Gospel Story Finder

He was leaving. His meager belongings tucked into his school backpack, Makoto slipped out of his room and down the hall. The morning sun was creeping silently into the house. Shadows lingered in the living room like quiet storm clouds after a summer rain. He would soon be free.
“Good morning, Makoto.”
Makoto stopped, hoping the shadows would swallow him whole.
“I said, ‘Good morning.’”
It was Grandfather, of course. No one else would have been up this early. Sometimes he wondered if the old man ever slept. “Good morning,” he answered meekly. It sounded like a surrender.
“You’re up early,” remarked Grandfather. “I usually don’t have company at this time of the day. Come sit with me for a moment.”
Makoto sighed and crossed the room. Grandfather sat on the floor, a book leaning against his chest. It occurred to Makoto that it was still too dark to read. He crouched on the floor, expecting the old man to ask him where he was going so early in the day. But Grandfather sat motionless, making Makoto feel very uncomfortable.
“I’m—I’m leaving,” Makoto stammered in confusion.
“Ahhh,” Grandfather acknowledged.
“Leaving. Yes, yes, Makoto, so you are. But it’s not enough that one leaves. One must have somewhere to go. Where are you going, Makoto?”
“It’s boring here in Kyoto,” Makoto blurted out. “I’ve seen everything, done everything. Now I want to see the world.” He wondered if this sounded as silly to Grandfather as it did to him right then—an eleven-year-old boy wanting to see the world.
“Good,” Grandfather replied. “It’s good to see the world. But have you any money with which to see it?”
“A little.”
“Well, it’s expensive to see the world. You’ll need money for trains, food, and places to stay. I could lend you some money.”
Makoto hadn’t expected this. Was Grandfather actually going to assist his escape? “I could use a little more,” he admitted.
“Well then, you shall have it,” Grandfather said, “just as soon as you answer a very simple question for me.”
Makoto winced. He felt as if he were being cleverly pulled into a bargain he could not win. Nevertheless, he did need the money. “All right.”
“It’s about the garden in the center of the house. You know the one I mean?”
Of course he knew. There were small palms and other trees, bamboo, many flowers, massive rocks tucked into corners, and a stone lantern near a pond topped with yellow and purple lotus flowers beneath which swam silver and white carp.
“Well, in the east corner of the garden is a chrysanthemum in a pot. Tell me, what insect makes its home in the leaves but does not consume them?”
Makoto knew the plant. At least he thought he did. He had seen it hundreds of times. “I’m not sure,” he finally admitted. “I mean … I guess I don’t know.”
“Too bad. We can try again tomorrow if you wish. It will be our arrangement.”
The light of day was beginning to scatter the shadows, and Makoto thought he saw Grandfather smile.
He would not be fooled again. For the rest of the day, Makoto scoured the garden, searching for the answers to the questions Grandfather might pose. He memorized every bush and tree, every rock formation, and the location of as many insects as he could find. When dusk ended his day-long study, he confidently left the garden and collapsed into his bed.
It was a new day. Makoto arose silently and dressed. His arms and legs ached, though he wasn’t sure why. Had yesterday’s expedition to the garden done this to him, he wondered. It didn’t matter. He would answer Grandfather’s question, get the money, and leave. The arrangement would come to a very quick end.
“A black beetle,” he stated matter-of-factly a few minutes later.
Grandfather nodded. “Yes, it is the black beetle that makes his home in the chrysanthemum. But that was yesterday’s question. Here is today’s. There is moss on the cherry tree. On which side of the trunk does it grow?”
Moss! He hadn’t noticed any moss. He had been looking at trees and bushes and insects. Was this a trick? Maybe there wasn’t any moss. Maybe there was moss but on a different tree. “I … I’m not sure,” he finally managed. “To tell the truth, I didn’t notice any moss at all.”
He could have guessed, of course. If there really was moss, it would have to be on the east, west, south, or north side. But somehow Makoto didn’t want to risk being wrong.
Grandfather chuckled softly and motioned for him to leave. He kept chuckling as Makoto steered his sore legs in the direction of the garden.
And so the arrangement continued. Makoto, on his hands and knees, scurried through the ferns and aspidistra—studying and memorizing every inch of the terrain. Each morning he had the answer to the previous day’s question. And each morning he would slink away, confounded by his grandfather’s latest query.
Weeks passed. And though it was difficult to pinpoint exactly when it had happened, Makoto found that he began looking forward to the daily quest.
Until one day. Makoto was propped on his elbows, watching two ladybugs wind their way lazily up the stem of a beautiful plantain lily, when the thought struck him like a peal of thunder. He had forgotten to present himself to Grandfather for a question!
That morning Makoto had dressed, quickly consumed some rice cakes, then headed to the tiny garden. He had completely forgotten about the arrangement.
Uneasy, he got to his feet. Feelings of embarrassment, anger, and dismay flooded over him.
Grandfather was sitting nearby on the porch, softly playing a bamboo flute. His eyes were closed.
Makoto quietly approached his mentor. “Are you awake?” he asked, realizing just how ridiculous the question was after he had asked it.
“Very awake,” Grandfather quietly remarked. “And waiting.”
Makoto wanted to ask what his grandfather was waiting for but thought better of it. Our arrangement, he reminded himself.
“I’m here for my question,” he announced finally.
“Hmmm, yes, our arrangement. I’d thought maybe you’d forgotten.”
Makoto shifted uneasily. At least Grandfather wasn’t smiling.
The old man hesitated. “The question is: What insect makes its home in the chrysanthemum but doesn’t eat the leaves?”
Makoto stepped back and almost stumbled. What kind of nonsense was this? Grandfather was asking a question to which he had the answer, a question he had asked before, the very first question he had asked. His heart beat wildly. He could answer the question, get the money, and leave Kyoto to see the world. It was as simple as that. That was the arrangement.
But something prevented him from speaking. His mind spun silken images of the garden before his eyes—the red plum blossoms, the persimmon and mulberry trees, the green waterfalls of moss on the rocks. Why hadn’t Grandfather asked about any of these?
A whole world was in the garden. His world. An exciting, ever-changing world, one he had only just begun to explore. “I—I’m not really sure,” he stammered, not looking at Grandfather. “I mean … I don’t know, Grandfather.”
“No? Well, perhaps the matter requires a bit more study, hmm?”
Makoto glanced at Grandfather, who winked at him. He couldn’t remember his grandfather ever winking at him before. The old man unfolded his legs, rose from the porch, and draped one of his arms over Makoto’s shoulders. “Let’s go to the garden,” he said softly. “There may be a few things that this old man can show you yet.”
Makoto smiled. He was sure that there would be.

