Gospel Story Finder

The first principle is to have a feeling of gratitude to Heavenly Father during the sacrament for the Atonement of His Son. The following story is told about passing the sacrament:
“The sacrament never really meant much to me until the Sunday I was ordained a deacon. That afternoon I passed the sacrament for the first time. Prior to the meeting, one of the deacons warned me, ‘Look out for Brother Schmidt. You may have to wake him up!’ Finally the time came for me to participate in the passing of the sacrament. I handled the first six rows quite well. Children and adults partook of the bread with no noticeable thought or problem. Then I got to row seven, the row where Brother Schmidt always sat. But I was surprised. Instead of being asleep he was wide awake. Unlike many of the others I had served, he took the bread with what seemed to be great thought and reverence.
“A few minutes later I found myself again approaching row seven with the water. This time my friend was right. Brother Schmidt sat with his head bowed and his big German eyes shut. He was evidently sound asleep. What could I do or say? I looked for a moment at his brow, wrinkled and worn from years of toil and hardship. He had joined the Church as a teenager and had experienced much persecution in his small German town. I had heard the story many times in testimony meeting. I decided finally to gently nudge his shoulder in hopes of waking him. As I reached to do so, his head slowly lifted. There were tears streaming down his cheeks and as I looked into his eyes I saw love and joy. He quietly reached up and took the water. Even though I was only twelve then, I can still remember vividly the feeling I had as I watched this rugged old man partake of the sacrament. I knew without a doubt that he was feeling something about the sacrament that I had never felt. I determined then that I wanted to feel those same feelings.”
Brother Schmidt had communicated with heaven, and heaven had communicated with him.

Dr. Heyerdahl—By this time I knew there was an error in the scientists’ claim that there were reed boats only in Egypt and Peru. I had discovered that they were used throughout Mexico at the time of its discovery; they were used in scattered areas of the Mediterranean, from Mesopotamia, Egypt, and in the islands of Greece and Sardinia, to the Atlantic coast of Morocco. This was a path, with short jumps, the longest of which is from Morocco to Central America. So if a reed boat could cross an ocean, then there was reason to believe that these reed boat parallels and other cultural parallels between the Americas and the Mediterranean had some basis other than independent evolution. Even in my explorings of Crater Lake on Easter Island, 2,000 miles from Peru, we discovered that the islanders had brought reeds from the irrigated swamps of Peru and planted them in local fresh water at about the time of Christ. These reeds were brought so that they could build reed boats identical to those on Lake Titicaca. This was a strong argument to me that a reed boat was navigable.
Also, my research has shown me that we are greatly mistaken if we think we are very much more intelligent than man at the time of ancient Mesopotamian and Egyptian high culture. I was convinced that the reed boat was a good boat; otherwise these people would never have built it, and they certainly wouldn’t have continued to build it for hundreds of years, even millennia. But once again I met the claims of scientists that such a boat was foolish. Even the Papyrus Institute in Cairo insisted that they had been testing papyrus in water tanks and that it absorbs water completely before two weeks. They had also tested papyrus in sea water, and the papyrus dissolved and deteriorated. But I knew from my Kon-Tiki experience that there is a big difference between the material and the boat. Just like iron—you drop it in the water and it sinks, but we build Queen Marys and giant war vessels of iron, and they float.
Dr. Heyerdahl—Yes, there is a relationship. However, in Kon-Tiki I set out to prove a theory. In the Ra expeditions I had no theory. I just wanted to find out if a voyage was feasible. You see, there was one thing that did not satisfy me completely, and that is that in Polynesia there seemed to be many links that tie up with the opposite end of the world—Asia Minor and Egypt. Ra, for example, the name of the sun in Polynesia, was also the name for the sun and sun god in ancient Egypt. And the characteristics of pyramid construction, sun worship, mummification, road building, and other elements that appear in South and Central America also appear on the other side of the Atlantic. This was of no direct concern to me until a congress of experts on American Indians met in Argentina about five years ago. I was asked to organize a symposium for and against the possibility of pre-Columbian contact with America from peoples across the Atlantic. Many reasons were drawn up showing why no contact could have been made. Well, one of the reasons involved a reed boat. It was pointed out that American Indians, at the time of their discovery by Europe and until recently on Lake Titicaca, built big boats of reed, identical with those used on the Nile by ancient Egyptians. But the experts said that since there was no possible way of navigating from Egypt to Peru, this merely showed independent invention of the two different peoples. Furthermore, they said, a reed boat would never hold up long enough for a trip. They said it wouldn’t even last two weeks. Well, it was the same story all over again—just like the balsa raft. I was convinced that science was wrong on the reed boat.

