Gospel Story Finder

We are also blessed by temple covenants and ordinances, where “the power of godliness is manifest.” I visited a woman who had lost a teenage daughter in a terrible accident, then later her husband to cancer. I asked how she could endure such loss and suffering. She replied that strength came from spiritual reassurances of an eternal family, received during regular temple worship. As promised, the ordinances of the Lord’s house had armed her with God’s power.

Patience is an important part of missionary work. Both Cindy, 15, and her sister Tina Doxstater, 14, were involved in Church activities for two years before they were baptized. Cindy explained that she was impressed by the closeness of Mormon families and by the Church activities that her friends took her to. But she wasn’t ready or sure about making a commitment.

“The members of the Church accepted us for what we were,” she said. “They didn’t push, and that helped.” Cindy’s friends didn’t give up on her. When one of them said, “Why don’t you take the missionary discussion?” She said, “Yes.” With the encouragement of their friends and a science teacher at school, Cindy and Tina were baptized this year. The science teacher, Larry Anderson, baptized them.

Stewart woke up with an intense feeling of dread. It was Friday—dodgeball day in gym class. His stomach was already tying itself in knots.
He ate no breakfast, and he was mostly silent while his mom drove him to school.
First period was art class, his favorite. He liked it because it was something he could do well. He also liked it because he didn’t have to compete with anyone. There was no winner, no loser, just everyone doing his very best. That’s fair, he thought.
Second period was English, a class that Stewart would have really enjoyed if it were not right before gym. He loved to read. It was a grand adventure to let his imagination whisk him off to faraway places. But today, just as he got into a story and started enjoying it, he remembered that in less than an hour he would be in his gym shorts and sneakers, waiting for all the other boys to be chosen for teams. Then someone would finally say, “Oh great—I guess we’re stuck with Stewart!” He hated that part even worse than the actual playing of the game. Naturally, the biggest, most athletic boys were chosen first; Stewart understood that, but he didn’t understand why they had to make fun of him just because he didn’t play as well.
Third period came. Stewart walked across the football field to the gymnasium, dreading even the musky smell of the locker room. He and the other boys dressed quickly and took their places on the gym floor; the coaches didn’t like to be kept waiting.
“Line up; it’s dodgeball day,” Coach Warden shouted. “We need some team leaders!”
Stewart kicked at the chipped lines painted on the old gymnasium floor, wishing that the period was over and that he was eating lunch. He was startled when Coach Warden called his name—he had never been called on to choose a team before!
Soon he and three other boys were standing in a line facing the group. Then Coach Warden walked over, “Stewart, you go first.”
Immediately most of the boys began the usual ritual of jumping up and down, waving their hands, and yelling, “Me! Me! Me!” Joe Dan just stood there with his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t have to jump up and down; he was the best athlete in the whole school and was always chosen first. He told Stewart, “Go ahead—pick me and I’ll pick the rest of the team for you.” When Stewart hesitated, Joe Dan looked puzzled. “Pick me—you know I’m the best.”
The entire gymnasium became silent in disbelief when Stewart said, “I choose Craig.”
Craig stepped forward with a look of amazement that turned into a big grin. “I’ve never been first pick before.” He had always been chosen just before Stewart—next to last.
The other team leaders made their first choices. When it was Stewart’s turn again, a pin could have been heard dropping as he called out, “Andy.” Andy had usually been chosen just before Craig.
At each subsequent turn, Stewart went on going up the ladder instead of down, choosing boys who were usually “assigned,” rather than chosen. The other team leaders chose the best athletes, as usual.
For the first time, Stewart enjoyed the game. His team came in last, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that every boy on it felt wanted.
After the game, the boys went to change clothes. Stewart was tying his shoelaces when Joe Dan towered over him and taunted him, “I told you to pick me. But you wouldn’t do it. You’re nothing but a loser.”
“Joe Dan!” It was the authoritative voice of the coach. “Stewart is many things, but a loser certainly isn’t one of them.” Coach Warden made Joe Dan apologize, sent him and the other boys on to class, then turned to Stewart. “I want to thank you.”
“Huh? What for?”
Coach Warden sat down on the bench, motioning Stewart to sit beside him. “For reteaching me a very important lesson. You see, whenever there’s competition, there has to be a winner and a loser. Everyone wants to be a winner, and nobody wants to be a loser. Today the other team leaders were thinking only about winning, so they chose the best athletes. You were more concerned with the boys themselves, with their feelings. It would’ve been very easy for you to have picked Joe Dan and let him put together the winning team for you. But you didn’t. You were brave enough to choose those whom the others considered losers. But you were the real winner today, Stewart, and so were your teammates. I’m very proud of you.”
The coach walked with Stewart to the door, then went into his office and made a list of all of the boys. He cut the names out on individual strips of paper and threw them into a baseball cap, ready for picking the next day’s teams.

