Gospel Story Finder

Our sons are all under the age of ten, and sometimes their youthful enthusiasm makes family home evening a bit of a challenge. One night after an especially difficult time trying to keep the Spirit with us during our lesson, I knelt in prayer for some guidance. The answer came to me immediately: we needed to read the scriptures. Up to this point, we had not read the scriptures in home evening for fear of losing our young children’s attention. But at that moment I knew we had misjudged their ability to love and appreciate the scriptures.
The next week at family home evening we began our new tradition—our “scripture of the week.” In preparation, I selected a favorite scripture and printed it in large letters on a big sheet of brightly colored paper. That night, I displayed the sign and read its words: “Therefore, strengthen your brethren in all your conversation, in all your prayers, in all your exhortations, and in all your doings” (D&C 108:7).
Our family repeated the scripture together. Then I explained why the scripture was important to me and how it could bless our lives. The Spirit was strong, and we enjoyed its peaceful presence during the rest of the evening.
The next morning at breakfast, all eyes were drawn to our “scripture of the week” sign, which I had taped to the kitchen cupboards. Once more, we reviewed our scripture and its meaning and rehearsed it aloud.
A few days later, I was surprised to hear my son reciting our “scripture of the week” from memory. Suddenly I realized that, without planning to do so, I had memorized the scripture, too. Somewhere between our introduction of the “scripture of the week” and our testimony of it, our minds had been opened to receive its words, our hearts had been lightened by its message, and our home had been blessed by its spirit.

Anton watched as the computer screen loaded level six for what seemed like the millionth time. He took a deep breath and started moving through the maze, flying over colorful spikes and through fiery tunnels. He tapped his foot faster as he got closer and closer to the finish line.
“Anton?” It was Mom’s voice. She sounded like she needed something.
Not now! he thought. He jumped over another spike and sped deep through another tunnel. “Yes?” he said, not moving his eyes from the screen.
“Would you please get Felix into his pajamas and read him a story? I’ve got to finish cleaning up the kitchen.”
“Um … ” He was so close! He curved through one last spiky corridor, over another flame, past a chomping monster, and … YES! Across the finish line!
The computer loaded level seven. It looked harder, but Anton couldn’t wait to try it. He had worked so hard to reach this level. Anton hit the pause button and looked up at Mom, who was holding his little brother, Felix. “Can I have a few more minutes? I just got to level seven!”
“I really need your help,” Mom said. “You can do one more level after you take care of Felix.”
Felix smiled. “Pwease?” he said in his tiny two-year-old voice.
Anton looked at the computer screen and sighed. “All right.” He’d just have to hurry so he could get back to his game.
He lifted Felix and carried him up the stairs to their room.
“Who’s my favorite baby brother?” he said, poking Felix’s squishy baby tummy. He blew on Felix’s stomach and smiled as Felix squealed with laughter.
Anton dressed Felix in his favorite blue pajamas. Then he lifted Felix into bed and headed for the door. Mom had told him to read Felix a story too, but he had done the important part. Maybe now he could get in two more levels before bedtime.
Just then Anton felt a tug on his shirt. He looked down and saw that Felix had climbed out of bed.
“Bear?” Felix asked. He ran to his basket of books and brought back a book with a bear on the front.
“Aw, Felix, I’ve got things to do!” Anton said. Felix held the book above his head, looking up at Anton with his big blue eyes.
Anton couldn’t help but grin. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you? Well, OK.”
Anton sat down on Felix’s bed, and Felix climbed up into his lap. Anton opened to the first page and read while Felix leaned against him. Felix pointed to each animal on the page and practiced saying its name. “Zee-ba … famingo … wah-wus.”
When it was over, Anton closed the book and tucked Felix’s blanket around him. “Good night, Felix,” he said, kissing Felix on the head and standing to go.
But as he walked toward the door, he heard that little voice again. “Snuggle?”
Anton smiled. “OK. Scoot over. I’ll stay for a bit.”
Anton lay down on the pillow. At least for now, he didn’t really feel like doing anything else. He smiled when Felix gave a big yawn and closed his eyes. He felt the happiest he’d been all day. His game could wait.

