Gospel Story Finder

At a recent stake conference, a returned missionary spoke on the subject of preparing for missionary service. He used the analogy of a father saying to his son, “I will be happy when you play in your first basketball game so you can learn to dribble and shoot the basketball.” He compared that example to a father saying to his son, “I will be happy when you go on your mission so you can learn to be a good person and teach the gospel.” This analogy had a significant impact on me as I reflected on my life.

Earlier, while waiting for his race, David explained that he has been riding for several years in bush league races in the Intermountain West. He used to receive $10 a race. Last spring he won his first race on a recognized track and began his apprenticeship. By June he will be a journeyman jockey.
During the years on the small tracks, he watched his weight carefully, never exceeding by much the 98-pound limit that is the requirement for a jockey.

Elder Samuel Barlow from the Shetland Islands, Aberdeen Stake, has been a deckhand on a deep-sea fishing trawler for the past two years. He decided to leave his boat and fishing career to serve the Lord as a full-time service missionary.
Serving the Lord on a mission has been a lifelong desire of Elder Barlow. That the opportunity to serve from home has been made available to young men and women outside of the US and Canada, filled Elder Barlow with great joy and happiness. He arranged to meet with his stake president to discuss applying.
President Lee McLeman of the Aberdeen Stake felt that Elder Barlow would make a wonderful service missionary and helped him to complete and submit his mission papers. Elder Barlow said, “It filled me with great happiness that Heavenly Father listens to our prayers and makes it so everyone can serve as a missionary.”
Elder Barlow also serves as the elders quorum president in the Lerwick Branch. His mission allows him to continue serving in this calling while also reaching out to help many others in the Shetlands. His setting apart required him and his family to travel to the Aberdeen chapel, a 29-hour round trip by ferry in some rough weather. He had already done that to be set apart as the elders quorum president, such is his dedication to serving the Lord.
He started his mission by serving in the British Red Cross charity shop in Lerwick, by doing Family History indexing with his father and working on the BillionGraves project (see billiongraves.com). He is looking forward to the warmer weather when he will be able help with the Scottish Wildlife Trust and the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds. He has also been asked to be the mission expert on BillionGraves and train new missionaries.
He is an excellent example to his family and to those around him. The district leader was pleased when he found out that Elder Barlow was a fisherman and exclaimed, “Jesus worked with fisherman, and now we can work with a fisherman, just like Jesus.”
Elder Barlow takes the opportunity whenever he can to tell other young single adults and youth about service missions—there are now two opportunities to serve, either as a teaching missionary or as a service missionary; the prophet extends the call for both types of missions.

Credit cards aren’t for everyone. Melinda Blunt from Tucson, Arizona, decided to leave for college without one. “I don’t feel the need for a credit card because the things that I need I can pay for up front with a debit card. That way, I don’t have to worry about debt,” she says. Melinda hasn’t ruled out getting a credit card in the future. She says she may get one to establish good credit.

Since joining the Church a little over three years ago, I have always enjoyed reading the New Era. I have not read it as regularly as I should have, and being on a mission now I get to read it only when I come across a copy now and then.
The other day I came across a copy of the September 1981 issue and decided to take some time to read it. This I did, and now I wish I had been reading it more often. There were several articles which impressed me greatly. Among them were “Swifter, Higher, Stronger” by Elder Robert L. Backman and “President Kimball Speaks Out on Planning Your Life.” I surely learned some important principles from these two articles. They helped me expand my horizons as well as set worthwhile goals, not only for my formal mission but also for my lifelong mission.
Elder Augustus ChinSan Bernardino Mission

Although we did many enjoyable things in my Aaronic Priesthood quorums as I grew up, the most important lessons were the ones my leaders taught me about priesthood duties and mission preparation. This was especially true when I turned 16, was ordained a priest, and became a member of the priests quorum. I came to understand more than ever before that callings in the Aaronic Priesthood are not just positions that need filling. My leaders let me learn my duty and helped me “act in the office in which [I was] appointed” (D&C 107:99).

