Gospel Story Finder

“I always take the Book of Mormon with me on business trips,” says Pedro, who presides over the Praia Second Branch. Both well educated, he and his wife work at a state-run food-supply and construction company. Once, while on a business trip to the northern island of Santo Antão, Pedro went two and a half hours out of his way to introduce the Book of Mormon to someone who had accidentally dialed the Semedos’ phone number a week earlier.

In a country where the vast majority of the population is under 25 years old, youth and young adults make up a large proportion of Church membership. Evening classes in seminary and institute in each of the major cities help build momentum for the gospel and entourage many youths to prepare for missions. Under the leadership of energetic teachers like Milena Sa Nogueira, more than 400 students have participated in the gospel-study programs since those programs began in January 1993.

“I used to teach my children the gospel,” says Milena, a widow and mother of five who was baptized in May 1992. “Now, my children teach me.” Milena has held family home evening every week since her baptism, and today she serves as District Young Women president in Praia. Early in 1995 she helped organize shipments of food and clothing when a volcano exploded on the island of Fogo and displaced more than 1,000 people.

Because marriage has never been a strong religious or social tradition in Cape Verde, many mothers and fathers who want to join the Church must first get married. For example, Claudimire and Margarida Cardosa, merchants at Praia’s open-air market, lived together for 26 years before their oldest of eight children, 19-year-old KaiuKa, joined the Church. Three other siblings accepted the gospel before Claudimire and Margarida decided to join the Church in June 1993. Before they were baptized, they were joined as a couple in a marriage ceremony at Praia’s civil registry.

In July 1994 President Aníbal Moreira, who is a bank administrator and president of the Praia District, and his wife, Maria do Rosario (Zézá), traveled to the Washington Temple in Washington, D.C., and became the first Cape Verdean couple to be sealed in a temple. Other marriages, too, reflect a strong commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Citing more than 80 marriages and baptisms similar to the Cardosas’, President Antonio Mascarenhas, president of the Republic of Cape Verde, recently honored the Church for helping strengthen family life. Other government leaders have publicly admired Church members’ emphasis on self-reliance and caring for neighbors. As President Moreira puts it, “In the pages of the history of Cape Verde, historians will speak highly about the Latter-day Saints.”

I was really excited to go to the temple and do baptisms.
At first it was hard. I was worried about what the older girls would think about me. I was a little nervous until we all went to the temple together. That’s when we became good friends.
It was very special. Going inside the temple of the Lord was a spiritual experience. I’ve always wanted to go to the temple. In Primary we sang, “I love to see the temple. I’m going there someday.” Now I can say, “I love to go to the temple.”
That first time in the temple, I did baptisms for some of my aunts, some relatives of my grandmother (my mom’s mom), and other people I didn’t know. The temple and family history are part of my testimony.

As a young woman, I came to downtown Salt Lake one wintery day. I had parked in front of the Church Administration Building and was just putting a nickel in the meter when I noticed a man leaving the building. He wore a dark overcoat and a wool hat. But he had something more: a spirit that stirred my soul. I could not take my eyes off him, and as he descended the steps, I suddenly realized he was President David O. McKay. He said nothing as he passed me; he merely smiled gently and tipped his hat. The Spirit literally filled my being. I knew I had seen a prophet of God.
Not everyone will have the opportunity to see a prophet face-to-face. Fortunately, that isn’t necessary. We can all receive the same witness I did on those steps long ago. More important than seeing a prophet is understanding the message he has for us. Applying that message is a sure way to gain a testimony of his holy calling.

When Rakotomalala became interested in the gospel, the nearest church was in Antsirabe, a city 30 miles (50 km) from his village in Sarodroa. Rakotomalala and a friend found a way to make the journey each Sunday.
I wanted to attend church, but I had no money for the bus. I talked to my friend, Razafindravaonasolo, and she said we could ride my bike. We rode two hours one way from Sarodroa to Antsirabe every Sunday. When I would get tired of pedaling, I would ride on the back and she would start pedaling. Then when she got tired, we would switch places again.
Eventually, Razafindravaonasolo’s family and I joined the Church. We attended church in Antsirabe until a branch opened in Sarodroa. We were so happy when we could attend church in our own village!

