Gospel Story Finder

The best part of our walk that day wasn’t riding in the shiny red wagon that Grandpa had given me for my birthday, even though it was lots of fun. And it wasn’t the snowflakes making polka dots on my blue coat and pants. The best part was when Mama stopped the wagon in front of Mr. Tanner’s pet shop.
Mr. Tanner’s window was full of frisky puppies. I got out of the wagon and pushed my nose against the cold window. The puppies ran to me and tried to lick my nose through the glass. Mama and I laughed.
“Oh, look, Cassie!” Mama exclaimed as she pointed. High up on a shelf I saw a cage of fluffy kittens. I waved, but they were busy chasing each other’s tails.
“What’s that?” I asked and pointed to a small ball of gray fur in another cage.
“I can’t tell,” Mama replied, “but here comes Mr. Tanner. Let’s ask him.”
“How’s my friend Cassie today?” asked Mr. Tanner, coming out of his shop. He brushed the snow from my hat. “Did you ever see so many little rascals?” he asked, chuckling. “Sure hope I can sell them all by Christmas.”
“What’s in that cage up there?” I asked, pointing to the gray furry ball.
“It’s a bunny,” he answered. “The last one too. Do you like her?”
Just then the bunny turned and looked at me with her big brown eyes. Her ears stood straight up, and she wiggled her tiny button nose. I wanted that bunny for my very own. “How much does she cost?” I asked.
“Just one dollar,” said Mr. Tanner.
“Oh, Mama!” I exclaimed, delighted. “I have a dollar in my piggy bank. Please, may I buy the bunny?”
Mama hugged me. “We’ll have to ask Grandpa first,” she said. “We’d better go now. It’s snowing hard, and we have a long way to walk.”
When we got home, Grandpa had supper on the table. After we’d sat down and he’d said the blessing on the food, I told him about the bunny in Mr. Tanner’s window.
“Eat your soup, Cassie,” he said. “It’ll warm your tummy.”
“Grandpa,” I said, “I have a dollar.”
“Drink your milk,” he said, filling my cup.
I love my grandpa a lot, but sometimes he just doesn’t listen to me.
“Grandpa!” I said in a loud voice. “Can I please have the bunny? You have Mama to take care of, and Mama has me, but I don’t have anybody.”
“It’s up to your mama,” he said as he buttered my bread, “but I would say no. It’ll just make a lot more work for me.”
So Mama said no. She might have said yes if she didn’t have to go to work every day. Nobody heard me say that I would take care of the bunny.
Whenever Mama and I walked to town to buy Christmas presents, we’d stop and look in Mr. Tanner’s window. Every time, there were fewer and fewer puppies and kittens, but the bunny was always there, and I was glad.
On Christmas Eve Mama and I walked by the pet shop one more time. All the animals in the window were gone. All but one—the bunny. She wiggled her nose, and I blew her a kiss. I wished for the hundredth time that Grandpa would change his mind.
Mr. Tanner saw us and came out of his shop. He whispered something to Mama, and Mama smiled and said she thought it would be all right.
“Cassie,” said Mr. Tanner, “would you take care of this bunny for me tomorrow? The shop will be closed, and it wouldn’t be right to leave her alone on Christmas Day.”
“Oh, yes!” I cried, and I quickly led Mama and Mr. Tanner into the shop. Mr. Tanner put the bunny into a small box with air holes and handed Mama a bag of rabbit food. I got to carry the bunny box all the way home!
“What in the world!” Grandpa exclaimed when he saw the bunny. “Didn’t we say a rabbit would be too much trouble?”
“It’s just for tomorrow,” Mama explained. “Cassie and I will take care of her.”
“I can do it all by myself,” I said.
Grandpa wasn’t so sure and just said, “Hmmmmm.”
I found a bigger box and put an old window screen over the top of it. I put food and water and the bunny inside. After she had eaten, I took her out and petted her and put her back until after supper.
Grandpa wouldn’t even look at her. Well, maybe he did once or twice—but just for a minute. He made a fire in the fireplace and set up our Christmas tree and strung the twinkly lights. Mama helped him hang the ornaments and strings of popcorn while I took care of the bunny.
At bedtime I put the bunny back in the box and left it by the fireplace so she would stay warm. Grandpa took me upstairs and tucked me in.
“Grandpa, can’t the bunny stay?” I pleaded.
But Grandpa just kissed my forehead and pulled the blanket up to my chin.
“Sometimes it’s hard to say no,” he said slowly, “especially to someone you love. Maybe someday, Cassie, but not now. Grandpa has no extra time.”
“I promise I’ll take care of her,” I called, but Grandpa was already downstairs.
Christmas morning I woke up before anyone else and tiptoed downstairs in my nightgown. The lights on our tree blinked on and off, and the room looked bright and sparkly. Under the tree were presents with my name on them, and my stocking, stuffed full and topped with an apple, hung from the mantle. Grandpa was asleep in his big chair by the fireplace. Our afghan lay across his lap. I tried not to wake him as I ran to the bunny box and looked in. The screen was off and the box was empty!
“Here, bunny, bunny,” I called softly, but she didn’t come. I peeked under the furniture. Then I searched all the other rooms, but the bunny was gone. I felt scared, and my heart went bump, bump, bump.
Mama came downstairs. “Cassie, what are you doing?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“The bunny’s lost!” I cried. “I can’t find her anywhere.”
Mama hugged me. “She has to be here somewhere.” But even with both of us searching, we couldn’t find her. “Oh, dear,” Mama said. “Maybe we made a mistake bringing her home.”
“What’s all the commotion?” Grandpa asked as he yawned and opened his eyes. “And why the sad faces? It’s Christmas!”
“The bunny’s missing,” said Mama, “and we’ve looked everywhere. What are we going to tell Mr. Tanner?”
Grandpa laughed and lifted the afghan. The bunny was fast asleep in his lap. “You tell Mr. Tanner that he’s sold another rabbit,” Grandpa said. He winked at me, and his whole face smiled. “I tried to tell her that she couldn’t stay, but she does have the biggest brown eyes, doesn’t she?”
I sat on the chair next to Grandpa.
“Cassie,” he said, “Grandpa forgot just how soft and cuddly little rabbits can be. No more pet shop for this bunny. She has a family now, and we’ll all help to take care of her.”
I hugged Grandpa hard, and Mama kissed his cheek. Later, when I opened my Christmas presents, I knew that I already had the best present of all.

