Gospel Story Finder

John, the older brother, had come home in bad humor from the army. Aunt Lizzie descended on the family with cleanliness and order. Donald would have to tend the children every day, and this summer, more than anything, Donald wanted to go away and live on a farm. He found it easy to get to the farm, but it wasn’t what he’d expected. Donald did find something at the farm, though—something very unexpected!

Blake and Ellie C. weren’t there when the Nauvoo Illinois Temple was built. They also weren’t there when the first Book of Mormon was published or when the Salt Lake Tabernacle was finished. However, when this brother and sister from Layton, Utah, visited the Church History Museum in Salt Lake City, they learned that they could still feel the same spirit felt by those who were there.
Blake and Ellie started their tour by looking at a stained-glass triptych that depicts the appearance of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove. The triptych is at the beginning of the museum exhibit for a good reason. Without the First Vision, there would be no Church history.
In Nauvoo, the Lord commanded the Saints to build a temple. The Nauvoo Temple was decorated with several sunstones on its exterior. At the museum, Blake and Ellie saw a copy of an original sunstone.

My name is Matthew. I guess I was a typical boy growing up. I liked to play games and be outside when I didn’t have to be in school. When I was eight years old my brother Raymond and I started taking piano lessons. I didn’t like sitting in front of that old piano and practicing every day before I could go outside and play with my brother and my cousins Chance and Brian, who lived down the street. It wasn’t nearly as much fun as riding bikes and climbing trees, especially during summer break. But I did it because Mom insisted.
One day I was just begging to go outside and play. “Please, Mom, Chance doesn’t have to practice the piano. Why do I have to?”
“Because it’s good for you. Now I want you to practice some of the Primary songs that I gave you yesterday. And hurry, Raymond needs to practice too, before you boys can go play.”
“All right, but only for 20 minutes today, OK?”
“OK.”
So there I was dragging my feet over to that old piano. At least it was only the Primary songs today. I liked the Primary songs. They always cheered me up when I was sad or scared, but I still would rather have been outside playing with my cousins.
I opened the book and started plunking out the notes to the song “Search, Ponder, and Pray.” I slowly got the hang of it, and it began to sound a little bit like the song I learned in Primary. Softly, I started to sing along. “‘I love to read the holy scriptures, and ev’ry time I do, I feel the Spirit start to grow within my heart—a testimony that they’re true. Search, ponder, and pray are the things that I must do. The Spirit will guide, and, deep inside, I’ll know the scriptures are true.’” Then I felt a feeling that I’d never felt before. As I started singing the second verse, tears began running down my cheeks. “‘So, prayerfully I’ll read the scriptures each day my whole life through. I’ll come to understand. I’ll heed the Lord’s command and live as he would have me do. Search, ponder, and pray are the things that I must do. The Spirit will guide, and, deep inside, I’ll know the scriptures are true.’”*
Later I realized just what it was I was feeling that day. The Holy Spirit had testified to me that the scriptures are true. Heavenly Father had blessed me with the gift of the Holy Ghost, and through that gift came my testimony of the truthfulness of the scriptures. I’ll always be grateful that my mom made me practice the piano that day instead of letting me go out to play.

He liked to grow unusual things in his garden, and one spring day I remember asking him what he was planting. He replied, “Goober peas.” When I told him I had never heard of goober peas, he gave me some and told me to go home and plant them in our garden. I did, and I watched them carefully as they grew. When I expressed my concern that I couldn’t see any fruit on the vine, he told me to be patient. The day came when it was time to harvest the goober peas. Elmer showed me how to dig around the plants, and was I surprised and delighted to find that under the ground were mounds of peanuts just waiting to be roasted—Elmer’s goober peas.