Theresia Mangels, an elderly widow, lived alone in an apartment in northern Germany. One evening she heard a knock at her door and opened it to find two young men standing there. Remembering that she still had a book their colleagues had left years before, she invited them in, then went to find the book. When she tried to return it, they grinned and refused to take it, telling her the book was actually from another church. They were from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, they said, and asked if they could give her an important message. She was a bit lonely and, besides, they were such nice young men. She agreed to listen.
They taught her that evening about someone named the Prophet Joseph Smith, but their message confused her. Visions and gold plates and angels—it all seemed so strange. They asked if they could come back another time, and she almost said no. But she decided to give them one more chance.
When they returned, they said they were going to teach her about the purpose of life and God’s plan of salvation. That sounded interesting. And then they started talking about something she had never heard of before: a premortal existence where all of us lived with God. It was as if a light went on in her soul. This doctrine was true. She could feel it. And it explained so many things she had wondered about but her church had never been able to clarify. From then on, everything the missionaries taught made perfect sense, and when they invited her to be baptized, she accepted eagerly.

During that same Saturday afternoon leadership meeting, I noticed some youth slip into the meeting and reverently and attentively listen to the teachings and discussion. I was surprised to see them, as those invited to the leadership meeting were adult district and branch council members, and typically youth are not anxious to sit through long additional Church meetings, especially when not directed at them. After the meeting, we went to meet these fine young people and to learn more about them. I was astonished to learn that they had just arrived on a public transportation bus from seven hours away. They had come straight to the meetinghouse with the desire to feel the Spirit during this weekend district conference. It was obvious that they were full of joy at being in the midst of fellow members of the Church far from their homes in the north of Namibia. Several were new converts, and several were actively preparing to serve missions despite living in a town where there was no organized unit of the Church. They were led by a wonderful returned missionary who radiates the joy of the gospel and is appropriately named Happy. Immediately following the Sunday session of the conference, this impressive group of young people would once again get on a bus for the seven-hour return journey so they could be home in time for school and work on Monday. I marveled at their willingness to journey from so far at great personal sacrifice to hear the word of the Lord and am delighted to know that now in their own town of Ongwediva, we have since organized a branch of the Church.

I went with my family to an orphanage in Mexico to help with some work projects. I helped by working in the garden, painting the bunk beds, and laying cement with my dad and brothers.
There are lots of helpers at the orphanage. Every day they make 400 meals and do 70 loads of laundry. They are just like our family only they have 124 kids. They are very happy and I had lots of fun playing with the kids.
When Jesus was on the earth He gave us the commandment to love others as He loves us. When I was at the orphanage I learned that when we follow this commandment we’re happy. I am thankful that I could go to Mexico and see that by following Heavenly Father’s commandments I will be happy.

Jim and Marian spent much of their time determining who was making the greatest contribution to their marriage. They believed that a marriage would work only if it was a 50–50 relationship. Neither felt that the other was being fair. Each was constantly upset about how little the other partner gave to the marriage.
When Jim and Marian changed their focus from how much they each could receive to how much they each could give, their marriage began to improve. Mormon said that “charity is the pure love of Christ” and that charity “seeketh not her own” (see Moro. 7:45, 47). A principle for making this work is found in the Sermon on the Mount: “Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets” (Matt. 7:12).
To make this work, Jim and Marian each needed to find out what the other really wanted. Marian had a romantic nature and valued thoughtful notes, an occasional flower, and frequent verbal reminders that she was loved. By contrast, Jim felt that he best said “I love you” by fixing things around the house, keeping the yard neatly groomed, and providing financial security for the family. Neither of these orientations is superior to the other. Once they learned that the “language of love” was different for each of them, they began to speak each other’s language. As a result, they began to see each other’s contributions to the marriage as fair.

Understanding the Atonement. Sister Bayelita Carmen Ituza Casa of Perú, attending the Perú MTC: “In our class, we had an assignment to sketch an outline explaining the Atonement. But I had never clearly understood the Atonement, so I couldn’t do it—and I wasn’t the only one. When our outlines were due, our teachers helped us. I could tell we were more important than the assignment. We studied D&C 19:16–19, and I was able to understand the great love Jesus Christ has for us.”

