Gospel Story Finder

SYDNEY—“Flames were shooting 50 feet into the air. They were about 15 yards off. I could feel the heat on my face. That’s hot enough to know what firefighters would feel.”
But Michael James Davis isn’t a firefighter. The then 18-year-old member of the Sutherland Ward, Sydney North Stake, was standing in the driveway of his family’s home, ready to flee in horror as fire surged up from the valley where normally he walks his dog Jess.
The fire was one of about 130 that ravaged much of New South Wales in January, many of them set by arsonists. Nearly 1.5 million acres were burned.
Michael and his father had been trying to pump water from their swimming pool to hose down their house, but the fire got too intense. Firefighters ordered them to evacuate.
“I haven’t prayed so much in a long time,” Mike said. “I felt calm, but I still thought the house was going to burn. Just as long as everyone was safe, that was the main thing.”
Out in the street, he saw “everyone crying and trying to get their children out. All the people in the street, everyone just fled. It hurt me to witness that. That was almost as bad as the fire.”
He and his father joined the rest of their family at the home of some fellow Church members. After 45 minutes, a radio announcement said the fires had passed and residents were allowed to check on their homes.
“First we went to the chapel, to let them know we were safe and to see if anyone needed help. Then we came home to inspect the damage.” Miraculously, their home had been spared, even though the house next door had burned to the ground.
“All around their porch there were thick shrubs, and the shrubs spread the fire to their house,” Michael explained. Everything was gone but the foundation and a children’s play area out in the yard.
At his own house, Michael and his father found that two big gum trees in the backyard had burned completely. An iron fence had melted in the intense heat. And on the back porch, a mop sitting on the wooden deck had burned—the scorch marks are still there—but the deck had not ignited. That’s how close the fire had come.
That night Mike was allowed to sleep in his home. “The air smelled bad,” he remembers. “You could look down in the valley and see the embers glowing in the dark.” He lay there thinking of what he’d learned in just a few short hours:
—“Heavenly Father did hear my prayers. He helped me to be calm, to know that everything would be all right, even though he didn’t tell me exactly what would happen.”
—“There was a lot of help and friendship from the Church, but there was a lot of help from people in the general area as well. I took a walk around an area that wasn’t burning. Everyone was stopping and having a chat and saying, ‘Is your family all right? Is there anything we can do to help?’ These are people I hadn’t ever seen, people who weren’t in the Church, and they were good people trying to help each other.”
Over the next few days, he learned some additional things:
—“Fifteen members of our ward chipped in and bought a new fridge and a washing machine and brought blankets for the people in the house that burned down. They were just renting, but they didn’t have the contents insured. We helped them start getting their life back together.”
—“The worst thing is that police caught people looting burned out houses for jewelry. How people could do that to someone who is already hurt by their house being burned down is incredible to me. I’ve seen the bad side of people and the good side, too. I’ll take the good side.”
Time passed. “Soon we had the pool cleaned of the soot deposited during the fire, and fertilizer greened up our grass.” Down in the valley, green shoots poked through the ashes on the ground.
“Life comes back,” Mike says. “But the memory of this fire will be around for a long, long time.” Even more enduring, however, will be the new understanding of the things that are really important in life, and Mike’s deepened gratitude for them.

Which prophet received a mission call to the Swiss-German Mission, but because of the threat of war, was reassigned to the Central States Mission? He once played the piano to introduce the gospel while on his mission.

The first congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ in Brisbane was formed on 30 August 1896, only a few years after the first missionaries arrived in Brisbane. The handful of Saints gathered in rented halls for their Sunday meetings.
By the turn of the century, membership had grown to 130, so property was obtained in 1904 to build a chapel. Construction began in late September and was completed on 3 December 1904. The first meeting in the new Gibbon Street chapel was held the very next day.
For the next 54 years, the building was the centre piece of the Church in Brisbane. The baptismal font was the only one is Queensland, so families came from all over the state to be baptised.
The Camp Hill building was completed in 1957, and the last meeting held in the Gibbon Street chapel was 3 August 1958, the end of an era.
Members who attended for years said that while the building was quite ordinary, the name, Gibbon Street, inspired nostalgia for all who met there. There was a sense of community and kinship among the early saints.
In June 2003, the Brisbane Australia Temple was dedicated at Kangaroo Point. The temple can be seen as a lasting testament to the Gibbon Street pioneers. The documentary closes with the appropriate tribute, “They built it well to the glory of their God.”

