Gospel Story Finder

The barber wraps me in a sheet
When I sit in his chair.
I hear his scissors snip-snip-snipping
As he quickly cuts my hair.
He lets me hold the mirror and comb,
And if my neck gets prickly,
He sweeps it with his little broom—
It’s nice and soft and tickly.
The barber pole goes round and round
With stripes that never stop.
I wonder where those stripes all go
When they get to the top.

As a teenager, President Uchtdorf followed his love of flying. He would go to the airport and, at the indulgence of staff, was allowed to look into the cockpits and dream of flying in the freedom of the skies.
He started with an engineering education, followed by six years in the German Air Force. At age 29 he became a captain with Lufthansa, where he rose quickly to become director of the training school, chief pilot, and senior vice president of flight operations.

“My family and I went to the Redwood Forest. It was amazing. The contrast between my little brother standing in front of a giant tree makes me think about how incredible and unique the Lord’s creations are.”
Breanna L. D., Utah, USA

Just twenty-four hours after my call as an Apostle last June, I left for a Church assignment in southern California where, in due course, I found myself standing by the bedsides of Debbie, Tanya, and Liza Avila. These three lovely sisters, aged thirty-three, thirty-two, and twenty-three, respectively, each developed muscular dystrophy at age seven. Since that tender age, each has had her rendezvous with pneumonia and tracheotomies, with neuropathy and leg braces. Then came wheelchairs, respirators, and, finally, total immobility.
Enduring the longest period of immobility of the three sisters, Tanya has been on her back for seventeen years, having never moved from her bed during that period of time. Never once in seventeen years has she seen the sun rise or set or felt the rain upon her face. Never once in seventeen years has she picked a flower or chased a rainbow or watched a bird in flight. For a lesser number of years, Debbie and Liza have also now lived with those same physical restrictions. Yet somehow through it all, these sisters have not only endured, they have triumphed—earning Young Women personal achievement awards, graduating from high school (including seminary), completing university correspondence courses, and reading the standard works over and over and over again.
But there has been one other abiding ambition these remarkable women were determined to see fulfilled. They rightly saw themselves as daughters of the covenant, offspring of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob and Rachel. They vowed that somehow, some way, someday they would go to the house of the Lord to claim those eternal promises. And now even that has been accomplished. “It was the most thrilling and fulfilling day of my life,” Debbie said. “I truly felt I was home. Everyone was so gracious and helpful with the innumerable and seemingly insurmountable arrangements that had to be made. Never in my life have I felt more loved and accepted.”
Of her experience, Tanya said: “The temple is the only place I have ever been where I felt truly whole. I have always felt I was a daughter of God, but only in the temple did I understand what that truly meant. The fact that I went through the experience lying horizontally with a respirator took absolutely nothing away from this sacred experience.”
Elder Douglas Callister, who, along with the presidency and workers in the Los Angeles Temple, assisted these sisters in making their dream come true, said to me, “There they were, dressed in white, long black hair falling down nearly to the floor from their horizontal position, eyes filled with tears, unable to move their hands or any other part of the body except their heads, savoring, absorbing, cherishing every word, every moment, every aspect of the temple endowment.” Debbie would later say of the experience, “I now know what it will be like to be resurrected, surrounded by heavenly angels, and in the presence of God.”

A man who grew up in the Church, served as a full-time missionary, and married a lovely woman was surprised when some of his siblings began speaking critically of the Church and the Prophet Joseph Smith. After a time they left the Church and tried to persuade him to follow. As often happens in such cases, they bombarded him with essays, podcasts, and videos produced by critics, most of whom were themselves disaffected former members of the Church. His siblings mocked his faith, telling him he was gullible and misled. He didn’t have answers for all their assertions, and his faith began to waver under the relentless opposition. He wondered if he should stop attending church. He talked with his wife. He talked with people he trusted. He prayed. As he meditated in this troubled state of mind, he recalled occasions when he had felt the Holy Spirit and had received a witness of truth by the Spirit. He concluded, “If I am honest with myself, I must admit that the Spirit has touched me more than once and the testimony of the Spirit is real.” He has a renewed sense of happiness and peace that is shared by his wife and children.

He had had two dogs, Runner and Tank. One day Runner was hit by a car on a seldom-used dirt road and killed. Kim was devastated. Tank was too, apparently; he stood guarding the spot where Runner had died from then until Kim’s dad finally brought him home in the family truck two days later. It was Tank’s only way of mourning a lost friend.

