Gospel Story Finder

The Saints built a beautiful city in the Salt Lake Valley and spent 40 years building the Salt Lake Temple.

There is more than one way to help the Lord lift them to that standard. One is to express or show our displeasure. I’ve been the beneficiary of another way, the better way. I’ve sensed when I was not doing very well when I was speaking or teaching or leading in a meeting. Most people can tell when they are failing. I have been able to tell when I have been not doing well, and I’ve looked out and seen someone in the audience apparently not paying attention to me, with eyes closed. I’ve learned not to be irritated. And then they’ve opened their eyes and smiled at me, with a look of encouragement that was unmistakable. It was a look that said as clearly as if they had spoken to me: “I know the Lord will help you and lift you up. I’m praying for you.” I’ve been in settings where many people listening to me were doing that. And I was lifted beyond what I knew were my abilities, or at least what I had thought my abilities were. You could serve that way when you see people struggling in their service. It will take a lot of praying, but you could watch and you could strengthen, even when your only call in the Church at that moment is to be a follower of Jesus Christ and your only tools are to pray and smile and encourage.

Granny keeps a plastic pail
filled with colored chunks of chalk.
At her house she lets us draw
on the driveway, porch, and walk.
Sometimes it gets to be a mess,
but she says, “Never fear.
Just a whisk of water, and
it all will disappear.”
My brother drew a blue spaceship;
I filled in moon and stars.
Next I made yellow cats and dogs;
He drew green dinosaurs.
Granny traced around our shapes
from our head down to our toes.
Then we got up and colored in
our hair and eyes and clothes.
Granny loved our work and said,
“We’ll leave it for today.
This sidewalk art is much too nice
to simply wash away!”

Courage counts. This truth came to me in a most vivid and dramatic manner many years ago. I was serving as a bishop at the time. The general session of our stake conference was being held in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. Our stake presidency was to be reorganized. The Aaronic Priesthood, including members of bishoprics, were providing the music for the conference. As we concluded singing our first selection, President Joseph Fielding Smith, our conference visitor, stepped to the pulpit and read for sustaining approval the names of the new stake presidency. He then mentioned that Percy Fetzer, who became our new stake president, and John Burt, who became the first counselor—each of whom had been counselors in the previous presidency—had been made aware of their new callings before the conference began. However, he indicated that I, who had been called to be second counselor in the new presidency, had no previous knowledge of the calling and was hearing of it for the first time as my name was read for sustaining vote. He then announced, “If Brother Monson is willing to respond to this call, we will be pleased to hear from him now.”

As I stood at the pulpit and gazed out on that sea of faces, I remembered the song we had just sung. It pertained to the Word of Wisdom and was titled “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say No.” That day I selected as my acceptance theme “Have Courage, My Boy, to Say Yes.” The call for courage comes constantly to each of us—the courage to stand firm for our convictions, the courage to fulfill our responsibilities, the courage to honor our priesthood.

Luke looked out his bedroom window and thought about Dad. Dad was in the army and had been gone for months. Luke missed him every day. He wondered when Dad would be able to come home.
Then he remembered the talk he was supposed to give in Primary on Sunday. His stomach did a gigantic flip-flop, and it felt like he had swallowed a bag of rocks. He didn’t want to be nervous, but he was. If Dad were here, he could help.
At bedtime, Mom came in his room to say good night. “Love you forever,” she said.
“Mom,” Luke said, “I wish Dad could help me with my talk, but he’s too far away. I wish I could be brave like him.”
Mom sat next to Luke and pulled the covers around him. “I know,” she said. “I wish he could be here with us too, but he has a really important job to do right now, and when he’s done, he’ll come home. He loves us very much. Do you remember what he always tells us?”
“‘With a prayer, Heavenly Father is always there,’” Luke said.
“That’s right,” Mom said.
“Can we say a prayer?” Luke asked.
“Sure,” Mom said. “Would you like to say it?”
Luke got out of bed and knelt down. He thanked Heavenly Father for prayer and asked Him to protect Dad. Then he asked Heavenly Father to help him with his Primary talk and to help him be brave enough to give it.
When he got back in bed, Luke felt better. He knew he didn’t have to be nervous anymore. He was glad he knew how to pray to Heavenly Father. He gave Mom a big hug.
“I know Heavenly Father will help me be brave when I give my talk on Sunday,” Luke said.
“Brave like Dad?” Mom asked.
“Brave enough.” Luke smiled, and Mom smiled back.

