Gospel Story Finder

Many non-Mormons who met Joseph were impressed. For example, Josiah Quincy, a Harvard graduate and soon-to-be mayor of Boston, visited Joseph Smith in Nauvoo. He said Joseph was a “phenomenon to be explained,” a man born to lead, “of commanding appearance … whom it seemed natural to obey.” He said that future textbooks might refer to Joseph Smith as exerting “powerful influence upon the destinies of his countrymen.”1

For example, a few years ago, my husband and I celebrated Día de Muertos with a friend from Mexico. We spent the day remembering departed loved ones whose absences have left a hole in my heart.
This celebration helped us better love those who have passed on and brought the Spirit into our home. I felt healing enter my heart, and my testimony of eternal families deepened.

Elder Perkins also shared a tender and beautiful example of this strengthening power when he was in severe pain in his battle with cancer: “I sat with my wife, intending to offer a routine blessing on our lunch. Instead, all I could do was simply weep, ‘Heavenly Father, please help me. I am so sick.’ For the next 20 to 30 seconds, I was encircled in His love. I was given no reason for my illness, no indication of the ultimate outcome, and no relief from the pain. I just felt of His pure love, and that was and is enough.”8

“Some things don’t happen right away. … But progress is progress, no matter how small.”
When Zyon’s parents got married, his mom was a member of the Church, but his dad wasn’t. After several years, his dad still hadn’t been baptized. Zyon’s siblings also struggled with their faith, and even Zyon sometimes felt overwhelmed trying to do what the Lord asked.
But he knew that no matter what, God loved them and could help them.
“He has an eternal love for us,” Zyon says, “and that love will never fade. No matter what we do, we can always come back to it. No matter how far we fall, we can always rise back up.”
Zyon decided that even though his family was struggling with their testimonies, he could strengthen his own. One way he did that was by determining to serve a mission when he’s old enough.
“Ever since it first clicked that I could someday serve a mission,” Zyon says, “I’ve seen so clearly how He has lined things up to help me prepare to serve.”
Since making that decision, Zyon began to see how the Lord was preparing not only him but also his family to receive great blessings. His dad finally decided to get baptized. Later, Zyon was sealed to his parents. His older siblings even started coming back to church.
Zyon says he learned an important lesson: “Even if we don’t see it, even if we don’t fully understand it, the Lord is always preparing us to do as He commands and to receive all that He can give us.”

When I was a little boy, I used to lose things. I would look all around, but I couldn’t find them. After going through the house two or three times without finding anything, I would pray to Heavenly Father to help me. When I started looking again, I would find what I was missing. That happened to me several times as a child. Those times helped me learn to trust that Heavenly Father hears and answers my prayers.

Born in England, Sister Lawson emigrated to Australia in 1966 at the age of 30. She suffers from acute arthritic and bronchial conditions, so her doctor had recommended a warmer climate.
But her health continued to deteriorate. When she finally needed a cane to walk, her doctor told her she should go to the north of Australia, where the climate is distinctly warmer and much more humid. Ever since then, her home has been in Kununurra, where she works as a medical laboratory technician.

During World War II, in the early part of 1944, an experience involving the priesthood took place as United States marines were taking Kwajalein Atoll, part of the Marshall Islands and located in the Pacific Ocean about midway between Australia and Hawaii. What took place in this regard was related by a correspondent—not a member of the Church—who worked for a newspaper in Hawaii. In the 1944 newspaper article he wrote following the experience, he explained that he and other correspondents were in the second wave behind the marines at Kwajalein Atoll. As they advanced, they noticed a young marine floating facedown in the water, obviously badly wounded. The shallow water around him was red with his blood. And then they noticed another marine moving toward his wounded comrade. The second marine was also wounded, with his left arm hanging helplessly by his side. He lifted up the head of the one who was floating in the water in order to keep him from drowning. In a panicky voice he called for help. The correspondents looked again at the boy he was supporting and called back, “Son, there is nothing we can do for this boy.”

“Then,” wrote the correspondent, “I saw something that I had never seen before.” This boy, badly wounded himself, made his way to the shore with the seemingly lifeless body of his fellow marine. He “put the head of his companion on his knee. … What a picture that was—these two mortally wounded boys—both … clean, wonderful-looking young men, even in their distressing situation. And the one boy bowed his head over the other and said, ‘I command you, in the name of Jesus Christ and by the power of the priesthood, to remain alive until I can get medical help.’” The correspondent concluded his article: “The three of us [the two marines and I] are here in the hospital. The doctors don’t know [how they made it alive], but I know.”11

I’m trying to be a missionary, like you said, but it’s hard. When I went to the mall with Mom, I waited on a bench while she was in a store. A man sat next to me. He was smoking. I told him that smoking is bad and that Heavenly Father didn’t want him to smoke. He laughed at me. He said that I shouldn’t tell him what to do. I think that I’ll wait to be a missionary. I’m not ready yet.

