Gospel Story Finder

We shall miss in this conference the strong voice of Elder Bruce R. McConkie, who passed away April 19, 1985. He bore his final testimony to the truth of this work when he spoke to us in conference last April. He was a dedicated scholar of the gospel and a fearless advocate of its message. Our lives were enriched and our understanding broadened by the logic of his presentation and the sincerity of his declaration. He spoke as an Apostle, a special witness of the Christ.

Two weeks after I got my driver’s license, my parents let me take the car for the whole day. I was ecstatic! I couldn’t wait to go driving around town. That morning in my prayers I had a strong feeling to pray for safety and that the Holy Spirit would guide and direct me. I hopped into the car and headed to town to do some shopping with my sister. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt driving. But I was uneasy. I had a feeling that at sometime during the day some sort of obstacle would be in the road and I would have to stop suddenly. I wondered if I was just nervous because it was my first time driving alone. I decided to drive slower than usual. I drove all day without incident but still had that feeling. When we headed home, it was dark out, and we had a 45-minute drive home in the country. I decided to drive about 5–10 miles under the speed limit. Just as I came around a bend, I saw a deer standing in the middle of the road. I had to quickly slam on my brakes to stop. I stopped a couple of feet in front of the deer, which just walked off, leaving us with our hearts pounding. I couldn’t believe how close it was. I know if I had not been warned by the Holy Ghost and had been going faster, I would have hit that deer. I am so grateful to have the Holy Ghost guiding and protecting me.

Easter was going to be different this year. There would be no Easter dinner at Grandma’s, no Easter baskets, and no dyed eggs. My parents were going on a cruise to the Caribbean. My brother was staying in Arizona, and my sister was at BYU. I was going to visit friends in Minnesota. I hadn’t seen them since we moved to Illinois six months before.
“This spring break is going to be great,” I thought. I hadn’t made many friends at my new home, so I was ready for some fun, even though I was still disappointed that I wouldn’t have a traditional Easter with my family.
On Easter Sunday I lazily flopped out of bed to get ready for church. It didn’t seem much different from every other Sunday until sacrament meeting. As I sat listening to the testimonies, I noticed the family sitting in front of me was one I used to babysit for. The kids were always fun to watch, and it was good to see them again.
Simeon, their young son, got up to bear his testimony. When he spoke, I could hear his voice shaking from fear, but he still went on. He bore testimony that Easter was not about eggs and candy, but it was about how Jesus Christ gave His life for us. He expressed his love and gratitude for the Savior and His sacrifice for us.
As the tears welled up in my eyes, pangs of guilt tore at my heart. I had forgotten what Easter is all about!
I didn’t get a chance to thank Simeon for his testimony, but as I drove back to my friend’s house, I continued to think about his words. “How many others learned this lesson today?” I thought.
I pulled off to the side of the road and prayed in gratitude for the Savior. I asked forgiveness for my shortsightedness. As I started driving again, I knew I would never forget what a little child taught me about Easter.

Manuel spent his day doing good things. Put his day in order by writing a number in the boxes to show what he did first, second, third, and fourth.
What good things can you do today?
Illustrations by Steve Kropp
Manuel helps his mom make breakfast.
Manuel listenes as his father reads the scriptures to the family.
Manuel prays before going to bed.
Manuel studies at school.

For most of my life, I considered myself an atheist. I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of life or what the point of it was, but I was happy enough.
But when I started going to college, I hit some bumps in the road. I wasn’t making the best decisions. I felt lost. A few years later, I reconnected with a few friends who were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I’d grown up with them and had always enjoyed their company, but I’d never felt like their way of living was for me.
When we caught each other up on our lives, all I saw was joy in their countenances. They had both gotten married and had kids, they had careers that were taking off, and most of all, they seemed to radiate goodness.
When I compared my life to theirs, I realized that my trajectory was way off. I was heading down a path I didn’t want to go down. I wanted life to have meaning, and I didn’t want to chase things that wouldn’t bring me happiness in the long run.
For the first time, I felt like something was missing in my life.
And I was pretty sure these friends had the missing piece.
As I started hanging out with these friends again, I realized that they weren’t finding joy and success just because they were members of the Church. But my friends’ sense of purpose in life and motivation to continue progressing was amazing. They were so loving and driven and had this endless energy. I didn’t understand what was making them live like this.
Eventually, though, I realized their zest for life came from following the basic principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. So I started asking questions, and my friends encouraged me to learn more.
As I learned about the gospel, it was strange at first. I didn’t have any spiritual beliefs to build on, but the truths of the gospel just started to click for me. I felt like life finally had purpose.
President Russell M. Nelson recently said: “My decision to follow Jesus Christ is the most important decision I have ever made. … That choice has made all the difference! That decision has made so many other decisions easier. That decision has given me purpose and direction. It has also helped me weather the storms of life.”
I’ve felt the same as I’ve chosen to follow Jesus Christ and get baptized.
Since joining the Church, my circumstances haven’t changed a ton. I still have a lot to figure out, but my overall feelings about life are completely different than they used to be.
Learning about the Savior, knowing my divine identity, and realizing we aren’t alone on this journey has helped me feel that same sense of peace and drive that my friends always have.
I have so much trust in our Heavenly Father, and I hold on to the idea that no matter what happens, He has my back. As I keep my covenants and strive to better align with my divine identity, I know He will be with me every step of the way. And if He is with me, I have nothing to fear.
President Nelson also testified: “Entering into a covenant relationship with God binds us to Him in a way that makes everything about life easier. Please do not misunderstand me: I did not say that making covenants makes life easy. In fact, expect opposition, because the adversary does not want you to discover the power of Jesus Christ. But yoking yourself with the Savior means you have access to His strength and redeeming power.”
I think that’s what living the gospel is all about. The gospel doesn’t make life easy, but it helps us create the earthly and eternal life God wants for us.
Despite unanswered questions, fear about the future, and setbacks, I see how the gospel gives us the guidelines we need to live the best life we can.