“A friend in my ward was less active. He was having family problems and stopped coming to church and Mutual. One week, another friend and I went to invite him to church. He said he didn’t want to come, but we kept at it every week. More people from our quorum started joining us and we had 2–5 people every week inviting him to church. After a year of invitations, he came with us! He has been coming to church more than before and back to Mutual activities! Never give up because the best things take time!”
Trent D., 16, Utah, USA

Sharing the gospel message is one of the most rewarding ways we can render service to those who are not of our faith. I recall a childhood experience with someone I will simply call Uncle Fred.
When I was six years old, Uncle Fred was my worst nightmare. He was our neighbor, and he was always drunk. One of his favorite pastimes was to throw rocks at our home.
Because my mother was a great cook, single adult members from our small branch frequented our home. One day when Uncle Fred was sober, these members befriended him and invited him into our home. This development terrified me. He was no longer just outside but inside our home. This happened a few more times until, finally, they were able to convince Uncle Fred to listen to the missionaries. He accepted the gospel and was baptized. He served a full-time mission, returned with honor, pursued further education, and was married in the temple. He is now a righteous husband, father, and priesthood leader. Watching Uncle Fred today, one would find it difficult to believe that he once brought nightmares into the life of a six-year-old boy. May we always be perceptive to opportunities to share the gospel.

It was a warm fall day in 1961. Bobby and his friend Jeff were walking home from a Cub Scout den meeting. Bobby was feeling good. It had been a fun meeting. They had talked about the Cub Scout Promise. Their leader let them draw pictures on a chalkboard to show what the Cub Scout Promise meant to them. Bobby had drawn a picture of a smiling Scout taking out the trash. That was how he could “help other people.”

“What did you draw?” Bobby asked Jeff. “I forgot.”

“I drew a Cub Scout going to church,” Jeff said. “He was doing his ‘duty to God.’”

“Oh, yeah.” Bobby looked down and noticed chalk dust on the sleeve of his uniform. He brushed it off. He was proud of his uniform. When he wore it, he felt like someone important. He tried to take good care of it.

Jeff thrust his hand into his pocket. “Hey, what is this?” He pulled out a long stick of chalk. It was the chalk he had used to draw on the blackboard at Scouts. “Oops. Guess I’ll have to return this next week.”

Bobby reached for the chalk. “Give it to me for a second.” He put the chalk between his index and middle fingers and brought it up to his lips. Then he looked away and pretended to blow smoke. “Who do I look like?” he asked, repeating the action.

Jeff laughed. “The cowboy guy on that billboard ad.”

“Yeah, look at me. I’m cool.” Bobby strutted around, puffing on his chalk stick. Just then a car drove by and honked. The car was full of teenagers who waved at him and cheered.

“Who are they?” Jeff asked. “Do you know them?”

“No,” Bobby said. “And I don’t want to. They are the tough kids at the high school.” Bobby handed the chalk back to Jeff. “Here. You keep this.”

They walked home in silence.

When Bobby walked through the front door of his house, his mother was waiting for him, arms folded. “Sit down, Son,” she said. “We need to talk.” They sat on the couch. “I just got a phone call from Sister Jensen. She was on her way home from the store and saw you and Jeff standing on the corner. She said you were smoking cigarettes.”

Bobby moaned. “It was chalk, Mom. We were just pretending. Honest.”

“Where is the chalk now?”

“Jeff has it. We accidentally brought it home from the den meeting. You can ask him.”

“I will. But first I want to know why you would pretend to be smoking.”

Bobby squirmed. “Well I thought it would make me feel cool. Like that guy on TV.”

“Did it?”

“Just for a minute. Then I felt really stupid.”

“I didn’t think you really had been smoking,” Mom said, putting her arm around Bobby. “But can you see how even looking like you’re doing wrong can get you into trouble? The Apostle Paul taught that we should avoid the very appearance of evil.”*

“That’s only half of it, Mom. While I was pretending to smoke, some obnoxious teenagers drove by and cheered. I felt dirty and ashamed. Why did they do that? I’m not like them. I never want to be like them.”

