Gospel Story Finder

“Choose your friends wisely, for you will tend to be like them.” I had seen this little sign a million times and never thought anything of it. It was only one of many strategically placed thoughts and quotes that dotted the walls of our home. This one happened to be in the best location of all—right above the kitchen table.
When friends came over, we naturally congregated in the kitchen. Dates, late night movies, and quick lunches almost all involved the kitchen. Mom knew this and planned her attack accordingly. Years later I realized what a direct hit Mom had scored.
I was blessed with a lot of friends who are also members of the Church. We went to church and school together, and most of us went on missions at about the same time. However, there was one who was not exactly like the rest of us. His parents were divorced, and he was shuffled between their homes and the homes of friends. As a result, I think he always felt a little isolated and alone. He wore his hair long and always had at least one earring. Regardless, we loved him, and he was one of us.
During high school we witnessed him change; it was great. A short time after his 19th birthday he submitted his mission papers and received a call. A couple of months later we really understood the significance of this event.
The realization came on a cold, crisp Sunday in January. My friends and I had gathered to hear this young man speak in sacrament meeting. I had been invited to perform a musical number, so I sat on the stand. As I gazed over the crowd, I saw all of our friends, as well as my family; it was a wonderful sight. As my friend ventured to the pulpit, his eyes were a little red.
His talk opened with a question: “Do any of you know why I am here? Well, it is really very simple. I am here because of the many meals eaten at a friend’s table, a table with a sign above it that reads, ‘Choose your friends wisely, for you will tend to be like them.’ I want my friends to know that without their influence and love I wouldn’t be here today.”
As I looked down into the crowd, I saw my mother with tearful eyes and a smile.
From that day on, I have also thought about the effects my friends have had on my life. I don’t know if I would have served a mission without their example. I don’t know what kind of a person I would be today if it hadn’t been for the strength and love I received from such wonderful people. For that, I will be forever grateful, both to them and to my Heavenly Father.
I know that no one has forgotten the message shared from that pulpit. I also know that that sign, to this day, still hangs above our kitchen table.

In 1998, when I was Young Men president in my ward, I participated in a stake youth camp. As I was resting after a game, I saw a young man I didn’t know. He was sitting alone on a little mound away from the camp. He had an unpleasant expression on his face. I felt I needed to go over and talk to him.
I introduced myself and asked his name. I don’t remember all that we talked about, but I do remember that I shed a few tears. It was a special conversation that lasted until they called us to the next activity. I rarely saw the young man after that and never had another chance to talk to him.
In August 2005 we had a meeting at our stake center. This same young man came up to me and gave me a letter. It read:
I started thinking today about our conversation in San Martin Park in about 1998. Just to remind you, I was sitting by myself and feeling a bit sad. You came up to me and said you felt you needed to talk to me. You said … the time had come to choose—either to stay with the Church and follow Jesus Christ or leave it and not enjoy the blessings that come from activity in the Church. The one thing that really stayed with me was when you said that if I fell, my whole family would fall with me, but if I would keep moving forward, they would come too.
… A great desire arose in me to help them. … So from the day we had that talk, I made the decision to be faithful to the Lord, and even now, after seven years, I am still faithful, and my family is firm in the gospel and faithful to the Lord. … Thank you so much for being so straightforward and truthful with me. You’ll never know how much good it did.
This young man is now a returned missionary who has been married in the temple. I am grateful to the Lord for giving me the opportunity to serve as a leader. I am grateful to come to understand the importance of putting myself in others’ shoes so I can try to understand what they are going through.
Alejandro Humberto Villarreal, Argentina

They’ve been running together since they were eight years old. At first, Nachelle and Natalie Stewart would run around the neighborhood together. Today, they run in state and national track championships—and win. They helped the Spanish Fork High School track team become state champions three times, and in 2008 they were invited to compete in the exclusive Nike Outdoor Nationals, where Nachelle took home the bronze in the 800m and Natalie took home the silver in the 400m. Although they often compete against each other in the same events and each tries her best to come out on top—often breaking the other’s record—Nachelle and Natalie remain best friends and are happy to see each other succeed.

Sister Kainessie, serving in the Sierra Leone Freetown Mission, talked about the early start to online MTC classes. “I have to ride my bike, and also I have to get up around 6:00 because they said we should be at the chapel around 6:30 for us to prepare to get our breakfast.”
Kainessie said, “The MTC grew me in a way that I learned how to teach and also how to approach my interested members. Even when I went into the field, I did not find it difficult.”

I recall a day when one of our children was leaving for school with his friend. I waved good-bye and called out, “Remember who you are.” As they walked away, I overheard the friend ask, “Why does your mother always say that to you? What does she mean?” I heard our son’s quick reply, “She means, ‘Be good.’” He was exactly right. We remember who we are by doing good, and we do good when we remember who we are.

