Gospel Story Finder

On Tuesdays, we visit our Rest Home Grandma. She has no family of her own—no children and no husband. Mama says we are her family now. She’s so tiny she seems lost in her wheelchair when we push it outside. Then she grasps the arms of the chair, sits forward, and leans into the wind, “Faster! Go faster!” she chirps in a high-pitched voice. Her silky white hair flows out behind her as Mama jogs and pushes until we run out of breath. “Whee! Do it again!” Grandma chortles.

We jog and stroll and jog some more. “I wish I could ride all day,” she tells us. But before we get back to the rest home, she is fast asleep. We love our Rest Home Grandma.

Our house was getting too small. With my newborn brother, there were eight of us (five girls, one boy, and my mom and dad) living in a three-bedroom house. My family prayed and fasted about it, and eventually we felt like it was the right decision to move to a bigger house in the same town but in a different ward. I was crushed. Yes, it was small, but I loved our little home. I especially didn’t want to leave my ward.
After I heard the news, I felt prompted to read the scriptures. I went to my room and opened them up to where I’d left off the day before. It was 1 Nephi 2. When I got to verse 4, I read:
“And it came to pass that [Lehi] departed into the wilderness. And he left his house, and the land of his inheritance, and his gold, and his silver, and his precious things, and took nothing with him, save it were his family, and provisions, and tents, and departed into the wilderness.”
It hit me like lightning. I, unlike Lehi and his family, got to keep all my “precious things.” This reminded me to count my blessings. I realized that my parents wanted the best for our family and that I should remember how blessed I truly am.

“Being in the Church makes me want to continue my education. I want to be a social worker, so I joined a group called ‘Friends of the Elderly.’ We visit old people. That’s good fun, and it might get me a job one day.”
Tracey Keogh, 16, Dublin, Ireland

“Can we go to the park today, Mommy?” Judy shouted on her way to the kitchen.
But when she got to the kitchen, no one was there.
She heard noises in the family room, so she went to look. There on the floor was her two-year-old sister, Mandy. Mommy was bent over her, smiling.
“Come on, Mandy Pandy, you can do it,” Mommy said.
“Can we, Mommy?” Judy asked louder.
“What, dear?” Mommy said without looking up.
“Go to the park!”
“Judy, you know that today is Mandy’s therapy day.”
“But she always gets therapy. We never go to the park anymore,” Judy whined.
Mommy looked at her with a sad face. Judy went outside and sat on the front porch swing. She swung back and forth and thought about her mother’s sad look. She knew she had put it there, and she didn’t like it.
“Hi, Judy,” a cheerful voice called from the bottom step.
“Hi,” she mumbled to the therapist, Mrs. Bybee.
“Could I swing with you for a minute?”
Judy shrugged her shoulders.
Mrs. Bybee sat down, and soon the swing was smoother. “You look awfully sad on such a pretty day.”
“I wanted to go to the park, but we can’t because of Mandy’s therapy.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Ever since the doctor said that Mandy has cere-cere—”
“Cerebral palsy?”
“Yeah, cerebral palsy,” Judy said. “Now all Mommy and Daddy do is therapy with Mandy.”
“That’s not much fun for you, is it?” Mrs. Bybee asked understandingly.
Judy shook her head, then asked, “What’s cerebral palsy? After Mandy was born, Daddy told me, but I forgot.”
“It’s when damage to the brain makes it harder to use your muscles, usually in your arms, legs, and mouth,” Mrs. Bybee explained.
“How did Mandy get it?”
“She had a hard time being born, and oxygen didn’t reach her brain at first. That kept her brain from making her muscles work right.”
“Oh.”
Mrs. Bybee smiled at Judy. “You know what—I bet you would be a great therapist for Mandy.”
“Me?”
“Yes! Let’s go see.” She took Judy’s hand as they went into the house. “Hello, Mrs. Collins. Hello, Mandy,” she greeted them. Then she told Judy, “Let’s sit on the floor by your sister.”
Judy sat down and wiggled her pointer finger toward Mandy. Mandy tried to reach for the finger, but couldn’t touch it.
“That’s wonderful, Judy,” Mrs. Bybee told her. “Getting Mandy to reach for your finger is good therapy.”
Judy beamed. Then she looked puzzled. “But she couldn’t do it.”
“That’s why we do therapy,” Mrs. Bybee explained. “One of these days she will be able to do it. For Mandy, therapy is trying to get her to move—and you’re probably the best person to give her therapy right now.”
“Why is that?” Mommy asked the therapist.
“Big sisters have a lot of energy. And sometimes they can do things over and over again when moms and dads can’t.”
“Ga!” Mandy said.
Judy laid on her stomach, with her face only inches away from Mandy’s face and said, “Ga!” Mandy smiled. “Did you see that?” Judy said excitedly.
Mrs. Bybee nodded. “You’re her big sister, and she wants to do things for you. In fact, she might do more things for you than for me or your mother.”
Judy saw that Mommy had a happy face now. Judy looked back at Mandy, who was still watching her big sister.
“Judy, you can help Mandy by getting her favorite toys and trying to get her to reach for them. It’s good, too, to repeat whatever she says. She needs to make lots of sounds so that she can learn to talk,” Mrs. Bybee explained.
“But that’s playing,” Judy said.
Mrs. Bybee nodded. “Therapy is a lot like playing.”
“Do you think Mandy might enjoy going to the park?” Mommy asked.
“I think that’s a great idea,” the therapist said. “It would be good for her to see and feel different things, like sand and grass.”
“Yippee! We get to go to the park, Mandy Pandy!” Judy exclaimed happily. “Just wait until I show you the swings and all the other fun things there!”

