Gospel Story Finder

Dad called everybody to the computer. Lucy dropped the stuffed giraffe she was playing with and hurried over. What was going on? Was it time to call Grandma online?
Dad pointed to the computer screen. “I wanted to show you part of a talk from general conference.”
Lucy squinted. It wasn’t Grandma. It was President Eyring! He was in the First Presidency.
Dad pushed play. President Eyring taught about supporting your Church leaders. He explained how Church leaders need us to pray for them.
“That’s why we pray for the prophet, right, Dad?” asked her little brother, David. Dad and Mom both nodded.
“Yes, we do,” Dad said. “But I also keep thinking about our branch presidency. I think President Alvarez and his counselors need our prayers too.”
Lucy loved President Alvarez and his counselors. They were always so nice to her. She wanted to help them!
“I’m going to pray for them,” Lucy said. “And we can pray for them in our family prayers too!”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Mom said. “Let’s do it.”
For the next few days, Lucy tried hard to remember to pray for the branch presidency whenever she said a prayer. It only took a few extra seconds each time. Easy!
The next Sunday in sacrament meeting, President Alvarez stood up after the hymn. Then he said something that made Lucy’s eyes get wide.
“As a branch presidency, we wanted to thank you for praying for us,” he said. “We have felt very real strength from those prayers. We really need your faith and prayers to do our callings. Thank you!”
Lucy grinned. She looked over at David. He was smiling too. She couldn’t believe it! She was so excited that she could hardly sit still. She leaned over and tugged on Mom’s sleeve.
“Mom!” she whispered. “Did you hear what President Alvarez said?!” She wanted to jump up and down. “It worked! Our prayers really worked!”
After church, Lucy and her family walked home together.
“God really does hear our prayers,” Mom said. “And isn’t it amazing to see how powerful it is for a group of people to pray for someone else?”
Lucy felt warm and happy inside. She and David skipped down the sidewalk while Mom and Dad walked behind them. She knew Heavenly Father had heard her family’s prayers. They were truly making a difference. Just by praying!
That night, Lucy got ready to say her prayers. She thought about her Primary teacher and other Church leaders who could use some extra blessings. Maybe she would pray for them too! Lucy folded her arms and bowed her head. She knew just what to say.

At Brigham Young University we have had some great athletic coaches. We have them now and we have had them in the past. One of these of long ago was Eugene L. Roberts. He grew up in Provo and drifted aimlessly with the wrong kind of friends. Then something remarkable happened. I read you his own words. He wrote:
“Several years ago when Provo City was scarred with unsightly saloons and other questionable forms of amusement, I was standing one evening on the street, waiting for my gang to show up, when I noticed that the [Provo] tabernacle was lighted up and that a large crowd was moving in that direction. I had nothing to do so I drifted over there and went in. I thought I might find some of my gang, or at least some of the girls that I was interested in. Upon entering, I ran across three or four of the fellows and we placed ourselves under the gallery where there was a crowd of young ladies, who seemed to promise entertainment. We were not interested in what came from the pulpit. We knew that the people on the rostrum were all old fogies. They didn’t know anything about life, and they certainly couldn’t tell us anything, for we knew it all. So we settled down to have a good time. Right in the midst of our disturbance there thundered from the pulpit the following [statement]:
“‘You can’t tell the character of an individual by the way he does his daily work. Watch him when his work is done. See where he goes. Note the companions he seeks, and the things he does when he may do as he pleases. Then you can tell his true character.’
“I looked up toward the rostrum,” Roberts continued, “because I was struck with this powerful statement. I saw there a slim, dark-haired fierce-eyed fighting-man whom I knew and feared; but didn’t have any particular love for.”
As he continued, “[the speaker] went on to make a comparison. He said: ‘Let us take the eagle, for example. This bird works as hard and as efficiently as any other animal or bird in doing its daily work. It provides for itself and its young by the sweat of its brow, so to speak; but when its daily work is over and the eagle has time of its own to do just as it pleases, note how it spends its recreational moments. It flies in the highest realms of heaven, spreads its wings and bathes in the upper air, for it loves the pure, clean atmosphere and the lofty heights.
“‘On the other hand, let us consider the hog. This animal grunts and grubs and provides for its young just as well as the eagle; but when its working hours are over and it has some recreational moments, observe where it goes and what it does. The hog will seek out the muddiest hole in the pasture and will roll and soak itself in filth, for this is the thing it loves. People can be either eagles or hogs in their leisure time.’
“Now when I heard this short speech,” said Gene Roberts, “I was dumbfounded. I turned to my companions abashed for I was ashamed to be caught listening. What was my surprise to find everyone of the gang with his attention fixed upon the speaker and his eyes containing a far-away expression.
“We went out of the tabernacle that evening rather quiet and we separated from each other unusually early. I thought of that speech all the way home. I classified myself immediately as of the hog family. I thought of that speech for years. That night there was implanted within me the faintest beginnings of ambition to lift myself out of the hog group and to rise to that of the eagle. …
“There was instilled within me that same evening, the urge to help fill up the mud holes in the social pasture so that those people with hog tendencies would find it difficult to wallow in recreational filth. As a result of constant thinking about that speech, I was stirred to devote my whole life and my profession toward developing wholesome recreational activities for the young people, so that it would be natural and easy for them to indulge in the eagle-type of leisure.
“The man who made that speech which affected my life more than any other speech I ever heard, was President George H. Brimhall. May God bless him!” (Raymond Brimhall Holbrook and Esther Hamilton Holbrook, The Tall Pine Tree: The Life and Work of George H. Brimhall [n.p., 1988], pp. 111–13).
That simple story, told by a great teacher, turned around the life of a drifter and made of him an able and gifted leader. I repeat it tonight because I think that most of us are constantly faced with a choice of whether we wallow in the mire or fly to lofty heights.

