Gospel Story Finder

Anne had lived in Japan only about a year. Today she was excited about going to her first Tanabata (Star Festival) party at the home of Masanari.
It was a rainy afternoon and Anne held up her umbrella as she splashed along through the puddles on the narrow lane.
The tiny trinket shop was selling gilt paper comets and streamers for Tanabata. Down the passageways between houses were trailing bamboo branches decorated for the Star Festival.
Masanari’s mother slid open the door of their house when Anne arrived.
“Irasshaimase, Anne-chan (Welcome, little Anne),” she said.
Anne sat down on a stone step in the entryway and tugged off her boots and shoes before entering the house.
Then she put on some tiny, pink slippers and flip-flopped down the hall. Her friends from school were all there. Keiko, Jiro, and Masanari sat on the woven tatami (straw) mat floor in the middle of a rainbow of colored papers making origami (paper folding) decorations for Tanabata. Some of the other mothers who had been invited, were busy making decorations too.
“Come, we’ll show you how, Anne-chan,” said Jiro’s mother as she finished folding a tiny red crab. First, she showed them how to make two familiar animals. (See page 31.)
1. Take a square of paper and fold the corners together.
2. Fold one corner down.
3. Fold the other corner down.
4. Fold the bottom and the top back.
5. Draw a few pencil lines for the face.
1. Take a square piece of paper and fold the corners together.
2. Fold tips down.
3. Fold one corner up.
4. Fold the other corner up.
5. Turn the paper over and draw a face.
The children folded red dogs and purple cats and blue dogs and orange cats. They drew happy faces on some and fierce faces on others.
“Have you sometimes heard insects screeching in the trees?” asked Jiro’s mother. “Those are cicadas. We can make origami cicadas too.”
1. Take a square piece of paper and fold the corners together.
2. Fold up the top flap first.
3. Then fold up the bottom flap.
4. Now it looks like this.
5. Turn it over and fold back the two sides.
6. Your completed cicada should look like this.
“Watch me fold an elephant,” said Jiro.
1. Fold two corners of a square of paper so that they meet in the center to form a kite shape.
2. Fold the kite shape in half down the center.
3. Fold the longest tip forward.
4. Then fold it back to the left.
5. Open out the inside corner of the top flap and spread it back.
6. Fold the top half down behind the figure.
7. Open out the tip of the elephant’s trunk and tuck it down inside itself.
8. Cut out the legs and tail and draw on tusks and eyes.
“Look at my lantern,” said Keiko.
1. Fold two sides of an oblong piece of paper in until they meet at the center.
2. Fold each corner forward to the center.
3. Fold the tips back.
4. Fold each corner forward again and then turn the paper over.
5. Gently push the top tip up and the bottom tip down and open them out.
6. This is what the lantern should look like.
“The most famous of all is the sacred crane,” said Jiro’s mother as she took a square of metallic gold paper. “The crane is a beautiful white bird with red-tipped head and black-edged wings. It comes every summer to our islands. To the Japanese it means long life and happiness.”
Her deft fingers worked faster than Anne could follow, making tiny, complicated folds. A delicate creature with graceful spreading wings was soon completed.
She set the lovely bird on the palm of her hand and held it out to Anne. “This is the orizuru or folded crane,” she said.
Keiko, too, worked very fast and knew many folds. Soon she had a great pile of origami figures spilling over her lap.
“Here, Anne-chan, take some of mine,” she said.
Origami cranes and turtles and canoes and frogs and lanterns covered the floor. Masanari’s mother entered with bamboo branches and helped the children tie their bright origami creations to the boughs.
“They are truly beautiful!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it fun to have Tanabata to celebrate every year?” Then, Masanari’s mother told them a legend of the stars.
“Up in the sky there are two sad stars who love each other very much, but they are separated by the heavenly river, the Milky Way. Only on this one night of all the year can they cross the Milky Way and meet.
“However, if it rains, then the Milky Way will be flooded, and the poor, lonely stars will not be able to meet after all,” she said as she cocked her head sadly.
Anne listened quietly to the story. She remembered the puddles in the lane and her wet umbrella drying in the entryway.
“I think it’s raining, Tanakasan, “she said somberly.
“But we can hope it will stop, can’t we?” said Jiro’s mother as she ushered everyone in to dinner.
They sat on cushions on the tatami-covered floor around a low-legged lacquer table. For the mothers there were hashi (chopsticks) to eat with. For the children there were hashi and big tablespoons.
They were served bowls filled with haddock and rice, fish soup, tofu (soy bean curd), sashimi (raw tuna), and little pickled salads. Gelatin from the sea and crushed pineapple and handsful of rice candy were served for dessert.
It was dark now, and as the children poured out of the house, Masanari shouted, “It’s stopped raining! It’s stopped raining!”
“Now the stars can meet after all!” cried Keiko.
There were green and blue and white sparklers for everyone. With the mothers’ help, the children lit the sparklers and swung them in the darkness, making circles, figure eights, spirals, and zigzags while they laughed and chattered.
When the sparklers were gone they took up their Tanabata branches. Holding them aloft, they waved them slowly against the night sky as they sang a farewell song.
“The party is over. Our Star Festival is ended,” said Tanakasan.
Masanari could not let the evening end just yet. “Let’s walk everyone home, Mama-san,” he begged.
When they reached Anne’s apartment, everyone bowed and said, “O yasumi nasai (Good night. Please rest).”

