Gospel Story Finder

One incident in particular made a great impression on me. In 2000 I had the opportunity to attend the groundbreaking ceremony of the first Latter-day Saint meetinghouse that would be built from the ground up in India. The location for this chapel was in Rajahmundry, a city near the eastern coast of the country. It is a relatively small city for India, even though about three million people live there.
I traveled to Rajahmundry with my wife; the mission president, Ebenezer Solomon; and his wife. As we arrived at the crowded train station in Rajahmundry, my heart went out to the many people I saw living in extreme poverty. There were many people sleeping on the hard floor wherever there was an empty space. When we arrived at the location of the groundbreaking, I noticed a great contrast between the misery I had just witnessed and the joy I saw in the faces of the members gathered to greet us. They were beaming and waving as we approached. They were so happy and excited. While they too lived in poor conditions by some standards, there was no sign of despair or emptiness.
I immediately began to understand why this location had been chosen for a chapel. I admit I had been somewhat unsure why the Church’s resources were being focused in this out-of-the-way location. But after I met briefly with the Saints in Rajahmundry, all of my questions were answered. These Latter-day Saints were so faithful and so excited to have their own meetinghouse.
After the groundbreaking ceremony, President Solomon introduced me to four widows who had been baptized several years before. They were all in their 70s. President Solomon informed me that these women had all been full-tithe payers since their baptisms. I was impressed that in an area with so much need, these faithful sisters had never missed an opportunity to pay their tithing, though I’m sure it had been a sacrifice for them.
I asked President Solomon about how much each sister would pay in tithing every month. He gave me a figure in rupees, the currency used in India. I did not understand the amount, so I asked him how much they would pay in U.S. dollars. I will never forget his answer: “They would pay between one-and-a-half and two pennies.” I was reminded again that paying tithing isn’t a matter of money, but it requires faith! It was humbling to realize that the blessing of a chapel had come to these Saints because of their willingness to sacrifice by paying tithing—even though it was only pennies. I’m sure the Lord must turn those pennies into millions of dollars.
Tithing is not a monetary commandment—it is a principle of faith. The Lord asks 10 percent of our income and waits to see if we will exercise faith in Him to make that sacrifice. The Saints in Rajahmundry had that faith.
I was impressed when we arrived at the building site to find a red carpet rolled out from the road to the canopy where the Saints were gathered. It was about 30 meters long. Under the canopy were red velvet chairs. They were large and impressive. The carpet and the chairs were worn, but it was the very best these Saints had to offer. They would not give less than their best. It was a humbling experience for me. These Saints in Rajahmundry set the example of faithfully giving to the Lord, whether it was in paying their tithing or providing their best accommodations for the visiting Church leaders.

As an example, Brother Bishop describes the members the Division found to translate materials into two of the languages of Zaire—Lingala and Tshiluba. Church materials are translated into Lingala by Alfonse and Maguy Muanda, in addition to their being actively involved as stake missionaries and operating their own business.
Tshiluba is the native language of Ambrose and Louise Massala, but in their college days they lived in an area of Zaire where Swahili is spoken, and that became their daily language. Shortly after they were married, Ambrose suggested that they go back to speaking to one another in Tshiluba. Louise thought the suggestion strange because by then they had been speaking Swahili for a number of years. However, they began using Tshiluba again, and their children grew up speaking Tshiluba at home. Surprised when they were asked if they would translate material into Tshiluba, Louise said she finally realized why Ambrose was inspired to return to using a language they had almost forgotten.

Jesus said, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” (Rev. 3:20.) Although this expression is figurative, I know that Jesus will keep the spiritual meaning of the promise. He will communicate with us, and we can come to know him as if he had dined with us. A personal experience may tell you how this can happen.

About a year ago, I was driving home from an extended backpacking trip with my 11-year-old son. As we traveled along in silent thought, he startled me with a question I was not quite prepared for: “Dad, how do you think it would be if I went on a mission for the Church to Canada?” His older brother and I had both been on LDS missions to Canada, and so this was not what startled me. Instead, I was wondering how God could know my little son well enough among all the millions of children on earth to fashion a special mission just for him. As I pondered this notion while driving along the road, something warm and wonderful, wonderful beyond description, passed through me. I know it was the Spirit of God. The still, small voice had whispered to me: “I know you and your son better than you know yourselves. I love you with a great love.”

