Gospel Story Finder

As I was walking back from a Preach My Gospel activity with my group at Especially for Youth (EFY), I saw a man at a picnic table all by himself. I was walking back to my room, and I felt prompted to go talk to him. Shyly I went over there with my friends. We talked to him for just five minutes. It was such an amazing missionary experience to share a little bit about the gospel with someone.
The rest of the week we saw him every day! We just talked to him and shared whatever we had talked about that day in our classes with him. We ended up giving him a Book of Mormon that we had all written our testimonies in. A year later I learned that the man was baptized! I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to teach the gospel to him with the help of my friends.

Some youth face different but equally difficult challenges.
Exavier R., 15, has been raised by his mother. “I saw other people with fathers in their lives, but I never had one in my life.” While Exavier’s mother works to support their family, he helps take care of his two little sisters. He wakes up every morning and helps them get ready for the day. He takes them to school before heading to his own school. After school, he picks them up, takes them home, and helps them with whatever they need. That takes a lot of strength and maturity, but people around Exavier “think I’m weak. I’ve seen a lot of bad things and been through a lot of hard things in my life, and people don’t know the real me,” he says.
Exavier and his mother joined the Church when he was 14. When he was baptized, his Young Men leaders became like fathers to him. “They guide me in the right direction and help me make the right decision,” he says. Most importantly, Exavier learned that he has a Heavenly Father who believes in him and expects him to do his best every day.

John Taylor was also chosen early in life, and although he was a full ocean apart from the other Church leaders, the Lord was quietly working on him in such a way that he would eventually be brought into contact with the other apostles of the Church. When he was only sixteen years of age, John Taylor was moved upon in such a way that he spent many hours searching after the Lord, and the nearness of the Lord was often manifest to him. He wrote: “Often when alone, and sometimes in company, I heard sweet, soft, melodious music, as if performed by angelic or supernatural beings.” He saw, while still a small boy, an angel in the heavens with a trumpet to its mouth, sounding a message to the nations. (The significance of this vision should be evident to all members of the Church.) At seventeen he became a local preacher in the Methodist Church and one day, while traveling with a friend to a Methodist meeting, received a very strong impression that he was to go to America to preach. Nearly seven years later at age twenty-four, President Taylor embraced the Church at the hands of Parley P. Pratt, who had been called by special revelation to take the gospel to Toronto, Canada, where John Taylor was residing.

Originally from Fiji, Reena Naidu’s family moved to Sydney, Australia, when she was young.
She discovered her gift for art in high school when an assignment required her to submit a self-portrait. “At about the same time, I read a Church talk about developing our talents and I felt inspired to develop my artistic skills,” Reena says.
She followed that inspiration to the National Art School in Dalinghurst, Sydney, where she earned a master’s in fine arts. Today she is a manager for an art supplies company where she helps others select the right materials for their art projects.

Courage counts. This truth came to me in a most vivid and dramatic manner many years ago. I was serving as a bishop at the time. The general session of our stake conference was being held in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. Our stake presidency was to be reorganized. The Aaronic Priesthood, including members of bishoprics, were providing the music for the conference. As we concluded singing our first selection, President Joseph Fielding Smith, our conference visitor, stepped to the pulpit and read for sustaining approval the names of the new stake presidency. He then mentioned that Percy Fetzer, who became our new stake president, and John Burt, who became the first counselor—each of whom had been counselors in the previous presidency—had been made aware of their new callings before the conference began. However, he indicated that I, who had been called to be second counselor in the new presidency, had no previous knowledge of the calling and was hearing of it for the first time as my name was read for sustaining vote. He then announced, “If Brother Monson is willing to respond to this call, we will be pleased to hear from him now.”

As I stood at the pulpit and gazed out on that sea of faces, I remembered the song we had just sung. It pertained to the Word of Wisdom and was titled “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say No.” That day I selected as my acceptance theme “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say Yes.” The call for courage comes constantly to each of us—the courage to stand firm for our convictions, the courage to fulfill our responsibilities, the courage to honor our priesthood.

As a young boy, I wanted to have a paying job. My brother and sister and I started our own fish bait business. We put our stand on a busy street corner where fishermen could conveniently stop on their way to the many fishing spots up the canyon. We did not sell common variety fish bait like some of the other kids in the neighborhood; rather my father taught us that we were worm merchants. We distinguished ourselves from our competition by offering the liveliest worms at the best price. To keep the worms active we actually fed them coffee grounds that my dad brought home from the local drugstore. Our harvesting tactics were a closely guarded secret, and we had several prime spots for catching worms after nightfall. Our enterprise was so successful that it not only funded much of my education, but I still had $300 left of my earnings to buy a diamond ring for my wife when I got married.

