Gospel Story Finder

Illustrations by Scott Peck
So where are your video games?
Don’t have any.
What?! How can we play Monster Quest like we do at my house?
We can’t. Let’s go outside and look for real monsters instead.
Is this an arrowhead?
Maybe it’s a monster tooth!
Yikes! A bigfoot monster was here!
We can’t let the monster get us! Follow me to the creek!
We’re mud monsters!
RAWR!
Sea monsters!
Aaah!
That was even more fun than Monster Quest. Next time, let’s look for real monsters at my house too!

Elder Franklin D. Richards
“A very wise bishop called several young people into his office and said to them, ‘I would like you to help me in an experiment. I would like to prove the impact and influence of one member on the spirit of the family. For one month I would like each one of you to be the peacemaker in your home. Now don’t say anything about this to your family, but be thoughtful, kind, and considerate. Be an example. Where there is quarreling or bickering among members of your family, do whatever you can to overcome these faults by creating an atmosphere of love, harmony, and happiness.’
“It was a challenge for these young people, and they met the challenge in a wonderful way. When they reported back to the bishop, remarks such as these were made:
“One young fellow said, ‘I had no idea I would have so much influence in my home. It’s really been different this last month. I’ve been wondering if much of the turmoil and strife we used to have was caused by me and my attitudes.’
“A young lady said, ‘I guess we were just the normal family, with our selfishness causing little daily conflicts, but as I have worked with my brothers and sisters, a lot of this has been eliminated and there has been a much sweeter spirit in our home. I believe you really have to work at it to have the spirit of peace in your home.’”

We learn of the dedication which was given to the seminary program in its very beginning by reading from a diary of John M. Whitaker, one of the early instructors of the seminary program. In April of 1915 he was employed as an instructor in the Granite Seminary with a salary of $1,500 per year. He found little to work with as he assumed his new position. His diary records:
“I had to start without the least scratch, or outline, and I thought out many approaches to the new problem before me. I had taught several years at the University of Deseret. But there I knew my course well, but to commence a course now, where here-to-fore the Bible alone had been the guide, and to meet the need of the hour when students of the age coming into high school and junior work, with strict outlines and supervision, with everything before them and now coming from the discipline of high school requirements, into religion class work where they could come if they desired or remain away, … but to take religion which was frowned down upon during the week days, only for Sundays, was a task too great to undertake alone. So I did as I have always done when presented with a task, went in humility and prayer to my Father in Heaven and in my simplicity told him my problem and asked for inspiration, guidance, wisdom and courage for the task before me. … I was unknown to most of the Faculty and students of the Granite High and so during the summer I thought out how best to make a beginning.”
He became enthusiastic about the beginning of the year in teaching at Granite High School and looked forward to registration day, on September 3, 1915. A crowd of students was on hand, and his journal entry describes the event: “Commenced a very important period of my life and one that will, I am sure affect the destiny of thousands of the youth of Zion, if the plans maturing in my mind blossom into fruition” (quoted in Lyman Clarence Pedersen Jr., “John Mills Whitaker: Diarist, Educator, Churchman” [master’s thesis, University of Utah, 1960], 167).
His diary records events step-by-step which led to the tremendous success he had in carrying forward this program over the years. Significant is the statement of the late S. Dilworth Young, one of the Seventy, who was one of Brother Whitaker’s earliest seminary students: “Had Elder A. Theodore Tuttle been clairvoyant, he would have seen in the year 1914 a fourteen-and-a-half-year-old stripling entering the first seminary instituted by the Church. Across the street from Granite High School a building had been constructed—one room in size—a teacher employed, and the school opened to students. I was that stripling. There died yesterday the third teacher of that particular seminary. The teacher was John M. Whitaker.
“I should like to make a short tribute to Brother Whitaker. He likely did not know the profound influence he had upon me as a boy, as I studied minutely under him and Guy C. Wilson before him, the detail of the Bible, the Book of Mormon, and the Doctrine and Covenants. I look back upon it now, realizing that there was where I got my first detailed knowledge of these standard works. Could I have enough influence I would see to it that every boy and every girl in the Church had a like experience under a man of faith” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1960, 80).

