Gospel Story Finder

We think we know the difference between “friendly” competition and life. But sharp words and cutting remarks inflict wounds that leave ugly scars. The response is usually as vicious. I saw the absurdity of this attitude in a community league game I officiated several years ago. Two players on opposing teams were aggressively playing each other. Each time, as they went up and down the court, they intensified their verbal and physical exchanges. Finally, after several fouls were assessed, both players let all of their frustration out, and a fight ensued. I had found it interesting that the two players referred to each other by their first names, and after they had left the floor I remarked to a teammate that they seemed to be acquainted with each other. He replied, “They are. One is a bishop and the other is his ward clerk.” In the heat of competition we forget about our common brotherhood.

This helpfulness seems to be an inherited trait. Chad’s father, who maintains and drives the school’s buses, is known as a kind and generous man, always ready to share with those in need. Though a member of the Church, Brother O’Watch has not attended for many years. That’s why it’s so amazing that he did what he did one afternoon in April when Chad was 11.
Brother O’Watch and Chad were returning in an empty bus from the last run of the day. Instead of turning down his own lane as usual, Brother O’Watch made a surprise right turn into the parking lot of the Carry-The-Kettle Branch of the Regina Saskatchewan Stake. “The missionaries are waiting for you,” he said.
Chad was not a member of the Church and had no wish to be one. He refused to get off the bus. His dad, uncharacteristically, insisted. “There are other kids here,” he said. “You’ll have fun, and it will be good for you.”
So Chad obeyed, steaming and fuming. “I thought my dad was the worst guy alive,” he recalls. He met the missionaries and attended his first Primary meeting. He was astonished to find that he kind of liked it, and he went again the next week.
“After going a few times, I found that I just loved being there. There was a feeling of the Spirit. The missionaries lived next to the chapel, and before long I was there almost every day helping them and being taught.”
In November Chad was baptized and confirmed. “I had a warm, good feeling, like coming home to a place where I belonged.”

Kathryn Marrett of the Camp Hill Ward, Brisbane Australia Stake, discovered the power of storytelling. “As a mum with small children, I found it a challenge to keep them interested in family home evening,” writes Sister Marrett. “After praying for inspiration, I decided to focus on a different value every month. I chose honesty as the first topic. Soon ideas began to flow, and the children and I began making up stories together about honesty. We made up imaginary children and used them in every story. It was fun to create different situations and explore the results of good and bad choices.
“Now when something needs to be dealt with, such as a bike left in the rain or bad language, we talk about the appropriate value and make up stories featuring the same imaginary children. Of course, these stories are only one way we teach good values. The scriptures and other Church materials provide the foundation for our gospel teachings.”

There is a woman who suffers with a debilitating, chronic illness that persists despite medical attention, priesthood blessings, and fasting and prayers. Nevertheless, her faith in the power of prayer and the reality of God’s love for her is undiminished. She presses ahead day by day (and sometimes hour by hour) serving as called in the Church and, together with her husband, looking after her young family, smiling as much as she can. Her compassion for others runs deep, refined by her own suffering, and she often loses herself in ministering to others. She continues steadfast, and people feel happy being around her.

The other evening I picked up a new publication of the writings of Dr. Hugh Nibley, a man my age whom I have known and admired for many years. On the dust jacket of the book I read these words:
“As a young man he memorized vast portions of Shakespeare and studied Old English, Latin, Greek, and other languages. As a student at Berkeley, he began reading at the southwest corner of the ninth level of the library and worked his way down to the northeast corner of the first level, studying every significant book that caught his eye.” (Old Testament and Related Studies, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1986.)
His encyclopedic knowledge has given him tremendous and well-deserved status among his academic peers. It also has made him a powerful advocate of the work of the Lord. His appetite for learning has been whetted by the gospel he loves.

Members of the São Paulo Brazil Stake felt inspired to collect sugar, oil, rice, and beans and donate the food to two charities. Then they trained representatives from the charities in the basics of food storage. Members also volunteered to present education, finance, and employment training to stake and community members to help them develop the skills necessary to compete for available jobs.
“The community we invited was delighted with the work of the Church. Many did not know us, but they went away with good feelings,” said stake member Kátia Ribeiro. “Among the members, there was a spirit of unity and service, and among those who were served, there was a spirit of deep gratitude.”

