Gospel Story Finder

I witnessed a very interesting thing the other day. The General Authorities were in a meeting, and the presidency of the Relief Society were there with us. These able women stood in our council room and shared with us principles of welfare and of helping those who are in distress. Our stature as officers of this Church was not diminished by what they did. Our capacities to serve were increased.

I made this Friend Ship (Feb. 2015) with my mom. We talked about being a good friend. I said if someone at school was sad, I would invite them to play with me!

My father was our bishop, but he died before I received the priesthood. I remember so clearly being ordained a deacon. A new world opened up for me. I was now living on a higher plane. As I would hear people say, “You hold the priesthood,” it was not easy to fully comprehend. But with humble leaders, we began to understand that as deacons we had been given blessings and authority to do sacred things.
As quorum officers we accounted for all of our members and would see that they were all at church. We enjoyed being together. We helped the elderly and the widows. We cleaned the meetinghouse and raked the grounds. We made sure that the sacrament trays and sacrament cloths were clean and fresh. We were part of the Church, and the Church was part of us. We knew it; we felt it! We held the priesthood of God! Understanding leaders guided us and helped us broaden our vision and our ever-expanding role as young men; but more important, they helped prepare us to be called in our youth to be servants of our Savior. He needs every one of you young men. In fact, young men your age have served in many miraculous ways. Jesus taught and confounded the priests in the temple when he was only 12. With complete faith in the Lord, David, the young shepherd boy, met the Philistine giant, Goliath, on the battlefield. Joseph Smith at age 14 read in James: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, … and it shall be given him” (James 1:5). Later he said:
“Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man. … It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart . …
“I retired to the woods . …
“I kneeled down and began to offer up the desire of my heart to God” (JS—H 1:12, 14–15).
Thus began the events that led to the restoration of the Church of Jesus Christ, when God the Father and His Son appeared to the boy Joseph.

I first saw Karen Aydlotte at a multi-stake fireside at BYU. She was the speaker. She was smiling and joking and telling us that there was a good chance she might not live much longer, that she had cancer, an often incurable form of it.
Several weeks later I met Karen through a mutual friend. She was very open with her feelings. We talked a good deal about life and death. For me, for most of us, it is easy to put the reality of death into what Shakespeare aptly phrased as “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.” For Karen death was hard reality. She had to reconcile living with dying.

When it was time for the final softball game to determine which team from our stake would go on to regional play, the contest was between us and the neighboring ward. After a hard-fought game during which they heckled us relentlessly, they won. How disappointed we were! We had tried so hard and felt at that moment of defeat that all our practice, all our efforts, had been in vain.
Our misery abated slightly as one of the girls noticed Baur Dee and her husband Glen lifting a large tub containing two watermelons in ice from their car trunk. We hurried over to partake of our consolation prize. Before we could, however, Baur Dee suggested that we invite the winning team to share the watermelon with us. Protests arose immediately. Why should we share with those who had not only beaten us, but who had been so unkind about it?
The look of disappointment on Baur Dee’s face was obvious. As she turned to cut the melons, she said, “I’m leaving it up to you.” We stood silent for a moment, knowing what we should do but not wanting to do it.
Finally one of the girls spoke up, “Well, there’s Matthew 5:44 [Matt. 5:44]. I guess we’d better invite them.” We did so, and before long each one of us felt that sweet joy which comes when the hand of fellowship is extended, conflicts are resolved, and we know that we have done something good. It was an unforgettable lesson.

Jennifer Turley of Seattle, Washington, was one of two American students selected to attend the United World College of the Adriatic in Italy. The college is an international school working toward peace through world understanding.
Jennifer became involved in a rigorous academic program as well as taking advantage of the travel and learning opportunities. Before attending the Italy-based college, Jennifer graduated from high school a year early, was the recipient of an award for academic excellence from the National Honor Society, and was a commended National Merit Scholar.
Jennifer is a member of the Everett Fourth Ward, Everett Washington Stake.

