Gospel Story Finder

I hope that you young people recognize the strength and the power of your testimonies. Several years ago I was in the nation of Czechoslovakia. There, in an inspiring meeting held in Prague under dangerous circumstances and when freedom was curtailed, I met a young woman whose name is Olga. She was about 25 years of age at the time and had, in the previous two years, brought to membership in the Church 16 young men and young women her own age. As I met with them, I knew they were truly converted to the gospel. I felt they would be the foundation of the Church in Czechoslovakia. They learned the truth of the gospel and felt the strength of testimony—all from Olga. When I complimented Olga and thanked her for having a testimony she is willing to share, she said, “Oh, Brother Monson, I have 14 others with whom I am working!” Later I learned that almost all of those 14 became members of the Church. The light of Christ shone in Olga’s eyes as she encouraged others to “come unto him.”

Chris Baird was busy changing his clothes after school when he heard a loud crash in front of his home in Utica, New York. He looked out the window and saw a three-car accident. One of the cars was his mother’s.
As he rushed up to the car, he saw that his mother’s face was covered with blood and she was in obvious pain. Chris drew upon his first-aid training from Scouting and used a compress on her head to stop the bleeding and helped wrap her in blankets as a treatment for shock.
Chris called the police and then his father before returning to help his mother, Beverlee. He took care of her until she could be taken to a hospital. She suffered not only the cut on her head but also damaged ribs and two broken legs.
Both his parents and others at the scene of the accident praised Chris for his quick thinking and for doing such a fine job in an emergency.
Chris is a deacon in the Utica Ward.

I would like to introduce you to the Vargas family. Christine and I met them on a mission tour in San Antonio, Texas, last fall. Andrea was serving as a Primary president. Luis was not a member. The missionaries scheduled an exterior tour of the temple, and the mission president shared with me that one of the factors holding Brother Vargas back was his fear of trying to be perfect.
At the start of the tour, I said, “Brother Vargas, can I first make it clear that no one in this Church is perfect save Jesus Christ? We all are just trying to do our best to become something more in Christ.”
The missionaries gave a great tour, and at the end of the evening, they said, “Brother Vargas, how are you feeling?”
Brother Vargas turned to his wife and said, “Honey, I’ve been coming with you to Church for five years. I want to join this Church so that I can become a better father and a better husband.”
Sister Vargas jumped into his arms. Their daughter wasn’t sure what was happening, but she rushed in and began hugging them as well.
Brothers and sisters, you don’t need to be perfect to be in this Church. You just need to do your best—which includes repentance—as you strive to become something more in Christ.