Just before my junior year in high school, my family moved 3,000 miles to the San Francisco area. I started the year knowing exactly one person—my freshman sister.

Redwood High School was very different from the strict high school I had been attending. The whole atmosphere was intimidating.

Shortly after school began, I tried out for cheerleader. I didn’t even make first cuts. In October I went to an audition for a Christmas choir program. Before I even sang a note, the choir director asked me if I had ever been in a school choir. When my answer was no, I was ushered out the door and told thank you very much.

The one bright spot in my day was early-morning seminary, where I always felt welcome and accepted.

At school I worked hard and occasionally forced myself to contribute during classroom discussions. Eventually I made some friends and found a group to eat lunch with. I went to the ball games and school plays, volunteered during spirit week, and hung out at the dances. But I still never felt like I quite belonged.

I kept busy my senior year filling out college application forms, taking entrance exams, and applying for scholarships. Three weeks before graduation, Lee, the good-looking, iron-pumping, brainy debate team member and senior class president, called out to me after class and asked me to walk with him. I was stunned that he even knew my name.

As we walked he explained that he was the president of his church youth group. The group had been studying the religions of the world, and someone had expressed interest in learning about Latter-day Saints. Lee turned to face me and asked if I would deliver an hour-long presentation about the Church to his group.

Weakly I managed to reply, “You don’t want me to speak; who you really want is our missionaries. I’ll ask them for you.”

His response startled me, “We don’t want your missionaries. We want you. We know you, we’ve watched you, and we like who you are.”

Stunned again, I told Lee I would be glad to speak to his group.

The next five days were a flurry of preparation. My seminary teacher, my parents, and the missionaries helped me prepare to explain the basic principles of the gospel and how The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints differs from other churches. Knowing that Lee and his friends were forceful debaters who could be merciless against opponents, I also fasted and prayed for divine guidance.

The day of the presentation arrived. With scriptures in hand and a prayer in my heart, I entered the meeting hall. The 35 people in the room—kids from school, a few adults, and the pastor—all turned to look at me as I walked to the front. After Lee greeted me warmly and introduced me, I took a deep breath and began by telling the Joseph Smith story. A calm feeling filled the room, and for the next 45 minutes the words I spoke came smoothly and effortlessly. I ended by bearing my testimony of modern-day prophets, revelation, and the love Jesus Christ has for each of us.

Then, with great apprehension, I asked if there were any questions. Hands shot up all over the room. Oh boy, here it comes, I thought to myself. But to my surprise, none of the questions were hostile or quarrelsome. As I left the hall I knew that a power stronger than my own had directed the evening’s event.

Throughout high school I had always assumed that being popular meant dating cool guys, appearing in lots of yearbook pictures, or being prom queen. Through this experience, I finally realized that there is a different kind of popularity—popularity based on respect.

(Click.) “Dad! No! This show is so corny!”
(Click. Click. Click. Click.) “No … Dumb … Stupid … Nah …”
“Hey! Why’d you turn it off?!”
Ryan Stoker

Thanks for volunteering at our animal shelter! Are you ready to help some animals?
Yes!
This is going to be fun. Great idea, Margo!
Thanks! Helping animals makes me happy.
I’m glad! Jesus Christ made all living things. We need to take care of His creations.
That’s why I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up!
Now it’s time to go home and take care of our pet.
Kiwi must be hungry!
Illustrations by Katie McDee

It’s easy to survive the loss of some things—pencils, telephone numbers, even umbrellas—but when a name is accidentally left off a guest list, there’s only one thing to do—hurry over and make amends.
That’s why Lee Ann and Gloria were standing in front of Brother and Sister Facer’s doorway, knocking on the door. When the Facers answered, the two young women eagerly explained why they had come. “Our stake Mutual is having a Thanksgiving dinner for all the senior citizens in our stake, and we hope you will be able to come!”
“We’d love to!” exclaimed the older couple. “We haven’t had our children with us during the holidays in such a long time. What a special treat to be remembered by you young people. We’ll be there!”
As the two girls from the Taylorsville Utah First Ward, Taylorsville Utah Stake, walked back toward their homes, they breathed sighs of relief, knowing that at last all details were being taken care of.

