Gospel Story Finder

Making the extra effort to get an edge over their competition means extra study. One girl was overheard saying, “I studied every minute I could this week in between classes at school.” Since seminary is either held early-mornings or taken by home-study, it’s hard to get together with your team to review. Chris and Brad Hammock of the Noble Ward recruited their mother and sister to give them clues about things they studied in seminary and read in the New Era.

We were fortunate to attend the Melbourne Temple in November 2019 for a few days. Little did we realise it would be our last trip for a significant amount of time. Before the pandemic, my husband and I would attend the temple anywhere between one and four times a year. To get there we would either take a flight or a ferry. Some years that has been hard financially, so we made the trip less often. Some of those trips were day trips; others lasted a few days.
When the temple and our state borders closed during the COVID-19 pandemic, I wondered how I would keep the temple as a meaningful part of my life. I felt strengthened by feelings of the Holy Ghost that even though the temple was closed, the blessings of my temple covenants were not closed to me. I felt an added closeness to the Lord, particularly when I focussed on serving others, whether in my own family or those I minister to.
I spent time reviewing in my mind the covenants I have made, the feelings I have experienced in the temple, and the knowledge I have gained. I reviewed in my mind the wording of the ordinances. I continued researching my family history, entering names and sources into FamilySearch, and sharing those names with the temple. I look forward to seeing the list of shared names start to be completed when the temples reopen.

I think often of another boy. We met him at a seminary graduation in a remote city in Argentina. He was well clothed and well nourished.

The students came down the aisle up to the stand. There were three rather high steps. He could not make the first step because his legs were too short. He was a dwarf.

It was then we noticed marching behind him two stalwart young men who stepped forward, one on either side, and lifted him gracefully to the podium. When the service was over, they lifted him down again and then marched out with him. They were his friends and watched over him. This boy could not reach the first step without being lifted up by his friends.

In the 1959 April general conference, President David O. McKay taught this principle, as have the prophets since his day, including President Thomas S. Monson. President McKay related in his closing comments that in 1923 in the British Mission, there was a general instruction sent out to the members of the Church. They were told not to spend money on advertising to combat the bad feelings of the people against the Church. President McKay said the decision was: “Throw the responsibility upon every member of the Church that in the coming year of 1923 every member will be a missionary. Every member a missionary! You may bring your mother into the Church, or it may be your father; perhaps your fellow companion in the workshop. Somebody will hear the good message of the truth through you.”

And President McKay continued: “And that is the message today. Every member—a million and a half—a missionary!”2

My wife, Elisa, was similarly blessed and met sister missionaries who taught her the gospel and brought her into the fold. My wife has also kept in touch with the missionaries who taught her the gospel.

A good example of service is a man named Mr. Gabriel. He saw that many children in East Africa needed help. He asked other teachers to help him make what they called “tree schools.” Children came to have lessons under the shade of a tree. Mr. Gabriel did not wait for others to do something. He did what he could to help thousands of children learn.

Take 16-year-old Jeferson Montenegro of Canoas and Suelen Alexandre (15), José Meirelles (18), Priscila Cavalieri (18), Carlita Fochetto (14), and Carolina (16), Christiane (15), and Carlos Rodriguez (12), of São Paulo (pictured above). These young people volunteer in their family history centers for 10–20 hours each week, assisting Church members in their research, entering extracted names into the computer system, and searching for names of their own ancestors.
These teens aren’t unusual. Many Brazilian youth have found the names of hundreds of their ancestors and eagerly begun their temple work. Why? “I feel the influence of the spirit of Elijah,” says Jeferson. “It makes me feel a closeness with those who’ve gone before me.”

Not long ago Sister Dunn and I attended a stake conference in Marilia, Brazil. Marilia is a beautiful city of 100,000 in the southeast interior of the country. The Sunday session had just concluded. The theme was the atonement of Christ and how he is the Savior of the whole world.

Some had traveled by bus for more than three hours to be at this meeting. As we were shaking hands, a young lady came up. She first stopped in front of the mission president and asked how to say “I love you” in English. She then stood in front of Sister Dunn and me and with a broad smile and great sincerity said “I love you.” It seemed a little thing, but it touched our hearts. It was the effort of a humble follower of Christ to express herself. The message could have been said in any language and been understood.

The spirit of love reaches across language barriers. There is a purity about it that lifts the soul and causes us all to realize that we are the children of the same God.