In 1931 a small six- by nine-meter chapel was constructed on a piece of ground measuring only twelve by sixteen meters that the Church had managed to acquire. It remains the only chapel in use on the island today. Faithful members recall that the last visit made to them by a mission president before their 1976 voyage was in the late 1950s by President Joseph R. Reeder. Then somehow, over the next fifteen years, the mission leaders accidentally forgot Taenga.
Though the branch finally was no longer officially functioning and meetings were being held on an informal basis only, the members kept their faith. “We always lived the gospel as best we could,” says Sister Teuruhai Buchin, now a worker in the Tahiti Temple. Kaheke Temanu, the man who would later be called as branch president, had faith that one day the little island would be visited by the mission president. He built a small residence on the island, reserved for the sole purpose of housing this hoped-for visitor. So it was not so surprising that when these steadfast members somehow learned by word of mouth that a prophet of the Lord was coming to Tahiti, they were inspired to make the difficult journey, bringing along beautiful handcrafted tokens of their love and respect to offer President Kimball.
Since 1976, little has changed in Taenga. The island remains fairly isolated from the others of French Polynesia and does not have an airstrip as do many of its neighbors. The easiest way to get to Taenga is to fly to nearby Makemo on a twelve-passenger plane, then travel by motor boat on the open sea for some three hours. If the weather is bad, however, this “three-hour” journey can take twice as long.
This isolation encourages a simple life-style, without the pressures and complexities of modern society and largely unchanged from what it was decades ago. The crushed coral soil sustains very little in crops or gardens. The islanders eat mostly fish and coconut, supplemented by occasional goods shipped from Tahiti. The only income-producing activity on the island is the production of copra—dried coconut meat from which oil is obtained.
One thing that has changed in Taenga is Church activity. For many years the Saints did not have the opportunity to practice their faith as they desired. Shortly after their voyage to Tahiti in 1976, the Taengans received that long-awaited visit from the mission president, President Baudin, who officially organized again a branch on the island and called Kaheke Temanu as branch president. President Temanu was born on Taenga but had moved to Tahiti. In 1969, he and his family moved back to Taenga, and he was appointed as the local police officer by the French government.
When the branch began to function officially again, members returned to the meetings and ten converts were baptized. Of the seventy-six inhabitants of Taenga, only seven are not members of the Church. President Temanu says that not only are all the Church members active, but even the nonmembers regularly attend and participate in Church meetings. He is especially happy that several couples from his island have been sealed in the Tahiti temple since its completion in 1983.
The members in Taenga feel that the Lord has blessed them in many ways because of their faith. This faith is put to the test every time they make the voyage to Makemo. Though Polynesians have traditionally been skilled navigators, it is rare to see these skills still used as they are in Taenga. The trip to Makemo is so difficult because the flat coral atolls are hard to see from a distance, and thousands of of square kilometers of open sea separate them. Yet the trip is made without compass or other navigational instruments but, as the boat’s pilot explains, with “the stars, instinct, and trust in the Lord’s inspiration and guidance.”
For every Church leader who visits Taenga, this voyage is a memorable one. All have been impressed by the faith of President Temanu, the boat’s pilot. Before leaving Taenga’s lagoon, he stands in the boat (a three-meter motorboat holding a maximum of six passengers) and offers a prayer for direction, then never forgets to offer one of gratitude upon arrival.
President Baudin describes his second voyage to Taenga as one of the most unforgettable experiences of his mission. President Temanu had come to get him, and soon after they left Makemo, stormy weather set in, with the wind and waves buffeting the boat through the waters and altering its course. “Imagine my concern,” relates President Baudin, “when after six hours there was still no land in sight.
“Suddenly, President Temanu stood and pointed with his finger and calmly stated that the island was in that direction. Almost immediately, the wind died and the sea became calm, and as if they had come to greet us and guide us to the pass in the reef, dozens of dolphins appeared, leaping out of the water in front of the boat. As if this weren’t impressive enough, we also saw a whale some thirty meters to the side, spouting water and unhurriedly keeping pace with our forward movement.”
Taengan members believe Heaven has tempered the elements on their island. In recent years, five major cyclones have swept across the area, and though surrounding islands were seriously affected, Taenga was not touched by even one of these devastating storms.
Likewise, Taengans are quick to point out how the Lord has blessed them in providing sufficient water for their needs. Since there are no mountains, rivers, or springs in the Tuamotu atolls, all drinking water must be collected in rain barrels and water tanks. During the dry season, most islands are plagued with constant water problems and periods of serious rationing. But Taengans have not faced those difficulties. And somewhat ironically, in one aspect of modern living Taengans can boast a higher standard of living than Tahiti, which is not yet entirely served by electrical power. In Taenga, every household enjoys solar-generated electricity.
Several Church leaders from Tahiti who recently visited Taenga were impressed by the strong feeling of security on the island and the overwhelming spirituality that exists among the entire population. “This is what paradise is all about,” commented Georges Bonnet, the Church’s regional manager for temporal affairs.
One morning Brother Bonnet was awakened by an unusual sound. When he got up and looked out, he discovered the sisters of the Relief Society sweeping away the leaves that had fallen onto the village road during the night. “I’ve never seen such cleanliness,” he observed. “The entire village is spotless, and it is obvious that the people take great pride in their island.”
President C. Wayne Mack and President C. Jay Larson, who succeeded President Baudin as mission presidents in Tahiti, also have special feelings for the island. Interestingly, during their first missions, both served on Taenga. President Larson, who returned from Tahiti in July 1984, says, “Taenga has always impressed me as being perhaps the most spiritual and the most united branch in the mission. This was true when I served on that island as a missionary thirty-four years ago, and it is true today.”

