Gospel Story Finder

A boy named Stan related the following experience to me. One summer afternoon his younger brother was involved in an accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Immediately after the accident, friends of both boys, as well as ward members, were very supportive and attentive. Within a few weeks, however, the visits and offers to help became fewer and fewer. Before long Stan, his brother, and other members of the family felt isolated because of the tragedy. A few short weeks were simply not enough time for them to come to terms with the new and difficult realities that confronted them individually and as a family. Continued support from caring friends would have been truly appreciated.

As we stood in the beautiful temple baptistry, one of these guests asked an intriguing question. He said something like this: “In our tribal traditions, our ancestors are so important to us—how is it that you connect your families together through the generations?” It was a beautiful teaching moment as we then shared how in a gift of love and service, many faithful members of the Church perform vital ordinances, such as baptisms, on behalf of loved ones who have died. We then took him to the sealing room where we showed him the altar where families are united for the eternities and had him look into the mirrors which face one another—symbolic of the eternal links made between past and future generations.
This good man had many follow up questions and left the temple deeply affected by what he had seen and felt. He eagerly took a copy of the My Family booklet so he could collect names and stories of his own ancestors. With great sincerity he expressed gratitude for being in the temple and left with a new understanding of God’s plan for eternal families and the importance of sacred temples in that plan.

I have always enjoyed reading the New Era, but not until recently have I realized how much goes into putting it together.
Our seminary visited the Church Office Building in Salt Lake City and went on the floors involved in putting together the magazines. We were amazed at all of the friendly people and all of the time and effort they put into making each issue the best possible.
After seeing all of this effort firsthand, I will always appreciate the New Era and be sure I read it from cover to cover.
Rebecca ClarkMidland, Michigan

Early last year, Elder Allistair B. Odgers asked stake presidents to set a goal for the number of full-time teaching missionaries we would have serving in December 2022.
After much prayer and fasting, I set a goal that would stretch us as a stake; a goal that would require great faith and bring spiritual experiences and miracles to members’ lives. I knew the number of currently serving missionaries, and the prospective missionaries we were working with, would guarantee 10-12 missionaries serving in December. I felt inspired to offer 25 as our stake goal.
Immediately I began meeting with our bishops, branch presidents, high council and stake council members. We invited all to unite and find those additional 10-15 missionaries we were not currently working with. Shortly afterwards, during April general conference, President Russell M. Nelson again invited all young men, and young women who desired, to serve a full-time mission. President Nelson encouraged all to seek and expect miracles as we increase our spiritual momentum.1
Elder Odgers asked the stake presidents in our coordinating council, to invite bishops and branch presidents to invite two young men to serve a mission every week. Believing in miracles, I encouraged our leaders again to renew efforts to find missionaries, emphasizing we would have spiritual experiences and miracles as we sought inspiration and guidance about whom to invite.
At our next stake high council meeting, a brother told us he had two sons eligible to serve missions. One had a desire to serve the Lord, the other did not. This son, Sione, had been living in the States, had a girlfriend, and said he had not received an answer to his prayers as to whether he should serve a mission.
In the same spirit as Alma, and with tears in his eyes, this father asked if we would pray for Sione to receive an answer from the Lord.
Like everyone, I continued to pray, and to fast for this young man.
I awoke early one Saturday morning and lay pondering when I had a most amazing and humbling experience. A vision of Sione came to my mind. I was instructed to visit with him the next day, after my daily duties were completed. The vision unfolded and I was given specific questions to ask Sione. And I heard what his answers would be, and how I was to respond to him. The message was clear and specific.
That evening, I opened my fast and prayed everything in the vision would remain clear so I could complete the assignment I had been given.
I attended a ward conference the following day, conducted some interviews then headed to my car. As I drove from the chapel, the Spirit reminded me of my assignment. In a strange but spiritual way, I saw again the vision I had received the day before.
Arriving at the family’s home, I knocked on the door and was told their dad was overseas, but that Mum was home. When Mum came to the door, I asked if I could meet with her and Sione. He was busy cooking dinner. Mum invited me in and the three of us sat in the lounge and talked.
I asked Sione to offer a prayer and immediately the vision unfolded as clearly as it had the previous day.
I asked Sione what he thought about serving a mission? Word for word, he answered as I saw in the vision. He explained he wasn’t sure if he should serve a mission; that he had pondered and prayed but didn’t think he’d received an answer. I enquired if he had a patriarchal blessing. He said, “yes”. I asked, “What does your patriarchal blessing say?” He replied, “I will serve a mission”.
Exactly as I had been instructed, I inquired, “How does the Lord answer prayers?” Sione struggled, but then shared his thoughts. Strengthened by the Spirit and in an emotional and humble attitude, I said, “I have been instructed by the Lord, Jesus Christ, through revelation, to come and visit with you today. I testify to you that prayers are answered by feelings, impressions, reading the scriptures and many other ways. Today I am here on behalf of the Saviour, Jesus Christ, in answer to your prayer and to remove all confusion and doubt. Sione, the Saviour invites you to serve a mission. He has a work for you to do and it is a work that only Elder Hala can do as there is someone special waiting for you to invite into the waters of baptism”. This is where the vision ended.
I asked how he felt. He bowed his head and cried, “My prayer has been answered and I want to serve a mission”.
Brother Hala will soon complete his medical and dental checks then submit his mission application. Modern miracles really do happen when we put our trust in the Lord Jesus Christ.

