Gospel Story Finder

When children misbehave, let’s say when they quarrel with each other, we often misdirect our discipline on what they did, or the quarreling we observed. But the do—their behavior—is only a symptom of the unseen motive in their hearts. We might ask ourselves, “What attributes, if understood by the child, would correct this behavior in the future? Being patient and forgiving when annoyed? Loving and being a peacemaker? Taking personal responsibility for one’s actions and not blaming?”
How do parents teach these attributes to their children? We will never have a greater opportunity to teach and show Christlike attributes to our children than in the way we discipline them. Discipline comes from the same root word as disciple and implies patience and teaching on our part. It should not be done in anger. We can and should discipline the way that Doctrine and Covenants 121 teaches us: “by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; by kindness and pure knowledge” (verses 41–42). These are all Christlike be’s that should be a part of who we, as parents and disciples of Christ, are.

After Elder Ronald A. Rasband received his call to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, he read John 15:16: “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you.”
Elder Rasband said, “I had a spiritual impression that there’s nothing about this [call] that was … my desire. It was the Lord’s decision.”

Three years later, Max hurt his back and was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t be healed, so we had to say goodbye. Heavenly Father comforted me and gave me peace. The Holy Ghost reminded me that we had almost lost Max three years ago, but God helped us find him. I’m grateful that He gave us more time to love Max.

Another young man on Coach Marcus Cloud’s team has accepted the gospel. While the New Era was in Hempstead, we talked with Javier Sauceda (above), who was being taught the discussions by the missionaries. When Javier asked to be baptized, he requested that his coach perform the ordinance. Coach Cloud was thrilled by Javier’s request.

During the past years I have at times been asked by the Brethren to meet with repentant members of the Church and interview them for the restoration of their temple blessings. This has always been a spiritually moving experience to restore the blessings of those wonderful people who have repented. I have asked some of them the question, “What happened in your life that caused you to temporarily lose your membership in the Church?” With tear-filled eyes they answered: “I didn’t obey the basic principles of the gospel: prayer, attending church regularly, serving in the Church, and studying the gospel. I then gave in to temptations and lost the guidance of the Holy Spirit.” It is always a special experience for me to meet these repentant souls and to feel with them the miracle of forgiveness and the joy of being reunited with the Saints and the Holy Spirit.

“Can we come in?” Lori asked.
Emily looked over the top of the fort she had built with Lisa. Their little sister Lori and brother Greg were back, and they wanted to come in. Again.
“No,” Emily said.
“Please?” Greg asked.
“No,” Lisa repeated.
Emily and Lisa had spent an hour building their fort out of cushions and sheets and cardboard boxes. It was perfect. They had built it next to the Ping-Pong table, and to get in you had to crawl through a tunnel under the table. It was tall enough to stand up in, but there wasn’t enough room for little brothers and sisters.
“You already have your own fort,” Emily said.
“OK,” Lori sighed. “Let’s go.” Greg followed her back to their fort. It was just a blanket draped over a chair. It didn’t have a tunnel or anything.
“They’re gone!” Lisa said. “Now we can play.” She opened their box of paper dolls. Emily cut out a dress she had drawn. They set up the rest of their game—the castle, the servants’ quarters, the wicked prince.
They played for a while, but it wasn’t as fun as usual.
“I’m bored,” Lisa said, setting down her paper doll.
“And I don’t want to be the prince anymore,” Emily said. “Maybe we need more people to play. Maybe Lori and Greg could help.”
“No,” Lisa said. “They’ll just ruin the clothes, and they won’t play the games we want them to.”
“Yeah. I guess I’m done playing this game. Let’s do something else.”
“Let’s build a tree fort!” Lisa said.
Outside, Emily and Lisa dragged boards over to the giant cherry tree. They made a platform they could sit on in the middle of the tree. It was perfect. They could reach ripe cherries right where they sat!
Soon they heard the back door open. Here came Lori and Greg. Their eyes got big when they saw the fort.
“Can we come up?” Lori asked.
“Can we have some cherries?” Greg asked.
“No,” Emily said. “Get your own cherries.”
Lisa looked at Emily, then nodded. “Go play in your own fort.”
“But our fort’s no fun!” Lori wailed. “It’s no fun without you!” Lori ran back to the house, and Greg followed.
Lisa was quiet after they left. She ate another cherry. “Maybe we should have let them come up,” she said.
Emily nodded. “We weren’t very nice,” she said quietly.
“What do you think we should do?”
“I have an idea …” Emily said.
Soon Lisa and Emily sneaked back to their old fort, where Lori and Greg were playing. They left a note outside the tunnel door, knocked, then ran outside. Lori read the note out loud: “We’re sorry we were so mean. We want to play with you too. Love, Lisa and Emily.”
“They want to play with us!” Greg shouted. He pushed open the tunnel door and raced outside. Lori followed. This time Lisa and Emily let them climb up. They all crowded onto the small platform and ate cherries.
“We were thinking we should build a town,” Emily said. “I’ll run the store and be the seamstress.”
“I’ll write the newspaper,” Lisa said, “and Greg can be the postman. And the mayor.”
“What will I be?” Lori asked.
“You can run the store with me,” Emily said.
They all climbed down and ran back to the playroom. Lisa and Lori cut out cardboard coins while Emily and Greg took down the giant fort. They would need the cushions and boxes to build the post office and the grocery store and their houses. And later, maybe even a zoo.