Running a race with the wind in my hair,
I’m zooming along, gliding on air!
Jill is winning, followed by John,
Clay and Jennifer, Nicky and Ron.
Then there is me; I am the last.
I love to run, but I’m not very fast!
When the race is over, Jill is the winner.
She’s the best runner, but I’m the best swimmer.
John is great at throwing a ball.
When we play soccer, Clay’s best of all.
Jennifer can juggle, Ron plays the drums,
Nicky likes to sing while the rest of us hum!
We’re each good at something, all different and fun—
soccer and swimming, or taking a run!
We all have fun in so many ways,
the best of friends in whatever we play.
It just doesn’t matter whatever we choose,
if we’re having fun, there’s no way to lose!

Give a family member a small board and a child’s building block; then ask the individual to balance the board on top of the block. Have the individual repeat this with two blocks, then three, then four so that family members can see the stability offered by having four cornerstones under the board. Label the blocks with the four cornerstones in President Hinckley’s message.

Days start early in the Chung Tien household. The father, Willie Chung Tien, is the baker for the village of Mataura, located on the island of Tubuai in French Polynesia. That means most mornings he starts work at 4:00 a.m. It’s the only way bread will be ready in time for breakfast, and many people depend on Brother Chung Tien for their daily bread.
Eleven-year-old Lee Yen Chung Tien has learned a lot from her father’s example. “I don’t get up as early as he does,” she says. “But I try to work hard like he does, and to serve other people like he does.” She knows that many mornings her father takes fresh, hot bread to the missionaries serving on Tubuai. She knows that he gives many hours in service to the Church in his calling as first counselor in the Mataura Branch presidency. She also knows that many people on the island admire his friendly smile and his positive attitude. “He is a great example to our family,” Lee Yen says. “His happiness helps us all to be happy too.”

On one occasion while on a mission to Arkansas and Tennessee, Wilford and his companion walked sixty miles from sunrise until ten o’clock at night “without a morsel of food of any kind.” During his missions to England, Elder Woodruff’s faith and hard work resulted in a remarkable number of baptisms—several hundred were performed personally by this valiant leader and servant.

