Gospel Story Finder

“You’re never going to finish that thing in time,” Mark said to his eleven-year-old sister, Annie, as he passed behind her chair. In his hands he gently held a honey-colored wooden box, smooth and gleaming in the spring sunlight.
Annie stared glumly at the tangled mint-green yarn in her lap. “You got help from Dad with yours,” Annie defended herself. “No one will help me with this hat.”
“That’s because none of us knows how to crochet,” said Bonnie, Annie’s 14-year-old sister. “The only one who could help you is Mom.”
Annie jumped up, grabbing the yarn in both hands. “Just you wait,” she yelled back as she raced up the stairs. “Mom’s going to love it!”
But Annie didn’t really believe it. Bonnie’s painting was propped up to dry against a wall in their bedroom. It was a watercolor of the park, all grass and trees and flowers and blue sky. Mother would love it! She would also love the old box that Mark had sanded and refinished. It would be perfect for her scarves. But this hat—if it was a hat—no one, not even Mom, could even pretend to love.
The stitches weren’t really stitches at all, just tight, stubborn knots. Annie had to find a way to fix it. After all, it had been her idea to make gifts to welcome Mom home from the hospital. And now it appeared as if even her 10-year-old brother could do better than she could.
She glanced at the clock and saw that it was already 4:30. Bonnie soon had to leave for ballet class, and Mark was knee-deep in homework. It was up to her to start dinner again if Dad was to have any time at the hospital with Mom. She had been there for two long weeks! Even the tangle of mistakes in Annie’s hands couldn’t make her feel sad when she remembered that Mom would be home tomorrow.
After the dinner dishes and her own homework were done, Annie got right back to work. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her long brown hair brushing her cheeks, when Dad softly knocked. “How’s it going, Annie?”
“Oh, Dad,” Annie admitted reluctantly, lifting her aching neck, “I just go around and around, and the stitches just get smaller and tighter.”
“How about giving it up for a while, honey,” said Dad gently. “We have a big day tomorrow. You look very tired.”
“I have to finish it before Mom comes home,” Annie said with determination, “even if it takes all night.”
“Annie, I want you in bed by 9:30 at the latest,” he said firmly. “Mom will understand, I promise.”
The next morning Annie watched from the door as Dad helped Mom walk up the brick path. She looked thin and white, and she leaned heavily on Dad’s arm. But she was smiling up at Dad and laughing as she always did.
In an instant Annie was in her mother’s arms.
“Gently now, Annie,” laughed Dad as Annie hugged Mom hard.
“It’s all right, John,” Mom said, holding Annie close. Soon Mark and Bonnie were there, too, and Mom was hugging them and saying how much she had missed them all.
“We have surprises for you,” Mark told her. “Come and see.”
Dad’s bouquet of pink carnations was next to the two wrapped gifts on the living room table.
“Now, what’s all this?” Mom asked, smiling as she sat on the sofa.
Mom really liked her presents. Annie felt awful that there was nothing there from her. How could she explain about the hat? She couldn’t. Edging out of the living room, she escaped into the kitchen and finished making the tuna salad for lunch, stubbornly blinking back her tears. She couldn’t let Mom see them. That would make things worse.
She was putting a pan of soup on the stove when she felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder. “Look at this nice lunch you’ve made, Annie,” Mom said quietly.
Annie turned to face her mother, and this time she couldn’t blink away the tears. “But I have no present for you, Mom,” she said. “I wanted it to be so perfect—a lacy crocheted hat to look pretty with your hair—but …”
“Shhh,” whispered Mom, putting her arms around Annie. “Don’t you think Dad’s told me about all that you’ve done here while I was in the hospital? With Bonnie’s ballet recital coming up and Mark so far behind in his schoolwork, you have had to do more than your share of the work. Dad doesn’t know what he would have done without you.”
“But Mark and Bonnie made such nice things for you, and mine turned out just horrible.”
“Do you want to know what I think? I think you gave me the most perfect gift you could have given.”
“You do?”
“You gave of yourself for two whole weeks without any thought of a reward, and I bet that after lunch and a nap for me, we can figure out that hat and finish it together in no time.”

