Gospel Story Finder

Everyone in Paul’s family has jobs to do on Thanksgiving Day. But when Paul’s sisters go to wake him up so that he can get started on his chores, Paul isn’t in his bed. Where’s Paul? To find out, start in the bedroom and follow each clue in order, then fill in the blanks of the last stanza with the first and last letters of each clue stanza and the first letter of the last stanza.
1 Annie and Chris went to wake Paul,
But he wasn’t in bed or out in the hall
Or in the closet with his yellow hedgehogs,
And his work clothes were gone, as well as his frogs.
2 “Look out the window and see if he’s there;
Search in each corner, under each chair.”
Then Annie told Chris, as she went out the door,
“If he’s not brushing his teeth, we’ll have to look more.”
3 Every inch of the bathroom was searched wall to wall,
But no trace of Paul could be found there at all.
“To the garden,” Chris said, we’ll quietly creep.
If he’s there, we will scare him. Now don’t make a peep.”
4 By the garden wall some flowers were missing—
In their place were Paul’s frogs, croaking and glistening!
Paul had picked flowers, his first chore done early.
His tracks led to the kitchen; they showed up quite clearly.
5 The vase in the kitchen held roses, one mum,
To place on the table when dinner would come.
Paul had left Mother without saying good-bye,
Taking some dishes from the cupboards up high.
6 Each dish was in place on the dining room table.
The napkins were folded—the best Paul was able.
Annie thought hard, then said, knitting her brow,
“Paul might be watching the TV by now.”
7 In his chair by the TV, Dad was quietly snoring,
The home team was losing; the game was quite boring.
“Who would watch this?” Annie asked with a grin,
“Perhaps Paul is playing a game in the den.”
8 Down in the den a warm fire had been built,
And on a card table puzzle pieces lay spilt.
The edge was all done, showing part of a zoo.
“He’s been here and gone. Now what shall we do?
9 “Will we ever find Paul?” Chris impatiently asked.
“Since his chores are all done, we could eat dinner at last.”
“Oh, I see him now,” Annie whispered real low.
“See him? He’s there—____________________________ _______________
Answer:

He traveled to Kirtland, Ohio, not because he wanted to learn about the Church, but because he wanted to learn this language, which a professor was teaching to Church leaders there. Soon after his arrival, Lorenzo was baptized.

After nearly two years in the refugee camp, her life took another turn. Muriel and the rest of her family moved to the United States to start a new chapter in a new land. For all she had seen and lived through, Muriel was still only eight years old.
That’s when her parents decided to find a new church to attend.
“My Mom and Dad always wanted to worship God and give thanks to Him,” Muriel says. “One Sunday, not long after we arrived in the United States, they said, ‘Let’s go look for a church.’”
They didn’t have to look far. While walking around town they came across two missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the street.
Before long, Muriel was baptized along with her parents. Muriel’s younger siblings were baptized once they were old enough.