Birdie was supposed to keep everyone backstage quiet. “But the deaf signed to each other anyway,” she remembered, smiling. “I told them to cut it out, because their hands would crack and make noise.”

Kristin bounced gently on her toes, bending forward, eyes narrowed. She jerked a little as Shannon, the tall, dark-haired girl on the other side of the net, tossed the tennis ball high and hit it with all her might. The ball went into the net, and Kristin relaxed, but only for an instant. She had to be ready for the second serve.
Kristin was moving as soon as Shannon’s racket hit the ball. This serve was good. It bounced just inside the outside corner of the service line. Stretching as she ran, Kristin managed to reach it with her backhand and return it low across the net.
Shannon, not expecting Kristin to return the serve, had relaxed. The ball passed her and landed on the baseline. Kristin smiled with satisfaction.
“Out,” Shannon called.
There was a murmur from the spectators lounging on the grassy slope under the shade of a cottonwood tree.
Kristin stared at her. “What?” she questioned, her satisfaction turning to disbelief. It was an important point because if Kristin lost it, Shannon would win the second set.
“It was out,” Shannon repeated. “My game and set.”
The girls went to benches on opposite sides of the court for a short break before the third set.
Kristin reached for her water jug and took several cool swallows before sloshing some water onto a towel. She pushed back her damp brown curls and wiped her face and neck, then glanced toward the small group of spectators. Her mom and dad waved.
“Hang in there!” Dad called.
She waved back and smiled, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. But her thoughts weren’t restful. She and Shannon were playing the final match in the Pineview Junior Championship for twelve year olds. The winner would receive a new tennis racket, and Shannon had told all her friends that her mom had promised her a new tennis outfit, too, if she won.
Kristin’s dad had just smiled and shaken his head when she’d suggested that he might do the same for her. “No, Kris,” he had said seriously. “We wouldn’t want to make the stakes so high that you lose sight of the game. You just do the best that you can, as you always do, and have a good time, as you always do.”
“But, Dad—”
He had interrupted her protest with a hug. “If you don’t enjoy the game, don’t play it. I’m not going to bribe you.”
“Oh, Dad!” She had been annoyed and a little angry. Why can’t my parents be more like Shannon’s? she wondered.
Kristin loved playing tennis, and she enjoyed playing against someone good, like Shannon, because she knew that it brought out the best in her own game. But she wanted it to be a fair contest. Earlier in the match, she’d thought that Shannon had made a bad call, but it was hard to tell from across the court, so she had shrugged it off. This last point, though, she knew was good, and the spectators knew it too! Still, it’s a player’s responsibility to make the calls unless there are linesmen at courtside. But that had really been an important point—especially for Shannon. Since Kristin had won the first set, if she had won the second, the match would have been over. This way, Shannon still had a chance.
Instead of relaxing, Kristin was getting angrier just thinking about that last point.
“Ready?” Shannon called.
Kristin nodded, and they returned to the court.
As with the first two sets, the third one was close. The girls fought for every point, and neither could get a comfortable lead. With the game score at 3–3, Kristin hit a hard drive toward the baseline that looked good to her. Shannon called it out. The anger that had been building up since the rest break made Kristin so careless that she muffed the next two points, giving Shannon a comfortable lead on that game.
As she bounced the ball and prepared to serve for the next point, Kristin looked at Shannon. Shannon was looking nervous but pleased.
Kristin thought about Shannon’s expression as she bounced the ball one last time before serving. It was another hard-fought point. But the game ended when Shannon skimmed one over the net at a difficult-to-retrieve angle. Kristin scrambled for the ball but couldn’t get to it. The ball landed right on the line at a place where it was difficult for Shannon to see. Kristin, still angry, had raised her hand to signal it out, when suddenly she understood what her dad had meant about losing sight of the game. She also understood that look on Shannon’s face.
Tennis rules state that if a ball touches a line, the shot is good. If there’s a question about the shot, the players’ code of sportsmanlike behavior says to let the questioning opponent have the point.
“Your point,” Kristin called. The point made it Shannon’s game for a score of 4–3.
Surprisingly relaxed now, as though some important crisis were over, Kristin enjoyed the rest of the match, even though Shannon made another questionable call.
It was close all the way, but after three long sets, Shannon drove home the match point with a beautiful passing shot. She had won the championship. And the new racket. And the new tennis outfit.
The girls met at the net to shake hands.
“Good match,” Shannon said automatically.
“Yes. I always learn a lot when I play against you,” Kristin told her. “I hope you enjoy your new stuff. See you later.”
“Thanks.” Shannon looked a little embarrassed.
Kristin turned away to see her parents waiting at the edge of the court.
“You played very well,” her mother said.
“Tough loss, Kris,” said her dad, “but you played like a champ.”
They walked away arm in arm. Kristin looked back at Shannon, who was walking to the tournament desk to report her win.
“You know, I feel like a champ,” Kristin said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“My parents taught me Christian principles, and we read from the Bible together as a family, but I resisted attending their church. I tried to fill the emptiness I felt inside with the works of great philosophers. But that emptiness wasn’t filled until my sister introduced me to the missionaries. The gospel of Jesus Christ broke down the wall I had created between myself and God. As our entire family learned about the gospel and decided to be baptized, I came to understand in my heart that I had always hidden there the solid moral and spiritual principles that my parents had taught me. When I opened my heart, I was able to appreciate what my parents had always tried to teach me.”
Corrado Campisi,Alessandria Branch,Vercelli Italy District

