Gospel Story Finder

When I heard that Mama, Papa, and I were going to California with a whole shipload of Latter-day Saints, I was excited and couldn’t wait for the trip to begin. The minute I saw the Brooklyn anchored in the East River, my heart started banging in my chest. Everything a company could possibly need in a new settlement was lugged on board and stowed in the hold.
On Wednesday, February 4, 1846, after several delays, the ship was finally ready to leave New York. We waved good-bye to the friends and relatives who had gathered on the dock, and were soon on our way on the cold, gray, rough Atlantic Ocean.
No one had warned me that I might be seasick, and I never imagined that someone could die at sea! A raging storm was the farthest thing from my mind—but the terrors of the trip started right away.
One morning, Papa and I watched from the deck as the sky darkened and a strong gust of wind whipped by. Seamen suddenly appeared on the run, shouting instructions to each other. They scrambled up the masts and began taking down the sails. The captain came out of his cabin and told all passengers to go below. “We might be in for a bit of a blow,” he said. “You’ll be safer in your rooms.”
We lurched along, fighting to stay upright. I’d just eaten breakfast, and my stomach felt squeamish.
When we got to the cabin, Mama had already climbed into the bunk and was hanging on so tightly that her knuckles were white. Our belongings had been tossed into a tangled heap on the floor. The furniture slid in one direction, then another, mashing things together as the ship tipped back and forth in the rough water.
Something was banging up on the deck.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“They’re battening down the hatches,” Papa said.
“Battening?”
“Fastening canvas across the stairways by nailing on narrow strips of wood called battens.”
“You mean they’re nailing us in?” I felt all smothery just thinking about it. I never could stand to be in tight places. The thudding of the hammers overhead made me feel as if I were in a coffin with the lid being nailed down. “How can we get out?” I shouted in a panic.
“We can’t,” Papa answered, pushing me into the bottom berth just before a heavy chest skidded into me, “but the water can’t get in, either. That’s the idea.”
“What if I get sick?” I felt more and more like I was going to every minute.
“There’s the chamber pot,” Mama said.
“They’ll probably leave the hatchway to the captain’s cabin open,” Papa said. “He may need to come down for some reason, and it’s not exposed to the storm like the ones on the deck.”
Even though I knew that the captain’s hatchway was not for the use of the passengers, I felt better knowing that there was a possible way to get out.
All the lamps were extinguished except two in the hall. I hated the darkness.
The dim lights flickered as the tempest blustered and roared. I heard thundering thumps as huge waves crashed over the deck. I felt each upward thrust as the Brooklyn was lifted high on the surging crests. My breath was sucked out of me just as if I’d been punched in the stomach when the ship then dropped deep into the following yawning troughs of the wild and angry sea. The tired timbers of the old ship groaned and creaked as if they were splitting apart.
Babies screamed. Children cried out. The sick groaned for help. Mothers soothed and sang or joked or scolded. Men’s voices could be heard above the others, some impatient, some comforting.
“Don’t forget,” one brother said reverently, “that Jesus Christ stilled the storm on the Sea of Galilee.” We prayed and sang hymns—louder and louder as the storm’s fury increased.
The fire in the stove had been doused, so no food could be cooked. It didn’t matter—no one on that rocking, rolling ship wanted to eat, anyway. Almost everyone was seasick.
The storm raged and roared all day. When night came, Papa tied us in our berths so that we wouldn’t be tossed about like beans in a bag. I slept little, hoping and praying for the storm to end. It didn’t. It got worse.
By morning, water was outside our door.
“How’d it get here?” I asked Papa.
“It must have come down the captain’s hatchway. It either washed through his cabin—or his cabin’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“A storm like this could shatter it or sweep it right off the deck.”
“The captain too?”
“It’s possible,” Papa said. “But I doubt it.”
“Neither my cabin nor I have been swept away yet, lad,” Captain Richardson said, appearing behind Papa, “but I’m here to speak seriously to all the passengers.”
The singing stopped immediately.
“My friends,” he began, “there is a time in every man’s life when it is fitting that he should prepare to die. That time has come to us, for unless God interposes, we shall all go to the bottom. I have done all in my power, but this is the worst gale I have ever known since I have been master of a ship.”
One man replied, “Captain Richardson, we were sent to California. We shall get there.”
Another said, “Captain, I have no more fear than though we were on solid land.”
The captain shook his head in disbelief at their calmness. As he left, he muttered, “They are either fools and fear nothing, or they know more than I do.”
The wind-driven sea continued to lash and crash against the ship for four terrifying days. The foul air below was almost unbearable. “I can’t breathe,” I gasped, and Papa braved the dangers to take me up the only open hatchway.
We met the captain on the deck and watched the spars whip dangerously as the ship rolled on the rough sea. Then a Baptist—the captain—and two Mormons—Papa and I—prayed together for the safety of the ship.
The storm ended. The Brooklyn had survived the first terrifying trial of the voyage. But the Atlantic adventures were just beginning!
(To be continued)

