Gospel Story Finder

We made a paper kindness garden and put a flower or bug sticker on it every time we served or were kind to others. At Christmas, we sent it as a gift to our grandparents who live very far away. Adding stickers reminded us how much we love them!
Deltree and Calan A., ages 10 and 8, Victoria, Australia

About a year ago I was on assignment in Beirut, Lebanon. While there, I learned about a 12-year-old girl, Sarah. Her parents and two older siblings had converted to the Church in Romania but were then required to return to their homeland when Sarah was just 7 years of age. In their homeland there was no Church presence, no organized units, no Sunday School or Young Women program. After five years this family learned of a branch in Beirut and, just before I arrived, sent their 12-year-old daughter, Sarah, accompanied by older siblings, to be baptized. While there, I gave a devotional on the plan of salvation. With some frequency Sarah raised her hand and answered the questions.
After the meeting, and knowing of her almost nonexistent Church exposure, I approached her and asked, “Sarah, how did you know the answers to those questions?” She immediately replied, “My mother taught me.” They did not have the Church in their community, but they did have the gospel in their home. Her mother was her prime gospel teacher.

Kris Whitehead, a priest in the Lethbridge Fourth Ward, Lethbridge Alberta Stake, learned to use the family computer at age six and never stopped. He loves entering names in the Church Personal Ancestry File, and last year entered more than 4,500 names.
When his family drove to Utah last year, Kris opted for doing research in the Family History Library over going skiing. But he does have other interests. He’s an honors student, plays the piano, loves floor hockey, and recently received his Queen’s Venturer’s Award.

Several years later, Emma protected the manuscript of the Prophet’s translation of the Bible, carrying it under her skirt while crossing the frozen Mississippi River.

Education about the LDS Church is especially needed in Norway, where, for many years, only the official state church was legally recognized. In 1845, a so-called dissenter law allowed some other Christian churches to be recognized as “dissenting” faiths. But, because of some key doctrines, the Church was judged not to qualify for recognition until the 1960s. Then it was not until 1988 that the Church was officially registered. “The Church is now recognized as existing,” says Sister Heistø, “but many people still do not consider Latter-day Saints to be Christians.”
So when one of her teachers at the seminary, philosophy professor Guttorm Fløistad, asked his students to suggest topics for study, Rigmor saw another opportunity to educate people about the Church. She suggested that the class study the philosophical basis of Mormonism. The professor agreed, and Latter-day Saint scholar Truman Madsen, then director of the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center, was invited to visit and give lectures at Oslo University. After Dr. Madsen’s visit to Norway in 1986, a regular exchange program with Norwegian and BYU professors was established. Guttorm Fløistad was the first Norwegian professor to visit Utah on the exchange program. And Inge Lønning (now rector of Oslo University), who had arranged for Rigmor to meet Professor Molland, was the second. The third professor from Oslo University to visit BYU was Francis Sejersted, chairman of the Nobel Peace Prize committee. The fourth was Gudmund Hernes, cabinet minister of Education, Research, and Church Affairs in Norway.

I remember when I was assigned to give my first talk in church. I was given the liberty to choose my subject. I’ve always liked birds, so I thought of the Seagull Monument. In preparation, I went to Temple Square and looked at the monument. First I was attracted to all the coins in the water surrounding the monument. I wondered how they would be retrieved and who would retrieve them. Then I looked upward at the seagulls atop that monument. I tried in my boyish mind to imagine what it would be like to be a pioneer watching the first year’s growth of precious grain being devoured by crickets and then seeing those seagulls, with their lofty wings, descending upon the fields and eating the crickets. I loved the account. I sat down with a pencil in hand and wrote out a two-and-one-half-minute talk. I’ve never forgotten the seagulls. I’ve never forgotten the crickets. I’ve never forgotten my knees knocking together as I gave that talk. I’ve never forgotten the experience of letting some of my innermost feelings be expressed verbally at the pulpit.

