Gospel Story Finder

“At Summer Quarters we read the scriptures every night,” explains counselor Dan Kolilis. “Just last night we went out to the tents where the boys stay and had pop and chips with them. Then we read in the Book of Mormon about Jesus Christ blessing the little children. All of this year’s male counselors are returned missionaries, so we talked about our missions. Then we read the verse that says: ‘Therefore, go ye unto your homes, and ponder upon the things which I have said, and ask of the Father, in my name, that ye may understand’ (3 Ne. 17:3). It was the last night of the camp. We wanted them to go home, as we will go home, to think about how, with the gospel in their lives, the Lord will help them and guide them.”

Youth continued to strengthen the Church during the worldwide economic depression in the 1930s. The youth in Sydney’s Bankstown Branch had never heard of Mutual, so they organized their own social group, the Sunshine Club. When the mission president heard about it, he congratulated them on their initiative, then helped them organize an official youth program. Soon they were studying gospel lessons and learning dance, drama, speech, and music. Similar Mutual groups all over Australia organized hikes, balls, debates, plays, and concerts.

In 1851, Mary Murray Murdoch joined the Church in Scotland as a widow at age 67. A small woman at four feet seven inches (1.4 m) tall and barely 90 pounds (41 kg), she bore eight children, six of whom lived to maturity. Because of her size, her children and grandchildren affectionately called her “Wee Granny.”
Her son John Murdoch and his wife joined the Church and left for Utah in 1852 with their two small children. In spite of his family’s own hardships, four years later John sent his mother the necessary funds so she might join the family in Salt Lake City. With a hope much greater than her small size, Mary began the arduous journey west to Utah at age 73.
After a safe passage across the Atlantic, she ultimately joined the ill-fated Martin handcart company. On July 28 these handcart pioneers began the journey west. The suffering of this company is well known. Of the 576 members of the party, almost one-fourth died before they reached Utah. More would have perished if not for the rescue effort organized by President Brigham Young, who sent wagons and supplies to find the stranded, snowbound Saints.
Mary Murdoch died on October 2, 1856, near Chimney Rock, Nebraska. Here she succumbed to fatigue, exposure, and the hardships of the journey. Her frail body simply gave out under the physical hardships the Saints encountered. As she lay clinging to life, her thoughts were of her family in Utah. The last words of this faithful pioneer woman were “Tell John I died with my face toward Zion.” (See Kenneth W. Merrell, Scottish Shepherd: The Life and Times of John Murray Murdoch, Utah Pioneer [2006], 34, 39, 54, 77, 94–97, 103, 112–13, 115.)

Illustration by Jim Madsen
In October 2011, my bishop heard a talk by Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles about the Spirit of Elijah and the responsibility the youth have to serve through family history. My bishop was inspired by this talk and decided to have the bishopric youth committee watch it in their meeting. He asked the youth what they wanted to do to follow Elder Bednar’s instruction, and they told him they wanted to set up a summer indexing project. Together with the bishop, they set a goal of 50,000 names and invited my whole ward to help with the project.
I was asked by Brother Watts, a member of our bishopric, to serve as an indexing specialist. I accepted, but I had no idea what indexing was or how to do it. I was very confused and just a little bit nervous.
Brother Watts showed me how to use the indexing program on FamilySearch.org. He told me that he was absolutely confident we were going to reach our goal. Even though it was my first official assignment as a young woman, I was determined to learn how to do what I was asked to do by my priesthood leaders, no matter how hard it was.
I soon learned that indexing is part of family history—typing people’s names from records into a database so their family members can find them. I knew this effort was important, and so did my whole ward, especially my bishop.
To serve in this project, I showed many different people how to index and contribute names. By the end of the summer, the youth alone had finished 25,000 names! Before we knew it, we met our goal 100 percent.
I know that every one of my leaders is called of God to serve and direct the Church, and that when I listen to them, I’m not only doing what they ask me to do but also what God asks me to do. When I listen to and follow my leaders, I’m serving too—participating in the work of the priesthood, the work of salvation.

