Gospel Story Finder

Keaton and Pug were best friends. They did everything together. One summer they decided to build a tree fort in the forest behind Pug’s home. Each Saturday they worked on their fort, using old pieces of wood and a hammer and nails Pug’s dad gave them.
One Saturday as Keaton and Pug worked on their fort, Pug’s mom called to them. They jumped down and went to the house.
“What’s up, Mom?” Pug asked.
“You boys are going to have another friend to play with today,” Mom said, pointing toward the back door.
Just then Jason came out of the house. “Are you my new best friends?” he asked, clapping his hands.
“Mommmm!” Pug protested.
Keaton rolled his eyes. “Oh, great!” he said under his breath. Jason was their age, but he was, well, different.
“Mom,” Pug whispered, “Jason won’t want to work on the fort. He won’t want to do anything but run around.”
Pug’s mom sighed. “Jason will be with us until after lunch when his mom gets back from the doctor. So you need to find something you can all do together. Now run along and play.”
Keaton and Pug walked away, glancing back at Jason as he followed them. “Now what are we going to do? Our day is ruined,” Keaton grumbled.
“Hey, I know,” Pug whispered. “Let’s play hide-and-seek and have Jason be it. We can run into the forest and work on our tree fort, and he’ll never find us.”
“Great idea!” Keaton exclaimed.
When they explained the game to Jason and told him that he got to be it, he waved his hands with excitement. “Now close your eyes and count to 20,” Keaton said. Jason put his hands over his eyes and started counting, saying each number loudly and carefully.
Keaton and Pug crept away. When they were out of sight behind the house, they raced to the edge of the forest, hid behind trees, and looked back to see if Jason was following. But they could still hear him counting—“13 … 14 … 15.”
They ran toward their fort, laughing and dodging trees. But soon Keaton slowed and fell behind. When he looked back and saw Jason searching around the house, he came to a complete stop. “This isn’t what the song says.”
Pug came back through the trees. “What song?”
“You know, that song we sing in Primary. ‘If you don’t walk as most people do, some people walk away from you. But I won’t! I won’t!’*“
“Oh, yeah,” Pug said. “I remember that song. ‘Jesus walked away from none. He gave his love to everyone. So I will! I will!’”
Keaton and Pug both stared at the ground, ashamed. Finally, Keaton looked up. “Why don’t we go back and hide someplace where Jason can find us?”
“Good idea,” said Pug. They ran back to the house and hid behind the swing set in the backyard.
Just then Jason ran around the corner of the house and spotted them. “I found you! I found you!” he yelled, clapping his hands.
“You sure did!” Keaton agreed.
“Way to go, pal!” Pug said happily, giving Jason a high five.
Jason looked back and forth between the two of them, beaming. “Are you my new best friends?” he asked.
Keaton grinned. “We sure are.”
“Why don’t we play again, and I’ll be it,” Pug suggested. Jason jumped up and down and cheered.
Keaton smiled at Jason. “Let’s hide together,” he whispered. “I know a perfect hiding place.” As soon as Pug started counting, he took Jason’s hand, and they walked together toward the tree fort.

One day, during this time, I was tilling a field with a tractor on the family farm and had a profound experience with thoughts. While driving I had let my thoughts drift off to meaningless and worldly things and soon found myself in a depressed mood. I didn’t like the feeling and made a conscious effort to fight off the negative thoughts and replace them with good and uplifting ones. It turned out to be a mental battle for me, but eventually, as good replaced bad, my mood improved and I found myself feeling happy. I was so struck by this powerful experience, that later that same day, I came up with this poem titled “Thoughts.”

Joy is a BYU student from China. Not a member of our faith, Joy is attending law school. She is bright and gifted and is here because she was impressed with the moral standards exhibited by BYU groups that toured China. When she arrived here, she spoke only limited English, so the first year of law school was very difficult.

An accreditation team visited the law school to investigate the possibility of a one-year course in international law. They felt that the law school was weak in tutoring international students, so they were invited to interview several students from other countries, Joy among them.

