Gospel Story Finder

Windows teach lessons never to be forgotten. Ever shall I remember a visit to the home of President Hugh B. Brown. It was graduation day at Brigham Young University. He was to conduct the exercises, and I was to deliver the commencement address. I drove to President Brown’s home and escorted him to my car. Before we could drive away, however, he said to me, “Wait just a few minutes. My wife, Zina, will come to the front window.”

I glanced at the window, noted that the curtain had parted, and saw Zina Brown sitting in her wheelchair, affectionately waving a small, white handkerchief toward the gaze of her smiling husband. President Brown reached into his jacket pocket, retrieved a white handkerchief, and began to wave it gently, much to the delight of his wife. We then inched away from the curb and commenced the journey to Provo.

“What is the significance of the white-handkerchief waving?” I asked.

He replied, “Zina and I have followed that custom since we were first married. It is somewhat a symbol between us that all will be well throughout the day until we are again together at eventide.”

That day, I witnessed a window to the heart.

The other girls see Aija as a leader—not because of her age, but because of the example she sets. “You tend to want to hang out with your own friends, but in this group we look out for each other.”
Now she sings in the ward choir with her friends and her whole family.

Bishop Brown’s relationship with his family is one of respect and love, of understood meanings, and of honest and helpful criticism. Joanne, Bishop Brown’s oldest daughter, remembers that when she went to BYU there was a lesson given in her student ward about loving your parents, and the counsel was given to the new students at BYU to write their parents and tell them of their love for them. Joanne said, “In our home we didn’t say I love you, we just loved each other.” But Joanne followed instructions and wrote her father and mother telling them how much she really did love them. When Bishop Brown received that letter he called his daughter immediately. Joanne says she will always remember how touched and grateful her father was for her expression of love to him.

Desperate yet undaunted, Father continued to attend the temple daily. As I stood at the window and watched him leave for the temple early one morning, I remembered a day many years earlier, when my little brother was thrown from a horse. Thinking he had suffered only a little bruising and a bloody nose, I was devastated when he died late that night. My world caved in, and for months I mulled over the painful question, Why hadn’t Heavenly Father sent a miracle to save my brother’s life?

Several years later, I volunteered for service in the United States Marine Corps. At the beginning of basic training, I found myself standing at attention in front of my barrack’s bunk along with 54 other Marine Corps recruits. I met my drill instructor, a battle-hardened veteran, when he kicked open the door to the barracks and entered while screaming words laced with profanity.
After this terrifying introduction, he started at one end of the barracks and confronted each recruit with questions. Without exception, the drill instructor found something about each recruit to ridicule with loud, vulgar language. Down the row he came, with each marine shouting back his answer as commanded: “Yes” or “No, Sergeant Instructor.” I could not see exactly what he was doing, because we had been ordered to stand at attention with our eyes looking straight ahead. When it was my turn, I could tell he grabbed my duffel bag and emptied the contents onto my mattress behind me. He looked through my belongings, then walked back to face me. I braced myself for his attack. In his hand was my Book of Mormon. I expected that he would yell at me; instead, he moved close to me and whispered, “Are you a Mormon?”
As commanded, I yelled, “Yes, Sergeant Instructor.”
Again I expected the worst. Instead, he paused and raised his hand that held my Book of Mormon and in a very quiet voice said, “Do you believe in this book?”
Again I shouted, “Yes, Sergeant Instructor.”
At this point I was sure he would scream disparaging words about Mormons and the Book of Mormon, but he just stood there in silence. After a moment he walked back to my bunk and carefully laid down my Book of Mormon. He then walked by me and went on to ridicule and disparage all the remaining recruits. I have often wondered why that tough drill instructor spared me that day. But I am grateful I was able to say without hesitation, “Yes, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” and “Yes, I know the Book of Mormon is true.” My testimony of the special messages found in the Book of Mormon is a precious gift given to me through the Holy Ghost.