Sam tiptoed on stocking feet to the front door. Setting her ice skates gently on the floor so as not to make a sound, she reached for her heavy winter boots. She hadn’t bothered to clean them when she came in yesterday, and they were caked with grime.
No matter. Sam had something more important to think about—getting to the rink the moment it opened. That’s when the skating was best—before the crowds arrived and the ice was still like glass. Tugging on her boots over thick wool socks, she pretended to not notice the mess they’d left on the floor.
“Samantha, is that you?” Mom must have heard her, after all.
Sam stood with her hand on the doorknob, debating whether to answer or slip out quietly. She was tempted to pretend she hadn’t heard her mother’s voice. On the other hand, maybe she could persuade her mother to let her help with the housework later in the day. The dirty floor wasn’t going anywhere, was it?
“Coming, Mom,” she called before yanking off her boots and trudging to the kitchen.
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, her head cradled in her hands. When she glanced up, Sam noticed how pale her mother looked. “Mom,” she blurted before her mother could say a word, “would you mind if I clean the floor later? I promised Judy I’d meet her at the rink first thing this morning.”
Sam thought she detected a flicker of disappointment in her mother’s eyes, but she just smiled. “No, that’s fine, Sam. But would you mind picking up some orange juice and cold medicine at the market? I think I’ve come down with the flu, and I just don’t feel up to going out today.”
“Sure, Mom.” Sam tried to ignore the dark circles etched under her mother’s eyes. “Will it be OK, though, if I pick them up after I’m through skating? Otherwise, I’ll be late getting to the rink.”
“That’ll be fine,” her mother said agreeably.
Sam pocketed the money her mother gave her, then raced to put her boots back on. She’d have to run all the way to the rink if she didn’t want to be late.
Sam arrived at the rink just as it was opening. Judy stood at the door, waiting for her. “Guess what—we’re the only ones here!” she exclaimed gleefully. “We’ll have the whole place to ourselves for a while.”
As they laced up their skates in silence, Sam found herself reliving the moments with her mother in the kitchen. Suddenly it struck her—Mom always worked on Saturdays! Obviously, she wasn’t going in today. Sam knew how hard her mother tried to never miss work. She was paid by the hour, so every day missed, she said, meant a smaller paycheck that week.
“Hey, slowpoke,” Judy teased as she stood up on her skates and clomped over to the ice, “if you don’t hurry up, they’ll be closing this place for the night!”
Sam had grown so absorbed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t finished lacing up her first skate yet. Giving Judy a sheepish grin, she bent over her skates and tried to concentrate.
At last she made it onto the ice. Judy chattered gaily as they glided along. It was a perfect day for skating. The ice was smooth, with barely a nick in it, and there were still only a few other skaters. The subzero temperatures outdoors must have kept the usual crowd at home.
Still, Sam found herself straining to be cheerful. Her enthusiasm for skating seemed to have deserted her this morning. Images of her mother’s pale face kept floating before her eyes.
“Are you OK, Sam?” Judy was tugging at her sleeve.
“Mom’s sick, and I’m worried about her,” Sam confessed.
Judy looked at her in surprise. Sam wasn’t one to worry, and she seldom allowed anything to interfere with having fun. “Do you want to go home?”
“Maybe I’d better. Do you mind?”
“It’s OK with me,” her friend said, smiling at her. “I’m getting cold, anyhow.”
Sam suddenly felt closer to Judy than she’d ever felt before.
When she got home, Sam put the medicine on the table and the juice in the refrigerator. Then she peeked in at her mother, who lay sleeping in her bed, her tired-looking bedspread pulled up under her chin. Sam quietly got the puffy new comforter from her own bed and gently put it over her mother.
She tiptoed from the room, careful not to awaken her mother. If she hurried and worked quietly, maybe she could get the housework done before Mom woke up. Her mother had asked only that Sam tidy up her own room and sweep the floors, but why couldn’t she do all the cleaning today? Glancing at the kitchen clock, she set herself the task of getting as much accomplished as she could in an hour.
The minutes flew by as she dusted, swept, and scrubbed. The pungent scent of lemon oil polish announced the last task being done. Already the kitchen floor glistened and the countertop shone.
Mom walked in just as Sam was putting away the furniture polish. “I thought I heard feet padding down the hall.”
“Look, Mom,” Sam said, taking her mother by the hand and leading her through the apartment. As she showed off her handiwork, she stole a look at her mother’s face. She wasn’t sure which of them was happier.

