Gospel Story Finder

Music is an important part of Pablo’s life. His talent was quickly recognized by his family when he began playing the Church hymns on the violin by ear! He enjoys playing “Come, Come, Ye Saints” and “I Am a Child of God.” He has performed violin solos in sacrament meeting.

At a fireside given by the Sounds in Hamburg, New York, two investigators decided to join the Church. After a show in Ontario, Canada, another investigator decided to be baptized. And one family in New York hunted down Jerry Allman, who had toured there the year before, to tell him that a family had been baptized as the result of his placing a Book of Mormon with them the year before when they’d come to the performance.

It was the middle of winter, and I was in my beach clothes. My little sister had been planning this for weeks, and it was finally here: the family inside beach party! We’d all helped prepare by drawing decorations, hanging lights inside, and covering the floor with beach towels. My dad even joked about putting sunscreen on! We listened to beach music and ate our dinner on the floor. After eating we played our own version of volleyball by tying a string across the room for the “net” while each team tried to blow a feather over the string rather than hitting a ball. Laughing together at the different faces each of us made was the best part of the night. But doing something together as a family—something really fun and different—made it even better.

Our benefits from worship in the temple have extended beyond blessing our children. On one occasion, my husband faced a very perplexing employment problem that he decided to take to the temple. On that day, the Lord blessed him with the impression that a particular scripture was the answer to his question.

Upon arriving home, he anxiously opened the scriptures and, to his delight, found help for his problem. This experience opened up a whole new application of the scriptures. The Lord can speak to His children by reminding us of scriptures that contain answers to our challenges. We appreciate this principle we learned in the temple.

All worship begins with an awareness of God or it does not begin. The first step in worship is to perceive him whom we worship. A lady once said to Joseph Turner, the great master painter of sunsets, “Sir, I have never seen in any sunset in nature the vivid colors you put into your painting of Sunset in Venice.” Turner’s reply was simple: “But don’t you wish you could?” It takes more than the natural eyes of a man to see into the head of nature. Turner saw, with the eyes of the soul, a glory that natural eyes could not see. The same is true of worship. The soul must be awakened by the Spirit to see the glory of God.

In response to the article entitled “How to Say No and Keep Your Friends” in the February 1988 issue, I would like to say that sometimes it’s harder to say no to people who are LDS. I appreciate the experiences told in this article about people saying no to their nonmember friends. I commend them! However, sometimes it is overlooked that people who have LDS friends have to say no too.
I was at a party on Halloween night with some friends, most of them from my Sunday School class, all of them good LDS people. We started watching a movie that was not exactly up to our standards. I suggested we turn it off and watch something else, and to my surprise I received answers like “It’s not that bad!” “It isn’t even rated R.” Quite truthfully, I was shocked. Leaving my friend’s house that night was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was disappointed to find that I stood alone, all alone. It hurt more to see my LDS friends compromise their standards than it would have to see nonmember friends watch that movie.
Sometimes people outside of Utah think that we have it easy here, and in some ways we do, but there are challenges here just like anywhere else, and sometimes it’s harder because people expect more. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that I have it harder than anyone else. In fact, in some ways I have it easier. Let me conclude by saying this: Saying no is hard in any situation, especially one where you know your friends should stand behind you. But blessings will come if you believe in Christ and do as he would have you do.
Name withheld