Before long, he could shower and dress himself, drive his car, and negotiate his way anywhere. In fact, after his doctor said it was impossible, David learned to strap on a brace he calls his exoskeleton and walk, using crutches extending from his hands, by moving his shoulders to push his body forward. With no sense of balance or ability to feel the ground under him, this is an incredible feat—one for which the students and parents honored him with a standing ovation at high school graduation exercises.

Standing as a witness for the truth of the gospel and the Church can be a challenge. I once felt forced into a situation that was against Heavenly Father’s commandments. I now know why teenagers’ dating relationships should be kept on a just-friends basis.
There was a young man I cared about very much, but he felt that the ways of the world were more important than God’s ways. I was faced with the statement, “If you love me, you’ll do it.” How cold. How cruel. How different that trap of Satan sounds when compared to the statement of One who really loves us: “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15).
So, like Joseph of old, I ran away from the situation, never to return (see Gen. 39:7–13). Even though I know I contributed to that situation, I am so thankful I decided to stand as a witness for what I know is right, true, and good.

Following his election to Parliament in 2011, Dr. Patrick Chikusu served as Zambia’s deputy minister of health until his death in 2013. His ethics and high standards made an immediate impact in the government. For example, he returned any unused money after completing travel assignments. He requested women working in his office wear modest, professional office attire. He soon noticed women in the other offices in the ministry had adopted similar dress standards. Sister Chikusu said people appreciated her husband’s honesty and good example.

When they reached Nauvoo, Orson Spencer directed them to the home of the Prophet. Joseph and Emma Smith welcomed them, inviting the Mannings to stay at the Mansion House until they found homes. Eventually all the members of the Manning family found jobs except Jane. The Prophet and his wife urged her to stay with them.

Jane did stay for several months. When the Prophet was martyred, Jane grieved for him, saying, he was “the finest man I ever saw on earth.”

The young men and young women in Welland, Ontario, Canada, get excited about seminary. Winters in Welland are long and harsh, and during the greater part of the school year, going to seminary means a trek to the church in the dark and cold. Of course, teenagers in Welland are no different than teenagers anywhere else. Getting enough sleep is a paramount concern—something that can be a bit of a challenge when you get up for an early-morning class. But a few years ago, the Welland seminary students had a teacher who changed their lives, and their mumbling and grumbling about the early hour seemed to shrink, while their excitement about seminary seemed to grow.
Despite the fact that he had been ill with cystic fibrosis all his life, their teacher, Brother Ron Cunningham, wouldn’t have traded his calling as a seminary teacher for anything. In terms of his health, some days were better than others. But every day he taught seminary, he said, was a good day.
“He was our friend,” says James Burton, 17. “We all had such a good time, even though he was sick. He had such a great sense of humor, even about things that made him look silly. Sometimes, especially at the beginning of class before everyone was fully awake, he would fall asleep—while he was teaching.”
Because cystic fibrosis fills the lungs with fluid, breathing is difficult, causing extreme fatigue. Consequently, it seems that just about everyone has a favorite “Brother Cunningham fell asleep” story.
There were other ways he filled the seminary with laughter and fun, too. There were games and contests for scripture mastery, treats and stories to make lessons easier to understand.
“One year, Brother Cunningham brought an entire set of army men for us to use to reenact battles from the scriptures,” says Craig Dumoulin. “At first we thought it was crazy since none of us have played with toys like that since we were little, but it really did make it easier to understand. And it was a lot of fun.”
But Brother Cunningham taught his students much more than how to have a sense of humor. Make no mistake, the gospel was his life, and he wanted to help his students feel the same way.
“Because of his illness, he was pretty small physically,” says Matthew Glanfield, 18. “But I have never known such a spiritual giant.”
It was that spirit, that great feeling, that kept the students excited and happy about getting up before dawn to study. Even in the Toronto area’s brutal and icy winter. Even during exams when time was scarce. Even when it would have been easier to stay in bed and catch a few more minutes of sleep. Everyone knew that no matter how hard it was for them to get out of bed in the morning, it was harder for their teacher. If he could do it, they knew they could too.
The young men in the ward seemed especially responsive to his style of teaching. Although he didn’t fit the stereotype of macho strength and he was unable to participate in many athletic activities, the young men all say that he was exactly the kind of man—an honorable priesthood holder who was married in the temple—that they all aspire to be.
“There were a lot of things he couldn’t do, but he worked hard at the things he could do,” says Matthew. “He always told us that it was his number one wish for us to go on missions and be great missionaries. He couldn’t go on a mission because of his health, but he could contribute to the missionary effort by training others to share the gospel.”