“Bedtime!” Mommy called from upstairs.
Grace’s blonde curls bounced as she hopped up the stairs and into her room. She grabbed her fluffy stuffed bunny and jumped into bed. Then she jumped right back out again.
“Mommy, I can’t go to bed yet. I forgot something very important.”
Mommy smiled. “I think you’re right.”
Grace ran to her dresser and pulled out her favorite fuzzy pajamas. She put them on and slid back under the covers.
Suddenly she sat up . “I still forgot something very important.”
“I think you’re right,” Mommy answered patiently.
“I need a glass of milk. I always have milk before I go to bed.”
Mommy left and came back with a glass of cold milk. Grace drank every drop, then licked off her milk mustache.
“Now I’m ready for bed,” Grace said, snuggling deep into the warmth of her covers.
Only a second later, she popped out again. “Mommy, I still forgot something very important.
Mommy nodded. “I think you’re right.”
Grace hurried to the bathroom sink and brushed her teeth until they were shiny white. Then she washed her face and hands.
“Now I’m ready for bed.” Grace scampered back to her room and dove into her empty bed.
Before there was even time to say good night, she tumbled out again. “I still forgot something very important.”
“I think you’re right,” Mommy chuckled.
“I could never go to sleep without a hug and a kiss from my favorite people in the whole world.” She ran down the hall and bumped down the stairs to the living room. She pulled the newspaper out of Daddy’s hands and gave him a big bear hug and a kiss. Then she ran back up to her room, squeezed Mommy tight, and kissed her good night. “Now I’m ready for bed,” Grace said, crawling under her quilted covers and pulling them up to her eyes.
She pulled them right back down. “I still forgot something very important.”
“I think you’re right,” Mommy replied.
“I need a bedtime story. It will give me sweet dreams all night long.”
Mommy read Grace’s favorite fairy tale.
“Now I’m ready for bed,” Grace sighed. “I’m dressed in my warm pajamas. I had a yummy glass of milk. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I kissed Mommy and Daddy good night, and I heard my favorite bedtime story.”
Then Grace gasped and her eyes got big. “Mommy, I forgot the most important thing of all!”
“I know you did,” Mommy agreed.
Grace slipped out of bed onto her knees. She folded her arms, bowed her head, and closed her eyes. Her mother joined her. Then Grace said a prayer to Heavenly Father. She thanked Him for all that she had, and asked Him to bless her. Grace was glad to talk to Heavenly Father. She knew that He listened to her prayers. When she finished in the name of Jesus Christ, she felt warm inside. Happily she climbed back into bed. Mother tucked the covers under her chin and turned off the light.
Now I really am ready for bed, Grace thought as she drifted peacefully off to sleep.

Soon after his call to be an Apostle, President Benson was sent to this continent to help people who were left poor, hungry, and homeless after World War II.

In 1994, President Howard W. Hunter invited all members of the Church to “establish the temple … as the great symbol of [our] membership.” Later that same year, construction on the Bountiful Utah Temple was completed. Like many, we were anxious to take our young family to the open house prior to the dedication. We labored diligently to prepare our children to enter the temple, praying earnestly that they would have a spiritual experience so that the temple would become a focal point in their lives.
As we reverently walked through the temple, I found myself admiring the magnificent architecture, the elegant finishes, the light shining through towering windows, and many of the inspiring paintings. Every aspect of this sacred building was truly exquisite.
Stepping into the celestial room, I suddenly realized that our youngest son, six-year-old Ben, was clinging to my leg. He appeared anxious—perhaps even a little troubled.
“What’s wrong, Son?” I whispered.
“Daddy,” he replied, “what’s happening here? I’ve never felt this way before.”
Recognizing that this was likely the first time our young son had felt the influence of the Holy Ghost in such a powerful way, I knelt down on the floor next to him. While other visitors stepped around us, Ben and I spent several minutes, side by side, learning about the Holy Ghost together. I was amazed at the ease with which we were able to discuss his sacred feelings. As we talked, it became clear that what was most inspiring to Ben was not what he saw but what he felt—not the physical beauty around us but the still, small voice of the Spirit of God within his heart. I shared with him what I had learned from my own experiences, even as his childlike wonder reawakened in me a deep sense of gratitude for this unspeakable gift from God—the gift of the Holy Ghost.
In teaching our six-year-old son, Ben, I thought it important to differentiate between what he was feeling, which was the influence of the Holy Ghost, and the gift of the Holy Ghost, which he would receive after baptism. Before baptism, all honest and sincere seekers of truth can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost from time to time. However, the opportunity to receive the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost and the fulness of all the associated blessings is available only to worthy, baptized members who receive the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands through those holding the priesthood authority of God.
As I reflect back on my experience with Ben in the Bountiful Utah Temple, I have many sweet feelings and impressions. One clear recollection is that while I was absorbed in the grandeur of what I could see, a small child near my side was recognizing the powerful feelings in his heart. With a gentle reminder, I was invited not only to pause and kneel down but also to heed the Savior’s call to become as a little child—humble, meek, and ready to hear the still, small voice of His Spirit.

In 1849 two Mormon sailors set sail for India. In Calcutta they unofficially started preaching the gospel. In 1851 Joseph Richards arrived to begin formal missionary efforts in the country. He baptized the first members of the Church in India and organized a branch. By 1852 there were 189 members. They soon built a small chapel—the first Church building in Asia.

