Gospel Story Finder

I started to pay my tithing when I was very young. Sometimes I earned only ten cents. But I always paid my tithing, and I know that I have always received blessings for it. Heavenly Father always provided me with what I needed, even when I was a little boy. If I needed money, a neighbor asked me to mow their lawn. Or someone bought radishes from me in the summertime. I learned at a very early age that tithing is a correct principle and that blessings come when we are obedient to that principle.

The Holy Ghost inspires a dying man to serve in his calling and allows him to feel his bishop’s heavy load.

Ronald A. Rasband’s daughter and son-in-law overcome their fear of bringing children into the world.

Daniel Meets a Lion This faith-promoting LDS story is about a modern Daniel whose “lion” is a bully. Besides reading about what Daniel does, you can sing the song, make the doorknob hanger at the back, and color all the pictures.Cleona D. Morgan5–7 years

The first principle is to have a feeling of gratitude to Heavenly Father during the sacrament for the Atonement of His Son. The following story is told about passing the sacrament:
“The sacrament never really meant much to me until the Sunday I was ordained a deacon. That afternoon I passed the sacrament for the first time. Prior to the meeting, one of the deacons warned me, ‘Look out for Brother Schmidt. You may have to wake him up!’ Finally the time came for me to participate in the passing of the sacrament. I handled the first six rows quite well. Children and adults partook of the bread with no noticeable thought or problem. Then I got to row seven, the row where Brother Schmidt always sat. But I was surprised. Instead of being asleep he was wide awake. Unlike many of the others I had served, he took the bread with what seemed to be great thought and reverence.
“A few minutes later I found myself again approaching row seven with the water. This time my friend was right. Brother Schmidt sat with his head bowed and his big German eyes shut. He was evidently sound asleep. What could I do or say? I looked for a moment at his brow, wrinkled and worn from years of toil and hardship. He had joined the Church as a teenager and had experienced much persecution in his small German town. I had heard the story many times in testimony meeting. I decided finally to gently nudge his shoulder in hopes of waking him. As I reached to do so, his head slowly lifted. There were tears streaming down his cheeks and as I looked into his eyes I saw love and joy. He quietly reached up and took the water. Even though I was only twelve then, I can still remember vividly the feeling I had as I watched this rugged old man partake of the sacrament. I knew without a doubt that he was feeling something about the sacrament that I had never felt. I determined then that I wanted to feel those same feelings.”4
Brother Schmidt had communicated with heaven, and heaven had communicated with him.