I recently attended a week-long program in my state capital learning about government. I was far away from home and knew no one. I didn’t bring my scriptures along, but I did pack my June 2001 New Era. I didn’t know why at the time, but the magazine became a blessing to me. I read it each night. As I did, the comfort of the Spirit would wash over me. I also was prompted to pray for missionary experiences and had the opportunity to share the gospel with a few people I met. Thank you for publishing such a wonderful magazine. It truly is a blessing in my life.
Clare PleshekGresham, Wisconsin (via e-mail)

When I was nine, I moved away and no longer got to spend time in the garage with Grandpa. A few years later the distance multiplied when my grandparents were called to serve a mission in Hawaii. However, it was truly a blessing. My grandpa finally got the chance to serve the Lord as a missionary. Growing up in such a large family meant that money was limited, and a full-time mission wasn’t possible for him when he was young. While my grandpa had the desire to serve, a full-time mission involved a great deal of sacrifice. I had always wanted to serve a mission, and seeing my grandparents serve and the blessings that came from their service bolstered my desire. When my grandpa came back, the garage was waiting for him. The sounds of power tools and metal once again reverberated through the walls.

Weeks into their voyage, the crews that were with Columbus grew restless and fearful, and the captains of the Nina and the Pinta both wanted to turn back. Columbus would not give up, however, and he finally promised that if land was not sighted in forty-eight hours, they would turn back. That night in his cabin, Columbus “prayed mightily to the Lord,”* and on the very next day, October 12, land was sighted.

Equal to my fears of going to the bishop were my feelings of unworthiness to be at church with people who were living good lives and had not indulged in the sins I had committed. I was sure the first Sunday I returned to church that everyone would see right into my soul and know what I was guilty of and the feelings I was struggling with.

Instead, my anxieties were put to rest when members of the ward welcomed me back with loving fellowship. Repentance would have been much more difficult if I had gone from being a less-active member to a less-included member of the ward.

My brother and I were very close when he was in high school. We often had long talks and confided things we’d never tell anyone else. We were constantly teasing each other and playing games together. When he went on his mission, we wrote often, but it was during this time that my illness was discovered. My parents kept him informed about me and let him know of all the changes to expect in me when he got home, but I know I was still a complete shock to him when his mission ended in the spring. For a while I was afraid that our closeness had been destroyed, but now I know I was wrong. Over the summer we had some honest talks, and our love was strengthened. He is learning sign language so he will be able to better communicate with me, and our joy for teasing one another and playing games together has returned. We are also able to confide in each other again. It must be hard on him to have his playful little sister so changed, but he doesn’t show it. He just lets his love for me overflow all the more.

When the mission was reopened, thirty members of the small branch at Cuantla were waiting at the train station to greet the missionaries when they returned. Twelve children and some young adults began singing songs of welcome. Afterward they shouted, “Qué viven los misioneros!” (long live the missionaries), as they showered the elders with confetti.
The missionaries were then taken to a home that had been decorated with beautiful flowers and cedar boughs in honor of this special occasion. Following a delicious dinner, a meeting was held.
President Pratt in his report to the brethren in Salt Lake told of the joy of the people in welcoming the missionaries. Even the children had planned for a program during the evening. President Pratt said, “It was wonderful to note the progress of the children of the branch along lines of study upon which they had been started by the missionaries. Little tots that were babies in arms when the missionaries left got up and recited one or more of the Articles of Faith.”