Dr. Salesi Havili’s answer to a fervent prayer occurred in the operating room of the Vava‘u Hospital. Dr. Havili and his wife, Selu, had joined the Church one year previously, in 1977, and were preparing to go to the temple. But he found that an experience during surgery was a test of faith that he needed to pass before taking that step.
Within the limitations of an island hospital, two surgeons and Dr. Havili, the anesthesiologist, began operating on Mafi Vakaloa, an elderly gentleman. When the nurse whispered to Dr. Havili that she could no longer feel Mafi’s pulse, Dr. Havili discovered that the patient had died on the operating table. Panicking, he checked and rechecked everything, trying to discover what went wrong. Finally, he began to pray:
It was a desperate but shallow prayer at first. After all, I knew scientifically that Mafi was dead. And given the limitations of my knowledge and environment, I had exhausted my personal resources in trying to revive him.
I continued to pray, a second and third time. Guilt and doubt dominated my feelings. Although I begged Heavenly Father to restore Mafi’s heartbeat, I was too aware medically that he was dead, and too fearful that I had caused his death. But as I prayed again and again, I had the sensation that Mafi’s life depended on the genuine sincerity of my prayer and the quality of my belief—that this crisis was to test my faith, almost on the eve of my going to the temple.
Eighteen minutes had passed since Mafi’s heart had stopped beating. I asked more fervently, reasoning with the Lord and promising a total concentration of my life to him if he would revive this man.
Finally I bowed my head again and prayed with a fervor and intimacy unmatched in previous prayers. As I spoke to the Lord, I suppressed every fragment of doubt and prayed until I knew that when I opened my eyes, Mafi’s heart would begin beating.
Miraculously, it was so. Mafi’s heart resumed beating after twenty-five minutes of not beating at all. I was overwhelmed with joy and awe. The next morning, I told the doctors and the nurse what had happened. As I made my rounds to the different wards, I was touched to see Mafi’s wife sitting on the edge of her husband’s bed. Mafi was very much alert, articulate—and alive.

The Book of Mormon was a means of introducing Wannipha Thongchalerm, to the Church. First introduced to Christianity by a United States serviceman, she received a copy of the Book of Mormon from a friend. The book led to visits by the full-time missionaries. “Learning the gospel was a happy experience for me,” she says. “The missionaries would visit me every other day, and I would make notes of what they told me. Each time they came, I would repeat the previous lesson back to them. I was baptized in 1976.”
Sister Thongchalerm married a nonmember whose work required him to travel a great deal. After five years of marriage, they were divorced. Prior to the divorce, Sister Thongchalerm began studying to be a nurse, a profession she still follows at one of the local hospitals. Three years after her divorce, she married Anan, who had been baptized in 1981. With their two children, Ariza, 4, and Aachanoon, 3, they were among the group that went to the Manila Temple.
“When I came back from the temple, I felt a greater need to share the gospel with others. I decided I would try to bring at least ten other people into the Church, a goal I reached within two years.”
Sister Thongchalerm, who teaches in seminary, Sunday School, and Relief Society, treasures her testimony. “I feel that no matter what happens, no one can take away my testimony of Jesus Christ.”
The Thongchalerms live in a multilevel house in Udorn—a house Brother Thongchalerm will completely finish “some day.”

This year, we are planning a special Christmas program to perform in front of the entire ward. Bishop Larson likes to come to hear us rehearse. He says he’s never heard us sound better than we do now. He thinks it’s going to be a great performance, and he tells us to keep up the good work!