Harold B. Lee was a busy man. He was a city commissioner, stake president, husband, and father of two little girls.
It was early morning on the day before Christmas. President Lee had been up all night, helping city crews snowplow the streets. Now he was on his way home to change clothes before going to his office.
He saw a small boy by the side of the road. The boy had no coat, no gloves, and no overshoes. President Lee stopped the car and offered the boy a ride into town.
As they road along, the man and boy began to talk. President Lee asked the boy if he was ready for Christmas.
He was shocked when the boy replied that there would be no Christmas at his house. His father had just died, and the family had no money. Before President Lee dropped the boy off in town, he asked him his name and address.
That Christmas Eve, as Harold B. Lee and the bishops in his stake delivered gifts to needy families, he remembered the young boy. He asked one of the bishops to take some Christmas boxes to the boy’s family.

Brother Peterson was a successful man by most people’s standards. But now our whole quorum’s attention was riveted on him as he told the story of his impoverished childhood, of eight brothers and a sick father, the frustration of having to do without the things other kids had during the time of his father’s illness, and how the subsequent feelings of inferiority had led to rebellion against some gospel principles. He told of the girl who would one day become his wife and how she persuaded him to forsake bad habits and go on a mission. And then a story about his missionary farewell. …
“I didn’t know what to talk about. I worried about it all week long. Finally I went in to see Brother Bloomfield. I said ‘Brother Bloomfield, I’ve got to give a talk in less than two hours and I have no idea what to say!’ Well, he had me write down a few things and then he said, ‘Now, you could conclude by saying that you know Peter, James, and John restored the Melchizedek Priesthood to Joseph Smith.’ I said, ‘Who are Peter, James, and John?’ Through all my life, I hadn’t learned who Peter, James, and John were and I was going on a mission in a week!”
Brother Peterson was finishing the story of an extraordinary mission experience. He and his companion had baptized ten people in one month.
“That experience changed the way I thought the other elders in my mission looked at me. It changed the way I looked at myself. That new confidence carried me through the rest of my mission and for twelve years after I got home. …”
He mentioned some of the challenges facing him now and closed with his testimony. There were extra firm handshakes and pats on the back after the meeting, both with Brother Peterson and between other quorum members.

The Best Christmas Present of All Mr. Merriweather took Buster in when he had been abandoned. They loved each other. When Mr. Merriweather had to go to the hospital, his grandchildren took the little dog to their house. But he didn’t understand and ran away home. The children found him and took him to their home again. Can you guess what his Christmas present—the best of all—was?Linda Jennings4–7 years

In brief form I will mention several examples:
On a visit to the Millcreek Stake in Salt Lake City some years ago, I learned that just over 100 brethren who were prospective elders had been ordained elders during the preceding year. I asked President James Clegg the secret of his success. Although he was too modest to take the credit, one of his counselors revealed that President Clegg, recognizing the challenge, had undertaken to personally call and arrange a private appointment between him and each prospective elder. During the appointment, President Clegg would mention the temple of the Lord, the saving ordinances and covenants emphasized there, and would conclude with this question: “Wouldn’t you desire to take your sweet wife and your precious children to the house of the Lord, that you might be a forever family throughout the eternities?” An acknowledgment followed, the reactivation process was pursued, and the goal was achieved.