A young bishop of my acquaintance can testify to the impact of unkempt appearance on those around us and its relationship to the drug culture. One evening last June, Bishop E. Wayne Nelson of the South Shore Ward in Griffith, Indiana, received a telephone call from a jailer in an Indiana city, fifty miles from his home. The jailer was holding two Mormon boys who were charged with possession of narcotics. Bishop Nelson made several visits as these young men waited in jail for their cases to be heard. He learned that both were from Utah, the sons of active Latter-day Saint parents. Both had tampered with drugs in this state. Both had adopted an unkempt appearance, including shoulder-length hair. Soon after they arrived in Gary, Indiana, to look for work, and while they were walking down a street, a peddler of narcotics approached them and invited them to make a purchase. Faced with that temptation at that time in that place, the boys chose not to resist. Soon after this transaction they were arrested and charged with possession of the drugs they had purchased. After the bishop heard their story in jail, he asked them, “Why do you think the peddler approached you?” One boy responded, “I guess it was our appearance; we just looked like users.” These young men had taken upon themselves the badges of the drug culture, and they were easily identified and approached by those who sought to profit from their weakness.

Barrigada Branch
The Primary children of the Barrigada Branch, Guam District, learned about the importance of scriptures. Each child was given a Book of Mormon and a scripture bag. The children marked scripture verses and decorated their scripture bags.

Station C: Missionaries give talks. Help the children practice giving a talk by using this four-step process: 1) choose a scripture, 2) tell what the scripture means, 3) relate a personal experience or scripture story that illustrates the point, and 4) bear testimony about it. If necessary, have the leader give an example, using these steps. Have the group choose a scripture. Ask someone to tell what it means. Have a second child share a personal experience or tell a scripture story about it. Have a child or the leader bear testimony of its principle. (For example: 1 Ne. 3:7 means that whatever the Lord asks me to do, I will do because I know that He will help me do it. One time I was invited to go to a birthday party on Sunday, but because I knew that the Lord wanted me to keep the Sabbath Day holy, I didn’t go. I felt good because I knew that I was being obedient. I know that when we keep His commandments, even when they are not easy to keep, we will be blessed.) Suggest using these steps to give talks in Primary now as preparation for speaking as a missionary in the future.

The youth in Ucon aren’t the only ones who knew that acting out scenes from the Book of Mormon could help to make the scriptures more meaningful. Youth from two stakes in Canada, the Calgary Alberta East Stake and the Medicine Hat Alberta Stake, spent time in wilderness areas near their homes for their annual youth conference reenacting different events from the Book of Mormon. The two youth conferences were similar in format and included reenactments of battles, holding to the iron rod (avoiding worldly temptations, which were represented by tempting candy and treats), and the appearance of Christ on the American continent.
The conferences weren’t all smooth, of course. The youth in Medicine Hat wandered through a “wilderness” so muddy that some of them had the shoes sucked right off their feet! But walking among the wildflowers on the Canadian prairie, listening to an actor playing Samuel the Lamanite, and writing their feelings during a private journal time gave the youth in both stakes a chance to really think about their testimonies of the Book of Mormon.
“I didn’t want to leave to go home when the conference was over,” said one participant. “We were surrounded with good feelings.”

But hidden somewhere in his brain was that pudgy, chinless, slouching character waiting to make an appearance. David started thinking about cartooning again when a friend encouraged him to do a couple of cartoons and take them to BYU’s student newspaper. The publisher liked the cartoons and began running them twice a week. David was kept busy coming up with new ones.