Anger is an emotion everyone is subject to at one time or another. The difference is that some people learn to control their anger while others don’t. If you lose your temper, then you’re not in control. Satan is.

Something that helped me was to watch other people to see what they looked like when they lost their tempers. When I saw how foolish other people looked, I made a promise to myself to practice self-control and not lose my temper. I am learning patience.

Kurtis Hyde, 19Lovelock, Nevada

Well, I’m the eighth child in a family of nine, and I wonder if I gave my older brothers and sisters such a hard time. Oh, I’m sure that I did things like spill food on their clothes as they were heading out the door for a date, but it seemed that no matter how badly I embarrassed them, they still treated me kindly. I admired them a lot.
I especially looked up to my older sister Lynette. I started second grade when she entered college. We both had a love for music. She was majoring in music composition and spent many hours at the piano. When she practiced, I often sat on the couch next to the piano and listened to her play. I watched as her fingers glided over the keys and wondered if I would ever be able to play like that. I liked to think that by keeping her company, I was helping her out in some way.
One day as I listened to her practice, I noticed she was playing something new. “Hey, Lynette! That sounds like wind chimes!” I said.
She explained to me that she was composing a piece for her class. She then decided to name the song “Wind Chimes.” She even let me help her with it. She showed me which two notes to play on the organ pedals while she played the rest of the song on the piano. I tried in vain to keep the right rhythm, and she just smiled and said, “Try to keep it even, Rebecca.”
By then I was feeling pretty special. I couldn’t believe that she was letting me, a second grader, help her with her college homework.
A few days later Lynette told me that her composition had been graded. She said that “we” got an A! I was on cloud nine. I was happy for her, and at the same time I felt like a princess because she had let me be a part of it.
Now I’m a freshman in college and going through the struggles of being a music major myself. I even have some of the same teachers that she had. There are times when I have difficult questions, and I know just who to go to for help. Although Lynette is now married and lives miles away, I call her and she patiently explains the theory of music to me. For those few moments, it feels like we are once again a team. Nothing makes me happier than to be able to phone her again a few days later and say, “Hey, Lynette! We got another A!”
As the years come and go, I’ll always remember the time my big sister shared with me. She took the time to make me feel special—to let me know she cared. It’s a great lesson I learned about sisterhood.

“I have seen the fervent spiritual power of young adults in this Church,” Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said in a Church Educational System fireside broadcast for young adults on March 6, 2011. “I know your capacity.”
He taught four things that will help young adults fulfill their potential and help others regain their faith in Christ: daily prayer, daily scripture study, temple worthiness, and daily acts of service.
“You are the generation the Lord has saved for this day. … I challenge you to become ‘the greatest generation,’” Elder Perry said.
Read, listen to, or watch the address in multiple languages at institute.lds.org. Click on CES Firesides, then choose a language.

When I think about love, I think about the law of fasting.
It was as a young man that I learned about the importance of fasting from the example of my parents. We kids were invited to fast with them once a month, while they would usually fast more than once a month. I learned from my parents that through fasting we can help to take care of the poor and needy. Therefore, through this simple act, we serve both God and our neighbors. And, God, on the other hand, blesses our fasting with personal revelation, comfort and guidance.