“One. Two. Three. Pull!” The pullers jerk the handles surrounding the walrus skin blanket outward, sending 17-year-old Karmy McKay soaring high into the air. The spotter yells to the pullers and tugs the blanket to guide them to where Karmy will come down. She wobbles a bit, but manages to land on both feet. She grins, gamely ready to try the blanket toss again. Tourists applaud their approval.
Entertaining tourists is just one facet of Karmy’s day. Like many Latter-day Saint teens, her schedule is busy. She has a summer job, attends church meetings, helps around the house, works out, spends time with her friends, and plans her future. But Karmy does all this in a small, predominantly Inupiat Eskimo village north of the Arctic Circle.
Karmy and her brother, Kris, 16, are the only Mormon teens for hundreds of miles. There are 15 members in the Kotzebue Branch, and seven are members of the McKay family.
Rising early, Karmy pedals down the main dirt road to work at the village’s hotel, waving to everyone she meets. “That’s one of the things I like about living here,” says Karmy, who wears a kuspuk, a colorful print cotton parka, over her clothes. “You know everybody.”
Most summer days in Kotzebue are overcast and gray. The village is almost an island on a narrow neck of land surrounded by water, and is only 200 miles away from Russia. There is no movie house or swimming pool for Karmy and her family to go to. The teen center—with a TV and video games, several small playgrounds, and a ball field—does provide additional options for summer activities.
Mainly, though, kids provide their own entertainment. When they have free time, Karmy, Kris, and the other McKay children (Mindy, 11, Levi, 9, and Logan, 8), like to ride their bikes over the dirt roads. There are no mountains or trees here, just rolling tundra, covered with tiny low-lying plants. There are wildflowers of every hue. A constant breeze helps dissipate the clouds of mosquitoes and no-see-ums, a gnat with a particularly nasty bite.
Karmy, of Canadian-Yugoslavian descent, likes the small community. “Everyone here is friendly,” she says. “I’ve had opportunities I couldn’t have had anywhere else. Here, you can be involved in everything.”
That is, everything that’s “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy.” Valedictorian of her graduating class, she was also the president of student government and was involved with Future Homemakers of America, the National Honor Society, and Alaska State Battle of the Books. She played basketball and volleyball, ran cross-country, took Russian classes, completed home-study seminary, and earned her Young Women Recognition.
“In some ways I’ve missed out,” Karmy says about the lack of LDS youth. “I would have liked to have gone to Church activities with a lot of kids. I went to a youth conference in Utah once and that was neat. Here, standards are low. Kids drink, smoke, and tell dirty jokes. I have different values.”
Occasionally a “debate” will come up about the Church. Some people have bad feelings about Mormons. “I try to stay calm and politely correct them,” she says. Her own friends have, in Karmy’s words, “grown to respect my values. I think respect builds up over time.”
Along the shore, boats of various color gently sway with the dark water. The raucous calls of ravens disturb the stillness.
Less than a block away from the beach is the Kotzebue chapel, where Karmy and her family have spent many hours. Constructed in 1981, it replaced the old chapel, a building the McKays eventually bought and remodeled into their home.
It is in these two places where Karmy has developed a close, personal relationship with her Heavenly Father. The smallness of the branch has provided her ample opportunity to give talks and prayers. Through personal prayer, and church and seminary attendance, the gospel has become essential to her.

My friends at school wanted to know what made me stand out from other people. I told them that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The next day, I brought them each a copy of the For the Strength of Youth guide.
I introduced those who were interested to the missionaries, and one of my friends got baptized! This experience helped me understand that I am a disciple of Jesus Christ, and by my example I can bring souls to Christ.
I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.

As we planned on using the article, “Michaela and the Marshmallows,” it caused a discussion about just what homemade marshmallows would be like. We found a recipe for homemade marshmallows and tried it out. They were good, not as stiff as those you buy, but interesting especially if you roll them in a variety of toppings. We are posting the recipe online for you.

