Gospel Story Finder

I think Primary also played a big part in helping me develop a testimony of the gospel. Many of my teachers encouraged me and helped me understand what I needed to do to gain a testimony. It was a gradual process. I finally realized that I could not live off Mother’s or Dad’s testimony forever. I took the advice that my Primary teachers had given me and read the Book of Mormon, prayed about it, and found out for myself that it is true.

As a leader he has tried to encourage that desire in others. He remembers a time in 1987 when he was the bishop in Fayetteville, Arkansas. “I went into Primary one Sunday,” he says. “They had invited me. I decided to wear red suspenders. I thought that I would somehow use them as an object lesson. So I got in the Primary room, took off my coat, and said, ‘Now, boys and girls, the bishop has these red suspenders. How are the scriptures like my red suspenders?’ And one little boy raised his hand and said, ‘The scriptures hold up our faith in Jesus the same way your suspenders hold up your pants.’ I said, ‘That is exactly right.’ The little boys in the ward started wearing red suspenders, and the little girls had red bows in their hair.

“My dad was a tool-and-die maker, and he would never be caught without his tools. It seemed to me that for members of the Church of Jesus Christ our tools are the scriptures and we would always have them in our meetings. When I became the stake president, we began to hold them up to remind us how they can, if we use them, hold up our faith.”

Now I hadn’t had time to think of what to do to earn a living in a strange land with a strange language. On Friday morning, July 26, 1872, there came a man to the house of Mons Andersen who wanted a boy to help him in the field. His name was Peter Petersen. My wages were $8.00 a month. I worked with him 20 months. I must now tell a little that happened in that time. It was customary at that time that newcomers should be rebaptized. So Peter Petersen’s wife, Karen Larsen Petersen, told me, “There will be baptisms today. So you must hitch up the horses and take these people down to the mill pond to be baptized. And you must be baptized too.” I told her I would be glad to take them down, but I was not ready for baptism yet.
That coming winter I started to go to school so I could learn a little English. I had also gone with Mons Andersen’s boys to Sunday School. Eischa Pack was the teacher at that time. They were reading in turns out of the Bible; but when it came my turn to read, Brother Pack would read my verse, and there was not even a moment wasted. I was glad although I could not understand what they said. Yet I got to enjoying Sunday School. Sister Karen Larsen Petersen became sick and died on February 7, 1873, and that ended my schooling at that time. But I learned enough so I got into the Third Reader.
Now I had been studying the gospel and praying about it. I knew Jesus’s answer to Nicodemus as we find recorded in the third chapter of John: “Except a man is born of water and of the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” [John 3:5] So on August 30, 1873, I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by Mons Andersen and confirmed by Abraham Lossee in Lehi.

I will tell you of an experience I had before I was a General Authority that affected me profoundly. I sat on a plane next to a professed atheist who pressed his disbelief in God so urgently that I bore my testimony to him. “You are wrong,” I said. “There is a God. I know He lives!”
He protested, “You don’t know. Nobody knows that! You can’t know it!” When I would not yield, the atheist, who was an attorney, asked perhaps the ultimate question on the subject of testimony. “All right,” he said in a sneering, condescending way, “you say you know. Tell me how you know.”
When I attempted to answer, even though I held advanced academic degrees, I was helpless to communicate.
When I used the words Spirit and witness, the atheist responded, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” The words prayer, discernment, and faith were equally meaningless to him. “You see,” he said, “you don’t really know. If you did, you would be able to tell me how you know.”
I felt, perhaps, that I had borne my testimony to him unwisely and was at a loss as to what to do. Then came the experience! Something came into my mind. And I mention here a statement of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas … and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation, until you become perfect in Christ Jesus.”1
Such an idea came into my mind, and I said to the atheist, “Let me ask if you know what salt tastes like.”
“Of course I do,” was his reply.
“Then,” I said, “assuming that I have never tasted salt, explain to me just what it tastes like.”
After some thought, he said, “Well, I, uh, it is not sweet and it is not sour.”
“You’ve told me what it isn’t, not what it is.”
After several attempts, of course, he could not do it. He could not convey, in words alone, so ordinary an experience as tasting salt. I bore testimony to him once again and said, “I know there is a God. You ridiculed that testimony and said that if I did know, I would be able to tell you exactly how I know. My friend, spiritually speaking, I have tasted salt. I am no more able to convey to you in words how this knowledge has come than you are to tell me what salt tastes like. But I say to you again, there is a God! He does live! And just because you don’t know, don’t try to tell me that I don’t know, for I do!”
As we parted, I heard him mutter, “I don’t need your religion for a crutch! I don’t need it.”

