Gospel Story Finder

All three of these areas have successfully gathered believers to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Missionaries first arrived in the British Isles in 1837. This was one year after Joseph Smith’s dedication of the Kirtland Temple, where Moses committed “the keys of the gathering of Israel from the four parts of the earth, and the leading of the ten tribes from the land of the north.” The early success in the British Isles is legendary. By 1851, over half the members of the Church were baptized converts living in the British Isles.

Let’s go, guys. Time to get up,” a loud voice said, unconcerned that my exhausted body needed more rest. “Yeah,” I moaned in my most convincing tone. I rolled 90 degrees and half opened one eye to see what time it was. The illuminated digital clock read 4:35 A.M. in bright red. Dad’s portly figure towered at the bedroom door. The hallway light surrounded him, giving him the aura of a heavenly messenger dressed in white. Dad’s message, however, was not exactly prophetic: “We’ve got cows to milk. You guys awake?”
“Okay, okay,” Steve said slightly annoyed.
I closed my eyes, then felt my nose with my hand. It must have been ten degrees colder than the rest of my body, which was warmed by a stack of six blankets. I snuggled, eyes closed, listening to the wind howl outside the bedroom window. I heard the bathroom door open. “Let’s go, Steve,” I said to my brother as I slowly rolled to the edge of my bed. I flipped back the covers, sat up, and quickly pulled my pants over the insulated socks and long johns I wore all night. I grabbed one flannel shirt and slipped it on, then imitated the procedure with a second.
I heard the back door close as I headed downstairs. Steve was right behind me. In the coatroom I donned another pair of pants over the ones I had on, then two more flannel shirts of a quilted style, and a dirty green army jacket. Snowmobile boots, a heavy winter cap over my ears, a thick scarf, and sheepskin gloves completed the outfit. I took a deep breath and looked at Steve. He glanced back, in almost identical clothing. We pulled open the door and stepped out into eight inches of swirling, drifting snow.
Steve’s voice was muffled by the scarf over his mouth, but I detected a sarcastic tone as he talked, “Sure is a lovely morning.”
“Yeah,” I replied, pointing to the thermometer by the milk house. “Let’s check the temperature.”
Out of habit, we walked single file, stepping in Dad’s boot tracks. The barn lights shone brightly through the windows. I could see Dad’s reflection and knew he was throwing hay to the cows. Half asleep and shivering I was barely aware of what I was doing. Dad, however, was bustling around feeding and checking each cow to make sure she had made it through the night okay. We both stopped at the telephone pole, and Steve scraped the ice off the thermometer as I adjusted my view of the mercury. “It’s only twelve below,” I mumbled, “five degrees warmer than yesterday morning.”
As we stepped in the barn and untied our scarves, the warm air penetrating our nostrils was filled with the sweet aroma of oat straw and alfalfa hay. Johnny, our dog, ran to greet us. We each took a second to say good morning to him. Then, without speaking to each other, we moved to do our preassigned chores. In sleepy silence Steve and I prepared to milk as Dad fed the cows. The clanking of neck chains and hooves on concrete was drowned out when I turned on the radio.
As we milked I watched Dad and wondered what it would be like without him. He never missed a morning in the barn. He was never late, and he never complained. No matter what happened (and things inevitably would go wrong, especially in cold weather) he always handled it with cool, efficient professionalism. I wished I could be as patient as he was. He always shared a positive attitude, explaining that things were never as bad as they could be.
The next words were spoken half an hour later when Dad said he needed to check the heifer barn to make sure the water wasn’t frozen. We heard on the radio the wind chill outside was about 55 below. He left but returned in five minutes. We watched as he got the propane torch. “Not too bad,” he shouted cheerfully on his way back out the door.
“I’ll bet that water is frozen solid. He just doesn’t want us to get perturbed at the cold.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “that’s Dad.”
At 6:45 Steve and I were almost done milking. Dad returned. “Took you awhile, Dad. Everything okay up there?” I asked.
“No problem. Everything’s fine,” he said reassuringly.
I looked at Steve in disbelief. His face said without words exactly what I was thinking. “Right, Dad!”
We assembled in a circle and made sure each one knew what needed to be done before breakfast. After deciding who would do what, we dispersed. It took an extra 30 minutes on cold winter mornings to make sure every water line, calf, cow, tractor, and truck was safeguarded from the elements. I took some shortcuts while cleaning the feeder, hoping Dad wouldn’t check. It was a dumb thing to hope, but my fingers were numb and my nose resembled a circus clown’s. Of course Dad checked and discovered my slothfulness. As I refroze my fingers finishing what I hadn’t done before, I imitated Laman and Lemuel and murmured against Dad’s thoroughness.
At 7:20 we sealed up the barn and braved the bitter cold again on our way to the house. Around the breakfast table we discussed the things to do today and decided who would be responsible for each. The list seemed long, especially when I thought of the icy cold weather.
I expressed my disgust at the arctic conditions and complained to Dad about all the trivial things he wanted done. He smiled and explained the importance of each of the “trivial” jobs. I nodded in agreement, my face indifferent. Strangely, I looked forward to the next eight hours. I didn’t realize it then, but Dad was teaching me each day invaluable lessons about responsibility and preparedness. I was in the eighth grade.
Twelve years have passed since that cold January morning. We don’t milk cows anymore, but Dad hasn’t changed a bit. He still shares a positive attitude even after a crippling accident that has left him disabled. The lessons he taught us surface in my conversations and experiences all the time now. At last I understand what he has taught me by his example. I love my dad.

