Gospel Story Finder

Echo Hawk’s family belonged to the Pawnee tribe. When Echo Hawk was first born, his father named him Big Crow. But when Big Crow became a young man, the tribal elders wanted to give him a new name.
They had watched him grow, and they noticed all the good things he did. He was a brave warrior for his tribe. He was also kind and giving, not only to his own tribe but to other tribes as well.
A hawk is a very good hunter, just like Big Crow. The hawk is also a bird that does not sing, and Big Crow did not talk about his good deeds.
Because other members of the tribe talked about the good things Big Crow did, his deeds were “echoed” throughout the village. So the elders changed his name to Echo Hawk, or “the hawk whose deeds are echoed.”

After graduating with honors from high school, Bien studied political science at the Christian College of the Philippines. “We were talking in class about earthquakes,” Bien remembers, “laughing about getting caught in one.” Suddenly, the whole classroom swayed. It was an earthquake.

Terrified, everyone scrambled to escape. The building was dancing madly. Just as Bien was about to dash to safety through an open door, he was pinned by an avalanche of concrete.

“A broken chair jabbed at my stomach, one of my legs was in a half-kneeling posture, and I was face-down,” he remembers. His fractured right arm bled profusely under a block of collapsed flooring. Yet, incredibly, a huge chunk of fallen concrete had barely missed his head. “Classmates were crying for help, but I couldn’t budge,” Bien recalls. One by one they died, including three lying on Bien. The quake struck in late afternoon, and by evening it was pitch dark. Everything was silent.

“I cried,” Bien admits. But as he wept, a Primary song crossed his mind. He started singing “I Am a Child of God.” As each word pierced the silence, a feeling of peace came, a feeling that he was no longer alone. “I prayed, saying, ‘Father, if I still need to live, then please let me live.’” As he prayed, Bien remembered the Savior. “He suffered a lot more than I did,” Bien realized. The cave-in became a tremendous spiritual experience.

As the sun rose the following morning, so did Bien’s hopes. Rescue workers pried him from the rubble and carried him to safety. His relieved family was notified. Bien was rushed to a hospital. Doctors immediately amputated his right arm. “I woke up, looked at my right side and cried out, ‘What’s happening here?’ I thought I was dreaming.” Shock turned to sorrow. “I felt so lonely because I might not be able to do what I used to do.”

After three bedridden months, Bien went home. Nearly all of his 50 classmates had perished. It seemed the same thing happened to Bien’s will to live. How could he, a right-handed person, manage with just his left arm?

Irony may involve not only unexpected suffering but also undeserved suffering. We feel we deserved better, and yet we fared worse. We had other plans, even commendable plans. Did they not count? A physician, laboriously trained to help the sick, now, because of his own illness, cannot do so. For a period, a diligent prophet of the Lord was an “idle witness.” (Morm. 3:16.) Frustrating conditions keep more than a few of us from making our appointed rounds.

It has been about two months since I became a member of the Church, and I would like to say that I am grateful for the articles I read in the New Era. They help me live the gospel and become a better person. I am proud to tell you that my testimony of the Church is growing every day. This has happened because of prayer and reading the Book of Mormon and the New Era.
Stephen MumesulaJinja, Uganda

Ali S. says she learned to trust in the Lord. “There were so many times when I didn’t know what to do. I would open up the scriptures and find comfort. Two scriptures that really helped were Doctrine and Covenants 64, verses 29 and 33:
“Wherefore, as ye are agents, ye are on the Lord’s errand; and whatever ye do according to the will of the Lord is the Lord’s business. …
“Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.”

Text messaging can also be used as a tool for good. Three students at Skyline High School Seminary in Salt Lake City, Utah, shared these examples of ways they and others have put their thumb muscles to good use.

Mitch got a text message thanking him for something he did, and it made him feel good. Sending simple, positive messages doesn’t take long, but it can brighten someone’s day.

Shelley Thomsen, a Laurel in the Sherwood Park First Ward, Edmonton Alberta Bonnie Doon Stake, has an eye for fashion and a talent for making her visions into reality. When a local clothing manufacturer held a fashion design contest, one of Shelley’s dress designs made it to the final fashion show—an accomplishment Shelley never dreamed of.
“I just entered for fun,” says Shelley. “Making it to the finals and having them pay for the fabric and everything to actually make the dress was just an added bonus.”
Shelley had such a good time that she plans to enter again next year, but as for long-term goals, she has other things in mind.
“I think that maybe I’d like to be a sign-language interpreter. I would also really like to go on a sign-language mission. I think that would be neat.”