From 2003 to 2005 I served as Young Women president in the Gutiérrez Zamora Ward, in Veracruz, Mexico. Each Christmas the young women and their leaders baked treats to take to the older members of our ward.
As Christmas 2005 approached, we practiced singing Christmas carols and donned red hats and scarves. In the winter our village receives a steady drizzle of rain and a lot of cold wind from the north. But that did not prevent about a dozen of our young men and young women from going out with our load of pineapple pies.
When we arrived at the homes of our elderly brothers and sisters, we sang with great joy. We left each home feeling pleased because, even if for only a moment, we had brought happiness with our carols and pies.
The last sister we visited had been less active for many years. Though none of the youth had met Juanita, my husband and I had known her for a long time. She was now bedridden, terminally ill, and very poor. A few days prior, the elders quorum had visited her home to make some repairs.
When we arrived at her home, I called out her name. No one answered, so I kept calling. Soon I heard a soft voice say, “Come on in, Sister Araceli.” We entered and sang with joy and enthusiasm, even though her condition saddened us. Not long before, Juanita had been full of life. Now when she sat up, the youth couldn’t restrain their tears. She was deeply moved and thanked us for visiting her and helping her feel, through our carols, that our Heavenly Father remembered her and loved her.
After we left her humble dwelling, the youth expressed gratitude for having been able to sing for her. They didn’t care that they ended up wet and cold; their hearts were filled with joy for having shared a small portion of the happiness they felt. It was then that I understood more fully the verses that read:
“I was sick, and ye visited me. …
“… When saw we thee sick … and came unto thee?
“And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:36, 39–40).
I was saddened when Juanita passed away a few days later, but I know without a doubt that Heavenly Father loves His children. I also know that if we follow the Spirit, we can be instruments in His hands in blessing each other.

Two years into my actuarial and financial mathematics degree, I had a strong prompting to go on a mission. I chose to serve, even though I would potentially forfeit certain college credits that had to be taken consecutively.
A short while later, as I read my mission call to the Utah Salt Lake City Central Mission, the moment felt surreal. I didn’t know anybody who had served in Salt Lake City. I thought maybe I had opened the wrong mission call. When I arrived in Salt Lake City, I felt that everything I knew had been taken away. I found myself on a bicycle in the snow without any idea of how to be a missionary. With its different culture and climate, Salt Lake City felt as far away from South Africa as I could have traveled.
In my first area, my companion and I visited a member named Chris Ruppel for dinner. He asked if either of us knew music. My companion mentioned that I played piano and sang, so I sang a song for the family. Then something special happened. Brother Ruppel looked at me and said, “Elder Vizzini, if you keep singing like that, you will be a successful missionary.” I thought that was sweet of him but didn’t think much of it.
A few months later, with Brother Ruppel, I helped organize a musical missionary fireside. In every area I served thereafter, we used this same fireside structure. Many people participated with us, from stake members to well-known local musicians and members of other faiths. We taught about the Savior through music to people who otherwise would not have wanted to sit through a lesson. I learned that music could touch both the poor and the wealthy, the educated and the uneducated.
My mission taught me that I can do hard things. As I served in an area so far away and so different from my home, I learned that everybody is a child of God. I have seen miracles in people’s lives on the other side of the world in Utah, and I have seen them here in South Africa. I know that if we just have faith, miracles can happen in each of our lives (see Mormon 9:15–21).

