Gospel Story Finder

My grandfather Horton David Haight was 15 when the second company arrived in the valley, the company following the Brigham Young company, so he would have walked across the plains. So when we sing of walking with “Faith in Every Footstep,” I have a grandfather who did that. At 15 you were not riding in the wagon; you were out where the action was, hitting the horses and the oxen and doing whatever would need to be done. And the girl whom he later married, Louisa Leavitt, turned 11 when her family arrived in the valley. So Grandmother would have walked across also.

At the beginning of 2020, I went to England to study English through an exchange program. I met a girl there from Morocco. Her questions about why I didn’t drink alcohol led to a discussion about the Word of Wisdom, the Church, and the Book of Mormon. I showed her my Book of Mormon in French, and I was again able to answer questions about the gospel in French.

My husband and I recently completed a project which to us serves as a kind of analogy for celestial family building—we built a house.
From the time when both of us were young and we didn’t even know each other, we had dream houses in mind. Mine was full of loved ones, sunshine, warmth, creativity, smells of good things cooking, and was surrounded by trees and flowers. His was a peaceful haven from the world, warm and cozy—with a fire in the fireplace, a bookcase full of books, his favorite music playing, and the smell of good things cooking. When we met and married, the building of that house came high on our list of priorities. We felt that creating our physical environment here on earth would be a wise use of our stewardship. (It was also the only way we could afford a house like we wanted.) We believed in Winston Churchill’s statement: “First we shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.” We spent years studying homes by the master designers and architects and looking at homes. Finally we found the ideal location for the house—and then our planning began in earnest. As we paid for the property, we drew house plans and collected ideas from books, magazines, and other homes. We kept our ideas in a folder, then a box, then several boxes.
We tried to draw our own house plans, but our drawings never quite matched the ideal in our minds, so we searched for a designer to help us. We found one who shared our ideas of what a home should be and was willing to help us plan the kind of home we wanted. In fact, because of his own special abilities, he added dimensions we could not have conceived of. Throughout the planning and building, we prayed for help and guidance, and our prayers were answered often in surprising ways.
Some builders told us we could not build the home we had in mind for the money we could afford to spend. Some told us to throw away our dreams. “A standard plan is easier and cheaper to build,” they said. But we were not interested in the easiest thing to do; we had a dream. So we decided to build it ourselves.
The time of building was exciting—and discouraging. It seemed to take forever, but finally there was a footing, a foundation, a wall. One small step at a time, the house took shape. Sometimes we made mistakes and had to do things over. Other times we had to compromise and settle for less than the ideal. Often we went back to the designer and the blueprints for clarification and help. We worked very hard day after day—sometimes doing big, impressive things like putting up a wall or nailing down a floor, but more often doing chores that didn’t show but were still important. We did much of the work ourselves, but occasionally it was necessary to hire experts who possessed skills or tools we did not have.
At last the big day arrived. We packed up our belongings and moved into our dream home. It is not quite perfect, but it is warm, full of people we love, sunshine, creativity, books, music, and the smell of good things cooking. And sometimes it is even peaceful and quiet—after midnight and before 6:00 A.M.

Warm-Up
It may surprise you, but it does make a difference what kind of warm-up you use. Jerry Bartak of BYU tested three types of warm-ups on the accuracy of the 15-foot one-hand jump shot.
The three warm-up methods: (1) related warm-up—an exercise similar to the act itself, such as simply shooting balls at the basket; (2) unrelated warm-up—four minutes of jumping jacks, touching toes, running in place, etc; (3) warm-up—any exercise to increase muscle flexibility and blood flow to muscles, and to stimulate muscles for activity. After 25,860 shots taken over an eight-week test period by 64 above-average, average, and below-average shooters applying the different warm-up methods, Jerry discovered that players using the related warm-up method could make 4 to 5 percent more shots. (Incidentally, above-average shooters were those who made 68 or more shots out of 100 15-foot jump shots; average—53 to 67 shots; below average—52 or less.)