The day before Shan Harper of the Telford Ward in England was to participate in the Newcastle-Under-Lyme Stake sports day, she fell from her horse, caught her leg in one of the stirrups, and was dragged several feet. If she had decided not to participate in the sports events the next day, it would have been understandable. But Shan not only participated, she won three events! A Beehive, she beat all others in the 12–14 age group in the high jump and 100-meter race before running in the 800-meter race. To save time, it was decided to have all three age groups (which also included 15–17, and 18 on up) run the 800-meter race together. Shan again took first place, finishing yards ahead of all other competitors.

The untimely removal from Jackson County deeply concerned the Prophet. Not only had it brought suffering to the Saints, but it had interrupted plans to establish a central gathering place. He advised the exiles to continue their legal battle to recover their property and damages. The Saints asked the Missouri governor to provide a military escort as they reoccupied their homes, and he agreed, but said it would be the hostile Jackson County militia. Harassment of witnesses in the courts caused Church leaders to abandon that effort. They petitioned Andrew Jackson, president of the United States, but the government in Washington was strongly committed to a policy of states’ rights. Federal officials were unwilling to interfere in local affairs. Instead, they turned the question back to the state of Missouri.

The first few days she felt nervous around the children. She fell into sympathy, nearly immobilized by what she imagined was their pain. She began to see, though, mighty spirits peeking through their disabilities. And she saw they persisted. She also learned that they didn’t need someone to feel sorry for them. They needed someone who saw them as valuable and capable. They needed help, like the rest of us. The only difference was sometimes they had trouble getting others to understand what kind of help or how to give it. But then again, Jenny had begun to think, maybe that wasn’t so different from the rest of us.
The demands of the job caused her to collapse on her bed at the end of each day. But she felt a new strength breaking through her own pain.

Thank you so much for including the story “From Mission to Military” in the June 2006 issue. I have always wanted to join the Army. This article was my personal favorite because it taught me how important serving a mission is and how it affects you in the future and with others. I know the mental and physical effects of war are difficult. But by going to church every Sunday and reading the Book of Mormon, I know the Lord will help me in hard times.Daniel W., Michigan

When L‘Etoile (French) arrives in my mailbox, I immediately stop whatever I’m doing to read the magazine from cover to cover. I can’t help it. There is an irresistible urge to read the magazine, regardless of what I may have been doing.
In my city of Dieppe, there are 37,000 inhabitants but no branch of the Church. L‘Etoile helps sustain me spiritually until each Sunday I meet with the other members of the Rouen Ward, Paris Stake.
Olivier MaurouardDieppe, France

On Sunday morning of the Auckland Papatoetoe Stake April 2021 conference, while the chapel was still fairly empty, members of the Massey Park Ward filled the seats behind the pulpit to prepare for our final choir practice. In less than half an hour, we were going to perform the prelude song, to invite the Holy Spirit and to set the tone for our last session of conference.
At the piano, I waited for my cue. Our conductor, Brother Moroni Westerlund, readied our singers then waved in our choir’s first note—and my heart sank. We had practiced for months, but still, this song had not come together the way it should have.
Over my piano accompaniment, I could hear so many unsure voices. I heard parts fading out as sections gave in to their insecurity, and in my mind, I prayed: “But Heavenly Father, we tried so hard.”
As we proceeded with our last run through, I reflected on all our preparation for this day. Our bishop had eagerly accepted this stake choral assignment, with complete faith in his ward. Our music coordinator, Sister Benjy Maugatai, recruited her conductor and pianist, and then organised our music and called all our practices. We chose hymn arrangements that were beautiful but simple, because we knew that only a handful in our ward could read notes, and many had never even sung in a choir before.
But they showed up. Despite their many other commitments, our choir eventually got so big, they could barely fit on the stand and we had so many practices.
It was clear from early on we weren’t going to be a very polished choir, but for Brother Westerlund, as long as our singers were happy and trying their best, “Just let them sing,” he would say.
We completed our discouraging final rehearsal, and I looked at Brother Westerlund. He just smiled then addressed the choir one last time.
“We’re performing this music not to show off our skills,” he said, “but to share our testimony. While you sing, remember that someone in the congregation needs to feel your spirit and your faith. That is our true assignment here today.”
It wasn’t long before the chapel was packed, right to the back of the hall. While stake and area leaders took their seats, Brother Westerlund gestured for our choir to stand.
I started the piano introduction for our prelude hymn, and when the choir’s first note rang out, I could not believe my ears. It was a full, bold, harmonious sound! I looked up from my sheet music in awe. “Who is singing?”
Sure enough, it was our same group of beaming, faithful ward members, but as clear as the ray of sunshine that slipped through the chapel’s curtains just then, I also heard a host of unseen, accomplished singers bolstering the choir. Our prelude was beautiful. Our next two songs were just as lovely, and so was the sweet spirit that permeated our entire meeting.
I wasn’t the only one who recognized a miracle that day. Desmond Maugatai—one of our tenors—later said to me, “I can testify, when we started singing, I heard two new voices, one near my left shoulder, one on my right, and they were not anyone I know in our choir.”
Twelve-year-old Kayla Tagavaitau relayed a similar experience to her mother. It had been her first time in a ward choir, and after the conference she said, “Mum, it felt like when we were singing, the angels were singing with us.”
I’ve been a part of many church choirs over the years, but this one confirmed to me a pattern I have often noticed. When we do our best to learn the music, when we try our hardest to commit to practices, when we don’t give, up even through setbacks and frustrations, when we labour diligently, despite our weaknesses and, “after all we can do,” (2 Nephi 25:23), Heavenly Father can make up for our shortcomings, “that by his grace [we] may be perfect in Christ” (Moroni 10:32).
He can even send His angels to sing with us.