Another bishop, who had been counseled that bishops need to allow other ward leaders to step up and do their duty, relates this experience: “A widow in our ward wanted to be visited by the bishop at least once a week. In her mind, only a visit from the bishop would do. I tried to see her as often as possible, but I had many responsibilities, including a young family. Finally, with one of my counselors, I went to see her again.
“As we talked, I felt prompted to say, ‘Dear sister, you know that as your bishop I love you. And because I love you so much, I have asked two of our faithful Melchizedek Priesthood holders and two of our wonderful Relief Society sisters to each check on you at least once a month, more often if needed. They will report back if you have any needs or concerns. Would that be all right?’ ‘Oh yes, bishop,’ she said. I asked if she would like to know their names, and she said yes. When I told her, she said, ‘Those are my home teachers and visiting teachers!’ And I said, ‘Now you understand the way the Lord has established for us to watch over you.’”

Two years ago, Sister Nelson and I visited Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, and Tahiti. Each of those island nations had experienced heavy rains for days. Members had fasted and prayed that their outdoor meetings would be protected from the rain.

In Samoa, Fiji, and Tahiti, just as the meetings began, the rain stopped. But in Tonga, the rain did not stop. Yet 13,000 faithful Saints came hours early to get a seat, waited patiently through a steady downpour, and then sat through a very wet two-hour meeting.

We saw vibrant faith at work among each of those islanders—faith sufficient to stop the rain and faith to persevere when the rain did not stop.