One night, my family was playing a game about geography. My sister and I were playing against our two brothers. There was an outline of the United States on the game board. The person whose turn it was had to name the state my dad pointed to. If that person couldn’t answer the question, his or her partner could help. There was a U.S. map on the wall, but we weren’t supposed to look at it during our turn. Once while my sister was trying to remember her state, I glanced at the map and saw the name of the state next to hers.
Soon Dad pointed at the state that I had seen, and I named it. I felt bad. I knew that I shouldn’t have looked. After we named all the states we could, my dad added up the points. We got eleven points, and my dad was about to write it down, but I said, “No, ten points! I looked at the map.”
My dad said, “Wow, thanks for being honest.”
We still lost the game, but I was happy that I told the truth.

Our son is a new hematology-oncology doctor. He has had the blessing of obtaining all his medical school education and training through a scholarship from the United States Army Medical Department (AMEDD). It has provided 100 percent of his tuition, housing costs, and expenses and even a small monthly stipend during medical school. When he was working hard to qualify for that scholarship and fearing the possibility of having to take out six-figure loans if he did not, I remember a conversation we had. I will never forget what he shared. My son told me that he knew it would all work out somehow because he was committed to paying tithes and fast offerings while he was in medical school.
He wanted to know he was doing everything he could to qualify for the Lord’s help with the large task he was setting out to accomplish. His work ethic has since been tested to its limit, but he is a good example to me of never being weary in well doing (see Doctrine and Covenants 64:33). Even with his busy hospital schedule, he has happily accepted heavy Church assignments, and he and his wife and little family have been blessed.

On Christmas Eve there were only two presents under our little tree. One was for my two-year-old sister, Marycielo, and one was for me. Money was tight, Mama said, so it was all we would have.
That night Mama read a story from the Liahona about a Christmas without any presents. As she read, I felt happy and peaceful. Maybe having only one present wasn’t so bad. Then Mama said, “Instead of playing games like we usually do for Christmas Eve, what if we bring gifts to a family in the ward?”
“But what can we give them?” I asked.
“Well, we have a bit to spare.”
I glanced at our two presents, then at the picture of Jesus on the wall. “I guess Jesus would share what He had.”
We prayed about which family to visit. Many of the families we knew didn’t have much that year. After praying, we felt like we should visit the Córdoba family. They had three children, and their papa had lost his job.
We went to the store and bought panetón (a holiday bread), a baked chicken, and three little presents. We had fun picking them out. Mama spent all the money she had, about 30 Peruvian soles (about U.S. $10).
Once we were done, we drove to the Córdobas’. I held Marycielo’s hand as we walked to the door.
Sister Córdoba saw us and came out to hug us. “What a nice surprise! Come in! Sit down,” she said. As we walked inside, she squeezed Mama’s hand and patted my shoulder. “Rolando and the girls will be so happy to see you,” she told me.
The floor inside the house was made of dirt. There was no electricity, just candles. I was a little sad for the Córdoba family. I wished we could do more to help them. But Mama didn’t seem to notice the dirt or candles. She was just happy to be here with Sister Córdoba.
“We came to wish you a feliz Navidad!” Mama said. “We’re glad we’re friends.” She gave the food and presents to Sister Córdoba, who gave a big smile and said thank you.
Rolando, Madeline, and Raquel ran in from the other room to say hello. Marycielo peeked around my leg and smiled. She laughed when Rolando made a funny face at her. Soon everyone was talking, telling jokes, and laughing.
“This is better than playing games by ourselves,” I thought. I was glad we had come. It didn’t matter that we didn’t have much to share. And it didn’t matter if the floors were dirt. Christmas wasn’t about what we had. It was about being together.
As we got ready to leave, Sister Córdoba hugged us again. “Thank you so much,” she said. Her voice was shaking, and I could see tears in her eyes. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed Sister Córdoba on the cheek.
“Feliz Navidad,” I said.