“You have to tell Ba (Father), Loan (LoAnn).”
Loan looked up at her older brother as they walked home through the snowdrifts. “I … I know, Giang.” She buried her nose deeper into her scarf. “But what will he think when he finds out that I’m singing the solo tonight in our school’s Christmas play?”
Her brother’s answer came in frosty puffs. “I don’t know. It is a great honor that Miss Watson chose you out of all the third graders. But I’m afraid that Ba will not approve. After all, he is a leader in our Buddhist religion, and we do not celebrate Christmas.”
Loan felt tears stinging her eyes. “I wish Ba would understand. Sometimes it’s hard being different. If I was good at something, maybe I could make friends easier.”
“I know, Loan, and you are good at singing.” Her brother put his arm around her. “It’s just that Ba might not like your singing in a Christian program.”
“Loan? Giang?” Their mother called from the front porch.
“We’re coming, Ma (Mother).”
“Ooh, you are wet.” Ma bent to help with their coats, giving them each a kiss. Loan caught the comforting scent of almond shampoo as her mother’s hair swished against her silky aó-dài (long, side-split dress worn over pants). More good smells drifted from the kitchen.
“Mmmm. What’s for dinner?”
“I’m making something special tonight—fish, with your favorite nu’o’ c mam (fish sauce), and mangoes for Uncle Lan.”
“Uncle Lan?” Loan asked.
“Yes, remember? Têt Nguyên Dán (Vietnamese Lunar New Year) is early this year—at the end of January. Uncle Lan has offered to help us get ready for it by fixing our broken couch. Your Aunt Mai and I will sew new clothes.”
Tet, a day filled with fireworks and gifts of money, celebrates the renewal of body and spirit. Loan wondered how she could have forgotten her favorite Vietnamese holiday. She’d forgotten other things too—Buddhist relatives, neighbors, and friends. What would they think if they found out about her solo? Ba would be ashamed.
But it was too late. The play was only a few hours away. Loan stood in the middle of the room, her foot tracing a pattern in the rug. “Ba?”
“Yes?” He looked up from his book. Then, seeing something in her face, his voice turned deep and warm. “Come here, little one. What is it?”
She drew closer, and he put his big hands on her narrow shoulders. Suddenly she was not afraid. Her story poured out.
“Ahhhh.” Wise lines crinkled around her father’s eyes. “Loan, you are too young to remember our home in Vietnam. When you were born in Saigon, it was the season of the rains. Outside our window was a flowering bush where a thrush lived. All day long he sang. I think that that little bird of Saigon gave you his beautiful voice.”
“Then you do not mind?”
“No, my little bird. I am proud for you to be chosen. Go tonight and do your very best. Sing with all your heart and soul.”
“Oh, Ba, thank you.”
“How will you get to the school?”
“One of my classmates, Molly, and her parents will pick me up on the way. There will be a party afterward for my class members and their families in our classroom.”
“I see.” He nodded slowly. “But I wish you to come straight home after the performance. I will send Giang to walk with you.”
“Yes, Ba.”
Loan saw her mother standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry I won’t be here for your special dinner,” she said.
“Do not worry.” Her mother smiled softly. “Hurry, and I will have some food for you before you leave.”
A few hours later Loan climbed the platform in the school auditorium. It was time for her solo, “Silent Night,” the final song in the Christmas play. As she took her place by the nativity scene, the rest of her class filed onstage behind her, holding pinpoint flashlights.
“Shhhh,” Miss Watson signaled. The auditorium lights dimmed, and the curtain swept back to reveal a sea of faces. Loan could feel her knees begin to tremble nervously. Her mouth felt dry. Then Ba’s words floated into her memory: “Sing with all your heart and soul.” She pictured the thrush singing in his flowering bush, and her voice sailed out over the audience, high and pure. “… Sleep in heavenly peace.” On her closing notes, the lights went out. Only the children’s flashlights dotted the dark like a sprinkle of stars. The applause was thunderous.
As the curtains closed, Molly hugged Loan. “You were wonderful,” she whispered. Miss Watson and Loan’s classmates beamed at her.
Loan smiled, too, but her pleasure didn’t last long. Her classmates were already hurrying off the stage to join their families. They were getting ready for the party, and Loan knew that she must leave with Giang.
As the lights went up, Loan spotted Giang in the back of the auditorium. Then her eyes widened. Uncle Lan and Aunt Mai were beside her brother, and next to them, smiling proudly, were Ma and Ba!
They came to hear me sing! Loan realized. Tears blurred her vision.
Suddenly Molly was beside her on the stage. “I hope you’re coming to the Christmas party, Loan.”
“Yes, … I think I am.”
Molly waved to Loan’s mother and father. “Your house was so cheerful tonight when we picked you up. Were you celebrating something?”
“We’re getting ready for our new year—Tet.” Loan hesitated. “W-would you like to come over and see sometime?”
“Could I?” Molly linked her arm through Loan’s. “I’d like that very much.”
Together they ran toward the side of the stage. Loan felt her heart soar and sing like the little bird of Saigon.

While serving as young missionaries in Chile, my companion and I were walking down a street in the city of Los Andes. Across the way, a lady leaned out of her window to shake a blanket and said, “Good morning, elders.” She then disappeared into her house. I was surprised by her greeting. I walked up to the door, knocked, and when the woman answered, I asked, “How did you know us?”

She invited us in and explained that she and her husband had been two of the first people baptized in that community many years earlier. They had loved the Church until they had been offended. They now attended another church. “Now we know the Mormon Church is not true,” she said, retrieving a book titled something like Everything You Want to Know about the Mormons and written, of course, by a non-LDS author.

I glanced at the first few pages. I wasn’t an expert in Church history, but I knew Joseph Smith did not claim to see two angels named Urim and Thummim! “Not all this is true,” I said to the woman. “Look, if you want to know about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, talk to us. We’ll help you.”