My beloved wife, Jeanene, loved doing family history research. When our children were young, she would trade babysitting time with friends so she could have a few hours every few weeks to work on researching our family lines. After our youngest child left home, she recorded in her personal journal: “I have just made a decision and I want to stand up and shout about it. Mike’s old bedroom has become my genealogy workroom. It is well equipped to organize the records and work in. My life will now focus on vital family research and temple name submissions. I am so excited and anxious to get going.”8
Another journal entry reads: “The … miracle for me occurred in the Family History office of Mel Olsen who presented me with a printout of all my known ancestral pedigrees taken from the update of the Ancestral File computerized records sent into the genealogical society. They came mostly from the records of the four generation’s program the Church called for many years ago. I had been overwhelmed with the thought of the huge task ahead of me to gather all my ancestors’ research records from family organizations to get them all in the computer for the first computerized distribution of the Ancestral File. And there they all were, beautiful, organized and laser printed and sitting there on the desk before me. I was so thrilled and so overwhelmed I just sat there stunned and then began to cry I was so happy. … For one who has doggedly, painstakingly researched for thirty years, the computerization of all these records is truly exciting. And when I think of the hundreds of thousands of people who are now or soon will be computerizing huge blocks of censuses and private research disks … I am so excited. It is truly the Lord’s work and He is directing it.”9

I began college at age 18. After a short time, however, I transferred to another university and changed my major. My new university was only a couple of hours from my home, but I found myself terribly homesick and discouraged, wanting to give up and return to my family. Yet I knew if I did, I would be abandoning my chance to earn a degree.
One weekend not long after the school year began, all of my roommates went home for a visit. I knew that if I went home too, I would not return. I couldn’t even call and speak to my family for fear I would break down and not be able to focus on my studies. I had been praying for the strength to overcome my homesickness, but now I was praying to know whether I should even remain at school and complete a degree.
Early that Sunday morning as I walked slowly across the quiet campus on my way to church, I wondered how I could stay at school when I missed my home and family so deeply and couldn’t overcome my loneliness. But what would I do if I left school?
When I arrived at church, the previous ward had just left the chapel. I entered, hoping for a moment to pray for direction. As I found a place to sit and slowly moved onto the wooden pew, I noticed a printed program from the previous sacrament meeting. There on the front of the folded paper were the following words: “Perhaps the most valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or not.”1
At that moment I knew what I needed to do. The Lord had answered my prayers in such a simple way, but I could not deny that it was an answer just the same.
It wasn’t long after that Sunday that my loneliness and discouragement left. As a result, I enjoyed my remaining years in school. I gained a degree, lifelong friends, and a stronger testimony by following the promptings of the Spirit.
Now, more than 25 years later, I still recall that answer to my prayer, and I use those same words from that sacrament meeting program to commit myself to difficult tasks. I have shared my experience with close friends and family in hopes that they too might gain strength in difficult times.
I know the Lord cares about our feelings and everyday choices, and I know He answers our sincere prayers.

Many of you hold the Aaronic Priesthood. You are preparing to become missionaries. Begin now to learn in your youth the joy of service in the cause of the Master. Could I share with you an example of such service.

Following Thanksgiving time a few years ago, I received a letter from a widow whom I had known in the stake where I served in the presidency. She had just returned from a dinner sponsored by her bishopric. Her words reflect the peace she felt and the gratitude which filled her heart:

“Dear President Monson,

“I am living in Bountiful now. I miss the people of our old stake, but let me tell you of a wonderful experience I have had. In early November, all the widows and older people received an invitation to come to a lovely dinner. We were told not to worry about transportation, since this would be provided by the older youth in the ward.

“At the appointed hour, a very nice young man rang the bell and took me and another sister to the stake center. He stopped the car, and two other young men walked with us to the building. Inside, they escorted us to the tables, where seated on each side of us was either a young woman or a young man. We were served a lovely Thanksgiving dinner and afterward provided a choice program.

“Then the young men took us home. It was such a nice evening. Most of us shed a tear or two for the love and respect we were shown.

“President Monson, when you see young people treat others like these young people did, I feel the Church is in good hands.”

Idleness is a serious weakness that can impede our progress. Sometimes I procrastinate because I would rather watch television or do nothing than do my work. Our Heavenly Father loves us and gives us more opportunities to improve and change our bad habits.

