Gospel Story Finder

I was really scared to get baptized because I don’t like going under water. My mom showed me a picture of a girl getting baptized who looked really happy, and we read articles from the Friend about baptism. My mom gave me a jar of gumballs and told me that every day she would talk about baptism and then I would get a gumball. I felt a little better about my baptism after that.
Arianna S., age 7, Alaska, USA

Once I threw a rock and accidentally hit my friend Kevin on his lip. I had to go to his house to say I was sorry. I was scared, but I remembered that Jesus wants me to say I am sorry when I do something wrong. My dad went with me, and I told Kevin that I was sorry. He said it was OK, and I felt better inside. And we’re still friends.
Jared Green, age 6West Lafayette, Indiana

Once in the long ago when all the animals lived in villages and talked together, a time came when no rain fell for many days, and the animals suffered greatly from thirst.
When the dry time was over, the lion called the animals together. “We must make a plan,” he said, “so we will never again have to suffer or die from thirst.”
“We could move to a different country,” suggested the ape.
“Too far! Too far!” complained the smaller ones. “We cannot travel that far with our short legs.”
Then the snake spoke. “We could try to sleep through the dryness and—”
“That would never suit us,” chimed in the other animals, plainly irritated.
So the jackal and the hyena talked together. “Let us dig a deep pool to hold water from the rainy times,” they said. “Then in the dry days we would have water to drink.”
“A good plan,” the lion agreed, nodding his head. “Let’s begin to dig at once. And since the hyena and the jackal thought of the plan, the hyena may dig first and the jackal will dig last.”
After the hyena dug his share, each of the other animals dug in turn. At last the big hole was almost finished. “Now it’s the jackal’s turn,” said the animals. But the jackal was nowhere to be seen. Since they couldn’t find him, the other animals quickly finished the digging.
The rains came and filled the big pool with sweet, clear water. “No one but those who have dug may drink from this pool,” declared the lion, and all of the other animals agreed.
All this while the jackal had been hiding near the pool, and he heard what the diggers said. So when the long dry season came again, the jackal wakened very early each morning and went to drink from the clear pool. And because no one ever saw him, he became even bolder and went into the water to swim. This made the water muddy. When the animals came to drink later in the morning, they were angry. “Who did this?” they demanded. “Who muddied the water?” But no one knew.
Then the tortoise responded, “If you’ll cover my shell with sticky beeswax, I’ll watch by the pool all night and catch the rascal who muddied our water.” So, with sticky wax smeared all over his dark shell, the tortoise settled at the edge of the pool to watch through the night.
In the morning the jackal came to drink. “Ah! A nice stepping stone,” he said, and he put his two front paws on the shell and bent his head to drink. But when he tried to leave he found that his paws were stuck fast in the wax on the tortoise’s shell. “Let me go!” he cried. “You can’t play tricks on me!”
The tortoise began to move.
“Let me go or I’ll kick your shell to pieces with my strong hind legs,” cried the jackal.
“Do as you please,” replied the tortoise.
The jackal kicked hard, and then both of his hind paws were also stuck fast to the tortoise’s shell. “If you don’t let me go I’ll bite you into little pieces,” cried the jackal.
“Try it!” the tortoise answered.
The jackal bit at the shell and his jaws, too, stuck fast in the wax. Then the tortoise slowly crawled along to the lion’s house with the jackal stuck fast to his shell.
When the animals learned who had muddied the water and who had been drinking without having done his share of the work on the pool, they were angry.
“Tomorrow he must die!” they shouted. The lion nodded. “But we will allow him to choose the way of his death.”
All night long the jackal tried to think of a way he could escape. When morning came he said, “I have seen a monkey kill a rat by swinging him by the tail and dashing him against a tree. I choose to be killed this way.”
“If that is your wish,” said the lion, “the hyena will swing you by the tail around and around and dash you against a tree!”
Now it happened that the wily jackal saved all the fat from the meat he had been given for his last meal, and with it he greased his tail to the very tip. So when the hyena grasped him by the tail and began to swing him around and around, he could not hold tightly. The jackal’s slippery tail went right through the hyena’s paws, and the jackal landed on the ground and went streaking away as fast as he could go.
The hyena and the other animals were so surprised that they didn’t have wits enough to spring after the jackal and give chase until after he had disappeared. The jackal never came back, and many years passed, with the pool always holding clear water for the animals to drink in dry times.
But the tortoise never forgot how the jackal had troubled the water. Even to this day it is said that tortoises can be found guarding the pools of Africa from intruders.

