Gospel Story Finder

President McKay’s bearing, nobility, and dignity and his love of the Savior he served were evidenced in every word he spoke and in everything he did. But what he had become through his commitment to the Savior was evident even when he sat peacefully and said nothing. The following incident is told by a man who met President McKay on his return from one of his visits to Europe:
“I remember being in New York when President McKay returned from Europe. Arrangements had been made for pictures to be taken, but the regular photographer was unable to go, so in desperation the United Press picked their crime photographer—a man accustomed to the toughest type of work in New York. He went to the airport, stayed there two hours, and returned later from the dark room with a tremendous sheaf of pictures. He was supposed to take only two. His boss immediately chided him: ‘What in the world are you wasting your time and all those photographic supplies for?’
“The photographer replied very curtly, saying he would gladly pay for the extra materials, and they could even dock him for the extra time he took. It was obvious that he was very touchy about it. Several hours later the vice-president called him to his office, wanting to learn what had happened. The crime photographer said, ‘When I was a little boy, my mother used to read to me out of the Old Testament, and all my life I have wondered what a prophet of God must really look like. Well, today I found one.’”

The teens from the different wards in the Ipswich stake enjoy being around each other. They really like going to youth conferences—or conventions as they are sometimes called—where something as simple as singing together can bring the Spirit. Rebecca Fagg remembers attending her first youth convention as a 14-year-old. “I was struggling a bit and finding attending church to be quite a lot of effort. Then I went to the youth convention. The power of all the youth together made me realize how great it is to be able to go to meetings like that. When we sang, I was overwhelmed by the Spirit. I just burst into tears.”

The total love and trust of children has been an amazing sustaining power against temptation in my life. I remember vividly years ago when our oldest son Jeffrey sat on my lap during a stake conference in which President Kimball addressed the congregation. During President Kimball's address, I leaned down and whispered in Jeffrey's ear, "Jeff, you are listening to a true prophet of God. Not only that but he is a very good man."

Jeff looked up at me with his earnest little face and said, "Daddy, do you think he's better than you are?"

I was stunned by his words and tears came into my eyes. Immediately I made a promise to Heavenly Father that I would never betray this little boy's trust. Certainly I was not equal with the prophet, but in the eyes of my son he saw me having the same stature. Most children see their parents longingly with those same eyes. To betray a child who has that kind of faith is to commit deep sin.

For the last few years, I knew that God was prompting me to step away from social media. I knew that breaks from social media were great for me, but I also knew that I enjoyed the community that I found there. I didn’t know how to reconcile these two things; I just knew that something had to change.
I read a book that caused me to ponder the question, “How much time on social media is the right amount to provide the benefit of the community, without all the negative influences?” For me, the answer to this question was about 20 minutes … a month. I set a goal to make this happen, and with the help of the Lord, it was easier than I thought. The thing I didn’t expect was how much this change would strengthen my relationship with my Savior. I came to better feel the love that the Savior has for me; I have come to understand more clearly the plan He has for me; and I have come to see the needs of the people around me more clearly.
I have always known that I am a child of God and that He loves me. I have felt the love of my Savior during difficult times in my life. But too often I was letting social media dictate how I saw and thought of myself. As much as I tried to convince myself that the idealistic images on social media didn’t affect me, it turns out they did. Decreasing my time on social media allowed me the mental peace and quiet that I needed to hear the Savior telling me how He felt about me. I didn’t realize how much I had missed hearing His voice until I created more space for Him to be there.
I have always believed in the plan of salvation. I know that Jesus Christ is central to that plan. But I also believe that Heavenly Father has a plan for each of us individually. Larry M. Gibson, former First Counselor in the Young Men General Presidency, taught, “I know that Heavenly Father is concerned about each of us individually and has a personal plan for us to achieve our eternal destiny.”1
I spent a lot of time scrolling to try and figure out what my purpose was. Being on social media gave me a front row seat to all the creative, wonderful things people were doing. I learned a lot from these people, but I spent a lot more time seeking than doing. Since stepping away from social media, I have felt guided to know specifically what Heavenly Father would have me do. Many of these things have been surprising and different from what I thought they would be, but they have made my life richer and more abundant.
The Savior came so that we might have life and that we might have it more abundantly (see John 10:10). I’m grateful for the nudges that the Holy Ghost gives to us to help us have a more abundant life.
The Savior saw those who escaped others’ notice. I love reading stories about Him ministering to such people and teaching them their worth. Spending too much time on social media hindered me from really seeing people in my own life, including my family. I realized that if my children weren’t feeling seen by me, then they would soon be looking to outside sources to validate their worth.
I have been amazed at the love that I have for my children as I have been more present with them. I have loved my role as a mother more this last year than ever before. I have gotten to know neighbors and have been more active in my community. My opportunities for service have increased. I thought that social media was helping me to be more aware, but in reality I wasn’t living in the moment enough to really see the needs of those around me.
Decreasing my social media use seemed like a small and simple thing, but it has allowed me to greatly increase my faith and improve my relationship with my Savior. I know that Heavenly Father loves us, has a plan for us, and has children who need to feel seen by us too.
The author lives in New York, USA.