One day, after we had reached the Coppermine, we were paddling on the river during a blizzard. It was the end of July and the snow was flying! The current was powerful, but the headwind was so strong we were struggling for progress. Bob said, “Dad, look at the shore.” I did. We were standing still. And when we stopped paddling, the wind blew us upstream! So we stopped and pulled over and gathered what wood we could for a fire to warm our hands.
We were resting there when we saw a herd of caribou coming directly toward us. They looked spooked, but I was sure they’d follow their established trail. They did and swam across the river. Right behind them was a pack of wolves. As the herd came out of the water, there were two old cows lagging behind. A second set of wolves, waiting on the far shore, renewed the pursuit, and soon dragged down a victim. Had we not stopped to warm our hands, we would have missed this spectacle of life and death.

Dewdrops hung on the tips of the long grass blades. Pam smiled as she made her way across the damp lawn. She loved early mornings in the country.
Stillness hung in the air. It was spring magic. She breathed in the sweet scent of lilacs. Everything was perfect.
One long, lonely howl filled the air.
“I’m coming, Lady,” Pam called, filling a bucket with water. She stepped inside the dog run and was immediately greeted by a wet tongue and happy barks. Trying to avoid Lady’s kisses, she filled the water bowl.
Suddenly, Lady ran to the gate of the dog run and barked.
Pam turned to see her best friend, Chuck, walking across the lawn.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re up early.” He reached over the fence to pet Lady. “My family’s going to an amusement park for the day, and Mom said we each could invite a friend. Do you want to go?”
Pam’s face lit up, but her smile soon faded. “I can’t. I promised Mom I’d watch my little brothers while she and Dad paint Grandma’s house.”
“Can’t someone else watch your brothers?”
She set the bucket down. “No.”
Chuck rubbed his chin. “Maybe your mom and dad could take them over to your grandma’s. Or maybe your grandma could watch them here.”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise for Grandma’s birthday,” Pam explained. “Dad took the day off from work so they could finish painting while Grandma’s staying with my sick aunt.”
“Oh.” Chuck’s smile disappeared. “I know it’s been a few years since you went to the amusement park. I thought it was a good idea.”
A sad smile crossed Pam’s face as she thought about the deep-red candy apples she loved, but wouldn’t be eating today. “It was a good idea. Thanks for inviting me.”
As Chuck said good-bye, Pam felt sad. No one had ever invited her to an amusement park before.
It was hard keeping her brothers happy all day long. They played with the dog. They rode bikes. They drew on the sidewalk with chalk. When her brothers grew tired, she put a blanket on the grass and read them the story of Noah’s ark.
Mom came home in time to put the boys to bed. Pam had never been happier to see her mom. Her brothers were a lot of work.
Glad for some quiet, Pam pulled a lawn chair off the porch and dragged it out onto the grass so she could sit under the stars. Fireflies swirled like sparks over the grass, flower beds, and trees.
“Hey there,” Chuck called from across the street.
“Hey, yourself,” Pam called back. “Did you get sunburned?”
Chuck laughed. “Yes, I did. It was awful. The lines were long, my favorite ride broke down, and the hot dog I ate was burnt. You didn’t miss much.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“Maybe.” Chuck stepped into the dim light from the porch. “I thought you might be hungry.” Chuck pulled two deep-red candy apples from behind his back.
Pam’s eyes lit up. “Oh my! Those look great.”
Chuck grinned. “I’ll share, if you tell me why your family is so important.”
Pam knew what Chuck wanted to talk about. He wanted to hear more about the gospel and her belief in an eternal family.
He handed her one of the mouth-watering apples and then sat in the grass to listen while he munched on his own apple.
Somehow she had to help him understand that an eternal family was even more important to her than good friends and candy apples.

As Easter time approaches, let me share with you the tender story of an eleven-year-old boy named Philip, a Down’s syndrome child who was in a Sunday School class with eight other children.
Easter Sunday the teacher brought an empty plastic egg for each child. They were instructed to go out of the church building onto the grounds and put into the egg something that would remind them of the meaning of Easter.
All returned joyfully. As each egg was opened there were exclamations of delight at a butterfly, a twig, a flower, a blade of grass. Then the last egg was opened. It was Philip’s, and it was empty!
Some of the children made fun of Philip. “But, teacher,” he said, “teacher, the tomb was empty.”
A newspaper article announcing Philip’s death a few months later noted that at the conclusion of the funeral eight children marched forward and put a large empty egg on the small casket. On it was a banner that said, “The tomb was empty.”

