up to her and asked if I could interpret for her.
“Oh, that would be wonderful, Elder,” she said. I felt the Spirit as she spoke English, and I interpreted her testimony, word for word, in French.
After the meeting the branch president’s wife said to me, “I remember how long it took you to say, ‘I know that God lives’ when you first arrived. Yes, God really lives and He has touched your tongue.”
I know that God understands every language and every problem we face. He is there to help us if we put our trust in Him, and He blesses our efforts when we try. Because He answered my prayer, I have been able to teach the gospel in French and my life has been blessed.

It is claimed that the ice-cream cone was introduced at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis in 1904. This crispy concoction was an accidental invention of Ernest Hamwi, a Syrian immigrant, who was selling a waffle confection called zalabia at the fair. When a neighboring ice-cream stand ran out of dishes, Hamwi suggested using his waffles rolled into cones. The waffle cone with a dollop of ice cream delighted the fairgoers so much that people have been eating ice-cream cones ever since.

“Stay sweet and pure, and always let everyone know that the Church means a lot to you. If you do that, you won’t ever get into a situation where you have to make a decision with all the peer pressure weighing on you. Example: In high school, everyone knew that I didn’t want to drink or smoke, not at all, so I never got invited to a party where that sort of thing went on. My friends knew I didn’t do that. …
“If you let people know your standards, then people with your standards are attracted to you. I don’t mean you have to tell everyone, but actions speak loud.”

Two events in the past few months have touched me deeply. First, I spoke at the funeral for Emilie Parker, a precious six-year-old who lost her life along with 25 others, including 19 young children, in a tragic shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. I mourned with her family and recognized that many had been deprived of peace. I found strength and faith in her parents, Robert and Alissa Parker.

President Heber J. Grant described the Savior’s peace this way: “His peace will ease our suffering, bind up our broken hearts, blot out our hates, engender in our breasts a love of fellow men that will suffuse our souls with calm and happiness.”17 In my meetings with Emilie Parker’s parents, I saw that the Savior’s peace has eased their suffering and is helping to bind up their broken hearts. It is notable that immediately after the shooting, Brother Parker expressed forgiveness to the perpetrator. As President Grant said, the Savior’s peace can “blot out our hates.” Judgment is the Lord’s.

“What we wanted,” said President Michael Moulton of the Heber City Utah East Stake, “was some kind of meaningful project which would unite the youth of the stake for a few days of dedicated, all-consuming service.” Then he made it even tougher. “It should not only benefit the community, but teach our youth some basic skill.”
So should we have them construct log cabins, do plumbing, or lay brick? Or should we call in the Peace Corps?
The answer came when one of the leaders contacted Uinta National Forest officials, who suggested we organize a Touch America Project, which allows volunteers to learn about America’s natural resources by working under the direction of rangers on public lands. Ranger Roy H. Daniels said that to help with flood control, a rock wall needed to be built at Whiskey Springs picnic area in Daniels Canyon, before spring runoff began.
Youth leaders were called from each of the six wards in the stake. Footings were poured with donated concrete. Sand was hauled to the site, rocks were gathered, and soon portable mixers were stirring cement. With the help of a professional stone mason and a seminary teacher with previous cement experience, the youth began building the wall.
Work progressed over a number of successive Saturdays. The Forest Service was so pleased they asked us to extend the wall an extra hundred feet. Thanks to dry weather, the runoff was lower and later than usual, and we continued working through the end of May. On May 30 the final stones were laid, a cement cap was smoothed in place, and the project was completed.
I asked Kenneth Critchfield, of the Daniel Ward, how he felt about working on the project.
“I graduated from high school last night,” Ken said, looking a little bleary-eyed. “But I wouldn’t have slept in and missed this. I got here at 7:00 A.M. I just love the way this wall looks.”
If constructed professionally, the wall would have cost more than $15,000. Instead, it cost only time and labor. And it is now a monument to the youth of our stake. Imagine how they will feel when they bring their children here and tell them, “I helped build the wall.”

Delphine, a convert from Paris, France, has a difficult family situation, so when the missionaries taught her that families can live together in the celestial kingdom, she wasn’t sure she wanted that. As the missionaries continued to teach her about the three degrees of glory, however, she was comforted. She learned that she will get to be with those she loves who chose to follow the gospel. With a better understanding of the plan of salvation, she said, “I found it much more just, and that reassured me.”

A short while ago, Elder Pace, Elder Condie, and I met with the First Presidency. As we entered the room, President Hinckley looked carefully at us and then with a smile on his face said, “How can three white-headed old men be the Young Men presidency of this Church?” Our only response was, “Because you called us to be, President.”