When I visited the Sacred Grove, I tried to imagine what it must have been like to have been Joseph Smith. In those quiet moments, the Spirit whispered to my beating heart that I was standing on holy ground and that all that the Prophet Joseph Smith had said was true. Then came the powerful realization that we are all the beneficiaries of his faith, courage, and steadfast desire to obey God. He had received an answer to his humble prayer. He had seen the Father and His Beloved Son. There in the Sacred Grove, I knew that Heavenly Father not only knew Joseph Smith by name, but He also knows each of us by name. And just as Joseph Smith had an important part to play in this great and marvelous work, we too have an important part to play in these latter days.

Many Ivory Coast pioneers exemplify a total change of life. Perhaps no story is more typical of such change than that of Mammadou Zadi, a retired border guard.
Before Brother Zadi joined the Church, he was in poor health because of liver problems related to alcohol abuse; nevertheless, he decided to open a bar with his savings. He purchased a good location and was soon enjoying a brisk business. He little realized then how his life would change after his wife, Josephine, met the full-time missionaries. Josephine was impressed with their message, but in Ivory Coast’s culture she needed her husband’s permission to take the missionary discussions. He granted approval but told her he wanted nothing to do with the Church. The life he had chosen to live, he realized, was incompatible with gospel teachings.
Josephine, however, wanted to share her growing gospel knowledge with her husband. It was her fervent prayers, Brother Zadi insists, that brought the influence of the Holy Ghost into his life and prompted him to listen to the missionaries. He, too, was quickly impressed—so much so that he began living the Word of Wisdom. After his health dramatically improved, he became convinced of the truthfulness of the gospel.
With the Zadis’ baptism, membership grew not just by two but, within a short time, by all 18 members of the couple’s immediate family. The Zadi family spread the gospel to many extended family members as well, and now a son and a nephew, as full-time missionaries, are spreading the message of the Restoration to more Ivorians.
Because the gospel became foremost in their lives, Brother Zadi closed his bar and donated the building to be used for Church meetings. Brother Zadi supports his family off a pension and income from rental properties. He and Sister Zadi have donated many hours of service to the Church as well. Brother Zadi has served as a district president, and Sister Zadi as president of the Dokui Branch Relief Society.