The Salas Family: Second-Generation Leaders. Alfredo Salas, president of the Buenos Aires West stake, is an example of what is happening today in Argentina as a result of parents who have sacrificed old ways to adopt the vision of their new faith. “My parents joined the Church when I was 11,” says President Salas. “I grew up attending a little branch in Bahía Blanca.” When the seminary program was introduced, he wanted to attend, but his parents, already sacrificing to send him to school, were concerned it would interfere with his studies. To alleviate their concerns, he and his brother studied extra hard. To go to seminary, they would get up at 5:00 A.M. and run several blocks to catch a bus. After the bus ride, they ran eight blocks to the chapel. Then, to arrive at school on time, they ran the eight blocks back to the bus, which carried them back to their neighborhood, and then ran all the way to school. “This sacrifice cemented my testimony,” he reflects.

With the backing of his parents, a mission followed, which greatly deepened his testimony. When he returned, he faced a new dilemma because of his limited finances: whether to finish his schooling or get married. The choice was not easy. Nevertheless, he chose to marry, and it took seven more years before he finally received his degree in computer science. At age 26 he was called as a bishop and served in that calling during the final two years of his schooling. He subsequently went on to earn a master’s degree in business administration. As a result of his parents’ emphasis on learning, today President Salas is doing well as country manager of a computer programming company, and he is able to devote time to Church service.

