Gospel Story Finder

At Aaronic Priesthood and Young Women youth activity night, I had another opportunity to try out my new goal. We took our roadshow to the infirmary. It was a wonderful experience. We loved putting it on for the patients, and they loved watching it. These people had few visitors, so we talked with some after the performance. They all expressed gratitude that someone listened and cared about them. It really made us feel special too.

Another year, I planted a variety of large pumpkin. The vines grew through the fence and produced some enormous pumpkins in the vacant lot that borders ours. I nearly ruined my back lifting those large fruit over the fence at harvest time.

Anne, Lisa, Paula, Vicki, and Joanne* weren’t members of the Church, but they seemed to have high standards. And since there were no Latter-day Saint girls in my neighborhood when my family moved in, I was grateful they befriended me and took me into their group.
A few years later, we left our little elementary school and entered junior high. Right away, things started to change. Soon our conversations began to include fashions and boys. I noticed that my friends were treating me a little differently, too. I brushed it off, but then it got worse. Whispering ended abruptly when I joined the group, and the other girls paired up more. Joanne and Vicki seemed to splinter off, and Anne, Lisa, and Paula spent a lot of time together, often leaving me alone.
It hurt when I learned, one Monday morning, of Friday night’s party at Anne’s house. “We thought you were too busy” was supposed to be an explanation for not inviting me. Another day we were all to meet at the park, but when I got there one of the girls told me that another girl was mad at me, so I’d better leave.
Christmastime came, and our usual Christmas gift exchange was planned. Usually we drew one another’s names, but since I hadn’t been around, someone drew a name for me. I was to buy a gift for Paula. No one had drawn my name, and they were sure I’d be too busy to come to the party, so they asked me to drop off my gift at the door.
I don’t remember whether I was more hurt than angry, but I do remember trying to think of all the mean ways I could get back at them. After some thinking, it occurred to me that being mean wouldn’t be right.
Maybe the best thing to do would be nothing at all, I thought. For a while I settled on ignoring them and their party until I realized that if I didn’t give Paula a present, they might think they were justified in treating me unkindly. I decided, finally, to give Paula something beautiful to show I could rise above pettiness and forgive.
The prettiest wrapping paper I could find made a lovely lining and covering for a small shoe box. I carefully chose items to fill the treasure box: a dainty cut-glass perfume bottle, a miniature vase with tiny dried flowers in it, and other dried flowers in doll-sized bouquets, all tied with ribbons.
The most important part of the gift was the inspirational poems I copied in my best handwriting on pretty stationery. I rolled each like a scroll, tied them with ribbon, and carefully laid them in the box. Finally, I laid the covered lid on the box and tied it closed with a matching ribbon. I walked to Anne’s house, where the party was being held, gave someone my gift, and left. I felt good knowing that I had done the right thing. From that time on, although I never rejoined that group of girls, they were never unkind to me.
We graduated from junior high and went on to high school. If we happened to meet in the halls, we always acknowledged one another with a friendly hello but rarely stopped to talk. After high school graduation, I went away to college.
I came home to visit during a holiday that year, and I heard that the LDS students attending the local junior college had planned a get-together at the institute of religion. Everyone who had gone away to college and returned for the holiday was invited. When I arrived, I saw Paula. She was waiting for me with tears in her eyes.
She threw her arms around me, and after a few minutes she explained: “After high school the missionaries came to my house and taught me the gospel. I was baptized just a few weeks ago, and I’ve been attending institute classes.
“We were so mean to you in junior high, and I felt so bad. I’m so sorry! I loved the box you made for me, and I kept it. I love the poems. They’re spiritual and beautiful, and I reread them all the time.”
I sure had some exciting news to tell my parents when I got home that night! Sometimes rewards for doing right come immediately, but sometimes not for years. We may never learn of the good we’ve done, though the effects of our good deeds may span many lifetimes. I am relieved that I didn’t give in to my angry feelings those many years ago and do something unkind. I am glad that, during that Christmas season long ago, I chose a gift of love—a treasure that Paula now more fully shares.

In Freiberg, Germany, this past August we dedicated another beautiful and sacred house of God. Before the dedication, when the building was open for public viewing, only a few less than ninety thousand came to enter its precincts. Many stood in the rain for hours.
The faithful Saints sacrificed their money, their jewelry, their comfort to assist in building that temple.
One of their number who attended the dedication wrote: “There was a solemn stillness, and there was not a dry eye. The sun was shining after a long time. … You could sense gladness and enthusiasm and the wish for a never-ending harmony. … Tears, laughter, and gladness; everything was present.”
While recognizing the different political philosophies under which we live, I express sincere appreciation to the officials of the government of that nation for their help in making possible this sacred edifice for the blessing of our brethren and sisters in that land.