Ten years ago when Vanessa’s mom and dad, Linda and Doug, wanted their little girl to learn to play a musical instrument, they couldn’t afford a piano. “So we bought a small sized violin,” Linda said. Vanessa started taking lessons in the Suzuki method. She was making great progress and in a few years had moved up to a larger violin while her sister Joanna started learning on the smaller one.

It had been fifty-two years since the Lord had commanded the Saints to build a temple in Nauvoo and warned that if they did not complete it within the allotted time, “your baptisms for your dead shall not be acceptable unto me; and if you do not these things at the end of the appointment ye shall be rejected as a church, with your dead, saith the Lord your God.”

The Saints built the temple, but they were driven away and it was destroyed by the mobs.

Colonel Thomas L. Kane wrote: “They succeeded in parrying the last sword-thrust” of the mobs until “as a closing work, they placed on the entablature of the front …

“The House of the Lord:
“Built by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“Holiness to the Lord!
“… It was this day,” he wrote, that “saw the departure of the last elders, and the largest band that moved in one company together. The people of Iowa have told me, that from morning to night they passed westward like an endless procession. They did not seem greatly out of heart, they said; but, at the top of every hill before they disappeared, were to be seen looking back … on their abandoned homes, and the far-seen Temple and its glittering spire.”

The Saints disappeared beyond the western horizon, beyond Far West, where the cornerstones set seven years earlier were still in place—led by prophets and Apostles who held the keys of the priesthood and who carried in their minds the ordinances of the temple and the authority to administer the new and everlasting covenant.

Although the sun is 400 times larger than the moon, it is also 400 times farther away from the earth.4 From earth’s perspective, this geometry makes the sun and moon appear to be the same size. When the two are aligned just right, the moon seems to obscure the entire sun. Friends and family of mine who were in the zone of total eclipse described how light was replaced by darkness, the stars appeared, and birds quit singing. The air became chilly, as temperatures in an eclipse can decrease by more than 20 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius).5
They described a sense of awe, astonishment, and even anxiety, knowing an eclipse brings certain hazards. However, they all exercised care to prevent permanent eye damage or “eclipse blindness” during the eclipse event. Safety was made possible because they wore glasses equipped with special filtered lenses that protected their eyes from any potential harm.

Pepita Mompó of the Sabadell Ward, Hospitalet stake, was undoubtedly one of the earliest members in Spain; she was baptized in 1964 during a visit with relatives in Brazil. She has served in a wide variety of Primary and Relief Society callings since the pioneering days of the Church in Barcelona. She says: “Every calling carries its own blessings. You learn something from each one.”

One of the most memorable activities that I participated in as a youth was a large dance festival. I am quite certain I never would have volunteered for such an activity. However, with some coaxing, I accepted the invitation to participate, even though at first I wasn’t thrilled about the idea.
We practiced a lot, and learning the dances was a slow process. I am grateful for dedicated instructors, for a patient dance partner, and for my mother, who sewed my costume and encouraged me to do my best.
The festival was held at a football stadium. I had never participated in something so large. Each group entertained the crowd as we performed choreographed dances in colorful costumes. Then the football field literally filled with dancers as all of us performed a closing number together. It turned out to be an impressive show.
I enjoyed that dance festival a lot more than I thought I would. It allowed me to view the Church in a different way. I saw vast numbers of youth having a great time. I met new friends, I developed new skills, and I played a small part in a big production that entertained thousands.
Because I accepted the invitation to dance in that festival—and other invitations that have come to me in the Church—my life has been blessed, and I have had the chance to bless others. I feel so privileged to have had so many wonderful experiences as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

In 1825 Josiah Stowell hired Joseph to work for him in Harmony, Pennsylvania. There he met Emma Hale, and they were married on January 18, 1827. After moving back to Palmyra and receiving the gold plates, Joseph and Emma returned to Harmony and Joseph translated the Book of Mormon. On May 15, 1829, on the banks of the nearby Susquehanna River, Joseph and Oliver Cowdery were baptized and received the Aaronic Priesthood through John the Baptist. Later, in another location on the Susquehanna River, they were given the Melchizedek Priesthood through Peter, James, and John.

Of course, as our children matured, we read from the Book of Mormon and other scriptures directly. We tried faithfully to read from the scriptures every morning, even though some of the children were wrapped up in blankets with their eyes half closed. Nevertheless, they now report that they were listening, remembering, and planting seeds for the future.