Hang on to the reality that you are not alone in your situation. As a teenager, I felt that my family and our problems were unique. When my best friend spent the night at my house, I worried that she would notice what I wanted to hide. Not until we were adults did I discover that her family had very similar problems to mine.

As I left the missionary training center in Provo, Utah, USA, I had a very long flight ahead of me, with three layovers before I would finally arrive in my mission in Recife, Brazil. When I landed in Rio de Janeiro for the last leg of my journey, I missed my flight. It was rebooked, but I was left with a 14-hour wait in a country I had never been in before, and I couldn’t say much in Portuguese.
Hours passed as I sat there feeling lonely, forgotten, and tired from all the flights. As I began to cry, a voice said to me, “Elder, pray!” I prayed for help harder than I ever had before. As I said “Amen,” I heard a man sitting directly behind me speaking English. I turned and tapped his shoulder. The man was a returned missionary from South Africa who was fluent in both English and Portuguese. We got something to eat together, and he helped me communicate with my mission president. He helped strengthen my testimony that God will never forget His children! I felt His love that day, and I can truly testify that He hears our prayers.
Sione T., Oregon, USA

I want to thank each of you—the translators and all those who help publish the Liahona. It is because of you that I have the blessing of holding the words of our prophets and the General Authorities in my hands.
I was baptized as a child but was lost to the Church for a long time. When I heard Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (in October 2004 general conference), he helped me believe that the Savior made it possible for me to be redeemed from my sins. I have experienced that change of heart spoken of by Alma, and my joy is complete.Araceli Arroyo Romero, Mexico

When I was recently assigned to a conference in the Mission Viejo California Stake, I was touched by an account of their four-stake New Year’s Eve youth dance. Following the dance, a purse was found with no outside identification. I share with you part of what Sister Monica Sedgwick, the Young Women president in the Laguna Niguel stake, recorded: “We didn’t want to pry; this was someone’s personal stuff! So we gingerly opened it and grabbed the first thing that was on top—hopefully, it would identify her. It did, but in another way—it was a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet. Wow! This told us something about her. Then we reached in for the next item, a little notebook. Surely this would give us answers, but not the kind we were expecting. The first page was a list of favorite scriptures. There were five more pages of carefully written scriptures and personal notes.”

The sisters immediately wanted to meet this stalwart young woman. They returned to that purse to identify its owner. They pulled out some breath mints, soap, lotion, and a brush. I loved their comments: “Oh, good things come out of her mouth; she has clean and soft hands; and she takes care of herself.”

They eagerly awaited the next treasure. Out came a clever little homemade coin purse made from a cardboard juice carton, and there was some money in a zippered pocket. They exclaimed, “Ahh, she’s creative and prepared!” They felt like little children on Christmas morning. What they pulled out next surprised them even more: a recipe for Black Forest chocolate cake and a note to make the cake for a friend’s birthday. They almost screamed, “She’s a HOMEMAKER! Thoughtful and service minded.” Then, yes, finally some identification. The youth leaders said they felt greatly blessed “to observe the quiet example of a young lady living the gospel.”

This account illustrates the commitment of our young women to Church standards. It is also an example of caring, interested, dedicated Young Women leaders all over the world. They are incredible!

The scene is a familiar one. You kneel by your bed, you pour out your heart to Heavenly Father, you close your prayer, and then you wait for an answer. Thoughts float around in your mind. Are they inspiration or just your own ideas?

Most 11-year-olds are already busy with school, household chores, and activities with friends. But Alexandra C., from the state of Durango, Mexico, wasn’t a typical 11-year-old. In addition to all the normal things young people do at that age, Alexandra was making money from her own business and serving in her community.

So how does a girl that young start her own company?

It began when Alexandra heard of some classes the Church offers to help people learn to be self-reliant. The group was mainly for people 18 and older, but Alexandra was determined to join. She loved the idea of learning how to get a job or start her own business.

Could it be that she, a girl still in elementary school, might not only shape her own future but also help people who had even less than she did? After all, many of the Church members she knew from her town had little education and few resources.

Alexandra joined a group called “Starting and Growing My Business,” one of three subjects offered. Rather than being taught by a teacher, the group was led by a facilitator—a fellow group member who guides the other members through the course and encourages discussion. Alexandra met with her group every week for three months.

