Gospel Story Finder

Carlos Santíz, president of the Mazatenango Guatemala Stake, refers to notes made on a whiteboard during a meeting with bishops, explaining how they followed the direction of Church leaders to meet in council and plan to serve the needs of less-active members. “I’m grateful to the Lord for putting me in this stake presidency because it is a challenge—but a challenge I needed—and it has brought growth,” he says.

Members of the Paris stake, where Cécile has served as stake Young Women president and as ward Primary and Relief Society president, have become more and more involved in the project. In 1988 and 1990, members of the stake ordered batik Christmas greeting cards—miniature pieces of art—from the young girls at the training center in Pilkana, thus giving them paid work. Some of Cécile’s friends are also buying scarves, kerchiefs, and hangings with the splendid batik patterns created in Pilkana.
Children in the Paris stake Primary give away their own toys and games to the Bengali children. And Paris youth exchange letters with children in the ashram.

In the late 1850s many converts from Europe were struggling to reach the Great Salt Lake Valley. Many were so poor that they had to walk, pushing their meager belongings in handcarts.
Archer Walters, an English convert who was with one such company, recorded in his diary under July 2, 1856, this sentence: “Brother Parker’s little boy, age six, was lost, and the father went back to hunt him.”
The boy, Arthur, was next to the youngest of four children of Robert and Ann Parker. Three days earlier the company had hurriedly made camp in the face of a sudden thunderstorm. It was then that Arthur was missed. His parents had thought that he was playing along the way with the other children. Finally someone remembered that when they had stopped earlier in the day, the little boy had been seen settling down to rest under the shade of some brush.
For two days the company remained where they were, and all the men searched for him. Then on July 2, with no alternative, the company was ordered west.
Robert Parker, as the diary records, went back alone to search once more for his little son. As he was leaving camp, his wife pinned a bright shawl about his shoulders, with words such as these: “If you find him dead, wrap him in the shawl to bury him. If you find him alive, use this as a flag to signal us.”
With their three other little children, she took the handcart and struggled along with the company. At sundown on July 5 the Parker family saw a figure approaching from the east. Then, in the rays of the setting sun, they saw the glimmer of the bright red shawl! The mother’s prayers were answered.
On July 5 Archer Walters recorded: “Brother Parker came into camp with a little boy that had been lost. Great joy through the camp. The mother’s joy I cannot describe.”
We do not know all the details. A nameless woodsman had come upon the little boy and had cared for him until his father found him.
So here a story, commonplace in its day, ends—except for a question. How would you feel toward the woodsman had he saved your brother or your friend? Would there be an end to your gratitude?

Now I am eight years old. I love to read the Book of Mormon and the Friend magazine. I prepared to be baptized by reading about the baptismal covenant in the magazine. The day I got baptized was the best day of my life!

That’s a topic Bart and Annette Heiner like to discuss, too. After all, they met in school.
—Annette describes herself as an “outdoorsy person,” a tomboy who was happy riding dirt bikes but not comfortable in the kitchen. It didn’t bother her at all to be the only girl in a welding class.
“When I first came here, my intentions were to graduate from Ricks, go on to Utah State University and graduate as a welding engineer, then to work.”
Bart grew up on a farm in Star Valley, Wyoming.
“I was always interested in industrial arts, particularly welding,” he said. He was also “kind of shy,” and only asked Annette for a date after prodding by an instructor who had them both in his class.
A friendship developed. Bart and Annette enjoyed doing things together.
“Then,” Annette said, “one time on the way home he started naming all these talents he wanted his wife to have—sewing, cooking, playing the piano—all these abilities I didn’t have. I said, Well, that’s it. I’ll never see him again. But by the time we got home, I’d forgotten about it, and we kept on dating.”
Soon they were married in the Idaho Falls Temple, and just recently their first child, Zachary, was born.
“Since then, I’ve discovered something,” Annette admits. “With a baby, every day you’re learning. I still enjoy outdoorsy things, and I still enjoy welding. But now I can hardly wait to graduate, so I can stay home and take care of our son.”
As students discovering a lot of things about welding, Bart and Annette made another major discovery—each other.
“And we learned there is something more important than anything else we want to be,” Bart said. “We want to be an eternal family.”

