Gospel Story Finder

One of our fine young men, living in the eastern part of this country where he was one of few Latter-day Saints in his high school, received his mission call. As he prepared for his mission he asked his parents’ permission to invite twenty-five of his nonmember friends to come to the home for a farewell party. During that party the young missionary showed his friends Man’s Search for Happiness, explained why he was going on a mission for his church, and bore his testimony to them. They all in turn hugged him and let him know they loved him and sustained him.

Things changed in Chatburn after that. Parents began to teach their children what Elder Kimball had taught them. The children listened to their parents and obeyed Christ’s commandments. A new happiness and peace filled the village.

A few weeks later the man they now called Brother Kimball returned to their village. The children saw him on the path and, singing the songs of Zion, raced to meet him. They grabbed his arms and held on to his coat. Their parents stood in the doors of their homes as the group passed; they called out blessings on the man who had changed their lives.

What a wonderful time it was for Sarah! Brother Kimball continued to teach them. She learned more about the Prophet Joseph Smith, through whom the Lord restored the true church, and she felt a strong desire to see a living prophet.

Scripture study was a welcome break for Angel, even if her friends didn’t understand why she’d take time away from her school classes to bother with religion. “A lot of them think it’s strange that I spend time with my church. Most of my classmates don’t have any religious beliefs,” says Angel, who was the only Church member in the Taipei First Girls’ School student body of 4,000-plus. “Some students will discuss religion with me, but most of the time they just think being LDS is strange because it takes me away from my schoolwork.”
One of those classmates is a friend Angel invited to church one Sunday. Angel says her friend had a generally positive experience at church, and even told Angel afterward that she felt religion was good, and that she might think about becoming religious herself—after she graduates from the university. “She just didn’t think she had the time for church,” Angel adds.

In many ways Vani’s day is just beginning when school ends. She gets off the bus at 3:30 P.M. and walks a few blocks to her home. There is little time to relax. There’s homework to do, and there’s also cooking, cleaning, laundry, and dishes. Grandpa died two years ago, and Grandma can’t do the things she used to.
“I have to look after my grandma. I have to help her. I know it’s been pretty hard for her because she raised her own kids and then raised me,” Vani says.
“It’s been a challenge for me not to have parents,” she adds. “But being involved in the Church is a great help because it has provided me with so much. Right now I’m the secretary in the Primary, and I teach the CTR class.”
When Vani entered the Young Women program, she served as Beehive class president and then was first counselor in the Mia Maid class presidency. Later she served as Laurel class president. It’s obvious the gospel is a priority.
“Because I’ve been a leader, I feel a responsibility for the girls who have fallen from the Church,” she adds. She is thoughtful for a moment. She feels bad about once-active girls who no longer come out.

It’s not often that a brother and sister compete in team roping, yet team roping is only the beginning of the Janice-Brent team. Just last fall, serving the governor of Utah, his wife, and other judges a meal consisting of garlic lamb steaks, baked potatoes, tossed green salad, carrots, a melon-ball appetizer, braided yeast bread, and a raspberry cream dessert was—yes, the Janice-Brent team.
Adorned with aprons and hats, and reminded by 3-by-5 cards printed with such phrases as “Put plates in oven to heat,” “Cut green peppers,” “Set fruit on table,” “Change aprons,” and “Call guests,” the efficient team won first place in the state 4-H contest and a trip to Denver, Colorado.

We read with interest the article “The Pick and Flower of England” in the January New Era. We were more than joyful to see our son’s picture on page 48. Heber C. Kimball was not portrayed by Elder Kent H. Russell as the caption states but by our son, Elder Todd A. Russell.
Glayden and Helen R. RussellGlendora, California

When I was 16 years old, my oldest brother, Ivan, who was 22 at that time, came home one day and shared some news with the family. He had decided to get baptized in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Our parents looked at him somewhat skeptically, and I remember not completely understanding what was going on. A year or so later, he gave us more surprising news: he had decided to serve as a missionary of the Church, which meant that we were not going to see him for two years. My parents were not thrilled with this news; however, I saw in him a clear determination that increased my admiration for him and the decision he had made.

When I was a college student in Viña del Mar, Chile, I remembered my parents walking to church with me in the sun, rain, hail, and wind. Each Sunday, this memory prompted me to get out of bed, get ready, and go to church—regardless of what was happening outside.