Photographs courtesy of Alexandra C.

As Alexandra learned how to be both temporally and spiritually self-reliant, she began to look around at the needs in her area. She noticed that there weren’t enough recreational activities for all the kids in her town, so she saved up money and bought a small trampoline. Alexandra put the trampoline in a public area and started renting it out, using ideas she’d learned about marketing and finance in her course.

The trampoline became very popular in her community.

Alexandra started using her skills in other ways too. Because she’d shown great respect for all her group members and had followed through on all her commitments, Alexandra was trusted to facilitate a new group—a position normally held by people 18 or older.

When Alexandra became a facilitator, she was by far the youngest of the six participants in her group. She carefully studied the materials before each group meeting so she’d know how to best help her fellow group members. She took her new role seriously. “She would get anxious when her group didn’t arrive on time or when the video equipment didn’t work,” said her father, David.

Alexandra learned to balance homework, the trampoline business, and her facilitator role exceptionally well. And she thinks it was well worth it. “God blessed me when He made me a facilitator,” she said. For her, one blessing was to learn about loving those you serve.

That love led her to reach out to her group with a real desire for them to succeed. For instance, each time they met, group members made weekly commitments to apply what they studied to their businesses and then teach their families the gospel principles they’d learned. When participants in Alexandra’s group didn’t reach their goals or missed a class, she’d visit them in their homes to see if they were all right and to encourage them to fulfill their commitments. “I loved visiting my group members,” she said.

Alexandra’s dad added, “I marvel to see how my little daughter could feel so strongly about the well-being of those in need. She has great compassion for those she serves.”

Now a Beehive in Young Women, Alexandra has plans to expand her trampoline business to a nearby community. By learning to be more self-reliant and helping others do the same, she said she’s already started to see changes in herself and her new friends in her group. “My testimony of Christ has grown,” Alexandra said. “I feel more sure of myself, and I want to serve.”

Alexandra said that because of this training course, she’s more aware of who she really is and how she can serve. “I learned I could improve myself. And I loved to see all of the group members improving. I know they’ll be better off now; their businesses will improve. I know that the self-reliance training was revelation from God.”

For Alexandra, her testimony, self-worth, and service to others have definitely been things worth working for.

Cranbrook First and Second Wards
The Primary children in the Cranbrook First Ward and Cranbrook Second Ward, Cranbrook British Columbia Stake, brought books and helped assemble educational bags that were sent to children in Uganda.

Tyler McGill, 15, from Kingston, Massachusetts, is shy when he meets new people. He finds it hard to make friends because it is difficult for him to start conversations, so he tries to find something in common with people. “I have tried to overcome being shy by going to stake activities and participating more and communicating with the youth that I have more in common with,” he says.

Eli Hansen, 15, from Burley, Idaho, was taking an acting class in high school and thought Pirates would be fun. “I learned I have some talents I’ve never used before,” he says. “I didn’t know I could dance or sing. Now they’re getting me into the ward choir.”

My wife and I had taught our children to pray to Heavenly Father, but we did not attend any church regularly—we believed we could love God just as well in our home. Our lives began to change when two young missionaries came to my office in early March 1997.
They told me they would like to give me a special gift. I asked them to come to my home that evening when all my family would be there. That night they brought us not only a spiritual message, but the gift of the Book of Mormon.
During the subsequent weeks, the missionaries returned to our house many times. We learned to pray sincerely, we learned new commandments from the Lord, and finally we were invited to become members of the true Church of Jesus Christ. Baptism would be the first step in becoming associated with the Church.
My wife and I were baptized on March 26, 1997. Three months after our baptism, our bishop called me to be Sunday School president. I resisted, saying that I could not fulfill this calling because I wasn’t prepared for it. The bishop, however, persuaded me to accept this challenge and gave me the Sunday School manual to study.

One family found that added blessings came to them as they sought to receive a testimony of the divine calling of the prophet. Soon after hearing the news of the death of President Joseph Fielding Smith, the family knelt in prayer. “The father expressed thankfulness for having lived during the ministry of that great prophet. He then thanked the Lord for all the prophets who have lived and especially for President Harold B. Lee (the new president of the Church). He prayed that his children might become acquainted with the new prophet and study his teachings. ‘Bless these fine children, Father’ he prayed, ‘that they might follow those who follow the prophet and never do anything that President Lee would not do.’” (Marion P. Sorensen, “Teaching Children Through Prayer.”)

