Gospel Story Finder

Just two months ago we said farewell to our dear friend and leader Gordon B. Hinckley, the 15th President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, an outstanding ambassador of truth to the entire world and beloved of all. We miss him. More than 53,000 men, women, and children journeyed to the beautiful Hall of the Prophets in this very building to pay their last respects to this giant of the Lord, who now belongs to the ages.
With the passing of President Hinckley, the First Presidency was dissolved. President Eyring and I, who served as counselors to President Hinckley, returned to our places in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and that quorum became the presiding authority of the Church.
On Saturday, February 2, 2008, funeral services for President Hinckley were held in this magnificent Conference Center—a building which will ever stand as a monument to his foresight and vision. During the funeral, beautiful and loving tributes were paid to this man of God.
The following day, all 14 ordained Apostles living on the earth assembled in an upper room of the Salt Lake Temple. We met in a spirit of fasting and prayer. During that solemn and sacred gathering, the Presidency of the Church was reorganized in accordance with well-established precedent, after the pattern which the Lord Himself put in place.
Members of the Church around the world convened yesterday in a solemn assembly. You raised your hands in a sustaining vote to approve the action which was taken in that meeting in the temple to which I have just referred. As your hands were raised toward heaven, my heart was touched. I felt your love and support, as well as your commitment to the Lord.

Around the world President McKay was regarded as an important spiritual leader. During a visit with the Queen of the Netherlands in 1952, President and Sister McKay were invited to have tea. When the McKays declined for religious reasons, the queen asked, “Do you mean to tell me you won’t have a little drink of tea, even with the Queen of the Netherlands?” President McKay responded, “Would [you] ask the leader of a million, three hundred thousand people to do something that he teaches his people not to do?” She replied, “You are a great man, President McKay. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”19

I remember the story of one of our LDS chaplains, a man of great faith, devotion, and courage. For a year or more he had been in the central highlands of South Vietnam during the war there. …
He was not always a member of this Church. As a boy in the southern U.S. he grew up in a religious home where the Bible was read and where the family attended the little church of the community. He desired the gift of the Holy Ghost of which he had read in the scriptures but was told that it was not available. The desire never left him. He grew to manhood. He served in the U.S. Army. He searched but never found the thing he most wanted. Between military enlistments, he became a prison guard. While sitting in the gun tower of a California prison, he meditated on his own deficiencies and prayed to the Lord that he might receive the Holy Ghost and satisfy the hunger which he felt in his soul. That hunger had not been fully satisfied with sermons to which he had listened.
One day two young men knocked at his door. His wife invited them to return when her husband would be at home. These two young men taught that family by the Holy Spirit and they were baptized. I have heard this man testify to the effect that as he was taught by the power of the Holy Spirit, he was edified and rejoiced with those who taught him. Out of that marvelous beginning, with the gift of the Holy Ghost, came a shedding forth of light and truth that gave peace to the dying, comfort to the bereaved, blessings to the wounded, courage to the timid, and faith to those who had scoffed.1

His colleague Elder Neal A. Maxwell has said of him, “President Howard W. Hunter is a meek man. He once refused a job he needed as a young man because it would have meant another individual would have lost his job. This is the same lowly man, when I awakened after a weary and dusty day together with him on assignment in Egypt, who was quietly shining my shoes, a task he had hoped to complete unseen. Meekness can be present in the daily and ordinary things.”

I’d like to thank the New Era for printing “Try to Remember” in the April 1990 issue. I have to admit I was slipping from the Church standards and this article gave me a real boost. Thanks for the inspiration.
Janet SavageBuhl, Idaho

Emma, Riley, and Logan enjoyed doing service as a family at their church parking lot. They worked with their parents to clean up the gutter and sidewalk, which were littered with dirt, rocks, garbage, and pine needles. The children helped sweep, shovel, and empty the trash. They liked seeing how clean it looked when they were done.

To study the Texas plan, he organized “a municipal department of the Kingdom,” known as the General Council, or Council of Fifty. It was a secular committee of about fifty men designed to relieve the First Presidency and the Twelve of many temporal duties, to work with Congress in ensuring Mormon civil rights and to find appropriate settlement sites.
The Council of Fifty sponsored Joseph Smith as a candidate for the presidency of the United States in 1844, and managed his campaign. He declared his candidacy on a union platform combining popular ideas from both national parties. The Prophet hoped to offer American voters a presidency above politics, and outlined his views in a pamphlet titled Views of the Powers and Policy of the Government of the United States, written with the assistance of William W. Phelps.
Although Joseph Smith was running as a citizen without Church sponsorship, the machinery of church government worked for his election. April conference speakers endorsed the candidacy and three hundred volunteers agreed to campaign actively throughout the nation. Sidney Rigdon, first counselor in the First Presidency, was named vice-presidential candidate for the political party known as the National Reform Party. The party scheduled its national convention for Baltimore, Maryland, in mid-July 1844, but the gathering was never convened. The disaffection of John C. Bennett and his cooperation with other opponents of the Prophet in Illinois stopped Joseph Smith’s search for political and religious refuge and ended his brief career in martyrdom.