In October 2019, Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf and his wife, Harriet, went to Germany for the rededication of the Frankfurt Germany Temple.
The temple was closed so it could be renovated (repaired). Afterward, it had to be dedicated again.
First there was an open house. Anyone could come. They put shoe covers on before walking through the temple.
Elder and Sister Uchtdorf also met with the youth. “When you come to the temple, always think of Jesus Christ and what He means to you!” Elder Uchtdorf said.
Elder Uchtdorf said a special prayer to dedicate the temple. Then the temple was, once again, the house of the Lord!
“A dedication of the house of the Lord is a time of joy. It is a time of gratitude.” *

I have been given an exciting assignment to assist in planning the United States of America’s bicentennial celebration. I have never had an assignment which has given me a clearer vision of history and an opportunity to observe the operations of government.
Some months ago I was asked to assist in inviting many of the religious leaders of America to a special meeting for the purpose of increasing the participation of religious congregations in our nation’s bicentennial celebration. About 400 of us assembled in Washington, D.C., and spent two days together discussing ways in which we could make a contribution to this exciting celebration.
While I found myself having a deep respect and admiration for many of the religious leaders in attendance, I also found myself having some grave concerns over a number whom I guess you would describe as the liberal element.
Part of the program covering this two-day period was to divide ourselves into small discussion groups of about twenty in number to examine the role the churches would play during this celebration.
As we concluded the first day I discussed the possibility, with a bright young colleague I had invited to attend this assembly with me, of preparing a declaration for the churches of this land to jointly proclaim to our countrymen, a reaffirmation of our need for divine guidance, an expression of gratitude for the Lord’s hand in directing the formation of the government of the United States of America. I don’t know how late this young man stayed up that night but when I met him for breakfast the following morning he had an excellent draft of the proposed declaration.
I was excited with the possibility of presenting it to our small discussion group as we assembled together that morning. However, my enthusiasm rapidly dissipated. We soon discovered it was the consensus of this small group of religious leaders that any declaration referring to the Lord our God would not be acceptable. They reasoned such a declaration would be offensive to the atheist. After all, they stated, the atheist has a right to his belief, also. Of course, I completely agree that all men must have their right of free agency but I argued vigorously against locking up our own firm convictions just because they could not be accepted by everyone. The more we argued, the more the opposition united against us. We were not able to get ours or any other declaration out of committee.
I was so shocked with the outcome and obvious futility of our efforts that I had to seek out the religious leader who opposed our declaration. In talking to him I found myself suffering from even a greater shock. Here was a man with divinity degrees listed in a long string of letters behind his name, a leader of a Christian congregation, giving these kinds of answers to my questions:
Question: “Do you not believe that God inspired the early leaders of this country in the formation of this great nation?”
Answer: “I find no evidence in my studies of God’s hand directing the affairs of mankind in any age.”
Question: “With such a philosophy, how do you stand in front of your congregation each week and teach Christian doctrine?”
Answer: “Oh, it is not difficult. I gather together a representative group of the congregation and whatever is the consensus of this group, this is what I preach.”
Once again, I repeat that while in Washington, D.C., attending this gathering I met many devout and wonderful church leaders, but I must say as I returned home from this trip I had a growing concern that from the pulpits of many of our churches in this land as well as in the world in general there is an increasing tendency to teach the doctrines of man rather than that which God has directed.
As the meeting concluded I had great disappointment that a declaration of gratitude to our Eternal Father had not been pronounced or produced by this great body of religious leaders. However, I came away with the firm resolve that I would at least let my voice be heard on two issues during this bicentennial year.

I’m glad right now that I’m not It,
Because I can see
A really good place to hide
Near the hawthorn tree.
And just as soon as It hides his eyes
And begins to count, I’ll run
And scrunch flat, and then, I bet,
I won’t be seen by anyone.
Ah, there—he’s counting—here I go.
Whee! I made it! Now I’ll lie flat—
But here comes Pussy after me!
Get out of here, cat! Scat!
Stop rubbing up against me! Beat it!
Cat, go away, I say!
Why must you come and tag along
Every time I play?
Now, see what you’ve gone and done!
It has seen me, all because of you!
And now I have to seek and find,
And all my hiding’s through.
Scat, cat! SCAT!

I’ve had poor eyesight for as long as I can remember and have always needed the aid of prescription lenses to correct my vision. When I open my eyes every morning, the world appears very disorienting. Everything is out of focus, grainy, and distorted. Even my dear husband is more reminiscent of an abstract portrait than the well-loved and comforting figure he really is! My reflexive need, before I do anything else at the start of my day, is to reach for my glasses to help me make sense of my surroundings and enjoy a more vibrant experience as they help me navigate throughout my day.

