Gospel Story Finder

When Gordon and Del [Spencer’s brothers] put up hay … they would pitch it up on the wagon and Spencer would tromp it down. The older boys liked to reach the wagon at the same time, both with huge forks of hay. One would pitch his hay on top of Spencer, knocking him down, then the other would add his load. They would laugh while Spencer picked himself out, infuriated, threatening terrible punishments when he grew up . …

Occasionally he would enjoy a minor revenge. One hot Monday afternoon, hearing the Primary bell across the fields, Spencer said, “I’ve got to go to Primary.” As Spencer told the story years later: “They said, ‘You’re not going to Primary.’ I said, ‘If Pa were here, he’d let me go to Primary.’ Any they said, ‘Well, Pa is not here, and this is one time you’re not going to Primary.’ Gordon was seven years older than I was and Del was five . … They kept throwing the hay up and it all piled in the center of the wagon. They said, ‘What’s the matter with you up there?’ There was no sound. They looked off across the field and I was halfway to the meetinghouse.” (Pages 37 and 38.)

The Church and the gospel came into my life at the right moment. In my first year at the university, I had been exposed to many philosophies of men and new ideas and ways of living so different from the ones I was used to. Many of the values I had learned in my other church during my childhood were challenged by the new ideas that I had before me.
It was difficult for me because I was confused. There were so many new things that I felt were not correct, but they were so normal to others. And the knowledge I had was not enough for me to defend my values.
After I was baptized, it was a different thing for me to go back to the university. Now I had something to say to respond with love to others. I could say with confidence, “No, thank you, I don’t think that’s for me.” And now I knew why I had to say that. The Church and the Book of Mormon came at the right time for me. I’m truly grateful because they changed my life.

“It’s scripture time!” Lila said.
Lila loved reading to her little sister, Ánika, and her baby brother, Svetan. Soon Lila would be getting baptized! To be ready, she wanted to read the scriptures every day.
Lila opened the scripture storybook to the first page. Ánika and Svetan snuggled close so they could see the pictures.
“Listen carefully because I’m going to ask you questions after,” Lila said. Then she started reading the first chapter.
“Before we were born, we lived in heaven,” Lila read. “We didn’t have bodies yet. We were spirits.”
Lila, Ánika, and Svetan looked at the pictures of people dressed in white.
“Ready for your first question?” Lila turned to Ánika. “Where did you come from before you were born?”
Ánika clapped her hands. “Heaven!”
“That’s right,” said Lila. “And where did Svetan come from?”
“He came from heaven too,” Ánika said. Svetan giggled and put his fist in his mouth. Lila and Ánika laughed. Svetan was the cutest one-year-old in Argentina!
“Our whole family came from heaven,” Lila said. “Jesus did too. He came to help us so we can live with Heavenly Father again.” Lila pointed to the picture of Jesus on the page.
After she finished reading, Lila kept thinking about what it must have been like to live with Jesus in heaven. She wanted to be like Him. She wanted to always choose the right!
The next day at school, Lila’s tummy rumbled as she waited in line for breakfast. She could almost taste the empanadas as Señora Ruiz slid them onto her plate. They smelled so good!
Then Señora Ruiz poured Lila a cup of milk. Uh oh, Lila thought. The milk looked darker than usual. Sometimes her school added coffee or tea to the drinks.
“Is there any coffee or tea in the milk today?” Lila asked.
Señora Ruiz waved her hand. “A little coffee,” she said. “You won’t even taste it.”
Lila thought for a moment. She remembered how she wanted to be like Jesus and choose the right. She knew drinking coffee was something the prophets said not to do.
“No, thanks. I won’t have milk today,” Lila said. She gave Señora Ruiz a smile. Then she sat down to eat.
That night, Lila helped Papi wash dishes in the kitchen. She was still thinking about the scripture story. She was thinking about the milk too.
“Papi?”
“Yes?” Papi said.
“Why did Heavenly Father want us to have bodies?”
Papi thought while he rinsed another plate. “Well, He gave us bodies so we could become like Him,” he said. “Your body is a home for your spirit. That’s what we mean when we say our bodies are temples.”
Lila nodded. She sang a song about that in Primary sometimes! “So that’s why Heavenly Father wants us to take care of our bodies?”
“Exactly,” Papi said.
“Today at school, they put some coffee in the milk,” Lila said. “I didn’t drink it, though. I’m trying to take care of my temple.”
“I’m proud of you,” Papi said. He dried his hands on a towel and gave Lila a hug.
Lila hugged Papi tight. She was happy to take care of the body Heavenly Father had given her.

