Gospel Story Finder

by Vickie L. Barnes
Bang! The runners spring into action in response to the starter’s signal. Tiffany is ahead in a second. Her feet pound the soft pavement of the track. She sets her pace, expecting to be passed by the other runners. As she runs, she looks over her shoulder. They are all there—all six of them—their faces strained in their effort to maintain the pace Tiffany has set. She looks forward again, her mind now racing faster than her feet. She is ahead! She has never raced before, so she really doesn’t have anything to compare the experience to, but she feels as if she can go the distance at this pace. The realization that she is ahead seems to give her an extra boost—a little extra energy.
Members of Tiffany’s ward track team line the inside of the track, calling her name, shouting their enthusiasm and encouragement. Tiffany takes one more look over her shoulder. With an exhilaration she has not experienced before, Tiffany bursts through the ribbon at the finish line.
Tiffany won first place in the 12- to 13-year-old division of the 880-yard race in the annual West Jordan Utah South Stake Youth Track Meet. She was one of 200 participants in 11 track and field events. But victory at the finish line was only the beginning of Tiffany’s story. In all her 12 years, Tiffany had never won anything and had never felt that she excelled in anything. She had been an average student because she lacked the self-confidence required for achievement. During the track meet, Tiffany learned she has a physical prowess not enjoyed by many young women. She now trains at least once a week with her Beehive leader, a former high school coach, in preparation for participation in high school and college track.

“We can show love for others by doing kind things. Do something nice for somebody you love, and leave a heart where they will find it,” Cassi’s teacher told them as she handed three red hearts to each class member.
Cassi took her hearts home. Mommy hadn’t had time to make her bed before church. Cassi made Mommy’s bed and put a heart on the pillow.
“Thank you!” Mommy hugged Cassi. “When you make my bed, I feel happy.” Cassi felt happy too.
Cassi’s dog, Floppy, was whining. He was thirsty. Cassi filled his dish and put a heart beside it. Floppy’s tail wagged back and forth as he drank. He was happy.
Cassie had one heart left. Who else did she love? Daddy, of course, but he was out of town for two whole weeks, and she wanted to do something else nice for someone sooner than that. She thought hard all week. She loved Heavenly Father, but how could she do something nice for Him?
On Sunday, Cassi knew what to do! She took her last heart to church to remind her of her plan. She listened to her teacher. She was reverent during sacrament meeting. And when she went home, she drew pictures of her favorite story in the Book of Mormon, put the last red heart with them, and gave them to Mommy to send to a missionary.

Recently we had in our home some nonmember friends from another part of the country, and they were with us for about a week. One of them is a very well educated man. He initially prepared for the ministry, and then determined he would not continue in that vein but would become a psychologist, and he received his doctorate in that field.
Upon graduating, he established a clinic, and in that clinic today there are several psychiatrists and a number of psychologists and social workers. This man is also an adviser to a state board of education and to a state university. He is involved in the accreditation tests of universities.
When we realized that this very well educated person was coming to our home, we wondered what we could show him and how we could tell him about the things that we believe.
First, we brought him here to this magnificent building. It was on a Sunday morning, and he was impressed with the artistic ability of this great choir. He went into the visitors’ centers here on the grounds and was exposed to what is there.
I sought an interview for him with the commissioner of education. I wanted to impress him with the fact that we have people who have some background in the field of education as well. We took him to Brigham Young University and had him visit with persons there who are in his field, hoping that he would be impressed with that great university—and he was impressed.
Then I took him behind the scenes and introduced him to the curriculum planning functions of the Church as described by Elder Packer today. Because of his background in education he had been involved in curriculum planning for all different levels, but as he saw this plan, he was amazed. He said, “I’ve never seen anything like it. You should have the Nobel prize for curriculum planning.”
He saw many things. Then, during his last evening at our home, I said, “What questions do you have?”
He said, “How do you console the bereaved?”
We opened up the Old Testament, and then we read from the New Testament. Then we looked in another testament, the Book of Mormon. We studied from Alma and other parts of this testament that Jesus is the Christ. We then moved on to modern-day scriptures and studied the 76th and 138th sections of the Doctrine and Covenants. We also read from the Pearl of Great Price.
And we talked about the cross-referencing of these scriptures. They are not isolated one from another. They are one integral whole and have come from one source—the Lord God, and his Son Jesus Christ, who through prophets over the ages have inspired those thoughts and had them recorded so that they would lift us to an understanding of the pearl of great price.
We have many wonderful teachings in this Church, all of which contribute to an uplifting, wonderful life. And yet as we look through all these trappings, and down to the very center core, we find that there is the message: yes, the Lord Jesus Christ came in the meridian of time. There he called others—Apostles and seventy, and others—to assist him in the task. He was placed on the cross and then in the tomb, and on the third day he arose. He lives today, and because he lives today, we will live tomorrow. That, I told my friend, is how we console the bereaved.

