Gospel Story Finder

Some of the most enjoyable times to young Latter-day Saints in Panama are when a few of them get together, hop on a train, and go see some of the countryside. Since many of their parents work for the Canal company or for the government in Panama, even the ordinary roadsides with their profusion of tropical plants and flowers are interesting to them.
Nik Kovalenko and Marie Tueller from Balboa on the Pacific coast and Jeff and Karen Ward from Fort Davis on the Atlantic coast took trains and met at a small interior station called Frijoles. Here they picked up a boat that took them to Barro Colorado, an island in the middle of Gatun Lake. It was created when the lake was filled during the construction of the canal in 1914 and has been a biological research reserve ever since. It is a great place to see many of the native plants and animals in their natural environment. As they walked along the carefully marked trails, the young people enjoyed the exotic, tropical foliage and wildlife. By being extra quiet and careful they were able to stalk a band of wild howling monkeys. These animals have large necks and put them to good use as they roar and howl in ferocious-sounding, lionlike noises at their visitors.
On their way home, the young people stopped at Summit Gardens where they could see many more of Panama’s plants and animals.

Consider the experience of Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve. Some years ago, Elder Oaks was living in Chicago when one night he was confronted by a young robber with a gun. Elder Oaks had no money to give him, no watch, nothing of value except his car—and his wife was in the car. Both Elder Oaks and his wife were at great risk. During the encounter, Elder Oaks had an opportunity to grab the gun without the likelihood of being shot. “I was taller and heavier than this young man,” Elder Oaks explains, “and at that time of my life was somewhat athletic. I had no doubt that I could prevail in a quick wrestling match if I could get his gun out of the contest.
“Just as I was about to make my move, I had a unique experience. I did not see anything or hear anything, but I knew something. I knew what would happen if I grabbed that gun. We would struggle, and I would turn the gun into that young man’s chest. It would fire, and he would die. I also knew that I must not have the blood of that young man on my conscience for the rest of my life.” (See New Era, Mar. 1994, 4.)
How should you react in a similar situation? Who knows? It would be a different time, a different robber, a different place. The point is that Elder Oaks had not conditioned himself to automatically react violently. But he had conditioned himself to listening to the still, small voice. So when the idea of grabbing the gun came to him, he was willing and able to be guided by the Spirit.
It’s also important to note that Elder Oaks had ended up in a dangerous area because he and his wife were taking another sister home from a Church activity. He certainly wasn’t looking for trouble. He had taken reasonable precautions, such as leaving Sister Oaks in a locked car and later making sure the street was clear before going back out to the car.

When I was in grade four, some of the kids in my class said that every recess they would play a game in the school field, but only a few kids were allowed. A bunch of kids, including me, were left out. For a couple of days I was bored because the friends I usually played with were playing with the kids in the school field. During those days, I played with some of the other kids in my class I didn’t know very well. I got to know them better, and I even became good friends with one of them! One day, one of the kids who played in the school field invited me to play with them. I asked her if my new friend could play too. She said my friend wasn’t allowed. I told her I couldn’t play with them. At recess I played with my new friend. I felt good inside, and I knew I had made the right choice.

Church basketball just wasn’t for me. After all, the Church was five miles away, I had no car, and besides, there was a chance to play on the local commercial league team with some fellows who were stars in high school. They always had some neat social activities, and besides, that’s where the action was. A party after every game!
Stan was captain of the ward team and always seemed friendly when I saw him at priesthood meeting a couple of times a month. Stan had an old model “A” Ford and lots of persistence. During those days of indecision, I’d find him parked in front of our house as I arrived home from school. He seemed willing to wait as long as necessary for me to eat, change, and then go off with him to the church for practice or a game. Stan’s mind was made up—I was going to play on the Church team that season, and play I did. The real victory was not in the regional championship, but rather in the lifelong friendship of those who were my teammates and the wholesome life-style that they provided for me. This has never changed since. Their influence was a significant factor in my preparation for a mission, a temple marriage, and the most precious thing in my life, the Church as a total involvement rather than just the occasional meeting as convenience lent itself. Thanks, Stan!

Elder Zivic faced another difficult decision when it came time to choose a vocation. For four straight years of secondary school, he had to take an additional end-of-year test in accounting because he did so poorly in the subject during the year.
“I really didn’t like accounting,” he says. But when he prayerfully considered his career path, he felt strongly that he should go into accounting. Trusting in the Lord, he received his accounting degree from the University of Buenos Aires and enjoyed a career as a certified public accountant.