Now I want to tell you about Samantha. Samantha had just started work in the administrative offices of a local university. She was excited to work in a stimulating environment full of diverse thoughts, ideas, and backgrounds. One day at work a co-worker approached Samantha, said she had heard that Samantha was a Mormon, and asked if that was true. Samantha cheerfully responded that it was, but the question that followed surprised her.

“So why do you hate gays?” her co-worker asked. Samantha was surprised by the question but tried to explain her belief in God and God’s plan for His children, which she said includes guidelines on moral and sexual behavior. Her co-worker countered by telling her that the rest of society had progressed beyond those beliefs. “And besides,” she said, “history is full of people using religious teachings to wage wars and marginalize vulnerable groups.”

Samantha restated her convictions and her understanding of God’s love for all people and then asked her co-worker to respect her right to believe. The co-worker felt compelled to tell other employees about their conversation, and over the next few weeks, Samantha felt increasingly isolated as more and more co-workers confronted her with questions and attacks.

Samantha’s boss, seeing the increase in religious conversations in the workplace, cautioned Samantha that proselytizing in their work environment would put her job in jeopardy. Her work, like Ethan’s, began to suffer. Rather than risk being fired, Samantha started to look for another job.

Now, these are hypothetical stories, and yet they are not. There are many Samanthas and Ethans. However we choose to live and whatever choices we make, we all share a common humanity and desire for fairness and kindness. Ethan should not have been fired for being gay, and Samantha should not have been intimidated for being religious. Both were wrongly criticized, judged, and retaliated against.

When an LDS classmate invited Horváth Attila, 16, to sacrament meeting, Attila liked what he saw.

“Then, when my friend told me the Church was very family-centered, I became even more interested.”

Within weeks, Attila was baptized.

Three months later, his father asked to hear the discussions. “I knew enough about the Church by that time,” says Attila, “that I could help my father learn about it. The knowledge I had received in seminary helped me explain the scriptures to him. But since he smoked and drank coffee a lot, I didn’t have the faith that he would be baptized. I was amazed when I saw how—with the help of our Heavenly Father—he was able to rid those things from his life. Two months later, I baptized my father!

“Then when my mother saw how happy my father and I were in the Church, she also started to be interested. I baptized her three months after baptizing my father! The next day, my whole family came to church and bore their testimonies. It’s not possible to describe what kind of feeling it was for me.”

I love to dance, and since I live in a small town, my mom drives me to Weatherford, Texas, every Thursday to take jazz and tap lessons, and on Friday for ballet.
I have moved up to Level 2, which means I have a different teacher on Thursday. We’ve been working on a dance for a competition. We compete for a trophy.
We had learned half the dance, when the teacher put it to music. The music wasn’t the best choice, and one girl dropped out because her mom didn’t like it. Then we learned some more steps. One day at an extra practice, the teacher asked me, “Have you seen the costume yet?” When I saw the picture of it, I knew that I wasn’t going to wear it.
When my mom (who hadn’t seen the costume) and I were home, we talked about it. We decided that it was too immodest. She called the studio the next day to tell them that I would not be participating in the dance. I hope that my decision helped the other dancers choose the right.
Christy Abraham, age 9Azle, Texas

Many years ago, 11-year-old Cori sat in front of the television listening to general conference. When she was younger, she drew pictures, but today she was listening closely for the things the prophet wanted her to do. President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) asked everyone to read the scriptures, go to the temple, spend more time with their families on Sunday, and have family home evening. Cori knew that if she followed the prophet, she could help make her family stronger. Today Cori knows that following the prophet’s counsel increased her family’s love for one another and for Jesus Christ.

