Gospel Story Finder

When I was 17, I’d taken out a small insurance policy that I thought would be useful, when it matured, to go towards a deposit for a house. I cashed it in early. (I lost nothing; every penny I had paid was returned to me; there was no financial penalty for early exit.) I was sent a cheque that paid for my whole mission. Isn’t it funny how things work out? Another small unplanned blessing. I then posted my papers.

The oldest of ten children, Marion was born to George S. and Artemesia Redd Romney on September 19, 1897, in Colonia Juarez, Mexico. He attended school and worked on the family farm until revolutionary activities in northern Mexico forced the American colonists to leave their homes in 1912. His father could not accompany the family, so 14-year-old Marion was put in charge of taking them safely to Texas.
On the way, armed members of the rebel army stopped them and searched the wagon. They took the family’s 20 pesos, the only money they had. Then they “drew their guns … and pointed them towards the wagon. As I looked up the barrels of the rifles, they seemed very large to me, and I suppose this was one of the most exciting moments of my life. … They did not shoot, however, and I lived to tell the story.”
From Texas, the Romneys moved to California, then to Idaho, where Marion’s father taught school for three years. Finances were tight. Young Marion couldn’t even afford a coat. Yet tithing was always paid. Marion never forgot the cold day he had to trudge to the bishop’s to deliver the tithing. He said later that it would never again be that hard to pay.
Marion’s father became president of Ricks Academy, and the family moved to Rexburg, Idaho. At Ricks, Marion played on the football team and the championship basketball team. He also met the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, Ida Jensen, just hired by his father as a teacher.
But Marion had been saving his money, and resolved to serve a mission. His father could not afford to help him, but he accompanied his son to the bank where Marion borrowed the rest of what he would need. Elder Romney served an outstanding three-year mission in Australia, and returned to pay the loan in full.
He continued school at the University of Utah and resumed his courtship of Ida. They were married September 12, 1924. They had four children, but two died in infancy.
Marion studied and worked at the same time to support his family. He would go to school during the day, work at the post office from 3:00 to 11:00 P.M., sleep, then get up at 5:00 A.M. to study until he left for school. He followed that schedule for three years, also making time each day to study the Book of Mormon.
He was admitted to the bar and practiced law in Salt Lake City for 11 years, holding a variety of city and county offices and serving in the state legislature.
He also served in Church positions, including three years as bishop and three years as a stake president. In 1941, he was called as an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve. His first assignment was as assistant managing director of the welfare program. Ten years later, he became a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. He continued directing the welfare program until he was called to the First Presidency, where he served from 1972 to 1985, first as a counselor to President Harold B. Lee, then as a counselor to President Spencer W. Kimball. When President Kimball died in November 1985, President Romney was called as President of the Quorum of the Twelve.
In addition to being known for his contributions to the welfare program, President Romney was known for loving the scriptures.
One night his son was lying in the upper bunk bed as they read aloud alternate paragraphs from the last chapters of Second Nephi. President Romney heard his son’s voice break and thought he had a cold. As they finished, his son said, “Daddy, do you ever cry when you read the Book of Mormon?”
“Yes, son,” he answered, “sometimes the Spirit of the Lord so witnesses to my soul that the Book of Mormon is true that I do cry.”
“Well,” he said, “that is what happened to me tonight.”
As he was promised in the priesthood blessing when he was an infant, President Romney did have a great mission to fulfill. And his love, his example, and his lifetime of service to the Church, including 47 years as a General Authority, show that the promise was indeed fulfilled.
President Marion G. Romney, president of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and former member of the First Presidency, died at his home in Salt Lake City on Friday morning, May 20, 1988, of causes incident to age. He was 90.