David D’Arcy, 17, Adelaide. David was at a local shopping center when he and his friends were attacked by some other youth. “We were fighting,” he recalls with embarrassment. Suddenly the fight was broken up by the appearance of six men in suits, white shirts, and ties.
Later, a school friend introduced him to the missionaries—the same ones who had played peacemaker. David was baptized on his 17th birthday. “Those missionaries,” he says, “I love ’em.” Guess what David D’Arcy wants to be when he is 19.

In her book My Grandfather’s Blessings, Dr. Rachel Remen tells of becoming good friends with a couple and their young son, Kenny. When she visited, she would sit on the floor with Kenny and play with his two Hot Wheels cars. Sometimes she would have the one without a fender and he had the one with a door missing and sometimes vice versa. He loved those cars!
When a gas station chain offered a Hot Wheels car with every fill-up, she recruited the staff at her clinic to go to that particular station and collect the cars. As soon as she had all of the models, she wrapped them in a big box to take to Kenny. She hoped she wouldn’t offend his parents, who lived quite meagerly. Kenny excitedly opened the big box and took out the cars one by one. They filled the windowsills and even extended to the floor. What a collection! Later, while visiting the family, Rachel noticed Kenny just staring out the window. When she asked Kenny, “What’s the matter? Don’t you like your new cars?” he looked down very sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I guess I just don’t know how to love so many Hot Wheels.” (See “Owning” [2000], 60–61.)

I was making a poster for my homework and I got frustrated that I couldn’t draw what I was trying to draw, so I threw my pencil. My Mom suggested that I could read to calm down. I was going to read my favorite book, but then I felt like I should read the Friend instead. I read Matt and Mandy. It helped me feel better because Matt was having a bad day, but he tried to remember he was a child of God. I read it eight times, and I got a warm feeling. I know that Heavenly Father knows me and all my problems. If I will listen to the still, small voice, He will comfort and help me. I know I am a child of God.

“If the parents can’t attend the wedding, it’s important to get them very involved in everything else,” said Karen Foutz, whose parents were not recommend holders when she was married. Including the parents in the planning of wedding breakfasts or dinners, showers, and the reception can help. Karen made the occasion successful by letting her mother take care of most of the reception plans and having her grandmother sew her wedding dress. “That way, they felt like they were a part of everything, rather than feeling alienated from it all,” she said.

In the summer of 1825, Lafayette, the great French general of the Revolutionary War, came to Washington. As a young man, he had been an able assistant to Gen. George Washington. Now sixty-eight, Lafayette accepted President John Quincy Adams’ invitation to stay at the White House.
Wishing to show their warm friendship for the French general, people across the country sent him presents. Boxes and crates of all sizes and shapes arrived. One special messenger brought a rare collection of Louisiana swamp creatures, including ten speckled frogs and one live alligator! A White House bathroom was quickly made into a small aquarium where the alligator had the privacy of his own spotless bathtub!

“I was twenty-eight when I joined the Church, and I wanted to have my father’s permission. I went to him and asked for his blessing, and he said, ‘Let me sleep on it.’ The next morning, he said, ‘I have two questions for you. Number one: Have you really investigated this church?’
“‘Yes sir.’ I answered.
“‘Question number two: Are you really convinced that it’s true?’
“I said, ‘Yes.’
“‘Then you have to do it,’ he replied. ‘If you are convinced that something is right, you must do it.’
“His integrity was a strong influence in my life. I personally believe that everything has its roots in honesty.

Interfaith Scotland collaborated with Edinburgh Women’s Interfaith Group to organise their annual summer trip. A diverse group of 45 women from various faith backgrounds recently embarked upon a journey to the Kagyu Samye Ling Monastery in Scotland, a renowned Tibetan Buddhist Centre known for its peaceful environment and spiritual teachings.

The women departed from Edinburgh by bus and travelled the winding roads and through the beautiful green countryside that surrounds the River Esk before arriving at the location. They were joined by women from Glasgow and Ayrshire.

Located in the Scottish Borders, Samye Ling offers a perfect setting for reflection and introspection. Founded in 1967, Kagyu Samye Ling was the first Tibetan monastery in the West and it has expanded over the decades to include not only an impressive shrine room, meditation rooms, butter lamps and prayer wheels, but also monastic quarters, a tearoom and shop. The attendees, some of whom had never visited a Buddhist monastery before, engaged in a range of activities to foster understanding, mindfulness and spiritual growth. The women shared lunch in the shining sun and enjoyed each other’s company before taking a tour of the monastery’s stunning grounds, vegetable and flower gardens.