I love being a missionary. It has brought so much joy to my life. But I have to tell the truth. Being in the mission field is tough, and since I’ve been here, I’ve been feeling a little inadequate. One day when I was feeling down, I picked up the June 2000 New Era special issue about missionary work, and I immediately felt the spirit of the MTC come back to me. The Spirit comforted me and gave me a great desire to serve. Having the Spirit, along with hard work, makes a missionary happy. Thanks for helping me when I felt a little down.
Elder Joshua LindsayArizona Tempe Mission

Lillie Anne is our older sister, but usually Jason and I feel like big brothers to her because she has Down’s syndrome, which sets her back a little.
Lillie Anne loves everybody, and all those who really know her love her. She loves Heavenly Father, too, and always tries to do what’s right and what she thinks will please Mom and Dad. So nobody was prepared for the problem we had with her.
It started because Lillie Anne likes animals so much. She likes to hug and kiss cats and dogs, despite our warnings about germs and the dangers of strange animals. We’ve never had a pet because Mom and Jason are allergic to many animals. So whenever Mom goes to the store, Lillie Anne stops and visits Mr. Osterloh and plays with his animals. Mr. Osterloh is Lillie Anne’s friend.
One day in June, Mr. Osterloh came to the door with an onion sack in his arms. When I answered the door, I thought he was bringing us some vegetables from his little garden. But he asked for Lillie Anne. After I called her to the door, he handed her the sack. She was grinning from ear to ear as she opened it. A little floppy-eared black rabbit was inside. She hugged it tight, her face beaming like it was Christmas. The rabbit just sat there in her arms, twitching its nose.
So that’s how we got Harry. Even though they’d agreed to having the rabbit, Mom and Jason sneezed quite a lot at first because Harry ran all around the house. Then Dad bought a little cage for Lillie Anne to keep Harry in when he was inside. She carried Harry around in it all the time. She took him outside to run and play on the grass, but he slept in his cage at night in her room. They were pretty much inseparable.
There was one problem. Not what you’d think. Not the allergies or the kissing (though she does kiss Harry’s nose). You’d never guess. Lillie Anne wouldn’t go to church without Harry! She flatly refused. And when Lillie Anne flatly refuses, there’s not a whole lot anyone can do about it.
Mom and Dad talked to her a lot about how we can’t take pets to church. They explained how it would disrupt the reverence. The home teachers came and talked to her about how animals belong at home. Jason and I pointed out that Harry might get hungry or thirsty, but she didn’t see why that was a big problem. She just wouldn’t go without him.
We had a family council and decided that we’d have to take turns staying home with her until we found a solution. For the next two Sundays, Lillie Anne looked pretty sad and miserable as the rest of us left for church. But she still wouldn’t go without Harry.
Then on Wednesday, I came home from soccer practice to find her sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. This is unusual, because Lillie Anne is still struggling with picture books. Her face was all lit up like she was looking at an angel or something.
“Michael!” she cried. “Look! Look at this boy!” I looked at the newspaper and saw a picture of a boy with very thin arms and legs holding the harness of a big black Labrador retriever. “Read it, Michael. Read it to me.”
I read the article to Lillie Anne. It was about a boy named Abram who didn’t have as many muscles as other people. He had a dog, Tacoma, that went everywhere with him. The dog helped him up if he fell, carried his books to school, and helped in many other ways. I thought Lillie Anne was just interested because she loves dogs, but I was wrong.
“A helper dog, a helper dog,” she kept saying. “Abram has a helper dog. The dog goes everywhere with him.”
Then she laid it on me. “Harry is a helper rabbit. He goes everywhere with me.”
Once she started on this, there was no getting it out of her head. Mom and Dad explained that the dog in the article had been trained for months and the boy had to leave home for a while and be trained along with the dog. Lillie Anne took a lot of interest in all this, but it didn’t change her mind. Jason pointed out that the dog wore a harness, and when he was working, people couldn’t pet him and play with him, unlike a rabbit.
“How is Harry a helper rabbit?” I asked. “How does he help you?”
She thought for a minute. “He makes me happy. He is my very own friend every minute.”
That Sunday Mom stayed home with Lillie Anne. As we left for church, my sister stood at the front gate with Harry draped over her arm. She watched us go with a sad and teary-eyed face. I couldn’t stand it. I had to do something. As we walked to church, I figured out a plan. After sacrament meeting, I found Bishop Lyman and asked if we could talk. When we went into his office and sat down, I was a little nervous.
“Michael,” he said, “what can I do for you?”
“Bishop, if someone in our ward were blind, would you let him bring a guide dog to church?”
“Well, of course. A guide dog can go everywhere.” He smiled at me in a puzzled way.
“Well, what if a person had a different problem,” I continued. “What if they couldn’t walk very well, and they had a helper dog. Could that dog come?”
He thought for a minute. “Oh, I’m sure it could. It would be trained to lie quietly during meetings.”
I squirmed a little. I felt silly comparing a little black rabbit to an intelligent, trained dog, but I could see Lillie Anne’s sad eyes in my mind, so I said it, anyway. “If someone like Lillie Anne has a rabbit that she thinks of as a helper rabbit, would it be all right if she brought it to church?”
Bishop Lyman smiled and said, “A helper rabbit. I’ve never heard of that.” Then he became serious, looked at me very kindly, and said, “Michael, I’m afraid a rabbit would hop around and distract people and make a mess on the floor.”
“Lillie Anne carries him around in a small cage, so that wouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “She hasn’t been coming to church because we told her Harry couldn’t come. But don’t you think people would get used to seeing him with her and then not take much notice after a while?”
“Hmmm.” Bishop Lyman thought for a few minutes. “Your mother and father have told me how Lillie Anne is refusing to come to church without him.” He thought some more. “Well, Michael, animals are important to us. The pioneers wouldn’t have made it across the plains without their animals. We’ll have to make sure the other children understand that Harry isn’t just a pet, that he helps Lillie Anne with her special circumstances. If we do that, we could try it.”
“Thank you!” I jumped to my feet. “It’ll work. You’ll see.”
The bishop smiled at me as I bolted out of his office and home as fast as I could to tell Lillie Anne.
The next Sunday, Lillie Anne was dressed and ready to go to church. She carried Harry in his cage as we walked to church. That really happy look was back on her face again—and on all our faces too.
At first, the kids wanted to pet Harry, but Lillie Anne explained that he was a helper rabbit and couldn’t play during churchtime. Then she told them that if they wanted to pet him, they could come over to the house sometime and play.
It wasn’t long until everyone accepted that, and now Harry sits quietly in his cage on the seat beside Lillie Anne through all the Church meetings every week. Lots of kids come to our house to see Lillie Anne and Harry, the helper rabbit. Harry loves the attention, and Lillie Anne is very happy. We’re all happy.