This is only one of the many ways that I have come, through the Spirit, to know of the reality of God. He is near us and wants us to know him. The trouble is that we are too far from him. But if we will draw near to him in faith and repentance, he will draw near to us. His Spirit will teach us of him. I do not think there is another way—not through science or any other way except as he has appointed.

Joseph was always willing to help children in need. Once, in Nauvoo, Illinois, Margarette McIntire and her brother Wallace were walking home after a rainstorm. The ground was very muddy, and the two children became stuck in the mud. Unable to get out, they began to cry. Soon, they looked up and saw the Prophet Joseph. He got them to higher ground, wiped the mud off their feet, and took out his handkerchief to wipe away their tears. He spoke kind words to them and sent them home with smiles on their faces.

One of the choicest experiences this man related to me was about a horse. Because he was a commanding officer in the Canadian Cavalry, a horse was very important to him:
“I looked around for the best horse in the area to buy. I loved horses—I always had. I finally found just the right one. I paid seventy-five dollars for this horse, which was a lot of money in those days. I quickly picked an excellent horseman who was an expert in horse training. He worked and worked with Steamboat, as I called him, and before long, he was not only the best-looking horse in the Canadian Cavalry, but also the best trained. I could tell him to lie down, to roll over, or to come to me, and this horse immediately obeyed. I was so very pleased.
“We were in Cardston at the time and I had enjoyed riding Steamboat for a couple of years when one day a Colonel Walker from Winnipeg visited our headquarters there. His main mission was to buy a fine horse for the general. He didn’t tell me this at first, but just said:
“‘I hear you have a fine horse.’
“‘He’s a dandy!’ I answered.
“Then he asked to take a ride on Steamboat and I said, ‘All right.’
“When he returned from a short ride, he dismounted and asked, ‘How much would you take for this horse?’
“I was sure he was joking with me, so I quickly replied, in jest, ‘Oh, five hundred dollars.’ This was an outrageous sum.
“‘Sold,’ he said.
“I was stunned! ‘But I was just joking, this horse is my pride and joy,’ I stammered.
“Colonel Walker stood straight and tall and said, ‘You told me the price, I will pay it, so we have just made a deal.’
“I was brokenhearted for a long time at the loss of my joy, Steamboat, my friend.
“About a year later,” he concluded, “while I was in England visiting our headquarters there, I was invited to inspect their horse stables. As I was walking down a row of stalls, I saw my great friend in one of them. ‘Steamer,’ I shouted.
“The horse jumped like he’d been shot. I climbed into the stall, threw my arms around that horse and cried and cried. An old friend is hard to forget.”

Fear of such criticism kept Letitia Rule, a member in England, away from the gospel for 20 years. She often wanted to return, but she “was afraid of just walking through the door, feeling judged and like I hadn’t been living right.” Only a life-threatening diagnosis gave her the courage to make that difficult step. Members met her with warmth and love, helping her want to participate in the gospel again.

It took me a long time, many years of preparation, to make it into orbit. I learned that important things don’t come easily or quickly. I learned that persistence pays off. I also learned that you have to be prepared when the opportunity comes. I started preparing for the space program long before there was a space program. I could pass the six-day astronaut physical examination because I had lived the Word of Wisdom all my life. When they started accepting applications for the astronaut program, I had already completed my education. I already knew how to fly jet airplanes. When they ran an FBI check on me, there was nothing in the record that would disqualify me. Now, you young men of the Aaronic Priesthood, this evening you have already started to prepare for what you will someday become. I encourage you to prepare well.