I have always loved horses. I grew up riding them. My family owned a dairy ranch where we had a few horses. When I was seven years old we moved to the city. Because we didn’t have horses there, I rode them whenever I had the chance.
When I was young, my father would take me to church. He and I were the only ones in my family who went to church. But my father died when I was just 13 years old. I continued to go to church after his death, but I didn’t have a lot of friends to go to church with, so I usually walked alone.
I was walking to church one Sunday morning soon after my father died. I passed the house of my friend whose family owned some horses. I had been riding with them before, and we had so much fun. My friend came outside to tell me that her family was about to go ride their horses and wondered if I would like to come along.
Time seemed to stand still as I tried to decide what to do. I loved riding and wanted to go with them. But I could see the church building from where I stood. As I looked at that building, a voice seemed to say to me, “Marlene, if you choose to go horseback riding this day, you will be making a wrong choice. You can go to church even if your father is not here to take you.”
I knew in my heart that going riding would not be the right choice. At that moment I said to my friend, “Thanks for the offer, but I am going to church instead.”
I have never regretted that choice. It has turned out to be one of the most significant decisions I have made in my life. It’s the good choices we make that keep us on the straight and narrow path. From that moment until this day, I can count on one hand the number of times I have missed church.
Diligent church attendance is important to me, so important that wild horses can’t keep me away. I love to associate with my ward family and find joy in serving in my calling. I am so thankful for the blessings I have received from attending my meetings and from having the gospel in my life. I am grateful to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and for the guidance of the Holy Ghost.

A single man, Jamie, who also received a water tank, had moved to the valley from Canberra shortly before the fires. His home was destroyed. He, like many others, has never fully recovered emotionally from the fires and feels very much alone. The fact that people cared enough to donate a much-needed water tank and visit him to see how he was progressing had a positive impact on him.
Jamie is now building his own house on his property with whatever items of material he can find. From time-to-time, friends donate materials, but it is a slow process—he is doing it largely by himself, with the occasional help from professional friends. He is planning to position the water tank next to the new house once completed.

This year’s homecoming royalty at BYU is symbolic of the seventy countries represented at that school. The queen Michiko Nakamura is from Tokyo, Japan. Her attendants are Ruth Ann Brown, a Navajo Indian from Window Rock, Arizona, and Jana Rae Warren from Spanish Fork, Utah.
Michiko called her mother in Japan after being named queen. “We don’t have homecoming queens in Japan, so my mother didn’t even know what I was talking about. I told her to go to church and ask the American missionaries what it was.”
Michiko, a convert of seven years, will ultimately return to Japan to teach dance. “We don’t have modern dance over there, and it would be neat if I could pioneer in that field in Japan.”

“Andrew! The bus is here!” Nana called.
Andrew raced out the door. He waved goodbye to Nana, Papa, and his little sister, Amy. Amy was too little to go to school, so she stayed home with Nana and Papa.
Andrew liked school. He liked playing with his friends at recess. He liked his teacher, Ms. Kimball.
After morning recess, Ms. Kimball said, “Next week we are going to have Bring-a-Parent-to-School Day. When your parent comes, make sure they bring something from their job to show us. We’re excited to hear from them!”
Andrew’s face got hot. He didn’t have anything to say about his parents. He didn’t remember a lot about his mom. She left when he was little. And Andrew didn’t even know his dad.
Andrew listened as other kids talked about their moms and dads. Tony’s mom was a firefighter, and Jessica’s dad worked at the zoo. Everyone hoped her dad would bring a monkey or sloth to class!
“What about your parents?” Tony asked Andrew.
Andrew looked at his feet. He shrugged. “I live with my grandparents.”
Andrew loved Nana and Papa, but they didn’t have cool jobs. Nana sold blankets and baby clothes. Papa drove a food truck. Andrew wasn’t so sure about Bring-a-Parent-to-School Day.
That night Andrew read the first chapter of the Book of Mormon: “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents …” (1 Nephi 1:1).
I don’t live with my parents, Andrew thought. I just live with Nana and Papa.
Just then, Amy walked into Andrew’s room, hugging a fuzzy blanket. She held it up for Andrew to see. “Nana made!”
“Yeah, Nana made that blanket for you.” Andrew smiled a little.
He thought about all the nice things Nana did for him—making breakfast before school, helping with homework, playing games with him and Amy. Nana was a lot like a mom.
Then Andrew thought about Papa. Papa read stories to Andrew every night. He helped with homework too. He also taught Andrew how to ride a bike. Papa was a lot like a dad.
Andrew’s smile got bigger. He was really grateful for Nana and Papa. He still felt nervous about bringing a grandparent to school. But it was going to be OK. I may not have goodly parents, he thought, but I have goodly grandparents, and that’s something special.
On Bring-a-Parent-to-School Day, Andrew sat with Papa in the back of the class and listened to the other kids’ parents. Tony’s mom brought her firefighter uniform. She let everyone try on her helmet. Jessica’s dad brought a turtle from the zoo.
“Your turn, Andrew,” Ms. Kimball said.
Andrew walked to the front of the class with Papa. He took a deep breath and said, “My Papa drives a food truck. He meets lots of people, and he works really hard.”
Andrew looked up and saw Papa smiling. Then Papa talked about driving his truck. He also gave everyone a treat from his work! The kids in Andrew’s class asked Papa lots of questions about his job.
Andrew was happy to have Papa with him. He and Papa and Nana and Amy were a family—and they were a goodly one.