The entire family enjoys drama. They put on skits, puppet shows, and brief musicals during family home evenings and for summer activities. One of their favorite skits was a Western, which they did for a Primary talent show in Emmett, Idaho. Nicholas liked it because he got to fall into a pie tin filled with whipped cream. Ashley liked it because she had a beard made of chocolate—yum! Sometimes they wear animal noses and play zoo.

Ulfar speaks about the power of the priesthood. He felt that power at an early age. After his baptism, his father and the branch presidency laid their hands on his head to confirm him. When he returned to sit by his mother he turned to her and said, “Wow, they’ve got power. I could feel it from the top of my head going through my body right to my toes.”

Wapello Second Ward
Primary children of the Wapello Second Ward, Blackfoot Idaho Stake, decorated ties for their fathers. The leaders bought the ties from Deseret Industries, and the children gave the ties their own personal touch—bells, pipe cleaners, pom-poms, feathers, and faces. The dads loved the ties.

There was a boy who was being mean at school. I talked about it with my family. I prayed to Heavenly Father for the boy to find friends and to stop bullying. We soon became friends!
Matias M., age 7, Lithuania

I started backpacking with my family the summer I turned six years old. I carried a small pack that had a change of clothes in it and eight rolls of lifesavers—one for each day of the trip! That year we hiked fifty miles. We went over Sawtooth Pass, one of the most difficult passes in the Sierras. It’s 11,700 feet high. A ranger we met said I was the youngest hiker he had ever seen that far into the backcountry. He even took my picture!

If it’s a special time of year, take something to make or a story to tell that fits into that special time and remember to gauge your planned activities to the age of the children. For example, if you tend a four-year-old and a six-year-old on Valentines Day, take some colored paper and crayons so the children can make special Valentines for their parents, and let the children put the Valentines they make on the parents’ dresser or bed so they will see them when they come home. Or if it is Easter time, collect stories to tell the children while they decorate egg cartons to put colored Easter eggs into.

Jax was super nervous about performing his talent, Irish dancing, at the FSY variety show. “I was really, really terrified. Like I’m-in-a-pit-of-snakes terrified,” he says. “I said a little prayer before I got up there. I was still terrified, but then the music came on. I pretended no one was there. And I just started dancing.”