Case 4. Three plump young ladies had barely begun their attack on a table laden with yummy junk food when suddenly the feast vanished right before their eyes. Nearby three guardian angels looked suspiciously smug.
After the opening prayer, the projectionist hit the switch, and the evening was awash in cheers, laughter, and even a few friendly groans. Poor Cindy Ella, outcast because of her curly hair, did get to the governor’s ball (thanks to her fairy godperson) and fell in love with the governor’s curly headed son. A new banana eating record was set. The three junk food junkies did lose weight. The missionaries did keep tracting. Fun triumphed again. All seven wards had come up with their own idea of what the silver screen is all about, and all were pretty proud of what they had done.

Catalina Island—one thinks of boating and beaches and clambakes and sunbathing. But the vacation island played quite a different sort of role recently when it served as the backdrop for the North Hollywood California Stake Youth Conference.
The conference involved 290 young people, leaders, stake officials, and special guests in three days of spiritual seminars and just plain fun.
At a place on the island called Camp Fox, the stake housed itself in cabins and campsites named for books in the Bible. The camp itself became a sort of mini-community for the three days of the conference, including in its organization a dining hall, hospital, and a general store. “Professional” citizens included an official photographer, nurse, and lifeguard.
The tightly organized and well-run conference resulted from the careful planning of a seven member stake youth conference steering committee, which performed under the advisement of the stake Aaronic Priesthood MIA leaders.
“Who am I?”, “Whence came I?” and “Where am I going?” were the seminar themes of the conference. Each of the three special guest speakers focused on one of the important identity questions.
The conference weekend had its light-hearted moments, too. A concert called “Avalon Avalanche” featured the talents of local BYU alumni and the “Camp Fox Trot” dance the following night coaxed participants into best “duds.”
On Sunday morning a fast and testimony meeting was held in the amphitheater of the camp. That morning the young people bore testimonies of gratitude for their three days together on Catalina.

There’s no doubt about it. Moving can be tough on teenagers. It was a challenge for priests Andrew and Jared Mackaroy (here with their older brother, younger sister, and younger brother), who moved with their family from South Africa to New Zealand.
If it weren’t for the Church, they don’t know how they could ever have successfully made the move. “Seminary, the Church meetings and programs, even the New Era—they’re all the same all over the world,” says Jared.

Nataya Boonmaad and Warangkhana Damnad are the only two LDS students in their high school of 3,000 in Mahasarakham, Thailand. But that doesn’t slow them down when they want to be examples.
Nataya was elected student-body president. She was also chosen to represent her school at a provincewide speech contest. Nataya chose to speak on the Word of Wisdom and received top honors as outstanding speaker in the competition.
Warangkhana was one of two students in the province chosen to be a foreign exchange student. She was also an excellent basketball player, and one of the most outstanding students of English in the school.
Both girls are members of the Mahasarakham Branch, Thailand Bangkok Mission.

I’m reminded of something I read just the other day. Let me share it with you. It seems that a small boy was trying to lift a heavy stone, but couldn’t budge it. His father, watching very interestedly, said, “Are you sure you’re using all of your strength?”
“Yes, I am!” the boy cried.
“No, you’re not,” said the father. “You haven’t asked me to help you.”

Two boys in the Olathe Second Ward, Olathe Kansas Stake, recently completed unusual projects in order to earn their Eagle Scout Awards.
After visiting the Haun’s Mill Massacre Site in Caldwell County, Missouri, David Shumway wanted to do something to honor and remember the 17 Church members who were killed there in 1838. He hung signs so that visitors could find the site, and he organized the Scouts in his ward in beautifying the area around the historical marker.

Singing Their Testimonies
About 60 children sang with their families in the Saturday afternoon session of conference. Croydon D., age 8, wrote about this special experience in his journal:
“When it was almost time to start, everything quickly went silent as President Monson and his two counselors walked in. You could tell the Spirit was there. I looked at my Mom, and her eyes were watering. It was pretty neat to see President Monson right in front of me.”