Grandpa is coming to visit!
Felix helps get ready. First he picks up his toys.
Next he helps sweep the floor.
Then Felix helps wash clothes.
He helps Mom with dinner too!
“Thanks for being my happy helper, Felix!” Mom says.
Heavenly Father wants us to help others. Point to ways these children are helping.

I remember when, as the newest member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, I knelt in prayer with Elder David B. Haight. He was about the age I am now, with challenges I now experience myself. I remember his voice as he prayed. I didn’t open my eyes to look, but it sounded to me as if he was smiling. He spoke with Heavenly Father with joy in his voice.
I can hear in my mind his happiness when he said, “In the name of Jesus Christ.” It sounded to me as if Elder Haight felt the Savior was affirming at that moment the message he had prayed to the Father. And I was sure it would be received with a smile.

But if a person asks the question in a different way, he can find what I believe is the answer. When I think back on my Sundays in high school, college, and graduate school, I cherish the memory of those when I enjoyed the Lord’s Spirit while carrying out my stewardship or visiting someone in need or reading the scriptures. The others I either regret or have forgotten. They were the Sundays when I did things that were (like studying) not wrong in themselves but were things that kept me from partaking of the special Spirit of that day. Instead of asking, “Are studying and recreation wrong on Sunday?” it is more helpful to ask, “Will studying and recreation keep me from a full measure of the Sabbath’s blessings?” The answer to the second question is that anything that interferes with these blessings is unworthy of the Sabbath.

In August 1975 in the area conferences for Asia, President Kimball referred to Elder Cowley’s statement adding, “Many of us have been almost holding our breath until the time could come when we could build a temple in that land. We therefore, propose to you assembled here that we establish a temple in Tokyo, Japan, for all of Asia.” (Japan Area Conference, August 9, 1975, p. 3.)
Each of the areas of the temple district—Japan, Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan Philippines—responded in turn to joyfully sustain the temple plans. There were then some 60,000 Latter-day Saints in Asia, a number that has nearly doubled in the five years since 1975. The completed temple will serve over 115,700 members—47,000 in Japan, 35,000 in the Philippines, 18,500 in Taiwan, Korea 8,700 , and 6,500 in Hong Kong.

If you’re not sure what to write about, start with a prompt. President Henry B. Eyring of the First Presidency used a prompt to keep his daily journal:
“Before I would write, I would ponder this question: ‘Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?’… As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us. … I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.”
Starting with a question can help you focus and give you a new perspective, like it did for President Eyring.

One day when they had very little to eat, Agnes’s mother sold a quilt and a bedspread and used the money to buy food. She often traded trinkets and gifts to the Native Americans for dried meat, which proved to be a great help, especially when the cold wind was blowing and they couldn’t build a fire to cook food. On such days, she would give each of her children a piece of dried meat and some bread. Sometimes she took a small piece of meat and made a stew, thickening it with a little flour and some salt. It tasted so good on a cold night!
Agnes marveled as she watched her mother find a way to bake food out on the prairie. Mother dug a hole in the ground, placed the food in a heavy iron kettle with a tight lid, then set it in the hole and covered it with burning buffalo chips or small pieces of wood. She prepared many meals in this way.