Before I was baptized in 2006, I had been participating in another church that my family belonged to. Initially I was afraid to talk about the Church to my family because I feared rejection. But when I began to place the Posters from the Liahona in a few places in our house, family members began to ask, “What is this picture about? What does it mean?” These questions made it easier to talk about what the Church offers to families. Through this means, my youngest sister was baptized, and now, while I’m on my mission, my father and mother write me saying how they love going to church.
Elder Almeida, 20, Brazil São Paulo East Mission

There are many ways we can serve others, even if we have little ourselves. Brother Natalio Virazapia lives alone in Córdoba, Argentina. He has little of this world’s goods, but his battered bicycle outside the home of a member who needs attention or next to a garden he has planted is an unmistakable indication of Brother Virazapia’s service. Even though he doesn’t have any land of his own, he always seems to find space to plant seeds, and the Lord blesses him with abundant harvests. His small gardens feed more than one family. “I can give service with this small body that takes me from one place to another,” he says.

Hsieh’s road to that goal was long and arduous. He attended a Catholic seminary in Wuhan for four years. Then he studied at a Catholic university in the capital city of Beijing [Peking]. A year later, the communists took over the city, and Hsieh escaped to Shanghai, where he attended the Aurora Jesuit University. When the communist forces invaded Shanghai, he moved to the Catholic seminary in Hong Kong. Then, because of the political situation, the seminary was transferred to Macao. While there, Hsieh was ordained a priest in the Catholic church.
Following his ordination, he was assigned to Rome, Italy, where he studied Italian, Latin, and law for four years. Next he moved to Paris, France, where he studied French, Greek, Hebrew, English, Spanish, and German so that he could better understand the original texts and the various translations of the Bible. He wanted to learn all he could about the Savior.
Finally, in 1967, Hsieh’s original desire to teach his people about Jesus Christ became a reality. Cardinal Yu Ping, president of Fu Jen Catholic University in Taipei, invited him to become a member of the faculty as a professor of philosophy and French. In this assignment, Hsieh began to share his growing testimony of Jesus Christ.

I know a good member of the Church who has a successful marriage and six beautiful children. She is trying to be the best companion she can be to her husband and the best mother she can be to her children. She is an effective Young Women leader in her ward. But sometimes she feels she isn’t good enough. She becomes discouraged and feels an emptiness of soul.
She came to me one day with her husband and described the powerlessness she feels at such times. She had discussed her concern with her priesthood leaders and especially her husband but had yet to find relief. I suggested that after her husband left for work and their children were in school, she find a place in her home and there reverently and humbly visit with Heavenly Father. I suggested that she express her gratitude to God for her blessings and then wait for His holy inspiration. She committed to do this daily.
Sometime later I received a letter from her. She said that as she went to her knees in those quiet moments each day and dropped her burden at Heavenly Father’s feet, He took her concerns away. She felt of her great worth to Him and learned more of “the healer’s art”4 as He healed her soul.