Henry and his friends were excited to visit a farm.
First they played in the pumpkin patch. “Look at that big pumpkin!” Henry called.
“And there’s a little baby one!” Adalynn said.
Then they went to see the goats and chickens. “The chicks are so fuzzy,” Peyton said.
Next it was time to ride the train. “All aboard!” Mom said.
The train chugged past horses and apple trees. It chugged past a big roll of hay that looked like a pig.
The train stopped at the corn maze.
“Hooray!” Henry said. This was the best part.
They followed a sign into the corn maze. Trails were everywhere. Some trails led to other trails. Some trails just ended. Henry and his friends walked and walked.
After a while, they all felt tired. “How do we get out of the maze?” Henry asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mom said.
Henry couldn’t see over the corn stalks. His heart beat fast. Maybe they were lost!
“Let’s say a prayer,” Mom said.
“OK,” Henry said. He bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, please help us get out of the corn maze.” After he said, “Amen,” Henry felt warm and happy.
Soon Henry heard someone shout, “Here’s the way out!”
Henry knew Heavenly Father helped them.
At bedtime, Henry said a prayer. He thanked Heavenly Father for helping him.
He smiled. It felt good to know that Heavenly Father loved him. And that Heavenly Father could always hear him pray, even in a corn maze!

Being meek means “enduring injury with patience and without resentment,”4 something that takes both strength and humility. In 1838, Thomas B. Marsh, the first President of the Quorum of the Twelve, left the Church, in part because of his resentment that Church leaders didn’t side with his wife in a dispute over milk. In his later years, he lamented the blessings he had lost and returned to the Church, saying: “I have frequently wanted to know how my apostacy [sic] began, and I have come to the conclusion that I must have lost the Spirit of the Lord out of my heart. … “… I felt angry and wrathful; and the Spirit of the Lord being gone, as the Scriptures say, I was blinded.”5

It is important to remember that in this Church, the husbands and fathers, and members of the family through them, enjoy a power and influence in their lives, far beyond the natural gifts of intellect and character of the father. I refer to the priesthood of God, which every worthy man and boy over 12 years of age enjoys.

A prominent Church and business leader in this community was born without life. His father, exercising his priesthood, made a promise that if his firstborn could live, that he, the father, would do all in his power to provide the proper example and teachings for his son. After a few minutes his infant son began to breathe and is well and vigorous to this day.

Late last year, I decided to talk to my stake president about something I had kept inside for a long time. Even though I’ve had a picture of the temple on my nightstand for over 10 years and have always had a temple recommend, I had never actually gone inside. A quiet fear had kept me from taking that step.
What made it even harder was that I had been deeply involved in the success of many temple-related events in Haiti, including the laying of the cornerstone at the dedication of the Port-au-Prince Haiti Temple as a member of the Haiti Communication Council and helped promote the temple in many ways. Yet still I couldn’t bring myself to go inside.
I told my stake president that it wasn’t a lack of faith but a fear I couldn’t overcome. Having grown up in the Church, I’ve always tried to be a faithful disciple of Christ. But the thought of actually entering the temple overwhelmed me. Maybe it was the sacredness of the place or the feeling that I wasn’t ready or worthy, even though I wanted to go.
He listened kindly and encouraged me to pray for help to overcome that fear. I took his advice seriously. As the new year began, I knelt in prayer and felt it was finally time to move forward. I no longer wanted to miss out on the blessings of the temple because of my doubts. I told the stake president I was ready to go, and he responded with words I’ll never forget: “May the Light of Christ illuminate your progress as you walk the covenant path and help you overcome your fear.” Those words gave me strength and peace.
I made plans to go to the temple with my mother on January 3, 2025—a day I will never forget. I was nervous but excited. Just before we left, I received a surprise phone call: a long-awaited prayer of mine had finally been answered. After several rejections, I was told that a request I had lost hope on had been approved. It felt like a direct message from heaven, a sign that God had been listening all along.
With a joyful heart, I entered the temple for the first time. The temple president and his wife welcomed me warmly, fully aware of the significance of this moment for me. Their kindness helped calm my remaining fears, and I felt a deep peace.
During the temple session, every word touched my soul. I felt a clarity and joy I had never experienced before. I knew I was in a holy place of revelation and blessings. Afterward, the temple president walked me to the door. That simple act made me feel loved and supported.
That day changed me. I overcame a fear that had weighed on me for years. I felt God’s love and guidance more clearly than ever before.
But the blessings didn’t stop there. When I returned home, I received a second confirmation—another answer to the same prayer but through a different person. It was as if the Lord wanted me to be absolutely sure that He had heard me. Receiving two answers to the same prayer was a powerful witness of His love and mercy.
As I reflected on everything, the words of President Russell M. Nelson came to mind: “It is significant that the Savior chose to appear to the people at the temple. It is His house. It is filled with His power. … I promise that increased time in the temple will bless your life in ways nothing else can.”
Now I know the temple truly is a refuge—a sacred place where I will continue to return for light, direction, and peace.

