Gospel Story Finder

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Primary leader: We have a special surprise today, children. We will be visited by an ancient prophet. Allow me to introduce Isaiah.
Jason: That’s not really Isaiah. That’s my dad in his bathrobe.
Primary leader: You’re right, Jason. Brother Williams has agreed to play the role of Isaiah this morning.
Isaiah: More than 700 years before the birth of Jesus Christ I prophesied of His life and Atonement. I said, “Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.”*
Isaiah: All the ancient prophets testified of Christ. Every prophet in modern times has testified of Him. President Gordon B. Hinckley testifies of Christ today.
Isaiah: Who can tell me one reason why we read the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price? Mandy?
Mandy: They all testify of Christ.
Isaiah: That’s right, Mandy. And if we read them prayerfully, the Holy Ghost will touch our hearts, and we, too, will receive a testimony of Christ.

My family’s story does not end with my brothers’ deaths. The doctor who tried so desperately to save Steven’s life had been separated from his own sons through a terrible divorce. When he told my mother that Steven had died, my mother told him, “The Lord will allow us to see him again. I am so grateful that we have an eternal family so we can all be together again.”
The doctor was so impressed by my mother’s faith that he investigated the Church and was baptized and later sealed in the temple to his new wife.

Bradley, though only two years old, loved to be a part of family scripture time. When it was his turn, he held his scriptures and carefully turned each page, saying, “Heavenly Father loves me; Heavenly Father loves me.” Experiencing the unfailing love of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ is the foundation of testimony.

Miguel liked to help Mama in the garden. He covered the tiny seeds with dirt. He gave them some water. But not too much.
“You are doing a good job,” Mama said. “Soon we will have lots of good things to eat.”
Miguel smiled. He was happy to help.
In a few days, small sprouts poked through the dirt. Miguel watered the plants. He pulled weeds that grew next to them. Each day the plants grew a little taller.
One day, he saw a worm. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to hurt it. But would it hurt the plants? His family got most of their food from the garden.
“Mama, look!” He pointed to the worm. It wiggled in the dirt. “Will it hurt the plants?”
She shook her head no and smiled. “Worms are good for the garden.”
Miguel watched the worm dig into the ground. “It’s making holes in the dirt!” he said.
“That’s what it’s supposed to do. It’s breaking up the dirt so the roots can grow strong. It’s one of Heavenly Father’s creatures. It has its own special purpose.” Mama kissed Miguel on the top of his head. “Just like you do.”
Miguel dug around the plants. He was careful not to hurt the worm. He saw other worms. He smiled as they dug their tunnels.
Miguel liked the worms. He wanted to treat all of Heavenly Father’s creatures with respect.

Recently we were reviewing a pile of job applications that measured almost three inches high. The applications represented dozens of heart-rendering pleas such as “I need this job,” “If I don’t get a job, I will have to quit school,” “I … I … I …”

True, they pulled our heart strings, but they were nonetheless rejects for one reason or another.

In the midst of our sorting-out process, a bold knock came on the office door. In walked a smiling, confident, well-groomed teenager who looked happy to be alive!

“Hi! May I take five minutes of your time?” he began.

At our nod of consent, he boldly continued, “My name is Jack Taylor, and you need me!”

Oh, sure; we silently eyed each other. What is this?

But he went on so sincerely and honestly that we couldn’t help but give our full attention.

“I come into your restaurant all the time, and I think it’s the greatest! But, you have one problem. More people need to know about your place. I really want to help you, and here’s one idea I have …”

He was so zealous about our cause and concerns, we sat back in amazement. Out of a hundred applicants, here was one who never said a word about his needs but only our needs. From a purely business point of view, we were impressed.

Jack went on to unfold his plan of dressing in Roaring 20s attire and going door-to-door all over town to tell people about our restaurant. He proposed that for every person who came in at his invitation, we pay him a certain amount—whatever we desired.

Did we hire him?

Of course! In mid-summer, when job openings were almost non-existent, Jack Taylor got a job.

It was only a few days later that a prominent local professor entered our door accompanied by his nine children and announced, “Jack sent me!”

True, Jack’s approach to us might have been somewhat brash, but the message he was sending us got through. His message wasn’t so much that he wanted a job as that he had the right attitude. During his employment with us, that attitude never changed. He always radiated a genuine concern for our best interest.