The missionaries down in Samoa didn’t have a president for a few months. I was the president, but by remote control. I used to go to a Chinese man’s home in Honolulu and tell him to tune in one of our natives down in Samoa, then tell that native to round up all the missionaries and have them come there, as I wanted to give them some instruction. So he’d tune in down there and get this young Samoan with his ham radio, and I’d sit there in that Chinese home and talk to those missionaries down in Samoa and give whatever instructions I wanted to give them. …

A small green lizard darted in and out of the crevices in the crumbling old stone pier that jutted out into the Red Sea. The hot, glaring desert sun made its body glisten. The lizard stopped suddenly, and its yellow eyes watched Abu Ibn (son of) Hassan putting his catch of five fish into the net bags that had been slung over the sides of his donkey. He had caught three kanad, a type of mackerel, and two small hamur, which looked like sea bass.
Abu hoped these fish would help his father get more money at the suq (marketplace) in town ten miles across the Saudi Arabian desert.
For a few moments Abu stood beside his donkey and listened to the tinkling sound of small bells coming from the village, a tiny gathering of stone houses for fifty-two fishermen and their families. Every family owned a donkey, and every donkey except Abu’s had a bell on a thong tied around its neck. Abu’s father had a large family to feed. There never was any extra money for a bell. Abu dreamed of the day when his father would sail home with his dhow (boat) stacked high with fish. Then there would be money for a bell—maybe even a brass bell.
When Abu arrived home, his mother and sisters were full of news.
“We have a new fisherman in the village,” his mother told him.
“He owns a camel,” one of his sisters said.
“Yes, he must be rich!” another sister added. “His name is Rathman, and he is building a house. He doesn’t seem to have any family, but his new house will be bigger than any around here. He brought men from the town to help him.”
Abu ran outside and kept running until he came to where the new house was being built. The workmen were already putting up the walls. The floor would be dirt, and the roof would be made of thatched date palm leaves.
“Is-salaam alaykum (Peace be upon you),” Abu greeted one of the workmen.
“Wa-alaykum is salaam (And upon you be peace),” the workman answered.
Abu was impressed with the size of the new house. He was about to step inside when a harsh voice shouted, “Boy, get to where you belong! Don’t bother the workmen!”
Abu turned and met the angry eyes of Rathman. He had a great hooked nose, a thin-lipped mouth, and his legs and arms looked like old, dried sticks. Abu ran for home. His tobe (a long, shirt-like garment) hindered him, so he pulled it above his knees. His red kaffiyeh (headdress) fell off, but he didn’t stop to pick it up.
It was weeks before the excitement caused by the coming of the new fisherman subsided. Rathman’s dhow was the largest at the stone pier. His camel delivered his fish to the suq earlier and fresher than anyone else’s fish. It was learned that he was a friend of the sheikh (leader of the tribe) who lived in the big town.
Unlike the bells on the donkeys, which rang together and sounded like music in the village, the bell on Rathman’s camel was large, and it clanked and clunked when the beast moved. The camel held its head high, as though it was too proud to look at the lowly donkeys. Each time the fish were taken to the market, the camel would race past the donkeys, carrying not only a bigger load of fish but also Rathman on its back. The donkeys would have to plod along, trying to avoid the sandy dust that the camel kicked up. The fishermen walking beside their little animals would have to listen to Rathman’s mocking laughter.
At the pier, Rathman crowded his fishing dhow into the best place. He walked around the village as though he were a sheikh himself.
One evening Abu’s father told his family some bad news. “Rathman has ordered that the bells be taken off all the donkeys.”
“Why?” Abu’s mother asked.
“He said that the sound of our donkey bells keeps him from hearing his camel bell,” Abu’s father explained.
“But, Father, the men are not going to do it, are they?” Abu asked.
“They must,” his father said, “or Rathman may go to the sheikh, and the sheikh could punish us.”
The next day the bells were taken off the donkeys. The village was a sad and silent place. For weeks nobody sang or laughed. All that could be heard was the ugly sound of the camel’s big clanking and clunking bell.
Then one day after Rathman took his fish to the suq, he was late getting back to the village. The people saw him walking home across the desert without his camel.
One of the fishermen found enough courage to ask what had happened. Later he told Abu’s father, “Rathman’s camel stepped on a stone and fell. It strained a muscle and refuses to move.” The fisherman started laughing. “Rathman smells awful. The camel got angry and spat on him!”
All the villagers treated Rathman’s trouble as a big joke. Rathman stayed in his house, but he could hear the people laughing. Nobody offered to help him.
Abu felt sorry for him and spoke to his father about it. “Shouldn’t we try to help Rathman get his camel back to the village?”
“After the way he has treated us?” his father asked.
“But we are taught to be good to our enemies,” Abu said.
His father looked at him with a worried frown, then walked away.
Early the next morning Abu loaded his donkey with a bag of water and a bag of hamdh bushes for the camel. A few villagers looked curiously at the goatskin bags as Abu started through the village.
There were no dunes between the village and the town. At this time of the year the flat sand was abloom with zahra hamra, a beautiful pink flower. Abu enjoyed walking among the blooms while looking for Rathman’s camel. When he found the injured animal, Rathman was sitting beside it. The man didn’t speak to Abu, even when the boy started to feed and water the camel.
Suddenly Abu saw a long line of donkeys coming toward them from the village. When the fishermen and the donkeys arrived, Abu saw that the donkeys were hitched together and that they carried ropes and an old dhow sail.
“I told the men what you said—about being good to our enemies,” Abu’s father told him.
After tying the camel’s legs together, the men maneuvered it onto the sail and dragged it back to the village.
Rathman didn’t thank them, and the fishermen grumbled a little. Then, a week later, they found a small basket full of new donkey bells in the middle of the street. On top was a solid, shining brass bell marked, “For Abu.”