When the team queried her about available tutorial help, she said, “I have so much tutoring help I can’t use it all. I know that I could ask anyone of twenty students for help, depending on what I needed.”

The team members asked her about the structure of the tutoring time. She replied, “Students tutor on their own time. I can go to them whenever I need help.”

Thank you, you twenty law students who offered your help to Joy. And thank you, Joy, for adding new dimensions to the lives of those twenty.

I had come to my office the other night a beautiful mother and seven children. I think I am far enough away, and probably no one would guess of whom I am speaking. She is a very talented young woman, but she said, “I have come to a time where I believe that I must think of divorcing my husband.” So I began to ask about her husband. In answer to my questions, she said he was kind to her. He was a good provider, but somehow the luster of the romance of marriage, now that their children were pretty well grown, had now brought her to a point where she had begun to think that maybe if she were footloose she could do better than she was able to do with the husband who was the father of her children. We had quite a talk about it; but the other morning, after the first session of the conference, this lovely young woman met me and she said, with tears rolling down her cheeks, “I have had the answer to every problem. This session has changed my life. I am a woman different now, because I have understanding that I never had before. I am going back. I am going to take care of my family. I am going to love my husband, and I am going to correct the mistakes that are in me, where I think most of the problem lies.”

There were lonely hearts warmed that evening. Young people from small towns who rarely know more than one or two Latter-day Saints their own age couldn’t even count all the Mormons. One leader reported that as she was walking between the refreshment tables at the dance, she noticed a young lady sitting all alone, sobbing softly to herself. The leader sat down, talked to the girl, and found that she was hard of hearing and had a low estimation of herself. Her friends had left her, not maliciously, but they had been asked to dance and were all out on the dance floor. A little while later this same leader noticed a young man sitting quietly alone. He wasn’t too coordinated and didn’t feel bold enough to ask anyone to dance with him. So she took the boy over to the young lady, introduced them, and chatted with them for a while until they felt comfortable together. The young couple danced and talked and laughed and drank lemonade and danced some more and were as happy that evening as anyone could be. Others felt less alone and gathered strength from the numbers that evening. Tim Turner from Roanoke explained his feelings after the banquet: “Meeting all these other Mormons made me realize that there are many others who have the same goals I have.”

In June 1994, I was anxiously driving back home from work to watch on TV our national soccer team play in the World Cup. Soon after I started my journey, I saw from afar on the sidewalk a man quickly moving forward in a wheelchair, which I noticed was decorated with our Brazilian flag. I knew then he was also going home to watch the game!
When our paths crossed and our eyes met, for a fraction of a second, I felt strongly united with that man! We were going in different directions, didn’t know each other, and had clearly different social and physical conditions, but our same passion for soccer and love for our country made us feel like one in that very moment! I haven’t seen that man since then, but today, decades later, I can still see those eyes and feel that strong connection with that man. After all, we won the game and the World Cup that year!

With Eduardo’s baptism in 1987 came a desire to strengthen his testimony by reading the Book of Mormon. “How do I learn to read?” he asked his wife. María told him to look at the letters, put them together in his mind, try to sound out words, and then attempt to read aloud. With practice, she assured him, he would eventually learn to read.
Eduardo, then 45, knew the sounds of many letters, but he had not attempted to read since leaving school nearly four decades before.
With a prayer in his heart, Eduardo sat down one hot summer day in a shady spot in the backyard of his home. “There,” he says, “I determined to make the attempt.”
María says she never would have imagined what happened next. As she worked in the kitchen, she listened off and on as Eduardo attempted to sound out letters and words. “Suddenly I heard him speaking rapidly,” she says. “I listened and realized that he was reading—fluently. Less than half an hour had passed, and he was reading!”
Eduardo was so immersed in his attempt that he hadn’t realized he was reading. But as he read, he recalls, “I felt a fire burning within me.” Frightened and surprised, Eduardo called to his wife, “Mami, what is happening to me?”
“It’s the Spirit of the Lord,” María replied. “You are reading fluently!”
As she recalls the experience, María says, “It was something we can never deny.”
Eduardo adds, “The day I learned to read is also the day I gained my testimony of the Book of Mormon and its power.”