I stayed up late on New Year’s Eve,
And as I’d been assured,
A new millennium was born!
Happy cries were heard.
Just as a millennium has begun,
I will also start anew,
For this is the year I will have
A special rebirth, too.
My baptism day is coming soon,
And since I’ve come of age,
I am now accountable
For all I do and say.
I’ll take on the name of Jesus Christ
As part of His family,
Then renew my covenants each time I take
The sacrament worthily.
My baptism is the important event—
That certainly is clear.
But still I can say 2000 and I
Were born in the very same year!

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
What are you doing?
I’m thinking about the future.
You don’t know what’s going to happen in the future!
Then how do I know that I’m going to go on a mission, or that you’re going to marry some goofy guy in the temple?
Don’t you listen in Primary? It’s called agency. You get to choose to go on a mission or go to the temple. You have to make good choices to get you there.
Then making good choices is one way to plan for the future, right?
I guess you’re right. I’m planning on eating the last chocolate éclair!
You mean the one I just ate?
Mom!

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Brrrrrr! I’m cold!
I’m colder!
I’m coldest!
I’m warm as toast.
This is your roving reporter speaking with the only warm man in town. And what exactly is the source of your toastiness, sir?
Christmas, of course.
Every twinkling light, tree, and ornament radiates warmth. But the warmest thing of all is remembering we’re celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ.
You know, I’m feeling kind of warm myself.
I’m even warmer!
I’m warmest of all!
Brrrrrr! I’m freezing!

Such a family was Oskar and Albertina Andersson, who became members of the Church in 1915. After World War II, Oskar, Albertina, and seven of their children who had married members made the heart-rending decision to sell all they owned and “travel to Zion.” From 1949 to 1950, 29 members of the Andersson family left Sweden. Oskar and Albertina left their home, three children, and four grandchildren, whom they would never see again. They arrived in a desert and a city where the people spoke a language they did not understand. But for these faithful members, being close to the temple was more important than anything else.
Members of the Andersson family have since served as missionaries and Church leaders in all parts of the world, including as an Area President in Africa and a temple president in Sweden.

Not long after my baptism, I was assigned to record part of a Thai translation of a filmstrip called “The Restoration,” since there was no advanced technology in those days. A sentence that I had to read was “I am a sinner, I need the Lord.” I had pondered why I was selected to read that line. How did the Lord know what I needed? That sentence echoed in my ears silently. I knew the Lord had chosen me as one who really needed Him. He said, “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”1 The Lord “awakened them out of a deep sleep, and they awoke unto God.”2 I am one of those now awakened. As time goes by, I realize that repentance is a process of learning, growing and improving. Whenever I look back, I see myself as one who has been changed for the better. President Nelson taught repentance with hope, joy and love, saying, “The word for repentance in the Greek New Testament . . . means ‘change’ . . . ‘mind,’ ‘knowledge,’ ‘spirit’. . . . Thus, when Jesus asks you and me to ‘repent,’ He is inviting us to change our mind, our knowledge, our spirit . . . He is asking us to change the way we love, think, serve, spend our time, treat our wives, [and] teach our children.”3 I feel deep gratitude for Church activities that can be implemented in the home as home-centered and Church-supported gospel learning is emphasized. It helps me run to repentance and not away from it.

Like great parents of all ages, Lucy turned to prayer for divine help to sustain her family. During the march from Ohio to Missouri known as Zion’s Camp, Joseph and Hyrum were seriously ill with cholera, and their lives were almost taken. At one point, “Hyrum sprang to his feet and exclaimed, ‘Joseph, we shall return to our families. I have had an open vision, in which I saw mother kneeling under an apple tree; and she is even now asking God, in tears, to spare our lives. … The Spirit testifies, that her prayers … will be answered’” (Lucy Mack Smith, History, p. 229).

On my first, I just wasn’t ready. I couldn’t bring a child to this world, so I thought. We couldn’t afford it. My husband was in the middle of his medical studies, and I was working and studying hard.
Going into the operating room, it hit how it reached so many levels at that moment, not just expanding a family, but what my body was about to go through.

Some parents rightly ask, “When should I begin talking about sexually related issues?” It depends on the age and maturity of the child and the specific situation. Spiritual guidance will come as parents prayerfully and carefully observe their children’s behavior, intentionally listen to their children, and take time to consider and discern when and what to teach. For example, I recall my son asking me questions about anatomy when he was barely five years old. While it was a little unnerving, it was obvious that it was the right time to talk. However, as I thought about how to respond, it seemed clear that this was not the right time to talk with my son about every sexually related topic.

Another quality my father taught me was that of trustworthiness. When I was just barely a teenager, he would send me into town on errands. He never said, “Now remember, don’t go any further; don’t ruin the truck,” etc. He just said, “Could you get me some silage?” And I went and got the silage. It didn’t even dawn on me until years later that maybe I could have taken a spin up around the foothills or gone on into Salina and had some fun!

