Gospel Story Finder

Some youth face different but equally difficult challenges.
Exavier R., 15, has been raised by his mother. “I saw other people with fathers in their lives, but I never had one in my life.” While Exavier’s mother works to support their family, he helps take care of his two little sisters. He wakes up every morning and helps them get ready for the day. He takes them to school before heading to his own school. After school, he picks them up, takes them home, and helps them with whatever they need. That takes a lot of strength and maturity, but people around Exavier “think I’m weak. I’ve seen a lot of bad things and been through a lot of hard things in my life, and people don’t know the real me,” he says.
Exavier and his mother joined the Church when he was 14. When he was baptized, his Young Men leaders became like fathers to him. “They guide me in the right direction and help me make the right decision,” he says. Most importantly, Exavier learned that he has a Heavenly Father who believes in him and expects him to do his best every day.

I wish I could say that was when I learned my lesson and turned things around—that I stopped overspending, paid my debts, and became wiser about handling finances. In fact, I was able to pay off my credit card debt, with plenty of help from my parents. For a while I was more responsible with my spending. But only for a while.
Having my parents bail me out, I later realized, gave me an unhealthy sense of security. Though I told myself that I needed to change my spending habits, I also felt that if I did mess up again, there would a safety net to rescue me, just as there had been the first time. And so I soon fell back into my old habits. I wasn’t making large purchases, but I never hesitated to shell out a few dollars here, a little more there—either with my checking card or with my credit card. It depressed me to know how much I spent, so I stopped checking my balances altogether. I got a raise and more hours at work and convinced myself that I was probably doing OK. After all, I wasn’t going out and spending hundreds of dollars at a time.
My experience that summer day at the sporting goods store was an unpleasant awakening. Those smaller purchases had added up, and I found myself in an even bigger mess than before.

In 1812 William Deere set out for England to buy woolen cloth for his tailor shop. As he waited for his ship to sail, he wrote a letter to his youngest child, eight-year-old John. “Take good care of your mother,” he wrote. It was the last word anyone had from him, for he died during the voyage.
Young John Deere and his sister and brothers helped their mother in the tailoring shop in Middlebury, Vermont. John didn’t forget his father’s last words. He bought thread, buttons, and hooks at the store and ran other errands for his mother. He polished her steel needles in a small, strawberry-shaped cushion filled with emery powder.
John saw how hard his mother worked to support them by making clothes for people, and he planned a surprise for her. In secret he got a job grinding bark for a tanner. It was hard work, but John was determined. His blue eyes sparkled as he stood at last before his mother, wearing his pay—a new suit of clothes and a pair of shoes!

Before that first set of missionaries came to my home, I remember feeling lonely one night and praying. I asked God with all my heart to send just one friend to help and support me. The Lord answered my prayer in an unexpected way—by sending the missionaries. I know that Jesus Christ lives and that the missionaries are His servants.

I know of a couple who lived thousands of miles from the nearest temple. Although they earned little, they faithfully paid their tithing and saved all that they could to journey to the house of the Lord. After a year, the husband’s brother—not a member of the Church—unexpectedly came forward and offered them two airplane tickets. This temporal blessing made possible the spiritual blessings of their temple endowments and sealing. An additional spiritual blessing came later as the brother, touched by the couple’s humble faithfulness, joined the Church.

It all started one summer night when I was talking with my best friend, Terry.
Terry was a little older, so he would be going on his mission sooner than I would. He was talking about his mission, when I suddenly realized: “Hey, that’s going to be my situation real quick.”
I had always been active in the Church, and I had always been very obedient. But still the thought hit me like a thunderbolt: “You think you’re so good, but how strong is your testimony?”
What was I going to do? I realized I needed to read the Book of Mormon. But I felt I needed a quiet place, and I was the oldest of six children. Things got pretty noisy in our small house and small yard. There was no secluded grove in our neighborhood. My first consideration was to find a spot where I could get away by myself.
A few years before, my dad had bought a used limousine because we had a big family and it had an extra row of seats. The car had not been working for a while and was parked in back of our house under our old basketball hoop. Inside that car was the only place I could think of to go where I could have some quiet and solitude while I read the Book of Mormon uninterrupted.
I don’t remember exactly what part I was reading when a good feeling came over me. I was overcome with emotion, with tears running down my cheeks. This was unusual for me. I couldn’t imagine crying over something I read in a book. I felt an overwhelming peace and reassurance, knowing that I was receiving communication from Heavenly Father. I had no doubts. I knew that the Book of Mormon was the word of God. And I knew I was ready to go on my mission.