HI! My name is Brittany Scott. I want to tell you about Richie Tanner, a special member of our Primary class. What makes Richie special? Well, he’s developmentally delayed, or what some people call mentally handicapped. He looks like most ten-year-old boys, but he acts younger—like maybe a five-year-old. He doesn’t speak very clearly yet, and it takes him longer to learn things.
Richie and I are in the Valiant B class in the Monument Park Ninth Ward, Salt Lake Monument Park Stake. There are five children in our class: Steven Jones, Marcus Foulger, Michael Knudson, Richie, and me. Our teacher is Janet Fawcett. She’s great! She always tells Richie what a good job he’s doing when he listens quietly to the lessons. Sister Fawcett calls on Richie to say prayers and to answer questions. She treats him like everyone else, and she tries to help Richie learn the gospel, just as she helps us.
Richie hasn’t always been able to sit through a lesson. So our Primary has tried different ways to help him. He used to have a special teacher, Sister Neva Clayton, just for him. She would sit with Richie in our class and take him out in the hall if he got noisy or disrupted the class in some other way. But now Richie can sit in class all by himself, just like everyone else!
I’ve seen Richie make good progress: he talks better, he pays attention longer, and he sings in Primary programs. I hope that someday Richie will be able to give a talk by himself.
Richie’s brothers, Michael and Russell, and his sister, Anne, help him come to Primary. He really likes Primary, and he likes to be with all the Primary children because they let him know that he belongs there. Richie adds a lot to our Primary, and he always listens to the other children when they give their talks. He sets a good example for all of us.
Sometimes I wish that I could be more like Richie, because he’s so gentle, friendly, honest, appreciative, and sincere. Richie shows his love in special ways. He’s my friend! I hope that Richie thinks of me as a true friend too. Richie is one of the neatest boys I know!

Now, don’t second-guess the Lord’s anointed servants. Sometimes we get the idea that the bishop just doesn’t recognize our ability or he wouldn’t call us to such menial tasks. I had missionaries who wondered sometimes about my transfers. I might move them from Jacksonville, Florida, where there were 750,000 people (which they figured was commensurate with their ability) to the small town of Bristol, Florida, where there were less than 5,000. I got a letter from a missionary who got such a transfer one day. He said, “President, is this inspiration or desperation?”

I learned a verse that I think depicts the attitude that we must cultivate if we’re going to accomplish the work the Lord has given us to do, for it’s a mountainous task:
“Where shall I serve today?” I said, And my love flowed warm and free. Then he pointed me out a little spot and said, “There, tend that for me.”
I said, “Oh no, not that, Why, no one would ever see— No matter how well my work was done— Not that little spot for me.”
And the words he spoke, they were not stern, He answered me tenderly, “Little one, search that heart of thine, Art thou serving them or me? Nazareth was just a little spot And so was Galilee.”

You see, there are no small, small spots in the kingdom of God. There are no small jobs in the kingdom.