Kendra:
I was so mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. I actually moved to Florida for a few months. One day I just cried out to God, “I’m tired of the arguing. Please help me figure out if this Church is right.”
As I prayed, peace came to me. Once I came back to North Carolina, I didn’t have all the negative energy I had before. I used to leave the room when the missionaries came, but after this experience, I started interacting with them and cooking dinner for them. But I still wasn’t ready to go to church with Kevin.

I’m a missionary serving in the Costa Rica San Jose Mission. I’ve enjoyed the New Era since I was 13 years old. Each issue has had articles that have helped me. The article by Vicki Leavitt Driggs in the November 1986 issue, entitled “The Grudge” seemed to be meant especially for me. It helped me tremendously with my own particular problem.
Normally, I get along well with the people I meet, and as a missionary, of course, I meet and work with a lot of different people. But I’ve had to work with a certain individual with whom it has been very difficult for me to get along. I was really feeling awful inside. I didn’t want to have bad feelings about anyone, especially one with whom I had to be very closely associated.
A couple of days ago this person did something that really hurt me. I felt quite angry and was even more “unkindly disposed” toward her than I had previously been.
When I returned to my apartment, I opened the November issue of the New Era I had just received from my parents. I started to read “The Grudge.” After reading it I realized that I felt exactly like the girl in the story. I knew I had to talk to this person whom I was allowing to make me have these negative feelings. I had to clear the air.
That’s exactly what I did. Now things are better between us than ever before. Thank you so much for this story.
Sister Cami OscarsonCosta Rica San Jose Mission

It’s nice having one whole coach to yourself, especially if he’s your dad. It provides services you couldn’t expect from ordinary coaches. For example, Dene was really shaken when he had a kick blocked in one game. Brother Garner took him back out on the field after the game, while the stands were still emptying, and had him kick ball after ball from the same spot. He hit 48 before he missed one. Brother Garner then explained that it wasn’t his fault if a kick was blocked occasionally, and Dene went away with his confidence restored.

But Brother Garner didn’t leave it at that. He did something positive to help overcome the problem. He built a ten-foot-high barrier for Dene to kick over. As a result, Dene has learned to chip PATs or short field goals so high that Goliath would have a hard time blocking them.

People still mix them up, though. Just last year, one of Nathan’s friends from the basketball team saw Brad from a distance and thought Nathan had gotten into an accident. He called later to make sure Nathan was OK. Nathan just laughed and said, “I’m fine, but now you’ve met my twin brother.”

Matt and Mandy keep helping Mrs. Chen each week. She shares fun stories from her childhood.
Once when I was your age, I got stuck in a tree!
My dad got a ladder to help me down.

Jim and Helen Gebhard are from Grand Junction, a small town in western Colorado. Jim is an orthopedic surgeon and specializes in treating patients with spinal conditions.
Like the Tarrs, the Gebhards considered volunteering as area medical advisors and since they speak Spanish, they thought they could serve in a Spanish speaking country. However, they were also contacted about coming to American Samoa, where the hospital has not had anyone with a spinal specialty before. Upon arrival, Dr. Gebhard had a long list of patients to see.
“We have been able to help patients that have become paralyzed because their conditions were not recognized in time,” he says. “They will be helped even more when we get our surgery operations going here.”
Sister Gebhard has a master’s degree in child development and taught courses at the local community college in Grand Junction for parents with preschool children. She now teaches those same classes at the American Samoa Community College five days a week.
The Gebhards have already developed some very close relationships with patients. “We’ve even been invited to two weddings!”

I love hearing the variety of voices and accents of youth who sent in recordings. Knowing their voices would be heard around the world, many readers worked very hard to get their recordings just right. Some, like Thomas from New Zealand (who read 3 Nephi 20) or José from Peru (who read 3 Nephi 23), practiced for hours or days before recording. A group of 10 youth from South Korea faced the challenge of English not being their first language. Their solution was to work together, each recording a few verses at a time and stitching them together into what became 2 Nephi 28 and 29.

We had a wonderful life. We had jobs to earn a little bit of money here and there. During World War II, we collected and sold scrap metal to help with the war effort. I would get my little pile, and we would sell it to a scrap metal dealer for a few dimes. My father would make out a tithing slip for my two or three pennies. He did that with all of the children in Bunkerville Ward, and we really learned about paying tithing. Since we didn’t have a chapel, we held church in the school; the bishop’s work was done in our home. I can remember seeing other children and adults coming to pay their tithing. It was a good lesson, and I’ve never forgotten it.