As a missionary, I expected to be confronted with negative opinions, opposite to my own, but found that because I had the Holy Ghost as a constant companion, they didn’t touch me. I have found that as I remember that experience and strive to have the Holy Ghost with me, unkind words seem to pass me by. It’s like putting on the armour of God. We’ll also have no desire to offend or cause hurt to others.

Early in 1846, when Henry was 17, the Saints had to leave Nauvoo. For the wagon trek across Iowa, Jonathan C. Wright hired Henry to be a chore boy and drive an ox team. Henry liked this job, except for Brother Wright’s restriction that Henry walk his horses but never run or race them.
While Henry was camped with the Wrights at Council Bluffs, Iowa, a United States army recruiter arrived. “I had told my comrades that he would not get a man,” Henry said. But President Brigham Young called a meeting in a brush-covered bowery and asked that 500 men enlist for the Mexican War. Henry felt impressed to answer the call, so he joined the army. Mr. Wright, upset at losing his hired hand, “was wrathy and said that I could not go.” But Henry went. He was not yet 18 as required by the government, “but as I had nearly got my growth in height I passed without difficulty.” Besides, nobody asked him his age.

Pig, Horse, or Cow, Don’t Wake Me Now by Arlene Alda This rhymed story includes all the animal sounds as one wakes another on the farm. The last one, a cat, wakes Billy, who was dreaming of an ice-cream-loving dog, “And of a hippo in deep water, / And of a baboon with her daughter.” The illustrations are all beautiful photographs.