A young man returning from his mission shared his experience with faith. He acknowledged it as a miracle in his life. He said: “I was the first of six children born to my parents. My mother and father taught me when I was young the principles of the gospel. Faith was taught through the example of both my mother and father. When I was only 10 years old, my father, this great example of trusting the Lord, was killed in an accident. I was young and had many feelings to deal with that were new to me.” This young man said he realized that he had two choices available to him: “I could have become bitter towards the Lord and lost all that I now have, or I could trust the Lord. Because of the example of my parents, trust was the path I chose. Choosing faith has made all of the difference.”

One day I sat with a handsome, young, prospective missionary as he poured out his sad story through sobs of sorrow, anguish, and remorse. I wanted to cry with him. Pressured by his so-called friends, he found himself at a mixed party where liquor was served. Against everything he knew to be right, he succumbed to the taunts and jeers of all those present, became drunk, and before the evening was over, lost his virtue.

Unable to resist the peer pressure he faced, his resolution to stay chaste being dissipated by the circumstances he found himself in, he had seen his lifelong dream of a mission and a temple marriage change to a nightmare—and now he felt ashamed, unclean, unworthy.

“Have I forfeited my opportunity for a mission, for marriage in the temple?” he asked. “How can my Father in Heaven forgive me for what I have done? I wish the earth would open up and swallow me!” My heart ached for him.

Almost overriding my sympathy for him was the anger I felt toward those who had led him down that “primrose path,” seemingly oblivious to the pain they had caused, listening to Satan’s siren song that chastity is outdated.

The full force of his actions was obvious to my tearful friend, who understood, at last, the reality of Alma’s words: “Wickedness never was happiness.” (Alma 41:10.)

My first year in middle school I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to find friends who would respect my standards. After a short time I became good friends with a classmate, and I told him that I was a Mormon. He asked me about it, so I gave him a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet. Starting that day, he quit swearing in front of me. If your friends are true friends, they will respect your decisions and help you maintain your standards.
Candela M., 13, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Another early African pioneer is Anthony Obinna of Nigeria. He relates that one night in the late 1960s “I was sleeping and a tall man came to me [in a dream], took me to one of the most beautiful buildings, and showed me all the rooms.” In 1970 he read an article in an old Reader’s Digest titled “The March of the Mormons,” which included a picture of the Salt Lake Temple. “It was exactly the same building I had seen in my dream,” he said. Brother Obinna wrote to the Church for LDS literature.

In 1978, when the Obinna family learned of the revelation on the priesthood, they wrote to the First Presidency: “We are happy for the many hours in the upper rooms of the temple you spent supplicating the Lord to bring us into the fold. We thank our Heavenly Father for hearing your prayers and ours.”

When the missionaries arrived in Nigeria, they found many people prepared for the gospel as a result of Brother Obinna’s teaching and leadership. The first LDS chapel built in Nigeria is near the Obinnas’ home in Aboh Mbaise.

Until I was married, I had never heard of Mormons. My grandmother was concerned with my religious upbringing, so she used to read the Bible to me. I grew up as a member of a Protestant church. However, I always thought that the minister did not explain things about Heavenly Father very well.
My father thought that I should make up my own mind and choose my own religion. As I became older, I searched a lot to find the true church. My sister was in the Catholic church and wanted me to join it, but I didn’t understand their beliefs. The same thing happened when I was eighteen years old and learned about the Christian Science church—I didn’t understand their beliefs either.
I always had certain questions that no one could answer, such as: “Where was I before I was born?” and “What is the meaning of life?” Since joining the Church, I’ve learned about the plan of salvation, which answered all my questions.

I came to understand that situation in a very real way. If I may share with you some personal feelings: During the time that President Kimball was ill, President Tanner’s health failed and he passed away. President Romney was called as First Counselor, and I as Second Counselor to President Kimball. Then President Romney became ill, thus leaving to me an almost overwhelming burden of responsibility. I counseled frequently with my Brethren of the Twelve, and I cannot say enough of appreciation to them for their understanding and for the wisdom of their judgment. In matters where there was a well-established policy, we moved forward. But no new policy was announced or implemented, and no significant practice was altered without sitting down with President Kimball and laying the matter before him and receiving his full consent and full approval.
In such circumstances when I would go to visit him, I always took a secretary who kept a detailed record of the conversation. I can assure you, my beloved brethren, that I never knowingly moved ahead of my file leader, that I never had any desire to move out ahead of him in Church policy or instruction. I knew that he was the appointed prophet of the Lord in that day. Even though I, too, had been sustained as a prophet, seer, and revelator, along with my Brethren of the Twelve, I knew also that none of us was the President of the Church. I knew that the Lord prolonged the life of President Kimball for purposes known to the Lord, and I had perfect faith that this prolonging of life was for a reason under the wisdom of Him who has greater wisdom than any man.