Johanna was only eight when war came to her village in Holland and everything changed. When Johanna was ten, conditions were so bad that her only chance for life was to escape with an older sister and hide in a farmhouse many miles away from their home.
The two girls live with the Oosterveld family, who keep them hidden in an upstairs room—hidden from prying neighbors and from German soldiers who set up an office in the room just below them. Johanna and Sini spend days quietly in bed, bored and lonely and longing for exercise and fresh air. They spend years hidden away from the world.
This unforgettable book touches the heart and holds the reader breathless with excitement, wondering what will happen next. It was named a Newbery honor book for 1973.

As a youth, Joseph personified the Apostle Paul’s admonition: “Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right” (Eph. 6:1). He strictly obeyed his parents not from fear, but from deep love. His love and tenderness toward his parents can best be seen in an event from his childhood. Young Joseph had become infected with a serious and extremely painful leg disease. After several weeks of excruciating pain and many failed attempts by surgeons to alleviate it, doctors concluded that the leg must be amputated. But when young Joseph and Mother Smith objected, the doctors agreed to attempt one more operation. They insisted that Joseph be bound to the bed and that he must drink some wine or brandy to deaden the pain. Joseph’s response, recorded by his mother, Lucy Mack Smith, illustrates his confidence in his father and his tenderness toward his mother.
“‘No,’ exclaimed Joseph, ‘I will not touch one particle of liquor, neither will I be tied down; but I will tell you what I will do—I will have my father sit on the bed and hold me in his arms, and then I will do whatever is necessary in order to have the bone taken out.’ Looking at me, he said, ‘Mother, I want you to leave the room, for I know you cannot bear to see me suffer so; father can stand it, but you have carried me so much, and watched over me so long, you are almost worn out.’ Then looking up into my face, his eyes swimming in tears, he continued, ‘Now, mother, promise me that you will not stay, will you? The Lord will help me, and I shall get through with it’” (Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith by His Mother, edited by Preston Nibley, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1958, page 57).

The street was dark when he rounded the bend, except for the Tobins’ porch light shining yellow across the front lawn. He slowed down, peering carefully, uncertain at first of what he saw.

Sure enough, it was a person sitting on the porch, just like Tessie used to sit. It had to be her. He slowed to a crawl and turned into his driveway. She had only been a silhouette before, but now his headlights caught her and she blinked in surprise.

Tessie! So different, and yet, so much the same. Long brown hair, big eyes, and she was small, so much smaller than he’d pictured the grown-up Tessie to be.

He climbed out slowly, wondering if she was as glad to see him as he was to see her. She was a silhouette again, watching him. He waited under the birch tree.

“Hi.”

Her voice sounded unsteady, and for the first time he thought of how she must feel, seeing her childhood buddy all grown up.

He cleared his throat. “Is that you, Tessie? I hardly recognize you.”

“It’s me, only they call me Tess now.” There was an older tone in her voice now, maybe a touch of rebellion. He stepped closer and could see her more plainly, dressed in jeans and a simple red sweater, looking just like the little girl who’d gone to her first football game with him.

“I kept hearing how grown-up you’d become. I was almost afraid to see you.”

“Well, I am 13.”

“But you’re still Tessie.” He said it forcefully, almost as if his saying so would make it true.

She watched him, her head tilted. “You’ve been on a mission or something, haven’t you? For your church.”

“Yes, in Colombia.”

“Well, I have new friends now.” She looked away.

Could she really be like this, so cold and calculating? Could she have changed so much?

“I was hoping that you’d help me get the car back in shape.”

“It runs fine. You just drove up in it.”

“The clutch doesn’t feel right, and the brakes need adjusting.”

“Go to a mechanic.”

He stared. “This isn’t much of a welcome. I know that I’ve been gone a long time, but I thought that at least you’d be here, excited to see me. I guess I was wrong.”

He turned to go.

“Easy for you to say!”

He stopped.