Nick Robinson knew the deal. Go with his all-star team, the Children’s Mercy Hospital 76ers, to Orlando, Florida, for the Junior Boys’ National Amateur Athletic Union Championship and let college coaches drool over him. In addition, with Disney World hosting the event, it wouldn’t be difficult to have fun when he wasn’t playing basketball.
After all, this was the national high school boys’ tournament. In high school basketball circles, anybody who is anybody plays in this.
And what’s not to like? You play hoops all day against the country’s best high school players, many who will eventually play the game for a living. Meanwhile, sitting in the bleachers are college coaches—famous guys you’ve watched on TV—who have contacted you about possibly playing for them. They’re there to watch you.
Heady times for 16-, 17-, and 18-year-old kids.
Especially for Nick Robinson from Liberty, Missouri, who can shoot, post up, and create his shot off the dribble. His 76ers, a team made up of the Kansas City area’s best high school players, earned a spot in the prestigious tourney with their second-place finish in the local AAU tournament. Now it was time to see how they measured up against the nation’s best players and teams—all expenses paid.
As Nick sat in the chartered bus as it rolled along, he was excited. He was with his friends, the weather was beautiful, school was out. Life was good. As the bus came to a stop, Nick unfolded his 6-foot-5 frame from his seat and stepped from the bus with the rest of the kids, happy to be in … Nauvoo, Illinois?
You don’t have to be Rand or McNally to know that Nauvoo is a long way from Orlando. Nauvoo does not have any amusement parks, and when you think of Nauvoo, basketball doesn’t usually leap to mind.
Ah, but Nauvoo had one thing Orlando didn’t: the Liberty Missouri Stake’s youth conference.
“I knew the team would go to Orlando sometime in July and I was excited. For a couple of weeks I didn’t realize youth conference was at the same time as the tournament,” recalls Nick. “All of a sudden I was saying, ‘Mom, both things are on the same date.’”
To complicate matters, following the Orlando tourney, the 76ers planned to play in additional tournaments in Augusta, Georgia, and Las Vegas, Nevada. It would be three straight weeks of basketball. It was then that Nick realized Especially For Youth, scheduled at the University of Kansas in Lawrence, would conflict with the other two hoop tournaments.
“I knew if I were to go to Orlando I’d be traveling for three weeks. I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to spend three weeks traveling all over the country. I didn’t want to be away from my family that long,” he says. Nick’s six younger sisters felt the same way.
“So I thought about it, I talked with Mom and I talked with Dad, then I prayed about it. I decided that it would be better if I went to youth conference and EFY instead.”
Some people might call his decision a gamble. After all, this was a college scholarship he was talking about. Orlando was where coaches evaluated players. How players played at this tournament often determined if a scholarship would be offered. Nick knew he was a good player. But he also knew getting a scholarship was no slam dunk.
Nick, though, thought about how his coach concluded practice each day. He’d ask his players questions then answer them. “What’s the number-one important thing? God. Number two? Family. Number three? School. Number four? You.”
“That’s the order his list went in,” Nick explains. “He knew if I needed to do something for Heavenly Father, then that was more important than playing basketball. My teammates understood my decision. And I knew I had to be patient and realize that even if I wasn’t seen by college recruiters, Heavenly Father would bless me.”
Once he decided to attend youth conference, Nick didn’t look back on what he was missing in Florida. Not until after he returned did he find out how the 76ers had done. He had other things on his mind. At youth conference in Nauvoo, Nick and the rest of the young men and women separated into “families” of two “parents” and five or six “children” for the different activities, which included a devotional near Parley Street, a visit to the temple site, and a fireside. In Nick’s “family,” he was one of the “sons.”
“You felt the Spirit there. It was wonderful and I had a great time. It was good just to talk and be with my friends in the stake,” he says.
The following day the group went to Carthage, Illinois, and toured the jail where the Prophet Joseph and Hyrum Smith were martyred. The following week at EFY, Nick roomed with his buddy Matt Nielsen. “It was the last time we would be able to go, so we wanted to go together. It was a wonderful time,” he says.
After his two weeks of Church-related activities, Nick thought about his choice. “I was glad to be there with my church friends. And after I made the decision, there wasn’t much thought about Orlando.”
A month after youth conference, Nick began his senior year at Liberty High. A few weeks later basketball practice began.
A year earlier when Nick was a junior, Liberty had begun the season winning 21 consecutive games before losing three of its last five and dropping its first game in the state tournament. It was a major disappointment. Nick didn’t want history to repeat itself.
It didn’t. By the time the season was over, the Blue Jays had a 31–0 record, they were the Missouri 4A champions, and Nick had a choice of colleges he could attend to play basketball. He eventually signed with Stanford.
Nick’s been out of high school for about a year now. But instead of enrolling immediately at Stanford and learning the system of a perennial top-20 team while playing alongside all-Americans and appearing on TV, he deferred his scholarship for a couple of years. Today you can find Nick serving in the Brazil Maceio Mission.
Figures.

Mary Stark Pratt was the wife of Elder Rey L. Pratt, a member of the First Council of the Seventy and president of the Mexican Mission during the first decades of this century. This remarkable woman was the mother of thirteen children and, in addition to her family and mission responsibilities, served as the mission Relief Society president. She was an outstanding example of the ways Relief Society allows women to serve and bless others.
Mary gave homemaking lessons in which she taught unskilled sisters how to clean house quickly, mending and darning techniques, and sewing ideas so that they could make their homes places in which they could take pride. But she realized that the greatest need of any person is to feel a sense of self-worth. She encouraged the sisters to become skilled in native Mexican embroidery and make embroidered clothing and household items. People came so enthusiastically from all over the city to buy the handworked items that the sisters took great pride in their work and redoubled their efforts to perfect their skills.

I was about to go to my room when Reggie drove up, waved, and parked his car. He was young and wiry and came up the steps two at a time. He told me of his small business, his young children, and lack of work, and finally that he simply could not see how he could pledge fifty pounds.