Recently at the funeral of a friend, I visited with two distinguished brothers—former surgical colleagues of mine—whose lovely companions had both passed away. They said they were going through the most difficult period of their lives, adjusting to the almost unbearable loss of their partners. These wonderful men then told of their cooking breakfast for each other once a week, sharing that rotation with their sister, trying to lessen their loneliness imposed by the doors of death.

It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, okay, maybe it was a sunny afternoon.
Whenever it was, somebody sneaked up outside the window of James B. Young’s dormitory room on the Ricks College campus. They pulled out a roll of masking tape. Then cautiously, they formed letters—backwards—on the window, so that when Jamie opened the curtains in the morning, he would read the words the right way. This was their message:
“We Love U.”
All of which brings us back to the masked message taped on Jamie’s window one dark and stormy night.
“We Love U,” it said.
If James Brigham Young has anything to say about it, that may well become the official nickname for Ricks College.

The young men working on the nature trail learned important design principles as they tried to clear away some of the undergrowth and trees so a person walking on the trail could see other foliage. At first when the nature trail crew looked at the solid wall of green before them, they came back to Brother Kamauoha and told him they did not know what to cut and what to leave.
“I told them this was their responsibility and I wasn’t doing their thinking for them. Then I asked them, ‘When you are in your fale (Samoan house) and the pola (woven blinds) are down, what do you do when you want to see out?’ And they said, ‘We move the pola aside so we can see.’
“After learning this principle, they cut away some of the trees and undergrowth and created beautiful natural windows where students could come and study the plant life or just walk and think.”

The Lord is constantly dealing with his children in terms of their needs, not their wants. This is pretty hard doctrine for any of us, and it was especially hard for our teenage daughter. Being elected to a leadership position at her high school seemed to be the most important need of her life. She had worked and prepared for several months. “Oh, Mother, I’m praying so hard to win. The Lord says you can ask for any righteous desire of your heart and this is mine.” It seemed a reasonable request to us too. She had a testimony of the gospel and was socially popular in a large high school. We thought she would be a good influence for the Church.
When the voting time finally arrived, it seemed certain that she would be one of the winners. She was absolutely crushed when she lost! It was only by a few votes—but she lost!
The very next month she was asked to be one of the high school seminary officers. All of the seminary council had made personal sacrifices to serve. The seminary president had been asked to give up running for student body president; this was a hard decision for him. They said they really needed our daughter’s creativity and missionary talents to attract people, and this year was a very important one for the growth and development of the seminary program.
That year she had many spiritual experiences. She developed deep, meaningful friendships and was helpful in bringing several people into Church activity.
Later she told me that she gradually came to an understanding of herself through prayer and study of the scriptures. “I wanted to win that election more than anything else, but the Lord knew I needed this other experience more. I needed more spiritual growth. It was a hard experience, but I know in my heart it was right.”

Peter Burt was born in 1949 in Napier, New Zealand, and grew up in the nearby city of Gisborne. He was only 14—a student at Lytton High School—when his family suffered a devastating loss: Peter’s father died from a fall while painting their family home.
“Losing my dad at such an early age was absolutely tragic,” he recalls. What made the experience more heartbreaking is that, growing up atheist, he had no concept of an afterlife. Years later, Elder Neal A. Maxwell’s (1926–2004) general conference messages helped Peter understand how profound his grief was at the time. “A resurrection-less view of life produces only proximate hope.”1
With no knowledge of God or His plan, Peter remembers, “My philosophy of life was, eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. Thankfully, I now know better—infinitely better!”