Each week Lianter Albert, Jr., teaches the Blazers in Primary in Morgan City. Check that; he teaches the Blazer. Lianter’s younger brother, Benjamin, is the only boy in his class.

“I like teaching my brother. It’s great. The best part is, if I miss anything in my lesson, I can grab him at home and say, ‘Look, I forgot to tell you this.’ It makes it really convenient,” says Lianter, a freshman at the University of Southwestern Louisiana in Lafayette. “I could go to a ward near the college, but the branch needs my help here on Sundays.”

I am very thankful for the New Era. It has helped me in so many ways. I am especially grateful for the article “Safe from the Storm” (Apr. 2004). It helped me realize that going to the temple wasn’t just something I was expected to do. I realized that I really do want to go and feel that security and sense of home. We all need wonderful blessings like the temple to guard us from the world.Selina Adams, Yucaipa Third Ward, Redlands California Stake

“Only six days until my baptism!” Happiness said. The day was almost here!
“Are you ready?” asked Dad.
“I think so,” said Happiness.
“When you are baptized, you make a covenant,” Dad said. “Do you remember what that means?”
“It’s a promise, right?”
Dad nodded. “Yes! You promise to follow Jesus Christ and keep the commandments. Heavenly Father promises to bless and help you.”
Happiness smiled. He knew it was an important promise. He was excited to make it!
At last the day of his baptism came. Happiness changed into white clothes. Two other kids were getting baptized too. They all watched as the water filled the baptism font.
When it was his turn, Happiness and Dad stepped into the font. Dad said the baptism prayer. Then Happiness plugged his nose, and Dad lowered him all the way under the water.
When he came back up, Happiness felt so good inside! He wanted to keep his promise to follow Jesus. He wanted to feel this clean and happy forever. He never wanted to make a wrong choice again.
A few days later, Happiness woke up and turned on the water heater so he could take a bath. It took a long time for the water to heat up. So Happiness turned on the TV. He wanted to watch cartoons while he waited.
Happiness laughed as he watched the talking animals on the screen. This show was so funny! Soon he forgot all about the water heater.
An hour later, Dad walked into the room. “How long has the water heater been on?” he asked.
Happiness looked up. He had watched TV much longer than he meant to!
“Not very long,” Happiness said. “Just a few minutes.” He turned off the TV and ran to take his bath.
But for the rest of the day, Happiness felt bad inside. After his baptism he wanted to never make a wrong choice. But he had just lied to Dad!
Happiness sighed. He knew what he had to do.
“Hey, Dad,” Happiness said. “I told a lie. I left the water heater on for a long time, but I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK. Thanks for telling me,” said Dad.
“I feel really bad because I broke my baptism promise,” Happiness said.
Dad sat down with Happiness on the couch. “When you were baptized, you didn’t promise to be perfect. You promised to try hard to follow Jesus.”
Happiness nodded. That made him feel a little better.
“And do you know what you can do when you make a wrong choice?” Dad asked.
“Repent?” said Happiness.
“That’s right! When we repent, Heavenly Father forgives us. Then we can be just as clean as we were the day we were baptized. Repenting is part of keeping your baptism promise.”
Happiness grinned. “I’m going to pray and ask Heavenly Father to forgive me.” He was glad he could keep his baptism promise.
Illustrations by Macky Pamintuan