When Scouting becomes a family affair, good things happen. At a Court of Honor held recently in Hurricane, Utah, three brothers received their Eagle award—Deward, 18, Keith, 15, and Ronald Stout, 14. Their older brother, Dennis, is also an Eagle Scout. All are active in their priesthood quorums.
According to Scouting officials, the odds against four Eagles in one family are 52,000 to 1.
When the new Scouting program was introduced, Ronald was an 11-year-old Tenderfoot. He made up his mind then to become an Eagle. His enthusiasm was catching, and his brothers Deward and Keith began to work with him toward the same goal.
“We had a lot of fun earning those 24 merit badges,” says Ronald. “One thing I like about it is the happy memories we can look back on. Now my goal is to see how many more merit badges I can earn before I’m 18.”

In September I was invited to give a talk about my conversion at Stake Conference. I was so nervous, but I knew that I had the Holy Spirit with me and I knew that what I was about to say was true. At university I studied Egyptology and Ancient History, and the knowledge I acquired has helped to strengthen my testimony regarding the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have been able to find many links between the Book of Mormon and the civilisation of ancient Egypt.

On the day of my baptism I was nervous – not about the decision that I had made to become a member of the church, nor about my belief in our Saviour Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon – but because I was worried about being fully immersed in water. However, I should not have worried. I cannot adequately describe the feeling I felt as I was immersed and raised out of the font feeling clean, fresh, pure and rebuilt. As I was confirmed I could feel the Holy Spirit at work. I had a tingling sensation down my spine, I felt calm, strong, and galvanised. I still feel the Holy Spirit with me, especially when I study the scriptures and pray to Heavenly Father. When the Holy Spirit is near I feel goosebumps on my arms and legs, and this sensation gives me comfort, and I know that I will never be alone.

My life has changed dramatically since my baptism. I continued with my weekly lessons with the missionaries to help further my knowledge and understanding of the Book of Mormon. I have spoken publicly regarding my testimony and I have written an article for the Liahona.
I love going to sacrament meetings every week, I have joined the choir and I defy anyone not to leave a Sunday service with a big smile across their face and a feeling of empowerment for the week ahead. I have repaired the relationships within my biological family, but I have also gained a new ‘church family’ and I have a genuine love for the brothers and sisters in my ward.
I am a much happier and far less stressed person since becoming a member of the Church. Everyone has noticed and commented on it, and I am so happy that my husband decided to be baptised too. I look forward to our future – serving in the church, participating in ordinances, attending the temple, and being sealed to my husband for all eternity.
The gospel has transformed my life and for the first time in a long time I am hopeful and excited to see what Heavenly Father has planned for me.

One preparation day, my missionary companion and I were visiting a cathedral in Parma, Italy. While marveling at the beautiful paintings there, I noticed a monk reading nearby. I received a prompting to talk to him about the Book of Mormon, but I became afraid.
How would a Catholic monk react to a missionary proselyting inside a cathedral? The prompting came again, but again I dismissed it.
A few weeks later, the other two elders in our apartment told us they had visited with a monk named Giuseppe while street contacting. After they had taught him a lesson, he accepted a copy of the Book of Mormon.
When the missionaries met with Giuseppe a week later, he had already read much of the book. He was very excited about it.
Before the missionaries met with Giuseppe again, my companion was transferred, so I joined their companionship. When we went to teach Giuseppe in the cathedral, I was not surprised to see that he was the same monk I was prompted to talk to earlier.
Giuseppe told us he was reading the book of Alma, whom he compared to the Apostle Paul. We decided to teach him the second lesson, which ended with an invitation to be baptized. At the end of our lesson, just before we could invite Giuseppe to follow the example of Jesus Christ by being baptized, the cathedral bells began ringing, startling us.
Giuseppe had lost track of time and said he needed to join the other monks for midday prayers. Then he apologized, saying he would be unavailable in the future because he was going to a monastic retreat. His ordination as a priest would follow.
We were surprised at how that significant moment had just evaporated. Had I responded to my earlier prompting, we would have had more time to teach Giuseppe and he would have had time to finish reading the Book of Mormon. As far as I know, missionaries never taught him again.
After that experience, the sound of clock-tower bells reminded me how valuable and short our time is. For the rest of my mission, every time I heard a bell tower ring, I was motivated to speak to anyone I could about the gospel. Today, I still strive to follow promptings from the Spirit.