Question three: How do we teach our children? We teach by example. Our children will learn far more by observing us walk uprightly than any other way. Blair’s parents showed him, by their example, the importance of prayer. He remembers many times as a child walking down the hall to his parents’ bedroom and seeing them kneeling at the side of their bed, holding hands as they prayed to Heavenly Father.

We teach children to walk uprightly a step at a time, over and over again. I know of a mother who has her children repeat this simple yet powerful statement as they leave home: “The gospel is true, I love you, and I am a child of God, no matter what!” The words “Return with honor” written on a sign hung above the doorway of a home are a constant reminder to all who walk through the door how they should return.

Our children respond best when taught with respect and love. In the eighth chapter of Moroni, the prophet Mormon is deeply concerned about a dissension that has arisen among the members of the Church. He has written a letter giving counsel to his son, Moroni, regarding the matter. But before he addresses this problem, Mormon expresses his devotion to his son: “My beloved son, Moroni, I rejoice exceedingly that your Lord Jesus Christ hath … called you to his ministry, and to his holy work.

“I am mindful of you always in my prayers, continually praying unto God the Father in the name of his Holy Child, Jesus, that he, through … grace, will keep you through the endurance of faith on his name to the end” (Moro. 8:2–3). First, Mormon reaffirmed his love for Moroni, and then he taught him. When our children first know they are loved, they are more likely to listen and be taught.

Our children will be more able to survive the challenges that will come to them when they know and understand that keeping God’s commandments can bring them peace and joy in their lives and enable them to walk uprightly. While traveling in the car with her mother and younger sister, five-year-old Clara sensed that her mother was deeply troubled about something. “Mommy, what’s the matter? You seem so sad.”
Not wanting to go into detail about her concerns, but feeling that she needed to acknowledge to her daughter that she was worried, Clara’s mother asked, “Clara, what would you do if you felt sad and frustrated?”
“Well,” responded Clara, and there was a long pause, “you need to take time out and think. Then you need to pray all the time and read the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. You need to bless other people. Just think about the good things people do for you and the good things in your life, not the bad.” Young Clara is beginning to understand how to walk uprightly before the Lord.

Along with his integrity and ability comes a special loyalty and sensitivity. Margaret Bury, President Faust’s secretary of many years, observes, “He treats everyone well, whether they be judge or janitor.”
“I learned from him the meaning of loyalty,” observes his son Marcus. “My father would make two haircut appointments, one soon after the other. The first appointment was with my grandfather’s barber, a buddy from World War I who was so old he was losing his eyesight and the steadiness in his hands. The second appointment was with another barber who would even out the work.” Little wonder that Marcus comments further: “Father has a soft touch and can deal with sensitive situations without leaving hurt feelings. He can ‘walk on wet concrete without leaving any footprints.’”

After Elder Kimball had surgery on his vocal chords, he traveled with fellow Apostle Elder Harold B. Lee.
Elder Lee: I’d like to invite Elder Kimball to bear his testimony.
Elder Kimball: I’m too embarrassed to keep speaking. I rasp and make terrible noises. Maybe in our next meeting I shouldn’t speak.
Elder Lee: Spencer, your testimony needs to be heard. You better get your voice back.
Elder Kimball did all he could to regain his voice. He followed his doctor’s orders, received priesthood blessings, and took voice lessons.
Elder Kimball: Camilla, I realize I cannot quit for anything, though the temptation is terrific when I stumble and stammer and halt.
The true test came when Elder Kimball returned to his home—the Gila Valley in Arizona.
Elder Kimball: Forgive my voice. While in the East, I fell among cutthroats.
Woman: His voice is different, but he still has the same sense of humor!
President Spencer W. Kimball never stopped preaching. In fact, his soft, deep, mellow voice became something people loved about him.

