Gospel Story Finder

These funny boys are serious about choosing the right and serving others. When their grandpa had cancer, they not only prayed for his recovery but also rolled up their sleeves and took care of his garden. They grew corn, cucumbers, broccoli, chili peppers, onions, peas, tomatoes, beets, some odd-looking carrots, and three pumpkins destined to become jack-o’-lanterns. The eggplants died, but nobody minded much, because Grandpa lived.

I met an elderly couple in the mission field not long ago. The man, when they left for the mission field, was blind in one eye. But when he was called on a mission, it was felt all would be well. The couple went to the mission field, and after they’d been out for two or three months, the man lost the sight of his other eye. He was now blind in both eyes. The mission president called him in and said, “I believe we should send you home because you can’t see and do what you’re supposed to do.” But the man, very straightforwardly, said to the president, “President, don’t send me home just because I can’t see. I was called by the Lord to fulfill an eighteen-month mission. When I was called, he knew that I would be blind even if I didn’t, yet he still called me. Now, please let me stay and finish my mission. My wife is my companion, and she’ll help me see what I need to see, through her eyes. Don’t send me home. Let me finish what I’m here to do.” And he did. He stayed. His faith was developed in the very simple way we’re talking about.

One day when I was young, my father happened upon a little lost lamb in the desert. The lamb’s flock had moved on, and if we had left him, the coyotes might have found him. If he didn’t die because of the coyotes, he would have starved. So my father brought him home and gave him to me to care for.
I named the little lamb Nigh; I’m not sure why. I fed him with a bottle, and soon he grew strong and healthy. He and I became great friends, and I could just call him and he would come running. We liked to play on the grass together. Sometimes I would lie down with my head on his fleece and gaze up at the clouds floating by in the blue sky overhead.
One night there came a terrible storm. I usually locked up Nigh in the barn each night, but that night I forgot to do it until after I had gone to bed. As I lay there, I could hear the fierce wind howling and I could hear my little lamb bleating, frightened and fearful. But I just didn’t want to leave that warm, comfortable bed to take care of him.
The next morning I awoke to find that I was not the only one who had heard my lamb bleating. Some dogs had heard him and had killed him. My heart was broken. My father looked at me with disappointment written on his face. “Son,” he said, “couldn’t I trust you to take care of just one lamb?”
The lesson I learned that day was one I will never forget. I resolved that when a lamb needed to be cared for or when anyone needed my help, I would respond right away rather than wait for a more “convenient” time.