It’s been just over a year now since my parents and I joined the Church, and it hasn’t been easy.
We were taught by two of the finest missionaries and gained a strong testimony. But when we decided to be baptized, people told us we would be lost and end up in hell. We were told we were no good. We received a great deal of persecution.
I lost all the friends I had at my old church, which I’d been attending for 11 years. I had done a lot of baby-sitting and when I changed churches, the people who I used to baby-sit for told me that I would never watch their children again, that I was a bad influence, and that they never wanted me in their home again. They said if I ever worked in a day-care center where their children were, they’d take them out.
That all hurt me very badly. I was harassed at school, and when I came home, there would be pamphlets in my mailbox and phone calls and people pushing their way into my home. My father even received death threats, saying that if we went through with the baptism, he would die.
The death threats almost postponed our baptism. When he received one the day we were to be baptized, he nearly canceled the baptism. But we went through with it.
And you know what? I’m really glad we did.
I told my mom that I didn’t care if I lost all my friends. Yes, it hurt a great deal, but I knew that Jesus Christ had died for my sins. He had been beaten, spit on, and stabbed, and had had thorns put on his head. My troubles didn’t seem so bad in comparison.
I still get criticism about joining the Church, but Jesus Christ has helped me pull through. I have my baby-sitting jobs back, and Dad has not received any more death threats. I have found truly beautiful new friends in my ward, where there is a great deal of love, friendship, and caring. I would go through all the hardships again and face even more. I thank Heavenly Father so very much for bringing me into the true Church.

For example, drinking, especially at weekend parties, was a big problem for their peers, so some of the LDS students started throwing their own parties and inviting everyone, as long as they followed the house rules.

“Dad announces the rules at our house,” says Priscilla Packard. “No tobacco; no alcohol; you have to be 14 to attend the party; no pairing off in the corners; and absolutely nobody outside in the cars. Then we dance, and talk, play games, and have contests to see who can do the most back flips in a row. One guy from school who had never been to one of our parties before said, ‘Wow, there’s no alcohol here, and I’m still having fun.’” The parties given by the LDS students are popular with everyone because it isn’t just the same old thing.

I always look forward to the priesthood blessings my dad gives us before the school year because they give me strength and peace for the year ahead. I remember being scared when I was going into middle school for the first time because we had just moved. In my blessing I was promised that if I chose the right and was kind to everyone around me, the Lord would watch over me and bless me.
That year I tried to reach out to others and choose the right. I began reading the Book of Mormon, and throughout the year I was filled with peace. I knew the Lord was keeping His promise because I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. At the end of the school year I knew it had been a hard year, but I had tried my best, and the Lord had kept his promise.
I am so thankful I have a dad who can give me priesthood blessings. Those blessings have strengthened my testimony because I have been able to feel and see them working in my life. Knowing that the Lord is able to work through my dad to speak and help me has strengthened my relationship with my Heavenly Father and my earthly father.

On Easter Sunday some years ago, my four-year-old son Ben came down the hallway of our meetinghouse after Primary, happily waving the paper he had colored. He called out with pure excitement, “Mom, Mom, have you heard about the Resurrection?” He wanted to make sure I had heard the good news. Something his Primary teacher had said really touched Ben’s heart so that he joyfully began to understand the Resurrection. How nice it would be for all of us to feel that same joy every Easter!