Often I have felt the priesthood power, power outside myself, moving through me to the person being blessed. I remember blessing a young mother who came seeking renewed strength to endure a difficult pregnancy. She had great faith, and as I blessed her as her bishop, I felt power streaming down my arms and through my fingers into the crown of her head. I felt it course through her body, even to the tips of her toes. It was a powerful, cleansing, rejuvenating force, almost electric in its energy, yet calm and soft and assuring. After the blessing, she arose, and with tears in her eyes said, “I felt that all the way to the tips of my toes.”

I had the opportunity to serve a full-time mission. When my call came to the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission—the only all-female mission in the Church—I admit to feeling nervous about being surrounded by so many women. I needn’t have worried. My testimony of sisterhood grew exponentially as I interacted with countless women who each testified of the Savior in their everyday actions.
My first holidays in the mission field, my mission president gathered all our mission together to watch an uplifting movie. At one point, the film depicted two sisters helping each other overcome daunting circumstances. I felt touched by their unity. As I watched the film and looked around at all the radiant sister missionaries, the Spirit testified strongly to me that sisterhood is an eternal bond prescribed by our Heavenly Father, and I was included. What a wonderful truth: we are never alone, for the Lord has given us all sisters.

Today was Thursday, the day I was going to my friend Stephen’s house after school. Because I am in kindergarten and go to school in the morning, we were going to go somewhere special for lunch first and then go to his house to play.
After we played a game, Stephen’s mother asked if I’d like to play some video games. I love to play video games!
Then I remembered that I was not allowed to play them until Friday. I told her so, and I felt good inside. She was impressed because I had been honest. She told my mom about it when she came to pick me up. Mom was happy that I had been honest and not played the video games. She called me a “Choose the Right” warrior.

The following spiritual experiences speak well for the close relationship Wilford Woodruff had with his Father in Heaven:
—“My missions have been by [the] Spirit of revelation. I was told to go to the Fox Islands [off the coast of northeastern U.S.] by that same still small voice. In the time of the great apostasy in Kirtland the Spirit of the Lord said to me, ‘Get you a partner and go to Fox Islands.’ I knew no more what was in Fox Islands than what was in Kolob. I went there, however, baptized a hundred.”
—Once when he was lost in a severe storm, “groping like the blind for the wall, a bright light suddenly shone around us, and revealed to us our dangerous situation at the edge of a gulf. The light continued with us until we found the road. We then went on our way rejoicing, though the darkness returned and the rain continued.”
—Another time, after he had parked his carriage for the night and he and his family had retired in it, a voice said to him, “Get up, and move your carriage.” A short while later, a big, heavy tree, caught by a whirlwind, was thrown where his carriage had been parked.
—While in London as a missionary, he had a terrifying experience with a “prince of darkness. … As he was about to overcome me I prayed to the Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, for help. I then had power over him and he left me, though I was much wounded. Afterwards three men dressed in white came to me and prayed with me, and I was healed immediately of all my wounds, and delivered of my troubles.”
—“Two weeks before I left St. George, the spirits of the dead gathered around me [in the temple], wanting to know why we did not redeem them. Said they, ‘… We laid the foundation of the government you now enjoy, and we never apostatized from it, but we remained true to it and were faithful to God.’

“These were the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and they waited on me for two days and two nights. … I straightway went into the baptismal font and called upon Brother McAllister to baptize me for the signers of the Declaration of Independence and fifty other eminent men, making one hundred in all.”