Toward the end of World War II, my family was living in Czechoslovakia, where I was born. My father, a customs officer, was drafted into the army and sent to the western front of the war. As the war raged with more severity and the eastern front moved closer to our town, my mother, alone with her four children and in an effort to protect them, made the decision to leave our home and all our earthly possessions behind and head west, toward the home of her parents in East Germany.
It was the winter of 1944—one of the coldest, harshest winters of World War II. My mother instructed us to take only warm clothes and food but no other possessions. At this time, we were members of the Lutheran Church, not even aware that there was a restored Church of Jesus Christ. Considering this, it is interesting that she took most of our family records and family pictures on our flight west.
We were on one of the last refugee trains, and the journey, which would usually take one or two days, took us almost two weeks. I was only four years old. Traveling in a freezing train, stopping over in refugee camps, and heading out again—exhaustion, hunger, and fear were the continuous ingredients of this perilous flight.
One night the train stopped again at a train station, and, as usual, my mother stepped out in search of some food for us children. Often, kind people came to those stations and brought milk and bread and other food for the refugee children. But this time when my mother returned with some precious food for us, the train was gone, with all of her four children in it.
During this time of the war, many family members were separated from each other, never to be united again. There she was, in a war zone, without her husband, alone on deserted railroad tracks, realizing that she had just lost all of her children! Later she shared with us how lonely and devastated she felt. The physical stress of the effort to flee to the west and the emotional stress culminating in the apparent loss of all her children in a few minutes of time were overwhelming. She started to pray—the only source of solace available to her at that desperate time. I know today that the Light of Christ moved her to pray with faith, as a good Lutheran, and then to get up and look around to see if she could find the train somewhere else at the station. After a short period of terror and despair, she got on her feet and moved from one track to another and eventually found our train on a parallel track quite a distance away, where it had been moved during her absence.
With the protection of God and under the inspired leadership of our mother, we reached her hometown and were reunited with her parents in Zwickau, East Germany.

Puebla, Mexico: He hadn’t attended church for years. Then an old friend, his new home teacher, invited him to stake conference.
Baptized in 1964, Velino Camela hadn’t been to Church for years, even though his wife and six children were active. Then Abel Toriz, his friend of more than twenty years, was assigned as his home teacher.
During the first visit, Brother Toriz and his son Enoc saw an open beer can on the table, but they didn’t say anything about it. And they visited every week, rather than once a month.
“We hope to see you at church because we miss you,” Brother Toriz would say.
“Well, my family will go, but I won’t,” would be the reply.
“But, hermano, you are the head of the home.”
“Yes, but I’m not going to church.”
Brother Toriz and his son kept visiting every week. Then, one evening, they invited Brother Camela again, and he said, “Yes, tomorrow I’m going to church.” And he did.
“He has kept coming!” says Brother Toriz. “And listen to this,” he adds with a chuckle, “he and his family always arrive before the meeting starts. That makes me very happy!”
“Well, I want to be there to take the emblems of the sacrament. That’s the main purpose,” Brother Camela replies.
After so much time and so many invitations, why did he finally decide to go back to church? “I was unhappy with my life,” he replies. “Then my friend Brother Toriz kept coming every week and inviting me, and I went! All I needed was somebody to push me!
“My hope now is to be sealed to my wife and children. As Brother Toriz says, I should take the opportunity now while they’re still at home. My oldest son and daughter are planning to go on missions.”
He looks over at his home teacher. “Brother Toriz has always been my brother.” (See: “A Little Encouragement.”)

Religious observance in the home blesses our families. Example is particularly important. What we are speaks so loudly that our children may not hear what we say. When I was nearly five years old, my mother received word that her younger brother had been killed when the battleship on which he was serving was bombed off the coast of Japan near the end of World War II. This news was devastating to her. She was very emotional and went into the bedroom. After a while I peeked into the room to see if she was OK. She was kneeling by the bed in prayer. A great peace came over me because she had taught me to pray and love the Savior. This was typical of the example she always set for me. Mothers and fathers praying with children may be more important than any other example.

Many years ago I learned something very important from President Henry B. Eyring. He determined as a young father to ponder every night how the Lord’s hand was blessing his life. Here are his words:
I wrote down a few lines every day for years. . . . Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch [my wife and me] or our children . . . today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.