As I pray for guidance from the Holy Ghost, I am able to plan my time better and keep track of what I personally can accomplish. I try to plan with a purpose and have found that as I become more organized, I am able to do all I need to do, and in less time.

Rosa Beatriz Pérez Baudino, 19Los Laureles Ward, Ciudad Ojeda StakeCabimas, Venezuela

For over 30 years, Afulua Tuivaiti, of the Pesega 6th Ward in the Pesega Samoa Stake, dreamed of one day going back to high school to complete the learning she had missed out on—and perhaps even continuing on to university. She just didn’t know how.
With a family to take care of now, not a lot of income and many church and community responsibilities, Afulua began to feel like it was too late for her, that pursuing her education might be impossible. But then, a senior missionary couple in her ward told her about the PathwayConnect programme run by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
PathwayConnect is a low-cost, four-semester course that prepares learners to begin a university degree, which they can then do online with Brigham Young University (BYU). The programme is available worldwide and promoted through the Church alongside our self-reliance classes.
When Afulua learned about PathwayConnect, she became hopeful, wondering if her dream of studying again could actually come true, and then another senior missionary couple got involved. “Elder and Sister Abbot introduced me to Pathways,” Afulua explains, “and another generous missionary couple offered to pay [my tuition fee]. What a blessing!
“How Heavenly Father [has] answered my prayers, to me is a miracle.”
Afulua immediately signed up and soon attended her first class, which was a little intimidating.
“My first semester, I was nervous and scared because I didn’t speak English well,” she says, but now in her third semester, that problem is well behind her. “[My English] is improving and I’m not scared anymore. Plus, I was never alone. I got encouragement from my church leaders, teachers, and classmates,” Afulua says.
She is especially grateful to Sister Ho Chin, wife of the Apia Samoa Mission president, and the missionaries in the stake office who helped her, particularly with her technology needs, and to her bishop, Lautua Fa’aofo and his wife, Apu, who continue to support her along the way.
“Also, I am getting closer and closer to the Lord,” she says. “[This experience] has really strengthened my testimony.”
It’s a testimony that has kept her motivated and uplifted throughout the journey so far, which hasn’t always been easy. Afulua takes care of her 85-year-old mother and 5-month-old grandson, which—added to her other household chores—keeps her extremely busy every day. “I can only study at night,” she says, and often does until she falls asleep.
But she perseveres.
With one more semester to go in PathwayConnect, Afulua is determined to continue on to the BYU degree programme and is entertaining a few options for that next step.
“I am very interested in hospitality and tourism management,” she says. “I believe it could be a very good business for me one day.” In fact, Afulua is already putting aside money for a future business investment, “but I’m also thinking of studying applied health.”
She has some time yet to decide on a major, but Afulua is already clear about one thing. “I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. He answers my prayers and leads me to the right path.”
Afulua’s faith in God, and her commitment to her goals, has also inspired faith in herself. “There will always be obstacles along the way,” she says, “but I will always try to overcome them and encourage myself to put more effort in so that I can accomplish my plan.”

Matthew Cowley was ordained an Apostle in 1945. As a young man he served a mission in New Zealand, and later he returned as mission president during World War II.
I had a little mother … in New Zealand. I knew her on my first mission when I was [young]. In those days she called me her son. When I went back to preside, she called me her father. …
Now, on one occasion I called in as I always did when I visited that vicinity to see this grand little woman, then in her 80s and blind. She did not live in an organized branch, had no contact with the priesthood except as the missionaries visited there. We had no missionaries in those days. They were away at war.
… She was out in her backyard by her little fire. I reached forth my hand to shake hands with her, and I was going to rub noses [in a Maori greeting] with her. And she said, “Do not shake hands with me, Father.”
I said, “Oh, that is clean dirt on your hands. I am willing to shake hands with you. I am glad to. I want to.”
She said, “Not yet.” Then she got on her hands and knees and crawled over to her little house. At the corner of the house there was a spade. She lifted up that spade and crawled off in another direction, measuring the distance as she went. She finally arrived at a spot and started digging down into the soil with that spade. It finally struck something hard. She took out the soil with her hands and lifted out a fruit jar. She opened that fruit jar and reached down in it, took something out, and handed it to me. And it turned out to be [a lot of] New Zealand money. …
She said, “There is my tithing. Now I can shake hands with the priesthood of God.”
I said, “You do not owe that much tithing.”
She said, “I know it. I do not owe it now, but I am paying some in advance, for I do not know when the priesthood of God will get around this way again.”
And then I leaned over and pressed my nose and forehead against hers, and the tears from my eyes ran down her cheeks.