Would you permit me to relate just one personal experience. When I was fourteen years old, our troop went to Big Cottonwood Canyon on a Scout outing. After setting up camp, our leader said to me, “Monson, you like to fish. I’m giving you two fishing flies—a black gnat and a white miller. Now you catch enough fish to feed this troop for the next three days, and I’ll pick all of you up on Saturday.” He departed. I never questioned his charge. I knew if I did my part I’d catch the fish and feed the troop. And I did. I was a man before I realized it just isn’t proper for the Scoutmaster to bail out on the boys. But what a learning experience it was for us.

I noted that we also bear our testimonies by our lives. In World War II I was stationed at an army camp in Pennsylvania. We lived in a little ward in which our stake patriarch also lived. His name was William G. Stoops. Brother Stoops worked at a machine shop in the little town of Waynesboro, Pennsylvania. Everyone called him “Pappy.” He was a kindly, gentle, wonderful, exemplary member of the Church. All who met him honored and admired him. One time a nonmember with whom he worked said something like this: “I don’t know much about the Mormon church. I have never met with the missionaries, and I have never studied the doctrine. I have never been to one of their services, but I know Pappy Stoops; and if the Church produces men like Pappy Stoops, it has to have much good in it.” We never know the power of our own example for either good or bad.

Other experiences I had as a boy taught me that the Holy Ghost can help us stay close to Heavenly Father. I had a friend named Ralph who was a few months older than I was. We went to school in a one-room redbrick schoolhouse, and Ralph and I would walk there together. One day we talked about his recent baptism and confirmation. He told me how clean he felt when he was baptized. I asked him what it was like to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, and he said, “It’s like a voice that whispers in your ear, teaching you the truth.” I never forgot Ralph’s explanation. I wanted to have what my friend had.

Later, after I was baptized and confirmed, I attended a banquet where President George Albert Smith was invited to speak. After the banquet, my dad and I stood in a long line to shake President Smith’s hand. When my turn came, President Smith looked down at me, took my hand, and spoke to me. I don’t remember what he said, but I will never forget how I felt. The Holy Ghost testified to me that he was a prophet of God.

I am grateful for the Holy Ghost. When we obey the commandments, the Holy Ghost dwells with us. He purifies us and teaches us the truth, and this helps us stay close to our Heavenly Father.

I am reminded of an article I read some years ago about a group of men who had gone to the jungles to capture monkeys. They tried a number of different things to catch the monkeys, including nets. But finding that the nets could injure such small creatures, they finally came upon an ingenious solution. They built a large number of small boxes, and in the top of each, they bored a hole just large enough for a monkey to get his hand into. They then set these boxes out under the trees and in each one they put a nut that the monkeys were particularly fond of.
When the men left, the monkeys began to come down from the trees and examine the boxes. Finding that there were nuts to be had, they reached into the boxes to get them. But when a monkey would try to withdraw his hand with the nut, he could not get his hand out of the box because his little fist, with the nut inside, was now too large.
At about this time, the men would come out of the underbrush and converge on the monkeys. And here is the curious thing: When the monkeys saw the men coming, they would shriek and scramble about with the thought of escaping; but as easy as it would have been, they would not let go of the nut so that they could withdraw their hands from the boxes and thus escape. The men captured them easily.
And so it often seems to be with people, having such a firm grasp on things of the world—that which is telestial—that no amount of urging and no degree of emergency can persuade them to let go in favor of that which is celestial. Satan gets them in his grip easily. If we insist on spending all our time and resources building up for ourselves a worldly kingdom, that is exactly what we will inherit.

When youth from one ward in Birmingham, England, needed to raise money in order to attend stake youth camps, they knew just what to do: it was time to roll up their sleeves and teach nunchaku lessons. And origami lessons. Oh, and some one-on-one rugby training sessions for good measure.
After leaders counseled with the bishop and obtained his approval, ward members pulled together to support the youth in their efforts by holding a ward auction for promised services. At the auction, people could bid on all manner of “I owe you”-type services. The youth donations included manicures, basketball lessons, shoe shining, gardening help, babysitting time, ukulele lessons, and more.
The adults pitched in as well. Their donations ranged from a personal tour of a prison by the prison governor to chauffeur services for a day and even to a tutorial from the bishop on how to buy and sell on eBay. In the end, the ward raised enough money for the youth to attend the camps, all while having fun and getting to know one another by serving in creative ways.