But being an all-star can go to your head. Every now and then Scott has to remind himself what’s really important.
“Once you put the hockey jacket on it’s instant popularity,” he says after practice. Scott’s with his older brother, Troy. They sit cross-legged in their basement, trading hockey cards and playing video hockey. “Some of the guys think they’re pretty hot. Once in a while I might join them and put somebody down—let it go to my head. When I put somebody down I always end up thinking about my brother, Troy.”
Troy, 17, has had a slight motor-skills problem and learning disorder since birth. It’s not serious enough to affect his life much, but it does make him a little different from the other kids. “When he was in elementary school he got picked on a lot,” adds Scott. “I think about that and stop. I try to get the others to stop, too.”

Realizing the vital role remembering is to play in our lives, what else ought we to remember? In response, assembled as we are today to remember and rededicate this historic Tabernacle, I suggest that the history of the Church of Jesus Christ and its people deserves our remembrance. The scriptures give the Church’s history high priority. In fact, much of scripture is Church history. On the very day the Church was organized, God commanded Joseph Smith, “Behold, there shall be a record kept among you.” Joseph acted on this command by appointing Oliver Cowdery, the second elder in the Church and his chief assistant, as the first Church historian. We keep records to help us remember, and a record of the Church’s rise and progress has been kept from Oliver Cowdery’s time to the present day. This extraordinary historical record reminds us that God has again opened the heavens and revealed truths that call our generation to action.

Doug usually nodded pleasantly and then hurried past the two-story building where many elderly people sat on the front lawn. The people were frail and sad-looking, and most of them just sat there in the sun or shade watching the cars and people go by.
One day as Doug was walking home from school, a white-haired man with faded blue eyes suddenly reached out his hands. The sudden movement frightened Doug, and without thinking he moved to the edge of the sidewalk and started running.
Later that night Doug was ashamed of himself. All those people looked lonely, and probably the old man only needed a helping hand to rise to his feet.
The least I could have done was to stop and ask what the man wanted, Doug thought.
The next morning when Doug went out to feed his dog, Fluffy, he found the chain broken and his dog gone. After thoroughly searching the neighborhood, Doug decided to ask some of the elderly people if they had seen his dog.
He hurried around the corner to the Old Folks Home. And there was Fluffy, wildly wagging her tail while the old man who had frightened Doug the day before patted her.
The boy sighed with relief. “Thank you for finding my dog,” he cried as he dropped down on one knee to cuddle his pet.
“No use trying to talk to him, son,” another elderly man called. “He’s from Russia and can’t understand what you say anyway. We call him Nick because we can’t pronounce his real name. He’s nearly one hundred years old!”
Doug was suddenly filled with a mixture of feelings. He was relieved to find his dog but even more unhappy with himself when he remembered how he had felt the day before about this lonely old man whom Fluffy seemed to like so well. He felt even worse when he learned that the man had no known relatives and had never received a letter nor had a visitor.
Doug reached out and squeezed the old man’s arm in gratitude and sympathy. Then he picked up Fluffy and carried her home so he wouldn’t be late for school.
“Dad, do you know any Russian people?” Doug asked at supper that night.
“Russian? No, I don’t,” his father replied, looking surprised. “Why?”
Doug explained how he had met Nick. “He found Fluffy for me, and so I want to do something for him. It must be lonely not being able to communicate with anyone! I’m going to find someone who can speak Russian and ask him to visit Nick,” Doug said with determination.
“I wish I could help you, son, but I can’t,” his father said. “We have people of Polish and Italian descent in town, but I’ve never met any Russian families.”
Two nights later Doug was doing his homework when he thought of checking the telephone book. He found several long and difficult names, but when he called their numbers, he found they were all of some other nationality. None of them knew anyone who could speak Russian.
Doug began to stop by to visit Nick for a few moments every afternoon on his way home from school. The old man always seemed delighted to see him and enjoyed looking at his school work. On Saturday afternoons Doug brought Fluffy with him. Nick just smiled and nodded to Doug, but he talked softly to Fluffy as he patted her. After that he sometimes saved a piece of meat from his lunch for the dog.
How do you go about finding a Russian? Doug wondered, as he left the lonely old man each day.
One afternoon as he returned home, Doug thought of going to the university for help. He knew they had instructors from all over the world who taught different languages. So Doug raced to his room and wrote a long letter explaining about his friend Nick. He addressed and mailed it to the head of the university.
After almost two weeks went by without an answer, Doug had given up hope. But one evening a telephone call came for him. A man who spoke with an accent explained that he was a Russian touring the country with a group of Russian educators. One of the professors had told them about Doug’s letter. The man said he would be happy to go with Doug to visit his friend on Saturday afternoon.
The frail old man was in his chair as usual when Doug and the Russian educator reached the Old Folks Home. Nick was watching for Doug and Fluffy to appear around the corner, and he looked disappointed when he saw the boy wasn’t alone.
Doug smiled at Nick and then proudly said to the tall man beside him, “This is my friend Nick.”
The man bowed slightly, cupped Nick’s trembling hand in his strong ones, and began to speak.
Nick just stared, not daring to believe what he was hearing. His lips trembled and his eyes filled with tears. Then words started to pour out.
Nick’s excitement and his distinguished guest drew a group of other men. One of them brought a chair for Nick’s visitor. Although they couldn’t understand a word being said, they were all smiling as they watched Nick’s faded eyes sparkle while talking and listening.
Nick told the Russian visitor that his correct age was one hundred three and that he had left Russia over seventy years ago. Nick explained he had never learned English because he was a carpenter and had always worked and boarded with emigrants like himself.
The visitor gave Nick several newspapers in his language. He also gave Doug a simple Russian dictionary so he and Nick could really talk together.
Doug lay awake a long time that night. He was too happy to sleep. Finally he got out the new Russian dictionary and looked at the strange new words.
It will be great to talk with Nick, he thought, but we really don’t need words to be friends!