Religious observance in the home blesses our families. Example is particularly important. What we are speaks so loudly that our children may not hear what we say. When I was nearly five years old, my mother received word that her younger brother had been killed when the battleship on which he was serving was bombed off the coast of Japan near the end of World War II. This news was devastating to her. She was very emotional and went into the bedroom. After a while I peeked into the room to see if she was OK. She was kneeling by the bed in prayer. A great peace came over me because she had taught me to pray and love the Savior. This was typical of the example she always set for me. Mothers and fathers praying with children may be more important than any other example.

“Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”
Who is my neighbor? Someone asked that question, then answered it: “I don’t know his name, but his dog tramples down my flowers. His boy honks the horn and keeps me awake at night, and his children make so much noise I can’t enjoy life. But yesterday I noticed some black crepe at his window, and I knew that someone had passed away. I decided it was time I became acquainted with my neighbor.”
Let us not wait for that type of event before we become acquainted with our neighbor and show love for him or for her.

Can you imagine enlisting the aid of a computer to help you plan and prepare dinner? Some people do just that. If they are having friends over who have been there before, they may first ask the computer about their friends’ food preferences—if that data was previously entered into the computer’s memory bank. Then, if they have also entered all of their favorite recipes into the computer (or if they subscribe to a service that supplies such recipes for a small fee), they can “call up” a listing of suitable menus.

After selecting the menu appropriate for the occasion, a homemaker may then inquire about the amounts of different foods needed. She may also learn whether all the needed items are at the grocery store at that time of year and perhaps even an estimate of the cost involved. If she has to be away from the house during the period when the different dishes need to be cooked, the computer could additionally be programmed to start and stop the oven and stove-top heating coils at appropriate times.

After visiting members in Japan and Korea, Elder Dallin H. Oaks said, “The Lord is mindful of His children. He knows their circumstances and concerns and is gracious in His love.” In a Face to Face event in Korea, he replied to questions from youth. He met with the minister in charge of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics. And at the request of the president of Peru, Elder Oaks visited to receive the president’s thanks for the Church’s help during floods.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004), a former member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, did this for me. In 2004, I visited him in his hospital room not long before he died. He was so kind to everyone who visited or helped him. Health care workers went into his room and came out weeping.
“Elder Maxwell, this is really hard,” I said.
“Oh, Dale,” he chuckled. “We are eternal beings living in a mortal world. We are out of our element, like fish out of water. It is only when we have an eternal perspective that any of this will make any sense.”