On a memorable Christmas Eve in 1937, Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, then a full-time missionary, and his companion walked from Salzburg, Austria, to the village of Oberndorf, nestled in the Bavarian Alps. While visiting the village known as the inspiration for the hymn “Silent Night,”1 they paused in a small church to listen to Christmas music sung by a choir.
“A crisp, clear winter night enveloped us as we began our return trip,” Elder Wirthlin recalled. “We walked under a canopy of stars and across the smooth stillness of new-fallen snow.”2
As they walked, the young missionaries shared their hopes, dreams, and goals for the future. In that heavenly setting, Elder Wirthlin renewed his commitment to serve the Lord: “I made up my mind that I would magnify any callings I received in the Lord’s kingdom.”3

The most outstanding example of individual effort that I know of is represented in the college career of Jim Thorpe. Of Lamanite ancestry, he attended Carlisle Indian School. There he compiled a record that has never been approached. He was one of the main players on the football team and was such a hard runner that for fun he would tell the other team which way he was coming. When his team had to kick the ball, he could kick it 64 meters.
One year little Carlisle Indian School defeated mighty Harvard University, with Thorpe kicking and running to score the points that won the game. Another time against Army Academy, he picked up one Army kick and ran 82.2 meters with it to score, but it was called back on a penalty. So Thorpe picked up the next kickoff and ran 86.8 meters to score!
In track and field, Carlisle Indian School faced a tough dual meet with strong, unbeaten Lafayette College (in Pennsylvania). Jim Thorpe came to the meet accompanied by one other man. Since Lafayette College had a squad of 48 athletes, an official said, “You mean the two of you are the whole Carlisle Indian School team?”
“No,” said Thorpe. “Only me. The other fellow is the student manager.”
Against Lafayette College that day, Thorpe won the high jump, broad jump, shotput, discus throw, 109 meter hurdles, 201 meter hurdles, and finished third in the 91.4 meter dash. Carlisle Indian School won the meet 71–41.

Gail Whereatt and her family in St. Paul, Minnesota, enjoy canoe camping. Although not as limited as a backpacker, Gail must still be careful of the food they take. The Whereatts enjoy exploring the Boundary Waters, but this area is restricted and no cans or bottles are allowed. Since they have to portage (carry over land) the canoes up to a mile in places, weight is a concern.
“We have to tie the food up every night to protect it from animals,” says Gail, “but on the last trip, our dog, not the bears, ate the bacon.”
Gail has learned a trick to making a refreshing dessert that would work in any cold stream or lake. She mixes a gelatin dessert according to direction, adds dried fruit, and seals it in a plastic bag. She then places this bag in another larger plastic bag with a few rocks, ties it securely with a rope, and drops it in a cold lake or stream. The rocks make the bags sink to a cool depth, and the rope is tied to a branch so the package can be retrieved. The dessert will set up in several hours.