(See Doctrine and Covenants 6:15; Alma 32:28. To enlighten means to understand something better.)
Example: You’ve been struggling to learn a new math formula. After studying and asking for help, you finally understand it and how it applies to the real world.

The hands on the clock seemed glued in place. Every time I looked, they showed the same time. Why didn’t the teacher come to start the exams so that my agony could finally be over?
Like most Japanese students, I was scared to death by the college entrance exams. In our country, those who fail the tests aren’t allowed to attend a university. Students often stay up late all year long to cram, and they have a favorite saying: “He who sleeps four hours passes; he who sleeps five hours fails.” Like my friends, I had spent many sleepless nights in preparation and had received countless urgings from my parents to “make sure you pass those tests.”
For me, though, the exams carried even more weight. They might make a difference between whether or not my parents would allow me to be baptized. For four years I had been trying to convince them, especially my father, that joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would be good for me. He would hear nothing of it, always insisting that, for now, schooling was more important.
If only I could pass these exams, college would be assured and the pressure would be less. Perhaps then my parents would grant permission for my baptism. I looked at the clock again. Three minutes to go …
Last of all, my thoughts drifted to the beginning of this school year-my last in high school, the year of preparation for the college entrance examinations. I knew I would not be allowed to join the Church until the exams were over. I also wondered if my parents would allow me to be baptized even after the tests. One thing was certain, though. If I failed the exams, my parents would say, “The reason you failed is because you spent so much time with that church!” I had to prove that what they were thinking just wasn’t right. Somehow I knew that passing those tests was the key to my baptism, but I couldn’t see how.
I studied harder than I ever had before. Schoolwork passed ahead of everything, even Church assignments. Seminary studies began to pile up, but I rationalized that in order to be baptized, it was worth neglecting seminary in favor of schoolwork. The lack of seminary study worried me, however, for it was there I had grown the most and felt the strongest testimony. Now that testimony seemed to be shrinking as 13 home study books cluttered my shelf. My conscience told me I wasn’t doing what was right, that even with school there should be time for Church work and seminary too. On February 25 I promised myself I would complete all 13 books by March 4, the day exams began. Sandwiched in between my other schoolwork, seminary workbooks became a welcome break. On March 2, I handed all of my assignments, completed, to my amazed seminary teacher.
“It’s time,” the teacher supervising the exam said. I looked at the clock and whispered a prayer. Like a squadron of robots, the college entrance exam candidates rose and entered the testing area. Reluctantly, I joined them.
I passed! I couldn’t believe it! I was so excited! But several days later, when the scores were posted, I was listed. I would be able to go to college! I rushed to my parents with the good news and also asked if now I could finally have my wish—to become a member of the Church.
“No,” my father said simply. He startled the words right out of my mouth.
But my mother, although she had never done so before, came to my defense. She reminded him that I had been true to my studies and true to my religion for four years. “That’s such a good church that I don’t think my daughter would be doing anything wrong by joining it,” she said. “It is such a good church. I can understand why my daughter wants to go to it all her life.”
The three of us talked for hours, and I slowly realized my parents weren’t against me but loved me. They were concerned for my welfare and didn’t want me doing something blindly. I’m grateful to have such wonderful parents. I think they realized, too, that I wasn’t joining the Church on a whim. They gave me permission to be baptized! I made that covenant and received that ordinance on the same day I graduated from the Young Women program. My friends from seminary helped plan the baptismal service, and most of my family attended.

Which prophet was the first missionary in Ireland? A Methodist lay-preacher before joining the Church, he eventually served four missions. While on a European mission, he directed the first translation of the Book of Mormon into French and German.

Before he met the missionaries, Brother Dupont said, he had been like a wanderer in a drought-ravaged land. Then suddenly he stumbled into a lake of water. The gospel was rich and refreshing to him, and he could not drink his fill. In his exuberance to immerse himself in his new-found treasure, he could not understand why others did not want to savor the same message. This lack of communication spilled into his marriage. His wife didn’t understand what had changed her husband.
As we ate, she told us of the war years, when he was bedridden. She had managed to find food for both of them, even during shortages. She had nursed him daily. Even after the war, he had required her constant care for several years before he gained the strength to walk. Then he had spent more years training and rehabilitating himself while she supported the family. No sooner had he started working again than two Americans began talking religion with him. Then he joined their church—he was the only member in town, and they baptized him in the river—and more and more of his life belonged to his church, not to her. She felt deprived, then embarrassed, when parishioners laughed at her, the wife of the town fanatic.