When I was a young man, my home was on Long Island about 30 miles from New York City. We had woods around us, and we enjoyed nature. My father had a large yard with hedges, rock gardens, fish pool, vegetable garden, lawns, and trees. They all required regular care. There were always chores, like cutting the lawn in the summer and raking leaves in the autumn. I thought we worked pretty hard taking care of our yard, but it was nothing like my father’s boyhood on the sugar beet farm in Burton, Idaho.
One day my father said to me, “You’re never going to learn how to work until you go out and work on the ranch with your Uncle Frank.” So I spent that summer in Skull Valley near Tooele, Utah, learning how to work.
The change from the lush greenery of my home in Long Island and Skull Valley’s dusty, stark desert environment was hard for me to believe. It gave me an appreciation of the first impressions the pioneers coming from Europe and the eastern part of the United States must have had when they were told, “This is the place.”
I had grown up near a large city. Ranch life was an education for me. I was impressed to see the cattle and the horses and the hard work necessary to bring about the harvest. I can remember the feelings when I first realized that an enormous amount of preparation was necessary before the crops were brought in. We had to plow, disk, harrow, plant, cultivate, weed, irrigate and then continue to cultivate, weed, and irrigate, endlessly it seemed. That summer was a great lesson to me. It is a cherished part of my heritage, because it was here in this almost desolate, remote corner of the world that I learned the law of the harvest.

One of our missionaries in the South, while I was the mission president there, preached about that dream and the establishment of the Lord’s latter-day kingdom. I stood at the door at the close of the meeting, and a man came up and introduced himself as a minister. He said, “You don’t mean to tell me you think that kingdom is the Mormon church, do you?”
And I said, “Yes, sir. Why not?”
He said, “It couldn’t be.”
I said, “Why couldn’t it?”
He said, “You can’t have a kingdom without a king, and you don’t have a king, so you don’t have a kingdom.”
“Oh,” I said, “my friend, you didn’t read far enough. You just read the seventh chapter of Daniel and you will see where Daniel saw ‘one like the Son of man’ coming in the clouds of heaven unto the Ancient of Days. And unto him was given the kingdom, that all other kingdoms, powers, and dominions under the whole heavens should serve and obey him” (see Dan. 7:13–14).
Then I said: “My friend, tell me, how can a kingdom be given to him when he comes in the clouds of heaven if a kingdom is not prepared for him?” I said: “Maybe you would like to know what is going to become of that kingdom. If you will read a little further, Daniel said something like this: The kingdom and the power and the dominion under the whole heavens shall be given unto the Saints of the Most High God, that they might possess the kingdom for ever (see Dan. 7:18, 27). And as if that were not quite long enough Daniel adds, ‘Even for ever and ever.’”

And so, as resurrection and death and life are important to achieving perfection, so also is birth. And with the thought, my mind comes back again to Bethlehem, the Bethlehem of today. My wife and our group move about with the surging crowds, we are jostled and pushed. We are nearly drowned in the ocean of innumerable bodies and faces. It is hard to concentrate upon the sacred reason for our coming. There is little on the hill which can stir our reverence or satisfy our longing to be alone with our thoughts.
We have our taxi take us to the hill overlooking the shepherds’ field. Below us in the little valley is the field of Boaz and Ruth. Before us is the undulating area where shepherds once watched their sheep. On the brow of the hill is a cave opening out over the little valley. There, tradition says, the shepherds slept and watched on that eventful night. An open cave could protect them from the night’s coolness, yet still they could watch their flocks. There, gazing into the valley, the only place near Bethlehem where we could find privacy, we stood in the dark, looking out into the starry sky as did the shepherds.
Did not the angels sing that night? We, too, seemed to hear faint music, not loud, but in symphonic harmony it deeply penetrated our hearts. We seemed to hear singing in unison, the unforgettable melody, the cry of the ages: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14).
As the strains of the heavenly words merged with our hearts, we four sang. After singing “Far, far away on Judea’s plains, shepherds of old hear the joyous strains,” (Hymns No. 33) we stood close together in the starlighted night with our wraps pulled tightly about us—physically close, mentally close, spiritually close, emotionally close; and we communed. No lights but the twinkling lanterns in the heavens, no sound but the whispering of our subdued voices. Our Father seemed to be very near. His Son seemed close. We prayed. More in unison than a single voice, our four hearts poured out love and gratitude that rose to mingle with the prayers of all mankind that night.
We prayed our gratitude. We prayed our love. Like the raising of the flood gate releasing the long confined pent up waters behind a dam, voices almost inaudible, mellowed with reverence, softened by the intangible forces of the heavenly world, we sincerely gave a prayer of thanksgiving: grateful, Father, that we know so positively that thou dost live; that we know the babe born here was in reality thy Son; grateful that thy Church program is real, workable and exalting. We told him we knew him, we loved him, we would follow him. We repledged to his cause our lives, our all.

What does that partnership look like in the lives of covenant women today? Let me share an example.
Alison and John had a partnership that was unique. They rode a tandem bicycle in races short and long. To successfully compete on that vehicle, the two riders must be in harmony. They have to lean in the same direction at the right time. One cannot dominate the other, but they must communicate clearly and each do his or her part. The captain, in front, has control over when to brake and when to stand. The stoker, in the back, needs to pay attention to what is going on and be ready to give extra power if they lag behind a little or to ease up if they get too close to other cyclists. They must support one another to make progress and achieve their goal.
Alison explained: “For the first little while, the person in the captain position would say ‘Stand’ when we needed to stand and ‘Braking’ when we needed to stop pedaling. After a while, the person who was the stoker learned to tell when the captain was about to stand or brake, and no words needed to be said. We learned to be in tune to how each other was doing and could tell when one was struggling and [then] the other tried to pick up the slack. It’s really all about trust and working together.”
John and Alison were united not only as they pedaled their bicycle, but they were united in their marriage as well. Each desired the happiness of the other more than his or her own; each looked for the good in one another and worked to overcome the not-so-great in him or herself. They took turns leading and took turns giving more when one partner was struggling. Each valued the other’s contributions and found better answers to their challenges as they combined their talents and resources. They are truly bound to one another through Christlike love.