Tetsuko lived by a high mountain in Japan. She was going to school for the first time. Excited, she dressed quickly in her new school uniform. Then she began to feel sick, and she didn’t feel like eating breakfast.
Okasan (Mother) asked, “Do you feel sick, Tetsuko?”
“Yes. My stomach hurts, and I don’t think I will be able to go to school today.” She started to cry.
Otosan (Father) took her hand in his and said, “I think I know what might be wrong with you. This is your first day of school. You will be away from home all day, and you don’t know what to expect. I had the same feeling when I started my job. Would you like me to give you a special father’s blessing?”
Tetsuko nodded.
Otosan placed his hands upon her head and gave her a blessing. He thanked Heavenly Father for her and for the happiness she brought them. He blessed her to feel better, to not be afraid, and to feel peace in her heart.
Tetsuko left for school. That afternoon she ran into the house, calling “Okasan! Okasan! I’m home. It was fun at school. My teacher is nice, and I met some new friends.”
Her mother pulled her close and said, “I’m happy you had such a good day and that Otosan was able to give you a special blessing.”

Following is a true account of a middle-aged businessman who very keenly felt the Comforter enticing him to do good.

Brother Johnson (the name is fictitious) had been plagued with an enslaving smoking habit for two decades. He very much wanted to be active in the Church, but somehow this habit was a seemingly insurmountable barrier between him, the Lord, and Church activity.

One windy, wintry day at work, disgusted with his inability to refrain from smoking one cigarette after another, he felt a subtle spiritual prompting which made him leave his work and tell his employees he’d be gone for the rest of the day. Despite the chilling weather and the deep, new-fallen snow, he hiked into a secluded mountain canyon. Intent on seeking the Lord in private circumstances so he might pray fervently aloud, he hiked until the snow was hip-deep and he could walk no farther.

Then and there he approached the Lord with great humility. He pleaded with the Lord to strengthen him so that he might be free from the insidious power that nicotine held over him. After mighty prayer, he arose a new man.

The chains were broken. And as he followed the Lord’s admonition in John 8:32, six months later he was called to be the bishop of his ward. He served faithfully and well.

Susan Kelley of the Eighth Ward, Boise West Stake, Idaho, will appear in the 1973 edition of Who’s Who in American High Schools as a result of the many honors she has earned during her high school years. Susan, a former student at Borah High School, Idaho’s largest, was named a finalist in the 1973 National Merit scholarship program. Less than one-half of one percent of the nation’s graduating seniors are thus honored. In addition she was inducted into the Borah chapter of the National Honor Society and scored highest in the state for the third straight year in the National French Contest.
Susan is a former junior Sunday School teacher and has earned a three-year certificate for attendance at seminary. Currently she is attending Ricks College on a scholarship.

Of the Kenya experience, senior missionaries, Elder and Sister Moyers said, “We experienced that unexpected and drastic change presses on our emotions, intellect, and especially our faith in our purpose . . . Being relocated is either a blessing or a challenge, and each missionary has the agency to choose which it will be for him or her.”
The Moyers served as member-leader support missionaries and helped to build the Church from within. President Dudfield said, “We learned the significant value of missionary service and the great value of senior couples. This is a call for those willing and able to serve. It changes your life.”

One girl is proud of the fact that she helped build a fence in one day. She is thrilled by the fact that she was part of an almost all-girl work crew that built the fence. One of the boys overheard her comments, then said with curiosity, “What I don’t understand is why girls get so excited about hammering nails into wood.” His statement was quickly answered, “Because this is a time when girls get to do many things they normally don’t get to do. The leaders are really understanding and they let us try new things.”