Permit me to share with you a more modern illustration of this principle. Sister Shumway’s parents, Josefina and Rufino Villanueva joined the Church as a young married couple in 1964 while teaching at a university in Manila, Philippines. Shortly after their baptism, they decided to move to the island of Negros in the central Philippines, where Rufino’s parents lived. The Church had no congregations on Negros at the time. The American missionary who taught the Villanueva's wrote in his journal that he had little hope that the Villanueva's would stay active in the Church when there was no organized Church there to be active in.

Josefina and Rufino had a choice. They could have said, “With no ward or branch here, we’ll just go back to our previous church.” Or “Once the Church comes to Negros, we’ll be active again.” Or “no one here even knows we joined the Church, so we can just pretend like we’re not members.” With little knowledge of Church organization and structure, but with firm albeit fledgling testimonies of the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith’s First Vision, they courageously shouted “nevertheless” at all those reasons and moved forward with faith.

They wrote to the mission home in Manila for Church manuals and held Church in their home. They kept their tithing in a jar, and whenever a missionary visited them on his way to Manila, they gave him their tithing. They remained true to their covenants, and several years later, when a group was organized on Negros, the Villanueva's became stalwarts of the Church. Thousands of people have been blessed by their service. The impact of that “nevertheless” moment is multigenerational, and their children and grandchildren are the beneficiaries of that legacy of faith and devotion. I owe them more than I could ever say for raising such a glorious daughter.

Another little miracle occurred two months earlier, when Evonne received a strong impression that they needed to insure their property. This troubled David, as none of the 15 providers he had contacted would insure them. He prayed, “Heavenly Father, if we are meant to insure the house, please help me find an insurer.” The very next company he called agreed to insure the property for a portion of its value.

When spring came, my deep depression lifted, and I no longer needed medication. We moved to a sunny city. I thought all was well and that I would leave my mental illness behind. But I was not completely healed. Feelings of guilt arose for my previous thoughts, feelings, and urges. I disliked that my teenagers had figured out that I had been suicidal. I felt like I had wasted more than a year of my life.
Also, I was scared—especially when the shorter days in September arrived again. I experienced intense daily flashbacks and feared I would suffer acute depression again. But I could see the Lord’s hand in my life as I was led to a wonderful doctor and started therapy. I learned that I also suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). With my doctor’s guidance, I dealt with PTSD.
And then I experienced a miracle. After mighty prayer and seeking to apply the Savior’s Atonement in my life, the Lord removed my feelings of guilt rapidly, distinctly, and tangibly. His voice explained that I didn’t have to carry guilt because my depression wasn’t my fault. Jesus Christ carries that burden for me through the power of His Atonement. I was filled with light and felt hopeful again.
I don’t know all the reasons why I had to face the challenges of life-threatening illness. Although I still carry all the memories, the mental and physical pains are gone. Every day I am grateful for my family, my doctor, and my time here on earth. Because of my illness, I gained empathy and love for others. I grew emotionally and spiritually and gained knowledge that I would not have learned otherwise. I experienced precious spiritual moments with my Heavenly Father and my Savior. My experiences have encouraged me to embrace life.

After finishing my first year of college, I was called to serve a mission, however, I did not have the finances to pay for it. But when it came time for me to leave the Lord helped provide a way. As I gave my missionary farewell speech in sacrament meeting, a less-active sister attending for the first time in years sat and listened intently. After sacrament, she went into the stake president's office and told him that she now knew why the Lord told her to attend church today. She opened her checkbook and paid for all two years of my mission.2