Later, as President of the Church, he dedicated the place where the Laie Hawaii Temple was built.

Slight pressure
“no”
had stirred my know.
But was it really really no?
Perhaps I need
to think it out,
to listen for a louder shout.
There are others
doing such.
And anyway
an if and but
might very well apply
to me,
because,
because,
well, I am me.
And circumstances
are so twined,
and maybe I have been assigned
a very special
set of rules
that—
What!
A sound?
A flashing light?
Some further word on what is right?
Hmmm …
Neon “NO” and clanging bell.
Well, sometimes
words can get misspelled.
I’d really better
think this out.
There’s so much room
for so much doubt.

“ARE WEN EHT: One of the greatest features of all time! In just one feature you get inspirational messages, comic episodes, true-life adventures, and much more. Come see for yourself. Plays as many times each night as you would like. 40¢ admission, or $4 for 12 months. Rated Y for youth.”
If that information doesn’t sound quite like what should go on a theater marquee, it’s because it’s not. It’s a bulletin board poster in a seminary classroom in Provo, Utah. ARE WEN EHT is, of course, THE NEW ERA spelled backwards, and it’s part of a program by student leaders of the Utah Valley Seminary District to encourage New Era readership. Their goal is to inspire every seminary student to read every issue of the New Era, and they work hard to make it happen.
A student is called each year to coordinate the program for the whole district. A student is called in each of the 16 seminaries in the district as coordinator of the program in that seminary, and a representative is called in each class. In each seminary one devotional each month is set aside to promote the New Era through skits, talks, games, contests, and whatever else youthful ingenuity can devise. New Era bowls are held regularly, and some classes have quizzes, with prizes for the winners.
The bulletin boards and walls abound in New-Era-plugging posters that are changed regularly to feature the latest articles. Other things are more constant. When you sharpen your pencil, you’re almost sure to see a little sign that advises you to “Be Sharp: Read the New Era.” Under the light switch you’ll read, “See the Light: Read the New Era.” If you play the piano, you’ll notice a little poster that suggests, “Stay in Tune: Read the New Era.” And on the face of the clock? You guessed it: “Isn’t It Time You Read the New Era?”
The coordinators and representatives know how to use the personal touch too. One of them called up all the students in her class and said, “I’ll be calling your home between 4:00 and 5:00 this afternoon, and if you’re reading the New Era when I call, I’ll have a prize for you.” The prizes turned out to cost only a few cents each, but by then the students had discovered that the magazine itself was prize enough. Another student passed out some bubblegum with notes that said, “Stick to the New Era.” Still another taped a Dragnet takeoff in which someone stole her New Era, and she used the articles as clues to track him down when he made the mistake of reading what he had stolen. Not a day passes without every student being reminded in one way or another to read the New Era.
The New Era representatives cooperate with ward magazine representatives to make sure that students are subscribing, but they feel that any student who can be talked into reading the New Era a few times will automatically want a copy of his own, so they aim their efforts at just getting people to read.
Everybody likes friends, and the New Era is glad to have some in Utah Valley.

All of the Cheadle children have names with special meaning for them. Joseph was named for the Prophet Joseph Smith, and Jacob for Nephi’s brother Jacob in the Book of Mormon. Rachel is named for Rachel in the Bible, and Sariah for Lehi’s wife. Although Ruth’s name is in the Bible, she was named for her great-great-grandmother, Ruth Blood, who is still living. Sister Cheadle was in the Chicago Illinois Temple, and she read in Alma 3:6 about “Nephi, Jacob, and Joseph, and Sam, who were just and holy men.” That is why their baby, Samuel, is called Sam. His parents want him and Jacob and all their children to be “just and holy” men and women.

“We wanted to name them for someone they could look up to,” Brother Cheadle said.