I am the only member in Skadaverdi, Iceland, and I would like to express my thanks to the New Era for all the help it has given me, both in my personal growth and in my missionary work. Many Church works have been translated into our language, but nothing has been as successful as lending my friends the New Era. By the time everyone reads it, it is almost ready to fall apart. Thank you for a super magazine. As we say in Icelandic, it is just pakalegt—in other words, it’s great!
Illugi ArassmundsonSkadaverdi, Iceland

I learned early on that there is great value in listening to experience in older people. I had a stake president once who said, “I always tried to be in the presence of great people.” He was in a little town in Idaho, but he said, “If there was a lecturer coming or something special, I would always try to be there, because I could learn.”

In February while cleaning out my garage, I decided to donate a trunk load of Christmas decorations, since all my children are now grown. About two weeks after dropping them off at a thrift store, I mentioned the donations to my daughter, Kim. She exclaimed, “Mom, you still have my green Christmas stocking, I hope?” Sadly, I had to tell her I had just given it away!
I’d made the stockings for our six young children out of felt. Their names were penned in silver glitter across the top. Kim had insisted she wanted a green Christmas stocking even though everyone else had red. I didn’t realize after all these years that it still meant so much to her. I felt bad that I had given her stocking away, so I decided to call the thrift store to see if I could get it back somehow.
Tara, the manager, asked if it was put in a silver cart or a blue cart. I didn’t know because a worker took the boxes and bags out of my trunk, and I wasn’t paying attention to what carts they were put in. She told me there were about a hundred silver carts and 68 blue carts filled to the top and not stored in any particular order! Tara said that in all the years she has worked there, she has never known anyone to find something after they donated it by mistake. But she would be happy to go with me to look in the sorting room.
I drove to the store with a constant prayer in my heart that Heavenly Father would help me to find the green Christmas stocking, acknowledging that it would mean so much to my daughter. We have been commanded, after all, to “cry unto him in your houses, yea, over all your household. … Let your hearts be full, drawn out in prayer unto him continually for your welfare, and also for the welfare of those who are around you” (Alma 34:21, 27).
As Elder Juan A. Uceda of the Seventy taught: “At the very moment we say, ‘Father in Heaven,’ He hears our prayers and is sensitive to us and our needs. And so His eyes and His ears are now connected to you. … He will see you with eyes of love and mercy—love and mercy that we cannot fully understand. But love and mercy are with Him the very moment you say, ‘Father in Heaven.’”1
I started looking through the Christmas items on the shelves in the main part of the store, but the stocking wasn’t there. I met Tara, and she walked with me into the sorting room.
Where to begin! As we walked past row after row of silver carts towering over us, I tried to quickly scan the contents of each one. Tara grabbed a random cart and rolled it forward so I could see the side of the cart next to it. I looked up and immediately recognized a cardboard box with my handwriting on the side (“electric lights and adapter”). The security guard took it down for me, but inside was just the Dutch oven I’d donated.
I walked around the cart to the other side. On top of another box, I saw the green felt Christmas stocking sticking out of a white plastic bag. To everyone’s amazement, we had found what I was looking for!
Tara said, “You have to take a picture from upstairs so Kim can see the magnitude of what just happened!”
Of all the places we could have looked, we went right to where we needed to be. “Luck,” some might say. No. “Coincidence?” No. Evidence that we have a kind and loving Heavenly Father who answers even the most trivial but heartfelt prayers according to His wisdom and will? Definitely! Although not all prayers are answered so immediately or in the way we hoped, this was a miracle for us that day!
Now, each year as we celebrate the birth of our Savior, hanging on Kim’s fireplace will be a gentle reminder of the miracle of the green Christmas stocking—evidence of Heavenly Father’s love for His children.

Six bus loads of New Hampshire youths and leaders toured the nation’s capital and the new Washington Temple as part of their recent area youth conference. Their first day’s activities included visits to the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the White House, and the Capitol Building, which included a brief stop in the U.S. Senate while it was in session. They also visited Arlington National Cemetery and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
That evening the 240 youths and leaders returned to the Silver Spring Maryland Stake center where they were guests of that stake at a banquet and dance. The group were invited to stay in the homes of members of the stake for the night.
The next morning the young people enjoyed the highlight of the trip—a visit to the Washington Temple.
In the afternoon a testimony meeting was held in Rock Creek Park with the beautiful temple spires as a backdrop. Afterwards athletic activities in the park and shopping were both popular.
Restaurant managers and capitol guards said they had rarely seen a group so well behaved. A bus driver commented that he had thought all youth had given up on any belief in God. He said he was thrilled to be with the group and to have his faith in young people restored.