Yves also found a way to help several of his friends who wanted to share with each other what they were learning in the scriptures. They were attending church and seminary or institute, speaking when assigned and participating in lessons. But they wanted to talk with each other, youth to youth. So once a week they started reading the Book of Mormon together for about half an hour, and they started inviting others, especially some youth who were less active, to join them. Now they’ve been reading together for months, sometimes at one person’s house, sometimes at another’s.
“It started with my friends Larry Roseval, who’s in the Wanica Branch, and Saffira Zeegelaar from my branch. But now there are eight of us,” Yves says. “We read a chapter, talk about it, bear our testimony about it, and share something we learned during the week.”

Thousands of experiences show that we can pray and have our prayers answered. Some of the choicest involve young children. In the biography of President Spencer W. Kimball we read:
“Again and again Spencer watched his parents take their problems to the Lord. One day when Spencer was five and out doing his chores, little one-year-old Fannie wandered from the house and was lost. No one could find her. Clare, sixteen, said, ‘Ma, if we pray, the Lord will direct us to Fannie.’ So the mother and children prayed. Immediately after the prayer Gordon walked to the very spot where Fannie was fast asleep in a large box behind the chicken coop. ‘We thanked our Heavenly Father over and over,’ Olive recorded in her journal” (in Edward L. Kimball and Andrew E. Kimball, Jr., Spencer W. Kimball [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1977], p. 31).

Besides sprucing up Main Street, washing cars, tidying the cemetery, spreading gravel at the train depot, and chopping weeds at a main intersection on the highway into town, the youth painted the city’s historic log church, landscaped its grounds, and polished the benches and the organ inside.
“I thought that was neat,” said Daphne Motto, 17. “It didn’t matter that it’s not an LDS church. It’s like we were saying, we’re all brothers and sisters and we need to help each other.”

More than once I have repeated an experience I had in getting my portrait painted.
In the temple on the fourth floor is the room of the Council of the Twelve Apostles with large chairs in a semicircle. Here important meetings of that body are held. Around its walls are portraits of the Brethren. When I came to this service, I looked upon them with admiration and affection, for these were truly great men with whom I was associated.
Sometime later authorization was given by the First Presidency of the Church for my portrait to be added to the others.
Lee Greene Richards was selected as the artist, and we began immediately. I sat on a chair on an elevated platform in his studio and tried very hard to look handsome, like some of the other brethren. With paints, brushes, and palette ready, the artist scrutinized my features and daubed on the canvas alternately. I returned many times to the studio. After weeks the portrait was exhibited to the First Presidency and later to my wife and daughter.
It did not pass, and I was to submit to a redoing.
The angle was changed, the hours—many of them—were spent, and finally the portrait was near completion. This particular day was a busy one like most others. I suppose I was daydreaming, and quite detached from this world. Apparently he had difficulty translating my faraway gaze onto the canvas. I saw the artist lay down his palette and paints, fold his arms, and look straight at me, and I was shocked out of my dreaming by the abrupt question: “Brother Kimball, have you ever been to heaven?”
My answer seemed to be a shock of equal magnitude to him as I said without hesitation: “Why, yes, Brother Richards, certainly. I had a glimpse of heaven just before coming to your studio.” I saw him assume a relaxed position and look intently at me, with wonder in his eyes. I continued:
“Do you believe in heaven, Brother Artist?” I asked. “Yes, that is it. Heaven is a place, but also a condition; it is home and family. It is understanding and kindness. It is interdependence and selfless activity. It is quiet, sane living; personal sacrifice, genuine hospitality, wholesome concern for others. It is living the commandments of God without ostentation or hypocrisy. It is selflessness. It is all about us. We need only to be able to recognize it as we find it and enjoy it. Yes, my dear brother, I’ve had many glimpses of heaven.”
I straightened up in my chair and posed again. The artist picked up his palette and brushes and paints, did some touching up of the portrait, and sighed contentedly as he said, “It is completed.”
In due time it was placed with those of others of the Brethren in the Council of the Twelve room on the fourth floor of the Salt Lake Temple, where it hangs to this day.