There’s no way we could measure the great boost in strength that our members get from visits by Church leaders. Members came from all over Spain when President Gordon B. Hinckley of the First Presidency and Elder M. Russell Ballard of the Quorum of the Twelve visited there for a regional conference. Forty members even flew in from Las Palmas, in the Canary Islands. There was a great spiritual resurgence among Latter-day Saints.

I counted the days on my calendar. Where had summer gone? I could I hardly believe my first day of middle school was only one week away. I felt excited, glad, and scared to death—all at once.
As my friends and I began making plans for school, we each described the new outfits we had picked to wear on the first day, and debated if backpacks or book bags were the “in” thing this year. We joked about keeping our lockers organized, with each book in perfect class sequence.
Together, my friends and I completed a list of items we thought would be important to put into our lockers. A hair brush, a magnetic mirror, and a pencil box were some of the ideas.
Then Karen spoke up. “I’m going to put a picture of the Savior in my locker.” Everyone became silent. Suddenly the brush and mirror didn’t seem quite as important anymore.
When the first day of school finally came, my anxiety grew. I walked through the hallway to locker number 1290 and began turning the black knob to complete my combination.
I unloaded my new pink book bag and filled my locker with notebooks, pencils, and personal belongings. Then I unzipped a small pocket on the side of my bag to remove a three-by-five picture of the Savior. It was a picture I had received in church nearly a year ago. With a magnet, I carefully hung the photo. There it would stay as my continual reminder to always stick up for what I believe in and to “stand for truth and righteousness.”
I called to Karen, who had a locker just a few feet from mine, and motioned for her to come and see what I had done. She looked in my locker and smiled when she saw I had followed her example.
I often hear people talk about peer pressure and how damaging it can be. But when I look at the picture of the Savior hanging in my locker, and notice his picture in many of the lockers of classmates around me, I realize peer pressure can be positive as well as negative.
I can only imagine how much better this world would be if all the youth of the Church would truly take a stand for truth and righteousness. What a powerful group of peers that would make.