I really like the Friend magazine. I especially like to listen to it. Every month my dad downloads the magazine and burns it to a CD so that I can listen to it being read to me as I fall asleep at night.

When I finished high school, I knew I had to wait at least two years before serving a mission. I decided to start my college education, calculating that I could be done with medical school in about six years if I invested myself fully. I planned to serve a full-time mission afterward.
After completing medical school at age 24, I started a clinical apprenticeship, which furthered my career opportunities. During this time a dilemma unfolded: should I really serve a mission, or should I keep working? My parents, my older brother (who had recently returned from his mission), my bishop, and a counselor in the local mission presidency all exhorted me to serve.
I believed they were right, but it was difficult to delay my promising medical career. I prayed and fasted for inspiration. I also consulted my patriarchal blessing, which recommended that I serve a full-time mission and promised blessings as a result.
One day, as I was taking public transport home from my apprenticeship, I ran into the stake patriarch. We got off at the same stop and, curiously, started walking in the same direction. He recognized me as a member of the Church.
As we walked together, he asked me what I was planning to do with my life. I explained that I was a doctor and was troubled about deciding between my career and a mission. He told me in a firm voice to serve the Lord by going on a mission, adding that I would be blessed as a result. To me, his response seemed to come from the Lord.
Immediately the following scripture entered my mind: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you” (3 Nephi 13:33).
I was certain the Lord had answered me. Without further hesitation, I decided to delay my professional career and serve a full-time mission. My fellow doctors thought I would forget medical practices after being away for two years. They harassed me, but I held firm to my decision.
Leaving behind my “Dr.” title, I served two years in the Democratic Republic of Congo Kinshasa Mission.
Five years later, I made a list of the major blessings that followed my service. Foremost, I found a wife—a faithful Church member and my crowning joy. We have two children so far. Our family is sealed for eternity. In the temple we have acted as proxies in performing ordinances for our deceased ancestors. I have secure employment, allowing my family to be self-reliant. These are only a few of the blessings we have received from the Lord.
I know that Heavenly Father never lies and that eventually He fulfills all His promises to us as we put our trust in Him and keep His commandments.

On a sunny spring day in 2017, the open house for the Paris France Temple was well underway when one of the tour guides was approached by a man with a sorrowful expression on his face. He said he lived next to the temple and admitted he had been an active opponent of its construction. He related that one day as he was gazing out of his apartment window, he watched a large crane lower a statue of Jesus from the heavens and softly place it on the temple grounds. The man declared that this experience completely changed his feelings toward our Church. He realized we were followers of Jesus Christ and begged our forgiveness for the previous harm he might have caused.

The past six months seem to have passed rapidly as I’ve been busy with many responsibilities. One of the great blessings during this time was to rededicate the beautiful Laie Hawaii Temple, which had been undergoing extensive renovations for nearly two years. I was accompanied by President and Sister Henry B. Eyring, Elder and Sister Quentin L. Cook, and Elder and Sister William R. Walker. During the evening prior to the rededication, which took place during November, we watched 2,000 young people from the temple district as they filled the Cannon Activities Center on the BYU–Hawaii campus and performed for us. Their production was titled “The Gathering Place” and creatively and masterfully recounted significant events in local Church history and the history of the temple. What a wonderful evening it was!
The following day was a spiritual feast as the temple was rededicated in three sessions. The Spirit of the Lord was with us in rich abundance.

I felt very proud as I read “Into the Wild Blue Yonder” in the June 1982 issue of the New Era. I believe I know what those cadets are going through. I’ve been in the air force for over 18 months. I also have a desire to fulfill a mission after my enlistment is over. Thank you for helping me to find and realize my own goals and desires in life.
Kent T. EgelundCheyenne, Wyoming

“I would like to be able to write,” Lynda muses, “but that requires a cloistered environment, and I certainly don’t have that living in an apartment with a husband and eight children! I can work on these quilts at the park and at home and still be with my family. I was not trained as an artist, so when I began, I didn’t know what I couldn’t do—I was free to experiment and make my own creations. Some have not been as successful as others, but I like fabrics, and I like to work with them and make beautiful things with them.”
Lynda, surrounded by the fabric, the family, and the city she loves, explains, “This is the way I have recorded my own personal history and the history of my family.”