It was my privilege just over a month ago to dedicate the Gilbert Arizona Temple, a magnificent structure. The evening before the dedication, a cultural event was held at the nearby Discovery Park. Twelve thousand young people performed a 90-minute program. The dancing, the singing, and the musical performances were outstanding.
This area had been experiencing an especially dry season, and I believe many prayers had been sent heavenward over the preceding several weeks for much-needed rain. Unfortunately, it came just before the performance and stayed for the entire production! Despite the fact that the youth were soaked through with the rain and chilled from the cool temperature, we all felt the Spirit of the Lord. The theme of the program, “Live True to the Faith”—think about that: “Live True to the Faith”—was portrayed magnificently by smiling and enthusiastic young men and young women. Despite the cold and the rain, this was a faith-filled and inspiring experience these young people will ever treasure and will be relating to their children and grandchildren in the years to come.

It is sometimes amazing to see the difference this peace can have in the lives of those who accept it. While I was presiding over the Canada Toronto Mission many years ago, our missionaries began teaching a family that was in spiritual darkness. They were poor, uneducated, and their personal appearance reflected a lack of appreciation or concern for normal hygiene and grooming. But they were good, honorable people—among the honest in heart that we always pray for our missionaries to find—and they responded spiritually as they felt for the first time in their lives the peace the gospel offers.
When we learned that they were going to be baptized, Sister Ballard and I attended the baptismal service. I happened to be standing next to the bishop of the ward when the family arrived. In all honesty, I must tell you that they were quite a sight. They looked unkempt, unclean, and somewhat scruffy. Because he had been out of town for a period of time, the bishop had not yet met the newest members of his ward; so this first impression was, to say the least, unimpressive. As they walked away, I thought I could feel his knees begin to buckle.
I put my arm around this good bishop to give him my support—physically as well as spiritually. I felt prompted to say to him: “Bishop, isn’t this wonderful? We will make good Latter-day Saints out of them!”
He looked at me, and he smiled. I just couldn’t tell if he was smiling because he agreed with me, or if he thought that I might be just another overenthusiastic missionary.
The baptismal service proceeded, and the family was baptized. The next day, we decided to attend that ward to make sure the family was well received when they came to their meetings as new members of the Church.
As the family came into the chapel for sacrament meeting, I was sitting on the stand next to the bishop. The father was wearing a clean white shirt. It was not large enough for him to fasten the top button at the neck, and he was wearing a tie that I could remember seeing on one of my elders. But his face radiated with happiness and peace. The mother and daughters looked like they had been transformed from the previous day. Their dresses were not fancy, but they were clean and lovely. They, too, had that special gospel glow. The little boys wore white shirts that were several sizes too large for them, even with the sleeves rolled up. And they were wearing ties that almost extended down to their knees. It was obvious that the missionaries had put their own white shirts and ties on these little boys so they could come to sacrament meeting appropriately dressed.
They sat with their missionaries, and the light of the gospel literally shone from them. Alma describes this as “[receiving God’s] image in your countenances” (Alma 5:14). I leaned over to the bishop again and said: “See, Bishop? We will make Saints out of them!”
Of course, that overnight physical transformation was merely superficial when compared to the overwhelming, more significant spiritual transformation that took place in that family as the gospel entered their hearts and lives. Through the instruction of the missionaries and the subsequent fellowshipping of their good bishop and the ward members, this entire family emerged from spiritual darkness into gospel light and truth. In that light the family was warmed, refreshed, and revitalized by the peace that comes from knowing the Lord Jesus Christ lives. The light of the gospel truths restored to earth through the Prophet Joseph Smith began to show this family the way to the temple, where one year later they received their eternal blessings.

I have never painted a picture, composed a sonata, or won an award for acting. But I have been inspired by artists and their art. For example, these words from Dickens’s Christmas Carol never fail to inspire me, as they have inspired millions:
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will. …
“… would you know,” pursued the Ghost, “the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full and heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. …”
“But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,” faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.
“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”
Thus begins a great change in Ebeneezer Scrooge. And as he changes, many of us are changed. The greatness of this literary masterpiece is strengthened by the true message it shares.