That was the beginning. In the weeks that followed, my companion and I watched the members of this family add to their testimony tanks through study. They became active in the Church, but relying only on experiences in the Church was not enough to see this sister and her family through when the going got rough. Now, because they had also studied hard and found answers on their own, they each could say, “I know.”

At the same time, 200 miles away in Melbourne, two men were discussing exactly that.
The coach of the Australian Olympic basketball team sat across the desk from President Bingham. “We need your help,” he said. “I know you used to have teams called Mormon Yankees. Some of your missionaries were pretty good. With the Olympics coming, it’s a long shot that Australia will win any games. We need to practice against players with talent and experience. Some friendly practice games will help people know more about your church, and they will help us get ready for the Olympics. Can you put a Mormon Yankees team together one more time?”
After the meeting, President Bingham found one of his assistants. “Bring Elder Condie back to Melbourne,” he said. “Missionaries will still be missionaries. But we’re going to help Australia prepare for the Olympics. And I’ll need Elder Condie to help choose a team.”

I was baptised on 26 September 2004. I know for sure from that week onwards I was regular to the church. Both my daughters, Annie and Jenny, and I did our best in all our callings.
After few years of our membership in the Church, we had to move to Tirupur due to my daughter’s job and there was no branch in the town. We used to make two and a half hours trips by train to Coimbatore or Semmedu to attend sacrament meeting. My husband had an accident and time made it very difficult for us to attend church regularly.
We still kept our faith, prayed both personally and as family. We prayed and fasted for a branch in our town. It was three long years without sacrament, no gospel had been taught, no missionaries, no people then to visit. This filled us with unhappiness and heavy hearts. Our material blessings kept us alive but still our souls were always hungry and thirsty for spiritual food and comfort.
To our surprise and wonder it was announced that there is going to be a home group in our town. I felt so happy and my soul rejoiced.
It was a fast Sunday and we were about 70 members, each of us testified how merciful and mindful the Lord was of His children. Now, our life is blessed. Now our generations will grow in the Church, follow Christ and hold on to the iron rod as we follow the principle of obedience. I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church on this earth. The Book of Mormon is a true word of God. I know President Nelson is called of God.

I took this picture by my house on Christmas. I thought it was cool how the ice formed on the grass. I like it that Heavenly Father makes beautiful things.
Michael H., age 11, South Dakota, USA

I sit and wait and read a book.
Then Doctor says, “Let’s have a look.”
He measures me and taps my knees,
Looks in my nose to find a sneeze,
Peers in my ears with his small light
To see if they were washed last night.
His stethoscope is tickly cold—
One end to hear, one end to hold.
He listens to my back and chest.
Now comes the part I like the best:
He says, “You’ll be a big boy soon!”
Then gives to me a red balloon.

“I try to replace a negative or unclean thought with a positive one by thinking of something fun I’m looking forward to. If you think of something positive and uplifting, you can filter out the negative! If you think about your Heavenly Father and your Savior, you will find the strength and power to push bad thoughts away.”
Breelynn S., 12, Georgia, USA

When people at school and church bullied me, a young woman in my ward reached out to help. She showed me that what others thought about me didn’t have any meaning in God’s eyes and that I should care only about what Heavenly Father thinks. Show your friend God’s love through your love and actions. Once she realizes that what the bullies think doesn’t matter and that only what God thinks of her matters, she will be able to shrug off the words and actions of the bullies.
Ellie P., 17, Washington, USA

When I was nine years old, I committed a crime. I made a decision to steal a comic book from a store. The owner did not catch me stealing, but at home my parents were suspicious, knowing that I had no money to buy the comic book. Once my mother got the truth from me, she took me back to the store, where I confessed my guilt to the owner. He let me decide how to make full restitution and how I was going to go about learning not to steal again.
The store’s floor was made of hardwood, and each evening the owner would throw sawdust down and sweep it to get up all of the dust and dirt that accumulated during the day. That job was assigned to me. I was sure that I would only have to do it for a few days. As I came into the store each afternoon after school to do my sweeping, the proprietor would nod his greeting and motion toward the broom and cardboard box of sawdust in the back. It was weeks before he told me one night that he thought I had swept long enough.
I tell you this particular story, not to relive the sin, but to point out that it is the sweeping and the price I had to pay that I remember vividly. I still have the memory of taking the comic book, but the feelings of guilt, heartsickness, distress, and deep sorrow are long gone because I was helped to repent. I remember those long hours of sweeping now to remind me of the price of stealing. That encourages me not to be dishonest again.