In 1832, two years after the Church was organized, two missionaries went out into the New York area to preach the gospel. A man by the name of John Tanner, who was a very influential man in that district—community-minded and religious—heard that they were coming and that they were going to hold a meeting in the schoolhouse in his town that night. He was determined that they would not preach any false doctrine in his community, so he attended this meeting to keep them straight. Because he had been crippled for many months, he had to be wheeled to the meeting in a wheelchair, and he had his son wheel him right up in front of the pulpit so that he could look the missionaries in the face and correct them if they began to teach any false doctrine.
One of the elders told about the great apostasy and how the Church was reestablished. And then the other elder got up and told about the translation of the Book of Mormon and the doctrines taught therein and then bore his testimony.
John Tanner didn’t interrupt either one of them while they were speaking, but when they finished he said to his son, “I would like to meet those young men.” His son went up, brought the young men down, and introduced his father to them.
The father asked them if they would like to come and stay with him that night. Being good missionaries, they accepted his invitation and went home to stay with him that night. They talked about the gospel, and he asked them questions until the early hours of the morning. He became so interested in the gospel that he said, “If I were able, I think I would like to apply for baptism.”
One of the elders asked, “Do you think that the Lord could heal you?” He answered, “The Lord could if he wanted to.” And the elder said, “Would you like us to administer to you, give you a blessing?” He said he would, and the elders administered to him. That very day he left his wheelchair, never to return to it, and walked four miles to be baptized.
I have often thanked my Heavenly Father that those two missionaries went out and preached the gospel to John Tanner and that he had the courage when he heard the truth to accept it, even though he knew he would be ostracized in the community if he joined the Church.
Some years later he learned that the Church was in financial difficulty. Since he was well-fixed financially, he sold everything he had and gave it to President Joseph Smith to help meet the obligations. He remained true to the faith.
I am so thankful that his son remained true to the faith, and his son remained true to the faith, and his son, who was my father, remained true to the faith. And as a result I am here as a member of the Church today in the position I hold.

My family moved to America from the Philippines when I was 11 years old. At first, I had a hard time fitting in. But once I learned how to speak English, I quickly adopted the popular culture. I loved listening to pop music, trying different hairstyles, and wearing faddish clothing. I did not have a testimony. Instead, I had a rebellious attitude.
My life turned around when I decided to accept the prophet’s challenge to seriously read and study the Book of Mormon. I read the book from cover to cover. It felt good and wonderful, but I still wasn’t sure whether it was true.
Nervously, I tried Moroni’s promise in Moroni 10:4–5. I expected angels to appear, but nothing happened. I thought, “That was it?”
In spite of my disappointment, I continued studying the book. One night I had a dream about the Book of Mormon. When I woke up, I felt a burning in my heart, peace of mind, and assurance. I thought, “This is it. This is my answer.”
After that experience, my confidence soared. I did better in my studies, attended more school activities, and, most importantly, became very active in the Church. I continue to study the Book of Mormon and apply its teachings to my life. The experiences I had while reading the Book of Mormon became anchors to me in my life.

Elder Meurs told the story of his parents, who lived in the area, joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1958.
Fred and Lois Meurs, strong Christians from different faiths were actively searching for someone to answer their gospel questions. After carefully studying the New Testament, they began to search for a church that had teachings that were consistent with Jesus’s teachings.
They had questions about the purpose of life, priesthood authority, what happens when we die, ordinances like baptism, and the role of prophets and apostles. They had spoken to the religious leaders of the community, but no one could give them the answers they were searching for. They began to earnestly pray for someone to answer their questions.
That same week, two full-time missionaries, Elder Jones and Elder Erikson, knocked on their door and said they had a message about Jesus Christ to share with them. Fred and Lois asked them all their questions, and the missionaries answered every one. Three weeks later the Meurs were baptised and confirmed. Some other families joined soon after, and the first Warrnambool Branch was formed.

Illustrations by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
Some wicked people wanted to kill Joseph Smith. He and his brother Hyrum decided to leave their homes in Nauvoo so they would be safe. They sadly said good-bye to their families and started their journey.
Men are seeking to kill my brother Joseph, and the Lord has warned him to flee to the Rocky Mountains to save his life.
Troops came to Nauvoo to arrest Joseph and Hyrum. People in Nauvoo worried what the troops would do, so Emma sent men to tell Joseph and Hyrum. They decided to go to Carthage. Joseph knew he would die there.
I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God and towards all men. I shall die an innocent man, and it shall yet be said of me—he was murdered in cold blood.
A constable arrested Joseph and Hyrum and sent them to Carthage Jail. Many people visited the Prophet there. On June 27, 1844, Hyrum, Elder John Taylor, and Elder Willard Richards stayed with him in the upstairs bedroom of the jail.
The room got very hot that afternoon. The men opened the windows to try to cool off. Hyrum read a book while Joseph talked to a guard. John Taylor sang “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief” (Hymns, no. 29).
A poor, wayfaring Man of grief hath often crossed me on my way …
Please sing that song again, John.
Brother Hyrum, I do not feel like singing.
You will get the spirit of it.
A mob of angry men gathered around the jail. Then they rushed up the stairs, shooting their guns. Hyrum was killed.
Oh! My poor, dear brother Hyrum.
Joseph fired six shots to try to stop the mob. Then he ran to the window. Men in the mob shot him, and he fell out of the window.
Oh Lord, my God!
When the Latter-day Saints in Nauvoo heard about the Prophet’s death, they were heartbroken. More than 10,000 people walked through Joseph’s house to see the bodies of the beloved Prophet and his brother.
“Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it. … He lived great, and he died great in the eyes of God and his people; and … sealed his mission and his works with his own blood” (D&C 135:3).