The last day of her fifth grade year was a day Rose would never forget.
She was eleven years old, quiet, and shy. But she loved being with her friends, playing games and competing with them.
That day was a field day. She thought, I can choose to do whatever I want!
A few teachers had set up games and races for the children. Rose and her two best friends, Tricia and Kelly, decided to help some of the teachers set things up. Rose had a lot of fun helping her own teacher, Mr. Charles, put up signs and get the first-, second-, and third-place ribbons ready for the winners.
Of course, Rose wanted to be one of the winners. In fact, she thought, I sure would like a first-place ribbon to take home!
At last the fun began. Rose, Tricia, and Kelly competed in several games together. Each of them won second- and third-place ribbons.
After a while, Kelly decided that she wanted to help the first grade teacher with the sack race, and Tricia wanted to enter the drawing contest. Rose didn’t know what else she wanted to do, so she decided to walk around.
When she came to the peanut race, it looked like it would be fun. She watched the younger children’s division and saw that it was no ordinary race. She clapped her hands as the winner got to the finish line—it was her happy little neighbor, Andi Marie.
When she signed up for her own division, Rose saw that about nine other girls had entered. She didn’t know any of them very well, but they all seemed to be friends.
The teacher in charge, Mr. Stevens, was one of the favorite teachers in the school. He handed each girl a peanut and a flat, wooden ice-cream spoon and explained the rules. “First, place the peanut on the spoon. When I blow the whistle, go as fast as you can toward the finish line, trying to not let the peanut fall off. If it does, stop, pick it up, put it back on your spoon, and continue the race. The first one who crosses the finish line will be the winner. No cheating!”
As Mr. Stevens headed for the finish line, which seemed very far away, Rose saw that many kids had gathered along both sides of the race course. Her heart began to pound.
The whistle blew, and off they went! Rose was determined to win, but it was harder than she’d thought it would be. Every few steps the peanut rolled off her spoon. She kept stopping to pick it up, put it back on her spoon, and hurry on. It was fun at first, but then she heard some kids laughing. The laughter got louder and louder. Mr. Stevens was yelling out over the noise, “Come on, keep it up! You can make it!”
When she dared to glance up, she saw that all the other girls had already crossed the finish line. How could they have gotten there so fast? Rose thought. They were laughing, too—and hooting—at her: “You’re too slow! We all beat you! Ha-ha-ha!”
All eyes were on Rose. The peanut kept rolling off, and she kept picking it up as even the bystanders laughed and made fun.
She was only halfway down the racecourse. Her face flushed bright red with embarrassment. The next time the peanut rolled off, she stopped, picked it up, and walked off the course. What’s the use of going on? She asked herself. She just wanted to go home or hide someplace.
Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see a concerned Mr. Stevens. When he asked why she had walked off, all she could do was shrug. If she’d tried to speak, she would have cried.
She never forgot what Mr. Stevens said to her then: “You should have kept going. Even if you had come in last, you would have been the winner. Didn’t you know that every one of those girls had their thumbs on the peanuts? They all cheated. You were the only one who wasn’t cheating. But you gave up.”
“But you gave up” kept ringing in her ears. She didn’t like those words. She didn’t believe in being a quitter, but she had quit. Instead of being an embarrassed loser, she could have been a happy winner taking home the first-place ribbon!

“O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand” (Isa. 64:8).
All of us at times feel common, or useless, or unattractive. Learn something from simple clay. In its natural state, clay is common and far from beautiful. But in the hands of a master potter, it takes on a pleasing personality, becoming a thing both of usefulness and unique beauty.
But before clay can be made beautiful and useful, it must be centered on the potter’s wheel. As the wheel spins, the potter molds, shapes, and lifts the clay into the desired form. If the clay is not centered, it cannot be shaped properly. Eventually, natural forces fling it from the wheel. Our lives are like that.
We must become centered on Christ—and remain centered on Him. Only then can our Father in Heaven shape and mold our lives to His grand design for us.
Sometimes flaws appear in the clay and repairs must be made. It may be necessary to go back, to remold and reshape. The wonderful thing is, when properly repaired, the flaw is completely gone, as though it had never existed.
When we sin, we introduce flaws and defects. They may not be outwardly visible at first, but they weaken us just the same. And if they are not properly repaired, they can lead to our ultimate ruin. Fortunately, if we are humble and pliable as clay in the Potter’s hands, repentance will make us completely whole.
Clay that has been shaped and molded may become beautiful. And as it dries, it becomes harder. But it never achieves its full potential until it has been through the fire. In the great heat of the potter’s kiln, the clay is transformed.
Hidden flaws that were not repaired reveal themselves at this time, and the piece breaks or crumbles.
But a vessel that has integrity comes from the fire stronger and more beautiful than ever. In life, too, we pass through fiery trials that test our faith and integrity. Then if we have remained centered on Christ, and if through true repentance we have let Him make us whole and sound, taking from us our flaws and mistakes, we come forth from the fire as beautiful, useful vessels in His hands.

