Gospel Story Finder

At one point in my life, I had a highly paid job with great responsibility and recognition. One day my wife said, “You are so busy in your work. You should pray and think about whether you should find a new job that would make you more available to serve the Lord.” We prayed and received a confirmation by the Spirit that I should change jobs. But I was still a little resistant. When I prayed about it, I told the Lord the name of the only company I would consider working for if I quit my job.
Three weeks later, I contacted a recruiting agency and had an interview. In the end, the person said one of his clients had just requested a new director. It was the company I had mentioned in my prayer. It’s a small company that has such openings only every 10 years or so. It was a miracle.
I jokingly told my wife, “I have good news and bad news. The good news is I’m going to be hired by that company. The bad news is I think the Lord has something in store for me.”
I signed on with that company on a Friday. On Saturday I was called as the stake president.
My wife and I placed greater value on the promptings of the Spirit and serving God than in material blessings or our intellectual satisfaction or social recognition. We sought the Lord’s will and received spiritual confirmation that everything would be all right. That was one of the greatest experiences in my life.

While serving as a member of the Seventy, Elder Shayne M. Bowen gave a conference address in which he told how angels blessed his family. After Elder Bowen swerved to avoid a car that crossed into his lane, the van carrying his family rolled over and landed on the passenger’s side. Their 10-year-old daughter, Emily, was trapped under the vehicle. Elder Bowen and a few others were able to miraculously lift the van onto its wheels. Although Emily was lifeless when the van was removed, she eventually made a full recovery. Elder Bowen said: “Those who lifted the van off of Emily observed that the van seemed to weigh nothing. I knew that heavenly angels had joined with earthly angels to lift the vehicle off of Emily’s body.”

Waupee came upon a ring in the prairie that seemed to have been worn by many moving feet, but there was no trail leading to or from the ring. Waupee hid, and soon twelve dancing sisters descended to earth in a basket and began to dance around the ring. Waupee caught one of the sisters and claimed her as his bride. One day they traveled back to the stars, taking with them earthly gifts. There was great rejoicing when Waupee and his family arrived, and each one there chose a gift. Waupee and his wife and son chose a feather from the white hawk, and together they became white hawks and returned to earth.

The second element is further demonstrated in this entertaining piece from the chronicler Francisco Davila’s writing in 1598:
“They say that anciently the world was to be destroyed, and it happened like this: as one Indian tied up his llama in a good pasture … the llama talked to him, saying: ‘Loco, what do you know, or what do you think? Understand that I am worried, and with good reason. You should know that in less than five days the sea is going to swell and burst open until only it covers the whole earth … you must take refuge on the summit of the mountain Vilcacoto.’ Carrying his belongings on his back, and taking his llama on a leash, the Indian arrived at the summit of the indicated mountain where he found many diverse animals and birds huddled together. … The waters rose until only the summit of this Vilcacoto was not covered. … Finally the waters rose so high that some of the frightened animals were almost in it. The fox, for instance, was close to the water, waving his tail in the waves, which is the reason why the fox’s tail is black at the tip. And at the end of five days, the waters began to recede and the sea returned to its former place, even lower than it had been before, and thus the entire earth was cleansed of people except the Indian referred to.”