Bishop Benson told how he was prompted by the Holy Ghost to check on Sister Henderson during the week. Sister Henderson was a widow who lived about two kilometers up a dirt road off the main highway into town. When the bishop went to see her, he found her furnace had broken down. She didn’t have a telephone and was no longer able to drive, so she had prayed to Heavenly Father for help. The still, small voice had told her all would be well.

Elisa (4) and LaRece (5) spend a lot of time with their father, who flies supplies into the native villages. They take turns going with him and helping him load and unload the plane. Planes are the only way to get to many parts of Alaska, and the people who live in the remote areas are happy to see the supply planes come in. LaRece and Elisa get to meet lots of people in many places, and they share their sunny smiles and their love of the gospel wherever they go. They are starting their missionary work early!

In 2017, after returning from my mission, I embarked on an academic journey fueled by faith and determination. I enrolled in a computer school, dedicating a year to acquiring valuable skills. My resolve grew stronger, leading me to take the university entrance exam. To my delight, I was successfully admitted that same year.
Amidst my academic pursuits, I learned about the Benson Agricultural and Food Scholarship. Despite applying twice, I faced disappointment as there were insufficient funds. However, my fortune changed when I met Karen Melby Teerlink, the missionary couple dedicated to welfare. With their support, I was finally awarded the scholarship.
Since receiving the Benson scholarship, my life has transformed remarkably. At Stella Maris Polytechnic University, I consistently achieved honor roll status, a testament to the comprehensive support provided by the scholarship, covering all fees, including books and other expenses.
The scholarship alleviated my financial struggles, allowing me to focus on my studies. This opportunity enabled me to serve as a student leader, a favorite among students, and a trusted communicator within the administration. I had the privilege to conduct surveys for the Center for Agricultural Research Institute (CARI) on integrated rice and fish farming, and for World Fish under CARI, as well as a survey for Solidaridad on cocoa seeding and plantain suckers. These experiences were invaluable and only possible because of the scholarship.
Today, I am proud to be the first in my family to earn a BS degree. This milestone sets a precedent for my siblings, encouraging them to pursue higher education. Inspired by the scholarship’s impact, I initiated an animal husbandry project, starting with pig raising and planning to expand to other animals like goats and cattle. My vision includes establishing an agribusiness that encompasses the entire value chain process, benefiting end consumers.
Currently, I am pursuing agribusiness studies at BYU-Idaho, an opportunity made possible by the scholarship and the support of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am immensely grateful for these blessings and the positive changes in my life. The scholarship has not only advanced my education but also instilled a deep sense of responsibility to give back to society with the knowledge and skills I have gained.
My journey is a testament to the power of faith, perseverance, and the profound impact of the Benson Scholarship. I am committed to making a difference in my community and beyond, forever indebted to those who have supported me along the way.