One way we can increase our help to the poor and the needy is to pay a generous fast offering. President Brigham Young (1801–77) said:
“The first year that I came into this valley I had not flour enough to last my family until harvest … , and persons were coming to my house every day for bread. I had the blues about [it] one day; I went down to the old fort and by the time I got back to my house I was completely cured. I said to my wife, ‘Do not let a person come here for food and go away empty handed, for if you do we shall suffer before harvest; but if you give to every individual that comes we shall have enough to last us through. …
“I intend to keep doing so, that my bread may hold out, for if I do not I shall come short.
“Do you believe that principle? I know it is true, because I have proven it so many times.”2

I am 19 and I love to read the New Era. I never used to read any Church magazines, but since I started reading the New Era it has changed my life and has helped me understand more about the Church and its teachings. It has also really helped me with the preparation for my mission that I am due to serve very soon. I love reading the beautiful stories and articles in this magazine. So thank you so much for making a great magazine which I can be proud to read every month.
Martin McGinlayLeyland, Lancashire, England (via e-mail)

Mom gave Tatsuki a hug. “Remember when you helped Yuna when she was crying yesterday?”
Tatsuki nodded. His sister had been sad, so he had made funny faces and played with her until she was happy again.

I recently attended a fireside with many young people from the Chicago area. In talking to them, I told of a young woman who gave a talk several years ago entitled “The Kind of a Woman I Want to Become.” It was excellent and was later published in the Improvement Era. A minister from the East read it and wrote for permission to publish it in pamphlet form. He said, “I want every mother and every mother’s daughter in my parish to read that article.”

Sam remembers that “as busy as he was at the State Department, Dad took time every night to coach and train me for a third-grade math competition that I wanted to be in, called ‘Challenge 24.’ He said if I won, we’d have a party with ice cream sundaes and 24 toppings.” Sam made it to the national finals but didn’t win. The Gong family had sundaes anyway. But it wasn’t easy to come up with 24 toppings—one was beef jerky.

Just two months ago, on Sunday, July 31, I was at Fort A. P. Hill, Virginia, attending an LDS sacrament meeting held during the National Scout Jamboree. My purpose in being there was to speak to the 5,000 Latter-day Saint young men and their leaders who had spent the previous week participating in the activities of the jamboree. They sat reverently in a natural amphitheater as an impressive 400-voice Aaronic Priesthood chorus sang:
A Mormon boy, a Mormon boy,
I am a Mormon boy.
I might be envied by a king,
For I am a Mormon boy.
The sacrament was blessed, with 65 priests officiating at the many large sacrament tables which had been placed throughout the assembled group. Approximately 180 deacons then passed the sacrament. Within the time it would take to handle the passing of the sacrament in a crowded ward chapel, this large gathering was served. What an awe-inspiring sight I witnessed that morning as these Aaronic Priesthood young men participated in this holy ordinance.

Antagonistic journalists made him the brunt of vilifying articles and defaming cartoons. His daughter Edith Eleanor recalled: “Some of the people at school had in their possession false reports and lies about Father. I went home from school furious one day. As soon as Father came in that evening I said to him, ‘Papa, why don’t you do something? You’re not doing one thing, and these mean men are taking advantage of you, printing all these lies.’” Her father smiled and said, “‘Baby, don’t get upset. They are not hurting me one bit; they are only hurting themselves. Don’t you know, Baby, that when someone tells a lie they are only hurting themselves more than anyone else?’”28

It has been an incredible day on the snow-covered mountain, the most challenging climb you and your buddies have ever attempted. Nearing the peak, you spot a deep crevice just ahead—the kind of crevice that can swallow up a hiker and leave no trace. Will you walk to the edge of the slippery slope and risk everything? Will you warn those behind you or let them take their chances?

Kevin and Brandon were fortunate enough to play on the same varsity team for two years before Brandon graduated. They decided in younger years that they’d always keep the Word of Wisdom as outlined in Doctrine and Covenants 89. As two of only a few members of the Church in their school, they were in the minority of young men who lived such high health standards.

“One of the biggest downsides of the sport is the atmosphere,” says Kevin. A lot of the players would party hard outside of practice, including some smoking and drinking. When it came time to pull off a six-mile run for practice, those same players often had a harder time keeping up. The brothers’ commitment to the Word of Wisdom and good health “really showed during our play on the field and during practice,” says Kevin.

Brandon, in an email from his mission, says, “I have no doubt that a huge part of [our success in lacrosse] was because God blessed us with health because we lived the Word of Wisdom.”

Another item of remarkable consequence, emphasized in this millennial year, is the building of temples. It has been a miracle. Last Sunday we dedicated in Boston, Massachusetts, the 100th working temple of the Church.

I came into the First Presidency in July of 1981 as a counselor to President Kimball. Since that time, 81 of these 100 temples have been dedicated. Only 19 were operating before then.

Fifty-three new temples, more than half of the 100 now in operation, have been dedicated since I was ordained President of the Church five years ago. I mention this only to remind you of the acceleration of this dramatic expansion.