In the 1970s and 1980s, the international perception of Soweto, South Africa, included images of terror, violence, and rioting. Home to more than four million Blacks, this segregated township southwest of Johannesburg was the scene of great social upheavals that helped bring worldwide attention to—and the eventual abolition of—apartheid, the policy of racial separation in South Africa.
But even during those violent, troubled years, a miraculous transformation was underway in Soweto. The gospel of Jesus Christ was being preached there, a branch of the Church was created, and missionaries and members of various races were working side by side to establish a spirit of tolerance, understanding, unity, and peace.
Now there is a stake in Soweto, and the future is bright. Two young men are deacons in the Soweto Ward and exemplify the dramatic changes that have taken place there.
When you approach the Vilakazi home, you’ll likely hear laughter and the shuffling sounds of a soccer ball being kicked back and forth. When you enter the front gate, identical twin 13-year-old boys are playing an energetic game, teasing each other good-naturedly between kicks of the ball.
The yard is immaculate, the lawn and flower garden have been tended with great care, and the car parked in the driveway is polished. Sister Vilakazi smiles when you compliment her on her home and garden. “The twins help with the work,” she says.
These 13-year-old twin brothers—filled with seemingly boundless energy and enthusiasm—are also best friends and are together practically all the time. They are in the same classes at school and church and have many of the same friends and interests. When Nkosinathi is swimming, playing sports, or sketching elephants, lions, and tigers, Bonginkosi is usually right there doing the same thing. When Bonginkosi is studying the scriptures, passing the sacrament, or bearing his testimony to a friend, Nkosinathi is more than likely right alongside him.
Except at school, where some know them as Allen and Bryan, Nkosinathi and Bonginkosi use their African names. The names reflect their parents’ joy at their birth. In their native Zulu tongue, Nkosinathi’s name means “God be with us.” Bonginkosi’s name means “We thank the Lord.” Both boys take seriously the responsibilities that come with their names.
Their parents and four older brothers and sisters had already joined the Church when the twins, the youngest in the family, were born. The whole family was sealed in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple when Nkosinathi and Bonginkosi were five years old. The twins were baptized at age eight and were ordained deacons at age 12.
Most of their friends at school are not yet members of the Church, and Nkosinathi and Bonginkosi know the importance of representing the Church well and sharing the gospel with friends.
Sometimes people tease the twins because they won’t follow the crowd in doing things they shouldn’t. Does the teasing and name-calling bother them? “Not that much,” says Nkosinathi, “because I know what’s right. So I just walk away.” Both boys admit that at those times, it’s especially nice to have a twin brother close by.
Their courage and example have been rewarded. For example, “our friend Mbuso Yende became interested in the Book of Mormon,” says Bonginkosi, “so we gave him a copy. Then we invited him to church.” The boys invited the full-time missionaries to teach Mbuso in their home. As a result, Mbuso was baptized and is now a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood in the Soweto Ward. And Mbuso’s mother and other family members are listening to the missionary discussions and attending church with the Vilakazi family.
Having tasted the delicious fruit of missionary success, they are more encouraged than ever to continue preparing for their missions.
“I want to go on a mission to teach the gospel to people who don’t know, who aren’t fortunate enough to have learned about the gospel,” says Bonginkosi.
“I also want to share the message of our Church,” says Nkosinathi, “so others may know the truth.”
Although their missions are six years away, both boys are focused on their goal. “We study the scriptures together and in family home evening,” says Nkosinathi, adding that they are looking forward to attending seminary when they’re old enough. “And we pray every day,” says Nkosinathi. As a result, they feel more prepared to answer questions about the Church and to bear their testimonies. It’s not at all uncommon to see one or both of them—in white shirts and ties—helping the full-time missionaries tract and teach.
The twins do chores around the house to earn money and learn skills for their missions. They help their dad, Gideon Ndondo Vilakazi, by washing the car and working in the yard. When their older sister is working, they help care for her baby. They are learning how to cook (Bonginkosi’s specialty is chicken curry) and to iron their own shirts. “They help me with the dishes and the laundry,” says their mom, Lovedalia Thandekile Vilakazi. “And they help me clean the house by sweeping and scrubbing the floors.”
The boys loved their years in Primary. (Their mother is Primary president.) They learned the Articles of Faith and, at a moment’s notice, can still recite or sing all 13 word for word and explain their meanings.
Now they are following their dad’s footsteps in the priesthood. (Brother Vilakazi is high priests group leader.) “Being a deacon means a lot to me,” says Bonginkosi. “I feel I’ve grown a lot by finishing Primary and going into the deacons quorum. I was really excited to pass the sacrament for the first time.”
In addition to passing the sacrament, the twins and the six other deacons in the ward collect the hymnbooks after meetings, clean and wash the sacrament trays, close the windows, and help keep the meetinghouse tidy. And they enjoy participating in activities with other young men and young women in their ward, such as playing soccer, swimming, hiking, giving service, and attending Mutual.
Their heroes are Nephi and Joseph Smith. And they also have modern-day heroes. “I look up to my bishop,” says Bonginkosi, “because he’s a very righteous man.”
“He always assists people with any problem they have,” says Nkosinathi.
Energetic teenagers, faithful bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood, a blessing and support to parents and family, good friends to others, prospective missionaries. These young men—and many others like them—represent Soweto’s bright promise for the future. “God be with us!” “We thank the Lord!”