Janelle could hardly wait until Trisha’s birthday party on Friday night. Trisha was turning 11. The invitation promised games, refreshments, and a video. It was the last party of the school year before Janelle’s friends went their separate ways for the summer.
Janelle was the first to arrive at the party. Once all the girls had arrived, Trisha led them to the family room. Crepe-paper streamers decorated it.
After they had birthday cake and Trisha opened her presents, she pulled out the video. “Look what movie I have. My big brother rented it.”
Janelle recognized the video as an R-rated movie. In family home evening, her parents had talked about the right and wrong kind of movies. She knew if she stayed to watch it, she would be going against the standards they’d tried to teach her and against the teachings of the prophet. President Hinckley had spoken out against seeing bad movies. Then she thought of the promises she’d made at the time of her baptism.
“I’m sorry,” she quietly said to Trisha, “but I can’t watch this. I think I’d better call my mom. She’ll come to get me.”
The disappointment in Trisha’s eyes nearly caused Janelle to change her mind. Then she remembered her parents’ counsel that if she ever felt uneasy or worried in a situation, she should call them and they would come for her. She found Trisha’s mom in the kitchen.
“Mrs. Powers, can I call my mom?” Janelle asked.
Mrs. Powers looked up from where she was putting plates in the dishwasher. “Is anything wrong?”
Janelle didn’t want to get Trisha in trouble, but she knew she couldn’t stay at the party. She explained about the movie. Trisha’s mom looked troubled. After she showed Janelle where the phone was, she hurried downstairs. Janelle called and told her mother what was going on.
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” her mother said.
Just then, Trisha and the other girls trooped upstairs. “We aren’t going to watch the movie,” Trisha told Janelle. “Please don’t leave.”
The rest of the girls nodded in agreement.
“I thought it’d be cool to watch that movie, but I knew it wasn’t right,” Trisha added, her face reddening. “We thought we’d play some games.”
Janelle grinned. “Let me call my mom back before she leaves and tell her I’ll be staying after all.”
“Thanks, Janelle,” one of the other girls said. “If it hadn’t been for you, the whole party would have been ruined.”
Standing up for what she believed hadn’t been easy, but Janelle was glad that she had.
Trisha threw her arms around Janelle’s neck. “Thanks for staying. The party wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
Janelle hugged her friend back.

Some years ago in our meetinghouse in Darmstadt, Germany, a group of brethren was asked to move a grand piano from the chapel to the adjoining cultural hall, where it was needed for a musical event. None were professional movers, and the task of getting that gravity-friendly instrument through the chapel and into the cultural hall seemed nearly impossible. Everybody knew that this task required not only physical strength but also careful coordination. There were plenty of ideas, but not one could keep the piano balanced correctly. They repositioned the brethren by strength, height, and age over and over again—nothing worked.
As they stood around the piano, uncertain of what to do next, a good friend of mine, Brother Hanno Luschin, spoke up. He said, “Brethren, stand close together and lift where you stand.”
It seemed too simple. Nevertheless, each lifted where he stood, and the piano rose from the ground and moved into the cultural hall as if on its own power. That was the answer to the challenge. They merely needed to stand close together and lift where they stood.

Nearly a year ago, we lost my older brother in a tragic automobile accident. John’s early years were full of promise and accomplishment. But as he grew older, a broken body and uncooperative mind made life very difficult. While the healing he hoped for didn’t come in this life, John nonetheless held to his faith, determined to endure, as best he could, to the end.

Now, I know that John was not perfect, but I have wondered what it was that gave him such endurance. Many voices invited him into the cynical fringe, but he chose not to go. Instead, he did his best to anchor his life at the gospel center. He lived his life there because he knew he would find the voice of his Master there; he lived his life there because he knew it was there that he would be taught.

In Auckland is the Panmure stake. And in that stake’s boundaries is Bucklands Beach, where Bella Aniterea and Nicolas Purcell live. This morning Bella, a Mia Maid, is giving a talk on prayer in sacrament meeting. There’s a good reason her dad, a member of the Howick Ward bishopric, asked her to give that talk. She says she has a testimony of prayer because she prays.
In preparing for her talk, Bella reread the story of Enos in the Book of Mormon. “He prayed for one whole day, and he prayed for his enemies,” Bella recounts. Although she had read the story before, she had never noticed that Enos prayed for his enemies. “I haven’t done that yet,” Bella says, “but I think I’m going to start today.”

In January 2011 my mom died. It has been really hard without her, but we keep going, knowing that Heavenly Father loves us. When I read the Friend I am comforted. I can’t wait to go to heaven to be with my mom and my family and Heavenly Father and Jesus.

Many years ago I stood by the bedside of a young man, the father of two children, as he hovered between life and the great beyond. He took my hand in his, looked into my eyes and pleadingly asked, “Bishop, I know I am about to die. Tell me what happens to my spirit when I die.”
I prayed for heavenly guidance before attempting to respond. My attention was directed to the Book of Mormon, which rested on the table beside his bed. I held the book in my hand, and, as I stand before you here today, that book opened to the fortieth chapter of Alma. I began to read aloud:
“Now my son, here is somewhat more I would say unto thee; for I perceive that thy mind is worried concerning the resurrection of the dead. …
“Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection—Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body … are taken home to that God who gave them life.
“And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow.” (Alma 40:1, 11–12.)
My young friend closed his eyes, expressed a sincere thank-you, and silently slipped away to that paradise about which we had spoken.

