Gospel Story Finder

Second, we came to know Jesus Christ, not just as a historical figure, but as the living Son of God. In high school and the years that followed I had made a special study of the New Testament. However, the Savior’s life and mortal ministry had no great impact on my life until the missionaries testified, as did Job of old, that our Redeemer lives (see Job 19:25).
I came to know him as my personal Savior, who gave his life for me and for each of us. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Everyone needs a friend and everyone has a friend beyond compare—Jesus Christ and him crucified and resurrected for us.

When they reached Nauvoo, Orson Spencer directed them to the home of the Prophet. Joseph and Emma Smith welcomed them, inviting the Mannings to stay at the Mansion House until they found homes. Eventually all the members of the Manning family found jobs except Jane. The Prophet and his wife urged her to stay with them.

Jane did stay for several months. When the Prophet was martyred, Jane grieved for him, saying, he was “the finest man I ever saw on earth.”

Desireé Kurtz has known for years what she wants to be when she grows up. When she was 11, she began sketching clothes and recording her design ideas in notebooks. When she was 14, she decided to design and sew a skirt for her first stake dance because she didn’t have enough money to buy a new one. After that, she was hooked and began planning for a career in fashion.

Billy Parker kicked aimlessly at the dusty path with his bare foot. “There’s nothing to do,” he complained. “The fish aren’t even biting today.”
“No luck?” questioned his grandfather who was sitting against an old tree stump whittling and whistling softly to himself.
Billy shook his head. “What are you doing, Grandfather?” he questioned.
“I’m making a willow whistle.”
“Would you show me how?” Billy asked, his eyes lighting up.
“Sure,” Grandfather answered. “When I was a boy I made dozens of these in all different sizes. But kids today don’t seem to make them anymore.”
“I guess they’re like me and just don’t know how, but I’d like to learn,” said Billy.
“Well, now,” said Grandfather, “all you need is a straight branch from a willow. This one came from the old tree hanging over the pool where you were fishing today. Let’s cut off a piece four inches long, making sure it’s smooth and free of leaf scars. It should be about as thick as your middle finger and a bit thinner at one end for the mouthpiece.”
“You mean I can make one right now?” asked Billy excitedly.
“Why not?” Grandfather said and winked. “The sap is running now and has softened the willow bark so it’s the best time to make a whistle.”
“Take this knife and whittle a thin, slanting slice off the thinner end and square the point off to make the mouthpiece,” Grandfather instructed.
Billy made a neat whittle and cut the point off nice and straight.
“Now,” Grandfather continued, “turn your stick over and make a notch through the bark one-half inch from the end of your stick opposite your whittle (Fig. 1).”
Then, Grandfather told Billy to make a circle cut just through the bark and about three inches from the mouthpiece end, being careful to cut no deeper than the bark. Next he showed Billy how to tap the bark gently on all sides with the knife to loosen it without cracking it (Fig. 2).
“The bark should twist off in one piece since the sap has made the inside of the bark slippery,” Grandfather explained.
Billy did as Grandfather instructed and the bark came off in a single piece.
“Fine, boy! Fine,” praised Grandfather. “Now you need a sound box.” He told Billy to lengthen the notch in his wood about an inch and deepen it to about half the thickness of the wood (Fig. 3).
“Next you need an air space to blow through,” Grandfather said. “So shave a thin, flat slice from the end of your notch to the mouthpiece end of the stick. Completely wet the stick all over and slip your bark cylinder back on. It won’t sound like a police whistle or make a loud blast either, but a willow whistle makes a soft, haunting sound like the song of a springtime bird.
“When I was a boy we tried to make them as small as we could. One time I made one only an inch long.”
Billy placed the whistle to his lips and blew, and a high, thin note sounded. He thought he had never heard anything so exciting.
“Thanks, Grandfather,” he said and ran off whistling like the Pied Piper.

Years ago, when our two daughters were still living at home, I decided to show them and my wife the business unit of which I was in charge in the company I worked for.
My real purpose though was to show them a place where, unlike our home, everyone would do exactly what I asked them to do without questioning me. As we arrived at the front gate, which usually opened automatically when my car approached, I was surprised that it didn’t open this time. Instead, a security guard I had never seen before in my life came to the car and asked me for my company ID.
I told him I never needed an ID to drive into the property with my car and then asked him the classic prideful-person question: “Do you know who you’re talking to?”
To which he replied, “Well, since you don’t have your company ID, I cannot know who you are, and while I am at this gate, you will not be allowed to enter the premises without proper identification.”
I thought about looking at the rearview mirror to check my daughters’ reaction to all that, but I knew they were savoring every second of that moment! My wife at my side was shaking her head in disapproval of my behavior. My last resort then was to apologize to the guard and say I was very sorry for treating him so badly. “You’re forgiven,” he said, “but without a company ID, you’re not coming in today!”
I then drove very slowly back home to get my ID, having perhaps learned this valuable lesson: when we choose not to be humble, we end up being humiliated.