Jax hopped and moved his legs in traditional Irish fashion. But seeing Jax’s cheery face, most people probably wouldn’t guess that it was quite the journey to get there.

“In 2020 I was really stressed and even suicidal,” Jax says. “I was in a mental health hospital for a month. I found out I had pediatric brain inflammation and learned I was autistic. It was really, really hard.”

Once Jax had received some treatment for his mental health, his mom encouraged him to find a physical outlet to help manage his stress. He decided to seek personal revelation about what he could do.

“I prayed about it and asked for help,” he says. “And I remembered that my aunt was teaching Irish dance. So I started the class right before our big Christmas show. I had to learn like five dances in two weeks, so that was fun,” Jax jokes. Soon, Irish dance became a huge blessing in his life. “It really helped with my stress levels and dark feelings,” he says.

At FSY, Jax’s company asked him if he had a talent he could share in the variety show. So he danced on the sidewalk for them. When they told him he should perform, Jax’s first thought was, “Oh, no.” But he decided to share his talent even though he was afraid.

Now that Jax has seen videos of himself performing at FSY, he can’t help but laugh. “I had a completely straight face for the first part,” he says. “But then people started cheering, and I started smiling.”

For youth who are struggling, Jax gives this advice: “It’s better to talk about it with someone than hide it like I did. The Lord knows who you are, and He’ll be there for you. The Lord wants to help you.”

Overall, Jax feels that learning Irish dance has been a blessing from Heavenly Father.

The love between David and Daniel is real—a love anyone in their presence can feel. They met in the fall of 1988 when David was assigned as a peer tutor to Daniel. David joined the peer tutoring program at Viewmont High School because he likes to help people. “We were instant best friends the first time we met,” says David. “Yep,” adds Daniel, “best friends, just like that.” And he snaps his fingers.
Most teens want to do all the “cool” things to be accepted by their peer group. David is obviously “cool.” He’s very popular—after all, he was elected student-body president. He’s handsome, outgoing, a good student, and a triathlete. And yet he befriends a youth who is mentally handicapped and even asks him to be his campaign manager in the school elections. Didn’t he wonder what the other kids would think? He answers, “People get too caught up in what others think. I only worry about what one person thinks. What the Lord thinks of me is most important.”
He continues, “I wanted Daniel to be my campaign manager because he’s so friendly and will talk to everybody. I wanted people to know that handicapped people have feelings just like everyone else and they want to be accepted. That’s exactly what I got.”

This verse also helped me make a difficult decision. My friend and I had been inseparable for five years. We played sports together, went on trips together, and hung out every weekend. But she began hanging out with an older group of friends who I didn’t want to be around. In the end she made me choose between having her as a friend or sticking to my beliefs regarding the Word of Wisdom and the law of chastity. I was devastated. I never knew that standing up for what I believed could be so hard. But I chose to make new friends, always keeping in mind Heavenly Father’s promise to Joseph Smith that everything would work out all right.

I was flying along the east coast of the United States one night at 45,000 feet. A large thunderstorm system had gone through and left the air absolutely clear. The whole coast looked like one great sheet of black velvet onto which someone had thrown handfuls of diamonds.