When my family was sealed in the temple, we all felt happy because we know we will be an eternal family.
Manuel C., age 9, Santa Ana, El Salvador

In October 1830, Oliver Cowdery, Peter Whitmer Jr., Parley P. Pratt, and Ziba Peterson set forth from New York on a mission to the Indians of western America. They visited the Cattaraugus tribe near Buffalo, New York, and the Wyandot tribe in Ohio en route west. Frontier settlers had pushed as far west as Missouri. Beyond that state lived Indians displaced by westward-moving pioneers. But when Oliver Cowdery and his companions reached the Missouri frontier, they faced disappointment. The missionaries visited the Shawnee Indians and then met in council with the chief of the Delaware nation. Despite a friendly reception by the Indians the missionaries were forced to leave the reservation by government Indian agents who said they were disturbing the peace. This early Mormon contact with the Lamanites did not bring the conversions expected by the missionaries. Nevertheless, the expedition turned the Church’s attention to Missouri, where the Saints would soon seek to establish a City of Zion.

A survivor of bitter civil war, a brother in Southeast Asia despaired that life had no meaning. He found hope in a dream in which a former classmate held a sacrament tray and testified of saving ordinances and the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

President Uchtdorf talked about two missionaries in Germany who were knocking on doors, looking for someone to teach. They got all the way up to the top floor and the last door of an apartment building before they met someone who would listen to their message. That family got baptized. One of the daughters was named Harriet, and when she grew up, she married President Uchtdorf! President Uchtdorf said he is very grateful that those missionaries didn’t give up. When we seek the Lord, we shouldn’t give up either.

The next morning Samuel gave a copy of the Book of Mormon to a poor widow who fed him breakfast. Then he walked 8 miles (13 km) and shared the Book of Mormon with John Greene, a Methodist minister, who took it only to see if others he knew might be interested in buying a copy. Mr. Greene’s wife, Rhoda, was Brigham Young’s sister, but Brigham had not yet been introduced to the Church.

When Samuel returned to the Greenes’ home in two weeks, he learned that Mr. Greene hadn’t found anyone who was interested in the Book of Mormon. So Samuel agreed to return in a few months. When he did, Mr. Greene wasn’t home, but Mrs. Greene told Samuel that she had read the book “and was much pleased with it.” The Spirit prompted Samuel to leave the book with her. She was so grateful “she burst into tears.” Samuel then “explained to her the most profitable manner of reading the book … which was, to ask God, when she read it, for a testimony of the truth of what she had read, and she would receive the Spirit of God, which would enable her to discern the things of God.”4

Later Mrs. Greene urged her husband to read the Book of Mormon too. He did, and they were soon baptized.

Which prophet received a mission call to the Swiss-German Mission, but because of the threat of war, was reassigned to the Central States Mission? He once played the piano to introduce the gospel while on his mission.

“I felt like Nephi [must have felt] before he knew the message of the Lord,” recalls Roberto Asioli, president of the Rimini Italy District. “I was doing the correct things in my personal life before I heard the gospel, but I lived in a tourist city where there are many amusements and discotheques, and it was not a very spiritual place.” In fact, Brother Asioli was working in a discotheque in 1981 when he first met the missionaries. He was a discouraged young man working through a very sad time in his life. His wife, Loretta, had just lost a baby and was in the hospital.

Roberto was home alone when the knock came at the door. “I looked out the window and saw the elders standing there. My spirits were so low—I just was not in the mood to listen to them, so I didn’t open the door.”

But at the same time the next evening, a knock came at his door again. “This time I opened the door and invited the missionaries to come in,” he recalls. “We started to talk, and I felt their spirit immediately. It was not difficult for me to receive their testimony—it was the right time for me to hear the gospel message.”

As Roberto learned more about the gospel, his greatest desire was to share his feelings with his wife and tell her of his wish to be baptized. Her reaction was not what he had hoped for—she was not interested, and she was not happy with his new-found religion. Disappointed, Roberto worried about accepting the gospel and being baptized without his wife. He prayed for Loretta to recognize the same spirit and happiness that he had found, and he considered postponing his baptism until she could share his feelings.

“When I spoke to the elders about my concern for my wife, they gave me a blessing with a promise from the Lord,” says Roberto. “They said, ‘If you will be baptized, you will show your faith to the Lord, and He will never leave you alone. You will convert your wife.’”

So Roberto continued to study the gospel. When the elders came to their home, Loretta would go into the kitchen and stay there until they left. “She was completely separated from me during this time,” says Roberto. “To me, it was very hard to consider joining the Church—thinking that she would always ‘stay in the kitchen’! It was very, very hard! But I remembered that the elders had told me, ‘The Lord will never leave you alone.’”