For example, one of my responsibilities is to act as navigator, guiding the helicopter pilot to the incident scene. Emergency helicopters can and do fly most anywhere, which makes them invaluable for reaching accident scenes quickly but it also makes them vulnerable. When we are flying at more than 140 miles (225 km) per hour, power cables and telephone wires can be practically invisible. And they can slice through a helicopter in an instant.
On one trip we were coming in to land in a most awkward place. Suddenly the Spirit told me, “Put the clipboard down!” Again almost immediately, I felt, “Put it down!” So I leaned forward to place my clipboard on the case by my knees. As I did so, my point of view altered, and I saw the power cable right below us. “Wires! Wires! Wires below!” was all I could say. And even though we actually touched the cable and caused it to bow, the pilot responded instantly, and we lifted away and were saved. That was the closest to disaster I have come. Without the Spirit’s prompting, that emergency call would have had a very different ending.

I was having a hard time breathing through my nose, and I always had a cold. Mommy took me to a doctor. He said that I needed to have my adenoids and tonsils taken out. I was excited because I would get to eat lots of Popsicles. I was scared, too. I asked Daddy to give me a blessing. On the morning of my operation, I sat on Daddy’s bed, and he gave me a priesthood blessing. He blessed me to be calm and blessed the doctor so that everything would go well in my operation.
After the operation, the doctor told Mommy that everything went very well. When I woke up, I didn’t cry, even though my tummy and throat hurt. Some other children came into the same room after their operations and screamed pretty loud.
I asked Daddy for another blessing later in the week because my throat hurt and I couldn’t stop crying. The blessing helped me calm down. Now my throat doesn’t hurt at all, and I can breathe through my nose. I’m thankful Daddy has the priesthood. I know that Heavenly Father loves me and helped me get better.
Christian Moody, age 3Bristow, Virginia

For 14-year-old Tien Pham and his four young traveling companions—none of whom could swim—this was not your average back pack and river outing. Tien, his scratched and aching arms draped over a gallon plastic bottle, was trying to cross the Mekong River in Laos, far upstream from his Vietnam homeland. He was literally holding on for dear life.
Tien’s Vietnamese family was living in Laos, where his father had been a diplomat. When the South Vietnamese government fell from power, so did Tien’s father. And the government in Laos was unfriendly to the South Vietnamese now, too.
Life became very difficult very fast. Tien’s family had lived in a large home with many maids. His father had a private helicopter and many business connections in foreign countries. Their home was taken over by the new government, and the family was forcibly moved. Suddenly poor and without employment, they walked to another part of Laos.
Tien’s father knew that there was no future for Tien in Laos. Tien would not be allowed to go to school after the eighth grade without government approval. There would be no approval because of his father’s position with the previous government. In addition, he would not be able to find employment because the government was the only employer. For these and other reasons, Tien and his companions decided to take a hike, so to speak, to freedom in Thailand.
The group of boys packed no food or provisions. They did not wish to raise the suspicions of officials as they left town. The journey to the Thai border could have been made in a day under normal circumstances but it took three days for Tien and his friends. They traveled only by night to avoid detection by military patrols. In the daytime, they slept in trees and remained quiet. They lived on bananas and wild fruits as they meandered through a jungle shared with occasional snakes and panthers and a constant supply of insects. The boys, all between 10 and 14 years of age, had already zigzagged through 30 miles of Laotian jungles when they reached their biggest obstacle: the Mekong River.
The Mekong River is the Mississippi of Southeast Asia. It flows for over 2,000 miles through China, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam before it nourishes the Mekong Delta near Saigon and empties into the South China Sea. On the other side of the Mekong, about a half-mile wide at this spot, Tien and his companions could at least see Thailand through the moonlight. It was almost morning. The boys, although afraid to cross, reasoned that they would be killed anyway if they were found by patrols in the morning, and they decided to make the attempt.
While walking along the river, they found the help they needed. Tien and a friend found a pair of plastic bottles discarded near the river. The other boys found plastic sacks. With the floating aids, they thought they had a chance for a successful crossing. Tien and his friend hugged their bottles and waded into the water. With similar hopes, the other boys paddled out into the swift current clutching inflated plastic garbage bags. The water level was high from late summer rains.
As two of the makeshift floats snagged on branches and debris in the river, the plastic easily split and the bags deflated. Without floating aids, Tien’s nonswimming friends first struggled and finally drowned in the murky Mekong water. Tien and the others, unable to come to their aid, could only look on with horror and helplessness. Due to the swift current and their lack of swimming skills, it took Tien and the others three long, exhausting hours to reach the other side. Widely separated during that time, the boys managed to find each other. They had reached the western bank sobered but not shattered; after resting, they pressed on.