I applied for a classical piano competition a few months ago. I knew it would likely be on a Sunday, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. I started practicing three months before the competition, and it took a lot of time and effort to get ready.
A month before the competition, a seminary lesson on the Ten Commandments made me think about whether or not competing on a Sunday was a good idea. I wanted to push away the thought, because I’d already paid the application fee of TWD$1,400 (about US$50)—not to mention that I’d spent so much time practicing. I asked my seminary teacher if going to a piano competition would be breaking the Sabbath. He told me that was between God and me. But he bore his testimony that keeping the Sabbath day holy would be a blessing. I thought about it, and I really didn’t want to have to forfeit the competition.
Each day, I read a general conference article. I had just finished one talk and was about to put down the articles, but the next article caught my eye: “Stand in Holy Places” by President Thomas S. Monson (Ensign, Nov. 2011, 82). When I began reading it, I hadn’t been thinking at all about my piano competition, nor was I expecting an answer from the talk. But as I read, it was as if Heavenly Father were chastising me. President Monson’s words hit me hard:
“The Ten Commandments are just that—commandments. They are not suggestions. They are every bit as requisite today as they were when God gave them to the children of Israel” (83).
Then as I continued, I found:
“His constancy is something on which we can rely, an anchor to which we can hold fast and be safe, lest we be swept away into uncharted waters.
“… There is nothing which can bring more joy into our lives or more peace to our souls than the Spirit which can come to us as we follow the Savior and keep the commandments” (83).
I knew then what my Heavenly Father expected of me. I said a prayer and told Him that if it were necessary, I would forfeit the competition, even if I didn’t get a refund. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to forfeit if it were possible, that there might be a way for me to still compete, but that I would keep the Sabbath day holy no matter what.
At the end of the day, I told my piano teacher I couldn’t compete on a Sunday. She was surprisingly understanding. She said the competitions were divided by area and that I could try to transfer to an area that competed on a different day. I made a call the next day and successfully transferred to compete in Tainan, Taiwan, where the competition was held on Saturday.
I am so grateful that I made the decision to obey my Heavenly Father’s commandments. God not only wanted me to keep the Sabbath day holy, but He cared that the piano competition mattered a lot to me. Because I was willing to obey, my testimony of God’s love for me and of the blessings that come from obeying His commandments has been strengthened. I know that when we do our best to do what He asks, God will provide the rest.

Dating is another area where we short boys get in over our heads.
In high school I was enthusiastic but far from being a good dancer. I always believed that if the Lord had meant for short fellows to dance, he’d have equipped them with periscopes. Where most of the boys my age found dancing effortless and fun, we shorty-dancers deserved combat pay. Those elbows from other dancers that caught taller participants in the ribs poked us right in the eye!
I once took a pretty girl I’d known most of my life to a dance. Since grade school, she and I had had a thing going about spelling. Though I could outspell her anytime, she could now outstretch me. I took her to the dance because she was a natural athlete and I needed all the help I could get on the dance floor. But that date was a mistake. It was fine for her to be up there in the clear air, but no one gives any thought to a short escort who can seldom see over or around to avoid the advancing troops.
Despite all these difficulties, things went along all right until, under the spell of the moonlit night, I turned and whispered sweet nothings, softly and romantically, right into her shoulder.
Speaking of cloud-reachers, want to know what happened to that girl I took to the dance? One of my best friends married her. We still see a lot of each other socially. She’s still pretty, and she’s the best volleyball player in our crowd. She can do anything with a volleyball. Well, almost anything. She spells it v-a-w-l-e-e-b-o-l.

When Heber J. Grant was a young man, he worked for an insurance agent, Mr. H. R. Mann. He treated Heber like a son.
Mr. Mann: Heber, why don’t you go to the baseball game this afternoon and then come tell me about it during supper?
Heber: Thanks, Mr. Mann!
Besides working for Mr. Mann, Heber earned money writing greeting cards and wedding invitations. He stayed at the office late into the evening, spreading his greeting cards on his large office desk to let the ink dry.
On New Year’s Eve, Mr. Mann’s partner, Mr. Wadsworth, found Heber still busy at the office writing greeting cards.
Mr. Wadsworth: Heber, what on earth are you doing?
Heber: Getting my cards ready to sell tomorrow.
Mr. Wadsworth: You are the only one I’m going to give a New Year’s present to. You seem to enjoy work while most of the other boys watch the clock to see how soon they can leave.
Heber: Wow! A hundred dollars?
Heber later said that knowing he had earned the confidence of his employer meant much more to him than the money. It inspired him to succeed in business and in the community.
As prophet, he taught young people to be hard workers, too.
Heber: Be inspired with a desire to labor and learn, and you will achieve success in the battle of life.