Amauri pushed the bicycle up the long hill. At the top was a small Catholic church with a little building behind where the padres lived. In back of this building was a little shack that Amauri’s family called home. “Mamãe (Mother)!” he called out when he neared his house, and his mother appeared at the door.
“Where have you been, Amauri?” she asked, her back still bent from the day’s work of cleaning in the tall office building downtown. Then she saw the bicycle. “What do you have there, Amauri?” she asked, and her eyes looked worried.
“A bicicleta (bicycle), Mamãe,” Amauri answered.
“Where did you get it?” his mother questioned again, and Amauri knew that she was afraid he had stolen it, because many of the poor people in their neighborhood sometimes stole things to get money to buy food. Amauri’s mother was grateful that her five children didn’t steal.
“A man gave it to me, Mother,” Amauri answered proudly. “I’m going to be a delivery boy! I’ll ride the bicycle from place to place, delivering lunches to the businessmen and groceries to the ladies in fine houses!”
“You mean you have a job?” And Amauri’s mother smiled with joy.
Amauri told her about how he had walked up to a man and said, “Do you need a boy to work for you?” The man had thought for a few moments and then invited him inside his store. They talked for a while, and he told Amauri that he would pay him fifty centavos an hour.
“How many hours will you work?” his mother asked.
“Eight hours every day,” Amauri answered. “That means I will get four cruzeiros a day or more than twenty cruzeiros a week. I can buy food for the family!”
Amauri hugged his mother and she hugged him back. “What a good nine-year-old son I have,” she said gratefully. “Now you are truly the man of the family. Ever since your father died I have been the only one earning money. Now you will help me buy beans and rice for our breakfast and dinner. Enough talking for now, son. Remember, the elders are coming tonight, and we must get the house ready.”
Amauri got water from the well, and his little sister Cecilia cooked the beans and rice for dinner. The other children made the two beds they all slept on, while Mother carefully swept the cold, hard-packed dirt floor.
When the missionaries came, they stood outside the door and clapped their hands together, because that is the way people announce themselves in Brazil. Cecilia ran to open the door.
“Boa noite, elderes (Good evening, elders),” she said. “Come in.”
The tall elders shook hands with everybody. Elder Samson was blond and showed many teeth when he smiled. Elder Bonner had red hair and freckles all over, even on his arms. Although they were Americans, they spoke Portuguese, but sometimes it was hard to understand them.
The elders and Amauri and his family sat on boxes around the table, and then the elders told them all about the commandments of God, including one that asked them to give the Church one-tenth of all the money they earned. Mother was thoughtful when the elders told her this, because she barely made enough money to feed the family. But then she smiled. “Of course,” she said. “That is why little Amauri got a job today. We can pay tithing to the Lord and still have enough to eat.”
Amauri felt very proud to tell the missionaries about his job. “Who knows?” Amauri said, “maybe someday I will deliver a lunch right to the building where my mother works.”
“But what about school?” asked Elder Samson.
“School is not for poor people,” said Amauri’s mother sadly. “We do not have the money to buy books.”
And then Amauri remembered something awful. His face turned white. “What’s wrong, Amauri?” the elders asked.
“I just remembered,” Amauri said. “I only have three days to learn how to ride the bicycle.”
“What?” asked Elder Bonner, surprised. “Nine years old and you don’t know how to ride a bicycle?”
Amauri shook his head. “We are too poor to have a bicycle. Now I will have to learn before Thursday. How can I learn that fast?”
Everyone looked worried now. Learning to ride a bicycle wasn’t easy.
Then Elder Bonner said he had an idea. “We will teach you how to ride!” he shouted, and Elder Samson nodded in agreement.
The next morning the missionaries came back. They could hardly wait to get Amauri out of bed and onto his bicycle.
It was harder than Amauri had thought it would be. He fell down again and again. Even on a grassy field it hurt to fall, but he kept thinking: The Lord got me this job so that my family can pay tithing. And I’m going to get back on that bicycle.
The next day Amauri rode for ten meters all by himself before the bicycle started to tip over, then he stopped it from falling by sticking out his foot. At the end of the riding lesson he told the elders, “It’s time for me to go home. And you’ll have to hurry—I’m going to ride this bicycle all the way back home. And I’m going to ride it very fast.”
Amauri got on the bicycle and pedaled as fast as his legs would go, the elders behind him shouting and cheering him on. When he arrived home, Cecilia and the other children ran out of the house laughing and clapping their hands.
“Como Deus me abencoe (How God is blessing me)!” he shouted to the elders when they came into the house. “First a job, and now you have helped me learn to ride a bicycle so I can do it well!”
The elders just laughed and shook his hand. And then the children hugged him in their excitement.
The next day was Thursday, and Amauri rode the bicycle all alone downtown to the store. He took the lunches and delivered them, and later took fresh meat to housewives and cabbages to restaurants. He was exhausted when nighttime came.
When he got home he tied the bicycle to a tree. Then he knelt beside it and said a prayer, thanking Heavenly Father for his help. When he was through he patted the bicycle seat.
“Oi, bicicleta (Hey, bicycle), que amigo você é (you and I are going to be good friends)!”