Susan was eight years old. She had just been baptized. She was playing out in the yard with her sisters and some friends, and she went into the house to get a drink of water. Her mother said, “Susan, dinner’s ready. Will you please call your sisters to eat?” So she went to the door and called to them.
They really didn’t want to go in, so they argued and said, “Oh, no, it isn’t time for dinner. You are just teasing us.” And they accused her of not telling the truth.
Well, she gathered herself up in all of her eight-year-old dignity, put her hands on her hips, and said, “It is dinnertime. I’m telling you the truth, and you can believe me because I have been baptized.”
She knew that her baptism required of her a certain standard of behavior. Her choice was that she would tell the truth, and she was willing to commit to that.

When I look back into my life, 13 years ago, I remember the times I used to wander aimlessly with loneliness seeking for some kind of inspiration. And that’s the time when the Lord showed me this true church. I started coming to church and was baptized on October 16, 2005. Later I learned about the gospel regularly and followed it consistently, which helped me make wise choices in many aspects of my life, and this helped me grow spiritually.

The organ plays a beautiful, touching sacrament hymn. Ward members open their hymnals and begin to sing along, reflecting on Christ and the Atonement. And three young men reverently break bread in preparation for the passing of the sacrament. The three priests, Randy Hulet, Reuben Kendall, and Ethan Kennedy, of the State College First Ward in State College, Pennsylvania, are busy fulfilling one of many Aaronic Priesthood duties.
“It’s an honor to break the bread and bless the sacrament each Sunday,” says Ethan, 18. “It’s a big responsibility, and we, as priests, need to make sure that we’re worthy so we can perform this service for the congregation.”
Blessing the sacrament isn’t something that came naturally to Reuben, who recently joined the priests quorum as a 16-year-old. “I was so nervous. I thought, ‘This is going to be impossible. I’m going to mess up a lot.’ But I said a little prayer that I wouldn’t mess up, and I didn’t,” Reuben says.
Randy, 18, says that passing the sacrament as a deacon and helping to prepare it as a teacher gave him the confidence that he needed to administer the sacrament as a priest. He says that fulfilling his priesthood responsibilities earlier on made his duties as a priest seem “more real,” and that he had the desire to “say the sacrament prayers in a way that would be pleasing to Heavenly Father.”
Reuben says that every time he blesses the bread or water, he “feels the Spirit overwhelmingly.” He adds, “Just like the sacrament prayers never change, the way that I feel when I say them never changes, either. The Spirit is always there, so long as I am worthy to feel it. It’s a comfort. It’s there to help me do well.”
Not only do the three teens understand the importance of the ordinance, they also understand that wearing a white shirt and tie to church each Sunday is important because it shows respect for the ordinance and for Jesus Christ. “Despite the fact that I like colored shirts, I know that I should wear a white shirt when I help with the sacrament. White is a symbol of purity,” Ethan says.
Aside from administering the sacrament, the three priests also work hard to fulfill their other priesthood responsibilities as they prepare to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and serve missions, like teaching the gospel and assisting in missionary work.
These three young men have had home teaching assignments since they were 14, including Ethan who lived in Germany at that time. “My father and I would go home teaching to a woman who lived 45 minutes away. She was less active, so home teaching her was the only interaction she had with the Church each month,” Ethan says.
Having that assignment when he was younger and fulfilling his current home teaching assignment has helped Ethan understand the importance of teaching. Furthermore, he says, it has prepared him to serve a mission in the near future. “When I go on a mission, I’ll be able to teach people lessons and not have to worry about it because of my experiences as a home teacher,” Ethan says. “It’s a testimony to me of how the Aaronic Priesthood is helping me to prepare to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood.”
Reuben says that home teaching is great preparation for a mission because “it gets you more comfortable teaching lessons to people and using the Spirit to help you teach, and then that will later help you prepare for the MTC when you learn how to teach and on your mission when you’re actually teaching.”
Reuben remembers his experience as a 14-year-old teacher and going home-teaching for the first time. “I was kind of nervous because I hadn’t done it before, but then after I read over the lesson, I thought, ‘I can do this.’ Having the Spirit with me helped because it helped me to say the things that the people we were visiting needed to hear, even though I hadn’t originally planned on saying certain things,” Reuben says. “I’ve learned that in order to have the Spirit help you, you first have to prepare and try to be ready. If you can do that, it can help you out a lot.”
While administering the sacrament and teaching the gospel are duties that these three teens get to experience often, there are other priesthood duties that are fulfilled a little less frequently, like participating in a priesthood ordination or assisting in missionary work.
When Ethan’s younger brother was ordained a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood a year and a half ago, Ethan was able to participate in the ordination and blessing. “I was able to stand there for him. It was really cool. I was very happy that I could do that for him and support him,” Ethan says.
Most LDS teens at some point in their young lives are given opportunities in the Church that enable them to have spiritual experiences and gain a testimony. Such has been the case with Reuben, who attended a testimony meeting during a week at a camp in Pennsylvania for LDS young men.
“Throughout my deacon and teacher years in the Aaronic Priesthood, I had a testimony, but that night at camp truly affirmed that testimony,” Reuben says. “During that testimony meeting, I felt the power of the Holy Ghost witnessing to me the truths of the gospel that Jesus Christ is the Savior and that through Joseph Smith the gospel was restored to the earth.”
Reading the scriptures also helps Reuben build his testimony because, Reuben says, he can receive personal revelation from the scriptures and “get something totally different out of the scriptures than what I thought I would going into that reading session.”
Receiving personal revelation is not a new concept to Randy, who says a turning point in his testimony came when he received his patriarchal blessing. “After I got my patriarchal blessing, I read it for the first time. I then realized that Heavenly Father cares about all of us and that the blessing comes from Him. Receiving that blessing just manifested to me that patriarchal blessings are personal scripture for us.”
Ethan has also felt the power of the Holy Ghost, which has strengthened his testimony. Ethan, who is the eldest of four siblings, tells of a time when his youngest sister was baptized. “We were living here in Pennsylvania when she was baptized, and we drove up to the Susquehanna River, where Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery were baptized,” Ethan says. “My sister was baptized in that place. That experience reaffirmed what I knew—that baptism is the only way to return to Heavenly Father. It is the gate to eternal life.”
Priests who are 16 years old can also assist in missionary work, something that Reuben, Randy, and Ethan recently had the opportunity to do.
Ethan says that going out with the missionaries taught him the importance of being a hard worker. “We would be walking down the street, and the missionaries would talk to perfect strangers. They would say, ‘Hello,’ or, ‘Would you like to hear this message we have?’” Ethan says. “A lot of people would ignore the missionaries or say, ‘No, thank you,’ but the missionaries would keep on trying. It was a real lesson to me that I need to be persistent when I serve a mission.”
Helping with missionary work was also an eye-opener after visiting less-active members in the ward. “It’s nice to know that there are people who come to church every week, but there are many people who don’t come. And knowing they’re out there really makes me want to try to help them come back to church. It’s increased my awareness,” Ethan says.
The three young men are anxious for the day when they get to serve in the mission field. But for now, they’re busy doing what they always try to do best—fulfill their priesthood duties.