For weeks, Nauvoo had been buzzing with activity. Wagons clattered along frozen streets. People rushed to and fro carrying packages and carting barrels of food. Joseph Taylor knew he would not see this scene much longer. Soon, the Saints would be leaving their homes on the bank of the Mississippi River to travel west.
“Joseph, I need you to load the wagon,” his mother called from the kitchen.
Joseph had been avoiding this for days. He didn’t mind helping, but he knew that once the wagon was loaded, they’d have to leave.
A scratchy burlap sack tickled his face as he lifted it into the wagon’s shallow bed. His family had hardly even started packing, yet the wagon was almost full.
“Where are we putting everything else?” Joseph asked his mother as he picked up another sack in the kitchen.
“We’re only taking the necessities, Joseph,” his mother said. “I thought you understood that. There just isn’t enough room for everything.”
Joseph’s eyes started to fill with tears. It was bad enough leaving his comfortable home, but now they had to leave all of their favorite things too.
Joseph ran upstairs and into the toy room. It was his favorite part of the house. He had spent hours here imagining grand adventures while riding his wooden rocking horse that his father had carved for him. Joseph ran his hand over the horse and felt its golden mane of real horsehair. He realized that he would have to say good-bye to it forever.
On a frosty morning, Joseph’s family tied the canvas covering over their wagon and shut the door of their home for the last time. After inching their way through the snow, they boarded a ferry and pushed off to cross the icy river. Joseph watched as Nauvoo—and his beloved toy horse—slipped farther into the distance.
That night when the Saints set up camp, Joseph wrapped up in a quilt and warmed his hands over a fire. But nothing could help the cold ache in his heart.
Joseph’s father placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please tell me what’s wrong,” he said.
Joseph felt foolish. Everyone had left important things behind. “I miss my horse,” he said, starting to cry. “I love him so much, and I’ll never see him again.”
Joseph’s father pulled him close. “I understand,” he said. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed for missing something you love.”
When Joseph awoke the next morning, his father, who was an Apostle, had left to help some other families in need. Joseph gathered wood and fed the animals. He filled pots with ice from the creek so his mother could cook supper.
As the sun dipped below the horizon that evening, Joseph saw his father coming into camp. He looked exhausted. Ever since he had been injured at Carthage, he had needed to use a cane to help him walk. Today he was limping more than usual. His face was red from the cold, and there was snow on his jacket.
“But it hasn’t snowed all day,” Joseph thought. “Where has Father been?”
Then he saw it. Tied to his father’s horse was Joseph’s rocking horse. His father had ridden all the way back to Nauvoo, across the icy Mississippi River, and risked being caught by the angry mobs just to retrieve Joseph’s beloved horse.
“I think he’ll like going on this adventure to the West, don’t you?” his father asked as Joseph raced into his outstretched arms.

His favorite story is of a boy who was told by a lady whose yard he was hired to care for, “If you do a good job, I’ll pay you $3.00. If you do an extraordinary job, I’ll give you $4.00, and a $5.00 job is impossible.” One day after the boy worked harder than he imagined that he could, the amazed lady agreed that he had indeed done a $5.00 job. Devin’s motto, taken from that story, was to always try to do a $5.00 job in everything he undertook to do.

Laekin Vakalahi always knew that putting the Lord first in his life would shape his future. He has always loved playing sports, especially rugby and basketball.
As a young man he did not play sports on Sundays, as a rule, and he enjoyed going to church and youth activities, including seminary.
He had an opportunity to play rugby professionally but in 2021, he decided to serve a full-time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in the New Zealand Wellington Mission.
Laekin said, “I decided to put God first and serve a mission and then leave things in His hands.”
In 2023, Laekin’s parents and four brothers were on holiday in Hawaii when they met a scout from the Philadelphia Eagles National Football League team.
The scout was impressed with the stature and strength of the four brothers and asked if they had ever played American football.
The parents said, “No, but you really should see the size of our older son who is serving a mission in New Zealand. He is 6’ 5” (196 cms.) tall and weighs 320 (165 kgs.) pounds.”
The Eagles’ scout was so impressed with the stats and photos that he arranged with Laekin’s mission president to have Laekin do a workout in Wellington while the scout observed.
Always concerned about staying on task and following mission rules, Laekin became creative about getting all the scout’s assignments completed.
For example, he demonstrated his ability to lead by recording a class he taught in a zone conference. The Eagles were impressed with his honesty, character, and obedience in following the mission rules.
Following the completion of his mission, he worked closely with the scout on football fundamentals and had an official tryout with the team.
In April 2024, the Philadelphia Eagles signed Laekin to a three-year contract as an international developmental player.
Laekin said, “When you are playing at such a high level you could have a lot of pride or ego, but we need to remember that we are all equal in the eyes of God. Everyone needs to treat people the same, no matter who they are. Praying, reading my scriptures, and listening to Church music helps me to stay connected and grounded.”
Following his football career, Laekin hopes to get a university degree and a career in the film and video industry.

