Gospel Story Finder

Aaronic Priesthood bearers from five stakes left a priceless gift to future generations of Washington State residents. They donated over 6,000 hours of labor to help build a 220-acre park in the quiet valley of the Snoqualmie and Tolt Rivers near Carnation, Washington. The more than 1,500 young Latter-day Saints and their leaders were among 20,000 Scouts from the area who worked with the United States Army, the Canadian Army, and Washington State officials in the largest youth Bicentennial project in the United States, the John MacDonald Memorial Park.
The young men from Bremerton, Renton, Seattle, Seattle East, and Seattle North stakes pitched tents among the dense fir trees and lived almost like pioneers for five consecutive weekends. They carried logs for shelters, cleared and raked meeting areas, built picnic tables, and nailed ramp separators for the suspension bridge that connects the two areas of the park. When they were finished, there were 40 hike-in campsites, hundreds of picnic tables, many log shelters, several rest room facilities, and five miles of trails through the park. “They were just ecstatic for the chance to do something permanent,” explained one leader. “They were busy every minute.”
They were tired, but happy Scouts who proudly carried their flag in the parade that marked the opening of the park several weeks later. All the town of Carnation and visitors from throughout the country gathered to watch as the Renton Second Ward Cub Scout pack led the parade through the small town and into the park.
“This park … is an honored tribute to our past. Scouts of today and tomorrow will use this beautiful land to learn … of yesterday’s greatness and tomorrow’s promises. The park will reinforce our customary spirit of using the heart, mind, and hands to live sensibly with nature’s rivers, forests, meadows, and mountains,” reads a plaque on display at the Memorial. These are the words of the man who was the inspiration behind the park, John M. MacDonald, a longtime volunteer leader with the Chief Seattle Council.
The proud smiles of the young men as they marched in the parade showed the plaque’s words coming true.

Illustration by Allen Garns
My father, a devout Christian, taught me to have faith in Jesus Christ. That faith helped me survive Nigeria’s three-year civil war in the late 1960s when I was in the army. Later, however, I became confused and quit attending church.
When I came to the United States in 1981 to get an education, I felt that I needed God in my life. For two years I attended different churches in Boston, Massachusetts, but none of them appealed to me. I didn’t feel the Spirit, so I stopped looking.
Not long after my wife, Mabel, joined me from Nigeria in 1984, I started having a burning desire to again draw closer to God and belong to a church. A friend visiting from Nigeria didn’t know I was looking for a church, but he told me about a church he had heard of that had a book called the Book of Mormon.
After that, I continued looking for churches. I found a church called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The word saint caught my attention. I didn’t know there was a church with members called saints. That Sunday I decided to check it out.
At the sacrament meeting I attended, the congregation sang hymns in a reverent manner, priests blessed bread and water, and the service was conducted in order and humility. Afterward, as I walked to the foyer and contemplated the service, I heard my name.
“Simeon,” the voice of the Spirit said, “this is the place.”
At that point, two missionaries approached. They introduced themselves and the Book of Mormon. I looked at them and said, “I don’t know anything about the Book of Mormon, but I know the Bible. I am ready.”
They began teaching me the plan of salvation. Less than a month later, I was baptized. My wife joined the Church a short while later. A few years after that, we were sealed in the Washington D.C. Temple and our five children were sealed to us.
In the temple, many things have been revealed to me, but the words I heard my first day at church have been confirmed to me many times through revelation in the temple: “This is the place.” The impact of that statement from the Holy Ghost has forever changed my life and the lives of my wife and children.

Fifteen-year-old Carol never seems to have a good word to say about anyone. Her teachers are “stupid”; kids in the neighborhood are “weird”; and her parents “never listen to me” and “don’t understand me.” The words stupid, idiot, and boring dot her vocabulary continually. Because of her negative attitude, other children avoid her; she is very much a loner.
How does Carol feel about herself? Her negative view of others and of her world may be a reflection of her own poor self-concept. And her speech and poor attitudes invite criticism and rejection, further deflating her already low self-esteem.