I looked up as my Primary teacher asked me to read a scripture.
I read, “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed … nothing shall be impossible unto you” (Matthew 17:20).
Our teacher held out her hand and showed us a tiny mustard seed. I started feeling excited. I definitely had that much faith. So nothing would be impossible? What a great way to live!
The next day I went to school with big plans. Things were going to be different from here on out. No more working hard for good grades. Not with faith on my side!
My math teacher walked to the blackboard. “Take out your notebooks. We have a lot to review for the test tomorrow.”
I wanted to laugh out loud. Why should I bother paying attention? I had faith! I relaxed at my desk and ignored the lesson. Who knew school could be this easy?
That night after dinner I helped Dad carry dishes to the sink. “Have any homework tonight?” he asked.
“Nope.” I almost told him more, but I decided to keep it a surprise for now. He’d be so proud of me once he learned how much faith I had.
“Wow, lucky you.”
I smiled. Oh yeah. I was feeling plenty lucky, all right.
The next morning Tia ran over as I got off the school bus.
“Hi!” she said. “Sorry I couldn’t come over last night. It took me forever to study for the test.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. I didn’t study at all.”
“What?” Nathan said. He’d just joined us. “You didn’t?”
“Nope. I don’t have to study to get an A. I have faith! Just wait and see.”
My friends were impressed.
When I got my test score later that afternoon, though, all my bragging stopped. I got an F! I couldn’t believe it. An F, as in fail. What about all my faith? What had gone wrong? I knew my faith was bigger than that shrimpy seed. I hid my grade from my friends.
Later that night I sat at the kitchen table, still confused. Dad sat down next to me. “Something wrong?”
I took a deep breath and told Dad the whole story. When I finished, he nodded slowly and said something I’d never forget: “Faith without works is dead.”
Then Dad taught me how faith really works. I learned that it’s not enough just to believe in something. I have to act too. That means I still have to do my part.
I went to bed that night with my pathetic math test on the floor next to me. I looked down at the big, fat, red F on top of the page. Dad was right. Expecting to do well without doing any work is like trying to grow a mustard plant without even planting the seed in the ground.
After that day, whenever there was a test, I still had faith. But this time I had faith that Heavenly Father could help me work hard and study and do my very best.
With this kind of faith, nothing really is impossible!

We can teach the importance of prayer to our children and grandchildren both by word and by example. I share with you a lesson in teaching by example as described in a mother’s letter to me relating to prayer. “Dear President Monson: Sometimes I wonder if I make a difference in my children’s lives. Especially as a single mother working two jobs to make ends meet, I sometimes come home to confusion, but I never give up hope.”

Her letter continues as she describes how she and her children were watching general conference, where I was speaking about prayer. Her son made the comment, “Mother, you’ve already taught us that.” She asked, “What do you mean?” Her son replied, “Well, you’ve taught us to pray and showed us how, but the other night I came to your room to ask something and found you on your knees praying to Heavenly Father. If He’s important to you, He’ll be important to me.” The letter concluded, “I guess you never know what kind of influence you’ll be until a child observes you doing yourself what you have tried to teach him to do.”

My dad is older than all my friends’ dads. He is too old to do anything.
At the pool last summer, Jimmy’s dad did a triple somersault off the high dive. Everyone cheered. I asked my dad if he would do one, too.
He laughed. “Steven, I wouldn’t survive a fall like that. Let’s get in the pool, and I’ll teach you the backstroke.”
So I learned the backstroke, but no one was cheering.
In the fall, I went out for soccer. Megan’s dad was the coach. He ran up and down the field with us for hours, shouting out the plays and showing us how to kick. My dad watched from the bleachers.
“Dad, can’t you be assistant coach or something?” I asked.
“I don’t have the energy to keep going for that length of time, Steven. But I’ve thought of a few new plays I’d like to tell your coach.”
Megan’s dad used the plays, and we won most of our games. At the end-of-the-season banquet, Megan’s dad got a trophy. My dad just watched and applauded.
During the winter, our class went on a ski trip. All the fathers came, and they all skied down the toughest slopes. All except my dad. He would only go on the smallest slope.
“I don’t need any broken bones at my age,” my dad said when I begged him to try a bigger hill. And instead of always skiing, my dad helped some of the beginners learn to stay up on their skis.
Then at the end of the school year, our class had a parents’ day program. Most of the parents took off work to come and talk about their jobs. Since my dad was retired, I figured he wouldn’t have anything to talk about.
I sat next to John. I didn’t see his father on the stage. “Where’s your dad?” I asked.
“He couldn’t come. He’s away on a business trip. He’s gone a lot.” John wasn’t too happy about that.
“My dad’s always around.”
“You’re lucky.”
One by one the parents got up and talked about their jobs. Some of them had really exciting jobs. One was a pilot, and one was a paramedic. One father even taught skydiving. After the skydiver, it was my dad’s turn. What is he going to talk about? I wondered.
“My job is my son Steven,” he began. “I like to help him learn things and to participate in his activities. I hope I’m always there when he needs me. He doesn’t think I do anything exciting, but to me, being with him every day is the most exciting thing I could do.”
I was so surprised, I couldn’t move. Even when everyone else in the room stood up and applauded him, I still couldn’t move.
After the program, I ran to find my dad. I told him that I understood and that I was glad he wasn’t too old to be my dad.