Amauri pushed the bicycle up the long hill. At the top was a small Catholic church with a little building behind where the padres lived. In back of this building was a little shack that Amauri’s family called home. “Mamãe (Mother)!” he called out when he neared his house, and his mother appeared at the door.
“Where have you been, Amauri?” she asked, her back still bent from the day’s work of cleaning in the tall office building downtown. Then she saw the bicycle. “What do you have there, Amauri?” she asked, and her eyes looked worried.
“A bicicleta (bicycle), Mamãe,” Amauri answered.
“Where did you get it?” his mother questioned again, and Amauri knew that she was afraid he had stolen it, because many of the poor people in their neighborhood sometimes stole things to get money to buy food. Amauri’s mother was grateful that her five children didn’t steal.
“A man gave it to me, Mother,” Amauri answered proudly. “I’m going to be a delivery boy! I’ll ride the bicycle from place to place, delivering lunches to the businessmen and groceries to the ladies in fine houses!”
“You mean you have a job?” And Amauri’s mother smiled with joy.
Amauri told her about how he had walked up to a man and said, “Do you need a boy to work for you?” The man had thought for a few moments and then invited him inside his store. They talked for a while, and he told Amauri that he would pay him fifty centavos an hour.
“How many hours will you work?” his mother asked.
“Eight hours every day,” Amauri answered. “That means I will get four cruzeiros a day or more than twenty cruzeiros a week. I can buy food for the family!”
Amauri hugged his mother and she hugged him back. “What a good nine-year-old son I have,” she said gratefully. “Now you are truly the man of the family. Ever since your father died I have been the only one earning money. Now you will help me buy beans and rice for our breakfast and dinner. Enough talking for now, son. Remember, the elders are coming tonight, and we must get the house ready.”
Amauri got water from the well, and his little sister Cecilia cooked the beans and rice for dinner. The other children made the two beds they all slept on, while Mother carefully swept the cold, hard-packed dirt floor.
When the missionaries came, they stood outside the door and clapped their hands together, because that is the way people announce themselves in Brazil. Cecilia ran to open the door.
“Boa noite, elderes (Good evening, elders),” she said. “Come in.”
The tall elders shook hands with everybody. Elder Samson was blond and showed many teeth when he smiled. Elder Bonner had red hair and freckles all over, even on his arms. Although they were Americans, they spoke Portuguese, but sometimes it was hard to understand them.
The elders and Amauri and his family sat on boxes around the table, and then the elders told them all about the commandments of God, including one that asked them to give the Church one-tenth of all the money they earned. Mother was thoughtful when the elders told her this, because she barely made enough money to feed the family. But then she smiled. “Of course,” she said. “That is why little Amauri got a job today. We can pay tithing to the Lord and still have enough to eat.”
Amauri felt very proud to tell the missionaries about his job. “Who knows?” Amauri said, “maybe someday I will deliver a lunch right to the building where my mother works.”
“But what about school?” asked Elder Samson.
“School is not for poor people,” said Amauri’s mother sadly. “We do not have the money to buy books.”
And then Amauri remembered something awful. His face turned white. “What’s wrong, Amauri?” the elders asked.
“I just remembered,” Amauri said. “I only have three days to learn how to ride the bicycle.”
“What?” asked Elder Bonner, surprised. “Nine years old and you don’t know how to ride a bicycle?”
Amauri shook his head. “We are too poor to have a bicycle. Now I will have to learn before Thursday. How can I learn that fast?”
Everyone looked worried now. Learning to ride a bicycle wasn’t easy.
Then Elder Bonner said he had an idea. “We will teach you how to ride!” he shouted, and Elder Samson nodded in agreement.
The next morning the missionaries came back. They could hardly wait to get Amauri out of bed and onto his bicycle.
It was harder than Amauri had thought it would be. He fell down again and again. Even on a grassy field it hurt to fall, but he kept thinking: The Lord got me this job so that my family can pay tithing. And I’m going to get back on that bicycle.
The next day Amauri rode for ten meters all by himself before the bicycle started to tip over, then he stopped it from falling by sticking out his foot. At the end of the riding lesson he told the elders, “It’s time for me to go home. And you’ll have to hurry—I’m going to ride this bicycle all the way back home. And I’m going to ride it very fast.”
Amauri got on the bicycle and pedaled as fast as his legs would go, the elders behind him shouting and cheering him on. When he arrived home, Cecilia and the other children ran out of the house laughing and clapping their hands.
“Como Deus me abencoe (How God is blessing me)!” he shouted to the elders when they came into the house. “First a job, and now you have helped me learn to ride a bicycle so I can do it well!”
The elders just laughed and shook his hand. And then the children hugged him in their excitement.
The next day was Thursday, and Amauri rode the bicycle all alone downtown to the store. He took the lunches and delivered them, and later took fresh meat to housewives and cabbages to restaurants. He was exhausted when nighttime came.
When he got home he tied the bicycle to a tree. Then he knelt beside it and said a prayer, thanking Heavenly Father for his help. When he was through he patted the bicycle seat.
“Oi, bicicleta (Hey, bicycle), que amigo você é (you and I are going to be good friends)!”