On the isle of Odense, which is famous as the birthplace of Hans Christian Andersen, Trine and Steen Kreiberg were, respectively, ages three and two when the missionaries came to their door. Their parents, Finn and Inge, were baptized, and the family was later sealed in the temple. Now, Steen, who served a mission in Oregon, and Trine have each married in the temple themselves. Trine’s husband is a returned missionary who served in San Antonio, Texas, and is now a banker in Odense. And Steen’s wife, Lone, is the granddaughter of the Århus stake patriarch, Verner Buur.

2. Be Your Own Kind of Beautiful
The original idea was to have a single lily among a vase of roses. But a lily seemed too elegant to convey the intended message. A daisy was better—a symbol of the beauty in the ordinary.

“He always says how much he loves his work and the Lord. During family home evenings he sometimes tells us of his experiences that tie in with the lesson. He told us once that when he was a little boy and couldn’t find his best shoes on Sunday, he wore a pair of nurse’s shoes so he wouldn’t have to miss Sunday School.

Not only have the youth learned to appreciate service at The Ranch; they have had fun at the same time. For example, Jeff Eastwood, 18, earned the distinction of being the first one thrown in the lake. With a smile on his face, he’ll tell you that he really jumped in. On the serious side, he said he’s learned an important lesson by participating in youth conference. Jeff said he is grateful that his parents attended, too. “I’ve learned to live with adults in a different environment. My parents are interacting with my friends, and I’ve learned to act the same way in front of my family as I do in front of my friends. I’m being myself.”

I remember a sister who was baptized in Kasavubu Ward where I was a member about 20 years ago. One day, while attending one of the sisters’ activities, I was surprised to hear her giving her testimony saying that it was thanks to me that she became strong in the Church because of my warm welcome and consideration for her.
Since I couldn’t remember exactly what I had done, I began to reflect on this very touching testimony. My conclusion is that we do not have to wait until we can do great things for the new people we meet among us. We can do the simple, friendly things.

After church on Sunday, Mom and I went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for dinner, Grandma gave me some photographs of her parents when they were children. I wanted to go home right then and put them in my family photo album. But Mom said, “Let’s help with the dishes and visit for a while.” Sometimes Mom says no.

The Prophet Joseph Smith had received some instruction regarding the organization of the Church, which we have by way of revelation as set forth in section 20 of the Doctrine and Covenants. Imagine—on April the 6th, 1830, in Fayette, New York, in the Peter Whitmer farmhouse—a meeting in that little log cabin, maybe 20 by 30 feet, where the Church was organized. Just imagine in that little setting, where he blessed Oliver and Oliver blessed him, as they followed the direction that they had received and the Church organization was presented to that little assembly.
Joseph and Oliver and Hyrum and Samuel Smith and the two Whitmers had been baptized and acted in order to be “agreeable to the laws” of New York (D&C 20:1). But just imagine as you run through your mind the spiritual setting in that assembly and the feeling that they must have had as the proposition was presented to them to sustain—what we have done here today—to sustain the Prophet and Oliver as the first elders, to set the Church in motion. Some of the diaries and the accounts of that occasion indicate they had the feeling of heavenly beings in that meeting.
Some were rebaptized. Some were baptized on that occasion for the first time, including the Prophet’s father and mother—just imagine! The sacrament was served for the first time in this dispensation in an official meeting of the Church, now organized. Imagine the feeling of the passing of the bread and the water, emblems of the torn flesh and the spilt blood of the Savior.