Isaac bounced up and down in his seat. He looked out the car window. They were going to visit Grandma and Grandpa. They were going to see something else special too.
“When will we see the new temple?” Isaac asked Mom.
“Tomorrow,” she said.
Isaac smiled.
Finally Isaac and his family were at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
The next morning, Isaac got dressed in his Sunday clothes. It felt funny to wear his tie in the middle of the week. Isaac ate breakfast with his family. Then they drove to the temple open house. They were going to see inside the new temple before it was dedicated.
“I see the temple!” Isaac said. He pointed to the white building with the angel Moroni on top.
There was a Church building next to the temple. Isaac and his family went there first. They watched a video. Someone helped put white covers over their shoes.
Finally it was time to go inside the temple! Isaac walked through the temple doors. His heart felt happy.
Isaac saw lots of paintings on the walls. Some paintings showed people praying. Some paintings showed beautiful plants and animals.
Then Isaac saw a painting he liked best of all. It was a painting of Jesus! Jesus was standing with His arms stretched out.
“It looks like Jesus is opening His arms to me,” Isaac whispered to Dad.
“Jesus always has His arms open for you,” Dad whispered back. “He loves each of us.”
Isaac had a good feeling in his heart. He imagined walking next to Jesus in the temple. He imagined Jesus giving him a hug.
Jesus loves Isaac. And Isaac loves Jesus too!

Portimao is the site of the first LDS chapel constructed in Portugal. The city also has its pioneer members, like the family of Filomena Simao. Sister Simao was a teenager when her family heard the gospel. “I could feel the Spirit so strongly” when the missionaries were in their home, she says. She readily accepted the principle of modern revelation, because she knew a loving Heavenly Father would provide the truth to his children in all time periods.
There was some opposition from a few of her peers after she was baptized, but she retained many friendships by continuing to love others whether they accepted the gospel or not. Later, a full-time mission in England provided her with a well of spiritual experiences from which she still draws.

Marlan James Coe, 15, of the Las Vegas 36th Ward, Las Vegas Nevada Stake, was chosen to represent the Boy Scouts of America as the outstanding Scout in his region. Based on his outstanding achievements as a Scout, he was named the western regional winner. Marlan then went on to compete with five other Scouts from across the United States vying for the title of Scout National Youth Representative. After flying to Chicago for interviews, he was named runner-up to the national representative. That’s quite an achievement!

Although Olivia is a fictional character, Lettice Rushton was a real person. Mother of ten children, and blind from cataracts five years before she was baptized, she was one of thousands of British converts who listened eagerly to the missionaries and immigrated with their families to join the Saints in Nauvoo from 1840–1843.
The Prophet Joseph Smith recorded that on December 25, 1843, Lettice Rushton, a recent widow, along with her family and neighbors, appeared under his window at one o’clock on Christmas morning and began singing, “which caused a thrill of pleasure to run through my soul.” The music so moved him that he thanked Heavenly Father for their visit and blessed them in the name of the Lord.
(See History of the Church, volume VI, page 134.)

Vacations are usually for relaxing and enjoying a few days off, but I did not find that solace on my vacation. Every day I felt sad, and it continued after returning home. I felt lost, became lazy, felt a lack of self-esteem, and there was an emotional wear and tear constantly weighing on me. I was drifting away from Heavenly Father and sinking into my own doubts. I am Yonal. I am sixteen years old, and I live in Verón in the Dominican Republic.
Life can be difficult, but when people go through depression, they often have no idea why or what event caused these feelings in their life. I fall in this category.
I love music, and the words from the hymn, “Where can I Turn for Peace”1 felt very familiar to me. However, it is important to sing that entire song, for in it we receive direction. I was blessed with the knowledge of the gospel, and I did indeed find “love without end” that came from the Lord through my bishop’s guidance. I shared my feelings with him, and he led me to many scriptures that helped me understand my situation. In those scriptures, I was able to see my life through the Savior’s perspective.
One night, I slipped again into discouraging thoughts, but then I remembered this verse in Doctrine and Covenants 25:12, “The song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.”
Through this scripture, I felt that developing my singing talent would be my song of righteousness unto Him. I felt building that talent would be a blessing to myself and to others. Many artists write songs about how they feel, so I found a notebook and started writing my feelings and after several days I felt peace in my soul. I had my dear friend, Enoch Mirabal, assist with the final touches to my song. I am not sure where that song will go but it allowed me to release my frustration and to move forward.
I am now more aware of songs that lift my spirit and I thank Heavenly Father for opening my eyes to the talents I have. If I improve my musical talents, they will continue to set me, and possibly others, free from their own challenges.
I learned we will be challenged in this life, we are not alone, we are to grow and share the talents that we have to help all of God’s children, and as we do, we will receive blessings upon our head.