Mike winced as he heard Braden start telling a joke. Braden was saying the same bad word again and again. Mike wasn’t sure what to do. Mom had always told him that when other kids were using bad words he should either ask them to stop or just walk away. Mike asked Braden to stop, but Braden just ignored him. Because Mike’s seat on the bus was an assigned seat, he couldn’t walk away.
Mike sank down in his seat. He felt miserable. The more Braden talked, the worse Mike felt. He decided to try again. “Braden, could you stop …” But Braden just kept going with his joke. The bus had barely started its route, and Mike’s stop was one of the last.
Mike wondered how much trouble he would get in if he tried moving to a seat farther away from Braden. Just as he was getting ready to move, he had a thought. He knew that singing Primary songs in his mind had helped him before when he was scared. Could singing a song help now too? But even if Mike did sing a song, wouldn’t he still be able to hear Braden’s loud voice? As Braden started another joke, Mike decided it wouldn’t hurt to try.
“I am a child of God,” Mike sang in his mind, “and He has sent me here.” Braden was still talking, but Mike found that as he concentrated on the words of the song he was able to ignore Braden’s bad words. “Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear.”
Mike had a warm feeling in his heart. It felt like the song formed a kind of bubble around him. The bubble kept his good feelings in and bounced the bad words away. Even though Mike could still hear Braden’s voice, Braden’s words weren’t making him feel yucky anymore. The Holy Ghost was helping him feel better.
Mike finished the song and then sang it in his head a few more times before arriving at his bus stop. He ran off the bus and into his house. He was excited to tell Mom what he learned—that when you can’t get away from a bad situation, you can use good music to help your mind think of better things.

René Cyron:
“I grew up in a part-member family. I had to make up my mind early which way I would follow. I was impressed by the Bible stories my mother told me. I saw how my mom lived. I saw how my father’s family lived. I saw how people I admired at church lived. I knew that they followed the Savior’s way, and I decided to be baptized.
“Now when I make choices, I think of what I have learned of Him, and I try to emulate Him. He has shown me a more perfect way. He can help us develop and express the qualities within us. I would be miserable if I couldn’t change, but I know that through Him, change is possible.”

“Vroom, vroom, vroom!” Brandon pushed his red toy convertible across the kitchen floor, driving it around the table and under the chairs in a zigzag pattern.
“Vroom, vroom, vroom!” Daniel echoed, driving his blue sedan in the same pattern.
Brandon parked his car under his chair. “Mom, what are we having for breakfast?”
Daniel parked his car right next to Brandon’s. “Yeah, Mom, what are we having for breakfast?”
“How about pancakes?” Mom asked.
“Yea, pancakes!” Brandon cheered.
“Yea, pancakes!” Daniel cheered just as loud.
“Will you make me a car pancake?” Brandon asked.
“Yes, I will,” Mom said.
“Will you make me a car pancake too?” Daniel asked, climbing up on his chair.
Brandon frowned. “Why does Daniel always have to copy me?” he asked. “Everything I do, he has to do, and everything I say, he says.”
Mom smiled as she stirred pancake batter. “Little brothers like to follow big brothers because they think their big brothers are really special. When Daniel copies you, he feels special too.”
“But it bugs me, Mom.”
“I can understand that,” Mom said. “But remember that Daniel’s not trying to be annoying. He thinks you’re great, and he wants to be just like you. That’s why it’s important that you set a good example for him.”
Brandon shook his head. “Daniel is lucky that he doesn’t have a little brother to copy him all the time.”
Mom poured batter onto the hot griddle. A wonderful smell soon filled the room. “Brandon,” she said, “you aren’t the only big brother who has a younger brother imitating him. Don’t you like to build model jets just like the ones Jeffrey builds, and drive your train on the track he put together?”
“Yeah, but Jeffrey doesn’t care if I copy him,” Brandon said. “And besides, I don’t say the same thing every time.”
“Jeffrey doesn’t care if I copy him either,” Daniel added.
Mom laughed but then grew serious. “I can think of a person whom we honor when we try to follow His example. Do you know who I mean?”
“Who?” Brandon and Daniel asked together.
“Jesus Christ. Did you know that He is the Firstborn of Heavenly Father’s spirit children? He is our Savior and sets the example for us.”
“Oh yeah,” Brandon said. “You told us that before.”
“He wants us to follow Him. One of the reasons He came to earth was to show us the things we should do and how we should act. Can you think of some ways you can follow Jesus?” Mom asked.
“We can get baptized,” Daniel said.
“And love little children,” Brandon added.
“Good answers,” Mom said. “And how about little brothers? Do you think Jesus loves little brothers?”
“Yes,” they both answered.
“What kind of things do you think Jesus would do to show His love for little brothers?”
“Help them clean up,” Daniel said.
“Help them build things,” Brandon said.
Mom turned the pancakes over. “You’re both right,” she said. “When you help your brother, you’re treating him the way Jesus would treat him.”
“So I can follow Jesus by letting Daniel follow me?” Brandon asked.
“That’s right,” Mom said. “Whenever you treat someone with kindness you are following the Savior.”
“OK, Daniel,” Brandon said. “Should we both have syrup on our pancakes?”
“Yes!” Daniel exclaimed. “I like being like my brother!”