On a chilly winter morning, I decided to entertain myself and my one-year-old daughter the best way I knew how—by singing through an empty toilet roll. My daughter began to bob up and down, grinning as she did. I began to reflect on the power of music, and how without ever being taught, the youngest of us know how to dance.

When he’s not helping others, he works on his own family line. Recently, he found an ancestor for whom the family had been searching for years. At that point, one of his relatives remarked, “He really does know what he’s doing, doesn’t he?”

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki(Continued from September)
Please, Heavenly Father, please help Digger get well.
At the vet’s the next dayDigger ate some food today—that’s a good sign.
A few days laterDigger’s standing up. I think he’s going to be OK.
Dad, when Tim’s dog got sick, Tim prayed, too. But Blackie died anyway. Doesn’t Heavenly Father love Tim?
Yes, and He loves Blackie, too. He always answers our prayers with love. But we know so much less than He does that sometimes we can’t understand.
Thank you, for healing Digger, Heavenly Father. And please help me help Tim feel better.

In order to take full advantage of a patriarchal blessing, you need to be worthy and prepared to receive it. First, meet with your bishop or branch president to get a recommend. Then make an appointment with your stake patriarch. Finally, prepare spiritually to receive your blessing. Erin remembered, “I had some definite questions in mind when I went to have my blessing. I prepared for several weeks to be spiritually in tune, and I went to the blessing fasting and praying. I received direction and inspiration for these and other questions I hadn’t thought of yet.”

The most important question in life is: what is happiness? Two things immediately come to mind. What pleases the eye and what pleases the heart. But we would certainly be wrong if we failed to perceive the hands of God in what happened.
Eight days after my baptism, I received the Aaronic Priesthood, and I was very scared. I knew what it meant, and then after four months, on March 7, I received the Melchizedek Priesthood. I was very happy about the outstanding fact that I had already received the higher priesthood four months after my baptism.
I am grateful that after only four months I would receive this precious spiritual authority from God through the bishop, with the approval of the president and the sustaining of the ward members. I was there for the purpose of learning and at the same time developing mental discipline with the help of the leaders, the ministers of the Lord Jesus.
I am happy, and I cannot hide it, because I never thought that in such a short time, that in less than a year, I would grow so quickly as a member of the Church.
To receive these two priesthoods is to recognize the majesty of God and of His beloved Son Jesus Christ. At the same time, it implies diligence in the worthiness of the recipient.
As I received the blessings and the highly spiritual power of the Melchizedek Priesthood, I would have incessantly on my mind: how admirable is the divine plan, somehow subject to man, but certainly absolutely subject to the Lord Jesus Christ, to receive this wonderful ordination in His Church.
I must try to be close to the angels, observed by the seraphim. I must make myself worthy and even more, quite worthy of that trust that the bishop and the Lord have granted me. I need to master my words and thoughts in every moment and circumstance, so that I know how to sustain what is right, inside and outside the chapel. Always be ready to answer in spiritual accountability to the Lord. May my ears know how to be attentive to any invitation from the Holy Spirit.
Brother Arnel Jean Mary is a member of the Gazcue Ward, Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Stake. He received the Melchizedek Priesthood this year, 2021.

It was very hard for me to learn the Finnish language, but I learned how to sing “I Am a Child of God” in Finnish. That helped me remember who I was, what I could do, and whose help would always be available to me. There is not a more powerful scripture in my mind than “I am a child of God, and He has sent me here.”* The gospel of Jesus Christ has helped me remember who I am. I believe that when you know you are a child of God, you can do anything.

Years ago my mother shared that her two best gospel conversations with my older brother, Matt, were once while she was folding laundry and another time while driving him to the dentist. One of the many things I admired about my mother was her readiness to teach her children.

I am a nonmember. Eighteen months ago, while I was living in Idaho as an exchange student from Guatemala City, Guatemala, I first learned about the Church. Since that time, I have studied and prayed about it until I received a testimony, a testimony that grows when I read the New Era. I read it from cover to cover, and I enjoy each one of its articles. I especially liked “President Kimball Speaks Out on Being a Missionary” in the May issue and “Private Battle” by Kevin Kennedy in the July issue. I am grateful for the publication of such a great magazine.
I am especially grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Dewey Jensen who gave me my subscription. They were the first two Mormons I met, and they gave me a really good example of what it means to be a Mormon. I consider them to be my second parents. I am also grateful to the missionaries who taught me the gospel. Gracias.
Ana OvandoGuatemala City, Guatemala