Emma sat at the big oak table surrounded by her family. It was the first of December.
“OK,” Dad said, “it’s time to discuss our individual Christmas projects. Who can tell me the rules?”
“We each do a project that doesn’t cost any money,” Ben said.
“It can’t be a material item,” Mom added.
“And most important of all, it has to bring the spirit of Christmas to someone,” Jane finished. “I’m going to baby-sit for Sister Wells so that she can get her Christmas baking done.”
Mom beamed. “An excellent project. How about you, Ben?”
“I think I’ll wrap presents for Project Merry Christmas. It’s a city program that collects gifts for the poor.”
Dad nodded. “Good plan, Son. As for me, I’ll be practicing my Ho Ho Hos, because I’m going to take the part of Santa in some local preschool plays.”
Mom eyed Dad’s tummy and winked. “It looks like you’ll need only one pillow this year. I’m going to play Christmas music at the Golden Days Nursing Home, and Kayla will help me rehearse by not crying—I hope. That leaves you, Emma.”
Emma squirmed. “I don’t know yet.”
Dad gave her a hug. “That’s all right,” he said. “But try to decide soon. Christmas comes quickly, and you shouldn’t do anything out of desperation. That wouldn’t mean as much.”
Emma tried and tried to think of something that she could do, but no good ideas came. If I were a teenager like Ben and Jane, I could do lots of cool projects, she thought. But what can a little kid do?
A week passed, and Emma still didn’t have a plan. She wanted to make someone happy by helping in some way, but her mind always drew a blank.
In church on Sunday, Emma noticed Sister Dugan interpreting for Brother Drake, who was deaf. Emma watched in wonder as Sister Dugan’s fingers flashed and danced, weaving invisible words out of thin air. She liked the hand motions and wished she knew what they meant. In an instant she had a plan.
For the next couple of weeks, Emma worked hard. Her mom took her to the library to check out books, then she practiced for hours with Sister Dugan.
On a clear, crisp December evening a few days before Christmas, Emma and her family drove to Brother Drake’s house. Before leaving the car, Emma asked her family to say a prayer with her. Then they all got out, bundled in winter coats and hats. Only Emma did not wear mittens. She flexed her fingers and watched her breath in the cold air. Dad rang the doorbell, and they were soon greeted by Brother Drake and his hearing dog.
“‘Silent night! Holy night!’” they sang. “‘All is calm, all is bright …’”* Emma’s fingers formed the words in American Sign Language—awkwardly at first but with growing confidence. When she signed the words heavenly peace, all fear left her, and her fingers felt warm and loose. She was no longer just moving them in memorized patterns, but really singing the story of the Savior’s birth. She felt this same peace as they sang “Away in a Manger.”
When they had finished, Brother Drake wiped a tear from his eye and beckoned the family inside. While they drank eggnog, he grabbed a pen and pad of paper. “Thank you for those beautiful songs,” he wrote. “I have never had Christmas carolers before. You have brought the spirit of Christmas into my home and given me an unforgettable gift.”
Emma’s heart felt as if it had grown a thousand times bigger. She said a silent prayer thanking Heavenly Father for the wonderful Christmas spirit. “Merry Christmas,” she signed carefully. “Merry Christmas and heavenly peace.”

One resident I personally interviewed during the pro bono project was a kindhearted 93-year-old woman named Lúcia. Grateful for our service, she jokingly exclaimed, “Marry me!”
Surprised, I responded: “Look over there at that beautiful young woman! She is my wife and the state prosecutor.”
She quickly fired back: “So what? She is young, pretty, and can easily get married again. All I have is you!”

Kevin’s special talent is noticing other people’s needs. Once, when he and Mom were leaving the resort, he spotted an elderly lady struggling to carry all of her luggage. Even though he was eager to get home, Kevin hurried over to her and offered to help. The lady felt so grateful that for the rest of her stay, she talked to Mom about the wonderful young man who had carried her bags.

“Sometimes I feel labeled,” Jason said softly. “Kids at school say I only get good grades because the teacher likes me. But the truth is, I work hard and do all my homework.”

In February 2022, the Alnwick Branch of the Church in Northumberland set up free weekly 4-hour sessions for anyone in the local community to come and charge their digital devices, play games, warm-up, eat soup, chat, and access the internet.
President James Perry recalls how the project began, “I felt we could utilise the building and our facilities much more. We have church on Sunday, youth during the week, and then some activities but the rest of the time it is not used. At the same time, our Relief Society president found out that warm hubs were being set up around the country but so far none in our town.”
The initiative first ran for three months, where the local newspaper helped spread the word before residents turned up to attend.
President Perry continues, “It has been wonderful to see people mingle together, especially after these last two years with Covid. We have had a real mix of people attending. Some have benefitted from coming here and not heating up at home. Others have been looking for company to meet new people. We have also had people who have come because they are willing to help others.
“We have also had people being reactivated through this. Some of our Ukrainian members can invite and speak to other Ukrainian people in the area, and the missionaries also use this opportunity to invite the people they speak to.
“Some [visitors are] curious, others just want to be informed. People also want to know what other things are on and then we tell them about our monthly walk, our monthly family history workshops, weekly youth nights and Sunday worship. And we have people attending those too, including on Sunday.
“It is very simple to run. Bring some soup and some buns and some board games. It does require some commitment, but members are committed and practical to do it.
“We are starting it again next month. The need is clearly there, and the cost-of-living situation has only got worse so more than ever there is a need for this.”
Truly, the members of Alnwick Branch can testify of the truthfulness of Elder Quentin L. Cook’s statement, “I have found that most significant spiritual experiences occur when we are helping and serving others and accomplishing the Lord’s purpose.”1