“I was strong in my belief that the Church was not true,” says Rosenelle.
But at Marco’s urging, Rosenelle continued to meet with the missionaries, never committing to baptism, but never completely rejecting the idea either.
“I never gave up,” says Marco. “I knew it would happen.”
And it did. While reading the Book of Mormon one afternoon, Rosenelle read about Alma the Younger. Soon she was thinking about her own life and the direction it was taking. She prayed for a long time that day and started to have some feelings that she couldn’t quite describe.
“Marco told me it was the Spirit,” says Rosenelle. “I knew he was right. I became converted and was baptized. I haven’t ever regretted it.”

“Recently I was able to travel with more than 100 other young men and young women from the Hamburg Germany Stake to the Frankfurt Germany Temple to do baptisms for the dead and to attend a youth conference. The trip, however, didn’t start out exactly as I had thought it would.
“We stayed in a youth hostel in Bad Homburg. The hostel is a really old building with dim rooms and old furniture. Some of the youth in our group, who had expected the comforts of home, were disappointed by their first impressions and wanted to go home.
“Our feelings began to improve, however, as we became involved in the activities and workshops of the conference. Each morning we had a devotional in which many of our personal questions were answered. And one evening we had a fireside with Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Seventy, who is a member of our Area Presidency.
“During the rest of the trip, I didn’t hear anything else about going home. As we became more unified in our purpose, the worldly environment as well as the just-for-fun activities became less and less important. I frequently had the feeling that a lot of us had come on the temple trip actually hungry for spiritual experiences. Many of us had those righteous desires fulfilled by our experiences in the temple. Tears of gratitude were shed, and friendships became stronger. Nowhere on this earth have I felt closer to Heavenly Father than in the baptistry in the temple. How marvelous it will be when I can go to the temple and receive my own endowment and enter the celestial room!
“At youth conference and in the temple, we felt the Spirit of the Holy Ghost. When we returned home, we took many memories with us—not of our less-than-ideal accommodations, but of the Spirit we had felt in our hearts.”—Julia Hardell, Hamburg Germany Stake

This leads us to the profound gift described in the proclamation: “children are an heritage of the Lord.” [25] And yet, we live at a time when having children can be viewed as a transition of loss—loss of freedom, loss of identity, loss of public recognition, loss of pleasure. I recently sat beside a new mother. Her infant, just 6 weeks old, was still struggling to nurse and bottle feed. His utter dependence struck me. He gazed directly into his mother’s face, locking his eyes on hers. In spite of having no real capacities, it was clear that he recognized her. I could see in his eyes that she was his entire world. For a second, his mouth broke into a smile, and I watched her exhaustion give way to radiance.

Can we possibly measure what it means to the expansion of our own purpose, meaning, and identity, to bring another life into being, to be another’s entire world, to quite literally enter eternity, becoming part of the past and the future forever, to have the privilege of knowing and witnessing the divinity of another, and to make possible their eternal life?