In August, along with Elder Quentin L. and Sister Mary Cook, Sister Nelson and I met individuals in Buenos Aires, Argentina—most of them not of our faith—whose lives have been changed by wheelchairs provided to them through our Latter-day Saint Charities. We were inspired as they expressed joy-filled gratitude for their newfound mobility.

When Stevenson, a Scottish writer who had gone to the South Seas in 1888 for his health (he had been sickly even as a child), decided to live in Apia, Samoa, he built a large house and called it Vailima (Five Rivers). Stevenson learned the ways and the language of the Samoans, and they built a road to Vailima that expressed their feeling for him—“The Road of the Loving Heart.” The Samoans often traveled on it to visit with their dear friend, to listen to him read, or to join him in family prayers.

This story took place in the USA.
Josie sat with her cousin Ashlyn under a tree outside her house.
“I wish there was something fun we could do to earn money,” Josie said.
“Maybe we could earn money by doing things for people,” said Ashlyn.
“What if we made it a club?” Josie jumped up excitedly. “Like a pet-sitting club or a dog-walking club.”
“We could do all kinds of things,” Ashlyn said. “People always need help. And they would pay us.”
Ashlyn was right. Every day Josie saw people who needed help.
Suddenly Josie had another idea. She felt warm inside. It reminded her of her baptism last year. She’d promised to always remember Jesus and follow His example. She knew one way she could do that.
“What if we have a club that helps people for free?” Josie asked. The warm feeling got stronger.
Ashlyn’s eyes grew wide. “That would be really fun,” she said. “We can help people at school and church—pretty much everywhere.”
“We can call it the Making Things Better Club!” Josie said. “Let’s start tomorrow at school.”
The next day at recess, Ashlyn and Josie ran to the edge of the playground.
“Do you see anyone we can help?” Ashlyn stood on her tiptoes and looked toward the bumpy rainbow slide.
“Not yet.” Josie searched the monkey bars and the swing set. Kids were sliding and swinging. They were bouncing balls and playing with jump ropes. No one really looked like they needed help. Everyone seemed to have a friend. Then she saw a younger girl all by herself with a jump rope.
Josie grabbed Ashlyn’s arm. “Look over there!”
Josie and Ashlyn found jump ropes and walked over to the girl.
“Hi. I’m Josie.”
“And I’m Ashlyn. What’s your name?”
The girl looked surprised. “I’m Leslie.”
“Do you want to play with us?” Josie held up a jump rope.
Leslie smiled. “Yes!”
Ashlyn and Josie taught Leslie some new ways to jump rope. When the bell rang, they said goodbye. Josie felt good inside. She knew it was the Holy Ghost.
After that, whenever Josie and Ashlyn saw Leslie in the hallway, they said hi to her.
Josie and Ashlyn looked for more people to help. Sometimes they said nice things to people and tried to cheer them up. Other times they invited kids to play with them.
One day, Josie smiled at a boy outside the school. “I like your dinosaur shirt,” she said.
The boy grinned and looked down at his shirt. “Thanks.”
As Josie sat down, she realized she hadn’t even thought about doing that for the club! She had just done it.
Josie thought of all the friends she had made since she and Ashlyn started their club. Josie really liked helping people. It made her want to do more nice things for others. The Making Things Better Club was making her better. And that felt great.
Illustrations by Tania Rex

Several years ago I had the opportunity of playing quarterback in the National Football League. Over a seven-year period I played for the Pittsburgh Steelers, the St. Louis Cardinals, and the Atlanta Falcons.
The first of the two thrills took place one day when I was playing with the Steelers against the Philadelphia Eagles. On the first play of the game from scrimmage, I faked to the halfback and dropped back into the pocket. I threw a long pass down the sideline, and my receiver, who was racing down the sideline as fast as he could go, reached out with one hand, caught the ball, pulled it in, and went all the way for a touchdown.
That touchdown pass was a great thrill for me. It was really exciting with 80,000 people cheering. Not many people will have that particular thrill during their lifetime.