More money passes through Monica Draleau’s hands in a month than most of us will ever see. She works at a bank, of course, just down the road from Pepperell in Shirley, Massachusetts.
Working as a bank teller could be a temptation for some people, but Monica has had little problem keeping her fingers out of the cash box.
“The hardest part for me is remembering the promises I make to people,” Monica, 17, says as she files away a stack of bills. “They will ask for this or that looked up about their account by tomorrow. If their information isn’t ready when you say it will be they don’t look very highly on you. It’s a very small town, and stuff like that gets around quickly.”
And there are other ways to keep your word. Kids at school ask Monica how much money “so and so” makes. While it may be tempting to share the information, Monica respects the obligation she has to the customers.
“At the end of the banking day we have to take all our debits and credits and balance them,” Monica added. “You have to prove yourself—whether or not you handled yourself well and paid attention. That’s like tithing. Heavenly Father is going to ask for the same kind of account at the end of our lives.

The following year, at the dedication of the Lima Peru Temple, President Hinckley expressed concern about the absence of Brother Vidal, who had done so much to spread the gospel and strengthen the Church in Peru. Brother Vidal was authorized to travel to Lima from Quito and participate in the memorable spiritual experiences associated with the temple’s dedication.

The young women in one ward were inspired by the teachings of Sister Elaine S. Dalton, Young Women general president, on virtue: “Now is the time for each of us to arise and unfurl a banner to the world calling for a return to virtue.”1 The young women hiked a hill overlooking the town and raised gold banners symbolizing their pledge to be examples of virtue. Together they sang “High on the Mountain Top” (Hymns, no. 5).
These young women have raised their personal standards of righteousness. Their obedience has strengthened their testimonies and influenced others. Sister Dalton has said, “Never underestimate the power of your righteous influence.”2 And like a banner, the example of these young women waves to all the world.

Several months ago while visiting our children in another state, I walked with our two-and-one-half-year-old grandson from the chapel to the nursery. As he moved rather energetically down the hall, at least five people called him by name—teenagers, children, adults. “Hi, Benjamin,” “Hey, Benjamin,” “Morning, Benjamin.” My heart overflowed with gratitude that Benjamin is learning that he, as an individual, belongs to a ward family. Over a lifetime, ward families will do for him what his family alone cannot do.

Born in Semarang, Indonesia, in 1914, Julie was one of six children. Her father died when she was eight, and her Chinese mother, who had been disowned by her family for marrying a Dutchman, was unable to take care of her children. Julie lived with a foster family for several years until the family was reunited.
Julie finished school, earning a degree in education, and worked as a secretary until she met Rudolf Jacobs, whom she married in 1938. When World War II started, Rudolf, an experienced pilot, was called into action and soon became a Japanese prisoner of war.
Julie, pregnant with twins, was left to care for her infant son. As she struggled for the next three years to provide for her children, she sold knitting and other handiwork, trading everything she could to obtain food.
Rudolf returned from the prisoner-of-war camp very sick and underweight, and the family decided to move to the Netherlands, where better medical help was available. So in 1947 Julie left Indonesia, not realizing she would never return to the land of her birth.

I felt the Spirit when I was baptized. It made me want to choose the right. I was happy when I did what Jesus taught. When I went to the temple with my sister, my mom, and my dad, we were sealed and I was happy. We will be an eternal family if we do what is right.
Manuel R., age 9, El Salvador

Next, his journey took him to the enchanting rainforests and towering peaks of Fiji in the South Pacific, where he attended schools of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints near the Suva Fiji Temple. During his seven years there, he encountered numerous miracles brought about by the unwavering faith of the members. He vividly remembers a cyclone that threatened the rededication of the Suva Fiji Temple. He recalls, “We stopped the cultural show early and went home to wait out the storm. We were asked to pray that the storm would be redirected so that the rededication could happen the next day. The faith of the members was strong, and the temple was spared. Even though there was destruction across Suva and other parts of Fiji, the temple grounds were clean. Not a tree branch was out of place, and the rededication proceeded with tears of joy.”