After my parents were married, one of Dad’s first callings was to teach a family history class. During this time he became personally committed to doing family history work. His law office calendar had many afternoons blocked off to go to the Los Angeles public library to do genealogical research. He started preparing six-foot-long (1.8 m) family group sheets, which he bound in sturdy ledgers.
Dad would also gather data and connect with our relatives. He sent hundreds of letters to his relatives as he discovered who they were. He peppered our family vacations with visits to cousins, aunts, and uncles. From this I learned of the good that can be done when you sacrifice a pleasant day of vacationing.

“It’s fun making valentines for your friends for Valentine’s Day,” said Goose, cutting out a big red heart from a piece of red paper.
“Lots of fun,” said Gander, pasting a big red heart on a piece of lacy white paper.
Goose took a crayon and wrote, “From Guess Who” across the bottom of the valentine she had just finished making.
Gander took a crayon and wrote “From an admirer” across the bottom of the lacy valentine he had just finished making.
“There,” said Goose. “I’m done.”
“So am I,” said Gander.
“They do look nice, don’t they?” asked Goose.
“Very,” said Gander.
“Whom shall we give valentines to this year, Gander?” asked Goose.
“Why, to all our old friends, of course, Goose!” said Gander. “And to our new friend, Bear.”
“To our new friend, Bear?” said Goose. “But, Bear is still sleeping. He doesn’t wake up till spring!”
“I guess we’ll just have to wake him, then,” said Gander.
“But won’t Bear be a bit grumpy if we wake him?” asked Goose.
“Not when we give him his valentines,” said Gander smiling.
“I hope you’re right!” said Goose.
Delivering valentines to all their old friends was easy for Goose and Gander. The friends were all waiting for them when they rang their friends’ doorbells.
But delivering valentines to their new friend was not easy. Bear was not up and waiting for them.
He was sound asleep.
“Maybe we should just leave Bear’s valentines on his doorstep, Gander,” said Goose.
“But then he won’t get them till spring, Goose,” said Gander. “And Valentine’s Day is today, not in spring!”
Goose knew Gander was right. She rang Bear’s doorbell again. Brnnng! Brnnng! Brnnng!
This time Bear answered. “Is it spring already?” Bear asked, yawning.
“It isn’t spring yet, Bear,” said Gander.
“Then why did you wake me?” asked Bear, looking and sounding a bit grumpy.
“Because it’s Valentine’s Day!” said Goose.
“Valentine’s Day?” said Bear. “Gruuump! What’s Valentine’s Day?”
“Valentine’s Day is a special day when you give valentines to all your friends,” said Gander.
“Valentines?” said Bear. “Gruuump! What are valentines?”
“This is a valentine,” said Gander, quickly handing Bear the big red lacy valentine that he had been holding behind his back.
“And this is a valentine,” said Goose, quickly handing Bear the big red lacy valentine that she had been holding behind her back.
Bear took them and read them:
Having a friend like you is nice, Bear,
Especially on Valentine’s Day.
From an admirer
Having a friend like you, Bear,
makes Valentine’s Day happy for me.
From guess who
“No one has ever given me a valentine before. These are beautiful. Thank you, Goose and Gander,” said Bear.
That night as Goose and Gander were getting ready for bed, their doorbell rang.
It was Bear. “I wasn’t sleepy after you left, so I made these for you.” He handed Gander a big purple valentine, and Goose a big orange valentine. “I hope you like them.” Bear grinned worriedly. “Are the colors all right? Purple and orange were the only colors I had.”
“Purple is my favorite color,” said Gander.
“And orange is my favorite color,” said Goose.
Gander read his big purple valentine:
Sharing Valentine’s Day with you,
Gander, is more important to me than sleeping!
From an admirer
“Thank you, Bear,” said Gander.
Goose read her big orange valentine:
Having a friend like you, Goose, makes
Valentine’s Day worth waking up for!
From guess who
“Thank you, Bear,” said Goose.
“Next fall,” said Bear, “I’m setting my alarm clock for Valentine’s Day. It’s too special a day to sleep through.”
“We were just going to have some warm milk and bread and honey before going to bed, Bear,” said Goose. “Would you join us?”
“I’d love to,” said Bear. “I haven’t eaten anything since last fall!”
When all the milk and bread and honey had been eaten, Bear wiped his mouth politely and said, “I have my winter nap to finish. Thank you for the midwinter snack. It was delicious. And thank you for waking me up today.”
“You didn’t mind, then?” said Goose.
“Not at all,” said Bear. “It was Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? But,” he added, yawning, “I wouldn’t want to be awakened again. Not by anybody! Not for anything! Not till spring!”
Bear yawned again. “Suddenly I’m very sleepy,” he said. “It must be all that warm milk. …” And even as Bear spoke, his head began to nod, his eyes began to close, and he fell sound asleep!
“Bear’s asleep in our kitchen!” exclaimed Goose. “What shall we do?”
“Wait here,” said Gander. “I’ll be right back.”
When Gander returned, he was carrying a big blanket.
“What are you going to do with that?” asked Goose.
“Cover Bear,” said Gander.
“And let him sleep right here—till spring?” asked Goose.
“Do you have a better idea?” asked Gander.
Goose didn’t, so she tucked in Bear’s blanket, turned off the lights, and tiptoed to bed.