Example three: Years ago I lived in a large ward with a great number of youth. I served as the Scoutmaster at a time when there were 53 Scouts in the troop. There was a young man in the ward who was a little older. He was not a Scout nor had he been. His name was Neil Schmitt. We worked in a produce department which had eight full-time and six part-time employees. We were able to help Neil become active in the Church. When he became active he was truly converted. Before I got to know him, I remember seeing him once downtown on a Saturday, about midnight, selling newspapers. I was impressed with his ambition. We used to discuss scriptures at work. We hiked to the peak of Mt. Olympus together.
Years ago there was a millpond in the Salt Lake area that was a young man’s dream of the ideal swimming hole. It was a large pond down in a gully. On the rear side it had a six-foot bank straight down to the water. It was kept filled from a large underground spring. A large tree on the bank leaned out over the pond. The pond was deep, and someone had nailed a board for a platform about six feet up the tree. This was about 12 feet above the water. There was another diving place at about 18 feet. Then about 10 feet above that was a large branch on which a long rope had been tied so you could swing out over the pond. You could also dive in from that height. You could take the rope, run down the bank, and swing in a giant circle out over the pond. Then you could drop into the pond or swing on around and crash into the tree. It was a great place.
I remember my first experience at the millpond. I challenged Neil that I would be first in the water. We walked down to the pond and changed into our suits. Then Neil hesitated, and I dove in. The next time we went I gave the same challenge. He ran down and changed. He was a sprinter, and I was quite a few steps behind him so he had a head start. Just as Neil was pulling on his swimsuit, I dove into the water partially undressed and beat him. The third time Neil was determined that he would be first in the water. We had challenged each other. This time I knew that Neil meant business. He sprinted ahead of me down to the millpond. I believe he had his suit on under his clothes. I’ve forgotten. But, by the time I arrived at the pond, Neil was almost ready to dive in. I kicked off my shoes and dove in fully clothed. I beat him. When you are older and not so fast you need to think of shortcuts. All through the years we have had that kind of fun together. Our friendship over the years came from more than a responsibility to activate. I really love him. Over the years Neil has been more than a friend.

When I studied for my Ph.D., I was required to take nine credits in upper-level statistics. If there was anything that was going to wash me out of the program, I thought it would be those classes. I worked hard to understand the ideas and concepts. Our professor was determined that we actually understand the math, not just be able to do it. I would walk out of class and feel like I understood the concepts. However, later that evening I just couldn't put it back together. I was frustrated and feared not getting the necessary grades. Then one day as I left my statistics class I noticed an empty classroom across the hall and walked in. I set my books and notes down at the front of the room and began to teach what I had just learned to an imaginary and empty classroom. I would become quite pentecostal about it and even stand on a chair in my statistical sermoning. I would field imaginary questions from my students requiring me to explain how things related to each other and why this had to be done before that and so on. Every once in a while someone would peek their head in the door and I suppose wonder if this doctoral student had just lost it. But it worked for me. The act of teaching solidified my understanding of the concepts and, equally important, revealed to me places where I thought I had understood but actually had not.

