Gospel Story Finder

In my past profession, I was a cardiologist specializing in heart failure and transplantation, with many patients who were critically ill. My wife jokingly says that it was a bad prognostic sign to become one of my patients. All teasing aside, I saw many people die, and I developed a kind of emotional distance when things went poorly. That way, feelings of sadness and disappointment were tempered.

In 1986 a young man named Chad developed heart failure and received a heart transplant. He did very well for a decade and a half. Chad did all he could to stay healthy and live as normal a life as possible. He served a mission, worked, and was a devoted son to his parents. The last few years of his life, though, were challenging, and he was in and out of the hospital frequently.

One evening, he was brought to the hospital’s emergency department in full cardiac arrest. My associates and I worked for a long time to restore his circulation. Finally, it became clear that Chad could not be revived. We stopped our futile efforts, and I declared him dead. Although sad and disappointed, I maintained a professional attitude. I thought to myself, “Chad has had good care. He has had many more years of life than he otherwise would have had.” That emotional distance soon shattered as his parents came into the emergency room bay and saw their deceased son lying on a stretcher. In that moment, I saw Chad through his mother’s and father’s eyes. I saw the great hopes and expectations they had had for him, the desire they had had that he would live just a little bit longer and a little bit better. With this realization, I began to weep. In an ironic reversal of roles and in an act of kindness I will never forget, Chad’s parents comforted me.

I learned important lessons about life through playing sports, whether I was shooting hoops with a friend or playing on basketball and football teams. One of the lessons I learned was how to make decisions. For example, I grew up loving to play basketball more than football and played college basketball for two years. When I was given the opportunity to participate in college football, I knew I had to commit to one or the other, and I had questions about what I should do.
My parents taught me that when I needed to make a big decision in my life, I should get out a piece of paper and a pencil, draw a line down the middle of the paper, and then write down the pros on one side and the cons on the other. After that, I was taught to call upon Heavenly Father to help inspire my thoughts. I learned to keep writing the pluses and minuses on both sides of the paper about the decision I was making, and to take my time. I found that as I did this with patience, it was amazing to see how the Lord revealed thoughts that were not originally there to help me with the process. Finally, when I made my decision, I went to the Lord again in prayer and took time to just listen, so I could sense if He agreed with my decision.
We don’t always understand what the Lord is revealing at the time that He’s giving us inspired thoughts. If you had asked me before I sought heaven’s help about my decision, and I had been told to stop playing basketball and to start playing college football, I would have thought, “Are you crazy? Why would I do that?” But that was the prompting the Lord gave me. Even though I didn’t know why, I knew by the confirming feeling in my heart that I was doing what the Lord wanted me to do. I had gone through a process that allowed me to have confidence in my choice. That knowledge helped me through some rough times.

Many years ago I found myself as part of occupation troops in a foreign land just at the end of a terrible war. It was not long after we arrived in this country before we developed a great love and concern for the people we were there to watch over. This was especially true of the young people, the children. Many times we would find them scavenging in our garbage cans looking for food to keep themselves alive. This deeply touched us, and we wanted to make a more substantial contribution to them. We raised what money we could and found a local religious group that was willing to open an orphanage for them. We donated as much time as possible to improve the facilities and provided them with the operating funds they needed.
As Christmas approached, we sent letters home to our families asking that, instead of sending gifts to us, they send toys for the children in the orphanage. The response of our families was overwhelming! Toys arrived daily from our homes.
We found a tree suitable to use as a Christmas tree, but we had no traditional decorations for it. A lady taught us how to make little birds by folding square pieces of paper, and these became the major part of the decorations for the tree. The presents were wrapped mostly in discarded Stars and Stripes newspapers. I’ll never forget Christmas Eve with those children. I am sure many of them had never seen a Christmas tree in their lives.
We sang Christmas carols to them, but we weren’t very good at this. They had been rehearsing for weeks so they could sing a song to us in English. It was not a Christmas carol, but it was beautiful. They sang, “You Are My Sunshine.” We were deeply touched with the spirit of the children that Christmas Eve, especially as they opened the presents sent from our families. I suppose some of them had not had a toy in many, many years.
This is a Christmas I’ll never forget because we were learning the true meaning of this great holiday season. The greatest joy we can receive in life is giving—to bring into the life of someone else a little joy and happiness.

I have found that procrastination is real habit forming and gets easier the more we do it. I decided I hated the feeling of not getting things done. I went to my school teachers and asked them for upcoming assignments that I could start on, enabling me to complete them on time. I found that I could accomplish anything I put my mind to as long as I allowed enough time.
Elder Nathan Hicks, 20Texas Dallas Mission

Before that time, our family lived on a ranch in southern Utah. Life was very simple then, and just about everything I did—even my entertainment—was related to ranch work. For example, one Christmas I received a little ax I could chop wood with. In the winter we used the wood to heat the house.