I had a special experience after reading a quote from an Apostle about simple but effective ways to gain a testimony. When I finished reading it, I immediately remembered a friend whose testimony was wavering. I quickly wrote her a letter and included the quotation.
I took the letter to her home, and I read it to her. At the end I bore my testimony. I can’t describe the powerful spirit that was present. My friend was surprised and thanked me for sharing the quote with her.
From that moment my friend started to change. She began to read the scriptures, pray more often, and attend church. Whenever we visited each other, we shared a spiritual thought and our testimonies. Today she is very active in the ward and serves as my counselor in the Laurel class presidency.Yésica Florencia Martín, Santos Lugares Ward, Argentina Buenos Aires West Stake

Someone once said to Mozart, “Would you teach me how to write symphonies?” Mozart said, “You are too young to write symphonies.” The young man said, “But you were fifteen years younger than I am when you began writing symphonies.” Mozart said, “But I didn’t have to ask anybody to teach me.” Only when we get some of these great qualities inside of ourselves are we in a position to make progress.

The first Latter-day Saint missionaries arrived in Nuku‘alofa, the capital city, in 1891 and started the Tongan District of the Samoan Mission. The first Tongan Mission was created in 1916, but in 1922 a law prohibited all but a few North Americans from getting visas. To meet this challenge, the mission president called Tongans to serve as missionaries in their own country. After two decades Tonga had built up a large core of faithful Melchizedek Priesthood leaders. So in 1940, when foreigners left Tonga because of World War II, strong local leadership was already in place. And an important missionary tool came on 7 June 1946, when the Book of Mormon was published in Tongan. In 1954 Tongan Saints began receiving a Church magazine in their own language.

A boy walking through a dense London fog was carrying a lighted lantern.
“Guide me back to my hotel,” said a voice from out of the fog, “and I’ll give you a shilling.”
“Yes, sir.”
And so the boy, holding his lantern high, started walking in the fog and soon reached the hotel. As he paused, not one man, but four stepped forward with a shilling. The other three had seen the light and followed without question. It is so with any who lead the way to truth and light.

When I was about nine, I wanted to grow a mustache. I thought I could do this by shaving my face every day. For several days I used my father’s razor to shave. One day my father saw me shaving. He warned me not to do it because I could cut myself.
I am sorry to say I disobeyed my dad. The next day I shaved again. As I was shaving, the razor slipped from my soapy fingers. It made a deep gash above my lip. I was pretty scared as I bandaged my lip. But I was even more afraid of what my father would say.
When he came home that night and saw my cut, he was surprised and worried. He asked how it happened.
“Well,” I said, “I was running down the sidewalk, and I fell on my face.”
I had lied! First I had disobeyed, and now I had been dishonest! That night I couldn’t sleep. It was late, but I had to tell Dad the truth. I found him in the living room.
“Dad, I lied to you,” I said. “I didn’t fall down. I cut myself shaving with the razor. I’m sorry.”
My dad was quiet for a moment. Then he gently said, “You did disobey, Son. That is not a good thing. But I’m proud that you decided to tell the truth.”
That lesson—and the actual scar—has stayed with me every day since then.

However, it wasn‘t until I had cancer that things seemed to change about the way I felt. As a result, I had to have my full leg amputated. My sister passed away while I was in hospital.
A year later I started to feel angry. A good friend, who is paralysed from the waist down, said it might be because I was mourning the loss of my leg. I was feeling sorry for myself. I had to pray for help to get over how I was feeling. I had a blessing which said I‘d been given this to help others. Since that blessing, four members of my Ward were diagnosed with cancer and others around the country have called to speak to me. I was able to be there for them.