Early one pleasant Indian summer morning, Signe and Anna Walstad set out for school. They wore sunbonnets, plain gingham dresses, and no shoes. Everyone went barefoot to school in nice weather, except Teacher.
Usually Signe and Anna would swing their lunch pails as they covered the dusty two miles between their homestead and the schoolhouse. But today there was no racing down the slope or jumping over buffalo wallows or banging of pails, for today each pail held a big red apple for the girls to eat at noon.
“Your father had a little money left after buying the fencing—just enough to get each of you an apple,” Mama had explained as she carefully set an apple next to the bread and butter in each girl’s pail.
Signe’s mouth watered just thinking of the apple’s sweet crispness. She was tempted to eat hers right away, but as she stopped to open her pail, Anna gave her a cross look of disapproval. Anna was always disapproving of the things Signe wanted to do. Sighing just a little sigh, Signe put the cover back on her pail and contented herself by imagining how good the apple would taste at noon. She would eat it one small bite at a time, she decided, to make it last longer. Not one drop of juice would escape to dribble down her chin.
“Let’s play jackrabbits and prairie dogs,” Anna suggested, breaking into Signe’s pleasant daydream. “You take prairie dogs, and I’ll count jackrabbits.”
“All right,” Signe agreed. They often played this game to pass the time as they walked to and from school. Signe stared across the prairie, hoping to spot a prairie dog first. I hope that I beat her, Signe thought. I get tired of her always being better than I am at everything. Then Signe pointed excitedly. “Over there, Anna! That’s two for me.”
“Where?” Anna questioned the younger girl. “I don’t see anything.”
“They just disappeared down their hole.”
“I don’t believe you,” challenged Anna, tossing her golden curls.
“Come on, then, and I’ll show you.” Signe ran over to where she’d seen the two rodents disappear. “I’ll find the burrow.”
Anna followed reluctantly. “There are prairie dog holes everywhere. It doesn’t count unless I see the prairie dogs too.”
“Here it is. Right where I told you.” Signe turned triumphantly, but Anna had stopped in her tracks and was staring wide-eyed at the ground.
“What’s the matter—” Signe began. Then she spied the rattlesnake in the grass between them. The snake was coiled with its tail rattling a warning. Its head was raised toward Anna, who was paralyzed with fear.
Signe’s thoughts raced. It wasn’t a very big snake, but even the bite of a small rattler could be fatal. She had to act fast before the snake struck Anna.
Signe looked around for a weapon. An old fence post or board would do, but there wasn’t anything she could use. Her hand clutched her lunch pail tightly. Her pail! With all her strength, Signe brought the pail down hard on the snake’s head. The snake writhed in surprise, then turned toward Signe. It tried to bite her hand, but the pail acted as a shield. Signe hit the rattler again and again until it lay limp and harmless in the prairie grass.
“You killed it,” Anna said, daring to breathe again.
Signe couldn’t speak. She felt cold and weak. She could hardly believe that she’d killed a rattlesnake. She’d always been deathly afraid of snakes. Then she remembered her apple. She opened her pail, and her apple, now soft and bruised, rolled out into the prairie dust. Signe thought about how she had longed to eat the apple. It didn’t seem to matter now. All that mattered was that she and Anna were safe. She picked up the apple, wiped off the one place that was still firm, took a bite, and then tossed it toward the prairie dog burrows. They probably never get fresh fruit, either, she thought.
The girls didn’t speak as they continued on to school. Signe heard the meadowlarks greet the morning. A jackrabbit raced across the road ahead, but Anna didn’t bother counting it. Everything looked the same as before, but Signe felt different. She glanced at her sister and wondered if Anna felt different too.
Suddenly Anna stopped. She reached into her pail and brought out her unbruised apple. Carefully she polished it on the sleeve of her dress, then handed it to her younger sister. “Here,” she said. “You deserve this.”
Signe smiled as her fingers rubbed the smooth red skin of the apple. She took a bite of the juicy red apple, then, laughing, held it out to Anna. “How about sharing?”
Anna smiled, took a bite of the apple, and laughed as some of the sweet juice dribbled down her chin.

On a summer day in 1829, Joseph Smith walked into a red brick building in Palmyra, New York, where Mr. Egbert B. Grandin had a printing press. The Prophet had just finished translating the words on the gold plates, and he wanted Mr. Grandin to publish the first 5,000 copies of the Book of Mormon. By the next spring, the new book of scripture was printed and ready for people to read.