I could not help noticing the lady across the aisle. She was looking around the bus with her eyes wide, her thin hands clasped together in front of her. She kept squinting out the window, shaking her wispy hair, and making a funny noise. She began fidgeting more and more, and I wondered if she was going to make a scene. I turned to the window, trying to ignore her. But curiosity made me look back again.
It was then that I saw the tears in her eyes. I wondered if she might be in trouble. I wanted to help, but what if she did make a scene? I wouldn’t know what to do. Besides, I thought, I have to get to school on time, and my stop is coming up.
Then I looked at her again and saw the fearful expression on her face. The next thing I knew, I stood up, crossed the aisle, and sat down beside her.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Do you need some help?”
Her eyes were wet, and her hands were shaking. She turned her delicate face to me, and I saw confusion in her eyes. I asked her again, “Are you okay?”
She looked down at her green handbag and fumbled through it for a pen and a notebook. She began writing, “Have we left Ottawa? I think I took the wrong bus.”
I picked up the pen and wrote, “Are you deaf?” She responded with a nod. “Don’t worry,” I continued to write. “We’ll figure this out.”
My stop was coming up next, and I knew this would make me late, but I didn’t get off. Instead, I approached the bus driver, and he phoned the station for directions. I wrote the alternate route down for her, and the bus driver said he would ensure that she caught the connecting bus.
“What is your name?” I wrote quickly, before getting off at a stop quite a distance from the school.
“Anna,” she scribbled. “Thank you. You are the friend I was praying for.” A calm smile spread across her face that made her hazel eyes sparkle. I could feel her love and appreciation. As I smiled back at her, I felt an understanding bond us together.
As the door swished behind me and I waved good-bye, I could not believe I had almost let Anna take that frightening journey alone. I ran all the way back to school with a smile on my face. I was glad I had listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost telling me that someone needed my help.

I was born in India and have 19 siblings, and I love them all like crazy! In Savior of the World, I had lots of fun wearing unique and interesting clothes along with the pounds of stage makeup. I played a resurrected being in the Resurrection scene, which was special for me since I lost two little brothers and thought about how great it will be when we get to see them again when they are resurrected. Being in Savior of the World broadened my understanding of the Savior, His life and what He did for us.
Olivia W., 17, Missouri, USA

The next day was fast Sunday. Brother Owen was the first one up to bear his testimony. He explained that he had lost his job and his family was struggling to get by. The night before, he was getting his three daughters ready for bed. They were crying because they were hungry and there was no food. His oldest daughter, still in Primary, explained that if they prayed, Heavenly Father would bring them food.
Brother Owen was overcome by the faith of his daughter. With tears in his eyes, he asked his daughter to pray. He explained that she had said a simple prayer, explaining to Heavenly Father that she and her family were hungry. Then she asked Heavenly Father to bring them food. As the prayer ended, the family was surprised by a knock on the door. They opened the door and found not one, but two large geese sitting on the doorstep. They thanked Heavenly Father for such a quick answer to their prayer. Brother Owen testified that God answers prayers and sat down. Rick and I had tears in our eyes.
From then on, every time my brother and I went hunting, we would drop our birds on the doorstep and run to the car. We left pheasants, ducks, quail, doves, and even some fish.
One day, as we were emptying the birds from our vests onto the Owens’ front porch, the door opened. Brother Owen stood in the doorway.
“I thought it was you,” said Brother Owen.
We apologized for leaving the birds there without cleaning them. He assured us that he was happy to clean the birds, and he was thankful for all the food we had left him. He told us how much he appreciated our thoughtfulness.
Initially, my brother and I had been trying to avoid the responsibility of cleaning after a hunt. But our loving Heavenly Father was able to use us to bless the lives of others. Now I look for opportunities to bless the lives of others—not to get out of work, but to be an instrument in God’s hands.