“But they thought you were. Which is another reason to avoid the appearance of evil. Evil attracts evil. If people making bad choices think you are doing bad things, too, they’ll encourage you to keep doing worse things. You want good friends who will encourage you to do your best.”

“D.Y.B.” Bobby smiled. “Do your best.” That was the Cub Scout Motto and something Bobby’s mother said to him every morning when he walked out the door. “But what do I do now, Mom? Do I need to repent? I didn’t really do anything wrong. I just pretended.”

“I think you still need to undo any wrong impressions you gave. Why don’t you call Sister Jensen and apologize for acting the way you did?”

Bobby sighed. “OK.”

“And from now on, try to be so good that there will be no doubt in the minds of those teenagers what you really stand for and whom you follow. And return the chalk, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And tell Jeff what you learned from all this. By the way, what did you learn?”

“Well, my Primary teacher once told us you can’t do bad and feel good.”

“That’s true. In the Book of Mormon, Alma taught, ‘Wickedness never was happiness.’”†

“But I’ve learned that there’s even more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve learned that you can’t even pretend to do bad and still feel good.”

I happen to know a girl who did just that. One night in Mutual Janie heard the announcement that the money for youth conference was due by the end of the month and anyone planning to go should turn it in as soon as possible. Janie didn’t think too much about it because she knew that as a Beehive she wasn’t old enough to go to youth conference anyway, but she overheard a girl from one of her classes at school say, “Naw, I can’t go to that. My dad is out of work right now, and we haven’t got that kind of money.” Janie went home from Mutual that night really upset. It just didn’t seem fair that a nice girl like that should have to miss out. She went to her dad and asked if there was something she could do to help the girl—a girl she knew only by name. She and her dad worked out a plan so that she could earn the money. When she had enough, Janie found a way to slip it into the girl’s school books one day with a note that simply said, “This is for you. Have fun at youth conference.” Can you imagine how much fun Janie had with that? I think she enjoyed it more than if she had gone herself. And you know, it’s a funny thing. That girl never found out where the money came from, but she and Janie somehow became best of friends that year in school. Do you see what had happened? Janie had made an investment in someone outside herself, and the returns were a new friend.

“They told us that being in the series would strengthen our testimonies,” said Cyndi Andreason, who plays Lisa Parker, “but I didn’t understand how it would.” She was soon to find out. When they began filming, Cyndi was going through a period of questioning. “I was active in the Church and I did everything,” she relates, “But I had a lot of doubts. I wondered if it was really worth the effort.”

After working more than 300 hours on the series, Cyndi realized that it was, indeed, worth the effort. “I saw what can happen when you don’t follow the teachings of the Church, and I didn’t want that to happen to me,” she said. Cyndi is probably more like the cheerful, obedient character she plays than anyone else in the series, except maybe for Dan Wilcox, who plays the part of Benjamin Parker, Lisa’s cousin.

As a young man, I remember my mother placing her and my father’s temple clothes on the kitchen table. She would then take a temple robe and carefully iron each pleat on an ironing board. She always took her time. This is one of my earliest memories as a youth.
At the time, I did not fully appreciate the temple, but as I watched my mother iron her and my father’s temple clothes, I could see how important the temple was to them. Their example taught me how sacred the temple is and how vital it is to “stand … in holy places, and be not moved” (Doctrine and Covenants 87:8).