Krista climbed the four steps to her front porch and dropped her backpack with a thud. Then she plopped down beside it and pulled out her social studies book, Adventures in Social Studies, Level 3. “Adventures? Ha!” Krista snorted. “More like nightmares! It’s all your fault,” she muttered. “Why did you have to be about Japan? Now what am I going to do?”
Dropping her book, Krista wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest. Chewing on her lower lip, she thought back on school that day.
Mrs. Mickles had clapped her hands together to get the class’s attention. “To end our study of Japan, this Friday we are going to have a Japanese tea ceremony,” she announced.
The class buzzed with excitement. No one seemed to notice how still Krista was. My family doesn’t drink tea, she thought. How can I go to a tea ceremony and not drink tea? Maybe she would be sick Friday and miss the whole thing.
By dinnertime Krista still hadn’t solved her problem. Gloomily she gathered the dishes off the table and carried them to the kitchen sink.
“What’s wrong, Krista?” Mom asked as she loaded the dishwasher. “You’ve been frowning ever since you came home from school.”
“Oh, Mom,” groaned Krista, “I just don’t know what to do. In Primary we learned about the prophet Daniel and how he obeyed God’s food laws even when the king said not to. And then we learned that Heavenly Father has given us the Word of Wisdom. One of the things we’re not suppose to do is drink coffee or tea. But Friday we’re having a special Japanese tea ceremony at school, and if I don’t drink the tea, everybody will think I’m weird and call me a spoilsport.” Tears rolled down Krista’s face as Mom hugged her tight.
“Let’s sit on the couch,” Mom said. “I’m sure that you can find a solution to your problem if you try.” As they snuggled together, Mom continued, “Tell me more about Daniel. Maybe he can help you.”
Krista gulped and wiped her eyes with her hands. Biting her bottom lip, she thought hard. “Well,” she began, “Daniel was a boy when he and his friends were captured by King Nebu-something-or-other.”
“Nebuchadnezzar,” Mother said.
“That’s right,” replied Krista. “Nebuchadnezzar was a king who ordered Daniel and his friends to eat lots of rich foods and drink wine. He thought it would make them stronger. Daniel knew that God said to not eat those foods because they’re bad for you.”
“So what did Daniel do?”
Krista chewed on her lip again. “Well, he asked if he could eat simple foods and water. At first the answer was no, but Daniel suggested a test. He and his friends would eat the simple, good foods, while the rest of the boys would eat what the king ordered.”
“What happened?” Mom prompted Krista.
“Daniel won! In the end, Daniel’s group was wiser and looked healthier than the other group, so all of them had to eat like Daniel after that.”
Krista thought about Daniel. He had courage, disobeying the king, and he really loved Heavenly Father. I love Heavenly Father, too, so how can I be like Daniel?
Excitedly Krista jumped up from the couch. “Oh, Mom, I can be like Daniel! I can ask Mrs. Mickles if I can drink punch instead of tea because God doesn’t want me to drink tea.” She spun around the room until she collapsed dizzily to the floor. “I bet she’ll understand.”
The next morning Krista slowly approached Mrs. Mickles’ desk. The words that seemed so perfect last night sounded scary now. “Uh, Mrs. Mickles,” she blurted out, “can I talk to you about the tea ceremony? Our family doesn’t drink tea. My church teaches that it’s bad for you—so could I bring some punch to drink, instead?”
There! She’d said it! And Mrs. Mickles didn’t look upset. Instead, she was smiling. “What a good idea, Krista. I’m sure there are other children who might not want to drink tea or won’t even like it. I’ll bring some punch so that everyone can have a choice.”
Krista gave a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank you, Mrs. Mickles. You’re the best teacher ever!” She headed back to her desk, half-skipping in delight. Now she could enjoy the tea ceremony!
Friday finally came. After lunch, the desks were pushed to the front wall, and a woven mat placed on the floor. The boys and girls took off their shoes and knelt in a half circle on the edge of the mat. Mrs. Mickles bowed to them, and everyone bowed back. Krista watched happily as her friends received little plates of cookies and their choice of tea or punch. When Mrs. Mickles came to Krista, they exchanged bows, then Krista took her plate of cookies and cup of punch. She smiled when Mrs. Mickles winked at her. Sipping her punch, Krista decided that the Japanese tea ceremony was pretty nice, after all—thanks to Daniel.