Recently, I went on a famous hike to Roy’s Peak in the beautiful mountains of New Zealand’s South Island. Because the hike lasted several hours, I took only what I needed: some snacks and a lot of water.
When I started, my backpack already felt heavy. Half an hour into my hike, I felt the weight of my pack even more on my shoulders and back. For a moment, I thought about throwing out some of my water. But immediately, I knew I would need it.
An hour and a half before I reached the mountaintop, the path became steeper and covered with snow. I began to think I couldn’t reach the top, but my goal motivated me to continue.
When I finally reached the top, my backpack felt much lighter. By then I had eaten my snacks and drunk most of my water. Resting and appreciating the beautiful view from above, I reflected on my journey—to the mountaintop and in life.
For hours, I walked uphill, nourishing and hydrating my body so that I had strength to keep going. What seemed like a burden in the beginning—lifesaving water—blessed me to reach my goal.
We all experience ups and downs, but the Holy Ghost helps us make good decisions. I almost left more than half a liter of water on the trail, but I felt impressed to keep it.
With moist eyes, I thanked my Heavenly Father for these reflections. Being in the snow-covered mountains that day inspired me to analyze my life, my decisions, my goals, and my personal backpack.
Before my hike, I was full of uncertainty regarding my life and my work in a foreign country. But now I feel that everything will be fine. I know that the Lord will take care of me.
In company with the Spirit, I know I can make correct decisions that will lift me mentally, physically, and spiritually. And when I feel weighed down, I can turn to our Savior, the source of “living water” (John 4:10). I know He will nourish me and lighten my load (see Matthew 11:28–30).

I would like to express my thanks for “Man’s Dominion” by Hugh Nibley in the January–February New Era. This was truly an answer to my prayers as I had been praying most sincerely for guidance on the subject of man’s responsibility toward the animal kingdom. I had always felt in my heart that the principles Brother Nibley brings forth were true. It was the sayings of some earlier prophets about animals that first interested me in the Church. Brother Nibley has certainly helped me with his message.
I also appreciated the words of President Kimball in the fall conference of 1978 concerning the wanton killing of animals. May God continue to bless these men for their work. I am so grateful to belong to the same true church as men such as these.
Francis E. RobertsonHibbing, Minnesota

In my experience, I’ve been assigned to watch over people who struggled with divorce, with financial ruin, with children who would not respond to all that parents had done, or with disease that would not respond to all that faith and medicine could do. I’ve gone to a home where little twin girls were sent to the screen door to tell us that Mommy and Daddy were sleeping and couldn’t we come another time.
I knew in my heart that effort “now and then” wasn’t enough, that “going out home teaching” or even “giving a good lesson” wouldn’t do it. God called us to watch over and help people in all their struggles for physical and spiritual well-being. He called us to help by the Spirit. He called us to teach by the Spirit. He called us to live what we teach. He called us to bear testimony. He called us to love them.

On December 17, 1973, the president of Lufthansa German Airlines in Frankfurt, Germany, received alarming news. Five terrorists had hijacked a Lufthansa 737 jet in Rome, Italy, and were making their way to Athens, Greece, with hostages on board. As they did so, 32 people lay dead in Rome, and one of the hostages now in flight was soon to be mortally shot and summarily dumped onto the airport runway in Athens. With guns to the heads of the pilot and copilot and with hostages trembling in terror, the unstable hijackers directed a bizarre path from Rome to Beirut to Athens to Damascus to Kuwait.

In an instant, the president of Lufthansa ordered into the air his chief pilot for the 737 fleet. Thirty-three-year-old Dieter F. Uchtdorf was to take a small group of emergency personnel and follow the hijacked plane wherever the guerrillas took it. In every setting possible he was to negotiate for the release of the plane, the pilots, and the hostages. Then, when all of this had been accomplished, he was to fly the hijacked 737 back to headquarters in Frankfurt.