Up to Ten and Down Again In this delightful counting book, a duck watches a family come on a picnic and sail toy boats before a storm chases them home. Then the duck is alone again—or is it?Lisa Campbell Ernst3–5 years

After his father, Hyrum, and his Uncle Joseph were killed at Carthage Jail, Joseph F. Smith had to help his mother bring their family to the Salt Lake Valley.
Joseph’s mother, Mary Fielding Smith: Joseph, you are only eight years old, but I must depend on you. You must be a man when you are hardly a boy.
Joseph F.: I’ll help as much as I can, Mother.
Along the journey, young Joseph chopped wood, picked berries, carried water, and took care of the family’s animals.
But his main responsibility was driving the oxen.
He felt especially sad when his ox teams were thirsty and tired.
Joseph F.: I’m sorry, Thom. I know it’s too hot for you.
The journey was hard, and life didn’t become easier once they reached the Salt Lake Valley.

I must respectfully disagree with a statement in the article “Mission Field Inside the Grand Canyon” by Cal Decker in the May New Era. The article states on page 31: “Mules and horses are valued in Supai because they carry in tourists, groceries, feed, and even the U.S. mail. The only other way into the 500-acre Havasupai Reservation is by helicopter.” In the summer of 1972 I hiked down the Supai trail with a group of LDS students. In Supai we had an inspiring testimony meeting and short Sunday School with the missionaries living in Supai. The hike down to Supai was pleasant, but the upward climb was breathtaking (physically as well as figuratively). The trip was an experience of a lifetime, and I will never forget the simple, humble faith of the Supai Indians. I found the article in the New Era to be well-written and thought-provoking.
David B. CrippsProvo, Utah

Dad made each of us kids feel special. He would look after each of us and talk to us like an equal. He loved us unconditionally and would forgive easily if we said we were sorry. He did his best to make sure that each of us was happy, and he made it clear that he wanted the best for us. I loved him so much.
When I was in sixth grade my dad died in a car accident. My family and I were totally devastated. There was a big hole in our family. I was totally lost. Dad was the one I leaned on, the one I went to if I was having problems. I felt that he had no right to leave me. Instead of seeking help, I let the anger and hurt stay. I finally decided it was God’s fault. I stopped reading my scriptures and saying prayers. I only went to church because Mom wanted me to. I tried to stay far away from my Heavenly Father.
Then I had my first year of girls’ camp. Mom made me go, and I had fun. I liked meeting new friends, but I still didn’t really read my scriptures. On the last night we had a testimony meeting. I felt something I hadn’t in a long time—the Spirit. I admired the girls who got up and bore their testimonies, but I stayed seated because I thought I didn’t have one. All of a sudden I felt like I had to get up. It took a while, but I did get up. I opened my mouth wondering what to say, because I didn’t know that the Church was true or anything like that. So I started like the other girls did. I said I was glad for girls’ camp, which was true. Then I found myself saying that I knew Jesus died for me and that my Heavenly Father loved me and that the Church was true. And the most amazing thing was that I knew what I was saying was absolutely true.
I was filled with a remarkable peace that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Then I realized that all the things I loved about my dad were attributes of Christ and that my dad was trying to show me not just how much he loved me but how much Jesus and Heavenly Father loved me. I was so grateful for that. Because of this experience I can really say that this is the true Church, that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me more than I could ever imagine, and that Jesus loves me and died for me. I also know that I will see my dad again because of the Atonement and Resurrection.