I decided to enroll in early-morning seminary, and I was eager to learn. Every morning I woke up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready for school, and then I drove to the seminary building. I was amazed at how much I enjoyed early-morning seminary.
Halfway into my early-morning seminary experience, I grew tired of my usual music collection and decided to turn on the radio. I didn’t listen to the radio often, so I turned the station to a popular one that I knew my friends listened to. The station streamed fast-paced, popular music that I recognized from school dances. I decided it couldn’t be too bad, and I left it there for weeks. I wasn’t really listening to the music—it was mostly just background music while I focused on driving and thought about school. If I ever heard a bad word, I immediately turned the volume down and waited until the song was over before turning the volume back up and listening to a different song.
A gradual change started happening in me. I found that I didn’t want to go to Mutual activities and struggled to focus in church. I became increasingly irritated with my family. I didn’t want to go home, and I argued with my parents over things that didn’t really matter. I was frequently in a bad mood and I had no idea why.
One morning I was running late, and when I started my car, the radio blared with a popular song streaming through the speakers. I was getting tired of the song, so I started rummaging through my music collection, looking for music that I hadn’t listened to in a while. I had trouble finding something, and I kept thinking, “Just leave it, you’re already going to be late!” Still, I kept looking and settled on the soundtrack of a fun animated movie I enjoyed.
My mood changed. For one week I left that soundtrack playing in my car, and my mood immediately took a turn for the better. I focused on church more, eager to feel the Spirit and become closer to my Heavenly Father. Then one day, as I drove to seminary, I thought about what could have been the cause of my sudden sour mood and what had fixed it. I offered a prayer in my heart for the answer so I could prevent it from happening again.
Then it hit me: even though I hadn’t been listening to the messages of the lyrics, the songs played on the radio station I’d been listening to didn’t have an uplifting spirit to them. Even when the message wasn’t bad, the sound of the music was dark. The music, which I’d only left on for background music, had started affecting my spirit, without my even realizing it.
I’m not saying all popular music is bad, but I learned that day that it isn’t just the lyrics we need to focus on when choosing good music but also the feel of the music as well. I started asking, “If I just listen to the sound of it, how does it make me feel?” I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for teaching me this lesson. Music is a very powerful thing. Wholesome, spiritual music can bring us almost as close to our Heavenly Father as prayer does, but music that doesn’t possess these qualities can drive us dangerously far away from Him. I love music, but I love my Heavenly Father more, and I’m grateful He has provided music that brings us closer to Him.

Nate was walking home from school on Monday. He saw something shiny. It was a yellow truck in a sandbox. Yellow was his favorite color! He put the truck in his pocket.
At home, Nate took out the truck to play. But when he looked at it, he didn’t feel so good.
On Tuesday, Nate passed the sandbox again. This time he saw an orange truck.
This will go great with the yellow truck, Nate thought. He put it in his pocket. But when Nate got home, he felt bad inside.
The same thing happened Wednesday, when Nate took a purple truck.
On Thursday he took a green truck.
Each time he took a truck, Nate felt worse. But he still wanted to collect more.
On Friday, as Nate reached to grab a white truck from the sandbox, he heard a voice above him.
“I see you like trucks.”
Nate jumped back. A woman was smiling at him.
“My son, Cayden, is about your age,” the woman said. “He has been losing a lot of trucks lately. Do you know where they are?”
Nate gulped. He knew he was in trouble. But he also knew that telling the truth was the right thing.
“I have them at my house,” Nate said. “I’ll go get them!”
Nate ran home. He told Mom what had happened. They said a prayer. Nate told Heavenly Father he was sorry. He asked for the bad feelings to go away. Then they took the trucks back to the sandbox.
“Sorry I took your trucks,” Nate said to Cayden.
“Thanks for bringing them back,” Cayden said. “Want to play?”
Nate smiled and nodded. Playing with trucks had never been so fun. And next week, he would make better choices!

I was pleasantly surprised with the June New Era. Nearly every article related to my life. Many articles were on getting along with your family, and I have had a lot of trouble with this the past few months. I hadn’t been getting along with someone in my family, but I really wanted to get along with her. So I am thankful for the June New Era’s advice on getting along with my family. I will put these things into practice! Thanks heaps.Emily Whaite, Mount Barker Ward, Adelaide Australia Marion Stake

After my call to the Relief Society general presidency, I felt a desire to know more about the women who had served before me. I was impressed by the teachings of Sister Zina D. Young, first counselor in the second Relief Society general presidency. She said, “Sisters, it is for us to be wide awake to our duties.”1 I pondered on the words awake and duty and did some additional searching in the scriptures.