Just two weeks ago, in Guadalajara, Mexico, at a stake conference, I visited three families who will be among my lifelong friends. Miracles occurred in all their lives. In one visit, a nonmember father, who has been donating an amount equal to a full tithe and who supports his wife and seven sons in the Church, was asked as patriarch to select someone to lead us in kneeling prayer. He looked past the General Authority, past the stake president and the bishop, and with love in his eyes asked his wife to give the prayer. What a golden moment! What a tribute to her love and patience.

This same man was unable to sleep that night, and the following morning, in a meeting with recent converts and newly returned members, gave a loving, beautiful testimony of the gospel and pledged to be baptized in another eight days.

The chapel I worship at in Nigeria is close to a school whose principal wants nothing to do with the Church. On one occasion the principal told a teacher never to return to the school after learning that the teacher was a Latter-day Saint. A Church member who volunteered to visit and explain the mission of the Church was rebuffed.
As a salesman for laboratory and medical equipment, I often visit schools and hospitals to make sales. After one unsuccessful month, I had no choice but to visit this school. My plan was to sell my product and leave, hoping the principal would not find out I was a member of the Church. The Spirit, however, told me that she would want to know about my religion.
My business with the head of the school’s science department went smoothly, and he took me to the principal for payment. After filling out the check, she started asking questions to get to know me better. When her questions became personal, I began to feel uncomfortable. Then she asked the question I had been praying she would not ask: “Which denomination are you a member of?”
I was tempted to lie, collect my check, and go because I badly needed the sale. But I felt I should tell her the truth. After all, the early Saints had experienced worse than this minor test of my faith.
With renewed courage, I looked her straight in the eye and said, “I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Then I bore my testimony. To my surprise she smiled, said we all worship the same God, and handed me the check.
As I left, a scripture came to my mind: “Now this was a great trial to those that did stand fast in the faith; nevertheless, they were steadfast and immovable in keeping the commandments of God, and they bore with patience the persecution which was heaped upon them” (Alma 1:25).
I was happy not to have disappointed Heavenly Father or myself. Because of this experience, I made a commitment to always be a good sales representative. More important, I committed to always be a good representative of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

It was her first day on the job as a dietary aid for a nursing home. Dawn Dyrhaug, 15, of Arlington Heights, Illinois, could have hesitated when she heard the sound of someone choking. What if she did something wrong? She could have held back, but she didn’t.
Dawn went into action. She knew she had only about four minutes to dislodge the food that prevented Clara Lieptz from breathing. Help might not arrive in time. Besides she had been trained to help.
She clasped her hands below the elderly lady’s rib cage in the Heimlich Maneuver. Dawn had learned that in many cases it would be necessary to repeat the procedure. To her relief, however, repeated attempts were not necessary.
In the days following the incident, Clara introduced Dawn as the girl who saved her life. Dawn felt good. For four years during YW girls’ camp with her stake, she had learned lifesaving techniques and first aid.
For having the know-how and exhibiting the courage to use it, Dawn will receive the American Red Cross Certificate of Merit signed by President Reagan and Illinois Governor Thompson.
Dawn is a member of the Northwest Second Ward, Schaumburg Illinois Stake.