When I was a teenager, my Young Men president invited the young men in our ward to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year.
I didn’t accept that invitation. I’ve usually been someone who is ready to take on any challenge, but I was at a really low point spiritually.
Interestingly, during this time, I was “preparing” to serve a mission, but I was only going through the motions. My testimony was weak, and I told myself I would serve just to make my parents happy. I had decided that after my mission, I would figure things out for myself. I would believe what I wanted to and do my own thing.
Although I was exerting myself in my schoolwork at the time, I had fallen into a pit of spiritual idleness. I felt so distant from God that I started questioning His existence. I had doubts concerning the authenticity of the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith’s call to be a prophet. I struggled with self-esteem and self-hate, and I had no strong conviction regarding the purpose of life.
“I was in the darkest abyss” (Mosiah 27:29), so I had little desire to read the Book of Mormon.
One night, I was reading a novel when an impression came to me that I believe and know with all my heart was from the Spirit. I found myself getting deeply wrapped up in the plot of this book, and then the thought came to me that I had never studied the Book of Mormon seriously—at least not as seriously as I was reading and pondering this particular book.
I had casually studied the Book of Mormon, taken notes, and prayed about it multiple times before, but I’d been missing a crucial part of Moroni’s admonition in the last chapter of the Book of Mormon: to ask “with a sincere heart, with real intent” (Moroni 10:4). I knew that it was the perfect time for me to ask my Father in Heaven again for answers. I felt spiritually hungry, and this time the answer actually mattered to me. Without realizing it, I had arrived at a spiritual crossroads, where my faith in the gospel hinged on knowing whether or not the Book of Mormon was true.
The same night I received that impression, I began to read the Book of Mormon—but this time with purpose.
Now eager to accept my Young Men leader’s invitation and finish reading by the end of the year, I read my pocket-size copy at every opportunity possible: on the train, during bus rides to school, in between classes, in between chores, before and after meals, and before bed. At every possible opportunity, I read. And every time I read, I kept praying: “I need to know. I need to know.”
One day my family and I went to the Manila Philippines Temple, but I forgot to bring my temple recommend. I did have my tiny copy of the Book of Mormon with me, though, so I sat in a waiting area and continued to read. Occasionally, I would stop to admire the beauty of the temple—the chandelier, the staircase, the stained-glass windows, and the people coming and going ever so reverently with great love for the Lord in their hearts.
At some point while I was reading, I received a very distinct impression from the Spirit in my mind. When it came, it spoke to me on many different levels. I was actually so shocked when it hit me that I sat up a little straighter. I felt such a powerful feeling that I could not dismiss it as a passing thought or a fleeting emotion.
“Totoo ‘to,” is what I heard in my mind.
A simple yet profound statement in my native tongue, Tagalog, that means, “This is true.”
I had received a confirmation that the Book of Mormon was true—that it was the word of God. I finally knew it with all my heart because I knew that impression had come from heaven.
But that’s not all that I learned.
Growing up, I had read the Book of Mormon and learned about the gospel in English. As a matter of fact, during the first few years of my life, I had a better grasp of English than Tagalog. But receiving this spiritual impression out of nowhere in Tagalog—the language native to my country—spoke truth to my heart.
I knew in that moment that God knows me in a very real and personal way.
I knew that He really is there. I knew that He speaks my language, that He loves me, and that He is aware of my struggles and weaknesses. I had that confirmation, but there was something else I needed to know for sure, so I sought out the answer immediately: “Heavenly Father, is Joseph Smith really a true prophet?” The feeling came again, this time more powerfully into my heart: “Totoo ‘to!”
I knew then that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. He saw both the Father and the Son. Through Joseph Smith, the gospel of Jesus Christ was restored in its fulness.
What peace and comfort and knowledge did I receive! At that moment, I wanted to rush out on the temple grounds, waving my small copy of the Book of Mormon in the air and exclaiming, “Totoo ‘to! Totoo ‘to!” I felt like Alma when he exclaimed, “Oh, what joy, and what marvelous light I did behold” (Alma 36:20).
After this experience, my reason for going on a mission immediately changed. Soon my papers were in, and I got my call to serve in Colorado, USA. I was so excited. I knew that someone out there was experiencing what I had gone through—crying out for help and longing for happiness and truth. And I knew that through the gospel of Jesus Christ, they would find that help and happiness, just as I had.
I hope that we may all come to know: “Totoo ‘to!”

“But the teacher I remember best was Sister Call. She was just a jewel. I remember how impressed I was that she was willing to go on hikes with the Trail Builders. She’d plan scavenger hunts but they were not just the regular kind. Each one would have a connection with some part of the lesson. As we would find each thing, it would teach us another part of the lesson. Then there was always a nice reward—some special treat at the end. I can’t believe the creative ways she used to keep our attention as young boys.

The first time I can remember hearing those words was as I sat in the balcony of the Salt Lake Tabernacle. A choir was singing the music of Handel. I remember feeling something in my heart. It was the Holy Ghost. The Spirit confirmed to my heart that the words I heard sung that night were true.

One of Becky’s favourite things, in addition to music, swimming, and running, is looking after the family dog. Ossie grew up learning to be a guide dog for the blind, but because he was so much fun—and not calm enough for blind people—he needed a lively family home instead. He fits in very well with the Wilsons.