For nearly 40 years a man I know and respect greatly operated a store in the coal-mining community of Price, Utah. The store was somewhat akin to a general store, stocking everything from hardware and hunting equipment to furniture and fishing poles and plenty of toys at Christmas. When the store closed on Christmas Eve, there were sometimes toys, bikes, and other goods that had earlier been placed on layaway that had still not been retrieved, often because those who, a month or two earlier, had hoped to give these items as gifts had discovered there was simply no money to pay for them. On numerous occasions this man made a detour or two on his way home on Christmas Eve to anonymously drop off items that would never be paid for but that would also never be forgotten. Such acts and such an attitude are critical components of charity and, I suggest, of true knowledge.

In our worldwide youth devotional last June, I spoke about a young man whose life changed when his parents exchanged his smartphone for a flip phone. This young man’s mother is a fearless woman of faith. She saw her son drifting toward choices that could prevent him from serving a mission. She took her pleadings to the temple to know how best to help her son. Then she followed through with every impression.
She said: “I felt the Spirit guiding me to check my son’s phone at specific times to catch specific things. I don’t know how to navigate these smartphones, but the Spirit guided me through all the social media that I don’t even use! I know the Spirit helps parents who are seeking guidance to protect their children. [At first] my son was furious with me. … But after only three days, he thanked me! He could feel the difference.”
Her son’s behavior and attitudes changed dramatically. He became more helpful at home, smiled more, and was more attentive at church. He loved serving for a time in a temple baptistry and preparing for his mission.

In 1875, Daniel reported to President Young that they were ready to start on their mission. Authorized by President Young, Daniel soon raised $500 to pay for the printing of the first set of Spanish selections.
In a later conversation with President Young, Daniel was asked how he proposed to prove to the satisfaction of the authorities of the Church—none of whom spoke Spanish—that the translation was correct. Daniel suggested this test: they would select a book, Brother Trejo would translate a passage into Spanish, Daniel would take the Spanish translation and, without looking at the original book, translate the text back into English. President Young accepted the suggestion, and when the Brethren received a copy of Daniel’s translation from the Spanish, President George A. Smith, then a member of the First Presidency, “laughingly remarked, ‘I like Brother Jones’ style better [than the original]. … The language is more easily understood.’”

A second lesson was taught by the New York firefighters and policemen who put duty before life. As the occupants of the towers were coming down the stairwells, they met the firemen going up. A new set of heroes was born. Recently an eight-year-old boy was leaving Shea Stadium in New York after a Mets baseball game. As he was crossing the street, he saw a police officer directing traffic. The boy approached him and asked the officer if he would sign his baseball glove.

The policeman looked at the young boy and said, “Don’t you want a ballplayer’s autograph? Why a cop’s?”

The boy answered, “Because you saved the world.”

There is a greater respect and awareness today for those civil servants who risk their lives in the course of duty.

During construction of the Rio de Janeiro Brazil Temple, I walked by it nearly every day. I would tell my friends, “One day, I’m going to get married in this building.”
“Man, you say the same thing every day!” they said.
I said it every day because I knew that the temple was getting closer to being completed, and I wanted to remind myself to keep doing the right things so that our family could be sealed together. This is the desire of my heart.

Shawn is excited because his relatives are coming for dinner. Mom said that she could make one each of three kinds of pies: pumpkin, banana cream, custard, blueberry, pecan, mincemeat, cherry, chocolate, lemon meringue. The problem is:
—Uncle Bart is allergic to chocolate.
—Dad does not like blueberries.
—Grandpa’s doctor said that custard pie is not good for him.
—Shawn does not like lemon meringue pie.
—Shawn’s cousin, Sally, does not like pumpkin pie.
—Aunt Eugenia says that pecan pie is too fattening.
What three kinds of pies did Mom bake that everyone would eat?
Answers:

A story was told of a 22 year old mother of two who was widowed. Finding that the mornings, when most husbands leave for work, and the evenings, when they usually returned home were her most difficult times, she stumbled onto a way to reclaim abundance. In her words, “Instead of struggling to fight off sadness and loneliness in the house each morning, I decided to step outside to greet Heavenly Father in the sunrise, partaking of the beauty only He, the Source of all light, could offer. The mellow hues of refracted sunlight witnessed of His love, and deep swelling gratitude began to fill my aching soul, sweeping away the darkness and securing a wholesome perspective for the day.”