Bear and Chipmunk were sitting at their kitchen table. “Do you remember what day today is, Chipmunk?” Bear asked his friend.
“Tuesday?” said Chipmunk.
“Yes, it’s Tuesday,” said Bear, “but do you remember what else today is?”
Chipmunk looked at the calendar on the wall. “Why, it’s your birthday, Bear! Happy Birthday!”
“You remembered!” said Bear smiling. “Wouldn’t it be nice if someone baked me a birthday cake and gave me a birthday present?”
“That would be nice,” said Chipmunk. “Maybe someone will.”
“Maybe I’d better leave so that someone can get busy,” said Bear.
“Maybe you’d better,” said Chipmunk, trying hard not to smile until Bear was safely gone.
“I love birthdays, especially Bear’s,” Chipmunk said, opening the kitchen cupboard and taking out a cake. “I’m glad I baked this yesterday.” He mixed up a batch of honey frosting and spread it over and around the cake. “I hope Bear likes it.”
Bear was peeking through the kitchen window. “I will,” he said quietly. “I will!”
Chipmunk carried the birthday cake into the dining room and put it on the table, then went to the bedroom and took a big box out of the closet. Taking some wrapping paper out of the desk drawer, he wrapped the big box. “I hope Bear likes it,” he said.
Bear was peeking through the bedroom window. “Oh, I will,” he said quietly. “I know I will.”
Chipmunk carried the big box into the dining room and put it on the table next to the birthday cake. “There now,” he said. “Everything’s ready. I’ll call Bear.”
But Chipmunk didn’t have to call Bear. Bear was standing right there next to him! Chipmunk laughed. “Happy birthday, Bear!” he said.
“You really did remember, Chipmunk!” Bear said happily.
Bear opened the big box. His eyes shone with pleasure. “Oh, Chipmunk,” he said, “I’ve always wanted a pair of roller skates just like these!”
“Do you like them?” asked Chipmunk.
“I love them!” Bear said, putting them on and lacing them up.
“I’m glad.”
Bear stood up. “Let’s go roller-skating together right now, Chipmunk.”
“I’m sorry, Bear,” said Chipmunk, “but I can’t.”
Bear looked surprised. “Why not?”
“I don’t have any roller skates.”
“Well then,” said Bear, “why don’t you take the money Grandma Chipmunk sent you for your birthday last week and buy some.”
“I already spent it.”
“On what?”
“On something special.”
Bear looked down at the new white roller skates he was wearing. Suddenly he knew what that something special was. Bear didn’t know what else to say, so he just said, “Thank you, Chipmunk.”
“You’re welcome,” said Chipmunk, smiling again.
Just then the doorbell rang. Bear skated over and answered it. A delivery person handed Bear a big package. It was from Uncle Bear. Bear unwrapped it, and his eyes opened wide. “Look at these, Chipmunk!” he said, taking a pair of glowing purple roller blades out of the box. Bear had never seen such fabulous skates before!
Chipmunk hadn’t either. He didn’t say anything, but the pair of white roller skates he had given Bear for his birthday seemed quite plain and ordinary now.
There was a card in the big box. It said:
Dear Nephew,
I Hope you enjoy these.
Happy birthday!
Uncle Bear
P.S. If there is something else you’d rather have, please exchange these for it.
Bear looked at the glowing purple roller blades he was holding. He looked down at the white roller skates he was wearing. He looked at Chipmunk. Then Bear put the glowing purple roller blades back into the big box and skated out the front door with them. “I’ll be back soon, Chipmunk,” he called over his shoulder.
Chipmunk watched Bear disappear down the road. “He didn’t even take time to have a piece of his birthday cake before he left!” Chipmunk said sadly.
He was sitting in his favorite chair when Bear came back. Bear was still wearing the white roller skates Chipmunk had given him, but he was not carrying the big box from Uncle Bear. Instead, he had a little box. Bear skated over to Chipmunk and handed him the little box. “Open it, Chipmunk,” he said.
Chipmunk’s eyes shone with pleasure. “Oh, Bear!” he cried, taking a pair of little white roller skates out of the little box. “I’ve always wanted a pair of roller skates just like these!”
“Do you like them?” asked Bear.
“I love them!” Chipmunk said, putting them on and lacing them up.
“I’m glad.”
Chipmunk stopped lacing up the little white roller skates. “Bear,” he said, “where are the purple roller blades Uncle Bear sent you?”
“I exchanged them for those,” said Bear, pointing to the little white roller skates Chipmunk was wearing.
Chipmunk didn’t know what else to say, so he just said, “Thank you, Bear.”
“You’re welcome,” said Bear, smiling again.
Chipmunk finished lacing up his little white roller skates. He stood up. “Let’s go roller-skating together right now, Bear!”
“I’m sorry, Chipmunk,” said Bear, “but I can’t.”
Chipmunk looked surprised. “Why not?”
“I haven’t had a piece of my birthday cake yet! And honey frosting is my very favorite.”
Bear ate three big bear-size pieces of birthday cake. Chipmunk ate two big chipmunk-size pieces. Then Bear wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “I’m ready, Chipmunk. Let’s go roller-skating together right now!”
Chipmunk wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “Let’s!”
And the two friends did.

