Gospel Story Finder

Davide and his family are converts to the Church. Before he was even baptized, Davide learned how important scripture study is. His brother was the first to be baptized, and his parents soon followed. Davide knew that he needed his own testimony. As he studied the Book of Mormon, he felt the Spirit. The good feelings he felt helped him make the decision to join the Church.

Four years later, Davide still relies on guidance from the Spirit. “We have to be constant. We can’t slack off in our scripture study and prayer,” he says.

As she grew older, Chan and I became pals. One day I was trying to teach her how to tie her shoelaces. I would show her how to do it and then untie them to let her try. After a while, we both got discouraged. It was hard for Chantel because she couldn’t understand why I didn’t just tie them so she could go play. I lost my patience and began talking to her with words that were both loud and mean. Shocked at my yelling, she looked at me with fright and tears in her eyes. Then she sniffled and pleaded with a soft, choked-up voice, “I love you.”
Now my little sister was teaching me. What I learned that day was something much more important than how to tie a shoe. Even though I was angry and mean, she still loved me. I had tried to teach Chantel something that wasn’t all that important. But in her I found a Christlike example to follow, an example of forgiveness and kindness.
I can’t think of a more important lesson.

When I was 14, my dad left our family, and my mom was forced to flee the country. I was left with my three younger siblings, Ephraim, 9; Jonathan, 6; and Grace, 3 (names have been changed). Nothing could have prepared us for this sudden change. For the first time, we were alone.

Extended family soon offered to take each of us in, but if we went to live with them, we would be separated. It was a difficult decision. How could we reject their well-intentioned help? But at the same time, how could we give up years of playing, laughing, caring for one another, and watching each other grow?

Initially, my brothers and I turned down their help, thinking I could work to support us and we could stay together. But we knew that we could not provide the care our youngest sister needed, and so, with tears in our eyes, we let her go.

For the next few months, I worked as a building painter to buy food for my brothers and me. My income was insufficient to pay the bills for electricity and water, so we had to live without them.

Despite this trial and the gossip of others that accompanied it, our faith didn’t waver. Every night, I would gather Ephraim and Jonathan around a lamp to read the Book of Mormon. I would trim the wick so that it would produce less smoke, but we would still have to clean our noses that had turned black by the time we finished reading. But it was worth it.

Reading the Book of Mormon brought us closer to Christ. After we read, we would kneel together and take turns saying our prayers. We asked for comfort for our problem that seemed to be without a solution. We finished reading the Book of Mormon, and our faith in Jesus Christ grew stronger.

Raiarii and his brothers liked helping Kali catch fish. One day Raiarii said, “Let’s pray that we can be safe and catch lots of fish.” That day Kali caught more fish than ever before! Kali decided to always pray before he goes fishing.

I attended a regional conference recently. The Sunday morning meeting was held in a large auditorium. On the front row, just below the stand, sat a group of beautiful girls. They were well-groomed—clean and lovely. They were vivacious and bright in their appearance. They were the very epitome of all that could be hoped for in young women. Some of them had their scriptures with them. All listened attentively to the speakers, and those with their books followed quotations cited by the speakers. It was evident that they were products of the seminary program as well as the other programs of the Church.
They had risen early that morning to travel far with their parents to be at the conference. They were there because they had learned to love the Lord and to enjoy the association of the Saints. They impressed me as representing what this marvelous work is all about (from New Era, Sept. 1988, 45–46).

Sometimes after an enjoyable family home evening, or during a fervent family prayer, or when our entire family is at the dinner table on Sunday evening eating waffles and engaging in a session of lively, good-natured conversation, I quietly say to myself, “If heaven is nothing more than this, it will be good enough for me.”