When I was young, we moved to the city of Cartagena. Many boys there were smoking marijuana. I feel that I was blessed because I was never invited to do it. When I was ten or eleven, I became a Boy Scout. I was the only one in my public school, so I was chosen to be the leader for many things, and I wore my uniform in parades. I remember collecting things for the poor people in the city. I remember the joy of giving.

The way for you to be happy is to love others and to be obedient. You can set a good example at school and in your family. You can also set an example as a good citizen of your country. If we want to have strong nations, they must start with you children.

Right now, I am missing my father as well. Due to an accident that has left him in the hospital and due to COVID restrictions, I am unable to visit him in person. But I want to share some of his quirks that I love dearly. My father is not a fan of camping, but he came to a majority of my scout camps as I grew up, including my first backpacking trip, where he volunteered us to carry a fellow scout’s tent when that boy was struggling. I took the poles, and my father took the rest of the tent. I remember vividly a long drive we took together where we read Terry Tempest Williams’s beautiful book Refuge out loud. We both started crying at the same point. And it used to drive me nuts that when the forecast predicted six inches of snow, my dad would be out when just two had fallen and then return to the driveway two more times to remove the next batches of snow. But now that I have my own driveway to shovel, I often start shoveling before the snow has ended in a restless desire to keep the driveway free of icy tire tracks. And while I shovel, I think of how wonderful my father is. He and I are bound together by myriad small instances and preferences like these, too many to count where he and I have laid bare our wonderfully peculiar particularities. If I have some conception of a loving Heavenly Father, it is because of this individual bond I have forged with my earthly father.

In 1840, when Charles was twenty-one years old, he heard two Mormon missionaries preaching the gospel. He knew that what they were teaching was true, and he asked to be baptized. Charles was the only member of his family to join the Church. Not long after his baptism, Charles also became a missionary and was the companion of the missionary who baptized him! Charles served his mission in England and North Wales until 1843.

Lucy and her older sisters entered an art contest at their school about making the world a better place. Lucy wanted to paint a heart. She said, “The world be a better place if we have love in our hearts.”
When Lucy found out that her painting won the contest, she told her sister Ruby, “Yours is so good. I wish you would have won instead of me.” Then Lucy couldn’t believe it when she found out her painting won the contest for the whole United States too!

We returned to Brigham City for the funeral of my wife’s father, William W. Smith. A young man I knew as a seminary student stood at the casket, deeply moved. I did not know that he knew my father-in-law.
He said: “One summer I worked for him on the farm. Brother Smith talked to me about going on a mission. My family could not possibly support a missionary. Brother Smith told me to pray about it and said, ‘If you decide to go on a mission, I will pay for your mission,’ and he did.”
Neither my wife nor her mother knew that. It was one of those things that grandfathers do.