Traffic in Santo Domingo is congested and noisy. Motorcycles, cars, and trucks make frequent use of their horns. At the start of our mission, our apartment was located at a busy intersection. During heavy commute times the traffic on this road is bumper-to-bumper. Motorcycles honk at every intersection. Cars honk the moment the signal turns green. Buses and semitrucks are especially loud and honk when they see the light change. The concrete apartment buildings here amplify the clamor. The traffic eases up at night, but some cars and motorcycles take advantage of the chance to gun their engines and race down the road.
Constant noise is hard for me. Early on, the only time I felt relief was at the temple or when working in the office. My brain felt the constant strain of trying to learn Spanish and trying to learn my mission responsibilities, and I desperately wanted a quiet refuge.
One opportunity that we have been given while in the Dominican Republic is to serve as temple workers in the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple. In the temple it’s blessedly quiet. One day, coming out of the temple, the blaring traffic hit me hard, and I felt so oppressed. I said to Heavenly Father. “Could you please just make the noise stop for a little while?” In my mind I was huddled in a ball with my hands over my ears, begging.
With this memory, I felt the Holy Ghost whisper, “How about asking for something I can say yes to?”
I stopped there on the sidewalk outside the temple, where horns honked, and engines revved. I knew Heavenly Father would not stop the traffic. Then I remembered the story of the people of Alma in Mosiah 24. Alma and his people were in bondage to Amulon and the Lamanites. They were mistreated and burdened with heavy workloads. Alma and his people poured out their hearts to the Lord in prayer, and He heard them. I’ll bet a lot of those prayers were asking the Lord to make the hard things stop.
“And it came to pass that the voice of the Lord came to them in their afflictions, saying: Lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage.
“And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions” (Mosiah 24:13–14).
As the Holy Ghost brought these verses to my memory, I knew what to pray for. “Heavenly Father, please strengthen my mind so I can bear the noise of the traffic here and not feel the mental stress that plagues me now. I know you can say yes to this, because you did something like it for the people of Alma.”
I felt a new lightness as I walked home, dodging cars while crossing the street to our apartment building. I knew Heavenly Father heard and would answer my prayer. I didn’t know how it would come about; I just knew that He heard me.
About a week later, I was doing some work in our apartment, and I suddenly realized that I wasn’t covering my ears and I wasn’t in pain from the loud traffic. It had stopped bothering me the way it had before. It felt less intrusive and weighed on me less.

When Elder Neal A. Maxwell of the Quorum of the Twelve was growing up, more than anything he wanted to be a basketball star. When he was young, he was the best basketball player among his friends. In fact, he taught one of his friends how to play. But as time went on, his friend grew very tall and he did not. One of the hardest experiences of his life was being cut from the school basketball team while his friend made it.

Let his life be an example to you. Not all of your prayers will be answered the way you’d like. But if you trust Heavenly Father, he will not betray that trust.

Twenty-year-old Elaine Jack of Livingstone Ward, Scotland, found this to be so. “Not only was I the only LDS student at school where religious beliefs were mocked, but I was also the only active youth at church,” she says. “Now that I’m older, I don’t mind being different, but as a teenager I wanted so much to be accepted. Between ages 15 and 17 I stayed away from church. Until then I had relied on my parents’ testimony. This was not enough.

“It wasn’t until a caring Primary leader asked me to help with the children,” continues Elaine, “that I slowly began attending church again. I was still ready to find fault with everything. Then I studied the Book of Mormon in institute. That completely turned me around. By then I was ready to reach out and learn. The last three chapters of Second Nephi became especially significant to me.”

I have witnessed this happiness in the lives of many members of the Church. Several weeks ago I had the assignment to preside over a stake conference in Cali, Colombia. I met a very special young man there who is a member of the Church and can well illustrate the meaning of true happiness.
His name is Fabián. His family belongs to the Church, and he learned of the plan of happiness when he was just a little boy. In 1984, when he was three years old, Fabián and his family lived in a house close to a large and busy avenue. That avenue was a route for many city bus lines.
One day, seeing the gate open, little Fabián tried to cross the avenue and got hit by a bus. Thanks to Heavenly Father’s goodness, Fabián survived the accident. His parents took him to three different hospitals that indicated they could not treat him. They continued looking for help, and upon finding the proper medical assistance, they learned the prognosis was not very good. After undergoing multiple surgeries, the doctors informed the family that the damage to his feet and legs was so extensive that to save him, they had to amputate his right leg.
Little Fabián started a different life then, without one of his legs. He slowly learned to control his body balance and to walk with the help of crutches. He went to school and had the support of his teachers and friends. Some people used to mock him, but he soon learned not to care about the jokes they played on him.
He wanted to participate in all physical activities, and did so frequently. Even though winning was very hard to come by, he was always brave and ready to participate.
Fabián currently serves as a counselor in the Young Men organization of his stake. He attends institute of religion classes and is active in the student body organization. He plays basketball and soccer. He also plays Ping-Pong with his friends from the institute. He rides a bike and does everything a young man can do. He works as a volunteer teaching English at a foundation that cares for poor children.
Fabián wants to serve his fellowmen and God with all his strength. He has a smiling face and is always there to help someone in need. Fabián is truly a happy young man. With an overwhelming strength which comes from his faith and trust in God, Fabián is a great example to the citizens of his hometown.
His happiness comes from striving to live worthily every day and to obey God’s commandments.