The large, three-story building did not seem very promising. Nevertheless, Elder Brian McGavin stepped up and knocked on the drab, red double doors. While tracting, he had learned to be very thorough. Almost immediately he and his companion, Elder David Birrell, were greeted by a cheerful young student and ushered into a guest room. They had discovered the Po Ai orphanage.
Although the elders’ apartment in Taipei, Taiwan, was near the orphanage, they had never before found it among the winding streets, crowded with brick huts and foliage. The facilities of the orphanage were scant—two large bedrooms crammed with bunk beds, a kitchen, classroom, and the guest room.
The director of the orphanage, Mrs. Wu Mei-hen, entered the room with several members of her staff and listened politely to the missionaries’ message. After a short “What now?” pause, the missionaries began explaining the Family Home Evening Program.
Mrs. Wu and her staff responded with unexpected enthusiasm, and the next Monday was set for a trial family home evening.
How do you hold a family home evening for 30 orphans, ranging in age from 2 to 18? The elders weren’t quite sure, but they forged ahead anyway. The children were all given name tags and a short lesson was delivered. Just before the closing prayer everyone sang “There Is Beauty All Around” in Mandarin. Soon the evenings at the orphanage became a district project, and other missionaries helped with the Monday family home evenings.
After one of these evenings Elder McGavin wrote his mother about the success they were having teaching the children about the Church in spite of the poor conditions of the orphanage. Sister McGavin, the Laurel adviser in the Holladay 24th Ward, Salt Lake City, happened to be with some of her girls when she read the letter from her son. Immediately they began discussing ways they could help the Po Ai orphans.
After talking with the Explorers, the Laurels planned a bake sale to raise money for shoes and desks for the orphanage. The girls went to work baking cakes, pies, and cookies, while the Explorers put together a band to provide entertainment for the sale.
By coincidence a member of the ward, Sister Ann Burchett, was planning a trip to Taiwan. She was quickly drafted by the youth to present the money they had earned to the orphanage.
The day Sister Burchett arrived at the orphanage, the students planned a special family home evening. They greeted Sister Burchett by singing “There ls Beauty All Around” and presented other skits and songs. Mrs. Wu accepted the money from Sister Burchett and announced it would be taken directly to a carpenter so desks could be built.
A local newspaper, the China Post, wrote an article about the family home evenings, the efforts of the young people in Salt Lake, and the visit of Sister Burchett to the orphanage. The article quoted Confucius, “There is nothing to compare with the happiness of welcoming a friend from afar.” Because of their concern the LDS youth from Holladay were indeed friends from afar.

A rest home may not seem like the best place to go for a night of fun and action, but the young men and the young women of the Spokane Third Ward, Spokane Washington North Stake, found that with lots of enthusiasm and a great attitude, almost any place can be fun.
The youth donated items from home that were no longer in use (planter boxes, games, etc.), and then took them to a local rest home to “auction” to the residents there. Each youth was paired with a resident and given play money to “buy” items with.
“I wasn’t sure I would like this, but it was really fun,” says deacon Luke Shaw.
The youth enjoyed the activity so much, they are considering going once, going twice, going three times a year!

In late December a chill mist shrouds the bare vines in the predawn darkness. The vineyard is silent except for one section, which is filled with voices and a bright, crackling bonfire. It is Christmas morning, and elsewhere in this valley, people are still warm in their beds or gathered around Christmas trees watching excited children. But not the small group in the vineyard. They have come to give a gift.
To understand the meaning of the gift, you must know that this vineyard in Madera, California, USA, is part of the Church’s welfare production system. Each year it produces about 400,000 pounds (180,000 kg) of raisins. Half of the harvest goes to the shelves of bishops’ storehouses. The rest is used for humanitarian response around the world. Wards and branches from eight stakes are assigned certain tasks to complete and rows of vines to care for.
One crucial task is pruning the vines. The tangle of the past season’s growth must be cut out, leaving just the few canes that will grow to produce the next harvest. Without this dormant-season pruning, the vineyard becomes overgrown. Too many vines overwhelm the roots’ ability to sustain them. Too little fruit is produced, and the harvest is greatly diminished.
Why do this work on Christmas day? Because many of the ward members are fieldworkers by trade, pruning vineyards and orchards for their livelihood. Their work is intensive at this time of year, so this is the only day they have off in several weeks. It’s Christmas—and they spend it here in the Church’s vineyard. In fact, they have come here 8 of the past 15 Christmases. For these members of the Spanish-speaking Madera Third Ward, it is their gift to El Niño—to the Christ child.
One worker, Miguel Chavez, explains that it’s a way of giving something back for all of the blessings they receive from the Lord: “We are giving something to needy families. Our small contribution becomes a great blessing to other people.” Another ward member says simply, “This is the best work we can do because this is God’s vineyard.”
And so, on this particular Christmas day, once these members of the Madera Third Ward finish pruning, wrapping, and tying their assigned vines, they finish parts of two neighboring wards’ rows. It is a gift fit for a King.