One of the strongest recollections I have of being a missionary is how close I drew to the Lord through the practice of regular prayer. In my day the mission home was located on State Street in Salt Lake City. It was a large house that had been converted to a missionary training center. It had large dormitory rooms with perhaps as many as 10 beds in a room. We checked in on Sunday night.

The week before I entered the mission field was an exciting time. There were a lot of parties and farewells. I am afraid that I was not properly rested and prepared for the training I was to receive at the mission home. As the evening of our first day in the mission home came to a close, I was weary. While waiting for the other missionaries to prepare themselves for bed, I stretched out on my bed and promptly fell asleep. My sleep, however, was interrupted by a feeling that I was surrounded. As the fog of sleep lifted, I heard the words of a prayer being said. I opened my eyes, and much to my surprise I found all the elders in my dormitory room kneeling around my bed, concluding the day with a prayer. I quickly closed my eyes and acted as if I was asleep. I was too embarrassed to get out of bed and join them. Even though my first experience with prayer as a missionary was an embarrassing one, it was the beginning of two wonderful years of frequently calling upon the Lord for guidance.

Throughout my mission, I prayed with my companion each morning as we began a new day. The process was repeated each night before we retired. We offered a prayer before we studied, a prayer as we left our apartment to go out tracting, and of course special prayers when special guidance was needed to direct our missionary work. The frequency of our appeals to our Father in Heaven gave us strength and courage to press forward in the work to which we had been called. Answers would come, sometimes in astonishingly direct and positive ways. The guidance of the Holy Spirit seemed to be magnified the more times we appealed to Heavenly Father for direction on a given day.

Among many unsigned letters I have received was one of particular interest. It contained a $20 bill and a brief note which stated that the writer had come to my home many years ago. When there was no response to the bell, he had tried the door and, finding it unlocked, had entered and walked about. On the dresser he saw a $20 bill, took it, and left. Through the years his conscience had bothered him and he was now returning the money.
He did not include anything for interest for the period during which he had used my money. But as I read his pathetic letter I thought of the usury to which he had subjected himself for a quarter of a century with the unceasing nagging of his conscience. For him there had been no peace until he had made restitution.

In the Philippines, there are science high schools that have a strong focus on academics. Students in these schools take more subjects, spend more time in class, and have a lot of homework. This is the kind of environment I was in as a young woman.
I gave up many activities upon entering high school because I knew I would be spending so much time studying. I almost never attended Church activities and would occasionally miss church on Sundays because of school events. I also struggled to attend seminary.
One Saturday my seminary teacher told us how busy she was in her high school days. Despite her schedule, she managed to do her seminary assignments and study scripture mastery at the library. I decided to take up her challenge to do the same. I carried my scripture mastery cards with me all the time and reviewed them during my free time. I prayed for help to balance my seminary study with the demands of school. I memorized scriptures while commuting to school. I took the cards out while I chatted with my friends. During breaks and lunchtime, my friends enjoyed quizzing me on the mastery cards. And then some of them started bringing their scriptures and talking about activities at their churches. I felt the change in atmosphere around me, and school felt lighter and better.
My three younger sisters followed my lead, and now my family reaps the blessings of the scriptures in our home. Learning my scripture mastery verses was a very simple act, but more important than the memorized words, I learned the difference the scriptures could make in me and the people around me. I know that whatever challenge or trial we face, we will always find strength and guidance in the words of our loving Savior.