There were at least two Latter-day Saint connections to the Titanic. Both illustrate our challenge in understanding trials, tribulations, and tragedies and provide insight as to how we might deal with them. The first is an example of being appreciative for the blessings we receive and the challenges we avoid. It involves Alma Sonne, who later served as a General Authority.9 He was my stake president when I was born in Logan, Utah. I had my mission interview with Elder Sonne. In those days all prospective missionaries were interviewed by a General Authority. He was a great influence in my life.
When Alma was a young man, he had a friend named Fred who was less active in the Church. They had numerous discussions about serving a mission, and eventually Alma Sonne convinced Fred to prepare and serve. They were both called to the British Mission. At the conclusion of their missions, Elder Sonne, the mission secretary, made the travel arrangements for their return to the United States. He booked passage on the Titanic for himself, Fred, and four other missionaries who had also completed their missions.10
When it came time to travel, for some reason Fred was delayed. Elder Sonne canceled all six bookings to sail on the new luxury liner on its maiden voyage and booked passage on a ship that sailed the next day.11 The four missionaries, who were excited about traveling on the Titanic, expressed their disappointment. Elder Sonne’s answer paraphrased the account of Joseph and his brothers in Egypt recorded in Genesis: “How can we return to our families and the lad be not with us?”12 He explained to his companions that they all came to England together and they all should return home together. Elder Sonne subsequently learned of the Titanic’s sinking and gratefully said to his friend Fred, “You saved my life.” Fred replied, “No, by getting me on this mission, you saved my life.”13 All of the missionaries thanked the Lord for preserving them.14

Elder Glenn L. Pace of the Seventy told how his youngest daughter helped their family do things the Lord’s way. He said: “She was the one who reminded us to have family prayer. She was the one who tried to get us excited about family home evening. She devised treasure hunts; she fixed treats; she would do anything to try to get the family excited about having family home evening” (“Friend to Friend,” Friend, Feb. l997, 7).