For example, David thought there might be something funny about the signs he sees on doors that say, “This door must remain unlocked during business hours.” Then he tried to imagine a situation where that sign would be funny.
“I had an inmate at a prison write this on a sign,” said David, “and post it on the prison door with a guard reading it and unlocking the door. The caption said, ‘Mel knew it was a long shot, but somehow it worked.’”

President Heber J. Grant told the story of two men who had quarreled about business dealings. They came to President John Taylor and asked him to settle the matter. President Taylor consented, but said: “‘Brethren, before I hear your case, I would like very much to sing one of the songs of Zion for you.’
“Now President Taylor was a very capable singer, and interpreted sweetly and with spirit, our sacred hymns. He sang one of our hymns to the two brethren. Seeing its effect, he remarked that he never heard one of the songs of Zion but that he wanted to listen to one more, and so asked them to listen while he sang another. Of course, they consented. They both seemed to enjoy it.”
Then President Taylor sang a third and a fourth hymn. When he finished, the two men “were melted to tears, got up, shook hands, and asked President Taylor to excuse them … for taking up his time. They then departed without his even knowing what their difficulties were” (Improvement Era, September 1940, page 522).

Shortly afterward, President Naga was interviewed to be associate area director of the Church Educational System. When he declined because he did not feel he had the proper education or qualifications to serve well in that position, his supervisor, Robert Perrington, disagreed. “I’ve been sitting up all night thinking about this,” he said. “At four o’clock this morning your name came clearly to me.”
President Naga went home to consult his wife. After the couple prayed for some time, Maryann said, “You go back and tell Brother Perrington that if the Brethren want you to do it, you will do it.”
President Naga has been blessed as he carries out his responsibilities. “When the Lord calls you to a position,” he says, “he provides a way for you to fulfill it.”

If you are among the first to have embraced the gospel in your family, build bridges to your posterity by recording the events of your life and writing words of encouragement to them. In 1892 sisters of the Kolob Stake in Springville, Utah, wrote letters to their children and sealed them in a time capsule to be opened March 17, 1942, the centennial anniversary of the Relief Society. After recording a brief genealogy of her family reaching back to those who first joined the Church, Mariah Catherine Boyer wrote the following to her two children: “Dear children, when you read this, parents and grandparents will be sleeping in the silent tomb. Those hands that toiled so hard in love for you will toil no more, and those eyes that gazed in love and approbation on your innocent brows will see you no more, until we meet in heaven. Dear children, … may the bands of a sister and a brother’s love entwine your hearts. … Do right by your fellowmen, follow the dictates of your conscience, ask God to give you power to resist all temptations to do evil, and let it be said of you, ‘that the world is better for you having lived in it.’ Keep the commandments of God. May your paths in life be strewn with flowers, and may you at all times do right. May you never taste adversity. May the Spirit and blessings of God attend you at all times is the prayer of your mother. I will enclose the photographs of our family. Goodbye my dear children, until we meet.” These tender and beautiful words have now bridged six generations of a faithful family.

The Language of the Spirit. Sister Kimberly Monika Johnson of Germany, attending the England MTC: “I’m grateful for my companion, Sister Iva Petkova, from Bulgaria. In our group of 12 sisters, eight nationalities are represented. I have grown to love each sister. Though we had language barriers, we have been able to communicate through the universal language of the Spirit. I’ve been filled with the Spirit each time I’ve heard them pray in their native languages and as they’ve said simple prayers in English.”

President Gordon B. Hinckley presided at the groundbreaking for the Sacramento California Temple on August 22, 2004. The temple will be the seventh in the state.
Prior to the groundbreaking, President Hinckley addressed nearly 2,000 members gathered at the Fair Oaks California Stake Center, adjacent to the temple site, and offered a short dedicatory prayer. Thousands more viewed the proceedings via satellite broadcast in 40 meetinghouses within the temple district. The temple will serve about 80,000 California residents, with boundaries from Stockton to Red Bluff.
“I pray that this building, when it is dedicated, standing in your midst, will bring with that dedication an added spirit of testimony and faith, of love for the Lord and His great work, of dedication to the work of His cause and His kingdom,” said President Hinckley before dedicating the site. “I pray that families may be blessed and prospered and live together in love and peace with respect and appreciation one for another. I pray that the gospel light may shine on the countenances of the members of this Church in this area, that they may be known and recognized as those who walk in that light which has come from the God of heaven through the restoration of His great work in this the last and final dispensation of time. I pray that the Spirit of the Lord may rest upon this whole area and that that Spirit may touch the hearts and minds of men and women who will embrace the gospel and partake of its richest blessings.”
President Hinckley met several local priesthood leaders and Latter-day Saint politicians outside for the groundbreaking. Roseville Mayor F. C. “Rocky” Rockholm, California State Representative John Doolittle, and President Hinckley all used gold-plated shovels to break ground.
Church News contributed to this report.