In stark contrast, consider the example of another young man. Through the years I have watched how his parents have taught him from infancy to unwaveringly live the commandments of God. By example and precept, they nurtured him, together with their other children, in truth. They encouraged the development of discipline and sacrifice to obtain worthy goals. This young man chose swimming to instill in his character those qualities. Early-morning practice sessions required discipline and sacrifice. Over time he excelled in that sport.
Then came the challenges—for example, a championship swim meet on Sunday. Would he participate? Would he rationalize an exception to his rule of not swimming on Sunday to help his team win the championship? No, he would not yield, even under intense peer pressure. He was called names, even physically abused. But he would not yield. The rejection of friends, the loneliness, and the pressure brought times of sadness and tears. But he would not yield. He was learning firsthand what each of us must come to know—the reality of Paul’s counsel to Timothy: “All that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution” (2 Tim. 3:12). Over the years this consistent pattern of righteous living—woven from hundreds of correct decisions, some in the face of great challenge—has developed a character of strength and capacity. Now, as a missionary, he is appreciated by his peers for his ability to work, his knowledge of truth, his unwavering devotion, and his determination to share the gospel. One who earlier was rejected by his peers now has become a respected leader of his peers. Is there a message for you in these examples?

You know the scripture in 2 Nephi 32:5, where Nephi tells us, “The Holy Ghost … will show unto [us] all things what [we] should do”? I never really understood that statement until I experienced it.
Some friends and I were out on our bikes one afternoon at a place called the “dirt hills.” It was our favorite place to go. We went there almost every day. It was only about a mile from where we lived, so we could ride our bikes there. We could literally spend hours on end at the dirt hills, jumping our bikes. It was great fun.
One time when we were there, my friend Tyler crashed his bike. He and his bike seemed to be OK, so we kept jumping. After about five more minutes, I stopped my bike. Tyler came over and asked what was wrong. I told him I had a really strong feeling that we should leave and go home. I felt kind of weird saying that because we had only been there about 15 minutes. But Tyler told me he felt the same feeling. I knew it was time to go.
As we got closer to home, Tyler kept saying his bike was acting strange. Then it broke into pieces as we reached the corner of the street where we both lived. The pedals fell off and the chain broke.
What would have happened had we not followed the prompting to leave? The Holy Ghost knew it was time to go. He showed us that it was time.
I am so thankful we listened to the Spirit when we did.

Rhett Wyatt, a priest in the Gresham Fourth Ward, Gresham Oregon Stake, runs on a busy schedule. Each morning at 7:00 A.M. Rhett, who’s blind, runs two miles holding onto the arm of a classmate or gym teacher. He also works out on the trampoline, thanks to a safety invention of his brother, and ran a mile race in a Special Olympics track meet. Rhett recently performed in his school’s productions of Oklahoma and West Side Story and delivered a Bill Cosby routine at his senior class banquet. A stake missionary and member of the Gresham seminary executive council, Rhett plans to serve a mission soon.

Since the death of Brigham Young, the Church had been suffering financial problems. In addition to active ward and stake building programs, three temples (Manti, Logan, and Salt Lake) were being built simultaneously; a fourth at St. George had just been completed. Furthermore, the Perpetual Emigration Fund, a loan fund to help poor Saints pay their passage to Zion from Europe, was over a million dollars in debt. President Taylor’s repeated exhortations to the Saints who owed money to the fund to pay what they owed seemed to do little good. To others who were derelict in their tithing payments, he had pleaded that the needs of the Church were great and blessings would come to those who tithed honestly.

Yet most of the Saints who owed money were poor; many of them were recent immigrants who found it difficult to earn enough to meet their daily needs, much less enough to repay their indebtedness to the Church. And so the Quorum of the Twelve decided that in harmony with the spirit of the jubilee celebration of the children of Israel in ancient times, which included a general forgiveness of indebtedness, the Church would do no less.