Your parents gave you a new cell phone for emergencies. You want to call your friend so the other kids at school can see your phone. What do you do?
Make some quick calls, just to show off your new phone.
Keep your phone in your backpack.

If your parents bought you a cell phone for emergencies, you shouldn’t use it to call friends. Also, other kids might feel bad if you show it off.

ARE YOU WEAK AND PUNY?
DO BULLIES PUSH YOU AROUND? BE THE STRONGEST BOY IN TOWN!
ORDER MR. HERCULES’ BODYBUILDING COURSE TODAY!!
SEND NO MONEY! ABSOLUTELY NO OBLIGATION!
Tracy sat in her bedroom, tugging at the end of a pigtail as she studied the advertisement in the comic book. In the ad were two photographs. The photo labeled “Before” showed a skinny boy with arms and legs like sticks. The other, labeled “After,” showed the same boy with enormous muscles popping out all over his body.
“Wow!” Tracy said. “I bet no one pushes him around anymore!” She thought of Buster Bailey, who liked to bully her as she walked home from school.
“I wish I could take Mr. Hercules’ free bodybuilding course. Then I’d really get Buster Bailey. But it’s only for boys.”
Tracy sprang up. “I know!” She tore out the ad and printed her name as only “T. Allison.” She addressed and stamped on envelope and put the ad inside it.
“Where are you going?” her mother called from the kitchen as Tracy opened the front door.
“For a walk,” Tracy said. She felt funny about not telling her mother what she was doing, but she didn’t want her to know about Buster Bailey. Her mother had enough to worry about. Tracy’s father had had an operation and was recovering very slowly. He had to stay in bed most of the time.
Tracy walked to the mailbox at the corner. I’m eleven years old, she thought. I can handle my own problems.
The next afternoon Buster was waiting for her as usual with his bike at the opposite end of the bridge. Tracy took a firm grip on her books and walked as fast as she could, pretending not to see him. But when she reached the center of the bridge, he got on his bike and headed straight for her, pedaling as fast as he could. She stopped and gritted her teeth. Within inches of running into her, Buster skidded sideways.
“I’m king of the bridge!” he shouted. “On your knees, peasant, and beg for safe passage, or I’ll throw your books into the river.”
Even though Buster was bigger than anyone else in their class, Tracy stood her ground and tried not to show that she was scared. She thought of the bodybuilding course. “You just wait, Buster Bailey,” she said. “One of these days I’m going to get you!”
“Bookworm,” he jeered. “Teacher’s pet.” After a few minutes of popping wheelies, he let her pass.
Every afternoon when Tracy got home, she stayed close to the front door and watched for the letter carrier. Luckily for her, the mail was delivered late in the day. A week after she sent in the ad, a bulky brown envelope addressed to Mr. T. Allison arrived. Tracy ran up the stairs to her room, shut the door, and opened the envelope.
Inside she found a letter, also a series of booklets titled Mr. Hercules’ Bodybuilding Course, filled with instructions and pictures of Mr. Hercules doing exercises, each more advanced than in the preceding booklet. Tracy didn’t understand all the words in the letter, but she understood the last line: “Please remit $45.00 within thirty days.”
Forty-five dollars! How could she possibly get forty-five dollars? She emptied her piggy bank on the bed and counted the money. Six dollars and thirty-eight cents. She couldn’t ask her parents for the money because they had lots of doctor’s bills. When she didn’t pay, would the police arrest her? Maybe Mr. Hercules himself would come looking for her!
That night she prayed for a miracle, and the next morning she woke up with an idea. She asked the neighbors if she could work for them. She weeded their gardens, swept their sidewalks, and washed their screens. She did errands and baby-sat. She saved every penny.
I’m working so hard, Tracy thought, I have a right to use the exercises. So every morning before breakfast and every night before bedtime, she took a booklet from the closet shelf where she kept them hidden and did the exercises. At first her muscles ached and she got tired after just a few minutes. She couldn’t do even one push-up. But she kept at it, and each day she could exercise a little longer. Soon she felt herself growing stronger.
The trouble is, Tracy thought as she walked home from school one afternoon, the exercises haven’t solved my problem with Buster Bailey. He’s always riding his bike, so I can’t get near enough to use my new muscles on him. She stepped onto the bridge and saw him waiting at the other end. When she reached the middle, he started toward her, coming faster and faster. This time he really would run into her! She jumped to one side. Buster twisted his wheel to stay in front of her, but the bike spun out of control and he was flung onto the pavement.
“Serves you right!” Tracy shouted.
Buster tried to get up and fell back, moaning. “My leg, my leg!”
Was he pretending? Maybe it was some sort of trick. But when she saw that he was crying, Tracy knew that he really was hurt. Buster would never cry, especially in front of a girl, if he could help it. “I’ll go get help,” she said.
“No! Don’t leave me, please!”
Tracy stared. “Why not?”
Gulping back his sobs, Buster blurted, “There’s this guy in sixth grade who’s out to get me. If he catches me off my bike …”
Tracy bit her tongue. Forgive your enemies, she reminded herself. She put down her books and helped Buster to his feet. “Lean on my shoulder, and try hopping on your good foot,” she told him. “My house is just down the street.”
They progressed very slowly toward Tracy’s house. She kept hoping that a car would stop and help them, but the street was deserted. “You’re heavy,” she said.
“And you’re strong,” he said, “for a girl.”
When they finally reached Tracy’s house, her mother took one look at Buster and phoned his home. While they were waiting for his father to arrive, Tracy’s mother asked what had happened. One thing led to another, and soon Tracy was pouring out the whole story about Buster, the body-building course, and the work she’d been doing to earn money.
“Wow!” Buster said. He was lying on the couch, his injured leg resting on pillows.
When Tracy showed her mother the book-lets, the letter, and the bill from Mr. Hercules, her mother frowned worriedly. “This is a big bill, Tracy. How much have you saved?”
Tracy tugged at a pigtail. “I only have twenty-seven dollars and thirty cents so far.”
“That was a very unwise thing to do, Tracy. Let’s write to Mr. Hercules and send him what you have,” her mother said. “When he learns the whole story”—she looked at Buster—“he might let you pay the rest when you can.”
To Tracy’s great relief, that’s exactly what Mr. Hercules agreed to.
Finally Tracy was able to pay her bill, but she learned a good lesson. Mr. Bailey asked Tracy to help Buster with summer school so that he could be promoted into fourth grade with the rest of their class, and Buster genuinely appreciated her help. Tracy was glad to help him—but this certainly wasn’t the way that she had planned to get Buster Bailey!