Girls hammering nails to help build a fence isn’t the only unusual activity going on at The Ranch. Boys are also participating in tasks they normally don’t do at home. Says Sister Cheryl Edmund, one of the ward’s youth conference specialists: “Where else can you see boys sweeping the kitchen (the Chuckwagon) and doing dishes?” And she adds with a laugh, “In broad daylight!”

On one particular day at The Ranch a visitor might see girls gathering up scraps of discarded wood from the barn project and piling it in wheelbarrows. As they push them along to be dumped into a hole in the ground for the night’s anticipated dutch oven feast, they laugh, talk about the upcoming play in the recently completed barn, and generally just seem to enjoy the natural beauty of their surroundings and the work they are doing. Having dumped the wood, some of them jump into the wheelbarrows for unorganized races back to the scrap pile.

Rainbow stepped from the shelter of the wigwam just as the soft summer rain stopped. Turning her face to the sun and closing her dark eyes, she took a deep breath. Everything smelled fresh and new after a rain.
“I see Rainbow enjoys the scent of the earth after its bath too.” Rainbow didn’t have to look to see who had spoken to her, for she knew well the voice of her great-grandfather.
“Oh, Great-Grandfather, isn’t it lovely!” she exulted. Her delight in it was even greater now that she was sharing it with the person she loved most.
Great-Grandfather nodded. He patted the ground, inviting Rainbow to sit with him. “That which you are named after is especially beautiful this day,” he said, looking above the tall trees to the colored arch stretching across the sky.
Rainbow loved the many colors of the rainbow, but every time she saw one, she was reminded of her own plainness. She felt her spirits sinking, and the world no longer seemed as lovely as it had a short time ago.
Sensing Rainbow’s mood changing, Great-Grandfather asked, “Why do you grow sad?” When she didn’t answer, they both sat in silence. He would let her decide when the time was right for talking.
This was Rainbow’s thirteenth summer, and her sorrow grew deeper with each one. The daughter of a Sioux chief, she was proud of her heritage, yet …
“Great-Grandfather, Running Antelope is able to run with the swiftness of an antelope, isn’t he?”
Great-Grandfather gave Rainbow his complete attention, “Yes, he is as quick and surefooted as an antelope.”
“My other brother, Red Fox, is skillful and cunning.”
“As the red fox is, so is he.”
While they talked, Rainbow had been watching the multicolored rainbow grow pale and fade away. I wish that I, too, could fade away, she thought. “Great-Grandfather, on the day of my birth, you chose my name. Is that not true?”
“That is true.”
Picking at the fringe on her dress, Rainbow whispered sadly, “But the rainbow is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is beautiful—as are you.”
She was surprised at his answer. No one had ever told her that she was beautiful, and she knew why. She was not beautiful; not even pretty.
“Great-Grandfather, I love you for saying so, but I am plain, and I know it.”
The old man rose on wavering legs. He paused, letting his limbs gain strength. “Stay here; I will return.”
Lost in her misery, Rainbow hardly noticed his absence. It haunted her that she couldn’t live up to her name as her brothers lived up to theirs.
She was shaken out of her thoughts when something was pressed into her hand. Looking up, she found Great-Grandfather had returned. He squatted beside her and said, “As a child, you received joy from this. Do you remember?”
She nodded, gazing at the smooth object she held. The solid glass bar had three sides, each end exactly like the other. It was transparent, but by holding it just right, she could see the seven colors of the rainbow reflected on a boulder or on the side of the wigwam.
“I have had this many years,” Great-Grandfather told her. “When you were a baby and I first held you, I knew you to be as this glass.”
Rainbow looked at him in wonder. “How can that be?”
“The glass, though attractive, is plain. Its beauty is hidden, yet is always there. To me, you are beautiful. I see the colors of the rainbow within you. They radiate your inner beauty with every smile and every tear for others.”
Rainbow threw her arms around him. “I love you, Great-Grandfather!”
“And I love you, beautiful Rainbow.”