I live where there are a lot of thunderstorms and heavy rain, which can be scary for me. Whenever a storm comes, I immediately grab the Friend magazine and begin reading it to help me feel better. I always feel the Holy Ghost when I read the Friend.
Danielle J., age 11, Virginia, USA

In 1967 Bent had come to British Columbia, Canada, where I worked at the government employment office. He was looking for work and a place to stay. I found him work, and Martha and I agreed that we had room for one more boarder. We already had two, one of whom was Svend Hansen, a strong Church member.
Svend soon challenged Bent to read the Book of Mormon, and Bent did so with the intention of finding fault with it. Finding none, he wanted to be baptized. He was the first person baptized in our new stake center.

“Our first night out after starting on our journey, we camped on the prairie; Father had unyoked the cattle and turned them out to feed on the grass. He had to look after them to keep them from straying away. We had picked up enough fuel to make a good fire and Mother was preparing supper, when all at once there came up a most terrific thunderstorm. The rain poured down in torrents and we were all drenched. Although we got into the wagon as soon as we could, the wind blew the rain with such force that the wagon was very little protection. Of course, the fire was put out which didn’t help the preparations for supper that night. However, the next morning the sun shone bright, everything got dry, and we continued on our journey.”

Those who serve as stake presidents do not seek the office they hold. All are humbled and some are overwhelmed when they are called. As I called a stake president in Europe who had been a member of the Church only about 10 years, he gasped, “Oh no, no, not me. I cannot do it.” Fortunately, his wonderful wife, who was at his side, put her arms around him and said, “Honey, you can do it. I know you can.” She was right, and he served very well.

The need for an adequate building was evident and President Brigham Young commissioned the preparation of plans for a new structure that became known as the Great Tabernacle, the one in which we are seated today. Only fifteen years had passed since the arrival of the first pioneers in this desert valley. At the April conference of 1863, many of the speakers mentioned the proposed building and made appeals for all to join in the sacrifice of financing and construction. It was an ambitious undertaking for people in an outpost settlement with only limited building materials and without the benefit of a railroad for transportation. Any imported materials had to be hauled from the Missouri River by oxteam. The building was to be erected by donation because tithing funds were needed for the temple that had been under construction for ten years. The Saints were invited to donate liberally of their substance—jewelry, building materials, bread, and labor, inasmuch as cash was scarce.
It was decided that the building should be 250 feet long and 150 feet wide with semicircular ends and 46 piers to support the roof structure. The plans provided for an elliptical arch roof, rising 44 feet from the top of the 20-foot piers, making the distance from the floor to the roof 64 feet. The floor was to slant from the back to the front with a 16-foot elevation so there would be less visual obstruction. At the time of its planning and construction, it was said to be the largest building in the world unsupported by columns.
In the spring of 1863 the building was commenced. The large red sandstone blocks were quarried in Red Butte Canyon in the mountains back of Fort Douglas and most of the lumber was cut in the pine forests of the Wasatch Mountains and sawed in mills in Big Cottonwood Canyon. The center section of the tabernacle was built first, then the west-curving end section was added so the construction and installation of the organ could commence. Bolts, nails, and steel straps were not available. Where the timbers crossed, holes were bored through the beams and dowels were driven into the holes and cut so that they extended on each side. The ends were spread by a wedge to hold them securely in place. When timbers split, they were wrapped with green rawhide that contracted as it dried, holding the beam in a viselike grip.

Rachel’s greatest Christmas gift was her strengthened testimony as a result of the production. “I grew so much closer to the Savior through prayers, scripture study, and pondering. He blessed me with a calm assurance that He cares about me. I was so worried, but when I just trusted in Him, He helped me to replace my fear with faith.”

In Tolkien’s trilogy, The Lord of The Rings, there is a conversation towards the end of the book between Gandalf and Frodo. Frodo frankly acknowledges the impact his long quest has had upon him. He questions his ability to heal from the injuries inflicted and to truly find rest.
“Alas, there are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured,” said Gandalf.
“I fear it may be so with mine,” said Frodo. “There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same: for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?”
Gandalf did not answer.”

One girl went to shop for napkins. As she put 12 packages of 144 napkins into her cart, a lady down the aisle gasped, turned to her husband, and whispered, “Oh, poor dear. She must belong to a huge family.” The steering committee giggled about that comment later but agreed it was at least partly true.