Twenty days after the elders knocked on his door, Roberto Asioli was baptized. He was one of the first members of the Church in Rimini. He knew that he was at a crossroads—he had to make some decisions. What should he do about his work in the disco? What could he do to share the joy of the gospel with his wife? He decided to quit his job at the disco and give all his energy to living the gospel as he should.

And Loretta watched. She watched as he started a new job, one that was not very secure. She watched as he lost that job and began his own business. She watched as he woke up early on very cold Sunday mornings and went to church on his motorbike, never trying to force her to accompany him. She watched as he studied his scriptures. And she watched as he prayed alone by his bedside each night.

And they talked. Their conversations at first were not about the Church or about the missionary lessons—they talked about their life, about their marriage. Loretta remembers, “I realized that the Church and the message of the gospel were very important to Roberto. I realized that I couldn’t stay indifferent to this—I am his wife! I had to learn more about the gospel, so I started reading the Book of Mormon.” Roberto baptized Loretta only two months after his own baptism.

Others were watching, also. When, at a family dinner, Roberto first refused the wine that was offered, Loretta’s father concluded, “He has really gone out of his mind!” But their families watched as Roberto and Loretta accepted a new and beautiful way of life. They saw that this new religion was not like fine clothes they wore only on Sundays—but one that they lived each day of their lives. They watched as they prayed together before meals.

“In the beginning, it was very hard to break the wall of prejudice with Loretta’s parents and with mine,” says Roberto, “but now they are happy that we are members of the Church.”

And someone else was watching from afar. “My brother was always watching what I was doing and what I was not doing,” recalls Roberto. “I never told him to leave his church and come to my church. I just cared for him and loved him. Eight years ago, I gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I introduced him to the missionaries. Three years ago, I baptized him.”

Since the Asiolis joined the Church, their family has grown. They have three children: Matteo, 11; Alice, 7; and Thomas, born just last May. The Church has also grown during this time. When Roberto Asioli became the branch president 13 years ago, there were only 10 people in the Rimini Branch; there are now more than 90 members.

For three years—from April 1991 to April 1994—President Asioli presided over the original Florence District. In that assignment, he spent a great deal of time traveling to the 14 branches in his district, and he often made the two-hour trip over mountainous roads from Rimini to the district headquarters in Florence. In his present assignment, President Asioli continues to be an example to the Saints in the new Rimini Italy District. The time and effort required to fulfill his callings have not seemed to discourage President Asioli. “My work in the Church requires a lot of planning and organization, but I grow. What is easy is not the work of the Lord!”

Hundreds of members of the Church have been touched by the love and dedication shown by Roberto and Loretta Asioli, and yet perhaps many more have noticed their quiet example—and are watching.

In this vein, I had a provocative meeting with an internationally recognized advertising expert a few months ago. We were discussing the influence of evil and the consequences of bad choices.
He envisioned an interesting hypothetical account of Lucifer meeting with an advertising agency. The adversary described his dilemma: he and his followers had rebelled and rejected the Father’s plan and had come to understand that they could not prevail against God. Lucifer understood that while the Father’s plan was about joy and happiness, his own plan resulted in grief and misery. The problem, Lucifer explained to the ad executive, was how to attract followers.
It was determined that Lucifer’s only hope of success was to achieve a paradigm shift or values inversion—in other words, to characterize the Father’s plan as resulting in grief and misery and Lucifer’s plan as resulting in joy and happiness.
This hypothetical meeting serves a useful purpose. The truth is, not only do the enemies of the Father’s plan attempt to undermine the doctrine and principles of the plan, but they also attempt to mischaracterize the blessings that flow from the plan. Their basic effort is to make that which is good, righteous, and joyful seem miserable.