When my mission ended, I was apprehensive about my return home. I did not know where I would live. My parents had divorced when I was young, and I had lived alone and done several odd jobs to provide for myself. Fortunately, my last mission companion and his parents offered me a place to live. This helped me a lot because his family was very strong in the gospel. They provided me with a roof over my head and this helped me avoid many of the problems experienced by some returned missionaries.

Steven J. Lund
After I taught sixth grade for three years, I learned that if I taught for four more years, the school district would pay part of my tuition to receive my master’s degree. It seemed like a good plan—until the Spirit prompted me to quit my job and go back and get my degree right then. My wife had a similar prompting, so we moved forward. It meant we would have to pay for school ourselves. But because we did, I was hired to teach at BYU—Provo. That window of opportunity never would have been open had we waited four more years. We did not know how things would work out, but the Lord directed our paths just as He promised.

Joseph Smith gave enthusiastic support to a “Young Gentlemen’s and Young Ladies Relief Society of Nauvoo,” which developed under Heber C. Kimball’s guiding hand. It began simply as a small and casual discussion gathering. But week by week more youth came and bigger and bigger meeting places were arranged. Once when the group met in the large room above the Prophet’s store, he came to speak to them. He praised Elder Kimball for helping organize this “good and glorious work,” complimented the youth on their good conduct, “and taught them how to behave in all places, explained to them their duties, and advised them to organize themselves into a society for the relief of the poor.” Specifically, he asked them to fund and then build a house for a brother who was lame. In response, the youth drew up a constitution, elected officers, called monthly meetings, and opened their membership to anyone under age thirty in Nauvoo, LDS or not, including young men and “the tender, lovely, and beautiful females of our city.”

Shauna Squires, formerly of the Crescent First Ward, Sandy Utah Crescent South Stake, and her horse Poplar’s Lightning had been together through many rodeos and competitions, and winning was familiar to both of them. Still, being crowned Miss Appaloosa America for 1978 was an unexpected honor for Shauna. And of course, Poplar’s Lightning, who had been judged the champion performance horse in both the Utah and Arizona state competitions, was with her. Shauna was a freshman at BYU when she received the honor over 27 other girls in national competition in Billings, Montana. Last September, however, she relinquished her title for another one when she became Mrs. Mike Smith in the Salt Lake Temple.

1828–1905
“Nothing other than pure devotion to [my] faith has brought me here.”
He was a M?ori chief in New Zealand.
When missionaries came to their country, he and his wife, Mere, joined the Church.
He went to Utah to do temple work for his people.
He went back to New Zealand as a missionary. He did family history work there and taught the gospel.
As quoted in the Salt Lake Tribune, July 20, 1894, 8.