After I quit drugs, I turned to alcohol. I can honestly say I was a high school alcoholic. When I decided I wanted to quit, I couldn’t—at least not by myself. I didn’t care enough about myself to do what I knew I needed to do.
Then I became close friends with a good, active Latter-day Saint girl. She couldn’t understand what I was experiencing, but she did know I was honestly trying to get out of the mess I was in. It hurt her when I slipped back into my bad habits. I finally quit drinking because I knew it hurt her, and I knew I couldn’t lie to her.
Keeping my morals straight was so hard under my weakened condition that I avoided any social contacts with girls except with ones as good as my Latter-day Saint friend.

When heavy rains in southern Germany caused flooding so severe that many homes were underwater up to their rooftops, the Latter-day Saint youth in the area knew exactly what to do: they rolled up their sleeves and got to work. There certainly was plenty of work to go around.
Some youth helped directly with the aftermath of the flood. They swept away mud and helped clean out homes and gardens. Others worked to sort and distribute toys that had been donated for children affected by the flood.
The youth worked side-by-side with members of other faiths throughout the cleanup. “I felt the Spirit’s presence as we were serving,” says Nathaniel S., a young man who participated. “I know the reason the Spirit was there was because we were all unified as children of God helping each other.”

Not long after we joined the Church, my husband and I were vacationing in Bermuda. While there I took advantage one day of a midafternoon social held in our hotel. As I was eyeing the delicious pastries, I caught a whiff of the smell of tea. I found it so inviting that in my mind I seemed to hear a voice say, “Have a cup.”
I had faithfully lived the Word of Wisdom since my baptism. In my mind I said, “No, I will not.”
“Oh, come on,” a soothing voice seemed to say in reply. “You don’t know anybody here, and you are far from home.”
With even more conviction, I once again responded in my mind, “No, I will not!”
Again that enticing, reasoning voice came: “No one will ever know.”
Firmly I responded, “I will know!”
At that point I was standing by a waiter who was pouring tea. Resolutely I passed by. As I looked for a table, I was surprised to hear someone call out my name. To my amazement I saw the smiling face of a former boss whom I had not seen for many years. He came up to me, and as we walked toward a table he said, “I heard that you joined the Mormon Church. Tell me all about it.”
I was happy to oblige, sharing with him some principles of the gospel, my happiness as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and my testimony. My former boss told me that he had been researching his family name and that he had documented many generations of family history. He was sincerely interested in what I had to share about the Church, and I felt a great outpouring of the Spirit as we conversed.
During our visit a thought came into my mind: “Could you have had this conversation had you put a cup of tea on your tray?” I knew the answer. Had I given in to temptation, I would have missed out on a memorable spiritual experience and a chance to share my testimony.

As a student, I also got married. Then, when I had nearly completed my degree, I realized I didn’t really like what I was studying. I wanted to give up. But my wife said, “You cannot quit. You don’t know what the Lord has prepared for you, so you have to finish.”
I thought of Nephi once again. Despite being mistreated by his older brothers, he didn’t quit. Instead, Nephi looked to God and praised Him. “I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions,” he said. Eventually he was freed, and “it came to pass that I, Nephi, did guide the ship, that we sailed again towards the promised land.
“And it came to pass that after we had sailed for the space of many days, we did arrive at the promised land” (1 Nephi 18:16, 22–23).
Listening to my wife’s counsel, I finished my degree. But I began work in a different career field.

Illustrated by Val Chadwick Bagley“Two years ago when you first came home from your mission, I counseled you to be ‘anxiously engaged in a good cause.’ Now I just wish you were anxiously engaged.”

When Deborah learned of her son’s drug addiction, she was plagued by feelings of guilt as she thought about how she could have been a better mother. Then she discovered that she could apply the steps to herself. She says, “What I learned in the program is that no matter how my son is doing, I can still be happy and have Heavenly Father in my life.” She adds, “On the outside I look the same, but my life has completely changed on the inside.”

Tom Ransom, presently a deacon in the Heather Ridge Ward of the Arapahoe Colorado Stake, was named the Most Valuable Player of the AAU National Championship Baseball Tournament in the 12-year-olds category. Tom participated in the national tournament with his team from Taylorsville, Utah, prior to moving with his parents to Colorado. Tom pitched a shutout in the championship game.

