Gospel Story Finder

One Sunday morning in a nursing home in the valley, I witnessed the presentation of a beautiful gift as a young girl shared her musical talent with those lonely and elderly men and women who yearned not for food or for clothing but for someone who cared, someone who shared, and someone who provided a “hyacinth” for the soul.
A hush fell over the wheelchair-confined audience as the girl took bow in hand and played on her violin a beautiful melody. At the conclusion, one patient audibly declared, “My dear, that was lovely.” Then she began to clap her hands to express approval. A second patient joined in clapping, then a third, a fourth, and soon everyone applauded.
Together the young girl and I walked out of the nursing home. She said to me, “I have never played better. I have never felt better.” She had been guided by God and led by the Lord. Aches, pains, despair, and sadness had been conquered. Compassion had gained the victory.

The Junior Thunder Lord Yue had been helped at school by the smartest boy there, who said, “Those at the top should help those at the bottom.” Yue remembered that when he was a successful businessman. He helped Bear Face, who appeared ugly and stupid and who was hungry. Then Bear Face helped both Yue and his people. A retelling of a seventeenth-century Chinese fable.Laurence Yep5–8 years

Such was Walter Stover of Salt Lake City. Born in Germany, Walter embraced the gospel message and came to America. He established his own business. He gave freely of his time and of his means.
Following World War II, Walter Stover was called to return to his native land. He directed the Church in that nation and blessed the lives of all whom he met and with whom he served. With his own funds, he constructed two chapels in Berlin—a beautiful city that had been so devastated by the conflict. He planned a gathering in Dresden for all the members of the Church from that nation and then chartered a train to bring them from all around the land so they could meet, partake of the sacrament, and bear witness of the goodness of God to them.
At the funeral service for Walter Stover, his son-in-law Thomas C. LeDuc said of him, “He had the ability to see Christ in every face he encountered, and he acted accordingly.”

Blow and bluster, do your worst!
Rattle windows till they burst.
Frost the air and make me shiver,
Freeze the current in the river.
Naught can chill my heart to stay;
There’s a hint of spring today.
Saw a crocus peeping through,
And a violet bud’s first blue.
Then I heard a robin call,
Pecking seeds from garden wall.
I don’t mind your blustering,
Now I know there will be spring.

“I play soccer,” says Sarah Dudley, 13. “Every Saturday he asks, ‘Did you win your game?’ If I say no, then he says, ‘Oh, that’s okay. There’s always another one.’ He’s really positive.”

I hadn’t driven down the Claytons’* long gravel driveway since I had graduated from high school almost 20 years before. Kerri Clayton and I had been best friends then. Now, knowing that we would both be in town to visit our families at Easter, we had arranged to get together at Kerri’s house.
As I walked to the door, I thought of the heavy burdens the Clayton family was bearing at this time. With three children, Kerri was going through a painful divorce. Her father had recently suffered a stroke, and her mother was struggling to care for her husband and meet the family’s financial obligations.
It’s too much pain for one family, I thought as I rang the doorbell.
Kerri opened the door and threw her arms around me. Though five years had passed since we’d seen each other, I immediately noticed the toll that my friend’s emotional traumas had taken on her. She was too thin, and I could sense desperation in her hug. In contrast with the smiling eyes of her girlhood portrait on the wall, my friend’s eyes were filled with pain.
Kerri’s mother came to greet me, and Kerri called her three beautiful children, two girls and a boy. I recognized their father’s features in each face and felt again the hurt and pain of the divorce. I wondered how the family would survive.
Kerri mentioned that her father was in an upstairs bedroom. I offered to go up to visit with him, but Kerri told me that he wanted to come down on his own. “It will take him some time, so let’s sit and visit,” she said.
We sat across from each other in the living room where we had often laughed together as schoolgirls. We did not laugh today. As Kerri told me about her struggles with finances and facing the future alone, I could only listen. She had so many questions, and I had no answers.
After a while, I heard a rustling on the stairs. I turned to watch Kerri’s father begin his shaky journey down. Grasping the handrail, he inched his feet forward on each stair. His wife stood beside him, but he refused her help. When he finally reached me, he grasped my hand and said, with effort, “So good to see you, Annette.”
After her parents went into the kitchen, Kerri asked, “Did you ever think life would be this hard? Did you ever think you’d be sitting here listening to my terrible divorce story and watching my dad suffer? Why do things like this happen?”
In the silence that followed, I could hear Kerri’s mother counting slowly in the kitchen as she exercised her husband’s arms and legs. Wondering what she felt as she cared for him, I began to cry.
“I’m sorry,” Kerri said. “Here you come home for Easter, and you get all this.”
“It’s okay,” I sniffled. “That’s what friends are for. I’m just trying to think of something to say that could give you some help, some hope.”
Just then, Kerri’s mother began to sing. Kerri and I stopped speaking and listened to her angelic voice coming from the kitchen. The hymn was perfect for that Easter weekend and perfect for that moment:
Christ the Lord is ris’n today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heav’ns, and earth reply, Alleluia!
(Hymns, 1985, number 200)
As she sang all the verses and her alleluias rang through the house, I thought about Christ’s suffering, his victory over death, and his resurrection. I felt light and hope replacing the day’s darkness and despair. I knew that this family was loved and watched over by the most tender of shepherds.
“You’re not alone,” I said gently to Kerri. “You are in Heavenly Father’s hands, and so is your father.”
“I know,” Kerri said. Our tears flowed freely as our hopes rose heavenward with the hymn.