Find a plastic comb, a faucet, and a dry-haired volunteer—it’s object lesson time!
Supplies:
Illustrations by David Habben
A dry plastic comb
An indoor faucet
A head full of clean, dry hair (It doesn’t have to be your own—see if someone else will let you “static” up their hair!)
Turn on the faucet to a very thin stream of water. At this point, gravity is the only thing influencing the direction of the water. Explain to your family that gravity is like our everyday routine. But a daily spiritual recharge can have an awesome effect on the direction of our lives, just like the charged-up comb will affect the little stream.
Brush the plastic comb through your hair (or your family member’s hair) 10 times. Now bring the comb close to the thin stream of water (without actually touching it). Watch as the magic happens. If all goes well, the stream of water should bend toward the comb!
OK, so it’s actually science, not magic. When you comb your hair over and over, static electricity gathers on the comb in the form of tiny, microscopic electrons. When you bring the comb near the water, the accumulation of those small electrons attracts the water, literally bending it!
Try the experiment again, this time combing your hair only once or twice. This doesn’t gather enough electrons to move the water. But doing it 10 times, or 20 or 30, can gather up a shocking amount of static!
Ask your family what the difference was between the two experiments, and how that can relate to our own spiritual habits throughout the day (or the week, or an entire lifetime). Then do the experiment the right way one more time because, well, it’s fun!

“Looking back, I can see the hand of the Lord in my life, moving me from one place to the next and from one calling to the other in order to serve Him better,” says Elder Gavarret.
While serving as a bishop in Paraguay, he joined a pharmaceutical company that moved him to Bolivia to start a new branch. There he was called as president of a new stake, then as a regional representative. When the company moved the family to Peru to open another new branch, he was called as an Area Authority. The company moved them again, this time to Brazil, where he served as an Area Seventy. He later served as mission president.

Ten years later I came back to my father’s home for a time. My father, who was the ward mission leader, invited me to listen as the missionaries taught two young ladies in his home. The missionaries challenged us to ask Heavenly Father if Joseph Smith was a prophet. I accepted the challenge and spent fourteen hours reading, meditating, and praying about Joseph Smith. It was a spiritual experience that is sacred to me. I read Joseph Smith’s history in the Pearl of Great Price twice that night. I prayed many times and stayed up all night. At nine o’clock the next morning I knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that the gospel was true.
I went to the sister missionaries’ house and asked for baptism. They explained that they needed to teach me seven discussions. I told them, “Give me all seven right now. I need to be baptized.” Two days later, I was. I began at once to work in the Church and to study everything the Church published in Portuguese. I enjoyed it all immensely, and my testimony has been strong ever since. The Church and the gospel have given me everything I have, including my family.

Not long ago my wife and I shared a family home evening with a daughter’s family. The father was a seventy and involved in stake missionary work. To our delight, Robbie, eight years old and newly baptized, brought out his father’s flip charts and gave us a discussion from the missionary lessons. I would like to be that young man’s mission president someday.

Since starting on those paths, we have come to learn how truly merciful God is, how deeply He loves us, and how perfectly compelling His love is for us. When I was 16 years old and not smart enough to know very much at all, the Spirit touched my heart and I realized the significance of the woman that you marry. Starting at that time I began to pray that the Lord would find for me the woman who would be my eternal companion. Those prayers were answered, and all that we now enjoy in our family with children and grandchildren is largely responsible to her.

We made 50 Christmas cards for people without homes who were staying in a temporary shelter in our town. We wanted to make sure they knew they were loved at Christmas.
Jude and Oliver G., ages 4 and 8, California, USA

Elder Neil L. Andersen
(111) The three children in the Saintelus family are rescued after the Haiti earthquake.

“Because I wasn’t living a righteous life, I looked down my nose at others. When you lose the Spirit of the Lord, you don’t judge things properly. You look to judge negatively and to find fault. You wrap yourself in your own cocoon, so to speak, and you rationalize. But when I started working with these men, I found some of these fellows like to do the things that I like to do. I found out that they put their shoes on the same way I did. It was the influence of those men; they accepted me. They put their arms around me, and they accepted me for what I was and who I was. And we went to work, and I ate in their homes. And I just started catching the Spirit.”