In 1977 I graduated from BYU and headed out to Madison, Wisconsin, where I had been accepted into the graduate program in geology. My major professor was a wonderful man by the name of Dr. Campbell Craddock. Cam had the reputation of almost never having seen the summer because he spent summers working in Antarctica, Alaska, or in the islands of the Arctic. Students who followed in his footsteps were sure to be cold and wet during most of their graduate fieldwork. I signed on to work in Svalbard, a group of islands about 500 miles north of Norway. It was a spectacular and wonderful place to work. Four of us from Wisconsin, including Dr. Craddock, were deposited on the shore of an island called Spitsbergen in mid-July of 1978. I was thrilled to be on shore, because for the three days of our voyage on the North Sea in the refitted fishing boat called the Polarstar, I had lain in bed, only rolling over occasionally to vomit into the bag I kept by my bunk. The retching continued even long after there was nothing left in my stomach but a bit of saliva.

During this time I was almost hoping the ship would sink and my pain would be over. I prayed and asked God for relief. Again my prayer was answered. The test worked, although not in the way I wanted—for into my mind came the following words: “My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment; . . . endure it well [and] all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good” (D&C 121:7 and 122:7). I don’t suppose that Joseph Smith was looking for this as the answer to his prayer either. I know that often I tend to push aside or ignore the answers that I don’t want, hoping that the Lord will change His mind. But this does not often happen. Nonetheless, I was glad when the small moment of affliction had passed and we were able to step onto the solid earth. I was even able to smile again and realize that the experience was one that had been for my good. It had humbled me, brought me a better understanding of how much I needed my Father in Heaven, and, later in life, helped me to empathize more fully with my wife as she suffered through months of similar conditions during pregnancy.

The LeGault family joined the Church after they were tracted out by missionaries ten years ago. Although Nathalie was only eight years old when the missionaries came, she searched to find out for herself if the Church was true. “When I was nine years old, I knew it was true,” she says. “My relatives said the girls were joining the Church because their parents had joined. But I said no, I know it’s true. It was my decision to join. I always tell young people you have to have your own testimony, not just the testimony of your friends or family.”

Not far outside the walls of the old city of Jerusalem lies a beautiful garden quietly secluded from the noisy world surrounding it. There is a sense of sacredness within its walls. Upon entering the garden, one’s eyes are drawn toward a tomb—an empty tomb. People come to the garden because of this tomb. Its emptiness stands as a testimony of the completeness of a greater plan.
While living and studying in Jerusalem, I went to this garden often, and on one particular day, after wandering through the quiet walkways, I found my favorite bench and sat down. Shaded by large trees, and nestled behind some flowering bushes, I felt alone. I listened to the birds and thought about the events that took place in the area long ago.
As I opened my scriptures, and my eyes focused on the printed page, the world around me faded. Reading the words was almost unnecessary, for during the months I had spent studying in Israel, they had become imprinted in my mind: “Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulcher, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus. …” (John 19:40–42.)
As I read, images filled my mind. These images came to life and moved before me.
Hastily entering the garden before the sun lowered in the sky, Joseph and Nicodemus carried Christ’s limp body to the tomb where it would be embalmed. Tearful women, devoted to the Savior’s teachings, followed and watched from a distance as the men wrapped the body of their Lord in clean linen with spices, and then laid it on the stone bench in the newly-hewn sepulchre. The sky darkened. The men finished their work and struggled to roll the large stone in place, sealing the tomb. …
Without my thinking about it, my eyes left the page, but they remained focused on the images. … Time passed. The tomb was empty now; the stone rolled away.
Slowly the images in my mind began to fade. The stone bench felt hard beneath me; I heard the birds in the trees above me. As the last image faded completely away, my eyes focused on a bush directly in front of me. It was a flowering daisy bush.
I stared at that bush, fascinated by each individual flower. Pure white petals encircled velvety orange-yellow centers. The face of each flower seemed so innocent, supportive, and cheerful. I felt captivated by their beauty and their message. A scripture came to mind: “And behold, all things have their likeness, and all things are created and made to bear record of me, …” (Moses 6:63.)
I realized that all things are a living testimony of the divinity of Jesus Christ! Each daisy bore testimony that he lives! Their orange-yellow eyes looked upward, single to his glory. His beloved and beautiful creations possess no capacity to doubt his light and truth, for all things were created by him and bear record of him. What love and support Christ must have felt when looking into a bush of daisies, each flower praising him! When the crowds scorned and mocked him; as all the world seemed to turn on him, rejecting him, even hating him, how he must have received comfort from his simple creations and their unwavering testimonies of him.
While living in the land of Israel, I often thought about the great events recorded in scripture. Great things have happened in places surrounded by beautiful creations—high on mountain tops, in sacred groves—and in gardens.
The daisy’s example taught me a simple, but important lesson. I often contemplate the mission I have as one of God’s creations. Would Christ feel love and support if he were to look into my eyes? Are they single to his glory? Does my countenance reflect his love? Do my actions bear a strong and sure testimony that he lives?