Then I was called to be the second counselor in the elders quorum. Even there I had a manual, but I couldn’t use it. All the Church members had manuals they could use, and I wondered if it would be a heavy burden for me to depend upon other people to always read for me and record it. I started praying and asking my Father in Heaven to help me find something I could use to better understand the gospel. While praying, I felt the Spirit say to me that if I have faith, I can even move mountains.
During a home teaching visit, I told the sister we visited, “I cannot read the scriptures because I cannot see. I want to go to a school where I can learn how to read and write Braille.”
Her brother worked at a school for the blind. He helped me apply. I studied Braille every day. I even woke up at night to practice reading Braille. It took me only four months to be able to read it.
I finished school and told my branch president that I could now read Braille. He gave me a box with a manual for the priesthood and all the scriptures in Braille. I never knew that the Church had those things. It was then that I started really understanding and enjoying the gospel.
I have been called in the bishopric, and I’ve been serving in that calling for I think about 10 years. I can now stand in front of other people and teach by the Spirit. Because reading Braille in the lesson would take a lot of time, I practice and I learn the lesson at home so I can teach without a manual in front of me.

During my service as mission president, I met many young people who also demonstrated this kind of pliability. I first met Olivier Pecqueux on a visit to New Caledonia. He was 24 years old and in the military service. He was not active in the Church, pursuing instead a life of worldliness. But the Lord had other plans for him. At his request we met and discussed his patriarchal blessing. He decided to humble himself, repent, and let the Lord mold his life. Soon he was called on a full-time mission, and he became one of my most capable elders. He is now attending college and was recently married in the Tahiti temple.

I am a nonmember. Eighteen months ago, while I was living in Idaho as an exchange student from Guatemala City, Guatemala, I first learned about the Church. Since that time, I have studied and prayed about it until I received a testimony, a testimony that grows when I read the New Era. I read it from cover to cover, and I enjoy each one of its articles. I especially liked “President Kimball Speaks Out on Being a Missionary” in the May issue and “Private Battle” by Kevin Kennedy in the July issue. I am grateful for the publication of such a great magazine.
I am especially grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Dewey Jensen who gave me my subscription. They were the first two Mormons I met, and they gave me a really good example of what it means to be a Mormon. I consider them to be my second parents. I am also grateful to the missionaries who taught me the gospel. Gracias.
Ana OvandoGuatemala City, Guatemala

I once asked a man in a fireside group what he would like to do more than anything else if he could just do whatever he wanted. His face lit up, he sat on the edge of his chair, his hands came to life, and he told me that he’d just love to have a whole room full of power tools and bring all the kids in the neighborhood in to help them build birdhouses, playhouses, chicken coops, or anything in the whole world they wanted to build. He loved kids; he loved tools; he loved building things; his whole face was aglow with it. I asked him what he was studying at school; the light went out, and he told me he was studying to be a civil engineer. Why? Because his father was one, it paid good money, and so on. I knew he had the capability of being a good civil engineer, but I asked him, “Have you ever thought about teaching shop instead and spending all day working with power tools and teaching kids how to build things?” He just about fell off his chair. His mouth hung open. His eyes lit up again. It had simply never occurred to him to take stock of what he really liked to do, of what really mattered to him in choosing a career. He had never stopped to think that his wonderful love for young people might be there for that kind of a purpose. He had decided the biggest part of the rest of his life with his eyes closed.

“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.