Some years ago a friend named Louis related to me a tender account about his gentle, soft-spoken mother. When she passed away, she left to her sons and daughters no fortune of finance but rather a heritage of wealth in example, in sacrifice, in obedience.
After the funeral eulogies had been spoken and the sad trek to the cemetery had been made, the grown family sorted through the meager possessions the mother had left. Among them, Louis discovered a note and a key. The note instructed: “In the corner bedroom, in the bottom drawer of my dresser, is a tiny box. It contains the treasure of my heart. This key will open the box.”
All wondered what their mother had of sufficient value to place under lock and key.
The box was removed from its resting place and opened carefully with the aid of the key. As Louis and the others examined the contents of the box, they found an individual photo of each child, with the child’s name and birth date. Louis then pulled out a homemade valentine. In crude, childlike penmanship, which he recognized as his own, he read the words he had written 60 years before: “Dear Mother, I love you.”
Hearts were tender, voices soft, and eyes moist. Mother’s treasure was her eternal family. Its strength rested on the bedrock foundation of “I love you.”

I remember having a particularly difficult time at one point during my mission to Cleveland, Ohio. I wondered why I wasn’t seeing the same tangible success other missionaries in my area seemed to be having. My own weakness was foremost in my mind as I pondered the dilemma. I couldn’t help but think that I was doing something wrong, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. I counseled with the Lord many times about the situation and also turned to the scriptures. One morning in my study of the Book of Mormon, I came across a verse that was the answer to my prayers and added strength to my testimony.
“Wherefore, I, Nephi, did strive to keep the commandments of the Lord, and I did exhort my brethren to faithfulness and diligence” (1 Nephi 17:15).
I had always thought of Nephi as a great prophet who never made any mistakes. I admired Nephi, but I felt I would never be as great as he was. However, when I read this verse written by Nephi, I realized that he was mortal and imperfect also. He didn’t write, “I, Nephi, kept all the commandments perfectly all the time.” Rather, he wrote that he “did strive to keep the commandments of the Lord.”
That simple verse touched me. Suddenly I realized that I am no different from Nephi or any other great prophet or missionary. We’ve been given the same commandments, and they will be judged on how well they improved their time on earth just as I will be. I don’t have to be perfect; I only have to strive to keep the commandments and do the very best I can with the abilities I have been given. In the end, when I come up short of perfection, it will be the Lord’s grace that will make up for the rest. Through this otherwise simple verse, I gained a greater testimony of the scriptures as communication from Heavenly Father.

I’ve had many problems with my temper. I used to yell at people because I thought they were such idiots. I would easily and quickly lose my temper. The way I overcame this was by reading the Book of Mormon, writing my feelings down on paper, and making a conscious effort to change. After about a week, I could tell that I wasn’t getting angry at people nearly as often.

Elder John O. Leyer, 19Indianapolis, Indiana

As I progressed through high school, the first section was my norm. So I became a little lazy and didn’t practice any harder than I needed to in order to stay in a top spot.
Each year there was an All-State band event where every school selected the best player of each section to be a part of a large multi-school band. It was an honor to be selected, but I forgot that fact. I took it for granted when I was selected and showed up one year on performance day having only glanced at the music. I’d had the ability to master the music, but it would have actually taken some work—work that I hadn’t put in.
I knew I couldn’t play the music very well this year, but I’d been to All-State in previous years and knew how it worked: because I came from the first chair section in my school I would be placed in the first chair section in the All-State band. I wouldn’t be much good to the band this year, but I could fake my way through the day and have fun.
The air was abuzz with excitement as the band students gathered. Then the room grew quiet as the band director stepped onto the podium. What he said next concerned me.
“Instead of grouping everyone based on your position at school, you will try out for the seat in your section. You will play the music you have prepared for a judge, and he or she will place you in your appropriate seat. You do not have to try out, but if you do not, you will automatically be placed at the bottom of the last section.”
My lack of preparation landed on my chest like a pallet of bricks. The music was hard this year, and I had not practiced. I knew how awful I would sound in front of the other first chair section members if I chose to try out. But if I didn’t try out, I would be placed at the bottom of the last section. In all fairness, I can now admit that I deserved to be at the bottom of the last section. However, at that time I was prideful and could not bear to be in the last section. Even if I hadn’t practiced, I knew I was first section material and decided that I would be in that section no matter what.
At the last moment, as the first section clarinets were going to the tryout room, I hurried to join them. One by one, each clarinetist played. My heart sank when it became clear they’d all practiced. Then it was my turn.
In my pride, I put the clarinet to my mouth and proceeded to embarrass myself as I played. I did not have to imagine the amused looks of my fellow clarinetists and the rather horrified look of the judge when I finished. The judge kindly said nothing, but his thoughts were clear enough when he placed me in the last chair in my section.
My stubbornness had kept me in the section I thought I deserved, but it was no victory. I couldn’t hold my head up or participate freely in the other students’ excited conversations during the breaks. I was a fake among the genuine. There was no way I could convince them that I actually belonged with them. They had heard me play.
“I’m really quite good,” I wanted to say. “It’s just that I didn’t practice.” But I never said it because I knew what their response would have been: “You should have practiced like we did.”
I knew that when it came right down to the performance, my potential didn’t matter—only the current skill that I’d developed did.
The saving grace of the day was that I learned clearly and deeply the meaning of hard work and preparation. I saw a connection to the parable of the ten virgins. I had arrived at All-State without oil, so to speak. I could not borrow from the skills of the other clarinetists. I now know that each minute of every day is the time to prepare—especially in the aspects of life that really matter.