At Young Women camp in the mountains of California, girls and leaders waited for dinner in an A-frame lodge. As we waited, some girls noticed something under a table. A hummingbird had somehow flown into the lodge, couldn’t find its way out, and finally collapsed on the floor. They asked me to help.
The bird looked near death, its beak wrapped with cobwebs and its feathers askew. I gently put it into a cup and carried it outside. I hoped it would recover on its own but realistically expected it to go the way of all nature. However, as I tipped the cup to gently deposit the hummingbird onto the ground, in mid-slide the hummingbird grasped the rim of the cup with its tiny talons. I held the cup upright, the bird perched on the rim, its eyes closed. Now what?
One leader, seeing the bird, mixed a solution of sugar and water and brought it to me. First I gently brushed the cobwebs from the needle-sharp beak. The bird didn’t flinch. Then I dipped a finger in the sugar water and held a drop to the tip of the beak. The drop disappeared, even though the bird didn’t move. Perhaps the liquid seeped into the beak? I dipped my finger again and held it to the bird’s beak. This time a tiny tongue, thinner than a hair, licked my fingertip.
For 10 or 15 minutes, the hummingbird drank one drop after another. By then, several other leaders had gathered around me, and I offered them a try at feeding it.
Suddenly the bird opened its eyes, and its ruffled feathers fell instantly into place. After drinking a couple more drops, it started its wings, warmed them for a second, and flew straight up. It hesitated a moment above us, and then shot away.
We stood there, stunned. And then, as suddenly as the bird had flown away, the spiritual lessons came:

About a month ago four of the Young Adults gathered in Loughborough for a Young Adults conference, along with others from all over England. This group of four went to perform, as did the others, some unsolicited Christian service. Their intended activity, through no fault of their own, could not be performed, so they were left with some time on their hands. While walking along the street, they decided to stop at a pay telephone and call the local public hospital to see if they could be of help. A nurse in one of the wards answered the telephone and was asked by the one calling if four young people could come over to the hospital and scrub floors or walls, wash dishes, or do any other similar needed task without pay. Apparently this was an uncommon request, because the young man calling said, “After the nurse picked herself up from the floor, she said, ‘Are you kidding?’”

During a morning of helping to scrub and of visiting patients, these four Young Adults had an unforgettable experience. They seek, as Aristotle said, to be those “who have at heart the best interests of the state and of its citizens.”

“Come on, Meagan, just try it on. You might change your mind,” Sarah said, shoving the dress into my arms.
Hesitantly, I took the dress back to my changing room. It was a beautiful, black satin gown, studded with sequins. I studied it as it hung on the hook in the dressing room. Sarah was right; trying it on wouldn’t hurt. Trying it on didn’t mean I wanted to buy it; it just meant I wanted to see what it looked like on me.
“Well?” Sarah asked impatiently.
“I like it. It’s really nice,” I forced myself to say, as I saw myself in the mirror.
My mom would hate it! The spaghetti straps would never pass my father’s approval, and the low cut back was definitely not modest.
“So what’s the problem?” Sarah could tell by the tone in my voice that I was not crazy about it.
I tried to think of a million excuses that I could tell Sarah to let her know how important modesty was to me, without sounding too stuffy.
“Well, it’s … just not me.”
“You’re afraid your parents wouldn’t approve,” Sarah quickly responded.
It wasn’t just that my parents would not approve; it was more that I didn’t feel right wearing it.
“Listen, Meagan,” Sarah said. “Prom is only once a year. God won’t care if you look fashionable just this once.”
Straightening the slinky gown, I looked down and saw my CTR ring. Choose the right, I reminded myself, and let the consequences follow. I had to tell Sarah the truth. It wasn’t just what other people thought of me; it was what I thought of myself. Even though Sarah wasn’t a member of the Church, I knew if I was honest with her and explained why modesty was important to me, she would understand. Prom was a big deal, but it was not worth sacrificing my integrity.
I looked at my CTR ring again and replied, “You’re right, Sarah.” Changing back into my clothes, I continued, “I should do what makes me happy.” Sarah smiled since she assumed I meant to buy the dress. “And that is why I can’t buy it. It wouldn’t make me happy.”
I ended up wearing a maroon dress with a modest neckline and cap sleeves that my mom and Sister Wright sewed on for me. More important than what I wore on the outside was how I felt on the inside. I knew I had made the right decision by dressing modestly. What we wear to dances may not seem like a big deal, but the little decisions we make now are what help us choose the right when we are presented with big choices later.

Whenever I hear bad language, I remember when Joseph Smith was in jail and the guards were cursing and using vulgar language. Joseph told them that if they did not stop either they or he would die. They immediately stopped.
Liliana L., 18, California, USA
Editor’s note: Read about Joseph Smith’s experience at lds.org/go/122.