Last year I was noticing how I didn’t have any “real” talents. Then I received my patriarchal blessing. It said, “You have a special gift to work with people.” When I heard that, I knew what my talent was and decided to do whatever I could to pursue that talent. I was called as the Beehive president and have been striving to do what I can to be a good leader for the Beehives of my ward.
Sherry Olson, 14Sonora, California

In Kelsey, Texas, in 1942, at the height of World War II, a group of Latter-day Saints approached President Harold B. Lee (1899–1973), who was at the time a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. They asked, “Is now the day for us to come up to Zion, … where we can be protected from our enemies?”
President Lee took the question seriously. After pondering, studying, and praying for some time, he concluded: “I know now that the place of safety in this world is not in any given place; it doesn’t make so much difference where we live; but the all-important thing is how we live, and I have found that security can come to Israel only when [we] keep the commandments, when [we] live so that [we] can enjoy the companionship, the direction, the comfort, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit of the Lord, when [we] are willing to listen to these men whom God has set here to preside as His mouthpieces, and when we obey the counsels of the Church.”8

My mother’s parents lived next door to us while I was young. They came from England and Scotland and had also joined the Church and crossed the plains. My mother also set a tone of love and spirituality in our home. I remember one occasion when we had used all our credit at the grocery store. In those days you bought groceries on credit. We had also used up all of the food that Mother had bottled the previous fall. I noticed an expression of great concern on her face as she looked at the empty shelves and the empty flour bin. I followed her upstairs and saw her go into her bedroom and kneel in prayer. Later that afternoon one of my cousins came to our house with several boxes of bread. He had been driving up Fifth East Street when the back door of a bread truck flew open and some boxes of bread fell out in front of his car. By the time he got his car stopped and had surveyed the situation, the bread truck had disappeared. He put the boxes of bread into his car and then drove to our home, which was a short distance away. He knew nothing about our need, but there is no doubt in my mind that the bread was a direct answer to my mother’s prayer.

Not everyone agreed with him about the valley. Despite its streams and grassy fields, the new settlement was drier and more desolate than any place the Saints had ever gathered. From the moment he arrived, Sam Brannan had pleaded with Brigham to continue on to the green fields and fertile soil of the California coast.16
“I am going to stop right here,” Brigham had told Sam. “I am going to build a city here. I am going to build a temple here.” He knew the Lord wanted the Saints to settle in the Salt Lake Valley, far from other western U.S. settlements, where he was sure other emigrants would soon take up residence. Brigham appointed Sam to serve as president over the Church in California, however, and sent him back to San Francisco Bay with a letter for the Saints.17
“If you choose to tarry where you are, you are at liberty to do so,” Brigham noted in his letter. Yet he invited them to join the Saints in the mountains. “We wish to make this a stronghold, a rallying point, a more immediate gathering place than any other,” he told them. California, on the other hand, was to be a way station for Saints headed to the valley.18

Illustration by Julia Yellow
It was a calm day at my job as a volunteer firefighter, so I decided to read the Book of Mormon. When one of my co-workers saw me reading, he asked if I knew how we could put on the armor of God in modern times. As we were talking, the alarm sounded. There was a fire in a nearby store.
We quickly put on our firefighting gear and went straight there. The flames were huge, and as we approached the store, something exploded in our direction. The flames engulfed us. The explosion disoriented my co-worker and me for a few seconds. But thanks to our equipment and protective clothing, we suffered no injury.
When we returned to the station after fighting the fire, I asked my co-worker if he remembered his question about the armor of God. He said he did, and I explained that the armor of God is like our protective firefighting gear. We must always wear it so we can withstand the powerful attacks of the adversary. If we keep the commandments, we will be blessed with the protective power of the armor of God, and the Holy Ghost will be our guide.
Fernando de la Rosa Marrón, Mexico

Marta dug a hole in the dirt. She put a tomato plant in the hole and patted the dirt around it. Then she planted some round onions. Next, Marta carefully put watermelon seeds in the dirt.
Marta gave the garden water every day. Finally the garden was ready. Mom picked tomatoes. Marta pulled onions out of the ground. Dad carried a watermelon into the kitchen. Mom used the tomatoes and onions to make sauce for spaghetti. Dad cut the watermelon into sweet, juicy pieces. Marta said, “My favorite foods are the ones we grow!”

