Gospel Story Finder

One other account from those early, faithful builders of modern Zion. John R. Moyle lived in Alpine, Utah, about 22 miles as the crow flies to the Salt Lake Temple, where he was the chief superintendent of masonry during its construction. To make certain he was always at work by 8:00, Brother Moyle would start walking about 2:00 a.m. on Monday mornings. He would finish his work week at 5:00 p.m. on Friday and then start the walk home, arriving there shortly before midnight. Each week he would repeat that schedule for the entire time he served on the construction of the temple.
Once when he was home on the weekend, one of his cows bolted during milking and kicked Brother Moyle in the leg, shattering the bone just below the knee. With no better medical help than they had in such rural circumstances, his family and friends took a door off the hinges and strapped him onto that makeshift operating table. They then took the bucksaw they had been using to cut branches from a nearby tree and amputated his leg just a few inches below the knee. When against all medical likelihood the leg finally started to heal, Brother Moyle took a piece of wood and carved an artificial leg. First he walked in the house. Then he walked around the yard. Finally he ventured out about his property. When he felt he could stand the pain, he strapped on his leg, walked the 22 miles to the Salt Lake Temple, climbed the scaffolding, and with a chisel in his hand hammered out the declaration “Holiness to the Lord.”

One day I was teaching my daughter Maria how to listen to answers to her prayers. “Honey, listen in your prayer to your conscience. Then respond to what you feel or sense.” She questioned how to do this. I suggested that whenever she asks for a certain blessing, she ask herself if she has done everything possible to earn and deserve that blessing. (And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated. D&C 130:21) Then the Lord will speak to her heart through her conscience.
Maria did this and she said that nothing new was given, for “I already know what I should do.” I asked her where she got that knowledge. She answered, “In my Sunday School class.” I pointed out that Sunday School was part of the Lord’s kingdom and that the true principles she had learned there were lodged in her heart and mind.
The Holy Ghost brings those principles to remembrance when we need them to meet the demands of each situation. “For behold, again I say unto you that if ye will enter in by the way, and receive the Holy Ghost, it will show unto you all things what ye should do.” (2 Ne. 32:5)

Early in Joseph’s marriage, he learned that his success in doing the work of the Lord was directly linked to the harmony that prevailed in his home. While he was working on the translation of the Book of Mormon, Joseph and Emma had “some words,” as every young married couple occasionally does. Joseph went upstairs in the Whitmer home to continue the translation of the Book of Mormon, but he discovered that he could not, for “all was dark.” It wasn’t until Joseph had retired to the woods to pray for forgiveness and then returned to obtain Emma’s forgiveness that the Spirit of the Lord returned so that the translation could continue. (See B. H. Roberts, A Comprehensive History of the Church, 1:130–131.)