Julie Loper, the Mia Maid adviser in the Sunnyside Ward, Yakima Washington Stake, shared this story: “My husband and I concentrated one of our family home evenings on what to do in case of an emergency. Since our children were so young, we felt the most important thing to tell them was to get help as fast as they could. We made up several situations, acted them out, and tested our children to see if they understood.
“Little did we know that the following Wednesday our efforts would pay off. Our daughter, Erin, 15 months old, fell into a four-foot-deep irrigation box that had a great deal of water rushing through it. Three-year-old Ryan was just coming out of the house when he heard her cries.
“All Ryan could see was her fingertips holding onto the cement. He did not take time to investigate further, but immediately called me for help as we had discussed the week before in home evening. Those valuable seconds saved made the difference. I was able to reach her before she was forced down into the pipe which carries water onto other farms.
“Had Ryan waited before going for help, Erin’s strength would have gone before help arrived. If he had attempted to pull her up himself, probably both of them would have fallen in. Ryan said, ‘Family night helped me know what to do.’”

Aurelia stood on the bank of the Mississippi River and looked back across it. Never before in her eleven-and-a-half years had she been west of the wide river, and now here she was in Iowa.
She shivered in the February cold and tucked one hand into her coat. With the other, she held George’s hand. He was only six and was her responsibility. Ellen, thirteen, and nine-year-old Catherine walked ahead with seven-year-old Howard; little Lucy rode in the wagon with Mama, who was still very sick. But Aurelia and George stood and looked back across the river to Nauvoo.
Aurelia murmured, “Farewell, Nauvoo,” and turned with George to face the west. It would be a long journey to the Rockies, but she had her family and the true gospel. She was ready.

Karen and Susan Jacobs of Walnut Creek, California, found it fun and rewarding. It started when Karen was in the fifth grade at the American School in Copenhagen, Denmark. She was looking for a subject for a rather ambitious American history report. The teacher called for footnotes, bibliography, note cards, and oral reports—everything. Her biggest challenge was to choose a subject. Her parents suggested that she do her report on the Mormon trek westward.
“Why not?” she said.
Once started it was an easier topic to write on than most, with all that help at home, her interest, and her background on the subject from Primary and Sunday School.
Few in the class knew much about the Mormons, and the oral report, filled with interest-raising points, created a lively discussion for months afterwards. She got an A grade too!

My mom took me shopping for school supplies. I found the prettiest and coolest backpack in the whole store. I was so excited to buy it! I looked at all the pretty girls on the front. They had cute faces and cool hair, but their outfits were not modest. I showed my mom the backpack. She asked, “Well, what do you think, Allee?”
In Primary we’re learning about baptism and what it means to belong to Jesus’s family. I know that Jesus would be embarrassed if I had a backpack like that. I told my mom that the backpack was really cute, but that I didn’t want to get it. So then I found another backpack that was modest and cute. I’m glad I chose the right.

The Valiants of the Naples First Ward Primary, Vernal Utah Uintah Stake, started something big when they decided to collect aluminum cans from their families, the bishop, and along the road. They gave the bishop $9.51 for the temple. After that, at an Achievement Day activity, the girls made it their goal to collect cans everywhere they could. They made arrangements with Western Park to collect cans each night after the Dinosaur Roundup Rodeo. Wearing old coats and surgical gloves, they crawled around under the bleachers and in the dumpsters at Western Park. They and their advisers worked from 10 P.M. to midnight for three nights.
Many ward members donated cans to the project, and in July, Primary children brought cans to a pioneer activity. The total donation was $80. Inspired by the children, the whole ward gave generously, donating enough to pay for three chandeliers, the furniture, and the carpeting in the celestial room. When Stephanie Romane (11) went to the open house, she was so overwhelmed with the beauty of the celestial room that she just stood in the doorway for a while. “Who would have thought that those cans could turn into this elegant room?” she said.