“I had just moved to Atlanta, my first time away from home,” says Tara Towsley of the North Point Ward, Roswell Georgia Stake. “Needless to say, I was a bit intimidated. I remember sitting in sacrament meeting thinking about going home, when the most wonderful lady came up and introduced herself. She told me her name, said she was the Relief Society president, and told me where Relief Society was held. She said she was excited that I was there. I felt better immediately.”
“I’m so grateful for the Relief Society organization. I feel it has better prepared me for the next stage of my life,” says Tara Towsley. “It has given me the opportunity to befriend women older and wiser and has helped my testimony mature in so many ways. It took time for me to find my place, but with time Relief Society began to feel like home.”

A year after Cyclone Gabrielle tried to erase it from existence, the primary school of a small New Zealand community continues to forge ahead, conducting classes in the Nuhaka meetinghouse of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
And now students have a playground, donated through the efforts of many others throughout the country, who have pitched in to help the school thrive.
On 11 February 2023, Cyclone Gabrielle raced through New Zealand’s Hawke’s Bay, and left in its wake destruction and suffering. The Nuhaka Primary School in the small Hawke’s Bay community of the same name suffered extensive damage and was finally declared uninhabitable.
But through a unique collaboration between The Church and the Ministry of Education, the school obtained a wonderful solution to this and moved into the Nuhaka meetinghouse to hold classes.
Nine months later, the school continued to thrive in the church meetinghouse-turned-school during the week and students have settled in, enjoying the benefits of meeting in a building that has been dedicated to the Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Principal Raelene McFarlane said the use of the Church’s meetinghouse has been an answer to many prayers in the small community. Nine months after the school moved into the building, the results couldn’t have been better.
There have been hiccups—an October 2023 rainstorm washed dirt and debris from farmland through a back door and into the building, necessitating the temporary removal of the school to the local M?ori marae (community building) while the mud was cleaned up and the carpets were replaced. But McFarlane says the kids have proven very resilient and were anxious to come back to this building.
“What are the odds of having to pack up twice?” McFarlane said with a laugh. “The marae welcomed us in, and Maui (Aben, the president of the Gisborne New Zealand Stake) arrived that afternoon with the facilities maintenance people, and we got everything in motion to take care of that issue really fast,” McFarlane said.
But five weeks later, when school began again, they were still missing a key component of all elementary schools—a playground area. While there was plenty of grass around the Nuhaka Ward meetinghouse, there were not many shady trees and nothing to climb.
Enter Pacific Assist Foundation. As detailed last September, Pacific Assist Director Callum Blair was able to obtain some stored equipment from Torbay School in Auckland.
After a few months tying down some loose ends, it was shipped to Nuhaka and installed, along with some overhead shade provided by the Church, with the assistance of local missionaries in February.
Elder Nathan Woods, of Garden City, Utah, USA, and Elder Jacob Hughes of Branson, Missouri, USA assisted in the installation of the playground, along with Blair and other members of his Pacific Assist Team. Elder Woods said he and Elder Hughes were delighted to be of assistance.
“As missionaries, we cherish opportunities to serve others,” Woods said. “When you help others, it helps you remember the times that people have helped you, and you remember how it feels and how much those people mean to you.”
Elder Hughes agreed, noting that the opportunity to serve is an opportunity to grow as a person and to appreciate others even more. “It’s amazing to know that when we serve those around us, God remembers that effort.”
He continued, “I think when I get to help someone in a way that brings them joy, it gives me a glimpse of the love He has for them. It was an awesome experience to see how excited everyone was who helped with this.
“They just knew how much joy it would bring to these children who had gone through so much.”
And the kids really appreciated the effort expended to make it possible for them. “They were so excited when it was finally ready for them,” McFarlane said. “We couldn’t keep them focused on their work, so we finally just told them to go try it out!”
Meanwhile, the old primary school is being removed and a new school is being planned for the same site. While McFarlane hopes the new school will be completed and ready to move into in 2025, she says she, her staff and students are so grateful for the gift of the use of the Nuhaka Ward meetinghouse they have now.
“Having to go to the marae last October really reminded us how fortunate we were to be able to hold school in this building,” she reflects. “Everything we need now is here, and we’re able to teach our students all the things they need to grow and thrive.
“It is such a blessing and I’m sure, after we eventually move out into our own new space, that we’ll all look back on our time here with tremendous fondness and gratitude,” McFarlane said. “These kids will remember and talk about this for the rest of their lives.”