I recall a bishop telling me of a woman who came to get a recommend. When asked if she observed the Word of Wisdom, she said that she occasionally drank a cup of coffee. She said, “Now, bishop, you’re not going to let that keep me from going to the temple, are you?” To which he replied, “Sister, surely you will not let a cup of coffee stand between you and the House of the Lord.”10

“Twelve times twelve is … one hundred forty-four!” I shouted.
“Great job, Chakell!” Mrs. Good said. My whole class cheered. I was the first student to pass off all my multiplication tables.
I grinned as I walked back to my desk. I’d practiced with Dad all week and was feeling proud of myself. But then I saw another student stand up—Jack.
“OK, Jack. Let’s see if you can pass off your twelves today too,” Mrs. Good said.
My friend Jack was really smart. We were always trying to beat each other at everything. Usually we just tied.
Jack passed off his twelves perfectly. “We’re still tied!” he said as he sat down.
“Yeah,” I said. “Good job.” I was happy for him, but I felt like something was squishing my heart. I frowned and stared at the prickly cactus growing by the window.
Passing off my twelves didn’t feel very special anymore.
That afternoon, Mrs. Good pulled out a a plastic circle with pegs on it. “This is a loom,” she explained. “We’re going to use it to make scarves.”
Jack grinned at me. “I bet I can finish my scarf before you.”
“Not if I beat you first!”
We both laughed. I was excited. This was something I could be the best at.
The next day, I brought pink and purple yarn to school. Mrs. Good helped us wrap our yarn around our looms. I grabbed my red hook, ready to start.
At first, making the scarf was easy. I used my hook just like Mrs. Good showed us. But soon, it got harder. I couldn’t remember what to do next.
Maybe I should ask for help, I thought.
But then I glanced at Jack. His black and red stitches already filled his loom. He was winning!
Why is this so hard for me? My yarn looked like tangled spaghetti.
That night, I told Mom about my scarf. “I don’t know why it’s so hard,” I wailed. “If I have to ask for help, that must mean I’m not very smart. Jack never has to ask for help, and now he’s going to win!” My eyes got watery.
Mom pulled me into a warm hug. “Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re not smart. Everyone needs a little help sometimes.”
“Everyone?” I asked.
“Everyone,” Mom said. “We pray to ask Heavenly Father for help all the time.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
The next day, it was craft time again. I stared at my loom. I looked at Jack. His scarf was twice as long as it was yesterday. I took a deep breath and walked over to my teacher.
“Mrs. Good, can you please help me with my scarf? I’m not very good at it,” I said.
Mrs. Good smiled at me. “Of course! Learning new things takes practice. You just aren’t good at it yet.”
Soon, after Mrs. Good gave me a few pointers, my yarn was finally turning into a scarf!
Jack finished his scarf a few days later. He showed me his black and red masterpiece. I showed him my pink and purple work in progress.
“Your scarf is looking great,” Jack said.
I grinned at him. “Yours too. You’re really good at this. And you beat me!”
He laughed. “I did, but I can’t ever keep up with how many books you read.”
With a smile on my face, I picked up my hook and got back to work.

Over the years, all Church members in Puerto Rico traveled to Florida and the Dominican Republic to visit a temple and perform sacred ordinances. Until, in a timely revelation, President Russell M. Nelson announced the blessing of having our temple in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I was the fastest runner in my class when we were timed for the mile run. I noticed one girl who was having a hard time running, so as soon as I finished, I cheered her on. It made me feel good inside to encourage her.
Josh C., age 8, California, USA

Before I was baptized I took a picture dressed as my scripture hero, Captain Moroni. I keep this picture in my room to help me remember to keep my covenants like Captain Moroni did (see Alma 60:34). Keeping my covenants helps me make better choices, feel happy, and grow closer to my Heavenly Father.
Thomas O., age 9, Virginia, USA

Heading into downtown La Paz, Bolivia, it was getting dark when rocks began hitting our bus. Through the windows we could see angry people in the streets, throwing rocks and putting up barriers to stop the traffic. Our bus continued moving swiftly to the center of town. That night was the start of a revolution in Bolivia.

We got off the bus and began looking for a hotel. The only one we could find was very expensive, but after repeating my explanation to a good man who worked there, he boarded us in the hotel’s cleaning supply room very cheaply. He placed a mattress on the ?oor and gave us blankets to protect us from the cold and the sounds of gunfire that echoed outside all night.

One time he asked someone to not take the Lord’s name in vain, but the person continued to swear. Gabriel had the courage to ask again, and the person stopped.

“This swan is wonderful!” Amy whispered.
“A glassblower made it for me when I was very young. He fashioned liquid glass into that lovely bird by blowing through a long metal tube. He let me feel all the glass figures in his booth, and he even helped me blow a glass bubble. Since that day, whenever I touch my swan, I know that I, too, have seen beauty. Now, you look around, and don’t be afraid to handle everything. I’ll go fix us some refreshments. I remember how hungry young people are after school.”