I worked for a manager who I felt was rude and who hated me also. I, too, wanted to be Christian and have love for everyone, but there are some people that no matter what you do, they will still try to knock you down. In my case, I tried and tried to be as nice as possible. I did everything my manager asked and more, but she never was any nicer to me. Finally, I realized that it was impossible to make her happy, so I quit. Now that I am away from her, I am able to forgive her and genuinely feel sorry for her.
James Yoder, 20Belleville, Illinois

While I was on my mission, I met an unknown hero. Living an ordinary life, whose neighbours had no idea whom they were living next to.
We knocked on his door, one of 40 houses in the estate. There was no answer, but we continued knocking. Even when we moved on, I could not get my mind off his house. I did not know why. In one of the last houses, we spoke to a lady who was responsible for the supply of wine in her own church but was finding it hard to keep up with the increase in consumption. As I looked out the window, my mind was drawn to the house at no. 5, so I asked her if she knew who lived there. She told us not to go there. The man living there did not speak to anybody and would often smell of alcohol. I asked if he was angry or violent. She said no, and that he was just a quiet man who kept to himself.
We thanked her for her time and left. Again, I felt drawn to no 5. So, we returned and knocked once more. At first there was no answer. On the second try, the door finally opened, and a gentlemanly looking man greeted us and introduced himself as Bill. We said we had a message we would like to share with him, and he invited us in.
We asked Bill about his life. As we listened, we noticed all the pictures he had on the wall of various aircraft and people. He explained that he was a pilot during World War II. The pictures were mostly of the aircrafts he flew and of him together with his crew. While he talked, we could see that these memories were very special to him.
As we asked more about his service in World War II, he produced a medal, together with a letter from the royal family thanking him for his service. He explained that the medal was for flying the highest number of missions over enemy territory. At that moment, we were taken aback. We suddenly realised that a true hero stood before us. He was such a humble man who only claimed that he had done his duty.
We listened for a couple of hours and were educated about what it was like to be a young pilot. From being shot at most days, to coping with friends dying. All while continuing to serve.
As we asked what happened after the war, and he told us he had returned to his home, but his wife and children were no longer there. It had been hard for her to wait, and her departure hit him hard. He continued to live on his own ever since. He said we were the first real visitors he had in many years.
I asked Bill if he believed in God, and he did. I asked him if he wanted a blessing and he agreed. It was a very tender and responsible moment to give him a blessing that God had not forgotten him, that God understands, and that he will be blessed in the life hereafter.
He thanked us deeply for coming and said we were an answer to his prayers. We hugged, with tears in our eyes, and promised to be back.
As I stood outside his house, I looked around on the estate feeling like I wanted everyone to know what a special neighbour they had. But immediately I got the feeling, “God knows”.
Every year when it is Remembrance Day, I always remember Bill, and the huge sacrifice he made, so that we can all live in peace, and have the freedom we enjoy. I also learned to never judge someone but instead seek to help them.