I don’t ever want to forget him. You see, Hans got really sick last month—Mother said it was meningitis. Even though the doctor and the bishop came to help, he died.
We all cried when Hans died. Mother and Father hugged each other and cried. They hugged me too. Our neighbors and friends came over and they cried. I’m glad that our friends were there. It helped to talk to my friends. It helped to just sit on the porch with them beside me.
Hans’s funeral was in the morning. My grandparents and all my cousins and aunts and uncles came. Our friends and neighbors were there, too. Mother and Father played a song for Hans on the piano and then talked a lot about Hans and Jesus.
Hans is buried near a little pine tree. I like that tree. Father says that we can watch it grow. It will remind us that Hans is really alive, too, only with Jesus.
I know that Hans will always be my brother because Mother and Father were married in the temple. I didn’t know how important that was until Hans died. Now I do.

“When I was only 15 years old,” said Colleen Webb Asay, “I committed myself to living the gospel.”
At the time, having proven herself capable and dependable, she was called to serve as the stake organist. In those days stake officers were set apart by visiting General Authorities. Elder John A. Widtsoe, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, laid his hands on this young girl’s head and, with the authority that he held, pronounced a blessing.
“I’ll never forget that,” she said. “It’s hard to explain it, but it was like an electrical feeling that went clear through me, and after it was over, I didn’t want anyone to talk to me or shatter that feeling. I remember thinking how great the gospel is. I guess the Holy Ghost witnessed to me that day how important it is. I remember the feeling I had. I wanted to serve the Lord however or whenever I could. That was a great day. I made a commitment.” And that early commitment has made a difference in all the rest of her life.