Of all the preparations that are made for this exciting evening, the most important is making an effigy, or likeness, of Guy Fawkes. First, old clothes are collected, sometimes by asking around the neighborhood for them; then the making of the guy is begun. Two cloth sacks are stuffed with rags, sewn together to form the body and the head, then dressed with the collected old clothes. Next, the face is painted on to give the guy individual character. Finally, a hat is stuck on his head, and perhaps a scarf is wrapped around his neck “to keep him warm.” By adding these creative finishing touches, each guy is sure to look different from any other.
When the guy is finished, he is put in a wheelbarrow or pram (baby carriage) and pushed around from house to house in the neighborhood while his creators call out, “Penny for the guy! Penny for the guy!” If the neighbors think that the guy is especially clever, they throw sixpences and shillings into the wheelbarrow. This money is used to buy fireworks.
The next important preparation for Guy Fawkes night is to build a bonfire. A site is chosen, and the collecting begins. Flammable materials, such as fallen branches, leaves, and newspapers, are gathered and either dumped on the site or stored in a safe, dry place until the big night. The search for burnable material is carried on until the fire is lit on the evening of November 5.
Although children do most of the preparations for Guy Fawkes night, adults usually cook the traditional food that is eaten around the bonfire. Delicious candy, called treacle toffee, is made by boiling treacle, sugar, and butter together, then pouring the mixture into a shallow pan. When cool, the candy is broken into small pieces and is ready to eat. Another tasty treat that is eaten around the bonfire is parkin, a cake that is also made with treacle. Oats and different spices are sometimes added to give the cake an unusual flavor.
When Guy Fawkes night finally arrives, everyone gathers around the bonfire, waiting for the celebrations to begin. The fireworks are lined up like soldiers, and the guy is sitting in the wheelbarrow nearby. His short life will soon be over.
With a blast, the first rocket is fired into the sky. Heads tilt, and eyes gaze up at the patterns of lights as they fall through the damp night air. There are oohs and ahs as pretty Catherine wheels are set spinning and magic fountains spray their rainbow of colors. Jumping jacks are popping everywhere, and young children are waving sparklers. The air is filled with the smell of fireworks. Guy Fawkes night is in full swing.
Finally the bonfire is lit (from the bottom), and the treacle toffee and parkin are passed around. When the fire is burning well, the guy is lifted from the wheel-barrow and, with one mighty swing, tossed onto the unburned top of the bonfire. Then the flames reach the guy and begin to burn away his clothing. Only a few minutes later his body is completely consumed by the flames. Some of the crowd cheer, but others, particularly the children who spent several days making the guy, feel a little sad. The guy that they knew so well is gone.
But next year English children will again be heard happily shouting, “Penny for the guy! Penny for the guy!”

Hey, Ben, how’s your book report coming along?
Book report?
Yeah, the one that’s due tomorrow!
Oh no, I totally forgot!
Don’t worry about it. I just copied my report from a website. It’s so easy! You should do it too.
Should I copy this website? I want a good grade, but something doesn’t feel right about this.
Hey, bro. How’s it going?
I’ve got a book report due tomorrow, but I completely forgot about it. I want a good grade, but I don’t think I can get it without cheating. This is a big assignment, too. It could throw off my final grade for the class!
You know, I read something the other day that I think might help you. Check it out.
The prophet Elijah spoke to the people of the kingdom of Israel on mount Carmel. King Ahab and his priests led the people in wickedness because they had them worship a false god named Baal.
“How long halt ye between two opinions? if the Lord be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him” (1 Kings 18:21).
“If the Lord be God, follow him.”… I think I know what to do.
The next day.
I might not get the best grade. But I feel good knowing I chose to do what’s right.

(9) A 13-year-old Beehive class president in Ghana helps her friends do their household chores so they can attend church.