“Serving in the Church helped me get my testimony,” he said. His father, who served several times as branch president and bishop, was particularly instrumental in Bishop Caussé having a positive experience.
“When I was a teenager, he would involve me in doing home teaching or visiting families in need,” Bishop Caussé said. “Watching him was probably the best learning experience in preparing for priesthood leadership.”

Years ago while walking up Main Street with his father, Elder LeGrand Richards, then the Presiding Bishop of the Church, tipped his hat and greeted everyone. Upon arrival at their destination, President George F. Richards, then the President of the Council of the Twelve, said, “Son, do you know all those people?” Bishop Richards responded, “Yes, Daddy, I know them all—all but their names.”

As you all know, three months ago our beloved President Joseph Fielding Smith was called home to his great reward and to other duties. He was certainly a true servant of the Lord and a prophet of God, who from his childhood lived to the best of his ability the teachings of the gospel and kept his covenants. He was a man without guile, and his passing was as near a translation as possible.
The Thursday before his death he gave a powerful address to the seminar of the Regional Representatives and Mission Representatives assembled in Salt Lake City. Sunday, July 2, the day of his death, he attended his Sunday meetings in his ward and participated as usual. He returned home, and after his evening meal he sat in his favorite chair talking to his daughter and quietly passed from mortal life.

In recent months, general Church leaders have counseled together about strengthening Melchizedek Priesthood and Relief Society Sunday meetings. The result is a new curriculum titled Come, Follow Me—For Melchizedek Priesthood and Relief Society, which increases the use of general conference messages and extends the power of counseling into our priesthood quorums and Relief Societies.
“Where we were, we’ve done much good,” said Elder Christoffel Golden of the Seventy, who helped direct this change. “But the Lord wants us to move forward. Progress will come as a result of this shift to studying the words of living prophets and sitting in council.”

Inside-Out Grandma: A Hanukkah Story This story is about a Jewish family getting ready for a Jewish holiday called Hanukkah. It begins with Grandma wearing her clothes inside out so that she’ll remember to buy enough oil for latkes. It ends with a recipe for latkes, a kind of potato pancake.Joan Rothenberg4–8 years