The other night when I announced to my family that I was taking my adorable wife to see a certain GP (rated general admittance with parental guidance) movie, my thirteen-year-old daughter firmly stated, “Oh, Daddy, I don’t think you’d better take Mother to that show. It has some bad things you shouldn’t see.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because I’ve seen it, of course, and I just don’t think it’s the kind of show you ought to go to.”
“When did you see it?” I thundered.
Well, it seems that a neighbor had taken her daughter and mine to the GP-rated show.
After my family had given me my allotted time for stern words on the subject of permissive neighbors (my own children think I’m a strict neanderthal), my wife sweetly pointed out that I ought to be grateful that a thirteen-year-old girl would be concerned enough to warn me about a movie she’s seen that isn’t fit for her forty-eight-year-old father and his ageless wife.
That really set me off. If children are going to be that strict with their parents, how will we ever learn about life? Fortunately, in this age of tyrannical youth, my children still permit me to discuss such matters at family night, so the following Monday after our regular discussion I conducted a survey to find out just what my children think about today’s movies.
Billy, nearly ten, said that from what he’s seen, “Kids could make better movies than grown-ups.” He also thought that a boy nearly ten ought to be able to see any movie his parents can see.
Kristin, age thirteen, agreed with Bill, but conceded that “if parents are dirty-minded, I guess it’s all right if they go to a dirty movie, but I don’t want to go and I wouldn’t want you to. I’d be embarrassed for you.”
Dick, nearly eighteen, vigorously disagreed with his younger brother and sister. He feels that some movies are all right for grown-ups (people nearly eighteen) but not for children thirteen or younger. He feels that he has been unaffected by the raw scenes in movies he’s seen, and that as long as a movie makes him laugh, he doesn’t mind if it’s a bit racy. He feels that his personal standards are secure in the gospel, and this is why he is of the opinion that it’s all right for him to see a picture that he wouldn’t want his little brother or sister to see.
Elizabeth, nearly twenty, heatedly responded: “I don’t think young, impressionable kids ought to see movies with rough language or dirty sequences.” And then she said wistfully, “We Mormons can’t isolate ourselves from the world, but there are certainly a lot of tasteless movies being made.” She informed us that she judges a movie by how she feels when she comes out of the theater after the show. “As we walked out of a family musical, all of us in the group were happily singing and we felt good, but after seeing another movie (rated GP, by the way), I felt depressed and low. I won’t go to a movie any more if it’s vulgar.”
Then we discussed a recent war movie that I had seen and enjoyed, but that was loaded with rough language. Elizabeth too had seen the movie but was repelled by the gory war sequences as much as by the language. Dick, on the other hand, didn’t mind either.
Now I didn’t take my nine-year-old son to see that war movie because I didn’t think he was yet mature enough to overlook the rough aspects and appreciate the rest. I did take my seventeen-year-old son because I wanted him to see how horrible World War II had been, and I wanted him to gain some insights about some of the men on whom both sides depended.
Yet I must confess I’m inconsistent (aren’t you lucky that your parents are not?). I recently directed a musical that had been made into a movie, and I let my then fifteen-year-old daughter see the stage version but not the film version because it contained one very raw scene. To this day she needles me about that because “all my friends got to see the movie.” She reminded me of her frustration again when the movie was released for television.
Why wouldn’t I let her go?
I suppose, like all parents, I wanted to play it safe. I love my children too much to play roulette with their eternal happiness. Because I’m in theater, I’m acutely aware of how human beings are mimetic creatures. All of us have a vital urge to imitate. That is one of the chief ways we learn. Through our ability to imitate, remember, and synthesize, we cannot help but be affected by images and symbols we see and hear. Why else would billions be spent for television advertising if the images we see do not affect our behavior? To me it is sophistry for television officials to claim that a viewer’s behavior is not affected by programming content but that advertising content does affect behavior.
Research on the effects of the mass communication media is not conclusive enough for me as a parent to abandon my own judgment on what is desirable for my children to experience. I choose to use my common sense, small though that may be, to try to guide my children to a happy, fulfilled life, and I want them to have healthy, normal relationships with other people, using the gospel as the standard.
As a parent, I have the obligation to guide my children to avoid anything I think is harmful to them until they are old enough to make intelligent decisions on their own, including how best to spend their time, and I realize that my own example is one of the chief patterns for their behavior.
If more of us tried to follow Paul’s advice to seek after good, virtuous, and praiseworthy things, including movies, there’d be more good things to see. It’s worth a try.
Meantime, in spite of occasional frustrations, I’m glad to have in this permissive age a strict thirteen-year-old daughter to regulate my own movie going. Other parents should be so lucky!

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Augusto sat on his porch to enjoy the sunshine. His daughter, Mylene, climbed onto his lap.
“Tatay (Dad),” she said, “why don’t we go to church like my friends?”
Augusto wasn’t sure what to say.
“Well,” he said finally, “your mom and I went to different churches before we got married. But afterwards we stopped. We still believe in God and study the Bible, though.”
Mylene nodded. But Augusto kept thinking about her question. Maybe he did need to take his family to church.
Augusto decided to pray. “If you want me to serve in a church or do anything for you, just let me know,” he told Heavenly Father.
A few days later, there was a knock at the door. It was two young men in white shirts and black nametags. They said they were from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Augusto had many questions for them. For nine months, he listened to them teach. Finally, he decided to be baptized. He promised God that he would always do his best to obey and help others. His wife, Myrna, was baptized one month later. And little Mylene was happy to go to church!
Augusto and his family helped the Church to grow. They helped build the Church’s first chapel in the Philippines. Augusto also served as a branch president several times. Even though it was hard, Augusto remembered the promise he made at his baptism to do his best.
Years passed. Augusto’s family grew, and so did the Church. When the first stake in the Philippines was organized, Augusto was the stake president. Mylene grew up and got married in the temple. So did Augusto’s other children. Some served missions too.
Eventually, Augusto was called to be a mission president in the Philippines. He helped the missionaries have faith and share the gospel, just like the missionaries who taught him.
One day, Augusto got a phone call from the prophet. He asked Augusto to serve as a General Authority. That meant Augusto would teach other leaders in the Church. It also meant he would give a talk in general conference!
When it was his turn to speak, Augusto stepped up to the pulpit. He took a deep breath. He talked about the faithful members in the Philippines. He talked about the missionaries there who worked so hard. And he shared his testimony of God’s love.
As he sat back down, Augusto felt happy. He knew Heavenly Father had helped him keep the promise he made at baptism. And no matter what happened, Augusto knew he would keep that promise for the rest of his life.