The highlight of the trip for many was attending the Mahakala prayers inside the temple. Mahakala prayers are often chanted to invoke blessings, protection, and guidance. The temple gleamed with ornate furnishings, bright paintings and vivid hues of red, yellow and gold.

Throughout the trip, the women shared their personal spiritual journeys, exchanged insights on common values such as compassion and respect for all beings, and discussed the unique challenges they face within their own communities. These candid conversations transcended religious boundaries and highlighted the universal quest for inner peace and understanding. As the trip concluded, the women left with renewed inspiration to continue interfaith dialogue with one attendee summarising the day as: “A wonderful day in the company of interfaith friends that was both educational and peaceful.”

I recall a story of a Latter-day Saint boy in military service. He was the only Latter-day Saint in his barracks, and he soon wearied of the jibes of his associates. One day when the going was particularly rough, he finally agreed to go into town with the crowd. But as they entered the town, there came before his mind’s eye a picture. He saw the kitchen of his home. It was supper time. There was his family, kneeling at the kitchen chairs—his father, mother, two sisters, and a small brother. The little brother was praying, and he was asking our Heavenly Father to look after his brother in the military.
That mental picture did it. The young man turned away from the crowd. The prayer of that little brother, of that family, brought clarity of mind and courage to that Latter-day Saint youth.

Not long ago the level of my humility and understanding of my dependence on the Lord was once again tested. I was in a taxi going to the airport to catch a short flight to a place where there was a very difficult situation to solve. The taxi driver, who was not a member of the Church, looked at me through the mirror and said, “I can see you’re not well today!”
“Could you tell?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said. Then he said something like, “You actually have a very negative halo around you!”
I explained to him that I had quite a hard situation to deal with, and he then asked me, “Have you done everything in your power to solve this?”
I responded I had done everything I could.
He then said something I have never forgotten: “So leave this in God’s hands, and everything will work out fine.”
I confess that I was tempted to ask him, “Do you know who you’re talking to?” But I didn’t! What I did was humble myself before the Lord throughout that one-hour flight, asking for divine help. As I left the airplane, I learned that the difficult situation to be solved was already in order and that my presence wouldn’t even be necessary anymore.

As I headed back to Provo that Sunday night, I thought about Kelly, the young man that Elder Neal A. Maxwell had talked about that morning in stake conference. I had gone home from BYU for the weekend to attend the conference with my family. I needed a spiritual boost, and the conference was no disappointment. Elder Maxwell had talked about facing and overcoming challenges, and he had told us about a young man named Kelly.
Kelly had fought through many physical difficulties. He had been born without a jaw, chin or ear on the left side, and was operated on 11 times before graduating from high school. A jaw bone was made with bone from his hip, and an ear was also made for him.
For Kelly to serve a mission he had to have special permission to wear his hair over his ears. They were uneven because of the effect of gravity on his left ear, so they needed to be covered. He received permission to wear his hair longer, and he served a mission. He was now attending BYU. I hoped that I would get the chance to meet him. I was so impressed by his story that I wondered over and over if I had passed him on campus.
For weeks I thought about him and hoped I would meet him, but with 26,000 students and the semester nearing the end, it didn’t seem likely. I had mostly forgotten about it until one afternoon in my history class.
I was late that day. I hated being late, especially for my history class. Uncle Joe, as everyone called the professor, was the kind of teacher who could make just about anything interesting.
Every person in the class had to do an oral report on one of the presidents of the United States. Each class period we discussed the life of one of the presidents, and the student who had chosen to study that president started off the class discussion with his report.
As I slipped into the classroom and into a chair, I noticed who was up at the front of the class. It was that boy with the long hair. He had already given his oral report, so I couldn’t imagine what he was doing up in front of the class again. He didn’t look like the type that would have done another report for extra credit. “It doesn’t even matter that I’m late,” I thought as I arranged my books, “if it’s just him up there talking.”
I got settled and sat back to listen. “Why does he wear his hair so long?” I self-righteously wondered. “Doesn’t he know about the dress and grooming standards here?”
He was telling us his own story. “I was born without a jaw and had to have extensive surgery to have one made from bone from my hip. I had 11 major operations before …”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. An uncomfortable feeling was growing inside of me. It couldn’t be him!
I listened to much of the story that I had heard Elder Maxwell tell in stake conference. He spoke of gratitude and appreciation for health and the sweet, simple things of life. When he finished and sat down, Uncle Joe stood up and said, “Thank you, Kelly, for sharing your story with us.”
I don’t remember anything else we talked about that day. I sat there thinking about how much I had wanted to meet Kelly, and all semester long he’d been in my class. But from the first moment I saw him, I had counted him out as anyone I’d like to get to know because he looked a little bit different.
As I nervously waited after class to finally get to meet Kelly, the words came into my mind: “for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7). I realized I had almost missed meeting Kelly because I was looking in the wrong places.