There isn’t a week that goes by in the Titahi Bay Ward without at least three investigators visiting the Young Women’s program. Whether they’re making chocolates or doing calligraphy at activity nights, or receiving a spiritual lesson and singing on Sundays, visiting the local LDS church has become the thing to do in this part of Wellington, New Zealand.
“It just sounded like fun, so I came,” says 15-year-old investigator Rita Davis, who was originally invited by Mia Maid Corrine Taurima. “And I just keep on coming.”
But the girls of the ward weren’t always so outgoing. It was music that brought them together as a unit, and music that helped them reach out to others. Once they started singing together, things changed. “It gave us a spiritual self-confidence,” says Irirangi McPhee, 16. All the girls agree that they feel extremely spiritual when they start singing together.
“It helps our testimonies grow when we sing,” says Irirangi. “And hopefully it helps others too.”

Several years ago, while preparing for a business trip, I began to experience chest pain. Out of concern, my wife decided to accompany me. On the first leg of our flight, the pain intensified to the point that it was difficult for me to breathe. When we landed, we left the airport and went to the local hospital, where, after multiple tests, the attending physician declared us safe to continue our travel.
We returned to the airport and boarded a flight to our final destination. As we were descending, the pilot came on the intercom and asked me to identify myself. The flight attendant approached, said they had just received an emergency call, and told me there was an ambulance waiting at the airport to take me to the hospital.
We boarded the ambulance and were rushed to the local emergency room. There we were met by two anxious doctors who explained that I had been misdiagnosed and actually had a serious pulmonary embolism, or blood clot, in my lung, which required immediate medical attention. The doctors informed us that many patients do not survive this condition. Knowing we were far from home and not sure if we were prepared for such life-altering events, the doctors said that if there was anything in our lives that we needed to consider, now was the time.
I remember well how almost instantaneously in that anxious moment, my entire perspective changed. What seemed so important just moments earlier was now of little interest. My mind raced away from the comfort and cares of this life to an eternal perspective—thoughts of family, children, my wife, and ultimately an assessment of my own life.
How were we doing as a family and individually? Were we living our lives consistent with the covenants we had made and the Lord’s expectations, or had we perhaps unintentionally allowed the cares of the world to distract us from those things which matter most?

I conclude with an example in my own life. Once I had a treasured friend who seemed to experience more of life’s troubles and frustrations than he could bear. Finally he lay in the hospital, terminally ill. I knew not that he was there.
Sister Monson and I had gone to that same hospital to visit another person who was very ill. As we exited the hospital and proceeded to where our car was parked, I felt the distinct impression to return and make inquiry concerning whether Hyrum Adams might be a patient there. Long years before, I had learned never, never, to postpone a prompting from the Lord. It was late, but a check with the desk clerk confirmed that indeed Hyrum was a patient.
We proceeded to his room, knocked on the door, and opened it. We were not prepared for the sight that awaited us. Balloon bouquets were everywhere. Prominently displayed on the wall was a poster with the words “Happy Birthday” written on it. Hyrum was sitting up in his hospital bed, his family members by his side. When he saw us, he said, “Why, Brother Monson, how in the world did you know that this is my birthday?” I smiled but I left the question unanswered.
Those in the room who held the Melchizedek Priesthood surrounded this, their father and my friend, and a priesthood blessing was given.
After tears were shed, smiles of gratitude exchanged, and tender hugs received and given, I leaned over to Hyrum and spoke softly to him: “Hyrum, remember the words of the Lord, for they will sustain you. He promised, ‘I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.’”

3. Liken living the gospel to taking a spelling test. Usually the teacher gives us the words beforehand and helps us learn to spell the words by giving us worksheets or drills. A teacher truly wants his or her students to learn to spell the words and to do well on the test. Similarly, Heavenly Father wants us to do well on our test here on earth. He wants us to live worthy to return to Him. Just as the teacher gives us the words beforehand, Heavenly Father has told us the things that we need to do to enable us to live with Him. He helps us along the way.