To get better acquainted with incoming young women, one stake Relief Society presidency cooks and serves a meal at Young Women camp each year. “We would go early enough to visit each ward site,” says Relief Society president Carolyn Rasmus of the Orem Utah North Stake. “We served something that required us to place the food item on their plates so we could interact with each young woman. I remember the girls commenting—positively—that we wore jeans, weren’t afraid to get dirty, and took the time to come to camp. We hope it provided an opportunity for them to see us as sisters who are approachable.”

The last rays of the sun dipped behind the mountain. I was miles from home, sitting on a cot in a faded green tent, wondering how I was going to solve the dilemma I was in.
It was the end of the first day of my summer job as a forest ranger in eastern Utah. That morning, I had met the two women I would be working and camping with. I was only 19; they were both in their 30s. But our differences were deeper than age. On the hike to base camp, I had hung back and listened to them talk about how strange they thought members of the Church were.
Now it was night, and my co-workers were both slipping into their sleeping bags. “Are you ready to turn the lantern off?” one of them asked me.
I had a decision to make. I hadn’t done my scripture reading for the day. But I also knew how the two women felt about members of the Church. I didn’t want them to laugh at me.
I silenced my conscience and nodded my assent. The light was extinguished, and soon the even breathing of my co-workers told me they were asleep.
But sleep evaded me. After tossing and turning, I grabbed a flashlight and my Book of Mormon and headed down to a meadow just below our campsite. “This is the perfect solution,” I said to myself. “I can read my scriptures without being made fun of.”
Happy with my plan, I turned to Mormon 8. The contentment I felt ended when I reached verse 38 and read, “Why are ye ashamed to take upon you the name of Christ? Why do ye not think that greater is the value of an endless happiness than that misery which never dies—because of the praise of the world?”
That night, as I sat under the brilliant stars in a mountain meadow, I knew the Lord was speaking to me. I had been too afraid of ridicule to show my co-workers what I believed, and the Lord was disappointed in me. Armed with this knowledge, I resolved I would change.
The next night, when my co-worker asked if I was ready to put out the lantern, my answer was different. I cleared my throat and said, “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to read the Book of Mormon for a few minutes.”
I steeled myself for her laughter, but it never came. “Oh, that’s fine,” she said. “Just turn the light off when you’re done.”
I’ve never forgotten the lesson I learned that night. For the first time, I understood how relentlessly Satan tries to make us feel that we won’t fit in if we do what we’re supposed to. Often, the ridicule we are so afraid of hearing never comes. We can never be examples for good unless we let the things we believe show through our actions.

The Pink Refrigerator, by Tim Egan. Dodsworth lives a dull life until he finds an old refrigerator in the junkyard with a magnet that just won’t come off. The magnet advises Dodsworth to “make pictures,” “read more,” and “make music.” Find out what other magic the refrigerator holds.

Here in my room
I notice a splash of gold at my feet.
I peer at it,
and laugh.
It is a leaf.
I pick it up and suddenly on impulse tear through the house,
leap off the porch
and into a thousand splashes of gold.
And millions have yet to fall.