“Where were you when I needed a friend? You just left, and I had nobody. You said that you’d be back after college, but you never came back, not that summer, not ever, and I had to find new friends.”

She was crying now, her shoulders shaking.

“Every time I get a friend, they always leave. My dad didn’t want me. When I wrote to him and said that I’d run away and live with him if he sent me the plane fare, he never even wrote back. You were a pretty good substitute, but you didn’t really care about me either, because you had college and a mission to think about, much more important than me. Well, I don’t need you either, because I have new friends now, and they’re a lot more fun than you ever were.”

“Tessie, I never knew any of that.” He sat beside her, put his hand on her shoulder. She pulled away and buried her face in her hands.

“Honestly, Tess, I never knew that you were lonely. I wanted to write, but I’m not very good at it. I have your picture, right in the front of my wallet. You’re my best friend. I need you.”

And she needed him. He’d been wrong, thinking that he didn’t have anything to offer a 13-year-old girl. He had a lot to offer, the same thing he’d always had to offer. He’d gone to South America for two years to teach the gospel of Christ, yet he’d neglected to share it with one of the most important people in his life, his next-door neighbor.

“Listen, you cry all you want to, but when you’re done, we’re going to the Ice Cream Hut for hot fudge sundaes.”

“I can’t let anybody see me like this.” She sat straighter, wiping her eyes.

“Then you can stay in the car. Hey, I’ll bet the car would love to have both of us riding around in it again. I suppose it’s been pretty lonely, parked in the driveway all these years.”

“I see it every day on my way to the bus stop.” She looked down, suddenly embarrassed. “Sometimes I talk to it, but not out loud. Sometimes I pretend that you’re home again and we’re working on it, like we used to.”

“But I am home.” He grinned. “And this time I’m not leaving until I give you a special present.”

“Present? What kind of present?”

“It’s another friend, a friend of mine who never leaves, even when everybody else turns away.”

She squinted in the porch light. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll tell you about it some other time. Right now I need an ice cream sundae covered with hot fudge.”

She giggled, the same old giggle, and they walked toward the car.

As the wind whipped snow against the windshield of his cab, a truck driver passing by the huge Cleveland Coliseum halfway between Cleveland and Akron, Ohio, shook his head and spoke into the microphone of his citizens band radio: “That must be the biggest rock concert around!”
But the thousands of cars the trucker saw had been attracted not by the lure of a high-priced rock star, but by the opportunity of hearing the free counsel of a prophet of God.

I just finished reading “How Far Is 49 Yards?” in the January New Era. What an inspiring person Brad Cordery must be. I wanted to write him a letter and congratulate him on his accomplishments and courage, but since I don’t have his address, I hope he reads this in the New Era. I’ve always set goals but have never worked hard to reach them all. But after reading Brad’s story, I’m determined to do better. Brad, best wishes and good luck in everything you do!
Judy RuckerLong Beach, California

An adjacent farm was owned by Joseph and Sarah McKune. Their granddaughter later reported that Joseph McKune had been allowed “to take in his hands a pillow-case in which the supposed saintly treasure was wrapped, and to feel through the cloth that it had leaves.”

When I was pregnant with my first daughter, I enrolled in night school. I worked hard and had another child and my husband sent me to college where I earned my associates degree in animal husbandry. This made a way for me to teach at the Booker T. Washington Institute. I taught there from 1986 to 1990. I was teaching students how to raise goats, chickens, and sheep. After the war years, I was chosen to teach agricultural skills to the ex-combatants to help reintegrate them into society. It was very hard and dangerous. But I was grateful for the job.
By then my parents realized I was doing the right thing for myself and for my family. I was working and earning my own money. They could see I was doing something better for the future.

There were times in the past when my wife’s tears would make me feel uncomfortable and I would respond, “Don’t cry. It’s not that bad.” This response to my own feelings of frustration (rather than to her pain) was telling her that she shouldn’t feel what she was feeling. Without meaning to, I was not helping her communicate with me. When I stopped doing this, she became more open with her feelings. Most of the time people don’t need advice—they need someone who will listen to them and accept them as they are. “Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.” (James 1:19.)