Clara McMaster was the eleventh child in her family, and she learned to love music at an early age. She sang and accompanied others on the piano as she grew up in Brigham City, Utah. For twenty-two years she was a member of the Tabernacle Choir. Today she and her husband sing together for numerous church occasions. “Music is a rich gift of God, and it is in the world to make the lives of His children happier and better.” Sister McMaster says.
When serving on the Primary General Board, Sister McMaster was asked to write a song for the first reverence program. She worked hard and prayed that she would be prompted to write what would be best for the children. One day as she was looking out the window and pondering her assignment, an idea came to her. She went to the piano and quickly wrote it down. The new song was “Reverently, Quietly.” “I felt very humble,” she said. “If you prepare and do all that you can do, then Heavenly Father will help you.”

The children sang songs, danced, and even put on a skit of “Cinderella” for the girls. Although they couldn’t understand the children, that didn’t slow things down. Seventeen-year-old Elisabeth Farnsworth says, “The language barrier didn’t matter because we were able to communicate through our spirits.”
When the children finished their program, they asked the young women to sing for them. “As we stood to sing ‘I Am a Child of God’ to these children, who didn’t understand English, tears came to my eyes,” says Elisabeth. “I received the feeling that what we sang was true and that, even though we speak a different language and come from different countries, we all are children of the same Heavenly Father who knows what each of us needs. He does love each of his children. These children were away from their families, and they needed to know that they were loved.” The Lord had provided that love through the young women.

Radmila was baptized on 22 February 1975 in Zurich, Switzerland. She later moved back to Belgrade, Yugoslovia, where the Church was just being organized. In 1981 she served a mission to Montreal, Canada, the first missionary to be called from Yugoslovia. Now she is finishing a graduate degree in physical therapy at Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah. She also helps translate Church materials into Serbo-Croatian, the Yugoslav national language.
As she look back, Radmila says she feels Heavenly Father performed many miracles in her life. Once she questioned the existence of God. Now she knows that God has a strong love for her, and she wants to serve him any way she can.

When I was in an elders quorum presidency, we worked with several less-active families. In a personal interview with one couple, I asked, “Isn’t it about time you went to the temple with your family?”
I couldn’t believe their answer: they said yes.
We cried.
They were asked to speak about their “conversion” in a Saturday evening session of stake conference, and as they expressed their love, I cried. I thought I had used up all my tears by the time we went to the temple—until I saw them and their beautiful daughters kneel at the altar and be sealed for time and eternity.

An acquaintance of mine used to live in a ward with some of the highest statistics in the Church—attendance was high, home teaching numbers were high, Primary children were always well behaved, ward dinners included fantastic food that members rarely spilled on the meetinghouse floor, and I think there were never any arguments at Church ball.

My friend and his wife were subsequently called on a mission. When they returned three years later, this couple was astonished to learn that during the time they were away serving, 11 marriages had ended in divorce.

Although the ward had every outward indication of faithfulness and strength, something unfortunate was happening in the hearts and lives of the members. And the troubling thing is that this situation is not unique. Such terrible and often unnecessary things happen when members of the Church become disengaged from gospel principles. They may appear on the outside to be disciples of Jesus Christ, but on the inside their hearts have separated from their Savior and His teachings. They have gradually turned away from the things of the Spirit and moved toward the things of the world.