A couple of years ago, a young man I’ll call John came to my office shortly after he had returned from his mission.
“Elder Clarke, I need help,” he said to me with great concern. “I loved my mission. It changed me. However, I am losing some of those sacred and special feelings that I felt in the mission field. What can I do to feel like I felt in the mission field?”
I have seen this happen many times. What he was asking was, “What can I do to be happy, feel the Holy Ghost, and be close to the Savior?” This is a question we all should ask every day.
On that afternoon in my office, we turned to James 1:27 and read, “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”
Next we read Alma 34:28: “If ye turn away the needy, and the naked, and visit not the sick and afflicted, and impart of your substance, if ye have, to those who stand in need—I say unto you, if ye do not any of these things, behold, your prayer is vain, and availeth you nothing, and ye are as hypocrites who do deny the faith.”
Then we reviewed the story in the Gospel of John in which Peter and other disciples had gone fishing and caught nothing but then were told by the Savior to move their net to the other side of the boat and caught 153 fish. After they had eaten, Peter and the Savior talked. The Savior knew He was instructing this soon-to-be prophet and president of the Church for one of the last times.
“Lovest thou me?” the Savior asked.
Peter answered, “Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee.”
Then the Savior said, “Feed my lambs.”
The Savior asked the same question two more times and then instructed: “Feed my sheep” (see John 21:3–17).
Peter was really being instructed to practice pure religion, or to care for the people.
I told John that if he would practice pure religion, he would be happy and feel as he had felt on his mission. Likewise, if you want to be happy, feel the Holy Ghost, and grow closer to the Savior, then practice pure religion. From the scriptures above we learn four key practices that can be defined as pure religion.
John went back to college and acted upon what we had discussed. Later he sent me an email in which he shared his experience reading inspirational stories from the Church magazines to elderly people at an assisted-care facility.
“Many individuals felt a great amount of love and support from the Savior as the Spirit testified of simple truths and testimonies,” he wrote. “I had never known I was capable of feeling such love from and for strangers with whom I had little connection. But I felt the Savior’s love for them, for those kind souls. It appeared clear to me that I would meet these individuals—now riddled by dementia and physical ailments—on the other side. I would see their husbands and wives, who have been looking over them from the other side of the veil. I felt very much the presence of my grandfather—whom I had never met—as I sat with my grandmother, and his spirit strengthened me and supported me. I knew he was thankful for my simple visit.”
He continued: “Who knew that I could find such tender mercies? It seems so meaningless to come home after something like that and just turn on the TV or tune out in some other way. It has changed me to realize that these tender experiences are available at all moments of the day as we, as Saints, strive to focus and help others in some way.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, standing at the pulpit. I had never seen Brother John at church before, let alone heard him bear his testimony. A month later he came to church and bore his testimony again.
It all started one Sunday morning in priesthood executive committee meeting. I was serving as Young Men president. We had just read from the Church Handbook of Instructions, and the bishop was sitting quietly, pondering. Then he looked up and said, “I want our Aaronic Priesthood brethren to begin collecting fast offerings from less-active members.” He asked us to involve the teachers and priests.
I was surprised. In Cape Town, South Africa, most members live far from each other. It takes about 35 minutes to drive from one side of our ward to the other. The young men had never collected fast offerings before because they couldn’t walk to members’ homes—the distance was too great, and we were concerned about their safety.
As a committee we came up with a plan as we discussed how we might overcome these obstacles. The elders quorum agreed to assign brethren to take the young men to several homes on the Saturday before each fast Sunday. We split the ward into areas and assigned each companionship to visit a few active families and a few less-active families. We realized that our plan would be a good opportunity for the brethren to get to know the youth and for the youth to receive counsel from the elders.
When we presented the plan to the young men, they were eager to try it. We reminded them to wear Sunday clothes and that this was part of their sacred responsibility to watch over the ward.
I was assigned to take my younger brother, Andrew. The following Saturday we visited everyone on our list, but most people weren’t home. The last member we visited was Brother John, whom we didn’t know well.
Andrew got out of the car, knocked on the door, and waited. He was just about to return to the car when the door opened. Andrew shook Brother John’s hand and said, “Hello, my name is Andrew, and I’m from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Tomorrow is fast Sunday, and the bishop has asked us to visit members to receive any fast-offering donations they wish to make.”
He handed Brother John an envelope. Brother John was surprised, but he walked inside with the envelope. After a few minutes he emerged from the house with a smile. He politely thanked Andrew and handed the envelope to him. I got out of the car, and we three chatted for a while. As we were leaving, Brother John waved good-bye and said, “Make sure you come next month.” Andrew was excited all the way back to the chapel, where we turned in our envelopes to a member of the bishopric.
The next month we made sure to visit Brother John. Again he was friendly. After a few months he began attending church on fast Sunday. Our Saturday visits reminded him of his Sunday meetings, and he would come the next day.
We were excited when Brother John became active in the Church. We felt a special bond with him. Words cannot express the joy that came to us because one soul had returned to the fold. Within a few months, he was attending regularly, and soon he was called to serve in the elders quorum presidency.
For us, the highlight of this experience came when Brother John was asked to speak in sacrament meeting about tithes and offerings. At the end of his talk he spoke about Andrew’s first visit.
With moistened eyes he said: “Andrew, you will never know the impact you had on my life that Saturday morning when you came to my door with that blue envelope. You may have thought it was a waste of time, but blessings came into my life because you provided me with an opportunity to pay my fast offering. Your service is one reason I am here today.”

Her reading in various languages has expanded her vocabulary. “When I come to a word I don’t know, I look it up. Soon I get tired of looking it up, so I memorize it,” she explains. Her study of languages has also helped in her schoolwork. Last year, at 17, Clara became the top public school graduate on her island.

I remember when I was fourteen and had many of those same feelings of doubt and insecurity, and I was wondering what I was to do with my life. My mother would say to me: “You can be anything in life you want to be, Elaine, if you work for it.”
I’m a long way from fourteen, but I’ve learned that she was right. Your life at fourteen or sixteen is much different than mine was. You are living in a computer and space age. I still use a pencil and marvel at a satellite launch. The world is so different, but the principles taught to me by my mother are the same.