In February 1986 Vice President George Bush shared this inspiring story at the national meetings of the Boy Scouts of America:
“Way back in 401 B.C., a young Persian prince named Cyrus hired an army of 10,000 Greek soldiers to help him take the Persian throne away from his brother. Cyrus and his Greek companions marched 1500 miles overland from the western edge of Turkey, through the deserts of Syria, and onto the plains of Iraq. They met the Persian king and the army near what is now Baghdad. The Greeks won the battle, but they lost the war when Cyrus was killed in the day’s action, and that left the Greeks and their army in a terrible fix. They no longer had any cause to proceed further; they couldn’t retreat eastward, for no food remained on the land, and to the north, mountains, which we know today as the wilds of Kurdistan, and the highlands of Georgia and Armenia were all inhabited by savage mountain tribes. And to make things worse, the Greek commanding general and his entire staff of officers had gone to a conference with the Persians under safe conduct, and they had been assassinated. And that seemed to leave absolutely no alternative to the Greeks but to surrender and throw themselves on the mercy of the Persians. Some of you will remember this. One of the Greeks, a private in the ranks named Xenephon, had a different idea, and he voiced it to his Greek comrades: ‘Notice that our enemies lacked the courage to fight us until they seized our general. They think that we are defeated because our officers are dead, but we’ll show them that they turned us all into generals. Instead of one general, they’ll have 10,000 generals against them.’ The Greeks’ spirits rallied and they resolved to fight their way through the mountains. Xenephon turned out to be a brilliant strategist and his army of 10,000 generals did reach safety, 2500 miles and four months later. Perhaps the most celebrated march of that time, celebrated escape, if you will, in western history” (comments at the 75th Anniversary Dinner of the Boy Scouts of America, 7 Feb. 1985, Washington, D.C.).

Some years ago Albert Peters told of the experience he and his companion had of a man being born again. One day they went to the hut of Atiati in the village of Sasina in Samoa. There they found an unshaven, unkempt, misshapen man lying on a bed. He asked them to come in and introduce themselves. He was pleased to know they were missionaries and wanted to hear their message. They presented the first discussion, bore witness to him, and then left. As they walked away, they discussed Atiati’s condition. He had had polio 22 years before that had left him without the use of his arms or legs, so how could he ever be baptized, being so completely disabled?
When they visited their new friend the next day, they were unprepared for the change in Atiati. He was bright and clean-shaven; even his bedding had been changed. “Today,” he said, “I begin to live again, because yesterday my prayers were answered and you [came] to me. … I have waited for more than twenty years for someone to come and tell me that they have the true gospel of Christ.”
For several weeks the two missionaries taught this sincere, intelligent man the principles of the gospel, and he received a strong witness of the truth and the need for baptism. He asked them to fast with him so that he would have the strength to go down into the water and be baptized. The nearest baptismal font was eight miles away. So they carried him to their car, drove him to the chapel, and set him on a bench. Their district leader opened the service by bearing a strong testimony about the sacred ordinance of baptism. Then Elder Peters and his companion picked up Atiati and carried him to the font. As they did so, Atiati said, “Please, put me down.” They hesitated, and he said again, “Put me down.”
As they stood in some confusion, Atiati smiled and exclaimed: “This is the most important event in my life. I know without a doubt in my mind that this is the only way to eternal salvation. I will not be carried to my salvation!” So they lowered Atiati to the ground. After a huge effort, he managed to pull himself up. The man who had lain 20 years without moving was now standing. Slowly, one shaky step at a time, Atiati went down the steps and into the water, where the astonished missionary took him by the hand and baptized him. He then asked to be carried from the font to the chapel, where he was confirmed a member of the Church.
Atiati continued to progress so that he gained the ability to walk only by a cane. He told Elder Peters that he knew that he would be able to walk on the morning of his baptism. He said, “Since faith can move a stubborn mountain, I had no doubt in my mind that it would mend these limbs of mine.” I believe we can say that Atiati was truly born again!

On a Sesame Street program one day, Cookie Monster won a quiz show. He was given his choice among three possible prizes: a $200,000 dream home next month; a $20,000 new car next week; or … a cookie, right now. As you might expect, he chose the cookie.

“I received a call from Grandpa one day. He was very excited about being honored by the First Presidency for seventeen years of his broadcasts, Sunday Evening from Temple Square.“
The son-in-law went on to explain: “We always listened on Sunday night to Grandpa’s broadcast, and then the children would get together and phone and tell him they’d heard him.”

Now here is something serious to contemplate. Nose bleeds can result if you strain your brain too hard. Please be careful. Before I finished my first try I thought, “I’m not a moron; I just can’t see it. I’m not omniscient, after all.”
Then the words of Mosiah 9:17 came to my mind, “Yea, in the strength of the Lord did we go forth to battle against the Lamanites; for I and my people did cry mightily to the Lord that he would deliver us out of the hands of our enemies, for we were awakened to a remembrance of the deliverance of our fathers.” Wow! Strength and deliverance. Everything I needed was in the scriptures.