Lucy Mack Smith, the Prophet’s mother, was born in New Hampshire. When Lucy was still in her teens, her sister Lovina died, which caused Lucy great grief. Her brother Stephen came for a visit and asked their father if Lucy could come to the town of Tunbridge, Vermont, and stay with his family for a while. They thought it would help Lucy recover from the grief over her beloved sister.

While visiting in Tunbridge, Lucy met a young man named Joseph Smith and married him. The marriage took place on 24 January 1796. Lucy was 20 years old and Joseph was 24 at the time. Together they would be the parents of Joseph Smith Jr., the man destined to restore the gospel of Jesus Christ, the very truth Lucy had been searching for most of her life.

The young couple, Lucy and Joseph Sr., had a small farm and ran the country store (illustrated above) in Tunbridge, a store that, although repaired and expanded, is still there today. While the Smiths lived in Tunbridge, the oldest children, Alvin and Hyrum, were born. The young family moved to a farm owned by Lucy’s father, outside Sharon, Vermont. The small cabin they built on that property sat on the boundary line between the towns of Sharon and South Royalton. The day after his son Joseph was born on 23 December 1805, Joseph Sr. walked into town and registered his birth in the town of Sharon. (See Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith, ed. Preston Nibley [1958].)

As morning gathers around the city of Kwang Ju, Korea, the small glass-fronted office waits expectantly. It seems to watch as farmers trundle their carts down the narrow road on their way to market. Soon the street is filled with commuters on bicycles dodging scurrying pedestrians to the blaring accompaniment provided by nervous taxi drivers. When the raucous pace slows a bit, two smiling young women take their places outside the building.
Pedestrians walking by the office peer through its windows. The curious stop to examine a painting of a building like no other building they have seen before. Six white spires rise out of a gleaming white structure, and on one of the spires perches an angel with a trumpet to his lips. As they stop to look, one of the young ladies, a sister missionary, steps up to invite them inside the Kwang Ju Visitors Center.
Entering the center from the busy street, visitors are greeted by full-time missionaries. The tour begins with four paintings illustrating the life of the Prophet Joseph Smith.
In fluent Korean the missionaries bear their testimonies before a diorama of Joseph’s first vision. Next, a series of pictures and scriptural quotations explain the necessity of prophets.
The Book of Mormon is introduced by a painting of Moroni delivering the plates to Joseph Smith. In the Book of Mormon room there are eight-foot replicas of the Bible and the Book of Mormon. These open to display maps explaining where they came from and contain information on why the Book of Mormon is necessary. Finally, Christ’s ministry to the Nephites is pictorially presented.
The tour ends before an 8-by-20-foot mural of the heavens. People who just a few minutes earlier were thinking only about getting to work or the market on time are asked the questions, “Where did you come from? Why are you here? Where are you going after this life is over?” Before leaving the center for the street outside, visitors have had a thorough introduction to the Church, and many make appointments with the missionaries.
At the end of the day the street quiets down and the center closes its doors for another day. But the following morning another curious person will stop to puzzle at a picture of a white, spired building, and the visitors center will welcome him in.

A prospective elder in Utah was afraid to go to church because he didn’t want to be called on to pray or answer questions. After two months of being taught the gospel in their home, he and his wife accepted an invitation to attend the temple preparation seminar. Shortly afterward, they made church attendance their goal, despite the man’s fears. It was their decision, arising out of their progress in learning the gospel. He’s now been ordained an elder, and he and his wife have been sealed in the temple.

On the bus to work one morning, I took a window seat. Before long I became aware of a little bee trying to get itself out of a fix. It was trapped between the two glass panels of the window, and no matter how hard it tried, it couldn’t find its way out. Encased in a transparent prison, it could see freedom but couldn’t find an escape route. Perhaps frightened, it beat its wings furiously and desperately threw itself against the glass.
I’ve always been a person who didn’t like to see anyone or anything hurt. So after observing the bee for some time, I began to try to get it out of its difficulty. But lacking trust and understanding of my desire to help, it didn’t take advantage of the assistance I offered. In fact, all it did was continue to throw itself against the window. Finally I began to get a bit irritated.
Before I got to my stop and after the poor little bee had suffered much, it managed to get out of its predicament. From it I learned that we also can overcome trials—suffering less if we turn to and trust in Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, to whom all adversity is transparent.