“Mom, can I look for buried treasure?” Cindy asked.
Her mother looked up from the book she was reading and said, “Of course, but stay around the camp.”
“I will.” Cindy loved camping with her family and looking for buried treasure. She picked up a small shovel and a blue bag.
As she walked around the camp, she found a gray feather. “I wonder what bird lost this?” she said as she put it into her blue bag.
A few feet farther away, she saw something shiny sticking out of the dirt. With her shovel, she dug up a small stone. Cindy rolled the stone in her hands and said, “Jesus made this.” She put the stone into her blue bag with the feather.
Cindy noticed tiny purple flowers growing everywhere. She knew that she was not supposed to pick the flowers, so she got down on her knees and smelled their sweet fragrance.
Cindy walked some more. In a clump of tall grass, she spotted a baby rabbit and said, “I wonder where its mother is?” She didn’t put the baby rabbit into her bag, either.
Then she noticed something strange in the dirt. She began to dig. In seconds she dug up a rusty tin can. It wasn’t pretty like the other things she had found. She was going to bury it again, then remembered what her parents and Primary teachers had taught her about choosing the right. She knew that the right thing to do was to put it into her bag, take it back to camp, and throw it into the trash bag.
Cindy began to sing her favorite Primary song, “Choose the Right Way.”* As she sang, she continued to enjoy the treasures Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ had put all around her.

“Along in the early fall, we used to find wild fruit such as choke cherries, service berries and little red berries called buffalo or squaw berries, all of which we enjoyed very much. One day I decided to have a reception in the evening. So after we camped I asked some of the girls and boys to come and spend the evening at our camp fire after their chores were done. Verbal invitations and short notice never gave offense then. All were delighted to come, no one refused.
“In the meantime, I had asked mother to let me make some buffalo berry pies. Of course, she did. Pies were a great luxury and seldom seen on the plains. I wanted to surprise my guests with the sumptuousness of my refreshments. And I did. Well, I had hardly gotten the ox yokes and some other things artistically arranged before my company arrived, they did not come as late as seems to be customary now. After we had chatted a while and sung some songs, I excused myself to go into the pantry (a box under the wagon) and brought out my pies. In passing the pie, I rather apologetically remarked that they might not be quite sweet enough. One gallant young man spoke up very quickly, saying, ‘Oh anything would be sweet made by those hands.’ And I believed him.
“After serving the company, I joined them with my piece of pie. Well, the first mouthful, I ate and tasted as if it had been sweetened with citric acid! That ended my pie making on the plains. I often wondered how they could have eaten it, but etiquette demanded it. I don’t think there was enough sugar in the camp to have sweetened that pie.”

I have had close association with a man in business who is a beloved friend. We have occasionally discussed religion; and although he has not shown interest in joining the Church, he has investigated many religious philosophies, including the Methodist Church, reincarnation, certain aspects of spiritualism, Pentecostal groups, and Christian fellowship associations. I told him one day that I was sure he would someday join the Church.
When he inquired with a smile how I knew that, I responded, “Anyone who is looking as earnestly as you are will never be satisfied until he finds the full answer. But when you do join the Church, you will feel like you have come home and you won’t be searching anymore.”

Lucy also exercised faith and liberally drew upon the power of God to heal her from physical affliction. While living in Kirtland, Ohio, she made a concerted effort to study the Bible, Book of Mormon, and Doctrine and Covenants. Then, an accident occurred in her home, where she fell down the stairs face first and severely bruised her head. Her eyes became inflamed until she went blind. The ensuing distress Lucy endured for days was indescribable. Turning to priesthood power when medical remedies had failed, Lucy called upon elders to administer to her. Instead of asking for the restoration of her sight, Lucy asked for something better. She requested that the elders ask God to not only heal her eyes but ensure she would never have to use glasses again. After the elders administered to her and removed their hands from her head, Lucy read a passage in the Book of Mormon and never wore glasses again.7

If you had a smile like a crocodile
And were small as a pygmy shrew,
What in the world would you call yourself?
What in the world would you do?
Why that’s very easy, my dears, my dears—
I’d invent a name quite new,
And go about enjoying myself
As a beautiful crockoshrew.

Henry serves as a great ambassador of the Church. Wherever he competes, all around the world, he is known as a Latter-day Saint. “When I compete in Europe I always have missionaries come up to me at races. I represent the Church wherever I go as far as people identifying me as being Mormon. When I was on my way home from the Spartakiad in Russia I was talking to a Finnish man on the plane, and I gave him a Book of Mormon. A couple of years later I was at a BYU basketball game when a guy came up to me and said, ‘Are you Henry Marsh? I was a missionary in Finland and I taught a guy you gave a Book of Mormon to.’ It’s a small world.