My wife, Raquel, and I have eight children and twelve grandchildren. They are our greatest joy in life. My oldest grandson, Mario, lives in Guadalajara, Mexico. One day in class, his Primary teacher asked, “Mario, who loves you?”
He answered without hesitation, “Jesus and my grandfather love me.” He was right. The essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ is love. We love those we serve, and we serve those we love. It all starts in the home. Jesus told us to love our neighbor, and who are our closest neighbors? Our own families. My brothers and sisters are still my best friends. I love my extended family, too, including my 130 first cousins. Tell your parents that you love them. Tell your grandparents that you love them. Then show them by your actions that you really mean it.

At a marriage in the temple one day, the power of covenants, coupled with the Atonement, was reflected in the temple mirrors. He imagined the generations of his family stretching across eternity, from his earliest known relative, First Dragon Gong, born AD 837, through 36 generations to his own grandchildren and then on and on in both directions.

“I began to understand my wife and myself as children of our parents and parents to our children, as grandchildren of our grandparents and grandparents to our grandchildren,” he said. “Mortality’s great lessons distill upon our souls as we learn and teach in eternal roles, including child and parent, parent and child.”

Some years ago a Reuters dispatch which appeared in the daily press mentioned how an American who wanted to trace his long-lost relatives in Great Britain succeeded—for the price of one airmail letter to London. Mike Archdale, age 25, Miles City, Montana, knew only that his grandfather Lionel Dawson Archdale had emigrated to the United States from Northern Ireland at the end of the nineteenth century. So Mike Archdale wrote to the only address he knew in London—the British Tourist Authority—and asked for help in finding his relatives.
His letter was opened at the tourist authority by a public relations officer—named Gilbert Archdale.
Gilbert Archdale did a little research and replied to Mike: “Hello. I’m your cousin!”
The rest is history.

I am a returned missionary and have been reading the New Era since I first arrived in the mission field. We were lucky enough to get a monthly supply of the magazine. I really enjoy it. All the vivid stories and testimonies of other Saints in the world uplift me, and I know they do the same thing for people in other areas.
Rasam B. GuntingSorsogon, Philippines

I am almost always at the piano—music is one of my favorite things. I love to go outside to run, hike, swim, anything. I also run a Latter-day-Saint-oriented Instagram account. I’ve learned to respect social media and use it for what it should be—uplifting one another! It can be hard to make friends. However, I’ve gained a lot of confidence from the example of Jesus Christ. I know that as I’ve tried to be like Him, I’ve gained many true friends.
Noah R., 17, Florida, USA

Stake and district presidents, along with bishops, went out to help their members only minutes after the earthquake. The terrible situation in which these priesthood leaders went out is worth highlighting: it was nighttime; the lights were out; destruction abounded; and the earth would not stop shaking. These magnificent priesthood leaders left their families secured and walked out into the darkness, among people who wept, surrounded by destroyed houses. Thus our leaders went out during the night and the following days, facing frequent, strong aftershocks and a tsunami warning. They searched among the rubble, in the midst of commotion, risking their own lives to get to all the members. A bishop declared, “Without as much as a second thought, I ran in search of my Church brothers and sisters and leaders.” He found them. That’s how he spent most of the night.

—And three cousins, Laura Walker, 12, of the Blacktown Ward; Rachel Alekna, 13, of the Baulkham Hills Ward; and Brooke Mauger, 13, of the Castle Hill Ward, explain how three generations have been brought closer together through the temple, right here and now.
“Our grandfather is a sealer at the temple,” Rachel says. “He comes every Tuesday. Our parents come all the time. Now we’re coming, too.”
“There are six of us who are cousins, all born within 12 months of each other,” Brooke explains. “Two times now, we’ve all come to the temple together. It’s great.”
“You get used to coming to the temple,” Laura says. “You feel reverent, but you also feel comfortable. You start to think about coming here with your husband someday, to be married for eternity.”

Another time we were stuck on a boulder in a bad set of rapids, and it seemed as though we might stay there forever. But after a prayer and a quick maneuvering of the boat, we broke free.