Freda was glad to be home. It was good to be with her family again. She had been away to a special school for a while so she could learn how to read braille and take care of herself without bumping into things. She had also learned that the only way she was different from other people was that she could not see.
Still, Freda found it difficult to adjust to another school. She had books printed in braille so she could learn along with the other students. But she wanted to join in some of the other activities, particularly the art contest the teacher had announced at school today.
Freda couldn’t paint a picture. She didn’t even know what blue looked like, though people had tried to tell her. The sky could be blue, red, orange, or yellow, for all she knew.
After arriving home from school Freda went into her room, sat in her rocking chair, and tried to think of something she could make for the contest. Her cat Fluffy jumped onto her lap and cuddled down to have his ears rubbed. As Freda rocked and petted Fluffy, she began to feel sad because she couldn’t see to paint a picture.
Then an idea started running through Freda’s mind. Suddenly she stopped rocking and began to laugh.
Fluffy, who had been purring contentedly, sat up in alarm and nudged Freda with his paws to remind her to pet him some more. “Not now, Fluffy,” Freda said putting him on the floor and hurrying into the kitchen.
“Mother, could you buy me some clay so I can make a statue for the art show?” she asked excitedly.
“That’s great idea, dear. I’ll buy the clay tomorrow,” her mother promised.
The next afternoon Freda’s mother gave her a box and told her, “You add water to the clay until it’s the right consistency to mold, then you can model whatever you want. When you’re finished, we’ll put it in the oven so it will harden like stone.”
Freda covered the table with newspapers and started to work. When she had the basic shape completed, she called Fluffy, who hopped into her lap. She petted the cat, molded the clay, and then she petted him some more.
Fluffy loved it and purred happily. He didn’t remember when he had been petted so much.
Day after day, Freda went to her room after school and worked on her statute. At last she was satisfied. Freda picked Fluffy up, hugged him, and said, “Thank you for being such a good model.” Then she carried her statute into the kitchen and placed it on a cookie sheet so her mother could put it into the oven to bake.
“It’s beautiful,” her mother told her when she took the statue out of the oven.
“I can hardly wait till it’s cool so I can see it, too,” Freda commented.
Then they both laughed—to Freda, “seeing” meant touching.
The next morning she ran her fingers all over the statue before carefully wrapping her entry in tissue paper to carry to school.
The judges for the art show studied the entries and then placed ribbons on the winners. In each grade there was a red ribbon for first place, a blue one for second place, and a white one for third place. A red, white, and blue ribbon would be awarded for the best entry in the whole school.
Finally, it was time for Freda’s class to go to the auditorium to see the display. Freda was happy that she had been able to enter the contest.
Everyone agreed with the judges’ choice of Freda’s clay cat as the top award.
“That cat looks almost real,” one boy said, admiring Freda’s statue. “You want to reach out and pet him.”
Freda smiled. She was glad Fluffy looked to others the same way he looked to her fingertips.

