Gospel Story Finder

Some people have dogs to love—big ones, silky ones, spotted ones. Some people have cats to love—big ones, furry ones, stripy ones.
Some people have goldfish to love. Some people have canaries. Some people have brothers, or sisters. I didn’t have anybody—no dog, no cat, no goldfish, no canary, no sister, no brother. It was terrible.
Everybody needs somebody—somebody to hide with in the dark when everything’s creepy, somebody whose nose turns red with yours when it’s cold, somebody to slosh through the rain with. It’s pretty lonely without anybody.
“Hello, Jimmy,” I said to myself every morning. “Good night, Jimmy,” I said to myself every night. Nobody ever answered me.
When my teeth chattered and I said, “Brrrr!” nobody ever said, “I’m c-c-cold t-too!”
When I watched a scary show on television and I grew goose bumps, nobody else grew goose bumps with me. Nobody else shivered. Nobody else said, “I—I’m SCARED!”
Then Mommy talked to me one night. She told me I was going to have a baby brother or sister. “Next month,” she said.
“Whoopee!” I said. “That’s what I want.”
I waited a month, a whole month more. Then my baby brother came. He was a little red thing all wrapped up in blue blankets. “Hi,” I said.
He didn’t answer. He screwed up his eyes. He made his fists into little balls.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Waaaa!” he answered. “Waaaa!”
I tried to talk to him, but he didn’t even hear me. I didn’t even hear me.
I made a face at him to make him laugh. He didn’t laugh. He turned purple and cried—again. “Waaaa! WAAAA!”
I didn’t laugh either. He made so much noise that I couldn’t even think.
He smelled funny too.
He couldn’t blow bubble gum. He couldn’t eat ice cream. He didn’t even have much hair, just some fuzz. He couldn’t walk or run or talk.
“Good night,” I whispered to him. He was already asleep.
That night I heard him. It was dark.
“Waaaa!” he yelled. “Aa-aah!”
“Waaaa,” I said. “Waaaa. Waaaa. Waaaa.” Nobody paid any attention. Nobody laughed either.
So I still didn’t have anybody to play with. When I laughed because the grass tickled my elbows, nobody laughed beside me. When I jumped into bed and the springs plunked, nobody plunked beside me.
But after a while …
When I leaned over the crib to tickle my brother’s toes, he smiled at me.
When I helped Mommy hold his bottle, he wrapped his fingers around my finger. I couldn’t get away. I didn’t even try.
When I walked my fingers over his stomach, he kicked his feet because it tickled.
When I blew at the funny, fuzzy hair on top of his head, he waved his hands. He laughed. I laughed too.
And when he cried, Mommy sat him on my knee.
“Waaaa!” he said. “Waaaa!”
Mommy wrapped my arms around him. His tummy felt warm and round. “Don’t cry,” I said. “Please don’t cry.” I joggled him. He couldn’t joggle back. He stopped crying, though, and leaned against me. He pinched the skin on the back of my hands with his fingers. He kicked his heels on my legs.
“Hold him tight,” Mommy said.
I did. I held my baby brother tight. And I wasn’t lonely anymore.

It was a big deal when our high school basketball team advanced to the state championship game. Basketball was my passion; I was always looking for an opportunity to play in a game or shoot hoops with my friends. I was among the starting five my senior year.
We were in the locker room getting ready to warm up for the big game when I opened up my gym bag to pull out my jersey. My heart sank; where was my jersey? Did a teammate hide it? Was this some kind of joke? I looked around the locker room hoping someone’s body language or actions could confirm it was just a tease, but to no avail. Reality sunk in. I knew I had left my jersey at home.
My teammates started to realize something was wrong. Everyone’s attention was on me when I uttered the words, “I don’t have my jersey.” Months and months of practice and training were about to be washed down the drain because of my mistake.
Just as I was about to accept my fate, I heard a quiet yet familiar voice from the other side of the locker room. “Here is my jersey.” It was the voice of my younger brother. I could play after all! What a sacrifice for my younger brother to make as part of the championship team. Instead of being able to receive recognition for his hard work and practice, he sacrificed so that I could play.
My brother injured his knee the following year and was not able to play again during high school. He felt that he hadn’t accomplished much in basketball, but his sacrifice means so much to me.