As long as I can remember, I have had a soccer ball at my side and a dream to be a professional player. My parents supported me as I pursued this dream. They also encouraged me to go to church. But as I got older I was at church only when I didn’t have a game. I knew that the gospel, Church activities, and my friends would help me a lot in life, but what I was really looking for was to fulfill my dream of playing soccer.
As I trained I began to have important friends inside the great soccer clubs. I had opportunities to play and even train with some of these clubs. I traveled throughout various countries to participate in tournaments, and I was very excited and happy with the possibility of living the life of a professional soccer player. On one of these trips to Asia, my dream was about to come true. A large club liked what they saw when they watched me play and wanted me to join the team. But my agent found some obstacles during the negotiation, and we ultimately didn’t close the contract.
At home my friends were filling out mission papers; others were returning from missions and telling with enthusiasm what it was like to be a missionary. Their eyes shone with emotion each time they spoke, and the Spirit was very strong. I felt the desire to serve a mission too; I wanted to have these same experiences. But I worried that if I chose to serve a mission, my soccer dream wouldn’t come true because I would lose physical fitness and agility. My desire to become a professional player was enormous; I had put off college and worked and lived only to fulfill this dream.
On my soccer trips I always brought a copy of the Book of Mormon. I loved the words of the prophets, their way of life, their determination to obey the commandments, and their good example for their people. I felt ashamed of not being an example for the other players and not putting the things of God first. Sometimes I tried to share my beliefs, but what I always heard was “Let’s enjoy the trip. Forget about this nonsense. Let’s go have fun!” I started to get irritated with the gossip, dishonesty, and other aspects of soccer life. Many times I felt alone and sad, and I knew there was a place where I always felt happy and had friends who cared about me—friends who were together at activities and dances, in seminary and institute classes—celestial friends. I missed these things very much.
One Sunday when I wasn’t traveling, I went to church in my home ward in Brazil. At the end of the meetings, the bishop called me into his office to talk. I knew that we were going to talk about a mission because everyone my age was returning home. The bishop challenged me to serve a mission, and I tried to change the subject, saying that I wasn’t prepared. I tried to put off the bishop in every possible way, but he persevered and convinced me of the value of a mission. We ended the conversation with a goal for my preparation.
Some months later I turned in my papers, and I also continued with my training. For the moment, I had managed to reconcile soccer and the Church in my mind. But little did I know that it couldn’t last for long. I would have to choose.
When my call arrived, my family gathered at home. We were all very excited. Then the telephone rang.
On the other end of the line, my soccer agent told me that he had obtained a good contract with a European club. My imagination soared! I could see the stadium full of people coming to watch the games. I thought of the beautiful house and car and salary I could have. My dream was about to be fulfilled. It was within my grasp—and then I looked at the envelope with the call sitting beside the phone.
My eyes began to fill with tears. For a moment my life passed as if it were a movie. On the phone, my agent asked me what I thought of the news. I was silent. I couldn’t talk, and my legs were shaking. I didn’t want this moment to be real, but it was! I had to make a decision, the most difficult of any decision in my life.
With my voice shaking, I finally told him that I had already obtained a better contract. I would be a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for two years. I thanked the agent for the opportunity and for his work and effort on my behalf. Then I hung up the phone and went to my room, where I cried for a long time. I knew that the opportunity wouldn’t wait for two years, and my soccer dream would not be realized.
I knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father, asking for comfort. I felt a quiet and sweet voice respond, comforting my heart by saying, “My son, you are already part of the best team in the world.” I reflected on these words and still reflect on them today.
Today, home from serving in the Brazil Fortaleza Mission, I don’t regret my choice in any way. The true Church of Jesus Christ is available to anyone who wants to be happy. And on my mission I learned that the best way to be happy is doing what Heavenly Father wants us to do. My mission was the best choice I have ever made in my life. It taught me that all who seek first the kingdom of God will have a place on the Lord’s team (see Matthew 6:33).