“Putting on the Whole Armor of God, Raft-Style” was the theme of a high adventure activity in which nearly 50 young women and 20 adults were divided into “raft families” and floated the Green River in southern Utah.
In preparation for the rafting experience, safety lessons were presented as metaphors taken from Ephesians 6:10–18. Life vests represented the “breastplate of righteousness,” sunscreen represented the “shield of faith,” and the oars of the rafts represented the “sword of the Spirit” and reminded the youth of the direction we’re given by the scriptures and counsel from prophets.
During the second and final river run, the temperatures dropped and the river became shrouded in mist, much like the “mist of darkness” spoken of in Lehi’s dream (see 1 Nephi 8:23–24). The youth were reminded that protection comes as we hold fast to gospel truths and we are able to safely get to our destination. One Laurel said of that final run, “I have never been so cold and tired in my life, but I have never had so much fun.” One of the bishop’s counselors said, “Not only was this a great activity, but it was also so spiritual, even while we floated the river. This is an experience that the participants will never forget.”

Sister Portlock sent a copy of the book with Bruce’s testimony to her granddaughter Sherry Siekert in Wisconsin. And a little while later, Sister Portlock got a call from Sherry asking Brother Portlock to come out and baptize her.
“I had been brought up hearing about the Mormons but not knowing anything about them,” said Sherry. “When I got the book, I started to read it—I’ve no idea what made me open the book. I just did. Two elders had come by before and left a pamphlet in the house, and I read it. Maybe that’s one reason I started to read the book.
“After I talked to the missionaries a while, I called my father in Chicago and said, ‘It all sounds so good to me. It’s like everything I’ve always wanted to know all my life.’ My father’s interested in the Church now, too.”
The gospel has had a great impact in Sherry’s life. “I don’t feel like I have to go out and do a lot of wild things to have fun. Fun is being with good friends and family now. I appreciate them more, and I’m not afraid of death anymore. I work in a nursing home, and when I see people dying, I feel like they’re going to something better. I’ve also found that if you stand by your standards and don’t let your peers pressure you into things you know are wrong, they’ll respect you more than if you’d just gone along. This last year since I’ve been baptized has been great.”

“From infancy I had enjoyed the simplified and pictured Bible stories, but the original Bible seemed so interminable in length, so difficult of understanding that I had avoided it until a challenge came to me [as a teenager attending stake conference. The speaker] gave a discourse on the value of reading the Bible. In conclusion she asked for a showing of hands of all who had read it through. The hands that were raised out of the large congregation were so few and so timid! … I was shocked into an unalterable determination to read the great book.
“As soon as I reached home after the meeting I began with the first verse of Genesis and continued faithfully every day with the reading.
“What a satisfaction it was to me [a year later] to realize I had read the Bible through from beginning to end! And what exultation of spirit! …
“I commend it to you” (“What I Read as a Boy,” Children’s Friend, November 1943, 508).

It is a cold, rainy day in Finland. My companion is sick. We have to stay in our apartment because of his illness, and we have been here for several days. As I was standing looking out our window early this morning, I was overcome by a deep sense of emptiness and discouragement. It is a feeling that can come sometimes to missionaries in lands such as Finland where an elder finds himself seemingly buried under a pile of harsh circumstances: preaching the gospel to people who are usually unreceptive, fighting temperatures of -35° C. on a bicycle, and trying to master the unbelievable Finnish language with its incredible grammar. Add to this an absence of members for miles and miles, and it all combines to give missionaries an occasional feeling of isolation.
Well, as I was standing there looking out the window, I was struck with the thought that I should go and read some old issues of the New Era that were stacked in my closet. When I started reading, the day seemed to get better and better. The articles were so uplifting and full of spiritual strength for a mind that needed a lift. The feelings I received as the Spirit bore witness to me that I was reading the words of a living prophet, real apostles, and men chosen by the Lord were so strong, I just wanted to cry for joy. After three days of reading and studying several issues of the New Era, I can more clearly see why things are the way they are. The gospel gives us so many things to experience and ways to progress toward our eventual goal of perfection. The New Era contains such a vast amount of advice and help from those who have more knowledge and experience, and I’m so grateful that I can receive that advice even though I’m so many thousands of miles from home. Thank you so much for making the words of the General Authorities available to us.