The Peppermint Race The fourth graders were selling peppermint candy to raise money for books for their new library. Tony wanted to sell the most and win the shiny red guitar. He bought, ate, and sold a lot of peppermint candy, but Veronica, who also wanted the shiny red guitar, sold more. … Dian Curtis Regan7–9 years

Poinsettia & Her Family Poinsettia loves her home, but she thinks that seven brothers and sisters are too many for it. On moving day she stayed at her old home so that she could have it all to herself. An easy-to-read book.Felicia Bond6–8 years

Every time I have the opportunity to direct myself to young people, I have a difficult time to keep from weeping. You see, once I had a boy, and when he had spent one year in college, he went to war. I like to think he went bravely.
When he was interrogated by the sergeant in charge, the sergeant said, “There are these schools.” And he named them—“radio, cooking, foreign language, intelligence, hospital. …” He named about eight of them. The young men were told that they could go to one of these, if they wanted to choose, before they went further into the army. He said, “You can go to one of these schools, or you can take combat.” And my son and one other young man with him said without any hesitation, “We’ll take combat.”
Later I said to him, “Why did you ask for combat?”
And he said, “Someone has to do the fighting.” He said that he did not want to have it on his conscience that he had deliberately dodged so that some other boy might have to take a chance on being killed. He said, “If anyone has to die in this war, I would feel terrible if I didn’t take my share of the risk.”
To me he is still twenty—about your age. And so perhaps you will allow me to speak to you as though I were speaking to him. The advice I would give you, I would give him.

Many years ago I boarded a plane in San Francisco en route to Los Angeles. As I sat down, the seat next to mine was empty. Soon, however, there occupied that seat a most lovely young lady. As the plane became airborne, I noticed that she was reading a book. As one is wont to do, I glanced at the title: A Marvelous Work and a Wonder. I mustered up my courage and said to her, “Excuse me. You must be a Mormon.”
She replied, “Oh, no. Why do you ask?”
I said, “Well, you’re reading a book written by LeGrand Richards, a very prominent leader of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
She responded, “Is that right? A friend gave this book to me, but I don’t know much about it. However, it has aroused my curiosity.”
I wondered silently, Should I be forward and say more about the Church? The words of the Apostle Peter crossed my mind: “Be ready always to give an answer to every [one] that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you.” I decided that now was the time for me to share my testimony with her. I told her that it had been my privilege years before to assist Elder Richards in printing that book. I mentioned the great missionary spirit of this man and told her of the many thousands of people who had embraced the truth after reading that which he had prepared. Then it was my privilege, during the remainder of the flight, to answer her questions relative to the Church—intelligent questions which came from the heart, which I perceived was a heart seeking truth. I asked if I might have an opportunity to have the missionaries call upon her. I asked if she would like to attend one of our wards in San Francisco, where she lived. Her answers were affirmative. She gave me her name—Yvonne Ramirez—and indicated that she was a flight attendant on her way to an assignment.
Upon returning home I wrote to the mission president and the stake president, advising them of my conversation and that I had written to her and sent along some suggested reading. Incidentally, young men, I recommended that rather than sending two elders to this pretty off-duty flight attendant and her pretty roommate, two lady missionaries be assigned to call.
Several months passed by. Then I received a telephone call from the stake president, who asked, “Brother Monson, do you remember sitting next to a flight attendant on a trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles earlier this fall?” I answered affirmatively. He continued, “I thought you would like to know that Yvonne Ramirez has just become the most recently baptized and confirmed member of the Church. She would like to speak with you.”
A sweet voice came on the line: “Brother Monson, thank you for sharing with me your testimony. I am the happiest person in all the world.”
As tears filled my eyes and gratitude to God enlarged my soul, I thanked her and commended her on her search for truth and, having found it, her decision to enter those waters which cleanse and purify and provide entrance to eternal life.
I sat silently for a few minutes after replacing the telephone receiver. The words of our Savior coursed through my mind: “And whoso receiveth you, there I will be also, for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”

James: Cristi has this Christlike ability to see the good in others. She has a deep testimony of her Savior and a great desire to do missionary work.

Cristi: I remember trying to bargain with the Lord. For a while, it was like, “Come on, heal me. I want to gather Israel!” I tried to boss God around, but it didn’t work. Then I thought, “OK, my name, Cristi, means ‘follower of Christ.’ While I’m still here, I want to bring as many souls to Christ as I can.

James: And that led to another prompting.

Cristi: I started doing a social media message each day, a little message of hope and love. I called it “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive.” People started hearing about it. My sister-in-law was an atheist, but she said, “Will you start sending me your messages?” Over time she became a believer, and now she’s a member of the Church. And my brother started reading the messages. They helped him to find faith again. Now he’s active in the Church.

James: I was traveling a lot for work, going to small towns in Texas and Georgia. Cristi often went with me. We’d meet people we wanted to stay in touch with, and she would say, “Can I send you one of my messages? Then you can decide if you want to keep receiving them.”

Cristi: The number of people who wanted my messages kept growing. Now there are about 200. Some are Church members; some are not. For a long time, I sent out a thought every day, but now that’s getting harder and harder. I think the messages will be like a little history. When I’m gone, my family and friends will still have my witness about what I know is true.