Kelly smiled at the fields whizzing by outside her window. Hay bales stood in neat rows, soon to be stored in the barn. Dad whistled to the radio as he drove. Mom and the baby were sleeping. Soon they would all be at Aunt Lizzie’s farm, surrounded by cousins, aunts, and uncles.
All year, Kelly looked forward to the first weekend in September—the weekend of the family reunion. It was finally here! She couldn’t wait to see her favorite cousin, Angie. Every year they built hay forts, rode horses, and waded in the river.
Kelly jumped out of the car almost before the tires stopped rolling. “We’re here!” she bellowed. She found Angie jumping on the trampoline with a girl she didn’t recognize.
“Kelly!” Angie called.
“Angie!” Kelly called back. She leaped onto the trampoline and hugged her cousin.
“Kelly, this is my best friend, Tricia. My mom said I could bring a friend this year!” Angie bubbled.
Kelly eyed Tricia suspiciously, jealous that Angie had a best friend. Kelly knew it was silly to feel that way—she had friends at home, too. She made an effort to smile.
“Let’s go build a hay fort,” she said to both girls. “Want to?”
Tricia pulled a face. “I’m allergic to hay.”
“What about horseback riding?” Kelly suggested next. “I bet Uncle Jeff would saddle up horses for us.”
“Nah,” Angie said. She looked quickly in Tricia’s direction. “I think we’ll stay here for now.”
Kelly’s heart sank. She could already tell that this reunion would be much different than all the others.
That afternoon, after the hot dog roast, Kelly couldn’t find Angie and Tricia anywhere. “They probably went horseback riding without me!”
“What are you doing, Kelly?” Mom asked. She sat down next to Kelly on the grass, balancing baby Michael in one arm and a juicy slice of watermelon in her other hand.
“Nothing,” she said. “I think I’m going to walk down to the river and go wading.” The river had always been Kelly’s favorite place.
Mom’s smile disappeared. “That’s not such a good idea. Aunt Lizzie says that it’s been raining the past few weeks and that the water is so high you can touch it just by dipping your toes off the bridge.”
“Then I’ll sit on the bridge. I won’t get in the water.” Kelly wanted to be alone.
“I don’t think you should go near the river, not even to the bridge,” Mom said. “Why don’t you go get some watermelon and come back here? Michael and I will keep you company.”
“Oh, Mom.” Kelly pulled herself to her feet and headed for the backyard, even though she didn’t really want any watermelon.
“I’ll sneak off to the river, anyway,” she thought. “Mom will get talking with some aunt or uncle. She won’t notice if I don’t come back.”
Kelly decided to just keep going through the backyard and down to the river.
Don’t go to the river.
Kelly stopped in her tracks. Was the voice real or imagined? “But I want to!” she silently argued. “I’ll be careful.” She started walking again toward the dirt path that led to the bridge.
Mom said not to go.
Kelly frowned. She had been baptized a few months before, and she knew that the Holy Ghost could protect her from danger—if she listened to Him.
“I’m just feeling guilty because Mom would be worried,” Kelly reasoned to herself. “But she’ll never know. And I’ll be OK.”
Kelly passed a deserted picnic table with half-eaten watermelons and butcher knives on it. “Maybe I will have some watermelon. It’ll be nice to have a snack while I’m there.” Kelly swerved toward the table and grabbed a sticky knife. She jabbed the blade into the thick green rind.
“Ouch!”
The knife clattered onto the cutting board as blood seeped out of a cut on Kelly’s thumb. She felt dizzy. She knew the cut was deep.
“Are you OK?” Uncle Jeff ran to her side. Crying, Kelly showed him her bleeding thumb. “You might need stitches,” he said. He pulled a clean white handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped it around Kelly’s wound, and went to find her parents.
In Aunt Lizzie’s bathroom, Mom cleaned Kelly’s cut and bandaged it.
“Will I need stitches?” Kelly whimpered.
“I don’t think so.” Mom smoothed Kelly’s hair. “But you’d better stay inside and sit still for a while, so your thumb doesn’t start bleeding again.”
Angie and Tricia peeked through the bathroom doorway. “Kelly, we heard you got hurt,” Angie said.
Kelly nodded, holding up her thumb.
“Do you want to come play a board game with us?” Tricia asked.
Kelly smiled. “I’d like that.”
As the three girls made their way to Aunt Lizzie’s den, Angie and Tricia explained that Aunt Susan had made them take a nap after lunch. They hadn’t been hiding from Kelly after all!
The girls pulled a game off the bookshelf and settled onto the floor.
“I’m sorry about your thumb,” Angie said. “I heard your mom say that you can’t play outside—that means no wading or horseback riding or anything!”
“It’s OK,” Kelly said. She remembered the promptings she had received before picking up the knife. She imagined the roaring river, deep enough to cover her head. Perhaps some good had come from cutting her thumb after all.
She would never know what could have happened at the bridge. But she knew that the Holy Ghost would protect her if she listened to His promptings. A warm feeling of gratitude filled her heart. Even though she had wanted to disobey, Heavenly Father had protected her this time so that she could learn to listen. She remembered her Primary teacher saying that when you ignore the Holy Ghost, He leaves. Kelly never wanted that to happen.
“Heavenly Father,” she prayed silently, “I will listen to the Holy Ghost—the first time—from now on.”