One morning a family gathered to study the scriptures as usual. As they gathered, the father felt a negative spirit: some members of the family did not look very excited to participate. They had family prayer, and as they started to read the scriptures, the father noticed that one of the children did not have her personal set of scriptures with her. He invited her to go to her room and bring her scriptures. She reluctantly did so, and after a period of time that seemed like an eternity, she returned, sat down, and said, “Do we really have to do this now?”
The father thought to himself that the enemy of all righteousness wanted to create problems so that they would not study the scriptures. The father, trying to stay calm, said, “Yes, we have to do this now because this is what the Lord wants us to do.”
She responded, “I don’t really want to do this now!”
The father then lost his patience, raised his voice, and said, “This is my home, and we will always read the scriptures in my home!”
The tone and volume of his words hurt his daughter, and with her scriptures in hand, she left the family circle, ran to her bedroom, and slammed the door. Thus ended the family scripture study—no harmony and little love being felt at home.
The father knew that he had done wrong, so he went to his own bedroom and knelt down to pray. He pleaded with the Lord for help, knowing that he had offended one of His children, a daughter whom he truly loved. He implored the Lord to restore the spirit of love and harmony at home and enable them to be able to continue studying the scriptures as a family. As he was praying, an idea came to his mind: “Go and say, ‘I’m sorry.’” He continued to pray earnestly, asking for the Spirit of the Lord to come back into his home. Once again the idea came: “Go and say, ‘I’m sorry.’”
He really wanted to be a good father and do the right thing, so he stood up and went to his daughter’s bedroom. He gently knocked on the door several times, and there was no answer. So he slowly opened the door and found his girl sobbing and crying on her bed. He kneeled next to her and said with a soft and tender voice, “I’m sorry. I apologize for what I did.” He repeated, “I’m sorry, I love you, and I don’t want to hurt you.” And then from the mouth of a child came the lesson that the Lord wanted to teach him.
She stopped crying, and after a brief silence, she took her scriptures into her hands and started to look up some verses. The father watched as those pure and delicate hands turned the pages of the scriptures, page after page. She came to the verses she sought and started to read very slowly with a soft voice: “For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.”1
While he was still kneeling next to her bed, humility overcame him as he thought to himself, “That scripture was written for me. She has taught me a great lesson.”
Then she turned her eyes to him and said, “I am sorry. I am sorry, Daddy.”
At that very moment the father realized she did not read that verse to apply that scripture to him, but she read it applying it to herself. He opened his arms and embraced her. Love and harmony had been restored in this sweet moment of reconciliation born of the word of God and the Holy Ghost. That scripture, which his daughter remembered from her own personal scripture study, had touched his heart with the fire of the Holy Ghost.

Hi, I’m Maryssa. And I have a question. About the gospel.
But it’s not the kind that can be answered with a quick appeal to the Topical Guide or even a chat with my institute teacher. It’s complex—beyond my spiritual understanding. This question has kept me up at night. It has made me ache inside. Really, it’s more a spiritual concern than an actual question. And it’s about my role as a woman in the Church.
As a woman, I’m always trying to better understand my place in God’s kingdom. For most of my life, I didn’t think about it much. But as I got older, I began to wonder about the differing roles of men and women in the Church. The more I thought about it, the more concerned I became about the imbalance I perceived. I knew that God is perfectly just and fair. But I couldn’t find a way to reconcile the differences I saw with my existing knowledge of His plan. It was like a puzzle piece that didn’t seem to fit.
So I began to search for answers. I studied the Creation and the Fall and pondered Eve’s choice in the garden. I contemplated my relationship with priesthood power and my future position in the family as a wife and mother. I attended the temple often, paying close attention and yearning for additional insight. But I often came away from these things with even more questions. I pleaded with God over and over for understanding. But my questions didn’t go away.
For months, they ate away at me. I knew that Satan wanted me to doubt my place as a daughter of God. And I knew I could find peace through Jesus Christ. So I continued to search for answers and pray for understanding.
One day, I was reading the Book of Mormon in the temple. I came across 1 Nephi 11:17: “I know that [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.”
It was such a simple verse, but it struck a chord in me. In my time of confusion, it was extremely validating to hear Nephi, one of my Book of Mormon heroes, admit that he didn’t know everything. I finally felt that it was OK if I didn’t understand everything about the gospel.
Nephi’s first declaration hit me even harder: “I know that [God] loveth his children.” To me, Nephi was saying, “I don’t know everything. But here’s what I do know: God loves us. And that’s enough for me.” I was reminded of what I knew all along: God loves all His children—His sons and His daughters alike. And the truth of His love is absolute. It’s the truth upon which everything else is founded. The truth that holds the universe together.
For the first time in a while, I felt peace. My questions still hadn’t been answered, but I didn’t feel lost anymore. I realized that God is in control. He doesn’t expect me to put my questions on the shelf and forget about them. But He does expect me to trust Him. In all of my truth-seeking, I have to remember who the source of all truth is. And I have to recognize that while I’m deliberating over a single piece of the puzzle, He holds the pieces I can’t see. He sees the big picture—the biggest picture. And someday I’ll see it too.
Since then I’ve kept searching for more insight into my questions. And answers come. In bits and fragments—but they come. I gain glimmers of understanding as I search the scriptures, as I “seek … out of the best books words of wisdom” (D&C 88:118), as I talk with people I trust, as I attend the temple, as I study the words of prophets and apostles, as I ponder and pray. Sometimes I still get discouraged. I still have bad days when I get overwhelmed by everything I don’t know. But when those doubts arise, I take a deep breath and a step back and remember what I do know. And that makes all the difference. Even the Savior “received not of the fulness at the first, but received grace for grace.” So, like Him, I will “continu[e] from grace to grace, until [I] receiv[e] a fulness” (D&C 93:12–13).
Maybe some of my questions won’t be answered for a long time. But Heavenly Father has promised that someday “the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (Isaiah 11:9). Someday “all things shall be revealed unto the children of men” (2 Nephi 27:11) and “nothing shall be withheld” (D&C 121:28). Someday I will have all the pieces to the puzzle, and it will all make sense.
Until then, I choose to trust in God, no matter how big or how numerous my questions are. I choose to say, “There is goodness here, and I will not abandon it. I will stand by the truth I have, because truth is worth protecting.”
Sometimes the answer is simple. But sometimes, finding answers takes a journey. I won’t give up on my quest to learn and follow God’s truth. I have a long way to go, but I know that Heavenly Father is with me every step of the way.