Illustrations by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
One day when the Prophet was visiting his parents’ home in Far West, a group of militiamen burst through the door.
Which one of you is Joe Smith?
We’re here to kill him!
Joseph immediately stepped forward, smiled at the men, and shook their hands.
I’m Joseph. Nice to meet you. Please, come and sit down.
The men stared in disbelief at the Prophet as he continued to speak.
We Mormons believe in Jesus Christ and just want peace. But we have had a lot of persecution these past months since we’ve moved to Missouri. As far as I know, none of us have ever broken the law. But if we have, we’re ready to be tried by the law.
Mother, I believe I will go home. Emma will be expecting me.
You shall not go alone, for it is not safe.
We will go with you and guard you.
Thank you.
We promise to disband the militia under us and go home.
If you need us at all, we’ll come back and do whatever you need.
Outside Joseph’s parents’ home, the rest of the men talked about their encounter with the Prophet.
Did you not feel strangely when he took you by the hand? I never felt so in my life.
I felt as though I could not move. I would not harm one hair of that man’s head for the whole world.
This is the last time you will ever catch me coming to kill Joe Smith or the Mormons either.

You watch, as gingerly I step
to the edge of the nest,
knowing you’ve done your best
to nourish me,
I am stronger now, and almost ready
to discover the world around our tree.
I’ve watched you in the sky,
soaring to heights that I
could only dream of.
Yet a yearning inside me
knows where I belong,
It’s an age-old song
that my heart sings
as I, too,
discover my wings.

Sonasi Langi (now deceased) of Kolonga, Tongatupu, often gathered with family members to sing hymns and put flowers on the graves of his father and sister. “Someday we will be reunited,” he said. “I think we will sing the same songs then.”

Joshua’s mommy was sick. She couldn’t get up to work in her garden or do anything fun.
“I want to help Mommy,” Joshua said.
“Why don’t you pray about how you can help her?” Daddy asked.
Joshua knelt down by his bed. “Heavenly Father, please help me find a way to help Mommy feel better.” He stayed on his knees until he thought of what to do.
He got a piece of paper and some crayons and drew a picture of Mommy’s flower garden.
Joshua made sure Mommy wasn’t sleeping before he went in her room. “I made this picture for you,” he said. “Now you can look at your flowers without getting up.”
“It’s beautiful,” Mommy said. “Thank you.”
Joshua kissed Mommy’s cheek. He was glad he had done something to help her feel better.

Growing up in Mesa, Arizona, he set aside preparations to become a professional boxer when he discovered his football talents.

As a young boy, I knew I wanted to be involved with space travel and the great adventure of exploring the “final frontier.” Engineering was a good career to help me. I studied hard and took classes in math, science, and engineering. I also learned that listening, communicating, and public speaking were important too. These skills prepared me to work for the USA’s National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA).
At first I was a space shuttle flight director. Later I became director of the space shuttle program. I planned the shuttle missions to space and managed the missions from launch through landing. I worked with hundreds of engineers, scientists, and astronauts to put the shuttle together and have a successful mission.
Watching the giant space shuttle blast off from Kennedy Space Center was a thrill every time I saw it. With a rush of sounds that shook the ground, the space shuttle roared to life. In just eight minutes, the shuttle soared miles above the earth’s surface, traveling more than 25 times the speed of sound. I loved working with others to accomplish this goal together.
My priesthood quorum and Boy Scout activities helped me develop leadership skills for my career. As I grew, the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ helped me as well. President Thomas S. Monson teaches, “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past.”* This simple idea helped prepare me for my life and for every space shuttle mission. In my job, I have been able to witness the majesty of the universe and God’s creations.

A busy teenager in a rather large family complained about the amount of time taken with daily family prayer. As the wise mother was praying, she intentionally left out the name of the complaining child. As the prayer concluded, the busy child said, “Mother, you left me out of your prayer!” The loving mother explained that she was just responding to the complaint expressed. The busy child exclaimed, “Don’t leave me out.”

I play baseball, and some of the games are on Sunday. I was sad I couldn’t go to those games but happy I could go to church. I read “Farm-Club Fiasco” (Apr. 2019), and it reminded me that I always want to be at the right place on the Sabbath.
Benjamin P., age 8, New York, USA