Many years ago, I saw the meaning of love in a couple, Keith and Geneva, who demonstrated their love for each other for over 56 years of marriage. Marriage can bring many joys. In the deeply personal covenants of marriage, it can also provide a rich opportunity to provide support for each partner during times of illness or trial. For Keith and Geneva, their love for each other was tested after 27 years of marriage and six children.
At age 52, Geneva was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, a degenerative nerve disease that took away Geneva’s ability to run, to dance, and eventually even to walk or stand. A talented sculptor and artist, she lost the ability to use her hands to sculpt. Due to the debilitating nature of the disease, the divorce rate is high among couples where one of the partners is diagnosed with MS. Geneva valiantly battled the disease for 29 years. One of the reasons Geneva was able to meet the illness with such courage was the constant, devoted care of her husband, Keith. Keith cherished his dear wife. He loved her with all his heart. He made changes in their home to make things easier for Geneva. He adjusted his own schedule to meet her needs. He stood by her during all her medical appointments and treatments. He lifted her literally and figuratively as the disease progressed in her body. He lived to make her life a joyful experience, regardless of the progression of the disease.
As I watched the love between Keith and Geneva flourish and deepen over many years and many trials, I eagerly anticipate seeing the great joy they will experience as they have resurrected bodies and continue in their life and marriage together throughout eternity, free of physical disease and pain. They loved each other with all their hearts.

by Revell Butler
The sunburns and callouses have faded away, but the memories of our visit last summer to the Havasupai Indian Reservation in the Grand Canyon still fill a special place in the hearts of the Young Women from the Sacramento Fourth Ward, Sacramento California Stake.
Eighteen girls and six chaperons participated in the unforgettable trip that took almost an entire year to plan and prepare. Participation in fund-raising projects, committee work, and faithful attendance at sacrament meetings were requirements, and by the time the morning for the trip to begin arrived, we were excited and eager to go.
We spent the first night at the rim of the Grand Canyon and early the next morning hiked down into it, arriving at the Indian village right before lunchtime. We were welcomed by Brother and Sister Bigler, stake missionaries on the reservation. After leaving them, we hiked to Fifty Foot Falls and made camp. It was only about a two-mile walk, but in the 120-degree heat even three feet seemed like quite a journey. After an afternoon of swimming, we spent the evening singing song after song around the campfire. It was sprinkling a little, which was a refreshing treat after all the hot, dusty hiking of the afternoon.
The next day was Sunday, and as we walked into the village, our sandals filled with the soft, powder-like dirt that lined the streets of the village. Our dresses were slightly wrinkled from being in our backpacks, and we received a few curious glances as we walked toward the church.
After the warm, friendly service and a luscious dinner with the Biglers, Doug Butler (a chaperon) announced that he had spoken with the bishop and was going to be baptized the next morning in the river near where we camped. The girls were delighted and all agreed that this was the perfect ending to a spiritual and memorable afternoon.
The next two mornings were devoted to a playschool the girls had planned for the Indian children. Kathy Epling was in charge and had arranged for books, small crafts, crayons, and coloring books to be given to the children. She had planned activities that included reading stories to the children, showing them a missionary filmstrip, and helping them to plant poppy seeds in paper cups as a remembrance of the visit.
Tuesday evening the girls presented a musical program at the community center. They sang songs (mostly camp favorites) for an hour and a half before the spectators would let them stop. The next morning we started for home, stopping at Boulder Dam and swimming in the ice-cold Colorado River in the afternoon. Glacier Point and Yosemite Village were our final stops before arriving home.
We shared many things during the nine days we lived together—food, shampoo, towels—but the most meaningful things we shared weren’t tangible. We shared hard work and often unbearable weather. We shared special experiences that will never leave any of us quite the same again. We laughed together and cried together, and drew closer together because of it. We all came to know each other a little better as we gave of ourselves to others and shared in the special joy that comes from giving.