In 1957 when Elder Spencer W. Kimball, then of the Quorum of the Twelve, developed throat cancer, he went to the East for an operation. (Upon returning home, he said he had gone East and fallen among cutthroats!) As he was being prepared for the surgery, Elder Harold B. Lee was there, and just before Elder Kimball was taken into the operating room, Elder Lee said to the head surgeon, “This is no ordinary man you are operating on.” That, indeed, was true, and it has been true throughout President Kimball’s life. He is no ordinary man.

A few months ago, while participating in a service activity I was able to observe a sister who was heavily expecting. I wondered how much she would be able to offer while carrying such a physically demanding load. The agility and energy with which this sister moved to help lift a load for another needing relief, seemed to have lightened her own load. President Spencer W. Kimball (1895-1985) observed, “Only when you lift a burden, God will lift your burden. Divine paradox this! The man who staggers and falls because his burden is too great can lighten that burden by taking on the weight of another’s burden.”3

I knew a young woman who was taught the gospel and who wanted to join the Church but who was having trouble with the Word of Wisdom. She used cigarettes and coffee, and the thought of never having another cigarette or cup of coffee in her whole life overwhelmed her. One of the missionaries told her to try it for just one day, and then just one more day. She found that by living it a day at a time she could make it, and she was soon baptized. The same would be true in changing any bad habit for a good one.

Troy Jackson, Jaren Hope, and Andrew Allan are bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood who were called by an inspired bishop to team teach a family history class in their ward. These young men are representative of so many of you in their eagerness to learn and desire to serve.
Troy stated, “I used to come to church and just sit there, but now I realize that I need to go home and do something. We can all do family history.”
Jaren reported that as he learned more about family history, he realized “that these were not just names but real people. I became more and more excited about taking the names to the temple.”
And Andrew commented, “I have taken to family history with a love and vigor I did not know I could muster. As I prepared each week to teach, I was often nudged by the Holy Spirit to act and try some of the methods taught in the lesson. Before, family history was a scary thing. But aided by the Spirit I was able to step up to my calling and help many people in our ward.”

A young missionary who transferred from a teaching assignment to a service assignment struggled with some personal challenges that left him needing Christ’s healing power. Consecrated service brought that power into his life. He said, “I felt that when I was struggling, I could feel Christ lifting me up. There is something special about seeing Him bless people through a food pantry, in the temple, and through His gospel.”

This elder began to feel deeper joy, and his newfound enthusiasm blessed him and his entire family. The Spirit entered their home more abundantly, they attended the temple together more regularly, and Christ became a greater focus in their family. This missionary believes that Christ saved his life and blessed his family through service.

The Russian soldiers imprisoned in our camp weren’t treated well. They went without much to eat and we had plenty, so we asked them to clean our mess kits, and they consented. We left food in them all the time just to feed them.
My commanding officer noticed, and he called me in. “What do you do with your mess kits?”
“The Russians clean them for us,” I replied.
“I checked and there was food in them.”
“We cannot eat it all. That’s why we leave it in there.”
“You know that’s strictly forbidden. I could report you and you would be in trouble. Don’t do it again,” he said, and patted me on the shoulder.
One of the Russians to whom we had given the food wrote me a note. He told me that whenever I needed help from the Russians to show them this note.

The second key to increased learning is to have love for each other that comes from great faith. I am not sure which comes first, but both always seem to be there whenever there is great and rapid learning in the priesthood. Joseph Smith taught that to us by example.

In the early days of the Church in this dispensation, he received a command from God to build strength in the priesthood. He was directed to create schools for priesthood holders. The Lord set the requirement that there be love for each other among those who were to teach and to be taught. Here are the words of the Lord about creating a place of priesthood learning and what it was like for those who were to learn in it:

“Organize yourselves; … establish a house … of learning, … a house of order. …

“Appoint among yourselves a teacher, and let not all be spokesmen at once; but let one speak at a time and let all listen unto his sayings, that when all have spoken that all may be edified of all, and that every man may have an equal privilege.”2

In section 88 of the Doctrine and Covenants, in verses 123 and 124, the Lord stressed love for each other and not finding fault with each other. Each gained entry into the priesthood school established by the Lord’s prophet by making a covenant with uplifted hands to be a “friend and brother … in the bonds of love.”3

One night my mom asked me to go into my two-year-old brother’s room and say prayers with him. I folded my arms and began to say the prayer for him, and he soon began repeating what I was saying. He was so happy! I felt good, and when I said my own prayers I thanked Heavenly Father that I could help my little brother say his prayers.

The day I visited the gardens for a clean-up project was a long-awaited and beautiful day. For quite a while I noticed a man who had been sitting on one of the benches. I went to chat with him and learnt that he had been coming to the gardens ever since he could remember. He had fond memories of visiting with his mother and grandmother from the age of four. David Bower is now 64 and told me of the many changes he had seen over the years, from the gardens’ being immaculately maintained with a park keeper and gardeners, then a period when it became unkempt and overgrown, and to the present day being maintained by volunteer groups.