I really enjoy reading the Church Magazine. Recently I have been having problems. I knew I would have to tell my bishop in order to truly repent. I just couldn’t muster up the strength to confess my sins to him. Then I got the August issue of Tambuli. It discussed the problem I had in the Question and Answer section. (See “Confessing to the Bishop,” page 28.) After reading it I realized that I was not alone. That very day I went to my bishop and talked to him. It was hard, but your article gave me the strength. Thanks to the authors and the youth who shared their experiences. I know that you were truly inspired.
Name Withheld

For example, Roy D. Atkin noticed a number of his classmates drop out after the first year of dental school as the classes became more competitive.
He said, “Some students decided that the way to succeed was by cheating. …
“… But I knew I couldn’t cheat. I wanted to be right with God even more than I wanted to become a dentist.”
During his third year, Roy was offered a copy of an upcoming test. He had the chance to have the test questions ahead of time, but he declined. When the corrected tests were returned, his score was low compared to the high class average.
“Roy,” his professor said, “you usually do well on tests. What happened?”
“Sir,” he said, “on the next exam, if you give a test that you have never given before, I believe you will find that I do very well.”
When the next test was handed out, there were audible groans. It was a test the teacher had never given before. When the graded tests were handed back, Roy had received one of the highest grades in the class. From then on, all the tests were new.1

“Do you want to help me in the garden today?” Mike’s grandpa asked.
“Sure!” Mike said.
Mike loved gardening with Grandpa. The garden had all sorts of flowers, but their favorites were the roses. Mike helped Grandpa water and trim the rose bushes all summer. It didn’t feel like work—it was too fun!
When fall came, Mike and Grandpa trimmed the rose bushes one last time for the year. When they were done, Grandpa said, “These bushes look so healthy! I think next year’s garden will be our best yet.”
That winter Mike’s grandma passed away. At her funeral Mike put his arm around Grandpa when he saw him crying. “I’m sorry, Grandpa. I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” Grandpa said with tears in his eyes.
Day after day, it was hard for Mike to see Grandpa look so sad. One day Mike thought Grandpa might enjoy walking through the garden. But as soon as Grandpa saw the frozen rose bushes, he turned around.
“You go ahead. I don’t like seeing my rose bushes so bare,” Grandpa said.
Mike helped Grandpa walk back to his recliner. Maybe he’ll be happier when spring comes, Mike thought. Then we can work in the garden again.
When spring came, Mike came to help Grandpa trim the rose bushes. They worked in the garden just like before, but Grandpa hardly ever smiled.
Mike prayed to know how to help Grandpa feel happy again. One morning an idea popped into his head: Look in the newspaper.
That’s strange, Mike thought. How would that help Grandpa feel better? Then the thought came again. So he looked through the newspaper.
This is a waste of time, Mike thought. Then something caught his eye: “Now taking nominations for Gardener of the Year.” Mike didn’t understand the word nominations. But it said that readers could send in a letter about a gardener they knew. The newspaper editor would read the letters and choose a Gardener of the Year.
Mike asked Mom to write a letter about Grandpa. “Well, it’s your idea,” she said. “So maybe you should write it. But I’ll help you.”
Mike wrote about how Grandpa was a great gardener. He wrote about how much fun they had working together in the garden. And he told about how happy his grandpa would be if he won the award.
Three weeks later Grandpa got a surprise visit while he and Mike were working in the garden. A newspaper reporter said that she was writing a story about him.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you’ve been chosen as Gardener of the Year!” she said.
Grandpa smiled big and said, “What? I can’t believe it!” Mike had missed seeing Grandpa smile like that.
Later that week Mike, Mom, and Grandpa went to a special dinner to honor Grandpa. The people from the newspaper gave Grandpa an award and asked him to give a speech. Grandpa talked about how he enjoyed gardening with Mike and how much he loved flowers. Just before he sat down, Grandpa smiled right at Mike and said, “This year, we’re going to have one of the best rose gardens ever!”