The first part of August 2002 I reached a major milestone in my life. I was passing from middle age to old age with my 80th birthday. To celebrate it I decided to take my children and grandchildren on a tour of Logan, Utah, my hometown, to share with them the impact this city has had on my life.
I designated nine stops in Logan that I wanted my family to see. With each stop I selected a scripture to teach a lesson on the importance that particular location had in my life.
We ended the tour later in the evening at the old Logan Ninth Ward building. We had arranged for a room there in which the family could gather. There was a presentation on my life, including pictures starting with my grandparents, parents, and on through my early life. Then there were pictures of my marriage and of the blessings of children, followed by a collage of pictures of the events we have enjoyed together as a family.
On Sunday morning we attended church in the Ninth Ward chapel. This building was constructed under the supervision of my father while he served as bishop. He was the bishop for 18 years. I had the opportunity that morning to bear my testimony of the blessings of the gospel in my life.
We then drove to our home in Salt Lake City. However, before letting the family enjoy a delicious birthday dinner prepared by my wife, I quizzed them on what they had learned. I again bore witness to the divinity of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Last month I had the opportunity to attend the temple wedding of a young woman I have known since she was born. As I sat in the sealing room, looking at the beautiful chandelier sparkling in the light of the temple, I remembered that day when I first held her. Her mother had her dressed in a little white dress, and I thought she was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen. Then this young woman walked through the door, once again dressed in white. She was radiant and happy. As she entered the room, I wished with all my heart that every young woman could envision that moment and strive to always be worthy to make and keep sacred covenants and receive the ordinances of the temple in preparation to enjoy the blessings of exaltation.
As this couple knelt at the sacred altar, they received promises beyond mortal comprehension that will bless, strengthen, and assist them on their mortal journey. It was one of those moments when the world stood still and all of heaven rejoiced. As the newly married couple looked into the large mirrors in the room, the groom was asked what he saw. He said, “All those who have gone before me.” Then the couple looked into the large mirror on the opposite wall, and the bride said with tears in her eyes, “I see all those who will follow after us.” She saw her future family—her posterity. I know that she understood again in that moment how important it is to believe in being chaste and virtuous. There is no more beautiful sight than a couple, properly prepared, kneeling together at the altar of the temple.

When my daughter ‘Ofa, graduated from BYU–Hawaii few years ago, I asked her the question most parents ask their children when they graduate from college: “Now that you’re graduated, what are you going to do with your life?” She smiled with confidence and said, “What else do you expect? I came here to learn. Now I’m ready to serve. I’m going to serve a mission.” She served an honorable mission in the Auckland New Zealand Mission, and she is now attending BYU–Provo and serving faithfully in her YSA ward.

Soon I made friends at school and looked forward to seeing them each day. One friend, Larry Dawson, lived about a mile from my home. Larry invited me to his house for a birthday party. I had never been to a birthday party before. It was so much fun! I still remember some of the special toys Larry received—especially his new toy fire engine.
Larry and I rode the bus to school because we lived too far from school to walk. Larry got off the bus at the bus stop on the main highway just before I got off. He then had to cross the highway and walk half a mile (about 1 km) to his home. At that time cars did not stop when a school bus was loading or unloading students.
One day as we were returning home from school, a car speeding by the bus hit and killed my friend. I felt very sad. I missed being with Larry at school and on the bus. My mother and father comforted me by explaining that even though I wouldn’t see Larry anymore in this life, his spirit continued to live in the spirit world. Larry was so kind and good that I knew he would be worthy to live with our Heavenly Father. As I grew, I learned more about our Father’s plan for His children.