William Clayton was the official camp historian. To help direct those who would follow, he and others kept careful records of the camp’s travel. In order to calculate the distance traveled each day, he tied a piece of red flannel to a wagon’s wheel spoke and walked beside the wagon, counting the times the wheel turned. This was a tiresome task, and he proposed the idea for a mile counter. Orson Pratt designed the machine, and Appleton Harmon constructed it. This device, called an odometer, tallied ten miles, then started over. This made William’s job much easier.

Second, pay your tithing to rightfully claim the blessings promised those who do so. “Prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.” After she lost her husband in the martyrdom at Nauvoo and made her way west with five fatherless children, Mary Fielding Smith continued in her poverty to pay tithing. When someone at the tithing office inappropriately suggested one day that she should not contribute a tenth of the only potatoes she had been able to raise that year, she cried out to the man, “William, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Would you deny me a blessing? If I did not pay my tithing, I should expect the Lord to withhold His blessings from me. I pay my tithing, not only because it is a law of God, but because I expect a blessing by doing it. [I need a blessing.] By keeping this and other laws, I expect to … be able to provide for my family.”

In 2013 we were living in Manhattan, New York, USA. We loved our ward. Because we were expecting our first child, we began looking for a larger apartment in the ward. We found one that seemed perfect, but it didn’t feel right.
That spring, Laura started to feel that maybe we should move to Brooklyn. Wil wasn’t so sure. We didn’t know anything about Brooklyn, and Wil wanted to be close to his investment-banking job so that, given his long work hours, he had a short commute. We decided to pray about it and listen for an answer during general conference.
As we watched the talks on a laptop computer in our studio apartment, Elder Stanley G. Ellis of the Seventy shared an experience he had as a member of a stake presidency. He said that families moving into his stake in Texas, USA, would often ask which ward was best. Only once in 16 years did a family ask which ward needed help.1
We were touched by his story. It answered our prayers. So, instead of staying in a ward we loved, that we felt comfortable in, and that had a great nursery and Primary, we took Elder Ellis’s advice to heart and prayed about where we should move.
At the time, we were serving as ordinance workers in the Manhattan New York Temple. One of the workers there knew New York City well. He suggested two wards where he thought we could help—both in Brooklyn.
The first ward was too far from Wil’s work. The second one was closer, and we felt we had found the right place when we visited the ward’s sacrament meeting. Many of the members were Haitian immigrants. Because Wil is from Gabon and speaks French, we thought the ward would be a great home for us.
A few weeks later we found an apartment and moved in. Wil was soon called to serve in various meaningful ways. Understanding the language took some time, but he felt blessed to quickly become proficient enough in Haitian Creole to help interpret for members during meetings and interviews. Laura was also blessed to serve in various capacities, and we became involved in missionary work.
We learned that when we serve the Lord and His children, He takes care of us. Our experiences in Brooklyn helped keep us grounded. They especially helped Wil care less about the fanfare of Wall Street and remember what matters most. In investment banking, almost everyone works on Sundays. Wil occasionally had to do catch-up work from home, but the Lord blessed us so that he never had to go into the office on Sundays.
When we moved to Brooklyn, we thought we were going to be one of only two families with young children in the ward. But the ward’s boundaries changed two weeks after we moved in, and several other young families also moved in.
Eventually, we intend to move to Gabon. We feel that our experiences in Brooklyn have helped prepare us to better serve the Church and people of Africa. We’re thankful we followed the prompting to move. The Lord blessed us—and continues to bless us—in ways we never could have imagined.

12 Print Shop14 Times and Seasons Building
In 1845 this three-building complex was purchased by Elias Smith for $3,400. The buildings were used as a printing center for the Times and Seasons (semimonthly periodical) and the Nauvoo Neighbor (a weekly newspaper), a bookstore, and a book bindery. The middle building served as living quarters for the editors.

President Russell M. Nelson is a wonderful example of spiritual poise. One time, while then-Dr. Nelson was performing a quadruple coronary artery bypass, the patient’s blood pressure dropped suddenly. Dr. Nelson calmly assessed the situation and identified that a clamp was accidentally removed by one of the team members. It was replaced immediately, and Dr. Nelson comforted the team member, saying, “I still love you,” and then added jokingly, “Sometimes I love you more than other times!” He showed how an emergency should be handled—with poise, focused only on what matters most—addressing the emergency. President Nelson said: “It’s a matter of extreme self-discipline. Your natural reaction is, ‘Take me out, coach! I want to go home.’ But of course you can’t. A life is totally dependent on the whole surgical team. So you’ve got to stay just as calm and relaxed and sharp as you ever were.”