A counselor in a bishopric recently shared an experience that teaches how important each neighbor is. While looking out over the congregation, he saw a child with a large box of crayons filled with a variety of different hues. As he looked at the many members of his ward, he was reminded that, like the crayons, they were very similar but each person was also very unique.
He remarked: “The shade they brought to the ward and the world was all their own. … They had their individual strengths and weaknesses, personal longings, private dreams. But together, they blended into a color wheel of spiritual unity. …
“Unity is a spiritual quality. It’s the sweet feelings of peace and purpose that come from belonging to a family. … It’s wanting the best for others as much as you want it for yourself. … It’s knowing that no one is out to harm you. [It means you will never be lonely.]”6

While visiting a sacrament meeting on Okinawa, I was so impressed with the manner in which the Aaronic Priesthood prepared and passed the sacrament that, when my turn came to speak, I invited two of the deacons to join me at the pulpit. Of one I asked, “What are your goals in life?” His prompt reply: “To become like my Savior!” Of the other I asked, “What does it mean to you to know that you hold the Aaronic priesthood?” He drew himself to his full height and looked out over that pulpit, and proudly said, “It is the greatest honor in my life!”

“I can’t take another day of the rowdiness and disrespect of those young people on our tour!” The American woman introduced herself as she sat down across the table from me.
“I don’t know what has happened to this younger generation. They have absolutely no regard for the beautiful or the sacred. We have some teenagers in our group who sit in the back of the bus smoking, drinking, and disrupting our whole tour with their rowdiness.”
We arose and walked through the rose garden behind the hotel, viewing the Holy City across the Kidron Valley. She continued: “Only yesterday in Bethlehem the obscenity and vulgarism of their language was a desecration of those sacred shrines.”
As she spoke, I thought of the eight young people who made up nearly a fourth of our tour group.
“What do you do with all those teenagers you have with you?” she asked. “I noticed that you have quite a number of them with your group. How do you control them?”
I thought of the way Melvin Bushman and Bonnie May Hiatt had been so concerned about Mrs. Foster as we all ascended the narrow, age-polished stone steps to the “Upper Room,” which tradition identifies as the site of the Last Supper. And wasn’t it Carolyn Bushman and her cousin Virnell Bushman who had made sure that Mrs. Turley wouldn’t miss the view from the minaret? Diane Hess was the very essence of sunshine and cheerfulness, always a bright spot in our group. And Shelley Crane, quiet and somewhat shy, was always concerned for others before herself.
Then there were Jerome and John Horowitz. Jerome was a typical 17-year-old and as typically unpredictable. I was a little annoyed when he appeared so zealous to board the plane that day when we didn’t have seat assignments, but a few moments later I realized that he was trying to reserve seats for some of the older members of our group.
“What do you do about them when you are visiting these sacred sites?” she asked.
“We take them with us, or rather they take us, and we share in their enthusiasm. You see, we’re Mormons, and—”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard about your church and the marvelous programs you have for young people,” she interrupted. “You have some sort of youth activity program, don’t you?”
I explained that the quality of our young people is the result of more than just activities and programs; the gospel is a whole way of life. It is the influence of the gospel of Jesus Christ and his priesthood in the lives of Mormon young people that makes the difference. Because of their own feelings for their Savior, their own spiritual strength and testimonies, and in many cases, their own sacrifices, this journey to the Holy Land meant as much to the young people of our tour group as it did to the adults.
My conversation with this lady came back many times during the subsequent events of our tour, events that vindicated my defense of LDS youth.

I spent two weeks in the hospital. I was bored, had bad headaches every day, and was afraid while waiting for the diagnosis. But one good friend of mine sent me some New Eras, and when I was reading them, I forgot about the pain and fear, and I felt peace in my mind and knew that everything will be okay.
I want to give my thanks to all the people who prepare the New Era because it’s a good way to spend time and find peace and hope in all the wonderful stories and talks and answers we are looking for.Tereza R., Czech Republic