At sunset she returned to the porch witnessing that “He begins and ends each day in beauty, silently setting forth breathtaking loveliness uniquely crafted for that day and beckoning us to be happy in Him. “She concludes her story, looking back over 40 years of sunrises and sunsets. “What could have been a long and lonely widowhood has instead been richly blessed by harvesting the sunrises and sunsets He has given every day.”

That’s abundant thinking, isn’t it!

On a warm August morning in Aurora, Colorado, 30 children armed with brand new soccer balls and kickballs gathered in the local park to play sports and have a good time. But when the game ended, the children and their parents left 150 unused balls behind.
That may sound strange, but 14-year-old Brandon Campbell had planned it that way. Brandon, a teacher in the Fox Hollow Ward, Arapahoe Colorado Stake, knew that his Eagle project would provide the Aaronic Priesthood holders in the ward with an opportunity to bless the lives of children locally and all over the world.
An avid sports fan, Brandon found a way to use his love of athletics to create a project that would benefit children in developing nations. Brandon organized a sports day in his area, and the participants at the event donated balls to a charitable organization that helps communities all over the world establish stable political and social environments. With the help of his family and the youth in his ward and Scout troop, Brandon was able to provide struggling children with a little bit of fun and relief.
Brandon says he’s learned the importance of serving others through his Church membership. He notes that giving meaningful service is one of the purposes of the Aaronic Priesthood. “Scouting is the activity arm of the priesthood,” he says. “Because of the activity we organized, now kids are going to have things to play with. Helping children is a way of respecting them.”
As he progresses in the Aaronic Priesthood and other areas of his life, Brandon recognizes the benefits of Scouting. “I came up with the idea for my Eagle project and organized it,” he says. “Learning to be a leader is a big part of Scouting and Church. Learning to be a leader now prepares you to be a leader in your Church callings later. That’s why we do it.” Brandon and his fellow quorum members were leaders on the field, acting as referees of the games and ensuring the safety and enjoyment of the participants.
So now that he has finished his Eagle project, what’s next?
“I’ve finished my Duty to God requirements as a deacon,” Brandon says. “But I’m now a teacher, so I’ve started working on my Duty to God requirements as a teacher.”

In Tullahoma, Branden talks with two fellow Eagle Scouts, Joseph Jackson and James Ferguson. They’re close friends who all got their Eagles within months of each other. Joseph built picnic tables for a senior citizen center. With proper approval, he upgraded speed bumps in the road outside the center and installed and painted concrete parking barriers to help with traffic flow. But the highlight, he says, was meeting with those who use the center and hearing them say thanks for what he’d done. “Now I drive by and see them seated at the tables,” Joseph says. “I know the people, and I see how I helped them. I know it’s the kind of thing I’d like somebody to do for me.”

My wife and I kept seeing the missionaries and asking them many questions. They told us about the Word of Wisdom and about how we should obey it. In the Navy I flew airplanes. Once my plane went down into the water. The water was cold, and when I was fished out, I was offered an alcoholic drink. I simply said, “No thank you. I don’t drink.” At that moment I realized that accepting the gospel would change my life for the better.

For Sister Jane Rio Garcia of Tarlac, the family tricycle symbolizes her faithfulness in keeping the sabbath day holy. Growing up, Jane, her siblings and their parents all piled up inside their humble vehicle to make it to sacrament meeting, where her father, who served as the bishop, taught them the importance of honoring the Lord’s day.
As Jane matured, her strong testimony helped her make firm moral choices, such as declining to join weekend school marathons, which miraculously did not affect her grades. More recently, during the pandemic, Jane also found quality time to deepen her spirituality every Sunday. “My parents really helped us children to appreciate the Lord’s day,“ she proudly affirms, “and their teachings are now our guide.”