Lealand and John were hot and tired. A large feedbox stood near the corral where they had been playing all morning and the boys climbed up on it to rest a few minutes. When they slid down to go back to their play, they decided to lift up the heavy lid and see what was inside.
The boys were fascinated when they saw some crickets hopping in a handful of feed in the bottom of the box.
“Let’s catch them,” one of the boys suggested.
The feedbox had been carefully lined with tin to keep out storm and moisture and was barely large enough for the two little boys to squeeze inside. But it didn’t take them long to slip off their shoes, put them side by side on the ground, and then help each other into the box.
Just at that moment a cow eating from a nearby trough, tossed her head and flipped the lid back over the box. A lock on the outside caught, and Lealand and John were prisoners!
Except for a thread-like crack where the lid fit over the top, the box was airtight. The boys tried to keep their noses as close to the crack as possible while they frantically called for help.
Not even a faint breeze stirred the hot air outside, and no one heard the cries for help. Every minute the box became more uncomfortable.
Then eight-year-old John said, “Oh, Lealand, let’s pray. No one else can hear us, but our Heavenly Father can.”
The boys took turns whispering desperate prayers. Afterward, in spite of the heat and lack of oxygen, they felt better.
A few minutes later Lealand’s four-year-old brother, Wesley, noticed the shoes on the ground outside the feedbox. He stopped and looked at them. Then he climbed up on his little wagon to see if the older boys were hiding from him inside the box. Somehow he managed to undo the lock.
John and Lealand were then able to push the lid all the way up. They were almost too weak to climb out, but when the fresh air rushed in, they felt a new surge of strength. Wet with perspiration, they got out of the box and staggered gratefully toward home.

Elder Clayton has served as branch president, bishop, mission president’s counselor, and Area Seventy. Serving as bishop in a Spanish-language ward in Santa Ana, California, “was a tremendous blessing,” he says. “It enhanced my ability to see that those who keep the commandments are happy.”