I was raised in a community in the western valleys of Utah. The town, Tooele, was settled by pioneers. When precious ore deposits were discovered in the nearby mountains, people came in from southern and eastern Europe who had a different culture and different religious preferences. They came to work in the mines and at the smelter.
They settled just east of town and called their community “New Town.” From almost the beginning, there was division and suspicion and misunderstanding between the new residents, who brought with them their old-country customs, and the people of the more established community, who were mostly of pioneer stock. The two groups seldom mixed.
One year the high school hired a football coach fresh out of Utah State by the name of Sterling Harris. Coach Harris, as he came to be known, was outgoing and just a little irreverent. He went throughout the old town and the new town and made sure he got all the boys in school and then out for football. He had a nickname for everyone, and after a while it became a sort of status symbol to carry a Sterling Harris nickname.
It wasn’t long after that before he had the Gowns and the Whitehouses lined up next to the Savages and the Stepics, and the Ormes and the Melinkoviches running from the same backfield. He was tough but impartial, and he had about him a presence that made people feel important and want to do their best.
The team came together, and Coach Harris even took them to more than one state championship. But what was more important, in bringing the team together he brought the whole community together. Walls were broken down. People from diverse cultures learned they could build on mutual respect and appreciation. Sterling Harris had become a bridge.
Sterling Harris still lives in Tooele; he is ninety-one years of age. He went on to accomplish many other things in his life, including being superintendent of schools and a leader in the Church, but none was more important than helping a community to unite itself and reestablish the principle of respect for others of different backgrounds and cultures.
In the cities of this world, in the towns, in the neighborhoods, in the homes, we need more Sterling Harrises from every walk of life.

One important event in Kayli’s life happened before she was even walking and talking. While Kayli was still very young, her older sister Jenny met the missionaries in college and joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. After attending one year of college in Alaska, Jenny transferred to BYU–Idaho, where she met her husband, Matt. After graduation, Matt and Jenny moved to Texas.
When they took in the younger siblings, Matt and Jenny had two rules about religion: “The first was that they would attend church with us, as part of the family,” says Jenny. “The second rule was that Matt and I would never require them to be baptized or even to take the missionary lessons. That had to be their own choice.”

Back in the year 2000, Christina Jenkins’s family had a grand idea for family scripture study: why not read the whole Book of Mormon in a month?! The family, from Yorktown, Virginia, started the month before the school year started, and her dad calculated they would need to read at least 17 pages a day to meet their goal. To help them feel the true spirit of the Book of Mormon, the Jenkins family also decided not to watch television for that month.

“The events that occurred and the lessons we learned became so much clearer,” Christina says. “Reading the Book of Mormon personally and with my family each year has strengthened my testimony of the Book of Mormon and of the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

Christina’s family enjoyed their month-long reading of the Book of Mormon so much they have done it every year since.

When my wife and I visited Salt Lake City recently, we needed to find an ATM on the street. While we were looking around, we heard a voice from a parked car behind us say, “Are you looking for something? Can I help you?” The man, who introduced himself as Mike, added with a smile that it feels probably weird for a stranger to yell at us from a car, but in Utah we might not be surprised by that. He asked where we are from and when he learned that we are from Prague, his eyes lit up. He had recently spoken to a friend of his who was having trouble getting information about her ancestors from the Czech Republic, so he immediately wondered if there was anything we could do to help. We replied that we would be happy to send him contacts of brothers and sisters who were doing genealogy in our country. He thanked us, we said goodbye and he got into his car. As we were leaving, we noticed that Mike had gotten out of the car again and was coming back to us. This time, however, the happy smile was replaced by emotion.
With tears in his eyes, he told us how grateful he was for our brief encounter and that he felt urged to get out of the car. He had been trying unsuccessfully to help his friend with genealogy in Bohemia for a long time, and because of her advanced age, she was losing hope of finding her ancestors in Bohemia. Mike too was about to give up, but the previous day when he visited the temple he felt that the solution would come - and it came through us. And so he wanted to share with us the joy and gratitude he felt at another testimony of how wonderfully God‘s guidance works in our lives.
Our encounter with Mike is an example of how the Spirit works. Mike made an effort to listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and through his willingness to help complete strangers, he subsequently received not only help for his friend, but we all received another testimony of how God, through the Spirit, gives us answers and brings solutions. Yes, it was a small thing, but it is from such small and tiny things that the great mosaic of spiritual knowledge in our lives is made.