Amy was the fastest runner in her third-grade class. She loved to run, especially as she skimmed across the furrows in her father’s plowed fields and chased the seagulls flying above her. No one—boy or girl—ever beat her in races at school. She could jump high and far too. She practiced jumping over ditch banks, even when they were wider than she was tall. If Sara or Grant asked to see her jump over a tree stump or a hedge, she would take a long run and fly over it.
Every night, Amy snuggled up next to Mom on her bed while Mom brushed Amy’s hair and curled it into long ringlets. Amy’s baptism was coming up, but Mom was too sick to be with her on that special day. Amy listened closely as Mom and Dad told her what to expect. They told her stories of their own baptisms. Dad had been baptized in a large stream, and Mom had been baptized in the font in the Salt Lake Tabernacle.
“I’m excited to be baptized,” Amy said, “but I’m curious about the Holy Ghost.”
“You’ve already been helped by the Holy Ghost,” Dad said. “Remember when you wanted to be a better reader? You prayed for help, and help came. Your testimony came from the power of the Holy Ghost, and so did your faith to be healed when the bishop and I gave you a blessing when you were sick.”
Mom explained that one of the gifts of the Holy Ghost that Amy could receive was being able to see things to come*—things that would help her make wise choices.
Only five weeks after Amy’s baptism and confirmation, she and Sara and Grant climbed on top of Grant’s garage to look out over the stream and surrounding fields. Wild yellow roses grew on the banks of the stream, and the fields were sparkling green.
“Hey, Amy,” Sara said. “I dare you to jump from here onto the shed.” She pointed to the roof of the nearby shed.
Amy hesitated. She knew it wasn’t good to take dares, but she also knew that she was a good jumper. “OK,” she finally said. But as she stood up—ready to jump—she imagined herself falling to the ground between the garage and shed. She thought she saw herself lying on the ground.
Seeing the danger in her mind, Amy said: “I can’t. It’s too far.” Sara and Grant didn’t say anything as Amy sat down. She was glad they didn’t tease her. They seemed to know that she had made the right decision.
That evening, Amy told Mom and Dad what had happened at Grant’s house. “I knew that it was a gift from the Holy Ghost. He showed me that I would fall if I tried to jump. I could see myself lying on the ground, really hurt.”
Mom held Amy close. Dad told her how thankful he was that she had listened to the Holy Ghost. And both Mom and Dad told her never to climb on Grant’s garage again!
“I won’t,” Amy promised.
Amy never forgot the gift she was given that day by the Holy Ghost and the change it made in her life.

I still have a picture of the green chairs Elder Pistone and Elder Morasco sat in while they taught my family in our home in Argentina. They taught with so much spiritual power that my 10-year-old sister and I (age 9) would run to touch the chairs after they left, hoping that power would rub off on us.
I soon learned that the power didn’t come from the chairs but from having a covenant relationship with God and Jesus Christ.

Every year, my husband and I and both our extended families go on a camping trip to celebrate the end-of-year holiday season. We choose a site that can accommodate our numbers and then camp from Christmas Eve until just after New Year’s Day.
These camps are a wonderful time for us to strengthen our family bonds. Because most of us are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, these camps also strengthen our testimony of Christ and of His Church as we celebrate His birth.
At the end of 2020, we found a site in Bikenibeu Village, Tarawa, which has a large mwaneaba (a traditional meetinghouse) that our whole family could sleep under. As always, my dear sister-in-law, Meteta, joined us in the camping festivities.
Meteta lived with my husband and me and, at 71 years old, she was more like a mother to us. She was still quite healthy and active, except that she walked on crutches as a result of a surgery she had 20 years earlier. Meteta loved our Christmas camping trips and eagerly participated in our family games and activities.
On the 31st of December, a few hours before our New Year’s celebration, Meteta was so excited. She took an early shower, got dressed and then sat down in the mwaneaba, ready to enjoy the night. Everyone else was rushing around, getting ready, too.
Then, in the midst of all the preparations, Meteta quietly said to me, "I have a burning pain in my chest." I dropped everything I was doing, called my husband and another sister-in-law over, and soon several of us were trying to help her.
It all happened so fast. About fifteen minutes later, Meteta started to gasp for air. My husband and son gave her a priesthood blessing while we waited for the ambulance. Sadly, the doctors couldn’t do much more for her. Soon after we arrived at the hospital, our Meteta was gone.
That evening, the world stopped for us. As we slowly made our way back to the campsite—to share the tragic news and inform everyone that we had to break camp—my husband and I reflected on Meteta’s final moments. The doctors had done their best to revive her, and those around us tried to give us hope, but we felt a strange kind of peace that told us it was Meteta’s time to go.
Our faith in Jesus Christ and our testimony of His gospel also helped the rest of our family accept what happened. We had just spent a week in both worldly and spiritual celebration, but as our holiday camp transitioned into a funeral, we tuned the world out completely.
We mourned the loss of our dear Meteta—she had been a great source of stability in our home, and we would have to make many adjustments without her—but in the wake of her passing, we talked more about the meaning of our own lives.
We focused on our Saviour and on His divine gift of exaltation. We expressed deep gratitude for His atoning sacrifice and His victory over the grave. It was a time of spiritual renewal for all of us. As we worked together to organise and prepare for Meteta’s earthly farewell, our thoughts were on Heavenly Father’s plan of salvation, and on His Son, who has made it possible for us to reunite with Meteta again, one day.
Our family holiday camps are always boisterous events, full of music and dance, talent shows, laughter and fun, but this particular Christmas, the happiness of our festivities seemed to dim in the light of true joy—the joy that our Saviour Jesus Christ brought when He was born into this world to give us life.
Our understanding of His gospel is what brought our family peace after Meteta’s passing. It helped us to remember the real meaning of Christmas.