Sadly, Ethel passed away in 1937. At the time of her death, there were five unmarried children in the home. Elder Smith felt impressed to seek another wife and companion. In 1938 he married Jessie Evans Smith in the Salt Lake Temple.
One who knew them well wrote: “Despite a difference of twenty-six years in their ages and differences in temperament, background, and training, Joseph Fielding and Jessie Evans Smith were remarkably compatible. … The thing that bridged the wide gulf between these two disparate personalities was the genuine love and respect they had for each other.”10 (See pages 6–23 of the manual.)

As we look at Brigham Young and reflect upon the inspiration and direction that came to that most unusual man, we recall how he was able to fill the tragic void caused by the death of the Prophet Joseph Smith, how he stepped in and was able under inspiration and revelation to guide and direct the closing of Nauvoo and the planning of the trip west. We remember the continued work there at that time on the Nauvoo Temple and the way that was organized to move forward, with the wagon trains crossing the West and into the Salt Lake Valley into what would become the Zion where they could worship and teach and preach and build the meetinghouses and all that would be needed for this civilization and for this culture that we have, to expand and grow here.
Think of the inspiration that came to the prophet Brigham Young for those people not to just build up a big city in Salt Lake, but to move out into these other settlements. He had the genius to have people go out and look for the valleys and the areas away from Salt Lake City where the pioneers who would pour into this valley could go and settle and make their homes and build cities and communities and build their personalities and their characters and develop the talents that would be theirs. So rather than having a large city in Salt Lake, under his leadership some 360 communities were developed out in Wyoming and Nevada and Arizona and southern Idaho as well as in Utah.
As people moved out and set up in these little communities, they developed their talents and abilities by serving on school boards and on town councils or became leading people in a little town. They became citizens of that area, and they started building schools and expanding those communities. We see what has happened in these areas that Brigham Young envisioned and which he helped set in motion. Just think of how that has developed—of the developing of a settlement, for example, in Las Vegas, Nevada, so that people could go down to San Bernardino, California. The people could come by ship into San Pedro, California, go to San Bernardino to be outfitted and helped with the equipment necessary to come into this valley, and then into the outlying communities, down into Sanpete County or up into Idaho or elsewhere.

The second springtime after we had begun the project was especially memorable for us. The mechanical work was nearly completed. The family just had to hear, see, and feel the Auburn in action. After carefully oiling each cylinder and bearing, we rolled the car out into the beautiful, warm, Saturday-morning sun. Because of the tightness of the newly poured lead bearings, rods, and piston rings, the starter couldn’t turn the engine over; so we had to tow the car a few blocks to get it started. It was like Christmas to a five-year-old. The family celebrated the halfway goal we had set for ourselves and each took a turn driving the Auburn around the yard. None of us (and probably none of the neighbors) will ever forget that thrilling morning when the King again roared to life.

One evening a single sister, Cynthia, felt prompted to go and see a sister she visit taught. The sister wasn’t home. As Cynthia walked home, she noticed a nurse outside a hospital with two children, both serious-burn victims. When Cynthia heard the nurse call the little girl’s name, a flash of recognition crossed her mind: she had known these two children as a missionary in Bolivia four years before. Becoming reacquainted on the lawn of the hospital, it was obvious the children were healing physically, but without any family support, they were suffering emotionally. Cynthia began visiting the children and nurturing them. Heeding the prompting of the Spirit, Cynthia became God’s instrument for blessing two homesick children.

My family lived in the city, but when I was a teenager, I stayed with my uncle during the summers. He managed a cattle ranch with about four thousand cattle. In Argentina, cowboys are called gauchos. All summer I dressed like a gaucho, rode horses like a gaucho, and worked like a gaucho.
At the ranch, I was given the responsibility to ride all of the horses that were kept for visitors. I remember one horse that was very good for working with cattle but very tough mouthed. That means that he did not respond very well to the bit. It was difficult for a rider to control him. One day, I took him out first thing in the morning. When horses go out to work, they are sometimes a little bit like we are. They don’t go out with a great deal of enthusiasm when it is so early.
I usually switched horses around midday. I had been fighting with this horse all morning, so when it was time for me to go back and switch horses, I thought, If you want to run, I’m really going to make you run! I hit him, and he took off—running at full speed! The only problem was that we were coming up on a gate made of large beams. I pulled on the reins, trying to slow him down. But I had forgotten that when horses are heading for home they are much more excited than when they are heading out. That horse was going home, and nothing was going to stop him! He crashed into the gate—but was unhurt—as I flew onto the ground.
The horse I rode on my uncle’s ranch that day had to follow the right path. The ranch was enormous, around ten thousand acres, and if the horse had not stayed on the path, he could have gotten lost. It was good for that horse to go home, but he also needed to go through several gates—not crash into them!