Dear Great-Aunt Louella,
Thank you for the socks. They’re really great for keeping my feet warm. I’m going to wear them the next time I go camping.
Are you still doing volunteer work with the animal shelter? I’m sending you pictures of the new one that’s being built here. I hope that you’ll enjoy sharing them with your friends.
I’ll be starting school again in a few weeks. I’ll be in the fourth grade this year. I hope that my teachers don’t give me too much homework.
Thank you again for the socks.
Love,Gary

This is an important anniversary year in the history of the Church, as all of you know. It is the 150th anniversary of the coming of the Willie and Martin handcart companies and the Hunt and Hodgett wagon companies which accompanied them.
Much has been written concerning this, and I need not go into detail. All of you are familiar with the story. Suffice it to say that those who set out on the long journey from the British Isles to the valley of the Great Salt Lake began their travel in faith. They had little or no knowledge of what they were getting into. But they moved forward. They began their journey with great expectation. That expectation gradually failed them as they moved west. As they commenced the tedious journey following the Platte River and then up the valley of the Sweetwater, the cold hand of death took its fearsome toll. Their food was rationed; their oxen died; their carts broke down; they had inadequate bedding and clothing. Storms raged. They sought shelter, but they found none. The storms beat about them. They literally starved to death. Scores died and were buried in the frozen ground.
Fortunately, they were passed by Franklin D. Richards on his way from England. He had a lightweight conveyance with horses and was able to travel much faster. He came on to this valley. It was this very season of the year. The general conference was in session. When Brigham Young received the news, he immediately stood before the congregation and said:
“I will now give this people the subject and the text for the Elders who may speak to-day and during the conference, it is this, on the 5th day of October, 1856, many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with hand-carts, and probably many are now 700 miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. The text will be, ‘to get them here.’ I want the brethren who may speak to understand that their text is the people on the plains, and the subject matter for this community is to send for them and bring them in before the winter sets in. …
“I shall call upon the Bishops this day, I shall not wait until to-morrow, nor until [the] next day, for 60 good mule teams and 12 or 15 wagons. I do not want to send oxen, I want good horses and mules. They are in this Territory, and we must have them; also 12 tons of flour and 40 good teamsters, … 60 or 65 good spans of mules, or horses, with harness. …
“I will tell you all,” said he, “that your faith, religion, and profession of religion, will never save one soul of you in the celestial kingdom of our God, unless you carry out just such principles as I am now teaching you. Go and bring in those people now on the plains, and attend strictly to those things which we call temporal, or temporal duties, otherwise your faith will be in vain; the preaching you have heard will be in vain to you, and you will sink to hell, unless you attend to the things we tell you” (Deseret News, Oct. 15, 1856, 252).
Immediately horses and mules and strong wagons were offered. Flour in abundance was forthcoming. Warm clothing and bedding were quickly assembled. Within a day or two the loaded wagons were moving eastward through the snow.
When the rescuers reached the beleaguered Saints, they were like angels from heaven. People wept tears of gratitude. The handcart people were transferred into wagons so they could travel more quickly to the Salt Lake community.
Some two hundred died, but a thousand were saved.

The following month in Anchorage, Alaska, Latter-day Saints radiated the same spirit of joy as they celebrated the rededication of their temple. Dressed in costumes that harkened back to their past, 600 Church members performed an original musical program honoring the cultural heritage of native Alaska.

In spring, I spade my garden, (Pretend to dig.)
Then make a long, straight row. (Act like you are making a row with a hoe.)
I place the seeds in, one by one, (Plant seeds.)
And cover them just so. (Pat dirt over seeds.)
I water all the little seeds, (Sprinkle seeds with watering can.)
Pull weeds until it’s neat. (Pretend to pull weeds.)
And then I pick my vegetables, (Bend over and pick.)
And eat and eat and eat. (Eat tomatoes, corn, carrots, peas, etc.)

One Sunday morning, Janalee Gale, a nurse working at a large Salt Lake City hospital, heard an announcement about church services for patients. Janalee checked with her patients, but found that most of them were too ill or too tired to attend.
However, one woman—a Latter-day Saint—said that she would like to attend the Latter-day Saint service. Janalee quickly helped the patient get ready and combed her hair. Although the patient was in constant pain, she didn’t complain.
Some time later, the woman took Janalee’s hand and said, “I just wanted to thank you for helping me get to church. I haven’t been for awhile because I’ve been so ill. When I partook of the sacrament …” she paused, then continued, “I felt God’s Spirit, and I just knew that Christ is my Savior.” Both women were moved to tears. (See Tambuli, December 1983, “The Forgotten Sabbath,” by Janalee Gale.)