1. “Watch out! The allosaurus is going to get you!” roared Teddy as he chased Cole’s dinosaur around the couch with his allosaurus.
“No one can stop me. I’m a tyrannosaurus rex,” Cole said, bouncing his dinosaur along the walls.
2. The boys stomped through the house like loud, hungry dinosaurs until Mom brought out a snack.
3. “Who’s that on your wall?” Teddy asked, eating his string cheese.
“Jesus, of course,” Cole said.
“Who is Jesus?” Teddy asked.
Cole didn’t know what to say. He thought everyone knew about Jesus.
“He lives in heaven. And He loves all the people,” was all he could think to answer.
“OK,” Teddy said. “Do you want to go outside?”
4. Cole was kneeling by his bed that night getting ready to say his prayers when Dad came in.
“Did you have a good time with Teddy today?” Dad asked.
“Yes. We played in the sandbox and with dinosaurs. Dad, Teddy asked me who Jesus was, and I didn’t know what to tell him.”
5. Dad pointed to a picture on the wall above Cole’s bed. It was of Jesus surrounded by children. “What do you think about when you look at this painting?” Dad asked.
6. “I think about how I want to live with Jesus and Heavenly Father someday. And how Jesus treated people nicely when He was on the earth,” Cole said.
7. “It sounds like you could tell Teddy both of those things,” Dad said.
“Maybe Teddy would like to come to church with me sometime,” Cole said. “Then he could learn lots of things about Jesus. And it is fun too.”
8. Dad kissed Cole on the top of his head.
“You’re a good boy, Cole. Heavenly Father and Jesus are both proud of you. And Teddy is lucky to have you for a friend.”

I was shopping for school clothes with my nine-year-old son when our conversation turned from lighthearted chitchat to a more serious question. “Mom, why do they have to put that stuff in all the store windows?”
“That stuff” he was referring to was immodest pictures displayed in the windows of just about every shop we passed. Although pictures like these had always been there, I hadn’t paid much attention to them before. But the fact that my oldest son was starting to take notice awakened a new awareness in me. Over the next weeks, I began to see these images everywhere: on television, at the grocery store, at restaurants, in advertisements that came in the mail. I couldn’t get away from them. Some images were so explicit that I began to feel perplexed, and a feeling of alarm began to grow in my heart. How was I supposed to protect my family from the traps of pornography?
Every general conference we hear warnings about its devastating effects, and we have been acquainted with its victims. We had taken all of the precautions at home with our computer and the media we allowed there, but clearly, unless our children were quarantined, there seemed to be no way to completely avoid seeing unwanted images that might lead to further curiosity. Could my son’s innocent gaze at the grocery store turn into a lifetime struggle with pornography? My anxiety over this issue grew, and I began to feel a sense of helplessness and vulnerability in protecting my children.
Detail from Tree of Life, by Kazuto Uota
Then one day while I was reading in the Book of Mormon, I unexpectedly found reassurance in 1 Nephi 15. Nephi is explaining Lehi’s vision of the tree of life to Laman and Lemuel when they ask the meaning of the river of water. Nephi answers in verse 27: “And I said unto them that the water which my father saw was filthiness; and so much was his mind swallowed up in other things that he beheld not the filthiness of the water” (emphasis added). Lehi’s mind was focused on the tree of life and getting his family to it to partake of its fruit! He didn’t even see the filthiness because of this focus.
That was the answer! Keeping inappropriate media out of our home was a start, but a more direct and conscious effort to teach our children the gospel is what would ultimately be their best defense against anything that could lead them away.
Because of this experience with the scriptures, my husband and I decided to redouble our efforts in teaching our children and thus keep our eyes on the love of God instead of the filthiness in the world. We have felt impressed to focus on three different areas*:
1. Increasing our own personal scripture study and decreasing the “noise” around us. Like Lehi, our minds must be filled with positive things in order to hear the promptings of the Spirit and to keep us focused on anchoring our family in the gospel. My husband and I try to regularly spend time talking about the spiritual needs of each individual in the family and how we can meet those needs and create a home where the Spirit can thrive.
2. Making family scripture study more meaningful. Although it takes a lot of effort just to gather the family together daily to read scriptures, we are trying to have more discussion when we read the scriptures. We have a wide range of ages with our children, so we read scriptures with the younger kids later in the day and the oldest kids early in the morning when the little ones are asleep so there is less distraction and more opportunity for discussion. We have found that almost daily there is discussion of current events that relates to the scriptures we are reading.
Most mornings are far from idyllic, but with perseverance we are finding that the kids really are listening and participating, even though sometimes it takes a lot of effort to get everyone together.
3. Doing missionary work. When we bear testimony, the Spirit testifies that what we are saying is true, and our testimonies grow. We are trying to make missionary work a family affair. We talk about sharing the gospel, and we regularly invite friends to our home. We also take every opportunity to have the missionaries and investigators over for gospel discussion. We have had wonderful experiences with new members of the Church and investigators in our home, and it has made an impression on our children as they reflect on their own testimonies and hear those of the missionaries.
I am so grateful for the Book of Mormon and the miraculous way a single verse of scripture has given me reassurance and a clear direction for our family. The scriptures can truly replace fear and helplessness with power and peace.