President Snow is well known for receiving a revelation on the law of tithing. For members of the Church in 1899, this revelation began with a bold declaration: “The time has now come for every Latter-day Saint, who calculates to be prepared for the future and to hold his feet strong upon a proper foundation, to do the will of the Lord and to pay his tithing in full. That is the word of the Lord to you.”7
Latter-day Saints responded faithfully to their prophet’s counsel, and the Lord blessed them individually and collectively as a result. The influence of that revelation continues today, as Church members all over the world receive spiritual and temporal blessings through obedience to the law of tithing. To read about the experience that led to this revelation and the blessings that followed it, see chapter 12.

Let us listen to part of a letter received by an anxious but grateful mother. Her seventeen-year-old daughter would be considered a troublemaker by those who have not learned to recognize a call for help:
““Dear Mom and Dad:
““I know I haven’t been much of a daughter. I really hope things can get better between us. Please don’t give up on me. Just because I don’t say I love you doesn’t mean I don’t. Please understand what I am trying to say. We’ll stay together and love each other through the worst and hardest times. We’ll make it ’cause we’re a family.”

The incident at the pond was just one of many times that Elder Wirthlin and his father learned from each other. He related the following incident too.
“Once, when I was about seven, Father gave me five dollars to buy some items at the hardware store about a mile away. When I came back, we accounted for the money and found that they had given me a dollar too much in change. Father said, ‘Whenever you purchase anything, make sure that you get the correct change back, and be especially careful that they do not give you too much change.’ He insisted that I immediately walk back and return the dollar, which I did. This was a great lesson in honesty and in promptness in correcting an error.