On your mark, get set, go!
And the winner is …
… Nathan!
You get to go to the Provincial Track Meet! You’ll race against the fastest kids in British Columbia.
No way! I can’t wait.
Later that week …
Your coach just sent over the schedule for the meet.
Oh no … the meet is on Sunday!
Should I go? What if this is my only chance? I might not make it again next year.
Sorry, Coach. I don’t do races on Sunday. I want to keep the Sabbath day holy.
I’m glad I put Christ first. I know I made the right choice.

Heavenly Father certainly sends us things when we need them most! I’ve just said good-bye to my boyfriend prior to his departure on a mission, and I was missing him very much and writing him very miserable letters. Then the December New Era arrived with “The Way to a Missionary’s Mailbox,” which uplifted me so much, and I’m sure that his mission will now be much more successful because of it. My nonmember family also realizes this.
Susan AyerChristchurch, New Zealand

Clay, Ron, and Dean proved themselves to be young men of action and compassion as they rescued a young woman from her burning car.
Returning home from a movie, the trio discovered the burning, wrecked car on the freeway exit. The driver was seriously injured, unable to move, and calling for help. Bystanders were doing nothing.
Ignoring personal risk, Clay approached the car and was forced back. “I backed off once,” he said. “I was afraid it was going to blow up. She was kind of groggy and she said, ‘Help me, please, someone help me.’
“The second time, I just said to myself, ‘It’s for her good. If it blows up on me, that’s it.’” With that thought, Clay helped the badly injured woman out of her car. With a compound ankle fracture, she relied on Clay to carry her to the curb.
Meanwhile, Ron used the fire extinguisher from his car to attack the flames. When that and another extinguisher provided by a bystander failed to completely douse the fire, Ron and Dean ran to a pay phone and called for paramedics. Arriving police and firemen completed extinguishing the fire.

Our benefits from worship in the temple have extended beyond blessing our children. On one occasion, my husband faced a very perplexing employment problem that he decided to take to the temple. On that day, the Lord blessed him with the impression that a particular scripture was the answer to his question.

Upon arriving home, he anxiously opened the scriptures and, to his delight, found help for his problem. This experience opened up a whole new application of the scriptures. The Lord can speak to His children by reminding us of scriptures that contain answers to our challenges. We appreciate this principle we learned in the temple.

Sisters, do you realize the breadth and scope of your influence when you speak those things that come to your heart and mind as directed by the Spirit? A superb stake president told me of a stake council meeting in which they were wrestling with a difficult challenge. At one point, he realized that the stake Primary president had not spoken, so he asked if she had any impressions. “Well, actually I have,” she said and then proceeded to share a thought that changed the entire direction of the meeting. The stake president continued, “As she spoke, the Spirit testified to me that she had given voice to the revelation we had been seeking as a council.”

The year we were baptized a friend bought a building lot for his family and ours by loaning us part of the money. We began to dream of having our own house. Eventually the Spirit prompted us, and we started calculating the cost of labor and materials. We felt that we would somehow manage to build a house where we could raise our children in the gospel, do missionary work, and receive visits from members.
After some time I got better acquainted with Brother Joel, a recently baptized member of our ward. His faith was amazing. Once when we were doing a service project, Brother Joel said to me, “José Luis, we can build your house.” I was on the verge of tears, but I contained myself until I told my wife. It was the answer to our prayers.
A few days later the friend who had purchased the land for his family and ours told me I could have the entire plot and pay for it later. Still I did not have the kind of job that would allow me to buy building materials, but I knew the Lord would provide a way. Several weeks later I was invited to work for a large company. Thus, our goal to begin building a house soon became a reality.
What a labor of love was Brother Joel’s. He did more than build a house for my family. He was ready to help us in any way. We worked only on Saturdays. It took 10 months, and it did not interfere with our Church work. Other Church members also helped us. My father came to help several times, which allowed him to get to know members of the Church better. He especially got to know Brother Joel, who had become our home teacher.
One Saturday my father praised Brother Joel for the way he worked.
I said, “Dad, do you know how much I have paid for his services?”
He said, “No.”
“I haven’t paid him a cent,” I said. “He has done this service because he loves my family. He is a good man.”
I realized my father was choked up, and he didn’t say anything. I felt he was probably remembering how he had treated the bishop and the missionaries and was embarrassed. He saw that the members of the Church had always treated us well.
On the day we finished the house, 16 men, most of them members of the Church, were there. My relatives and friends who were not members certainly learned a lot that day.