With the spring of 1666 came the second wave of the Black Death, the bubonic plague, to the English village of Eyam in Derbyshire. A few years before, the first onslaught of the plague had scattered residents about the countryside in a frantic effort to escape. But this time, the minister of the village church, William Mompesson, told his faithful flock that they should not run away, in case they infected others. “Stay in Eyam,” he pleaded, “to save the rest of Derbyshire.”
The minister must have been a persuasive man, for the townspeople heeded his request. A circle of stones was laid around the town as a warning boundary, and food for the villagers was left at the perimeter by outsides anxious to avoid contact.
Months went by, and the frightful disease took its toll. By the time the scourge had passed, 259 of the 350 faithful villagers were dead, including the minister’s wife. But the plague had not spread; Derbyshire was saved.

Let me share with you two typical comments from those who were once blind but who now walk in light and truth, because they were helped by faithful home teachers and concerned leaders.
From another family: “We thank our Heavenly Father every night for our bishopric and our home teachers who have helped us to achieve blessings that seemed so far away, so impossible to obtain. We now have a peace of mind beyond description.”

My first ever temple dedication was for the Provo City Center Temple. When I heard Elder Dallin H. Oaks first start speaking, I knew it would be wonderful. And it was. The first song and speaker I heard, my soul was filled with peace. As I took notes, I knew that what the Apostles were saying was true.

Elder Trent Yeow is following in his grandma’s footsteps. Christina Yeow was a constant example of service and tirelessly served everyone, raising money for the homeless, cancer research and many other charities. Elder Yeow speaks fondly of her. “I just want to serve and make Grandma proud.”

One way he serves is by developing friendships with the residents of Regis Nursing Home, playing chess, conversing with them and just being a listening friend. All he wants to do is to serve people as the Saviour did.

City of Sydney Youth Band: “We were looking for a band that didn’t practice or perform on Sundays,” explains Karen Mauger, 17, a clarinet player from the Castle Hill Ward. “The Aleknas (another LDS family) told us about a band that had changed practices from Sundays to Fridays.”
Since then, thanks at least in part to seven young Latter-day Saints who joined, the band has grown from 18 to 57 members and won several awards.
More important, “the LDS kids have gained the respect of other band members and their parents,” says Marnie Alekna, 17, of the Baulkham Hills Ward. The band steadfastly refuses to practice or perform on Sundays.

It was really hard for me when we moved from Idaho to Utah. After moving all my life, I thought we were finally going to stay put. One day while at our library I happened to pick up the February 1985 New Era. I read “A Small Light in the Darkness.” It hit me hard what I needed to do. I needed to be doing what that boy was doing. I needed to set a good example too. Even though we’ve moved a lot, I’ve always had the New Era as a friend. Thank you for being a friend.
Barbara JacobMagna, Utah

One week after a recent assignment to create the first stake in Moscow, Russia, I attended a district conference in St. Petersburg. While speaking about my gratitude for early missionaries and local leaders who brought strength to the Church in Russia, I mentioned the name of Vyacheslav Efimov. He was the first Russian convert to become a mission president. He and his wife did wonderfully well in that assignment. Not long after they had completed their mission, and much to our sorrow, President Efimov suddenly passed away. He was only 52 years of age.
While speaking of this pioneering couple, I felt impressed to ask the congregation if Sister Efimov might be present. Far in the rear of the room, a woman stood. I invited her to come to the microphone. Yes, it was Sister Galina Efimov. She spoke with conviction and bore a powerful testimony of the Lord, of His gospel, and of His restored Church. She and her husband had been sealed in the holy temple. She said they were united forever. They were still missionary companions, she on this side of the veil and he on the other side. With tears of joy, she thanked God for sacred temple covenants. I wept too, with full realization that the everlasting unity exemplified by this faithful couple was the righteous result of making, keeping, and honoring sacred covenants.

Last year Liberty Walther served as student body president at Sacajawea Junior High. Her friend Mary Tripp served as vice-president. At the same time, Mary served as Mia Maid class president, while Liberty served as one of her counselors. It was an interesting situation which taught them both to lead, serve, follow, and support.