In all of the arts the creative person will find his way to attract a clientele. He will make his way up the ladder, step by step. And, he will begin with step one, which is to learn fundamentals and do them exceedingly well. Those who want to start at the top and climb from there usually miss the next step and fall to the bottom. Experienced professionals don’t make this mistake. I once invited a top Hollywood actor to take a leading role in a large theatrical I was producing, and he declined, saying, “If I leave here, there are 10,000 who want my next assignment, and when I return, I can expect to start again at the end of the line.” Those who paint a rosy picture of a swift ascent to stardom usually deceive rather than inform.

On one occasion he attended a meeting where President Joseph F. Smith spoke on the subject, “The Third and Fourth Generations.” Brother Stephens had taught music to youth nearly all of his life and was impressed with the counsel given by President Smith to these third and fourth generation Latter-day Saints.
At the close of the service, Brother Stephens, a great lover of nature, strolled alone up City Creek Canyon, pondering the inspired words of President Smith. Sitting by the banks of a stream, he observed how the rock he was resting on remained firm despite the pressure of the rushing waters. As they came rapidly to his mind, he wrote the words of the stirring song “True to the Faith.”
“Shall the youth of Zion falter in defending truth and right? … No! True to the faith … Soul, heart, and hand, Faithful and true we will ever stand.”
Then ruling off a few staves of music on a piece of paper, he composed the music. The song was first sung at the general Sunday School conference in 1905, and on the original copy was written, “Lovingly dedicated to my 20,000 pupils of Zion. Evan Stephens.” (Pyper, p. 118; Cornwall, p. 173.)
SONG: “Shall the Youth of Zion Falter?” (Hymns, p. 157.)

On another trip to Africa I discussed this experience with a game ranger in another park. He assured me that you can indeed hide a crocodile in an elephant track—one big enough to bite a man in two.
He then showed me a place where a tragedy had occurred. A young man from England was working in the hotel for the season. In spite of constant and repeated warnings, he went through the compound fence to check something across a shallow splash of water that didn’t cover his tennis shoes.
“He wasn’t two steps in,” the ranger said, “before a crocodile had him, and we could do nothing to save him.”

The Bravest Dog Ever It was 30° below 0° F (-34° C) in Alaska, and a blizzard was raging. But if the sled dogs couldn’t get needed medicine to Nome, the people there would die. This beginning-to-read story is true.Natalie Standiford6–8 years

On August 21 of this year, two rare events occurred that captured the attention of people around the world. The first was the 90th birthday celebration of our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson. At the time, I was on assignment in the Pacific Area and was thrilled that the Saints of Australia, Vanuatu, New Zealand, and French Polynesia were not only aware of his personal milestone, but they also rejoiced in celebrating it. I felt fortunate to share in their warm expressions of faith and love for this great man. What an inspiration it is to see the connection Latter-day Saints share with their prophet.
Of course, President Monson, mindful of those desiring to wish him happy birthday, described an ideal birthday gift: “Find someone who is having a hard time or is ill or lonely and do something for them. That’s all I would ask.”1 We love and sustain you, President Monson.