The Twelve could hardly have made a more magnificent gesture, or one which would have raised more eyebrows among the more hard-headed financiers of the Church. But other measures had done little good; perhaps the celebration of a jubilee of brotherhood, forgiveness, and sharing would draw the people closer together and open the windows of heaven to all the Church. A series of special preliminary meetings were announced for April conference that year which would set the theme for the jubilee.

April in Salt Lake City can be cold, raw, sleety, and snowy; April of 1880 was all of that. The three thousand Saints who crowded from all parts of the territory into the newly completed Assembly Hall for preliminary meetings on April 4 and 5 were impressed with the magnificent ceiling with its frescoes showing the Nauvoo and Kirtland temples and other scenes from Church history. A beautiful pipe organ, second in size only to the great organ in the Tabernacle to the north of the Assembly Hall, accompanied the choir under George Careless’s direction. More important, however, in view of the weather, were provisions for creature comfort; the new building was designed with steam heat that was piped under alternate benches throughout the hall and through twelve radiators against the walls. It was brilliantly lighted, despite the cloudy day, by 24 gas lamps and a huge central chandelier of 12 gas jets. Basking in light and radiated warmth, the congregation stood to welcome the Quorum of the Twelve, headed by the man whom they were to sustain in three days as Trustee-in-Trust for the Church. Attentively they listened as President Taylor announced the theme of the jubilee celebration. In ancient Israel, the year of jubilee was celebrated by a time of general rejoicing and forgiveness in which debtors were released from their obligations and prisoners were set free. In a like manner should this modern-day jubilee find its celebration.

Exactly what this would entail was not spelled out, however, until the second day of conference, Wednesday, April 7, when more than 10,000 Saints met in the drafty, unheated Tabernacle. At this meeting, President Taylor stated that “he thought in this year of jubilee we ought to do like the ancients and take off the yoke from those who were in debt to the [Perpetual Emigration] Fund and unable to pay, and release them from their bondage. His brethren of the Twelve joined with him in the desire to do this and cause a feeling of joy and liberty to abound among the poor.” It was proposed to remit half of the indebtedness of the fund, which indebtedness stood at $1,604,000. “This was for the benefit of the poor, not of those who were able to pay.” The congregation voted unanimously in favor of the motion.

Next President Taylor moved that half of the debt of $151,798.02 in unpaid tithing be remitted in favor of the deserving poor. “Those who were better off should pay up,” he said. Further, to help the poor who had suffered during the past winter, it was proposed that 1,000 cows, 5,000 sheep, and 34,761 bushels of wheat stored by the Relief Society should be donated, the wheat to be paid back after the next harvest.

The meeting closed, as general conference meetings customarily did in those days, with a reading from the stand of the names of men hereby called to full-time missions for the Church. Sixty-eight men, most of them of mature years, married, with young families, were called to missions in Great Britain, Europe, the United States, Germany, French Switzerland, the Netherlands, the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii), and San Juan County.

Referring to the missionaries just sustained by vote of the congregation, President Taylor closed by hoping that “those who had voted to sustain the missionaries” would help their wives and children who would be left behind. “Prayers were very good, but food, clothing, and other necessaries were more helpful sometimes than prayers, and we should take care that no missionaries’ families were allowed to suffer,” he said (Deseret News, report, Apr. 7, 1880).

When I was a mission leader in the Independencia Ward in Santiago, Chile, we focused on inviting the influence of the Spirit into the lives of the new converts. From that period of time in that ward have come some of Chile’s great priesthood leaders: seven stake presidents, two mission presidents, two regional representatives, one member of a temple presidency, and a great many bishops.
Why was the harvest so successful? It came from the fruitfulness of the ground, and it came from God. Therefore, the joy I feel comes from knowing that “the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself” (Mark 4:28). A favorite hymn reminds us that when we are planting for the Master, we do not labor alone. Indeed, when we seek to sow precious seeds of gospel truth, we can be assured of divine help:
Thou who knowest all our weakness,
Leave us not to sow alone!
Bid thine angels guard the furrows
Where the precious grain is sown,
Till the fields are crown’d with glory,
Filled with mellow, ripened ears,
Filled with fruit of life eternal
From the seed we sowed in tears.2

When Greg was 12, his family went through another change. After much deliberation, his mother decided to remarry, and although there was occasional strain, Greg adapted quite well to his new father, brothers, and sisters.