Anna Lisa sat dejectedly in her Aunt Lois and Uncle Owen’s house and worried about her father. He was in a hospital far away getting a new heart so he could be healthy. Her mother was with him, and her aunt and uncle were taking care of her.

Aunt Lois was sewing, Uncle Owen was watching a football game, and Anna Lisa had nothing to do. It was Sunday, but her aunt and uncle didn’t go to church. No one offered to take Anna Lisa, so she stayed home too. Anna Lisa sighed.

"Why don’t you go downstairs and snoop around? There are some old toys and books down there," Aunt Lois said. She must have read her mind—or heard her sigh.

Anna Lisa made her way down the rickety stairs to the basement, which smelled cool and damp and musty and was full of all kinds of things. There was an old washing machine, several trunks, various pieces of furniture, and lots of boxes. At first she didn’t see the toys or books, but then she noticed a box with BOOKS written on the side. She opened it carefully and found a treasure—dozens of children’s books. Anna Lisa read all afternoon until Aunt Lois called her for supper.

As Anna Lisa put the books back in the box, she saw another book that caught her attention. It read Book of Mormon on the cover, but it didn’t look like the one her mom and dad owned. This one was a gold color with black letters, and its pages were uneven on the sides and crinkly. She decided to take it upstairs.

"You must have found something interesting down there," Aunt Lois said as she dished up a bowl of tomato soup in the kitchen.

"I found a box of books."

"Your mother has told me how much you like to read. I’m glad you found something good."

That night in bed, Anna Lisa looked at the Book of Mormon. There were no chapters or verses—just paragraphs like other books. Anna Lisa tried to read some of it, but it was hard for her, and she finally put it aside.

The next evening, Anna Lisa showed the book to Uncle Owen as he sat reading the newspaper. "Have you read it?" she asked him.

"No, I never did. When your mom and dad joined the Church they gave us a Book of Mormon. But we were busy with our trucking business, and I wasn’t interested. This one must have been in our basement for years. Maybe missionaries brought it to my grandparents."

"It’s hard for me to read," Anna Lisa said. "My dad reads to me sometimes from the Book of Mormon. Could you read some of it to me?"

Uncle Owen looked at his newspaper, and Anna Lisa knew that he’d rather read that, but he looked at her with a kind face as if he knew she was missing her dad. He smiled and opened the book.

"What part should I read?"

Anna Lisa snuggled up next to her uncle. "Well, I’ve heard the first part a lot, about Nephi and his brothers and crossing the sea. Why don’t you just open it up in the middle—it will be a surprise."

Uncle Owen smiled at her and opened to the middle. He began to read.

"‘Behold, he changed their hearts; yea, he awakened them out of a deep sleep, and they awoke unto God. Behold, they were in the midst of darkness; nevertheless, their souls were illuminated by the light of the everlasting word’" (Alma 5:7).

Anna Lisa sat up straight. "That’s what’s happening to my dad—a change of heart. And he said that they will put him in a deep sleep while it happens."

Uncle Owen laughed gently. "I think this is talking about a different kind of change of heart, like deciding to believe in God."

Anna Lisa leaned against Uncle Owen as he read more. She began to feel very sleepy, but as she dozed off a little, she could still hear Uncle Owen reading. Then he was silent, but when she looked up, she saw that he was reading to himself. And when Aunt Lois came and got her and led her up to bed, he was still reading. The next morning, when Anna Lisa went down to breakfast, he was still reading from the book.

"Did you read all night, Uncle Owen?" she asked.

"Well, no," he said, "but I read very late, and when I woke up I started reading again." He laid the book carefully on the table and came to breakfast, but after breakfast, he read some more. Anna Lisa was glad he liked the book so much.