Jeffrey opened one eye first, then the other. He looked at his new clock and pushed off the bedcovers. He sat on the edge of his bed, squinting at the clock’s two hands. One pointed up. One pointed down. He didn’t know what they said.
Jeffrey let his head hang upside down over the side of the bed. He made his fingers into tubes like binoculars. The clock hands still looked the same. One up. One down. He pulled the pillow over his eyes and sighed. He thought about his grandmother.
“Here’s a new clock for your birthday,” Grandmother had said. “You’ll be going to school soon, and you’ll need to know how to tell time.”
Jeffrey sighed again. The clock was a problem. He went into the kitchen to find his mother.
“I’ll fix you a nice breakfast,” his mother said. “Are you excited about tomorrow?”
“I’m not going to school tomorrow,” said Jeffrey. “I can’t read clocks, and I won’t know when to come home!”
“The teacher and I will help you at first,” said Mother. “And you’ll soon be able to tell the time by yourself.”
After breakfast Jeffrey went back to his room and made his bed. He smoothed the plaid bedspread carefully and tucked in the corners. He combed his hair, put on his shoes, and tied the laces. He stared at the clock. The hands were different now, but he still didn’t know what they said.
Then Jeffrey had an idea. “I know! Maybe Timothy can read a clock. I’ll ask him!”
Just then Timothy knocked at the back door. Jeffrey ran to open it. Timothy had a paper bag in his arms. “Hi, Jeffrey!” said his friend. “Dad took me shopping last night!”
“Oh!” said Jeffrey. “What’s in the paper bag?”
“New tennis shoes,” said Timothy, “for school tomorrow.”
“Could I see them?” asked Jeffrey.
“Sure,” said Timothy. “But I’m not going to school tomorrow.”
“You aren’t?” said Jeffrey.
“No,” said Timothy. “I can’t tie my shoes. The other children will laugh at me because I don’t know how the laces go!”
“I’m not going to school tomorrow either.”
“You aren’t?” replied Timothy, surprised.
“No,” said Jeffrey. “My grandmother gave me a clock for my birthday, but I can’t read the hands. The other children will laugh at me because I can’t tell time.”
“I have an idea!” Timothy exclaimed. “I can read clocks but I can’t tie shoes. I’ll show you how to read the hands on your new clock—”
“And I’ll teach you how to tie the laces on your new shoes! Let’s go to my room right now,” said Jeffrey. “We’ll teach each other.”
At noon Mother knocked on Jeffrey’s door. “It’s lunchtime, boys,” she said, “and I have a sandwich and some juice for each of you.”
“Thank you,” said Jeffrey. “I know it’s lunchtime. I can read my clock’s hands! They say it’s twelve o’clock!”
“Thanks. I’m real hungry,” said Timothy. “I’ve been practicing hard tying my shoelaces. And now I can do it!”
“It sounds as though you two are ready for the first day of school,” Mother said with a big smile.
“Yeah. I’ll meet Tim out in front of his house at eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” said Jeffrey.
“And I’ll be wearing my new shoes!” said Timothy.

On a Sunday in July last year, the Hmong ward in Sacramento, California, gathered for a special celebration. Five boys from the Nong Shala Ward (Hmong), Troop 338, and one from Oroville met with friends and family to celebrate their new wings. All six earned their Eagle awards over the summer.
These Scouts’ Eagle projects were varied and reached into their community. At a local school, volunteers painted volleyball courts, basketball courts, and murals; others cleaned and refurbished the school’s garden areas. At another school, they painted bathrooms and offices. Several of the boys had projects that took on tasks suggested by the city to build benches for the old cemetery. Another project included installing directional signs, clearing trails, and general clean up for the Church’s girls’ camp facility.
These 6 young men are the latest in a series of 21 to receive the award since Troop 338 was chartered in 1993. Since then, 11 of the Eagle Scouts have gone on to serve full-time missions.

Youth in the Danville California Stake spent an entire summer getting to know more about the Restoration of the gospel when they performed Brother Joseph, a play about the life of Joseph Smith.
A few weeks prior to the performance, the youth took a three-part challenge to only say kind and positive things to others, to pray at least morning and night, and to keep the commandments and read their scriptures. This extra effort, in addition to their hours of rehearsals, made this a play to remember for both the audience and the cast.

I received a similar letter from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, from a woman who said: “At the age of 19, I sat next to a sweet grandmother in Relief Society and learned to knit. She also was learning to knit. Over the years, I learned of bread making, of strength and perseverance. I learned that my toddler was just being a normal two-year-old, and I learned of a Heavenly Father who loves me. I learned to teach, to hug, to lead, and to follow.”

Last semester in my University 101 class, on day three or four we had a student who didn’t show up for class. I got the attention of our peer mentor and mentioned that we were missing a student. I learned that six students had already reached out to text this student to simply say, “Hey, we miss you.” When we build a community in which we love God and we love all those around us, we are becoming a truly Christ-centered campus where belonging naturally follows.