I remember the smile of Sister Ruby Haight. She was the wife of Elder David B. Haight, who was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. As a young man he served as the president of the Palo Alto stake in California. He prayed over, and worried about, the girls in the Mia Maid class in his own ward.

So President Haight was inspired to ask the bishop to call Ruby Haight to teach those young girls. He knew she would be a witness of God who would lift, comfort, and love the girls in that class.

Sister Haight was at least 30 years older than the girls she taught. Yet 40 years after she taught them, each time she would meet my wife, who had been one of the girls in her class, she would put out her hand, smile, and say to Kathy, “Oh! My Mia Maid.” I saw more than her smile. I felt her deep love for a sister she still cared for as if she were her own daughter. Her smile and warm greeting came from seeing that a sister and daughter of God was still on the covenant path home.

A recent issue of the Church News carried the story of a group of farmers in a small Idaho community. May I read briefly from that account?
“It is 6 a.m. in late October, and frost already hangs in the air over the sugar beet fields of Rupert, Idaho.
“The long arms of the ‘beeters’ stretch out over twelve rows, slicing the tops off sugar beets. Behind them, the harvesters thrust their steel fingers into the soil and scoop up the beets, pulling them up toward a belt and into a waiting truck.
“… This is the Rupert Idaho Welfare Farm, and those who are working here today are volunteers. … At times more than 60 machines [are] working in harmony together— … all owned by local farmers.”
The work goes on throughout the day.
“[At] 7 p.m. … the sun has set, leaving the land dark and cold once again. The farmers head home, exhausted and happy.
“They have finished well another day.
“They have harvested the Lord’s sugar beets” (Neil K. Newell, “A Harvest in Idaho,” Church News, 20 Mar. 2004, 16).
Such remarkable volunteer service goes on constantly to assure supplies for the storehouses of the Lord.

Several weeks ago my mind was stimulated when Elder Douglas L. Callister of the Seventy was asked to give a brief history of his grandfather LeGrand Richards in a quorum meeting. Among other interesting things he reported was this: When Elder Richards was a young bishop, he visited those who were less active. He boldly invited them to speak in sacrament meeting to the subject “What my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints means to me.” Remarkably, several of them responded positively, and that experience put them on the road back to full activity in the Church.

When I was 17, I was doubting that I would go on a mission. I really had no intention of going because I was focused on other things, like dating, movies, and parties.
As I saw friends who remained true to the gospel and had their minds focused on serving a mission, I had a distinct feeling to get on my knees and ask the Lord for guidance. I asked in sincerity if The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church. I received a confirmation by the gift of the Holy Ghost.
From that day on, I began preparing myself to go on a mission. It was very hard work, but it was worth it. I was able to follow my friends into the mission field, knowing that I was doing what was right.
Now I am on my mission, finding people so they can have the same blessings I have. I know that I couldn’t be in a better place than I am now.

Young women in Liberia, Africa, taught each other about their divine nature and the Young Women Personal Progress program with a little help from young women on the other side of the world during a special district Young Women conference in August 2009.
Training and preparation began three months in advance for the young women, who live in the Monrovia Liberia Bushrod Island District of the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission. The theme for the conference was “Princess for a Day, Queen for Eternity.” Each branch in the district was responsible to present a workshop on a value and create a short skit teaching another value, emphasizing how a daughter of God would treat others and herself.
“These young women are the future of Africa, the pioneers of their country in this glorious gospel,” said Sister Belinda Wire, a full-time missionary who participated in the conference with her husband, Elder Bill Wire.
After the workshops, skits, and other activities, organizers presented the young women with letters sent by young women from a different country, sharing their testimonies of the gospel and Personal Progress.
“Hearts were united across the world,” Sister Wire said. “As these young sisters held the letters, they knew that those young women believe as they do, read the same books, follow the same programs, are guided by the same prophet, and are loved by the same God.”