I felt so different from everyone my age. Even if I was invited to hang out with friends and my parents encouraged me to go, I struggled to have fun because I felt guilty that my parents had so much to do at home. Other times I would have a hard time enjoying myself when Barbara was struggling with her health. Most of the time, I just wanted a friend to sit down with me and listen.
Sometimes I felt like no one understood what I was going through. But a few things helped remedy that loneliness. I decided I’d try to reach out to people who might be feeling similarly. When I did go to activities or church, I tried to include those who were sitting alone or who looked like they were having a bad day. As Elder Gerrit W. Gong of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Miracles occur when we care for each other as He would.”1 And I saw miracles come into my life. I felt much more comfortable going to activities and was happier when I offered love to others.

Several years ago Sister Packer and I determined that we should get our records in order. However, under the pressure of Church responsibilities with my travels about the world, and the obligations with our large family and a home to keep up both indoors and outdoors, there just was not enough time. But we were restless about this family history responsibility, and finally we determined that somehow we would have to make more time in the day.
During the Christmas holidays when we had a little extra time, we started. Then as we moved back to a regular schedule after the holidays, we adopted the practice of getting up an hour or two earlier each day.
We gathered together everything we had, and in the course of a few weeks we were amazed at what we were able to accomplish. The thing that was most impressive, however, was the fact that we began to have experiences that told us somehow that we were being guided, that there were those beyond the veil who were interested in what we were doing. Things began to fall into place.
As I have traveled about the Church and paid particular attention to this subject, many testimonies have come to light. Others who assemble their records together are likewise having similar experiences. It was as though the Lord was waiting for us to begin.
We found things we had wondered about for a long time. It seemed as though they came to us almost too easily. More than this, things that we never dreamed existed began to show up. We began to learn by personal experience that this research into our families is an inspired work. We came to know that an inspiration will follow those who move into it. It is just a matter of getting started.
Once we started, we found the time. Somehow we were able to carry on all of the other responsibilities. There seemed to be an increased inspiration in our lives because of this work.
The Lord will bless you once you begin this work. This has been very evident to my family. Since the time we decided that we would start where we were, with what we had, many things have opened to us.

In our Primary presentation one year I played the piano for “I Lived in Heaven.” The next year I led the sign language for “I Love to See the Temple.” The next year my goal was to learn “If I Listen with My Heart.” I know the Lord gave me talents and I should develop them and use them to bless others—then my talents will grow. I know that I am a daughter of God and that Jesus Christ gave His life for me.
Luna Marisol I., age 8, Argentina

She referred to her missionary daughter’s increased enthusiasm for the holy scriptures. “I am excited that Mom will be talking about scripture study,” her daughter wrote. “I feel like one of the ways I’ve changed the most is in the way I study my scriptures. I love studying the scriptures now. … I can hardly explain it, except that it is like Alma 32:28 where the words become delicious. I used to like them and now I love them.”

Being Head Girl (which is similar to student-body president) means a lot to Laura Gilmour of Lochwinoch, Renfrewshire, Scotland. “It’s not the easiest thing I have ever done,” she says. “There are a lot of activities and seminars to help organise, but I really enjoy doing it.”
In addition to leadership responsibilities, Laura keeps up with her seminary studies, is learning violin, bass guitar, and attends numerous science-oriented conferences.

From his childhood, John Sears Tanner has found joy in learning.
That excitement has extended to his education, career, and his many opportunities to teach the gospel: first as a missionary in the Brazil South Mission and then as a bishop, stake president, high councilor, Gospel Doctrine teacher, president of the Brazil São Paulo South Mission (which concludes this summer), and now as first counselor in the Sunday School general presidency.

How do we hallow the Sabbath day? In my much younger years, I studied the work of others who had compiled lists of things to do and things not to do on the Sabbath. It wasn’t until later that I learned from the scriptures that my conduct and my attitude on the Sabbath constituted a sign between me and my Heavenly Father. With that understanding, I no longer needed lists of dos and don’ts. When I had to make a decision whether or not an activity was appropriate for the Sabbath, I simply asked myself, “What sign do I want to give to God?” That question made my choices about the Sabbath day crystal clear.