That night her mother called and told her that her father was doing just fine, but he needed to stay in the hospital a little while longer. Anna Lisa sighed one of her big sighs. She wanted very much to see her parents again.

Every night that week, before Anna Lisa went to bed, Uncle Owen read to her from the Book of Mormon, and Aunt Lois sat and listened too. On Saturday night, Anna Lisa said, "Could we go to church tomorrow? I want to be in my Primary class."

"But you won’t know anybody. It won’t be your own class with your friends," Aunt Lois said.

"I know, but it will feel the same; people will be nice."

Uncle Owen and Aunt Lois looked at each other. Then Uncle Owen ruffled Anna Lisa’s hair. "OK. We’ll take you."

As Anna Lisa drifted off to sleep that night, she felt very happy. She knew there was more than one way to have a new heart. Maybe her uncle as well as her dad would receive one.

Illustration by Loni Harris
Sometimes when I’m reading scriptures, my brain likes to skip away to someplace else. It isn’t that I don’t want to read—it’s just that when I try, my mind wants to wander.
For example, when I read in 1 Nephi about Lehi dwelling in a tent, my mind wanders away to Young Women camp. Then that reminds me of when Boy Scout camp was accidentally scheduled at the same place and at the same time, and how they had to load the boys back up and move them. Then that reminds me of when I moved to another town, the car ride there, that hitchhiker we bought food for on the way, and so on and so on.
The next thing I know, I’ve read a full page but don’t remember anything. So I move on to read about Lehi’s dream, and it begins all over again.
I have read the first pages of 1 Nephi, Genesis, Matthew, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price so many times, but I would usually forget what I read and just check it off my to-do list and then distract myself from doing it again for a while. My heart does have good intentions, but it can be hard to jump in and truly feast on the scriptures. I’ve always wondered if I would ever be able to, you know … do it.
But then I found a way.
My way.
A way that actually works—for me.
I am a doodler and have been for a long time. I basically doodle whenever I have a pen and paper in front of me. I’m not a great artist; I just simply like to doodle. Repeated swirls, silly fonts, lines, patterns, zigzags, stick figures, circles—I love to do it, and I do it everywhere. It helps me concentrate and relax.
OK, so what’s this got to do with scripture study?
Here is what I did.
I bought a big black art notebook and a thin black marker, and I found a quiet place where I could spread out my supplies and read out loud.
Once I was all set up, I opened my notebook and created a title page that said, “Doodling through the Scriptures,” which I decorated with different fonts and squiggly lines. After I finished that, I opened the Book of Mormon to the first page of 1 Nephi, with the opening lines that I’ve read dozens of times: “I, Nephi, having been born …” I worked hard to concentrate and keep reading.
As I read, I paid attention to words that would jump out or pictures that were in my head. I took the time to draw what stuck out to me. Sometimes, it was a border around the entire page using Nephi’s name. Or I would put several different pictures and words in circles. Or I would write down one verse I particularly loved or even just one word.
This method allowed me to be free and play with the words. No one was timing me, grading me, or judging my drawings. I just tried to have fun, relax, and concentrate.
But wait, didn’t it take forever to get through the Book of Mormon this way?
Well, yes. Some days, I wouldn’t even get through a page. But it was worth the time.
As I read and doodled, I found things that relate to me personally. For example, why didn’t Laman and Lemuel just turn around and go back to Jerusalem and quit whining? (I doodled this with stick figures looking mad and pointing at Nephi, who looked happy.) While drawing this, I thought about this question. Laman and Lemuel came along but were crabby. I thought about when my parents ask me to do things I don’t want to do. I go along, but I sure make everyone else miserable along the way. I thought, “Do I sometimes act like Laman and Lemuel?” I wrote that question and my answer on the page, along with more doodles.
While I sat and pondered and read, I had feelings of calm, warmth, and safety come over me repeatedly, and I knew the book was inspired and true. And now, I have this art journal that I can use as a reference forever to help me remember that I received this witness that the Book of Mormon is true.
Taking the time to make lines, scrolls, or boxes around words and stick figures while reading would stop me in the moment and allow me to think, ask questions, and feel closer to the people in the scriptures. My mind would still wander, but it usually wandered to think about the messages, the people, or the Spirit that I felt while I quietly doodled.
I discovered how to make my study meaningful, and now I can’t wait for scripture study each day. For the first time in my life, the scriptures feel personal. Who knew that doodling could help me receive a testimony that the scriptures are true!
The author lives in Connecticut, USA.