Mr. Thorndike had given an unexpected Spanish vocabulary test to us. It had surprised even me. Usually I anticipated his tests, but this time he had fooled me. I had only read over the vocabulary words once and had worked on my physics project the night before instead.
After the test was over, I knew I had flunked it completely. I’d missed at least 14 of the words. Then, to my humiliation, Mr. Thorndike had us correct the tests in class. He gathered them up and then passed them around at random. I wondered self-consciously who would get mine and think I was real stupid.
The next day after he had recorded the grades, Mr. Thorndike passed the tests back to us. “Congratulations, Bill. You are the only one who got 100% correct,” he said, as he handed my test back.
“I couldn’t have.”
“Well, you did.”
“No, I …” I looked at the test. It definitely had my name on it, and it also had a big underlined 100 percent in the corner. I controlled a gasp. All the spaces I had left blank had been carefully filled in. Someone had cheated for me. But why? I looked around the room and saw that the students sitting around Alyce were looking at me and giggling. Alyce had her head down but was grinning widely. I realized Alyce had somehow managed to get my test paper and had corrected it. As a prank she had filled in the right answers.
Now what do I do? I wondered. Alyce, why did you have to do that? I thought unhappily. I looked back down at the test. I couldn’t accept a perfect score and the grades were already recorded in Mr. Thorndike’s roll book. Yet, I couldn’t reveal Alyce’s guilt either.
“I thought you said you flunked it,” said Ralph, my buddy, as he walked out of class with me. I still had the test paper in my hand, my fingers covering the 100 percent.
“Alyce’s joke has really embarrassed me,” I said.
“Oh, no.” Ralph began to laugh.
“What can I do? What would you do?”
“I don’t know. Just forget it, I guess.”
“Ralph, I can’t accept the perfect score. I told you, I flunked it.”
“Go and change the grade when Thorndike isn’t looking?”
“Impossible.”
“Then just forget about it. If you get Alyce in trouble, the whole school will be angry with you.”
“But most people know what you and I represent. They know who all the Latter-day Saints are. Even if I didn’t mind being dishonest personally, and I do, I still can’t cheat because it would make the Church look bad.”
“Having everyone in the school hate you wouldn’t help the Church much either, would it?”
“No.”
“Just forget it.”
“You’re probably right.” Sure, I thought, Ralph is right. I won’t cause problems. It’ll just forget what has happened. But by the end of the day, by algebra class, I still hadn’t been able to forget it. I knew I would have to talk to Alyce about it.
“You got a 100% on the Spanish test, right?” Alyce said grinning. Her dark eyes were mischievous. When she wasn’t making funny faces, Alyce was a pretty girl.
“Yes,” I said. “Amazing isn’t it, since I didn’t study?” She could sense my misery.
“You don’t sound very happy for someone who just got a perfect score on a test you didn’t even study for.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Alyce, you’ve put me in an uncomfortable position. I’ve thought about it, and I can’t accept that perfect score. Now what do I do?”
“Oh, no! I should have known you would feel this way. You’re such a bore, Bill, so predictable.” She tried to pretend it was funny. “Well, go ahead and tell Mr. Thorndike. I don’t care.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I said I don’t care. Do what you feel you have to do.” I could tell she did care. Talking to her hadn’t made the situation any easier. Then, in the middle of one of the algebra problems, I thought to myself, Mr. Thorndike would have no way of knowing that Alyce had corrected my test unless I told him. I could simply tell him that someone had changed my answers and that I really failed; I did not get a perfect score. He wouldn’t ask me if I knew who had corrected the test because he wouldn’t think I knew. How would I know? Even if he suspected Alyce, he had no proof of her guilt. And, if he asked me if I knew who had done it, I’d just tell him outright that I didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone. After algebra class, I smiled at Alyce and touched her arm.
“Don’t worry,” I said.
After school I went right into the Spanish room and told Mr. Thorndike what had happened. He seemed angry, but he didn’t ask me if I knew who had done it. I stood and watched as he crossed out the A and put a F in its place.
“Next time maybe I’d better be prepared,” I said sheepishly.
“Yes,” he said.
I thought that the problem was over, but is wasn’t. The next day I could tell by the way Thorndike stood up that he was extremely angry. I held my breath.
“The day before yesterday someone corrected Bill McKinley’s vocabulary test,” Mr. Thorndike said slowly. “That person filled in some right answers and gave Bill a grade he didn’t deserve. Now I want to know who that person is.” The color must have drained from my face. I didn’t dare look to see what Alyce was doing for fear I would reveal her guilt. “Let me continue,” Mr. Thorndike said. “If that person does not identify himself, this whole class will be punished. I don’t know how right now, but I’m sure I’ll think of something. Now who did it?”
I put my head in my hands and began moaning inwardly. Why did this have to be happening? Tension increased in the room as no one spoke. My chest felt tight inside. Then I surprised myself. I spoke out. “I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble.”
“Be quiet, Bill,” Mr. Thorndike said sternly. “Once again, I ask, who did it?” he said dramatically.
“I said I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble,” I repeated, once again surprising myself and Mr. Thorndike who still had his mouth open and was staring at me.
Before he had a chance to rebuke me, a clear voice said, “I corrected it.”
“Who said that?” Mr. Thorndike looked around the room.
“Mr. I did it,” Alyce said bravely. “It was just a joke.”
Mr. Thorndike, who had never liked Alyce much, nodded. Anger flared in his eyes. “I should have known. Yes, I should have known. Well, I’m tired of this kind of thing, young lady, and we’ll have no more of it.” He was speaking loudly. “You’re seniors now, and I’m tired of this kind of joking. It’s very immature. Next year you’ll be going out into the world, and you are still acting like children Alyce, I want to see you after class. I’ll have to do something about it. I’m tired of this nonsense and want it to stop. Is my meaning clear to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The rest of the day I was miserable. I should have listened to Ralph, I thought. It was such a small thing, one insignificant (small) test. It was such a stupid thing to make such a fuss about, to have been so strict about. Why hadn’t I just kept my mouth shut?
I didn’t know what to say to Alyce later when I sat next to her in algebra class, and she wouldn’t look at me. She had her head down, and her hair had fallen down in front of her face. “Alyce,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Mr. Thorndike would get angry. It makes me feel terrible. What did he say to you after class?”
“Oh, he said it would affect my citizenship grade for the semester. He was mad.”
“You know I didn’t want anything like that to happen.”
“I know,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” But it did matter, for my relationship with Alyce changed. Although she still joked with others, she quit teasing me, and though we still spoke, she seemed aloof. At the time I though it was because Alyce was angry, but now I realize she was probably just embarrassed. It saddened me to have a barrier between us, but I hoped that soon, maybe before the end of the school year, our friendship would be back to normal.
“Now what do I do? … Alyce, why did you have to do that?”