I gripped his shoulder. “Let me suggest that you discuss this with your family and with the Lord. You are not wanting to build this church for me, but for the Lord. Perhaps He has a way in mind for you. But most of all, don’t be depressed. No one expects you to do more than you are capable of doing.”

Reggie was in a hurry, and there was obviously nothing more that I could say. I knew that unless these leaders made their own commitments, their people could not be expected to respond. I did not have much time to think about Reggie; before my visitor was out of sight, a young hotel employee called me to the phone.

This time there was a definite air of excitement among them that had not been there before. I began to speculate, gave up, and asked Reggie to give his report.

“I didn’t see how I could possibly get the fifty pounds, but my wife and I decided to make the pledge anyhow and hope we could find a way to get it. After pledging the fifty pounds, I contacted a nursery to see what I could do. I got a contract to bring in wild flower seeds—we have the most beautiful flowers in the world here in western Australia. I was lucky; the nursery had just received a request for these seeds from a U.S. company. My family and I have given our Saturdays and every possible hour after work to gathering them. We have not only earned our pledge money, but we’ve also received some side benefits from the work. The children enjoyed the family outings as well as the opportunity to earn extra money. We have started some projects of our own at home that we could never afford before.” He looked at each of us and smiled, “It sure has been a great benefit for us!”

“Did I tell you enough times how much I love you, my son?” I silently wondered. As my husband and I sat in the intensive-care unit at the hospital, we prayed for the life of our eldest child, Joel. I held his thin, cold hand in mine, listening to machines keeping him alive and weeping at the thought that perhaps I hadn’t done enough to let him know of my love. Most of all, I wanted to tell him once more, “I love you.”
I don’t know how many times I have expressed my love for Joel since his life was spared. Our family members now show love for one another more often and more easily—both in word and in deed. We try not to miss a chance to express our affection.
Joel’s brush with death reminded us that life is short and that we can’t let any opportunity pass to show our children how much we love them—especially given the great joy and security children experience in knowing they are loved.

WELCOME!I’m Sister Simon.Hi! I’m Ramón.Hello. I’m Cathlyn.I’m Mei Lin.Hi! I’m David.And I’m Joshua.
What on earth are you doing, Josh?Archaeology.Sure you are.
This is a very promising dig. I’m unearthing evidence of an early twenty-first century civilization.The early twenty-first century is right now.Exactly. From here I’ll work backward. Soon I’ll be in Book of Mormon times.
Right. So what have you discovered?This!
A CTR ring?Don’t you see? This proves that a young man who wanted to choose the right inhabited this dwelling. I bet with a little more digging, I’ll find a baptismal certificate.
Impressive.Brilliant might be a better word.