“It’s just not fair!” grumbled Jason at the close of family council. “Now I know I’ll never get a set of walkie-talkies for Christmas.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Jason,” Dad said with disappointment, “but the family has voted, and our decision stands. We will use most of our Christmas money to make gifts and buy supplies for a needy family. You’ll still get one present from Santa, and you’ll still exchange gifts with your sisters.”
Jason continued to sulk while Dad spoke again to the whole family. “Before we can make any definite plans,” he said, “we have to know more about the needy family. I’ll talk to Bishop Carson tomorrow to see if he can help us. As soon as we know the ages and interests of the children, you can decide what presents to make. Your mother and I will make gifts for the parents, OK?”
Everyone except Jason agreed happily. He sat quietly in his chair, thinking about last Christmas. When he closed his eyes, he could almost smell the sweet fragrance of the gumdrops and candy canes that had overflowed from his stocking hanging from the mantel. He could see the majestic, towering Christmas tree twinkling with brightly colored lights. Under it were piles of presents wrapped with red and green paper and golden bows begging to be undone. But this year …
One present! Jason thought. Last year I had at least ten neat presents. I got a race car set, and … no, I got that for my birthday. He tried and tried to remember the gifts that he had eagerly opened last Christmas, but he couldn’t think of even one.
Three days later Dad called another family council. Kristen, Meg, and Jamie skipped into the living room; Jason shuffled in slowly behind them.
“We have a family!” Dad announced. “Their name is Blakely. They haven’t been to church for several years, so I doubt that you’ve ever met them. There are four girls close to your own ages.”
“Girls, Dad?” Jason asked in annoyed surprise. “I have to make a present for a girl?”
“Yes, Jason. Her name is Jennifer. Bishop Carson says that she is very shy. She likes books and dolls and horses. If you need some ideas for a present, I’m sure Kristen will help you.”
Jason quietly slipped out of the room. He put on his coat and went out into the brisk, snowy December air. “Three weeks until Christmas,” Jason grumbled, “and I have to make a present for a girl. I’m always surrounded by girls! Besides, what can I make for somebody I don’t even know? I can’t write well enough to make a book, I don’t know how to make a doll, and I sure don’t have a horse to give her.”
Jason soon found himself in his favorite thinking spot among a cluster of tall pine trees. Looking up, he could see a bright spot in the clouds, and he wished that the sun would break through, just for a moment, to brighten his mood. He wanted to feel the same sparkle that his sisters had, but it just wasn’t there. Dad’s right. I do need some help, he thought. But not from Kristen.
Glancing around to make sure that no one was watching, Jason knelt down, thinking of another boy who knelt in a grove of trees to pray over 150 years before. After Jason asked fervently for both peace of mind and an idea for a present, he got up, brushed the snow off an old stump, then sat on it to think. He noticed a fallen pine branch at his feet. The rough bark scratched his hand as he picked it up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his treasured pocketknife.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “Santa gave me this pocketknife last Christmas.” Jason felt pleased that he had finally recalled one of his presents. How could he have forgotten such a great present that had helped him make bookends and figurines and neckerchief slides! He carefully opened the blade and whittled away the branch’s rough outer bark. Soon it was smooth and clear. As he handled the satiny piece of wood, an idea came to him. “A horse!” he exulted. “I can’t give Jennifer a real horse, but I can make her a wooden one! Thanks!” he shouted happily, looking up.
Jason ran all the way back to the house and upstairs to his room. There he found several photographs of horses in a book. After carefully choosing one, he cut an outline into the wood. It took almost two hours before he was satisfied with it. As he put the block of wood into his desk drawer, he heard a knock at his door.
Dad slipped into the room with a solemn look on his face. “Are you still upset, Jason? We haven’t seen you since family council.”
“No, I’m not upset anymore. I decided to go along with everyone else. And I even know what I’m going to make for Jennifer.”
Dad patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I came up here to help you work out your bad feelings, but it looks like you did it on your own.”
“Well, not exactly on my own. I had a little help.” Jason smiled, pointing upward.
Jason spent every spare moment for the next three weeks carving on the block of pine. Slowly the head and mane appeared, then the body and legs. The horse still looked somewhat chunky when Jason carved the tail. It’s not good enough yet, he thought. He started at the head again, whittling away the sharp edges. As the horse’s body became rounded and muscled, Jason was surprised at how much it really did look like a horse running in the wind. He carefully carved curvy lines in the mane and tail to make them look like they were flowing. Even the eyes looked real.
On Christmas Eve, the family gathered early to wrap the presents. Kristen had sewn a book jacket and embroidered her secret friend’s name on the front. Inside were copies of the standard works. Mom carefully folded the beautiful blue quilt that she had completed only the day before, while Dad gave a final inspection to the leather wallet that he had painstakingly crafted. Meg and Jamie had made Raggedy Ann dolls with a little help from Mom. As Jason placed the wooden horse on top of the bright paper, he felt a twinge of apprehension. Looking at the JENNIFER carved into the side of the horse’s base, he worried, I sure hope that she likes it.
The presents were carefully packed into a box. A canned ham, jars of Mom’s homemade strawberry jam, and other goodies were placed in a large wicker laundry basket, along with kitchen utensils, fluffy new towels, warm socks, and a board game. Six wide strands of ribbon held everything inside. After loading the station wagon, they all drove to the Blakelys’ street. Dad parked the car around the corner, and Jason helped him quietly carry the box to the Blakelys’ front door. The box was big, but it wasn’t very heavy. Jason had to strain, however, to lift his half of the laundry basket. His toe slipped on a crumbling corner of the porch, and he stumbled forward, almost dropping his end. As he stood up, he found himself facing the front window. A piece of cardboard had replaced a pane of glass. Peering over it, his eyes widened.
“Dad,” he whispered, “I don’t see a Christmas tree. Or presents. There aren’t even any stockings on the mantel. There’s only a sprig of holly tied to a light, and some paper chains taped on the walls!”
Jason scurried over to the big bush where Mom, Kristen, Meg, and Jamie were already hiding. As soon as he was there, Dad pounded on the door, then sprinted to the hiding place.
A few moments later a little girl opened the door. “Mom! Dad!” she shrieked. “Someone’s left Christmas on our porch!”
Soon the whole Blakely family was gathered on the porch. The girls started jumping up and down when their father read the words written on the box: “Merry Christmas! These presents were made especially for you by your secret friends.”
Jason held his breath as the Blakelys opened each package. The dolls were first and were met with hugs and kisses and taken immediately into the warmth of the house. When Sister Blakely saw the quilt, she hugged it just as gratefully, repeating over and over, “I can’t believe it.”
Where is Jennifer’s present? Jason thought anxiously as he watched Dad’s present being opened. I did put it in the box, didn’t I?
Brother Blakely exclaimed, “Look at the craftsmanship on this wallet, Honey—it’s hand-tooled. And there’s a ten-dollar bill inside!”
The oldest Blakely daughter looked overwhelmed as she slowly fingered her embroidered name. Opening the Book of Mormon, she pulled out a letter and went inside the house to read it.
“Kristen, what was that paper?” whispered Mom.
“I bore my testimony. I thought that that was the best present that I could give her, even if I had to sign it ‘Your Secret Friend.’”
Finally the last Blakely girl found her present and tore off the wrapping. She stared at it for a long moment. Jason felt a knot in his stomach. “She doesn’t like it,” he groaned.
Then, as Mom’s hand squeezed his arm in an effort to comfort him, Jennifer let out a delighted yelp and began to dance around the porch. She clutched the little horse close to her, and tears streamed down her face. “Mama,” she whooped, “this is the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen! This is the best Christmas ever!”
Jason felt tears swell up in his own eyes as he watched Brother Blakely lift the laundry basket into the house and shut the door against the cold. The tune of “Silent Night” floated into the night air as the Blakelys gave thanks for their Christmas Eve surprise.
Jason felt his father’s arm about his shoulders as they walked to the station wagon. “Are you ready to go home and open your presents from your sisters, Son?”
Jason hadn’t even thought of his own Christmas presents for three weeks. He had forgotten all about the walkie-talkie set that he’d wanted. Somehow it didn’t seem important anymore. The wooden horse was the only gift to remember this Christmas—he would never forget the look of joy on Jennifer’s face.