Peter Jeppson took the gasoline pump hose out of his tank and with a quick twist of his wrist, secured the tank cap. It was late Saturday night, and he had stopped for gasoline on his way home from his date. He was still thinking of his best friend’s news—a mission call. Peter, himself, would be sending in his own papers in just a few weeks.
As Peter drove through an intersection into the traffic on the main highway leading into Boise, Idaho, his car smashed head-on into another. On impact, the windshield of his car was knocked out and shattered on the street. The full gas tank located in the front of his rear-engined car burst.
Gas sloshed up the hood right through the open window catching me right in the eyes, covering me and the inside of the car completely. Somehow flames were ignited, and the car burst into a blazing fire. It was then that some people who were passing by saw the accident and quickly stopped. Three men were able to get close enough to my car to open the door. The flames were two times as high as the car. They couldn’t find me because the flames were so intense. They threw their coats in the open car door to cover the flames until they could see my hand. The three of them grabbed my hand and pulled me from the wreckage. They rolled me over and over to put out the fire.
Peter had borrowed his brother’s thick, Scottish wool sweater for his date that night. The trunk of his body and his arms down to the wrists, the areas covered by the sweater, were the only parts not burned. It was the fact that he was wearing this sweater that saved his life.
In 1965, Peter was living in his hometown of Boise, Idaho, preparing for a mission like many of his friends. The day of the accident changed all that. He was forced into an experience that would test him to the limit. And it was his triumph over adversity that changed his life.

Quite a few years ago the Green Bay Packers won the Super Bowl for the second consecutive year and for ten years had dominated professional football. After that victory, the television crew was in the dressing room, and the interviewer had the microphone right under the chin of the great coach, the late Vince Lombardi. His question was, “How come the Packers win all the time? Your blocking techniques, tackling techniques, game plan, kicking game—all are very similar to everyone else’s in the league. How come the Packers win all the time?”

Vince Lombardi was a very emotional man, a very verbal man, but it took him a long while to get it out. Finally he wiped a tear from his cheek and said, “The Packers win because the Packers love each other.” If you had ever seen Henry Jordan or Ray Nitschke, you know that only a mother could love those guys. This is the thing that makes the gospel so vital. The gospel, the good news of the Lord and Savior, is the gospel of love. That’s the thing that makes it go.

On Wednesday, May 21, Elder Kearon met again with Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David of the Diocese of Kalookan at San Roque Cathedral compound in Caloocan City. Together, the two faith leaders ministered to 250 parolees and former detainees participating in the diocese’s Kaagapay Ministry Project, a community-based drug rehabilitation program. Elder Kearon led in the donation of Church-published emotional resilience materials as well as food and hygiene kits to the participants.

“It was wonderful to see Cardinal David again,” Elder Kearon beamed, “he is constantly caring for those who might be forgotten.” In turn, Cardinal David expressed appreciation for Elder Kearon and the Church’s efforts: “The elders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have been our partners in our many advocacies since I was still an auxiliary bishop of San Fernando, Pampanga, and serving as parish priest of Holy Rosary Parish.”

One day as one of my sons bade me farewell prior to his leaving for high school, I noticed he had forgotten to tie his shoelaces. For a fleeting second, I was tempted to turn the moment into the major crisis of the week, but, thankfully, I let it pass. A few days later we went to a school function where, to my amazement, I observed the shoelaces of all of the young men were untied. I then realized my son had fallen victim to another fad. I think it was in this same year that I found out it was no longer socially acceptable to go to school with boots, gloves, or earmuffs.

Let us listen to another young woman pouring out her heart:
““They always say something must happen in your life so you want to change. Well, that something has happened. I still have a long way to go. I finally realized that my Father in Heaven is on my side, even though I have betrayed him in a way. I am trying awfully hard to get my life in order and do what is right. I am bound and determined to, no matter how long it takes—but it is so hard. I just wish of all things I could go up and give Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother a big hug and tell them that I made it back.”

I was first introduced to FamilySearch indexing (see page 42) in one of my mom’s Relief Society meetings. I didn’t really understand what it was, but I thought it would be a terrific way to pass off a value project in my Personal Progress booklet. Luckily, my neighbor was able to help me get started.
At first, it was just about getting the 10 hours done. Little did I know that it would be so much more than that. It was so cool to see how old these records were and just have the feeling of helping people find their family history. Now, when I go to the temple, I get an even more powerful feeling than I did before. It makes me feel happy inside.
Indexing also affected my family. My father works in the Church’s Family History Department. When he saw me doing indexing, I could see a spark of excitement go through him. I learned more about his work, and we spent quality time together. Later, I taught my mom how to index and helped with workshops for ward members. After I had finished my 10-hour value project, I found myself still indexing. In about two and a half months, I was able to get over a thousand records done.