In a small country town lived a boy named Willard. Willard collected everything imaginable. In fact, his room looked like a junkyard. But Willard knew that one day he would build something truly magnificent with all the junk he’d collected.
Willard started keeping all his junk in his room after his parents told him that he couldn’t leave it scattered throughout the house.
In one corner of his room Willard had an assortment of cardboard boxes. The smaller ones were stuffed inside the bigger ones to save space. Dangling from his doorknob were old shoelaces and pieces of string and yarn. Willard had shoe boxes full of different-size wheels from broken toys. Old wagon wheels were propped against the wall. Piled here and there were old inner tubes, Popsicle sticks, bottle caps, milk cartons, stacks of pictures from magazines, crayons, pencils, and all kinds of tape. And on his dresser he had soda cracker boxes piled to the ceiling.
One evening when Willard’s mother tried to get into his room to say good night, she could barely squeeze through the doorway. “Willard,” she said, “this mess is getting to me.”
When his father pushed into the room, he ordered, “Willard! This stuff has to go. You have until the weekend to get your room cleaned out. That’s it!”
Willard didn’t sleep much that night. He couldn’t possibly throw out all his magnificent junk. He knew that the time had come for him to build something truly magnificent.
It took Willard two days to carry all the junk from his room to the backyard. On the third day he started building. First Willard threaded some heavy wire through an old bicycle inner tube and nailed it to a tree. “A truly magnificent basketball hoop,” he said, pleased with himself.
Then he cut shorter pieces of heavy wire and shaped them into small hoops. “A truly magnificent ringtoss,” he murmured.
Next he built a pushcart, using some discarded wagon wheels. He made a seat for it and oiled the wheels. “Truly magnificent,” he said, beaming.
Willard took the tops and bottoms off all his cardboard boxes. He laid them end to end, forming a maze. He crawled through the boxes and pasted his collection of pictures on the inside walls. A truly magnificent fun house, thought Willard.
Willard stacked some milk cartons on a crate, then called it a day.
On the fourth day Willard still had lots to do. He made airplanes and little houses out of his piles of Popsicle sticks. He made kites out of newspapers and used his yarn collection for tails. Finally he built lots of his favorite toy—cracker-box trucks. He cut down one end of each box a little, folded down the flaps to make the cab, and taped the folds in place. He punched holes in the sides of the box, pushed dowels through for axles, snapped on wheels.
On the fifth day Willard put up a sign in his front yard:
WILLARD’S MAGNIFICENT CARNIVAL
ANY GAME OR RIDE—ONLY 5 PRETTY ROCKS
MAGNIFICENT PRIZES
Curious, all the children in the little town came to his carnival. They played ringtoss and basketball and knocked down milk cartons with balls. There was always a line of kids waiting to ride the pushcart.
One girl came out of the fun house and said, “Willard, this is the best fun house I’ve ever been in—it’s not even scary.” One boy said, “Willard, this is great. I have enough rocks to spend the whole day here.”
Willard gave prizes to the game winners. They could choose an airplane, a house, a kite, or a cracker-box truck. Like Willard, their favorite was the cracker-box trucks. “These are really nifty,” they said. Everyone wanted one, even the girls.
After two days of fun and games, Willard was out of prizes. So he asked for everyone’s attention. “Thank you all for coming to my carnival. You may take home anything that you see here.”
Some children took bottle caps, some took boxes, others took wheels and odds and ends until everything was gone. Soon Willard’s backyard was clean and quiet and back to normal.
All during the carnival, Willard’s parents had looked on in amazement. Now his father said, “I’m really proud of Willard for having this carnival. He got rid of all his junk and provided a great time for all the kids in town.”
“He certainly did!” said his mother.
But when they walked into Willard’s room to tell him how proud they were of him, they were stunned. All over the floor, and in every nook and cranny, were boxes and sacks filled to the top with pretty rocks!

Yesterday
My professor immensely shocked me
By detrimentally comparing
My personal Zion
To a snug salt mine
Where all are already seasoned
And, consequently, tend to feel comfortable
Just sitting idle
(Like after a Thanksgiving dinner)
Thinking, “All is well.”
While my face turned crimson with anger,
He continued by comparing it to
A cozy candle shop
Where all already shine bright
And, therefore, become increasingly content
Just staying inside,
Not realizing that beyond lies a
Light-thirsting darkness.
I pridefully retorted,
“But kind brother,
History has proven that there
Is great strength in numbers!
Haven’t you heard the saying,
‘United we stand; divided we fall’?”
“Yes,” he replied,
“But remember this my young sister;
Too much salt kills once productive soil,
And too much light blinds once receptive eyes.
“But sprinkle that same salt throughout the world
And it preserves the rotting meat,
And where deathly darkness dwells
One small light—even a child’s—
Can lead wandering lambs to everlasting life.”