From the days of our earliest childhood, our mother was there to make sure we were appropriately dressed for all occasions. With five daughters this took some doing. If we had on pants when a dress was required, she would make us change. When one of us was wearing a cute new outfit that we thought should not be covered up by a coat no matter how cold it was, she would still insist that all of us wear a coat. She always dressed appropriately herself, and she made sure we did too.
Mom had spent her life teaching each of us not just how to dress but also how to live. She shared her insights about the joy of the gospel and her testimony of the importance of the temple. She made it clear that she hoped we would each come to understand the effect of temple ordinances on our eternal happiness.
Then came the day when we had to gather to dress Mom for burial. She had left this world for the next, after teaching us all she had been given time to teach us. This was our opportunity to show our devotion to her, our gratitude for the principles she instilled into our hearts.
This time it was our job to make sure she was appropriately dressed.
When we came into the room where Mom was to be dressed for burial, her lifeless body looked empty. The warmth of her spirit was gone, replaced by the coldness of death. As her daughters and some of her granddaughters encircled her, we honored the life of this grand lady, wanting to show her, one last time, our gratitude for the blessing she had been in our lives.
We were now six daughters: Leah, Heather, Gaylene, Lori, Melinda, and daughter-in-law Adrianne. The six of us formed a tight circle around Mom. Then our own daughters created a second ring around us. These two circles brought to mind the ripple of love created by her life. Because of her influence and the righteous choices of her descendants, the blessings of temple covenants would ripple throughout generations, ever expanding the blessings of priesthood covenants.
Her daughters would prepare her for burial. We carefully covered her cold body with the warmth of the robes of the temple. Each ribbon was tied carefully; slippers slipped on; effort made to ensure that all the clothing was correctly in place. The last thing to do was to tie a final bow. As we did so, making sure that it was tied as nicely as we could, a memory came to each of our minds—she had tied that bow for each of us the first time we had entered the temple. As we tied hers for the last time, we were now symbolically giving back to her, with eternal gratitude, the gift of temple blessings.
As we looked at her, we were each filled with a feeling of warmth. No longer did the cold chill of death surround her. She looked beautiful. It was easy to imagine her in heaven, encircled there by those she loved, eager to return to her Heavenly Father.
As I left the room, it occurred to me that I had now lived through the time of life when I could care for my mother. She had endured to the end. She had aged faithfully and blessed her posterity through her example. I hoped and prayed that I could do the same and that one day I could leave a similar legacy for my daughters and granddaughters.

When an LDS member is the host and needs to offer a toast, the problem is more conspicuous. I solved the problem successfully for the first time in Paraguay, and used that formula from then on. At a major banquet in which I had to offer a toast to the president of the country, to his cabinet ministers, and to Paraguay as our host country, I decided to use water. In Paraguay one of the bank’s clients was the new municipal water system, which for the first time in that country’s history produced a pure, fine-tasting uncontaminated water. At the appropriate time, I lifted my champagne glass full of water and announced to the assembled important people, “I don’t know what you have in your glasses, but in mine I have the purest of liquids—water from the municipal water system of Asuncion—and I lift my glass in a cordial toast to his Excellency, the President,” etc., etc. The compliment was sincere, and it worked very well. They laughed, and no one ever forgot that “Mormon Toast.”

On June 7, 1844, a group of dissenters, including several prominent Church members who had apostatized, published the first issue of the Nauvoo Expositor. This newspaper denounced Joseph Smith as a “fallen prophet,” a political demagogue, an immoral scoundrel, and a financial schemer. It accused Mormonism of promoting such activities and it maligned other individuals. Those attacked by the paper included several members of the Nauvoo City Council as well as the new mayor, Joseph Smith. After lengthy discussion, the council decided the libelous newspaper violated public nuisance laws. They voted to stop the paper before it aroused anti-Mormon mobs. Therefore, the city marshal destroyed the press, scattered the type, and burned available papers.
Owners of the paper then charged the city council with fomenting a riot (even though the destruction of the paper had been accomplished in orderly fashion). Council members were arrested and went through court proceedings which eventually legally acquitted them. But before this procedure could take place, anti-Mormon newspapers stirred up such a commotion that Joseph Smith mobilized the Nauvoo Legion and placed the city under martial law. Illinois Governor Thomas Ford was informed of the controversial actions and personally investigated. He obtained pledges that both sides would observe strict legality and nonviolence. Ford traveled to Carthage, Illinois, the county seat, to conduct negotiations between the opposing parties, and decided a trial would be the best solution.
The fifteen men named in the riot charge presented themselves at Carthage on June 25, where a justice of the peace freed them on bonds pending trial. Later that evening Joseph and Hyrum Smith were served an improperly issued writ charging them with “treason” for declaring martial law in Nauvoo. It was enforced without a hearing and the two were held in Carthage Jail. John Taylor, Willard Richards, and others accompanied them to jail.
On June 26 Governor Ford visited the Prophet in jail and was satisfied that the city council’s action and mobilization of the Legion had been taken for legal procedures. Ford left two companies of the anti-Mormon Carthage Greys (the local militia) to guard the jail. Although he promised to take the prisoners with him if he visited Nauvoo, the governor ignored this promise and left for the city of the Saints on the morning of June 27.
At Carthage, June 27, 1844, a body of men daubed their faces with mud and gunpowder, rushed the jail, and quickly overpowered the cooperative guards, who had agreed in advance to load their guns without balls. The mob rushed upstairs to the jailer’s sleeping room where the four Latter-day Saint leaders waited. Shots punctured the thin bedroom door. Hyrum Smith was the first to fall mortally wounded. John Taylor was struck from the doorway and from shots fired through the window. Seriously injured, he rolled under a bed to safety. Joseph Smith ran to the window. He was struck by two balls from the open door, another from outside the window. He was struck by a fourth ball as he plunged through the window. The attackers rushed outside to assure themselves that the Prophet was dead, leaving Willard Richards, still behind the door, uninjured. Someone shouted that a posse of Mormons was coming. The rumor was untrue, but the mobs fled.
They had killed the Prophet, believing that his death would mean the end of Mormonism. But members of the church recognized Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum, the Patriarch to the Church, as martyrs to the Lord’s cause. Faithful members reaffirmed their belief in the ultimate triumph of the latter-day work restored through the Prophet. Joseph Smith had risen from obscurity to national renown, and the Saints believed that his name would be “had for good and evil among all nations,” (JS—H 1:33) as promised by Moroni. They thus set about the task of carrying forward a sacred mission that had only just begun.