“No. Mine!” Eli said loudly and pushed his little fist into my shoulder, hard. “Susie is my bear,” I shouted back. “Grandma gave her to me for my birthday!” I turned away from Eli so he could not grab the bear from me. Then I yelled for Mom.
“Susie, mine! No Hannah!” Eli told Mom with a frown.
“Hannah, I know Susie is your bear,” Mom said. “But Eli doesn’t understand. Could you at least let him hold her today, since it’s his birthday?”
That didn’t sound fair to me. When Susie was new, Eli was just a baby. I let him carry her around and sleep with her in his bed. Pretty soon Eli thought that Susie was his own special bear. He wouldn’t share her with me anymore—not ever.
“Mom, Eli is two years old now,” I said. “He should know how to take turns.”
“We’re going to have to think about this,” Mom said. Then she put Susie up high in the closet so we wouldn’t keep fighting.
That afternoon, when Eli was taking his nap, Mom and I had a good idea. “This means that when you want to play with Susie, you will have to ask Eli,” Mom reminded me.
“I know,” I said. Mom gave me a hug. Then we went down to the basement and found some tissue paper and a bag. Mom let me decorate the bag with markers. “This is going to be so fun for Eli,” I said.
When Eli woke up, we brought him into the living room. “Hannah has a special surprise for you, Eli,” Mom said.
I handed him the bag and he pulled out the tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag he found Susie.
“Susie. Hannah. Me!” Eli said. He smiled and laughed and did his happy dance. He hugged Susie again and again.
“Susie is your bear now,” I told him. “Happy birthday.”
That night Mom and I watched Eli fall asleep with Susie in his arms. Mom squeezed my hand and I felt warm inside. But I wondered how long it would be until Eli would let me play with Susie again.

I am now a great-grandmother, but I shall never forget a Christmas I experienced as a young child.
I was one of 14 children in my family, and we lived in a farming town. We were very poor as far as worldly goods are concerned, though I didn’t know it then. A family in our town was even poorer than we were. The mother had died, and the father was working away from home, leaving the older children to care for the younger ones.
After we had opened our Christmas gifts, my father spoke to us about this motherless family and how they might not receive gifts. He suggested that each of us choose one of our new gifts to be placed in a box, along with food and other goodies, for this family.
I had three presents—a doll, a necklace, and an article of clothing. What a hard decision it was for me! I needed the clothing, and I wanted the doll badly, but the necklace was so pretty and sparkly. After a time, I reluctantly dropped the necklace into the box.
It was dark on Christmas night when Dad buttoned our coats and placed all of us in our horse-drawn sleigh. We left the box on this family’s doorstep, with no indication of the giver.
The next Sunday, I saw the necklace around the neck of a girl my age. She excitedly told me that Santa had left a box of gifts for them on Christmas night. Of course, my parents had sworn us to secrecy. Dad had told us that being anonymous was the best part of giving. But I can’t say it felt that good to see what had been my necklace on someone else’s neck.
Though it wasn’t an easy lesson then, I now realize the great impact this experience has had on my life. As a child I thought my father was asking me to give up a gift, but later I understood that he was actually giving me one of the most precious gifts I have ever received. How much he must have loved me, to teach me that loving someone is far more important than having something! My father’s example of love has helped me understand the love of Heavenly Father, who presented us the greatest gift of all when He gave His Only Begotten Son.

Several years later a friend of mine, Cleiton Lima, was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He did not mention this to me even though we were good friends, but as time went by, I began to see changes in him. On Sundays I usually went to his house in the morning so we could play soccer, but I could never find him at home. This happened two or three Sundays in a row. Finally Cleiton told me that he could no longer play soccer on Sundays because he was honoring the Lord’s day. I told him, “This church is making you crazy.”

Then Cleiton invited me to attend church. I gave him an excuse because I was still disenchanted with religion. For 10 months, Cleiton brought over missionaries to teach me, but I always excused myself or told them I was too busy. But he never gave up.

One day in June, he invited me to attend a Church dance. I teased him, “Is there going to be free food and a lot of girls?” Laughing, he said yes!

I have to admit that I was defeated by my stomach. I visited the church and loved it. I was welcomed by everyone, I ate a lot, and I became interested in attending a meeting. When I arrived at church on Sunday, I met many people and heard their testimonies. I was not familiar with the Book of Mormon, but I felt the Spirit of the Lord when various Church members testified that they know the Book of Mormon is true, that this is the Church of Jesus Christ, and that Joseph Smith was a prophet called by God. I had never felt so good. I still did not want to meet with the missionaries, but that testimony meeting touched me.