Ashley P., 16, attended church in another faith for the first six or seven years of her life. Then her parents stopped going. Still, they taught her about Heavenly Father and the power of prayer, so she grew up believing in God. Throughout her early teen years, she attended various worship services with friends.
Just before her sophomore year of high school, Ashley was struggling, so she looked for answers through prayer. “I prayed that I would be able to be happy in high school. I asked Heavenly Father, ‘Please help me find something that will make me truly happy.’”
Within a few weeks, she started to get to know a classmate, Katie J., in orchestra class. Because they shared a music stand, talking happened easily.
“One day after school in the orchestra room, several of us started talking about our faith,” recalls Katie. “Religion is a big thing for a lot of kids in orchestra—most of the kids have strong beliefs and high standards, so those kinds of discussions happen a lot. Talking about the Church wasn’t scary for that reason—people are open to other people’s opinions and are generally accepting.”
“Katie started telling us about her church,” Ashley recalls. “I asked her a lot of questions after that discussion, and she suggested I go with her to church. And I found that I really wanted to.”
A few days later, Katie told Ashley about the Book of Mormon and showed her a copy. She had written her testimony in it and told Ashley she wanted to give it to someone, but she wasn’t sure whom. “I wanted that book,” says Ashley, smiling. “But I didn’t want to just come out and say, ‘Can I have that?’ As it turned out, she gave it to me a few days later.”
Shortly after that, Katie repeated her invitation to Ashley to attend church with her and her family, and Ashley accepted. That pattern continued for the next two months. “I loved church!” says Ashley. “I loved that families worshipped together—sacrament meeting was for both parents and children. That is what church should be about—being there with your family.
“But I also loved that there were lessons specifically for different groups. Young Women strengthened me so much—I felt so accepted by the young women there. I have made lifelong friends.”
In time, Ashley began meeting with the missionaries. “I had questions about things I had wondered about since I was a kid,” Ashley says. “The missionaries answered my questions perfectly, especially when it came to the plan of salvation. It all made sense. And as I prayed about it, I got answers.”
Although Ashley’s parents initially asked her to wait until she was 18 to be baptized, they later told her that if she really felt that she needed to be baptized, she could. Shortly after that, her family began praying together at dinnertime. And a month after Ashley’s baptism in June 2010, her brother, Josh, was baptized. The whole family even joined in one of his meetings with the missionaries. “My family situation regarding the Church totally flipped,” Ashley says.
“I have learned that Heavenly Father will bless us and help us if what we want is righteous,” Ashley says. In addition to helping her find good friends and true happiness, she says, “He helps me with other things too. I pray every day, and He always finds ways to comfort and bless each of us.”
Ashley points out that sometimes that comfort and those blessings come through other people, as they came to her through Katie. “You never know who you are going to touch spiritually,” she says. “Don’t be afraid to try. You never know if they are struggling with something hard in their life. They might really need to hear your testimony or learn about the Church. Don’t hold it in.”
Katie agrees. “If you feel a prompting to say something, don’t doubt it—go for it! If you doubt your testimony, people will see that. But if you are an example of what you believe in, they’ll see that too.
“Take the opportunities you find,” she continues. “If there is a religious discussion at school, you don’t want to miss that kind of chance. Be open and honest about what you believe in. Explain it to the best of your ability. It can change your life—and the life of a friend.”

Some years ago a brilliant and highly educated young woman spoke in Berchtesgaden, Germany, to a conference of military personnel who were members of the Church. I was there and heard her. She was a major in the army, a medical doctor, a highly respected specialist in her field. She said:
“More than anything else in the world I wanted to serve God. But try as I might I could not find him. The miracle of it all is that he found me. One Saturday afternoon in September 1969 I was at home in Berkeley, California, and heard my doorbell ring. There were two young men there, dressed in suits, with white shirts and ties. Their hair was neatly combed. I was so impressed with them that I said: `I don’t know what you’re selling, but I’ll buy it.’ One of the young men said: `We aren’t selling anything. We’re missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and we would like to talk with you.’ I invited them to come in, and they spoke about their faith.
“This was the beginning of my testimony. I am thankful beyond words for the privilege and honor of being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The joy and peace this glad gospel has brought to my heart is heaven on earth. My testimony of this work is the most precious thing in my life, a gift from my Heavenly Father, for which I will be eternally thankful.”

Occasionally bad weather would interrupt those outdoor services, and both the speakers and congregation were uncomfortable. President Joseph F. Smith, who remembered well the discomfort of those outdoor meetings held near the temple in Nauvoo, said:
“My first recollection of a place of worship was in Nauvoo. It was in a little grove of trees near the site of the temple. In company with my mother I listened here to such men as Brigham Young, Heber C. Kimball, Orson Hyde, Parley P. Pratt, Orson Pratt, the Prophet Joseph and the Patriarch Hyrum. I remember quite well attending one meeting in this grove, that a wagon had been drawn up in front of the audience and the Prophet Joseph stood in the box speaking, when it began to rain. Some one or two persons got up and held umbrellas over him, to shield him from the wet. Many of the people had no umbrellas, and it was very annoying and disagreeable to sit there, but I remember very well, though but a little boy, that there was no one went away from the ground while he spoke.”