Both girls are members of the Federal Way First Ward, Federal Way Washington Stake. They are also on the swim team, honor roll, and in the school choir. Mary is the ward organist, while Liberty is active in helping with an alcohol and drug prevention program. They’ve got a unique friendship that’s strengthened by the service they give.

The crocuses are out!
A sparrow saw them from a tree
And told a passing honeybee,
“The crocuses are out!”
The bee flew back and told the hive
To spread the word about
That spring has come at last, because
The crocuses are out!

Temple attendance helps me stay committed to the law of chastity. I try to go as often as possible. One challenging week, I entered the celestial room feeling overwhelmed by my mistakes. Seeing my reflection in a mirror, I felt peace and remembered how much the Savior loves me.

The Holy Ghost guided me again when I was confused about what was really true. I spent my early years attending a Catholic school. When I learned the teachings of a different religion at school, I sometimes felt confused. I think maybe I felt a little like Joseph Smith did when he didn’t know which church was right. But as I got older, the more I read the scriptures, the more I was guided to the true light of the gospel. The teachings of the Church had logic and harmony, and the Holy Ghost confirmed to me that they were true.

I have related before my experience with a friend who took me to his ranch. He unlocked the door of a large new automobile, slid behind the wheel, and said proudly, “How do you like my new car?” We rode in luxurious comfort into the rural areas to a beautiful new landscaped home, and he said with no little pride, “This is my home.”

He drove to a grassy hill. The sun was setting behind the distant hills. He surveyed his vast domain. Pointing to the north, he asked, “Do you see that clump of trees over there?” I could plainly discern them in the fading day.

He pointed to the east. “Do you see the lake shimmering in the sunset?” It too was visible.

“Now, the bluff that’s on the south.” We turned about to scan the distance. He identified barns, silos, the ranch house to the west. With a wide sweeping gesture, he boasted, “From the clump of trees, to the lake, to the bluff, and to the ranch buildings and all between—all this is mine. And the dark specks in the meadow—those cattle also are mine.”

And then I asked from whom he obtained it. The chain of ownership of his property went back to land given by governments. His attorney had assured him he had an unencumbered title.

“From whom did the government get it?” I asked. “What was paid for it?” There came into my mind the declaration of the Psalmist, boldly restated by Paul: “The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof” (1 Cor. 10:26).

And then I asked, “Did ownership come from God, Creator of the earth and the owner thereof? Did he get paid? Was it sold or leased or given to you? If a gift, from whom? If a sale, with what exchange or currency? If a lease, do you make proper accounting?”

And then I asked, “What was the price? With what treasures did you buy this farm?”

“Money!”

Where did you get the money?”

“From my toil, my sweat, my labor, and my strength.”

And then I asked, “Where did you get your strength to toil, your power to labor, your glands to sweat?”

He spoke of food.

“Where did the food originate?”

“From sun and atmosphere and soil and water.”

“And who brought those elements here?”

I quoted the Psalmist:

“Thou, O God, didst send a plentiful rain, whereby thou didst confirm thine inheritance, when it was weary” (Ps. 68:9).

“If the land is not yours, then what accounting do you make to your landlord for his bounties? The scripture says: ‘Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and to God that which is God’s’ (see Matt. 22:21). What percentage of your increase do you pay Caesar? And what percent to God?

“Do you believe the Bible? Do you accept the command of the Lord through the prophet Malachi? Do you believe Moses’ words to Pharaoh that the earth is the Lord’s?” (Ex. 9:29).

I said again: “I seem to find no place in holy writ where God has said, ‘I give you ownership of this land unconditionally.’

“I cannot find such scripture, but I do find this from Psalms:

‘Those that wait upon the Lord, … shall inherit the earth’ (Ps. 37:9).

“And I remember that our Creator covenanted in the council in heaven with us all: ‘[And] we will go down, for there is space there, and we will take of these materials, and we will make an earth whereon these may dwell’ (Abr. 3:24).

“It seems more like a lease on which a rental is exacted than like a simple ownership.

“This does not seem to convey the earth but only the use and contents which are given to men on condition that they live all of the commandments of God.”

But my friend continued to mumble, “Mine—mine,” as if to convince himself against the surer knowledge that he was at best a recreant renter.

That was long years ago. I later saw him lying in his death among luxurious furnishings in a palatial home. His had been a vast estate. And I closed his eyes. I spoke at his funeral, and I followed the cortege from the good piece of earth he had claimed to his grave, a tiny, oblong area the length of a tall man, the width of a heavy one.

Later I saw that same estate, yellow in grain, green in lucerne, white in cotton, seemingly unmindful of him who had claimed it.