Ken Morgan, custodian at Ukiah High School, gave five books to teachers and personnel at the high school. The librarian asked for two copies, one for herself and one to put in the school library. Ken’s wife works at an elementary school, where she gave ten books to teachers and parents.

Following the opening prayer, we were introduced to Brother Corbridge of the stake high council. Brother Corbridge told us that he and his family had just returned from a wonderful vacation trip that included a visit to the Church historical sites, the Hill Cumorah and the Sacred Grove near Palmyra, New York. Then he told us in great detail of his family’s experience while in the Sacred Grove. An unmistakable manifestation of the Spirit had come to them to confirm without a doubt the truth of what had happened there on that early spring morning of 1820 when God the Father and the Savior appeared to Joseph Smith.

For many years, I worked in the São Paulo Brazil Temple. I saw many families come there to be sealed. Many of them had to make great sacrifices to do so. I remember one family who had traveled for three days to get to the temple. They had six children, and only one of the children had shoes. The father was embarrassed that some of the children had only sandals to wear. He knew, though, that coming to the temple was more important than having shoes. It was a wonderful experience to see this beautiful family sealed together in the temple.

In the middle of my sophomore year, my high school drama department announced auditions for the annual Shakespearean play. “This is great!” I thought. I pictured myself in colorful Elizabethan costume, playing a rousing Shakespearean role. It was something I had wanted to do all year. So between American History and lunch I ran into the office and picked up a dittoed sheet of dialogue.
“What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distempered head so soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.”
“That sure doesn’t sound like English to me,” I thought, reading through the rest of the tryout material. I couldn’t make sense of what was going on or of how I was supposed to say one word. I’d seen Shakespearean plays before and even movies. The lines had always sounded easy and natural.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked myself. The audition line I had joined after school was getting shorter. I stood in the C-wing stairwell and reread the pages: “What early tongue …” I was growing frantic.
Matt Ricks filed into the line behind me. “Hey, Brad, it’s good to see you trying out.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Matt was the best actor in the school, and I was in awe.
“Oh boy,” I thought. “Now I’ll really look like a fool when he tries out after me. Well, I don’t have to look like a fool. I’m not going to walk out on that stage and make a total idiot of myself.” I turned away from the audition line and walked quickly to my hall locker. Luckily Matt was surrounded by his usual harem of admirers and didn’t notice me leave.
I argued with myself: “Don’t be dumb. We’ve gone through all this before. Of course you might not make this play, but then, you might! You have to try.” I climbed the main hall stairs to upper B-wing. “You can’t read Shakespearean English now, but you can learn.”
Then, somehow, all the ifs and theys got to me. “Even if I learned it, what would they say if I botched it?” I crumpled the dialogue sheet and shoved it in my back pocket. It was easy to imagine the hateful names they might call me; it was easy to feel the hurt when they would laugh at me or whisper cruel things if I failed. I envisioned myself onstage—“What early tongue so sweet saluteth me”—dodging all the pencils, spitwads, shoes, rocks, and desks that they would throw.
“I’m not trying out,” I decided firmly. By now I’d missed my bus and knew I would have to walk all the way home. I snatched up my books, kicked the locker door closed, and drooped back down the B-wing stairs. Why should I worry about what they would think? But I did.
When I ate only one taco for dinner instead of my usual three, dad realized something was on my mind.
“I’m not holding myself back,” I told him. “I want to try out and do what I know is best for me, but they won’t let me. They’re intimidating me right out of my best intentions.”
“Who are they?” dad asked.
“Well, you know, they.”
“Who?” he asked again.
“The kids at school,” I answered exasperatedly.
“Who?”
“You know,” I fumbled. “Friends, peer group, the kids trying out who are better than me.” Inside I was frantic. Not a single name came to my mind except Matt Ricks, and he was the only one I was sure wouldn’t laugh.
Then, with the infallible wisdom of most fathers, dad explained that as people mature it becomes less and less important what other people think or say. It took him until 7:00 to finally convince me that “mature people are self-confident enough to live in a way that will please their Heavenly Father. They do what is best, what they know is right, regardless of what they say. Some people never reach that point of maturity, while others reach it quite early in life.”
He reminded me of when our family would go to the park to play baseball. The older family members would leave Chris, my younger brother, and me to play at the small baseball diamond while they went around the wire fence to the grown-ups’ baseball field. “Do you remember how you two would play until you were bored, and then both of you would climb to the top of the dugout to watch the grown-ups play ball? That fence always seemed a tangible measure of age and ability. Now it can be a symbolic measure of maturity as you judge in which ballpark you’d like to play. You need to commit to your goals, never caring about what they may say. It is up to you to reach the fence as early in life as you can.”
Before bed that night I rescued the wrinkled tryout sheet and read it over again. “What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distempered head.” Finally the words were beginning to make sense. I sat right in the middle of my bedroom floor laughing out loud. “Dad’s right.” I thought of where I was and imagined where I could be if I hadn’t talked myself out of so many opportunities, or let others do so, without even trying. Maybe I might not have made the team, or won the office, but maybe I might have. When I was younger I didn’t have the personal courage to try, so I shall never know. But that night dad taught me that one of the nicer things about trying is that you can never lose something you don’t have. You only take a chance on winning.
Dad told me, “Trying is like climbing a hill. If you stand with your feet firmly planted at the bottom and declare that there is no way you can climb that hill, you could stand there forever. If you dare to try, you have nowhere to go but up.”
Of course, it does matter what other people think and say since we all live together on this earth. Heavenly Father tells me I must consider others, that I am my brother’s keeper. Actually, other people are the incentives for most good things I do. Other people and their feelings toward me are often my reward. My happy balance will come as I learn to keep the opinions and actions of others in perspective. I must remember not to let others dictate my actions. In turn, I must not be the one whose remarks or actions could dominate someone else’s life. We must all play in the grown-up park by acting and not reacting.
“All right,” I told myself on the bedroom rug, “if they aren’t holding me back, then what other excuse do I have? The audition is up to me.” Despite the late hour, I practiced the passage again. As the Shakespearean sentences began to flow, my confidence returned. I berated myself for being so stupid as to have given other people that strong a vote in my election. Yes, they have a voice, and there will always be those who encourage and those who discourage, but I have free agency. I cast the deciding ballot, and I vote for what is best for me.
As I practiced, somehow Shakespeare, the man, became a reality to me. What if he had been afraid to try to write a play because of what people might think? What if he had never produced his plays because he feared being laughed at, or called names, or run out of town? I felt foolish. How infinitely poorer our world would be without William Shakespeare, or for that matter, without Thomas Edison, Abraham Lincoln, Harriet Tubman, and Thomas Jefferson. What if Joseph Smith had not prayed in the grove? Or then, what if he had never told anyone else about his marvelous vision of the Father and the Son because of what they might (and did) think?
I would never want the Lord to say of me, “But with some I am not well pleased, for they will not open their mouths, but they hide the talent which I have given unto them, because of the fear of man. Wo unto such, for mine anger is kindled against them.
“And it shall come to pass, if they are not more faithful unto me, it shall be taken away, even that which they have” (D&C 60:2–3).
“Tomorrow,” I vowed as I climbed into my waiting bed, “tomorrow I will really act—in more ways than one.”