Among them was President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008), who introduced the Perpetual Education Fund (PEF), patterned after another of Brigham Young’s 19th-century initiatives, the Perpetual Emigration Fund. This new educational fund would become, in the words of President Thomas S. Monson, one of the hallmarks of President Hinckley’s administration.1 President Hinckley had seen poverty and lack of education and training prevent many young adults in the Church from achieving their potential. He sought the Lord for answers.
In general conference on March 31, 2001, President Hinckley announced his vision for the program. He conceded that it was a “bold initiative” but held that “education is the key to opportunity.”2 President Hinckley invited all who wished to contribute to do so, and the program was underway.
Now, 10 years later, contributions large and small from donors worldwide have allowed the initiative—and its participants—to thrive. Elder John K. Carmack, emeritus member of the Seventy and Executive Director of PEF, says it is “rescuing the Saints from the curse of poverty.” It has been successful in that rescue, says Rex Allen, volunteer director of training and communications for PEF, because it is established on eternal principles and comes with prophetic promises that have “an impact more far-reaching than any of us understand.”

Saturday is a market day across the world. In the countryside of Ghana, in Ecuador, and in the Philippine Islands, countless people bring the produce of their farms and their handicrafts to a town to sell. They talk with those they meet on the road. And they visit with those near them as they wait for someone to buy. Much of the talk is about the struggles of existence, of breaking out of poverty, and sometimes about danger.
Among those on the roads and in the markets are Latter-day Saints. Much of their talk with those they meet would be the same as you would hear anywhere in the world. “Where are you from?” “Is that your son with you?” “How many children do you have?” But there will be a difference in the Latter-day Saints. It would be noticeable in their eyes as much as in their words. They listen carefully with the look of someone who cares about the answers to questions and who cares about the person.
If the conversation lasts more than a few minutes, it would turn to things that matter deeply to both of them. They would talk of what they believe brings happiness and what brings sadness. And the talk would turn to hopes for this life and the next. The Latter-day Saint would express quiet assurance. Not every time, but sometimes, the Latter-day Saint would be asked, “Why are you so much at peace?” “How do you know these things you say you know?”
And then there would come a quiet answer. Perhaps it would be about Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, appearing to the young boy Joseph Smith. It might be about the resurrected Savior’s loving ministry, as described in the Book of Mormon, to common people who had faith in Him and who loved Him as we do.