Susan Hardy, California, USA
When I was 11 years old, my Sunday School teacher, Brother Deets, told our class that if we would memorize the Articles of Faith and explain to him what they meant, he would buy us our own set of scriptures.
Brother and Sister Deets were a young couple, just starting out. I wasn’t sure Brother Deets could afford to buy a gift for anyone. But I decided that if he thought the Articles of Faith were important enough to memorize, I would take the challenge.
After I finished all 13, time went by and I forgot about his promise.
Then, on Christmas Day, I received a package with my name on it. I opened it to find a set of scriptures just for me, with a card encouraging me to read them regularly. That was in 1972, and to this day I still have those scriptures. They are precious to me.
It wasn’t the cost of the gift but the kindness he showed to me and the sacrifice he was willing to make for me that left me with a deep desire to study the word of God. I try to follow Brother Deets’s example of ministering by giving meaningful gifts to those around me, hoping that I can bless others’ lives as he has blessed mine.

Sitting in the courtyard of her high school, Aimee J. noticed that something was missing. Unlike other high schools, hers didn’t have a statue of the school’s mascot. She thought this was something she could probably change, having sculpted since she was young. All she needed was funding for materials and casting, as well as the permission and support of her school.
So Aimee drew up a proposal and presented it to the school principal. It was eventually approved, and Aimee started work on a model of the school’s mascot, a thunderbird. Her model was later cast in bronze to become a six-foot monument to her high school, dedicated to her senior class.
How did you feel while working on the sculpture? Sculpting the thunderbird was one of my Personal Progress value projects. I did the sculpting in May of my senior year, so I missed out on a lot of barbecues and parties. It was a service for all of my fellow seniors, and it took a lot of long hours being all alone in that sculpting room, but it was worth it.