I will never forget the family home evening lesson we had during a power outage. Without power we could not read anything, and I thought that family home evening was going to be a disaster.
“How will we have family home evening without being able to read a message from the Church magazines, or how will we be able to sing from the hymnbooks without light?” I thought to myself.
Fortunately my sister came to the rescue. She had the great idea for us to sing the hymns we knew by heart and then share what we had learned the Sunday before. We all shared a principle and learned from one another. In my opinion, learning together is the purpose of family home evening. I am certain that the Lord was very pleased that we kept the commandment to have family home evening, even without lights.

When the Manti Utah Temple was under construction some 120 years ago, George Paxman worked as a finish carpenter. He and his young wife, Martha, had one child and were expecting another.
While hanging one of the heavy east doors of the temple, George suffered a strangulated hernia. He was in terrible pain. Martha laid him in a wagon and took him to the town of Nephi, where she put him on the train and took him to Provo. There he died. Spurning marriage, she remained a widow for 62 years, supporting herself with needlework.
Now permit me to diverge from this narrative to say that when I was engaged to marry my wife, I gave her a ring. When we were married, I gave her a wedding band. She wore them for years. Then one day I noticed that she had taken them off and was wearing this little gold wedding band. It had belonged to her grandmother. The ring had been given her by her husband, George. The ring was the only thing he left in this life. One day in the spring, Martha was housecleaning. She brought all of the furnishings out to give the house a thorough cleaning. Upon shaking the straw from the mattress, she looked down, and the ring was gone. She looked everywhere most carefully. It was the only physical remembrance of her beloved husband. She raked through the straw with her fingers but could not find the ring. Tears fell from her eyes. She went to her knees and prayed that the Lord would help her to find the ring. When she opened her eyes, she looked down and there it was.
Now I hold it in my hand. It is too small for all of you to see. It is 18-karat gold, old and scarred and bent. But it represents faith, the faith of a widow who pleaded with the Lord in her extremity. Such faith is the wellspring of activity. It is the root of hope and trust. It is this simple faith that all of us so much need.

“I hated this challenge and didn’t want to do it. I thought of several people, but I got so nervous that I talked myself out of each one. Yesterday morning I knew I’d better get moving. Then something funny happened.
“I go to ballet on Saturday. As we trudged into the dressing room after class, sweaty and tired, I mustered all my courage, took a deep breath, and said to no one in particular, ‘What do you know about Mormons?’
“Tanya, who’s never serious about anything, replied, ‘Are Mormons those guys who ride bikes wearing white shirts and name tags?’ She smacked her forehead, giggling. ‘The guys wear the shirts, of course, not the bikes!’
“‘Some Mormons do that,’ I eagerly explained, ignoring her joke. ‘The ones who are full-time missionaries.’
“‘I see them every so often.’ Tanya giggled again and rolled her eyes. ‘So you’re one of them. Weird.’
“I flopped down on the nearest bench, my face beet red, and pulled off my slippers. I wished I’d never said a word! Then someone tapped me on the shoulder. ‘Virginia?’
“I jerked about in surprise. It was Eva, the best student in the class. I didn’t think she knew I existed.
“‘Are you a Mormon?’
“‘Y—Yes,’ I stammered, not sure what to expect.
“‘Good! I’ve seen those missionaries, too, but they never stop at our house. I’ve always wanted to talk to them.’
“My heart thumped wildly. ‘I can arrange it for you,’ I said enthusiastically. ‘Wednesday evening, say, at my house?’
“Eva smiled. ‘Sounds good. I’ll bring my mother, too, if that’s all right.’
“So they’re coming to our house this Wednesday for dinner and the first discussion!”
“Sometimes people we’d never think of as potential investigators turn out to be interested,” Sister Searle said.
“As a continuing class challenge,” Virginia proposed, “can everyone help friendship Eva and her mother?”
“That’s a great idea!” Sister Searle exclaimed, and the other girls nodded enthusiastically.