Amber stared up at the movie theater marquee and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her stomach twisted this way and that. Why does this have to happen to me now that I’m finally making friends here? she wondered. Trish, Sarah, and Kristin are so popular that I’m lucky they invited a new kid like me.
There were several people ahead of them in the ticket line. Amber knew that she had only a few minutes to make one of the toughest decisions of her twelve-year-old life.
She ran her fingers through her hair and pinched her lips together as she looked around at the girls with her. Their eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Only Trish could have come up with such a great plan!” exclaimed Sarah.
Trish, a tall, thin girl, laughed. “Well, since Bambi and TeenAgent are playing here together, why not take advantage of it?”
“I’m not sure my parents would let me go to a PG-13 movie if I asked them,” said Kristin, shoving her hands down into the back pockets of her jeans.
“But what parent would say no to good old Bambi!” Trish observed with a mischievous giggle. “Bambi—what a bore! It’s OK for five-year-olds, but we’re almost thirteen. Why shouldn’t we go to a PG-13 movie?”
Sarah moved a few steps closer to the ticket office. “It’ll be perfect. We see the other movie, and our parents think we’re at the kid show. Amber, you’re going to love TeenAgent. My older sister saw it, and she said it was great. The only reason it’s rated PG-13 is the bad language and a little bit of violence.”
“But it’s nothing we haven’t already heard at school,” Trish put in. “And what’s the big deal about a little violence? I can handle it, can’t you?” she asked Amber. Turning to the other two girls she continued, “TeenAgent will run longer than Bambi, so we’ll have to really hurry over to the pizza parlor afterward. If we’re still eating when my parents come, we’ll just tell them that the restaurant was really busy and it took a long time to get our pizza.” With a crooked smile, she added, “They’ll believe us.”
Amber’s stomach twisted into another knot as she looked at Trish and thought, Why didn’t you tell me the truth when you invited me? Why are you putting me in this awful—she couldn’t think of a right word for a second—situation. The word triggered a memory in Amber’s troubled mind. “You’re going to be put in situations that will test your spiritual strength.” She could picture Sister Hansen, her last Primary teacher, saying those words. “You may find yourself in situations that demand that you lower your standards. Unless you have a firm testimony of Jesus Christ and His Church, your spiritual strength may give way under peer pressure.” Spiritual strength. Testimony. The words echoed in Amber’s mind.
Sarah was buying her ticket now.
Which is more important to me right now: following our prophet, or my new friends? Amber’s mind raced as she watched Trish step up to buy her ticket. Do I really, truly believe?
“Amber, it’s your turn,” Kristin whispered after she’d bought her own ticket. Trish and Sarah were standing to the side of the ticket booth, watching her.
Stepping up to the booth, Amber said in a confident tone, “One ticket for Bambi, please.”
Sarah gasped. Trish’s look of surprise quickly turned into a smug glare. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said as Amber joined them. “We’re all going to the other movie. What’s the big deal? Don’t you think you can handle a little blood and bad language?”
“I’d rather see Bambi,” Amber answered in a firm voice.
“Your parents won’t find out that you …” Sarah faltered.
Amber shook her head. “It’s not their decision. It’s mine. And I just don’t want to see the other movie.”
“But what about going for pizza afterward?” asked Kristin, now standing next to Trish.
Amber turned to Kristin. She could see worry in her kind eyes. “Bambi gets out a lot earlier, so I’ll just call my parents to come get me. Maybe we can all go for pizza another—”
“Come on,” Trish interrupted, taking Sarah’s arm. “I guess I made a big mistake inviting her.”
Amber thought she saw a glimmer of understanding in Sarah’s eyes as she was whisked away by Trish. After two or three hurried steps, Trish turned and called, “Come on, Kristin, or we won’t get good seats.”
“I think I’ll go to Bambi, too,” Kristin said, her voice sounding apologetic. Turning to Amber, she added, “If that’s OK with you.”
“Great—just great!” grumbled Trish as she and Sarah disappeared into the theater.
“OK? It’s wonderful! But are you sure? They looked pretty upset,” Amber said.
Kristin shrugged her shoulders. “I’d rather see Bambi, too, but I was afraid to say so. Trish can be pretty persuasive sometimes. Let’s go exchange my ticket.”
Standing in line again, Kristin asked, “Why didn’t you want to go to the other movie? Were you afraid your parents would find out and ground you or something?”
“I’m sure they’d be hurt to know that I lied to them. But even if I had asked to go to a PG-13 movie, they would’ve said it was my decision. Then they would have had faith in me to make the correct choice.” Amber found it a relief to talk about it now. “I just didn’t want to see a movie with bad language and violence in it.”
“Why not?”
“Because our prophet, the leader of our Church, has counseled us not to go to movies that go against the teachings of Jesus Christ.”
“Boy, you must really believe your prophet and your Church,” said Kristin.
“I do, but I didn’t realize how much until today.”
Kristin shook her head a little. “I wish I could be strong like you. My family doesn’t believe in anything, and sometimes I feel so empty.”
All through the movie, Amber thought about Kristin’s words and the look in her eyes when she had said them. As the movie ended and the lights came up, she said, “Kristin, let’s call my parents to come get us. We can go to my house for some of my mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted them!”
“Do you think it would be OK with your parents?” asked Kristin.
“I’m sure it would. Mom always says, ‘When you have five kids, what’s one more?’ Besides, I’d really like you to meet my family. I have a feeling that we’re going to be good friends.”

Early in the morning today I went to the municipality offices in Dombo Tombo, and while we were in line a woman dropped a $20 note on the ground. I saw it fall and told her about it. She picked it up and said, “Thank you.”
Many of the other people in line said to me, “You are stupid. You are foolish. Why didn’t you take the money and buy your own things?”
But I said, “No, I shall never do that because I am a child of God.”
When the others calmed down, an older man who was standing behind me said quietly, “Do you go to church? It seems as if you are a good girl.”
And I said, “Yes, I go to church.”
And he said, “What is the name of your church?”
I said, “It is called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If you want to, you can come to the Dombo Tombo Hall on Tuesday nights at 5:30 P.M. or on Sunday at half past ten and I will meet you there.”
And the man said, “Oh, yes! I will come!”
So I am very happy about what I did today.