Temecula California Stake
Nearly 300 Primary children from the Temecula California Stake (above) gathered with their parents for a special meeting about the Savior. They learned more about how to follow Him in faith. The children accepted a challenge to read the four gospels of the New Testament before the end of the year.

I was busy gathering my things after teaching a Mia Maid lesson, and my husband, Garry, stood in the back of the room holding our one-year-old boy. Our three-year-old son, Zach, slipped past us into the crowded hall and followed someone toward the meetinghouse doors. Because my husband and I each thought the other had Zach, it took us a few minutes to realize he was missing.
Just as we realized he was gone, Zach appeared at the end of the hall. But something was wrong. His cheeks were red, he had tears streaming down his face, and he was clutching his right hand. Our bishop, who was ushering him toward us, looked concerned. A pit of guilt settled in my stomach. My son had gotten hurt, and I hadn’t been there to help him.
The bishop had heard Zach’s urgent cries and had hurried to his aid. Zach’s predicament was immediately clear, but the solution was not. His fingers had become wedged between the heavy outer door and its frame. Opening or closing the door only exacerbated the injury; the swing of the door further pinched his fingers and pulled his hand, causing significant pain.
As the bishop and a couple in the ward frantically tried to figure out how they could release Zach’s fingers, a brother from another ward that met in our building saw what was happening. He took a screwdriver from his pocket and inserted it into the space between the door and its frame. Then, using the screwdriver as a lever, he widened the gap enough to release Zach.
Amid sighs of relief, the brother explained that as he prepared for Sunday services that morning, he experienced what seemed like an odd prompting to bring a screwdriver to church. The impression was so strong and clear that he slipped the tool into the pocket of his dress pants.
This kind act of service resulting from heavenly inspiration touched me deeply and filled my heart with gratitude. Heavenly Father was watching over my three-year-old boy and prompted a good brother to respond.

Their mother served faithfully in the Church until the end of her life. Even in the hospital, suffering from stomach cancer, she was a missionary to the young woman in the next bed, introducing her to the gospel.

August 5, 1953: President David O. McKay broke ground for the Swiss Temple (now called the Bern Switzerland Temple). It was the first temple in Europe.

When an eighteen-month-old Bolivian boy, Danny, was flown to Primary Children’s Medical Center in Salt Lake City for corrective surgery on his feet and hips, Relief Society sisters devotedly cared for him during his three-month recovery period.

Holladay Utah North Stake Relief Society president Sharon Kasteler reports, “The sisters who cared for Danny have the heart of the gospel in their lives today because they have shared and given.”