I am a mother with two wonderful children and a supportive husband. In this world of uncertainties, the Liahona is indeed our family’s modern compass. As we read the First Presidency Message and other inspiring articles in our family home evenings, an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord comes into our home. We feel the power of the Atonement of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and find comfort and peace.
Crisanta Estayo Padilla, Philippines

Everyone carries painful memories of being scolded by a parent or a teacher for not trying to learn. I can still hear in my mind a German teacher, short enough to look me in the eye as she stood at my desk, saying, “Du bist ein —————,” which translated means that she thought I was a donkey for not learning and that some day I would be sorry. Indeed, I am sorry. And I’m sorry for a hundred other times and places I was slow or unable to learn. But more than the regret I feel for choosing not to learn from a German teacher and a piano teacher and so many others, my heart aches for the days—even months and years—when the Master would have taught me how to use faith and repentance and the Holy Ghost and charity, but could not get my attention.

The spiritual submissiveness which is central to the blessings of the Atonement was well exemplified by Melissa Howes as she led her family in prayer a short while before her father died of cancer. Melissa was only 9 and her father 43. Consider unselfish Melissa Howes’s pleading, in her own words as reported to me by her mother: “Heavenly Father, bless my daddy, and if you need to take him and need him more than [we do], you can have him. We want him, but Thy will be done. And please help us not to be mad at you” (letter from Christie Howes, 25 February 1998).

The Relief Society of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was organized 180 years ago on 17 March 1842. It was founded so women could pool their resources and combine their efforts to provide for the people in their communities. That’s why it’s called the Relief Society—it was designed to give assistance to those who need it. The early Relief Society helped fund medical training for women, build hospitals, establish adoption services, secure women’s voting rights, and more.
Today, the Relief Society organizes service projects, fellowships other women, and helps them develop both life skills and a deeper understanding of Jesus Christ and His gospel. Its motto is charity never faileth. Relief Society sisters seek to follow Jesus’s example and to extend love to friends, neighbors, and strangers alike. The Relief Society is one of the world’s largest, oldest, and most diverse women’s organizations in the world. What began as a small gathering in the red brick store in Nauvoo, Illinois, now includes more than 7.5 million women in 220 countries.
When the Prophet Joseph Smith organized the Relief Society, he said it was organized under the priesthood and after the pattern of the priesthood. Eliza R. Snow, the second General President of the Relief Society, said, “It derives all its authority and influence from that source.”1 General Relief Society President Jean B. Bingham stated: “I want people to know that Relief Society is an organization that has power, really, to change the world. . . . Today, the Relief Society is full of ordinary women who do extraordinary things as they exercise faith in God and Jesus Christ.”2

The Great Depression caused many merry-go-round builders to go out of business. Today carousel animals are made from metal and fiberglass. Fewer than one hundred of the old hand-carved carousels remain in the United States. Merry-go-round lovers have started a movement to restore these carousels exactly as they were in their golden age, for despite the thrill of giant Ferris wheels and speeding roller coasters, only the merry-go-round takes you back in time to castles and kings and knights in shining armor.

Of all the experiences I enjoyed as a mission president, one of the most exciting was the glorious sight of seeing the missionaries baptize converts to the Church. To see those handsome young men lead the baptismal candidates into the water to perform that sacred ordinance always brought a lump to my throat and sent a thrill up my spine. The elders felt the same way about that privilege. One of my fine missionaries had been a very adventurous lad. He loved to rappel cliffs, hang glide, and parachute jump. He even joined an Army reserve unit which gave him regular opportunities to jump. When I asked him how he felt when he stood in the baptismal font with a convert, he replied: “It’s as exciting as jumping out of an airplane.”

At the height of his career, Dickens was the most famous person in the world—after Queen Victoria. He had been struggling to find a subject for a new book when the idea for A Christmas Carol came to him. He presented the idea for the book to his publishers, but they did not want it. Christmas had become a small occasion celebrated only by a holiday dinner, if celebrated at all. Dickens became so convinced of the importance of his story that he funded the publication himself. The publication was a great success, and the book is as popular today as it was over 179 years ago.