An appropriate tribute of gratitude was made by a young Latter-day Saint girl attending a Denver, Colorado, high school. The students in her class had been asked to prepare a letter to be written to a great man of their choice. Many addressed their letters to sports heroes, some to the leaders of their nation, while others addressed their letters to persons of reknown. This young lady, however, addressed her letter to her father, and in the letter she stated: “I have decided to write this letter to you, Dad, because you are the greatest man that I have ever known. The overwhelming desire of my heart is that I will so live that I might have the privilege of being beside you and Mother and other members of the family in the celestial kingdom.” That father has never received a more cherished letter.

“When I was growing up, I had a great bishop, Bishop William F. Perschon of the Fourth Ward, one of the oldest wards in Salt Lake City. My twelfth birthday fell on a Sunday, and Bishop Perschon called me to the stand during sacrament meeting and told the congregation that I had been interviewed and was worthy to be ordained a deacon. After I was sustained, he announced, ‘We’d like to ordain him right now.’ He got a chair, and the stake president, who was there, ordained me a deacon in front of the whole ward!”

Set an example of service. The shining moment of the conference came in the form of service. Except for one very rainy morning, the youth spent several hours each day cleaning different areas of the island—picking up trash, cutting weeds and bushes, removing rocks, hauling away garbage. During the conference, they cleaned beaches along the dock area and tidied up the village cemetery, the church grounds and building, and the local soccer field, which had become little more than a garbage dump and an eyesore.
Mani Terooatea is a Laurel from Takaroa home on vacation from Japan, where she has been studying the technique of pearl grafting (placing tiny pieces of mussel shells inside oysters in order to cultivate pearls). Mani said, “It was super to clean up the field, to see everyone working side by side. It didn’t take long, and I’m glad we could leave the place cleaner than we found it.” Mani brought along a friend who is a member of another faith. The friend, Hina Dexter, developed a new appreciation for Latter-day Saints, as did several other non-LDS participants.

A couple of years ago my grandson Christian was turning eight and planning his baptismal service with great anticipation. He asked his mother if I could be one of the speakers and share my conversion story. When I asked him why he wanted me to do that, he replied, “Grandma, that is so important. Do you realize that if you hadn’t accepted the gospel, I wouldn’t be getting baptized? I wouldn’t even be who I am.”

I don’t know if missionaries realize the far-reaching impact of their work. In my own family, the blessings of the gospel have now touched four generations. Didn’t President Gordon B. Hinckley say that “when we save a girl, we save generations”? I got married in the temple and have eight children. They are all faithful members of the Church, endowed in the temple. Six of them are now married and have their own children. At present there are 34 of us. And that is not all. Both my husband and I served missions, and our two sons and three of our six daughters have also served missions. Collectively we have helped hundreds embrace the gospel in many countries. Some of those converts and their children have also served missions.

I think of Oliver Cowdery. Here was a man who gave up his work as a teacher to go to assist the Prophet Joseph Smith in the translation of the Book of Mormon. While so serving, a question arose concerning baptism. The answer to their prayer was the bestowal of the Aaronic Priesthood under the hands of John the Baptist.
It was Oliver Cowdery also who, in company with the Prophet Joseph Smith, experienced the laying on of hands of Peter, James, and John, the Apostles who had received the priesthood from the Lord Himself while in mortality. It was Oliver Cowdery who became a witness of the plates from which the Book of Mormon was translated. He became the second elder in the Church. He was one of the three who were asked by the Prophet to seek out the first Twelve Apostles in this dispensation. He instructed them in words that ring with power down to this day.
And yet this same Oliver Cowdery let a few trivial things get in his way. He became disaffected and sullen and critical of Joseph Smith. The spirit of apostasy gnawed at him until he left the Church.
He later came back, asking only to be accepted as a member. Of him Wilford Woodruff declared:
“I have seen Oliver Cowdery when it seemed as though the earth trembled under his feet. I never heard a man bear a stronger testimony than he did when under the influence of the Spirit. But the moment he left the kingdom of God, that moment his power fell like lightning from Heaven. He was shorn of his strength like Samson in the lap of Delilah. He lost the power and the testimony which he had enjoyed, and he never recovered it again in its fulness while in the flesh, although he died in the Church” (Stanley R. Gunn, Oliver Cowdery—Second Elder and Scribe, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1962, page 73).