When I was a new missionary serving in Kobe, Japan, I noticed an unusual box hanging in the middle of the Church bulletin board.
“What is that?” I asked my companion.
“It’s a mailbox,” she explained. “Our Sunday School teacher Brother Nakatani* has an eight-year-old daughter named Misaki. She was hospitalized a few months ago with cancer.”
We began writing letters every week. Writing in Japanese was difficult for me. But as I wrote, I thought of what I would say to my own little sister, and somehow the words came easily.
One Sunday, Brother Nakatani pulled us aside and told us that Misaki loved our letters and wanted to meet us. He gave us the address of the hospital and told us when to be there. We stood behind a glass wall and spoke to Misaki through a telephone. She wore a little hat to cover her bald head. She looked frail but laughed and talked with us.
Not long afterward I was transferred to another area. I continued to write to Misaki. Sometimes I worried about my Japanese and wondered if the letters were difficult for her to read.
On the last month of my mission I was transferred to a ward in Misaki’s stake. I ran in to the stake president and immediately asked about Misaki.
“A few months ago we almost lost her,” he said. “But now she can go to school again. Her hair is growing back, and she is doing just fine.”
A few days later my companion and I went to church to help with a stake Primary activity. While we were there I saw Brother Nakatani.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She’s here,” he said. “Do you want to see her?”
I recognized her right away. A hat covered her head, but this time I could see dark tufts of newly grown hair underneath.
“Misaki Chan!” I called.
She looked up and smiled as I knelt beside her.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked.
She looked puzzled. I pointed to my nametag.
Misaki’s face brightened, and she clapped her hands with joy. Then, she pulled out the missionary packet that all Primary children had received and asked for my autograph. At that moment, I knew that every letter I had sent to her had been worth it. Each of my letters, imperfect as they were because of grammar and spelling errors, had brought her happiness.
Whenever I hesitate and fear that my kindness to others will be misunderstood, I remember the letters to Misaki. No matter how small or imperfect, kindness is always worth it.

My father’s grandmother, Bengtha Swenson, left beautiful Sweden disowned and knowing that she may never hear from her father or mother again in this life. Did they quarrel? Did she try to explain about the gospel? After whatever words had been said and she had left for Denmark to work for a year before boarding a ship set for the golden shores of America, did her mother waken in the night to weep for her daughter and for the words that had passed between them? They never had contact again.
The far and the near? Oh that we could draw nearer to heal the rifts we make with those we love!

Caliana McMurtrey of Big Thompson Ward, Loveland Colorado Stake, shows this spirit in her own way. Caliana knows what it is to give of herself. To celebrate her ninth birthday, she decided to have her first real haircut.

The hairstylist, Jill Harris, also a member of Big Thompson Ward, braided Caliana’s hair from the middle of her back to her hips, then cut 15? (38 cm) from the 30? (76 cm) length. Caliana donated her hair to an organization that makes wigs of real hair for children who have lost their hair because of cancer treatments, burns, or other medical problems.

Before the big moment, Caliana had never had a real haircut, just trims and snips. She decided to donate her hair after her mother told her about seeing a television program on charities that make children’s wigs.

“I want to do that because I have such long hair,” Caliana said.

“Tonight for our family home evening activity, we’re going to weed Sister Lee’s garden,” Dad announced at dinner.
Preston liked going to Sister Lee’s house. She had chickens and roosters and yummy berries growing in her garden.
After dinner Preston helped his family load shovels and rakes in the back of the van.
On the drive to Sister Lee’s house, Mom asked, “Why is service so important?”
Preston thought for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure.
“It makes you feel good,” Preston’s older brother said.
“That’s true,” Mom said. “Any other ideas? Does anyone remember the scripture we just memorized together? ‘When ye are in the service of your fellow beings …’”
The rest of the family joined in. “‘Ye are only in the service of your God’” (Mosiah 2:17).
“That’s right,” Mom said. “It’s from King Benjamin’s speech to his people. Preston, can you think of any other reasons why we serve?”
Preston thought of the comic book he had read that morning, the one about the boy dressed in a cape, saving the world. Superheroes did good things for other people. “Serving is like being a superhero!” he said.
Dad smiled. “You’re right. It is like being a superhero. You’re saving the day when you serve.”
They arrived at Sister Lee’s house. Preston liked the idea of being a superhero. He flew out of the car, grabbed a pair of gloves, and super-sprinted toward the garden.
First Sister Lee showed everyone the new baby chicks. Then the family got to work. There were hundreds and hundreds of weeds. They were the biggest weeds Preston had ever seen!
He imagined those weeds as evil forces, attacking the innocent tomato plants. Using his super strength, it was easy to pull the weeds out of the ground. He could feel his muscles getting stronger as he shook the dirt loose from the roots and threw the weeds in a pile.
Some of the weeds were too tough to pull by hand. Preston pulled out his super-power shovel, the one with the red blade. He jumped on the back with both his feet. The blade sunk deep into the dirt, and weeds came out even faster. The pile of pulled weeds grew until it was almost as tall as Preston!
Finally Sister Lee said, “That’s great! Come pick some berries, and then we’ll have a treat.”
Preston’s superhero strength was almost gone. With the last of his energy, he helped pick gooseberries, raspberries, and currants. Then Sister Lee brought out three different ice-cream flavors. Preston chose chocolate.
They were tired, but Preston felt good inside.
“Thank you so much for your service,” Sister Lee said. “You did in one hour what would have taken me a whole week.”
Preston smiled and licked his ice-cream cone.
Having super powers not only felt great. It tasted great too!