“Don’t ask me how the science fair went!” Michelle declared, walking into the house after school.
“What happened?” Morgan asked.
“Didn’t you just hear me say don’t ask?” Michelle snapped. She walked right past her little sister and up the stairs. Bang! Her bedroom door slammed shut.
Morgan asked Mom why Michelle was mad. Mom explained that Michelle was hoping her project on hermit crabs would win at the science fair, and that it must not have happened.
“So why won’t she talk to me?” Morgan asked.
“Maybe she will later, honey. For now, we should leave her alone,” Mom said.
“But I want to play with her, like I always do when she comes home from school.”
“I don’t think she wants to play games right now. Maybe you could color or play dolls while I start making dinner,” Mom said.
Morgan went to her bedroom and took out some paper and crayons. She started to draw a picture with flowers. She colored it for a few minutes and then stopped. She quickly jumped up and ran to Mom.
“How long till dinner?” Morgan asked.
“About 45 minutes.”
“Is that enough time to make a happy book for Michelle? I want it to be done by dinner,” Morgan said.
Seeing Mom nod her head yes, Morgan ran back to her room and closed the door.
“Michelle! Morgan! Dinnertime!” Mom called a little while later.
Morgan hurried out of her room and ran to Michelle’s spot at the dinner table. She placed some papers facedown on Michelle’s plate. Then she sat in her own chair.
When Michelle came to the table, she pointed to the papers and grumpily asked, “What’s this?”
“It’s a happy book,” Morgan said softly.
“Oh.” Michelle picked up the papers and turned them over. She studied the first one.
“That’s a picture of a trophy. ‘Cause I liked your hermit crabs the best,” Morgan said. “The next one is a picture of a sad face.”
“Why?” Michelle asked.
“Because I got sad that you were mad and didn’t want to talk to me or play games with me.”
Michelle flipped to the next picture. “I know this one is a heart, right?”
“Yes,” Morgan said. “A heart means I love you.”
Michelle looked at the last picture, then at her sister.
“It’s my favorite. It’s me and you playing a game together.” Morgan looked at her older sister. “Did my book make you happy?”
“Yes, very happy,” said Michelle. “I’m sorry for being angry when I came home from school. I wasn’t mad at you. My project didn’t win anything, and I thought it would, so I was upset.”
“That’s OK. I still love you,” Morgan said.
“I love you too, Morgan,” Michelle said with a smile. “After dinner do you want to play a game?”
“All right!” Morgan cheered.

After his interview with the bishop, Blake was ready to be baptized. He was eager to have his dad baptize and confirm him a member of the Church. “I felt really good after I was baptized and confirmed,” Blake said. “Someday I want to go on a mission and teach the gospel so more people can join the Church.” He has already started a missionary fund.

How many of you have read Dr. Seuss? It seems that one day this interesting man was asked to give a graduation speech. It was a bright, sunny day, and he strolled across the platform and turned to face the audience to deliver the following speech, exactly six lines long:
“This is my speech. Would you like to hear it? It’s called ‘My Uncle Terwilliger on the Art of Eating Popovers.’
“My uncle ordered popovers from the restaurant bill of fare,
And when they were served, he regarded them with a penetrating stare.
Then he spoke great words of wisdom as he sat down on that chair.
‘To eat these things,’ said my uncle, ‘you must exercise great care.
You must swallow down what’s solid, and you must spit out the air.’
“And my concluding comment,” said Dr. Seuss, “is, if you partake of the world’s bill of fare, that’s darn good advice to follow. Do a lot of spitting out of hot air, and be careful of what you swallow.”