I like the following poem, which is about love:
Which Loved Her Best?
“I love you, mother,” said little John;
Then, forgetting his work, his cap went on,
And he was off to the garden swing,
Leaving his mother the wood to bring.
“I love you, mother,” said rosy Nell;
“I love you better than tongue can tell”;
Then she teased and pouted full half the day,
Till her mother rejoiced when she went to play.
“I love you, mother,” said little Fan;
“Today I’ll help you all I can.
How glad I am that school doesn’t keep!”
So she rocked the baby till it fell asleep.
Then, stepping softly, she took the broom,
And swept the floor, and dusted the room;
Busy and happy all day was she,
Helpful and cheerful as child could be.
“I love you, mother,” again they said—
Three little children going to bed;
How do you think that mother guessed
Which of them really loved her best?
(Joy Allison, Highdays and Holidays, 133)

Recently while visiting a nursing care facility, I spoke with a woman about her family. She told me that she had three sons, two of whom visit her regularly.
“What about your third son?” I asked.
“I don’t know where he is,” she replied tearfully. “I haven’t heard from him for years. I don’t even know how many grandchildren I have.”
If such a mother yearns to hear from her sons, it is easy to see why a loving Father in Heaven wants to hear from His children. Through prayer, we can show our love for God. And He has made it so easy. We may pray to Him any time. No special equipment is needed. We don’t even need to charge batteries or pay a monthly service fee.

In the hospital one day I was wheeled out of the operating room by an attendant who stumbled, and there issued from his angry lips vicious cursing with a combination of the names of the Savior. Even half-conscious, I recoiled and implored: “Please! Please! That is my Lord whose names you revile.”
There was a deathly silence; then a subdued voice whispered, “I am sorry.” He had forgotten for the moment that the Lord had forcefully commanded all his people, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain” (Ex. 20:7).

We were swimming in the pool at a hotel and found a pocket watch at the bottom of the pool. We asked a lot of people if the watch belonged to them. They all said no. At the end of the day, we felt like we should go to the pool one more time with the watch. There was a family in the pool. We asked if the watch was theirs. They said it was, and they had been looking for it all week. It belonged to their dad, and it cost a lot of money. I’m glad we listened to the Holy Ghost so the watch could be returned.

A sister shared: “My daily experiences with Come, Follow Me are rarely noteworthy, but over time I can see how I am being changed by such a constant, focused study of the scriptures. That kind of study humbles me, teaches me, and changes me a little at a time.”

I once met a British dancer while traveling on a train in Finland. We were both happy to be speaking English, and as we chatted we asked each other questions: What are you doing in Finland? What do you believe? Learning of my beliefs, she asked, “You don’t smoke or drink? You don’t believe in premarital sex?” And throughout our conversation, she kept coming back to this subject, intrigued. “I suppose if you dated men who felt the same way, it would work out,” she said. And then later: “Are there any men who feel the same way?” She started off disdainful and ended up wistful. She was hungry for something she heard in our doctrine.

One young husband decided to find out for himself if the Church were true. He had observed the uplifting changes brought into the lives of his wife and children, who had joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints six years previously. He obtained a copy of the Book of Mormon and began reading. At first he felt nothing, but he continued to read. He remembered that he should pray as he read—that was the counsel the missionaries had given. For the next six evenings he continued to read and to pray. He continued to plead with the Lord to let him know the truths contained in these scriptures.
Two more evenings he continued, and then a deeply spiritual experience began to unfold. He found himself listening as he read. It was as though he were hearing the characters in the story speak rather than verbalizing the printed word himself. He continued to pray and to study. At the close of the tenth evening, he stated that he was now hearing the voices of the characters and feeling the spirit of their messages.
His continued effort brought him near to the Lord in his search for truth; he then received a testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon.

Elder Gay derives his greatest satisfaction from the humanitarian service he and Sister Gay have been blessed to render, both abroad and closer to home. For example, before and after serving as president of the Accra Ghana Mission from 2004 to 2007, he and Sister Gay worked in African villages and elsewhere to build schools and medical clinics and help develop literacy and micro-loan programs. Organizations they cofounded with other associates have helped lift millions of the poor around the globe.

The Bridge Dancers Maisie’s mother has gone across the dangerous old footbridge to help a woman who’s about to have a baby. Maisie and her sister, Callie, have been forbidden to go on the bridge, and Maisie is grateful because she is afraid of it. But when Callie has an accident, Maisie must cross the bridge. You’ll have to read this slim paperback to see how she succeeds after turning back from the bridge in fear.Carol Saller8–11 years