Claudiana: At the height of my illness, my faith began to weaken. I thought Heavenly Father wasn’t listening to my prayers, and I wondered what I’d done to deserve this suffering. During one hospital exam, I was in so much pain that I thought I was going to die. In this moment I feared for my life and my future, but Gustavo grabbed me and reminded me of the things I used to teach him back when he was investigating the Church.
“Now is the time to put those teachings into practice,” he said. “You need to have faith.”
I thought of Ether 12:12: “For if there be no faith among the children of men God can do no miracle among them; wherefore, he showed not himself until after their faith.” Gustavo helped me believe in a miracle—without him, I may have lost hope. He reminded me of the eternal love and enabling power of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and that I was not beyond their promised blessings. I am forever grateful that he helped keep the fire of faith alive in me.
Gustavo not only supported (and continues to support) me spiritually, but he also supported me emotionally. When I was sick, people pitied me and felt sorry for me, but Gustavo didn’t. Of course, he listened to my worries and held me when I cried, but he also encouraged me, joked with me, and got me out of the house when I was depressed. Gustavo was a light to me during this dark time and helped instill a confidence in me that my illness had taken away.
If your significant other is struggling, do things that will lift them up. Show them that you care about them. Support them when they are happy and when they are sad. Help them to strengthen their relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Gustavo does these things. His optimism and love helped us build a relationship that withstood my illness.

“Maybe you’re right. My cousin used to make sack lunches for her dad. He rode to work in a car pool, and the other men liked his lunches—she always put a little extra treat inside or wrote him a note. Pretty soon she was making lunches for everyone in the car pool, and they each paid her. Maybe we could do something like that,” Tom said. He was starting to catch Jim’s excitement, but Jim issued a friendly word of caution.