That morning in stake conference, the president with whom I had stayed was released after thirteen years of faithful service. There was a great outpouring of love and appreciation, not because of his wealth, not because of his stature in the business community, but because of the great service he had unselfishly given. Without thought of personal interest, he had driven tens of thousands of kilometers in all kinds of weather. He had spent literally thousands of hours in the interest of others. He had neglected his personal affairs to assist those who needed his help. And in so doing he had become great in the eyes of those he had served.

Let’s compare John’s experiences with those of a Latter-day Saint teenager named David.
In open defiance and rebellion against his father, David stole the family car. Succumbing to the excitement of high speed, he failed to negotiate a turn, rolled the car several times, and was critically injured. Fortunately, those who were riding with him received only minor injuries.
The family and ward members fasted and prayed for David’s recovery. He was given a special blessing by his home teachers and was visited often in the hospital. Even the other young men in the accident and their parents visited and expressed hope for his recovery. Although David was left somewhat crippled and scarred, he recovered and everyone thanked the Lord for preserving his life.

In going through my husband’s Church books, I came across A Marvelous Work and a Wonder by Elder LeGrand Richards. As I read it, I felt as if it had been written for me. I discovered New Testament scriptures regarding baptism for the dead and Christ’s mission during the time prior to his resurrection. I discovered Jesus’ words to Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb: “Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father.” (John 20:17.) Had he not returned to his Father immediately after his death? But I had used his words to the thief on the cross, “To day shalt thou be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43) to prove deathbed repentance! I had read these same scriptures countless times before but had never really understood them. Now I realized I had been deceived about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As I studied and prayed, I began to find answers to the questions I had quietly pushed aside. Finally, I knew that this church was the Savior’s church, and its doctrine was his doctrine. In 1984 I was baptized.

Professional life is another area which provides opportunities for friendships. Once when I was working in California, I was offered a job in New York City. My employers told me people didn’t care about each other there.
I couldn’t believe people could live the way they described. It made me want to go to New York City just to prove them wrong. But after six months working there, I was ready to concede my California friends were right. Then I decided I hadn’t made much of an effort myself.
So I started a program to find out if New York City workers were really human. I lived in Scarsdale, about a 45-minute train ride from New York. The train ran exactly on schedule. I started noticing the habits of the commuters. They would leave home at exactly the same minute each morning, walk to the station, buy a New York Times, walk to a certain board on the platform, fold their paper, stand on that board until the train arrived, get on the same car, find the same seat, and read their newspaper all the way into Grand Central Station. They would never speak as they traveled their various routes.
I decided the only way to get to know them was to break the routine. I selected a man I thought I would like to get acquainted with, and after observing his routine for a few days, I planned a counter-routine.
I arrived at the station at about the same time he did. As soon as he started to walk down to his favorite board on the platform, I broke into a run and just beat him there, firmly planting my two feet on his favorite spot. This unnerved him so that he didn’t even unfold his newspaper.
When the train arrived, I jumped on and took his favorite seat. He rode all the way into the city visibly disturbed. I believe I ruined the entire day for him. The next morning I repeated the same process.
Then the most remarkable thing happened the third morning. When I arrived at the train platform, he was already there, firmly planted on his favorite board, reading his newspaper. I couldn’t help but laugh. He gave me a scowl, and then he couldn’t hold back either. I introduced myself as a new arrival determined to break the routine of a commuter. We had an enjoyable visit. We got on the train and talked all the way into New York.
From then on, breaking each other’s routine became a game. We would race each morning for that favorite spot. Soon others noticed what we were doing, and before we knew it, there were three, then four, then five, then ten, all racing for that particular board each morning.
The great friendships made then have endured many years. The cold New Yorker was just as friendly as anyone else. All you had to do was break through that city shell.