Jana also finds time to serve her family.
“My grandma is 90 and lives alone,” she says. “It’s hard for her to go out anywhere. Last Christmas we did a lot of things to serve her, especially since it was her first Christmas without Grandpa. My grandma is always so excited when we come. It shows her that we love her.”

As I was leaving a Young Women camp this summer, a sweet young woman handed me a note. In it, she asked, “How can I tell when God is trying to tell me something?” I love her question. Our souls long for a connection with our heavenly home. We want to feel needed and useful. But at times we struggle to distinguish between our own thoughts and the gentle impressions of the Spirit. Prophets, ancient and modern, have taught that if something “invites and entices to do good, it comes from Christ.”

Invite the bishop to come to some of your youth activities. I can remember going on a campout when I was a bishop and falling asleep in the back of the bus. Somewhere there is a picture of me asleep with my mouth open and a wild flower placed inside. My own sons were part of the practical joke. We all grew closer together when the youth got me out of my blue suit and enjoyed some relaxing time with me. If the bishop knows how much you want him to be with you, he will try to find time to be part of your special activities.

Here is an experience from the April 2013 general conference:
Some 60 students from the Brigham Young University Jerusalem Center for Near Eastern Studies gathered on the shore of the Sea of Galilee last April to watch the Sunday morning session of general conference. A live Internet broadcast of the meeting was projected on the side of a shed located a short distance from the water. The students were in Galilee as part of a 10-day trip to the region. They recognized and appreciated the significance of the event.
Jennie Smithson, one of the students, said that it was a wonder “to be instructed by latter-day prophets and apostles while imagining ancient apostles being instructed on these exact same shores by Christ Himself.”

This story happened in Kenya.
How was Primary?
It was good. And I got my Friend magazine!
That’s great! Ready to go home?
Yep!
Hello!
Hello!
Reading the Friend makes me happy. Maybe it will make her happy too.
This is for you! It’s a magazine about Jesus Christ.
Thank you!
That was nice of you.
Thanks. I just wanted her to feel the happiness I feel when I learn about Jesus!
“Share the gospel. Be you and hold up the light.”
Elder Marcus B. Nash of the Seventy, “Hold Up Your Light,” Liahona, Nov. 2021, 72.
Thanks to Sasha O. for sharing her story!
How can you share the gospel with others?
Illustrations by Kelly Light

The Scouts participated in many other activities, like the “Teancum Challenge,” which involved scaling the fort and throwing a spear at a target (see Alma 51:31–37), and the “Antipus Course,” an obstacle course teaching the Young Men about Antipus’s army’s three-day march (see Alma 56).
“We learned how Antipus and the stripling warriors lured the Lamanites out of their fortress,” said Harrison Snyder, a deacon in the Ensign Ward. “We have to be strong and keep our fortress of righteousness around us. If we do, it will be easier to stay on the path and return to our Father in Heaven.”
As the young men went through the challenging obstacle course, they gained a greater appreciation for the Nephite warriors in the Book of Mormon. Bobby Blind, a teacher in the Powder Springs Ward, said, “I started to understand what they did and why. They were defending their families, homes, friends, and freedom.”

In a Friend magazine I read a story about a girl who made a visitor feel welcome. That Sunday we had a visitor in our ward, and I made a goal to always be kind to visitors or new members. I just got back from a vacation where I went to a different church building every week, and I remembered how I felt sitting by myself when no one would talk to me. Now I always try to make visitors feel welcome. I’m grateful for the chance I have to do this, and I hope it will help me grow closer to Heavenly Father.

Another thing that matters most is following the promptings of the Spirit in our most important relationships and in our efforts to love our neighbors as ourselves, including in our private and public ministries. I learned this lesson early in my life while serving as a bishop.
Late one cold, snowy winter evening, I was leaving my bishop’s office when I had a strong impression to visit an elderly widow in the ward. I glanced at my watch—it was 10:00 p.m. I reasoned that it was too late to make such a visit. And besides, it was snowing. I decided to visit this dear sister first thing in the morning rather than disturbing her at such a late hour. I drove home and went to bed but tossed and turned throughout the night because the Spirit was stirring me.
Early the next morning, I drove straight to the widow’s home. Her daughter answered the door and tearfully said, “Oh, Bishop, thank you for coming. Mother passed away two hours ago”—I was devastated. I will never forget the feelings of my heart. I wept. Who more than this dear widow deserved to have her bishop hold her hand, comfort her, and perhaps give her a final blessing? I missed that opportunity because I reasoned away this strong prompting from the Spirit.