Cayo Sopi and Anthony Linat have been friends since childhood. Cayo, a member of the Church, always hoped Anthony would join.
Leslie Nilsson, photographer
Cayo:
I met Anthony a long time ago. We had just moved into the area. I went to this new school and started to make friends. Anthony was one of them. We were maybe six or seven years old. It’s funny to think about that, now that I am 26.
We were playing a game called Pog. It’s a game we play in France—I don’t know if it’s played elsewhere. While we were playing, Anthony tried to swipe one or two of my game pieces. Suddenly, we started to fight. Our teacher had to pull us apart. After that, I think we appreciated each other more. We started doing things together—playing video games, skateboarding, and cycling. Little by little, we began to spend more and more time together.
My mother always wanted our family to pray. It was part of our practice at home. Same thing with reading scriptures too. These things were ingrained in us. One night I slept over at Anthony’s place. As I prayed before bed, Anthony saw me and asked what I was doing. I don’t remember what I said exactly; I just remember we were in his room and we talked about prayer.
Anthony came a few times to my house, and he saw us read the scriptures, ask a blessing before eating, and pray as a family. He saw us sing hymns together too. I asked him once or twice to come to church. I must have seen from his reaction that he wasn’t too excited about the idea of coming to church. I told myself, “Well that’s it, I guess, and it’s too bad, but we’ll just continue to be buddies.”
Anthony:
At first I was a little distant about the Church. I didn’t understand much, and I was a bit afraid to speak with Cayo about how his family gathered together for prayer. So in the beginning I didn’t respond to invitations. But little by little, I felt good. I felt in my heart that Cayo’s family was different from other families.
Cayo:
Eventually we both moved on to other things. We lost track of each other several times over the years, but we would always bump into each other again. When we were teenagers, we became close friends again.
Anthony:
I could see that Cayo was different from my other friends. We all do dumb things as we’re growing up, but Cayo helped me choose a good path.
Cayo:
Anthony started to come to church with my family. Then things evolved naturally, the missionaries spent a lot of time with us, and Anthony became quite familiar with the Church. He knew what prayer was, he knew the hymns, he knew all that—he was just not a member.
Anthony:
From age 8 to age 18, I reflected a lot about getting baptized. But it took me a long time because I had a lot of things I needed to change in my life, even though I tried to live good principles.
At the age of 18, I met the missionaries in Cayo’s home. The missionaries taught me the lessons to prepare me for baptism. They helped me, and their message touched my heart. During this time, my mother and my little sister were introduced to the missionaries. They were baptized a few months before I was. I was baptized on March 10, 2007.
Cayo:
It took the time that it took, more than 10 years, but finally he was baptized.
It’s interesting to see how the Lord does things. After that, I went on a mission in France and we wrote to each other. Now we’re going to be separated because Anthony just became a gendarme [policeman], and he will leave to work for two to five years in Guyana, but I’m sure we’re going to stay in touch.
Anthony:
Since I joined the Church, I do what is required to stay on the strait path and to share the gospel with those around me. It’s something that’s very simple, but the gospel can be difficult for others to accept and to live. As members of the Church, we are truly different from others.
Other members of my family had trouble seeing why my mother, my sister, and I get ready for church every Sunday. I get dressed in my suit and leave at 8:30 to be to church by 9:00, and I often stay until 3:00 in the afternoon because of my calling. I enjoy visiting with other members and finding out what’s going on in their lives. I like being able to participate with the members; it’s exceptional. It’s important to have people around us who are members, to have unity, and to feel like we’re strengthening each other.
Cayo:
I believe the Lord does everything He can so we can truly, honestly, and deeply change. Becoming a Latter-day Saint and a disciple of Christ is not just a question of deciding to adopt certain attitudes; it is to witness a profound change in ourselves. I saw that change in Anthony.
Anthony:
Knowing I have a Heavenly Father comforts me. It also comforts me to know that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to die for us—for me.
But, in any case, I know it’s true. I also know the scriptures are true. The Book of Mormon is true. I’m convinced of it. The Church is true. We have a true prophet, Thomas S. Monson. The Twelve Apostles are truly called of God.
That’s something I didn’t understand before, and I think that, even today, I don’t understand it completely. It’s very powerful and it’s unique as an emotion.
Cayo Sopi (left) and Anthony Linat (right) walk through their neighborhood in the suburbs of Paris, France. They have been friends since childhood.
“As we got to be closer friends, I could see that Cayo was different from my other friends,” Anthony remembers. Over time, Cayo’s example helped Anthony to become more interested in the restored gospel.
Cayo and Anthony plan on staying in touch after Anthony moves to Guyana.
“Since I joined the Church,” Anthony says, “I do what is required to stay on the strait path and to share the gospel with those around me.” Sharing the gospel is “something that’s very simple,” he says.
Cayo remains grateful for the opportunity he had to share the gospel with his friend. “I believe the Lord does everything He can so we can truly, honestly, and deeply change,” Cayo says. “I saw that change in Anthony.”
Anthony says finding the gospel has been a blessing in his life. “Knowing I have a Heavenly Father comforts me,” he says. “It also comforts me to know that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ.”
“It’s interesting to see how the Lord does things,” Cayo says. It took more than 10 years for Anthony to be baptized, but in that time, Anthony gained a strong testimony.