One resident I personally interviewed during the pro bono project was a kindhearted 93-year-old woman named Lúcia. Grateful for our service, she jokingly exclaimed, “Marry me!”
Surprised, I responded: “Look over there at that beautiful young woman! She is my wife and the state prosecutor.”
She quickly fired back: “So what? She is young, pretty, and can easily get married again. All I have is you!”

To those of you who are struggling and losing ground, you who have been lured into that building through one of its many doors and now find no doors going out, you who feel trapped and defeated, we assure you there is hope, and all is not lost. Through his atonement, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has provided a way for you to escape that awful place. He knows you intimately. He knows your name, and he knows your pain. If you will approach your Father in Heaven with a broken heart and contrite spirit, you will find yourself miraculously lifted out of that great and spacious building and into the loving and comforting arms of the Savior of mankind.
At your earthly home, you will find your father’s arms have always been open for you and that during your absence your mother never stopped setting your place at the table in front of your empty chair. You will see clearly the difference between telestial happiness and celestial happiness, and you will experience and savor celestial joy through this life and throughout all eternity. I so testify and promise, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

As time passed, I went into surgery for fusions of the broken vertebrae. The incisions finally healed, and I began therapy each day to see how much of a return of the nerve function we could hope to accomplish. At first there was no response, and I was shocked to see how shrunken my arms had become. All the muscles I had built up through heavy farm work were gone, and we were starting all over again.
Many discouraging, fruitless sessions followed. Then one day, as I was watching the therapist work on the small bicep that remained, I saw a twitch! This was the first sign of life in my arm in fifteen weeks! We began to work on this twitch, and in a week it became a twitch to the second power. This little improvement became a source of hope. I honestly feel that this was a result of the administration by the priesthood, because by all rights I should have remained totally paralyzed for the remainder of my life.