When I was only about eight years old, I wondered about the nature of God. One day my father read the scripture from the book of James that promises that if we lack wisdom, we can “ask of God, that giveth … liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given” (James 1:5). Those words filled my heart and were imprinted on my mind.
When I was alone in my bedroom, I prayed to God, asking Him to tell me if the church I was attending was the right one. I wanted Him to answer me immediately. But that didn’t happen. God didn’t do what I wanted, and I was sad that He hadn’t answered my prayer immediately. I wanted to know! I had done what I thought was sufficient.
Growing up, I had the opportunity to search for the answer in many churches. As I did, I got more and more confused. Everybody contradicted each other, and they would just gloss over my questions about the nature of God.
Years later, tired of searching, I said, “There is no answer.”
I began to do things that some modern youth do, such as partying and participating in a lot of worldly diversions. Each week I sank further and further into darkness because my decisions weren’t the best. The bad habits were also distancing me from my family, who had always supported me.
But once again the desire came to me to ask God. I prayed, “Father, I am here waiting. I have searched, and I have not found. The scriptures promise answers, but nothing is coming. Look at me. I am alone. I want to know, but I don’t know how to find You.”
At that time only—not before and not after, but just when I needed it—I felt that my chest burned as strong as if a volcano were inside of me. I couldn’t control the tears. I knew it was an answer to my question.
In the afternoon, when I was at school, I was thinking about my answer when my best friend asked me, “What are you thinking about, Ismael?” I didn’t give him a truthful answer then, telling him that I was thinking about the beach and that I wanted to go see the sunrise in the morning. I invited him to go.
“I can’t,” he told me, smiling.
“Why not?” I asked him. “What are you doing so early in the morning?”
“Seminary,” he said.
“Seminary? What is seminary?” I asked him. He explained to me that it was classes that his church held.
“How long have you been going to a church?” I asked him, surprised.
“As long as I can remember. I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
I told him I wanted to go and see. I knew inside that it was an answer to my long years of prayer.
The next day I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and went to seminary. The greatest surprise was that they were studying the Bible. I can say that I have never felt such a strong feeling of peace as I did when I entered the branch’s building in Matancita, the Dominican Republic, where pure doctrine was shared, delicious to a soul that had sought so anxiously. The hymns sung filled my mind and my heart with a thought: “This is the truth.”
“Wow,” I thought, “I want to feel this every day.” I asked when I could come back, and the teacher, my friend’s mother, gave me the class schedule and invited me to come to the branch’s Sunday services also.
From then on, every Monday through Friday, I got up at 5:30 to go to seminary and every Sunday to church. I couldn’t miss. I had found what I had always been looking for.
Sadly, there were no missionaries to teach me and baptize me. After a year and a half and much prayer, missionaries arrived and taught me all of the missionary lessons in a week. I remember the moment when I was submerged in the blue waters on my village’s beautiful beach.
I now enjoy the privilege of being not a stranger or foreigner (see Ephesians 2:19) but a brother of all those who have entered in the path of the Lord, the strait and narrow path.