Robert put on his first-ever suit. He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He adjusted his tie and made sure his white shirt was tucked in right.
He went to find Mom. “Do I look OK?” he asked.
“You look very grown up,” Mom said. Her voice did that thing it always did before she started to cry. Like she’d just swallowed a spoonful of peanut butter.
“Aw, Mom. Don’t cry.” Robert patted Mom awkwardly on the shoulder.
Mom wiped her eyes. “I just can’t believe you’re old enough to receive the priesthood.”
“Ready?” Dad called. “We don’t want to be late!”
Robert was so excited he could hardly sit still in the car. But he sat reverently during the sacrament. He watched the deacons pass the trays of bread and water. Next week, that will be me! he thought.
Robert had done a lot to prepare for today. He’d read in his scriptures about the priesthood, especially section 20 of the Doctrine and Covenants. On Monday, Mom and Dad gave a special family home evening about the priesthood. And last week the bishop had interviewed him to make sure he was worthy and ready to receive the priesthood. He knew he was ready, but he was still a little nervous.
After the meeting, Robert, Mom, and Dad went to the bishop’s office. Robert sat in a chair in the middle. He took a deep breath as Dad and the other priesthood holders gathered around him. Their hands felt heavy and warm on top of his head. He closed his eyes.
Dad started out with Robert’s full name. Usually Dad only used Robert’s middle name when he was in trouble, but Robert knew this time it was special. He listened carefully as Dad conferred on him the Aaronic Priesthood and ordained him to the office of deacon. He said Robert would be blessed if he honored the priesthood and kept his covenants.
Afterward Robert shook hands with everyone and gave Mom and Dad a hug. Mom was crying again, but Robert didn’t really mind.
“Holding the priesthood is a sacred privilege,” Dad said as they left the bishop’s office. “Do you know how we have the Aaronic Priesthood today?”
“Joseph Smith got it from John the Baptist?” Robert said.
“Yes! And do you know who sent John the Baptist to Joseph Smith?” Mom asked.
“Uh …” Robert frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“He was sent by Peter, James, and John. And they received their priesthood authority from Jesus Christ,” Mom said.
“Wait … so it’s like I got the priesthood from Jesus?” Robert asked.
“That’s right,” said Dad.
Robert’s eyes widened. It was hard to find a word special enough to say how he felt. “That’s so … awesome.”
“It really is awesome,” Dad said. He pulled something out of his pocket. “You can keep this with you to always remind you that the priesthood is Jesus Christ’s power.” He handed Robert a small picture of Jesus.
Robert stared down at it. Suddenly he felt very small. “Jesus Christ’s power … that’s a big responsibility.”
“But you know what that means?” Dad asked. “Heavenly Father and Jesus love and trust you enough to give you Their power. They know you can honor the priesthood.”
“But how do I honor it?” Robert asked.
Mom smiled. “By serving others. And doing your best to follow Jesus.”
Dad pulled Robert into a hug. “We’re so proud of you!”
Robert felt like the Holy Ghost was giving him a hug too. He smiled as he tucked the picture of Jesus in his wallet. He would always carry it with him so he could remember to honor the priesthood.