Every member a missionary. “Sure, I want to be a missionary but I’m embarrassed.”
“It’s hard to do.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t want to force the gospel on others.”
So, what would you think of a simple approach that allowed you to introduce scores of friends and acquaintances to the Church or gospel principles—while you are doing your school work?
Karen and Susan Jacobs of Walnut Creek, California, found it fun and rewarding. It started when Karen was in the fifth grade at the American School in Copenhagen, Denmark. She was looking for a subject for a rather ambitious American history report. The teacher called for footnotes, bibliography, note cards, and oral reports—everything. Her biggest challenge was to choose a subject. Her parents suggested that she do her report on the Mormon trek westward.
“Why not?” she said.
Once started it was an easier topic to write on than most, with all that help at home, her interest, and her background on the subject from Primary and Sunday School.
Few in the class knew much about the Mormons, and the oral report, filled with interest-raising points, created a lively discussion for months afterwards. She got an A grade too!
Once they discovered the approach, the Jacobs sisters used it, with variations, on numerous occasions. For example, eighth-grader Susan created interest in a science lecture on the effects of smoking by cutting a calf’s heart in class (she had been taught where to cut and how the heart worked by George Washington University medical student Milo Andrus, who also supplied surgical gloves and scalpel). Such a graphic presentation by a petite girl made quite an impression on the class—and they got a strong Word-of-Wisdom explanation at the same time. The grade was A!
The heart lesson was so well accepted that Karen used a calf’s brain in her science fair presentation on the effects of narcotic drugs and won a prize. Again, she included an easy-to-give, easy-to-understand-and-accept explanation on one phase of the Lord’s law of health.
As an eleventh-grader (in a school system that has 12 grades) at Washington-Lee High School in Arlington, Virginia, Karen was very angry to find a derogatory portrayal of the Prophet Joseph and the Church in her history book. It described Joseph Smith as a farmer who moved from place to place digging for buried treasure. She pointed out the inaccuracies to her teacher who responded by asking if she would like to give a class presentation on early Church history. Karen was afraid but accepted. She got out her fifth-grade report. With the addition of the Joseph Smith story and a few other items, it was just the right thing. As it turned out it took the whole class period. The teacher right away asked Karen to repeat the report in his afternoon class. There were dozens of thoughtful questions which led to the missionaries being invited to explain more.
Although there were only three LDS seniors in her graduating class of 800, Karen’s senior government class was given the privilege of hearing four oral presentations on Church subjects. Karen spoke on the United Order, Mike Miller on the nutritional aspects of the Word of Wisdom, and Mark Forsyth on Church government. The bonus came when a nonmember friend, impressed by her visit made prior to the dedication of the Washington Temple, and with help from her LDS friends, reported on the Mormons as temple builders.
The willingness of Karen, Susan, and their friends to try this approach had wide-reaching effects. Virtually everyone in the school knew them as the Mormons. Located in a major suburb of Washington, D.C., the school was largely composed of children of foreign diplomats, congressmen, and other military and government officials; yet, the school was full of drug users, crude language, immorality, nonexistent dress standards, and hundreds of students without fixed standards or ideals. But the tiny LDS group was recognized and respected by teachers and students alike for what they believed in. None was treated with derision or given any trouble. In fact, it was most helpful in avoiding unwholesome activities to be able to say, “Remember, that’s not something Mormons do.”
Perhaps it was due in part to this early willingness to dig into gospel subjects and share LDS teachings that today Karen is taking time out from her studies in the Brigham Young University honor program to serve a mission to Spain and Susan has only a few months to wait for her mission call.
A great prophet of the Lord called on every member to be a missionary. Can you imagine the impact on teachers and students if every LDS student were to write or give just one report each year on the Church? Even in areas of heavy Church membership, many nonmembers have never been given real exposure to our teachings. What easier way to lengthen your stride and please President Kimball? Try it. Or to quote that motto in our beloved prophet’s office, “Do it!”

What, then, are some of the decisions couples can make to lead fulfilled lives when the answer is that they will not have children in this life? One night, as my husband and I were seeking an answer to this question, we read from President David O. McKay, “The noblest aim in life is to strive … to make others lives … happier.” (General Conference, April 1961.)

It was like a beacon in the dark. It became a motto, a guiding light. That night, speaking I think by inspiration from the Lord, the patriarch of our family said to me, “You need not possess children to love them. Loving is not synonymous with possessing, and possessing is not necessarily loving. The world is filled with people to be loved, guided, taught, lifted, and inspired.”