I recently took a backpacking trip with a group of other young men through Yosemite National Park in California, USA. The first day of hiking was the hardest physically because of the elevation gain and the altitude, but it became even harder when we couldn’t find any of the planned pools or creeks on the trail to find water we could filter. I started to get worried because I’d only brought one canteen of water, which quickly ran out in the afternoon heat.
After about four miles with no water source, we decided to say a prayer that we would find water soon. About a half-mile farther on, we found a small pool of water fed by a small stream. We were so overjoyed that we decided to give a prayer of thanks to the Lord, much like Lehi and his family when they traveled in the wilderness.

Elder Didier remembered another lesson he learned as a young man: “One day while I was shooting a BB gun at some cherry trees in our garden, I heard the noise of shattering glass, and I knew that I had broken someone’s window. I hid in my room, imagining that the police would come and arrest me. Then I decided to do the honest thing. I rode my bike to the house with the broken window. When I rang the bell, a man came to the door. Trembling, I said, ‘I came to see if by any chance you have a broken window. If you have one, I’m sorry, for I am the one who did it. It was an accident.’
“The man said, ‘Well, as a matter of fact, young man, I do have a broken window.’ And to my surprise he added, ‘I admire your courage to come and tell me. Not many young men would have done that. I’m proud of you. Telling me is enough. I’ll repair the window myself.’ Then he shook my hand!
“It was an experience that I will remember forever because I learned that it’s always best to be honest, even when you’re afraid.”

Jeremy didn’t look up from the squished peel. He knew how Kaitlyn was feeling. Not too many weeks ago, at his soccer game, he’d felt the same way.
Most of the kids had dads there. Mom was OK. She cheered and knew the rules. But she couldn’t come to the final game. She’d had to work then too. Even so, before the game, he’d searched the sidelines. No Mom.
He’d played well—each time he kicked the ball, he’d think of Mom not being there and the ball would sail far. He’d scored three goals, and the score was 5–4 in favor of the opponents when he got the ball again in the final minutes. He dribbled it down the field, evaded the defense, and aimed at the goal. The ball bounded toward the goal, hit the corner of the post, and went … outside.
“I lost the game,” Jeremy moaned. Knowing that no one was there waiting for him in the bleachers, but still hoping, he trudged off the field.

Although the Youngs were a Bible-reading family and three of Brigham’s brothers became itinerant preachers for the Methodist Reformed Church, Brigham himself was not really converted to any church until he received a copy of the Book of Mormon from his brother Phinehas and studied it. Even then “I weighed the matter studiously for nearly two years,” he said, “before I made up my mind to receive that Book.”
In the fall of 1831 five elders from an isolated branch of the Church in Pennsylvania came to the neighborhood to preach. Brigham and his friend Heber C. Kimball listened to them and believed what they taught. Within a few months they were both baptized. Father Young, all Brigham’s brothers and sisters, and his ailing wife also became members.

After the gospel was restored, 12 Apostles were called to be special witnesses of Jesus Christ to the world. Two Apostles, Heber C. Kimball and Brigham Young, were called to England. They had very little money, but every time Elder Young opened his trunk, he always found enough for their journey. After they got to England, a local minister sent a constable to arrest Elder Woodruff for preaching. Elder Woodruff explained that he had a license to preach and invited the constable to stay. The constable ended up getting baptized! The minister sent two clerks to spy on Elder Woodruff. They got baptized too!