The prophet who sits with us today could tell us of such togetherness, when at the time of his overwhelming apostolic calling he was consoled by his Camilla, who met his anguished, sobbing sense of inadequacy and, running her fingers through his hair, said, “You can do it, you can do it.” He surely has done it, but with her at his side.

As I discussed this scripture with members of our family, they recalled that “men are, that they might have joy” (2 Ne. 2:25), but they had not pondered the intriguing concept that “joy cometh in the morning.”
One of our family said, “News reports appear almost daily concerning people who have problems with drugs, drinking, and emotional distress. How can they, and we, attain the joy spoken of in the scriptures?”
“The gospel of Jesus Christ offers hope,” I answered. “It declares joy to be part of our divine destiny. And to experience joy in the morning becomes our special challenge. The true test,” I continued, “is to be able to look in the mirror, first thing in the morning, and feel real joy.”
One of our daughters, who had recently announced that she was expecting a new addition to the family, said, “But Dad, that’s the hardest time of the day for me!”
“My dear ones,” I replied, “in order to experience true joy in the morning, or at any time, at least three factors are needed. You need to feel good about the people with whom you live and work—your companions in life. You must feel good about yourself—not in any sense of conceit, but simply a proper esteem for yourself, well deserved. And possibly most important, you must feel good about your relation to God and sincerely love him.”
As I so counseled my family in that conversation, we all might consider those three steps to achieve real joy in life.

“I forever am amazed by nature and its beauty,” says Marlies Hammerl, Laurel class president from the Salt Ash Branch, Newcastle Australia Stake. “One aspect of nature I especially enjoy is the night sky and the glorious stars.” Marlies will now get to study those glorious stars more in depth after being awarded one of only 12 Stellar Astronomy Scholarships offered to young women in New South Wales, Australia.
“It is easy to be grateful for all the blessings I have and realize that I, like the stars, need to let my light shine even though my two sisters and I are the only members at my school.” Marlies travelled to Sydney last April, where she was awarded her scholarship by the Governor General of Australia.
Marlies adds, “I am just so grateful that I have taken heed of our prophets’ counsel, to gain the best education that we can. It’s definitely important to strive in all you do.” In other words, we should reach for the stars.

As Heber grew older, his persistence and fortitude were put to good use in business ventures. Offered an appointment to the United States Naval Academy, he opted to stay near his mother and to become a businessman instead.7 After finishing his schooling at age 16, Heber got a job as a bank clerk and learned bookkeeping. His honesty, ability to work hard, and great desire to learn soon opened up many opportunities. By the time he was 20 years old, he had been made the assistant cashier of Zion’s Savings Bank and Trust Company, and he had purchased an insurance agency.8

It is always impressive to read the stirring stories of what can be accomplished through the power of good example. I recently read a story which I would like to repeat. A nonmember relates that about ten years ago he was assistant manager of a discount store where they hired 16–18 year old students to work the night shift. He stated:
“I don’t remember how I hired the first Mormon girl, who was about 16 or 17, and I don’t even remember her name. But I’ll never forget her example. She was unusually honest, dependable and neat and clean, yet those words can’t fully describe her the way I’d like. Compared to other kids, she was really noticeable.”
Soon he hired one of her friends and found that she, too, was an exemplary employee. Both were friendly and helpful in their attitudes towards other employees and the customers.
“Pretty soon I tried to hire any more of their Mormon friends that I could find. Individually and collectively, they were the best people I ever had work for me,” he said. “Never was there a single occasion when any of them disappointed me or proved to be untrustworthy. They were the finest employees and fellow workers than anyone could want.”
One night he wanted a pizza for dinner but was unable to leave the store, so one of the Mormon girls went to get it for him. When she returned he found she had been in a minor accident. He offered to pay for the damages to her car because she was on his errand, but she refused, saying it was her responsibility. He said: “I didn’t think many young people that age would have that kind of character and I’ve never forgotten it.”
This man recently met some LDS missionaries through his son, has had some of the discussions, and has attended some meetings. “I have found that the things I admired in those girls 10 years ago are also found among the Mormon adults I have met,” he said. “I like their emphasis on the family and they seem to me like the happiest group of people I have ever met.”

Miyako was recently baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. She remembers feeling “clean and clear,” she says. She wants to be able to have the Holy Ghost as a constant companion, so she listens carefully for the still, small voice.