At one time, our ward needed a Gospel Doctrine teacher in Sunday School. As a bishopric we prayed and reviewed several names with the Sunday School president. But we didn’t feel a confirmation about what to do. Once again, Larry had an idea. “What about Ila Gibb?” Ila was in her 70s, but we all felt impressed that she would be a good teacher. The Sunday School president agreed.
Sister Gibb laughed when Larry and I extended the calling. “I’m old,” she said. “Just leave me on the shelf.”
When Larry replied, “Sister Gibb, how old … ,” I thought he was going to hold himself up as an example. But he didn’t. He said with kindness, “How old is the prophet?” At this time, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) had just become the President of the Church at age 84.
“I see where you’re headed,” Ila replied. “I guess we’re never too old to serve.” And for the next three years, she served as a marvelous Gospel Doctrine teacher.

Nell was so excited she could hardly wait to change her Sunday clothes and run out to tell Dad what she had learned at conference. She didn’t even take time to put on her shoes, but ran barefoot across the dusty yard.
It was June 1899. There had been no rain in southern Utah for more than two years. The streams and even the wells around St. George had dried up. No crops could grow without water, and thousands of cattle had died on the range. Some of the families had already moved, and now Dad was also preparing to leave. Earlier that morning he had decided he was too busy packing the wagon to go to conference, even though President Lorenzo Snow had come all the way from Salt Lake City to talk to the people.
“Dad! Oh, Dad!” Nell called as she ran to him. “You can take our things out of the wagon. We don’t have to leave! In conference today President Snow said if the people will pay their tithing and plant their fields, the rains will come and we’ll have food.”
But Dad didn’t seem to understand. He just shook his head and sat down on the tongue of the wagon, staring out across the barren fields.
Dad had explained again and again that they could not live through another year without rain. There was very little food on their pantry shelves, and all the money that was left was the twenty dollars Grandfather had given to Nell.
Later that evening as Dad was washing up for dinner, Nell overheard him tell Mother they should all be ready to start at six the next morning. “We can make Thomson’s ranch by noon if we do,” he said.
The family sat down to a simple meal. No one spoke. Nell felt so sad she could hardly choke down the food. Finally she swallowed hard and said, “Grandfather once told me a story about how the people were blessed by doing exactly as Brigham Young asked them to do.”
Her father and mother stopped eating to listen as Nell continued, “When I said I wished I had lived then so I could have followed a prophet, Grandfather said that President Snow is our prophet today just like Brigham Young was then and that we should all follow him.”
After Nell finished telling the story, she asked Dad to take her precious twenty dollars. “You can give it to Bishop Thorne,” she explained, “to help bring rain to St. George!”
Early the next morning Nell looked out the window and saw a great cloud of dust blowing at the far end of the field. She dressed quickly and ran out across the dry ground.
When Dad saw her, he stopped the horses and held out his arms. Nell flew into them and he held her close. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “I thought you’d never get here in time to help me plow the field and plant our seeds!”
During the hot dry weeks that followed, the people of St. George anxiously scanned the cloudless sky and sadly shook their heads. But neither Nell nor her father were at all surprised when on the second of August it began to rain.

Members from all over the Church contributed to the rescue of the German Saints. President Stover was part of an event which he would call “the most beautiful and inspiring thing that has ever been my privilege to witness during my entire membership in the Church.” It began on a visit to Holland when he graphically described the suffering of the German members. Cornelius Zappey, president of the Netherlands Mission, was so moved that he asked the Dutch members if they would plant seed potatoes in their flower gardens for their former enemies. They responded enthusiastically, and in November of 1947, they sent 60 tons of potatoes to Germany, along with 96 barrels of herring. They sent another 60 tons of potatoes in 1949.

August 10
Dear Sarah,
Nothing has been worse so far than picking beans. Mr. Trujillo can’t bend over now, so I picked all the beans, my rows and his. Your back aches, and the leaves make your skin itch, and the sun is beating down on you. Mrs. Trujillo gave me an old straw hat to wear. We got three bushels! Mr. Trujillo smiled and said, “There’ll be this many again in about ten days.” I could have cried. But by then it was cooler, and Mrs. Trujillo brought out ice cream with fresh peaches sliced on it. Then you’ll never guess what happened—Mr, and Mrs. Trujillo took me into their garage and gave me one of their kids’ old bicycles. It was all clean and shiny, with new paint and new tires and the chain all oiled. I gave them both a hug.
I took a big, juicy peach home to Lindsay, and she ate it all!
Have you found any new people to teach?
Love,Angela the Cyclist

Eight young men of the Cleveland Ward, Kingwood Texas Stake, decided to all get their Eagles before the age deadline made several of them ineligible. They made a decision to work and accomplish this goal together. Only tragedy interfered with their goal.
All eight boys were active in key roles in school, sports, and at church. They were all on target progressing toward their Eagles. Stanley Neal, one of the group, died. The remaining seven, although shaken, regrouped and worked harder than ever. Then Andrew Fager and Michael Tompkins drowned on a family outing. Both boys had only to complete their Eagle projects to earn their badges. Five boys and their leader were grief stricken to lose their good friends. They had made a pledge, and these tragedies seemed to spur them on. They all submitted their applications together. Benny Dale, Raymond Hebert, Lance Hill, Allan Neal, and L. Paul Stinson earned their Eagles.