Families signify responsibility to and for each other. This spring my seven-year-old grandson, David, called to see if I could come to his class’s spring concert because, he said, “I have a solo part.” It was on a Tuesday, my busiest day, but I promised I would try. On the day of the program, I was there, straining with his parents to identify our little David amidst the sea of faces framed by Mickey Mouse ears. David did have a solo; every child in the class had a solo. But the reward came at the end of the program when he bounded down the aisle saying, “Grandma, I knew you’d come.”

In the run-up to the wedding, I took the money I’d set aside for the wedding party and allocated it to going to the temple. We made the decision to totally self-fund our trip to the temple. We set an appointment with the temple in writing, and we traveled to Kinshasa in heavy rain. I couldn’t stop excitedly telling my wife, “We’re going to the Lord’s house and fulfilling our engagement promises”.

On the day of our sealing, while we were having photos taken with the family, I received instant payment from a client who owed me. Long before going to the holy temple, I worked off my contract and applied for a new position. After we were sealed, I was invited for the job tests and interviews, but was unable to go as I had no extra savings for the return ticket.

Three days after the sealing, I received a call from my boss asking if I was willing to work on a new project in Kamako by the border with Angola. After prayer, my dear wife told me that I had to take the job. The savings I had, which did not allow for a return ticket home by plane, were enough to cover the cost of my journey by road to my new job location, without having to take the test and interview. This was made possible by the grace of the Lord. So having a job without going through interviews was one of the first blessings received from the holy temple.

I wasn’t going to read my New Era last month, but I literally fell onto it and felt that maybe I was supposed to read it. I flipped through it and on page 37 of the March 1992 issue was my personal message for the month. The “Skin Deep” Mormonad hit home because for the last few months, whenever I looked in the mirror, I saw ugly brown hair, a bloated body, and blotchy skin. But now I’m happy to say that when I look in the mirror, all I see is a spirit, sent here by a loving God for some super-still-unknown reason.
Name WithheldSan Diego, California