Around the turn of the previous century, two missionaries were laboring in the mountains of the southern United States. One day, from a hilltop, they saw people gathering in a clearing far below. The missionaries did not often have many people to whom they might preach, so they made their way down to the clearing.
A little boy had drowned, and there was to be a funeral. His parents had sent for the minister to “say words” over their son. The missionaries stood back as the itinerant minister faced the grieving father and mother and began his sermon. If the parents expected to receive comfort from this man of the cloth, they would be disappointed.
He scolded them severely for not having had the little boy baptized. They had put it off because of one thing or another, and now it was too late. He told them very bluntly that their little boy had gone to hell. It was their fault. They were to blame for his endless torment.
After the sermon was over and the grave was covered, the elders approached the grieving parents. “We are servants of the Lord,” they told the mother, “and we have come with a message for you.” As the sobbing parents listened, the two elders read from the revelations and bore their testimony of the restoration of the keys for the redemption of both the living and the dead.
I have some sympathy for that preacher. He was doing the best he could with such light and knowledge as he had. But there is more that he should have been able to offer. There is the fulness of the gospel.
The elders came as comforters, as teachers, as servants of the Lord, as authorized ministers of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

For example, on Christmas morning in 1925, three men walked down to the river’s edge in a park in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Most of the city was probably still sleeping late on a holiday. But these men had left their families behind and spent 21 days on a steamship to get here. Elder Melvin J. Ballard, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, had been sent by President Heber J. Grant to dedicate the entire continent of South America for the preaching of the gospel.
So while the rest of the city still slept, Elder Ballard entered a willow grove with Elder Rulon S. Wells and Elder Rey L. Pratt. They sang hymns and read from the Book of Mormon. Then Elder Ballard offered a prayer, using his apostolic authority to “unlock and open the door for the preaching of the gospel in all these South American nations.” From that time on, like a stone tossed into a pond, the ripples of the gospel message spread outward across a continent.
Since Elder Ballard’s visit to Buenos Aires, Church membership in South America has grown from less than a dozen to more than a million. Tens of thousands more are joining every year. There is an increasing number of LDS chapels, and temples have begun to dot the land.
That’s why seminary graduation time in Buenos Aires isn’t just another weekend. When Elder Ballard offered his powerful prayer in that willow grove nearly 70 years ago, he asked the Lord to “remember in mercy … the youth of thy Church who are to bear the responsibilities of the future, that they may keep themselves clean … and come to their glorious destiny.” For the LDS youth in Argentina, seminary has been one of the most direct answers to that prayer.

It might not always be that easy to get your parents to listen to you. Sometimes emotion can interfere with the communication. If either one of you is upset, the lines of communication break down rapidly. “Whenever I ask my dad about getting my driver’s license,” one high school student once told me, “he just gets angry.”
“And what do you do when he gets angry?” I asked her.
“I get angry right back. Then we have a big argument all over again.”

We have the family, and I would like to refer for just a moment to my own family. I was fortunate enough to have my father as my bishop all the time I was in the Aaronic Priesthood. When he was interviewing me, I didn’t know if he was interviewing me as a father or as a bishop, but he interviewed me, and he told me how important the priesthood was and what was necessary for me to do to be worthy of that priesthood. He was the best friend I had, and I think every bishop should be the best friend a boy has outside of his family. He should know that the bishop is trying to help him to live worthy and prepare himself for the great blessings promised by the Lord to those who will keep the covenants and live according to the teachings of the gospel. It’s wonderful to live in a home where the father is exemplary, where the influence is good, where regular family home evenings are held.