Following a hurricane and severe flooding in Houston, Texas, USA, an elderly woman saw Latter-day Saints dressed in yellow Helping Hands T-shirts on their way to assist victims of the devastation. “I knew the Mormons would come!” she said.
This event, reported in a Facebook post by the president of the Texas Houston South Mission, Aaron T. Hall, represents how the Church comes to the aid of both members and neighbors during times of trouble. “There is no challenge too great for the members of the Lord’s Church!” President Hall wrote.

A few months after our walk near the lake, my granddaughter was interviewed by her bishop—her father—for baptism. After the interview I asked her how it went. She answered, almost rebuking me, “Grandpa, an interview is confidential. You know that.”
Bishops, I hope you take that response seriously. It seems to me that my granddaughter grew a lot in understanding in a very short time.

I think of a dear sister who has crippling arthritis in her hands but faithfully each week, upon entering the genealogical name extraction center in Denver, finds the joints of her fingers limber enough to type the names with efficiency and rapidity—the blessings of unselfish service.

My desire to attend the temple began one morning in December 2018. I sat in bed reading an April 1999 general conference talk by Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He spoke about the importance of being worthy to enter the temple. He said the temple “is a place of peace, solitude, and inspiration. Regular attendance will enrich your life with greater purpose.” He went on to add this stunning statement: “Go to the temple. You know it is the right thing to do. Do it now.”2
I highlighted this passage, looked at my 2019 stake calendar, and noted that my branch was scheduled to visit the Johannesburg South Africa Temple every second Friday of the month. I made a goal to go to the temple grounds at least once a month either with my branch or by myself, even though I did not yet have a temple recommend.

Growing up, a lot of girls struggle with the adversary targeting their self-worth. The world places an emphasis on what we look like, and if you’re an athlete, you’re being watched a lot. I felt a lot of anxiety playing volleyball at Brigham Young University. Lots of eyes were on me, and it brought up insecurities. I had been praying to get through the doubts that came with those insecurities. It wasn’t an immediate answer, but I know that it was those prayers and that time with Heavenly Father that helped me overcome those.
The Spirit reminded me that I am now a different person than I was four years ago. Looking back, I can see times when Heavenly Father’s hand gave me experiences and impressions that I have so much more worth than I thought.