“Utah School for the Blind”—I turned my car into the school’s driveway and glanced at my watch. I had had trouble finding the address, and I was late for an appointment at 12:00 to meet with Scott Jeppson from American Fork, Utah. He had recently been awarded the Eagle badge, an outstanding achievement and an especially remarkable one for him. Scott was born with an eye disease called glaucoma, and by the time he was twelve, due to the glaucoma and a list of other medical complications, he was totally blind.
Scott was waiting at the edge of the parking lot when I drove in. The first thing I noticed about him was his smile. He had the biggest, brightest smile I’d ever seen. After shaking hands with him and introducing myself, I apologized for being late.
“I got lost,” I explained.
“Well, that’s okay,” he said. “That happens to me a lot, too. If we hurry we might still be able to get some lunch.”
Scott led me across the campus as fast as I could walk. I didn’t understand how he could go so quickly when he couldn’t see until I realized that he had every square foot of the place memorized. After lunch we followed Scott’s regular schedule: reading class, swimming, and history. Scott reads using the Braille system and by using a machine called an opticon. The opticon converts regular printed material into vibrations in the shape of letters that are read with a single finger.
After the classes were over, I got a chance to talk casually with Scott as we sat on the grass in the sun. There was a group of students playing softball below us. The game was the same as regular softball except the ball had an electronic beeper in it.

Hermann Mössner was nervous as he walked into the chapel. He and his friends from the English prison camp were still in their uniforms, marked with the letters “P.O.W.” Everyone knew those letters stood for “prisoner of war.” What would the members of the branch think? Would they see him as their enemy?
Hermann was from Germany. After being forced to fight in World War II, he had been captured by British soldiers and sent to the prison camp. This was the first time he’d been allowed to go to church since being captured.
Hermann took a deep breath as he sat down on one of the benches. He could see the branch president, George Camm, sitting at the front. President Camm was Hermann’s friend. Seeing him smile made Hermann feel better.
Several months ago, President Camm came to visit Hermann at camp after hearing that he was the only member of the Church there. At first Hermann was a little worried. Would President Camm hate him? Their countries had fought against each other in the war, after all.
But when Hermann and President Camm met, they smiled and shook hands. Then they prayed together. They sang songs and talked about the gospel. They even took the sacrament together.
“I love you, my brother,” Hermann said when President Camm had to leave. He saw tears in President Camm’s eyes as he waved goodbye.
After that, President Camm visited Hermann every Saturday. During the rest of the week, Hermann did his best to live the gospel. He shared his testimony with the other prisoners while they worked in the fields. He answered their questions while they carved wood after a long day’s work. Sometimes he prayed with them.
“Hey, Hermann,” one of the prisoners had said one night. “Could I join you and Mr. Camm on Saturday?”
Hermann looked up from the block of wood he was carving. He smiled. “Of course!”
“May I too?” another prisoner asked.
Hermann and President Camm were very excited to teach more of the prisoners. Soon some of them even wanted to be baptized!
And now, as Hermann looked around the chapel at the families waiting for church to start, he felt peace. Some members were nervous around Hermann at first. But soon everyone came to trust him. The other prisoners who wanted to learn about the gospel got permission to leave camp to go to church with Hermann on Sundays. Later, Hermann was even called to be the branch Sunday School president.
Time passed, and Christmas got closer. Hermann wanted to do something to thank the members who had been so kind to him. Then he had an idea! It was almost time for the branch Christmas party. Hermann gathered more blocks of wood and started carving. One by one, he turned the blocks into little cars, elephants, planes, trains, and horses.
Finally the day of the party arrived. Everyone ate food and sang Christmas songs together. Hermann and his friends from camp sang Christmas songs in German.
Then Hermann pulled out a big bag. Inside were 40 wooden toys! Hermann gave one to each Primary child. It was a Christmas they would never forget.
After three years in the prison camp, Hermann returned to his family in Germany. Years later, Hermann visited the same chapel in Leeds, England, he attended as a prisoner of war. Some of the grownups there told him they still had the wooden toys he had carved for them when they were children!
See Come, Follow Me for Moroni 7–9 and Christmas.

Rebecca Bringhurst and Elisabeth Harper are friends who were very excited to finally take a ballet class. They could hardly wait to wear a tutu and dance on a real stage at recital time. A few weeks after classes started, the teacher told them the date of the recital. It was on a Sunday! Elisabeth and Rebecca told their teacher that they would not be able to dance on Sunday, but that they would still like to take the classes. Their mothers explained that it was a choice Rebecca and Elisabeth were making. The teacher did some checking and was able to change the date and get the theater on Saturday instead.