I hated school. There was too much homework. It was too hard, and my grades were bad. I thought dropping out was the best thing to do, so I did.
With no high school diploma or GED, I couldn’t get a job. I couldn’t get into the armed forces. I was really having a hard time.
I decided to get my GED, and it took me seven years. Now I know that dropping out was a stupid idea.
Finish school. You’ll be glad you did.
Blake Combe, 25Orofino, Idaho

When I was called to the holy apostleship many years ago, my sure witness prompted me to testify on that occasion in these words: “I understand that a chief requirement for the holy apostleship is to be a personal witness of Jesus as the Christ and the Divine Redeemer. Perhaps on that basis alone, I can qualify. This truth has been made known to me by the unspeakable peace and power of the Spirit of God.”

Since accepting that call many years ago, my certain witness has been greatly magnified. This is because of my undeniable testimony that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God.

When they returned to New Zealand, the Burts sold their Gisborne property and lived in a caravan for a year before settling in Taup?, because it is a nice town and central to where their sons and families lived. Peter served as the Taup? Ward’s elders quorum president until the Rotorua Stake conference in mid-2023, when he was called as patriarch.
Looking back, Peter recognises the hand of God guiding him towards the gospel of Jesus Christ and a life that he could have never imagined. “I now know that it was the Holy Ghost testifying to me of the truth.”
As a newly called patriarch, he earnestly prays that he’ll be able to help other members find that same divine guidance through special, personalised blessings from our loving Heavenly Father.
“I will do my very best to fulfil [this calling] with the respect and responsibility expected of me by the Lord . . . It is such a huge honour and privilege. I am almost overwhelmed by the responsibility . . . but I have faith to believe that whom the Lord calls, He qualifies.”

After two years, I was prompted to prepare to serve a mission together with Clint and two other friends. We were glad the announcement lowering the mission age to 18 was given two years ago, and we felt worthy and ready to serve.
I was motivated by one of my goals: to bring my family to the Church and someday be sealed in the temple with them. That is why I went ahead and served a mission despite the many educational opportunities I was getting. There were scholarship offers and family friends offering to sponsor my education, but I decided to put the Lord first and serve Him. Thank goodness my father was supportive of my decision although he has not been baptized yet.
I served in the Philippines Tacloban Mission and fell in love with the people of Tacloban and Samar. My friends and I all learned so much, and though we served in different missions, we supported each other and we all felt the Lord’s watchful gaze upon us.

Aaron’s experience at Sinai reminds me of a similar experience I had as the leader of a small group of men in my army platoon at Fort Ord, California.

Our platoon was preparing for a special inspection; after cleaning the barracks, the men went outside to clean their gear. The platoon sergeant called the four squad leaders into the barracks where he noted a few tasks that still needed to be completed. He told me to call some of my men in to do these jobs. So I opened a window and called out to three men in my squad, “Sergeant Carrington wants you to come in and do some more work!”

As I turned around, Sergeant Carrington asked, “What did you tell your men?”

“I told them you wanted them to come in and do some more work.”

“No,” he said, “I told you to call your men in to do the work. You know what to do.” In Sergeant Carrington’s language, “You know what to do” was an order to do one hundred pushups, right then.

I was frustrated and embarrassed at the time; but after a few hours, I began to appreciate what he was teaching me. I was the men’s squad leader, and I had the authority to order them into the barracks to do their jobs. Instead I had used Sergeant Carrington’s name and authority to try and impress the men to do their work.

Early Spanish explorers named the islands Galápagos because of the many giant tortoises they observed there, for galápago is the old Spanish name for tortoise. Later, visiting sailors killed hundreds of the tortoises at a time for their meat and shells. Most of the tortoises today are concentrated in corrals on Santa Cruz Islands, where scientists at the Darwin Research Center can breed them and help save them from possible extinction.

Soon after I graduated from Primary, the bishop called on me to bear my testimony during ward conference. In my talk, I mentioned that I liked the Book of Mormon stories that I knew. I also said that I wanted to read the Book of Mormon all the way through someday.
Someday came sooner than I expected. The day after ward conference, I didn’t feel well and was diagnosed with German measles. I had to lie in bed, so I decided to read the Book of Mormon. I read it from beginning to end in four days. That was a wonderful way to read the Book of Mormon because I gained a feeling for the entire book.

Bishop Dean M. Davies
(9) The Loma Prieta, California, USA, earthquake in 1989 reaffirms in the mind and heart of Dean M. Davies the importance of building our lives on a firm foundation.