Tina knew how she was supposed to feel at Christmas. After all, she attended her Primary class, and she listened to her teacher. She knew all the right answers: It is better to give than to receive. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Do unto others as … *
It was a tradition in Tina’s family to help a needy family every year, and she and her brother, Mack, and her sister, Juleen, would help decide what gifts to buy for that family’s children. Her whole family always went to deliver the gifts, which usually included a case of oranges, a turkey or ham, and a big box of groceries. Tina liked doing it. Even so, she secretly felt that “the joy of giving” was somewhat overrated. It seemed pretty routine to her, even though she knew she couldn’t admit that to anyone without seeming to be a grouch.
The night after her folks had explained that this year they would be helping a Vietnamese family down the block and that she was to choose gifts for a girl about her own age, Tina knelt down to say her prayers. As she finished with her nightly thank-yous and “please blesses,” she added fervently, “Heavenly Father, please help me to choose something Kia will enjoy. And please, please help me to find the spirit of Christmas so I can know the kind of joy I keep hearing and reading about. I don’t really think I have a hard heart, but it seems to me that people keep making too big a deal about giving to others. Help me to understand.”
At school the next day, Tina took special notice of Kia. Before, she was just the Oriental girl who couldn’t talk very well and who wore dresses that were too long and shoes that looked like boys’ shoes. Tina couldn’t remember whether or not she had ever spoken directly to her. At recess she found Kia leaning against the side of the building, watching the other children build a snow fort. Since she had no gloves and wore only those funny shoes, it was easy to see why she wasn’t participating.
“Hi, Kia. Do you like the snow?”
“I do not like. It is very cold.”
Tina made a mental note that warm boots would make a nice gift. That decision made, she turned to join her frolicking classmates. Something, however, made her pause and turn back to the dark-eyed Kia with another question. “Kia, what would you like for Christmas?”
“Christmas? I do not know about Christmas.”
Tina tried to explain about the birth of Christ and the gifts that were brought by the Wise Men and the traditions of gift-giving and love that have been carried down through the years, but she soon realized that Kia did not understand very much English. She tried to make it simple. “Kia,” she said, “on Christmas we give gifts to people we love. Do you understand gifts?“
Kia nodded. “I understand. My mother make a gift to me. These shoes—see? She buy them at a first-hand clothes shop.”
Tina was about to explain that it was actually a second-hand clothing store, but somehow that did not seem important. “Kia, I want to give you a gift for Christmas. What would you like?”
“A gift because you love me?”
Tina was not sure how to answer. It was obvious that Kia had understood every word of her simple explanation of Christmas gifts. Fortunately the bell rang to signal the end of recess. “We’ll talk after school, Kia. We’d better hurry now.”
As Tina was getting her things from her locker after school, her friend Stacie approached. “Hi, Tina. Natalie and I are going to walk by Ferguson’s Department Store and look at the neat window displays. Want to come?”
“Sure, Stace, just a minute.”
As she turned to join her friend, Tina saw Kia standing expectantly a little way down the hall. She was tempted to pretend that she didn’t see her, but when Kia’s hand lifted hesitantly in a kind of shy greeting, she waved back. “Hey, Stace, I guess I’d better not go with you tonight. I have to … I mean, I sort of made a promise to do something else.”
“OK. I have to hurry—Natalie is waiting. Plan to come with us tomorrow.”
She could have coaxed me a little, Tina thought with a tinge of disappointment as she greeted Kia. “Hi. I see you didn’t forget.”
“No. No. I not forget.”
“Well, now, we were talking about what you would like for a Christmas gift.”
“Yes. Yes. A gift because you love me.”
“Well, ah, yes. I guess so. What one thing would you like most?”
“Ah, I need no thing. My family has some food each day and things to wear from the first-hand shop.”
Tina felt exasperation growing within her. “Well, you must want something.”
Immediately the slender girl stiffened, and Tina regretted her impatience. “Kia,” she said more kindly, “I really do like you, and I would like to know you better. There must be something you want.”
“I want two things. I want very much to have a friend—and I want to be able to speak the English well.”
“I know—let’s walk home together, Kia. My house is near your house. On the way I’ll help you learn more English words.”
As the two girls walked homeward, Tina pointed to objects and spoke their names clearly: Sidewalk. Snow. Lights. Decorations. Christmas tree.
Kia pronounced each word with difficulty; but her laughter bore no trace of an accent. When they reached Tina’s house, Kia said, “Good-bye, Tina. You have made me glad. I really like to talk the English. Will you also yesterday help me?”
Tina laughed. “You mean tomorrow, Kia. Tomorrow is the day after today. And yes, I will help you tomorrow.”
Tina hadn’t forgotten that Stacie and Natalie would again be going to the mall, but she couldn’t ignore the eagerness in Kia’s face. In fact, she suspected that she was learning a little more about the joy of giving. The warm boots would be easy—especially since her dad would be paying for the gift—but the gifts of friendship and time were different. As Kia disappeared into the little house down the street, her words came back to Tina’s mind: “A gift because you love me?”
“Yes,” Tina whispered as she skipped home, a wonderful warmth welling up inside her. “Yes, Kia. A gift because I love you.”

During a demanding time of my life, I was called to be the Relief Society president in my ward. I felt intimidated and inadequate, but I tried to be optimistic as I began serving.
Not long after I was set apart, despair and dread overtook me. I knew I needed the Savior’s help. I prayed often, asking Heavenly Father for direction.
One day, I was talking to a friend of mine, and when I told her about my calling, she looked thrilled. “That was the best calling I have ever had!” she said. “I learned so much.”
I was so confused by her reaction and wondered why I didn’t feel the same way about my assignment.
I wanted to feel better about the calling and learn to love it, so I prayed to feel “more joy in his service.” I received a prompting to further develop three Christlike attributes.

As a young boy I was out on a farm away from our home waiting for my father to finish his day’s work. I was playing about, manufacturing things to while away the time, when I saw over the fence in the neighbor’s yard some broken-down buildings with the sheds caving in and with rotting timbers. I imagined as a young boy that that might be a castle I should explore, so I went over to the fence and started to climb through.
Then I heard a voice as distinctly as you are hearing mine: “Harold, don’t go over there.” I looked in every direction to see where the speaker was. I wondered if it was my father, but he couldn’t see me; he was way up at the other end of the field. There was no one in sight. I realized that someone was warning me of an unseen danger—whether there was a nest of rattlesnakes, or whether the rotting timbers would fall on me and crush me, I don’t know. But from that time on, I accepted without question the fact that there are processes not known to man by which we can hear voices from the unseen world, by which we can have brought to us visions of eternity.