Before President Hugh B. Brown was a General Authority, he served in England as an officer in the Canadian army and had great power. Men stood at attention before him and called him “sir.” One day Brother Brown received a message that he was wanted in the hospital. When he got there, someone directed him to a little room where a sick young man lay. Brother Brown remembered that he had once been that young man’s Sunday School teacher. “Brother Brown,” said the young man, “would you use your authority in my behalf? The doctors say I cannot live. Will you give me a blessing?” All the pride Brother Brown felt in wearing the uniform of the king disappeared as he laid his hands upon the boy’s head and gave him a blessing. The help that the boy needed was not from any authority of an officer in the king’s army but from the authority of the priesthood.

As I continued to think about my experience with Pablo, I felt sad because my four daughters were grown and the nine grandchildren I had at the time didn’t live nearby. I then thought, “How could I ever help them the way Pablo’s father helped him? Had too much time gone by?” As I offered a prayer in my heart, the Spirit whispered this profound truth: “It’s never too early and it’s never too late to begin this important process.” I knew immediately what that meant. I could hardly wait to get home. I asked my wife, Sharol, to call all of our children and tell them that we needed to visit with them; I had something really important to tell them. My urgency startled them a little.

We began with our oldest daughter and her husband. I said: “Your mother and I want you to know that we were your age once. We were 31, with a small family. We have an idea of what you might encounter. It might be a financial or health challenge. It may be a crisis of faith. You may just get overwhelmed with life. When these things happen, we want you to come and talk to us. We’ll help you get through them. Now, we don’t want to be in your business all the time, but we want you to know that we are always in your corner. And while we’re together, I want to tell you about an interview I just had with a young man named Pablo.”

After the story, I said, “We don’t want you to miss helping your children and our grandchildren understand these important truths.”

It all started when, during one of her hospital stays, Brittany began drawing funny, chaotic cartoon scenes and posting them on her door. One scene featured a carnival with roller coasters, bumper cars, a person stuck in a fake cannon, and even someone getting buried by an out-of-control cotton-candy machine. Another showed different events in the hospital, including a patient escaping in a wheelchair.
Children especially loved her drawings, and all sorts of people would stop at her door to smile and laugh. Brittany ended up making copies of these drawings so the hospital could put them up on the walls. She’d found that something she did for fun could provide a way to bless others.

One of the trials that our family endured was when my oldest brother got sick and, after a while, died. It was really hard for us at first, but our family was able to overcome that trial. Because our family was sealed in the temple, we know that we will be with my brother again and with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ when the right time comes.
I know that this trial was one of the ways the Lord prepared us for other trials—to help us become stronger. Everyone has trials to endure, and our Heavenly Father knows we can overcome them. So we shouldn’t lose hope.
Carmila R., age 18, Southern Tagalog, Philippines

While Howard was serving as a stake president, he was speaking to the congregated Saints of the Pasadena Stake during a special excursion to the Arizona Temple. It was Howard’s forty-sixth birthday, and he wrote in his journal: “While I was speaking to the congregation, my father and mother came into the chapel dressed in white. I had no idea my father was prepared for his temple blessings, although Mother had been anxious about it for some time. I was so overcome with emotion that I was unable to continue to speak. … This was a birthday I have never forgotten because on that day they were endowed and I had the privilege of witnessing their sealing, following which I was sealed to them.”

Elsewhere two families in a small rural ward began feuding years ago. Although the exact circumstances are difficult for anyone to remember, it had something to do with a remark made by one father to another. The original observation was innocent, but it was misunderstood, and within days several variations of the story had spread. Feelings were hurt, sides were taken, and for years bitter feelings have chased the Spirit from them at activities and gatherings. Local leaders have tried to provide counsel and encouragement. Often those actions have been misunderstood as well. Today members of an entire family, including children and grandchildren, refuse to attend church largely because a simple observation blew up into a fire of faultfinding and criticism.