As a new convert and student at Brigham Young University-Hawaii, Elder Chi Hong (Sam) Wong gained much more than an education—he gained a sure knowledge that there is a God who knows “the details of our lives.”
A year later, on July 9, 1983, he married Carol. They moved to Laie, Hawaii, USA, so he could attend school. Because he was on a student visa, Elder Wong could work only 20 hours a week. “We had to really exercise our faith and prayers,” he said of what it took to sustain his family.
He worked hard to earn a scholarship, then he took as many credit hours as the university would allow. “It wasn’t easy,” he recalls. “Once we had that experience we knew we could always rely on the power of heaven.”
The Wongs were sealed in the Laie Hawaii Temple on August 9, 1984, and their first child was born; three more children would eventually join the family. “Those years were very special, very sacred,” Elder Wong said.

The idea for this project came, in part, through an experience I had with some friends in college. A young married couple we knew was trying to better manage their finances, so they met with a financial advisor. The advisor told them that before he could really help them, they needed to track every penny they spent over a period of a month or so. It was a tedious task, but in the end they had some interesting results. One finding was that the wife had a serious liking for bubble gum. They discovered that she was spending approximately ten to twenty dollars on bubble gum a month.
She had no idea her sweet tooth was costing them that much. She enjoyed bubble gum and would pick up a pack what she thought was just every once-in-a-while. Now armed with this new information the couple could make some decisions. The wife enjoyed bubble gum so they could continue spending a good portion of their starving-college-student income on gum. Another option could be to set a limit on the amount of gum she purchased every month. They could even choose to cut it out all together and spend the savings on more extravagant college meals like mac and cheese or ramen noodles.

Service has taken on a special meaning to the girls in the Copenhagen Denmark Stake. The Young Women were asked to help an LDS family in Poland. They gladly responded and began organizing the first parcel of hard-to-get items to send to the Polish family of four. They sent such items as soap, toothpaste, flour, razor blades, vitamins, and shoes. The parcel was received so gratefully that the girls decided to gather more badly needed items and have them personally delivered by a family in their ward who offered to spend their vacation making the trip into Poland.
The family was able to deliver the items gathered by the girls to the Polish couple and their two sons, who were grateful to have contact with Church members. They were also able to bring the news that a temple is to be built in East Germany.
The Young Women of the Copenhagen First Ward also filled sharing socks made by some California Young Women. These socks, filled by the Copenhagen girls with candy and small gifts, were given to children in Poland.
News of their successful service project has spread, and four other Copenhagen wards have also adopted Polish families. The girls hold work projects to earn money to pay for the postage on the packages they mail to Poland.

It was freezing outside, and the cold air bit the cheeks and noses of the Stevenson family. After a fun day of skiing, they walked through the snow toward their car. They looked forward to getting in the car and warming up with the heater.
But when Elder Stevenson reached into his pocket, the car keys were gone! Where are the keys? he thought. Everyone anxiously waited for him to unlock the car. Without the keys, they were locked out! They couldn’t open the door or start the car. They couldn’t turn on the heater.
The first thing Elder Stevenson did was say a prayer. He asked Heavenly Father to help them find the car keys. Next he thought as hard as he could about where he might have dropped them. Suddenly he thought of a ski jump he had gone off earlier in the day. Maybe the keys were there in the snow.
Some of the family went back with Elder Stevenson to the top of the ski slope and skied down the run. By the time they got to the bottom of the ski jump, the sun was starting to go down. They searched for the keys as it grew darker. To their amazement, they found the keys just before it got too dark!
Praying and finding the keys to their car reminded Elder Stevenson that Heavenly Father will not leave us without help. He gives priesthood keys and authority to leaders of the Church to help lead us all safely home to Him.