A young man returning from his mission shared his experience with faith. He acknowledged it as a miracle in his life. He said: “I was the first of six children born to my parents. My mother and father taught me when I was young the principles of the gospel. Faith was taught through the example of both my mother and father. When I was only 10 years old, my father, this great example of trusting the Lord, was killed in an accident. I was young and had many feelings to deal with that were new to me.” This young man said he realized that he had two choices available to him: “I could have become bitter towards the Lord and lost all that I now have, or I could trust the Lord. Because of the example of my parents, trust was the path I chose. Choosing faith has made all of the difference.”

I am a high school student, and I recently had to write a research paper for my English class. The theme of the paper was traditional American values and how they are being torn down by the world. Through my research I found that the enforcing of good morals and family values helped people become more successful in life. I would like to express my appreciation to the New Era for being one of the sources that helps promote good morals and keeps our family values going. With the help of all the uplifting articles and messages, I know our values will not be lost in our society. Thank you for all the time and effort put into this magazine.
Jennifer DuranClovis, California

In my profession as a farmer and a rancher, I’ve had a front-row seat to observe how a mother’s natural affection manifests itself even in nature. Each spring we take a herd of cows and their new calves up along Idaho’s Snake River, where they graze in the foothills for a month or so. Then we round them up and bring them down a road that leads to the corral. From there they are loaded onto trucks that carry them to their summer pastures in Montana.
On one particularly hot spring day, I was helping with the roundup by riding at the back of the herd as it moved down the dusty road toward the corral. My job was to gather any calves that had wandered from the road. The pace was slow and provided me some time to think.
Because it was so hot, the little calves kept running off into the trees to find shade. My thoughts turned to the youth of the Church who are sometimes distracted from the strait and narrow path. I also thought about those who have left the Church or who may feel that the Church has left their hearts while they were distracted. I thought to myself that a distraction doesn’t have to be evil to be effective—sometimes it can just be shade.
After several hours of gathering up stray calves and with sweat running down my face, I yelled to the calves in frustration, “Just follow your mothers! They know where they’re going! They’ve been down this road before!” Their mothers knew that even though the road was hot and dusty now, the end would be better than the beginning.
As soon as we got the herd into the corral, we noticed that three of the cows were pacing nervously at the gate. They could not find their calves and seemed to sense they were back on the road somewhere. One of the cowboys asked me what we should do. I said, “I bet I know where those calves are. Back a quarter of a mile [0.4 km] or so, there’s a stand of trees. I’m sure we’ll find them there.”
Sure enough, just as I had suspected, we found our lost calves taking a nap in the shade. Our approach startled them, and they resisted our efforts to round them up. They were frightened because we were not their mothers! The more we tried to push them toward the corral, the more stubborn they became. Finally I said to the cowboys, “I’m sorry. I know better than this. Let’s ride back and let their mothers out of the corral. The cows will come and get their calves, and the calves will follow their mothers.” I was right. The mother cows knew exactly where to go to find their calves, and they led them back to the corral, as I had expected.

A family of four was initially contacted by sister missionaries, and from the very beginning the mother and her children often read in the Book of Mormon, prayed daily, and wanted to attend church. The father, however, resisted. Unlike his wife, he was not of a Christian faith, and he did not yet feel prepared to reevaluate his beliefs.
The sister missionaries were inspired to focus their teachings on Jesus Christ. In their words:
“We taught about Joseph Smith, of his faith in Christ, what we learn about Christ from the First Vision, and the Prophet’s testimony of our Savior. Everything we ever read together or challenged them to read as a family out of the Book of Mormon was teaching them more about our Redeemer. That is when we started seeing the progress. They displayed a framed picture of Christ proudly in their family room—it was one we had given them as a gift.”
The father’s change of heart occurred when his wife announced that she wanted to be baptized and his sons decided to pray to know whether they should also be baptized. From that moment on, he read regularly in the Book of Mormon and prayed about baptism. His sincere desire to know whether the Church was true changed him, and he became a spiritual leader in his home. Just before he and his family were baptized, the father asked for a tithing slip and an envelope. He did not want to delay keeping the commandments for even one second.

Golden Colorado Stake
The activity day girls and their dads in the Golden Colorado Stake enjoyed a fun evening together ’50s style! There was dancing, a hula-hoop contest, a bubblegum-blowing contest, and yummy food.