I once asked Dad if I would see an angel. He said that he didn’t know, but he hoped so. “They’re all around us, you know.”
Well, I saw one last Sunday, I think.
Before I tell you about it, though, I need to explain something. Sometimes Sundays are hard for me. I don’t understand much of what happens in sacrament meetings, and since my feet don’t touch the floor, my legs hurt from hanging over the bench. I think that parents ought to sit on giant chairs every week, dangling their legs above the ground while listening to someone speaking in a foreign language, so that they understand what it’s like.
Last Sunday was hard. Sacrament meeting had seemed extra long, and the baby behind us cried a lot. By the time I got to Sharing Time, I just wanted to go home to my pet caterpillar, Zipper. Jimmy Pasko and Fred Grey didn’t help, either. They kept talking to me about the movie they had seen on Saturday. It sounded a lot more interesting than Sharing Time.
I kept moving around on my chair, trying to get my legs to quit hurting. Finally I leaned my chair back against the wall and stretched my arms. It was an accident, but I hit the light switch, and all the lights turned off. A lot of the kids laughed. I quickly turned them back on. Then, for some reason, I flipped them off again—but that time it was on purpose.
That’s when the angel came,
I didn’t think she was an angel at first. She looked more like an upset Sister Eisen of the Primary presidency. She came from the front of the room, staring at me with wide blue eyes. She looked like Mom does when she has a headache and I’m pestering her.
Sister Eisen bent down and whispered, “Dan, let’s go outside for a moment.”
I thought that she would talk to me about being reverent and threaten to get my parents if I didn’t behave. But instead, after we left the room, she calmly asked, “Dan, how are you doing?”
I didn’t feel safe, so I shrugged my shoulders.
“Having a hard time today?” she asked then, still calm.
Feeling safer, I said, “I hate it in there. Sometimes I just hate Primary.” After I said it, I thought I had made a mistake. I was sure that she would talk to me about my attitude.
But she surprised me. She said, “Tell me why you hate it.”
I thought for a moment, then decided to tell her the complete truth. “My legs hurt from dangling over the seat in sacrament meeting, I didn’t understand what the speakers said, my chair is hard, it’s hot and noisy in the Primary room, I’m tired of sitting, Jimmy and Fred keep talking to me, and I wish I were somewhere else.”
Then she said, half smiling, “I know. Sometimes I wish that I were somewhere else too. So, what do you need to do, Dan?”
“I just need to walk around.”
“Do you need a drink?”
I thought for a second, then said, “No, not now. Just a walk.”
“How far?”
“Just to the end of the hall.”
She said, “OK. May I walk with you?”
“Sure,” I said. We started walking, but I stopped. I looked at her and said, “Sometimes you hate it here too?”
“Well,” she answered, “let’s say that sometimes I have a hard time being here.”
“Then why are you here? You’re a grown-up. No one makes you come.”
“Because,” she said, “it’s OK to do something we don’t like, especially when we know that it’s right.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at me for a moment. “Dan, do you remember what happened at the end of Jesus’ life?”
“You mean when they nailed Him on the cross?”
“Yes. And even before that do you remember when He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane and it was so painful that He bled from every pore?”
I told her I remembered that and also that they whipped Him and made fun of Him.
She then said, “You know, I don’t think that He liked doing any of those things. But He did it because He loved us and He knew that it was right. Did you know that He even asked Heavenly Father if there wasn’t another way?”
She paused, putting her hand on my shoulder. “So I figure that if He didn’t like doing hard things that were right, it’s OK if I don’t like doing hard things that are right. And it’s OK if you don’t like doing hard things, like being reverent in Sharing Time when you’re hot and tired.”
I noticed as she was talking that she kept putting her fingers on the side of her head. So I asked, “Is it hard for you today?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have a bad headache.”
I stood there for a moment, feeling very different than I had ever felt about Primary. I looked at Sister Eisen and said, “I don’t think I need to walk any farther. I can go back in now.”
She told me that she was glad, and we returned. Before we went in, she said, “You know, Dan, I really like you.”
I told her that most people did after they knew me.
She went to the front of the Primary room, and I sat down in my chair. After she sat down, she looked at me and smiled. Then she touched her fingers to both sides of her head, like Mom does when she has a headache, and winked.
Although my chair still felt hard, the room was still too hot, and Jimmy and Fred still kept trying to talk to me, I didn’t mind so much. I wondered as I watched Sister Eisen if Dad had been talking about her when he said that angels are all around us. I think I’ll tell him that I saw one last Sunday—and that she had a headache.

Jeremy Guthrie, here currently serving as mission president, shared: “As a 12-year-old deacon … [I felt] the Spirit testify to me [that] ‘this life is the time … to prepare to meet God.’2 The game plan is faith in God unto action [and] repentance through the Savior. … The playbook is found in the holy scriptures and through living prophets.”

Goal: To attend the temple every week.
“When the temple was being built, some of the stone was stuck in Turkey. We all fasted for the temple stone to arrive safely. Sure enough, it was soon located and shipped to Tucson. Now every time I see the stone in the temple, I am reminded of all the hard work and faith that it took to complete. It is so much more than a beautiful building—it’s a place of peace where I can feel God’s presence more than anywhere else.”