When I was 17 years old, I faced heavy peer pressure at my high school. The friends that I did have didn’t share my values. My friends and I participated in many appropriate activities together like playing basketball or football. But they also drank alcohol and smoked—two activities I didn’t do with them.
One day a group of us was outside of our school studying for a test we would take later that day. With me were two of my closest friends, Juan and Francisco (names have been changed). At one point, someone got out lighters and cigarettes. I thought my friends had gotten bored with studying and had forgotten I was there. I learned I was wrong when they turned to me and said, “Now is the time for Hugo to learn how to smoke.”
Before I even had the chance to react, Juan and Francisco leapt toward me and took me by the arms, one on each side. They held my arms down as someone pressed a cigarette between my lips. My body immediately rejected this, and I spit the cigarette on the ground, far from me. Soon after, I felt the blow of a clenched fist squarely connect with my cheekbone. They threatened me, saying, “We’re going to light the cigarette again, and you’re going to learn to take the smoke. Don’t throw it on the ground. If you do, it’s not going to go well.”
In that moment, I knew I was in trouble. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer asking for some type of help. As soon as I finished my prayer, our teacher’s car pulled up and parked near us. Our teacher got out of the car and asked us what we were doing. My friends released me. “We’re getting ready for the test,” they assured the teacher. We went into the school and took the test, and the situation ended.

We were blessed to serve as mission leaders in Guayaquil, Ecuador, with a temple in our mission boundaries. Many of our missionaries came to us from places where temples were not accessible. Some had received their endowment while attending the MTC and, in many cases, had only attended the temple once or twice. Knowing the challenges of life, a mission, and missionary work, we knew the importance that temple covenants would have in the life of our missionaries. Like the pioneers of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints crossing the plains, our missionaries needed the fire of the covenant burning within them.

Because of this, Sister Riggins, myself, and our mission leaders decided that we would start each of our zone conferences in the temple. The temple president set us apart as ordinance workers, and we led each session at 6:00 a.m. We would start our training at each zone conference by studying the available scriptures and words of the prophets concerning the temple. It was a remarkable experience!

In my life I have had opportunity to forgive and also to ask for forgiveness. What I have learned is when we are in a state of exacting justice, we cannot be glad.

Many years ago an injustice occurred in my life. After time and counseling with my bishop as well as professional counselors, I made the decision that I must let this be set aside and I must continue with my life. Many years later, forgiveness came in an unexpected way. As I reflect on it now, it is nice to know that I didn’t spend years feeling hateful and angry. Instead, I was able to accomplish good things without constantly reflecting on the injustice.

I was once called to the Relief Society presidency of my young single adult ward. I was excited to start. But after a few months, I felt discouraged. I couldn’t see any spiritual growth in those I was trying to minister to. My efforts to visit and befriend seemed to fall flat.

One Sunday, I felt like I was missing the spiritual gifts that help someone be good at ministering. My prayer during the sacrament that day was to feel assurance that I was capable of my calling. I felt impressed to ask for a priesthood blessing.

I met with my bishop, and as he laid his hands on my head, one of the first things he said to me was, “Heavenly Father appreciates the kindness you show to others.”

The Spirit washed over me, and I felt assured that the Lord was pleased with my efforts. I felt I did have a portion of the gifts needed to minister lovingly. I had just been measuring my failures rather than my successes.

The first island reached by the ship was Tubuai in 1844. The people there showed the missionaries kindness and hospitality, and when some of the people pleaded with the elders to stay, Addison Pratt left the ship to teach them. Serving alone there for many months, struggling to learn the Polynesian language, he baptized 60 out of a population of 200 and organized the first branch of the Church in the South Pacific. To this day, the Latter-day Saint community on Tubuai is a strong one.