Another Relief Society President, Sister Sun, Sung Pi Hung, of Nantun Ward, Taichung South Taiwan Stake, has shared, “After holding a ministering interview with a companionship of ministering sisters, I meditated for several days about some challenges facing one of the companionship’s assigned families. I then received inspiration to recommend to our bishop that the mother of the family be called as a Relief Society teacher.” Now that the mother has begun serving as a Relief Society teacher, her family has been blessed with more reconciliation with God. The sisters of the ward have also been blessed through her service as a teacher.

Several young women have had interesting experiences with their scripture reading. One Laurel from Provo, Utah, set a goal to read scriptures more regularly. She decided to visit her grandmother each week and read to her during the visit. The experience not only helped her with her scripture study; it helped her to develop a closeness to her grandmother.

“You got a dog?” he finally asked Steve.
“No.”
“Well, let me tell you something. You get yourself a dog before your wife gets too set in her ways.”
“You like dogs?” he asked Cathy.
“They’re okay.”
“They’re a lot better than okay,” the man said. “A dog’ll never let you down, never complains when you don’t get home on time.” Fumbling for his wallet, he pulled out a picture and handed it to Steve. “Ain’t she something? She’s real pretty, huh?”
“Yes,” Steve answered.
“She’s part German shepherd and part wolf. But you know what?” the man continued. “My wife hates that dog. It’s her own fault, too.”
He bent the empty can in two and tossed it into the already full wastepaper basket. He wiped his mouth and continued his story. “My wife’s got false teeth. When the dog was just a pup, my wife left the teeth on the kitchen table overnight. Well, you know how pups are when they’re young. When we got up next morning, there were pieces of false teeth all over the place. That pup chewed up my wife’s teeth! Ain’t that something?” He reared back in his chair, laughing crazily.
The laughing brought Oscar from the garage; he added some other details about how long it took to get another set of false teeth and how his friend’s wife wouldn’t go out in public until they came. That started them both laughing again.

Robby thought for a minute. He remembered the time the bishop came to his house when his mother was sick and couldn’t care for the family. After that, some ladies came by to help take care of his mother and his family. The bishop seemed really nice. “Yeah, I think he’s nice,” Robby said.

Kathy Solomon thought carefully about whom her gift subscription should go to and felt impressed to choose a girl who was suffering a great many problems in her life and was not very popular at school. “When I said, ‘I want to give you a gift subscription to the New Era,’ she just started crying right there. She couldn’t believe that anybody would want to give her a gift.” When the first issue arrived, the girl read it from cover to cover and came to school with a lot of questions about it.

In those days, the geographic area of the stake was huge, covering much of the southeast of Queensland around Brisbane — north to Nambour, south to the Gold Coast, and west to Toowoomba. In 1975, John was called as president of the Brisbane Australia Stake.
President Jeffrey noticed how far some members had to travel to get to church each week, so he took a map and drew an 8 km radius around each congregation. He then worked with Church physical facility authorities in Sydney to create branches in the areas lying within those circles. Those branches met in school halls until they were strong enough to qualify for a chapel. This meant that members didn’t have to drive as far to attend Church meetings. This direction paved the way for the future growth of membership in Queensland.

My mom gave a family home evening lesson on loving our enemies. She taught me and my brothers and sisters what it means to love those who “despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matt. 5:44).
I remembered that lesson the next day at school when I noticed that a bigger boy who was always trying to bully or tease me didn’t have a lunch. My sister had helped me pack a huge lunch the night before, and I had two sandwiches. So I took my extra sandwich and some other things in my lunch and offered them to the boy. I was happy that he took the extra food, and he seemed glad that I had offered it to him. He is not mean to me anymore, and I am much happier at school.
I am glad that I listened to the family home evening lesson. My mom and dad are, too. They said that they are proud of me for listening to the Spirit and doing a kind and brave thing even though it seemed a little scary.

I approached the doors to the church with one clear thought in my mind: “If I don’t find a friend at church today, I’m never coming back.” I had attended church with a friend a few times before, but this was the first time I attended as an investigator by myself and for myself. I felt I needed to join the Church, but I had several fears and concerns.
When I entered the church, I was greeted by a young adult with a big smile and a hearty handshake. He introduced himself as Dane McCartney. I had seen Dane before, when he had tried out for the college football team I played for. My anxiety vanished when he invited me to sit with him during the Church meetings. He also invited me to his parents’ home for dinner afterward. I never had a chance to feel alone that day. Dane and his family reached out to me and helped answer many of my questions. I joined the Church a few weeks later.
Had Dane just been friendly to me that day, I probably would have left church after sacrament meeting and given up, thinking that I had given it a shot but that church just wasn’t for me. While it’s certainly important to be friendly, being a friend involves more than just being nice. The McCartneys’ love and support was important to my conversion.