When I was about to turn eight, my parents asked if I wanted my brother Enzo to baptize me. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to. But then I decided to ask him to baptize me.
My brother practiced with me before my baptism. He told me what he would say and when I should plug my nose to get ready to go under the water. My dad helped Enzo memorize the baptism prayer.
My entire family got to play a part in my baptism. My sisters Chloé and Margo were witnesses. Margo and my mom gave the talks. Chloé performed a musical number on the violin. Enzo baptized me, and my dad confirmed me a member of the Church and gave me the gift of the Holy Ghost.
As I was getting ready to go in the water, I felt excited. I was tingling all over. When I went in, I felt so warm that I didn’t want to get out.
The next day I was able to take the sacrament as a new member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My brother was also blessing the sacrament for the first time!
I felt very different after my baptism. I had felt the influence of the Holy Ghost before I was baptized, but I feel it better now. I am trying to follow Jesus Christ. I feel that the Holy Ghost helps me make better choices and comforts me. I feel more secure, and I know Heavenly Father is watching over me.

Zoe got out of bed and put on her fuzzy slippers. It was Saturday! That meant extra time for games on Mom’s phone!
Zoe went into the family room and snuggled into a chair with the phone. She loved playing games.
When she was tired of one game, she opened another. And then another.
After a while Mom came in. “Zoe, I think it’s time to put it down,” she said.
“Not yet!” Zoe said.
“You’ve played enough today,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go outside or color a picture?”
Zoe didn’t want to play outside or color. She frowned as she handed Mom the phone.
The next Saturday when Mom came in and asked for the phone, Zoe looked sad again. The same thing happened the next week.
Finally Mom said, “I don’t think playing on the phone so much is making you happy. Next Saturday you can play for a little while, and then you need to do something else.”
Zoe tried not to think about next Saturday.
But Saturday came. Mom set a timer, and when it went off, Zoe knew her phone time was up. She trudged into the backyard.
The sun warmed Zoe’s face. It made her feel a little better. She looked down and saw daisies in the flowerbeds. Zoe smiled a little. When did those get there? She picked a few and tied the stems together to make a necklace. Soon Mom was calling her for lunch.
The next Saturday, Zoe felt a little sad when Mom took the phone. But she went to her room and colored a picture. Mom said it was beautiful.
A few weeks later when Mom came into the family room on Saturday morning, Zoe had just put down the phone.
“Are you already done?” Mom asked.
Zoe nodded. “Can I go play in the sprinklers?”
Mom smiled. “That’s a great idea. Let’s find you a towel.”
Zoe laughed as she skipped through the sprinklers. Then she pretended she was a mermaid. She liked playing games on the phone, but there were a lot of other fun things to do on a Saturday morning.

Two years ago we decided to have a reunion and honor Bruford Reynolds and other youth leaders who led us in Richards Ward between 1940 and 1950. The chapel was completely filled with men, former boys who had lived in the ward. We had raised money to buy some very nice gifts, which were presented to them, and using an opaque projector, we showed pictures of the boys and some of the activities during those years. We made a real fuss over Bruford Reynolds and the other great men.
Then we called for a response. Bruford Reynolds stood up, and with great tears dimming his eyes he said, “I think this is the greatest day of my life.” As I thought about that statement, I looked out across that group of deacons/Scouts grown tall. It included three men who had been stake presidents, two men who had been mission presidents, several men in stake presidencies, thirty-three men who had been bishops or counselors, and one who is a General Authority. Then I thought, maybe this is what life is all about, to be able to look back and see the young men you had influenced grow up and become leaders in the kingdom.