The winter of 1846–47 was a busy one for the Saints at Winter Quarters. Plans were made for the next leg of their journey west. Supplies were gathered, old wagons repaired, and new ones built. It was decided that one company of men would leave in the spring to choose the best trail for those who would follow. By traveling without the elderly, the sick, or many children, they could travel faster. President Young picked the 144 men who would make the journey—twelve for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. One man, however, got sick shortly after leaving and returned to Winter Quarters, so the Pioneer Company consisted of 143 men (8 of them members of the Quorum of the Twelve), 3 women, and 2 children.
The men in this first company were skilled workers who could build and repair wagons, take care of the animals, hunt for food, keep accurate records, repair tools, build ferries, and lay out a new community and plant crops. They took with them a leather boat called the Revenue Cutter, 70 wagons and carriages, 93 horses, 52 mules, 66 oxen, 19 cows, 17 dogs, some chickens, and a cannon on wheels, which usually traveled at the end of the wagon train.
William Clayton was the official camp historian. To help direct those who would follow, he and others kept careful records of the camp’s travel. In order to calculate the distance traveled each day, he tied a piece of red flannel to a wagon’s wheel spoke and walked beside the wagon, counting the times the wheel turned. This was a tiresome task, and he proposed the idea for a mile counter. Orson Pratt designed the machine, and Appleton Harmon constructed it. This device, called an odometer, tallied ten miles, then started over. This made William’s job much easier.
It took the Pioneer Company 111 days to make the journey to the Salt Lake Valley. At first they traveled on the north side of the Platte River, through what is now Nebraska. The Oregon Trail was already established on the south side of the river, but the pioneers did not want to encounter old enemies who might be traveling west, and they hoped to find better grazing for their animals by staying on the less-traveled side.
Early in the journey, the pioneers established strict rules for their camp. When a bugle sounded each morning at 5:00 A.M., everyone was to arise and pray in his own wagon. The camp members then had two hours to cook breakfast, eat, feed their teams, and do other chores. At seven o’clock the bugle again sounded, and the company moved out. Each teamster was to stay near his team of oxen or horses. The other men in the camp were each to stay beside the wagon he was assigned to. All the men were to have a loaded gun in hand or within easy reach. No one was to leave his post without the permission of those over him.
The wagons traveled in double file. In case of an Indian attack, they were to form a circle, the mouth of each wagon facing out, with the horses and cattle tied inside the circle. At eight-thirty each evening the bugle sounded again to signal everyone to pray and prepare for bed. This discipline helped the pioneers deal with many of the problems they encountered.
Frequently there was a lack of grass for their animals to eat. It was the custom of the Plains Indians to set fire each spring to the old, dry grass from the previous year. Doing so helped a new growth of grass get a better and earlier start. But the pioneers were traveling before the new grass was up, and the buffalo herds had eaten most of whatever grass was left, so the camp members struggled each day to find a place where their animals could graze.
To help the companies that would follow them, records were kept of where good water, grass, and wood could be found. The men worked hard to level the road to make later travel easier. But on the Sabbath they rested from their labors to partake of the sacrament and to worship God.
As they traveled, the pioneers left signs for those who would follow. One sign on a cedar post read, “From Winter Quarters, 295 Miles, May 8th, ’47. Camp, all well. W. Clayton.”* Another message left on a bleached animal skull read, “Pioneers camped here June 23rd, 1847 making 15 miles today All well Brigham Young.” Letters to loved ones were also sent with trappers or other travelers who were headed east.
Several times during the trip, the pioneers talked with mountain men. Jim Bridger discouraged them from settling all the Saints in the Salt Lake Valley until they knew if grain could be grown there. He didn’t think it could, and he offered a thousand dollars for the first bushel of corn grown. But God was leading the Saints. President Young told Bridger, “Wait a little, and we will show you.”
While camped on the Bear River, Brigham Young contracted mountain fever and became so ill that he could not continue to travel. It was decided that eight wagons and several men would stay behind with him and the rest would go on. But as the main group moved on, others were stricken with the fever. It was decided to let the sick rest while an advance company with twenty-three wagons and forty-two men led by Orson Pratt scouted out the best route through the mountains.
The advance party found the Donner Trail, made the year before, and began to follow it. The trail was very rough, so the men spent much of their time clearing trees and leveling the ground for those behind them.
On July 21, 1847, Orson Pratt and Erastus Snow went down Emigration Canyon ahead of the others to scout out the area. Having only one horse, they took turns walking and riding. A few miles from the mouth of the canyon, Erastus realized that his coat had fallen off the horse’s saddle. He took the horse and turned back to find it. Orson walked on alone and became the first of the pioneers to set foot in the Salt Lake Valley. He and Erastus returned to camp, and the next day the advance company entered the Salt Lake Valley and headed north.
On July 23 they traveled to an area near where the Salt Lake Temple now stands. Orson Pratt called everyone together and led them in a prayer of thanksgiving and of dedicating themselves and the land to the Lord. After the prayer, the men immediately went to work unpacking the wagons, establishing a settlement, and plowing the dry, hard land so that it could be planted. On that same day, Brigham Young and his group crossed Big Mountain. From its summit, President Young looked out of the carriage he was riding in and declared, “This is the right place. Drive on.” The next day, July 24, the last of the company arrived in the valley.
July 25, 1847, was the Sabbath. The Saints worshipped and gave thanks for their safe journey. It had been a long trip, and for many years Saints would continue to sacrifice to cross the plains—but at last a place had been found where The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could prosper.

Thank you for publishing such a wonderful magazine. It has changed my life. I am not a member of the Church because my parents won’t allow me to be baptized. But my best friend sent me a subscription, and when I read the first issue I realized how much was missing in my life. When I told my parents I wanted to attend church, they told me I wasn’t old enough to make such decisions (at the time I was 13). This fall I hope to attend early-morning seminary and to attend church regularly. Without the New Era, I doubt I would have had the courage to find the truth.
Becky TeaterMansfield, Texas