My husband and I knew that parents are constantly placed in situations that develop unselfishness and sacrifice. We began to realize that if we were to learn the important lessons that our friends with children were learning, we needed to place ourselves in situations where we could serve and sacrifice. So we began to say yes to everything and to everyone.

It wasn’t long before we had many opportunities to serve and sacrifice. Often, at the end of a long week we would plan for a moment together—just the two of us—and the telephone would ring. We’d postpone our moment together and carry on with a joyful, grateful heart for our opportunities, hoping to qualify even in some small measure for the quality spoken of by Elder Neal A. Maxwell:
“So often our sisters [and I would add brothers] comfort others when their own needs are greater than those being comforted. That quality is like the generosity of Jesus on the cross. Empathy during agony is a portion of divinity! … They do not withhold their blessings simply because some blessings are [for now at least] withheld from them.” (General Conference, April 1978.)

Allie was so happy that she felt bouncy!
She got in the car to ride home.
“Today was great!” she told Mom. “We drew pictures. And I met a new teacher. Her name is Miss Gregg. Now I have two teachers!”
Allie had been in kindergarten for three weeks. She loved everything. Activities. Projects. Lunchtime with friends. Her teacher, Mrs. Coleman. And now she had another teacher, Miss Gregg. It was perfect!
“Wait,” Mom said. “You aren’t going to have two teachers. Just one. Miss Gregg is your new teacher. That’s why you went to her class today.”
Allie frowned. “What?” Her bouncy feeling popped like a balloon.
“Mrs. Coleman’s class was too big,” Mom said. “The school chose you for a new class.”
Allie thought about her friends in Mrs. Coleman’s class. “I don’t think the class was too big.”
“You’ll have fun in your new class,” Mom said.
But Allie didn’t want a new class. She would miss Mrs. Coleman and her new friend Caitlin. This morning school was perfect. Now it was ruined.
At bedtime Allie kneeled to pray.
“Why don’t you ask Heavenly Father to help you in your new class?” Mom said.
“Dear Heavenly Father,” Allie said, “please help me have fun at school.” She started to feel a little better. But she was still nervous.
The next morning more worries filled her head. Will I like my new class? Will I see my friends? But new thoughts came too. I can be brave. Heavenly Father will help me.
After school, Allie was happy.
“How was your day?” Mom asked.
“Great!” Allie said. She climbed into the car. “Miss Gregg is really nice. I saw Caitlin on the playground. And I got to make a goody bag!”
“That does sound like a good day,” Mom said.
Allie smiled. “Heavenly Father answered my prayer!”

After my husband passed away, loneliness enveloped me. A heaviness pressed on my chest. Each time I served in the celestial room, I prayed to find solace. Little by little, grief lifted, and peace crept into my heart as I began to see a celestial view of life. I now find it a privilege to see couples holding hands, friends embracing, and families gathered in a circle, enjoying the Spirit. Because of the Savior’s Atonement and my covenants, I know the blessing of a forever family will be mine in eternity.

In 1991 I received my patriarchal blessing and was instructed that I should be concerned about my deceased relatives and dedicate myself to them. I set a goal to do this, which led to daily discussions with my parents, who were not members of the Church. I often asked questions about my family, but my mother could tell me only about my grandparents.
One day my mother told me that Uncle Gilberto, my father’s brother, had suffered a heart attack. “I know he would love to talk with you,” my mother said. “He has a great memory, and he could give you a great deal of information about the family.”
When I called him at the nursing home where he was staying, his wife answered and told me that my uncle was doing poorly and couldn’t talk. I gave her my best wishes and told her that I would pray for them and their family.
The next day I called the nursing home again. To my surprise, my uncle answered the telephone.
“Uncle Gilberto!” I said. “I called to tell you that I have prayed fervently for your recovery and that I love you.”
“Thank you very much, Bibi,” he replied. “I woke up this morning feeling much better. Tell me what’s going on with you.”
I told him of my eagerness to know the names of family members who were from Arabia and Lebanon. My mother was right about my uncle’s memory. He knew names, dates, and places for four generations on my father’s side of the family.
When I hung up the phone, I felt that our conversation would be the last one we would share in this life. I was right. But the Lord had blessed us both so that I could obtain information I needed to unite our family—both now and in the eternities.