Near the turn of the century two missionaries approached a mountain village in one of the Hawaiian Islands. A man standing near his hut saw them coming and said to his children who stood nearby, “Run down the hill and tell those men to go back. We are not interested in what they are preaching.” The children obeyed their father.
The missionaries, however, continued up the hill. Upon reaching the crest, they walked to the father and said, “We do not mean to be rude. But we have traveled many miles to tell you that there is a living prophet on the earth today.”
A look of excitement swept over the man’s face. “What did you say?” he asked.
The missionaries repeated their testimony: “There is a living prophet on the earth today, and we want to share with you his message.”
Turning to his children, the man exclaimed, “Quickly, run and get mother, and call together your brothers and sisters. Tell them that there is a living prophet.” A short time later this family accepted the gospel and was baptized. (Related to Elder Asay by Tom Kaleo of Hawaii, about his own father.)

Unlike most of the students at the Catholic University of Temuco, Heraldo Torres, originally of the city of Lajas, was a Latter-day Saint. His classmates observed that he was courageous in sharing his views on moral questions—even in the mandatory theology classes, where his opinions sometimes lowered his grades. But eventually he won the respect of many of his professors and fellow students.
Heraldo’s roommate and longtime friend, Roberto Jiménez, was also a Church member and had just come back to school after serving a mission. Like many converts, he was the only Latter-day Saint in his family. His successful return to the university laid to rest the concerns of many friends and relatives, who had tried to convince him not to interrupt his studies for a mission.
“When are you going on your mission?” Roberto sometimes teased Heraldo.
“Soon. When I graduate,” was the usual reply.
“Oh, you mean in ten more years?” Roberto would joke.
Before long the two roommates, both students of English, met another young man with the same major. His name was Luis (“Luchito”) Cornejo, and he was from the capital, Santiago. Although he was thought to be shy, Luchito accepted an invitation from Roberto and Heraldo to attend ward meetings and institute classes, and he found the gospel message very agreeable. At about the same time, he began boarding with the Hernández family, who were Latter-day Saints. His heart was softened by their many tender acts of kindness, and he decided to be baptized.

“What do these scriptures teach us?” Daddy asked as he closed his Book of Mormon.
Four-year-old Tyler piped up, “Jesus said we should pray always.”
“That’s right, Tyler,” Daddy said. “Do you think you can have a prayer in your heart all day today? But don’t just pray for yourself; look for others who need blessings and pray for them, too. We’ll pray for them again when we have family prayer tonight.”
Mommy stood up. “It’s time to get the breakfast dishes done and for Daddy to go to his office.”
As Daddy walked to the front door, Tyler followed and grabbed his hand. “Daddy, I’ll try my best to find someone who needs my prayer today.”
Daddy gave Tyler a hug. “Good! I’m sure that will make Heavenly Father happy.”
Later that morning, Tyler went with Mommy to take books back to the library. He saw a lady holding a baby. The baby wouldn’t stop crying, no matter how her mom tried to soothe her. The baby looked as though she could use Tyler’s prayer. Tyler prayed in his heart, “Please, Heavenly Father, bless the baby to be happy and quiet.”
After lunch, Tyler went outside to ride his tricycle. The people who lived next door waved to him. Tyler saw Mr. Radcliffe helping his wife climb out of her wheelchair and into the car. “Heavenly Father,” Tyler prayed, “I like the Radcliffes. Please bless Mrs. Radcliffe to get well.”
That afternoon the doorbell rang. The piano tuner had come. Tyler liked to watch him use his tools to tune the piano. Tyler asked Heavenly Father to bless the piano man to do a good job.
Before Tyler’s bedtime, his family gathered for their evening prayer. “Did you find anyone to pray for today?” Daddy asked Tyler.
“I found three people who needed my prayers—a baby, Mrs. Radcliffe, and the piano man,” Tyler reported.
“That’s wonderful, Tyler!” Mommy said. “I’m sure Heavenly Father heard your prayers, and He will answer them.”
“Tyler, will you please say the family prayer tonight?” Daddy asked.
As Tyler prayed, he remembered to ask another blessing on the people who had needed his prayers that day.