“Beat you to the gift shop!” Andrea said, running as fast as a cheetah past her older brother, Michael.
They were exploring the zoo with their parents. It was one of their favorite places, but for different reasons. Michael was fascinated by reptiles, like lizards, snakes, and crocodiles. Andrea was amazed by colorful birds, like parrots and toucans. She especially loved flamingos because pink was her favorite color.
As they got close to the shop, Michael put on a burst of speed, like a gazelle. He got to the shop first and held the door open.
“You’re as slow as a sloth!” he said with a smile.
“But fierce as a lion,” Andrea growled as they walked inside.
Michael knew exactly what he wanted to buy. He went straight to the reptile area and picked up a book called Awesome Facts about Alligators. With the money he had earned this summer, he would have just enough to buy it. He was about to head to the cashier when Andrea called his name. She was in a section that looked like a giant princess party.
“Come here!” Andrea said, excited as a chimpanzee. “I want to show you something!”
Michael shook his head. “No way. I’d rather stay with the reptiles.”
“Please? Just for a second. I need your help.”
With a sigh, Michael walked across the aisle. He felt like a goldfish out of water surrounded by the fluffy feather boas and sparkly jewelry.
“That’s what I want to buy,” Andrea said, pointing to a book on a high shelf out of her reach. “Can you get it down for me?”
Michael stretched tall like a giraffe and grabbed the book. It was full of stickers of people in fancy ballroom costumes.
“Why do you want that?” he asked. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the zoo.”
Andrea flipped open the book. “It has a page with animals. See? Unicorns!”
Michael rolled his eyes. Of course his sister would pick the one book at the zoo with the pretend animals in it. Then he noticed the price. “Do you even have enough money?”
When Andrea saw the price tag, her eyes got wide like an owl, and her smile disappeared.
“Sorry, sis,” Michael said. “Maybe you can find something that costs less.”
“But this is the only thing I wanted,” Andrea said. “Oh well.” She handed the book to Michael so he could put it back. Then she tried to smile again. “What did you find?”
Michael looked at the two books in his hands. Then he made a decision. “Nothing,” he said. “That is, nothing I need right now. Wait here for a second.”
Quick as a rabbit, Michael returned his book to the reptile section. When he got back to Andrea, he handed her the sticker book she wanted, along with some of his money.
“Here. Now you should have enough to buy it.”
Andrea looked as confused as a chameleon on a rainbow. “But why would you spend your money on that?”
“Because it’s important to you,” Michael said. “We might be as different as a python and a peacock, but that’s OK. God still wants us to show love to each other.”
Andrea gave him a big bear hug. “Thank you so much! You can use the stickers whenever you want!”
“Well, they’re not really my style,” Michael said. “But it might be fun!”
Then they walked to the cashier together, as happy as two frogs in a pond!

My first encounter with preaching the gospel was also exciting. In a park near my office in Bogotá, I saw a multitude, and since I had some time, I went down to see what was happening. My surprise was great when I saw the missionaries with displays about the Church and with copies of the Book of Mormon. They recognized me and asked me to stand in the middle of the park with a banner saying, “Be happy; be a Mormon.” I stood for a while in that place. I was a Mormon, but at that moment I was not so happy! But I started to feel better about my ability as a missionary, losing my fear to talk with people about the Church. I let go of my own restrictions—so many “don’ts”—and realized that this is the Church of love and service, of sacrifice and blessings, of happiness and eternal life. My message to the missionaries, to the people that are investigating the Church at this time, and to the members is, “Don’t give up; continue looking for the best results in this wonderful work.”

Mia knows a lot about their allergies and is very careful to help her sisters. When Ellen Joy offers to get her little sister a drink, Mia will say, “Please don’t touch that, Ellen Joy! I have been eating cheese crackers, and cheese is on my cup.”

Also heroic were the rescuers who responded to President Brigham Young’s call in the October 1856 general conference. President Young called for forty young men, sixty to sixty-five teams of mules or horses, wagons loaded with twenty-four thousand pounds of flour to leave in the next day or two to “bring in those people now on the plains” (LeRoy R. Hafen and Ann W. Hafen, Handcarts to Zion [Glendale, Ca.: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1960], p. 121). The rescuers went swiftly to relieve the suffering travelers.