The second counselor spoke first. He talked about his childhood in a small town and how he made the extra efforts to befriend a boy who had been rejected by all the other children at school. He told us how, twenty years later, that friendless boy, now a successful man, came to him and thanked him for his kindness. He concluded his talk by quoting a scripture about the worth of souls and bearing his testimony of the gospel.

Although as disciples of Christ we may know we are right, there are times when insisting or demanding that others recognize our correctness would simply cause unneeded offense. And even worse, it could become a stumbling block in someone else’s spiritual progression.

A wonderful example of this meekness and unwillingness to become a stumbling block is found in this experience of President James E. Faust (1920–2007), a former counselor in the First Presidency. “His son, Marcus, talked … about going with him to the Washington, D.C., temple to participate in a temple [endowment] session. When President Faust presented his recommend for admission—a special one used by general authorities—the temple worker didn’t recognize him or the recommend and denied him access. ‘Rather than embarrassing the man by telling him who he was, Dad politely excused himself and we all left.’”7

It was New Year’s Day, and a snowstorm had just blanketed the small mountain town of Estes Park, Colorado, where I lived. Filled with the excitement of the holiday season, my older brother, Roger, and I had gone outside to play in a field near our home. A little lake where we had played on the ice many times before now lay underneath a fresh mantle of snow, flat and absolutely flawless.
No one worried about the lake being unsafe at that time of year—we lived at such a high altitude that the cold weather generally insured that small lakes would be frozen. But as we were playing, Roger suddenly fell through a soft spot in the ice. I was only six years old, and I didn’t know what to do. I could see no sticks around to pull him out with; everything was covered by snow. His heavy clothing soon pulled him under the water.
I ran all the way home through the deep snow, over a mile, to get my father. We drove back to the lake, and he dove through the ice and somehow found my brother. He tried to revive him, but by that time Roger had drowned.
That experience left me with several feelings. First, I saw the strength of the gospel in my parents’ lives. We were the only members of the Church in our community. Everyone rallied around my parents to give them support and comfort, but I think that the whole community gained more comfort and understanding by watching how a knowledge of the gospel helped my family handle that very difficult situation.
Years later, after I had a family of my own, my wife’s mother heard a caller in a radio talk show describe how he had watched a young family that had lost a son in a drowning accident. He didn’t mention the names of my parents, but the accident had occurred in Estes Park. It was obvious of whom he was speaking. He said it had taught him a great lesson about the strength of that family and the principles that guided their lives. Even then, about twenty-five years after the accident, my parents’ conduct continued to influence others.
Second, I learned about the purpose of this mortal experience. We come to earth to gain a body. Some of us are going to live on the earth a shorter time than others. When you’re literally side by side with your brother, and he goes through the ice and drowns and you don’t, it gives you a whole different way of thinking about life. It could have just as easily been me that drowned. But I’ve always felt that my brother’s mission here on earth had been completed and that he was just “called home” at an earlier age than most of us. But being the one who was allowed to remain, it was important to live as well as I could so that not only Heavenly Father but also my brother would be pleased with my actions.
Third, I learned a great deal from the courage exhibited by my father. He risked his life to break through that ice and dive underneath it to try to rescue his ten-year-old son. It was an immediate response; he did what he felt he needed to do. He showed great love, courage, and strength of character.
Mortality is significant, but it is a very small part of our eternal existence, I learned that lesson then too. I also learned to appreciate that through the ordinances and covenants of the temple our family relationships truly can be eternal.
There’s always another side to tragedy, and that side is one of greater understanding of the purpose of life. I know that Heavenly Father provides special comfort to family and friends who go through painful experiences, as He did with my family. It was a time when Heavenly Father was particularly close to us. And He will be close to you in times of difficulty if you call on Him in prayer.