When I was a teenager, I set the goal of getting a degree in sports. I prayed a lot, asking the Lord to make it so practices would be on Saturdays. However, my team’s practices were scheduled on Sundays. I had to make a choice: give up on my goal or skip church. Since both were important to me, I compromised. I would go to practices for two Sundays and then go to church on the third Sunday. Unfortunately, this little deviation from my faith led to sin, causing much suffering.
It did not take me long to realize my mistake. I asked to be on a different team. However, it was too late; the wrong had been done. I had half opened the door, and Satan had pushed it wide open. Eventually I gave up competitive sports.
I learned two valuable things. The first is that when we seek to compromise with the Lord, we are in great danger. The second is that I had made the mistake of believing my faith was strong enough that I could do without Sunday meetings. Our spirits need nourishment just as our body does. If we were to eat only one meal and then skip the next two meals, we could not remain in good health.
I love Sundays now. The Lord has blessed me in my studies and my health above measure.

My father was an internationally famous research chemist. When he would give talks to audiences of nonscientists, he would often give his explanation of an answer to a scientific question and then he would say, “You know, sometimes I think that God watches me and laughs at me as I struggle like a little child. Someday I will be with Him and He will show me how childlike my ideas were.”
That always got a chuckle from the audience. And it endeared Dad to people because they thought it was a sign of humility.
But it was far more than a sign of humility. It was an explanation of why he was a lifelong learner. He really saw himself as a little child. Because of that, it was easy for him to admit that there were better explanations than the ones he had already offered. He was constantly changing, constantly trying to learn.

The Terrible Eek by Patricia A. Compton In this Japanese folktale, both a human thief and a wolf are about to sneak into the house, when they hear the father tell his son that the thing he feared most was a “terrible leak.” The wolf doesn’t know what a leak is, and the thief mistakes “leak” as “eek” and doesn’t know what that is. Then the fun for the reader begins.

When I went home for lunch, I turned on the television, looked at the news for a moment, and paraphrased in my mind the words of the Psalms: “Why do the nations so furiously rage together?” (see Ps. 2:1). I’ve lived through all of the wars of the 20th century. My eldest brother lies buried in the soil of France, a victim of the First World War. I have lived through the Second World War, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Gulf War, and lesser conflicts. We have been a very quarrelsome and difficult people in our conflicts one with another. We so need to turn to the Lord and look to Him. I think of the great words of Kipling:
Far-called, our navies melt away;
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
[Rudyard Kipling, “Recessional,” in James Dalton Morrison, ed., Masterpieces of Religious Verse (1948), 512]
Our safety lies in the virtue of our lives. Our strength lies in our righteousness. God has made it clear that if we will not forsake Him, He will not forsake us. He, watching over Israel, slumbers not nor sleeps (see Ps. 121:4).

Having been called to serve a mission to England, Brigham and Brother Kimball were faced with a problem. They had promised the Lord they would leave for their mission from the cornerstone of Far West Temple. Despite the threats of apostates against their lives, Brigham, Orson Pratt, John E. Page, John Taylor, Wilford Woodruff, and George A. Smith, made their way back to Far West temple site, and with a small group of loyal Saints, held a brief service. The apostles then went to Commerce (now Nauvoo), Illinois, to settle their families and prepare for their mission. Brigham got a room for his family in an army barracks across the Mississippi River in Montrose.

One day when President Hinckley was about five years old, he was sitting on his front porch with some friends. A family of another race walked down the street in front of the house. Young Gordon and his friends made some unkind remarks about the people. His mother heard what they said, and she took them inside to talk with them. She told them that all people are sons and daughters of God. That day he learned that we must respect and help one another, regardless of race, religion, wealth, or anything else.

Reality: Three boys got in a sports car with a high school classmate after she offered them a ride. She had been drinking. On the winding road toward her house, the car was going between 70 and 80 miles per hour when it spun out of control and hit a road barrier.
The driver escaped from the car, but the boys were trapped inside. The car exploded, killing all three.
The sister of one of the victims says, “Other people say, ‘You can drink; just be careful when you drink.’ But I don’t want anything to do with drinking because it took my brother away from me.” Is beer funny?

When I was 10 years old, I was on a swim team. One day when I was leaving the pool, I noticed something on the ground. It was a wallet. I picked it up and looked inside. There was about $250 in it.
I wanted to keep it and almost decided that I should. But I prayed for Heavenly Father’s help to guide me to the right decision. The Spirit prompted me to take the wallet inside to the front desk. Even though I really wanted the money, I gave the wallet to the lady at the desk, and she thanked me. I’m glad I made the right decision.