Years ago, while a … schoolboy in far-off England, I made acquaintance with an aged sage who placed implicit trust in the … stars … He devoted himself with great energy to instruct me in the mysteries of astrology. I drank at this fountain of error with increasing thirst, and trusted his words with all the power of a child’s simple faith … Before I was ten years old, I had learned to cast the horoscope …
“Among my schoolmates was a big blustering fellow, who ruled … the playground by his great strength. We all acknowledged his supremacy, and paid him tribute of our property … Further, he compelled us to do his arithmetic for him, to draw his maps, and write his essays … If any boy appeared to doubt his authority … a severe beating was applied to bring the rebel to a sense of his duty.
“Worse than this, our oppressor … was the son of a wealthy family, and the teacher favored him …
I consulted the stars, and determined to break the chains that bound us and to set myself and my schoolfellows free … I managed to find from the bully’s sister the date and exact hour of Ben’s birth. With this information I hurried home, and at once proceeded to compute his horoscope. Ah! I might have known it: … He was a son of Saturn, born when the planet was in ill conjunction: it was no wonder then that he was untrustworthy, mean, and cruel. Then I cast the horoscope of the future, and found that at a convenient hour, five o’clock in the afternoon Wednesday, his star would be declining, and mine would be ascending … Surely the day of our deliverance was near at hand: the stars had promised to help me in my dangerous enterprise, and victory was assured. Force should be subdued by the power of superior knowledge.
“So on the morning of the appointed day I confronted the big bully on the playground, and challenged him to meet me that evening at five o’clock, boldly expressing my determination to show him who would be master from that time forth … He laughed loudly and cuffed my ears; but this I bore … for the time of revenge had not yet come … During the day I received many a hearty wish for success …
“At five o’clock we were at the appointed place; a score of boys were there to see that everything was fair. My antagonist was nearly 30 centimeters taller, and fully a stone (14 pounds) heavier than I, but these were trifles I ignored; had I not the happy assurance of the stars that I should win? I made a speech to the burly fellow, telling a few of his many acts of oppression and cruelty, and closed with a … flourish, declaring that henceforth we would be free. This was received with a laugh of derision by my opponent, and the hostilities began.
“The conflict, though fierce, was … brief. I gradually recovered consciousness, and found myself lying on the ground, cheek cut, eyes bruised, nose smashed, a couple of teeth loosened, and a quantity of hair gone. The bully left without a scratch.
“As I slowly walked homeward, I was in an unusually thoughtful state. I began for the first time in my life to have serious doubts about astrology. Amongst my family my appearance created considerable consternation; then my father reminded me of his oft repeated injunctions against fighting; and to impress the lesson firmly upon my mind, he proceeded to illustrate his lecture by hitting me several times with the buckle end of a stout strap.
“This was convincing. My doubts vanished, and with them all my confidence in the horoscope. I knew that astrology was a fraud.”
(James E. Talmage, extracted from an article entitled, “My Study of Astrology,” which appeared in The Contributor in 1893.)

In contrast, Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon at the rate of about 10 pages per day, completing the task in about 85 days! (Many of us feel good if we can read the book in that time.)
Such a pace is even more remarkable considering the circumstances under which the Prophet labored. In that same period, while enduring constant distractions and incessant hostility, Joseph Smith moved more than 100 miles from Harmony, Pennsylvania, to Fayette, New York. He applied for a copyright. He received revelations comprising 12 sections of the Doctrine and Covenants. Heavenly beings restored the holy priesthood. Yet he completed the translation in less than three months.

In the yearbook of which I have spoken is the picture of a young woman. She was bright and effervescent and beautiful. She was a charmer. Life for her could be summed up in one short word—fun. She dated the boys and danced away the days and nights, studying a little but not too much, just enough to get grades that would take her through graduation. She married a boy of her own kind. Alcohol took possession of her life. She could not leave it alone. She was a slave to it. Her body succumbed to its treacherous grip. Sadly, her life faded without achievement.

As I returned to my seat on the plane, I thought of those two girls of whom I have spoken to you tonight. The life of the one had been spelled out in a three-letter word: F–U–N. It had been lived aimlessly, without stability, without contribution to society, without ambition. It had ended in misery and pain and early death.