With fortunately no more bloodshed, this mission, like so many others he had been on personally and professionally, was successfully accomplished. Unknown to him at the time, it was a portent of more important missions yet to come.

“The constable who served this second warrant upon Joseph had no sooner arrested him, than he began to abuse him,” Newel wrote. The constable refused Joseph food, even though Joseph had been in court all day with nothing to eat. Then Joseph was taken 15 miles to a tavern where men gathered to “abuse, ridicule, and insult him. They spit upon him, pointed their fingers at him, saying, ‘Prophesy! Prophesy!’” The only food Joseph received for the night at the tavern was crusts of bread and some water.
Joseph Smith was taken before the Magistrate’s Court in Colesville. Again, his friends, including the Knights and the counselors Mr. Knight had hired, were at his side.
Newel reported of the trial that many witnesses were called who swore to incredible falsehoods about Joseph Smith. Some of these witnesses contradicted themselves so plainly that the court would not allow their testimony. Others were zealous to convict Joseph but could only testify of things they had heard others say about him. Finally, Newel Knight himself was called as a witness by a prosecuting attorney, a Mr. Seymour, who had been sent for just for this occasion.
Newel faithfully recorded in his journal the interrogation given him by the lawyer Mr. Seymour:
“Mr. Seymour asked: ‘Did the prisoner, Joseph Smith, Jun., cast the devil out of you?’
“[Newel’s] Answer: ‘No, sir.’
“Question: ‘Why, have you not had the devil cast out of you?’
“Answer: ‘Yes, sir.’
“Question: ‘And had not Joseph Smith some hand in it being done?’
“Answer: ‘Yes, sir.’
“Question: ‘And did he not cast him out of you?’
“Answer: ‘No, sir, it was done by the power of God, and Joseph Smith was the instrument in the hands of God on this occasion. He commanded him to come out of me in the name of Jesus Christ.’
“Question: ‘And are you sure it was the devil?’
“Answer: ‘Yes, sir.’
“Question: ‘Did you see him after he was cast out of you?’
“Answer: ‘Yes, sir, I saw him.’
“Question: ‘Pray, what did he look like?’
“(Here one of the lawyers on the part of the defense told me I need not answer that question.) I replied:
“‘I believe I need not answer that question, but I will do it if I am allowed to ask you one, and you can answer it. Do you, Mr. Seymour, understand the things of the Spirit?’
“‘No,’ answered Mr. Seymour, ‘I do not pretend to such big things.’
“‘Well, then,’ I replied, ‘it will be of no use for me to tell you what the devil looked like, for it was a spiritual sight and spiritually discerned, and, of course, you would not understand it were I to tell you of it.’
“The lawyer dropped his head, while the loud laugh of the audience proclaimed his discomfiture.”
Following Newel’s testimony, the closing arguments were made. Mr. Seymour attacked the character of Joseph Smith in a violent harangue. The Colesville gentlemen Mr. Davidson and Mr. Reid followed on Joseph’s behalf, and even though they were not formally trained lawyers, they silenced all opposition and convinced the court that Joseph Smith was innocent. He was cleared in court of all charges and freed.
Even the second constable who had arrested Joseph Smith and treated him so cruelly came forward and apologized. The constable went so far as to warn the young prophet that a crowd was waiting to tar and feather him a short distance from the court, and the constable helped Joseph escape the mob.

This flowering would amaze those men with painted faces who, in a cowardly attack, shot and killed the Prophet that sultry June day in 1844. It would amaze Illinois Governor Thomas Ford, who had pledged to protect the Prophet and then left him to the mob. It was this same Thomas Ford who concluded in his History that Joseph Smith “never could succeed in establishing a system of policy which looked to permanent success in the future” (Thomas Ford, A History of Illinois … , quoted in B. H. Roberts, Comprehensive History of the Church, 2:347). Thomas Ford today lies buried in Peoria, Illinois, largely forgotten, while the man he judged a failure is remembered all over the earth.