Ivhan Luis Carpio Bautista, age 24, of the Richmond Hill Third Branch, Richmond Hill New York District, was working at a restaurant on the 107th floor of One World Trade Center when the attacks occurred. He had planned to take 11 September off because it was his birthday but agreed to cover a coworker’s shift instead.

Elsewhere two families in a small rural ward began feuding years ago. Although the exact circumstances are difficult for anyone to remember, it had something to do with a remark made by one father to another. The original observation was innocent, but it was misunderstood, and within days several variations of the story had spread. Feelings were hurt, sides were taken, and for years bitter feelings have chased the Spirit from them at activities and gatherings. Local leaders have tried to provide counsel and encouragement. Often those actions have been misunderstood as well. Today members of an entire family, including children and grandchildren, refuse to attend church largely because a simple observation blew up into a fire of faultfinding and criticism.

Several years ago, just before general conference, President Thomas S. Monson taught a wonderful lesson. This time it was to assembled General Authorities who had traveled to Salt Lake City, Utah, many coming from places around the world where they were serving in Area Presidencies. We had come together to be instructed by the First Presidency and the Twelve Apostles.
As the time for the meeting approached, everyone seemed to be in attendance except President Monson. Several minutes before the meeting was to begin, we stopped visiting with each other and sat reverently listening to the prelude music, expecting the prophet to arrive any moment.
We patiently waited as 9:00 a.m. came and then passed. Someone walked out the side door—obviously to see if some assistance might be needed. Upon returning, he said, “President Monson will join you shortly.”
About 15 minutes later, President Monson entered the room. Out of respect, we stood as he entered. We were happy to see him and pleased that he looked well. There was no obvious reason as to why he would have been late.
President Monson went straight to the pulpit and said, “Brethren, I’m sorry to be late, but my wife needed me this morning.”
I was deeply impressed and humbled, and I couldn’t stop thinking about his words.
This was a very important meeting. The entire senior leadership of the Church was assembled, but President Monson set the example for us all. His wife needed him, and he took the time necessary to care for her. It was a great sermon. I don’t remember anything else said that day, but I remember that sermon: “My wife needed me.”

Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little, by Peggy Gifford. Moxy has tried to do her summer reading assignment. She really has. It’s just that there are so many other things to do first … go swimming, plant an orchard, rest in the hammock. See if she finishes her book before school starts again!

In September 1830, Newel Knight and his sister Anna’s husband, Freeborn DeMille, attended the Church’s second conference, held at Fayette, New York.11 Newel was ordained a priest, and Freeborn was baptized.

At Fayette, Newel Knight became the young prophet’s confidant during a crisis caused by Hiram Page’s claim of receiving revelations for the Church through a peepstone. Newel wrote that Hiram Page carried “quite a roll of papers full of these revelations,” which led many astray. Joseph Smith “was perplexed and scarcely knew how to meet this new exigency.” Sharing the same room, the two friends spent the greater part of the night in prayer. In response, Joseph received a revelation (see D&C 28) that spelled out the proper channels for revelation to reach the Church. Newel reported, “Brother Page and all … present renounced the stone, … much to our joy and satisfaction.”

Then he goes on in this same chapter, after saying that the vision of all—that is the vision of all that he saw about this people and its destruction and the coming forth of their record, speaking out of the dust—would have a familiar spirit. I gave a copy of the Book of Mormon to the treasurer in the Presbyterian Church back in New Bedford, Massachusetts, when I was doing missionary work there. When he had about finished reading it, I said, “As you read that book, did it occur to you that anyone could have written the contents of that book to deceive people?”

“Oh,” he said, “Mr. Richards, when I read that book, I get the same spiritual uplift that I get when I read the New Testament.”

Isn’t that what Isaiah meant when he said that it should have a familiar spirit?