I was exposed to the relationship between missionary work and love early in my life. When I was 11 years old, I received a patriarchal blessing from a patriarch who was also my grandfather.6 That blessing said in part, “I bless you with great love for your fellowmen, for thou shalt be called to carry the gospel to the world … to win souls unto Christ.”7
I understood even at that early age that sharing the gospel was based on a great love for all our Heavenly Father’s children.

Shy Charles A delightful story told in rhyme about a very bashful mouse who surprises everyone when he rescues his baby-sitter.Rosemary Wells4–8 years

Genuine gratitude was expressed by the writer of a letter received some time ago at Church headquarters. No return address was shown, no name, but the postmark was from Portland, Oregon:
“To the Office of the First Presidency:
“Salt Lake City showed me Christian hospitality once during my wandering years.
“On a cross-country journey by bus to California, I stepped down in the terminal in Salt Lake City, sick and trembling from aggravated loss of sleep caused by a lack of necessary medication. In my headlong flight from a bad situation in Boston, I had completely forgotten my supply.
“In the Temple Square Hotel restaurant, I sat dejectedly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a couple approach my table. ‘Are you all right, young man?’ the woman asked. I raised up, crying and a bit shaken, related my story and the predicament I was in then. They listened carefully and patiently to my nearly incoherent ramblings, and then they took charge. They spoke with the restaurant manager, then told me I could have all I wanted to eat there for five days. They took me next door to the hotel desk and got me a room for five days. Then they drove me to a clinic and saw that I was provided with the medications I needed—truly my basic lifeline to sanity and comfort.
“While I was recuperating and building my strength, I made it a point to attend the daily Tabernacle organ recitals. The celestial voicing of that instrument from the faintest intonation to the mighty full organ is the most sublime sonority of my acquaintance. I have acquired albums and tapes of the Tabernacle organ and the choir which I can rely upon any time to soothe and buttress a sagging spirit.
“On my last day at the hotel, before I resumed my journey, I turned in my key; and there was a message for me from that couple: ‘Repay us by showing gentle kindness to some other troubled soul along your road.’ That was my habit, but I determined to be more keenly on the lookout for someone who needed a lift in life.
“I wish you well. I don’t know if these are indeed the ‘latter days’ spoken of in the scriptures, but I do know that two members of your church were saints to me in my desperate hours of need. I just thought you might like to know.”
What an example of caring compassion.

Thank you so much for the Extra Smile cartoons. Every time I feel let down, I always love looking up the Extra Smile section. The comics make me laugh and feel great! I always share the messages with my friends, and they laugh too.
I found a special one about dating in the January 2004 issue. I really loved that one, and I’d like to thank you. I’m trying to enlarge the painting of that cartoon to stick it up in my classroom. Now I know how it feels to share a piece of the gospel with others.Asenaca Vuikadavu, Tamavua Ward, Suva Fiji North Stake