Dad made each of us kids feel special. He loved us and would forgive easily. He did his best to make sure that each of us was happy, and he made it clear that he wanted the best for us. I loved him so much.
When I was in sixth grade, my dad died in a car accident. My family and I were totally devastated. There was a big hole in our family. Dad was the one I leaned on, the one I went to if I was having problems. Instead of seeking help, I let the anger and hurt stay. I finally decided it was God’s fault. I stopped reading my scriptures and saying prayers. I went to church only because Mom wanted me to. I tried to stay far away from my Heavenly Father.
Then I went to Young Women camp for the first time. I liked meeting new friends, but I still didn’t read my scriptures. On the last night, we had a testimony meeting. I felt something I hadn’t in a long time: the Spirit. I admired the girls who got up and bore their testimonies, but I stayed seated because I thought I didn’t have one. All of a sudden I felt like I had to get up. I opened my mouth, wondering what to say. So I said I was glad for Young Women camp. Then I found myself saying that I knew Jesus Christ died for me and that my Heavenly Father loved me and that the Church was true.
I was filled with a remarkable peace. Thanks to this experience I can say that I know I will see my dad again because of the Savior’s Atonement and Resurrection.

After a grueling confinement throughout the winter in Liberty Jail, the Prophet Joseph and his fellow Latter-day Saint prisoners were granted a change of venue for trial. Apparently to spare the state from the publicity of a trial, the guards allowed their prisoners to escape while en route to the new venue. They crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois on April 22, 1839, where they joined the Saints from Missouri, who had received a sympathetic reception from the citizens of Quincy, Illinois. That same day the Prophet hired James Mulholland to again keep a journal for him. From April to October 1839, Brother Mulholland recorded the Prophet’s activities in 15 pages of a handmade pamphlet titled “Minute Book.”

Five years later—I was 27 by then—I came back to my father’s home for a time. My father was ward mission leader, and the sister missionaries were teaching someone else in my home. I overheard them teaching about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith, and I decided to pray about it. It made sense in my mind that if Joseph Smith was a prophet, then the Book of Mormon is true and the Church is true.
That night I began to read the history of Joseph Smith and of his vision in the Sacred Grove. Then I stopped, and I prayed to the Lord. I spent the whole night in this manner, reading and praying about each paragraph. It took me 14 hours. Something happened to me when I began to ponder. It seemed that I was in the grove with Joseph. It was a vivid and real experience. It seemed I could see what happened. When I finished the prayer the next morning, I knew Joseph Smith was a prophet.
I went immediately to find the missionaries. At noon, when the sister missionaries came home for lunch, I was sitting in front of their door waiting for them. I asked them to teach me the discussions. After they taught me the seven discussions in a short period of time, I was baptized and confirmed into the Church.

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

Ever since he was a little boy, David Burnell dreamed of serving his country in the military. So shortly after he returned from serving the Lord in the Canada Halifax Mission, David joined the U.S. Air Force. Now he’s not only a staff sergeant, he’s also a communications and computer specialist at Ellsworth Air Force Base in South Dakota.
The military has become an alternate route to education for many people. There are opportunities to receive training and college credit in several fields, including the ones David chose.
“I had a hard time visualizing success in going to school and being married and working all at the same time,” David said. “It scared me, so I came in the service, hoping at the same time to serve my country and maybe obtain a little bit of education. It turned out that I’ve obtained a lot.” With the help of his military training, he is close to a bachelor’s degree in the management of computer information systems at Park College in Missouri.
In high school, David was an avid pole vaulter, wrestler, and football player with a 3.3 grade point average. He took a few college prep classes and even registered twice at a junior college, but never attended. He lost his motivation when he had trouble getting the classes he wanted.
Thanks to a patriotic father, the military had always been in David’s mind. He did a summer reserve program with the Marines when he was 17 and liked it, so after his mission he decided to try the service full-time.
But life in the service can also bring unexpected challenges, like learning to deal with a new way of life and being away from your family.
“Sometimes the life-style can make you hard or callous,” David says. “It could desensitize you if you don’t study your scriptures and pray frequently and do all those things that we’re commanded to do.”
Interested? Shop around until you find the program or military school you want, and don’t sign anything until you know what you’re getting. You may have to wait a while to get into the right program, but it will be worth it. Also, know how useful it will be after you leave the service. Some training will help you get a job in the civilian world and some won’t.
“I would recommend people grabbing as much education as they can prior to coming in the military,” David says. “They would have a wider span of knowledge where they could make a better decision. Sometimes when you come in right out of school or right off a mission and you haven’t gone to school, you don’t really have the opportunity to see a whole lot of different options.”