I know of young people today who demonstrate a similar commitment. Tara had recently moved from the United States to a foreign land. She was petitioned by the local high school coach to come out for the basketball team. It was not likely she would get much playing time as the team was already formed, but it would give her experience for next season. Then one of the regular players was injured, and Tara was thrust into a more prominent role. The schedule of games was presented to the team. To Tara’s dismay one of the most important games was scheduled on Sunday. Tara discussed the problem with her parents. They assured her of their trust and told her this was her decision.
The next day she approached the coach and explained that as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints she was counseled not to participate in school activities on Sunday. The Sabbath was a sacred day for worshiping God. Could she be excused from playing that one game? The coach was sympathetic but wondered why an exception could not be made for the good of the team.
It was an agonizing time. As the new girl, it was important to be accepted. The team knew she could make a difference. What could she do?
All night long Tara wrestled with the decision. She knew who she was and how much she loved the Savior. There was really only one decision. She would not play on the Sabbath. In the morning she told her parents. They assured her all would work out for the best—and it did. The coach accepted her decision. He understood how important her convictions were to her. Tara would be excused from playing on that Sunday, but they needed her for all the rest of the games. She was an important part of the team.
Tara had proven to herself what it means to be “true at all times.”

“Part of the spirit of the Word of Wisdom is moderation in all things, except those things specifically forbidden by the Lord. …
“When I was a young man, my friends and I went to an amusement park, where we rode the flying saucer. It was shaped something like an upside-down plate that went round and round. Most of us tried to get to the middle so we wouldn’t be thrown off by the centrifugal force as the saucer picked up speed. Sometimes those on the edge would grab a friend who was closer to the middle, but that would pull them both completely off the saucer. I soon recognized that the centrifugal force was far less powerful in the middle. I was quite safe in the center even though the saucer was still spinning. But it was risky when someone on the fringe latched on to me. I learned that safety comes from staying close to the center.”—President James E. Faust, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, “The Virtues of Righteous Daughters of God,” Ensign, May 2003, 109–10.

The Primary children of the Ardmore Ward in the Norman Oklahoma Stake love to serve others. Their leaders challenged them to find ways to serve in secret. When they read about the invitation to help someone in need for President Thomas S. Monson’s birthday, they were excited to have a service activity. They decided to make hygiene kits and children’s kits. But no one knew how much the kits would soon be needed.
For a few weeks, ward members donated soap, shampoo, toothpaste, crayons, soft toys, and other items for the kits. At their activity, the children packaged 15 hygiene kits and 15 children’s kits. In each kit, they included a big paper heart with the scripture, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
Then a terrible tornado swept through their community. Many people lost their homes and belongings. The Primary gave the hygiene kits and children’s kits to people in their community who needed them right away. Giving service helped the children feel thankful and peaceful during a hard time. They learned that serving is a blessing to both the receiver and the giver.

Clearly, serving a mission for the Church puts us in a concentrated learning mode for persistent daily selfless service, where your own ministry becomes the Lord’s ministry, a ministry that carries you to many of the "least of these, my brethren." Our daughter, Emily, when serving in Austria, wrote home the following:

Sister Hopkins and I were asked to go sit with our non-member friend, a manic-depressive lady who gets so stricken with depression and anguish over her immoral behavior, when in her panic spells . . . she wants to commit suicide. We sat with her for eight hours. Part of the time she was thrashing, weeping and wailing in her bed, in the gall of bitterness. She felt that she had ruined her life and that of her family and that everyone would be better off if she were dead. I could feel my heart bleeding real blood for her and I was filled with the desire to do anything to help her.
We reviewed all of the usual wonderful doctrines about the atonement, forgiveness, her [own] worth, etc., but none of that seemed to help. Then we asked if we could sing for her. As we sang the beautiful German hymns, one after the other, in two-part harmony, the sweetest, most comforting spirit filled the room. She closed her eyes, and peace shown in her face. We felt, for that last hour we were with her, that this little room that we were in together was lifted up to heaven. This beautiful woman—even with puffy eyes and sweaty hair—who [had] been so scared by the cruelties of this earth, was picked up and cradled in the arms of the Lord (emphasis added).