While growing up, I liked to hunt and fish. When I was about 10, I received a bow and arrow set for Christmas. A few days later, I asked my mom if I could go hunting with my bow and arrows in the red sand hills behind our house. She said OK, but to be home before dark. A rabbit soon jumped out in front of me. I shot one of my arrows at it, but missed. My bow and arrow set came with only five arrows, so I really wanted to find the one I had shot. I looked and looked, but couldn’t find it.

By then the sun was getting low, and I knew I had to get home soon. So I decided to do what I’d been taught to do if I needed help. I knelt down in the sand and asked Heavenly Father to help me find that arrow. When I opened my eyes, there it was, caught in a bush right in front of me. That was the first experience I can remember in which I really had a clear answer to my prayers. It was a strong beginning for my faith in the Lord and in the power of prayer.

Zachary found the shiny star the Sunday before Christmas. He asked Mommy, “Where does it go?”
“I think I know,” she said. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
Zachary looked at the Christmas tree, but the star at the top was still there. “Do you know where this star goes?” he asked Daddy.
“I think I know,” Daddy said. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
Zachary looked at Mommy’s ears, then said to himself, “It’s too big to be one of Mommy’s earrings.”
He asked his big brother, Keith, “Do you know where this star goes?”
“I think I know,” Keith told him. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
“OK,” Zachary said. He closed his eyes tightly and thought. But he couldn’t think where the star belonged. He went to play with the nativity scene while he waited for family home evening to start. As he tried to stand the angel on top of the stable, he had an idea.
When family home evening started, Daddy asked, “Who has something to share with us?”
“I do,” said Zachary. He put the star on top of the stable in the nativity scene. “Here is where the star goes—above Baby Jesus.”

At age 17, Kevin Knight, a priest in the Valley View Tenth Ward (Salt Lake City), has already proved himself to be a young man of unusual accomplishment and ability. This past summer Kevin was awarded third place in the Exploring Magazine Contest. Because of Kevin’s accomplishments as a student, Church member, and Scout, and because of his penetrating essay on East Africa, he was chosen to make a safari into East Africa to view the people, the country, and the wildlife. Kevin feels deeply about the problems and challenges of African people and wildlife and expresses his feelings through some beautiful photographs and thoughts that he now shares with you.
“The spectacular wildlife of Africa will leave a lifelong imprint on my mind. I more fully feel the value of God’s creatures and the need to preserve them.”
“Experiencing the animal wonders of East Africa is an excellent way to see the beauty in all living things. The aesthetic sense of man can be dulled after centuries of life in cities. Seeing the beauty of an area untouched by civilization instills a sense of destiny and a feeling of respect for the Creator of these natural wonders.”
“The traditional attitude of the Africans toward game animals has been that of depending on them for food and other necessities. This attitude is evident in the Swahili phrase ‘nyama ya mungu,’ which means ‘meat of God.’”
“East African wildlife reserves are some of the last places remaining on earth where man is still an intruder.”

Whitman wrote: “The ice storm [that winter] wasn’t generally destructive. True, a few wires came down, and there was a sudden jump in accidents along the highway. … Normally, the big walnut tree could easily have borne the weight that formed on its spreading limbs. It was the iron wedge in its heart that caused the damage.

“The story of the iron wedge began years ago when the white-haired farmer [who now inhabited the property on which it stood] was a lad on his father’s homestead. The sawmill had then only recently been moved from the valley, and the settlers were still finding tools and odd pieces of equipment scattered about. …

“On this particular day, it was a faller’s wedge—wide, flat, and heavy, a foot or more long, and splayed from mighty poundings [—which the lad found] … in the south pasture. [A faller’s wedge, used to help fell a tree, is inserted in a cut made by a saw and then struck with a sledge hammer to widen the cut.] … Because he was already late for dinner, the lad laid the wedge … between the limbs of the young walnut tree his father had planted near the front gate. He would take the wedge to the shed right after dinner, or sometime when he was going that way.

“He truly meant to, but he never did. [The wedge] was there between the limbs, a little tight, when he attained his manhood. It was there, now firmly gripped, when he married and took over his father’s farm. It was half grown over on the day the threshing crew ate dinner under the tree. … Grown in and healed over, the wedge was still in the tree the winter the ice storm came.

“In the chill silence of that wintry night … one of the three major limbs split away from the trunk and crashed to the ground. This so unbalanced the remainder of the top that it, too, split apart and went down. When the storm was over, not a twig of the once-proud tree remained.