As it turned out, I did marry. I was thirty-four, and my husband was thirty-seven. We wanted to begin our family quickly, but children did not come easily. We told Heavenly Father that if he would give us a child, we would dedicate that child to his service. When I was thirty-seven, our first child, a daughter, was born. We asked our Heavenly Father for another child and again promised that we would consecrate this child to his will. When I was almost forty, we had a son. We asked for more children but did not receive them.
Emily is now almost ten and Danny is seven, and we are trying to raise them in fulfillment of the promises that we have made. Like Latter-day Saint parents everywhere, we acknowledge that God has given us our children, and we are trying to help them learn to love and serve him.

I’m sure I’ll never forget the branch president in Semarang, Central Java—President Samad. My companion and I were assigned to serve as a resource to him as he gained more ability to lead and teach the people of his branch. Very few missionary or training materials had at that time been translated into the Indonesian language.

We met with President Samad each Sunday for about forty-five minutes. He would ask us to discuss some topic—fast offerings, teacher development, or some other gospel-related subject—and we would prepare the best we could with this still-awkward second language of ours. We always began with prayer, and then he would say, “Sisters, you just do the best you can to tell me what you’ve prepared. Every so often, I’ll have you stop, and then I’ll tell you what the Spirit has taught me.” And that’s exactly what would happen. Those were some of the most spiritual experiences of my life.

In 1832, two years after the Church was organized, two missionaries went out into the New York area to preach the gospel. A man by the name of John Tanner, who was a very influential man in that district—community-minded and religious—heard that they were coming and that they were going to hold a meeting in the schoolhouse in his town that night. He was determined that they would not preach any false doctrine in his community, so he attended this meeting to keep them straight. Because he had been crippled for many months, he had to be wheeled to the meeting in a wheelchair, and he had his son wheel him right up in front of the pulpit so that he could look the missionaries in the face and correct them if they began to teach any false doctrine.
One of the elders told about the great apostasy and how the Church was reestablished. And then the other elder got up and told about the translation of the Book of Mormon and the doctrines taught therein and then bore his testimony.
John Tanner didn’t interrupt either one of them while they were speaking, but when they finished he said to his son, “I would like to meet those young men.” His son went up, brought the young men down, and introduced his father to them.
The father asked them if they would like to come and stay with him that night. Being good missionaries, they accepted his invitation and went home to stay with him that night. They talked about the gospel, and he asked them questions until the early hours of the morning. He became so interested in the gospel that he said, “If I were able, I think I would like to apply for baptism.”
One of the elders asked, “Do you think that the Lord could heal you?” He answered, “The Lord could if he wanted to.” And the elder said, “Would you like us to administer to you, give you a blessing?” He said he would, and the elders administered to him. That very day he left his wheelchair, never to return to it, and walked four miles to be baptized.
I have often thanked my Heavenly Father that those two missionaries went out and preached the gospel to John Tanner and that he had the courage when he heard the truth to accept it, even though he knew he would be ostracized in the community if he joined the Church.
Some years later he learned that the Church was in financial difficulty. Since he was well-fixed financially, he sold everything he had and gave it to President Joseph Smith to help meet the obligations. He remained true to the faith.
I am so thankful that his son remained true to the faith, and his son remained true to the faith, and his son, who was my father, remained true to the faith. And as a result I am here as a member of the Church today in the position I hold.