Once during a study session, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I asked in a friendly way if my classmates could change the subject. When they refused, I left. I had to do this at every break. Later, they did show some consideration and even some interest. I told them what the Church means to me. Now my classmates do not discuss inappropriate subjects in my presence.
Berendina Jantje Wachtmeester,Apeldoorn Ward, Apeldoorn Netherlands Stake

Born in Ixelles, Belgium, 5 October 1935, Charles Didier recalls that his father, Andre, a Belgian Army officer, was captured at the beginning of World War II. After escaping, he stayed hidden and saw his family only during occasional surprise visits. Elder Didier looks back on a time after his own ninth birthday:
“Because the secret police were looking for him [his father], we were searched—and barely escaped. We went to where he was hiding in Antwerp Province, and from there to live with my great-grandmother in Flanders.” Then Belgium was liberated. “I vividly remember the soldiers trying to get away on bicycles, the airplanes coming, the shooting, and the Allied troops coming into the village.”

When my baby sisters were born, I was worried that they wouldn’t be OK, because they were born early and were so tiny. When we went to each hospital, I put some friendly pictures in their beds to help them feel a little better.
I prayed for them every day. I asked Heavenly Father to bless them that they would be OK. I told Him that I was scared for them. After I prayed, I felt good. I knew that Heavenly Father would answer my prayers.
Next week is my little sisters’ first birthday. They are both doing well now. I am thankful that Heavenly Father answered my prayers.

Everyone knows that computers are useful tools. You can play games, send E-mail to friends, even type up term papers for your European history class. But Laurels in the Aliso Creek Ward, Santa Margarita California Stake, know an even better way to use a computer.
“I looked up my parents in the Ancestral File™ [at her local family history center] on the computer and found the names of thousands of my ancestors. It was really neat!” says 18-year-old Rebecca Hope.
Liz Chocco, another Laurel, prepared the names of two deceased family members and was then baptized for them in the San Diego Temple.
“The Spirit was so strong,” says Liz. “I felt that these two relatives were actually there. I felt an eternal bond with them. The phrase ‘families are forever’ became real to me in the temple.”

I Love Family History! I didn’t always appreciate family history work. That changed when I was baptized for one of my ancestors in the Chile Santiago Temple.
I was a deacon the first time I went to the temple. When I was about to enter the baptismal font, I felt the presence of someone enter the room. I looked up and saw an old man dressed in old clothes. I felt his love and gratitude for me because I was doing his vicarious work. After I was baptized for him and came up out of the water, I looked around for him, but he was no longer there.
I used to think that the temple would provide the names for temple work, so I wasn’t interested in doing family history research. But this experience got me excited about looking for my own family names.
One day I got on my computer and saw that I had received an email from the Church with a family name. I felt that I needed to research more names, so I asked my mother how I could effectively look for names and gather more information about my ancestors.
So far, I’ve found 11 family names, and I know I can find even more. These people never had the opportunity to be baptized while they were on earth, and they have waited a long time for their temple work to be done. I’m glad I can help them through temple and family history work.
Lucas,16, Santiago, Chile

The third area of improvement was finding faith that I could allow our four children, who are now grown, to live their lives without my feeling responsible to make them live a certain way. Some of them were less active in the Church, but I still wanted to influence them for good without infringing on their agency. On one particular visit to the temple, I put their names on the prayer roll and prayed long and sincerely in their behalf. I received a profoundly peaceful assurance that all would be well with them.
When meditating on the experience later, I realized that Heavenly Father loved them even more than I did because He understood them better. He wants to bless them and have them return to Him, and He will provide them with learning opportunities. Now when I begin to worry, I remember that experience and do what I can, knowing the Lord will do the rest.