When I announced in conference that I hoped we would see the dedication of the 100th operating temple before the end of the year 2000, I wondered if it were possible. I cannot say enough of thanks to the many men and women who have worked so long and so hard to bring this miracle to pass. Some of these new temples are smaller. But every ordinance that can be performed in the Salt Lake Temple, the largest in the Church, can be performed in these smaller temples. They are devoted exclusively to ordinance work. They are beautiful structures, well built in every respect. And they have made possible a much easier journey to the house of the Lord for thousands upon thousands of our people.

We shall go on building them. We will dedicate three more before the end of the year. We will continue to build in the future, perhaps not at the scale we have worked on during the past year, but there will be a steady construction of these sacred houses to accommodate the needs of the people.

Primary lessons can sure stir things up! Last week Sister Pierson said that since we were all getting baptized this year, we should try to do what Jesus would want us to do and follow his example. “Melissa,” she asked me, “why did Jesus do things for other people?”
I said, “Because he loved them.”
So we talked about serving people out of love, not for thanks. Then Sister Pierson’s eyes started to sparkle, and Josey groaned because she knew that that meant that Sister Pierson had an assignment for us. “I would like each of you to do something for someone every single day this week,” she challenged us, “without their knowing. Small acts of service can make a big difference in peoples’ lives.”
Boy, would that be hard in my family. Mom and Dad notice everything we do, especially since they usually have to ask umpteen times before it gets done. They’d be really suspicious if things just started happening.
Monday after school, Mom said she had to take Jeanette, my big sister, to the doctor. As soon as she left, I peeked outside to see my brother, Billy, shooting baskets. I knew he wouldn’t be coming into the house for a while. I unloaded the dishwasher and put everything away exactly right. I even got the glasses up high without dropping one. It was really Billy’s turn to unload the dishwasher, but he waits until Mom’s practically yelling before he does it. This time Mom wouldn’t yell, and Billy would think she did it for him, and no one would guess that I’d done it.
It felt strange that evening—sort of peaceful. Billy did his homework without being told to, and Jeanette and Mom cheerfully cleared up after dinner. No one said anything about the dishes having been put away.
On Tuesday we made oatmeal-walnut-chocolate chip cookies. After we were finished, I took six out of the cookie jar, wrapped them in a napkin, and put them into a small paper bag. Mrs. Henderson next door is a widow and lives by herself. I know that she loves Mom’s cookies, so I put them on her doorstep, rang the bell, and ran behind some bushes to watch. She was really pleased when she found the cookies.
On Wednesday after school, I noticed Jeanette hadn’t made her bed, so I made it for her. It was hard because I had to get the bedspread tucked under the pillow just right so that there was still enough to pull over the top. I finally did it, but when I took one last look, there was a whole bunch of extra sheet hanging down on one side. I almost cried. I tucked it under the mattress, because I didn’t have the heart to start all over again, and I just hoped she wouldn’t guess that it was me who’d made the bed. When she came home that night, Jeanette didn’t say anything about it.
I got up the next morning, wondering if it was even worth doing anything, since nobody seemed to care. I mean, nobody had noticed anything enough to even ask who had done it! But I wanted to tell Sister Pierson that I had done the entire week, so I kept going.
Dad still had mud caked on his boots from last weekend, and I knew he’d need them again this Saturday, so when I got home from school, I found the old knife he uses as a scraper and spent a whole hour getting them clean again. Most of that time I was thinking that he’d better appreciate it.
Friday morning, my lunch was all fixed and ready to go when I got downstairs. I guess Mom did it—I even got cheese crackers! So I gave her an extra-big hug and felt good again. In the afternoon I quietly put all the clean clothes away while she was peeling carrots and potatoes for dinner, and I felt even better.
Saturday morning Billy and I got up early to watch cartoons. We get to do that until everybody’s up and it’s time to do chores. Dad came clomping in, in his boots, tickled Billy and me for a minute, then gave Mom a kiss. “Thanks for cleaning these off, Honey,” he said. “I’ve been putting it off all week.”
Mom looked surprised. “But I didn’t. I—”
But Dad had clumped out the door already. I just kept my eyes on the television and smiled inside, where Mom couldn’t see.
Mom let us watch TV an extra half-hour before she turned it off and said, “Get dressed—time for chores.” Her voice was happy, so we knew that it would be a fun workday instead of a drag.
I got all the way across my room to the dresser before I realized that someone had already made my bed—corners tucked up, sheets and blankets perfectly even, and my pillow all smoothed out. Downstairs, Mom was whistling. I smiled, inside and out. Little things do make a big difference. I’d have a lot to tell Sister Pierson on Sunday.