My family had an amazing mystery adventure in a cemetery. We felt like explorers—or detectives! We followed a map, looked for clues, and made it through lots of obstacles.
The mystery started when Grandma found a list of family members who were buried in a family cemetery. She wondered why her own grandpa wasn’t on the list.
Grandma knew he was buried there, but she had never visited the cemetery before because she lived far away.
“I wish we could help Grandma,” I said during dinner. I felt sad that Grandma couldn’t find out about her grandpa.
“I do too,” Dad said. “Maybe we can take a trip to the cemetery and find her grandpa’s headstone.”
I was excited to solve the mystery. My little brothers, Joseph, Hyrum, and Daniel were excited too!
First we had to drive a long way and do some detective work before we even found the cemetery. We stopped to ask a man if he knew where it was. Guess what! It was hidden down a road on his farm!
The cemetery was in the middle of a muddy field. It was surrounded by a cinder-block wall and covered with overgrown plants. We had to cut through vines just to open the gate.
It was like a jungle inside! Big trees filled the cemetery, and thorny vines wrapped around the headstones. We had to clear them off to read the names.
“Who is Marenda Ann Thomas Humphrey?” I asked, pulling plants off a headstone.
Dad ran over. “She’s your great-great-great grandmother!” he said. “Hopefully your great-great grandpa’s headstone is nearby.”
We looked and looked for his headstone but couldn’t find it anywhere. Mom and Dad cut and cleared vines. My brothers and I cleaned off dirt, bugs, and spider webs. It was gross! Some headstones had tipped over because tree roots grew under them. They were heavy, but we worked together to lift them up again.
We worked hard all day. When the sun was going down, Dad said it was time to go.
“I don’t think we’re going to find it today,” he said. He sounded pretty disappointed.
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to find the headstone for Grandma.
“Let’s say a prayer,” I said.
“That’s a great idea. Heavenly Father can help us find it,” said Mom.
We said a prayer and looked one last time. Dad found a long wire and used it to poke the ground. Suddenly the wire hit something solid. Maybe a headstone?
“I think Dad found something!” I said.
We knelt down and cleared away vines and weeds. Under a thin layer of dirt, we found a headstone. The name on it was Rodolph Jackson Humphrey.
“Dad, do you know who this is?” I asked.
When I looked at Dad, he had tears in his eyes. “This is exactly what we were searching for! It’s your great-great grandpa’s headstone,” he said.
“Yay!” we all shouted.
I gave my brothers high fives. “I knew we’d find it! We just needed a little help,” I said.
Mom smiled. “That’s what prayer is for.”
It was tricky and fun searching through the cemetery. We had to overcome walls, mud, thorns, and vines. But it was all worth it to get to know more about my great-great grandpa.
I know that the Holy Ghost helped us and that Heavenly Father answered our prayer. And the best feeling of all was hearing Grandma cheer when we told her all about it.

Following a Saturday of leadership training, the stake president took me to Sunday services held in a rented house. There were 240 people in attendance. Then the bishop introduced 10 new members baptized that week. The congregation was spread across two small rooms, with some members also sitting outside the building, watching the meeting through windows and doors. There were no complaints—only smiling faces and grateful hearts.

The New Era always provides answers to my questions and guideposts for my life. The article “The Shoes of a Winner” by Elder Robert L. Backman (January/February issue) has filled an empty space in my life and has made me want to be a better Latter-day Saint. I know it won’t be easy, but Heavenly Father will guide me.
Carlos A. VallarinoBalboa, Panama

Make a chronological list for your subject. My cousin Ginny helped with this. For my grandmother, Ginny filled in birth and marriage dates; then I spent a few hours with my grandmother gathering other important names, places, and dates, such as where she grew up, which schools she attended, when she graduated from those schools, where and when she worked, where and when she met my grandfather, where and when their children were born, where they lived, and when and where they retired. If the person you are writing about can’t help, ask a close friend or relative for this information.
Once you have the chronology in correct order, fill in the details. I asked my grandmother what her favorite subjects in school were and which subjects she did well in. Why did she work at certain jobs? Did she ever have any serious accidents or illnesses? We talked about her hobbies and her travels, and I asked about her best friends and what they meant to her. I also asked about the times in her life when she was happiest and saddest.