He worked as a driver for a local cacao company in his hometown until civil war and unrest led him to move to Abidjan in 2004. There he encountered Latter-day Saint missionaries and learned about the restored gospel.
He was baptized on March 25, 2005, and his testimony has only continued to grow from there.
“Six months after my baptism, President [Gordon B.] Hinckley invited all the members around the world to read the Book of Mormon. Following President Hinckley’s invitation, my mind began to open, and the message of the Restoration became clearer for me to understand,” Bishop says.
But it was those missionaries’ initial love and interest in him as a person that first piqued his interest.
“My conversion did not begin with the [gospel] teachings. . . . I was only impressed by the missionaries; I loved their mark of attention towards me.”
And those missionaries probably had no idea how much that “mark of attention” would mean to Bishop. It became a huge focal point in his life and how he now shares the gospel with others.

As they walk through the Kiev Botanical Gardens, Lilia Velbivets and Aliona Papilenkova explain. “Youth in the Church are a lot like those trees,” Lilia says. “We shelter each other, we protect each other, and together we grow straight and true.”
Lilia talks about her family’s growth in the gospel. “My mother and I met the sister missionaries, and we were excited to learn about another testament of Jesus Christ (the Book of Mormon). But my father was an atheist and slower to convert.” As the family took the discussions regularly, however, her father’s heart was touched. All three were baptized on the same day.
“The next year was wonderful as we prepared to go to the temple (in Freiberg, Germany) to be sealed as a family,” Lilia continues. “When we arrived I felt like I was at home, because the temple is the house of God and we are His children.”

Some years ago while I was attending the Grand Junction Colorado Stake conference, the stake president asked if I would meet with a grieving mother and father whose son had announced his decision to leave his mission field after having just arrived there. When the conference throng had left, we knelt quietly in a private place—mother, father, stake president, and I. As I prayed in behalf of all, I could hear the muffled sobs of a sorrowing mother and disappointed father.

When we arose, the father said, “Brother Monson, do you really think our Heavenly Father can alter our son’s announced decision to return home before completing his mission? Why is it that now, when I am trying so hard to do what is right, my prayers are not heard?”

I responded, “Where is your son serving?”

He replied, “In Duesseldorf, Germany.”

I placed my arms around that mother and father and said to them, “Your prayers have been heard and are already being answered. With more than twenty-eight stake conferences being held this day attended by the General Authorities, I was assigned to your stake. Of all the Brethren, I am the only one who has the assignment to meet with the missionaries in the Duesseldorf Germany Mission this very Thursday.”

Their petition had been honored by the Lord. I was able to meet with their son. He responded to their pleadings. He remained and completed a highly successful mission.

Many years later, Diane had a friend named Lynn who was taught by missionaries. Diane saw how happy Lynn was. At Lynn’s baptism, Diane heard the name “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” She remembered her friend Emma. That was the name of the church Emma went to!
Diane wanted to know more. She read the Book of Mormon and asked Heavenly Father if it was true. She felt happy, just like Emma had said she would. On the day of her baptism, she was so thankful for Emma, the friend who told her about the Church while playing hopscotch.

Contrast these events with an incident which happened to me when I was a young man in my early twenties. While serving in the Air Force, one of the pilots in my squadron crashed on a training mission and was killed. I was assigned to accompany my fallen comrade on his final journey home to be buried in Brooklyn. I had the honor of standing by his family during the viewing and funeral services and of representing our government in presenting the flag to his grieving widow at the graveside. The funeral service was dark and dismal. No mention was made of his goodness or his accomplishments. His name was never mentioned. At the conclusion of the services, his widow turned to me and asked, “Bob, what is really going to happen to Don?” I was then able to give her the sweet doctrine of the Resurrection and the reality that, if baptized and sealed in the temple for time and all eternity, they could be together eternally. The clergyman standing next to her said, “That is the most beautiful doctrine I have ever heard.”