“Growing up in Queens, New York, I sometimes felt lost in the crowds of people living in the inner city. At times I felt quite isolated and lonely, even though I was surrounded by so many people.
“When I was introduced to the gospel of Jesus Christ, I started to experience the Light of Christ coming into my life. As I accepted invitations to read the scriptures, to pray, and to ponder, the light inside of me started to grow. I felt very known to God, where I previously felt unknown to everyone else.
“As a teenager, I leaned into that light early, and I stay leaned in to this day. President Russell M. Nelson teaches that it’s ‘vital’ to experience the love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—especially in our present day and age. I’m grateful for that critical experience in my youth and that Their love and light continue to propel me forward today.
“God’s love and light keep my divine identity as a beloved daughter of God in the forefront and is how I choose to present myself and navigate my way in my daily life. It has also allowed me to see the divinity of all of God’s children—my brothers and sisters. God’s love can pierce the very center of the hearts of His children. When we feel it—when we experience it for ourselves—we come to know why ‘it is the most desirable above all things … and the most joyous to the soul’ (1 Nephi 11:22–23).”

Elder Bateman said that he felt strong during the youthful and exciting time of his life, just as many of those before him at the fireside do.

“You’re all near or approaching your peak, but just wait,” he said. “In due course, you’ll be over the hill.”

And to refute snickering, he displayed a life-curve projection on the screen, showing the body increasing in strength steadily up to age 30, then beginning a long, slow decline until death.

“Is it any wonder that all of life’s decisions are made while we are increasing in strength?” he asked.

When I first attended church, I often went alone, as I was the only member in my family. At times, I struggled to feel a sense of belonging, which would increase temptations for connection in the wrong places. I realized one way I could combat this was by engaging more deeply with my congregation. As the Lord teaches us in Doctrine and Covenants 58:27, we should be “anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of [our] own free will.”
I started by volunteering to help clean the chapel. I began attending all the ward activities and offering to help wherever I could. Gradually, I built deeper connections with the members of my ward. One family began inviting me to their home evenings, Sunday dinners, and even just to hang out and play games. My family and I have become great friends with them, and it’s been a beautiful experience for all of us.
By immersing myself in my ward, I’ve found opportunities to connect with others who share the same values and standards, including the law of chastity. My ward family has been a great source of support in helping me to stay faithful and strong.

I was excited to hear that a temple will be built in my country! I am preparing now to go to the temple by praying daily, studying the scriptures, and doing family history.
Emmelyn S., age 10, Karnataka, India