I explained, and asked, “How did you get home?”
My son said, “We couldn’t understand why you didn’t come to pick us up, but we thought you might be late from work, so we walked home. It started to get dark, but we couldn’t get in because we haven’t got a key.
“I didn’t know what to do, but all of a sudden I thought we should pray about it. So we knelt on the doormat while I said a prayer. We sat without talking for a little while after the prayer, as you taught us to do, and then a nice thing happened to me.
“I felt a big, warm hand touching the top of my head, and I heard a friendly voice saying, ‘Your mother is well, she has been taken care of. It will be a while before she comes home, and it will be all dark outside, but just stay calm. Take your little sister by the hand and stay near the apartment and play peacefully. If you do, the time will go by quickly until your mother is with you again.’
“When I looked up to see who was talking to me, I couldn’t see anybody, and no more was said. I felt calm.”

Recently my wife, Harriet, and I included in our prayers a special hope and pleading on behalf of some we love. We prayed that their healthcare team would be given special ability to cure their illnesses. We were impressed to add that even if an immediate cure or recovery might not take place, the Savior’s healing power might bring them comfort and peace. The healing effect of the Savior’s redeeming power may have an even greater impact on our emotional, spiritual, and even physical health than any earthly cure we may receive. Jesus Christ is the Healer in this life and in eternity.

Brother and Sister Harvey’s first mission to the Minnesota Minneapolis Mission in 1992 was a wonderful experience, especially for Sister Harvey, who had wanted to serve a full-time mission since the time her children had prepared to go on their own missions. She and her husband found joy in reactivating members and seeing a branch organized.

Sam came to my baptism too. He says that he wants to be baptized. His mom and dad want to know more about the Church before they let him be baptized. They’re going to talk to Mom and Dad. Maybe they’ll talk to the missionaries too.

My mom told my brother and me that if we would read two issues of the Friend from cover to cover she would let us pick something from our school book order. I read the November and December 2005 issues. When I was looking through the book order to choose a book, I saw some Christmas books that I knew my little sister Emmalie would like. Christmas was just a few weeks away. I asked my mom if I could choose those books and give them to my sister for Christmas. My mom said that would be very generous and something that Jesus would do. It felt good to see my sister’s face when she unwrapped her books on Christmas. I made someone else happy, and I think that’s what Jesus would do.

—Click! A switch was flipped, and a tiny sewing machine light guided adroit fingers over a swatch of terrycloth. The cultural hall of the Irvine California Stake Center was lined with sewing machines, and the middle was filled with cutting tables. The young women were making bibs for a local home for abused children.
“When they told us they use about 350 bibs per day, I thought, Wow—this service project really will make a difference,” said Katheryn Clayton.

I recall sitting in this Tabernacle when I was fourteen or fifteen—up in the balcony right behind the clock—and hearing President Heber J. Grant tell of his experience in reading the Book of Mormon when he was a boy. He spoke of Nephi and of the great influence he had upon his life. And then, with a voice ringing with a conviction that I shall never forget, he quoted those great words of Nephi: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.” (1 Ne. 3:7.)
There came into my young heart on that occasion a resolution to try to do what the Lord has commanded. I would that I might have the power, through the Spirit of the Lord, similarly to touch someone in this congregation today.

Home teaching carries with it unique challenges when Melchizedek Priesthood brothers are given as companions Aaronic Priesthood brothers who are busy with school activities, jobs, and friends. Sometimes they haven’t yet experienced enough of home teaching to understand the impact or importance of the assignment. It is crucial to train them properly and involve them as equals.
“One day my companion, Jared Barrott, is going to be the one in charge,” observes Rick Youngblood, a member of the Hixson Ward, Chattanooga Tennessee Stake. “He was just ordained a teacher, but he already understands that as a home teacher, his calling is to look out for the members of our ward.”
Brother Youngblood and Jared take turns presenting the monthly message. In addition, the two have compiled a list of all the birthdays and anniversaries celebrated by the six families they home teach. “We get together every month and write a note for special occasions,” Brother Youngblood says. “Then Jared mails them. And I always ask him for ideas on how we can better meet the needs of our families and help the families feel the Spirit.”