“Early the next morning, the farmer went out to mourn his loss. …

“Then, his eyes caught sight of something in the splintered ruin. ‘The wedge,’ he muttered reproachfully. ‘The wedge I found in the south pasture.’ A glance told him why the tree had fallen. Growing, edge-up in the trunk, the wedge had prevented the limb fibers from knitting together as they should.”

I would like to share an example of how the Lord can help you. One of my youth leaders, Thad Carlson, shared it with me many years ago. Thad, who recently passed away, had an enormous impact on me while I was growing up. He was raised during the Great Depression, the ninth of 14 children. His family made a living by farming and raising cattle. It was a difficult time financially, and their greatest asset was their herd of cattle.

In Thad’s youth, one of his responsibilities was to care for and, when necessary, herd the cattle to assure that they found the best feed—a big job for a young boy. He was able to do this with the aid of a smart cow pony who knew exactly what to do with little direction. The pony was named Old Smoky. But Old Smoky had one fault: he never wanted to be caught. Whenever anyone approached him, he would run away, knowing that he was going to be put to work.

One day, after Old Smoky was caught, bridled, and saddled, young Thad rode out to the pasture where the cattle were grazing. The ground was dry, and so was the pasture, but Thad noticed that the grass outside the pasture along the sides of some railroad tracks was longer and greener. So he thought he would herd the cows outside the fenced pasture and let them enjoy some of the good feed along the railroad tracks.

With the help of Old Smoky, Thad herded the cattle out of the pasture, where they began to move back and forth along the railroad tracks feeding on the better, greener grass. The contented cows seemed to be taking care of themselves, so Thad got off his horse and sat on the reins of the bridle, enjoying the surroundings around him, playing and amusing himself. Looking to graze in the green grass himself, however, Old Smoky eventually drifted away, his reins slipping out from under Thad.

This idyllic and peaceful moment came to a crashing and abrupt halt when Thad suddenly heard a loud noise from far away. It was the whistle of an oncoming locomotive barreling down the very rail tracks where his cattle herd was lazily scattered right in front of him! He recognized that the consequences could be devastating to the herd and also to his family if he did not act quickly to get the cattle back into the pasture and away from the oncoming train. He felt that he would never be able to forgive himself for not fulfilling his trusted responsibility.

Thad swiftly jumped to his feet and ran to grab the reins of Old Smoky. Old Smoky saw Thad coming and quickly danced away from him, not wanting to be caught. Breathless and desperate, with images of dead cows and family tragedy flashing through his mind, Thad knew he had to act fast.

He later recorded what happened: “My Primary teacher had taught us to pray and reinforced teachings learned from my mother. With no other recourse, I dropped to my knees and started to pray for help to clear the cows off the tracks.”

Thad didn’t hear a voice, but a clear thought came to him: “Notice how the cows can walk by Old Smoky and he doesn’t move. So … now that you are on your knees, also get on your hands. Play like you’re a cow and crawl over to Old Smoky.”

Thad said: “I did. He didn’t move. I grabbed his reins, led him to the fence, hopped on his back, and we raced like the wind to get the cows back into the pasture. Old Smoky was unusually brilliant at every twist and turn.”

Later, when Thad was in high school, it fully dawned on him that he had received a clear answer to his prayer in a critical time of need. He observed, “Angels administered to Old Smoky beyond my ability, and our family was spared a tragedy.” Later he said: “This was the first of many promptings that [were] to come to me. ‘And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you’ (3 Nephi 18:20).”7

Kevin and Brandon were fortunate enough to play on the same varsity team for two years before Brandon graduated. They decided in younger years that they’d always keep the Word of Wisdom as outlined in Doctrine and Covenants 89. As two of only a few members of the Church in their school, they were in the minority of young men who lived such high health standards.

“One of the biggest downsides of the sport is the atmosphere,” says Kevin. A lot of the players would party hard outside of practice, including some smoking and drinking. When it came time to pull off a six-mile run for practice, those same players often had a harder time keeping up. The brothers’ commitment to the Word of Wisdom and good health “really showed during our play on the field and during practice,” says Kevin.

Brandon, in an email from his mission, says, “I have no doubt that a huge part of [our success in lacrosse] was because God blessed us with health because we lived the Word of Wisdom.”

Another time when I felt really hopeless, I went to my room and said a prayer that Heavenly Father would let me know that everything was OK—that I was OK. I was worried about mistakes I’d made in the past and wondered if life would ever get easier. Then I opened up to Isaiah; that’s just what I do when I’m feeling down. And here’s what I read, first thing: “Remember ye not the former things, neither consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert” (Isaiah 43:18–19). And I was so grateful, I just cried. In those verses, I felt God telling me not to stay focused on the past but to move forward with faith. He had miracles in the works for me, and I would know them when I saw them.

Later, after I started dating the wonderful guy I’d end up marrying, I reread this scripture and, of course, I cried. Again. God had done “a new thing” and truly had made “a way in the wilderness.” And I did know it.