Years ago, I was involved in the Ensign Stake Genealogical Committee. We held a series of firesides. The climactic of six was given by President Joseph Fielding Smith. (Here is, by the way, an interesting point: six of our Presidents have been temple presidents, he being one.) The last lecture was given on temple marriage. But the week before that I had been asked to speak on vital temple purposes. I struggled with that. I was talking to young people. What was most remarkable came toward the end of what I said. I wanted somehow to let them know that my own assurance about marriage had come within the walls of the temple; that, in effect, my wife and I had had a temple courtship as well as a temple marriage. It was in the temple that I later gave her a ring.
But I didn’t want to acknowledge publicly that I was going to marry this girl. That had not yet been said in private, and therefore I didn’t think it should be said in public. But there came down on me that night (and I have a tape-recording that tells the story) such a witness that I announced, “The Lord has made known to me that I am to be married, and to whom.” She was on the front row, sitting next to my father. It came as a bit of a surprise to him, too. There was much salt water. Have you heard Pasternak’s phrase, “Be so close to those you love that when they weep you taste salt”? I did. I gasped, though, at what I had said and wanted somehow to alter, qualify, call back, change. That was shown in several seconds of silence. Then at last all I could do was say “In the name of the Lord, amen,” and sit down.

Today it was raining, and I had nothing to do. My friend came to play with me. “Let’s build things with blocks,” she said.
I built a brown rocket ship that would fly to the moon. She built a red house with windows and doors that would open.
“My rocket ship can fly up to the moon,” I said. “When it blasts off, it might make a terrible noise that could break your house.”
“Please don’t break my house,” my friend said. “The mother is cooking blueberry pancakes, and all the children love blueberry pancakes. They would never get to eat them.”
“OK,” I said. “I’ll make something else, instead.”
I built a yellow backhoe with a long shovel tail. She built a little yard with trees and a white picket fence around her house.
“My backhoe could plow up a garden in your backyard,” I offered.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” she said. “Then birds could find more worms for their babies and we could plant flowers and vegetables.”
“All right!” I said. “I’ll build something else too.”
I built a blue robot holding a big purple box. She built a blue school with desks for children to sit at.
“My robot has a big box,” I said. “It has lots of books and paper and pencils in it.”
“Oh, could she teach in my school?” she asked. “The children want to learn to spell cat.”
“I can spell cat,” I said. “C-a-t.”
“I know,” she said. “All the children in my school need to learn to spell like you can, and to read and to count.”
“Good,” I said. “My robot will help teach in your school while I build something else.”
I built a dinosaur with orange eyes and a green nose and a gray tail. She built a pink candy store. It had real black licorice sticks and red lollipops inside.
“My dinosaur is very hungry,” I said. “It’s going to eat up all the candy in your store.”
“Please don’t let it do that,” she said. “Then there would be no lollipops for all the good children.”
“Am I a good children?” I asked.
“You are a very good child,” she said.
I changed my dinosaur into a tiny mouse, then ran to give my friend a giant hug. “May I have one of your lollipops, Grandma?”
And she gave me one.

President Spencer W. Kimball will celebrate his eighty-fourth birthday on March 28.
Last year he helped the town of Snowflake, Arizona, celebrate its 100th birthday. Everyone took care to make Snowflake shiny and clean. Primary children planted flowers in honor of his visit and made a carpet of flowers for him. Many other children in the area also came to see President Kimball.
He paid tribute to the pioneers and talked about Brigham Young who sent them to Arizona 100 years ago. “As the successor of the man who sent you here, I am proud of you,” he said. “I am pleased to be with you. Little did I think when I was on my milk stool as a boy in Thatcher, Arizona, that I would be here celebrating with you today.”
Happy birthday, President Kimball. We hope you live to be 100, too!

Nearly every week I attend a stake conference somewhere in the world, so I am not able to attend the Gospel Doctrine class in my ward where the Book of Mormon is being taught this year. It really pained me to miss this privilege of catching the spirit of this very sacred other testament that Jesus is the Christ. So my wife and I set a goal to study the Book of Mormon at home. We determined to finish the 1984 course of study for the Gospel Doctrine class before this April general conference. We began in January; and on Monday, March 12, we finished the last of the forty-six lessons of the Book of Mormon course. It really felt good to accomplish this goal.