Illustrations by Tuesday Mourning
I never considered myself someone who compromised her standards. I didn’t wear immodest clothing or miss church on Sunday. I went to early-morning seminary every day, and being tempted to use bad language was never a problem for me. But dating was different.
Jonathan* and I first met at a summer youth camp. I was friendly, sure, but not really interested in him. Throughout the weeklong camp, we became little more than acquaintances and, at the end of the week, we got each other’s contact information. The camp was outside the state I lived in, so when I learned that he lived not only in the same state but also in a neighboring stake, I was kind of surprised. I was even more surprised when I received an email from him a few months later.
We began exchanging emails. I didn’t see him very often because he lived an hour and a half away, but we maintained a steady friendship for months. Neither he nor I was 16 yet, so going on dates wasn’t even on our minds.
Several months later, we saw each other again at the same summer youth camp. By that time, we were both 16. Our friendship progressed, and by the end of the camp, I was sad to see him leave. After we got home, we began talking even more frequently, and a few months later, we were officially dating.
At first, everything was fine. We would take turns driving to see each other twice a month. I became very close to his family, and he with mine. We spent hours talking on the phone or on the Internet every night.
I justified our dating: we were both 16, we lived an hour and a half apart so nothing bad would happen, and even though For the Strength of Youth says to “avoid going on frequent dates with the same person” ([2011], 4), it didn’t seem like a big deal.
Though we maintained a physical distance, we quickly became emotionally close. After over a year of dating, I felt like we’d grown too close, and I broke it off. I later learned that this had nearly destroyed him emotionally.
We didn’t talk to each other much for almost a year. But when we both started attending the same college, it wasn’t long until we were talking again. I soon realized how much I missed him, and I regretted my decision to break up with him.
Soon we were dating again. And because we had dated steadily in high school despite the counsel not to, our relationship progressed even faster than it had before. We saw each other every day, and I became emotionally captivated. We talked seriously about marriage and a future life together. After just a few months, I was certain that I would wait for him while he was on his mission and that we would get married after.
A few weeks before he received his mission call, I visited him in his hometown. I had just gone through one of the worst weekends of my life, and I looked forward to seeing him. When I got to his house, I noticed he was acting a little strange, but I didn’t think much of it. He wanted to go for a drive, which wasn’t unusual, but I felt uneasy. After driving for a little bit, we stopped.
“I don’t think we should date anymore,” he said.
I was stunned.
He went on. He told me he didn’t love me anymore and that he didn’t want to marry me when he got back from his mission—he didn’t even want to date me.
I left feeling angry, upset, frustrated, but mostly just heartbroken. I cried the entire way home, angry with myself for investing two years in someone who ended up not loving me.
For months I didn’t let go. I held onto the idea that he would change—that suddenly he would love me again, just as suddenly as he had decided that he didn’t. I couldn’t concentrate on classes. I wouldn’t let myself have fun. I constantly felt hurt and depressed.
During that time, I studied the scriptures more than I ever had before and prayed fervently every day asking for help through this trial. I desperately wanted the Lord to take away my pain. It didn’t go away all at once, but my pain did start to lessen. I began to let the Savior heal my broken heart. And I began to see what I had done wrong.
When we first started dating in high school, I didn’t immediately see the negative consequences of not following the guidelines in For the Strength of Youth. Life actually seemed pretty great. I was doing well in my classes, and Jonathan and I were having fun. But after we broke up, I realized what I had missed out on. I sacrificed better relationships with my family and friends because I was so focused on my relationship with Jonathan. I caused myself a lot of pain because I was too emotionally involved too young. And even though my decision to steady date as a youth hadn’t led me to violate the law of chastity, I left the relationship emotionally hurt. Had I followed the standard instead of thinking I was an exception to the rule, I could have avoided these trials.
After this experience, I learned a very valuable lesson. The Lord gives us standards not to prevent us from progressing but to guide us safely through this difficult life. I know that when we follow the standards, even if we don’t understand why they’re there, we will be protected.

In 1831, Joseph and Emma traveled to Kirtland, Ohio. When they reached the Newel K. Whitney and Co. store, Joseph jumped out of the sleigh to greet a Church member he had never met.
Newel K. Whitney! Thou art the man!
You have the advantage of me. I could not call you by name as you have me.
I am Joseph the Prophet. You’ve prayed me here. Now what do you want of me?
Joseph had seen a vision of the Whitney family praying for him to come to Kirtland. He recognized Brother Whitney from the vision.
Joseph and Emma stayed with Brother and Sister Whitney for a few weeks.

Henry and Mudge and the Careful Cousin, by Cynthia Rylant. Henry likes playing with his big, drooly dog, Mudge. But his cousin Annie is more concerned about keeping her dress and shoes clean. When Annie comes for a visit, Henry wonders if all three of them will ever learn how to play together.

A minister recently read the parable of the prodigal son over the radio. He concluded with: “The younger brother stood justified before the Lord due to his repentance, and the older brother fell under the greater condemnation.” When I heard this, I wept and I thought, “Oh, you foolish man. You do not understand the Lord’s teachings.” The older son had been hurt and neglected and, true, had not exercised love and compassion to his wayward brother; but no thinking man could ever suppose that his transgression compared to the wasteful, extravagant, riotous living with harlots of the younger brother.